#he's been a thought since his previous life was spent as a general

[usagimen]

Really should write about Sayu's shikigami's considering Yasu is her main. Unlike Okami, he needs approval to even think of being loyal to a new mistress && adores her to death. They have been together since she was at least twelve years of age, while respected highly when he wears a humanoid façade as he primarily leans into archery. During the Past Arc he was a slim && small dragon that entwined around Sayuri who would occassionally cast judging glances at the rest of her peers. Though, in his current state he is massive with an oil slick sheen to his scales. Anyway, Yasu is neat solely on his symbolism with lighting && electricity, if Sayuri reveres someone highly - they can summon him.

[crescenthistory]

hi! i have this really cute idea for regulus x fem! reader. so reader is a animagus and it’s winter time so sometimes she’ll shift into a their animal form, preferably a cat, and goes seek out warmth. but reader is also besties with remus and knows he’s a werewolf, his body temperature runs a lot warmer then anyone else so she goes to room to cuddle. when that happens, regulus immediately knows they reader is with remus and, begrudgingly, goes to gryffindor to steal reader back.

when he gets there, sirius is pouring and complains to reggie that “your girlfriend is stealing my boyfriend” and regulus snaps back by saying “well your boyfriend is stealing my girlfriend” and reader and remus are amused but their bickering but don’t care.

anon. anon. i am giving you the BIGGEST kiss, you don't even know. this is perhaps the best idea i've seen in a while and so i love you. i will be thinking about this throughout all of winter, thank you.

Words: 3k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, references to previous black brothers angst, disgusting amounts of fluff, best friends can cuddle platonically regardless of gender i will fight you on this, background rosekiller and wolfstar, childhood best friend!remus, implied gryffindor!reader, sirius pretends to be jealous but is not

Note: read more about cat!animagus!reader's shenanigans with regulus, wolfstar and james in Sweet Like Honey; Karma is a Cat & Padfoot vs. Whiskers

When Regulus accepted Sirius’ attempt to mend their relationship, he had expected to get his big brother back in full and no more. The person who understands him best, the boy he needed to lean on – it was all he wanted to get out of it. Perhaps he expected to have to grown tolerant of his brother’s friends, but that was something he dreaded, if he at all thought of.

What Regulus had not expected was to be introduced to and fall head over heels in love with you.

Remus’ childhood best friend, the more reserved one of the bunch that he had always seen floating around with them, but whose voice he had never had to roll his eyes at, thus never interacted with. It bewildered him now how he once upon a time barely thought of you, regarded you.

Now he knew you were delightful, and Regulus was positively smitten.

It had been exactly what Regulus had never thought he would get – an easy love. Like your friends, you were open and honest and loyal to the bone, and it spilled over like honey into your relationships with those around you. Once you caught a glance of his clearly lovestruck eyes, you melted, and the puddle was caught delicately in his hands.

Since then, that is where he has held you. In the palms of his hands, close to his heart. He learned more than he perhaps wanted to know about himself during the process of opening up to you, and you showed him a patience he still is not entirely certain he deserves. But you gave him your time, your moments, your touches and your lips, and he received and received without complaint.

When the two most important people in Regulus’ life – one a fervent, natural devotion, another a sassy, passionate rivalry – were in the same hazardous circle of loud-mouthed Gryffindor friends, he eventually had to capitulate that he could no longer just tolerate them. They were family.

God, what love has cost him.

Regulus walked into his dorm room where you have spent more days than not for the past few months, and sighed defeatedly when all he finds there is Barty laying on top of Evan in some odd position that cannot possibly be comfortable.

“Hello to you too, Black. Thrilling to see you.” Barty’s voice was laced with sarcasm, but there was no menace there as of yet.

“Yeah, yeah,” Regulus grumbled as he threw his bookbag onto his bed and sat down. “You seen Y/N lately?”

“You mean since you were all snuggled up this morning? Nah.”

Regulus rolled his eyes painfully hard at his oldest friend, murmuring a soft sod off before tossing whatever was closest – his pyjama t-shirt – in Barty’s general direction, missing by a good metre. He is a seeker and not a chaser for a reason.

“What of it, Reg?” Evan mumbled, but it was distorted by Barty’s elbow being more or less shoved into his mouth. He could never sit still.

“Just figured she’d be here, ‘s all. She finished class before me.” Regulus falls down onto his bed, curls spilling onto the emerald sheets as he stares at the ceiling, picturing you there and then immediately kicking himself for being that down bad. Then reminding himself with the therapy-speech Sirius has been teaching him, love is a strength not a weakness, it’s good to feel your feelings. Yada yada. "It's been a long day."

“Maybe she got tired of your sorry ass.” Barty laughed at his own joke only to be smacked by Evan’s finally-freed hand.

“Or yours, you sod.”

“Nah, Treasure absolutely adores me.” Barty propped himself up to flash you both a grin. “See, unlike you, I’m fun.”

“Interesting word to substitute insufferable with.” Evan said, leaning his face up from underneath Barty, as if to intimidate him.

“You love me,” Barty drawled before kissing the blond soundly.

“Would you guys please stop flirting?” Regulus’ voice was closer to a groan than anything else. He pressed the backs of his hands to his eyes, seeing stars and thinking of you. Stupid poetic feelings.

“Just because you can’t keep track of your girl doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves.” Barty pointed an accusatory finger at Regulus. “I would classify that demand as rude.”

“Bite me.”

“Only if your girlfriend says yes.” This time it was Evan’s turn of tuning into Regulus’ torture.

“And she would.” Barty winks at him.

This time it’s a pillow Regulus throws at them, and it lands perfectly, smack in the middle of Barty’s face.

“Oi!” He calls as he throws it back. “Either you quit it, or you throw me your jumper, it’s freezing in here.”

“You’re literally in bed, Barty.” Regulus looks at him, unamused. “Just–”

He trails off, gaze falling from Barty to the wall behind him as he pieces the puzzle together and realisation dawns on his face. The other boys seem to have caught on as they both cock their heads curiously at him. 

“Of course,” Regulus whispers, first in marvel and then it morphs into something between exasperation and disgust. “Of course.” At last, he gets a determined look on his face, slapping his palms on his knees as he sits up from bed and grabs his jumper to go.

“Excuse you, what just happened?” Barty says, increasingly louder throughout his sentence as he realises Regulus is headed for the door, thick wool jumper tucked under his arm. “Hey!”

Regulus throws the boys a look over his shoulder, smirking at them and shaking his head before shutting the door and walking off. He barely catches Evan’s “shush, you baby, I’ll warm ya” before he is out of earshot.

A man with a purpose and half a plan stalks off, beginning the treacherous journey from the Slytherin dungeons to the Gryffindor dormitories.

What is the single thing Regulus knows can keep you from him when you’re otherwise attached at the hip? The cold.

What is the one person you go to for anything and everything, especially dealing with the cold? A certain ragged boy with a wolfish smile that he knows is to be found only behind the portrait of an increasingly annoying woman.

“Password?” The Fat Lady asked, quirking a brow ridiculously high as she regards Regulus with a mutual disgust.

“Catulus leonis.” Regulus does not bother holding back the eyeroll at the ridiculous passphrase.

She looks at him a moment or five longer than she needs, almost as if considering not letting him in despite his answer being perfectly correct, before she finally swings open the door wordlessly.

Regulus mutters a harsh thank you, Pureblood upbringing having knocked some politeness into him he is just not able to forego, no matter how severe his beef – as Sirius says – with the woman is.

When he finally approaches the offending dorm, the door opens fast enough to knock some wind across his face, and he is met with a set of black curls and a superfluous frown that both match his own.

“Regulus. Thank Merlin.”

“Good to see you too, Siri. How'd you know it was me?”

"Recognised your footsteps. Now, c'mon."

Regulus pushes in past his brother and his eyes immediately find Remus Lupin’s bed. To the unaware, it would just look like the scrawny boy was innocently laying on his bed, head propped against a mountain of pillows and reading another one of his paperbacks.

However, Regulus knew better and could see the perfect girlfriend-shaped lump underneath Remus’ jumper, shielded by his arms as he held his book over his stomach.

Or, at least shaped like this rather specific form of his girlfriend.

“Hello, amour, I’ve been looking for you.” Regulus’ voice is addressed to the bump on Remus’ chest, but he looks up at him with a quirked brow and a smug smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“Didn’t know we were on a pet name-basis, Reg. Good to know.” 

“Absolutely not.” Sirius and Regulus chorus at the exact same time, and Regulus fights back the wince at how painfully similar they are in this moment.

“Reggie,” Sirius finally whines. “Your girlfriend’s been stealing my boyfriend for the past two hours. Do something!”

Despite having a very similar sentiment settled in his own chest, Regulus gives his brother a pull yourself together look as he comes up to stand beside him, near the occupied bed. “I’m fairly certain your boyfriend has stolen my girlfriend equally as much,” he tuts.

“Whatever, just do something.” Sirius waves his hand towards Remus’ still very relaxed state with something a bit too close to a pout forming on his face.

“There’s no need to be jealous, Pads, the poor girl’s just cold,” Remus chides, with a teasing glint in his eye that clearly shows he knows his boyfriend is being dramatic for the bit and not actually upset. "Gotta help 'er out."

“‘M not jealous. I’m needy.” Sirius’ deadpan stare is not affected by Remus’ laughter nor Regulus’ barely-contained snort.

“Glad you admit it,” Regulus says slyly, patting Sirius on his shoulder twice, who immediately shrugs his hand off with a scowl.

“Like you’re any better, you slithered all the way up from the snake pit to fetch her. At least I’m open about it.”

Before Regulus has the chance to retort, Remus puts his book down in his lap and reaches out a hand for Sirius, which he immediately takes. “I told you you could come lay in the bed with us, love,” Remus murmurs and swipes his thumb over the back of Sirius’ hand.

If he did not feel the same way, Regulus would have given Sirius hell for how he seemed to absolutely soften in the sunlight of his boy. “Yeah, I know, Moons, I’m just being theatrical.”

Remus laughs once more, and this time his chest rumbling results in a distinct prrrt! coming from the inside of his jumper. Up through the collar, cheek smashed against Remus’, comes the tentative head of beautiful grey-and-white fur and slow-blinking yellow eyes, still riddled with sleep. 

“Good morning, amour,” Regulus coos, ignoring Sirius’ snort as he drops down to squat beside Remus’ bed so his face is lined up with yours.

You pur, stretching beneath the fabric, a single paw escaping beside your head through the collar as you roll over onto your back. Your eyes remained trained on Regulus, and though he knows cats can’t actually smile, he swears you were smiling at him.

“Sorry to wake you, princess,” Sirius drawls as he looks down at you from where he is leaning on the bedpost beside Remus. “But have you seeped up enough warmth for me to get my boyfriend back yet?”

You make a faux hissing sound before ducking your head down, so it’s just barely hidden by the collar.

Remus laughs heartily, setting his book completely away this time so his hand can come up to rest on your cat-form, petting you through his jumper. “It’s alright kitten, take your time.”

The exposed paw lightly hits Remus’ cheek in retaliation, and this time it is Sirius and Regulus’ turn to laugh at his expense. “Ow! I share my warmth with you and this is what I get in return?”

From the movement beneath the fabric, Regulus assumes you’re nuzzling your head against his chest in apology.

“Amour, I brought your favourite jumper of mine and promise to make you so much hot cocoa if I can steal you back. We can be in your dorm room instead of mine, it’s warmer in there, right?” A smile remains consistent on Regulus’ face as he talks to you.

Sirius pats him on the back, murmuring something about you’re so whipped that he doesn’t bother to pay attention to. 

More movement beneath the fabric, and then suddenly your ears are poking out of the neckline again – because why would you make it easy for yourself and use the big exit, when you can squeeze your way through a tight opening? You’re a cat after all.

Remus seems to be thinking the same as he laughs while you attempt to climb out beside his head, soft fur brushing against his skin and making up for the occasional claw you use for traction. 

Regulus attempts to bite back the coos as he sees more and more of you, recognising your movements as sluggish with sleep, no doubt coaxed into it by finally being comfortable.

“Thanks for today, see you again tomorrow, same time?” Remus teases, head turned towards you as you headbutt him lovingly, finally fully escaped from his jumper and standing on his shoulder. He nuzzles you back and scratches your head in goodbye.

Another prrrt! escapes you in greeting as you saunter your way across Remus and plop onto the small strip of mattress on his side where Regulus’ hands are open and ready to receive you. 

“Hi, sweetie,” he whispers as you allow him to scoop you up into his arms while he’s still squatting beside the bed. He holds you like an infant, tight to his body and securely supported. You immediately begin to purr loudly, nuzzling your head even further into his neck and shoulder.

Regulus does not bother to hold back the slight giggle as your caresses tickle him. 

“Good gods, are you two sappy,” Sirius groans, but when Regulus looks up, there is a wide grin on his face. A slightly teasing one admittedly, but a grin nonetheless.

Then, Regulus recognises where Sirius is grinning at him from – properly cuddled up besides Remus on the opposite side of the bed, arms beneath his jumper, soaking up the leftover warmth from you.

“Wait– how did you get there so fast?” Regulus’ voice is almost incredulous, stopping his greeting of you – earning him a harrumphing meow – to narrow his eyes at his brother. “I didn’t even notice you move from beside me.”

“What can I say; I am a dedicated man.” Sirius nuzzles into Remus’ cheek, not much unlike how you were mere seconds ago, albeit his involved a tad many more kisses.

“You’re weird, that’s what you are,” Regulus laughs as he stands up with you in his arms.

You turn around to look up at him with those big, slitted eyes of yours. When you extend your neck further towards his face, Regulus lifts you higher so you can give him the cat-kisses you so evidently wanted, his lips curling at your touch.

Sirius lifts a brow at the two of you. “Yeah. I’m the weird one.” 

Regulus scoffs at him, but when you continue to caress your furry cheeks against his lips and chin, it is difficult for any menace to remain serious.

“Thank you for your deviant supernatural warmth keeping my girlfriend alive, Lupin, but I’d like to steal her away from you now.” 

“By all means, Black, you’ve already stolen her from me once,” Remus harrumphs, pretending to be some scorned faux older brother but his eyes betray his facade; he is happy for you.

Regulus chooses to ignore it nonetheless.

“Brother.” He nods at Sirius. “Soon to be brother-in-law.” He nods at Remus. “We bid you goodnight.”

“Try not to undo all of Moony’s hard work by freezing her right back up with your freakishly cold feet!” Sirius calls after him as he heads towards the door. He then promptly gives out a soft yelp that indicates Remus corrected him in some physical way.

“Goodnight love, goodnight Reg,” Remus calls instead.

“Yeah, bye, doll!” Sirius adds, whispering more to himself, “he’s mine again now.”

You give out a tired meow that is so cute it makes Regulus’ heart clench with endearment. You cuddle properly up into the crook of his neck as he carries you out, softly closing the door behind him with a smile.

He shifts you in his grip so he can look down at you more carefully. “You are so unbelievably predictable. And even cuter than that again, which is saying something,” he murmurs to you and you respond with quiet meows.

He looks at you curiously. “Are you going to remain in cat form the whole night?”

Your tail twitches teasingly, your only other response is a quiet prrt as you close your eyes into the warmth of his neck again. He laughs, covering your feline body with his hands as he carries you, to keep the warmth in.

He sneaks into your dorm – thankfully often unoccupied as Marlene is with Dorcas and Mary is with Pandora – and settles you down onto your plush mattress and pillows. He undresses and gets ready for bed, while you’re resting your head on the pillow, observing him, but just before getting under the covers, he slips on his jumper.

“It’s so soft I could cry, Reggie,” you had whispered to him when you cuddled up to him when he wore it around you for the first time. “I fear I can never let you go now.”

Regulus slides under the blankets with a knowing smile, opening the hem, allowing you to creep under, chest against chest with your head poking out of the collar to rest at the bottom of his neck. 

“I'm no werewolf, but I’ll keep you warm with my love, amour,” he whispered to you in the dark, one hand combing through your fur protectively underneath his own jumper.

He swears, he could hear the little cat snort against his skin.

Regulus fell desperately deeper in love.

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 4 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: you and stanley unknowingly go on a date 

warnings (TW): swearing, illusions of past abuse, alcohol consumption

tags: fluff, early relationship described, pining, slight angst, affection

notes: thank you all for the engagement! hope you enjoy <3

edit 8/27/24: hello! below i have linked an up to date masterlist of all the parts of this continuing series- hope you enjoy <3

word count: 3.9k

| masterlist | part v |

He had somehow managed to drag her out of the basement that day. 

Of course, he had been down there assisting her in any way he could. A high school dropout only knows so much about mechanical engineering and quantum physics. Still, she seemed happy enough to dance around the chalkboard she (he) had dragged downstairs, bouncing off ideas with him contently listening, trying to piece back together complex wiring to get the ominous inverted triangle on the basement wall to whirl back to life. 

She was even more spurred on when he actually engaged, not that he raised his hand like he was back in class (not that he ever remembered doing so when he was in class). She simply seemed grateful that he was attempting to learn anything to help her. To learn how to move this whole fucking thing along. 

She dragged him to the basement quite often now that the shack was half shut down for the winter. He had managed to see a few rounds of locals and tourists through the Murder Hut from early October until Thanksgiving when snow began to fall. Then tourists dried up, and only the locals frequented now, so Stan reduced his hours and gave some more of his time to helping her downstairs during the day. 

Every night was spent downstairs in the basement though, there hadn’t come a day since she stepped through that front door that they both didn’t wander down to the portal. Of course, this was usually then followed by convening upstairs in front of the T.V., Stanford’s journal passed between the two of them.

She had grown more frustrated as of late, raving about alien material and compatibility with human electronics. He did his best to understand, and he followed along very aptly. Always wanting to be an attentive sounding board, and even bouncing his own, albeit stupid, ideas. 

Not that she ever made any indication of them being stupid, and not that she would ever stop him from voicing them. 

Educationally, he felt it was the closest he’d ever gotten to an actual education. Said education being advanced quantum mechanics, but everyone had to start somewhere. 

But now they were out for dinner because, after yesterday’s long night of pacing and chalkboard rants, he thought they deserved to go out on the meager earnings of yesterday’s Murder Hut tour.

That and it had been exactly a year since he first laid eyes on her. Not that he was gonna tell her that. 

He could acknowledge that she may have noticed the amount of time that had past, hence her growing irritation with the lack of progress in getting Stanford back, and her growing hours spent in the dark of the basement. But she more than likely didn’t know of the significance of the exact date, or care, which he figured may be more likely. Especially with the anniversary of Ford’s disappearance having come and gone.

December had been hard for the both of them really, and some things had settled somewhat awkwardly between them from the previous week. 

They both handled the anniversary slightly differently, her with general avoidance, head somehow buried deeper in that god-forsaken journal. He found some semblance of self-soothing in diving head first into holding a conversation with any customer that walked through the front door of the Murder Hut that day. 

Sitting across from each other at the dinner table was hard that night, and for the first time ever, she poured copious amounts of wine into their mugs on a weeknight. The kitchen had been eerily quiet that night, the silence only broken by scrapes of plates and mumbled conversation.

He remembers being disgusted with his hands that evening. Remembers thinking about how he had shoved his brother away that day, how Ford had stumbled from one end of the room into the other just to disappear before his eyes. How his hands had reached for Stanford, calling for him. How the journal made its way back to his hands, but his brother hadn’t. His hand had been constantly grazing his shoulder that day, running along the raised scar, a sickening feeling sinking further into him throughout the day.

They had both shuffled around each other that night, and she had not said so much as good morning and goodnight in her mounting grief, it felt like. She had felt bad about how she handled that day but had felt even worse about failing Stan and Ford. She knew of the hope in Stan’s eyes that day when she had trampled in through the door of the shack, knew the relief he felt in her knowledge and presence. But a year had passed, and she could feel nothing but shame when she looked at him. She saw both twins that night while looking over at his hunched figure across the dinner table. She had said goodnight to Stan and Ford that night and had wandered upstairs wondering if she could wash the image from her eyes in the bathroom sink.

They had both returned to normal by Thursday but had grown more determined than ever before. So yeah, Stan figured a night out may be deserved. 

She seemed happier now, sitting crisscross from him in the Greasy’s diner booth, elbows on the table as she reached over to draw along the corners of his paper placemat with the crayons she had swiped from some kid on the way in. 

Something that made him chuckle for a little too long. He must be a bad influence. He had sticky fingers and she knew it. It now seemed to be a competition between the two of them, who could steal the most random of objects. 

Her hand was out, shielding the drawing on his placemat as she switched between the meager 4 colors the shitty diner crayon pack supplied. He nudged her hand aside as she giggled. 

“No! My masterpiece! Give me a second you grump.” 

“It better be good, Picasso, you’re hoggin all the crayons.” 

She handed over the red one, and he elected to reach across to her own paper placemat, beginning to draw his usual comic-book-style figures. One of the figures, oddly enough, began to look like her. 

Her face was so close to her drawing she might as well have been kissing the table, when she shot up, smiling at Stan and looking for approval. 

“Ta-Da!” She moved her hand, showing a mish-mash of red, blue, green, and purple. 

He stared contemplatively, sitting back in his seat humming. In truth, he had no idea what he was looking at, but he would entertain giving an “expert” review. 

“Hmmmmm, now the color selection may be controversial to some but I think the blue and the purple over here are just lovely. Truly an emotional piece mhm.” He nodded his head, pointing at the corner of colors. 

“You have no idea what it is, do ya?”

“Not a clue Doc.” 

She laughed, pointing to the blue and purple figures. “Okay so these are two llamas and they are totally in love. You can tell by the cool rainbow and shooting star I put by them.” She pointed at what he figured was the “rainbow and shooting star” between said “llamas”. 

“And they are here in Gravity Falls because I drew a bunch of pine trees behind them!” She pointed to what he supposed was the foreground and the mess of green sprigs she had tried to draw. 

He hummed again. “Very moving, very touching Doc.” He moved to wipe a fake tear, sniffling along with his act. 

“I ain't much of an artist, am I Stan?” She laughed, finding humor in her lack of skill. 

He gasped, fake clutching his pearls, an even faker mean expression on his face. “Don’t say that Doc! This is a masterpiece!” 

She smirked. “Okay, then that will be 50 bucks for said masterpiece, pay up!” Hand held out to him she made to grab his placemat. 

“Pretty steep price there kid, don’t get ahead of yourself now.” He conceded. 

She smiled again. “I knew you thought it was shit.” Shaking her head at him she moved to look at his own drawing. “Now what's this?” 

He smacked his hand palm side down on the corner image, a blush on his face. “Nothin’!” 

She nudged his hand now, trying to lift his hand finger by finger. “No! I had to show you mine now fess up! What ya drawing?” 

His hand clenched the corner of the paper placemat, ripping the picture of her from the corner of it and crumpling it up into his hand. 

“Nope!” 

“Yup!” She had risen up with her hands on the table, reaching for the corner paper now clutched above him in his fist. “Lemme see! Don’t do this Stan!” She giggled the entire time.

He panicked at her determination, fisting the paper into his mouth. 

“Gross Stan!” She laughed. “What the fuck!” 

He swallowed the paper, not thinking much of it. Saving himself the embarrassment of having to explain himself. He smiled across from her though, as she cracked up at his over exaggeration. 

She looked just right, under the shitty diner lights. Car headlights flashing as they went by from time to time, he began to wonder how long she would stay. If she would linger around, once Ford had returned. Wondered what it was that note said, that she brought in with her that very first day she burst through their front door. She had put it away after that day, and he never really did get to see his brother’s usual cursive gracing the paper. What was it he had said, to get her of all people out here?

She was too good to linger, he figured, and Gravity Falls felt far too small for someone like her anyway. Even if the unknown waited past their doorstep, they both hadn’t made the move to wander into the woods in search of the creatures Ford had spoken about. Something they had both voiced before over dinner, their shared hesitation to walk too far from their doorstep. If it was just himself he reasoned he would have wandered into the woods looking for signs his brother had been there, he wasn’t fearful of the unknown, he had done plenty of other things that were far scarier than what waited in their backyard. But she was here, and he felt some semblance of duty to watch her back in particular. So they had made a pact to not wander off too far from the other, and they had stuck to that deal even when coming into town. 

The townsfolk hadn’t seen Stan without her by his side since he trampled into the gas station in search of food that very first week. Surprisingly, not too many townsfolk approached her at all when they were out. If it was because he tended to glare at unknown men, she didn’t comment.  

“Order up!” 

Susan made her way back over to their booth, her hands full with two separate plates of short-stacks. 

“For you Mr. Pines.” Settling one plate in front of Stan, Susan moved to place the other in front of her. “And the other for you Mrs. Pines!” 

Brain short-circuiting, he freezes in his motion to grab his fork for his meal. His mouth began to move to correct Susan. 

“Thanks!” She said across from him, a panicked look in her eyes. Face creeping up into a flush as she thanked the waitress. 

Susan made her way away from the table after exchanging common pleasantries, all the while he sat in suspense. 

Only after he could swear Susan was out of earshot did he lean into the table, chest close to his plate to whisper across at her. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

She looked beyond guilty, ringing her table napkin in her hands as her eyes flickered to every corner of the diner that didn’t contain him. 

“I-I may have… accidentally… at some point, perhaps…” She sighs, knowing the drive home will be silent, absent of the usual radio. At least it would be if they couldn’t make it through the mistake she had made all those months ago. “Accidentally, sorta, maybe, kinda, let Susan think that we were married?” Her voice rising in octave, her hands running along the rim of the diner table now. 

He sits back, disbelief struck him. How the fuck had she managed that? 

She answers his question unknowingly. “Okay, so for your birthday in June, remember how I begged you to come to town?” A nod. “Well, you know how I snuck off to Greasy's to get you some birthday pie?” Another nod, remembering how she had been so happy to have correctly guessed his favorite kind that night. He hadn’t even chastised her about the money she had spent on him. 

She continues, hands now flying around, trying to flick the memory away. “Okay well, when I got the pie from Susan she had called my order and she called me Mrs. Pines. And I just…. froze up… and I didn’t know how to explain- well everything.” Her voice picks up speed. “I’m not good at lying, like I can do it, but she just caught me off guard. And we hadn’t discussed what we were gonna tell people- like what we were gonna tell people about us living together? And I thought of Ford and all that bullshit-“ she slumps further into the booth seat. 

“And well, ya I just…I just didn’t correct her.” 

Staring at him, expectantly now. Perhaps waiting for him to explode on her. But all he can manage to do is unravel his fork from his napkin and dig into his pancakes to finally take a bite. Chewing around it, he finally can ask something. He’s less likely to yell with his mouth full. 

But the question dies on his lips. He feels more confused by the second, and then more frustrated also. The silence she figured would follow in the car seems to have raced ahead and sits between them at the table now. Her appetite diminishes by the second, and she no longer waits for some sign from Stan, some indication of acceptance. She didn’t figure there would be, she knew she had fucked up. Or at least, fucked up by not telling him about all this sooner, but she had more or less forgotten in between work and well… enjoying living alongside him. But perhaps the arrangement she had unknowingly shoved him into wasn’t something he was comfortable with, which was understandable. She hadn’t ever really believed herself marriage material, and more or less figured she was even less so in Stan’s eyes. 

He knew she wasn’t the best liar, their old conversation concerning his name had rushed back to him. He hadn’t wanted there to be any lies between them, because he knew it would be difficult for her to upkeep them on top of everything else. That and he believed that their arrangement and reliance on one another wouldn’t work in the slightest if they were just spilling bold-faced lies back and forth to each other. But this arrangement she had stumbled headfirst into came as a surprise. Perhaps they should have rehearsed something to say to everyone who asked about them, but then again Susan didn’t really ask, she had just assumed that they were together, were married. He understood her stumbling into something like that, but he was struggling to find a way back out of it. Because he couldn’t allow her to live attached to him like this, didn’t want her to have to lie for their own comfort. 

A lingering worry in the back of his mind, concerning his past. What if it all came rushing back? What if someone was out there looking for him? What if they hurt her?

He was far past frustrated, not at her though. At all the scrapping and clawing he had to do just to get here, to wind back up in the comfort of lies to survive. But he didn’t want her scraping by with him through this, he wanted her to live. At least before today, he believed she could leave him behind if it all fell apart under him. Always an escape plan somewhere in the back of his head, a way out, a door to reach in the dead of night. But she had shut it, and he didn’t know how he was gonna get her out of it now. 

They finished dinner in silence, something that also rubbed him the wrong way. He was frustrated, and taking it out on her. She folded into an odd shape across from him, now looking dim in the diner light. It only served to frustrate him more. 

Susan didn’t comment or come by to further disturb them through dinner, which was odd for the waitress. She liked to talk, and Stan knew that the south half of town would know about their silent dinner by Friday night. 

Bill paid, they made their way back to Stan’s car. His coat caught up in her arms, he opened her door and shut it again after she entered the car without so much as a prompt. 

He didn’t voice a single word until he made it to his seat, he had been too wound up concerning what she had said. That and he hadn’t wanted anyone else to hear their conversation. To know about the lie she had sown, tying them unknowingly together. 

“So you’re tellin’ me that this town has thought that we’ve been a couple, no married, for about six months?” His hands tight against the steering wheel. 

“Well no, because it was just Susan. Like, maybe just a few people know?” She reasoned.

He shakes his head, chuckling. That’s not how small towns like Gravity Falls worked. “Nah, she told everyone. People in this town are nosey Doc. Everyone’s gotta know by now.” 

He adjusts himself in his seat again, reaching his hand out to the back of her seat, like he always does. She’s swallowed by his red coat, her hand meticulously passing the patch he had put across his right shoulder. Humming to fill the silence. He sighs. 

“This is gonna be hard, Doc. I get why ya shrugged off the assumption Susan made, really I do, but that doesn’t change the fact ya didn’t tell me.” His hand rubs his eyes, frustration seeping off of him. How the fuck was he gonna pull this off?

“What do you mean?” She interrupts. “It won’t be that hard Stan, we can manage this, it won’t be too hard.” She shakes her head, trying to smooth over his frustration.

“How am I supposed to convince this whole fucking town you married some sorry-sap like me doll?” He points between them, an intensity to his eyes. “Now this will be the hardest con. Because why the fuck would you have married me, huh?” He shrugs, throwing his hands up. 

Looking over his scarred shoulder, feeling regret seep through his bones when he sees her now. Sitting there, his winter coat hung off her shoulders, a look of disbelief on her face. An apology on her tongue, he could almost hear it now. 

“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “What’d I tell ya Doc, don’t apologize to me.” He turns back to face her now, still shaking his head. 

“No.” Anger blooming on her face. “No, why the fuck would you say that Stan. Why the fuck would you even think that.” 

She was fuming, a look crossing her face he had never seen before. He had never seen her this thrown before, and he hadn’t the smallest inkling as to why her anger grew tenfold in the face of his statement. 

“Because I ain’t no good and you damn well know it!” Voice raising, hackles rising. 

“No!” She shakes her head, fingers fisted into his coat sleeves. “You are good, Stan! I don’t wanna hear that utter bullshit from you, don’t say that to me. I don’t believe it, not for a second.” Shaking her head, refusing to leave his gaze. "You're kind to me, you're considerate to me. You're good to me." She reasoned. But he was only ever really good to her if anything. Only kind in the face of her everything.

He thinks of his parents then, their image mirroring their own, but only for a moment. Arguments in front seats of cars and in front of televisions. How they would bend and snap back to each other, how he figured his father would snap and his mother would lie, to soothe him. She would lie, to see the end of the argument, to soothe frustration and heal hurt. But he figured it had more to do with his father's temper more than anything, more to do with raised voices and raised fists. But she was a terrible liar, his Doc, and he would swear to be less of a terrible grump.

He slumps in his seat, turning glassy eyes ahead of him. 

“I just didn’t want you to have to lie for me, hun.” He hadn’t called her that in weeks, a flickering memory of that dream always made him flush at the enderment. But he enjoyed how she melted when he did call her that, so he’d concede his embarrassment for her. 

“Stan, we can do this.” She slides closer, into the middle spot of the long bench, reaching her hand to his chin and pulling him into an earnest gaze. “Stan we can do anything, we will do anything, to get your brother home. And if it means lying like this then I'm prepared to do it.” She chuckles, humourlessly. “Especially because I’m the one who got us into this mess.” 

She’s beautiful, he thinks, this close. Diner light seeping in through the dashboard window, her eyes looking deeper than he'd ever been allowed to notice. She's even more beautiful, as she giggles across from him, slipping a stolen diner spoon into his hand. Slipping her fingers around the stolen object and his fingers. He chuckles finally, he's a terrible influence. His heart settled into that familiar aching sickness, something he doesn't dismiss as much now. Now that it felt as familiar as her. There was a certain comfort he fell into when it came to the feeling and her now, one that made his heart race.

It wasn’t a mess though, what she had done, but it did solidify what he had to do next. 

He had been thinking about it for a while, thinking about what sitting in one spot would bring to his, their, doorstep. Thought of the crimes he had left behind, skipping from state to state. It's what had kept him up late at night during those early summer months. What had made him linger around the door late some of those nights also, what if it all caught up to him? Would she be safe? 

No, he figured now. Now that she had intrinsically tied herself to him, she was safest next to him. That she hadn't shut any door, that there was a way out, but only for the old him. So she wouldn’t be leaving, but that old part of him would have to. Protect her, them.

He sighs, ready for the conversation they would have to have. He would have to be more honest about himself, he warmed, kinda like her. But really only with her. 

“There's something I gotta do then, hun.” He shuffles, leaning into her warm palm along his cheek. “I gotta die.”

She pales next to him. 

[nep-neptune-0]

5 AM

Xiangli Yao x Reader

Summary: You always had a habit of staying overnight at Huaxu Academy, tinkering away at your latest project; Xiangli Yao had a habit of visiting you for new ideas at the crack of dawn.

Content: fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n: immediately downloaded the game after seeing an edit of him, got him through the Moon-Chasing Festival event and now I'm writing fanfic for him, sorry if I didn't portray him correctly!! I'm new to the game lmao

A few quick knocks pulled you out of your flow. What was the time? You threw a quick glance at your clock, almost 5 a.m.. That marked the 3rd night you had spent in the workshop, tinkering on your new creation. You slid your safety goggles up to your hairline, trying to blink away the blur that had settled over your vision. You really should start using the ceiling lamp along with your workbench lamp, otherwise you’d risk deteriorating your vision.   

Another sequence of knocks made you scramble up from the saddle stool, reminding you why you stopped your project in the first place. You were at the other side of the room at lightning speed. Your workshop was small, only enough to fit one relatively big table in the middle with a smaller one rammed up at the corner, decked out with tools and machines from your personal collection. The academy was generous enough to lend you various equipment, one of them being a large robotic arm with different functions that was attached to the bigger table, but you didn’t dare to use it unless it was for “serious work” as you liked to call it. 

The door wailed when you pulled it open. You really should oil it like how Xiangli Yao had suggested–

“Hello.”

Oh. 

Speak of the devil. It was always around this time he clocked into work. It was also around this time he visited your workshop, never failing to bring you breakfast, knowing you were more often than not neglecting your needs in pursuit of finishing your latest project. 

Xiangli Yao had crashed into your life just as violently as your prototype had when it hit an unsuspected Spearback. You didn’t think anyone would catch you in the midst of your experiments, since you made sure to do it in the dead of night far, far away from the city. But he had, and he was kind enough to escort you back to the academy, buying you breakfast before that. He had asked you about your creations, and without really thinking you started talking about your passion for battle focused tools and gushed over previous projects like they were your children. Afterwards, you had thought it was the first and last time you would have any kind of interaction with the Principal Investigator, but before you knew it, he was outside your workshop, asking you if you were down to discuss ideas for the next modification on his prosthetic arm. 

If you had thought a bit further, you probably would have questioned why he went to you specifically, a rookie, when there were an abundance of talented engineers and mechanics alike who could bring his ideas to life much more efficiently and with better quality. But you were too wrapped up in the excitement of creating something new you had ushered him inside, grabbing the only available chair that wasn’t on its last legs for him to sit on while you grabbed your notebook, eyes gleaming. 

The added mod had been a success after shedding blood, sweat, and tears day and night. You got to witness it with your own eyes when he asked you to head out with him at the first sign of light. The sunlight had painted him golden, and suddenly you weren’t as focused on his prosthetic as much. His movements had you entranced, not even daring to breathe in case it would disturb the vision in front of you. And that damn smile he directed towards you after defeating the enemy fully stole your breath away. Xiangli Yao was an unfair man.

As thanks, he had gifted you a saddle stool made of leather for your posture (though you still hunched over the desk like a shrimp) and for the fact your previous chair was merely a wooden one that would disintegrate at any given moment. You thought that would be it, but of course he defied your expectations and showed up a few weeks later, breakfast in hand with another idea. From then on he seemed to be keen on consulting you about potential modifications, ranging from battle focused ones to the more silly ones, like his ice maker that you had the honor to partake in creating. And before you knew it, he started spending some rare days in your workshop instead of his office, typing away and doing what scholars do while you were working on all different kinds of projects.

You had to admit you had developed a soft spot for the Principal Investigator during the times you spent together. You could never pinpoint when his visits started feeling like a part of your routine, or when you started looking forward to those moments. And somewhere along the way, you stayed behind just to catch him before you headed home, something you’d never admit to anyone or anything.

“I saw your light was on, so I thought to swing by before going to my office. I bought some Huanglong omelets–” he handed you a paper bag “–I also have an idea for a modification we could add to my prosthetic.”

That spurred you to pull out papers and different colors of pens, spreading them out on the bigger table before turning the ceiling lamp on. He had already started sketching before you even got an omelet in your mouth. 

You seated yourself on your chair and rolled to the other side of the table, eyes tracking every swipe of his hand to see the idea bloom on paper. His newest idea was battle oriented. Specifically some kind of tool that could give him the opportunity to snare and damage multiple opponents at once. You weren’t sure what went on in his head for such brilliant ideas to form, but you thanked the dragons out there for letting you witness it so intimately.

As he was sketching, he described his thought process, pausing sometimes to glance up at you for feedback, but you were busy stuffing your cheeks with omelet, barely able to sound out coherent sentences. 

Before long you had finished your breakfast, energized and ready to give some ideas yourself. You bounced ideas between each other. 

“For this,” Xiangli Yao circled one of his scribbles, “we can add a tool akin to a black hole that will detonate on the enemy I defeated, gathering the rest of them in one place while I’m charging up for an attack. I have an idea on what material we can use…”

You were absolutely starstruck.

“Xiangli Yao, the man you are.” You climbed on the table, crawling a short distance to get closer to him before rising to your knees and cupping his face in your hands, slightly shaking his head back and forth. “I’m sure you’ve heard this more than enough– but you are a genius.” 

A faint hue of pink dusted over his cheeks, and it was only then you realized how close you were to him. 

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “Sorry I got carried away–”

Your panic was interrupted by the chill of his metal hand settling over yours. He looked up at you with such puppy eyes that were swirling with an indescribable emotion you wondered how you never noticed. 

Before you knew it, his other hand settled on the back of your head, and you were pulled down. 

His lips were soft. 

The sheer gentleness he treated you with sent electricity crackling in your veins. Your eyes fell shut and you could hear your heart beating in your ears. Your free hand slid down to the back of his neck, fingertips lightly brushing against the hair before it found a place on his shoulder, and you didn’t miss the way he quivered under your touch. 

Xiangli Yao parted with a sigh, eyes fluttering open to unabashedly stare at your face. He intertwined your hands, cool metal palm against the back of your warm hand, and raised it to his lips. Then he pecked your cheek, your forehead, your eyelids, before finally giving you another delicate kiss on your lips. 

“Can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner,” he murmured when he pulled away. You exhaled a laugh.

“I can’t believe it either– oh shit!” You quickly clambered off the table with his help. “I hope I didn’t ruin any of the sketches…”  

“Even if you did, we can just remake them,”  he declared nonchalantly. “Honestly, I would gladly let you ruin my research papers if I get to take you out on a date.”

“You don’t mean that!” you gasped. “You can do that without ruining your work.”

He smiled. “I wasn’t planning on it, don't worry. I’m gonna head to my office now. Just give me a call if you have any other ideas.”

“Will do, will do.”

“I’ll come pick you up at 6 pm today.” He gave you a quick kiss before making his way to the door. “See you then.”  

You were left a blushing mess in your workshop, now a new project and a date in your hands. 

Xiangli Yao was truly an unfair man.

[eddiesxangel]

Take Me to the Lakes 6/6

cw: angst, hurt/ comfort, smut, dirty talk, daddy dom eddie, oral (f &m), p in v, anal play, use of y/n, MDNI 18+

wc: 8.4k

AN: it's been a long time coming, but the last chapter is here! I've been writing this fic for a year since I posted it as an OCx Eddie. But it deserved to be a reader insert, so I revamped it for you guys. Thank you all for taking the time to read the first Eddie series I ever started. ily all. I hope you enjoyed it <3

As the last days of camp dwindled, for the first time, you found yourself overwhelmed by an intense longing to be back in Hawkins. Each day passed in a blur, leaving you feeling numb and disconnected. Despite the efforts to maintain a composed façade for the children, you were merely going through the motions. 

You couldn't shake off the weight of the final exchange with Eddie, and the girls' attempts to help were in vain. Regret consumed you as you grappled with the realization that your actions had caused Eddie unnecessary pain. The thought of losing Eddie forced you to confront the need for change in your life, as you could not bear the prospect of living without him any longer.

The drive home seemed quicker than in previous years. The four hours it took to get home felt like nothing as your mind raced about how to make up for your mistake. You got over your pride quickly as you yearned for Eddie's company. You had everything you ever dreamed of, and you ruined it. 

The time spent falling for one another all went to waste as you tore his heart right out of his chest when you told him this was just a summer fling. Not only did you break his heart, but you also broke your own. How could you have done this to him? How could you have let your pride take over what your heart was screaming at you to take?

 Eddie was the only good thing to happen to you, the right person for you. He was kind, caring, unapologetically himself, funny, generous, looked out for others, and was light and love. You had to win him back. He was everything to you; he was the end game. So you devised a plan to get him back.

~

You’ve been home for two weeks and still have not heard from Eddie. You called him as soon as you got home, but he would let it go to the answering machine each time you called. You must have looked pathetic, begging him to talk to you. Every day, you would call once without letting up. Your sorrowful words flooded the machine so much that Eddie’s uncle Wayne was about to block your number, but Eddie stopped him. 

“What’s going on with you and this girl needs to be addressed, or I’m getting a restraining order,” Wayne huffed. 

He didn’t mean it, but your calls in the middle of the day woke him up since he was on the night shift. For the fifteenth day in a row, you called, the anticipation building up with every ring until you finally heard someone on the other line answer.

“Hello?” The voice was weathered and rough, nothing like your Eddie. 

Have you been calling the wrong number this whole time? You got his number off Ash; she wouldn’t have had it wrong?

“H-hi,” you stuttered, not expecting any time to pick up the call, “is Eddie there?” 

“No, darlin’, he’s at work. Doesn’t wanna talk to you, though. I know you keep calling, but he's busy, and I'm trying to sleep, so please stop calling.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir! Won’t happen again.” Your heart sinks at the reality of his words. 

“Thanks”

“Sir, before you go, can you relay a message to him?”

“Sure.” 

You can tell he's annoyed. 

“Can you tell him that I’m so sorry and that I love him?” your voice cracked at the words. 

“Sure thing,” Wayne’s voice softened. He had no idea what transpired this summer between you and Eddie, but he didn’t know love was involved until now. 

“Thank you… it’s y/n, by the way.” You tried to keep your sniffles to a minimum. 

“Goodbye “y/n” 

~

When Eddie got home that night, Wayne was already making his version of nighttime breakfast. 

“Boy, sit down,” Wayne instructed as Eddie entered their shard trailer.

“Can’t I shower first?” Eddie looks at his greased-up coveralls and hands. 

“Nope, you’re going to sit and listen.”

“Feel like I’m twelve again,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Now, I don’t know what happened between you and that girl who keeps calling, but you need to work it out, son.”

Eddie doesn't respond, but Wayne can see the wheels in his head turning. 

“She called again.” Wayne sighed heavily. “I spoke to her.”

“You what?” That caught Eddie’s attention.

“She asked me to tell you that she is sorry and that she loves you.”

“I-“

“No, listen here,” he pointed the black spatula at his nephew.

"Never in my lifetime did I think you would be able to find a girl in this town who would finally see what I’ve seen your whole life? I’m not going to let you throw that away for some stupid argument.”

“It wasn’t stupid, old man; she’s embarrassed by me.” 

“Didn’t sound like that to me; she was crying. She’s been calling every day for a fortnight. I think it’s time to hear her out. Clearly, she ain’t giving up without a fight. You don’t get that kind of love nowadays.” He turned to flip his fried egg.

“She’s too good for me; the princess of Hawkins can never be with the freak.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Show her you are growing! You’ve got a real job, boy, a good steady one. None of that selling drugs bullshit, keep in line with the law, don’t fuck this up.” 

“She hurt me, old man.” 

“I don’t disagree that she did, but she had a reason for her doubts…” Wayne trails off, knowing well that his nephew has been slacking when it comes to growing up. Three repeats of his senior year, selling drugs, getting caught for petty crimes, and people thinking he worships Satan. 

“Clearly, you care for this girl; I can tell you’re moping around. 

“I’m not moping.” 

“Don’t talk back.”

“Sorry.”

"Fix it, Ed. Now you can go shower. You stink”

~

Three weeks into the fall semester, you finally gave up on trying to call Eddie. The day you spoke to Wayne was the last day you called, but it didn’t stop you from repeating his phone number in your head for some source of comfort. 

Ash had seen him here and there and told you how he was doing even though he had asked her not to say anything; her loyalty lay with you. 

She told you he had played her the messages, so he had received them, but he was choosing to ignore you even though, in her words, “he looks like shit.” 

You try to keep a brave face before your parents and classmates, but you’re starting to break. Ashley saw it the second she laid eyes on you. 

She consoled you as you broke down in her arms. You apologized over and over again because you knew that she was also friends with Eddie and had already heard his side of the story. 

~

“I can’t stand seeing you like this,” Ashely sighed as she walked into the dusk-lit trailer with Eddie.

“Well, you can thank your best friend for that.” His tone was sharp. 

You had already called Ashley that night to tell her what had happened, and the second she hung up the phone, she raced over to the Munson’s.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it; she is under a lot of pressure.”

“She did mean it. She meant it and didn’t even have the decency to tell me straight up. Then she had the nerve to tell me she loves me.” Eddie scoffs. 

“She does love you, Ed. She’s loved you since she accidentally burst into the Vecna campaign.”

“No way.”

“Yes, way. She has always had a thing for you; she was too scared to do anything. A) because she didn’t think you were into her and B) the pressure her parents put her under to be the perfect student, child, dancer, or valedictorian should be borderline child abuse..."

"Her parents would disown her, they would stop paying for her college, and they would probably kick her out if they learned their perfect angel was with you. So yea, what she did was awful and shitty, but it isn’t because she wanted to. It was because she had to.” 

“She never told me much about her home life…” Eddie turned back to face Ash, leaning back against his amp. 

“Because she is too proud. She feels this need always to be perfect, to always be on. Have you noticed how she ensures everyone around her is cared for before herself? Have you taken the time to sit and really watch her? She is the one person I know who is actually so kind-hearted and has no altered motives behind her actions.”

“She still ripped my heart out and stomped on it.”

“And she regrets it all, Eddie. I’ve never seen her like this. Please just take some time and think hard. She is sorry, and she loves you truly. I don’t know why. I don’t see the appeal, but she’s head over heels. Trust me. I’ve heard enough about the two of you to last me six lifetimes…” 

“She’s told you about…that?” Eddie’s eyes go wide.

“And then some. She’s my best friend. What did you expect?” 

“I dunno? You’re not into men, so I thought she wouldn’t share those details?” He chuckles awkwardly. 

“No, Daddy.” 

“Get out.” 

A cackle fills the room as Ash tries to escape before Eddie physically pushes her out himself. 

“Ok, ok, I’m leaving. Just think about things, okay?

“Yeah, whatever.” Eddie shrugged and closed the screen door behind her. 

~

“He’s never going to forgive me.” You lay back on your bed. You and Eddie have been broken up for a month and a half. 

“I think he will come around; he is stubborn.” Ashley joins you. 

“This town is so small. How have I not bumped into him yet?”

“Probably because he got a new job, he’s always there. We haven’t had time to come up with a date for the next campaign. 

“Do you know what the new job is? Wayne mentioned he was at work when I spoke to him but didn’t say what it was?"

“Beats me,” Ash struggled, letting her head hand off the edge of your bed as she inhaled the smoke from the joint. 

Your parents were away for the weekend, and you had the house to yourselves. 

“You got any snacks?” 

“No, you know my mother doesn’t allow any of the good stuff in the house, and I haven’t had the time to go to the store since school started.” 

“Let’s go get some.” 

“Ok,” You hadn’t taken a hit yet, so you were okay to drive. 

Things were going according to plan. They had exactly what you both wanted at the store and now you’re both on your way back to your place when suddenly, your car stalled at the fork in the road.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" you cried.

"It's okay; there's a payphone up the road. I'll call my dad; his buddy is a mechanic. He can ask for a tow," she reassured you.

"Uh, okay, here," you said as you passed her some change to make the call.

A few minutes later, you saw a baby blue, beat-up-looking truck headed your way.

"Oh, thank God."

The relief was short-lived as you watched the driver jump down from the cab.

Ash flinched when you grabbed her hand and squeezed it so tight that her fingers started turning purple. 

“Owe, what the-“ 

“Hey Ash” 

“Eddie?” She chuckled as a sick and twisted grin grew on her face.

“You called about a tow?” 

“Yeah, her car stalled.” She gestured over to you, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.

Eddie chose to ignore you were there, and you felt like you would throw up. 

“Ok, well, I'll hook it up to the rig; you can get in.” Eddie only spoke directly to Ash, choosing not to look at you. 

You stood there frozen, unable to speak as Ashley pulled you along with her to the tow truck. 

“Well, this is awkward.” She chuckled uncomfortably as you got in after her. 

“He’s a mechanic?” You whisper. 

“Looks like it.”

“What am I going to do?!” You’re panicking. Out of all the scenarios in which you envisioned bumping into Eddie, this was not one of them. 

“Breathe,” Ash instructs. “He is freaking out just as much as you are right now. Trust me.”

“O-oh, okay.” That didn’t settle your nerves in the slightest. 

You jerked when the driver's door swung open, and Eddie got in without as much as clearing his throat. 

“As much as I would love to catch up, I need to get home. Ed, is there any chance you can drop me off?” 

“But your stuff is at my place.” You give her a look. 

“I’ll get it tomorrow; we are almost there anyway.” 

You’re going to be best friendless in about ten minutes if she really thinks she can ditch you now, in your most desperate time of need. 

“Whatever,” Eddie mumbles and makes a left. 

“Thanks, Ed! Bye, babe!” She blows you an obnoxious kiss and turns to her house.

The cab is eerily silent, and not even the radio is on, which is very unlike Eddie. 

“She is so dead,” Eddie mumbles under his breath. 

“You’re telling me.” You agree. 

It’s the first thing you’ve said to him in a month. 

Eddie doesn’t respond, instead he keeps his eyes locked on the road while you try and make yourself smaller, as if that would make you a less of an inconvenience for him.

You were jerked out of your internal screaming when the car jerked into park. 

“We’re here.” He mumbles and gets out. 

Still uncomfortable, you take a second to gather yourself before opening your door. 

You jerk once again as the door is pulled out from under your grasp. 

You stare blankly as Eddie steps aside to let you out of the car. 

“T-thanks.” You don’t know what to do. 

He didn’t talk to you or even look at you, but he’s opening doors for you?

You follow him inside, and he opens the door for you again and tells you to wait until he’s finished. 

You anxiously wait for about forty-five minutes before Eddie returns to the waiting area. He looks devastatingly sexy like this. His coveralls are wrapped around his waist, showing off his black tank top, which clings to his sweaty body. Grease marks cover his alabaster skin. 

“When’s the last time you got this checked out?” His voice is stern. 

“I dunno? A year and a half? Maybe more?” you shrug innocently.

“No wonder it’s so fucked up.”

“Can-can you fix it?”

“You think I can’t fix it? I’m not a moron. I can do my job, y/n” 

Hearing him call you by your name was like a knife to the heart. 

“What, n-no?”

“How could you be so irresponsible!” 

“I don’t know Eddie!” You scream back. 

“What if this happened on your way home from Murdock? You’d be stuck in the middle of nowhere!”

“Well, good thing it didn’t!” 

“God, you’re infuriating” 

“Why do you even care!” 

“Woah woah woah… ok kids take it easy.” A much older mechanic came to step between the both of you. 

“Sorry, Mac,” Eddie steps back.

“Is this guy bothering you, sweetheart?” The older man, now known as Mac, asks. 

“I’m fine,” you say, shaking your head with a sniffle. 

“Ed, get back to work.” He ordered. 

“Your car might take a while, Miss. Do you want us to drive you back and pick you up when it’s ready?” 

“No, thanks, I’ll wait here.” You didn’t want to leave without your car. 

“It’s up to you. If you change your mind, let us know. Ed can drive you back.”

Sitting here for hours in silence was better than being trapped back in a car with Eddie for 15 mins.

“Thanks.” 

~

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over the horizon, you could feel your impatience growing. The tension in the air was palpable as if it could be sliced with a knife. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts as you grappled with how to approach him.

The mechanics left one by one until only Eddie and you remained. Unable to contain your restlessness any longer, you stuck your head into the garage area. The overpowering scent of motor oil and dirt floods your nostrils, hitting you like a wall. You struggled not to gag, but Eddie’s notice of your disgust did not escape.

“Sorry, this place isn’t clean enough for you, Princess.”

His inflection on your usual pet name was so harsh that you physically jerked back.

“I was just wondering how long it will be?” 

“Almost done.” 

“O-ok. Thanks” 

“I’m not doing you a favour. It’s my job.”

“You never told me you like working on cars.” You don’t know why you’re trying to keep the conversation going. Maybe you missed the sound of his voice, or maybe you’re a glutton for punishment? Maybe you missed him so bad you thought your heart would leap out of your chest if you didn’t touch him. 

“Like is a strong word. I’m good at it.” He shrugs. 

“You’re good at a lot of things,” the compliment slips out. 

“Whatever.” He sniffs and gets down on the creeper to take a look underneath. 

You choose to stay and watch him work; no one else is around to tell you otherwise. 

When Eddie reappears, he is surprised to see you sitting on the stool watching him work. 

“What are you still doing here?”

“Eddie, can you please talk to me?” You feel the lump in your throat start to suffocate you.

“I’m working.” Eddie lets out another sigh of frustration. 

“Ok, fine; you don’t have to talk, but will you please just listen?”

Eddie chooses to ignore you and rolls back under the car. You don’t care you’re going to talk anyway. 

“I got scared, baby.” 

The term of endearment tugged on Eddie’s heartstrings as much as he didn’t want them to. 

“I’m so scared. I’ve never felt like this before about anybody, and the thought of it being stripped away from me was too much. I don’t talk about my parents because they put me on this pedestal. I knew they wouldn’t accept you no matter how unbelievably wonderful and beautiful you are. So I panicked…” you take a deep breath to compose yourself. 

Eddie rolls out from under the hood and sits up on the creeper. 

“I’m an embarrassment then? I can’t possibly be good enough, so you strung me along all summer like a pathetic, lovesick idiot for thinking you could actually be with someone like me, so you could what?…”

“I didn’t string you along! I didn’t know this would happen between us, but I know I love you, Eddie!” You didn’t think you had any more tears left to cry, but you were wrong. Your eyes started to well. 

“I don’t believe you.”

“Please, baby, believe me, I don’t care what anyone else will think anymore! I’ll get disowned. I don’t care. I need you to understand, even if you don’t love me back.” You slip off the stool onto your knees so you’re face to face with the man you love. 

“You don’t think I love you?! You really believe that?” 

You shake your head no, ashamed to look at him.

“I hurt you; I understand that you don’t want me.” 

“You really think I could spend the whole summer with you and not fall in love?” He shook his head in disbelief. 

“What are you saying?” You want to reach out and touch him, but hold yourself back. 

“Of course I love you! I’m changing for you! I’m staying out of trouble; I got this job to get on my own two feet! To prove to you that I can be that guy!”

Not caring anymore, you launch yourself at him, connecting your lips and arms around his neck. 

Eddie couldn’t help himself. His body acting on instinct, he fell back into routine and kissed you back immediately. 

Not thinking about his dirty hands, he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in closer until your bodies pressed up against one another. 

The moment your bodies touched, you felt like you were on fire. Everything felt so right like you were whole once again. 

Regretfully, Eddie pulled away first. 

“I’m so sorry,” you plead once more. 

“It will take some time, but I want you more than I want to be mad at you.” He cups your face and smears some grease on your cheek as he tries to wipe away the tear stain. 

“Really?”

“I love you, I never got to say it. I would tell you our last night before things blew up in our faces.” 

“I love you, Eddie.” 

A small smile creeps from his lips. 

“Oh shit, you’re so dirty.” 

“You know I like it dirty,” you can't help but smirk.

“No, no, your shirt and your,” he motions to your cheek. 

“It’s okay.” You shrug, and an awkward silence settles between you. 

“Um, so,” Eddie clears his throat.”

“Kiss me?”

“Your wish is my command, Princess.”

Your car was fixed by 9:00 p.m., and you offered Eddie a night, but he felt it was too soon to jump back into things. It stung a little, but you understood that not all was forgiven just yet. So you parted ways at the garage but saw a light at the end of the tunnel. 

~

Things between you and Eddie have been better—not great, but better. He calls you on his days off, but you haven’t fully been forgiven by him just yet. 

You haven’t spent any one-on-one time since he fixed your car two weeks ago because he’s been that slammed with essays, and you have to get ready for midterms. 

“I was down at the mechanic yesterday, and you won’t believe who is working there.” Your dad huffs. 

“Who?” Your mom replies. 

You can’t help but overhear as you study at the kitchen table. 

“The Munson boy.” 

Uh-oh. 

“Really?”

“Wouldn’t want him fixing my cars, probably mess it up even more.”

“He fixed my car two weeks ago.” You interjected. 

“What?” Your mom snapped her head to you.

Ok, guess this conversation is happening now.

“He isn’t like what people say.” 

“How exactly would you know this?” Your father squints at you suspiciously. 

“Because I worked with him all summer at camp, and I learned a lot about him.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” You nod point blank.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” your dad asks, and your mother scolds him for such a question. 

“I’m an adult,” you bite back.

“What are you saying y/n?” Your mom asks.

“Eddie is good, and kind, and gentle. He isn’t a devil-worshiping deviant that everyone thinks.”

“Sounds like you’re very fond of this Munson kid.” Your dad was not amused. 

“I am. I’m in love with him.” You swallow your fear. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I’m in love with Eddie. I have been for a long time, and this summer, we were together.” You breathe.

“I will not allow this!” Your father booms.

“Calm down, let’s hear her out.” Your mom was much more level-headed about this than you anticipated. 

“What?” Your father and you both look to your mom. 

“Have we not raised her to make her own choices?” 

No way your mom was on your side?

“I will not have my child tainted by that scoundrel!”

“We’ve been together all summer! Have I changed at all?! Have I not done everything by your book? I was valedictorian! I was homecoming queen! Prom queen! A cheerleader! I was on the debate team! I was on the student council! I’m in college for business! I have been the perfect child for you, and you don’t have the decency to hear me out!” 

Your father and mother were shocked. You had never spoken back to them before. 

“This is bullshit.” You walk away from your studies, grab your purse and walk out. 

You drive, you drive until you reach the trailer park on the other side of town. 

You didn’t even know what one was Eddie’s, but you were hoping that you would see his van. 

You drive down the gravel road, and you hear nothing but your heart pounding and the crunch of the rocks beneath your tires. 

You almost reach the end of the park when you take out a breath of relief when you see the van on the right side of the lot. 

You pull up and park behind it before you breathe heavily. 

Would he even want to see you? You weren’t sure but needed to see him, no matter how selfish you were. 

You tentatively give the screen door a few knocks and wait anxiously. 

A few moments pass before you hear footsteps, and a figure appears from behind the small window of the door. 

You freeze when you see the older gentleman standing on the other side of the frame. 

Shit. You woke up his uncle…. Again. 

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Munson,” you apologized before you went to go back to your car. 

Stupid, why don’t you ever think before you act? You knew his uncles would be sleeping. 

“Hold on now, are you that girl my boy has been hung up on.” 

“Uh- yea, I guess so.” You stop in your tracks. 

“The one who keeps waking me up?” He chuckles, and you physically cringe. 

“Look about that. I am so sorry, I completely forgot, didn’t realize the time-“

“It’s ok, hun. Do you want to come in? Ed isn’t home, but he should be shortly.”

“Really?”

“Please.” He waves you in, and you walk back up the porch steps and inside Eddie’s home. 

“Haven’t had a guest in a while; sorry about the mess” 

You look around, and you can’t spot the mess he’s talking about.

“Don’t worry about me.” You stand in the room awkwardly, not knowing where to go.

“Have a seat, darling,” he offers a kitchen table chair. 

“Want anything to drink? I’m making myself a coffee.” 

“Coffee is nice” 

“How do you take it?”

“Two sugars, one cream please”

“Coming right up.”

You fiddle with the hem of your sweater, not knowing what to do with your hands. Usually, you’re good at talking to people, strangers or not, but in this case, you can’t find the right words.

“I really am so-“

“If I hear you apologize one more time, I’ll ask you to wait outside.” He chuckles again. 

“Oh- sor-,” you catch yourself and just stop talking altogether. 

“So, I see why Ed is head over heels for you” 

You blush as he sets a Garfield mug in front of you.

“You think he’s really head over heels?” you air quote. 

“You have no idea. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone. Was starting to get worried.” He laughed again. He was happy Eddie was finally happy. 

“I still think he’s mad at me for what happened.” You take a sip of the sweet liquid. 

“He will get over it. He tried to hide it, but I’ve known him from the time he popped out of his mama. He is in love.”

You can’t help but feel the rush of heat travel to your cheeks again. 

“I hope so.” You sigh just as the hinges to the front door squeak. 

You both look over, and Eddie’s large frame fills the hole as he enters the living room. He’s changed out of his coveralls, but his hands and face are covered in grease.

“Princess?” He questions before a smile breaks his face. 

He hasn’t seen you since the garage. 

“Hi,” you stand up to hang him. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks surprised.

“I told my parents.” You pull back.

“You what!” You didn’t think his chocolate eyes could get any bigger. 

“I don’t want you to be a secret.” You cup his curious face in your hands.

“R-really?”

“No, baby. I love you. I want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you, too.”

“So, do you forgive me?”

“After I talked some clear sense into the boy, he’s forgiven you.” Wayne nods his head.” You forgot for a moment that you weren’t alone. 

“Shouldn’t you be hitting the road, old man?” 

“Trying to get rid of the old guy so you can have quality time together… I see how it is.” He nods solemnly. 

Your face heats up with embarrassment at the innuendo. You bury your face into Eddie’s chest to hide, and Eddie waves off his uncle to leave for his shift, and his uncle laughs menacingly as he shuts the door behind him. 

“So…” you fill the silence now that you’re finally alone for the first time in months. 

“I’m going to shower,” he jerks his thumb over his shoulder and heads to the bathroom. You know, dirt and all,” he motions down his body.

“Ya-of course! I’ll uh, I’ll wait here.” You stand in the middle of the room, trying to take up as little space as possible. 

“Relax, Princess, I’ll be right back.” he kisses your cheek before turning for the bathroom 

As Eddie showered, you couldn’t help but snoop. You saw a door at the end of the hall, and you could only assume it was Eddie’s room based on what you saw through the crack. You slowly pushed the door open and realized your assumption was correct. 

It looked exactly like you thought, and there were no surprises there. 

You investigated further to find a lion costume, and you giggled to yourself. 

“What’s so funny?” You jumped when you felt Eddie’s damp fingers graze up your arms.

“Oh my god! You scared me.” You clutch your chest. 

“Couldn’t help myself, seized the opportunity.”  He flipped you so your chests met.

His chest was bare and damp; only a towel was wrapped around his waist as he caged you in with his strong arms. 

You suddenly realized how badly you wanted him. You craved him every second you were apart, and now you’re so close you could lean in and lick his tattooed chest. 

“Like what you see, princess?” He grips your chin in his thumb and forefinger to tilt your head up to look him in the eyes. 

“Yes,” you sigh unabashedly. 

“Good. Daddy’s missed you, baby.” He whispered before leaning in to kiss you. His hands roam your body, he missed your soft skin, your breasts, your ass. 

You fight back a moan as your pussy clenches at his words. Your body is on fire; you want to do everything to please him, to make him feel good, wanted, and needed. 

Eddie’s hands made their final destination as his kiss deepened. His thick fingers slip into the pockets of your jeans and squeeze, making you roll your hips into his. 

“Need you,” you moan as you pull him in closer by the towel, making it slip.

“Oops,” you giggle innocently like that’s not exactly what you wanted. 

“Naughty girl,” Eddie chuckles darkly before he bends down and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you over to the unmade bed. 

You kiss his neck before he places you down on the mattress. A small growl leaves his lips when you lick his sweet spot. 

You can feel his hard cock pressing into your lower stomach, only making your pussy weep for him. 

Weeks without his touch have been punishment enough for your trepidations. Eddie’s hands found the button of your jeans and popped it open without struggle. The sound of your zipper was so loud as you waited for his hands to touch you. You saved time by taking off your top garments, but you needed to feel him on your skin.

“You’re so ready for me already, aren’t you, Princess?” His hands cupped your pussy over your sodden panties. Eddie watches your face as his fingers played with your clit. The look on your face was what he loved most. Your eyes glazed over, your mouth agape, and he hasn’t even started. The way you submit to him made him feral. 

“Yes, daddy.” Your pussy was throbbing for him.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He stretches out like a cat as his head dips lower as his hands reach up your body to cup your breasts. 

His hands mould themselves to your tits, and his tongue licks a hot wet strip up your soaked slick, basking in your taste. 

He’s craved it ever since that day he left. He wants to devour you, to consume you until he is high off of you.

You grind your hips into his face; you can’t help it. 

“Greedy girl,” he spoke into your pussy, making you quiver beneath him. 

“Ohhh,” your back arched. Your hand gripped his long locks as you tugged them tightly. Eddie knew your body so well; it was like he was designed for you. All of your senses were ablaze, and his name fell from your lips. 

“Not allowed to cum until I say so,” he growls. He knew you were close as his fingers slipped up into your cunt. 

“W-what?” You stutter.

“You’ve been a bad girl” 

“Daddy, please,” you begged, but Eddie didn’t like how whiney you’d become. 

Before you cry at the loss of Eddie’s mouth in your cunt a sharp slap strikes your pussy. 

Your body jerks, but you like it.

“You will listen to me.” You met his gaze, and you understood he wasn’t playing around. 

“Sorry, Daddy.” You whispered. 

“What’s that? I didn’t hear you?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say with more confidence. 

“Good girl, now give me what I want.” 

He sits up, and you follow suit. You knew he wanted your mouth; it’s the least you could do for what you put him through. 

You wanted him. Needed him, yearned for him. 

The way Eddie has you revelling for him was exactly what he wanted. To see you like this, on your knees, begging to take him in your mouth. 

“You want it so bad, don’t you, baby?” He asks as he’s laying on his back, you're between his knees. 

“Yes,” you don’t dare touch him yet, but you want to. 

“You’re going to beg for it, baby”

Now he was just being mean

“But-“

“Are you talking back to me?”

“No, Daddy.” 

“Beg.”

“Please let me touch you.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, even though he had you beat in that department every time. “I want you in my mouth so badly, baby; I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. I crave you.  I want it so bad, please. I want to make you feel so good, baby. I can make you feel so good if you let me.”

“Good girl. Now suck.”

Your mouth watered at the way he spoke to you. You loved how Eddie’s could get so commanding when you fucked. 

You had his cock in your mouth within the second he stopped speaking. 

You licked a long strip up the underside of his shaft that lay flat against his stomach. His cock was so hard for you it only make it all that more pleasurable, knowing he was also yearning as much as you were, if not more, even if his words didn’t show it. 

“Take it’s that’s my good girl,” he praised. 

His hands gripped your hair as he guided your mouth at his desired pace. Your saliva pooled in your mouth, creating a sensation so good that Eddie can’t help but fuck your mouth. 

You loved it, and you wanted him to use you to remind him that only you can get him this way. 

The feeling of his head almost hitting the back of your throat was exhilarating.

 Eddie knows your limits and wouldn’t push your boundaries; he can’t do that to his princess. 

Just before he’s about to cum, he pulls you off to let you breathe; his chest heaves as he waits for you to collect yourself. 

“Come here.” He beckoned you to lay parallel with him. 

Eddie takes you in a kiss that makes your world stop. A kiss that lets you know he truly does love you. The way he was so firm but so gentle, his soft lips moulded with your own. Your taste on his tongue and his taste on yours melded together as one. You roll on top of him; you want your bodies to be connected. 

“Can you fuck me now? Please?” You grind your wet pussy overtop his hard cock, threatening to slip it inside. 

“Is that what my princess wants?”

“Yes, so bad”

“I love it when you beg for it,” Eddie says, flipping you over. You let out a squeal at the unexpected movement. 

“Gonna fuck you until you beg for me to stop” he slowly guides his hard cock into your tight wet pussy. 

Your fingers grip his shoulders as he slips into you. You pull him down so his weight is fully on top of you; you need to feel close to him again. 

Eddie’s lips attach themselves to your neck, biting and sucking until the mark of possession is dark and purple. 

The consequences of having a large hickey when you get home are the last thing on your mind. The way he is making you feel trumps all.

His hips begin to pump his cock in and out of you. Finally, the sensation you’ve been yearning for is finally reality.

“Fuck yes!” You cry as his hips slap into your own, and his hand travels to your swollen clit.

“You like it when I touch you there, don’t you? Dirty girl can’t get enough of Daddy’s cock can she” 

“No, Daddy!” You cry. 

Eddie pulls up so he can watch his slick covered cock disappear inside of you with each thrust. His eyes are deranged with lust as he can’t look away. His hands gripped so tightly on your hips, moving your body to match his strokes as if you were just a fleshlight. 

“Pl-please,” you stutter as his cock hits your g spot without warning. 

“Please, what? Tell Daddy what you want” 

“I want to cum” 

The price Eddie felt that he already had you quivering under him, and it’s only been a few minutes since his cock had entered you.

“Babygirl, what’s to come already?” He mocks. 

“Yes, please,” you seethe through your teeth. 

“Not yet.” 

“I can’t hold it.” Your eyes well up; it felt so good; the pressure built up in your lower stomach was wound so tightly you were about to explode. No way you could hold off. 

Your pussy clamped on Eddie like a vice. He almost couldn’t pull out by how tight of a grip you held. 

“Oh-oh,” he stuttered. You caught him off guard. 

“You wanna be in charge, princess?” He cupped your face.

“No, I just want to cum” you continue to beg as his thrusts didn’t still. 

“Cum for me” his hand continued to curl your bundle of nerves, and you fell apart. Your feral moans filled the room as your body was washed over in a wave of euphoria. You came so hard you think you blacked out for a moment. 

“That’s it; there’s my girl; you fuckin came so good” Eddie still pumped himself into you. He didn’t want it to be over just yet. He was having so much fun playing with you. You were like his little doll. 

“Come on, baby, ride me.” He helps lift you up even though your whole body feels like jello.

“Gonna bounce on Daddy’s cock like a good little bunny,” he praises, and your pussy floods itself once more. 

When you sink down on his cock you see starts. The new angle was so much more filling than when he had you on your back.

“Oh my god,” your eyes roll back, and your jaw hands slack. Eddie seizes the opportunity to push his fingers into your mouth to suck on. 

“Such a good girl. You like all your holes filled, huh? How about this one? We are missing one.” His free hand wraps around your ass and toys with your other hole. 

“Yes,” you frantically nodded your head.

“Mmm, you’re such a slut for me, aren’t you? My little bunny. Just love to hop on this cock, huh?” He takes the fingers that were shoved in your mouth and slowly stretches you out. “That’s it, that’s my girl. Taking all of me so well. You like being so full, don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Your legs burned, but you didn’t dare stop until he came. The sound of your wet skin slapping and moans filled the empty bedroom. The only two people that exist right now are you and Eddie. Eddie’s pleasure was at the top of mind, but you were getting close to that breaking point. Your second orgasm was getting closer and closer with each pump. 

“You’re so tight, pretty baby; you gonna come again, f’me?”

You nod your head frantically as the words get caught in your throat.

“Awe, my pretty bunny can even speak, huh? You’re just sooo cock drunk for daddy’s cock, aren’t you, baby?” 

Eddie’s words only aided your impending orgasm to crash through your whole body. You collapsed down into Eddie’s body as yours quivered in excitement over his. The way your pussy clamped down on Eddie’s cock had him cuming right along with you. Eddie’s head tingled as his hot load shot up into you. He couldn’t help but jerk his hips up on instinct to make sure you took all of him. 

With a sigh of relief, Eddie hugged you closer to his body, not letting you pull off his softening cock just yet. 

You let your weight fall on Eddie as you come down from your orgasm. Eddies tattooed arms wrapped around you and pulled you in your head to his chest. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest, and your heart fell in sync with his soothing beat. 

“You okay, Princess?”

“Mmmhhhmmmmmm,” you hum as you nuzzle your head deeper into the crook of his neck. 

You could cry at how happy you were at this moment. Finally, you have everything you want wrapped in your arms. 

“Good.” he kisses the top of your head, and you both fight the urge not to fall asleep like this. 

After Eddie begrudgingly got up because he insisted you both had to clean up you both fell asleep and didn’t wake up until late in the evening. 

~

Eddie ordered you both pizza, and you fell right back into your old ways. You can’t seem to wipe the permanent smile from your face. 

Simple ‘I love you’s’ slip past each of your lips. It was disgusting to anyone who would be looking from the outside in, but you and Eddie were in your own bubble that nobody could break until you both jumped when there was a pounding on the front door.

Eddie shit up from your arms and ran to see who it is. 

“What the?” He jerks the door open, and Ash makes her way inside. 

“Dude, your parents are freaking out.” 

“What?” You sit up. 

“They called me, yelling about how you’ve lost your mind, that the Munson boy has you brainwashed and stormed out of the house.”

If you could roll your eyes any more, they would fall out of your skull. 

“I know.” She agreed. 

Eddie stood behind her nervously, biting his nails. Would you rethink everything? He couldn’t come between you and your parents. 

“They will come around; they just need to meet him; they’ll see how good he is,” you plead. 

“I don’t know, Princess.” The thought of him meeting your parents terrified him. 

You get up off the couch and walk to Eddie. You cup his face to look him in the eye, and he melts in your touch. 

“We will figure this out”

“You guys are gross.” Ash can’t help but smile. She’s so happy for both of you. 

“Thanks, babe,” you smile at her. 

“Okay, well, I know you’re okay. I’ll let your parentals know that you’re safe, and you’ll come home when they’re ready to talk to you and have calmed down.

“Thank you.”

After Ash left, you tried to get Eddie to calm down and relax. Eventually, he could do it when you slipped off the couch and sank between his legs. 

The second your tongue touched his sensitive head, he was sufficiently relaxed. And once your mouth was dripping with his cum he thinks he couldn’t be more in love with you. The thought of meeting your parents wasn’t as scary. He will do everything and anything to keep you. 

“I’ll do it.” 

“What?” You wipe the corner of your mouth. 

“I’ll meet your partners.”

“Are you sure?” 

“If I get head like that? I’ll do anything you ask of me”

You giggle softly, and he takes you in his arms. You agree that tomorrow when you go home tomorrow. 

~

With bated breath, Eddie and you walk into your childhood home, hand in hand. 

“Hello?” 

“Sweetheart! We were so worried.” Your mom rushed down the foyer hallway. 

“Mom, I’m fine.” 

Your mother spots the large and abrasive bruise on your neck. She stiffens up immediately when she also sees Eddie standing beside you. 

“I see.” 

“Mom, please.” 

“Okay. Let’s talk.”

“Where is Dad?” 

“I’m his chair.” She rolls her eyes. 

The three of you walk to the living room, where your dad is reading the paper, unbothered. 

“Dad,” you greet him.

“Nice of you to return your little tantrum faster.

“My tantrum?” You couldn’t believe how childish he had acted yesterday.

You feel Eddie’s hand tightening in yours, and you squeeze it back.

“Can we please talk?”

He tips the corner of his pepper to finally look up and realizes Eddie is in his house. 

“What is he doing here?” 

“If you won’t treat my boyfriend respectfully, we are leaving.” 

“Sweetheart, wait, we can talk about this.”  Your mom was trying to keep the peace. 

“Good.” You lead Eddie to sit on the couch, but he doesn’t follow. 

He walks over to your dad and reaches out his hand. 

“Sir, I’m Eddie.” You watch as Eddie’s hand is held out firm. 

Your dad stared back at him for a moment until you warned him.

Surprisingly, your dad took his hand and shook it, and you sighed a breath of relief.

“Hello, Edward.” You tried not to roll your eyes, but your eyes betrayed you. 

“Y/N,” your mom warns. 

“Sorry.” 

Eddie also reaches out to your mother. He hands her the bouquet of flowers he had for her.

“Thank you, Eddie.” She smiles and sets them on the coffee table as they both sit. Your parents are on one side, you and Eddie are on the other. 

“So,” your dad speaks. 

With a deep breath, you start to speak. 

“Over the summer, Eddie and I got really close, and we are together as a couple.” 

“And now what? You’re going to live happily ever after?” 

“Sir, with all due respect, your daughter can make her own choices. She has been the golden child her whole life. She respects and loves you both so much that he actually broke up with me in fear of what you both would say or do…

“ I don’t know if you noticed, but she is the best person everyone who has had the pleasure of knowing her has ever met. You and your wife have raised a wonderful person, and I am so lucky and grateful she chose me.”

“I’m doing everything in my power to make sure I live up to her standards. She is the most important person in my life, and I will treat her as she deserves. If that isn’t enough for you both, so be it, but she doesn’t need me to support her. She knows how to handle herself, and that’s all due to you guys.” 

You held back tears as you listened to Eddie speak so highly of you. It was so nice to be validated. 

“Is that right?” Your dad spoke. 

“Yes, Sir.” Eddie nods and takes your hand in his.

“That’s very honourable of you, Edward.” 

Were pigs flying? Did your dad just say something nice?

“Thank you, Sir.” 

“Those are very kind things of you to say, Eddie. I’m sorry we jumped to conclusions about your intentions. 

“I understand I have a reputation; I wasn’t dealt the best hand, but I love your daughter, and she loves me. I haven’t done anything to disrespect her, and I never plan to.” 

Your parents stay silent and give one another a look. You held your breath until one of them spoke. 

“We are going to have some rules for when you come over-“ you dad starts but your mom cuts him off.

“Eddie, would you like to stay for dinner?” Your mom offered.

“Yes, I would love to, ma’am.” Eddie smiled, and so did you. 

You mouthed the words ‘thank you’ to your mom, and she gave you an assuring smile. 

“What?” 

“They are adults. Clearly, they have been safe over the summer; I'm sure they will keep it that way.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Eddie cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. 

Your eyes went wide, and cheeks flared up with embarrassment.

Your dad sat back with a grumble and flicked his newspaper, flustered as ever. 

“I’ll go start dinner. You kids can go; I’ll let you know when Im finished. 

“We did it!” You jumped into Eddie’s arms, and he spun you around once you entered your bedroom. 

You celebrated with a kiss, and you slipped down his body, and your feet made contact with the floor. 

“Can’t wait to show off my girl.” He cupped your face in both hands, “need to let all of Hawkins you’re mine.” 

“I’m all yours, Eddie Munson.” 

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” 

~End~ 

tags: @winchester-angel @josephquinnsfreckles @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @emma-munson @littlexdeaths

@siriuslysmoking @peachysink @nailbatanddungeon @leelei1980 @daisy-munson

@taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @strangerstilinski @bl0ssomanddie

@seb-buckybarnes @chickenandsheep-blog @lokis-army-77 @ali-r3n @erinekc @usergeta @snowflowersstars246

@micheledawn1975 @princesatracionera @bells-28 @kellsck @ezzynf

@oneforthemunny @brxkenartt @ktiutsa @sofiaadela @guineveresghost @nabiiturner @eddiesguitarskills @comeonatmebruh @sky-full-0f-fl0wers

[wordsarelife]

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: theo and you get your happy ever after

warnings: i don’t think there are any! let me know if that’s not true :)

note: here it is!! finally the epilogue is here! i loved writing this series so much!! please let me know what you thought of this chapter and/or the story in general!

!!!make sure to keep your eyes on the extras that are coming tomorrow (and feel free to request drabbles/ fics on future or past situtations in the don’t blame me universe, or questions you still have!! i will be thrilled to answer them!!)!!!

word count: 3.9k

note: not really happy with the outcome of this chapter, but whatever..

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"mommy?“ a voice called and your head snapped to the side. "can you give me one of those paper towels?“

you rolled your eyes smiling at his antics and nodded, before you threw one in his direction.

"mate, you know i love you, but please stop acting out your mommy kink on my girlfriend“ theo hit mattheo's shoulder.

"well, y/n is the closest thing i have to a mother right now" mattheo argued dramatically "she takes care of me when i'm sick, she cuts apple slices for me—"

"—we've been on tour for two months" theo shook his head "it's not like you're never gonna see your mum again, get a grip"

"it's alright" you smiled. "i don't mind"

mattheo nodded "see?"

“yeah, whatever” theo shook his head “just get ready, please? we start in ten”

after the concert a few months ago, cursed legacy had gotten their record deal. dave had been impressed by their show, he wanted them to play opener for the rest of the following tour leg.

as soon as the school holidays began you joined them, traveling around the country.

theo and you couldn’t be happier. everything was going great and you were ready to tackle life together.

since the concert, theo had not stopped writing songs and they were only a month away from releasing their second album, soft death.

he was always talking about how you were the muse behind most of the songs. and you had to admit that they had never had so many love songs played (or written) before.

during the tour they had made many new fans, their followers growing while were getting more and more attention. they were already playing a few songs from the new album constantly and about you was a fan favorite. your favorite was echoes of devotion, which theo had written for you. it was the second song they played every night.

“see you later” mattheo took a look to his phone, checking the time, before he pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek and quickly walked away.

theo rolled his eyes before he turned to you and gave you a long and passionate kiss, before he too took off after mattheo to get on stage.

you collected your things, before you started walking. you already knew that it would be hard to feel normal again once you were home in a month and college would start. how could you ever live a normal life after being treated like royalty?

you took your stage pass and walked in the direction of the tents. you hadn’t seen the rest of the band in hours. the reasons were simple enough. draco and blaise had made it their personal chore to walk around the venues before every show, claiming something about a good luck charm they absolutely needed. they had asked you to accompany them on a few occasions, which you did but quickly regretted after they spent the entire time talking about their hook ups from the night before.

they had already adopted the rockstar life style.

quite the opposite of that was enzo. he spent hours in the back of the bus, or in his hotel room, talking to april on his phone. she had come to a few shows, but she couldn’t be there constantly because of work and so they had decided to face time or text in any given moment. you rarely saw the boy without his phone.

april had been scared that their relationship would not last. she had feared that enzo would quickly realize how limiting a relationship was when there were a few hundred girls basically licking the ground on which he walked.

you had told her that enzo wasn’t like that, but you could still understand why she was feeling that way and promised to keep your eye on him.

enzo had done nothing more than proof the both of you terribly wrong. most of the time he did not even look into the direction of other girls, let alone talk to them.

that the rest of the band was busy could’ve been to your and theo’s advantage, making it possible to enjoy time for only the two of you, if there hadn’t been matt, who made it his personal task to follow you around like a lost puppy.

you loved him, you really did. during the time the both of you had only grown closer, going back to the sibling like relationship you had once had, but at times you wished he was anywhere else.

especially that one time when theo and you were making out on the couch of the tour bus and mattheo came barging in and acted like he didn’t know that he had just interrupted something, before he planted himself in the middle of theo and you and started playing star wars on the tv.

"good evening!" enzo's voice roared through the microphone, after they had come out and played only angel. the crowd cheered. "the next song we're gonna play is about a very special someone. our front man's girl to be exact. he's a very smitten man, so naturally, this is a very emotional love song, feel free to hold up your flashlights.. here is echoes of devotion!"

the crowd cheered once again, while you clapped your hands, your cheeks as red as the curtain next to the stage. theo's voice was always what started the song, he looked just as cheesy as you did, even if enzo had made it a habit to say the same lines every night, you and theo were still flustered about his words.

my love, like orpheus, i'd come,

to tread through shadows, my body numb,

but truth be told, in my hearts embrace,

i fear i'd falter, lose the race.

the music only set in after that. a steady and slow beat that was always responsible for your shiver as it guarded his voice through the chorus.

for i'd turn back, just like him,

my gaze would brake, our future grim,

your fading form, in shadows deep,

my love, too strong, my soul to keep.

the song was balancing right between breaking the crowds heart and animating them to sing along. it was the perfect mix of love and heartache, often making your eyes swell with tears, when you saw theo react the same way.

the song had a special place in both of your hearts. for one part, it was comparing you and theo to your favorite myth, which theo had done knowingly. and second, it reminded you both of how hard love could be, how even loving people deeply could led to hurting them.

it was one of the first songs theo did not sing entirely on his own. the second verse was accompanied by background vocals of the rest of the boys, making it sound almost dreamy and ethereal.

like orpheus, with his lyre's song,

i'd sing to you, all night long,

but in that moment, with fate's cruel twist,

i'd choose your eyes, and lose what's missed.

the second chorus was a little different to the first one, deeper, as theo had said.

for i'd turn back just like him,

the current stronger than we swim,

i'd face the darkness, lose my way,

for one more look, i'd gladly pay

"i don't understand" theo's voice was only above a whisper, making sure no one could hear you both in the treehouse. it was far too late for both of you anyway.

"what?" you had asked, looking up from the ipod in your hand.

"orpheus, that's his name, right?" the boy brushed his hair back, revealing his forehead. he hadn't gotten a haircut in ages, exclaiming something about girls finding him more attractive that way. you had spontaneously laughed at that prediction, considering you were the only girl he talked to. but the boy was fourteen and suddenly very interested in appealing to the opposite gender.

"what about him don't you understand?" you had the same tone in your voice your mother did when she would explain something to you and your brother.

"well, why does he turn around?" theo shrugged his shoulders, as he turned, facing away from you, to continue to paint doodles on the wall of the tree house. "he could've saved her if he had been stronger, if he had loved her enough he could've made it"

"it's not about that, theo" you had mused "orpheus looked back because he loved her so much, because the only way he could've saved her was if he had loved her less. but he didn't"

"i don't know, pixie" you send him a look upon the name, which he obviously couldn't see, your annoyance bouncing off of the back of his head. "i would be able to save you" his simple statement made the air freeze between the two of you, hitting deeper than it had been meant.

"then you don't love me enough" your voice was only a faint sound, but loud enough to make theo stop in his tracks.

without him noticing the irony of the situation, he turned around to look at you, his blue eyes crashing into yours. the softness in them almost made you shudder, asking yourself if the way you were feeling about him was totally normal. you did not have much experience with boys, but theo was different anyway, he was not like them, he was yours, without any requirements.

"no, i think i do" he whispered back, realizing that the quick act of him turning around had come right after you had simply doubted his love. he knew in that moment that it would never take much for him to turn around for you.

maybe it was the quiet of the night, or teenage hormones mixing up in the air, you weren't really sure later, but theo leaned across the space between you, gently grasping your lips with his, connecting them in a featherlight kiss.

there was no sound in the little room. there were only theo and you. and only your lips were touching.

for you're the melody that guides my soul,

through tempests wild and rivers cold,

i'll brave the depths, defy the night,

to hold your hand in morning light.

so here i stand, before your eyes,

with trembling heart, and no disguise,

to say, my love, in honesty,

i'd turn for your like orpheus for eurydice.

later that night, after the concert was finished and the band was saying their goodbyes, ready to leave the stage, you were waiting for theo behind the stage.

blaise and draco came down first, each of them ruffled your hair, before they walked away to find snacks.

enzo winked at you, holding his hand up for a high-five, which you gladly accepted.

matt plastered both of your cheeks with kisses, laughing deeply as you tried to slap him away.

all of the boys (except for theo of course) had grown to be like your brothers, but enzo and matt stood out the most. enzo was like the little brother you never had, especially because of his relationship with april.

mattheo had been protective of you ever since leo had brought you with him the first time at the age of five. he had looked out for you ever since, often joining forces with leo, when he forbid you from doing something.

even if you sometimes acted annoyed at him, you knew deep down that you needed matt, just as much as you needed your organs to survive. he had been (unlike theo at certain times) a constant in your life, you had never quite managed to get rid of. matt had made it clear to you that he wouldn't leave you alone. both of you were everything that was left of leo for the other.

you could see it in the way matt acted, when he would text you the most random things or when he was lifting you off the ground after he had predicted you would miss the single stair in front of your feet.

and he could see it in your face, as you scrunched your nose when you found something disgusting or when your eyes lit up at the mention of ice cream. or sometimes, in the rare moments when his heart ached the most, when you would laugh, and immediately stop, as you both realized how much it sounded like your brother.

it was impossible for either of you to forget leo, if you had still so much left of him.

the cologne was the first thing that entered your nose and just a second after, theo rumbled down the stairs, heavy footsteps echoing over the instruments that were already being played on stage.

he was wearing a white shirt, he had gotten it himself, your name written over his heart with a cursive lilac thread. his hair was messy and a little bit sweaty. you remembered the heat of the stage lights from the night of the concert months ago and your skin burned.

his jeans were dark and loose, you had joked that he needed to wear skinny jeans, because he was in a boyband. you had to search for a picture of harry styles, for him to believe that that used to be a thing.

his face lit up when his eyes fell on you. he pecked your lips, as he threw an arm across your shoulder. another kiss to your hair following.

"my dad messaged me" you said as you walked further behind the stage.

theo perked up at that "will he meet us for dinner?"

"yeah, yeah" you rolled your eyes, uninterested in talking about the boring information. you grinned, as you halted in your step, taking his hand in yours, as you almost jumped up and down from excitement. "we will probaly see a whole lot of him in the future"

theo raised his brows, confused what you were hinting at. your smile grew bigger as you could see the realization set in on his face.

"cadence?" he asked, not quite believing it.

you quickly nodded your head, your excitement resulting in a giggle, as he threw his arms around your body, pulling you close to his chest.

theo had applied to the college months ago. your father had just texted you to tell you that he was in. the mail was only being sent out the coming week and he wanted theo to know. that's also why your father had a lot of connections in the music world and was friends with dave fraser, the guy that had given the guys the record deal. he had worked at the college for the past twenty years, it was a big one, similiar to juilliard, but stationed in england.

while theo would go there, you had applied to many schools close to his (which included, but was not limited to oxford and camebridge). the acceptance letter for camebridge had come last week and the joy on theo's face had been incomparable.

"so it's happening" theo muttered in your ear "we'll both stay"

"i'm going nowhere" you assured, as you intertwined your hands, leading theo back to the tour bus, that would start driving to it's next destination in only a few hours.

"me neither, for now we have seen enough of the world to last us for a few years to come"

"are you joining in?" matt asked when the two of you entered the bus. the rest of the boys were sitting around the table, matt sorting poker chips and enzo's phone was propped up in the middle of the table, april's laughing face on it's screen.

"hey guys!" april smiled.

"hey stranger" you giggled.

"mate, could you please grab the cookies y/n's mum send her?"

"hey, those are for me" you protested.

matt shrugged "well the bus was only for us and i'm still sharing it with you"

you sighed, before you gave theo the okay to get them.

"only two more weeks and you're coming home" april was close to screaming of excitement "it's so boring without you guys. i even began missing blaise"

"hey!" blaise protested, as he grabbed the phone and turned it in his direction, so april was able to see the offended expression on his face.

"yeah, sorry" april muttered "now turn me back"

actually, even if you enjoyed all the special treatment you were receiving on this tour, you couldn't wait to go back home. you couldn't wait for life to be a bit more normal again, even though you were sure that it wouldn't take long before the boys would have their own concerts.

you couldn't wait to watch them grow, but for now, you savored every moment, as long as they still belonged solemnly to you.

"who's gonna start?" mattheo threw the last of the chips down, looking between the rest of you for help.

"i thought you read the rules" draco exclaimed confused.

"well, no" mattheo shook his head "blaise was supposed to"

blaise shook his head repeatedly, claiming to not have been part of mattheo's scheme. the boys began fighting, pointing at each other accusingly.

theo and you exchanged a glance, before you suggested to play a few simple rounds of uno, which everyone agreed on and quickly quieted down.

now everything was finally right and if you could talk to her, you would like to tell your younger self that everything would be alright one day and that she didn't have to be as scared of the future.

a few weeks later, when you were back home, theo helped you pack your things up in your room.

the rest of the tour had gone by in a breeze, and even if all of them decided to concentrate on studying at their respective schools, the band still existed and even dave fraser promised that the career of cursed legacy was far from over. soft death had already been recorded and was coming out in two weeks.

"what's that?" theo asked as he fished a folded piece of paper out of your backpack.

"oh" you furrowed you brows. "i thought i had thrown that away" you shrugged.

"well, what's on it?"

"after i first listened to pixie dream girl, april made me write down my feelings and burn the papers. she was scared that i would do something i would regret" you send him a look.

"okay..but why do you have it if it got burned?" he pressed.

"because i wanted something to remind myself how i felt about all of this"

"am i allowed to read it?" theo asked expectingly "it probably won't be nice"

"i don't care" you shrugged "go on"

theo unfolded the paper, his breath hitching as he read the words you had written. he looked up in surprise and you smiled. "that's—" he mumbled, but couldn't find the right words, surprise and love making it hard to concentrate.

"not mean?" you helped.

theo grinned, before he folded the paper up again and put it in his pocket "i want to keep it"

you smiled and nodded.

and after all this, you stupid stupid boy, you had written that day, you are still the only one my heart wants to know.

you and theo kept your eyes on each other, not one of you daring to look away. you could see every version in him, every stage of his life was readable from his eyes. even that night was readable and you wondered if the was thinking about the same thing you were.

"what was that?" you had asked, your voice raised above the normal whisper.

"what?" theo muttered, feigning innocence. you would've almost believed you had imagined the kiss, but the lipgloss on theo's mouth was telling a different story.

"you kissed me"

"ugh, no?" theo shook his head, crossing his arms defensively.

"ugh, yes?" you outstretched your hand, pointing to his lips. "there, cherry lipgloss"

theo rubbed his mouth in a quick gesture, getting rid of the evidence "where?" he asked, fluttering his eyes.

"right there!" you insisted, fighting back a laugh at his attempt to play it cool.

theo smiled softly, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of fondness and mischief. "okay, fine. maybe i did."

your heart raced as you struggled to find the right words. "why?"

his expression softened, and he reached out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "because... i wanted to."

"okay" you nodded, your voice only above a whisper. "but friends don't—“

"i know" theo had interrupted you. "i'm sorry"

something had shifted between you that night in the tree house, or at least for theo it had. it was like you were the only girl that mattered, like you were the only one that mattered. something about that scared him immensely.

you waited for him to say something. to explain to you what it meant for you, for your friendship. but his eyes were as big as yours and his mind wandered twice as fast. "we are friends" he muttered finally, as if to remind himself.

you nodded, taking it as answer enough.

the years turned faster than the pages of a book, you grew older, stayed inside your rooms when it got dark outside and you and theo never spoke of the night in the treehouse again.

neither of you had known what to say so you rather said nothing.

theo's last words to you that night, replayed themselves over and over again in your mind for the years to follow, even if both of you continued being friends normally.

"i couldn't help it" he had muttered, right after both of you had climbed down the ladder and were ready to go your separate ways.

you smiled at his honesty, as you held back a giggle. you couldn't see his face in the dark, the candle in the lantern you had brought with you had burned down completely, but you had a feeling that he felt the same mix of awkwardness and simple happiness you did.

"will you do that again?" you asked, feeling brave now that he was unable to see your face in the darkness.

air escaped from his nostrils, as he stifled a laugh at your question. "i'm not sure" he said.

"okay"

the air between you was quiet and still and you turned around before you softly walked the path between both of your houses in the direction of the balcony you had climbed down a few hours ago.

the sound of his voice had you stop in your tracks.

"but if it some day comes over me, and maybe it will.." he paused, seemingly searching for the right words.

you listened to him attentively, as your heart fluttered at his implication. it was like you could almost see the colour of his eyes, even if he was standing a few meters across from you, his body standing out against the light of the lantern down the street.

he was standing, his body facing in your direction and simply knowing that he was looking at you made your tummy churn. was this what friendship was supposed to be? or was it something different? was this love? did love really feel like that or where you going crazy?

theo cleared his throat, as he raised his voice so you could hear him clearly over the distance between you "just... don't blame me"

taglist: @7s3ven @madi-potter @shereadsandcries @getosbeloved @mischieftom @wolfstar-jpg @t00thfairy20 @chcrrysblog @aestramjackson @elina3011 @kr1nqu @hopeless-y @mitskiswift99 @fallingblackveils @ahead-fullofdreams @helendeath @schaebickel @chubbychasermattheotruther @punkprincess03 @subparslytherin @girlbooklover555 @sakanelli-afc @cobrakaisb @ellen3101 @simp-for-fantasy @the-sylver-dragon @ess-perspective @starsval

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Sixteen: Wishful Thinking

Chapter WC: 10,811

Chapter Tags/Warnings: minor blood/wound care, major grief/mourning themes

A/N: A lot going on in this one, but I couldn’t stand to break it into two chapters. This is one of the heaviest chapters so far, but also one of the sweetest. Hopefully that makes up for it somewhat!

And just getting it out now that I don’t plan on talking about Satine much in this fic, so please don’t set your hopes too high lol.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Join the Taglist | Masterlist

Coruscant, 21 BBY

You’ve never met Duchess Satine Kryze, but she must be a beautiful and formidable woman to have such a hold on Obi-Wan after all these years.

He's always spoken of her with the utmost respect and detachment, but you can sense the truth that lies beneath. It doesn’t surprise you that he's the one who has been sent to Mandalore in the wake of the attack on a Republic cruiser by a Mandalorian saboteur, leaving you in command of the 212th.

It does, however, annoy you.

Though, not in the way you expect. In your youth, you were jealous of her, the thought of Obi-Wan being with another woman had caused an ugly, green-eyed monster to rear its head within you. As time has passed, and especially since your conversation in the gardens, that feeling has faded. Replaced by something else entirely.

Concern.

You've had a bad feeling about the situation on Mandalore ever since Obi-Wan told you about his assignment, and it's one that's been difficult to let go of. Obi-Wan is a good man, an excellent General, a brilliant tactician and negotiator. But as his history with the Duchess, and yourself, has proven, his ability to remain objective when it comes to the safety and welfare of those close to him is sorely lacking.

Your worry is compounded by the fact that the 212th is being called into action. A force of Separatist droids has sprouted up like weeds on Null, a short jump from Mandalore, and the Third Army is being sent to deal with them. As a Jedi, you can't ignore the call to arms, but as a friend, you're hesitant to leave Obi-Wan without the support of the 212th. You can only hope that he will have the clarity of mind to focus on the bigger picture, rather than the smaller, more personal details.

Not that you were unfamiliar with such distractions.

Null is a lush planet, filled with dense tropical forests and dramatic mountain ranges. It's also the home of one of Dooku's many retreats, an extravagant manor built into the side of a mountain, with a sprawling view of the valley and city below. A city that's now crawling with battle droids. An orbital bombardment is out of the question, and the Separatist defenses are proving difficult to penetrate.

So, instead of a quick, clean victory, it's going to be a messy, bloody slog.

You sigh and look down at the tactical display, your brow furrowed. You'd woken early this morning, arriving to the strategy room long before everyone else, and you've spent the past few hours pouring over the reports, trying to come up with a plan of attack. And a plan for how you can get inside the castle and deal with Dooku once and for all.

Yaddle's message is still fresh in your mind, her voice still ringing in your ears. Her words are still etched into your heart. You know what you have to do, and the temptation to do so is growing with each passing day. With each new casualty. With each loss.

But there's still the war to contend with, as well as the possibility of failure. If you attempt to go after Dooku and fail, if he gets the upper hand and kills you, the galaxy will lose a Jedi Master. And if you manage to kill him and survive, you will lose the moral high ground. The Order could brand you a murderer, and that would spell the end for your career, your life, and your friendships. There would be no going back.

No, it's not worth the risk.

At least, not yet.

You're so lost in thought that you don't hear the door slide open behind you, nor do you hear the footsteps approaching. It isn't until Rex clears his throat that you realize he's standing behind you.

You don’t startle, and it should surprise you, but it doesn’t. You're too used to Rex's presence by now, the warmth of his energy in the Force as familiar as the sun rising over Coruscant each morning, and the normal tension that comes with someone stepping into your space is absent. Instead, a sense of calm washes over you. 

Your shoulders relax, your heartbeat slows, and a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You don't turn around, not yet. You continue staring at the hologram of the valley, letting the feeling settle in.

It's strange. You'd expected this closeness between the two of you to fade once you'd returned to Coruscant. But it hasn't. If anything, it's grown stronger, and it's no longer something that only occurs in the safety of an empty meadow or a darkened hallway, away from the prying eyes of the Jedi Council and the GAR. Now, it's everywhere. In every moment. No matter what the two of you are doing.

You've tried not to read too much into it, tried not to dwell on the implications. But deep down, you know the truth. Rex isn't just a distraction. He's something else, something more.

But you're not ready to admit that. Not yet.

But that doesn't mean that you're not happy to see him.

"Good morning, Rex," you greet him, a hint of amusement in your tone, and you move your fingers across the display, changing the angle of the hologram. "Come to save me from myself?"

"How did you know it was me?" he asks. His voice is low, his tone teasing. He's close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

"Don't tell me you were trying to sneak up on me," you tease, glancing over your shoulder and giving him a wry smile.

He huffs a laugh and shakes his head. "I haven't forgotten what happened the last time I tried."

You smirk, remembering the incident on Felucia. It feels like a lifetime ago that you were holding him at the end of your blade, your eyes locked on his. There's a glimmer of amusement in his eyes now, but the memory still stings. You can still see mark on his pauldron under the layers of blue paint, a reminder of your recklessness, your paranoia.

"Neither have I," you mutter, and then you turn back to the hologram, tilting your head and studying the display. "What brings you here so early?"

"I could ask you the same thing. I’m always the first one here," Rex says. He steps around to the side of the holotable, leaning against the edge. His head tilts as he regards you, his hands behind his back, and his eyes roam over your face, taking in every detail. "You look like you haven't slept."

"I've had a lot on my mind," you admit with a sigh.

A slight frown pulls at the corner of his mouth, his gaze flickering to the table between the two of you, before returning to yours.

"Anything I can help with?" he offers. "Or, are you just trying to show the rest of us up by coming up with the perfect plan before anyone else arrives?"

You chuckle and shake your head, the corner of your mouth turning upwards. "Nothing so dramatic, I'm afraid."

"I see," he replies, and a hint of disappointment flashes across his face, before vanishing. He nods at the holotable, and then, hesitates. "Do you...do you want to talk about it? Maybe it'll help. Clear your head."

You pause, considering his offer, and then, decide against it. You can't bring yourself to tell him about Yaddle, about what she said, not yet. Not when the wound is still so raw, so fresh. And while Rex is an exceptional listener, and you know he would offer his full support, you're not ready. Not for the conversation that will inevitably follow. 

So, instead, you give him a grateful smile and shake your head. "Thanks, but I'm okay."

"Alright," he concedes, though he looks unconvinced. 

You're grateful for it. You appreciate his understanding, his willingness to respect your boundaries. It's a relief, really. There's no awkwardness or discomfort. It's natural. Easy. And that's something you've rarely found outside the Jedi Order. Or inside it.

"Well, hopefully this helps, then." 

Rex moves his hand from behind his back and reveals a paper cup with a lid. Steam wafts from the opening, and you immediately recognize the scent of fresh caf. You perk up, your eyes widening.

"Is that...?"

"Freshly brewed?" he finishes as he sets it on the holotable in front of you. "Yep."

“For me?” you ask, even as you reach for it, wrapping your hands around the cup and reveling in the heat. You lift the cup to your nose and inhale deeply, the smell sending a shiver down your spine. “Really?”

Rex chuckles and shrugs, lifting up his own cup to his mouth. “Oh, well I was going to give it to Cody, but…”

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen, and he smirks before taking a sip, the teasing glint in his eyes telling you he's enjoying your reaction. You roll your eyes, and a soft laugh escapes your lips, your cheeks warming.

“But you like me more?” you challenge, and Rex snorts, nearly spilling his caf. He covers his mouth and swallows hard, shaking his head at you as you raise an eyebrow at him. "That's what you're going to say, right?"

"Yeah," he rasps, clearing his throat. He sets his cup on the table and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Sure. That."

"Good," you say, smiling sweetly at him. You raise your cup to him in a salute. "Because I like you more than Cody, too."

“I heard that.” 

You both straighten and turn as Cody strides into the room, a datapad in his hand, and the two of you exchange a sheepish look. You feel a flutter of nervousness in your stomach, and Rex lets out a breath, his shoulders slumping.

Cody raises his eyebrow as he walks around the holotable, glancing between the two of you. He looks like he's about to say something, but then shakes his head, his expression softening, and he turns to the display.

"What are we looking at?" he asks.

"A nest," Rex replies, his voice gruff, and he crosses his arms over his chest, any trace of amusement gone.

You're surprised at his sudden change in demeanor, and a part of you wants to laugh at the absurdity of it, but the other part, the one that's still slightly worried about being caught fraternizing, even if it's Cody, stops you. Instead, you nudge Rex with your elbow, giving him one last smile before you go over to stand beside the commander.

As you move, you take the first sip of your caf. You brace yourself for the bitter taste, but it doesn’t come. In fact, it tastes almost exactly like how you prefer to prepare it for yourself. You can’t help the noise of surprise that escapes you, and you eagerly take another sip.

Rex watches you from the corner of his eye, his mouth quirking into a half-smile, before turning back to the display.

Cody doesn't miss the exchange. His eyebrows raise, a curious look on his face, but he doesn't comment. Instead, he points to the map on the holotable.

"So, a nest, huh?" he asks. "And what kind of bird are we hunting?"

"A Krayt dragon," Rex says, and you snort, earning a glare from the captain. He huffs and continues, "A squadron of vulture droids, most likely from Count Dooku's estate, launched an attack on the nearby city and decimated the local forces. They're holed up in the surrounding mountains, and they're not giving up easily."

"Dooku's estate, you said," Cody repeats, and a thoughtful look crosses his face. "We'll have to deal with that later."

"Yes, we will," you mutter. He hums in return, and the three of you stand in silence, studying the display. The battle droids are well fortified, their numbers impressive, and you have a feeling that it's going to be a difficult fight.

You take another sip of your caf, savoring the rich flavor, and the caffeine courses through your veins, sending a jolt of energy through your body. It's enough to wake you up and sharpen your focus, and you can't help but smile. You look over at Rex and nod, mouthing a silent 'thank you'.

He ducks his head and turns away, but you can see the color rising in his cheeks, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He lifts his hand to his face, scratching the back of his head, and you have to stifle a laugh.

The doors slide open, and Anakin and the rest of the battalion's commanding officers file in, filling the room with a low murmur of voices. As they take their places around the holotable, Rex ends up next to you again. 

"You're welcome," he murmurs, his mouth barely moving. He doesn't look at you, keeping his eyes fixed on the map, but his arm brushes against yours, sending a shiver down your spine.

You hide your smile behind your cup, warmth blooming in your chest, and you take a moment to bask in the sensation before you shift, putting some distance between the two of you. The last thing you need is for someone else to notice the tension between the two of you, especially now that the room is full.

You're not ready to explain this...whatever it is, to anyone.

"Alright, everyone," Anakin calls, clapping his hands together. He steps forward and leans over the holotable, examining the map. "Let's get started."

The meeting passes quickly, and before long, the two of you are walking side by side through the corridors toward the hangar bay. The troops have already begun boarding the transport ships, and the hum of engines fills the air. Rex is at ease, his stride relaxed, his hands clasped behind his back. You, on the other hand, are anything but.

Your feet are dragging, a heaviness weighing on your shoulders that grows with every step. You're exhausted, and the thought of another battle, another confrontation, makes you want to curl up and sleep for days. The stress is beginning to wear on you, and the lack of a good night's sleep isn't helping. 

Still, there's a nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you that this is your chance. That this is the opportunity you've been waiting for. To finally confront Dooku.

"So," Rex begins slowly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "Is there any way I can convince you not to go on this mission?"

You huff a laugh, and you shake your head. "I wish."

"I had a feeling," he sighs, and his gaze returns to the corridor ahead. "You have that look on your face. Like you're ready to jump out of an airlock."

"Is it that obvious?"

"To me, yes," he tells you. He stops, turning to face you, and he rests his hand on your shoulder. He squeezes gently, and you find yourself leaning into it, savoring the contact. His thumb brushes against your collarbone as he leans forward, his gaze softening. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'll be fine," you assure him, and a half-smile tugs at your lips. "Don't worry about me."

"You say that," he chuckles, his tone rueful, and his grip on your shoulder tightens. His eyes search yours, and the humor fades. "But I do. And I know something's wrong."

"I..." You start, but stop, biting your lip. You take a deep breath and look away, your heart hammering in your chest. "I don't know what to tell you."

"You can tell me the truth," he says gently. He tilts his head, trying to catch your gaze. "What's going on? Are you...is it the nightmares?"

"It's not that," you sigh, and you rub the back of your neck, your eyes drifting towards the floor. 

You don't want to lie to him, not anymore, but you're not sure what to say. The truth is, it's more than just the nightmares. It's everything. The war, the Order, your past, your future. You've been struggling with it all, and it's getting harder and harder to keep it together. To maintain control. To hide your emotions. To ignore the growing desire for justice, vengeance, satisfaction. 

You let out a shaky breath and shake your head. "It's just...a lot."

"Yeah," he nods, his gaze dropping to the floor. He shifts his weight from foot to foot and then clears his throat. "Can I...is there anything I can do?"

"Not this time," you answer, a sad smile on your face. "But thank you."

"Alright," he sighs, resigned. Rex drops his hand and looks around, taking in the bustle of the hangar bay. His eyes linger on the transport ships, a distant look on his face. "You think we have a chance?"

"At taking out the vulture droids or taking out Dooku?" you ask, and his gaze returns to you. He offers you a wry grin.

"Either. Both."

You shrug. "I think we'll be fine. As long as we stick to the plan and work together, we should have no problem destroying the droids. As for Dooku..."

"Yeah, that's the hard part, isn't it?" he chuckles, and you nod, the corner of your mouth pulling into a small smile.

"It is," you agree. "But with a little luck, we might be able to capture him."

"Right," he says, rolling his eyes. "Luck."

"Well, we have to stay positive, don't we?" you tease, nudging his shoulder. He chuckles and shakes his head, and the two of you share a smile. It fades quickly, however, replaced by a somber expression.

He glances around, making sure no one's paying attention, before stepping closer. His gaze meets yours, and there's a seriousness in his eyes that wasn't there before. He opens his mouth, then closes it, hesitating, before trying again.

"What would you do if we did?" he asks quietly. "If we had him."

"I..." you start, but then trail off, considering the question. You don't have an answer. Not one you can speak aloud. There are so many conflicting emotions, so many feelings, swirling inside you, and it's hard to separate them. To pick out the right ones. The good ones. The ones that matter.

But underneath all of that, buried beneath the surface, is something else. A burning desire for revenge. For justice. And it's a desire that you're struggling to contain, to control. Every day, it grows stronger, demanding release, demanding action And every day, you deny it. Ignore it. Push it down. But it never goes away. Never disappears.

And it's becoming harder and harder to keep it in check.

Now, you're afraid that if you do catch Dooku, you won't be able to hold back. That you'll lash out and do something terrible, something unforgivable.

You've never admitted that to anyone, not even Obi-Wan. You know he's under the impression that you've released most of the darkest parts of yourself into the Force, but that's far from the truth. You can't help it. You're only human, after all. 

And like any other human, you're capable of horrible, terrible, things. You know that better than most.

 But Rex...he might understand. He's seen first-hand what Dooku is capable of, the pain he's caused. If anyone could understand, it would be him.

You look up at him, your eyes searching his, and he stares back, his expression solemn, his brow furrowed. He doesn't pressure you, doesn't push, just waits patiently, giving you time.

"I don't know," you finally answer, and the lie burns your tongue, the words coming out thick and heavy. You swallow hard and look away, unable to meet his gaze.

"You can tell me," he says softly. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah," you nod, forcing yourself to smile.

"Good," he murmurs. "That's good."

There's an awkward silence between the two of you, and you stare at the ground, unsure of what to say. You can sense his eyes on you, and the intensity makes your stomach twist. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and a chill runs down your spine. You cross your arms, rubbing your palms up and down your sleeves.

"Just..." 

You take a shaky breath and raise your head, meeting his gaze. His expression is gentle, kind, and it helps. It gives you the courage to continue.

"Just stay close to me, okay?" you whisper, your voice cracking slightly. You clear your throat and force a smile, and it hurts. Everything hurts. Your chest is tight, your throat dry. "Please."

Rex's frown deepens, and he opens his mouth to reply, but he's cut off by a voice echoing down the hallway.

"Rex! Where are you? We're ready to launch!"

He sighs and looks away, running a hand over his head. "I gotta go."

"I know," you tell him, swallowing past the lump your throat. You take a step forward and reach for him, resting your hand on his arm. "Be careful out there, okay? Don't do anything stupid."

He scoffs, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and he looks down at you. "Who, me?"

"Yes, you," you tease.

"I'm always careful," he retorts, and the two of you exchange a knowing look. You squeeze his arm and let go, stepping back, and his eyes linger on yours.

"Rex!" the voice calls again, more insistent.

"Go," you say. "Before Fives comes looking for you."

Rex smirks, and then gives you a nod. He turns and strides down the hall, and you watch him go, your heart aching, a strange feeling twisting in your gut.

You can't name it, can't put a word to it. It's not quite worry, not quite fear, not quite sadness. But it's all of those things, and more. A feeling of loss, maybe. Or regret. Or guilt.

Rex reaches the end of the corridor, and he turns, glancing back at you. You give him a small wave, forcing a smile, and his gaze lingers, his eyes searching yours. Then, he turns, and he's gone.

You stand there, rooted to the spot, staring after him.

Dread.

The feeling is dread.

Null, 21 BBY

An explosion rattles the ground beneath your feet, and you dive for cover, the deafening sound of blaster fire echoing around you. You roll behind a pile of rubble and lean against the stone, catching your breath. Across the dust-filled courtyard, Rex is hunkered down behind a broken statue, his blasters in his hands.

You lock eyes with him and he nods, holding up his hand, the signal to wait. You nod back and turn, peering around the edge of the stones, looking for an opening. The courtyard is crawling with battle droids, their laser fire tearing through the air, and it's impossible to tell where the droids end and the Republic troops begin.

A clone runs past, his armor streaked with blood, and a battle droid lunges out of the smoke, grabbing him. You reach out, calling upon the Force, and the droid flies through the air, slamming into a wall. The clone stares at you, and then nods, rushing back into the fray.

Another explosion rocks the courtyard, and the ground trembles, chunks of stone and dirt falling from the sky. You grit your teeth and push off the ground, leaping to the top of the rubble, your lightsabers igniting. A storm of bolts comes flying at you, and you deflect them, sending them back at the droids.

"General!"

You glance over your shoulder, and a squad of clones come running towards you, their weapons raised. They're led by Waxer, and they're covered in dust and dirt, but otherwise unharmed.

"Waxer, nice of you to finally join us," you shout, and the clones laugh, ducking behind the debris.

"Well, we couldn't leave our General hanging, now could we?" he retorts. He peers around the stones, scanning the courtyard, and then looks back at you. "Commander said you were having a rough time, thought we could give you a hand."

"How kind of him," you deadpan. You jump off the rocks, landing next to the clones, and you take a deep breath, letting the Force flow through you. Your skin tingles, and your muscles tense. The world around you slows to a standstill as your heart beats faster, pounding against your chest. You can see every detail, every movement, every particle.

"Any sign of Dooku?" Waxer asks.

You grit your teeth. The Force ripples around you, telling you what you already suspected from the moment you landed on Null. Dooku is gone, if he ever was here. Another lie. Another dead end. Another wasted opportunity.

"He's not here."

"You're sure?"

"Positive," you grunt, and everything comes rushing back. The sound, the smell, the taste of smoke and blood and sweat. It's overwhelming, but it's familiar, and your senses adjust quickly, settling back into their normal rhythm. "Looks like this is a vacation home, not a military base."

"Great," he sighs. He raises his blaster and fires, taking out a pair of battle droids before ducking back behind cover. "Well, at least the vultures are taken care of."

"That's one good thing, I guess." You crouch beside him, your brow furrowed, exhaustion tugging at your limbs. "Now, we just have to clean up this mess."

Rex darts across the courtyard, his blasters firing, and a stream of red light follows his movements. He slides to a stop beside you, and he leans against the rubble, his chest heaving. His helmet tilts towards you, looking at you over his shoulder.

"Good to see you, General," he pants.

"You, too," you reply, giving him a tired smile.

"Did we miss anything?"

"Not really," Waxer tells him. "We were just about to start mopping up."

The three of you look over at the troopers now pouring into the courtyard in a sea of blue and orange, their numbers quickly overwhelming the droids. It's a chaotic scene, with blaster bolts flying through the air and smoke filling the space, but the tide has clearly turned in the Republic's favor.

"Come on, then," you say, and you rise, stretching. Your muscles ache, and your knees protest, but you ignore them. "Let's get this done."

You turn and lead the way, jumping into the fray.  Within minutes, the last of the battle droids fall, their smoking corpses littering the ground. You stand in the middle of the carnage, surveying the damage. There are scorch marks everywhere, bodies strewn across the stones, pieces of broken droids scattered about.

It's a mess, but it could have been worse.

Much worse.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, centering yourself. You deactivate your lightsabers and tuck them into your belt, a weary smile on your face. It's over. Finally. You'd been fighting for hours, and you're ready to rest.

"Good work, everyone," you call out, raising your voice so it can be heard above the din. "I think we're done here."

There's a loud cheer, and the troops start gathering their gear, cleaning up the battlefield. Rex approaches you, and the two of you stand together, watching the men work.

Rex lets out a loud sigh, and he takes his helmet off, wiping the sweat from his brow. His blond hair is matted with dirt, and his face is covered in grime. He glances over at you, and his eyes crinkle with a tired smile.

"Well, that was a fun morning," he chuckles, and the clones in the near vicinity laugh at the quip. Waxer gives him a good-natured slap on the back as he walks by, and you snort, shaking your head.

"Glad you enjoyed yourself," you retort, and his smile widens.

He turns and gestures to the castle looming in the distance. "Do we still want to take a look around?"

"We might as well," you say, shrugging. "It's not like we're going to get a chance like this again."

Rex nods and pulls out his commlink, tapping a button. A voice crackles to life, and he begins issuing orders, the clones splitting off into teams and heading towards the estate. He watches them go, and then he looks over at you, nodding.

"Ready when you are."

You take a deep breath and begin walking, Rex falling into step beside you. The estate is sprawling, a series of towers and spires rising up from the valley floor. It's surrounded by a high stone wall, and you can see turrets peeking out from the battlements. You've never seen a more dreary, impenetrable fortress.

The main doors are open, and a squad is standing guard, their weapons raised. As you draw nearer to the entrance, a sense of anticipation settles over you, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. 

Your hand drifts towards your lightsaber, and your fingers tighten around the hilt. You can sense something, but you can't put your finger on it. An energy, an electricity, a presence, but it's faint, just out of reach. Something inside you wants to run, either away or toward, and you can't tell which.

You hear a grunt beside you, and you glance at Rex. His face is pinched, and for the first time you notice him limping, his left leg dragging a bit behind his right. Concern flares inside you, and you stop, turning towards him.

"You're hurt," you accuse, and his eyes widen, his jaw clenching.

"I'm fine," he insists, but his voice is strained, and the pain is clear in his eyes. You shake your head and grab his arm, pulling him to a stop. Whatever is behind those doors can wait.

"Rex, what's wrong?" you ask, and he sighs, his shoulders slumping.

"Just a little bruised," he admits. 

You arch an eyebrow, gesturing to his leg. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," he insists. "I'll be fine."

"Uh huh," you murmur. You step closer and lean forward into his space, looking into his eyes. He avoids your gaze, his cheeks reddening, and you narrow your eyes, sensing the truth. "Rex."

"What?" he grumbles.

"You should see a medic."

"I will," he promises, and his eyes dart over to the others, before returning to yours. "Later."

"Liar," you grin, and his lips twitch. You roll your eyes.

The two of you watch as the troopers file into the estate, disappearing from sight. When they're gone, he lets out a breath and looks at you, the tension in his body easing. You're grateful for the quiet, the stillness, the opportunity to collect yourself.

But it's also a relief to have him all to yourself, without the constant pressure of the others, the expectations and attention. And you can tell he feels the same.

"I am a liar," he admits sheepishly. He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, a shy smile spreading across his face. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"Maybe," you tease, and his grin widens, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Sit down. I'll take a look at it."

"You don't have to," he starts, but you shake your head, cutting him off.

"No arguing. Sit."

Rex grumbles but does as you say, letting you lead him over to the half-shattered fountain in the center of the courtyard, the water long gone. He lowers himself to the ground, hissing in pain, and you kneel beside him. Together, you remove the armor from his leg, setting it aside. The fabric of his bodysuit is torn, and underneath is a nasty-looking gash, a mixture of dirt and dried blood caking his skin.

You bite your lip, worry bubbling inside you. You've seen worse, much worse, but there's something about seeing him hurt that makes your heart clench. You know you're being irrational, that the injury isn't serious, and that the medics will be able to treat him. Still, it hurts. To see him in pain. To feel his pain.

"It's not that bad," he mutters. He's looking down at you, his brow furrowed, and he gives you a reassuring smile. "Honest."

"Uh huh," you say, unconvinced, and he huffs a laugh. You reach out, tentatively, your hand hovering over his leg. "This might sting."

"I can handle it," he tells you. You raise an eyebrow, and he gives you a crooked grin. "Probably."

You roll your eyes and move your hand closer, your fingers gently brushing the swollen skin. Rex sucks in a breath through his teeth, and you wince as you're hit with a jolt of his pain, sharp and sudden.

You breathe deep, steadying yourself, and then you press your hand fully against the wound, letting the Force flow through you into him.

You're far from adept in the healing arts, one of many weaknesses in your skill set, and you're no healer, but you can do this much. It's not a particularly complex injury. The tissue needs to be repaired, the pain reduced, and if you syphon some of your own energy, it's not as difficult as it seems. At least, that's what you tell yourself.

Still, it's not easy. The injury is larger than you thought, and the pain is intense. Rex tenses underneath your touch, his leg twitching, and you can hear his teeth grinding. His jaw is clenched so tightly, you fear his teeth might crack. You blindly reach up with your opposite hand and rest it on his knee, trying to steady him.

"Easy," you murmur. His hand settles on top of yours, your fingers intwining. You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back, his thumb stroking your knuckles. "Almost done. Just breathe."

"Right," he says, his voice strained. He lets out a shaky breath and nods. "Keep going."

You let out a breath of your own, and you continue the work, draining your energy into him. After a few more moments, the wound is closed, the pain reduced, and you withdraw your hand, pulling back the fabric to examine the newly healed skin. It's a little pink and raw, but it'll do. He'll need proper medical attention, but for now, it'll keep him on his feet.

"There," you say, and Rex lets out a soft groan, the tension in his body fading. He looks down at the wound, and he turns his leg side to side, admiring your handiwork. "Good as new."

"Wow," he breathes. "That's...impressive."

"Yeah, I'm pretty great, aren't I?" you tease.

"Yeah," he nods. His hand is still holding yours, his fingers lightly tracing your knuckles. "You are."

The sincerity in his voice surprises you, and your cheeks warm, your heart skipping a beat. You swallow hard, and you give him a weak smile, trying not to read too much into his words.

"Thanks," you murmur. You let go of his hand and sit back, and he sighs, his eyes never leaving yours. You shift under his gaze, unsure of what to do, or say, and then, his expression changes, his head tilting.

"Why don't you do that more often?" he asks, and you frown, confused. He gestures to his leg. "Heal."

"Oh," you reply, just as a wave of exhaustion washes over you. You try to suppress a yawn and fail. "It's not something I like to advertise. I'd rather not burn myself out."

Rex raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to elaborate. You hesitate, biting your lip. It's not something you're proud of, and it's not something you talk about often, but for some reason, you feel compelled to share.

"I'm not particularly skilled in the healing arts," you admit. You look away, your brow furrowing. "Some can draw on the Living Force, use its power to heal others. I can't."

"But you did just now," he points out carefully.

"I did," you acknowledge, and a wry smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. You turn and meet his gaze. "But it took a lot out of me, and I don't mean that metaphorically. If I'm not careful, if I'm not prepared, it could kill me."

Rex's eyes widen, and a look of panic flashes across his face. His hands clench into fists, and he shakes his head, scowling.

"Don't ever do that," he orders, and you chuckle. "Seriously. Don't. Not for me."

"If I didn't, you would have been laid up in the infirmary for a week," you tell him, trying to sound casual, but your tone is anything but. Your words come out more harshly than intended, a bit more bitter. "Besides, I wanted to. You're worth it."

Rex stares at you, stunned, a flicker of something passing over his features. Surprise? Confusion? A hint of fear? You're not sure, but it makes your stomach twist, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of your gut. You swallow hard, resisting the urge to look away.

"You shouldn't have," he tells you, shaking his head. "You could have-"

"But I didn't," you interrupt, and he sighs, the corners of his mouth turning down. You stand and brush the dirt and debris from your robes, clearing your throat. "And if you ever tell anyone I did that, I'll deny it. Got it?"

Rex snorts, the scowl vanishing, and slowly rises to his feet, testing his weight on his injured leg. He stretches and rolls his shoulders, his neck cracking, and then he nods. "Got it."

"Good," you huff. 

You watch as he reattaches his armor, your arms crossed over your chest. He seems to have forgotten about the estate, about the mission, his mind on other things. His expression is thoughtful, his eyes distant, and you can't help but wonder what he's thinking. What he's feeling. Whether or not he's upset with you. With himself.

You know you've worried him, that he's afraid of what might have happened, but you don't regret it. Not one bit. He needed your help, and you gave it. It's as simple as that. Besides, you're a Jedi, aren't you? Isn't this what the Order teaches? That compassion and generosity are the most important aspects of your duty, your life?

Still, there's a nagging voice in the back of your head, a voice telling you that what you did was selfish. That you did it for yourself, not for him. That you did it because you care about him, because you can't stand the thought of him being hurt.

And, the truth is, it is. It is selfish, it is reckless. 

You're not a healer, not really. You don't know how to channel the Living Force, how to heal the wounded, or cure the sick. You only know how to take, how to absorb the pain and suffering of others and give something of yourself in return, and you've never done more than a handful of healing sessions in your life. You're a warrior, not a physician. 

And yet, here you are, playing medic, because it's Rex. Because you can't help yourself.

Rex finishes buckling his armor and looks at you, his expression unreadable. You meet his gaze, and a moment passes between the two of you. An understanding. A realization. Something is changing, something fundamental, and neither of you knows what to do about it. But you don't need to. Not yet.

"Listen," he starts, his voice soft. "I—"

"Sir!"

The two of you flinch, startled, and you turn towards the source of the voice, your hand drifting towards your lightsaber. Fives and Echo are jogging across the courtyard, their blasters raised. You relax, and Rex lets out a sigh, running a hand over his head.

"Yes?" he calls.

"General," Fives pants, and he skids to a stop, his helmet under his arm. "Sorry to interrupt, but we found something."

"What is it?" Rex asks, frowning. 

Fives glances at you, and a grim expression settles on his face. He shifts from foot to foot, his eyes darting between the two of you.

"It's...just come see."

Rex nods, and he gestures for Fives to lead the way. The trooper hurries off, and you follow, Rex at your side. The four of you weave through the rubble toward the castle, Fives and Echo in the lead, Rex and you a few steps behind. You feel a chill creep up your spine, a sense of unease filling you, and your hand rests on your lightsaber, your thumb brushing against the hilt.

As the doors loom overhead, Rex looks over his shoulder and meets your gaze. You shake your head, a silent warning, and he nods, his expression hardening.

Whatever it is, it's not good.

You pass through the archway and into the darkened hall. The interior is massive, a high vaulted ceiling overhead, with ornate columns rising from the floor to the roof. The walls are lined with marble, and the floor is polished black stone. There are statues lining the walls, and they look like they were once pristine, but now they're covered in soot, and chunks of the ceiling have fallen, smashing the art. The place smells like smoke and death.

"This way," Echo says, gesturing to the left. The group turns and heads down the hallway, your footsteps echoing around you.

As you move deeper into the castle, the air becomes thicker, the smell of smoke and dust growing stronger. The hallways narrow, and the walls become rougher, the marble replaced by stone. Torches flicker along the walls, casting eerie shadows across the floor.

Your uneasiness only compounds the further you walk, and a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. You're starting to feel sick, the sensation only growing stronger with each step.

You glance over at Rex to find him already watching you, his brow furrowed. He slows, letting the others get a few paces ahead, and he leans towards you, his voice low.

"What is it?" he asks. "Do you sense something?"

"I do," you whisper. You rub your temples, your eyes drifting closed. "But I can't put my finger on it. It's..."

"What?" he prompts.

"Dark," you say. "Very dark."

"Shit," he breathes. His hand reaches out, hovering near your shoulder, as if he wants to comfort you, but he hesitates. "Do you want to go back?"

"No," you murmur. You take a deep breath and open your eyes, meeting his concerned gaze. "I'll be fine."

"Alright," he says, though the worry remains in his eyes. He steps back, putting a little distance between the two of you, and he nods towards the others. "Let's catch up."

You nod, and the two of you resume walking, following the clones through the gloom. The air is getting colder, the scent of smoke growing stronger, and you can hear a low hissing sound, like gas escaping from a broken pipe. You grit your teeth, doing your best to ignore it. Whatever it is, whatever is making you feel so ill, it's coming from up ahead.

After what feels like an eternity, the four of you come to a stop outside a massive wooden door, and Fives looks back at Rex, gesturing towards the handle. The captain nods, and the trooper takes a deep breath, reaching for the knob.

"Ready?" he asks.

"No," you answer, and the three of them chuckle, the sound echoing around you.

Fives nods and pulls the door open, and a wave of cold air rushes out, blowing through your hair and making the torches flicker. You shiver, goosebumps rising on your skin, and a lump forms in your throat.

There's a long, winding staircase leading down into the darkness. The walls are covered in soot, and the stones are slick with ice. The air is frigid, and your breath mists in front of your face. You can hear the sound of dripping water, and the scent of dampness and decay fills the air.

"I don't like this," Fives mutters, and Echo grunts in agreement.

Rex looks over at you, and a wry grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. "What do you think, General?"

"It's creepy as hell," you deadpan.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he chuckles, and he steps forward, placing his foot on the first step. "Come on, then. Let's get this over with."

You follow him into the stairwell, and the rest of the squad falls in line behind you, the four of you descending into the darkness. The light from the torches quickly fades, and the only sound is the scrape of your boots against the ice-covered stone, and the occasional drip of water.

The further you go, the worse the feeling gets, and the air grows colder, the smell of rotting wood and mold invading your nose. You feel like you can't breathe, like there's a hand gripping your throat, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

"You sure you're alright?" Rex asks quietly. He doesn't turn to look at you, keeping his gaze fixed on the steps, his fingers gripping the railing.

"No," you murmur, and he frowns, glancing at you over his shoulder.

"Do you want to go back?" he asks.

"Not unless you do," you reply. "It's just..."

"Yeah," he agrees, nodding.

The stairs eventually level out, and the path opens into a cavernous chamber, the ceiling soaring high above your head. The walls are covered in stalactites, and the ground is slick with ice. You can't see beyond your hand, and you stumble forward, your foot sliding out from under you.

"Easy," Rex murmurs, grabbing your arm, steadying you.

"Thanks," you grunt, and you let out a shaky breath, trying to get your bearings. You draw your sabers, the yellow blades illuminating the room, and you hear the sound of the others' flashlights flicking on, the beams of light dancing around the space.

"What the hell is this place?" Fives asks. His voice is hushed, but it echoes around you, the silence deafening.

"I don't know," Rex whispers. He lets go of your arm and walks forward, his eyes scanning the room. You stay close, not wanting to lose him in the darkness. "It looks like some sort of dungeon, or..."

"A tomb," you finish, and he looks back at you, his brow furrowing.

"Yeah," he agrees. "It does."

You step forward, your gaze sweeping the area. The ceiling is high, the walls covered in icicles. The ground is smooth, with a layer of ice coating it, and you can see a path leading deeper into the cavern. You feel a tug, a pull, and your pulse quickens.

"Rex," you murmur.

"Yeah," he says. He follows your gaze, and he sighs, his expression grim. "I know."

You nod and begin moving forward, the others falling in line behind you. Your footsteps are muffled by the ice, and the air grows colder, a chill settling over the room. The light from your sabers doesn't seem to reach the walls, and the darkness presses in on you, like a living, breathing thing.

"General," Echo says, his voice low. "You don't think this is a trap, do you?"

"I don't know." You shrug, and the three clones let out a chorus of sighs. You turn and look back at them, arching an eyebrow. "If it is, it's not a very good one."

"True," Fives agrees. "Maybe Dooku isn't as smart as we thought."

"Or, maybe he's playing a different game," Rex says, his tone grim. He glances at you, his eyes lingering on yours. "Just...be ready."

"Always," you assure him.

You continue through the cave, the air growing colder, the ice thickening beneath your feet. The path twists and turns, and the ceiling lowers, until you have to duck to avoid the icicles hanging above.

Finally, the path opens into another large chamber, and you come to a stop, taking in the sight before you. The ground is littered with debris, chunks of stone and rubble scattered around the space. A row of unlit torches lines the walls, and you can see a series of steps leading down into the center of the room, the ground cracked and broken.

And there, in the middle of the chaos, is a pedestal.

You frown, stepping forward. There's something on top of the pedestal, but it's too far away to see clearly. You reach the edge of the broken ground, and you stop, peering down.

"What is that?" you murmur.

Rex comes up beside you, his brow furrowed. "Looks like a...box."

Your blood runs cold, and you turn, your hand twisting. The torches ignite, filling the room with light, and you see the box, the ornate wood gleaming in the torchlight. Its surface is scorched and dented, and it's covered in ash, but there's no mistaking it.

"Get out," you say, your voice hoarse.

"What?" Fives asks. "But we—"

"Get out!" you shout, and they flinch, stumbling backwards. "Now!"

Rex hesitates, his eyes darting from the box to your face, and you stare at him, your hands clenched into fists, the blood roaring in your ears. After a moment, he nods, and he raises his hand, signaling the others to fall back.

"Yes, sir," Fives murmurs, and he turns and begins marching back the way you came. Echo gives you a long look, his eyes lingering on yours, and then he, too, retreats. Rex doesn't move, and you turn, glaring at him.

"Go," you order.

"You told me to stay close to you, remember?" he retorts, and his voice is laced with anger, his jaw clenched. "Well, I am. And I'm not leaving."

You sigh, a headache building behind your eyes, and you shake your head. "Rex, I—"

"No," he growls. "Don't. Don't push me away."

"It's not—"

"You're not going through this alone."

"But—"

"I don't care."

His voice echoes around the chamber, and you swallow hard, the air rushing from your lungs. You stare at him, at his unwavering determination, his absolute refusal to back down, and a part of you wants to push him, wants to shove him away and send him back to the others. He's disobeying your orders, he's questioning your authority, and you should be angry. You should be furious.

But instead, you feel relieved.

You turn back towards the pedestal, the box gleaming in the flickering light, and a cold weight settles in the pit of your stomach.

"Alright," you sigh, deactivating your sabers and shoving them into their holsters. "Fine."

Rex's expression softens, and he reaches for you, his hand settling on your shoulder. You lean into him, his warmth comforting, and he squeezes gently.

"Thank you," he murmurs.

You nod, and the two of you begin the descent, slowly making your way down the broken path. The ground is slick with ice, and your feet slide a few times, Rex's grip on your shoulder tightening to keep you from falling. You finally reach the bottom, and you approach the pedestal, a lump forming in your throat.

You stand over the box, and you run your fingers along the surface. It's warm, and there's a faint vibration, the Force humming with energy.

"What is it?" Rex asks, his voice quiet.

"It's..." You trail off, and you swallow hard. "It's what I found when I went out that night."

He frowns, and then recognition dawns on his face, and his eyes widen. "You mean when you were attacked?"

"Yes," you whisper.

Rex is silent, and you stare at the box, a wave of emotion welling up inside you. Anger, sadness, grief. They mix together, churning in your stomach, and you clench your fists, the nails digging into your palms. You can feel the darkness swirling around you, a miasma of pain and fury, and it threatens to drown you. But you can't look away, can't turn your back.

"Are you sure?" he murmurs.

"Yes," you repeat, and the word comes out thick, the tears burning hot. "I'm sure."

"Then, it's him," Rex whispers, his voice laced with sympathy. He steps closer, his hand settling on your back, his thumb rubbing slow circles between your shoulder blades. "Isn't it?"

"It is."

You reach out and place your hand on the lid, and the wood is smooth and cool under your fingertips. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself, and then, with a single, smooth motion, you lift the lid. The hinges creak, the sound echoing around the chamber, and a cloud of dust swirls in the air.

The inside of the box is lined with a velvet material, the fabric faded and worn. The scrap of her robe is still there, along with the datapad, but that isn't what makes your heart seize in your chest. 

It's the lightsaber.

You recognize it immediately, the sleek, silver hilt a stark contrast against the crimson fabric. It's the same design, the same length, the same width. You've seen it a hundred times, a thousand, more than you can count. But the last time you saw it, it was in her hands, a blaze of green light. Now, it sits, cold and lifeless, and the ache inside you only grows.

And when you reach out, your fingers brushing the blade, the hum that vibrates up your arm is unmistakable. The same hum, the same vibration, the same power. Her power.

"Is that..." Rex breathes, his eyes wide.

"Yes," you choke out, the tears spilling over.

You can feel his presence behind you, his energy warm and steady. But even his strength can't shield you from the anguish that bubbles up inside you, a deep, primal wound reopening. It's a wound you've spent the past ten years ignoring, pushing aside, burying deep, but now it's tearing you apart, the pain consuming you.

Your hand encloses around the hilt, pulling it to your chest. The metal is cold, and you can feel the steady, rhythmic pulse of the kyber crystal inside, a faint echo of her Force signature. It's been so long since you've felt her presence. Since you've been able to sense her power, her wisdom, her kindness.

It's like a knife to the heart, the wound reopened, bleeding anew.

Rex's hand grips your shoulder, a comforting weight, but the sorrow is a tidal wave, drowning you. It's all too much. The memories, the guilt, the regret. They crash over you, threatening to drag you under, and a sob tears from your lips. You're falling, the darkness consuming you, the void swallowing you whole. You're spiraling out of control, the pain overwhelming, and you can't stop it, can't hold it back. All you can do is cling to the hilt, to her weapon, and hope she can forgive you.

But as you fall to your knees, Rex is there. His arms wrap around you before you can hit the ground, a cry ripping from your throat, and the two of you sink down together, your head pressed against his shoulder.

You bury your face in his neck, the tears flowing freely, your body trembling. His hand finds yours, the one holding her lightsaber, and he entwines his fingers with yours, his other arm tightening around your waist. He's whispering something, his voice soft and soothing, but you can't make out the words, can't focus on anything but the pain. And as Rex holds you, your face pressed against his neck, you let go.

You let the emotions wash over you, the grief and the agony and the remorse. You let the darkness consume you, and you let yourself feel the pain. Because this is what she would have wanted. This is what she would have told you.

To let go. To release the past. To find peace.

So, that's what you do. For the first time in ten years, you let yourself mourn.

You mourn the loss of her, the emptiness in your life, the absence of her guidance, her friendship. You mourn the future that could have been, the bond the two of you shared. The connection that was severed, the wound that will never heal.

It's the most painful thing you've ever experienced, and the agony is a physical thing, clawing at your chest, tearing through your heart. It's the most intense emotion you've ever felt, and it's excruciating, but you don't pull away. You don't hide from it. Instead, you cling to Rex, his arms a steady, reassuring weight around you, and you let yourself feel it. All of it.

"I'm sorry," you gasp, your voice muffled against his armor. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he murmurs, his voice strained, and his fingers tangle in your hair, holding you tighter against him. "It's not your fault."

"I couldn't...I wasn't...I tried to..." You can't get the words out, can't form a coherent sentence, and your head throbs, the pain blinding. "I couldn't save her."

"You did everything you could," he says. "You didn't fail her. You didn't fail anyone."

You want to believe him, to let his words soothe the ache, but the sorrow is overwhelming, the guilt crushing. And, even as you cry, a part of you feels guilty for showing him this side of you. For letting him see the weakness, the vulnerability. But the truth is, you've been weak for a long time, and he's been there every step of the way.

He's seen your worst, and yet, he's stayed.

"I miss her," you sob, the tears burning hot. "I just..."

"I know," he breathes. His cheek presses against the top of your head, his fingers stroking your hair. "I'm so sorry."

You don't know how long you sit there in the icy cavern, Rex's arms wrapped around you. You cry until there are no tears left, until the sobs turn to hiccups, and the hiccups turn to shuddering breaths. And all the while, Rex is there, his grip never loosening, his voice never wavering.

When the last of the tears have dried, you slump against him. Your body feels heavy, drained, and the lightsaber is a dead weight in your hand, the cold metal leeching what little warmth you have left.

You lift your head, and Rex's gaze meets yours. You're surprised to see his eyes are wet too, his lashes clumped together. His nostrils flare, and he lets out a shaky breath, trying to keep his composure. He gives you a weak smile, and you swallow hard, the words getting stuck in your throat.

"Thank you," you finally manage, and the words come out thick, the tears welling again. "I...I don't know what to say. I didn't expect—"

"Hey," he murmurs as his thumbs wipe away the tears, his touch gentle. "You don't have to say anything. I understand."

You nod, and he pulls you against him, his head resting on top of yours. The two of you fall into another silence, your arms wrapped around each other, the lightsaber clasped tightly in your fist.

Eventually, the sound of footsteps fills the cavern, and you hear the others calling out, their voices echoing around you. Rex pulls away, and he looks over his shoulder, watching as the troopers approach. His body shields you from view, protecting your privacy, and a wave of gratitude washes over you.

"Not yet," he says, his voice stern, and the footsteps stop, hesitating. "We need a few minutes."

"General," Fives calls. "Are you alright?"

"She's fine," Rex answers for you.

"Are you sure? We heard crying."

"She's fine," he repeats, his voice hardening. "Just...give us a minute."

You close your eyes, exhaustion tugging at your limbs, and you rest your head on Rex's shoulder, letting the sounds of his voice soothe you. The others are talking, whispering amongst themselves, but you can't make out the words. You're not sure you want to.

You don't know how long the two of you sit there, but eventually, the voices grow quiet, and you hear the troopers walking away, their footsteps fading into the distance. When they're gone, you open your eyes and stare at the ground, the tears drying on your cheeks.

"You didn't tell them," you say, your voice quiet.

"No," he admits. "I didn't."

"Why?"

"Because," he murmurs. He turns, his hand reaching up, his fingers tilting your chin towards him. Your gazes meet, his eyes soft, and he brushes a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "You deserved a moment alone to grieve. Without the others staring."

You nod, and a weak smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, the tears welling once more. He cares so much, cares more than he should, and it warms your heart despite the cold surrounding you.

"Thank you," you whisper, and the words come out strained, your voice cracking.

"It's the least I can do," he replies. Rex lets go of your chin, his hand falling back to his side. "I wish I could do more."

"You're already doing more than enough," you tell him, and you mean it. If not for him, you would have lost yourself completely. The thought terrifies you, but also warms you. He's saved you, time and time again, without even realizing it. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"You could have," he says, his expression earnest. "But I'm glad you didn't have to."

"Me, too," you murmur.

The two of you stay there for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the only sound the faint drip of water. The air is frigid, the chill seeping into your bones, and you shiver, goosebumps rising on your skin.

"Come on," Rex says. He gives your shoulder a squeeze, his hand trailing down your arm and coming to a rest on your elbow. "Let's get out of here."

"Yeah," you agree, and you let him help you to your feet, your legs shaking. You brush the dirt and grime from your clothes, and then look down at the box, your mouth pulling into a grimace.

"I can't believe he kept it," you mutter, placing the lightsaber back inside, the scrap of fabric on top of it. The lid falls shut, a loud thump echoing around the chamber.

"I'm not surprised," Rex replies, his tone laced with bitterness. He shakes his head, a scowl on his face.  "He likes his trophies."

"He's sick," you mutter. The rage is starting to burn inside you again, the pain giving way to anger, a familiar, comforting emotion. "Do you think this was his plan all along? To lure me here?"

"Maybe," he admits, his eyes sweeping the area, his expression hardening. "But that doesn't matter now. What matters is that you have your evidence. You can finally get justice."

"Justice," you repeat. The word tastes like ash in your mouth. You shake your head, your lips pulling into a thin line. "All I want is revenge."

"Revenge won't bring her back," Rex murmurs. His hand rests on your lower back, his warmth seeping through the fabric. "You need to be smarter than that. We can't—"

"I know," you interrupt. "I know we can't."

"If it was up to me..." He trails off, his jaw clenched, his fingers flexing against your spine.

"Yeah," you sigh. You reach out and pick up the box, the weight of it heavy in your arms. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself, and then glance up at him, a wry smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "Wishful thinking, right?"

"Wishful thinking," he echoes, and the two of you share a chuckle, the tension in the air easing. 

Rex looks at you, a softness in his gaze, and a strange feeling passes between the two of you, the understanding, the acceptance. This war is not about justice, it's not about peace. It's about survival, and the two of you have to fight tooth and nail just to stay alive. But the fact that he's fighting with you, the fact that he's by your side, means everything.

"Come on," he says, and he gently guides you towards the path, his hand lingering on your back.

You nod, and the two of you begin walking, your footsteps echoing around the chamber. You follow the path, Rex's presence steady at your side, and the darkness recedes, the torchlight growing brighter. You can feel the weight of the box in your arms, the pulse of the kyber crystal, the whisper of her Force signature.

Yaddle.

Your Master. Your family.

Gone.

And the one responsible, just out of reach.

But if you can make the Council listen, maybe, just maybe, you can find a way to bring him to justice.

Or maybe it's just wishful thinking.

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[kanene-yaaay]

The Benefits of a Restful Sleep (and other things that a friend can help you with)

Kanene's notes: In my defense, Dogday is way too cute and kind. That was his mistake. Now I just HAD to make an entire story where he is alive and the Player is both the most stubborn bean ever and the biggest softie to set a foot in the factory. That is it. That is the entire story. Warnings: Mentioned death as a form of reset, angst and mention of injury and blood. It's discussed but not too deeply and isn't the main plot of the story. Raspberries, nibbles, lots of teasing, hurt/comfort and roothing fluff. Reader is adressed with they/them. Around 9.500 words. Heavily inspired by @fluffymary 's wonderful, incredible stories. Take a look at them too :D

[~*~]

You were exhausted.

That was a problem.

Sure, tiredness wasn’t really a new feeling in your life when you looked at the big scheme of things. Even before you went back to your old workplace, it used to cling on your bones, to fill your mind with memories and to pull your spirits down at any time of the day when a kid’s laughter or flowers would remind you of everything you tried so hard to leave behind.

(And look where you are now.)

The constant ‘fighting for your life’ thing also hasn't been helping a lot lately. Adrenaline and the will to keep on living were perfect for the battles but could only get you so far when the feeling of danger and fear scrutinized all of your steps, stalking in any and every corner, waiting for the right moment to strike. Days and hours became a total mess and the longer you spent on exploring and surviving, the more and more things that were once important started to fade to a background thought in your head.

Food was one of them. Water. Sleep. The debris and destruction brought a lot of memories and enemies but hardly a safezone where you could actually sit down, breathe and rest for a bit. It was fine, though. The solution was simple and quick. 

Dying.

Sounded harsh when you thought about it in that way, to be honest. 

Resetting. 

Or something like that.

Not during a fight, of course. After the first couple of times, it quickly became annoying and no fun at all to have to experience all the chase and… other things more than once. However, on other occasions, missteps into an abyss happen and sometimes a bad calculation using the grabpack could be fatal (and more frequent than you should admit.) 

You couldn’t deny its convenience. In a blink you would wake up, not hungry, thirsty or exhausted, a few meters behind your previous location and then you would be ready to go until the pain of hunger or the feeling of being in a brick of passing out appeared once again.

It was not the best, you knew, but it was a good enough solution. 

It was fine.

(It was fine.) 

Especially now, when you have someone else depending on you to survive. Saving Dogday had been tricky and much, much harder than the alternative. Keeping him alive after that, during the smiling critters chase and the aftermath, even more so. None of this didn’t really matter, though. It was worth it. 

The beginning had been tougher. With all the emotions, the changes, pain (and how to keep going after all of that), going back to Home Sweet Home and getting into more trouble trying to turn on all the generators. The fact that, not very longer after getting into the Daycare, you found a new, clean fabric and a set of tools to take care of Dogday’s injuries was the perfect help, even if the coincidence of that encounter had bordered on a miracle that made your skin prickle in discomfort as you had stared at the sewing kit localized (placed) just a few meters away from you two. There was no way that this could have been accidental. 

(Ever since you set a foot in this factory not a single encounter, voice, tape or battle seemed a coincidence and the fear of the image that this puzzle was creating haunted your every choice.)

Nevertheless, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Even though Dogday stayed unusually quiet for a really long time after his injuries were taken care of, he still insisted on using it despite both of your strong suspicions, not wanting to be a ‘burden’, anymore.

You disagreed strongly with that word, of course. Not only because his knowledge of the place and the little shortcuts or hidden spaces had been essential both to escape from the hungry toys and to make your path confusing enough to mislead any pursuers you had was essential to your survival, but also because… 

Damn. 

You just really missed this.

Chatting. Having someone truly by your side. No second intentions or guesses or working around to earn a couple of moments of dialogue. Just a companionship and a fighter if needed, someone bright who could, just with their presence and company, help to keep your focus and your objectives in mind. 

Dogday’s voice was raspy and rough but his words were light and kind. He would insist on calling you ‘angel’ and gesture excitedly around when he was talking, pulling your attention back when you began losing yourself in your thoughts. He would help solving the complicated puzzles spread through the factory and hold your hand tight to hide the tremble of his own paws when you both went through somewhere too dark. He would joke and hold and help and you wished you could put in words how no trouble in the world could make his presence here not worth it. 

That is why you couldn’t afford passing out right now. That is why you kept pulling one foot after the other and continued your path to the end of this hell.

Unfortunately, the very reason that kept you moving forward was the same one blocking you from actually managing to reset your body and get over that tiredness.

The fact that Dogday cared.

He was smart and quite smooth too. That was clear after all the times he would ‘accidentally’ get in front of you when you managed to step a bit too close from a deepless hole or how he would suddenly remember a shortcut that would have you to deviate from the giant abyss you had been eyeing for a few moments ago or when he distracted you as he followed another direction, a light pull on your wrist and a inviting conversation on the tip of his tongue, the pit getting farther and farther away.

It was a bit endearing, you couldn’t lie.

However, when a badly placed hand of your grabpack successfully made you slip from a fatal high and you only had time to listen to a surprised yelp (or more like a ‘yap’?) before a giant orange arm held you close to a fluffy chest you were actually torn between hitting something in frustration and melting in the warmth.

Dogday smiled, looking down. 

“Ops, you almost fell in there, angel.” His eyebrow was crooked and his expression filled with tension and confusion. Yep. He definitely realized what was going on. That kind of sucks.

He started heading the other direction, taking a different path to where you were going. “You‘re really tired, aren’t you? Saving everyone must cost a lot of energy.” His eyes softened. You struggled to keep yours open, body inevitably relaxing with his voice and kind touch. “And, well, I don’t think you had a lot of opportunities to rest since you got here too, right? Ehehe. That is… a bit worrisome. Humans need plenty of sleep and we have been walking for a long time already!”

You have survived longer without it. It was fine. There were more generators that had to be turned on before anything else. Those were your priorities.

Dogday acknowledged the end of your sentence before shaking his head vehemently, his ears flopping around in an endearing way. 

“The generators have been turned off for a long time now, a few more hours won’t hurt. You are our priority, angel.” Dogday tried to not let his tail wag in adorableness when he pulled you closer to his chest and you let your head and eyelids fall with a really tiny, quiet sound for a moment too long before opening them and watching him in a stubborn manner. “And I think I know somewhere where we can hide for long enough before continuing.” 

He watched as you deviated your gaze, thoughtful. Almost there.

“Besides, my kind angel” he let his posture go, just a little. The exhaustion from… everything showing from the light of his eyes to the darkness of his mouth. Trusting had been what got him stuck but also what freed him. He could offer this human a bit more of it. “I-I really think I need time to recover. Sometimes it just… hurts.”

He looked down and you didn’t need to follow his gaze to get what he was saying.

Oh.

Oh.

That was what settled it. You nodded. But he had to put you on the ground. 

You kept your expression firm and ignored his playful chuckle and the way he only pulled you closer with your words, because if he kept holding you, there was no way you would not fall asleep instantly and you both couldn’t afford that until he got to that safe place.

With a huff and a beginning of a pout he acquiesced and put you on the cracked floor, getting your point. He had to hide his snickers with his paw when you wobbled on the same spot for a second before eventually gathering your strength back, feeling a million times more tired. 

Urg. Relaxing was a mistake.

“Don’t worry, it’s not too far from here. We will get there in no time!” 

(...)

Took longer than he expected for you to finally lay down, but it was worth it. The place was one of the old dorms so there were a lot of pillows and mattresses thrown around, a few somewhat still holding a good condition for use. With the help of some furniture and moving around, you managed to barricade the door and build a sort of nest hidden in a farther corner so that it would be really difficult to notice through any window. 

The human seemed ready to pass out at any moment, yawning and giving the door a last look, watching every creek and tear on the walls for anything that could be dangerous, even after all their previous care to make this place as safe as possible. Silly dear.

Dogday has always prided himself in being perceptive. Both because of the kids he once needed to watch and take care of and also because it’s important to notice and understand the details around your teammates so he would know when to help them.

(Old habits die hard, as it seems.)

And, yeah, maybe it had something to do with how long he spent without seeing a human or how he missed having someone (anyone-) who cared so much around. But he couldn’t really help to watch, prod and pick every little detail and gesture of yours around as if he was collecting flowers in a garden. Humans were so… expressive, and this one wasn’t different at all. 

Angel was fierce and determined, going silently and non stop through the facility and all their objectives with a focused mind and precise movements. Their senses and general environmental awareness were good, too, catching hints and dangers just a second or two after Dogday himself caught them, which, considering their small ears and eyes, was an incredible feat. 

Still, like a true angel, strength and kindness walked side by side with them. Dogday didn’t say that only because that person was the literal reason he was alive today, but simply because it was clear as water how much of a true softie you were inside. It was in the way they fired only around the small smile critters, avoiding to actually burn and kill them (even though he didn’t really know how he should feel about it), on how they carried and treated his wounds and how all their features - tensed, anxious and angry - softened everytime they looked at him. 

It was on the way that they walked slower to accompany him, amusing his rambles with pokes of fun and interesting additions and in how each touch or word was filled with tenderness and respect. He didn’t feel like a toy with them like some old employers had made him feel before or a failure as… others made him believe.

So, his companionship was extremely captivating and maybe that was why it hadn’t been really hard to notice how the little tiny hints and actions came together to form a quite worrisome image of how disregarding about their own safety they were. Jumping into fights, crawling into dangerous, small spaces without thinking twice (he couldn’t get them there, if he needed he couldn’t get them there-), following strangers’ orders and running over cliffs as if their life wasn’t the thing that mattered the most and Dogday would always be there to catch them when they fell.

(What did they use to do when he wasn’t?)

Even now, he huffed as the human slowly took off the grabpack while still not even lowering themselves on the mattress or trying to get comfortable even though they seemed ready to slip into unconsciousness at any time now. Alert to the very last second.

It felt a bit nostalgic, if he was being honest. At least helping someone to go to sleep was a kind of problem that he knew how to solve. 

With no further ado, he let himself fall on the soft pile with a ‘oof’, slowly rolling around the cleanest pillows they found and hugging the mattress as a loud, relaxed sighing fled from his mouth. His entire body seemed to untense with the unexpected comfortable feeling. How long had it been since he could just enjoy being surrounded by softness and safety like this?

His tail began contently thumping on the pile, another sigh leaving his mouth and making him forget for a moment his objective as he rolled more and more on the spot, the pure feeling of bliss taking over his senses until the sound of amused chuckles brought him back to reality.

He opened his eyes only to find an incredibly fond gaze looking right back at him. The absurd weight that haunted his friend’s shoulders seemed to have disappeared for a moment and, if he really concentrated enough on those kind eyes, it was like the rest of the world became unfocused. That is right! Dogday shook his head, as if cleaning it from his distracting thoughts. He had a mission to accomplish! Get the human to rest! No more fooling around!

“Hmmmm, It’s so, so, sooo comfy here!” Dogday controlled his voice so his playful tune wouldn’t show too much and give away his plan. He got a pillow and shoved his face on it just to highlight his words. “Like a kingdom made of clouds, where all the citizens get to lay down and rest all day, everyday and their favorite hobby is to cuddle and snuggle. Sounds like a nice place, don’t you think?” 

You agreed, snorting when two expectanting lights turned around and Dogday patted the spot right beside him, only smiling bigger when you pretended to roll your eyes and finally, finally, laid down, barely touching the pile before your body crumbled the rest of the way.

It was… really soft. Even more than you expected from such old furniture but that could be the exhaustion talking. A relieved groan filled the place and before you could process that it came from your lips two arms came and carefully pulled you to a bunch of even softer fluff, which automatically made you snuggle closer, hugging the pillow (friend?) and relaxing, body aching with how much tension flew away from it so quickly.

A sweet voice said something in the background, but all of your senses melted together with your muscles when a hand began rubbing your back, drawing light circles on your spine and following it to your neck, briefly massaging it before going back to the back rubs.

That nice voice kept talking and you could briefly distinguish the words ‘deserve’, ‘rest’ and ‘good’ before the hand got a bit too close to your side and you giggled. The hand stilled but it was okay, it just tickled, that is all. No need to stop. 

This was really nice, you kind of missed it. 

You snuggled more.

All of it. It’s been a while.

As the darkness of the unconsciousness started taking you away, an amused, fond ‘aww’ was the last thing you heard.

(...)

You woke up with a scare.

Nothing necessarily happened, but your body immediately tensed, in alert. Blurry eyes traveled with speed around the room in search for any kind of movement, the silence helping to amplify the sound of any enemy that could be closer. 

One second, two seconds…all you could pick up was the paused, calm snoring of Dogday still being deeply asleep.

Right. Safe. You were both safe.

You let go of a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, blinking rapidly to scare the sleep out of your sight as you looked up, mind finally getting time to grasp the memories from last… (night? hours? day? irrelevant). The quick beating of your heart started to slow down to a normal pace and you laid down again on the mattress, now wide awake.

Dogday was still sleeping. That was good. He deserved all the peaceful rest he could get after everything that happened.

And, to be honest, it was quite amusing to watch him sleep. Each time he snored his big ears flopped just the slightest bit around and from time to time those little muffled barks would appear on the back of his throat and his tail would wag a bit, not so different from a real dog.

(He truly was a marvel of science.)

At one time you could almost swear he said a name, but it was so low that you couldn’t quite catch it.

Beyond all of that, you couldn’t deny how right Dogday had been, resting really did wonders to your body and mood. You could feel your mind clearer and your muscles less stiff, even if still quite sore. Also, it was made in a rush, that is true, but the soft pillow pile really was comforting enough that it didn’t make it any easier to get up and go on about your day.

Still, as always, there was work to do. It really wouldn’t hurt to get up in the vents and walk around a bit to see if there was any murder toy wandering close so you could attract them away before they could interrupt Dog’s sleep. 

It wasn’t anything really that urgent, however,… It felt weird not doing anything in this place, to deliberately choose to stay instead of to move. Letting your guard down last night had been literally the only thing you could do with how exhausted you were and having a trustful friend close by your side, but now? When you were more rested and nowhere close to the exit? The jittery feeling was already catching up to you. 

You tried to get up, only to be stopped by an arm closing on your midriff, a nose being pressed on the top of of head and nuzzling it with care before a raspy voice - you really needed to find some kind of oil or toolbox to help with his voicebox, sometimes it felt like he was always with a sore throat - glitched for a half second before coming to life in a quiet, slurred “Angel?”

Good morning, sleepy beauty.

Dogday huffed in amusement. Silence washed over you both once again.

A while passed and no more words were exchanged. Uh, probably went back to sleep already. You tried to carefully extract yourself from his hold. 

“Mm? What happened?” Dogday yawned, sounding a bit more awake this time. “Do we have to go?” He propped himself in one elbow, using his enormous height to peak over the hiding place and watch the door and windows, ears perking up in a search of any strange sound. “I’m not listening to any danger. This is a good spot.”

You agreed, feeling a tad bad that you woke up your companionship unnecessarily with your unrelenting thoughts. Nothing really happened, you assured, he could go back to sleep if he wanted. You could stay with the guarding shift.

Rubbing his eyes and yawning more, the sentient toy then changed his focus to you, noticing the slight drop in your tune, mind becoming clearer as he added to that detail the stiffness that went back in your shoulders. His brain tried to connect the dots.

“Did you have a nightmare, sunshine?”

No, not really. 

“What happened?”

It’s all just… too much thoughts. You wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep like this, not without a distraction. It would be the best if you got something to do, so he could go back to his nap. It was fine, you would stay awake in guard.

“I see.”

He laid back down, however, instead of letting you go and immediately go back to sleep, as you expected, he began massaging your shoulders, mouth turning into a pout when that didn’t make you melt completely in blissful slumber like last night, but at least got some of the tension out. 

Even if it felt like the human continued to hold onto every last drop of stress for some reason, refusing to close their eyes or fully relax. Knowing their current situation, Dogday could understand. But still, his friend should be able to enjoy this little chance of a rest that they’ve got. They were both so tired and finally had a good place to spend some good old lazy time without being worried about running for their lives or seeing nightmares at each blink of eyelids. It was not the best spot that the factory could once offer, of course, yet nowadays it was like a piece of heaven.

He wished he could help his angel to enjoy it. Yesterday they seemed so happy. But unless he could think in a good distraction…

A sudden thought then popped in his head, a memory from what happened the previous night. An idea.

Hm.

“Sunshine, do you like games?”

Games? Like… hide and seek or catch? 

Dogday nodded, looking eager. 

Yeah, you did. Even so, you don’t think that making up some ruckus will be good to keep up their hidden spot, well, hidden.

“No, no! This one doesn’t involve running or anything that could give up our location. Actually, you won’t even need to move from where you are to play it.”

Really? Well, it was worth a shot, then. 

“Alright. Do you remember what happened when we found those old rags in one of the corridors a few days ago?”

Yes, you did.

You watched as Dogday chuckled, like he knew something you didn’t and, with a crooked eyebrow, you stared at him, trying to remember the mentioned moment better. 

Nowadays his fur was no longer the bright orange that it once was like the old cardboards and tv episodes showed, but at least it got a resemblance of a cleaned state after using some good-enough rags you found on the way to one of the generators. You both did the best to take out the debris, dust and blood from him. It took longer than it should because the taller toy kept squirming and wiggling around in an adorable inescapable fit of giggles, not really being a big help as, in between his laughter, he kept claiming that it really, really tickled. 

As a good friend, of course, you just grabbed the rag he let fall after a bit of lil cleaning on his poor ticklish tummy and racked both hands up and down his sides, scribbling away while he hid his smile behind hands, muffling his loud crackles. The cleaning didn’t stop there and hunted each tiny spot and slight hint of dust off him with plenty of scratches, prodding and drumming everywhere your hands could reach, catching all the titters, snickers and snorts that danced in the rhythm of your fingers. Your own giggles did not take much longer to follow them. 

Dogday’s paw continued to run in a light touch on your back and suddenly a bolt of electricity jolted you up when your mind connected the memory of his playful demisse to what he just said.

Your eyes widened and his expression opened into a smirk, sensing the very same moment you got to the conclusion that you were about to get absolutely and utterly destroyed with tickles.

You tried pushing him away, one hand twisting behind to catch his wrist as the other hand fought to snatch his free one, which kept flying away from yours in a game of mouse and cat. 

“Wait, angel!” He couldn’t help but laugh, especially as your movements got more and more uncoordinated the longer they kept this little game, even before he truly attempted to do anything. A wobbly smile was already taking over your face, only growing bigger when every swipe he did in your direction - only to be deflected by your hands - made your entire skin tingle and prickle in anticipation. Each adorable reaction only assisting in making Dogday more determined that he choose the right distraction. “Don’t you want to know about the game? I bet that you will love it! I used to play and win all the time so I can teach you every special trick of mine.”

No, no, no, no! You knew exactly what he was doing! There was no such thing as a game!

“Gasp!” You were sure that Dogday would be dramatically putting a hand on his chest if it wasn’t for the rough housing, but sudden noise was successful to break your concentration. He used his trapped hand to sneak a quick jab on your side, ripping out a delightful screech before you slammed your back again on the mattress, both hands now in front of you, no longer moving, yet still ready to defend and attack. “I would never lie to you, my beautiful, beautiful beacon of light, the only and one sunshine, my angel.”

He was not going to succeed in distracting you again with those sugary sweet nicknames! You knew exactly what he was doing and you wouldn’t let him get you.

“No, no, you got me wrong, angel.” Dogday booped your nose, seeming like he couldn’t control himself with excitement and a smug kind of joy that only grew the longer you both stared at each other, waiting for the moment to strike. His tail wagged and he pretended to lounge at your stomach, stopping inches before touching it and drinking the way that a squeal escaped from your mouth, body stuck into a position between laying down and curling on itself, giggles quickly filling the room. Actually, you could feel yourself getting giddier at each second, completely aware that there was no way for you to get out of this and no other option besides wait for the next attack.

The way that this thought only made butterflies go crazy on your belly should be illegal.

Dogday continued as if nothing happened. “This isn’t the game. The game only starts when I start to tickle you, silly! And it is called ‘Try To Not Laugh’.” He managed to waltz through your defenses, his index finger and thumb catching your side in a grip way too light to even be considered a pinch. It made you try to squirm with a snort to the other direction, as if he just had unleashed a ruthless attack of squeezes on the spot. 

His grin glimmered and he let you go, chuckling. You could feel the phantom touch still. 

(Why did his paws have to be so fuzzy!?) 

“It means that you can’t giggle, squeal, snicker, chuckle, snort, chortle, shriek or laugh! No matter how much it tickles, itches or ‘feels funny’.” Dogday counted each reaction pulling up a finger and you tried to not let your face melt as he just kept talking, looking more and more delighted with how each word seemed to make you twitch on the spot, his paws clawing in your direction when he was done. 

Before you could think, he went for your neck, fingertips barely, just the slightest bit, grazing the skin before you catched his wrists and pushed them away, scrunching your neck as tiny tickly sparks spread like fire across your nerves. A sound akin to a keysmash left your lips and Dogday looked like you had just given him the best news of his entire existence.

He tilted his head and watched his own captured paws for a piece of moment before shrugging. He continued on with his explanation.

“In turn I will try my true best to make you laugh. And that can mean anything! I can fill your entire cute neck with aaaaall the raspberries that it could ever want, wiggle my claws on your ticklish armpits, play your ribs like a very lovely piano, squeeze your sides non stop until you’re dancing around like a wiggly worm, maybe even give your tummy a few scratches and scribbles, or, or even better! I can play ‘This little piggy’ with your toes over and over again until your sweet laughter fills this entire room like the sweetest melody. And then we can do it all over but with you giggling and snickering ringing free the entire time! Doesn’t it sound like a fun idea, my angel?”

Oh, you were going to die. Whether he decided to tickle you right away or keep the teases for who knows how long, you don’t think that your face would survive being under so much heat for so long.

Besides, this is not fair at all! He will win it anyway, you couldn’t hold on your laughter forever while he t-, while he attacks you.

“Aww, but, sunshine, tickling is hardly an attack!” His face got closer and suddenly you realized that he did not need any free hand to accomplish his first promise of tickles. 

With wide eyes you tried to roll away, but to do so, you would have to let his paws go, and you knew very well that the moment this happened, it would be a game over for you. For the way that Dogday grinned in your direction, he reached the same conclusion as well. “Also, I can’t even touch you, right now! I think you can win this.” Dogday wiggled his paws in your hold, as if proving his point. 

With (an eager) trepidation, you watched as his face continued to get closer, prying a couple of titters when his floppy, fuzzy ears brushed your own ears. He chuckled at your reaction, a mix of fondness and playful, fake frustration painting his words. “Sunshine, you’re already giggling? I will have to take my last words back, then, I don’t think this game will last too long, anymore.” 

Oh ho ho, he should just wait, because when you get him back you then he was going to see who was-

Dogday shoved his face on the crook of your neck and immediately began nuzzling the spot without a worry in the world, successfully cutting your threat short.

Wait! Wait!

“Don’t mind me, angel, please continue.” He huffed and puffed on the spot, shivers running in a hilarious cacophony across your every sense, almost ripping a squeal from your lips. Actually, just like his words hitting the skin, you could feel the way that snickers began pooling in your throat, waiting for any tiny chance to escape. You clamped your mouth shut, a muffled snort taking over. You were going to at least try to hold them in and try your chances at winning this childish game, for your own pride, if nothing else. 

He didn’t have his paws to tickle, right? I mean, how bad could it really be?

Dogday hummed, each word vibrating on the skin in an almost unbearable manner, making you want to jump away and at the same time let yourself get lost in the sensations. “What were you saying, angel? Please, don’t stop because of me! You know I always love to hear what you have to say.”

You shook your head, partially in an attempt to somehow escape from the tickling and partially to dissipate the energy that was building up on your system. Anything to not focus on the snickers bouncing freely in your chest.

“No? Not a word? Aw.” You could feel the fake pout the sentient toy did right before letting his features go back to that dangerous, mischievous grin. “I have a question for you, then! Do you know what is the tickle puppy favorite’s fruit?”

You knew a trap when you saw one, so you kicked your legs, trying and failing to let out any protest because you were sure that if you stopped pressing your lips in a tight line for even half of a second, there would be no stopping from the waterfall of laughter.

“Raspberries!”

A shriek almost made you lose when he unleashed the first raspberry, more and more of them being quick to follow right after. On the base of your neck, your collarbone, under your chin and in every inch on the unprotected spot. There was nowhere safe from the awfully buzzing that made every other feeling disappear, seeing to tickle every nerve and making tingles to run crazy in absolutely everywhere. He even grazed the back of your ears with a couple of raspberries, cooing when you tried to shrink and hide the spot by pressing them on your shoulder, only succeeding to leave the other side of your neck completely free for more nuzzles and tickles, an opportunity that Dogday was fast to take, taking turns in bashing every side of your neck in a tickly attention. 

Another quiet, muffled squeak painted the air.

Dogday lifted his head again, entire demeanor completely melting for a piece of time when he saw you (oh my stars, look at this amazing smile!) before that joyful light was back in his eyes. Once more, he tried wiggling his paws out of your hold, but your grip continued to be as firm as ever, your wobbly smile shining in a challenge.

Oh, you’re just so fun!

“Gasp! It seems like I am stuck! Oh no, angel, what will I do now?” His gaze then traveled to your stomach, and all the hints that softness had ever been present in his features instantly evaporated as his face became something more playful, even a tad devilish, with a hint of hunger. 

“My, my,” you didn’t exactly know why, but his voicebox glitched, jumping between a light taunting tune and his usual lower one. “Is that a delicious tummy that I see? Poor thing, it must be so cold to be shaking like this. Well, and what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t offer any help, huh?”

Your friend was quite tall and kind of clumsy when he walked around, too. Now, how that clumsy toy was able to, in a span of less than a blink, take a gigantic breath and immediately attack your stomach with it was a true mystery that you didn’t had a lot of time to think about when your entire body took a screenshot for a long, long second, ticklish sensations exploding in a frenzy, before your entire torso instinctively beginning to trash, loud peals of laughter jumping freely on the tip of your tongue, begging to be free. They cheered in excitement and only grew stronger when other smaller raspberries took their turn to explore every spot, every sensitive creek or place of your stomach, breaking more and more of your barriers, little by little. It took every single ounce of strength to not lose the game right here and there.

Dogday didn’t even pretend to be holding back, anymore. Right as you survived another tiny raspberry that got way too close to your side to be an accident, a nibble appeared, catching you so out of guard that it made your arch your back, legs kicking with adrenaline. But the tickly, light nibbles weren’t diverted, intertwining with tiny raspberries in a mischievous dance that increased your internal laughing into a tenfold.

That was when one of them hit the spot closer to your bellybutton and you couldn’t take it anymore. Your hands let go of his wrists to push his stupid smiling - so proud and so bright - face away, body squirming and eyes crinkling on the corners with mirth.

“I am free!” He laughed, pretending to not hear the tiny low titters flying from your mouth as you regained your strength, taking the breather as what it was. His ears twitched with every cute little giggle and he kind of wanted to immediately go back to bash every sweet, soft spot in tickles you until that beautiful laughter was ringing loud and free across the entire room and that soft, relaxed state you were in became so much common that he wouldn’t see you stressed ever again.

But he was going to wait for you to rest a tadbit first, that was the main objective of their game, afterall.

Feeling calmer, you looked at your friend, who jolted in the same place, seeing to get out of a trance. He recovered quickly and lifted his paws, easily slipping into the tickle monster persona as he slowly clawed in your direction.

“Now that my hands are free, I wonder where I should attack next…” He looked thoughtful, slowly bringing his paws closer and closer to your torso, wiggly fingers softly scrapping the ticklish skin, but not really drumming on it, not yet. “Maybe I should try your armpits first? Aw, but you were so jumpy when I squeezed your side that one time! And you seemed really excited when I mentioned tickling your ribs… Ah! So many options, so many options… We will have to try every single one of them, of course. What do you think, my giggly angel? Which one do I tickle first?”   

None! Absolutely none of them!

“None?” He tilted his head, knowing very well how cute he looked like when he did that. “But then … Oh! I see!” Dogday snapped his fingers and you were pretty sure that if this was a cartoon a lamp would appear shining right above that absolute, silly, mean, goofball. “You want me to tickle your legs!” 

What!

At your wide stare and sputtering pretenses of protests his smirk turned sharp, which didn’t quite help the anticipatory bolts of electricity that suddenly left you feeling even more ticklish than usual, trying to curl and hide your legs but feeling him dig more on your torso every time you did so. He continued. “That is why you didn’t stop kicking and squirming the entire time I was tickling your neck and tummy, right? Aww, sunshine, if you wanted my attention so much, you could’ve just asked!”

That was literally not the reason at all! Dogday!!

He hummed in an answer, turning around and easily pinning your legs by holding your ankles down, his touch so gentle that you were pretty sure that if you really wanted and struggled you could escape from it.

(And if that didn’t make everything even more endearing, you honestly didn’t know what would.)

Without wasting any more time, Dogday started squeezing the sensitive spot right above your kneecap, skillfully jumping from one leg to another unexpectedly, digging on the skin and following your leg around with no problem as a new round of kicks started once again, keeping up with the tickling. The ticklish sensations made your head spin, tingles spreading across your muscles and teasing all the nearest tickle spots, leaving them prickling in anticipation and a funny kind of energy that made every nerve of your knees crazy as more and more squeezes and pinches continued unmercifully assaulting the spot non stop. 

A sudden move and you yelped when your legs were lifted, his curious hand worming its way under your knee to lightly scratch the sensitive skin there. The touch was so incredibly fuzzy, so adoringly soft that the sudden change from the rough to light technique almost ripped a series of snickers from your throat without permission, the hilarity and urge to laugh taking over your every thought. 

Dogday continued scribbling and drawing shapes, leaving a couple of pokes here and there just so he could listen to those delightful muffled snorts.

(He would really love to listen to them more clearly, though.) 

“You really love this, don’t you, angel?” 

You barely sputtered out an answer before being obligated to clamp your mouth shut, uncontrollable laughter making your shoulders bounce as he took the chance to crawl his fingers upwards to your thigh, skittering them there for a couple of seconds before spidering them right back to under your knees, repeating the cycle for a couple of times before mirroring them on the other leg. 

“When I tickle you.” He scratched under your knee. 

“When I tease you.” He squeezed your calf.

“When I fluster you.” He swiped at the space right under your toes.

“It’s really adorable!” His paw stopped right on your sole and he pressed it, firmly enough that it didn’t tickle, still, for some reason you couldn’t stop your smile from becoming even more wobblier, the giddiness growing stronger and spreading in your every cell just like the heat that seemed to take over your face. 

“Especially because I can’t wait to hear aaaaall those cute giggles and beautiful laughter that you have trapped right there.” Suddenly, he raked his fingers up, from your heel to under the toes. A squeal filled the air. Dogday’s eyes shone, like an arrow findings the target. His fingertips curled, kneading on the skin. “That is why I have to apologize, angel, because I lied to you. That is a game that I just have to win.”

He then attacked.

It was less than a half of a piece of time, but suddenly your soles were being overcomed with scribbles, scratches and wiggling everywhere they could reach. There were digging fingers under your toes and a spidering that followed them to the pads, tweaking and scritching them all while curious pokes payed attention to the entire path of your arches, even if shouldn’t be possible for him to be tickling both places at the same time. Nevertheless, Dogday’s paw was so big that he was able to torment both of your feet at once while still holding them through all the resulting kicks those created.

And the teasing… Of course there was also the teasing.

“There we go! Oh my, oh my, look at you! You just can’t help being so adorable, now, can you? Awww, angel, you always get this… sweet expression when you are happy, so I like to call it your happy face! It’s delightful. The corner of your eyes gets all crinkly and your face gets all soft and your smile… your smile is the best part, it’s so bright! No matter the size or the time, it really feels like we have our own special rays of sun down here.”

He found a rather sensitive spot right above your heel and immediately concentrated on it with all his might, drumming and prodding there as if the salvation of this entire factory depended on making you laugh.

“That is why it was so easy to see how much you love tickles, sunshine. First when you were tickling me a few days ago and now. Since we started that game… you didn’t even ask me to stop and all while you simply never ceased looking so adorably full of joy like this! I could really spend the entire day just here, you know? Tickling you silly over and over again.”

That did it. The barrier broke. Loud peals of laughter were fished from your lips. Every sound and reaction filled the air in a frantic, unrestrained melody of mirth. 

Now, with them flying freely in the room, there were uncontrollable, hysterical giggles when Dogday decided to knead your calves up and down, those only being taken down by an unstoppable crackling, painted with one or two snorts, as his paws wiggled away to squeeze right above your kneecaps, taking his sweet, sweet time to give the ticklish skin under it a few swipes before moving away.

Finally, he let your ankles go, both paws resting on your sides, unbothered by all the squirming and protests that this simple act created, drinking in every reaction with a so fond, so tender gaze that it bordered on dotingly as you got another break.

You tried to take big gulps of air, but everytime your gazes found each other, titters grew anew, distracting you and leaving you in a constant state of a silly, giggly kind of joy.

M-Maybe he should reconsider! You laughed already, he won the game! That should be the end of this, right!

Dogday chuckled, fingers tuttering in their spot, curling and uncurling slowly, content to feel the trembling on the skin under them. 

“The end? But we just started! And you still got so much beautiful laughter trapped right here to show.” With his index finger, he highlighted his word by tapping on your belly, right in your bellybutton, ears perking at the screech this brought. “So many cute snorts and melodious shrieks that I would love to meet. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t help to let them out, huh?”

A flow of words, more unintelligible than anything, fell off your lips. A mix of pleas,  threats, high pitched giggles and some indistinguishable sounds that could only be considered a true keysmash rather than a sentence. Dogday hummed in agreement and nodded his head as if it was all a well constructed and understandable sentence.

“I knew you would eventually see my point, angel. You’re such a delight, you know, that?”

He smiled, so kindly and caring, and then he digged.

His paws, big enough to cover your entire midriff drummed non stop, squeezing the lower part of your stomach while scratching everywhere they could reach. He stayed there for a while before his wiggling fingers crawled up, scribbling and pinching your sides unmercifully. They looked for any weak spot, any lovely place that would make you snort and squirm away and latched there with pinches and kneading until your back arched, only then moving back to tickle your stomach until you went back to try to curl yourself in a ball, starting the cycle over and over again. 

You felt almost high with laughter, the thought that it tickled, it tickled so so much and more than anything ever taking over your brain in sync with the loud, high pitched squeals and belly laughter (ha- Dogday would love that pun if you could say it to him) that chased after each other. After so much teasing, every tickle seemed to be accompanied by the brush of thousand of tiny phantom feathers that still tormented your stomach even when he moved away to your ribs, carefully pressing down on the bones and quickly scribbling with so much skill that it should be illegal the actual, loud crackle such a simple action created.

Your hands flied to hold his wrists, caught between pushing them away and pulling them close and, at seeing that, the sentient toy couldn’t help but feel himself melt and snicker fondly, barely controlling the urge to shove his face back on your neck and nuzzle and nibble the daylights out of it in a pure attack of cuteness. His tail was wagging so much that it dislodged a few pillows from where they were.

“Such a good friend. Such a cute, nice friend for me. For us.” The praises fell from his mouth naturally, your companionship too focused on keeping those happy reactions to really think too much about them. “You do so much to all of us, to me, and keep going above and beyond just to accomplish what you set your mind in. You’re brave and one of the strongest humans I’ve ever known. And there is so much kindness in you that I could talk the entire day about it! You saved me, you cared and tried and sometimes down here it feels like a nightmare but you… you make everything so much better, like a true angel. That is why I love this nickname so much. It really fits you.” 

You tried to answer, to say how much especial, strong and essential Dogday was for you as well, but every time a single coherent word slipped from your lips he immediately reinforced his attack, fully aware that if you said anything sweet he would inevitably let his guard down and you would be able to turn the tables, and he really needed to say all of that to you before that. 

His tickles were now focusing on keeping up the flow of starry laughter, watching them grow up to chortles and tune down into snickers as he scribbled in between each bone, keeping track of every special spot that pried a shriek from your lungs only to randomly attack it with prodding and poking, slowly fishing all kinds of joyful sounds that you could make.

He then buried his paws in your armpits, swirling the fingertips there for a few moments before digging energetically, fingers dancing and prodding every inch they could reach, which immediately made your arms come down with a loud chortle, head shaking and legs kicking at the sensation.

How was he so good at this?

Dogday gasped dramatically (not again-) and lightly pulled his paws in faux alarm, not really stopping his attack. “Oh no! Once more, you have trapped me!” Such a goofball. Such a silly, mean goofball and you could not wait to put your wiggly hands on and see how flustered you could make him be. “Dang, I really didn’t want to resort to this but I guess that I have no other option but to keep tickling and tickling and tickling on your poor ticklish pits forever and ever until the end of our days.” He then winked when he found your shining eyes. “But you would actually love that, wouldn’t you, my giggly sunshine?”

That was it. You were going to die. Right here and there. The playful tickles, the unrelenting teasing, the fond stares and gentle words… you could actually feel your entire body about to melt.

With a strength you didn’t even realize you had, you pulled your arms up to hide your flaming face, a pitched ‘eee’ sound mixing with the hysterical, absolutely uncontrollable laughter, your body rolling to the side and curling, shoulders bouncing with the force of each of your giggles.

Dogday let go of you, giggling together with your reactions, resting his hands on the ground and just observing, amusement and care clear as water in every trace of his features.

After a while, you felt a paw lay on your back, retracting for a bit when just that made you wiggle away, a new round of chuckles spilling, before it came back to rub your shoulders, touch kind and too firm to tickle. “Okay, okay, sunshine. I’m done. You can calm down for now.”

Laying down on the floor giggling yourself silly didn’t feel so embarrassing when Dogday’s own quiet snorts and snickers were quick to accompany you, especially since the rubbing really felt relaxing, making you melt on the touch bit by bit. 

After a few minutes, when a comfortable silence had fallen on you both, you rolled on your back, finally being able to stare at your companionship without feeling like you would explode. Dogday smiled bigger at your direction. He lifted a paw to gently wipe a tear from your cheek, not thinking too much about it.

“That was so fun! I didn’t know you were so ticklish, angel. You are almost as bad as m-” He stopped right in his tracks when a gasp and a new string of titters fell like a waterfall from your mouth and you pushed his paw away, fastly rubbing your cheek so the feeling of fuzzy tickles would go away. It was like the softest makeup brush had just touched your skin, and you had no idea that just this could tickle so much.

Dohohogday! You sahaid you werehe done! 

But your companionship didn’t answer. Astonished, he stared at his paw before looking at you again, gaze jumping from one to the other like he was watching a tennis match.

Suddenly his entire face brightened like the sun and he looked at you as if you had just said the funniest, most brilliant pun he had ever heard in his entire life.

“Aaaangel!” Every letter was bathed in pure, disbelieved delight.

No! You knew very well what that tune meant! No way! Nononono! Don’t you dare!

“Are your cheeks…”

Dohohogday! Don’t you come closer!

“Ticklish?”

Before you could push yourself from the mattress and jump away, there were two thumbs softly scratching on your cheeks, scribbling so lightly that it immediately made a giant smile take over your expression. Titters started to fill the air once more.

“Oh my… angel! This is adorable!” Dogday looked like he was about to bounce around the room with how much excited he was, his voice getting higher and glitching in excitement. “I can’t believe how fun and cute… You just… Ah, sunshine, I can’t help but!”

And before you could even blink, he shoved his smiley, stupidly fuzzy face right on your neck again, nuzzling there without a single worry in the world. His fingers kept  tickling your cheeks, sometimes even slipping to tease the back of your ears with a few scratches as he giggled in joy since he could literally feel the rumbling of your snickers. They twirled and spun in the air for much minutes more until his tickly attack from cuteness overload was finally finished and you both just kept layed down on the comfy pile, cuddling in between content sighs.

Dogday listened to your calm breath, saw how relaxed your entire body was and, according to the few sneaky peaks he had, saw that happy, full of mirth, smile was still in your face, leaving him melting in contentment, entire body relaxing as well. 

Perfect. His plan had worked.

Not that it was that big of a deal, but it had been such a long time since he had the opportunity to…

He was just glad that it worked. That he still got it in him. 

(Being playful. Happy. Helping the others. Being there when they needed him. Matter when it was necessary. Being silly and fun)

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t sense the hand coming until it laid on his head, playing with the fur there and scratching on that place right behind his left ear that never failed to make him embarrassingly become a mush of pleased hums and wagging tail. A low, sleepy voice crossed the air.

You said you would take him out of here. It’s a promise, Dogday.

How his angel knew exactly what to say was a mystery to him. And, it didn’t quite hurt, but his entire being ached at those words. His smile was sad and he was glad that the human couldn’t see as he blinked quickly, eyes suddenly moisty. “Alright.”

There would still be some revenge when you woke up, though. Be ready.

And that reminded him so much of others playful, sleepy conversations he had before everything happened that it ripped a surprised laugh from him. He tried to look up to see the very much likely mischievous glint in his friend’s eyes, but a few more purposeful scratches turned him right back to a content puddle. He nuzzled the human a bit more. “Sleep well, angel.”

You too, Dogday.

(And sleep well they did. Lost in a peaceful rest as the entire world outside left them be.)

[~*~]

Random fun facts!

-There is a parallel I made by mistake between CatNap and DogDay and the whole 'trusting and following the being that saved your life'. It's not too deep and Dogday isn't as bad as Catnap but that was an interesting thing I noticed :D

-Different from the reader, Dogday is more used to the time down there so he has a good grasp when day and nights happens in general.

-I am actively ignoring the plotholes here about food and water here. Ya know when you have to poke holes in a lid so the bugs in the container can breathe that is what I doing kjhgfdfghyhgfd

-Nothing to do with the fanfic but I kept listening to this song when I was writing it and I think it's cute.

[carulenes]

I have so many scattered thoughts re: Blade, Jingliu, and Dan Heng and the entirety of the HCQ after Clouds Leave No Trace

This is gonna probably be long as hell since I haven’t stopped thinking abt it for two days straight and will contain spoilers for the new HCQ quest in 1.4 as well as references to other leaks, this is mostly just a jumble of a bunch of theories and ramblings to get my thoughts out, some of which I already had and others that started to jump out during the quest. obv other ppl may have come up with similar conclusions and i obv might not be right myself but based on the narrative presented to us up until now, these are what I feel make the most sense. TLDR at the end.

Dan Heng vs “running away”

I find it fascinating, and frankly disingenuous, that that both Jingliu and Blade consistently frame DH’s explanations of no longer being Dan Feng and only containing fragments of his memories as "trying to run from his past". I’ve also seen some in the fandom claim that DH’s position on the matter shouldn’t be trusted as he’s an “unreliable narrator”, which could be true, but it’s a stance I disagree with as it goes against the structure of DH’s narrative as it’s been set up since the beginning of the game.

From day one until the present, Dan Heng is shown to be fully willing to atone for the sins of his past:

The moment he was allowed to move freely aboard the Luofu after having quietly accepted exile for crimes he shouldn’t have had to pay for, he decided of his own volition to seek out the current high elder and make amends with both the Xianzhou and his past in general, even when doing so made him a target for even more suffering:

Narratively speaking, he never once backs away from the punishment considered owed to Dan Feng's actions.

Dan Heng, the result of a forced rebirth process that was then manipulated to leave him with combat prowess and broken memories he neither wanted or should have possessed to begin with, was escorted away from the only homeland he knew, after being held in prison for crimes he legally should not have been judged by from the moment of his birth, with only the few possessions his previous incarnation had possessed, forced to jump from spaceship to spaceship without even recognizing the destination. The only reason he ever ran at all is due to the ages spent fighting for his life against an enemy he didn't recognize and never truly recognized him, one that refused to die no matter how many times they fought. One who caused unmatched destruction in his hunt for Dan Heng, fully willing to destroy anyone and anything in the way of his goal— a shadow of his past:

This is why personally (emphasis on personally) I believe that the longing in question from the leak regarding Dan Heng polishing his spear is in reference to the Luofu, as to me, it makes sense that he would long for and think of the homeland he never got to witness thoroughly with his own eyes and could only experience in books while caring for the weapon he uses to keep himself and others safe from the force of destruction that trails him:

In fact, it isn't until after Dan Heng joins the Astral Express that he begins to fight back against the assertion that he must eternally suffer for the past; this is because this is when he finally has something other than himself to protect. We are directly shown this in his animated short, when the memory of the other members of the Express crew serve as the motivation to spur Dan Heng out of the internal conflict he was drowning in, and also as his prime reason for going to meet with the others in the HCQ aboard the Luofu:

This is likely possible largely due both to the fact that Vidyadhara cannot succumb to mara, as well as the fact that he doesn't have the same specific memories as the others, and so he is not shackled to the same chains that now bind Blade and Jingliu.

———

Blade and Jingliu

In Blade’s youth, Jingliu describes him as someone who was “defiant” in a way she claimed not to like. I find this fascinating given that the two are so incredibly similar at present, which I feel is due in part to Blade’s unwavering respect for her even after the pain she caused him, both because of who she is as the former Sword Champion and the amount of Abundance abominations she alone had been able to slay, as well as the pain she inflicted giving him new purpose, a choice to give him a “second chance” despite at one point having wished to leave him to his misery as a fate worse than death, as described in her character story.

Both Blade and Jingliu experienced great suffering in their childhoods

Blade's swordsmanship ability comes directly from Jingliu’s tutelage

His personal oath comes directly from Jingliu, as she forced it into his psyche over and over through death and rebirth in order to force him to remember:

They both took on deals through which they are able to have access to suppression for their mara:

And both are fighting towards goals that are implied to, at least currently, be impossible (following who I believe to be extremely suspicious individuals):

Also, both are equally stubborn, seen both through their refusal to take no as an answer to Dan Heng's wishes to no longer associate with them and through their refusal to listen to anything that may trigger or directly refute their perceptions of reality:

But most importantly:

Blade and Jingliu both became mara-struck very quickly after Baiheng’s death.

It's repeatedly mentioned that mara is linked to to the artificially stretched lifespans of Xianzhou natives, but also that a fundamental aspect of the affliction is tied to the accumulation of painful memories. Given that vast scope of the destruction that occurred during this bane, and the extreme closeness both Jingliu and Blade had to the deceased and beloved Baiheng (in addition to the trauma of being transmuted into another species entirely, in Blade's case), it's no surprise that both of them are affected so deeply. Additionally, a common treatment for mara is avoiding accessing painful memories or suppressing/removing them entirely.

As Blade himself states that the effects of mara affliction are unique to the individual, I can't make a sweeping judgement of the symptoms all the mara-struck; the specific manifestations of Jingliu and Blade's afflictions, however, can be related to the concept of complicated grief:

We see these symptoms heavily within Jingliu, who literally wears a blindfold to avoid seeing anything that can trigger painful memories, has a voiceline describing how she can't remember many details of the time she and Baiheng spent together, speaks how she's plagued with nightmares about Baiheng, and she refuses to not only prohibit herself from forgetting the pain of what happened to her that day, but also the remaining members of the HCQ.

Similar observations can be made for Blade; he notably speaks very little and withdraws from most social situations, not wanting to take part in “annoying conversations.” His particular form of mara affliction is, by his own admission, unusual and devoid of any real emotion. The few moments of reprieve are spent either thinking too much or not thinking of anything at all. When his mara strikes, though, he shuts down, going completely numb and lashing out at whatever's in his way- not unlike certain displays of trauma responses in real life. He asks directly, “Why does someone like her have to be buried, burned to ash, and eventually forgotten...? Why!?” And given Yingxing being quoted saying directly during this quest that he doesn't wish for an overly long life, and Blade's intense suicidal ideations in the present, it's not a far reach to suggest that he also wishes that he died with her or in her stead.

And both are unable to find purpose in a life without her:

Blade and Jingliu both accuse Dan Heng of being unwilling to accept the past, but both of them are quite literally and physically unable to do so themselves— Dan Heng was even the only one to have spent extended time in the Shackling Prison, even though he should not have had to due to his rebirth, while both Blade and Jingliu were both wanted criminals who managed to escape. They both walk carrying the pain of the past through the present because they feel empty without it. And, unlike Dan Heng, neither one of them have a future that they feel can look forward to.

On that note, Jing Yuan, the only member of the HCQ who is capable of succumbing to mara and yet hasn't, is also the only member to directly acknowledge Dan Heng's autonomy and existence. This extends to Dan Feng as well, as both Blade and Jingliu most often refer to both Dan Heng and Dan Feng interchangeably with the title of Imbibitor Lunae, rather than their names.

The only ones to continue to deny Dan Heng's existence and rebirth are those who are unable to leave the past behind, such as the mirage echoes forever tied to Scalegorge Waterscape, as well as Blade and Jingliu, forever tied to their own suffering.

[Side note: This is exactly why I believe HYV decided to have 1.3 end with an entire questline based around the showing the process of accepting death and healthy grieving: to act as a direct juxtaposition to Blade and Jingliu, who both are unable to engage in the process themselves.] ————

Yingxing and Dan Feng/Blade and Dan Heng

Yingxing the Furnace Master and High Elder Dan Feng were very close. They were good friends, yes, but they were also bad for each other, according to Kafka:

Which would be easy enough on its to write off as her own interpretation of a story she’s heard but doesn’t know enough to understand. But Jingliu, the living member of the HCQ most affected by their actions, shows agreement with her assessment, pointing out that she’d found it strange “to see someone so arrogant get along with someone so proud.”

These specific traits are mentioned and attributed to them multiple times— the arrogant craftsman and the proud high elder. The reason for this is also stated by Kafka: “Together, they did something bad— something terrible. It led to horrific consequences.”

The emphasis that they did it together, almost directly after stating that the pair were bad for one another (which was a conscious choice to have her say, as her statements of their shared mistake and Blade's memory loss would have sufficed on their own), is important not simply because they both made and adhered to the plan; it’s important because it implies that it was directly because it took the two of them specifically to create the chaos and unrest that took place and not anyone else. This isn’t a condemnation of either of them as individuals, but Jingliu herself points out that even the smartest people can make extremely ill-advised decisions in the heat of the moment.

If Yingxing hadn’t arrogantly believed himself alone capable of handling and utilizing the remains of the very Emanator it took a plethora of combatants including the entire HCQ to take down (likely leading to the loss in the usability of his hands as a result):

If Dan Feng hadn’t proudly believed his “salvation” more righteous than the autonomy of those mortals he sought to save, "letting" them continue living as though the right to withhold the honor of dying for a cause they believed in was his alone, while also seeming to blindly believe himself incapable of being deceived or misunderstanding something:

None of the resulting fallout would have happened.

Only one with powers like those of the High Elder of the Vidyadhara could have attempted what Dan Feng did, and only an outworlder who has experienced the allure of immortality and experienced the fear of not having enough time would be willing to assist, given the Xianzhou’s stance on acts regarding immortality.

Furnace Master and High Elder, filled with blind confidence in themselves, blind confidence in each other, enabling each other (Yingxing calling out to Dan Feng and implying that they had to be the ones to make a choice, Dan Feng being moved by his human heart’s words and his own exhaustion with watching the deaths of those around him) to make a dangerous choice at a critical moment when their close companion is in mortal peril (more accurately already dead but they couldn’t accept that), and make the decision to ignore the autonomy of everyone involved. They had no contingency plan because they were sure that, with each other, that it would work. Because of this, they both share the blame, their noble intentions not enough to outweigh their unforgivable sin.

Jing Yuan is noted to have “always understood the price better than any of [the HCQ], yet he never spoke up, never did anything”, but anyone who has had the experience of trying to tell an arrogant or prideful person that they’re wrong or making a mistake knows that that’s an uphill battle on its own. Add in that it would be two against one (one of whom he already canonically bickered with constantly throughout their companionship), asking two of the most stubborn people he knew to give up on their desire to save the beloved (for Yingxing, Baiheng; for Dan Feng, his people), the two that were closer to each other than he was with either of them (not to imply that the HCQ weren’t all very close to each other because they definitely were but in obv differing ways) right in the middle of a high stress situation where there’s no time for arguing, and what remains is Jing Yuan with no options but to watch as disaster unfolded before him and everyone else, knowing that their minds were already made up.

Yingxing never wanted to be immortal or to see Baiheng suffering, but his own hubris helped lead to both.

Dan Feng never wanted to endure the sight of meaningless death, and yet directly caused it due to his pride, believing he had the right to play god and interfere with the natural process of death, or to consider that he may be wrong.

They were good friends who were bad for each other, and good people who made an exceedingly bad decision.

In the present, it’s been over 700 years since the last meeting of the High-Cloud Quintet, meaning Yingxing and Dan Feng have been essentially dead for roughly 7x the length of the HCQ’s entire existence. Their new identities, Blade and Dan Heng are clearly meant to parallel each other, but as opposing forces going in different directions, given Blade’s unwavering desire to die, and Dan Heng’s unwavering desire to live and to protect those he cares for. Both were put through immense suffering that, in the same vein, provided the means of “freedom” for them— Blade, through the sword; Dan Heng, through banishment. And both have found new colleagues to consider allies, though even the two groups are opposed to one another.

At this point in time, they’re enemies in all respects, and the chances of any reconciliation between them in my opinion is VERY slim for multiple reasons not limited to how much time has already passed at this point:

1) Dan Heng does not trust Blade at all and actively considers him one of the biggest threats to both his own and his companions’ safety, with good reason. The only way this could feasibly change is if Blade were to stop hunting him, which likely would not happen because

2) Blade is wholly devoted to Elio’s predictions for him, which Dan Heng’s existence would be paradoxical to. One of Blade’s wishes is to kill Imbibitor Lunae specifically in revenge, and he doesn’t (or can't) accept Dan Heng’s existence; if what Dan Heng claims about his identity is true, then that could only mean the future Elio promised must be false, which would strip him of the only purpose he has left in this world, leaving him as an empty, undying husk. This matter is also complicated by the fact that

3) There is still no cure for the mara that afflicts Blade, which would be the only avenue through which Blade could even begin to consider accepting Dan Heng and potentially reconciling. Both he and Jingliu were able to discover methods of having it suppressed, but both were temporary fixes: Jingliu notes that her time is beginning to run out, and Kafka had to use alternate means to reduce the potency of the mara within Blade after it violently flared up after merely being on the Xianzhou, which is likely the only reason the meeting between the HCQ could even take place with his attendance. On top of this, there’s also the fact that

4) Blade’s feelings for Dan Feng are likely very complex as well. Deep down, there’s clearly still some fondness there in the way Blade looks back on the time spent with Dan Feng, but he’s also one of the people he deeply resents and wants to see dead, which I believe could be due to his belief that it’s Dan Feng’s fault that Baiheng died. There is a choice-dependent voiceline from Baiheng deep within Dan Heng's memories that calls out to him to save them from the starskiff, but we know that it crashed. He tried to invoke the Transmutation Arcaneum, but it failed, instead turning Baiheng into a half-dragon monstrosity whose wails of pain echoed all around them. And then, though he wasn’t the one to deal the final blow, he might as well have by giving the location of the dragon’s weak spot to Jingliu. To top everything off, everything ended with Blade within an immortal body, one that leaves him in constant pain, particularly during the healing process after “death”.

From his perspective, it’s easy to see just why Blade could place the blame of Baiheng’s burial and the near destruction of the Luofu solely on Dan Feng, accusing Dan Feng alone of being the one to stubbornly adhere to the plan; it’s also easy to point out Blade’s hypocrisy given his role as Dan Feng’s accomplice. There are multiple potential reasons for this in my opinion: his brain, afflicted by both mara and prior memory loss (though he never forgets Dan Feng’s eyes or “how cruelty burst out from beneath the mirror-like emerald calmness”); his arrogance, leading him to absolve himself of any guilt or wrongdoing because he believes himself incapable of failing; the current youth-like quality of his mind, reduced to immaturely (by which I purely mean the dictionary definition of having/showing emotional development of someone younger) craving nothing but revenge while simultaneously absolving responsibility by saying “He did it! Not me!”. Also, considering Jingliu’s dialogue to Dan Feng where she says to him “If your death can return everything to how it was, I would do it,” and the many ways Blade already emulates Jingliu, it isn’t too difficult to consider that he may have taken that duty on himself out of grief and longing.

Along with these reasons, the narrative emphasizes that even almost a millennium after Yingxing and Dan Feng’s deaths, destruction follows in their wake whenever their new lives cross paths. Dan Heng learned this quickly, hence his fervent desire to keep distance and his relative uncertainty of anywhere that could possibly be safe for him, though he also learned rather quickly that this was futile. Blade was always able to find him, entire spaceships destroyed in his unshakable desire to kill him. On the Xianzhou, not only was Dan Heng dragged into a fight with Blade, but so too was Yanqing. This cycle of destruction is implied to have been so constant for Dan Heng that it’s likely the entire reason he never feels safe or feels unable to confide in anyone so as to not risk putting them in danger.

----

The Destruction Trio

Imbibitor Lunae, Blade, and Jingliu all being on the path of destruction is no coincidence given their histories. The three “sinners” all shared a key trait: being able to cope with death and painful losses. Both Yingxing and Dan Feng viewed her as arrogant and proud, respectfully, which was another commonality between them. This leads all three of them to not only become the orchestrators of their own self-destruction, but the destruction of those around them as well: Dan Feng witnessing countless deaths and being forced to be reborn as another; Yingxing’s loss of his gift and creative abilities as well as the transformation into the immortal Blade who only sees himself as a weapon; Jingliu’s abandonment of her sacred oath and everyone she killed during her time under the influence of the mara poisoning her mind. Only Dan Heng walks a different path, as he is the only one to have directly stated that he accepts the past that happened but refuses to let it stain his bright future.

The three of them are also intrinsically linked in their pain. Dan Feng and Yingxing's mistake led directly to Jingliu's suffering; Jingliu's treatment of Blade led to his becoming a living weapon and catching the eye of the Stellaron Hunters, and also to him being able to inflict similar suffering to Dan Heng by hunting him constantly. Blade and Jingliu both are of the mind that this is inevitable and inescapable, but only Dan Heng is in a position to be able and willing to question whether he really does have to continue feeling that pain.

While it's still very early on in HSR's lifespan making it difficult to make any real concrete theories, for now I predict that Jingliu will die in her attempt to kill the Abundance, and I also believe her to be aware of this deep down, as she likely sees this as a way for her to atone and find her peace. It also makes most sense for Blade to die at some point as well, considering his parallels to Jingliu, his current character and the fact that while Yingxing used to fear not having enough time in life when he was young, he came to accept his mortality in his elder years after the full life he lived with the HCQ; it could even possibly be in defense of Dan Heng, which could provide a full-circle end to their cycle and their story, a form of closure that no other broken pair has seemed to get so far. Their respective character stories, while directly representing their current struggles, can also be viewed as allusions to their fates as well, with Blade's referring to his death and Dan Heng's highlighting him seeing the dawn of a new day. I also think it could be feasible for the discovery of a method to remove Blade's mara and for him to grow content with the Blade of today, even with powers he doesn't want, similar to Dan Heng accepting that Imbibitor Lunae's powers will always be a part of him; a "miraculous cure" sort of ending could be very clunky if not handled well in my opinion, though.

----

The Reunion

Though it's phrased in a metaphorical way, I feel pretty sure that not only did we just see the reunion alluded to by the PoWC bracer, but also that this is another remnant of Jingliu’s influence that some part of Blade’s subconscious must have clung to:

Note the usage of “should”, a term with many meanings but the most applicable being “expressing a conjecture or hope,” rather than something like “will”, which would indicate future tense or an inevitable event.

Jingliu’s splash art alone shows her pouring out a cup of alcohol

In Jingliu’s character story, Baiheng is said to have brought Jingliu “divine nectar from the other side of the universe”

At the beginning of the companion quest, in the Seat of Divine Foresight, she mentions wanting to have a glass of wine and reminisce with old friends

She is the one to bring the jade flask that Blade handcrafted himself for her when she releases the starskiff in her memory

When the remaining quartet reach Scalegorge Waterscape, she directly mentions that she never believed the 4 of them, with their many grudges and all friendship lost, would gather again and specifically quantifies the hundreds of years that have passed

She does this twice more, mentioning the seven centuries and how they all did this 700 hundred years ago

She is the one to point out that, in the past, they all promised to meet together again for a drink no matter what happened

She says that she believed “those joyful days would flow indefinitely before us” which also fits within the imagery of drinking

There are multiple visual nods to drinking in her flashbacks as well: there’s the quintet having a toast, as well as Jingliu pouring out the alcohol once again while Yingxing sips off to the side, which symbolically is a good representation of the way she poured so much of herself into Blade (whether intentionally or unintentionally) that so much of him resembles her now, down to the bow on the back of his clothes (and even their similar splash arts). There’s also a glimpse of Yingxing and Jing Yuan drinking together. Because both of them were children when they each met Jingliu for the first time, it makes sense that Jingliu and the others were likely the ones to teach the pair to drink once they each came of age.

Jingliu mentions that they will likely never all meet again, and bids farewell to the HCQ.

Finally, at the very end of the quest, she directly says:

Blade mentions alcohol only once, when he says, "The miraculous thing is that in my brief moment of death... all the pain went away... like when we drank to drown our sorrows." In Jingliu's case, we know that she was affected in much the same way as Blade, becoming more confident and boastful under the effects of drinking, mentioning that the nightmares and pain from her childhood memories were no longer so terrifying. For both of them, alcohol is another form of suppression of pain, not unlike substance abuse seen in real life, which grieving individuals are at higher risk of falling victim to.

While it’s possible this wasn’t the reunion that alluded to and they could technically all reunite once more in the future, the sheer number of references to the contents of the backstory mentioned in the bracer lead me to believe that this isn’t the case, as well as Jingliu stating herself that this would likely be their final meeting before she pays her own ultimate price. Not to mention the fact that very specific circumstances had to be in play for Jingliu/Luocha, the Stellaron Hunters, and the Astral Express to all end up on Jing Yuan’s doorstep at the same time. Specificity like that is rarely duplicated, particularly in HSR’s canon, which features many characters with formerly close bonds being separated for whatever reason with no closure to their relationship. The four of them even getting one reunion was a blessing in itself, even though none of them felt particularly happy about it afterwards.

TLDR: Dan Heng is accused of running from his past, but he is the only one of the three "sinners" capable and willing to do so; Jingliu and Blade are heavy parallels of each other and share the same pains of complicated grief; Yingxing and Dan Feng together (and Blade and Dan Heng by association) bring out the worst in each other and represent a cycle of destruction that neither of them are currently able to escape from; the reunion mentioned by the bracer was likely Jingliu's idea that Blade also began to internalize and we likely just watched it occur; Dan Feng, Blade, and Jingliu were all incapable of handling death and loss and this inability is what lead to the three of them causing so much pain and destruction for themselves, each other, and everyone around them.

[aihoshiino]

chapter 161 thoughts

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Entirely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 18

Aqua Hoshigan Status: For the future

Never has an OnK chapter gone from It's Hoshinover to We Are Oshi no Back quite as hard and fast as this one. I have issues with this chapter in terms of what it implies about the story's overall structure and the fact that it sort of ruins 153-4 by association but this chapter's back half is so fucking good and the chapter itself works so well in isolation that much like 153-4, I kind of uhhh don't care about the structural issues because the story's heart is, for the most part, not just intact but beating harder and more passionately than it has in a long time.

To get what I don't like out of the way, the story seems to have settled on Super Evil Serial Killer Mastermind Kamiki as his final form characterization with some helpful Tsukuyomi exposition to just straightforwardly Tell Us things the manga probably should have spent some of the last 70something chapters Showing Us about Hikaru. The basic idea of Hikaru being some sort of serial killer so dedicated to upholding Ai's legacy that he kills women with the potential to surpass her was more or less always where I expected his character to land and this settling of his character does at least preserve what I think is the most important thing: that he genuinely loved Ai and his bent towards villainy only came after her death.

What I don't love as much is that this chapter seems to continue leaning into Uber God Manipulator Mastermind Kamiki like last chapter. I already talked at length about my issues with this framing in my previous chapter review so all I'll reiterate here is that the story's attempt to frame Hikaru as being equally or even more culpable for the actions of Nino and Ryosuke fall entirely flat to me, especially when the manga itself does such a pisspoor job of actually explaining how or why Kamiki was able to control and/or predict their actions to the extent that he supposedly did. And ESPECIALLY especially given that Nino and Ryosuke seem to have already been dangerously obsessed with Ai by the time they approached him.

In general, Hikaru's character is honestly just so inconsistent at this point that making any sense of his actions feels fruitless. If I really dig into what's going on, I can infer that maybe he fell into the same trap as Aqua by overcompensating for his trauma-induced helplessness by becoming overly controlling and guess that his fucked up trauma response to Ai's death combined with those terrible words Kindaichi gave him at Airi's funeral lead him down he road he's traveling now. I can even extrapolate that Aqua showing him the DVD message in 153-4 pushed Hikaru to this extreme and now that he has nothing to lose, he's lashing out at his children too - though, it should be noted, that the manga still hasn't actually established what Hikaru's culpability is in Nino's attempt on Ruby's life, outside of Aqua saying "well you didn't use your psychic powers to perfectly predict nino's actions so it's on you".

But like - this is all stuff I'm having to infer and extrapolate and guess, reverse engineering logic from our end point in an attempt to create a stable foundation for this characterization. The manga has done such a poor job of properly establishing Hikaru both as an antagonistic force and as a consistent character that I feel like I'm trying to assemble a coherent image from two different puzzle sets with all the fucking corner pieces missing and that's with Crow Girl looking into the camera and Explaining Him to me.

And listen, I am a bitch who LOVES to infer things. One of my absolute favourite pieces of fiction of all time ever is Umineko no Naku Koro Ni, a mystery story that literally does not contain any straightforwardly explicit, textual confirmation of the culprit's identity or motives because it believes so strongly that you, the reader, are smart enough and empathetic enough to put in the time and effort necessary to understand it regardless and it deeply, deeply values being able to give you that experience. But OnK feels less like it's intentionally encouraging me to think hard and enjoy the process of putting my head and my heart to work - it feels like it's leaving its homework unfinished and letting the reader do the actual hard work of sewing up the internal logic.

I probably won't talk much more about Kamiki this chapter cos I'd just be saying all this shit over and over but I really just am struggling to understand from a perspective of authorial intent what the vibe is even supposed to be. Like I mentioned in a previous ask, if this is where Kamiki's arc is reaching its conclusion then it means that the Movie Arc was essentially a whole-ass waste of time in and out of universe. Blech. Hate that.

Also, before I move on, I don't want to leave this just implied - making Kamiki explicitly a CSA victim and then ending his arc on Aqua (and implicitly the narrative) dismissing him as being too broken/corrupted to be saved is a really major misstep that I think represents a huge black mark on OnK's handling of CSA as a topic. The idea of an eternal defilement or an unfixable core wrongness in the self is already something real life CSA victims struggle with in the process of unpacking their trauma and having our likable and supposedly morally superior protagonist espouse this unchallenged in a work as prominent and relevant as Oshi no Ko is irresponsible bordering on dangerous. It's incredibly disappointing that after all the care Aka and Mengo seemingly took in handling this topic that it was whiffed so badly at the last second.

ANYWAY!!! Now all the beef's been dealt with, we can cleanse our palettes and move onto everything else I liked which was… basically everything else in this chapter!

Admittedly, Aqua's overall arc is still suffering from us being kicked out of his head from like 123 onwards for no real apparent reason and while 150 was a welcome refresher on where he's at in this part of the story, it still feels a bit like the story is prioritizing preserving the surprise factor of its twists over making these surprises feel earned. Compare it to volume 1 - you are basically told exactly what is going to happen to Ai, especially in the manga when Saitou and Gotanda outright say as much - but her death is still incredibly impactful and upsetting. I think this chapter is very effective, but could've been a lot moreso if we'd spent more time in Aqua's head leading up to it.

THAT SAID… If the intention of keeping us out of his head was to recontextualize Aqua's behaviour across the past ten or so chapters in this new light, I don't hate it as much as I might have. I initially took issue with what felt like the story off-screening and not addressing the resolution to Aqua's suicidal ideation so whipping back around to prove that it was still very much present puts some particular Aqua moments over this past volume into a very different light. As some people pointed out, Aqua missing Kana's pitch - literally dropping the ball in responding to her feelings - and his wide-eyed look of alarm in 151 seemed very ominous omens for the success of her confession and that beat of him covering his face when Kana approves of his dream… very incheresting knowing Aqua was still struggling with 'love or revenge' at this point.

Most interesting of all to reconsider is Aqua breaking down in tears in Miyako's arms in 155 when she addresses him as her son for the first time. At the time it read like catharsis but now I can't help but wonder if this was Aqua grieving for something he desperately wants but thinks is out of his reach.

i do have to say though. i get the general vibe of this plan and think it works fine as the apex of aqua's self-sacrificial protectiveness for the people he loves but how is being the daughter of a serial killer somehow any less scandalous for her career than being the sister of someone who killed one dude. does aqua think they just won't notice that kamiki happens to be their biodad or something. wasn't that the whole point of the movie. goofy ass plan.

What really saves this whole scenario is the emotions at play, though. This really does feel like Aqua at his most Aqua in a really long while and this chapter has so much love and respect for his life as Aqua and the bonds he has formed as a result. The dreams Aqua lays out are so agonizingly simple, too - he wants to pursue the career he finds rewarding. He wants to date the girl he likes. He wants to accept Miyako as his mom and Himekawa as his brother and to make things right with Akane after hurting and using her. He wants to see Ruby achieve her dream and be there to support her when she does.

But Aqua's always considered his dreams impossible, hasn't he?

I fully admit; I got spoiled with the full page spread of Aqua stabbing himself way in advance of the chapter and initially hated it as a twist. But with the full chapter as context and the sheer weight of Aqua's longing to just fucking live and find joy, it's not just effective but absolutely gutwrenching. It is the synthesis of Aqua's series-long battle to choose love or revenge and it resonates perfectly because it has never been one or the other for him - Aqua's revenge has always been rooted in the fact that he loves others so wholly and completely and hates himself so utterly that he thinks sacrificing himself to preserve their futures is the only path for him to take. It's the culmination and final release of the suicidal ideation Aqua has been dealing with since he was four years old and like Ai's tragedy before him, there's a horrible sense that maybe there really was no other way this could've gone.

Aqua being the character who actually takes the knife also firmly cements him as Ai's narrative echo in the text which has me barkin and howlin because it's what I've been saying all this time. Not just that, but so many of Aqua's expressions in this chapter pointedly and deliberately echo Ai's after she was stabbed. Not just that, but Aqua's achingly simple dreams echo Ai's own heartrendingly simple regrets - all the two of them ever wanted was to be happy with the people they love.

This also reframes the story's prior establishment of Ruby as paralleling Ai and seems to place the twins in the position of echoing not Ai in her entirety but Ruby as 'Ai of B-Komachi' and Aqua as 'Ai Hoshino'. This was actually something I outlined in one of my very first meta posts on the series, but I think making it more specific to 'Ruby as Ai the idol' and 'Aqua as Ai the human', this actually gives Ruby's arc in relation to Ai a bit of breathing room. Don't get me wrong, everything I've said about her post-BH writing being underbaked and inconsistent is still the case, especially when it comes to how confused the story is on whether Ruby is her own idol or New And Improved Ai 2.0 but giving it less ground to cover helps in terms of her writing no longer being spread quite as thin.

Speaking of Ruby, that beat of her seeming to react or sense something is up the moment Aqua takes the stab. 'Something happened to my loved one far away and I just Feel It' is a trope I'm always a sucker for and I really dig it here.

"The public don't care about the truth, so let's tell them a lie" is such a crazy hard sentiment to go out on too. Holy fuck.

There go our boys…!!! Quite a few people predicted they might go over the edge when Aqua showed up in his Mephisto fit (Mefitsto) and I'm interested to see if we get any parallels to the ED's imagery in the next few chapters. Overall, though, I'm really excited for where things are going - I don't think Aqua will die, but I do have some theories about what might happen. I can't think of a more traditional misogi purification experience than the middle of the ocean in late December, after all…

No break next week! Woohoo! While the delay of episode 12 means we won't be getting them on the same day, that is the same week S2 of the anime will be concluding and Aka does like lining up his bombshells with the anime. So who knows what we'll see.

seriously tho aqua. everyone already knows kamiki is you and ruby's biodad. HOW IS THIS ANY BETTER THAN HER BEING THE DAUGHTER OF A SERIAL KILLER AS IT ALREADY STANDS

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 53 (Detective Gordon's New Precinct)

While work kept Heather busy, Conrad spent his days learning the ropes at his new precinct in Brindleton Bay, where crime was less organized and the cells full of mostly petty criminals. Smuggling could be a problem at the docks from time to time, but they never stayed in port long to avoid getting caught, and never added much intrigue or danger to the town.

Gord couldn't join him when he spent his days on patrol, but this only motivated ambitious Conrad to prove himself even more.

He liked the sleepier lifestyle, the less dangerous crime scenes, and the supply of NesbeetsLT faux meat sandwiches in the break room vending machine. But he didn’t love leaving his beloved partner at home with the cats. None of his human partners could sniff out a suspect the way Gord could!

Conrad had better instincts than most of the detectives at his new precinct, and they invited him along to learn the ropes after a local barfight ended in a robbery. But rather than learn the ropes, Conrad solved the case. As a reward they let him process the booking - and all the paperwork, too!

He didn't mind. He was happy to show them how good he was. The guilty sim asked how he knew it was her while he took her fingerprints, and Conrad smiled.

"I followed the clues. You just left more behind than you thought."

He quickly proved himself worthy of several promotions until he was back to being a detective again, just like he’d been in San Myshuno. He was thrilled to have proven himself in less than six months. And now he could bring Gord on the job with him again.

And Gord was thrilled to be back inside a police station, ready to sniff out the next bad guy just like he used to do in the city.

"Okay, Gord, like we talked about, just be cool," Conrad pressed. "Stay calm."

Gord turned up his chin and gave an affirmative ruff.

Inside, the other detectives were happy to meet their new "deputy" Gord. Brindleton Bay was a pet-loving town, and it seemed silly there'd been no canines on the local force until now!

Gord leapt into the arms of Josephine, Conrad's human partner.

"I'm so sorry. He does this a lot more than he should." Gord barked as Conrad shot him a sideways glance.

"It's fine!" said Josephine with a laugh. "I think I'll like having him around."

After Conrad grabbed some lunch and put in a workout in the gym upstairs, he came back down to find Gord at Josephine's feet in the chief's office. "Gordon, you've got a great dog. If I'd have been in charge then, I'd have let you take him out with you when you first got here," said the chief.

Josephine smiled. "I'm supposed to retire in a year, but I could stick around for Gord alone. Where did you find this one?"

"We busted the puppy mill where was born back in the city. But honestly, Gord found me. My first partner named him when he followed me back to the cruiser. He passed K-9 training with flying colours, and he's been my partner against crime ever since."

Gord barked happily, rubbing his head against Conrad's pressed pant leg. Josephine pulled out her phone. "Can I take a picture to send my grandson? He just loves dogs!"

One evening, Conrad and Gord returned from work to find the cats playfully stalking the chickens in the yard. Heather hadn't asked him to pick up Ash on his way home, but for that he'd expected to see them both when he walked in.

"Heather?"

He set down his keys, but only the cats came running.

The house was eerily quiet. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

I hadn't figured out how to get Gord to the precinct and @deardiaryts4 just casually said "I guess you'll have to pose him there without a mod" and it melted my brain. Like I had never heard of or done this before in my life, but it opened up a whole new world of sim storytelling and poses for me and I'm so excited!! Thank you so much for the advice so I could at least pose Gord at work!

[petit-etoile]

I just read your story "in the moonlight" and I am absolutely impressed and astonished on how well written it is :DD I wanted to request an astarion/tav fic, with tav being half elf and their relationship having a bit of a rocky start, sort of enemies to friends to lovers sort of thing. The two slowly developing feelings but unsure of what exactly they are. i just love the idea of how different Tav is to Astarion, they're more open to speak how they feel or be more truthful than him, and even though they didn't like each other at first (Tav finding him a bit of a creep after the first bite thing) but their development and getting to understand Astarion, made them slowly develop those feelings. Astarion being conflicted himself, as the two try to make it work despite being opposites, yet able to connect, whether it be playful banter to one another or general teasing. The two are just, almost inseparable.

give me true love & understanding

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 4761 content warnings: no in-depth descriptions, but mentions of astarion's life with cazador. could be considered hurt/comfort, but more focused on making emotional connections. no in-depth descriptions, but volo & ethel & omeluum's attempts at curing the parasite are mentioned. other tags: canon compliant, enemies to lovers, developing relationship, love confessions, getting together, astarion is bad at feelings, gender neutral & half-elf!tav archiveofourown: here. tag list: @azrielshadows1nger summary: You and Astarion find yourselves arguing nearly nose to nose in the depths of the Underdark over Barcus Wroot’s request, and while he gets so angry you think he might leave the party for good, he ventures off to hunt instead.

　　　　　𝐈. ﹕previous fic　　　　𝐈𝐈. ﹕next

You and Astarion get off to a bad start.

A terrible start if you’re feeling honest. It’s hard to genuinely forgive someone for holding a knife to your throat before accusing you of working with the creatures who are the reason you’ll turn into monsters, but for the sake of your future and for the sake of a cure, you forgive Astarion because you have to.

You bicker with him unlike anyone else you’ve ever encountered before. Before, you could have counted one hand how many times you’ve had to negotiate with your own nieces and nephews, but now it would take both of your hands and Shadowheart’s hands to count every argument you’ve had with Astarion since meeting him amongst the wreckage.

The night before you’re to venture into the goblin camp to rescue the druid Halsin, the fine lining of your temper has snapped and you and Astarion are standing in the middle of camp shouting at one another while your other companions politely try to look the other way.

With the exception of Lae’zel, almost every single one of them has agreed that finding Halsin is the best plan after Nettie’s botched attempt to help you. The Githyanki Creche is next, but for every day you’ve spent trying to find someone who could cure you of this wretched parasite, all of the signs have ended up pointing to the druid leader.

You thought you could ignore Astarion at first, but he and Lae’zel have been making snide comments all evening, and you’ve had enough. You drop the sword that you’re holding and turn on him, and the rest of whatever you’re saying becomes a blur

‘I didn’t want to help them,’ Astarion reminds you forcefully. ‘I said we should turn around and leave!’

‘We have no choice if we don’t want to turn into mindflayers,’ you snap.

‘Everyone always says oh, don’t worry, there’s another cure out there,’ Astarion mimes in a high pitched voice, hands raised to enunciate his words. ‘We visited the wood’s witch and she had no cure, and we visited the other druid  —  ’

‘And now we’re visiting another druid,’ you say as politely as you can manage, teeth grinding as you try to reign in your anger. ‘One with more experience. One with history in illithid parasites.’

Your voices raise higher and higher as you begin shouting at one another. Astarion offers no other suggestions or ideas to counter your decision, and while you’re desperately trying to be mindful of the fact everyone is afraid about what could happen once your time runs out, you don’t really have time for any of these selfish antics that keep you from remaining a cohesive team. Eventually Wyll steps in to alleviate the situation. It pisses Astarion off more. He marches off to his tent for the rest of the evening to sulk.

But in the morning when everyone is dragging on their armor and making sure their blades are sharpened, you watch as Astarion quietly sorts through his poisons and all of his different knives. When it’s time to begin the infiltration, he says nothing to anyone and does as requested whether it’s opening doors or chests. It’s a bloody, tough, exhausting fight and the only reprieve is the brief, strange laugh he gives after watching you entertain the Priest of Loviatar’s desires. You give him the knife you stole from Abdirak as an apology. Like all things too good to be true, it fixes nothing. You and Astarion find yourselves arguing nearly nose to nose in the depths of the Underdark over Barcus Wroot’s request, and while he gets so angry you think he might leave the party for good, he ventures off to hunt instead.

You aren’t really sure what your relationship with Astarion is. You have given him your blood and your body against all of your instincts telling you not to, and sometimes it almost feels like you’re beginning to see eye-to-eye on topics you would have fought over before. The good moments are almost so sweet they are sour  —  when Astarion reads you excerpts from novels you pick up or you mock an Absolute cultist who had attempted to be all-powerful and intimidating to the point where he’s doubled over in hysterical laughter. Yet, the moments where you argue are so polarizing that it can be hard to tell whether he enjoys your presence or not. It’s hard not to stress about it.

Gale had asked you once during one of your Weave lessons. You had made the prettiest of sparkles in the air and watched as they rained down, and your first thought was not of how incredible the magic was, but if Astarion would delight at the sight if you showed him.

Gale asked, without a hint or a trace of animosity, ‘Why him?’

You replied, ‘I think I’m hoping that it could be enough. If I could show him enough of the good in this world, maybe he would stop being so angry. I think we all deserve happiness.’

Gale hummed and nodded his head. He rubbed his beard for a few minutes before saying, ‘Try this.’ You learned a simple incantation that was just as flashy, but more contained. You learned to make a lotus flower made of stars in your palms, and when you brought it to your nose, it smelled faintly of stardust and divinity. Gale sent you on your way with a proud, if not slightly melancholic, smile.

You don’t even have the time to show Astarion before it all goes to shit. Something like black jealousy has brewed in Astarion’s gaze, and when the smile slowly slides from your lips, it seems as if that makes it worse. Astarion looks away from you sharply and clenches his fists. Like part of him reveled in making you just as angry as he felt. He brings up Philomeen discarding her love as though it were nothing, as if it’s your fault she is a liar.

Astarion broods and lashes out, and with the coldest realization that slides down your spine, you realize it has nothing to do with you or the decisions you’ve made. He’s hurting as if from a broken bone or a broken heart. His mouth is pressed into an angry line. His eyes snap back and forth as if he’s waiting for someone terrible to appear. Astarion is scared, and there’s nothing you can do that can help him. You offered him safety once. He refused.

‘Why are you so mad at me?’ you blurt out.

The question takes Astarion off-guard. His mouth pops open almost audibly, and he furrows his brows in such confusion you’re forced to wonder if he’s even realized he was being cruel to you.

‘Well, I  —  ’ he begins as if to defend himself before sputtering out, ‘It isn’t  —  It isn’t you.’

‘Oh, really?’ you ask, letting a little venom leak into your voice. ‘It isn’t me?’

Astarion scowls. You’ve ruined whatever argument he was trying to make. You expect him to spit out something completely acidic, to take away from what you’ve said, but instead he pivots and begins to stalk towards one of the cliffs underground.

Normally, you would let him go. You would give him time to clear his head while you sorted out your wounded pride. You’ve given him plenty of time to think about what is bothering him and it’s never worked before, so this time you follow.

‘No,’ you insist. ‘You don’t get to walk away.’

‘I want some time to think  —  ’

You grab his wrist as it swings back and cling to him. You feel rather silly about it and he turns around on you with wide, wild eyes. You’re almost entirely sure you’ve made a mistake.

The only thing that you can comprehend is the utter force at which Astarion crushes you against his chest. It’s as if he’s never hugged someone before. It’s uncomfortable and he’s holding you so awkwardly you can’t wrap your arms back around him. It’s like Bernard’s hug all over again. Astarion clings to you so tightly he might as well be cradling you. He pushes his face into your hair while he tries to soothe his own breathing, and you finally manage to pat him sympathetically on his lower back. It’s the only place you can reach.

Faintly, like the touch of a feather, you think he kisses the top of your head.

‘I  —  I’m sorry,’ he says quietly. ‘You’re right. Of course you’re right. You’re you.’

You can feel Astarion’s entire body sag with relief. You’re confused, but this is the kindest he’s been since you stepped into the Underdark, and his arms are intense and strong. I’s more comforting than the first time he grabbed you like this near the nautiloid wreckage. There’s no knife or hollow threats. You turn your head to the side and sniffle.

‘It isn’t you I’m upset with,’ Astarion confesses. ‘Not entirely, you see. I never wanted to say anything  —  You know that more than anyone, how closely I guard my secrets. You have to believe me.’

‘I do,’ you say. ‘All I want is to understand.’

‘For the longest time, I didn’t want to give you the honor of understanding,’ Astarion says. ‘You were chivalric like a storybook hero. The ones who always save the damsels in distress. I hate people like them.’

‘You’re mad because…I’m good?’

Astarion sighs. ‘I’m disappointed, more or less. That all the times I screamed and begged and wished someone would save me, there was no storybook hero listening to me.’

The blood in your veins turns to ice. You hiccup and your face turns hot, and no matter how hard you clench your fists to your side, you can’t stifle the awkward sob that slides right out of your mouth. Astarion only holds you closer. You try to flip it on him so that you’re the one holding him, but he doesn’t let you. At least not yet. You sniffle again, louder this time.

‘I wanted someone to help me the way you helped the tieflings,’ he says, voice strained. ‘I wanted someone to worry for me the way Laridda worried for Philomeen.’

‘I do,’ you say. Your voice sounds small even to you. ‘I worry about you like that.’

Astarion eventually releases you and you both walk further away from your allies as they sort through their gear. You sit a few feet from where you killed the mimcs and stare off into the distance at the strange temple across the chasm.

You bump your knee against his soothingly. All the fighting is a little tiring. Your throat is sore for a number of reasons, and it doesn’t help that it’s so unfortunately hot. You’re so close to the forge that the heat is sapping your energy. Astarion uses his sleeve to dab at the tears on your cheek and you let him wipe at your skin and the dirt on it just so you can feel his touch.

‘I apologize,’ Astarion says, ‘for the way I was behaving.’

‘It’s okay,’ you say. You tap the tip of your boots together. ‘I suppose it makes sense when I think about it.’

Astarion rolls his eyes. ‘Even if it “makes sense,” I was still behaving abhorrently. It was uncalled for.’

‘I get why  —  ’

‘Please, darling,’ Astarion says in a strained voice. ‘Just consider accepting my apology. I do not give them often, you know. You’re the only one I’ll apologize to for being this way.’

You immediately start to go into some grandiose speech about how it’s the power of forgiveness that matters most during times like this, but there’s something sincere about the way Astarion is watching you that makes the words die in the back of your throat. You smooth your chainmail nervously.

There.

A funny little feeling comes again. A silly, fleeting emotion in the bottom of your stomach. It nearly unravels you how warm it is. It spreads throughout your body from your palms to the soles of your feet to the tips of your ears and the roof of your mouth. You turn away from him as if to escape the spell he was casting on you. It doesn’t work.

It was easier to believe it was something else in the beginning. When you were falling into leaves with Astarion leaning over you, or listening to the silky smooth timbre of his voice as he seduced you jokingly. It’s not that much fun anymore now that it works. You wrap your arms around your knees and pull them to your chest. You bite the inside of your cheek. You blink ash out of your eyes.

‘Thank you,’ you say finally. ‘For telling me and for apologizing. We can make this work.’ You reach over and squeeze his knee. ‘Once Nere is dealt with.’

Despite your heart to heart with Astarion, the bickering doesn’t stop although you now understand it comes from a place of fear rather than anger. You nearly lose an eye to Volo’s enthusiasm and inexperience, and Astarion yells at the bard so loudly you almost expect him to leave in the middle of the night. Astarion doesn’t yell at you, but you do keep both eyes open that night. Volo is still there in the morning, perhaps against his better judgment.

Over the course of your exploration of the Rosymorn Monastery, you and Astarion slowly come back together. Astarion lets you hold his hand while you take the lift down to the monastery itself and kneels with you when you have to press yourself against the floor, and he helps lift you off when it’s finished and you’re almost certain your legs have turned to nothing. But Astarion pouts even when you find the room with the kobolds and looks pained when he sees your new eye.

Surely he does forgive you a little. He says nothing when you fall asleep on him later that evening. Gale used the wine from earlier for everything he cooked that evening, and your stomach was so full and warm that you couldn’t help but lean against Astarion after eating. He read a chapter from one of his novels to you to keep you entertained.

You remember everyone was sorting through the goods of the day, and Shadowheart and Lae’zel were antagonizing one another like they normally do, but it was cozy and familiar. It reminded you of when you were still a child living at home with your mother’s family. You fell asleep without intending to. The fact he was there at all, you think, is what made you happy.

You’re coaxed to consciousness by tender stroking around your eye, and when you finally manage to open them despite your grogginess, Astarion is leaning above you and studying your face. He doesn’t hide when you catch him. He looks sad, so impossibly sad, that you think something terrible has happened.

‘Is everyone  —  ’

‘Oh yes,’ he says quietly. ‘The rest of us are all quite fine. Thank you for asking, my dear.’ He frowns. ‘Always so concerned about others, but never really concerned for yourself, are you?’

You furrow your brows. ‘I was a bit drunk,’ you say, trying to make your tone cheerful. ‘I’m okay now!’

‘The hag,’ Astarion complains, ‘messed with your eye. Omeluum nearly killed you, as kind as he was. Volo did butcher you.’ He bites his lip. ‘What will happen when we meet the Githyanki?’

‘They’ll get rid of the parasite,’ you say.

The fight leaves you. You don’t want to argue anymore. You want to sleep and dream and think of what your next step is. Part of you wants to lash out, but there’s something in the way Astarion is looking at you that keeps you from saying something witty and biting. You flush with frustration and sit up immediately, hating that he’s turning potential salvation into an argument a half-day’s walk away from the creche.

Once, Astarion had asked for the tadpoles and you had thrown the few jars you’d collected at him in anger. The next day, they were neatly returned to your bag and no other word was said about it. It’s all so confusing! Does Astarion like you? Does Astarion hate you? For how much longer are you going to desperately seek his approval?

 You press your palm against your eye and try to ignore the wiggling you can feel at the memories. You stand up quickly and stalk off in the same direction you were already looking, careful to not be too loud as you pass the tents of your sleeping companions. All you want is to clear your mind and go back to sleep without any fuss. Without any arguing.

Like you had done before in the Underdark, Astarion follows you on your walk without saying anything. You aren’t sure why you let him come without a fight, but you don’t want to snap at him to leave in case it makes matters worse. All you do is lean against the first tree that you can find, and hope and pray and wish that your wine-induced headache goes away before the yelling begins.

‘What do you want?’ you sigh.

‘You said,’ Astarion begins, ‘that we would make this work. I’m trying to be more…open with you about how I feel, but every time I try, you get mad at me.’

‘What would you have me do instead?’ you ask. ‘I’m trying to do what I think is right. To do what is expected of me. To try to keep everyone happy.’

‘Sometimes,’ he says exasperatedly, ‘I’m expecting you to be scared shitless.’

‘I don’t get to be scared shitless!’ you whine. ‘Everyone has made me a leader. I never wanted to be the leader of anything!’

‘Then don’t,’ Astarion says. ‘Let someone else do the dirty work for you.’

‘Lae’zel will be beyond furious if we don’t visit the creche,’ you argue.

‘Let her go and deal with her brethren on her own!’ Astarion says with a shrug. ‘Or assign her Shadowheart and Halsin. It’ll go pleasantly. You and I already know it won't work.’

‘We don’t, not for certain,’ you say vehemently. You dig your fingers into the bark. ‘What if it works? They’ll get the cure and we’ll get nothing.’

‘Halsin seems sure that it won’t,’ he counters. ‘Our best interest is to seek information at the Moonrise Towers where all the other tadpole bastards are gathering.’

‘What if it does work?’ you insist. ‘What if we visit this healer and they are able to remove the parasite? It spares us from having to venture into the Shadow-Cursed Lands at all. We wound’t have to face the curse Halsin spoke of. Don’t you want that?’

‘Yes,’ Astarion says as if it’s simple.

You turn and frown at him. He’s standing a little ways away from you with his arms crossed, his eyes trained on the moon overhead, his chin tilted in consideration. You slide down the tree with a groan and put your head in your hands.

‘But I know you,’ Astarion says almost sadly. ‘Even if we’re cured by the Githyanki, you’ll want to go to where the curse is thickest to help Halsin lift the shadows. You never stop at the easy decisions.’

You open your mouth to argue. There is a small, sinking feeling right in the center of your chest. Astarion is calling you out directly for it rather than getting mad and letting it slide. You’d be thankful if it weren’t for the way it felt like a punch to the gut. Astarion walks over to you carefully and joins you in the dirt, his legs on either side of yours. He watches as you wrestle with your feelings. Without saying anything, he touches your calf and squeezes it comfortingly.

‘I don’t want everyone to hate me,’ you say, your voice thick with tears. ‘I want to do what’s best. That’s why I try so hard. If there’s even a chance this is what’s best for us, then  —  ’

‘You are what’s best,’ Astarion interrupts.

‘You don’t understand!’

‘I could,’ he says, smoothing his hand against your leg. ‘If you would let me.’

So you explain it: You’ve never felt like you had a family. Your father was a high-elf who sired a babe on your human mother. It was never supposed to happen, and they had never intended to get together because of it. Your mother had loved you, but no one other family on her side seemed to care much for a child born out of wedlock. You spent holidays sitting away from your cousins, and when you set out to find your father, the mindflayers had swept you up. You never stood a chance.

You hated to admit it, but this was your family now. Shadowheart and her strange darkness, Lae’zel and her anger to cover up her fear, Karlach and her wonderful laughter and ambition, Wyll and his drive and focus, Gale and his knowledge and inspiration, Astarion and  —  Admitting it makes your throat close up, but the hand on your leg won’t stop the melodic, soothing rubbing. You force yourself to admit that you love him. You don’t say love to him directly, but it’s obvious.

Astarion listens, humming and nodding when necessary, and his hand never leaves your leg. You can feel the warmth of his palm through your sleep pants, and it makes you miss him even though he’s sitting right there. You lean forward and he leans with you until your foreheads are nestled together. You close your eyes and feel as he nuzzles his nose against yours as gentle as he can be.

It’s unlike him.

For someone who is always on the move, desperate to do the next thing, Astarion treats you carefully. You soften into the touch.

‘We are your family now,’ Astarion murmurs. ‘Let us take some of the weight for you. You might be surprised to learn you needn’t bear this cross alone. Our lives aren’t worth the cost of yours.’

You swallow your instinct to disagree, and nod, feeling his forehead scrunch against yours. ‘Alright,’ you say. It’s the only thing you can manage without crying.

‘Alright,’ he agrees, nodding with you because it’s silly to do. ‘We’ll make this work.’ ‘Do you…have a moment?’ Astarion asks you one evening. ‘I  —  I think we need to talk.’

You don’t know if it’s the impending sense of doom that has swept you both up or if you’re hoping for a moment of reprieve from the back to back onslaught, but you walk with Astarion. You try not to think too hard about his quiet tone. You can’t go very far like you normally do, not wanting to explain why you need to borrow a Moon Lantern, but you find a little alcove to sit in far enough away that the other companions’ conversations have quieted to nothing but a dull hum. There’s still light from the torches Wyll had helped Lae’zel set up around camp earlier.

Astarion sits a bit away from you and angles his body to face the gloom in the distance. There’s sorrow in the slump of his shoulders. In the dark circles under his eyes. He is making himself small, you realize, in case you decide to get angry. Your mouth goes dry.

It’s going to be another fight, isn’t it?

Except where all other fights led to a deeper understanding, this will be the fight that causes Astarion to leave. Your stomach rolls uncomfortably. You stare at your hands and try to imagine how his fingers felt when they slid against yours. A part of you begins demanding that you start begging to make amends, as if you can stop whatever Astarion is longing to say before he says it. You chew the skin of your lips to keep from saying anything aloud before Astarion has opened up about what’s bothering him.

You’re certain you’re going to be sick.

‘Are you…alright?’ you ask. Even to you, your voice sounds miles away. ‘You’re not hurt, are you? From the fight with Marcus?’

‘It’s nothing like that,’ Astarion says thickly. ‘I’m fine. It’s just, I haven’t felt this awful in ages.’ He drags in a deep breath. ‘But you’re always so honest, and you deserve that same kind of honesty.’

‘Have I done something wrong?’ you ask smally.

‘It’s nothing you’ve done,’ Astarion assures you. ‘I’m sure you’ve heard it before. The old, it’s not you, it’s me but this time, it actually is…me.’

You shake your head. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong.’

‘When we met, I had a plan,’ he confesses. ‘A nice, simple plan  —  I would seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so I would never be betrayed. It was instinctive. I was playing a part, but the more time I spent with you, the worse I felt.’

His breathing labors as he continues, and with dread, you realize that he would be weeping if he wasn’t trying so damn hard to be strong for you. It hurts your feelings to hear your fears come out of his mouth. You steel yourself so that you can listen to him finish, but in the back of your mind, you’re already thinking about what it will be like when Astarion has left empty spaces in your life. You turn to face him. He’s unable to look at you just yet, but you watch as his jaw works and he tries his hardest to finish what he’s saying without giving up and stopping.

‘It was a habit from two hundred years of doing it for him,’ he spits. ‘All you had to do was fall for it, but you didn’t, not exactly. You didn’t trust me and that was very fair of you. I wouldn’t have  —  even now, I would have never trusted myself if I were someone else.’

‘You did try to eat me,’ you say, trying to joke.

‘I wasn’t going to eat you,’ Astarion says despairingly. ‘Well, I suppose in some ways I have cannibalized you. You cared, so I started to care. You wept, so I wept. You wanted to save the world in a grand sweeping gesture of familial declaration and…I wanted to, too. With you. My plan changed. I wanted to become someone worthy of, well, you.’

‘To be a storybook hero,’ you whisper.

He laughs faintly. ‘When you talked about wanting a family, I thought about how Cazador gave me a one and how I tried to protect them but it was never good enough. He still hurt them when they were bad, when I couldn’t protect them. But now I have a real family, a family that would protect me too. I don’t want to lose them. I don’t want to lose you. I want to protect you and be protected in return.’ He looks at you, eyes brimming with tears.

‘You’re incredible,’ Astarion confesses, shaking his head. ‘You deserve so much better than I, but the thought of you with someone else fills me with such jealousy I can hardly stand it. I want us to be something real.’

You choke on the quietest of sobs, and Astarion reaches to take your hands into his. He doesn’t mean to, but his grip is so tight on your hands that if you try to pull them away, you think he’d topple over with you. You cling back to him. You’ll fall into eternity if you let go. He catches you as best he can.

‘I care about you,’ you say. ‘I knew it even when I didn’t want to admit it. When Gandrel found us, the night I was certain I was turning into a mindflayer  —  It doesn’t matter to me, Astarion. Why you did it. I will never understand the depth of what has happened to you  —  but I can keep it from happening again.’

‘I laughed at you the first time you suggested it.’

‘I deserved it,’ you say, ‘but I know I can do it now.’

Astarion swallows thickly. ‘I expected us to fight again. You’d be well within your right to be horrible.’

‘It hurts,’ you admit. He closes his eyes at the confession, but you squeeze his hands. ‘But it doesn’t change anything, Astarion. I would have loved you until the world ended.’

‘Luckily for you,’ Astarion says with a small laugh. ‘I know you would never let the world end.’

[shadowynn]

| in love and lore | nine |

pairing: ateez x fem reader

genre: fantasy/daemon/soulmate au

warnings: some cursing, violence, death, blood, negative thoughts

summary: the daemon king and his seven black generals. names and faces of these eight had changed over the years as each new king was crowned, but their reputation as the most powerful daemons always remained the same. upon hearing the rumors one of the seven led the charge of the nearby battle, you should have stayed close to the encampment. you should have never wandered out on your own. but you did, and your life would never be the same again. good or bad, you would just have to wait to find out.

“There’s no need to be afraid, angel.” His words were a breath against the side of your neck. “You’ve done so much for us, let your king now return the favor.”

wordcount: 12.5k

a/n: so, originally this chapter and the previous were supposed to be one part, but then somehow the journey from maehwa and taeyang took a life of its own and turned into nearly 30k words. and i think i still have things to add with it in the next chapter too. oops. but, i hope you all enjoy and that the longer chapter once again makes up for the wait. :)

| eight | nine | ten |

~

“Damn it.”

The curse slipped out of your mouth the moment you noticed the way Mingi’s lips had tilted upwards, fully aware the thoughts you had been trying to contain had slipped past your makeshift barrier once more. You leaned back in your seat with a sigh, rubbing at the headache that had begun to bloom in the front of your head. It had started earlier in the day, but your training session with Mingi had only caused it to worsen, the constant throbbing doing little to aid your concentration and causing the mental wall you had carefully attempted to construct to come tumbling down.

You couldn’t pin all the blame on it, however, and the lack of progress you had been making was beyond frustrating. Since you had left Maehwa nearly two weeks ago, you had spent an hour or two with Mingi, or one of the others if he was busy, but it wasn’t nearly as simple as the others made it look. The ease with which they directed their thoughts to one another, blocking out anyone they didn’t want to hear them, had made you assume it wouldn’t take long for you to get a hold of. And though there were rare instances where it worked, these were far and few between, making you feel like you were still exactly where you had started.

They did their best to be encouraging, but you couldn’t help but feel like some of it came up short. No one ever came outright and said it, but you didn’t have to read their thoughts to know what they were thinking. The lack of maetha flowing in your veins made the task all the more difficult for you. Your status as a halfbreed was once again making your life more difficult than if you had been born one or the other.

It felt strange, finding hatred building up inside of you towards the side of yourself that you had wished would be you for so long. All your life you had wanted to be normal. To be human. You had spent countless nights praying and wishing and hoping for a way to be rid of your daemonic heritage. All you wanted was to fit in and not be judged for something out of your control. But now, now you were once again reminded of your shortcomings because of it. Of how weak you were because of the human blood running through your veins.

It was frustrating to see how you fell short among the daemons and to realize that you would always fall short among them. To see how you would never fit in with them the same way you had never fit in with the humans. And you didn’t know which had been worse, being hated, feared, and mistreated, or to be constantly reminded of how weak you were, how impure you were, and how your humanity would always limit you.

“Maybe we should break for the night.” Mingi interrupted your train of thoughts, and though he did his best to hide it, you could tell he knew where your mind had just dwelled to. Whether it was from hearing the actual words, or just the emotions flooding through, you weren’t sure, but it didn’t matter. The general message was still the same. “It’s been a long few days of traveling and I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

You nodded. A part of you wanted to argue, eager to finally have a hold on your thoughts and a semblance of privacy once more, but you knew he was right. You were exhausted and your head was aching. Even if you attempted to push through for the moment, it would only succeed in making you more tired than you already were. 

“C’mon then, angel.” Mingi stood up first, extending a hand towards you. “I can walk you to your tent.”

You took his hand without much thought, allowing him to pull you up from your seat. Once you were up on your feet, you pulled the hood of your cloak over your head and followed Mingi through the rain. You had never minded the rain much before, but after traveling in it for the past week, you were desperate for a bit of sun. The woods you had been traveling through the last few days had given some cover from it, but you still felt like you were stuck in a perpetual state of being wet. This alongside the endless cloudy skies only added to your falling mood.

Things had changed in the weeks that had followed your talk with Hongjoong and the others, not quite as awkward as it had been in the days leading up to it, but you were still left with some level of discomfort. Talking through things had helped to clear the air, but it did little to help the unease you felt over being their mate, a fact you had still not been able to come to terms with yourself. They had kept their word and done little to pressure you into anything, keeping it all on your time and your terms, but you still found yourself squirming any time they did anything for you. The acts of civility and kindness were foreign enough, but the knowledge of why they treated you that way, sent your anxiety over the edge. 

You hadn’t known how you were going to tell your siblings, not when the mere thought of your tie to them left you all flustered and embarrassed. As normal as they tried to make it seem, you knew the idea of you being their mate was insane, and would sound just as insane to anyone else as it had for you. How were you supposed to sit down and explain it to Soomin and Hyunwoo when you couldn’t even accept it yourself? And yet, when you got down to it, you quickly discovered you didn’t have to. While neither had mentioned it in the week that had followed your first conversation with Hongjoong, both of your siblings had been privy to what had happened as your brother had boldly approached Hongjoong that first night and demanded to know what he had done to you to leave you in such a state. 

And while you were mildly perturbed by the fact Hongjoong had told Hyunwoo, who had  in turn told Soomin, it did make the conversation easier on your part. The surprise your relation to the daemons might have brought, had long already dissipated, allowing you to quickly voice your own concerns and fears to each of them.

The topic which had followed, however, had not been nearly as easy to have, and upon learning of your parents’ true demise, each of them were left in a similar state as yourself. Relieved by the knowledge of your father’s true nature, yet utterly crestfallen upon realizing the life that had been stolen from you. 

“You do know that none of us think lowly of you in any way.” Mingi had been silent during the short trek, but spoke up just as you were about to head inside, stopping your movements and causing you to look up at him. “And if anyone were undeserving of this, it’s us, not you. In truth, you’re much too good for us, for me. I’m not the man you deserve, not with the things I’ve done in the past, and you,” he sighed, tilting back your hood to see your face clearly, fingers brushing against your chin, “you’re the kindest and purest soul I’ve ever met and thinking of you as my mate almost feels sinful.”

You struggled to come up with a response, too busy attempting to process what he had just admitted to you. You knew you should come up with something, anything, but the raw emotion that had accompanied his words left you yearning to run away.

His words were a direct reflection of the self-loathing that filled you, and an attempt to try and placate it. You could feel the genuineness in his words, but it didn’t matter if Mingi was speaking what he believed to be the truth or not, the simple fact they were the ones undeserving and not yourself was the farthest thing from the truth. Maybe he did believe it, but that didn’t change the fact it was them who deserved someone better than yourself, someone pure. Someone whole. 

Overwhelmed, you turned your face away, unable to keep eye contact with him any longer. Offering a soft, “Goodnight, Mingi,” you slipped back into the tent behind you, hoping he didn’t see the true extent his words had on you.

“You’re back early,” Soomin looked up from the book she had been reading when you entered. “I was expecting Hyunwoo to return before you.”

“No, Mingi thought it would be a good idea if I retired early for the night.” You did your best to calm your raging heart, hoping Soomin was oblivious to the conversation you had just had and the state it had left you in. “And with the way my head has been pounding, I didn’t disagree.” 

Soomin sat up in her cot, bookmarking the page she was on and turning to give you her full attention for the time being. “Is it the training?”

“I don’t think so.” You shook your head, inwardly tensing at the sharp jab of pain the movement caused. “It’s never been this bad before and while it could just be a culmination of training so much these past few days, I think I might just be coming down with something.”

The thought had strayed across your mind as your head had worsened over the day, wondering if you were coming down with some sort of illness. The possibility was definitely there; the combination of the stress your body had been under the past few weeks with the cold rain that had left you drenched more often than not the past few days, certainly increased your odds of catching something. And though your blood quickly healed any physical injury you may have received, it did little to aid you whenever you were sick.

“Did Woo say where he was going this time?” You slid off your muddy boots and cloak near the entrance of the tent before collapsing on the cot next to your sister to alleviate some of the tension in your head, as well as attempt to emotionally recover from what Mingi had just confessed to you - god, that exit had not been graceful in any shape or form on your part. “I didn’t see him at the forge when I passed by on my way here.”

Out of the three of you, Hyunwoo seemed to have the easiest time adjusting to your new life, more at ease with the daemons than either you or Soomin were. He chatted with Hongjoong and the Seven with an ease that had you almost envious as you traveled throughout the day, often talking with them more than you ever did yourself, and leaving you wishing you could disappear from view whenever he spoke of tales from your childhood.

You had even begun to find him with one or two of them whenever you broke for camp in the evenings, most often finding him with Jongho near the makeshift forge. The latter had a keen interest in your brother’s daemon ability, and the two often spent the evenings talking while Hyunwoo helped to resupply their weapon stock. Sometimes Hongjoong or one of the others would join them, and it wasn’t until a few nights ago that the source behind their interest finally hit you. Yeosang had claimed your brother’s appearance was near identical to your father’s, the very man who had been close to all of them in their childhood, and this resemblance alongside a similar personality had pulled them in, reminding them of the friend they had lost so many years ago.

“I think he was going to ask one of the generals to teach him how to fight,” Soomin replied through a yawn. “I think Jongho had made some comment towards it a few nights ago and Woo sounded like he wanted to take him up on it.” 

“Oh.” You had a hard time keeping the disappointment out of your voice, unsure why her comment had affected you in such a way. 

It was hard to tell exactly how the budding friendship between him and the others made you feel. You were happy Hyunwoo had seemed to find a friendship among them, something none of you had really gotten to experience before, and more than happy to know he didn’t seem to resent you or blame you for being dragged away from your home. But there was another part of you that was envious of him and the ease with which he communicated with them alongside the naturally forming relationships. An ease which might have been yours if you didn’t have the status of being their mate hanging over your head and how this one singular factor had forced them all into your life. 

Things had gotten better since you had talked with them and established some ground rules for how this whole relationship - if that’s what you were to call it - would work, but that didn’t mean you were at complete ease with your newfound situation either. None of it changed the fact you had been forced into this situation against your will, nor did it change the fact you would be able to walk away if you so wished. And in some ways, the truth had only caused your anxiety to spike, reading farther into things than you had before. While you had constantly questioned the motive behind their actions before you found out they were your mates, you now constantly questioned whether these same actions were done purely because of this fact. Unlike the seemingly naturally flowing relation between them and your brother, you couldn’t help but see how different yours was from it and how it would have never even been if it wasn’t for the fact you were their mate. 

“Do you ever wish I would have just listened to you?” 

“Hmm?” Soomin hummed, not quite understanding what it was that you were asking.

“Do you ever wish I would have listened to you and stopped going out at night? Stopped being the Black Angel?” you asked, gaze locked on the ceiling above you. “If I had, I might have never gotten us into this mess and we might still be at home, curled up next to the fire after a long day at work.”

“Do you really think that would have changed anything?” she replied, and upon seeing your confusion, continued. “Even if you never saved their soldiers, even if you never saved Seonghwa, none of that would have changed the fact you were still their mate. None of it would have changed the fact they were looking for you, and would have found you in Maehwa all the same when they attacked it or that they would want to bring you back with them once the war was over.”

“I don’t know, Min, I can’t shake the thought that none of them would have cared about me if it wasn’t for the things I did. For the way I helped them.” You shivered, remembering the words Mingi had spoken earlier. Would they still think highly of you if it wasn’t for your deeds as the Black Angel? Would they still think a poor, halfbreed was too good for them? Would they still want you for a queen? 

“I’m afraid I’m unable to accurately speak on their behalf, but I can’t help but believe that nothing would have changed.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“Well, for one, have you seen the way they look at you, n/n?” The way your cheeks tinted pink was all the confirmation Soomin needed. “And it’s not just the pure adoration they hold for you, either. You should see what happens when you’re with Hyunwoo, and I’m now fairly confident they’re jealous of your relationship with him, crestfallen at the way you go to him for everything and not them. I had never seen a man look as disappointed as San did when Woo carried you back to our tent that third night on the road after complaining about being sore from riding, especially with the way you two were giggling.” Soomin laughed as her response caused your embarrassment to deepen. “And after everything else they’ve done thus far, I’ve held the sneaking suspicion for a few days now that they’ve started to keep Woo busy at night so you’re forced to spend time with them instead.” 

“That is not true, Min, and you know it.” 

You were quick to deny her statement, finding the idea absolutely ridiculous. The idea of them being jealous of the close relationship you had with your brother was insane, and the only reason Hyunwoo had begun to be busy these past few nights was because of the friendship that had begun to form between them. If anyone were to be jealous in this situation, it was you. After all, not one of them had ever asked if you wanted to learn how to fight or even what it was you wanted altogether. 

“Do you think this will ever feel normal?” You turned your head back in the direction of your sister, eager to change the topic to something else. 

“In which way do you mean?” Soomin’s head tilted at your question. “Normal in the sense the daemons won the war and we’ll now be living in their domain, or normal in the sense your the daemon king’s mate and you’re to be their queen?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, rolling back over as the weight of her words hit you in a different way than the ones before, “both I guess.”

She was quiet for a minute, pondering the question you had posed for her. “It will likely take quite a bit of time and effort, but I’m almost certain somewhere down the road it will be. We still have our whole lives in front of us.”

“I don’t know, Minnie. I don’t think the fact they want me to be their queen will ever feel normal.”

You couldn’t control the shiver the words elicited from you. With everything going on and the position you were currently in, you had never let your thoughts dwell to that part of your relationship with the daemons and did your best to always push it away, nonsensically believing it wouldn’t be true if you never admitted it to yourself.

“Would you think ill of me if I said I wished it wasn’t the case?” Fighting the pounding in your head, you stared once more at the ceiling above you, wondering once again how you had landed yourself here. “For wishing that it would have been anyone else but me? I don’t want to be their mate and I sure as hell don’t want to be a queen. I just want to be normal. I want to feel normal.”

“And why would I think ill of you for that?”

“Because I can’t shake the guilty feeling that rises up each time I wish things would just go back to the way they were before; just you, me, and Woo against the world,” you replied. “And I’m terrified. I thought I was scared before, back when the daemon brought me to Seonghwa and back when they attached this bond to me, but knowing the truth to everything has only made it worse. I may be half-daemon, but the world of daemons is completely foreign to me. I don’t know their culture. I don’t know their customs, and to be told I’m the mate of the daemon king and to be thrust into it all just feels like some sort of cruel joke. I mean, look at me, do I look like a queen to you?”

You motioned to your current state of dress, the oversized and stained riding leathers a comical difference from the dress you had worn on the night of the ball. And a stark difference from what you imagined a lady of your coming status was supposed to look like.

“I don’t know, n/n, you look pretty regal to me.” It was Hyunwoo who replied, hearing your question from outside the tent as he clambered inside. “I’ve been told weather-stained leather is all the rage back in Taeyang these days.”

“Oh, sure.” Your eyes narrowed at the innocent smile that lined his features as he kicked his boots off, oblivious to the conversation you and Soomin had been having about him earlier. Really? They were jealous of him? Hyunwoo? Your twin brother? “It must go right in hand with being hornless. I’m sure I’ll be the envy of the entire city when we get there.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will be. Just maybe not exactly for that reason.”

“God, Woo, please don’t remind me,” you groaned, rolling over to lay on your back once more. 

As much as all the traveling and the incessant rain wore you down, you had no desire for it to come to an end anytime soon. You were well aware of what awaited you at the end of this journey and had come to dread it. Though you had never felt completely at ease with the daemons you traveled with here, your previous actions as the Black Angel and the amount of daemons you had healed had created a sort of buffer for you. They may have looked down at you for your lineage, but there was some respect towards you from some of them, grateful for the lives you had saved in the past two years. It was the same respect you had garnered from the human soldiers you had traveled with. They may have never known you as the Angel, but they were well aware of your abilities, having played a hand in healing almost all of them at some point in the war.

But you could only imagine what sort of fresh hell awaited you at Taeyang and what sort of reception you would receive from the daemons there upon your arrival. You had barely come to terms with your own fate as it were; you couldn’t imagine what sort of reaction it would pull from the daemons when they found out and had no doubt that many of them would do everything in their power to stop the plans Hongjoong had for you. And though you told yourself it would never come to fruition, a small part of you wondered what might become of you if they succeeded. Whether this was by killing you off like the other half-daemons or by convincing Hongjoong and his generals of what you had told them all along, that you being their mate really was insane, and that they would finally turn their backs on you for good.

Sensing your distaste for the direction the conversation had taken, Hyunwoo transitioned it over to how his evening at camp had gone. Sure, enough, Jongho had been serious in his offer to train your brother and had spent the last few hours teaching him the basics. Unlike your time with Mingi, however, it seemed Hyunwoo had been able to see some progress by the end of the session, more enthusiastic than you had ever been when you left Mingi, or whoever else was helping you, each evening. 

At some point in the conversation, you fell asleep, exhausted by the day’s events, only to wake up hours later feeling much worse than you had before. No longer was your head the only thing aching, but the rest of your body as well. No matter how much you yearned to go back to sleep, you spent the next few hours in a semi-awake state, tossing the blankets on, off, and on again from the feverish chills that racked your body.

You were only able to stay curled up in bed for so much longer. Despite every fiber in your body yearning to stay curled up in bed, you hated how sleep continued to escape you. You may have felt akin to death in that moment, especially when you slowly pulled yourself up, but the hope of being able to find some form of medicine in the infirmary and ease your symptoms was all the motivation you needed to clamber to your feet.

The camp was quiet as you made your way outside, the daemons who were not on duty asleep inside their own tents. The rain had finally let up a little in the night, slowing to a drizzle, but still enough to have you wrapping your cloak tightly around you. 

As you made your way to the infirmary, you were once again thankful you had convinced them you no longer needed a constant guard. You didn’t know how they might have reacted to the fact you were sick, but you had no desire to find out. The last thing you wanted was to be coddled at the moment, especially when you had to make a short detour when your stomach rolled on you. 

The infirmary was mostly empty when you arrived, the majority of the daemons injured from the earlier fighting having long been healed by yourself. Other than the two daemons asleep in cots among the back corner of the tent, the only other person inside was the daemon sorting through the current stock to your left. He briefly looked your way when he heard your approach, gaze doubling back quickly when you pulled your hood down and he saw who you were.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be a bother, but do you happen to have any medicine in stock? Anything to help with a fever?” You were nervous in your approach, fully recognizing him as someone you had seen working here before, but never without one of the Seven at your side. And while you didn’t imagine he would do anything, not with your relation to Hongjoong and the others, you still grew nervous under his gaze, wondering just how that relation made him feel.

“I’m afraid we don’t usually keep those sorts of medicines in stock,” the daemon shook his head. “We don’t typically need to carry anything relating to human illnesses as it’s rare we ever have need of them.”

“Oh, right.”

Your mood swiftly fell, fully reminded in that moment how daemons didn’t suffer from the same diseases or illnesses the humans did, and that it was rare a daemon ever actually got sick. It was just another way your lineage had cursed you, and another reminder of how much weaker you were than them. And after the past few days and the way you felt at that moment, it was hard to fight back the tears his statement brought.

“But we might have the ingredients in stock for them if you’re feeling up to brewing it yourself.” He motioned to the boxes beside him. “I would offer to do it for you, as I am the one on duty right now, but I’m afraid I don’t know the recipe.”

“Really?” Relief flooded through you at his response. It wasn’t the ideal solution, as you currently felt like your legs were going to give up on you at any moment, but if spending the next hour fighting through the pain meant it would ease it for the rest of the day, then so be it. “I would greatly appreciate that.”

He left you alone after that, spending the majority of his time and attention on his own work, rather than on yourself. And though he peered in your direction every so often, you were able to ignore him as you worked, doing your best to concentrate on the task at hand and not mess it all up.

By the time you were finishing up, the first peaks of sunlight in days began to make their way through the tent, and you could hear the camp beginning to wake up around you. And though you had hoped you would finish up and be back at your own tent before anyone of importance noticed you were missing and sick, your luck wore out as you began pouring the freshly brewed potion into an empty flask and saw a familiar tall figure make his way inside.

You froze, assuming Yunho had made his way here to check up on you, but his eyes never strayed in your direction as he approached the daemon on duty and started asking about the current status of supplies. Not wanting to press your luck, you quickly finished up your work in an attempt to step out before he took notice of your stray figure in the back, but in your haste and weakened state, you stumbled over one of the supply boxes on the ground. The trip was enough to cause you to lose a grip on the cauldron you had been attempting to put back up and creating a loud enough commotion that had both daemons swiftly looking in your direction.  

“y/n, what are you doing here?” Yunho’s eyes widened when he saw it was you, leaving the daemon healer he had been talking with to rush to your side and pick up the cauldron you had just dropped.

“Oh, um… just some potion brewing.” The words stumbled out and it took everything in you to keep your cheeks from tinting pink as Yunho put the cauldron up and turned to direct his focus on you.

“At this hour?” 

“I had a hard time sleeping last night, so-” you paused, burying your face into the crook of your sleeve as you sneezed, “I came here.”

You were desperate to get away, knowing each second you lingered here with him, the easier it would be for him to see through your facade. The last thing you wanted was to attract more attention or concern towards you in this moment, but he stopped you when you made to move past him.

“You’re sick.” It wasn’t a question, and the concern which lined his face at the realization made your stomach drop. “Mingi mentioned your head was bothering you last night, but we just assumed it might have been the training.” He raised a hand towards your face, pressing the back against your forehead before you were able to rebuke his earlier assessment. “Angel, you’re burning up. What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting if you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m fine,” you shook your head, doing your best to not wince at the pain the action caused and attempting to step away and create some distance between the two of you. “I made some medicine for myself, so I’m sure I’ll be feeling like normal here in a little bit.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Yunho continued to press, his reaction revealing exactly why you hadn’t wanted to bother any of them over your health. “We could have gotten what you needed while you rested.”

“Yunho, I’m fine, really.” You waved his concern away with your hand, moving for the entrance in the hopes he would let it be. “Besides, I don’t suppose there’s anyone here but me that knows how to combat human illnesses.”

His face fell at your words, quickly realizing you were right. When it came down to brewing potions that dealt with human ailments, you were the only one in the entire camp who had any knowledge or experience with it. 

After you finally convinced him to leave you be to get ready after accompanying you back to your tent, you had thought that it was the last of it and that he would let you be. Unfortunately for you, you quickly came to realize that you hadn’t even faced the worst of it yet when Wooyoung approached you later with only his horse in tow.

“Where’s Nari?” You asked, scanning the crowd around you for the horse that had been given to you for the journey. 

Now that you had some medicine in you, you felt much better than you had earlier, but you could still feel the lingering effects of exhaustion lining your body and you wanted nothing more than to catch up on the sleep you had missed the night before. 

“Considering your current state, we thought it best if you rode with one of us today. That-”

“No, I’m fine, really.” You shook your head, cutting him off before he could finish and hating that Yunho had gone back and told everyone about your current state of health..

Ride with one of them? You were anxious enough being around them all day on your own horse, how the hell were you supposed to make it through when you would be that close to one of them? And while it wasn’t like you hadn’t been that close before, it had only been for brief moments, and you hadn’t been the least bit aware of what was going on between you. Well, except for when Hongjoong had embraced you, but that had been different. That had been an action spawned from the desperate need of comfort rather than any physical gain, like when San had forced you to dance with him. 

He sighed, “Angel-”

“Really, I’m fine. And even if I wasn’t, it’s not like I haven’t had to work or travel while I wasn’t feeling physically up to it before, you know? I might be a little tired, but I can still ride a horse just fine.”

“Just because you’ve had to do it before doesn’t mean you still have to,” Wooyoung replied, just as stubborn as you were when it came to winning this argument. “Honestly, angel, you look terrible - not like that, pretty. You’re still as beautiful as ever,” he was quick to add at the way your eyes had narrowed from the comment he had made about your appearance, causing you to become more flustered than you were before and wishing you hadn’t reacted in the first place. “But I can see how this is taking a toll on you, so please, ride with me today.” His gaze softened, Wooyoung’s generally playful attitude masked by the concern he had for you. “Let us take care of you, angel. Please.”

Your arms crossed as you mulled over his words, turning your head away to hide the flustered state he had left you in. Everything in you told you to continue fighting him on the matter, uncomfortable with the aspect of letting anyone take care of you, of letting anyone love you, especially if it were them. The mere thought of giving in only served to terrify you, leaving you feeling more exposed than you had before. Because what would happen if you did? What would happen if you did allow them to help and care for you? What would happen if you let down your barriers and allowed them closer inside only to discover none of this had ever been true. Only to find out it had all been some cruel plan to use you in some way. Because despite everything they said, why would they ever accept someone like you as their mate?

“But how will you ever come to know our intentions are genuine if you never give us a chance?” Wooyoung let go of his horse’s reins for a moment, taking hold of the bottom of your chin to lift your gaze up to him. “Just ride with me for the morning, and if you’re feeling better in a few hours, you can go back to riding Nari like normal.”

He didn’t wait for your agreement, simply taking your hand and guiding you over to his horse. You knew you should have fought him, pulled your wrist from his grasp and stood your ground. All it would take was one swift reminder that he had agreed to do things on your terms and this was not something you were entirely comfortable with yet, but you didn’t. Whether it was the sincerity in his voice or and the way he had so desperately pleaded for you to let him in, the gentleness in his actions, or just the haze that covered your mind from being sick, you let him continue without any further hint of opposition. 

When he swung up behind you, your body immediately stiffened, straightening up as much as you could to avoid the way his chest had brushed up against your back. It was impossible for you to completely avoid his touch, however, and his arms brushed against your waist as they took up the reins in front of you. 

Besides a few questions about your current wellbeing from a few of them, no one commented on your position with Wooyoung when you had reached the others. You could see the looks they gave, however, and though the daemons’ gazes were directed towards Wooyoung out of what you could only assume might have been possible jealousy, it still left an odd pit in your stomach all the same and had you squirming in your seat, reminding you of the comments Soomin had made the night before. 

The distance between you and Wooyoung only lasted for so long. Even if it wasn’t for the way your back was beginning to ache from the uncomfortable stance or the exhaustion that slowly grew as the day dragged by, you would have still struggled to maintain the distance you had created. Yunho was right when he had said the bond between mates was hard to ignore, and you struggled to actively fight the part of you that craved to give in and close the distance, to allow yourself to fully relax and take comfort in his touch and presence. 

You barely lasted an hour before you finally caved, shifting your weight almost subconsciously until you were fully resting against him. The action caused a soft exhale from Wooyoung, whose own body shifted almost automatically, bringing you in closer against him. 

“If you’re tired, feel free to sleep, angel.” Wooyoung spoke shortly after. “I’ve got you.” 

You nodded, having no intentions of falling asleep, but it seemed your body had different plans. It wasn’t long afterwards that you found yourself beginning to drift off and no matter how hard you attempted to keep your eyes open, you eventually settled into a dreamless slumber, rocked by the gentle sway of the horse beneath you and soothed by Wooyoung’s close presence.

By the time you were waking back up, the sun had long started its descent. It took you a few seconds to regain your setting, burrowing farther into the body behind you and relishing in the warmth that surrounded you. It wasn’t until you felt the chuckle reverberating in the chest you leaned against that you began to remember where you were and just who you were currently curled up against.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled between a yawn, pulling away from him in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

The longer you were awake, the more aware of your surroundings you became. And though your exhaustion had left you for the most part following your much needed nap, your body ached from the uncomfortable position you had been stuck in for so long and the headache that had disappeared earlier in the day had once again begun to come back now that the potion’s effects had started wearing off. 

“Don’t be,” Wooyoung replied, gently easing you back into your previous position against him. “Trust me when I say I did not mind in the least and am more than happy to have been able to help you catch up on some much needed sleep.”

You nodded, though his words did little more than deepen the blush that had already tinted your cheeks, fueled all the more by the looks the others sent your way in that moment. The slight frown that crossed San’s face followed by the soft rumble of Wooyoung’s chest as he laughed, all but confirming they were not only aware of your emotional state at the moment, but they were probably in the middle of a conversation you were conveniently blocked out of. It wasn’t the first time they had purposefully locked you out of their mental conversations, and you didn’t doubt it wouldn’t be the last either. 

“How long was I asleep?” you asked, doing your best to stretch out some of your aching muscles without bumping too much into the daemon behind you.

“The majority of the day,” he replied. “The woods should finally come to an end here in the next few miles, giving us a fairly decent place to camp for the night.”

Sure enough, Wooyoung spoke the truth and you soon came out of the woods that had plagued you for the last day and a half, and you were able to catch the first real peaks of sunlight in days before it disappeared behind the horizon. You were relieved when you were finally able to dismount for the day, securing some much needed space between you and Wooyoung, and yet almost instantly missing his presence the moment his touch left.

You rumbled through the belongings Wooyoung had attached to his horse for the day once he had helped you dismount, searching for the potion you had brewed that morning and taking another drink in the hope of quelling the headache that had begun to bloom once more and stifling the fever that would follow soon thereafter. And despite Wooyoung telling you to take it easy for the night, you waved his and the others’ concern away and helped set up camp for the night. 

One thing you could all agree on, however, was that you would forgo your training with Mingi for the night. The medicine might have helped quell the headache that had been plaguing you before, but they had still thought it best if you took it easy for the next few days until you completely recovered. And though you hated the feeling of being coddled and treated as though you were fragile, you had no qualms skipping the session for the day. At the rate you were going, you were pretty confident you would still be exactly where you were even with a few extra sessions.

So, after you had grabbed something to eat for that night, you followed Soomin back to your tent for the evening, wanting some time to yourself after being so close to Wooyoung for the day. You planned on going to bed early that night, hoping to regain your energy for the next day and avoid being put in a similar position to the one you were in earlier, but it seemed as though your brain had a different plan. 

No matter how much you tossed and turned, your brain refused to shut off, running through everything that had happened that day and unable to shake the flustered state it left you in each time you thought about the fact you had fallen asleep against Wooyoung and how you had put yourself in such a vulnerable position before him. 

You were well aware he and the others were already fully aware of your feelings towards them and the way certain actions made you feel. They may have held some constraint when it came to reacting to the thoughts and emotions you struggled to restrain, but you knew they heard more than they ever let on. You may have had a better hold on your thoughts than your emotions, finding it easier to keep your thoughts to yourself than it was to rein in your emotions, but did they need to hear the panicked thoughts going through your mind when your emotions told them everything they needed to know? You may have attempted to put up an air of indifference and the want of space, if only for your own sanity, but there was no hiding the strong attraction that pulled you in. And though you told yourself it was the fault of the bonds that tied you together and that you would never think or act on these things without them, it did little to make you feel any better or hide the embarrassment they brought. 

It just wasn’t fair. You were laid out so plainly for them to see and know and yet, their thoughts and intents were hidden away from you. It left you in a constant state of vulnerability, completely exposed for them, and yet, you knew absolutely nothing when it came to them. You had no clear idea if they spoke the truth or if their actions towards you were as genuine as they claimed. They seemed authentic, the vulnerability Yeosang and Hongjoong had shown you when they had mentioned their past seemed nothing but genuine, but you couldn’t shake the doubt away. Your entire relationship had started on secrets and partial truths, so how did you know anything had changed? How did you know you wouldn’t get to your destination in a few weeks and everything would change. 

Uncomfortable with the direction your thoughts had taken and not wanting to lay there any longer mulling over then sleeplessly, you clambered out of bed. Making your way over to the exit, you pulled your boots and cloak on as quietly as you could to avoid waking either of your siblings and slipped out into the night. 

The camp was still around you, the only daemons up and about at this hour were the ones on guard, quietly patrolling the edges of the ground. Wanting some semblance of privacy, you made your way to the edge of the camp, towards the edge of the forest you had been traveling through. While Hongjoong could reach you at any distance, you were far enough away from him to prevent any of your own thoughts from reaching him or the others, allowing you to relax a bit knowing your mind was your own for the time being. 

The guards patrolling paid little attention to your figure as you went, having long grown used to your nightly escapades the past few weeks and confident by now to know you just wanted some air and time to yourself. You settled against a tree along the border, keeping you just out of sight from the nearest guard. You had come out for a breath of fresh air, hoping the outside world would distract you from the thoughts that had been consuming you, but as you leaned your head back to look up at the night sky above you and noticed the subtle shift in constellations, they all came tumbling back, fully reminding you how you had left Maehwa and the humans far behind. 

You had traveled far from Maehwa before, reaching many of the cities that lay upon the human’s territory of the known world, but this was different. You still had another few days before you reached the border and had been this far from home before, but back then you had always had the reassurance you would be going back. That it was only temporary. Now, you were fully heading into the unknown without any confirmation if you would ever see your childhood home again. And though there was some comfort in knowing you weren’t alone, that Soomin and Hyunwoo were with you this time, it did little to stop the homesickness that had begun building up inside you ever since you had left. 

Maehwa and its inhabitants had never treated you well, and you may have been treated like a prisoner rather than a citizen more often than not, but it had been your home. Knowing you would never again see the four walls of the house you had grown up in or work another shift at the infirmary with Suho created an odd pit in the bottom of your stomach. You hadn’t had many friends outside your siblings, but you would have considered the man who had always treated you so kindly as something akin to it. And after everything you had been through together, you hadn’t even had a chance to tell him goodbye or to tell him how thankful you were for the kindness he had always shown you. 

Now you were on your way to somewhere new, accompanied by people nearly just as foreign as the place you were traveling to. No matter how many rumors and snippets you had heard about the southern kingdom, you had no idea what it was really like there. You may have spent several weeks with the daemons at this point, but all it had done was show you how different your way of life was from there, causing tension between you. You couldn’t imagine what else would happen when you finally arrived at your final destination or how its citizens would react to someone like you. Someone who was not only seen as an abomination and impure, but someone completely oblivious to their customs and way of life.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair and sinking further into the tree behind you. Hongjoong and the others made it sound so easy, as though you could just waltz into Taeyang as their mate without any sort of complications or backlash, completely oblivious to the fact that it was a completely different world for you than it was them. They wouldn’t be the ones on the receiving end of the daemons’ long rooted hatred, you would. And nothing they did or say would ever bring it to-

Your thoughts were shattered when you heard a strangled cry in the distance, coming from the direction of the nearest stationed guard. It was soft enough to not cause too much alarm, but enough to catch your attention in the dead of night. The cry was quickly followed by a thump, as though whoever had made the initial sound had fallen. Rising up from your seat, you turned in the direction the guard had previously been seen illuminated by the fire beside him only to find him missing from view.

For a second, you panicked, immediately coming to the conclusion you were under attack before realizing how crazy that was. The camp contained the bulk of the daemon army, alongside their king and all seven of his generals. Who in their right mind would dare to attack them? Even with a surprise attack in the middle of the night, it was downright suicide for the humans to attempt a rebellion now in such a manner. Not when they had just seen how easy it was for the daemons to conquer their cities. Not when the war had drained them of both men and supplies.

No, the guard must have just grown tired from his watch and tripped in the dark. The area around you was completely still. No further sounds came from the woods around you, but neither did they come from the direction of the guard either. And though this did send a shiver of doubt coursing through you, fearing your first thought might be true, you shook it away as you clambered up from your spot. If you were under attack, there would have been a larger commotion. You would have seen and heard them coming through the forest behind you as they made their way into your camp. But you didn’t, so the more reasonable solution was that the guard had just fallen and hit his head, rendering him unconscious.

And yet, despite your confidence in the way the events had played out, you were still cautious in your approach, pulling your hood back over your head and turning the hair comb Hyunwoo had given you into a dagger. Both might have not done much against any daemon, the runes Soomin had stitched along the hem not quite powerful enough to trick a daemon, but enough to give you some protection against the humans.

“Shit!” The curse rolled0 out when you approached the scene, quickly taking cover behind a nearby tree when you saw the arrow sticking out of the guard’s chest, bringing your original fears to light.

As the panic quickly settled in, your heartbeat began to quickly increase, having no clear idea what to do in this given situation. You could see the laborious breaths of the daemon in front of you, body now outlined with a dim glow from the cloak you wore. He was dying, that much was obvious, and you knew you needed to do something before he succumbed to his wounds, but what? The area around you was still quiet, making it difficult to pinpoint the source of the attack.

You did your best to keep your breathing even, knowing one wrong move on your part would alert them to your presence - if they weren’t already aware of it - but you struggled to control it and the way your hands had begun to shake, loosening your grip on your dagger. You weren’t a stranger when it came to the battlefield, but this was not how it normally was for you. Either the combatants around you were dead or dying, or you had the safety of those who knew what they were doing around you. The last time you had been in this type of situation, your entire life had been turned upside down by the daemons, but it wasn’t the daemons who were attacking you this time around. It was the humans, it had to be them, and they would not show you mercy this time around. Not after knowing you had ultimately betrayed them in the end. 

If it came down to a fight between you and those who had shot the guard, you didn’t stand a chance, and yet, you couldn’t stay here either and just let the guard die. You had to get both yourself and him to safety further inside the camp, and you needed to warn the others, but how?

There was no way to reach out to Hongjoong and the others, not with the distance you had created earlier. And while, Hongjoong might have been able to catch snippets of the panic that had risen inside you, he would be oblivious to your situation while he was sleeping. Unless you left the guard to die and made a mad dash by yourself, you were on your own. 

The realization caused the panic to spike once more, and you silently cursed your luck. The one time you were thankful for the bond which tied you to them, and it was now closed off to you. The one time you found yourself wanting them, needing them, and they weren’t there. And the only one to blame for it all, was yourself. They had offered you protection before, but the constant guard had felt so unnecessary when you had been surrounded by soldiers. It had felt stifling then, leaving you yearning for space and privacy, and yet, here you were. In the very situation you had sworn would never happen, and completely on your own because of it.

But standing here and wishing things would be different wasn’t going to do you any good now and it definitely wasn’t going to help you save yourself or the guard either. If you wanted to get the both of you out of this situation alive, you would have to act, and do so quickly. Already the light lining his body was beginning to fade and if you stood around wasting any more time panicking, he was going to die.

Without waiting to think about it and allow your fear to stop you, you rushed out from the cover of the trees, making your way as quickly and quietly to the injured soldier as you could, and hoping whoever in the woods was human and would have a hard time tracking you with your enchanted cloak. When you reached the man, you put the blade of the dagger in your mouth, using your teeth to grip it and free up your hands so you could drag him back into the camp and take cover behind one of the tents.

Fueled by the adrenaline coursing through your veins, it didn’t take you too long to pull him away, only stopping once you were no longer out in the open. Dropping him as gently as you could manage, you grabbed your dagger out of your mouth and began tearing away his shirt to get a view of the wound.

The arrow had missed his heart, but the black veins which greeted you only fueled your fears, the way they slowly spread across his body a telling sign of the poison which had coated the tip of the arrow. Bloodsbane, a deadly poison you might have been able to properly combat if the antidote wasn’t sitting in the infirmary on the other side of the camp.

Disheartened, yet desperate to save him somehow, you went to work. The tip of the arrow hadn’t gone all the way through, leaving it still embedded inside his chest, so you eased him to his side as gently as you could manage, ushering soft reassurances under your breath as you went. Despite your panic, your hands moved on their own accord. You may have been clueless when it came to handling the previous situation or what to do if the attackers began to pursue you, but you did know exactly what to do with the daemon in front of you. You had done it hundreds, if not thousands of times before, ingraining the process inside your mind.

Your focus helped with the nerves, keeping your hands steady as they eased the shaft of the arrow further into his chest, continuing until the tip of it pierced through his back. With the tip now all the way through, you broke off both the head and the fletching at the end to allow the shaft to slide all the way through without causing any further damage. Tossing the broken arrow to the side, you took the dagger in your lap and quickly slid the blade across the inside of your wrist. A low hiss escaped at the cool sting of the blade, but you ignored it the best you could and raised it over his open wound, hoping your blood would be able to hold him together long enough for you to make a dash for the infirmary and grab the antidote you needed. Your blood might have held healing properties against physical injuries, but it could only do so much, and the poison which coursed through his veins was far beyond you. 

“What the hell is going on out here?”

You were startled at the voice that spoke up behind you, finding a daemon shuffling out of a nearby tent. He was yawning at first, only half awake as he stretched out his limbs, but the smell of blood that filled the air and your crouched figure was enough to pull him fully awake.

“Please, you need to get Hongjoong.” Your eyes were quick to notice the way his hand flew to his side, leaving the tip of a sword pointed in your direction. In an effort to alleviate the tension and convince the daemon to help, you pulled the hood of your cloak back. “He was attacked, though I do not know by whom or where they might be now. I need you to fetch me some bloodsbane antidote and alert Hongjoong to the attack.” 

“Attacked, you say?” His eyes narrowed, and you inwardly cursed at his disbelief. You knew how it looked and you knew how they might feel about you, but of all times for their prejudice to show, it had to be now? At the very moment both of your lives were in danger? “I don’t see anyone else around but the two of us.” 

“If it was me, do you really think I’d be sticking around in the open right now trying to heal him? Or asking for Hongjoong?” Your words were leadened with the frustration you felt in that moment, not just from the prejudice he showed, but fully aware the guard before you would end up dead if he didn’t do as you asked. “So, please, if you do not want this man’s blood on your hands, you need to do as I say and alert Hongjoong to what has happened and get me the anti-'' Your words cut off as the glow around his body began to flicker, signaling it might have already been too late. “Please,” your eyes raised one last time, pleading with the soldier to do as you said, “he’s dying and I can’t save him if you don’t help me.”

You were almost certain he wouldn’t listen, but after what felt like forever, his stance relaxed and the blade pointed your way was sheathed. “Bloodsbane, you say?” And upon your confirmation, he turned on his heel and was off.

There was slight relief in knowing you were no longer alone, in knowing any minute now the guard would reach Hongjoong’s tent and relay the situation to him. The weight of the situation was no longer fully on your shoulders anymore and all you needed to do was hold out for a few more minutes and everything would be just fine.

Your relief was short lived, however, as the light around his body flickered one last time before fading out completely.

“No, no, no.” You cried, unable to accept just what it meant. You reached for your dagger once more, drawing more blood and attempting to pour it down his throat this time around. “C’mon, don’t do this yet. Just a bit longer, please, and everything will be okay.”

Your hands were shaking, fingers pressing against the edge of his neck in a desperate search for the pulse that was no longer there, so focused on saving him that you didn’t notice the hand that had whipped forward and grabbed hold of your wrist until your actions had been completely rendered useless.

“What the hell?” Your eyes widened, shocked by the fact it was the soldier beneath you who had just grabbed you, and the hand which had previously been lying motionless at his side now held onto you so tightly, it was painful. Your head tilted, unable to process exactly what was happening. With the bloodsbane poison flowing through his veins, the daemon was dying, and if he were dying, his body should have been lined in white. And yet, the grip on your wrist only tightened as his eyes blinked open, no glow in sight. “How are you-”

You were unable to finish your statement, cut off by a strangled cry of your own as a burst of pain erupted inside your stomach. Tilting your head towards the source, you found the other hand of the soldier holding a dagger you had yet to notice until that moment, the blade of it now fully embedded inside you.

“Oh, shit!” It was the guard who spoke a few seconds later, eyes widening as he blinked a few times and fully took in your figure before him. His grip on your wrist loosened, and he scrambled to sit up on his own as your body began to slump on you. “Who the hell are you?”

You barely made out what he was saying, the roaring in your ears masking the majority of his ramblings. And what you did hear, didn’t make much sense. You had no idea what he was talking about or how he didn’t recognize you now, but you didn’t care. Not at this moment. Not with the amount of pain you were currently in.

“Please.” Your hands clumsily fumbled with the dagger embedded in you, knowing full well you had to get it out so your body could begin to heal itself, but your hands kept slipping on the handle, too weak and coated with blood to get a proper grip on it. 

“Stop, you’re going to make it worse.” His hands stilled your movements, the two of you slowly switching positions as he supported your sinking body. “You have to leave it in for now or you’ll risk bleeding out.” His aggressive demeanor had all but slipped away, panicking over the mess his previous action had created. “Shit! I thought you were another guard who had stumbled across the body. We had no idea there were half-daemons here with them.”

“No, you’ve got… you’ve got to get… I can’t heal.” Your head was beginning to spin, having a hard time staying focused. Even without the pain that consumed you, you wouldn’t have had any idea what was going on. On how this man was moving and speaking so easily when he should have been dead, let alone what the hell he was even talking about.

“Oh, shit. Your blood.” His grip on you lessened for a moment, finally taking in the color of your blood in the pale moonlight. “You’re… you’re the daughter of that one general… The one who was sent off to the humans. The rumors must have been true; you did survive, but how?” His gaze trailed up to your face, seeing you clearly for the first time. “We’ve got to get you out of here. Before they kill you.”

“No,” you shook your head, attempting to push off the hands that wrapped their way underneath your knees and shoulders to pick you up. “You don’t-” But you couldn’t get the proper words out, interrupted by the wave of pain that rushed through you from the way he jostled your body. “Please, get it out. I can’t…”

Angel? What’s going on?

You had never been so happy to hear that voice inside your head as you did now, quickly quelling the panic that had built up inside you.

“Hongjoong.” His name was barely more than an exhale, full of the relief you felt at hearing from him and knowing you were saved. “There was-” Once again jostled by the daemon beside you, who seemed all the more panicked at the mention of the daemon king’s name, your words cut out with another gasp of pain.

Don’t worry, angel. We’re coming.

It was Seonghwa who made it to you first, and who’s arrival you weren’t even fully aware of until you saw the black dagger sticking out of his head. The daemon’s movements quickly came to a stop, eyes widening once more at the scene in front of him before slumping to the ground.

You panicked at the arms that caught you, thinking it was one of the original attackers and attempting to struggle away from him as best you could in your current state.

“Angel, it’s me.” 

“Seonghwa.” Your head whipped around in that moment, body finally relaxing when you saw who it was. You let him take you in that moment, fully relishing in the familiar warmth of his body. 

“Angel, what happened?” His gaze fell to the dagger at your stomach, eyes darkening at the blood that coated your body and you were suddenly hit with a wave of emotions from him, ranging from a deep concern for your safety and wellbeing to a raging bloodlust to make whoever it was that had hurt you pay for their crimes. “Who did this to you?”

“Please,” your eyes pleaded with him, tugging his hands towards the handle. “get it out.” You could talk about what happened later, right now all you wanted was for the pain to stop.

To your relief, he nodded, fully understanding you couldn’t heal the injury until it was out unlike the daemon before him. He wasted no time in wrapping one arm around the bottom of your shoulders to help support your body, grabbing the handle of the dagger with his other.

“On the count of three, okay?” Another wave of emotions hit you in that instance, but they were gentler this time, attempting to help calm your nerves and ease the pain that would come as he took it out. “One… two… three.”

You couldn’t control the cry that came as he ripped the dagger out, burying your head into his chest as the pain racked your body once more. Seonghwa was saying something above you, but you couldn’t quite make any of it out.

It took a moment for your body to repair itself, but the pain eventually began to subside as you were mended. You clung to Seonghwa in that moment, too consumed by the pain consuming you to care much about how close you were or how your actions might have been received. You continued to take comfort in his presence as the pain slowly left, allowing yourself to stay burrowed next to him until your breathing slowly began to even itself out.

“Angel!” At the sound of Hongjoong’s voice, you slowly pulled yourself out from Seonghwa, turning just in time to see him collapse on his knees beside you, Jongho following shortly behind him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”  You nodded, shying away from the hands that cupped your face. Now that the pain was almost gone and you were in a better state of mind, you found yourself growing uneasy with your current state and the concern they showed you. “It’s all healed now.” And to prove your point, you lifted the edge of your shirt high enough to show the injury had been taken care of.

“What happened?” His eyes turned to the dead guard beside you, eyes darkening when he realized it was one of his own. “I thought they said we were under attack, and yet, he’s the one who hurt you? One of our own?”

“No,” you shook your head, “at least, I don’t think it was him. I’m not completely sure though, it all happened so fast.” You paused for a moment, trying to make sense of everything that had just occurred. “He was attacked, and I tried to heal him, but I failed. He died. I was certain he had died, but then…” Your words stumbled to a close, shivering as the memory of the attack flooded your mind once more. 

There had been no pulse. There had been no glow. For all extents and purposes, he should have been dead, and yet, he had moved and spoke with an ease that should have been impossible.

You slowly began to relay what had happened, starting with your reasoning for being out so late and why you had approached the daemon in the first place before moving on to the impossibility of the situation. Of how after you had believed him to be dead, he had come back to life.

“Hongjoong, you don’t think,” Seonghwa began, grip tightening against you once the story had been told in full. 

Hongjoong shook his head. “It can’t be. It’s been years since their last attack, so why would that suddenly change? The war is over.”

“Wait, who are you talking about?” Your gaze turned between the two, confused as to what they were talking about. “You know who did this?”

“During the first part of the war, there was a small militia force that would hit our smaller camps,” Jongho replied, walking over to the dead daemon and pulling out the dagger in his skull. He turned it over a few times, inspecting the blood on the blade before it dissolved in his hands. “They were the reason why Hoseok, Hongjoong’s father, had so much trouble in the beginning. Not only did we have the main force of humans to contend with, but another group proficient enough to continuously wipe out a large chunk of his camps. But when Hoseok died, the attacks stopped.”

“And you think they did this?”

“It's highly unlikely.” Hongjoong continued, pulling your attention back to him. “My father committed quite a bit of time and resources towards hunting them down, so it’s likely he found them before his own death and dealt with them himself. I’m sure it’s just a ragtag group of humans upset with the way the war ended, but you have no need to worry about it any longer. We’ll take care of it. For now, why don’t you go with Jongho. He’ll make sure a bath is drawn so you can clean yourself up and then head to bed if you so wish.”

There were a hundred questions you still wanted to ask, Hongjoong’s explanation making little sense in your mind. If it had been humans who had attacked you, why had they only shot the one soldier? And then what had happened to that solider? The actions that followed all but screamed daemon involvement, the actions that followed only possible by the magic that flowed in their veins. But if it had been the daemons, then why had he seemed so surprised to see you? And why had he been so concerned for your safety? Seemingly wanting to get you somewhere safe instead of finishing off the job he had started? 

But now was not the time to ask. Hongjoong’s statement brought awareness to your current state and the blood that covered your body. Not just your own, but the daemon’s as well, the very one you had failed to save tonight. You never did well with those who died under your care, but this one felt different, fully knowing how things might have played out differently if you had just acted a little sooner.

“And angel,” Hongjoong stopped you before you went, hand brushing against your shoulder. “Tonight was a mistake, one that we don’t plan on letting happen again, so please, forgive us for failing to do the very thing we promised.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” You shook your head, wondering why he was pinning the blame on himself. “I was the one who went out on my own, so there was nothing you could have done. If there’s anyone to blame for what happened, it’s me. I could have gotten myself to safety, but I didn’t.” 

And what had you accomplished from it? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The soldier had died all the same and you had nearly gotten yourself killed because of it.  Perhaps if you had acted faster. Perhaps if you hadn’t stalled so much, he would still be alive and none of this would have ever happened.

“So, don’t blame yourself, please.” You took a deep breath, wishing how things would have played out tonight if you had only done things differently. “My blood is on my own hands.” 

~

taglists will now be posted in reblogs. if you would like to be added, just let me know! best way to ensure this would be sending an ask as i might miss you otherwise :)

[moon--mama]

Some more ideas I have now that I’m done reading Iron Flame:

**Andarna is the seventh breed of dragon, which means Violet’s second signet might be something that no one has seen in 600+ years. What if it’s something like “purification” and she’s able to heal venin? Sort of like healing or mending, but purifying instead.

**I expect that Xaden will attempt to tamp down the reality that the earth magic is tempting like a drug. With the issues he and Violet already have in being honest, it’s going to be a wild ride that will probably lead to a breakup at some point. This series has had far too much spice and fluff to go on another three books without some turmoil. Of course, that���s not what I want to see happen, but there aren’t any rainbows without rain.

**in a breakup scenario, or even an Evil Xaden scenario, Violet knows the ultimate secret that could utterly wreck Xaden’s life. If she let it slip that he was hiding his mind reading signet, literally no one would trust him again. His leadership would absolutely be called into question. She’s not amazing at keeping secrets, so it’s only a matter of time.

**General Sorrengail’s communication before the final chapter states “we have tried every method we know of, as you requested. There is no cure. There is only control.” It’s from a random Nolon Colbersy. This leads to several thoughts. First, why was Lilith trying to cure something? Who or what was she trying to cure? Could be a venin, could have been papa sorrengail, could be herself, or could even possibly be Violet. Second, is Colbersy alive? Third, “we know of” suggests that perhaps there’s information they don’t know—in a society that has been happily deleting and omitting information for centuries, it’s likely there’s some more info out there.

**the shared dreaming about the Sage: What if the Sage was going after both Violet and Xaden on purpose, since together they’re a crazy weapon? Since they both kept having the same nightmare, and Violet kept thinking about how real it was because it kept changing subtly, it seems like a powerful venin might be able to project themselves into a dream. The dragon crew knows very little about mind powers, since they kill off most intinsics. Maybe the Gryphon riders have some answers—but if they aren’t talking to each other about their recurring identical nightmares, it’s unlikely that they will talk to other people.

**knowing Xaden can read minds makes this series suddenly more hilarious. Think about all the times Violet thought something cringey and then Xaden responded. She has thought to herself over and over “oh? I must have accidentally said that out loud.” I was even getting annoyed that it kept happening until the big secret came out, and now it’s just funny to think about.

**another sad thought about the mind reading—Xaden and Cat were betrothed. Xaden developed new powers what, three years ago? It’s hinted that he used to be in a relationship with Cat, like an actual relationship, even though he’s now completely over her and plays it down to Violet. What if there was a sudden moment when he went to see her and he was able to read her mind for the first time? That would have put a quick end to any relationship. Poor guy was probably pretty shaken up to realize that he could now pre-scan his ladies to find out why they were interested. If they were betrothed, it’s also likely that he spent a lot of time at her uncle’s house as a little kid, so there’s probably some Riorson family memories tied up in his relationship with Cat too.

**I don’t think it’s possible that Tairn’s previous rider is alive. The dragons have that telepathic link that hurts when it’s severed. Turning venin evidently doesn’t sever dragon links, since Sgaeyl seems to be freezing Xaden out (he still has signet powers, the GPS link to Violet, etc) However, I do think it’s possible that the venin general is still alive. Xaden kept watching for his body in the river and never saw it.

**is the venin magic just a gigantic glaring plot hole? Because you can’t tell me that every single infantry person wouldn’t “reach for power” if it was there and it meant saving the lives of their friends or living through a battle.

**we never actually saw what happened when Xaden “turned” venin. There might be more that was said or done. His POV cut off when he woke up from his memory/nightmare. Do we count the dream as a memory?

**At one point, Lilith said to Violet “when you become a mother” and not “if.” I wonder if this will take an “oh no we left all the contraceptive tinctures in Basgaith” turn at some point. Are Venin still people? Can they have children? Does that make the children part Venin? Maybe we will find out.

Okay that’s all for now but I’m sure more ideas will occur to me.

[honeesucker]

Pairing: ProHero!DynaMight | Katsuki Bakugo x Puppygirl!Reader

Word count: 4,244

Series Content Warnings: Slow start... Graphic Depictions of Past Abuse & Trauma Response | Profuse Usage of Pet Names / All-around Softness | Bakugo Experienced Work-Related Trauma (causing near deafness, being put on leave from the agency, PTSD) | Eventual smut™ (will be tagged in individual chapters - to include but not limited to KiriBaku, HybridxHybrid, Hybrid heat trope, sex toy usage).

Chapter Warning: just some good ole KirixBaku intimacy / softness in this one.

*Not proofread.

Previous | Next

Bakugo had spent the better part of the next three days after leaving the rescue facility overthinking everything – the layout of his apartment would need to be changed, for instance – made to be safer for a hybrid in a new environment until they adjusted, and also just add things for the hybrid to share in their new home – switching out his office to give the hybrid their own room (Bakugo read that having their own space is important from a mental health perspective, in general for anyone, even more so when healing from trauma). He had already cleared out the spare room, adjusting his own to fit the scant amount of a home office he had to leave the room bare, Bakugo wanted to make sure the hybrid could feel free to choose their own furniture, to fill the room with things they liked and wanted... wanted to make sure that whoever he brought home felt comfortable. 

Whoever, Bakugo mused, while an image of you snuggled into Kirishima made his heart clench tightly. That night he had wrapped up the tour and ended up in the common room to see the sight of you curled between his friend and the wolf hybrid... it did something to him – called to some part of him instantly in a way he had never known before... more than his innate desire to protect citizens as a Pro Hero – no, this was something deeper than that. His night was spent tossing and turning in and out of daydreams that bore your face, imagining more of a life than Bakugo knew to hope for – firstly because in his heart his greatest fear being that he wasn’t worthy of safety, of love, of comfort or anything else in a similar vein... he had been an absolute explosive shithead of a child, and while he grew from his experiences, he knew he was still as brash and sharp-edged as ever and his relationships with others over the years bore witness to that truth. The only exception being Kirishima – whose quirk hardened him to the world, and whose soft heart and unending perseverance lent him an upper hand with Bakugo... everything else after that came easy between them as it always had since they were kids, as their relationship grew and transformed into what it was today. 

Bakugo’s second fear being one that had him worrying his teeth against the skin of his bottom lip all night until the fragile skin tore, the copper taste of his blood turning his mouth sour – would you want to come home with him? He knew one of the introductory processes in the rehabilitation program was to match the hybrid with the person, and within that list of candidates was a choice: the hybrid held the final say in whether or not they wanted to be placed with whomever met the qualifications and requested their placement with them. 

Bakugo didn’t get to introduce himself to you that night, TetsuTetsu had carried your sleeping form back to your room after another ten minutes or so when the tour had ended and Bakugo had given a gentle shake to Kirishima’s shoulder. Kirishima – who observed a new look on his friend's face – watched as Bakugo watched you; his ears and cheeks were a dusty shade of pink, his eyes softer than he had ever seen them as his friend’s crimson eyes watched you disappear down a hallway.  

Bzzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzztttt. Bzzzzzzzzzztttt. 

Bakugo froze at the sound of the harsh vibration from his phone jarring the silence of his apartment and tearing him out of the hole his thoughts were digging him into. The device sat on the shelf by his entryway where he dropped it after coming in from his morning run, the gentle melodic tinkling sounds of his ringtone being drowned out by the phone’s assault of the wooden surface. He nearly blasted himself to his entryway and saw an unknown number on his caller ID, normally he would let it go to voicemail but a tug in the back of his mind was urging him to answer.  

“Hello?” Bakugo answered, and was met with a quick reply. “Yes, hello – I am calling for a Mr. Katsuki Bakugo?” 

“Yeah, you got him - whad’ya want?” Bakugo was used to randoms getting his number and was always prepared to handle anything... anything but the unexpected reply that came from the other end of this call. 

“I’m sorry to bother you Mr. Bakugo but after careful consideration I wanted to extend the good news that you have been approved for a hybrid license through the rehabilitation program and are free to come in anytime to discuss next steps.” Bakugo froze on the spot, phone nearly dropping out of his sweaty palm. “Mr. Baku-?” Bakugo cut off the query. 

“I’m here, sorry,” his mumbled reply came through, “my schedule is open. I would like to come as soon as possible.” Bakugo’s mind went blank as he made his way through the rest of the conversation on autopilot. He had an appointment the following morning to head back to the facility to begin his classes, as well as move forward in the decision of which hybrid would suit him after meeting those they gathered based on his lifestyle. 

Bakugo’s finger slipped across the screen as the call ended, typing a quick “Come over, please” to who he needed the most right now. A reply chimed backed but Bakugo didn’t look at his screen to read the message, just felt his body slip down the wall, his butt landing on the bench in his entryway. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard the melodic beeping of the keypad entry to his home being pressed and soon the door pushed opened to revealed an out of breath Kirishima. Kirishima, whose eyes went wide with worry as he made his way further into Bakugo’s home, closing and locking the door behind him before heading over to where his friend sat, pulling him up by his arm and leading him to the living room to plop down onto the large, plush couch. Kirishima seated himself behind Bakugo, who rested his head against the larger man’s chest, tucked under a massive arm. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Kirishima finally vocalized, breaking the silence as he traced gentle random patterns on Bakugos exposed skin around his neck and shoulders, occasionally bringing his hand up to card large fingers through soft blonde hair. A quiet “Mm” was the only reply he received and he just nodded, continuing to provide what comfort he could until Bakugo could settle his thoughts and speak clearly. “Did you get denied from the program?” Kirishima was afraid to ask, but he needed to help Bakugo navigate whatever feelings he was having and knowing the explosive blonde, his anxiety was eating away at him as the silence continued on. 

“No,” Bakugo finally answered. “I was approved for the hybrid license and have an appointment tomorrow to move forward with classes and introductions...” 

 “That’s great news, isn’t it Kats?” Kirishima’s tone was gentle and even, navigating a conversation when he was unsure of the blonde’s feelings; a grumble sounded against his chest with a soft vibration. “What’s got you worrying?” 

“M’scared,” Bakugo mumbled against Kirishima’s chest, “what if I never get better? What if I fuck up and cause the hybrid more trauma? If I can’t control myself and hurt them with my quirk, or yell too loud... what if no hybrid at the center wants to go home with me?” Kirishima’s head was swimming with Bakugo’s rapid-fire questions and all he could think to do was squeeze his large arms around the blonde (Kirishima knew that deep pressure therapy was helpful with some anxiety attacks) and pressed his lips against the top of the blonde’s head, drinking in the clean smell that he had come to know so well. Eventually Kirishima felt Bakugo relax in his arms fully, body going limp as each muscle, each limb, relaxed.  

“You can always ask for help when you’re doubting anything, Kats – you know I will drop everything to be there for you,” Kirishima started, going back to his earlier motion of tracing random patterns on Bakugo’s skin. “You will definitely have to be careful of how you act and react around a new hybrid, but I’m not worried about anything like you are – it's gonna work out a lot better than you think,” a gentle hum of a reply sounded, “and I’m sure you’ll find yourself surprised at how many hybrids would be happy to go home with you, and the center is super good at matching people with most unusually perfect hybrids... TetsuTetsu wasn’t my first choice, I worried over how similar we were at first but it all came together perfectly, and you’ve witnessed that,” Bakugo’s mind was still swimming, but the electrified panic that had set alight to his blood was quelled for now between Kirishima’s calm dissection of his worries, and the feel of his fingers over his skin and the steady thump thump thump of Kirishima’s heart beating rhythmically against Bakugo’s ear. 

It wasn’t long before Kirishima heard a small snore from Bakugo and smiled down at the way his face softened in his relaxed state. His mind mulling over how this intimacy between them was something Kirishima held dearly to his heart – sure they were close friends at UA, Bakugo often opening up to Kirishima more and more over the years, though nowhere near as much as he does now – actually asking for help – and they’ve also found comfort in each other physically through their natural chemistry and need for intimacy given their isolating lifestyles as they aged. Kirishima pulled the soft black throw Bakugo had draped on the back of the couch and pulled it over the blonde as he settled in, continuing to trace patterns along his back as the gentle thump of his heart and soft snores lulled him off to sleep as well. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

Kirishima awoke to the sounds of shuffling, and quiet clinks of glass when he opened his eyes to see Bakugo in the kitchen, black sweats hung low on his hips, hair still damp and lying flat around his head. Bakugo was sipped from a coffee mug as he scrolled through his phone. 

“Coffee is ready,” Bakugo mumbled out, a yawn threatening to escape as he took another sip. “Y’also didn’t have to stay with me Red, would’ve been fine.” Kirishima stretched, long limbs taking up space in Bakugo’s living room as he stood and made his way to the kitchen for the steaming coffee.  

“TetsuTetsu is with Denki, and as fine as I know you’d be you still shouldn’t have to be alone at a time like that,” Kirishima stated simply, and Bakugo appreciated it – knowing the red-haired Hero always meant what he said, never having to worry if his emotions, his worries, were too burdensome on his friend, or if he wasn’t worth the effort. Kirishima was a good person but he was also honest, didn’t waste his time or say things he didn’t mean – something Bakugo could always count on to reassure him. “Want me to go with you to the rescue facility today? I could call off patr-” before Kirishima could even finish Bakugo was shaking his head and protesting. 

“Nah,” he said, “I’ll be okay to go it alone today and don’t need you slacking on patrol either – it's shitty enough with me being out.” Bakugo’s frustration on being put on leave with light-duty was evident but Kirishima only nodded, knowing when to reply with words and when Bakugo was just looking to get something out. 

“Alright - I better get going then but shoot me a text when you wrap up and we can meet up after,” Kirishima said, stepping close to press a quick kiss to Bakugo’s temple as he set his coffee cup down on the counter behind him. “I mean it, Kats, send the damn text or you’ll find me at your door come the end of my shift.” Bakugo only snorted, cocked eyebrow and smirked as Kirishima returned the look with his own wide smile, before stepping into the entryway and grabbing his shoes and keys. “You’ll do great, Bakugo!” 

The silence that enveloped the apartment after Kirishima shut the door left Bakugo with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, the heavy lead weighing him down as he swallowed hard, rubbing his palms on his sweats as he made his way to his room to get dressed and make the drive via cab out to the rescue facility. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

It was within the hour that Bakugo found himself back in front of the large expanse of greenery and sleek architecture that was the Musutafu Hybrid Rehabilitation Center. His anxiety still a heavy weight tied to the bottom of his heart, dragging painful minutes by as he made his way through the automatic doors, and was greeted by the same employee who was there the last time he visited for his initial interview. 

“Ah, Mr. DynaMight!” The cheery voice greeted, a bright smile accompanying it. “So happy to see you back with us! The Director is waiting for you in the same conference room as last time, just down the hall there and to your left – did you need me to walk you there?” 

“Nah,” Bakugo managed, starting to turn his body. “I got it, thanks.” Hina, Bakugo recalled, was just as cheery with his short reply and waved him off as she called after him to seek her out if he needs any assistance. Bakugo found the conference room easily enough, even after years of taking damage to his head in more ways than one, his mind and memory were still sharp. Bakugo knocked twice before hearing a soft Come in, and opened the door to see the Director thumbing through some paperwork before she set it down and welcomed him in with a warm smile. 

“Mr. Bakugo, so happy to see you again so soon,” she started, motioning the blonde to take a seat opposite her. “I was just finalizing the schedule for classes you need to participate in regarding this rehabilitation program, as well as what is required by our facility’s standards to ensure our hybrids are entering the right home with the right fit in an adopter. I have sent you an email a moment ago that provides a login for you to watch most of the informational teachings we require via an online classroom where you’d still be in touch with an instructor who will go over the information provided and how it relates to your hybrid ownership as well as the few in-person classes we require here at the facility. I have also arranged for you to join us as we’re hosting an informative event today, so it’ll be good for you to see a variety of our hybrids as well as have time to interact with them and get more of a sense of what we do here as well.”  

Bakugo and the Director had an easy chat as she led him down to the other side of the building, where he recalls being last time, where they were holding the informative open house with hybrids, staff and public alike. He already heard a gentle thrum of a musical beat, accompanied by the white noise of people talking before he rounded a corner to see the brightly lit room filled with people and hybrids alike. They door to the outdoor courtyard was also open, the fresh garden air pushing in and comingling with the scent of pastries from a food table a few feet away from the doors. Bakugo swallowed, palms clamming up at the sight of so many people, but as he and the Director walked through the crown, her even stopping to speak to a few people, no one seemed to spare Bakugo more than a lingering glance before their attention was moved back to the original subject. The director bid Bakugo goodbye as she was needed elsewhere in the event, but said he could stick around and engage as much as he liked before setting off.  

What felt like an eternity, but after a quick glance at his watch only turned out to be an hour and a half, of Bakugo moving about the room, engaging with the different setups and the information they were providing – he even entered a raffle for prizes he didn’t look closely enough at the list to see – Bakugo found himself with a soft piece of sweet milk bread in his hand as he headed out to the garden to get away from the noise and crowd. 

He had just seated himself on a short stone wall, a perfect height for a makeshift bench to lounge on, and taken the first bite of his bread before he felt a small pressure against his back on the lower right side, before he heard a soft sniffling sound. His initial instinct was to blast first, ask questions later but as his palm popped and sparked with the sudden contact on his back he decided just to turn around and intimidate with looks. 

What Bakugo didn’t expect was to see you. 

You in all your tiny glory compared to him. Soft, plush tail swishing behind you slowly as you continued to nose at his jacket, unknowingly being watched with a quirked brow from the blonde, admiring the soft little points of your ears atop your head – as straight as he had ever seen ears short of those that were cropped – which yours didn’t appear to be. He wanted to reach out and touch them but didn’t want to spook you from... whatever it was that you were doing right now. 

It was with one final sniff you decided to look up, tail having picked up to wag at a faster pace before your eyes met his, and instantly your whole body went rigid. Tail frozen, eyes wide. 

“M’sorry,” it came out so fast Bakugo almost didn’t register you said a real word, “smelled like Red.” 

“Red?” Bakugo parroted, before it hit him. “Big guy, red hair?”  

You nodded slowly, wanting to take a step back from the stranger but something about the smell he gave off beneath the familiar scent of Kirishima made you stay close, taking in small huffs of air, Bakugo’s sharp eyes noticing the tiny bunny-like twitches of your nose. 

“He’s a friend of mine,” Bakugo wanted to keep this interaction going, for reasons beyond his rationality, he wanted you to stay, “he was at my house this morning so it probably still smells like him a lot, hm?” 

“Friend,” you parroted back to him while nodding, a little lost in thought. “TetsuTetsu’s’a friend of Red.” 

“You like that annoying wolf, huh?” Bakugo chuckled at the way you gave a comically flat smile with a nod. 

“Yeah, kinda decided we were friends before I did,” Bakugo just nodded, carmine eyes watching you closely as he tried to keep his pounding heart under control. 

“Sounds like him,” Bakugo muttered with a dry laugh and watched as you hopped up onto the concrete wall next to him before hopping back down onto your feet, you were going between looking at him and the ground as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, tiny little canines poking over in a way that made you look like a little cartoon vampire. 

“Can I sniff?” You finally said, and Bakugo’s brain short-circuited for a moment, not expecting that to be what came out of your mouth next. He didn’t fully know what you meant to sniff, but he simply nodded, taking any excuse to extend this meeting. Your tail gave away your emotions as it swished quickly behind you, the air making a soft whooshing noise in the fluffy fur. You stepped forward slowly before you found yourself pressing into Bakugo’s side, nosing along the front of his shift before you hit his armpit, scrunching your nose at the strong musk that surprised you with how pleasant it actually was. Bakugo stayed completely still as he eyed you, watching as you eventually made your way across the top neckline of his shirt, cold nose occasionally touching the skin of his throat, and then you did something unexpected – you picked up his hand and held his palm to your nose as well. “Hm,” was all you said every so often, sometimes quick and concise like you were confirming something, and other times it was a gentle hum like you were trapped in a faraway thought. 

“Smelling for bombs, pup?” Bakugo finally broke the silence as you turned his hand over in your own, nosing at his wrist with one final huff. You not catching onto the joke the explosive hero made because you appeared to have zero idea who he was. 

“M’not,” you said, plopping yourself down into the grass at Bakugo’s feet as you looked up at him with bright eyes, and a careful smile. “You smell like something I’ve smelled before but I can’t remember what.” Bakugo’s blood pressure nearly skyrocketing when he caught the whispered end of your comment, “smell safe.” He didn’t totally catch on to what you meant by saying that, but the fact you said ‘safe’ as a word synonymous with him, or at least his smell, made his chest puff up a little. The garden courtyard had darkened a little as the sun dipped below the roof, casting long shadows across the grass though you were still plopped in the last chunk of light.  

“Should you be back inside with everyone?” Bakugo asked, afraid that him bringing it up would cause you to leave before he was ready but he had nothing else to say that wouldn’t come off totally insane. 

“Don’t really like being around so many people,” you said, pulling fistfuls of grass up as you spoke. “Hana said it would be good for progress but if socialization means crowds, I don’t want it.”  

“Who’s Hana?” Bakugo questioned. 

“Counselor,” you said, “she’s always mine when I come back.” Bakugo stopped in his questioning tracks as that seemingly innocuous sentence hit him. When you come back. You said it so simply, like the regularity of your return was expected at this point for you. 

“Do you like coming back?” Bakugo asked, careful to treat in this unknown space with you. 

“Ah,” you eyed him sheepishly, before refocusing back on the grass you were gouging up from the ground. “I don’t mind being here because everyone is nice even when I’m not,” he watched the corner of your lips quirk up in a small smile, but your eyes looked so sad. “I would rather just stay here if I'll always end up coming back.” 

“Would you give going away another try if it happened?” Carefully. 

You eyed him, not with suspicion or anything else, just took in the way he was watching you, the careful tone of his voice. “Red has TetsuTetsu, so he can’t have me.” You said it in such a way that Bakugo was left stunned for a moment before he recognized what you were saying beneath that. 

“Would you want to go to a place where you see Red and TetsuTetsu more?” Carefully. 

He watched as your brows furrowed, taking in his question for what it was before answering, “mm, that would be nice.” 

Bakugo was going to ask one final question before both of your attentions turned to the open facility doors where a staff member was calling out for you.  

“There you are, little puppy!” The girl’s sing-songy voice grated in Bakugo’s ears but you just jumped up and dusted yourself off, the girl at the door stating it was time for your dinner, calling to the events end as well. You had turned to watch as Bakugo stood, towering over you.  

“Thank you,” you had started your walk back to the door, when Bakugo had called back what you were thanking him for, “for letting me sniff you.” 

“Anytime, Pup.” Bakugo’s heart was crashing against his chest wall as he watched you retreat inside, thinking what a weird thing to be thanked for, but the fact that he provided you with something that it seemed you wanted, he was only happy to oblige. 

He had made his way inside where the Director was saying goodbyes to some people making their way out, and directing staff to put things away a certain way before he spotted Bakugo and smiled her bright smile at him. 

“Mr. Bakugo, glad to see you still here!” She beamed, in between her interaction with Bakugo she was barking out orders like a good leader does. “Did you find anything enlightening at the event?” 

“I did,” Bakugo started, telling her all he had done that afternoon, the information that surprised him and even his impromptu raffle entry to which the Director gave a surprised smile. That made Bakugo wonder what the hell he signed up for before he caught sight of a familiar tail walking down a long hallway. “I did want to speak with you, Director,” Bakugo rushed out, nodding his head to get the Director’s attention down the hallway where you and the staff girl from earlier were. “I would like to know more about that hybrid in particular.” 

[roxiestranger19]

OBX 4 PREDICTIONS

hello only probably like 2 people are gonna see this but I gotta get these thoughts out of my head. My predictions for OBX4!!! (this is mainly gonna be about JJ and Jiara because they’re my favorite)

JJ focused season finally! He’s been my favorite character from day 1 and i’m so glad that there’s hopefully gonna be more of him this season. It looks promising from the trailer but who knows.

JJ AND KIARA!!! Yall im so excited for them to finally be together. All im asking for is one kiss in good lighting and it looks like we’ll get it.

This scene specifically has me screaming and kicking my feet already.

On the topic of jiara i think the writers are gonna make them go through everything in the book. Between Kies parents to JJs dad potentially coming back to jjs impulsivity in general.

3) This leads me to my next point on how i think the season is gonna go in terms of Jiara. In the first couple episodes i think we’re gonna rewind to the 18 month time jump and finally see them together and see them doing all the normal couple shit and it’s gonna be beautiful and wonderful. Hopefully we’ll see how they support each other through their parent drama, mainly kies.

Then I think they’re going to either get in a fight or break up whenever JJ starts being really impulsive with the money like we saw in the trailer. I also think this is where Luke’s gonna come in if he does make an appearance. I think Luke is gonna guilt JJ into giving him money and JJs gonna come to some agreement with him. JJs either gonna not tell kie about it and it’s gonna cause a blowup when she inevitably does find out or she’s gonna know from the beginning and advise JJ not to help Luke but he does it anyway. This is gonna go back to the self sabotaging topics from season 3 and how JJ just can’t realize that his dad is a piece of shit and Kies gonna give him the ultimatum of either her or his dad which he’s then not gonna be able to choose.

If Luke isn’t the reason for a Jiara fight then I believe it will be because of his impulsivity with his life and the money. We saw in season 3 that JJ is willing to sacrifice himself for the good of the group and that’s where the dirt bike racing is gonna come in along with gambling and betting the money. (Bonus points if someone tells him “you’re just like your dad”) This is the point that I feel has the strongest amount of evidence because in the teaser we saw the races and JJ and John Bs conversation on how they have everything to lose now. We also know from the trailer that JJ spent the last of their money so he feels the need to earn it all back himself in the fastest way possible which would be betting on winning the race. Also if Rafe is his competition this is more reason for him to bet everything on the race. I’m gonna guess he does not win the race which is then why they agreed to take on the black beard case.

This then brings us up to date after the 18 month time jump to the ceremony and my previous reasons for Jiara fighting would check out with why JJ and Kie were being so awkward at the ceremony.

Anyways JJ is gonna kinda take the lead with the case because again, he feels like he owes it to the rest of the group since he spent the last of their money and/or gambled it away. He also might think that this could win kiara back although that most likely won’t be the case since all kie wants is for JJ to realize that he matters and she loves him no matter what he has or doesn’t have.

I think that this scene is gonna be Kie explaining these things to JJ. Also as much as i want this scene to be full Jiara lovey dovey steamy shit, i don’t think that will be the case. I actually would be just as happy if this was a “there was only one bed” trope because the rest of the pogues are coupled off and who knows maybe this will lead to a kiss or cute cuddling moment, either way i’ll be happy.

I think that the rest of the season will be filled with angst and tension from JJ and Kie because they clearly are obsessed with each other and can’t just turn off their feelings. I think this will be way more interesting than if they stayed coupled up all season because their whole relationship is fiery banter and let’s face it, John B and Sarah’s relationship is boring compared to Jiara because there’s no drama or fire. Also think about all the protective JJ moments we can get from this especially the scuba scene?! Or when it comes to Rafe. We saw in the teaser that JJ punches Rafe with Kiara in the background. Plus with them “supposed” to be broken up or fighting, but unable to stay away from each other both internally and externally bc everyone else in the group is paired together, we’re gonna get a bit of “forbidden romance” and longing looks and jealousy and tension galore which is gonna make every scene with them together electric. I have no idea how their relationship is gonna end up at the end of the season but i hope they’ll be back at where they were at the beginning during the time jump.

4) In terms of the ending and the other bits and pieces i honestly have no idea where it’s gonna end. I want to say they win and solve the blackbeard case but they have a pretty bad track record with that. Also depending on how many more seasons the show has left is a big component in this. I don’t think the show could go past a fifth season. Also don’t know where the scenes with JJ breaking windows and destroying things fits in. It appears to be in the OBX but who knows.Living for those moments though. this is probably another reason why Jiara breaks up. Could have to do with Rage and Topper or his dad but i have no idea. Maybe Barry is coming for him because JJ did steal from him and Barry used to sell to Luke.

5) Rafe and Topper

don’t have a single clue how they’re gonna fit into this after the 18month time jump. We only really saw them in the OBX or at the bike race. I guess there’s potential for them wanting to get in on the blackbeard case but i don’t really see it tbh. I’m guessing they’re gonna have a separate plot from the pogues or it’s just gonna be slightly related through sarah or something.

6) THE BOMB Here are my different guesses for what this could mean.

JJ dies. this seems to be what everyone thinks but i really don’t see this happening. i don’t think Rudy hates OBX as much as everyone thinks he does i think he just gets caught at the wrong times and everyone reads into it. If they do write him off though i will never forgive them it literally wouldn’t make sense it would destroy me. and it better be a damn good death and be actually really sole crushing and good writing. giving jj a good death would be the least they can do if they choose to go this.

JJ and Kie break up. As i said before i actually think this would make sense for them but i do think it would come to a shock to many people hence them saying that a “bomb is gonna drop on them”

Luke comes back. Again like i said this is pretty likely especially since there’s a leaked picture with luke and JJ in it. In terms of it having huge effects on Jiara, this depends on JJs decisions.

JJs mom. Maybe he suddenly figures out a way to find her or something else i literally have no idea

Rafe and Kiara. Can’t see kiara cheating on JJ. Maybe we finally get to see what happened during kies kook year. Don’t see how that would affect Jiara now though.

Kies parents. Might’ve had more of an impact on their relationship during the 18months but i can’t imagine that’s the reason for something blowing up between them after that since they don’t care about their opinion

time for my really crazy theories

pregnancy. kie getting pregnant would be a bomb. don’t imagine the writers doing this because it’s just not that type of show but it would make things interesting. especially if she finds out while they’re broken up or fighting, it would add a lot more tension and jj would be a lot more protective of her.

Luke and Anna. in season 2 luke mentions something about knowing anna. Always thought that was an interesting point. Maybe they had something going on in high school and when JJ and Kie figure that out if kinda deters them and makes them question a lot. idk these are crazy.

jj and sarah share a mom. always liked this theory. think it has possibility but very unlikely. don’t think this would relate to the plot very much or impact Jiara.

anyways that is all. If you read all the way through this i appreciate you.