#i am this close to just. snapping. screaming at people who don't deserve it.

[hylianengineer]

You ever just feel your sanity starting to split at the seams?

And then look at the heap of stuff you still have to get through before you're allowed to rest and just... wonder how many breakdowns you're gonna have before you get a break?

[pileofmush]

you don't know what i deserve .·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.

ft. okkotsu yuuta

it’s 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. you're on your own—just you and the dead body.

info : ̗̀➛ tags: gn!reader, neighbor au, strangers to lovers, yuuta & reader are a little strange, happy ending // cw: death, light angst, vulgar language, canon-typical violence...but pretty mild imo

thoughts : ̗̀➛ helllooo. back on my bullshit. let's call this a very belated birthday present to my beloved <3 // read this on ao3

wc : ̗̀➛ 5.1k

The human body contains a shit ton of blood. 

Which is not something you think about often, but now you are forced to confront this fact in real-time. People… have a lot of blood.

And it stains. No matter how many times you wash your hands. There are still flakes of blood wedged underneath your fingernails. Part of you thinks it'll never go away.

...And then there's Sailor Moon.

“I am the pretty guardian who fights for love and justice! I am Sailor Moon! And now, in the name of the moon, I’ll punish you!”  

Cue trumpets and flashy poses; the makings of a battle. Your comfort anime blares in the background of a morbid scene, the flickering TV casting a soft glow on a sight that will inevitably haunt your nightmares. 

Because it's 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. Still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. You pace in your tiny living room, unsure of what to do, of how to proceed. The pretty Sailor Guardians won’t save you now. You’re on your own. Just you and the dead body.

How romantic.

The chill from outside has swept into your apartment thanks to that annoying fucking prick who left your window open. Honestly, people these days have no decency. The least he could’ve done was close your shutters after tumbling through your bedroom window like a deranged acrobat. Now you’re, like, moderately cold. 

“What a fucking mess,” you sigh.

Blood seeps into the earthy Persian rug that you got for half-price at a flea market a few months ago. It’s dark; puddling, like... like a knocked-over glass of chocolate milk, spilled all over the kitchen table. Or, maybe chocolate syrup would be more apt. It doesn’t matter, though. You can always get a new rug. You know, if you make it out of this situation of yours intact and not in a dingy prison cell for homicide.

Hmm. You might be sorta kinda screwed. 

The police, of course, are out of the question. No matter your side of the story, it wouldn’t hold up in trial. No, no, no. A foreigner murdering a Japanese citizen? Even if it was in self-defense, it wouldn’t matter. Forget prison—you’ll probably be hanged.

So, you could run… But you probably wouldn’t get far. Or, you could do what every naive murderer in the movie about karmic retribution does and try your darnedest to get away with it.

“Option two it is!” you quit pacing and announce to the room. Thankfully, the body doesn’t respond.

A weak knock at the door sounds off—a gunshot. Your heart stalls, your head snapping to the entrance of the apartment. Who the hell is at your door? The person at the door knocks a second time, a little bit more insistently, and you start to sweat. “Hello, is everything alright? I—I heard a scream.”

You step up to the peephole and squint. A mild-looking man shuffles his feet outside your door. It’s your next-door neighbor, bathed in the ugly yellow lighting of your apartment complex. He smiles like he knows that you can see him. 

This… isn’t ideal. You could choose to not answer him, but that probably wouldn’t work. What if he called the police? You take a breath. “Everything’s fine,” you call out.

The man’s smile freezes in place, somehow more eerie than a frown; his hands burrow deeper into his pockets. “Oh!” he says. “Are… Are you sure?”

You turn away from the peephole, a little unnerved. “Yeah, why?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude, but I heard a lot more than a single scream.”

A slow, dreadful feeling starts to seep into your gut. “Pardon?” 

There’s a pause. You swallow.

“These walls are thin.” 

Fuck. He knows. Oh God, he knows. 

No—that’s impossible. You were the only one to scream. Yasuhiro… He didn’t get the chance to. So this is just a concerned neighbor checking in on you. Nothing more, nothing less. You can prove it, prove that you’re okay.

You open the door a smidge so that you can peek through, then step outside and shut the door behind you. Your neighbor, what’s his name again? Okkotsu, right? Okkotsu’s brows lift at the sight of you, then relax. He’s wearing a plain white tee and a pair of grey sweats that should probably be criminal in Japan. His eyes flicker up and down your frame. You suppress a shiver.

“Just a horror movie,” you broach, offering him a polite smile. “I’m an easy fright.”

Okkotsu pulls a hand out of his pocket to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. His gentle smile has dimmed. “I’m not sure I believe you,” he says in an apologetic tone.

You both notice the tremor that runs through your body. Nosy fucking neighbors and their lack of sense when it comes to minding their own business. You stare mulishly at the floor. His shoes are simple. Black; scuffed. His left foot taps once against the floor. Whatever. You don't have to answer to him. Gathering up your resolve, you start to speak. “Listen, Okkotsu-san,” you say but are cut off quickly.

“Is that blood?” 

That makes you freeze, eyes glued to the floor. A cold set of fingers dips under your chin and gently lifts it. Your gaze meets his: two pools of an endless, starless night. It flickers to a spot beside your ear knowingly and you reach for it. 

He’s right. Blood sticks to your fingers, not yet dry. Lurking in the crevice behind your ear. You missed a spot.

“Well spotted.” It’s fruitless to lie now. You know it, he knows it. Now it’s a matter of who’ll crack first. 

“Are you… Are you injured?”

Physically? No. Psychiatrically? Well, you just murdered a man, so.

“I’m unharmed.” 

Okkotsu blinks owlishly. “Is that so?” He murmurs curiously, tilting your head to the side to observe the blood staining your skin. 

You readjust your head and mimic him, blinking slowly. “Okkotsu—”

“Yuuta,” he interrupts. 

You blink again. For such a mild, polite-seeming boy, he really is quite rude. And confusing. And terrifying. And you kinda sort of want him to die. “Okkotsu-san” you repeat. “I think it’s best if you leave.”

Okkotsu Yuuta’s smile returns, and it’s dangerously innocuous. He breathes your name out like a question. Starless eyes wander to your front door, then go back to studying your own. “Can I come inside?” he asks, quietly. 

Everything stills, even your heart. You’re not quite certain you’re alive, when you ask, dubiously, “The apartment?” 

Okkotsu just smiles.

You let Okkotsu come inside.

Which is absolutely fucking insane, but you have a feeling that your neighbor’s worse off than you are, and that’s truly saying something. 

You hear him lock the door behind you before you start. Silently, you lead him past your living room, past Tsukino Usagi flying down the sidewalk on the way to school—the start of another episode, then—past your browning house plant hanging from the ceiling, into your quaint kitchen. 

It’s nothing special. A small green stove with two bunsen burners on top. A sink; limited counter space. A couple of peeling cabinets. Tied in together with a white backsplash, shifting colors with each flicker of the TV. To the side, a small table sits, with two mismatched chairs tucked into it. 

Oh, and there’s the dead body, too. Practically dribbling blood, painting your discounted rug muddy red and the surrounding blue tile purple. 

Okkotsu lets out a soft sigh. “What a mess.”

You consider him from the corner of your eye. “That’s what I said,” you frown.

He shrugs, still looking at poor, dead, Yasuhiro. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” 

Yeaaaah. It’s true.  

A giggle escapes you, the reality of the situation finally hitting you. “Fuck,” you whisper in between the giggles. “I’m fucked.” It’s true. Utterly and thoroughly—no condom used. 

“Not yet,” you barely hear him say over the fracturing of your composure. This is impossible. You killed a man tonight, then showed a stranger the corpse. You’re an idiot. You’re a freak. You can’t hide a dead body. You really might as well bend over and get it over with. Fuck.

Hands gripping your knees, you struggle to catch your breath. When did you lose it? Ah, who cares? Dead. You’re dead. The noose is looped around your hollowed throat, tightening by the second. Perhaps there’ll be two corpses on your kitchen floor by the time the sun is up. Perhaps you should’ve just let him kill—

“Breathe with me,” Okkotsu mutters, right in front of you, long hands gingerly clutching your shoulders. Which is strange. You had no idea he got so close. His thumbs swipe up and down, around and around, and you are flummoxed. But Okkotsu is patient, his chest compressing and expanding with each measured breath, and you are compelled to follow him. Slowly, you come down from your panicked high. You let out a shaky breath, eyes sliding back to the imposing guest in your apartment. The other imposing guest in your apartment.

The body in front of you lays eerily still, impervious to your mini breakdown. It’s not purple, or rotting, or excreting out the last remaining fluids left in its underwhelming husk. It’s just—laying there. Laying, not lying, because it is no longer a breathing thing that rests; now an object to be placed. Dehumanized, in every way. Then again, what is dehumanization if not just another word for murder? What is murder, if not just the taking away of a person’s autonomy? Dead bodies can’t rest. It will never lie again. 

The dead body lays.

And you wonder for how much longer you’ll keep your own autonomy.

When do the dead start to attract flies? Realistically, you know it can range from a day to a few days for a decomposing body to become…obscene, depending on the environmental conditions. It hasn’t even been a few hours. You doubt flies will start buzzing around any time soon. If you move to crouch down and touch it, it’ll probably still be warm.  

The swipe of a thumb over your shoulder brings your awareness back to your neighbor. 

“Why are you helping me?” You ask, wiping the tears that have beaded up in the corners of your eyes. Your breathing is steadier now, but you’re still trembling. That damn window is still open. 

The hands on your shoulders release, and you look up to gauge his thoughts. He’s frowning. His eyes cloud, then sharpen: lightning against a black sky. “You need to get rid of the body, don’t you?” It’s a rhetorical question, but you nod anyway. 

“Then we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. I bet we’ll be done before dawn.”

He makes to walk away but you stay rooted to your spot, trying to figure out why this strange, strange neighbor of yours who makes friends with stray cats and tends to the apartment garden is willing to become an accomplice of murder for you. 

“Okkotsu, are… Are you in love with me or something?” 

Your neighbor stops, then snorts, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He turns back to face you. A soft pout lies on his lips as he skillfully evades your question with a request of his own. “Hey, if you’re gonna ask me something like that, why don’t you use my name next time?”  

You don’t ask again.

You have far bigger problems than interrogating Okkotsu Yuuta, so you push it aside and stalk toward the body. Okkotsu joins you, and the two of you peer at the deceased man before you. It’s… Still. The blood has stopped its puddling; a thin line stretches the column of its throat. His throat was slit neatly, gracefully, like an act of love. It wasn’t one, but, maybe you gave Yasuhiro what he wanted, in a terrible, twisted way. How magnanimous of you. 

Yasuhiro wasn’t an attractive man. Limp brown hair framing a slightly uglier-than-average face. At least he had the decency to close his eyes before his last, dying breath. They were blood-shot and wiry, the last time you saw them open. Bouncing haphazardly in its sockets like they couldn’t discern which corner of the room you stood in.  

Okkotsu perks up at the sound of your harrumph. “What?” he questions you, and you slide your eyes over to him. Okkotsu Yuuta is distinctly pale, a trait that you’ve always noticed and have always sort of admired on him. It suits the subdued, yet haunted look he’s got going on. Black lashes feather the whites of his eyes, as well as the endless void of his irises. Yeah, he’s almost doll-like, in that gentle, haunting way of his. 

“You’re creepier than the corpse,” you tell him instead and turn away, just barely hiding your smile. The laugh that rings out from him sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard. 

Just kidding. It actually sounds kind of sweet.

Okkotsu follows you to the bathroom, where you’ve grabbed pretty much all of your cleaning supplies. You stuff them in a bucket and he hauls it out of your arms, the two of you shuffling back to the kitchen. 

“So how should we go about this?” You muse, staring at the body. The movies you’ve seen are the only reference you have for the disposal of dead bodies, but those usually end with the killer getting caught, so you’re not so sure about mimicking their methods. 

“I’m not sure,” Okkotsu says, tilting his head in thought. “Severing his limbs without the proper tools would be difficult. I guess we could carry him and bury him somewhere unassuming—unless you have a car that we could use?” A quick glance at you confirms that you don’t. He rubs his chin, nodding to himself. “Right. A garden cart will do, then. We should check to see if he has any identifiers on him, first, though. Oh, and we can’t forget about the teeth. Do you have any pliers?” He turns to you casually, eyes widening at the sight of your awe. 

Thin black brows furrow in confusion. “What?” He asks.

You blink. “Have you…ever…?” Your voice dies in your throat.

Thankfully, he gets it. “Oh. No! No, I’ve never murdered a person,” he denies, dipping his head and tugging the neckline of his plain white tee. A curious look crosses his face. “But I could,” he tacks on cautiously.

You hug your arms and give a half-assed shrug. You can almost feel the weight of a kitchen knife in your dominant hand; the quick, fluid motion of ending a life. 

“Anyone could,” you acquiesce, dismissing the conversation. Okkotsu hums mournfully in return. 

According to his ID, Yasuhiro Souta is a twenty-seven-year-old male who lives in Chiba. What he was doing tumbling through your window in the middle of the night is anyone’s guess. Well, he did tell you, sort of shakily before he made to lunge at you, that you were supposedly his Valentine for the night. How sweet!

Snip. You met him for the first time a little over two months ago. He dropped his wallet on the train, so you picked it up and handed it to him in a silly attempt to be a decent person. It resulted in the man refusing to let go of your hand for a solid five minutes. Yes, yes, what an adorable meet-cute! Snip. When you managed to pry your clammy hands out of his vice-like grip, it was your stop, and, oh, how fortuitous, it was Yasuhiro’s as well! He followed you off the train into a random coffee shop, and it was only when you got the help of the employees that he backed off, the doorbell chiming as the glass door swung behind his back. Snip.

You thought that was the end of it, and proceeded about your day, running errands for a few hours until you retreated home. It shook you up for a little, yes, but it was nothing too crazy. You doubted you’d ever see him again. 

Snip.

You slice Yasuhiro’s ID with your scissors until it’s a pile of ashes. 

Okkotsu’s on his knees, holding a pair of pliers to the light. Wedged between the metal lies a crooked tooth. He hums to himself, plopping the tooth in a ziplock bag. He wears a pair of green garden gloves he grabbed from his apartment; you’re wearing a matching set. The rubber’s a little too big for you, but you’re making it work.

It's as Okkotsu calmly adjusts the head in his lap, preparing to yank another tooth that you stare at your strange partner, wondering how in the hell you got yourself into this situation. It’s been happening every so often: your acceptance of reality swinging in the opposite direction like the pendulum on a grandfather clock. 

You shouldn’t have killed him.

You don’t care for Yasuhiro Souta’s life. You don’t care for the man who intended to assault you. But there’s not a chance in hell that this won’t get traced back to you. 

You're fucked.

Why did it have to be like this? Why do bad things happen to good people?

That’s the way the cookie crumbles, darling.

And you crumble—crumbled—are crumbling when you turn to your neighbor. “Okkotsu-san,” you say, picking at your dirty nails.

“Yuuta,” the man insists. What a freak. He's a freak, and he's good, and you don't deserve it.

You take a deep breath, mulling over your doomed fate. It doesn’t have to be his, too. “You should get out of here. While you still can.”

There's an awkward pause. The strange man pulls out another tooth and plops it in the baggy. “There,” he says warmly, then draws to his full height. “Do you have a coffee maker?” You ball your fists around the plastic handle in your hands. Calm, calm, stay calm. “Did you hear what I just said?” You ask. 

“Oh, I did,” Okkotsu hums. “I chose to ignore it.”

Your hands begin to shake as you repeat his words. “Ch—Chose to—” 

Okkotsu says your name pityingly. “I thought we already had this conversation," he questions with pinched brows. “Why are we—”

“We?!” You interrupt, incensed. We. It's as if the curtains have been drawn open, allowing the rays of the illuminating, scorching sun to trickle through. It blinds you, and you have the urge to pull your eyes out and shove them down his throat. “You thought we? Who are you? You don’t know a damn thing about me!”

“I think I know a few things about you,” Okkotsu smiles sweetly, gesturing to the dead body in your apartment.

“Do you, now?” You laugh and toss your hands up to the ceiling. “Great! I have an idea!" You glare, the metal edge of your scissors catching the light. "If you know what I’m capable of, then you should get the hell out." 

A pause. You pant, more worked up than have been all night and it's fucking ridiculous and you hate it. You want to choke—you want him to choke. On your blood-soaked fingers, preferably. He'd probably lick them clean. 

Unaware of your depraved thoughts, Okkotsu’s lips pull into a frown. He sighs, running a ghostly hand through his hair.

“I’m not scared of you,” he tells you, quietly.

You hold your breath. “Maybe you should be.”

Your insufferable neighbor takes a step forward, that stupid frown still on his stupid doll face. “What’s your plan?” He prompts. “Do you intend to confess? To go to prison?” You shake your head slowly and he softens. “You don’t deserve that,” he says, like he really means it.

Why did you let this man into your house? Why is he offering you hope? It’s too much. The scissors slide out of all your fingers save for one; your limbs sag with a weariness that’s settled deep in your bones. 

“You don’t know what I deserve.”

Okkotsu stops and considers you. Your chest heaves, your heart pounds, and you want out. You want out, and he can get out, and you don’t know… You don’t know why…

“If you want me to judge you, I won’t,” says Okkotsu. 

You shake your head at his dismissal, your eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t judge you,” he continues, and there goes his cold, calloused hand again, gingerly tilting your chin upwards. The pair of scissors in your clutches drops fruitlessly to the floor. When you look up, there’s something like pleading in his endless, starless eyes. “Trust me,” he begs. 

You shouldn’t. You know it with every fiber of your being that you should not trust Okkotsu Yuuta. The man who blinks like an owl and stares at you like you’re a mouse he can’t wait to swallow whole. Who blushes pink whenever you hold the elevator door for him. Who has cold fingers that cradle you so gingerly—who touches you like he knows you—who doesn’t cringe at the sight of dead bodies but gives a damn about a bit of blood staining the outside of your ear. 

You shouldn’t. Trust him. But you—you feel as if he’s reached inside your chest and plucked out your pulsing, blackened heart. 

“Do you love me?” You ask Okkotsu Yuuta again, heart throbbing in his hand.

His eyes don’t stray from yours. “Ask me again with my name,” he says quietly. 

…You don’t know if you want to. 

Releasing a breath, you push past him, snatch the ziplock bag from the floor, and stride towards the stove. “I’ll make coffee,” you say, already fiddling with the grinder.

Okkotsu lets you depart with a sigh.

“So what do you like to do when you’re not helping random people bury bodies?” You ask Okkotsu a couple of hours later. You stumble over a root in the dark, and Okkotsu’s quick to grab you by the waist and steady you. You continue, a bag full of your keys, water, pepper spray, freshly-bleached gloves, a burner phone that Okkotsu already had, for some reason, and two sets of clean clothes swinging against your back. You fidget with the shovel in your hands mindlessly, trying to get it to spin. A garden cart with a tarp draped over it creaks along the grass floor. The two of you have walked for who knows how long, but, according to him, you’re getting close. 

The man beside you hums, surprisingly chipper for the nefarious activities afoot. “When I’m not busy, I like to garden and crochet. I also like making food for my friends from time to time,” he says in a simple, humble manner. The last part doesn’t surprise you. He’s brought you helpings of food on the most random occasions, showing up at your doorstep with self-proclaimed “leftovers” and shoving full plates into your arms with a velvety smile. That does beg the question, though…

“Have you considered us friends this whole time?” You squint at him in the dark, only the moonlight carving out the contours of his subtle, delicate features. You’re kind of surprised. You two made decent neighbors but only ever talked in short bursts outside your rooms. Your conversations rarely ever broke past polite mumblings about the weather.  

Okkotsu pouts. “You mean, we’re not friends yet?” He asks, before breaking into a twinkling laugh. 

“Shut up,” you bite, but you laugh too, lightly shoving at his arm. Okkotsu, bless him, pretends to stumble. It takes you a moment to suppress the heat burning the tips of your ears, but you do get it under control, eventually. “I meant… Before?”

His expression smoothens out before he gives a soft shake of his head. “No, not quite. But, I wanted us to be."  

It’s quiet for a moment, nothing but the rustling under your feet and the ever-present, cacophonous sounds of nature. You spot a nest of sleeping birds tucked in between the branches of a tree and smile.

“Well,” you try to keep your cool, eyes sweeping over the forest's shadows, “Better late than never.”

It strikes you halfway to the burial grounds that Yasuhiro didn’t bring his phone with him to your apartment in his depraved, intoxicated state. He crawled up a tree, through your cracked-open bedroom window—conveniently avoiding cameras. So, once you’re done with this, you very may well be free.

It’s a terrifying notion, freedom.

“What about you?” Okkotsu asks you, something like ten minutes later. “What do you like to do for fun? Besides watch Sailor Moon, I mean.”

You bite your lip to keep from grinning. “Well,” you wonder aloud. “This is pretty fun, wouldn’t you say?” 

Okkotsu lets out a little breath before he softly admits his agreement. 

It rained earlier today, you forgot. The ground crumbles like clay when you swing the shovel into the ground. You and Okkotsu take turns making a grave, taking water breaks in between. There is hope alive in you, you realize, as the two of you work in tandem.

Yasuhiro Souta is lowered into the ground with all the dignity a dead man could possess. He lays atop a tarp and your old Persian rug. A stream rushes somewhere nearby, bubbling like blood, and you pray that the body will make good fertilizer. When your hand shakes, Yuuta grabs it. 

You bury your clothes on the way back, a mile out. The sun peaks over the horizon.

When you return to your room with Yuuta in tow, your emotions overwhelm you: you are terrified and gleeful and sorry for all you’ve done. 

It is mournfully quiet as you mop the purple tiles blue, bleach burning your nostrils and freshly scrubbed gloves. Yuuta’s left to clean the garden cart in the gardens. He returns shortly, though, offers you a small smile, and helps you scrub every inch of your apartment. 

You scrub, and scrub. 

And scrub.

“You’re beautiful,” Yuuta says to you when you’re in the middle of wiping your brow. You’re sitting cross-legged on your rugless kitchen floor, where a dead body once lay. Sweat clings to your skin in uncomfortable places and you reek of bleach. “Shut the fuck up and scrub, Yuuta,” you command. 

Yuuta’s serene smile is unparalleled to anything you’ve ever seen before.

You could probably fall in love with him, you contemplate as you watch your neighbor make fluffy pancakes in the comforts of his own kitchen. If you haven’t fallen in love with him, already, that is. You doubt you’ll ever have a connection with someone as profound as the bond you share with the soft-spoken man who helped you bury a dead body. 

Love, you marvel, in the span of a few hours.

It’s disquieting. 

After multiple showers, and after Yuuta’s stuffed you with more pancakes than you can chew, the pair of you are lounging on his tatami mat, a much-needed change in scenery. You have like, three hours before you need to go to work, which, Yuuta agrees, is crucial to maintaining a veneer of normalcy. Which means this impromptu nightmare date will have to come to an end—as all good things do.

“I should probably get to bed,” you say after a lull in conversation.

Yuuta nods, reasonably. “That makes sense, yeah.” 

“Got work in the morning and all that,” you continue in a nonchalant tone.

“Make sure your window’s locked.”

Fine. “Walk me out, will you?” You request. Okkotsu Yuuta, ever the gentleman, agrees, even though the front door is only a handful of feet away. He pushes himself off his knees and stands at full height, though his starless eyes are, as always, trained on you. You would probably find Yuuta’s full attention a little unsettling if you had not just slit a man’s throat that night. 

You avoid his gaze all the same—stopping at his doorstep with your hands twisting at your sides. Yuuta stops beside you and waits patiently for you to string your words together. 

You clear your throat. “Hey, um—”

“Hi,” Yuuta interrupts, and you smile, filled with the courage to go on. 

“So, the thing is… Well, I probably wouldn’t have made it anywhere far without you. I acted quite amateur back there, you’d think this was my first dead body I was trying to hide, or something, ha. Um, so yeah, thank you—from the most sincere and vulnerable depths of my heart. I guess I’ll see you around? Okay, bye.”

A hand wraps around your wrist before you can run home with your tail tucked between your legs. Yuuta murmurs your name in a soft, dulcet tone, and you’re not certain you’re prepared to hear whatever he has to say. You turn to face him anyway, because, well, you owe him that much.

“Yes?” 

“Don’t you have something to ask me?” He chides.

The pit in your stomach swoops. “Not that I recall,” you lie with a straight face.

“Try again,” Yuuta smiles sweetly, like a haunted little doll.

“It’s been a long day, you know—” 

“Cold, I’m afraid.”

“My brain isn’t functioning at its peak—” 

“Hmm, getting colder!”

“I don’t think I can.”

A pause. You avert your gaze and allow yourself to get analyzed by Yuuta’s doleful, starless eyes. “Hey,” he calls your name, asks you to look at him. 

You look at him.  

“Good," he hums.

You roll your eyes, loop an arm around his long neck, and drag him to you. 

Okkotsu Yuuta tastes like the earth. From dust to dust, you are at the end and beginning when you capture his lips between yours. He responds quickly, hands digging firmly into your waist as he knocks you into his door frame, and you quickly learn what it means to be savored. You intended the kiss to be a quick, rash, thing, but he slows you down, melds into you languidly like you have all the time in the world. When he sucks on your bottom lip, you both moan, breaking apart for air. Yuuta slips his hands underneath your shirt, and for once, his cold hands burn, lighting the fire for something you’re not certain you’ll be able to finish. 

“Go ahead and ask me already, love,” Yuuta murmurs into your ear. And, well, fuck. You melt. “Yuuta,” you whisper as he nips at your neck. “You love me, yes?” 

At that, he bites down at the hollow of your neck. You gasp, then sigh when he instantly cools the wound with his tongue. “Obviously,” he replies, quite simply, thumb swiping delicately at your stomach. 

“Great,” you gasp, and Yuuta looks at you and beams. 

And, there goes your heart again, pulsing in his cold, calloused hands. Cradle it gently, Yuuta, won’t you?

fin. if u made it this far, ily

[itsascreambaby96]

Eddie Munson as Ghostface? With Reader?

Halloween pranks turned into fun time in the bedroom?

Warnings: 18+, mdni!!!!! Everyone is over 18. Knife play! Mentions of murder (no one gets killed) Oral (male recieving), this is pure smut. Plot? I don't know her. P in v sex. Bit mean!Eddie (just a tiny bit). If I missed anything let me know.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A/N: Hehe my love that is a brilliant idea. And I am honoured to write my first Eddie piece for you😁 you know this was the final push to write that piece we were talking about a few weeks ago🤭 is this my favourite thing ever? Yes. Yes it is😌

Also applications for a boyfriend or girlfriend to do this with me are still open😅

It's a scream baby!

Eddie has been teasing you with his stupid mask all month already. And you were only half way through October. Giving you creepy calls, asking you about your favourite scary movie, which ended in hot telephone sex. Jumping out from behind the fridge, which led to Eddie hitting it from behind over the kitchen counter. Or jumping from behind a door, which ended in sex against the wall. Or jumping out of your wardrobe, which led to sex on your bed. There was no limit for him. Not like he didn't get to scare and kill people. He did. He just loved making you jump.

Of course you knew he was the famous Ghostface killer. It wasn't hard to figure out considering your High School bully wound up dead, a day after you told your boyfriend Eddie about what happened back then. You weren't sorry for them. It's what they deserved. It was also kinda hot and you might or might have not had the best sex after he admitted it. Of course he was wearing the mask, who might still have had some blood on it.

Eddie knew you had a thing for Slashers. The way you always look at them when you two watched a horror movie was a tell tale sign. And he was so excited about the thing he had planned. In his head is was coming together perfectly.

You found a part time volunteer job for the corn maze in Hawkins. The uniform wasn't much, basically just a vest and the rest were your own clothes. It was pretty chill most days. You only had to call someone 4 times yet cause some people got lost.

Today had been a quiet day and it was closing time. Your co worker left you to do the final round alone because he had an important date apparently and it couldn't wait. He was an asshole anyway so you were glad he was gone.

With your fleshlight in hand you went through the maze. You knew every path by now. It wasn't completely dark yet but having the flashlight gave you a bit of safety.

You had a weird feeling going in but it was probably nothing. You were almost finished now, already making your way back and you still couldn't shake that weird feeling. Like your were being watched and followed. Looking behind you, you saw nothing. You were going just a tad quicker just in case.

And then you heard it, a twig snapped behind you and you froze. Someone was definitely behind you. It was darker now but you didn't need your fleshlight to see who was behind you. The white mask reflected the moonlight. Black empty eyes kept looking at you. You let out a breath, fairly certain that it was Eddie. Who else would it be? Though in this town you could never be too sure.

So you said "Fuck Eddie you almost gave me a heartattack!"

Ghostface tilted his head slightly. Fuck those eyes didn't give anything away.

"I am not Eddie." You gulped at the deep modulated voice. You know it was him. 99.99% sure. But to pretend he was just a nameless killer? It kinda rilled you up.

"Oh you wanna play psycho killer? Can I be the helpless victim? Ok let's see. No please don't kill me Mister Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel." You looked at him with fake innocent eyes.

You could hear Eddie snicker and you were relieved you were right.

"You better run fast, princess. If I catch you, it's over for you." That same deep voice spoke again. Your eyes widen, excitement bubbling up.

He came a step towards you, then another and another, before you were darting off, Ghostface right behind you. You knew this maze by heart, so it was definitely on purpose that you ran into a dead end so Eddie would catch you. Of course you didn't let him know that.

You muttered an audible "Fuck" and turned around. You could hear Eddie tsk behind you. He was closer than you initially thought. A surprise gasp leaving you as his leather gloved hand wrapped around the base of your neck lightly. Eddie lightly ran his knife over your cheek. Your heart was beating wildly, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

"Poor thing. Now what to do with you?" It was kind of thrilling that you couldn't see Eddie's face, yet his movements were so telling.

The pointy tip of his knife was under your chin, slowly lifting your head. The fact that it was a real knife and he could cut you with it, the danger of it all, only added to your arousal. You were sure your panties were already drenched.

Eddie slowly dragged the knife down your throat, only adding a tiny bit of pressure so you could feel the weight of the situation.

And you certainly did, it also turned you on immensely.

"Is there any way I can safe my life?" You were batting your eyelashes at him.

"I can think of a few things." Eddie dragged his knife up your thigh and under your skirt, making goosebumps rise on your skin. Then he kept dragging the dull end of the knife against your pussy over your panties, making you moan.

"On your knees Princess." Eddie pulled the knife back and you quickly got onto your knees in fron of him. Lifting his robe and opening his pants to pull Eddie's cock out. He was already hard. So you weren't the only one getting turned on by this.

"It's not gonna suck it self. So if you want your life spared, I suggest you start. And you better make it good." God that voice. Your pussy clenched around nothing.

You licked a long strip from base to top, wrapping your lips around his deep pink tip, licking off some of the precum. You repeated this motion a few times making sure all of his dick got wet with your saliva. Then you wrapped your lips around the tip again, letting your tongue glide over his slit. Eddie kept groaning and moaning the whole time, biting his lip under the mask.

You were enjoying this as much as he was, your juices already ruined your panties. Slowly you went to take more of him into your mouth until you couldn't take it anymore. Breathing through your nose you started to bob your head up and down. Your hand wrapping around what you couldn't fit into your mouth.

Your movements started slow but your pace became quicker by the minute. Occasionally you kept sucking on his sensitive tip. The low moans Eddie made only spurred you on. Drool was running down your chin mixed with his precum. Eddie loved messy blowjobs.

He tried to hold back the urge to fuck into your throat but his self-control was running thin.

"Hands behind your back princess." His voice was even deeper now, even with the changed voice.

You looked up at him with doe eyes, making Eddie twitch in your mouth. You put your arms behind your back and Eddie gripped your hair right as he made his first thrust. It was slow, as if to test you were ok with this. Once he saw you were eager and waiting he didn't hold back anymore. A gargled sound leaving you as he fucked his whole length into you. More drool and precum dribbling out of your mouth, down your chin. Your eyes began to water but you kept the same look on your face to let Eddie know you were enjoying this as much as he was.

Shoving the entirety of his cock down your throat he kept you in place. Your nose touching the soft tufft of his pubic hair. Tears wear running down your face now, completely ruinning your mascara.

You looked all the fucked out little slut Eddie knows you are only for him. That fact almost made him come.

He pulled you back by the hair after a few seconds, letting you take in some much needed air, before he pushed inside again and holding you there.

He repeated this for a while, you looking messier and messier every time he let you come up for air. And he was definitely getting off on this. His pace got quicker, you knew he was close. His cock throbbing in your mouth and with one final push he came. Groaning, he held you there until the last drop, then finally realising you from his grip. You were coughing a little, drool and some of his come on your chin, your mascara all over the place and your hair all tangled up. Eddie loved it.

He put his dick back into his pant and softly helped you stand up. You gave him a reassuring smile. Your knees hurted now but you knew he would take care of you.

"You did so well princess. But I am not done with you yet." With that he dragged you back to his van. Good for him that he knew the maze too. You were stumbling a little and were glad when you finally reached the van.

He opened the back door, and you saw an old mattress and a blanket on top of it. He really did plan this all through.

He pushed you inside and onto the mattress, making you giggle a little. Not bothering to close the door, Eddie got on top of you, still wearing his mask. He took off your vest and your shirt. Your skirt followed suit. Now he made a show out of cutting your bra and panties off. One of his favourite things to do during foreplay. The cold metal of the knife made you shiver.

He circled the tip of the knife around your nipples until they perked, giving a deep, satisfied hum. Slowly he dragged the knife over your stomach down to your pussy. His other gloved hand was running through your wet folds.

"All this shit got you this wet? What a dirty little slut you are. Letting a killer teat you like this and then letting him fuck you. Tsk, pathetic, really." He pulled his hand up to inspect the glove. It was glistening with your arousal in the moonlight that came into the van.

Taking the tip of the knife again he began circling your clit. A whiny moan escaped you as the cold metal came in touch with your heated pussy. But you were enjoying yourself. He didn't keep this teasing up for long and threw his knife to the side. Pulling his robes up he took his pants and boxers off. His dick was already hard again.

He didn't waste more time, spreading your legs he pushed inside of you with one quick push. You threw your head back both in pleasure and pain from the stretch.

"Fuck always the best fucking pussy. Sucking me in so deep." Eddie grit out between his teeth. He could spend hours inside of you if you'd let him. Usually he gave you time to adjust but he was really impatient today and so he didn't give you as much time to adjust to his length and girth. Instead he almost completely pulled out of you and snapped right back into you, knocking the wind out of you.

You let out a choked moan as Eddie kept drilling into you and soon the pain vanished and all that was left was hot pleasure.

You wanted to hold onto him but as quick as lightning he grapped your wrists and pinned them over your head with one hand. Black eyes staring at you. The sorta anonymity made you clench tight around Eddie's dick making him groan.

With every hard thrust the mattress moved but you could care less about that. You were biting your lip to quieten some of your moans but Eddie wasn't having it.

"You better moan as loud as you want, because I want every damn person in this town to know how good I am making you feel." He was almost growling and who were you to say no to him. And so you released every moan and whine and groan you wanted. The squelching sound of your pussy adding to the erotic of this whole situation.

Eddies thrusts became harder, sloppier and erratic. You knew he was getting close again but you also knew he wanted you to come first.

His hand moved between tthe two of you and he started to rub circles against your clit, using the right pressure and pace to match his thrusts.

Like this, it didn't take long for you to tip over the edge. Your ears started to ring and a loud high pitched moan came out of you. Your legs wrapping around Eddie, locking him in, as he too, reached his end, emtpying himself deep inside of you.

Once you've both calmed down Eddie finally took off his mask and the robe as well as his shirt. He pulled out of you, colapsing next to you onto the mattress and pulling you into his arms. He gave you a long and meaningful kiss that made you melt. Your heart was still hammering against your chest.

"Was it everything you dreamt of?" His voice sounded normal again, making you relax instantly.

"No. It was even better." Your voice was hoarse but that was to be expected. You didn't mind.

"I'm glad." Eddie kissed the top of your head. You two kept laying there for a little while longer before driving home and taking a well deserved shower. After another round, consisting of Eddie eating you out you fell asleep exhausted but oh so satisfied. You definitely planned on doing this again.

[wonderland-smile-stories]

~ Epilogue ~

I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes and how poorly written this fanfic is. English is not my first language and together with my dyslexia ass things can go wrong I'm sorry.

With tears in my eyes, I watched as they fell to the floor. Blood was running out of Mi-na's body staining the floor she was lying on.

"Eun-hyuk," I whisper grabbing his arm.

No answer.

"Eun-hyuk," My voice was louder now while I looked at him.

He finally snapped out of his mind looking at me. The same painful look was plastered on his face like the day we got to hear our parents died.

With pleading eyes I looked at him hoping he could do something. He gave me a single nod before he was about to take a step, but stopped when we saw Hyun-su move.

A feeling of relief washes over me when I saw that he woke up. If he can wake up Mi-na can as well.

Hyun-su looked at Mi-na before looking at Mister Han. Instead of Eun-hyuk, I walked over to him.

"Who are they? Why am I crying?"

His gaze went back to Mi-na, looking intensively at her like he has a vague memory of her, but yet can't seem to see her face in them.

"Why is my heart breaking?" He looked up at me with a confused look with tears running down his cheek making more tears run down my cheek.

He doesn't remember her?

Or even Mister Han?

Without saying anything he stood up and walked past me to God knows where.

Tightly I close my eyes before opening them again. They immediately fell on Mi-na. Hoping that she would still wake up I fell to my knees next to her trying to see if she was still breathing.

She has survived worse I know she can survive this. My teary eyes looked at Eun-hyuk and Ji-su.

"Eun-hyuk, do something!" I yelled out.

He opened his mouth to say something but shook his head.

Are you kidding me!?

They are just going to let her die.

"Come on! She's strong! We know she can survive this! Have you met her!" I scream desperately.

I let out a groan when he did nothing. I know CPR Eun-hyuk had bugged me for weeks to let him teach me and I caved in after all the nagging he did with the help of Mi-na.

Without waiting more time I put my hands on her chest and began to push. More tears ran down my face making it much harder for me to see, but I did not want to give up that easily.

"Mi-na you can't leave me. Not like this! Goddamit!" I grumbled loudly hoping she would wake up to tell me she was sorry that she scared me like this.

I don't want to lose her!

I can't lose someone else I care about!

A frustrated cry left my lips when I stopped for a second to see if I could hear a heartbeat, but nothing was there.

"Eun-yu," I hear Ji-su mumble from beside me, but I just ignore her again starting with the chest compressions.

"Mi-na, please," I whisper out with a shaky voice.

She wouldn't give up on me so I won't give up on her! I refuse to let her die like this. Too much has happened for her to die here on a dirty floor in this godforsaken building!

"Eun-yu," I look up continuing my movement to see Eun-hyuk kneel on the other side of Mi-na.

"She's gone," He whispered looking up from her.

I could see tears in his eyes, but I didn't care.

"No! No! She can't!" I cried out shaking my head.

"Eun-yu, stop. Please she's gone."

Ji-su took my hands trying to stop me, but I pushed them away trying to start again on Mi-na, but eventually, she took them in her tight grip.

More tears ran down my face when I finally realized that she was really gone. She isn't coming back from this. There are too many wounds on her body to survive this.

Why did she have to die?

Out of all the people here, she was the one who deserved to survive and live the most!

She sacrificed so much for us, for people she didn't know. All her life she had suffered so much and when she finally found happiness she just does something like this.

Why would she jump in to save us? Couldn't she just let us handle it for once?! I'm so pissed that she had to do that!

With shaky breath, I watched as Eun-hyuk lifted her up to probably take her to the burial place where the others were buried.

I pushed out of Ji-su's embrace storming off to a quieter place than here.

I don't want to bury her here. But maybe this is a good place. It's the place she was the happiest in her life. I let out a bitter laugh thinking how ironic that is.

Most people here hate this place with their whole body, yet this was a place full of happiness for her.

Her sweet home.

That only makes me think that where she was before most have been hell if this were her heaven.

I was about to turn a corner when I saw Hyun-su sitting there looking at his phone. I moved back leaning against the wall.

I let out a deep breath closing my eyes. A part of me was angry at him.

He had killed her.

But I know that it wasn't him.

No, he would rather die than kill her. I know that those two had a thing for each other even if they didn't know it themself. It was all too easy to tell.

How they would react if the other got hurt. Their eyes find each other in the room and then quickly looking away. Staying awake when the others got hurt to make sure they were alright.

I was happy for Mi-na and I wanted them to work out even if we were in an apocalypse right now. She deserved to have someone who would take care of her for once instead of her taking care of other people.

I shook my head thinking back when I sat with Hyun-su on the stairs.

"Just go like this. This is much better." I moved his fingers into the right position, before linking my pinky with his.

‘Survive, for yourself, for the rest of us, and for her.' Hyun-su looked confused at our hands.

"You just promised me."

I let out a deep breath before looking back at Hyun-su who was still sitting there. I had to pass him to get to the burial room.

I wanted to see Mi-na before she was underneath the ground for good. Hoping he would just ignore me I stepped from behind the wall and began to walk.

"Who is she?" I suck in some breath when those words left his mouth.

I thought that I was right and that I would be ignored when I passed him, but luck was not on my side.

Turning on my heels I looked at him. He was looking at his phone before looking up at me.

"That girl."

That girl was the most amazing selfless person I have ever met.

"Someone we deeply cared about."

He blinked a few times before looking back at his phone.

"It seems like I cared about her too." He turned his phone towards me revealing a picture of a sleeping Mi-na on the background.

"Yes. Yes, you did." I mutter out looking back at him.

A frown came to his face before turning his phone back to himself. With the same frown, he looks down at it.

What can I say to him?

He doesn't remember her at all.

Should I tell him who she was and what she did for us?

For Him?

Wouldn't he be more miserable knowing who she is and that she's gone now?

Seeing that he was lost in his thoughts I walked away.

I need to see her before she's in the cold ground for good. I won't have the chance to come and visit her if we ever leave this place. She deserves a better resting place than this.

The sound of digging came closer and closer making me wonder if I really wanted to see her go in the ground. I don't need to look when they lower her, but I still want to see her before they wrap her in the white blanket.

When I came to the door I saw everyone standing there. My eyes went to the floor and saw to my surprise Mister An also lying there on a stretcher.

Him too?

So many had died in just one day.

In just one facking day!

I looked at Mi-na and tears began to well up in my eyes. She looks so peaceful lying there. It looked like she could wake up any moment now.

My gaze went up seeing Eun-hyuk standing at the end of the dead people's heads looking down at her with an emotionless face.

I was so angry at him when he talked to her for the first time. It annoyed me so much that he even wanted to know someone I knew. I never understood why he would meddle in my life and my friends.

Even when I told Mi-na to just ignore him she didn't. No, she was too nice to do that. And I'm thankful for that. Because in the end, she became his friend as well.

Eun-hyuk needed a friend.

He was always busy working and studying and he never had a lot of friends. So knowing he had someone he could talk with made me happy.

Back then hell no, but looking back now it makes me happy that she was there for him as much as she was there for me.

Sometimes it felt like a real home when I would come home late and Mi-na would be at our apartment waiting with a worried Eun-hyuk.

He would scold me of course for doing so and Mi-na would often step in to mediate between us and find a come ground for us so we could calm down.

A shovel hitting something metal brought me back to reality. I looked over the Yi-kyung who was digging the graves and saw her kneeling down in front of the hole they dug.

Eun-hyuk rushed over to see what was happening. I honestly didn't really care at the moment. I look back down at Mi-na knowing that in a few minutes, she will be lying there covered in dirt.

Tears ran over my cheek, but I wiped them away with the back of my sleeve.

Tightly I close my eyes and think back at all the times I had spent with her.

"That facking bastard!" I mutter out walking up the steps.

"Why can't he just leave me alone?!" I kick the roof door open ignoring the birds that flew away out of fright.

I stomped towards my place where I normally dance or just sit and smoke when I heard a guitar being played.

When I looked around and saw a girl I had never seen before playing the guitar.

"Who the fack," I mutter out.

She was sitting in my place. I wasn't in the mood to go back downstairs and see my brother's face.

"Can't you go play depressing songs somewhere else?!" The girl flinches almost dropping the guitar from her lap.

To my surprise, she didn't say anything and only looked at me surprised.

Is she deaf?

Maybe she doesn't understand me, she looks foreign. I was about to say something again when she spoke up.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a burden. This was the only place I could find where I could practice and not piss off my neighbors." To my surprise, she spoke Korean.

It wasn't perfect and you could tell she was a beginner because she spoke very slowly, but it was good enough for me to understand.

"It won't do you any good though. These people will be pissed and annoyed with you whatever you do. It's better to just ignore them and do whatever you want."

A small smile formed on her face before she nodded her head.'

Who would have thought that meeting her there and then we would become friends?

We mostly would just sit there in the beginning. She playing her guitar and me just smoking. With more time passing by we began to talk more.

I felt so safe and myself when I was with her. I wasn't Eun-hyuk's little sister, the girl who lost her parents, or anything else. I was just me and she accepted me for who I was.

For that, I will forever be thankful.

Previous Chapter

————————————————————

This was it. It’s the end of season one. I had a lot of fun writing for this. There was a lot of stuff that I wanted to write, but that I couldn’t or just didn’t put into the story. I wanted to put more of Mi-na’s background in it, but it didn’t seem to fit into the story right or the pacing just wasn’t good. So there's going to be more about that in the second book. I have written a lot of stuff that I just won’t put in the story at all, so maybe I’m going to post that as one-shots or au. I’m not sure yet. Yes, there is going to be another part for season two, but I’m going to wait to publish it until season three is out. Also, I'm still writing it and I don’t know what kind of direction I want to go in with the storyline. Again I’m so grateful to all of you guys for reading and liking it! I hope you enjoyed it! Seeing for season three bye!

[blackstarchanx3new]

FSR Rambles 14 mental illnesses-

Cutting from Dark's tantrum, it becomes evidently obvious Dark isn't angry at Shadow in the way he's seen people show anger.

Smth to consider:

Everyone who's angry so far has been...Explosive. (Vio is like, the only one who's just been steadily annoyed.)

Blue and Shadow both get pretty explosive when they're mad, Vaati too. So...Dark doesn't have much to go off of in the way of nuance in showing he's angry/mad at someone.

Literally zero to one hundred.

Dark even outright asks Shadow Link "Am I mad at you" likely because he's just...kind of mad Shadow and Vio are close and he's jealous but Dark's understanding of his OWN emotions are basically none.

He's even "Embarrassed" and thinks he should have looked at Blue's memories to get a better grasp on anger.

Don't do it Dark-

Dark's flip flopping between his attempts to show anger and his natural mellow personality is night and day.

Switching to having sharp teeth again to reflect Shadow Link.

1st panel is pretty evident: He's just saying shit that Blue has been feeling lmao.

Dark again speaks in the 3rd person here. Twice now it's been used to try and speak about himself from someone else's perspective.

Vio's afraid of him, but the previous time he did it, his "Yay Dark Link" line if you remember was smth he WANTED Vaati to feel about him.

Shadow is rightly confused as HELL about what Dark is even talking about. Dark not so casually does conform though he was the one who was messing with Vio earlier.

The three panels of Dark's face are some of my favorites because it shows just how little this conversation matters to him from a serious angle.

His act of being pissed breaks immediately with his inability to hold back a grin at how silly he feels he's acting at the moment.

Dude's having a fun time but Shadow's patience has run dry and he snaps at Dark to "just answer me!"

While the Triforce of power glows.

This makes Dark stop what he's doing and freeze up.

I'm sure this page confused people. Because it's kinda. Weird.

Dark stops talking and is just frozen up.

Shadow doesn't just ask him a question, but an outright demand while his Triforce glows.

Dark starts screaming with a terrified look on his face and elaborates plainly what he's doing there, he covers his own mouth quickly after.

Shadow's disturbed by this interaction and looks down at the Triforce on his hand.

So basically if you were wondering:

Shadow made Dark talk here, albeit on accident using the power of the Triforce.

Which is why Dark started screaming and twitching because he had no choice but to respond.

With his autonomy ripped away from him Dark is rightfully terrified of Shadow Link.

His fear is so strong he holds his hat close to himself for comfort and hides his face, apologizing his loyalties lie with Vaati and not Shadow Link.

Shadow tries in vain to clear up the identity confusion.

Okay but from Dark's perspective "Gannon's" just being a lying weirdo. X'D

Dark knows "The truth" and he can't really comprehend why "Gannon" is still keeping up the lie that he's a different person asking plainly if Shadow's afraid Dark wont' like him.

Shadow's obviously very fed up, reminding the audience and Dark that he has no fucking clue who Dark even is at this point.

Fun thing about the panel where Dark mimics Shadow's face, the panel of annoyed Shadow and the panel proceeding it both share some line art. X'D

Dark was "mimicing" again but goes right back to his actual feelings.

He doesn't actually care about Shadow's identity crisis at all when it comes to not telling anyone else about it. Stuttering while he talks.

He's confused why Shadow gets to "Lie" in this instance but Vio's lies were bad and deserving of anger.

Keep Dark's confusion over lying in mind.

2nd to last panel talk:

Shadow just, has no idea how to deal with this dude.

Like it's evident Shadow has a hard time keeping up with Dark's nonsense but it's REALLY evident there.

"Wtf is he talking about?" face is pretty funny.

Dark being shocked they might hate Shadow more for lying than being Gannon is a fun assumption on Dark's part, leading Shadow to ask outright

"Are you trying to give me advice???"

From Shadow's perspective, it sure does seem like Dark is trying to give him advice. X'D When Dark is just saying how he feels.

Fun questions from Dark...

If Shadow can "Switch around what you are" ...a phrase that's very up for debate wtf he actually meant by that statement,

Can Dark do it too?

Shadow seems to take it as Dark asking if he could be a good guy too, and says "yeah sure why not".

Whatever Dark DID mean by that, he seems to take Shadow's reply well and laughs to himself about it with a very pleased expression on his face.

Keep that, in mind.

Dark sits back down and asks Shadow a pretty...weird question.

"Do you think Vio will still want your kisses if he knows who you are, King Shadow Link?"

Again showing Dark's focus is on really random things that pertain to his interests. Because he doesn't ask Shadow if Vio will TRUST HIM, or still LOVE HIM, or even if he'll still want to be his friend.

He asks if Vio will still kiss him.

Which is like, super specific.

When Shadow's like "idk"

he gets giddy and resounds Shadow FOR SURE should tell him the truth.

Why?

Well that face really says it all.

Dark in some way thinks Shadow would be an obsticle to Vio's affection... HUh.

Wonder where he got that from...

Cough cough BLUE-

This line is the nail in the coffin for Shadow as he's full blown pissed off now.

Dark's perpetual jabs at Vio have finally made him crack.

There's for sure a hint of jealousy in Shadow's actions too.

Dark exhaling pollen as he sighs is probs only amusing to me.

His SASS in the words "...Is FIGHTING all you two know how to do?"

Clearly referencing Vaati in this statement, clear annoyance in his face.

Dark is already fed up with both Shadow and Vaati's quickness to fight at the drop of the hat.

Dark does take up his gigantic sword and gets ready to fight.

His lines are pretty telling about how he feels this is an obligation to make Shadow Link "have fun".

"...If you have fun, at least that'll make one of us...right?" - Dark finds fights boring and meaningless and really doesn't wanna do this, but since it'll make Shadow "have fun" he's up for playing along.

The eye on his chest looks distinctly bored with this as well.

his next line is kinda, weird.

"If we win, we get to celebrate...so there's that...yay..."

This line is meant to be in reference to Vio and Green's fight, and how afterwards Shadow and Vio celebrated.

His little "...I'm trying to get excited about it" explains his little "yay" to hype himself up.

Dark focuses on defense in this fight for the most part, blocking Shadow's attacks.

"Are you having fun yet? Can we stop soon?"

Dark's really not feeling this fight and just wants it to be over.

He takes another page out of Vio's book an tries to make his opponent unable to fight.

In this case, he disarms Shadow by parrying his sword out of his hands.

Dark's murderous expression paired with Shadow's face reflecting in his blade is a pants crapping image if you were in Shadow's shoes I'm sure but for the audience it's cool as hell.

Dark, again, had the chance to hurt someone majorly and chose not too.

Which really reflects the kind of person he actually is I feel.

Dark chooses to give mercy to people.

He just lets Shadow fall onto his ass.

Though, don't get Dark's question mixed up. X'D

He did not ask Shadow "Did that hurt?" out of kindness or concern. He asked it out of genuine curiosity.

Shadow has a second of hesitation before slamming that sword full force into Dark.

Ouch.

Dark had a hard time with that swing.

His continuous mumbling about how he really doesn't want to fight are just kinda sad.

The visual of Dark swinging this huge ass sword around, and trying to balance again once he got Shadow off him is so oddly cute.

Shadow reflects on how he's filling the role as the "bad guy" here because of Dark's behavior as well get into with the next page.

I mean. He's right.

Dark's just defending himself against Shadow's attacks. He's not trying to hurt Shadow.

Not actually attacking or retreating is gonna wind up in Dark getting hurt, so Shadow wonders if this is the right choice, considering his options.

If Dark was fighting back, this would be an easier moral fight. But Dark isn't. He's just defending himself or disarming Shadow so Shadow can't try to hurt him.

Dark being a moral mess to deal with is a continuous theme...

As Dark's behavior leads him to be very hard to deal with as an enemy or an alley.

Shadow decides that he IS gonna fight Dark still but gets rudely interrupted by a flashbang.

Ouch. Not the eyes.

Dark covering his chest eyeball. Ouch.

Shadow cowering in the Shadows lmfao. Poor dude.

Poor dark has 3 eyes that got hurt in that nonsense. Vaati's team spirit just ain't there.

It's a sad thing to consider Dark has gotten almost nothing but pain in his short time existing as a conscious individual.

Vaati very rudely grabs Dark's face in a very possessive manor. Because he sucks. XD He lumps in Shadow Link with Link in how the curse functions... which Dark tries to interject with...Something, but Vaati tells him to "Stfu"

Their interaction through this whole thing is just...This: X'D

Vaati is very sick of Dark speaking, at all. So just tells Dark to be quiet.

The repeated idea of Dark not liking lies/people misinterpreting things is just a thing to note.

Vaati thinks he can get hooked up with 2 evil Links.

Little does he know-

Ya know we'll get back to that...

I just wanna point out to the audience:

Shadow is a huge dick here.

In trying to insult Vaati and built himself up he just tore Dark down which clearly hurt Dark's feelings.

There was no need to say that Shadow. 😭

Oh but there was...

To show the audience Shadow's still a bit of a douche bag...

Dark mimicking Vaati's pissed off expression is so funny to me and only me.

I know like, NONE of yall read the pillowfort excusive comic.

But it's cannon Dark's ears are ticklish so that's why he laughed when Vaati whispered to him.

He gets more serious when he realizes Vaati's sayin' smth important and whispers back.

What Vaati and Dark are implied to have said I'll get into in the next page.

Shadow ain't a fan of the secrecy.

Turns out Dark just told Vaati what he saw.

Which was smooching and hugging lmfao.

Vaati proceeds to laugh his ass off about affection he'll never receive.

Dark is utterly confused about being patted on the head.

Dark just sits there thinking to himself over what Vaati's saying + Vaati's action.

Welp. Vaati's being a dick.

Dark plays with Vaati's hair idly while he talks shit.

And we get to a very hilarious panel imo. Dark hugging Vaati and Vaati being utterly disgusted with the action.

Thoughts:

Why did Dark hug Vaati?

Well there's a few reasons he could have

He could have KNOWN it made Shadow jealous. He took Dark rubbing his head as clearance they can touch each other just fine. He just likes Vaati and wants to touch him.

Shadow's blatant jealousy isn't missed by Vaati either.

Just gonna point out, the background hue keeps shifting to match emotions.

Purple for fear, red for anger and the green for jealousy.

Vaati's an asshole so he rubs Dark's head in an attempt to make Shadow jealous further.

Vaati is nothing if not an emotional manipulator.

Dark appreciates the head scritches at least.

Again Vaati seems to get smth wrong, and Dark tries to correct him and gets cut off.

For shoving his finger in Dark's face Dark unceremoniously licks it.

Which is funny as hell to me, especially how one of Vaati's eyes glares at him for this but he's too busy trying to be manipulative to tell Dark off. X'D

The smug look on Dark's face would lead one to think he knows it pissed Vaati off that he did that. XD

Vaati's persuasion is shit, so Shadow sees right through it.

Huh...Funny Shadow only seems to humanize Dark slightly when Vaati's abuse tactics used on Shadow are thrown back into his face on full display.

FuNNY HOW THAT WORKS.

Also Shadow's dialogue's important so I'll expand on it.

Him admitting he did shit wrong. Yay character growth. UwU

He can relate to being trapped. Bro was trapped in Link's shadow and SUFFERED so...it's safe to say he knows how Vaati's imprisonment feels.

Shadow dropping the "Family" muhahaha. He loves his dumbass boys. UwU

Vaati continues to suck.

The sudden gripping on Dark's shoulder makes Dark wince. Ouch.

Omf. That line hurts.

Vaati and Shadow's relationship is one sided pain and hurt with the promise of love that never comes.

Shadow broke out of that cycle by breaking the mirror but still has to put up with Vaati's crap.

Dark views this with expectant eyes.

Vaati's monologue here just reflects his time after the events of the minish cap manga.

Shadow's response, my boy grew up lots.

He clearly feels bad Vaati went through that but say it with me

IT AIN'T HIS PROBLEM.

Haha oh Shadow's words are very telling about how he feels about the past.

"Vio means it this time...right?"

His wants now are just stuff like "I wanna have a bed!"

reminder from the flashback he DIDN'T HAVE ONE.

He wants to spend time with Zelda and Link in a meaningful way.

visual references to BOTW Link and Tetra because muhahaha.

Shadow's words about "Failure" is kinda telling.

Being a villian in a Zelda story means you fail. The hero will virtually always defeat you and you'll be left with nothing but pain.

Shadow wants no part of that shit...

But his reasons is kinda...selfish?

He doesn't say "being bad is bad because you're bad!" he says "Fuck I don't wanna fail anymore."

He settles on a life he finds obtainable because Gannon and Vaati's dreams are INSANLY UNOBTAINABLE not because he doesn't want those things too.

Because let's be real if there were no consequences...Shadow would do whatever the fuck he wanted. XD

Vaati's not the only one who can project! SHADOW CAN DO IT TOO.

Failing at the hands of the hero over and over is smth Shadow feels Gannon's emotions on. Dude is so sick of it.

Fun chameo from our favorite hero ever.

Navi.

Jk. Hero of Time...I'm sure he'll never be relevant ever again.

Shadow's acceptance of a lowkey life pisses Vaati off.

The perpetual failures being slung in his face was just one too many.

Vaati's reached his limits of anger at both Dark and Shadow Link.

Oh.

He didn't squeeze him like a squeaky toy this time...

If you're wondering "Why didn't Dark dodge?"

Last time Vaati carried Dark off and when he DID try to hurt Dark he tried to slam him into the ground, not CRUSH HIM.

Dark didn't perceive being held alone by Vaati as a danger so didn't bother trying to escape.

Shadow's terror at this action like, really makes it sink in Vaati means business.

Vaati's sick of everyone at this point omf. Dark just stays limp as hell which sucks for him.

Shadow channaling the power of the Triforce of power decides to fuck Vaati's shit up.

This was 100% inspired by the Guardian/Blight lasers lmfao because that's FUNNY.

It really sucks to me we don't really see what the Triforce of Power's abilities...ARE.

So I'm just going with "Shit Gannon can do in other incarnations" because that's all I have to go off of. 🤷

"Turning the wieldier into a pig monster" was smth I saw but that only really happens to Gannon with the explanation that he's losing control over his piece and himself? So...Shadow switching to pig mode here wouldn't make much sense. X'D

And YAAAAY DARK LINK IS SAVED.

Due to pure selfishness on Shadow's part-

Okay look I'm not gonna sugar coat it.

Shadow didn't save Dark because he cares about who Dark is. He saved him because how Vaati treated HIM was being put onto Dark. Shadow's projecting to hell onto Dark due to the abuse he faced and ONLY helped him due to that reason.

Round about say to say: He doesn't pity Dark here, he pities himself.

"That's not what matters right now." - Shadow said like a liar.

This wasn't a logical choice in the slightest and Shadow has no justification for his outburst in this regards because it was 100% anger at his own past abuse being slung in his face and has nothing to do with Dark the person being abused.

Shadow just as an afterthought asking if Dark is alright kinda sements that.

IMAGE LIMITS ARE SATAN'S MISTRESSES.

So I guess I'll pick this back up later.

[cutesharkstudios]

Lumity Comfort Ch.3: This Clown Again

Luz's menace walked towards her with a smug smile and a high head. She leaned directly into Luz's face, practically sneering at the now scared girl. Amity put her hand on Emma's sholder, making herself clear that she won't let Emma mess with Luz. As she was backing up, Emma noticed the pride flags the couple was wearing, and hatched a plan.

Emma: So the weirdo is into girls, why am I not shocked.

Luz: Why yes, I do like girls, particularlly this angel.

Emma: I thought you didn't belive in this stuff.

Luz: Okay a) you're and atheist, you don't get to tell me about my beliefs. And b) there is evidence that the one verse you know was mistranslated, and actually ment to not date KIDS, not those of the same gender.

Emma: Whatever, I just see you being happy and wanted to stop it. You're just so weird, and weirdos don't deserve happiness.

Amity: Don't talk to my girlfriend that way! You put her through enough!

Emma: You're not the only one with a partner. Hey Jack, come here.

Entering the room was Emmas boyfriend, Jack Rocksforbrains. He looked like a genderbent Emma, but taller, more muscular, and a snear so brazen that it was hard to look at. Jack walked up to his girlfriends side, and looked at Amity.

Emma: Jack, fix her. (snaps)

Jack was about to approach Amity, but he then felt a hand on his sholder. Turning around, he saw the owner of the cafe, looking absolutely livid, as he knew what was about to happen.

Owner: Leave. Now.

Emma: Excuse me?

Jack: I was about to fix her.

Owner: You listen to me! They were just minding their own business, and you walk up to them to do horrible things! I heard about you buffoons from Luz! You two are not welcome here! You, and you, GET OUT!

Jack and Emma left, but that won't be the last time they try to ruin a relationship.

Owner: (sighs) Allah give me strength. Are you two okay? I hope those two leave you alone. Have a good date.

After the owner left, Luz sat down, more than a bit rattled, and Amity began to worry.

Amity: Are you okay Luz? What did Emma mean by "fix me?"

Luz: Knowing Jack, he probably would have tried to kiss you against your will. Wouldn't be his first time. At my 10th birthday party, he tried to kiss me, even though I said I didn't like him. He backed me into the wall and tried to kiss me, only to be stopped by my mom, who proceded to scream at him. That is the one time I have ever seen mama angry.

Amity: Well, what about when you make a mistake?

Luz: She just explains my faults, shows me a better option, and takes the time to guide me through life.

Amity: Sorry that Jack did that to you. Say, you mentioned some people not liking it when people of the same gender are together. Maybe some time in the future, not now but later, you could explain it to me?

Luz: Sure. Anyways, what are you learning with Mama?

Amity: I am learning about mechanics. I didn't realize just how AWESOME machines are until I met your mom. She even let me create stuff from her old junk. Side note, I may have accidentally made a robot cat out of your old toaster and some magic. Oops.

Luz: Say, I know you use a lot of abomination magic, what other kinds of magic interest you.

Amity:(blinks twice) Huh, I never actually stopped to think about it. My mom always wanted me to join the emperors coven, but I only really use abomination magic since my dad taught me most of my magic. I guess I could try plant magic, maybe bond with Willow over that……

The two continued their conversation well into the evening, just enjoying eachother's company. They only stopped when the owner asked them to leave due to the closing for the night.

Luz: ….and that't why I love the Azura franchise so much.

Amity: Well your dad would be so proud of you. He's in a better place now and-

Owner: Um, excuse me.

Luz: Oh hi, is everything okay?

Owner: Just a heads up, we close in 30 minutes.

Luz: Wait. (Checks the time, 7:30pm) OH SHOOT! I am so sorry, Amity probably had plans this evening.

Amity: Not other than spending time with you. Again, sorry, we'll head home. This was lovely.

Owner: Come back soon.

When they got home, Camilla tackle hugged Luz and Amity. She asked where they were, since she didn't want to interupt their date, Luz explained, and Camilla got a good laugh from that.

Camilla: Well I'm just happy you two are okay. Maybe set a reminder next time. And I'm sorry THOSE idiots crashed your date. Here's hoping it doesn't happen again.

Luz: Well I have an idea, we know where she usually hangs out, so let's just avoid those areas when we're alone.

Amity: Good idea.

Outside their house, a certain figure stood in the shadows. It was Emma, taking notes of her victim, and how to ruin her happily ever after.

[wjforever]

Shatter me again. Chapter 88

I used to think I knew what fear meant. Animal terror. I thought I was afraid before. When I was arrested for murder. When I was transferred from institution to institution. When I got to the headquarters. When we were running under a hail of bullets…

Even back then I wasn't as scared as I'm now. Because then I had a faint hope, it seemed to me that something could still be done. But now I'm facing the danger itself. I'm in the hands of someone who can really trample me. He can destroy me. Morally. Physically. He's able to leave no one stone of my temple upon another. Just because he can. And there's nothing I can do about it. Nothing at all. He has already outlined his position to me. He won't let me escape from this. He'll be cruel. He'll be ruthless.

He lets go of my wrists, his hands are on me again, but now on my shoulders. He holds me through the fabric of Adam's T-shirt. And I close my eyes, waiting for my destruction. I wish my gift would come back now. All my life I've dreamed of getting rid of it, but now I need it more than ever. But this power is no longer able to protect me. This is my payment for all the ruined lives.

I press myself against the wall, I can barely stand on my feet. It's too much for me. It's too much. Tears begin to form in my eyes. I'm breaking down. Something inside me snaps in half, crunches. Guilt, pain, fear, shame overflow and run down my cheeks. 

I can't take it anymore. I want all this to be over. I want this to be a terrible dream, just a nightmare. I shrink all over, my throat constricts, screams and cries get stuck somewhere in the depths of my chest, and I sob soundlessly. The trembling becomes so strong that I feel myself hitting the wall behind me.

All that remains of me is a pitiful, shameful lump. I feel disgusted. With myself. I hate myself. I despise my weakness. I so want to be strong again. I want to fight and struggle. But there is nothing decent or noble left in me. I don't accept my fate with my head held high, I don't look boldly in the face of impending tragedy, like a heroine. I am a shattered nothingness, a pathetic semblance of a human, a mess of tears and snot. I have only myself to blame. I'm paying for my own sins. Miserable, worthless…

If he saw me as the ruler of the world, deserving to stand next to him, then he was very much mistaken. I didn't pass his test. I'm just the leftovers remain after his bloody feast.

"Look at me."

His voice is so confident, insistent. He knows what he wants. He wants to see how my fall will change my eyes. He wants to see. He won't defer to me. He wants to watch my suffering, my pain. But I don't look. Not out of pride or audacity. I just can't. I'm too scared, too weak, too confused about where I am and what's going on. There are only emotions left that paralyze my entire being.

"Juliette, look at me."

I'm getting a feeling of déjà vu. This happened before. At the headquarters. The morning after he killed Fletcher. I cried the same way, and he asked me to look at him. I was also terribly afraid back then, I thought he would kill me. He didn't hurt me then. He was kind to me. For a while. It's all a lie. It's all a game. He just planned to keep using me to torture people for him. And at that moment he couldn't touch me. He couldn't touch me… But now…

I shouldn't look at him, because I'll turn to stone. I'm counting the buttons on his coat. One, two, three, four… It's not calming me, but I shouldn't look at him. Because I will see the cruel eyes of a smug monster reveling in his power. 

But his voice… along with his persistence, there is some… sincerity in it. 

You can't trust a voice. 

I need to see his eyes.

And I let his green gems burn through me.

Shriveling, pulling my head into my shoulders, pressing against the wall, I'm looking into the eyes of my own demons, that have tormented me all my life. I can barely see his face because of the tears blurring my eyes. He's so close. His lips are so close. He'll carry out his threat. I know that. And I'm waiting for this kiss, practically losing consciousness. I almost want it already. So that it ends faster.

He's frowning, serious, focused. But those eyes… There is nothing calm about them. They're rushing from side to side, are hypnotizing me like a pendulum. And I shift my gaze to my bloodied guillotine. To his lips. I tried to escape from it, I thought I could. But I couldn't. I made a circle and returned to the starting point. I'm not ready to die, I'm not ready to lose my head, but I know that there is no other fate for me. Maybe I should just accept it. Maybe I even deserve such torture. I suddenly relax in his arms, lose all will, humble before my destiny. I give myself up, I surrender without a fight. There is no sense of struggle or resistance left in me. Nothing. Everything is burned out. Only a hollow shell remained, filled with emptiness.

I can see his lips parting as he leans a little closer. I feel his breath on my face. I close my eyes and inhale through my mouth…

"I won't hurt you, you hear?" I'm not sure that I hear. I blink, open my eyes wider, trying to see something behind the tears. "Hush, calm down."

Now he's the one who closes his eyes, inhales, licks and then bites his injured lower lip. And I can't take my eyes off this action. I'm watching him like he was watching me just now. It's like I'm stunned. It seems to me that I'm in a intoxicating fog that prevents me from soberly perceiving the world around me.

"It doesn't matter, okay? It doesn't matter right now. We're talking about the wrong things." He exhales sharply. His fingers rub my shoulders lightly, as if to cheer me up. "We have to think about other, more important issues. Good? I know you're scared.… I understand… Really… We parted on a bad note. And now… I was disturbed by all these events… I didn't control myself well. My fault. But I won't hurt you. I swear. Let's try to pull ourselves together. We said a lot to each other. But now we can talk calmly, sensibly, reasoning like rational people, right?"

Talk calmly? After he killed Adam? I don't think so. I don't think it's possible. But I don't have the strength to answer him.

"Juliette. I'm not your enemy… I'm not the one who's your enemy… Please hear me. Listen to what I'm telling you. Do you have any plan? Have you thought about the consequences of all this? You're all alone…"

Yes, I think, I'm all alone. Because he killed Adam. 

"You have nowhere to go, you see? Wherever you go…"

His persuasive tone eases the tension slightly and some dam breaks inside me. All the pain, all the fear, all the resentment suddenly return, filling me to the brim again and it all spills out. I remember everything he said to me when Adam and I were running away. He told me that I had no place in this world. And even though I know he's right, it's driving me crazy. I'm used to always digesting everything inside myself, but now, next to him… I want to throw out all this bitterness on him. Like it's his fault. Although it's not. But it's much easier to blame him than to admit my worthlessness over and over again. Or maybe I just need someone to share this pain with.

"I know! I know I'm no better than you! I remember that I'm a freak! That I have no place in this world, that no one will ever accept me. That I would be hated. I know that people suffer and die because of me, because I'm a monster, because I do everything wrong. I remember. I remember that I belong to you, that I have no rights, no choice. I'm your thing, your property. I know that if I don't obey you, you'll still get to me and turn my life into hell. You'll force me be near you whether I want it or not. Will make me do whatever you want. I know all this, but I… I don't want to be like you! It'll be better for everyone if I'm alone… will die of hunger and cold…" Tears flow uncontrollably in a stream. I can't go on, my voice breaks, and I avoid his gaze again.

He's silent for too long.

We're honoring the memory of dozens of seconds buried by us.

"Juliette…" he breathes.

An insidious snake wrapped around its mouse. His whisper hypnotizes, makes you forget all precautions. Forcing you to make a fatal mistake.

I blink up at him.

It was a trap.

A cruel, evil trap.

My eyes are full of tears, and his, suddenly, disarming sympathy. And he shouldn't look at me like that. With these eyes the color of grass warmed by the sunshine. The same eyes that I've been deceived by so many times. But I'm so hurt, and scared, and mournful. And I want to get away from it all. I want to hide from the horror that I feel. I'm looking for safety.

There's nowhere to hide here. There's no dark corner I could huddle in. But I remember that he can give it to me. He's done it before and more than once. Even when I hated him and was afraid of him. Somehow he could snap me out of my worries. Somehow he managed to calm me down. For some reason I know I'm safe with him, that he won't hurt me. And I know I have to forget about it.

Warner opens his mouth, shakes his head, but, it seems, can't find the words. 

"Ju… just… leave me… here…" sob. "Please…"sob. "I... let me… die…"

"Juliette… let me explain everything. Please. Will you listen to me?"

I nod, because I have no other options.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry that I put so much pressure on you. I know it was difficult for you… But I have… I had to. I couldn't… I didn't know what else to do. I didn't have much time to get through to you, and you were so alarmed…"

It seems to me that his impeccable oratorical skills are suddenly failing him. He exhales, bites his lips, looks up somewhere. And I'm just waiting for what he wants to tell me without taking my eyes off him.

"Listen… everything I said… I should have phrased that differently. That's not what I meant… I just didn't know how to stop you. But that's not what I was trying to tell you…   Understand, wherever you go, you would remain in the territory of The Reestablishment. Everything is not limited to the headquarters and the regulated territory. Wherever you run, even if you managed to leave the sector, they would still find you. With or without Adam… You wouldn't be able to hide forever. The Reestablishment is everywhere. And this world wouldn't show you mercy or understanding, you know that.

If you ran away now, they would find you anyway, sooner or later. You would be discovered wherever you go and brought back to the headquarters. If they didn't immediately understand who you are, then you would be sent to another asylum, and from there you would still return to the headquarters. But next time I might not be able to help you. Things could get much worse, you have no idea…"

His voice is soft. Easy. Slow. Deceptively convincing. And I'm suddenly amazed at how deftly he changes the subject. Brings us back to the starting position again. And his voice varies accordingly. But I understand what he's doing. He shapeshifts once again. He's playing with me again. Changes tactics, trying to give me what I need. He's done it before and many times. He could lie to me. He is The Reestablishment. He says all this just to intimidate me, so that I agree to anything. Voluntarily, of course. It's just such a game for him. Everything is a game for him. By playing, he's driven me here like an animal, I remind myself.

"Juliette. Come with me… please. You don't know how far The Reestablishment could go to to get you back. And if you left now, you would be considered a traitor. And then you wouldn't have a chance. Do you understand? Please don't make this any worse for you. Trust me. I'll fix everything. They'll think it was all part of the plan, that you were on my side. That you helped me find criminals. I can handle it. I can protect you."

He's like a feral dog, crazed and wild, thirsty for chaos, simultaneously aching for recognition and acceptance.

Love.

"Criminals?" I ask surprisingly calmly, as far as it's possible under the circumstances.

He nods. 

"I'm a criminal too…"

"Juliette… there's no sense sacrificing yourself…" His voice is so gentle, velvety. And all of a sudden, I'm quite inappropriately paying attention to how attractive his voice is. I like to listen to this chest sound, I like how it lulls me. He has a very pleasant timbre. And very enjoyable, unusual intonations, as if he speaks with a slight, unknown accent.

"You'll never understand!" I say with a little more desperation.

"I understand. I know what you're afraid of. But you're not a monster… Do you hear? You're not a monster. It's not about you. It's just that people are afraid of what they don't understand. And when they are afraid of something, they try to destroy it. People always strive to ruin what's better, to suppress those who are weaker. Because all humans are selfish. They act only in their own interests. And when you find yourself among the others, and you can't always be alone, they'll try to eliminate you or use you for their own purposes."

"Like you do?" I look up sharply at him, but I don't raise my voice. My eyes are boring into his.

I see the pain. In his eyes, in his expression. Such sincere, genuine pain. Like he's really sorry that I'm not letting him help, that I can't and don't want to believe him. As if it causes him physical torment. As if my opinion and attitude towards him really mean something to him.

"All I want is to help you. Believe me. Please. I want to help you."

His words are just a sweet lie, another manipulation and nothing more. But I'm too tired to look for a catch in every word. I suddenly want to believe him for some reason. I want to believe his words, I want to believe in his sincerity. I'm suddenly ready to believe that he really wants to help me, that he's been trying for me all this time, that I don't know everything. He's already helped me, hasn't he? I don't know if he did it for his own benefit, but he helped me. And he has shown me a different, softer side of himself so many times. He took care of me. He was gentle and attentive to me. And I saw how he had to change, to adapt to circumstances. And I want to believe in "what if".

I'm really frightened, actually. I have no one else and nothing. Warner destroyed it all. I have nowhere to run. I don't know what to do. And I'm afraid to be all alone in this huge, crazy, scary world that I've never been in. I'm afraid of being caught. I'm afraid to experience all this horror again. And I know for sure that Warner can help me, get me back into my usual routine. He can comfort me. Like no one ever could. I already know this feeling, and I unconsciously reach out to it like a moth to a flame.

I want him to hug me. Because his hands are always able to save me from my own fears. I want to hide in him from reality. I want him to become my refuge, to protect me from the fierce storm that's hitting me from all sides. I shouldn't feel like this, I have to fight this irrationality. But he has already managed to accustom me to this, and I so need to grab onto something familiar, something that gives peace and hope. Because everything that's happening right now is not real. It can't be this way. I couldn't lose Adam. I couldn't let his brother die because of me. I couldn't drag Kenji into this. I don't want this to be true. And I'm looking for ways to get away from it all.

Tears are scudding down my face inexorably again, and my trembling is only getting stronger, because I'm losing the remnants of control over myself.

I'll never tell him this in my life. Never. I won't tell him I need him. I'll never say that I want him to comfort me.

He doesn't wait for any request or approval from me. He just pulls me to him and hugs me. Presses me to his body, stroking my back, my head.

"It's okay. Everything is fine. You hear me? Everything will be fine. Come with me, come home. It's okay. You're safe now. You're safe. I won't let anything happen to you."

I didn't ask my hands to go up and wrap around his neck. I didn't ask my body to cling to his. But I hug him back.

He exhales sharply, stands for a few moments in indecision, and then continues stroking me again as he's whispering in my ear.

"We'll fix everything, do you hear? Everything will be fine. Nobody else gets hurt. I'll think of something. I'll rectify it."

I want to believe that we'll fix everything and that everything will be fine. We could rewind time. Go back to the past. I want him to promise me this. I want him to save me. Pulled out of this cage of my own emotions. And I want to stay in these arms. It's like I've spent my whole life in these arms.

We're not here anymore. We're back at the base. And everything is fine. And James lives alone in his cozy untouched apartment and goes to Benny every day, and she swears bad words. And Kenji continues to serve, throwing his ridiculous jokes at everyone and getting slaps on the back of the head and discontented looks. And Adam waits for the moment to sneak into my bedroom again, to hug me, to hold me close to him and to promise me salvation. And Warner…

"Jesus… Juliette, please… Don't be afraid. You hear? No one will hurt you. I won't hurt you." Warner pulls away from me slightly, looks into my eyes. My brain is on fire, ready to explode from at the impossibility of this moment. "Everything will be fine. Please don't cry. Your tears break my heart."

I only now realize that I allowed myself to cry for real, not restraining myself anymore. His clothes are wet with my tears, my sobs drown out my own mind, my face is contorted with a grimace of sorrow. But the tenderness in his gaze makes this storm subside for a moment, along with a sigh comes a calm. He smiles weakly at me, a small sad smile. And his thumbs brush my cheeks, wiping away my tears. And his eyes… There's such genuine kindness in them, and care, and sympathy, and…

"It's unbearable to see you cry. Please… I can't stand to see you suffer." His voice is just a whisper, barely audible, comforting. He leans closer to me again, strokes me soothingly, presses his cheek to my temple, speaks against my hair. "Your torment breaks my heart… Please… I can't bear it… I can't… I love you so much…"

Two stars collide in space, creating a new black hole. I can't understand what he's saying. I can't tell if I misheard it or if he actually said it. How can he say something like that? I guess it just seemed to me in this stream of his incoherent whispers and my own thoughts, drowned out by the beats of my heart in my ears. It's like nonsense, delirium. Because in reality, this just can't be.

I lean away from him, look into his eyes in disbelief.

"No, you don't."

"I do. I love you so much. Madly. You have no idea."

He seems intoxicated. His half-lidded eyes close. It seems he can no longer hold his head, and he touches my forehead with his.

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[infinitethree]

“No, what the fuck is wrong with you,” Daz says, annoyed as he takes the knife away from Aster.

His– whatever they are to each other– glowers at him as he yet again demonstrates how to cut vegetables.

“It's going to be cooked anyway,” Aster complains.

He scoffs at him. “Cutting them so haphazardly fucks up how cooked they are. The tiny ones will be overcooked, the big chunks will still be half raw.”

Rolling his eyes, Daz tells him, “Just go sit down. I clearly overestimated you. I swear to fuck, if anyone knew how dogshit you are with cutting something–”

Aster  evidently annoyed by the dismissal, leans in and murmurs, “You’re the one who marries me. I wonder how many times you'll take care of me before we…how do you put it? Die of old age together in our sleep?”

Heat blooms across his face. “Shut up, that's–”

He's dragged into a vision again.

Aster stares at a loaf of crafted bread that's visibly been tampered with.

Dream laughs as he looms above him. “Weren’t you hungry? I can hear your stomach from here. Go on; eat up.”

Looks like weakness. Better than poison, Aster thinks, taking the loaf and scarfing it down.

And then another vision.

The two of them are snuggled up together on the couch, a blanket over them. There’s a movie on, but Future-Aster can't stop looking at Future-Daz.

As his fingers slowly twist around fluffy, golden curls, Future-Aster suddenly murmurs, “I'm yours.”

The future version of Daz snaps his attention to him. A shy smile creeps up. “Yeah?” “Just like you're mine.”

Back in his own body, Daz fights the surge of misplaced longing he feels.

They're not that close, not yet. Just because it happens eventually…

Goosebumps rise on his arms as Aster suddenly asks him, “What does it mean when we tell each other ‘yours’ and ‘mine’?”

He jolts, his earlier blush morphing into a fire. He's sure his face is as red as a tomato right now. “I–! It’s– it's an admin thing, it's–”

“I don't think I should be having this much fun making you flustered. But also…you do kinda deserve it,” Aster hums.

He glares at him. “Fuck off. Don't abuse what you learn about me like that.”

It startles him when he's suddenly backed against the counter. Aster is too close, and there's this look–

“Do you have any idea how much it hurts to see inside your head?”

…What?

Aster stares at him, voice low as he continues, “It makes me feel like a piece of shit for never noticing you quietly bleeding out in front of us. Your nightmares– how many nights did you wake up choking down screams and then text me a stupid question, because you were terrified I was dead?”

There's a lump in his throat and his gaze skitters away. He lost track a long time ago.

With a shuddering breath, Aster rests his head on Daz’s shoulder. “Do you have any idea what it's like to realize that while I was resenting you, your mental stability hinged on whether or not I told you what my least favorite kind of fruit is at four am? To know your nightmares are haunted by me being dead or suffering a fate worse than death? That–”

Horrifyingly, Aster’s breathing hitches and there's a dampness at his shoulder.

“That I was so fucking important to you, but you hid it behind being a bastard! If you had just said something–!”

Daz awkwardly hugs him, shifting his weight to be a bit more comfortable.

He knew his mind was an ugly place, but he hadn't really…given much thought to how poorly Aster, of all people, would be handling it.

For some reason, he didn’t expect it to really phase him. For a while he was sure that it would be used against him, but instead…it’s like it’s a bigger weakness for Aster.

“It wasn't just you,” he tries to reason.

Pretty sure that's worse.

Aster tells him, shoulders shaking, “Don't fucking lie to me. Not about this. Your nightmares about me are uniquely horrible. When I'm dead, I look like I've been mauled. When I'm not, death would be kinder.”

No matter how much he tries to wrack his brain for which ones could have triggered this sort of response, he can’t think of any that are especially bad.

Yeah, that's the point. They all suck. Kinda funny how he often has such a big role, though. Sure you weren’t into him already?

He’s not going to dignify that with a response.

Daz swallows. “I can see how that would be…upsetting.” “I resent seeing it, and then I feel even worse because you don’t get a break from this– this bullshit.”

On impulse, he frees Aster’s hair from the low, short ponytail he keeps it pulled back in. It makes it easier to be able to card a hand through his hair, trying to mimic the motions that soothe Daz.

Seeing Aster, of all people, break down like this…hurts.

It hurts, because he knows Aster is strong. He’s stupidly, superhumanly, impossibly strong, honing himself into a deadly weapon to protect those he loves.

Seeing someone break down like this reminds him too much of–

Of others. Wilbur, Dream, Innit. Himself, maybe. The rug getting yanked and showing that what he assumed to be floor was nothing more than sand that simply hadn’t shifted yet.

In a desperate attempt to stop that sand from collapsing entirely, he murmurs, “I’m used to it. I don’t know how to be any different.”

It’s not even a lie. He’s lived with nightmares for most of his life, though they only got this bad in Sanctuary. Before, he could mostly tolerate them…though with Dream, he didn’t need to.

And then everything went wrong, and his safe haven turned into a waking nightmare.

“That makes it worse,” Aster mutters, and at that point Daz realizes that dinner is pretty much impossible.

He gently lifts Aster’s chin up. “Go get ready for bed. I’ll clean up real quick and join you. Getting this emotional is exhausting, you’ll end up passing out in the food anyway.”

For a long moment, Aster searches his expression, and then scoffs. “Not like I could tell if you were hiding something,” he mutters, and Daz feels a pang of guilt.

Still, he confirms, “No. Not unless things were really bad.”

Aster steps away, and for a split second Daz feels surreally unmoored without his weight.

Metaphor, Innit hums, once again playing the unwanted peanut gallery.

Once I'm out, you won't have to deal with it any more. 

True. Daz makes quick work of storing or trashing the ingredients, turning appliances off, and making some sandwiches so they don't go entirely hungry.

He opens the door and finds Aster anxiously messing with his earrings on the edge of the bed.

Daz sits next to him and offers a sandwich.

Aster wordlessly takes it and starts eating.

Once Daz finishes his food, he finally talks. “You shouldn't feel guilty. I'm a good liar, and I know how to make you overlook things you'd otherwise question. I spent years making sure you never liked me too much.”

“Which you're aware is fucked up, right?”

He sighs. “Can you really blame me? In my shoes, with that belief– that pattern…would you really not make plans?”

Aster is quiet.

Slowly, he says, “I see the logic, yes. But that doesn't mean it doesn't kill me to know you’ve lived with that for so long.”

“Nobody would believe that between us, you're the one with a bleeding heart,” he huffs.

Aster twists to look at him, brow furrowed. “You care, too. You care enough to be the unflinching support the server needs, both openly and not. You care enough to see the potential in four people who were floundering. You care enough to build a fortress for someone who you want to keep safe.”

He swallows. “Those were for my own benefit.” “You think the rest of us got nothing from working with you? C'mon– don't make it a double standard,” Aster scoffs.

His future partner continues, “Like I told Day– you built us into who we are today. You're somebody precious to us, no matter how much you don't want to accept that.”

Daz’s throat is tight as Aster cups his face and presses their foreheads together. In a voice heavy with emotion, his something says, “I dunno if I'm in romantic love yet, or anything. But I know I already love you platonically. You have been a central pillar of my new life. Everything I have now, I can trace back to your influence. Let's not kid ourselves; my relationships with Theo and Lee are as strong as they are because of you. The support and guidance you've shown me is clearer than ever, now that you're not trying so hard to make me hate you. I keep finding new ways you’ve helped me without ever taking credit for it. How can I not love you for that?”

I don't think he ever could have killed you. Not for real.

Yeah, Daz is beginning to suspect that, too.

Is this really how Aster feels about him? It's not that he actually thinks it's a lie– he knows Aster too well to think that– it's just that, well…

It feels strange. He worked so hard to keep a gulf between them, yet they're closer than ever.

Some deep part of him– not Innit, an actual instinct– purrs, mine.

So he follows his gut and murmurs, “Saying yours and mine reinforces a claim. Admins need claims to function properly. A two-way claim is…really, really important. Being allowed to claim someone is monumental as it is. Having that claim reciprocated is something else entirely. Being reminded of that kind of claim makes an admin feel more secure in it.”

He hesitates a moment, then snuggles up to him. Into Aster’s chest, he admits, “That’s why I used to braid Dream’s ribbon into his hair every morning. It reinforced our bond and reminded him that I cared about him in that specific way.”

Aster’s arms wrap around him like a habit. It feels warm and strangely safe. “Day called me a while back and asked what would happen if someone I had a duo with lost their half. I didn't really understand then, but…claims aren't just signifiers, are they? To an admin, that is the bond.”

“Rejecting a claim item is like rejecting the admin. It– as far as we could figure out, claims are like…a form of protection. A warning to others that harming a claimed person will invoke the wrath of the admin who loves them. So by rejecting it, it's like a– a signal that we're not good enough to do that. That we're unworthy.”

Aster’s breath hitches. Quietly, he whispers, “Oh.”

Daz peers up at him. There’s a stricken look on his face.

“Tubbo was the only one who accepted you until Dream. He didn't understand, but he did it because you needed it. If admins need people who they've claimed…”

Heart aching, Daz admits, “He kept me sane most of my life. I loved Dream and wished he had been my brother, but Tubbo already was my brother. The Dream SMP was meant to be a paradise. A land of peace and safety, where I wouldn’t ever have to be lonely or scared. A place where my family– my real family, the people who loved me more than anything– where they would be happy and protected. As long as I had the two of them, I would have been happy.”

“And then you lost them both in one fell swoop.”

“Yeah. I lost the only real family I’d ever had, my mentor, my sense of safety, my peace of mind, my plans– fuck, I was going to have everything! I was going to be an admin, standing side by side with my mentor! Tall and proud and worthy, unable to be hurt or taken away from the place and people I loved. That server was my home, that base was my home!”

He started gripping the front of Aster’s hoodie at some point, the dam of memories and emotions too overwhelming not to reach for an anchor. “And it was my fault! That stupid fuckin’ enchantment was my idea! Dream hated it– he fought it over and over and over, and it was me who kept pushing for it! I wanted us to be safe, to have peace of mind– to give us an edge so that even if someone fucked around, we would be alive to make them find out.”

Aster is quiet, letting him get it out. He just strokes Daz’s hair, because he’s probably learned that’s one of the best ways to calm him down.

“But that stupid fuckin’ bastard got in the way. He tried to use me as bait– would have killed me, if they fucked the potions up. Almost did it anyway, from magic overload. Dream was terrified to even try a totem, y’know? That’s how much magic was in me. Even after the effects were wiped, I spent the night sobbing and having seizures in his arms. Whatever control Dream had– whatever kindness he had left? It shattered. That single fuckin’ act, it triggered everything. But the enchantment…that was me. That was my fault. I should have pushed harder for an item. It would have been so easy to enchant an anklet or something, but I was stubborn. So was he.”

It was what we thought was best. How could we have known it would end like that?

“We wanted to give him peace of mind. He was so scared something would happen– that I’d be in danger. We thought…we thought that if we had protection in our very souls, or respiration, or whatever, that he’d breathe easier.”

We were proud of it, though. Proud that he needed us so badly.

“We were his only hope. His– his sun. His heart. We hollowed out his chest and made it our home. Every time he chose us, we rejoiced. Our base instead of the Dream Team house; his days spent in our company instead of with his friends. His nights protecting us from nightmares. Teaching us everything he knew and delighting in how we grew, and grew, and grew. We were a force to be reckoned with,” Daz murmurs.

Aster is watching him, still letting him get this out. But, softly, his friend and future partner murmurs, “You’ve become the king of rabbits, haven’t you?”

It makes him laugh, softly and sadly. “Even a mouse will fight, if cornered. Don’t we embody that?” “We do. Pyrrhic victories were good enough for us, as long as those bastards lost something, too.”

He shifts to snuggle closer, hands tangling in Aster’s hair. “I think I’m starting to see why I fall for you. You’re a good person, Aster. I don’t…I don’t think I’d want someone else to see my past. Or be my future.”

Aster toys with a strand of his hair, and from the tone of his voice, it sounds like he’s smiling. “You wanna tell people we’re dating, then?”

“...Yeah. I– I think that’d be nice.”

Daz grins, shifting to look up at him. He was right; Aster’s expression is warm. “You’re not ready for being taken on dates.”

“If you take me to Serf and Turf, I will walk out, consequences be damned,” Aster warns, eyes thinning a little.

He scoffs, “No, no, that’s too obvious. If I was going to mess with you…hmm. You’ll see. But, nah, I mean just– real dates. Sanctuary has a lot of fun places I know you’ve never even heard of. Plus, I dare you to tell me you wouldn’t want to team up for Bedwars.”

Aster’s eyes light up. “Nobody would stand a chance.” “It’d be really funny to do it as a training exercise, you know.”

There’s a bright, cheerful laugh. “That almost sounds cruel.” “They’d just take it as a challenge,” Daz scoffs, “The Swords and Shields aren’t going to bow out just from getting nuked from orbit.”

He’s glad the topic shifted, because this sort of banter is a lot easier than the heavy stuff from before.

Voice still warm and fond, Aster hums, “Thank you. I’m honored you shared some of your past with me like this. It means a lot. Any time you want to talk, I’ll listen. About your past, about your present, about dumb things that bother you. If we’re gonna have a family eventually, we should…get used to that kind of communication.”

Daz’s throat feels tight, and he finds himself blinking tears away. “I– yeah. Uhm…yeah, you– you’re right,” he mumbles, feeling oddly shy.

Aster smiles, and lets his hand drop. “I’d lay down right now, but you’re not ready for bed. I don’t wanna risk falling asleep without you.”

He feels his cheeks turn pink. “I– uh, why?”

“I don’t sleep as well. I get restless and wake up over and over. So you help me too,” Aster answers.

Daz…doesn't know how to answer that.

He's reminded of Dream, who said something similar. How he just– could sleep easier, with Daz curled up in his arms.

For once, the comparison to Dream doesn't grate against from as badly. Of all the things to have in common with that bastard– and Aster really does have a disquieting amount of them– this is one he can accept.

It's good he isn't making things worse, anyway.

You probably gave him a shitload of new nightmares, Innit unhelpfully points out. Your mind sucks to be in.

Daz sighs, reluctantly getting up. He really doesn't need Innit to ruin this moment more.

I'll ruin your weirdchamp budding romance once I'm free, it reminds him.

“Yeah, yeah, you know I'm working on that,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. To Aster, he says, “I'll go get bedworthy–” “Bedworthy?”

Aster incredulous and amused tone makes him grin, too. “I mean– my bed is nice, yeah? Can't just get in with anything.” “At this point, it's really more our bed. And I say that's stupid.”

Daz blinks. It's…a fair point.

Actually, do beds count as assets? He’s pretty sure houses do, but he’s unsure about furniture.

Huh. Something to look up, he supposes.

Well, it's not like it really matters. Future-Aster is completely and utterly smitten with him, and Daz sure as fuck would never consider a divorce.

Come to think of it, he's going to need to smother his future husband and current boyfriend in so many gifts.

Especially clothes. He'll have to inspect the construction of Aster’s current wardrobe to dissect and improve.

And if he sneaks in some swirls or hidden golden thread, well…

Hey, it'll get the point across.

Because Aster is his now. They know they get married and have a family together, yeah, but not many others do.

But dating and visibly being claimed would–

Wait.

He realizes all at once that he wants to claim Aster. He wants to create something for him, wants to make an item to declare that nobody is allowed to harm him.

And he knows what he makes, right? It's a bit grating to just copy it, though, almost like cheating–

You know, Innit murmurs, an odd tone to its voice, I'm pretty sure the timeline changed a bit. I don’t think the versions of you you’re seeing saw the future. If things have already shifted, I don't see a point in doing the same claim. Do something new.

That's…a fair point, albeit a distressing one.

He's gotten attached to the sweet, stubborn kid he keeps getting glimpses of. He's gotten attached to the life he sees, too.

If things have changed, how much of that will be different? How much of the future he sees is already or will become impossible?

It's something to discuss later. For now, all he needs to focus on is getting ready for bed and sleeping.

How wonderful, to be able to look forward to falling asleep. How precious, to know his sleep will be gentle and unburdened by nightmares. How lovely, to feel safe in someone's arms again.

Much like Aster, Daz doesn’t really know if what he feels is romantic love.

But he’s familiar with platonic love. He can’t help it; he’s an admin, and when he cares, he cares deeply.

Aster has been in his heart for longer than he's wanted to admit. Not solely, of course, and definitely not romantically.

But he’s still been there. He's been there physically, too; despite the bullying and active attempts to piss him off, Aster has been a bedrock. 

They’ve been united in their goal in a way none of the others are. They definitely care more than average, sure, but he and Aster are just…devoted.

And that level of devotion will be directed at each other, eventually.

It would be terrifying if he didn't know that Aster will care for him so deeply. It's impossible not to notice; any time he's in Future-Aster's head, he's mushy and warm and adoring.

He's a simp, basically.

Maybe that's what he needs, though; someone who he can truly let down his guard with. A person who loves him enough to start a family with him; a person who he can spill his secrets to and then have his tears wiped away and fears soothed.

It sounds so wonderfully impossible, yet he knows it's real.

[notreallythatlost]

AAAAAA THIS WAS AMAZING

JUST FREAKING AMAZING I CAN’T

i have so much to say so here we go…

You had pulled him close to your breast and sank down into the petaled carpet of the forest floor, stroking his hair and listening as he raged on about the war in the north.

You love him like this; no cares, no worries of war. You can soothe him like no one else, a great source of pride whenever he mentions it.

LITERALLY A BABY

"You're staring, love." He smiles, snapping open his eyes and fixing you with an affectionate expression that makes your heart melt.

STARING AT YOU??? ALWAYS

"Love, we have to go, come now," he holds you firmly by the arms, shaking you a little to clear your mind of the dust and debris and blood on the streets of Gondolin.

the whole scene has me in pieces, she had to leave everything behind (for that i would curse morgoth too)

The crushing weight of the love in his hole of a heart moves his hand before he can stop himself. With gnawing doubt in his stomach, he wordlessly takes the knife from you, mixing his pitch black blood with your own on the page.

he really loves her, that‘s the proof 😭😭

"Forever and a day, a lonely fate will be yours. You shall not know the word of a friend, the loyalty of a follower, or the touch of a lover. I curse you to wander the Seen and Unseen world alone, craving the connection you sought to sunder here."

THAT IS WHAT HE DESERVES AND NOTHING LESS

"The Valar will never look upon me favourably, beloved. I could present them Melkor in chains and they would only bind me to him."

AHH STOP THESE LINES I‘M CRYING

"I don't need to. Love, you will join me." His desperation becomes honeyed, dripping with the devotion you so crave from him.

devotion? sounds more like obsession 🧐

"Who do you think you are?" He hisses, venom in every word; you don't recognise him, cold terror in your heart at the sudden switch, as if someone had doused the candle burning for you in his heart with oil, engulfing him with wildfire.

HOW DARE YOU ASKING THAT QUESTION???

"I know exactly who I am. I'm the woman who leaves you."

my heart just broke

"And where will you go? Your people are scattered and displaced, and who would take you in if they knew?" His sweetly honeyed words still bite at your heart, settling in the pit of your stomach.

i would‘ve killed him for this words

He pushes his thigh between your legs, letting you grind yourself against him instinctively, and he groans, deep and low in his chest.

what… what did i say?

His clever fingers usually make light work of the laces of your corset, but his impatience defeats him, and he pulls a dagger from the lining of his robes, slicing cleanly through the fabric.

Twin crowns, wrought in black iron, twisted and wicked, emanating a dark power that made you nauseous; ready for the heads of Middle Earth's new King and Queen. (…) He falls to his knees, his head in line with your mound. He looks up at you, locking his gaze with yours, and delves into your folds with his tongue, seeking your pleasure. (…) He worships at your altar, an acolyte to your pleasure, drawing unearthly sounds from deep within you, willing you to just stay and be his.

screaming, crying, throwing up

"If you were to leave me," he moans against your heated skin, stroking his cock against your thigh, "there would be no rest for any bird, beast, or being in this land, no sleep, no sustenance, these lands would burn until you were returned to me."

A chorus of "mine" and "please" fill the air, and you're unsure whose voice is the louder, who is more desperate in their claiming of the other.

i’m always forgetting about breathing oml

It is only when you finally see daylight, pushing open the great black doors to the fortress, that you can breathe a sigh of relief. If you can just get a headstart, perhaps you'll be able to outrun him.

noo stoop 😭

As he lay in a pool of thick black blood, his last thought was of you; how could you betray him? And thank the Valar you did.

It is as you contemplate your frozen breath in the air, that you realise you can't feel him. A vacuum in your mind, a void in your heart that you haven't experienced in more than a thousand years, and you can barely recognise that it is his absence that has left such a hole.

this whole fic left a hole in my heart too

i have to go… doing things… crying

Haunted (Sauron/F!Reader)

...by the kiss you should never have given me

Lots of mini-chapters add up to an omnibus of angst, as we follow Sauron through the centuries and discover exactly what happened before his coronation.

Sequel to To Have and To Hold // Prequel to In the Dark of the Night // AO3 Link

Soundtrack: Kiss Me Harder by Jordan Fiction, Judas by Lady Gaga, Angels by Within Temptation, Heaven's A Lie by Lacuna Coil, NFWMB by Hozier

Warnings: 18+! Angst, smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, manipulation, toxic relationship (more overt towards the end), obsessive!Sauron, soft!Sauron (yes the two can coincide), knifeplay (just a tiny bit), blood magic, Sauron is a bit of a dick towards the end, sorry, accidental prey/predator kink, knifeplay (again, tiny bit), grinding, slightly dubious consent (you do want it, but I'll tag anyway), oral sex (female receiving), P in V sex, more blood.

A/N: little bit of jumping around in this one, sorry, we start just after the wedding, then we jump to the fall of Gondolin, a little magic ritual in the middle, then the fallout from the sinking of Beleriand (why do you keep getting caught up in this??), then we close out the First Age with a little argument before someone's coronation! Little slices of their romance in quick succession! I went a little experimental in the form of this one, with a bunch of flashbacks informing the main plot at the end. I hope it works 🤞

Special thanks to @olchr-1 for the idea for our revenge on Morgoth!!

Translation note: Amartherui translates in Sindarin to "lonely fate" [Fate (amarth) Alone (erui)]

Word Count: 6k!

Fingers entwined with his, head on his chest, you were enthralled by him, by every pretty word and sweet gesture. Every time he came to visit, you would spend days on end in your secluded glade, to make up for his inexplicably long periods of absence. Sometimes he would come to you with dizzying tales of his latest triumphs, preening under your undivided attention. But lately he had taken to returning under black clouds, tetchy where he was usually playful, and rough where gentleness once reigned.

You had pulled him close to your breast and sank down into the petaled carpet of the forest floor, stroking his hair and listening as he raged on about the war in the north. You had kin fighting the armies of Morgoth, and knew his sorrows all too well, but something behind his eyes told you it was more than he was letting on.

You weave strands of his hair into elaborate braids in your lap, before undoing them and creating something greater in their stead. He eventually quiets under your idle fiddling, eyes drifting shut with a contented smile gracing his face, like a cat napping in the afternoon sun. You love him like this; no cares, no worries of war. You can soothe him like no one else, a great source of pride whenever he mentions it.

You gaze down at his unearthly smooth features and trace each contour with your eyes; your fingers slow in their busy work, moving gently across his scalp, lazily twisting his hair around your finger, making a ring to match the one he'd gifted you, ornate and bejeweled, glittering with an impossible inner light, to replace the woven band of purple iris that he'd improvised on the night of your wedding.

"You're staring, love." He smiles, snapping open his eyes and fixing you with an affectionate expression that makes your heart melt.

"Is a wife not allowed to stare at her husband? Are there no privileges to marriage at all?" Your voice is soft but your tone is mischievous, and he smirks.

"I can think of a few, ah, privileges, dearest, in fact we have exercised a few already today." He raises his eyebrows, before pulling you down to meet his lips. "But if you need reminding, you need only ask."

-

You had agreed to meet in the same secluded glade at the next new moon, but he never showed. The hours you wasted awaiting his return were at first exciting, full of electric anticipation that only love's first bloom can give. As the moon slowly passed overhead, and twinkling stars gave way to blazing sun, you shed many a tear at your folly. Perhaps he had been some mirage, an illusion to tempt you? Or perhaps the depth of his feeling did not match yours, a fleeting thought you had to bury deep in case it irrevocably shattered your heart.

You frequent the glade every so often, convincing yourself that it was a perfectly fine place to pass your time, and that you were not reminded of his warm hands or even warmer smile, every time you visit. Deceiving yourself that it meant much less to you than it did, that if he returned now after so much time with no word or warning, you would not jump into his open arms without a second thought.

Your heartache is apparent to your friends and kin, who assume you're suffering the grief they all feel, having lost so many of their kind to Morgoth's rampage in the north. How little they knew; how little you knew.

It is only when one good friend mentions the siege at Angband, that you are struck with the terrible notion that the man you cursed for abandoning you, might not have done it willingly after all. That perhaps, Valar forbid, he had perished in the siege. He had mentioned fighting in the war after all, but you had not connected that with his absence. After all, he had promised to return to you, on the morning after you had met, having shared a blissful slumber in each other's arms. He held your hands to his lips and swore he would see you again, and now it makes sense. Now you have a real reason to grieve, you realise, and the anger roiling within you turns cold, an icy pit in your stomach as tears fall freely and your heart wrenches and cracks. You were to only have one night with him, and you might never even discover his true fate.

You reason with yourself that surely you would feel if the other half of you had flown this mortal plain. But the alternative was much crueler, and to believe him dead was somehow a less hopeless fate.

Centuries later when you look back, you curse yourself for not seeing who he was, and what he'd done, but how could you? He'd taken you as his own and that was such a strong spell to break, Eru himself would have had to step in.

-

To see your city fall at the hands of your husband’s master, you had no words, only wet hot tears as you watch your people die.

"Love, we have to go, come now," he holds you firmly by the arms, shaking you a little to clear your mind of the dust and debris and blood on the streets of Gondolin.

"I can't, I can't leave them, I have to find-"

"No, we're evacuating, you're not staying a minute longer. I should not have let you linger here when He appeared on the horizon, we should have-"

You tug your arm from his vice-like grip. "Should have what? Should have left my people to wrack and ruin? We have to..." Your mind is so murky, filled with thoughts of leaving, running as far as you can with him, despite your overwhelming urge to stay and help where you can.

"We have to leave. You know there is nothing we can do for them, He will leave none alive, and I won't have you-" he can't say it, he can't even entertain the notion of you coming to harm; his fingers tighten their grip, almost painful in their desperation.

He should have foreseen this, he should have gotten you to safety when he first had an inkling that his master finally knew where the Hidden City was.

"We have to go back, I need to go back, I can't leave-"

After a thousand years, his magic had kept your tiny wedding band of iris in full bloom, untouched by the passage of time, kept safe in an ornate gilded chest, made by his own fair hands. And it was sitting in your apartments on the other side of the city, where your kin doubtless waited for you to leave with them. The sentiment in your heart held you steadfast against his shaking and pleading.

"Love, we can't stay here-" he is interrupted by explosions overhead, as the enemy host draw closer.

"You don't understand-"

"Whatever it is, it doesn't matter, you're the only thing that matters. We have to go!" He never raises his voice to you, so you're a little dumbstruck when he growls at you.

"But we have to save them!" You stop in your tracks, feet rooted to the ground, indignant at the idea of abandoning your friends and neighbours to their doom.

"Amarië," his voice is suddenly so soft, it disquiets you, brings you back to the present. "Love, they're gone. There is no saving to be done."

Sauron is a stranger to remorse, to sorrow, but at the effect of his words, a pang of guilt sweeps through him when he tells you that in all the world, he is all you have now. He tries to ignore the warm thrill he feels in the pit of his stomach, that this great cataclysm has brought about the fate he always wanted for the two of you: just you and he, no one else to rob him of your attention.

You wanted to feel deeply all the grief and pain that one would expect at being told their life was over.

Instead you just felt numb, haunted by the consequences of his actions.

-

"I curse him." Your husband's eyes grow wide at your words, grasping your hands as if to quiet you, but you press on.

"I curse Melkor, Morgoth Bauglir, to roam this earth alone. To never know peace, to never know that which he so jealously craves."

You feel you're taking Morgoth's curse rather well, all things considered. Sauron had to beg you not to storm Angband yourself after he had told you of his master's new name for you, cursing you to a forsaken existence, sundering you from your husband in all but spirit.

You had fought your way back to him countless times, and he to you; you had both vowed to continue to do so, but the rage and grief had not lessened with time, stoked to a towering inferno of wrath that threatened to break you any time you were reminded of it.

And after the fall of Gondolin, your rage at the Enemy was insatiable.

So you had your revenge.

"Enemy. Tyrant. Now I name you again."

In the dead of night, flickering candlelight casting ominous shadows over your face, Sauron cannot help but admire you, crave you, as you corrupt his master's fate.

You slice open your hand, squeezing your palm over the parchment before you, watching as crimson splashes through the stark black lettering.

Amartherui.

"Help me." You look him in the eye, your simple plea making his chest ache; he has never said no to you, his sweet wife, but this is the first time he has been tempted.

"Amarië..." his soft sigh almost convinces you to abandon your plan, but the fury bubbling in your veins is too great.

"Beloved, will you help me or not? Your power would bring this curse to fruition, but if you will have no part in it, you should leave." You stand taller, drawing yourself up to match his gaze, impossible as that may seem.

"I have never asked you for anything. Please do this for me."

The crushing weight of the love in his hole of a heart moves his hand before he can stop himself. With gnawing doubt in his stomach, he wordlessly takes the knife from you, mixing his pitch black blood with your own on the page.

You smile, a weight lifting from your shoulders instantly, and you pull him down to kiss him hard, leaving a red streak on his neck.

"I name you, Morgoth, as my people have long titled you, Amartherui." His new name falls off your tongue like a dream, and you cannot help but smile, your wicked deed complete, as you set the parchment alight, the flames glowing a sickly grey-green as the candles flicker and the room darkens, long shadows growing where the light had tentatively reigned.

"Forever and a day, a lonely fate will be yours. You shall not know the word of a friend, the loyalty of a follower, or the touch of a lover. I curse you to wander the Seen and Unseen world alone, craving the connection you sought to sunder here."

In the back of your mind, there is some semblance of guilt. There is nothing good in the act you just performed, nothing virtuous or pure in your revenge; it's cold and calculated, vicious and spiteful.

Transcending the bounds of time and space, you can feel your curse has taken effect, something shifting in the air between you and your husband.

Sauron has never loved you more, and he shows you many times that night the depth of his feelings.

-

You watch as more refugees stagger into your haven with naught more than the clothes on their backs, waiting to help and heal and offer your comfort where you can. The war has left such a dreadful path of destruction in its wake; thousands of your kin are displaced as the host of the Valar battle their way to Angband, and your people had chosen where the river Sirion meets the sea as their secret haven.

It has been decades since the armies of Valinor first arrived on the shores of Middle Earth, and the end was drawing near, according to your husband, who was waiting with you in the safety of the havens and watching closely.

"I'll see you when I'm finished here," you whisper as you reach up to plant a kiss on your husband's lips. "It'll probably be late, don't wait up for me."

He gives you an affectionate smile; how could he not wait for you? Even if he did partake in sleep, he would not be able to rest without you at his side.

"I'll be up, return to me soon." He is reluctant to let you go, but your skills are in such dire need while the city is inundated with the sick and injured.

Before the War, it was uncommon for Elves to suffer such fates, being hardy in soul and body, but Morgoth's darkness had infiltrated much of the land and infected so many of your kin. Soldiers, innocent bystanders, there were hardly any who were unaffected, and fighting the darkness was a constant effort on your part, and the team of healers you had trained in the magics of your people.

"My lady, they are calling for you." The herald's voice shakes you from Sauron's gaze, and he huffs impatiently.

"I must go." You reluctantly begin to pull away, but he draws you back, pulling you close and wrapping you up in an embrace you could cling to for an age.

"I love you," he murmurs in your ear. "When this is all over, we shall establish the greatest kingdom this land has ever seen."

"If there is a land left." You try to remain hopeful but the news of the siege at Angband is never good, never hopeful, and you fear your home will never be free of Morgoth's influence.

"I am your home," your husband, your Mairon, reminds you, tracing your cheek softly, and you cannot help but return his radiant smile.

"I know, love, as I am yours." You press a soft kiss to his knuckles, taking the strength he offers, before departing to disperse your light where you can.

The darkness infects everything it touches, and it takes all of your energy and more to renew your broken and weary kin, who have travelled so far and fought so hard to reach the havens. Healing words and ancient spells woven into soft songs, settling over the city in a melodic shield, rejuvenating the minds and bodies of your people. You work late into the night, spreading the light where you can, easing the pitch black horror in the hearts of those who had seen the worst of Morgoth's endeavours.

The night is all-encompassing when you finally crawl into bed, nestling into Mairon's firm warmth, trying not to disturb him but feeling sweet relief when his hands trace your sides in greeting.

"I was going to come look for you," his deep voice rumbles in your chest as he presses himself against you.

"No need," you try to smile, but your voice cracks as his tenderness breaks your defences, and all the heartache of the day pours out of you like blood from a wound.

His heart wrenches. He has no business feeling such emotions as remorse, but once again you have him feeling in ways that he dislikes intensely.

"I'm sorry, my love." And he is. He is actually sorry for causing you pain, the rest of Middle Earth be damned.

You sigh and take his hand, holding it over your heart.

"I know, love." You ponder your next question, whether it is a good idea to ask, but you ask anyway.

"You cannot assist in the efforts against Him? I'm sure the Valar would be grateful for your help, might even look favourably upon you-"

He interrupts you with a sigh and a kiss to your neck.

"The Valar will never look upon me favourably, beloved. I could present them Melkor in chains and they would only bind me to him."

Of course, he has thought about begging clemency, thought about fleeing with you to the edges of the world, even thought of taking you back to his master. But in the end, it was more prudent to keep you safe, and to watch and wait for the triumphant side to reveal themselves. Better to beg forgiveness from the victor than choose the wrong side.

-

"Tell me I'm wrong." You dare him to speak against you, your voice shaking in anger as your fists clench.

"My love, I-"

"No, I don't want falsehoods, I don't want games or lies or deceit, just tell me. Did you go to Eönwë as you promised?"

"I did. And I found their response wanting." In truth he had tried to make amends, tried to do penance for the ages he'd spent in Morgoth's service, but when it came to approaching Manwë for his pardon, his fear overtook him and he fled back to Angband, but he couldn't tell you that, couldn't tell you he'd been weak, pitiful, his courage failing him at the final steps to absolution.

And he definitely couldn't tell you that in order for his pardon to be granted, he would have to give you up, to avoid blackening your soul any further.

He'd rather suffer your eternal wrath than be sundered from you for even a moment.

"So you traded forgiveness for more lies." You clench your jaw, your head beginning to pound, the subtle throb becoming a stabbing pain in your temple.

"I did it for you."

"How? How is this for me?" You mock him, incensed now that he would deflect his deceit onto you.

He stands to comfort you but you rip your hands from his grasp before he can claim you.

"I do not know what to say. I thought I knew you, I thought you would do the right thing." You shake your head and laugh, your scorn stinging him as if it were a poisoned blade.

"Love, please-"

"No! No more lies. I've had it with trickery and deception, I want out." You whirl around to face him. "Shadow of Morgoth, they call you. You gather his armies to you once more, you refired his crown! So is that what you want? Do you want to be his second coming?"

In all honesty, no. His master's plans were beneath him; Morgoth wanted to break the world, Sauron wanted to reshape it, to balance and perfect it, by any means necessary.

"Please, listen to me, I need you by my side, now more than ever." He clutches your hands, heart pounding, looking deeply into your eyes, willing you to fall for his pretty words once more.

"You didn't answer me." Tears begin to prick your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall in front of him, stepping back to take a deep breath, to steady your nerves to face the man you thought you loved.

"I don't need to. Love, you will join me." His desperation becomes honeyed, dripping with the devotion you so crave from him.

"Don't. Don't do that." You whisper, as he stalks toward you slowly, his deception burning a hole in your heart that you're sure will never be filled.

"Don't you want to be with me? For all eternity, that is what we always said." He circles you, hands on your shoulders, in your hair, overwhelming you with his lover's touch, just a mite too rough.

"Not if this is your plan. I didn't marry Morgoth, I married Mairon." Sauron, your mind reminds you, and for a second you feel a wave of nausea overwhelm you.

His face twists and he pulls away.

"That is not my name." He growls, an ugly grimace taking over his lovely features.

"I've told you before, don't look inside my head!" You retort, his presence in your mind suddenly overwhelmingly obvious.

You throw him out of your mind, slamming the door shut, refusing him access to that which would be so freely given if he deserved it.

The tic in his jaw is back with a vengeance and his eyes are ablaze with a fury the like of which you have never seen.

"Who do you think you are?" He hisses, venom in every word; you don't recognise him, cold terror in your heart at the sudden switch, as if someone had doused the candle burning for you in his heart with oil, engulfing him with wildfire.

"I chose you, of all your people, as my wife; I could have had anyone, but I chose you. Aulë’s greatest smith, Melkor's most trusted lieutenant, lord of all the dark things that creep and crawl in this world. And who are you? My beloved wife." His tone is like poison in your veins, burning and spitting fire in your heart.

Who are you? He's right; who the hell do you think you are?

"I know exactly who I am. I'm the woman who leaves you."

You shall not be forsaken this time, not that doing the forsaking feels any sweeter. It wrenches every fibre of your being, your heart pounding in your chest, but you make it to the door of his chambers, hand on the doorknob, before he breaks from his stunned daze, crosses the room and clasps his hand over yours on the cool metal.

"And where will you go? Your people are scattered and displaced, and who would take you in if they knew?" His sweetly honeyed words still bite at your heart, settling in the pit of your stomach.

"I cannot stay here, not now that I know exactly what you are." You look up at him, holding his gaze, somehow fighting the urge to scratch and claw and bite your way free like a feral animal, suddenly overwhelmed with the sense that you should run as hard and fast as you can.

His eyes betray nothing, his lips curving into a condescending smirk, as he runs a finger down your cheek, gathering the tears you'd fought not to shed. He examines them as if he'd never seen their like, as if they were precious stones from the depths of the earth, mined just for him; he licks his fingers clean, turning his attention back to you, trembling under him as he cages you against the door.

"Please... please let me go." The look in his eye says begging will be useless, but you try anyway.

"You are my Queen. You're free to do as you please." He replies, voice smooth, with a pretty smirk and that predatory glint in his eye that would usually thrill you so, that still sends hot arousal pooling between your thighs, mixed with icy cold terror.

"It would please me to leave," you try to appeal to him, softening your voice, lowering your gaze.

"I'm sure it would..." he utters breathlessly as he takes you in, leaning over you, watching the artery in your throat jump in time to his own racing heartbeat.

"Mairon... please..." His lips are on yours before you can finish your plea, his hands tangled in your hair.

He pushes his thigh between your legs, letting you grind yourself against him instinctively, and he groans, deep and low in his chest.

"Even now, your body betrays you, my love."

You sigh against him, fingers raking his hair roughly, letting him caress your neck, your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he tries to expose you to his gaze. His clever fingers usually make light work of the laces of your corset, but his impatience defeats him, and he pulls a dagger from the lining of his robes, slicing cleanly through the fabric.

"That was my favourite," you admonish him, still angry with him; even as he takes you apart with his fingers and his tongue, you can't forget his plans, and you certainly can't ignore his gift to you, sitting by the window in all their glory.

Twin crowns, wrought in black iron, twisted and wicked, emanating a dark power that made you nauseous; ready for the heads of Middle Earth's new King and Queen. When you'd seen them, your blood ran cold, as you realised that once again, you'd been victim to Sauron’s deception.

"You will have a thousand more, dearest wife, whatever your heart desires," he promises breathlessly as he shucks off your dress, sliding it down your body, worshipping you with the lightest touch, soft kisses peppering your skin as he disrobes you. He falls to his knees, his head in line with your mound. He looks up at you, locking his gaze with yours, and delves into your folds with his tongue, seeking your pleasure.

You gasp, throwing your head back, as he spreads your legs to access your entrance, splitting you open with two fingers, still drawing every moan and whimper from your throat as he circles your clit, licking long strokes, tiny laps at your skin, letting you ride his face in your lustful haze. You grip his hair more roughly than you normally would, your wrath seeping into your lust, until you can't detect the distinction between the two.

He takes one of your legs and places it on his shoulder, letting you rest against him, both of you totally at the other's mercy. Such trust, such devotion, would you throw that away? Would you truly abandon him?

He worships at your altar, an acolyte to your pleasure, drawing unearthly sounds from deep within you, willing you to just stay and be his.

Your mind is racing as tendrils of his power cling to your lips, fighting for entrance to quiet your thoughts, and replace them with his sweet music. Wouldn't it just be easier? To let the darkness in?

You might as well, you muse in the back of your head, thoughts displaced by pleasure as the darkness feasts upon you.

He's solely focused on you; there is nowhere he would rather be in all of Arda. The unblemished shores of Valinor, the white trees that used to light the world, he can finally understand why his master was so hellbent on their destruction. For there is no beauty that should merit a comparison to you, and he would raze these lands to the ground to prove it.

You're drawing close, he realises, and briefly wonders whether to allow you your release on his lips.

You feel him pull away and moan, a tiny pitiful sound that makes him chuckle; of course you need him, of course you can't be without him, even in anger. Victory is nigh, and he pulls himself out of his robes to claim you once again.

He pushes you back, your name on the tip of his tongue, as he takes you in, breathes your air.

"You're mine," he growls, nuzzling your neck to better scent you. "Say it, say you'll always be mine."

"I will," you murmur softly, tears pricking your eyes as you hold him close.

"If you were to leave me," he moans against your heated skin, stroking his cock against your thigh, "there would be no rest for any bird, beast, or being in this land, no sleep, no sustenance, these lands would burn until you were returned to me."

He claims you in one thrust, filling you so completely, so sweetly, that you see stars, your breath stolen from your lungs as if it were the first time you'd ever laid eyes on him.

Your heart wrenches, pulling towards his, despite your entire being screaming at you.

You kiss him harder, your mind quietened as he bites your lip, droplets of blood wetting his tongue, quickening his insatiable need to be inside you in every way that is possible; mind, body, soul, all inextricably entwined.

The tears in your eyes threaten to fall, but you blink them back as he rocks into you, the chorus of your lovemaking drowning out all other notions. He plays you so well, a master in the art of drawing sweet melody from your lips; the harmony you both create together is unmatched to his ears, a Maia who helped sing the world into being.

A chorus of "mine" and "please" fill the air, and you're unsure whose voice is the louder, who is more desperate in their claiming of the other.

You feel him stiffen against you, his melody reaching a crescendo before yours, as he fills you with his pleasure, low groans in your ear bringing you to your peak as well. He wrings every last moan out of you, drawing out the coda of your song until there are no more notes to be played, no more pleasure to be taken.

Sweat-slicked and exhausted, you hold each other close, entwined so perfectly. You let him carry you to his bed, laying you down reverently, climbing in beside you and nestling you close, arms wrapping you tightly, refusing to let you move from his grasp.

You'd usually find such comfort in his embrace, but tonight there is an itch under your skin that his touch only amplifies, making you fight not to squirm beside him.

You cannot sleep for fear of letting him inside your head again, so when a knock at the door comes, you welcome it.

He sighs, long and loud in your ear, as evidence of his displeasure.

"I'll be back, love, there are matters I must attend to."

"Of course," you smile, fighting to make it meet your eyes.

He regards you carefully, brow furrowed.

"Do not fear, my love," he says softly as he leans down to kiss you once more. "I won't be long."

As he departs, he gives you one final look of longing, which you hasten to return with all the eagerness you can muster.

The door clicks shut, your expression falls, and you immediately disentangle yourself from the sheets,

Finding obscene amounts of your clothing and jewellery, and books beyond measure in his room was no surprise. He must have been preparing for this for years, if not longer.

Now that Morgoth was gone, the next phase of his plan could move forward, and that involved you, his Queen, taking up her rightful residence.

You dress as quickly as you're able, taking only what you can carry, and go to leave. But you notice a small ornate chest you thought you'd lost when Gondolin fell, sitting on the dresser by his bed as if it had always belonged there.

You feel as if you've been stabbed, a gut-wrenching heartache overwhelming you as you can do nothing but stand and stare.

He went back for it. He kept it all this time.

Your feet move of their own accord, and before you can blink, you've opened the chest, staring at the impossible artefact of your love for each other.

Unfurled purple petals, revealing a stark white centre, the woven band appearing as fresh as it did on the day he married you.

You hold it up, comparing it to the ring you currently wear. He really had somehow captured its likeness in a jewel, deep purple revealing a bright light in its centre, framed by ornate silver details.

You cannot bring yourself to slip it on, after all that has happened, his lies and broken promises, but you are loath to leave it.

Movement outside his chambers sends a shiver of panic through you, and you quickly move to hide behind the door. The subsequent banging has you quaking but you stand your ground, waiting for whomever it is to leave.

The door abruptly swings open, and you hear two gravelly voices discussing... you?

"Mistress?" The first call is softer, but their annoyance quickly becomes apparent as the other chimes in.

"Where is she then? They said to fetch her, but I'm not traipsing all over to find some she-Elf-"

"He won't even notice, Adar says he's too caught up in all his planning and his speeches, who cares about one missing Elf?"

"He wants them at least, over there. He'll have your head if we forget-"

"Why my head? You're the one he told-"

"Shut it and take 'em, careful now, there's magic in it still..."

Their voices fade as they shuffle back the way they came. As the door slams shut again, you realise that your husband already has an army of orcs at his disposal, and you reconsider what you're about to do, but only briefly.

Escaping the fortress is more of a task than you thought, requiring all the skills of subterfuge and swordplay that your husband has ever taught you; which is no small feat, considering the centuries you've had to learn.

Quietly slipping through the fortress mostly unnoticed, leaving the odd corpse in your wake as your husband's servants cross your path, unfortunately for them.

Thankfully the halls are mostly deserted, and you hear a clamour coming from deeper within, but you try to pay it no mind, focusing on your exit and nothing more.

It is only when you finally see daylight, pushing open the great black doors to the fortress, that you can breathe a sigh of relief. If you can just get a headstart, perhaps you'll be able to outrun him.

-

It is in the middle of his speech, appealing to his army for their continued support, that Sauron notices you are absent.

He'd sent for you when his moment of victory seemed nigh at hand, and had assumed you were readying yourself for your ascent, but now that he had persuaded Adar and his children to his cause, the sight of your face was all he wanted to see.

As he knelt before Adar, awaiting his rightful crown, he searched for you in his mind's eye. He did not expect to find you outside the black gates, breathing a sigh of relief in the watery sunlight.

A surge of rage overtook him as he clenched his jaw, settling on his knees. The mere thought of your abandonment had always made his heart twist and shatter, and at that moment, he had no heart. Just a void where it used to be.

Distracted by your torment, he barely noticed the first blow, as Adar struck him again and again with the crown that was meant to define your future together.

As he lay in a pool of thick black blood, his last thought was of you; how could you betray him? And thank the Valar you did.

-

A great blast of freezing cold air knocks you off your feet, and for a second you thought you heard his voice on the wind. It's all you can do to just lie there, covered in frost and shaking, trying to assess if you're at least physically intact, your emotional state another matter entirely.

Clutching your head as blood trickles down your face, you shakily get to your feet. It is as if someone has emptied the heavens of all its snow where before there was nothing but arid plains. The air is suddenly glacial, the ground frozen and cracking underfoot.

It is as you contemplate your frozen breath in the air, that you realise you can't feel him. A vacuum in your mind, a void in your heart that you haven't experienced in more than a thousand years, and you can barely recognise that it is his absence that has left such a hole.

You thought you might feel free when you were rid of him, but all you feel is empty, yearning for a presence that has haunted you for millennia.

[misophorism]

Captain's Log #2

I haven't logged into this account in about a year. The good news is that I have people in my life (one person) that I feel I can share things with without being ignored, something I haven't truly had before. On the other hand, I don't think this is something I actually need to say to another person.

I'm reflecting on writing. For the past two to three years, the overwhelming theme in all of it is anger.

It began truly with The Suicide & The Scythe. Obviously, in that book, I'm furious at Neiditch, and my anger expands as the book progresses. In my last novel, the anger is much more personal. The book, ASF, is about my childhood broadly, as well as a few other of my interests creating a concatenation of gothic tragedy, romance, childhood abuse and trauma, lasting resentment, addiction, alcoholism, suicide, and post-traumatic stress disorder. You're right: one of these things is not like the others. But there is also quite a bit of legalese in the book, which I will not be explaning.

Anyway, the protagonist, Alice, is overwhelmingly angry. This is a part of myself I haven't tackled before. Rage factors into The Misophorism Trilogy, of course, but it manifests as a response toward suffering more than anything. In The Misophorism Trilogy, anger is presented toward others for not understanding the principal emotion: despair.

Here, rage is that principal emotion. Alice's anger is fiery, explosive: searing, burning, blinding. It makes her deaf to the voice of reason, it renders her cruel, vengeful, vindictive. We are privy to some incredibly ugly thoughts aimed at her childhood and her mother. In The Misophorism Trilogy, Death is a desideratum. In ASF, it's what the object of Alice's wrath, her mother, deserved long ago. Fantasies of violence: white knuckles, gritted teeth, clenched steering wheels.

Alice's anger has been brewing for almost twenty years, and it has manifested in distrust toward others, rabidly vicious attempts to set boundaries and keep her walls up, and the complete eradication of any close relationships. She has been wronged so often, for so long, that she cannot help but wish to wrong back: to snap at anyone who would dare tell her a wallowing story, demand her attention, guilt trip her. Nobody cared about her when she was suffering, so she cares about no one.

Obviously, all of this is deeply autobiographical.

I sincerely hope none of my readers are reading this right now because I just gave away the plot. But I do this because this reflects, I think, the main conflict of my life in the past four years, which is essentially the same as Alice's. I'm furious. I want to hurt. I want to attack, maim, beat, scream: I want to inflict so much harm on those who have hurt me for so long that it can tear me apart. I can almost never get closure; I am never apologized to, I am always blamed, always on the receiving end. And when I respond in kind, it's my fault that things escalated.

Obviously this is a simplistic and almost childish reflection of wrongs and rights, but this is often how it feels emotionally: a wild, frenetic, primal anger that has just barely been held in abeyance for years.

I started a new manuscript a few days ago, and if it goes in the direction I think it will, Alice's anger will look like practice. There is substantial unresolved hurt here. This is the only way I can deal with it. All Gaul was pacified.

I'm pretentious.

[seamless-socks]

so knowing what i know about tumblr, i prolly missed an ass load of tags. if you see this and don't like… uh… sadness? death? more sadness? shitting on the old man in the sky (if he or she or whatever it could be even exists)? dying men who are a little bit irish and also texan somehow??? flee my friend!!! fleeeeee!!!

still here? too bad for you. this is unrefined, utterly. i wrote it at four am and merely reread it. once. please leave constructive criticism. i know it's not good, don't tell me for fuck's sake, not without some advice. i'll accept slander disguised as helpful tips but JUST BARELY AND YOU'RE ON THINNNNN FUCKING ICE PAL

I screamed at first. Flailed wildly, struggled to tear off my suit before Allen had stopped me. Shouted curses through my visor at the cold, unresponsive stars scattered throughout the black. Tear tracks ran down my face, little salty trails that had long dried. My strangled gasps had calmed down to even little sips of oxygen.

To be honest, I didn't much see the point. We were gonna die anyways. They'd left us behind. How the fuck could they have left us behind? How little did they care about us that the moment the first signs of danger appeared, they'd cut us off and disappeared? How were those the people I'd come to know over the past few months?

"Hey. Max." Allen. Shit, that guy couldn't let a man throw himself a pity fest in peace. Too good for this business, I always thought.

Allen and I were tied together at our waists using our severed o2 cords. It left our hands free and kept us from drifting out of range of one another. I'm pretty sure no one wants to die alone.

Don't look towards Eleanor.

I didn't look towards Eleanor.

"What," I snapped over my intercom with more bite than I'd intended. I immediately regretted it when Allen didn't reply, going silent except for the faint sounds of his breathing. Shit, shit, no, I didn't mean it--

"Got anyone special waiting for you back home?" His question was so surprising I couldn't help but let out an embarrassed laugh.

"Oh, fuck, no. Why, you interested, big boy?" I heard him inhale sharply, and I could just picture him stammering in my head. Wh-- huh, no-- I didn't-- I wasn't-- Max, now is not the time! Unfortunately for my own amusement, I didn't really feel like teasing Allen while we were waiting around for our respective imminent demises. "Aha, no, don't worry, just kidding with you." I sighed. "Tell you the truth, nah. If I had a man waiting for me, this is not the business I would have gone into. Only one waiting for me is my cute tabby cat, Arnold, but my asshole of a sister and I agree on one thing-- that girl deserves a good home. I'm not worried about her."

Allen chewed his lip. "I take it you and your sister aren't particularly close?"

I shrugged, trying to push the memories away. "Yeah, not really. Madds was… yeah, doesn't matter how we got like this, honestly, but there ain't much coming back from it." I gave a short, dry laugh. "Especially not now. What about you? Got someone I should know about so I can tease you in our last moments?"

"…" And I fucked up again. I was really good at that, it seemed, but hey, he'd asked first. Why ask if you didn't want it turned around on you?

"…Okay, promise me you won't laugh." Well, that got my eyebrows shooting skyward. Starward. What fuckin' ever.

"Not so sure how hard that'll be, but sure. I'll do my best."

He took a deep breath and then let it out explosively, causing the intercom to spaz out for a second. I winced at the white noise before it cleared up. "Alright, okay. Well, I'm not sure it counts, but… no, really, promise me you won't laugh."

"Cross my heart and hope to die." I started making an X over my heart but couldn't quite reach. Clumsy thing, spacesuits are. "…Eh, I'm with it in spirit. Seriously, though, I won't laugh. It'd be a real douche thing to do right now."

I couldn't see his face, but I swear he smiled. "Thanks. So there was this boy, right? Grade one, I walk up and ask him, do you wanna be friends? Just like that. And he just goes, sure! And that was that, we were friends. Kids are sweet like that, huh?" I grinned and nodded before remembering he couldn't see it. "So we hung out every day at school afterwards. I can't really remember what we did that first year, but it must've been fun, cuz when grade 2 rolled around, I was over the moon to see we were in the same class again. We talked at lunch breaks, and in class, when they let us. Holy shit, we talked so much. I don't think I've ever talked to anyone else in my life as much as I talked with him."

"What did you talk about?" I hummed, crossing my legs.

"Oh, things. It wasn't really important. Whatever caught our interest. What would you do if you had this power, what if you turned into a dinosaur, what's your favorite book, that sort of thing. We just went really in depth, like ridiculously in depth for a couple of… what, five year olds? But it was fun. Made me look forward to coming to school more than I already did."

"Aw, Allen, you were a teacher's pet?" I groaned mockingly. He laughed.

"Yeah, I guess that's what you'd call it. We both were. Quiet, liked to learn. Don't think the whole 'opposites attract' thing is true, to be honest. Third grade rolled around, and we both discovered that we loved to write stories. They were dumbass stories, but we were in third grade, what do you expect? We encouraged each other and I think my enthusiasm might have carried on to him, because later on, turned out he didn't really wanna write anymore. But that's not relevant right now. We made up this game where one of us would create a scenario and the other would pretend to be a character in the scenario, like writing a book in real time."

"Holy shit, Allen, you were a nerd even in third grade!? I mean, knowing you, yeah, but I thought that was more of a high schooler thing."

"Hey, I said no laughing! I know it was stupid."

"Sorry, sorry. You know I'm not serious. Just teasing and all. Sorry."

"…I don't mind, actually. Takes my mind off the… all this."

We both went quiet. I could feel the weight of the stars pressing in on me.

"…Anyways. Fourth, fifth, sixth, we got better at writing and critiqued each other's work. Made some comics together at the start of class, while the teachers were getting the other kids to calm down. Some of them I've still got at home, actually. Maybe I can show them t…."

…

"Ah. We kept playing that game, by the way. Had some real wild times, or as wild as you could get when it's all in your head. Looking back, he's the only person I really talked to those whole six years. Teachers liked me, sure, and I guess my classmates did, too, but all they remembered me for was being that slightly weird quiet kid who hung around his friend all the time. I think it fucked me up a bit when we went to different schools. I made some new friends, but it got a little exhausting keeping up those friendships, and I wasn't getting what I wanted out of them, so I just stopped talking to them. First year of high school rolled around, and when it was over, it really hit me. We hadn't talked in months. Hadn't met in a year. I didn't make any new friends. I don't see the point in talking about it now, but well. After that, I just drifted on through. Grades slipped. If I'd been better about keeping them up, maybe we'd never have met." Maybe he wouldn't be dying here with me, was what he was saying. "Ah, shit, sorry, that came out wrong--"

"Allen," I silenced him. "Don't worry. I get it. Keep going. Or don't, whatever you want."

He cleared his throat, and I couldn't help but notice his voice becoming a bit more warbley as he continued. "Shit. Well, it wasn't until grade twelve happened that I realized I wanted to die."

He stopped abruptly. Jesus fucking christ. That was… Jesus christ! I mean, now was as good a time as ever to spill your guts, but I'd never imagined Allen of all people…

"Fuuuuck, sorry. Shouldn't have told you that. That was rude."

"I don't mind. I think if it's helping you, it's good. Is it helping you?"

He sniffed. "Yeah."

"Okay. You can go on," I encouraged him softly. When did I get so calm and nurturing all of a sudden? Since your best mate admitted he wanted to kill himself, and hasn't told you it ever went away. Asshole.

"So I dropped out of school and became a cargo shipper. Kept drifting along, got caught smuggling goods with a shady crew, sentenced to shipping essential supplies through dangerous quadrants. You know how it went after. Things got better, I guess? And now… shit, now I don't wanna die, but if we get out of this mess, what the fuck am I gonna do with my life? Just keep drifting along? If my friend saw me now, he'd be a helluva lot more disappointed than I could handle. I miss him."

"What was his name?" The quiet question elicited a burst of laughter.

"And that's the real kicker-- for being the main part of my life I enjoyed the most, I can't remember. I can't remember his fucking name. It's like some huge, cosmic joke-- or maybe a twisted story with a solemn, shitty old moral at the end." Allen suddenly snarled, becoming more bitter than I'd ever heard from him. "Agh, if there is some grand old fuck up there, I'm gonna kick him in the jewels a few times. Bastard's an asshole."

That surprised a cackle out of me. "Oh, I'd drink to that. A real cunt." I raised my fist and shook it into empty space comically. "Hear that? Suck my big one, God!"

Allen was laughing with me. "Yeah, go find yourself a real hobby instead of giving kids cancer and shitting on the homeless!"

I laughed harder. Fuck, why hadn't he shown this side of himself back when we were living together on the ship? Cuz he was scared, probably. You're not the most welcoming kinda guy, if you haven't noticed. From what he's told you about his youth, are you really surprised?

We chuckled together for a good while after, a soft, tender thing between us. It was comfortable. Given more time, maybe I could've been the friend Allen needed. Given more time, this conversation never would have happened, and I wouldn't have seen this side of him in the first place. Given more time, I'd just keep on being a right old cunt like I'd always been.

The air felt thinner. The laughing had tired me out, and no matter how deeply I breathed, I couldn't get the ache out of my lungs. "Welp. I think this is it," I chirped, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. "See you on the other side, Allen."

"Same to you, Max."

"…Uh, and if you happen to hear any delirious apologies about Madeline… ignore em, please. That'd be embarrassing."

"After what I just told you? Couldn't embarrass me if you tried, whoever Madeline is."

"Oof, I wouldn't be so sure of that. You don't wanna test me."

"Haha, you're right. I don't wanna test you."

We both subsided. I had a bit of a stupid smile on my face while black crept in on the sides of my vision. My lungs constricted and my breaths turned to gasps turned to wheezes. Muffled came the sounds of Allen going through a similar crisis, but I didn't have the brains for much sympathy at the moment. Mostly just a bunch of 'oh, wahhh, I don't wanna die' nonsense. Well, not nonsense. I don't wanna die. Don't think Allen does, really, either. There's no light at the end of the tunnel. A bunch of little ones, maybe, holes poked in a big old black blanket thrown over sticks by a couple of little kids. They're laughing. They're smiling. I can see wisps of Allen's curly blond hair, and the tangled brown mat of my own.

Everything's gonna be fine, I wanna tell him. We'll meet again.

[wild-karrde]

HI HELLO IT IS I, WILD KARRDE, WHO IS PERPETUALLY BEHIND ON ALL FICS FOREVER. I HAVE COME TO REMEDY THIS ISSUE AND SCREECH AT YOU BECAUSE IRIS, YOU, YOU WILL BE HEARING FROM MY THERAPIST.

I adore the conflict within Rex that you show here, because I ABSOLUTELY believe that he felt so conflicted going after Echo. But he had to, because he's Rex, and after so much loss, he deserves this one second chance, this one brother. I love that so much.

And OOOOOF the reminiscing with Jesse and Kix. You are so good at writing these moments that I so wish we'd gotten to see in the show, and you do it BEAUTIFULLY. It's CRUSHING for Echo to just know that there's no way Fives wouldn't have come to see him if he was alive. Just OUCH MY HEART. And Rex immediately goING TO SEE CODYYYYY. And Cody being antsy??? He's PERFECT. Iris this is SO HIM.

And REX'S GUILLLTTTT AUGGGGGH. AND CODY BEING A GOOD BIG BROTHER. KNOWING HIM SO WELLLLLLLL. I know we got a good amount of them, but I wanted more (because I am selfish) SO THANK YOU FOR SATING ME.

“Rex, we aren’t going to sit here and act like you haven’t been a miserable piece of shit since you two ended things.”

This line of dialogue is perfection and I CACKLED. And Cody reversing course because he saw how good it was for Rex? My heart is growing ten sizes from this chapter.

He had seen many incredible things done by the Jedi, but to see that amount of raw power coming from someone he cared about… it was mesmerizing, inspiring, and terrifying all at once.

I LOVE THIS. Rex has seen this sort of power of course, but there's always that degree of separation with Anakin and Ahsoka and Obi-Wan. But to have it be Talia? Someone he's been so close to? UUUGH I think you capture this so well.

It hurt to think that she might have moved on so quickly, but Rex couldn’t fault her for doing what made her happy. In fact, the only thing he wanted for her was happiness.

HE IS SO GOOD AND KIND AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH UUUUUGH.

Talia stopped in her tracks and turned on her heel to face him. “Your enhanced senses can’t work like that.” Hunter snorted at how she didn’t even deny it, a grin curving on his tattooed face. “They don’t. Anyone with any sense can see it.”

I adore this exchange and just how Hunter is with Talia. I've always liked the notion that as awkward as Hunter is in some situations, that he's still perceptive and gets people. I think you have to be able to in order to be a good leader (which by all accounts, he is). And him seeing how they look at one another and pointing it out? I am CLIMBING THE WALLS OH MY GOOOOODDDDD.

Talia’s words were cut off as Rex’s lips pressed into hers, her eyes widening in shock but fluttering closed as she melted into the kiss.

God dammit I love unresolved tension that snaps and is still confusing and ends with JUST DESPERATION I DON'T THINK THAT'S ACTUALLY A TROPE OR JUST A VERY SPECIFIC ONE BUT HEY HELLO I LOVE THIS LET'S GO. THE APOLOGIES, THE WORDS TUMBLING OUT, THE ADMISSION THAT NEITHER REGRETTED THE KISS (I know this comment is devolving, but I am just losing it with happiness/excitement at the moment. Please stand by.)

She lost her train of thought, any words of reassurance or doubts of herself that she was about to say we lost as she looked into his eyes. Instead, she blurted out words she should have said long ago-“I love you.”

I AM A PUDDLE ON THE FLOOR. AND THEN HE SAYS "I KNOW". GOD DAMMIT IRIS (affectionately).

AND THEN THE DESPERATION. THE NEED. THE MAKING UP FOR LOST TIME. THE FIGURING EACH OTHER OUT ALL OVER AGAIN. THE AWKWARDNESS. THE TEASING.

“Take them off before I rip them off of you.”

I have ascended to another dimension no one try to contact me I just am SCREAMING. POSSESSIVE REX? EVERYTHING. HE CAN HAVE WHATEVER. I JUST...

AND HER OFFERING TO LEAVE THE ORDER FOR HIM?????A;OLIHSDG;AD;SLKGHKAL;SGH;KLASDHG;LDKSAGLKASHDFHGOIAPSDHGOPSdfFUCK

“We should go back to the island.”

SCREAMING. CRYING. LOSING MY FOOKIN MIND.

As you can see, I had a very normal and measured response to this chapter and am just panicking over what is to come. VERY PANICKED VERY WORRIED.

Illicit Affairs - Chapter 21

Captain Rex x OC

Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary: The battle for Anaxes has reached its breaking point. As the Republic and Separatist forces face off, will Rex and Talia be able to get past their history or will the rising tension between them lead to further broken hearts.

Chapter Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Oral (f receiving), PiV, creampie, canon typical violence, mentions of death.

A/N: Thanks for your patience with the wait on this one. It's a long chapter, but I in no good conscious could split it in half and make y'all wait (which for me, who loves good cliffhangers, is saying something.) Thanks to my darling @galacticgraffiti for beta reading, and for being with me on this journey for TWO YEARS. Won't be much longer for the next chapter.

Ao3 Link

Series Masterlist

19 BBY - Anaxes

The Republic suffered heavy losses on Anaxes, something that Rex couldn’t help but feel a bit of guilt for as he walked through the medical station at camp. Given the chance, he wouldn’t do anything differently, he would always go back for Echo; but he couldn’t ignore the nagging thought in the back of his head that he should also have been in the field for the rest of his men. It was hard for him to not feel like he had the responsibility of the war on his shoulders. After so many years of command it was impossible to not feel that burden. Part of his mind told himself that he should be used to it by now, that this was the way of war. But the other part reminded himself that he was feeling that guilt because he was human. 

Echo had been in medical care since they arrived back on Anaxes the night before, and Rex hadn’t seen him since. He had to get caught up on the siege and was also encouraged by Kix to give the medical team some time, and Echo a chance for much needed rest. But Rex came as soon as he had a moment, he wanted Echo to know he had someone there for him. As soon as Rex walked in to see him, he was greeted by the sound of raucous laughter. 

“-and that’s not even all of it,” Jesse was saying as he stood in front of Echo, a grin overtaking his face. Kix was leaning on a table to the side, shaking his head but smiling along, Echo sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands as he shook with laughter. “You know how Hardcase could never say no to anything. So, when he was dared to try a sip, he downed the whole bottle-”

“And the whole barracks regretted the dare with how much he puked that night,” Rex added, remembering the story Jesse was sharing as he walked in. Jesse and Kix laughed at the memory and Echo smiled along. “We were lucky to be shipped out the next morning: I feel bad for the cleaning droids that had to deal with that.”

“I’m sure the 501st is responsible for half the contraband rules in the GAR,” Echo joined in, the smile on his face making him look livelier than he had the day before. Jesse and Kix said their goodbyes, giving Rex a chance to talk to Echo alone. 

“How are you feeling?” Rex asked tentatively.

“As good as I can be,” Echo replied simply with a small shrug. “Medics say I’m fine, I’ve just been getting some nutrients and solid food for the first time since…well, since it happened.”

Rex nodded, glad to know that there weren’t any flags raised. Echo would still have to go through some conditioning and a psych eval before going back to combat, but there was some relief in knowing Echo would be ok. Echo shifted his seat, a frown creasing on his lips as his face scrunched in thought. He glanced at the door where Jesse and Kix just walked out, then back at Rex. 

“Fives is dead, isn’t he?” 

Rex exhaled heavily. Of course, Echo was too smart to not figure out why Fives hadn’t come to see him yet.

“I’m sorry. That’s one of the reasons I was coming to talk to you today.” 

Echo nodded, his head tilted down, so he was looking at his hand and the scomp link the Techno Union had attached. “The last thing I remember was him calling my name. Next thing I knew-”

Echo’s words choked in his throat, but he swallowed whatever he was trying to say. He glanced back up at Rex and forced a smile. “Figured he would have been on the mission with you guys, that’s how I knew he was gone.”

“I’m sorry,” Rex repeated, because once more guilt was taking over him. It felt too simple just to say ‘sorry’. That one small word couldn’t encompass all the guilt he was feeling, and how it connected to Fives.  He forced a low chuckle, thinking of a different world.“Fives would have been the first volunteer, and he might have single-handedly taken on the Techno Union if he’d seen what they did to you.”

“How did it-” Echo started to ask but a knock sounded on the door. Rex and Echo glanced to see Talia standing in the doorway. A pit formed in Rex’s stomach at her sudden appearance; he hadn’t spoken to her since their conversation on the Havoc Marauder. 

“Sorry, I can go if I’m interrupting,” Talia quickly said, her eyes flicking once in Rex’s direction before locking on Echo. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“It’s fine. I was just leaving, General,” Rex said quickly. Echo’s eyes darted between the two of them, but he smiled politely at Talia. In truth Rex did have to leave - he was supposed to be in command for a briefing on his next assignment. And Cody was still injured, so he was going to stop by his quarters to see him after checking on Echo. He was also being selfish, because he hadn’t thought of how he would explain how Fives died to Echo before he stepped in. Everything around Fives’ death was painful, and he didn’t want to cause Echo any more potential stress. It was just another burden for Rex to carry. 

Since Cody was out of immediate danger, he was allowed to rest in his officer’s quarters and attend briefings, but much to his chagrin, he wasn’t cleared for combat. When Rex entered Cody’s room, the commander was out of the bed, sitting at his desk with a datapad in front him. Rex knew no medical orders could keep his brother from work. Cody didn’t look too bad anymore, he was just bandaged around his chest; it was probably precaution more than anything that kept him on rest. Cody looked up as Rex entered and offered a mumbled greeting.

“How are you feeling?” Rex asked, sitting on the edge of the bed that Cody had abandoned.

“I’m fine,” Cody grunted, uncharacteristically grumpy. He sighed and looked at Rex. “I should be cleared for duty already. It’s ridiculous being cooped up here.”

“I’m sure Kenobi has things under control, and wouldn’t want you to rush yourself,” Rex offered. Cody grunted again.

“You’re right. Hell, he’s probably the one ordering the medics to keep me here no matter how much I try and pull rank,” Cody’s tone had lightened a bit. “Still, I can’t imagine I’ll be out of action much longer. I heard things went well on Skako.”

Rex nodded. “Echo’s still being looked over. He seems to be holding things together well, after everything he’s been through.”

“That’s good to hear, he was always a good kid,” Cody said. He sighed as he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “Never deserved for that to happen to him.”

Rex nodded. He couldn’t think of anyone who would deserve what the Techno Union did to Echo.

“How’ve you been holding up?” Cody asked. 

“It’s not easy to see brother in that state, or  to know I’m partially responsible for him being left behind-”

“You’re not,” Cody interrupted. “You know you can’t think like that. It was a mission from hell, and we couldn’t have known what would happen to him.”

“Still doesn’t make it any easier.” Rex replied darkly.

Cody seemed to accept that and nodded. 

“Still, that actually wasn’t what I was talking about,” Cody said slowly, as if Rex was missing something more obvious. Rex just stared at him in mild confusion. Cody put his datapad down and fixed Rex with a serious stare. “You looked like you saw a ghost when you saw General Riva the other day, Rex.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” Rex frowned and shook his head.

“Rex, we aren’t going to sit here and act like you haven’t been a miserable piece of shit since you two ended things.”

Rex scoffed at that, “Bold of you to call that out.”

Cody sighed and pushed his chair back. “Honestly… seeing how you’ve been since and watching you two dance around each other in command meetings this past week, I’m surprised no one else called either of you out before.”

“There’s nothing to call out, we ended-”

“I know it’s over,” Cody waved him off, “But Rex, come on. You look at her like the stars shine out of her ass. How the hell did I never see it?”

Rex stared at him in disbelief. “What does it even matter now?”

Cody sighed and fixed Rex with an imploring look. “I’m saying you do everything you can to look after the 501st, all of our brothers. Maybe I was wrong to call out the one thing you did to look after yourself.”

“What, suddenly I have your blessing or something?” Rex scoffed. 

“I don’t give a shit what you do. All I care about is that you take care of yourself. We’ve lost so much. All of us. And we need to fight for something that we believe. Not because we were trained to fight for it, but because we chose to fight for it. It’s what makes us human.”

Rex frowned and looked at his hands, already warring with himself. He opened his mouth to try and find a reply, but nothing came out. He was rescued by his comm beeping - General Skywalker ready to brief him on the next assignment already. Rex sighed heavily, and glanced back at Cody who was still giving him that frustrating, knowing look. If he hadn’t been injured, Rex would have had an urge to slap it off his face. And yet once again, Rex was leaving Cody’s room after a conversation that would stick in his mind.

The air around the base was tense. One didn’t need the Force to sense that something was about to finally give in the battle for Anaxes. They had been stuck in this stalemate for too long, and now both sides were getting ready for a final push. Rex trusted Echo’s plan to feed false information to the Separatist forces, even if Rex was worried Echo was pushing himself back into action too quickly. Rex would also stand by Echo, no matter how much the Batch seemed wary of his intentions, worried that he had spent too much time working with the Separatists to truly be on the Republic’s side again. Rex knew Echo, knew he’d had no choice in what his mind was used for. But now, he did.

The Batch and Anakin had already boarded the Havoc Marauder, and as Rex turned to join them a voice called out, “Wait a second!”

Rex turned as Talia was running over, a little out of breath. She halted in front of him as Rex stood next to the walkway.

“Aren’t you leading the 412th into the assembly complex?” Rex asked bluntly. Talia frowned, but shook her head.

“Storm has it under control. I figured you all could use some extra support here,” Talia’s tone turned stiff. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

Rex couldn’t ignore the slight crack in her voice. He sighed and shook his head, “It’s not my call what you chose to do, General.”

Talia pursed her lips but nodded, “Then we best get on our way.”

She sidestepped him and boarded the ship, leaving Rex looking on as he once again found himself berating every little action he took. Just like when they went to Skako Minor, he knew her help was always an asset. And he didn’t want it to be this way, but he was still thinking about his conversation with Cody, and what had happened on Skako.

It wasn’t his place to question her, especially not anymore, but Rex could still feel the terror-filled awe that had overtaken him when he watched Talia take down the tri-droids with lightning. He had seen many incredible things done by the Jedi, but to see that amount of raw power coming from someone he cared about… it was mesmerizing, inspiring, and terrifying all at once. He had always known how powerful Talia was, even when she doubted it herself, but this was beyond anything he could ever have imagined. And what had scared him the most was that Talia didn’t seem to care about the cost it took on her. He saw how the lightning lit up her body, encasing her in a frightening glow, only for her to fall weak to her knees, exhausted and drained instantly after. Rex was a practical man, and Talia was right that a power like that had its use. He just didn’t think it was worth risking anything that could cause her pain.

As he contemplated this, he was only left more frustrated afterward, unable to convey his worry as anything more than irritation.  Especially when it seemed like there had been a chance for normalcy between them again with how they had talked on the mission.

He didn’t want to hurt her, that was never something Rex desired. But he couldn’t resist throwing her words back at her, because even though Rex knew Talia hadn’t meant to be cruel, she had to know how horrible it made him feel. But now he felt even worse for the pain he saw in her eyes, seeing that she obviously felt guilt for the way things had ended between them.

And then there was what Cody said. As frustrated as Rex was by his brother’s sudden change of tone, Rex couldn’t go back on his decision just like that. For all he knew, Talia wouldn’t even want him anymore. Rex had surely done enough to keep her at arm’s length in his own misguided sense of duty, but he also worried he may have lost his chance. Crosshair’s teasing remarks to Hunter still rung in his ears, and he thought of how comfortable she seemed with the Sergeant. It hurt to think that she might have moved on so quickly, but Rex couldn’t fault her for doing what made her happy. In fact, the only thing he wanted for her was happiness.

If only there was time to work out this mess between them before it complicated things on missions even more. But Rex couldn’t ignore the rushing feeling around him, that the galaxy was heading in a certain direction and couldn’t be stopped. He, his brothers, and the Jedi were caught in the middle, ready to crash when this all ended.

Sneaking onto the Separatist dreadnought went almost too smoothly, something that kept Talia’s nerves on edge. They didn’t encounter any droids on the way to the comm vault, aiding their plans for a stealth mission - even if Wrecker seemed to be tired of all their sneaking around. The vault was a small, circular room lined with wiring and electrical lights, and a tall console in its middle that Tech was rigging an interface in so Echo could safely log in. Anakin was checking to make sure there were no other entrances to the vault, ensuring that they couldn’t be attacked by Separatist troops. Talia held her blade in her hand, twirling it in her hand, ready to ignite at a second’s notice.

Talia was playing things close to the chest with this mission. Storm had already sent her a message conveying that the other Generals were not so understanding of her decision to abandon the plan that she should lead the 412th into the assembly complex, and that she had left Storm to command in her stead. But Talia’s mind was in too many places, and her judgment told her this was the place she needed to be. She could deal with the council later, even though she could guess that she would be under criticism for her rash decisions. 

Once Tech gave the go ahead, Echo scomped into the mainframe, instantly accessing all the data. He intercepted a request from Admiral Trench, which Tech pointed out they would need to reroute the message to make it seem like the call was still coming from Skako Minor.

Talia stepped into the corridor that was leading to the mainframe, giving some space from the small room. They were lucky to have been undetected this long, but Talia knew that luck would eventually run out. She tapped her foot, glancing around as she tried to keep her mind focused.

“You doing alright?” Hunter’s question cut into her nervousness as he stepped up beside her in the corridor.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Talia shrugged off, her voice more curtly than she had intended, earning a raised brow from Hunter. She exhaled, and attempted to sound more at ease. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ve just noticed how…tense you get whenever the Captain’s around.”

Talia stopped in her tracks and turned on her heel to face him. “Your enhanced senses can’t work like that.”

Hunter snorted at how she didn’t even deny it, a grin curving on his tattooed face. “They don’t. Anyone with any sense can see it.”

Talia cursed under her breath. “Here I thought we were always good at hiding it.”

“You probably were before,” Hunter shrugged. “But whatever happened between you two…it’s still hanging in the air.”

Talia huffed a laugh at that, it was such a simple observation, but she couldn’t ignore the truth behind it. “You don’t even know half of it.”

“Well, I know one thing; even if you had never told me you had a history with a clone, I would have still known you were in love with him by the way you two go back and forth. In battle, and in conversation,” Hunter stated as simply as if he were recounting a mission. He made it sound so obvious, , as if it were the most natural thing.  “Hell, even the way you look at him when you think no one else is noticing. Same for him.”

Talia let out a mirthless laugh at that, “I think we’re long past the days where he looked at me that way.”

She berated herself for letting that slip. She had already overstepped with Hunter in too many ways to count, but he just looked at her with a somewhat exasperated look. “He’s doing it now.”

Talia frowned and glanced over her shoulder, just to see Rex’s head turn the other way. Talia’s cheeks burned and her heart ached, she couldn’t give herself that hope, even if Hunter was trying to make it feel better.  Shaking her head, she mumbled, “We should check what’s going on.”

Walking back into the room, Rex’s eyes flicked in her direction once more, to Hunter, then back to Talia. His lips flickered to an almost imperceptible frown, something anyone but Talia wouldn’t have noticed. She must be imagining it, though. Interrupting her musings, Tech made a confused noise as he looked at his datapad.

“I’m intercepting a transmission,” Tech said, suspicion in his voice, “Trench is ordering all his troops to the assembly complex.”

“All right, Echo, what are you trying to pull?” Hunter asked doubtfully.

“Don’t worry, that’s what I told him to do,” Echo answered with an assuredness only an ARC Trooper possessed.

“But our troops will be vastly outnumbered?” Rex deduced doubtingly.

“Not when I send the feedback pulse that shuts down all the droids,” Echo explained.

“How do we know that’s what you’re really going to do?” Hunter asked suspiciously. Both he and Tech were sharing a doubting look, as if they had been expecting this all along.

“We have to trust him,” Rex jumped in, frustration mounting in his voice as he tried to placate Hunter and Tech.

“Rex is right,” Talia joined, knowing that nothing would be accomplished if the squad was arguing amongst itself. “If Echo says the plan will work, it’ll work.”

“We’re counting on you, Echo,” Anakin said as he lifted his wrist to call General Windu, warning him that things were going to get a lot heavier for the troops in the assembly complex. Echo returned his focus, and Hunter and Tech seemed to accept that if it was a good enough plan for the Jedi, it was good enough for them, even if Talia could still feel the lingering suspicion on them. Rex on the other hand, didn’t waiver in his trust. In fact he seemed grateful that the tension had dissipated.

“We should be on guard,” Talia said aside to Rex, “With what I know of Trench, he’ll probably be suspicious the second things don’t work out as planned.”

“You’re right,” Rex agreed, glancing down at Echo, “I hope he didn’t play his hand too strong.”

“Keep an eye on things here, I can patrol outside and be ready at the first sign of trouble,” Talia ordered, already turning to the exit.

“What?” Rex asked, following her, “Let one of the Batch do it, I know Wrecker is itching for a fight.”

“And that’s a surefire way for us all to be discovered before anything happens,” Talia joked, earning a light huff of laughter from Rex. “Don’t worry: they won’t see me until it’s too late to do anything about it.”

Rex nodded as Talia turned away, her hilt in hand and ready for action.

“Talia,” Rex called, and she stopped; she had almost forgotten how sweet her first name sounded off his lips. She glanced back at him, his hands clenched at his sides, his brow furrowed as if he didn’t know why he called for her in the first place. He exhaled softly and met her eyes, “May the Force be with you.”

Talia nodded in return, a warmth settling in her, “May the Force be with you.”

The eerie calm of the ship was something that might have unsettled a younger Talia, new to war and battle. Hell, even a few hours ago she would have been more unnerved by the prospect of sneaking around, waiting for the calm to break. But she had to be prepared, she knew this calm would not last. It never did. She hid in the ventilation shafts, out of reach of any droids who passed by on patrol, waiting for any sign or signal that would propel her into action.

Talia’s comm chirped and she answered quickly, hearing Rex on the other side.

“Talia, they know we’re onboard. We’re going to have to make a quick evac,” Rex said rapidly.

“Got it, I’ll clear a path for you,” Talia answered. Sure enough, the sounds of clanking footsteps were starting to fill the corridors. Talia kicked open the grate beneath her and dropped below, landing with a thud and ignited her saber. She held the blade in front of her, the glow lighting the corridor as the steps approached. Talia stood still, breathed in and out, and waited for the first droid to round the corner.

Once they turned, they immediately fired, but Talia was ready, redirecting their shots effortlessly with her saber. The hall was narrow, preventing more than two droids from lining up side by side as they approached. Talia sprinted forward, her momentum carrying her up the side of the wall, and she leapt in the middle of the group of droids. Before they could turn back to fire at her, she tossed her saber at the front group, slicing them in half before calling it back. She twirled her blade rapidly, redirecting the shots the second group was firing at her, slowly pressing forward to make it to the end of the hall.

Blaster fire echoed down the corridor; more droid forces must have corned the rest of the squad. Still, Talia pushed forward, hoping that her presence as a Jedi would call more of the droid troops to her position. 

She sliced droids in half, used the force to crush them into the durasteel walls of the ship. Their shots danced around her, narrowly missing her as she carved a path through them. Her comm beeped, but she ignored the sound as she focused on the droids. Rapid metal footsteps behind her proved her plan worked, as a pair of commando droids stormed towards her. She held up her hand and slowed them with the Force, still using her blade to take out the droids closer to her. As she lost her hold, they sprinted toward her, but she moved quicker, sliding to the ground on her knees and slicing the droids at their calves, making them crash to the ground. The disassembled droids tried to push themselves up, but Talia Force-pushed them backwards, into the pile of miscellaneous droid parts her fighting had caused. 

Talia ran forward down the hall, getting closer and closer to the port the squad had used to enter the ship. Blaster fire still sounded, and she hoped the squad had made it back unharmed.

Another squad of droids found her, and Talia had to give their programming credit for their tenacity. A few more, and this might even grow to be a challenge for her. She raised her blade, ready to strike again when a small round device rolled towards the droids from behind her.

The droid popper went off and the droids crumpled to the ground from the shock. Talia’s blade disengaged as she turned in confusion to see Rex standing behind her, one hand holding a blaster that pointed at where the droids previously stood.

“The rest of the squad is already on the ship, we need to go,” he explained shortly.

“I had it under control,” Talia answered irritably; she didn’t need to be rescued from a handful of battle droids. Rex sighed as he turned.

“You weren’t answering your comm,” Rex said as he stepped away. “And I wasn’t going to leave you.”

Guilt wrapped in Talia’s gut for how harsh her tone was. She quickened her steps after him and grabbed Rex’s forearm. He halted his steps, his helmet locked on where her hand grabbed him as she said, “Thanks…for having my back.”

His helmet lifted and she stared into the back of his visor. “Always will.”

Talia didn’t know what to say. She just nodded, and finally released his arm when she realized she was holding it for far longer than she should have. Rex nodded and turned back down the hall, his blaster raising once more.

It didn’t take them long to reach the Marauder, which dislodged from the dreadnought as soon as they were safely on board. Anakin handed a detonation device to Wrecker, who let out a loud cheer as the dreadnought exploded, and Talia internally echoed his joy: after so much back and forth, it was good to have a victory that meant this siege was over. She stepped out of the cockpit, going to sit in the back of the ship for the quick trip back to base.

“Talia,” Rex’s voice called from behind her, she turned to find him approaching her, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Talia flicked a simple grin back at him, ignoring the way her gut flipped as he came up.

“For the record,” he started, and Talia tensed, preparing for some other fault he had suddenly discovered in her. But to her surprise, Rex;s hand was scratching the back of his neck, his tone more apologetic as he continued. “I know you could have handled those droids. I wasn’t trying to overstep-“

“You were trying to show off,” Talia interrupted, deciding humor was the best way to dissolve yet another moment of tense awkwardness. To her relief, Rex smiled. “I meant my thanks. You know more than most how stubborn I can get.”

Rex laughed at that, then asked, “So, what’s next for you?  I’m assuming the 412th will be shipped out pretty quickly.”

“I’m sure I’ll be getting orders from the council as soon as we land,” Talia shrugged, not letting herself feel hope at the twinge of something akin to sadness she felt coming from Rex as he asked her, “That is, of course, if I’m not grounded on Coruscant again.”

Rex raised a brow at her, and Talia sighed, biting her lip before continuing, “I kind of went rogue to join you guys here. Storm covered for me, and things ended up working out, but I can bet I’ll be getting an earful about recklessness.”

“Why would you do that?” Rex asked. His brows were cinched as he tried to read her face. For such a smart man, he could be truly oblivious at times. Talia was sure the same could be said about herself.

Talia glanced around the ship, making sure the Batch and Anakin were still otherwise focused before she met Rex’s eyes. “Look, Rex, I know things are complicated between us right now. But I still care about you, and I was worried.”

Rex didn’t say anything, his brows still furrowed as he listened. Talia gulped and couldn’t hold back the words spilling from her mouth.

“It’s just, I can tell how much stress you’ve been under, and I know I haven’t helped with that, but when you went to Skako I had to be there for you in case things with Echo didn’t turn out as well. And today, I was just still so nervous that something would go wrong, and even if you didn’t want me here I had to make sure-“

Talia’s words were cut off as Rex’s lips pressed into hers, her eyes widening in shock but fluttering closed as she melted into the kiss. His hand was placed against her lower back, holding her close to him; Talia had weirdly missed the uncomfortable way that plastoid pressed into her as her body was against his.

Rex pulled back slowly, his eyes drifting open, that soft, warm brown that still made her gut twist in the best way. For a moment, he looked content, then his eyes widened, and he removed his hand from her back.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-“ Rex shook his head softly but the way he looked at her told Talia that he didn’t believe a word he was saying.

Talia opened her mouth, trying to say a million things back to him. It’s ok. You have no idea how much I wanted that. I missed you.

I love you.

“We’ll be landing shortly, everyone should get seated,” Tech called from the cockpit. Rex pushed away from Talia, returning to the cockpit. She was frozen, still feeling him on her lips and cursing herself for not saying more, terrified that she had lost her last chance.

Some people hated goodbyes, or at least Rex had heard that in sayings tossed around by natborns. But Rex had always felt differently, mostly because he couldn’t count the number of people he never had the chance to say goodbye to. He couldn’t let himself linger on it, it wouldn’t help anything, but sometimes he found himself wondering what he would say with one last word. But Rex was beginning to understand what the sayings meant, as he watched Echo leave.

He knew it was the right call, that Echo knew where his place really was. It just felt like Rex was saying goodbye to a part of him, even though Echo hadn’t been back for long. But Echo was something to hold on to from the early days of the war, ever since he was that overeager shiny from the Rishi Moon. Just a kid when he joined the 501st, now he was a man forged by the harsh clock of war. And with him left one of the few things that tied Rex to an older version of himself he could scarcely remember.

Rex informed the generals that the Bad Batch had already departed, not being the types for the ceremonies of the medals they had earned. The generals didn’t comment, and Rex stood tall as General Windu handed him the medal he had earned. It sounded egotistical to say, but Rex couldn’t count the amount he had gotten in the last three years. He kept them of course, but he never knew what to think of them. At first there was an honor that came with them, and he still felt that, but now he couldn’t ignore the way he was shrouded by a bit of jadedness. After everything that had happened, this was just another campaign to add to the countless he had been in. He saluted as Windu gave him the medal, but the one thing on his mind was Talia, and wondering why she wasn’t there.

Dusk had quickly settled over the encampment, its golden glow and the harsh shadows casting over the men who already worked to pack up equipment. A small force would remain on Anaxes, as was protocol, but the cog of GAR couldn’t slow down, and most of the forces would be quickly redistributed to wherever else in the Galaxy they were needed. Rex had assumed the 412th would be one of the first groups to set out, something seemingly confirmed by the amount of troops wearing black and gold armor that still hustled around the base.

It was reckless and stupid for Rex to kiss Talia, not just because they were in plain view of Anakin and the Batch, but because he had done it without thinking. His feet carried him across the compound, somehow more determined than his own confused mind as they led Rex in a direction with no idea what course of action he could even take.

  Three heavy knocks pounding on her durasteel door shocked Talia out of her meditation, or more of her attempt at it. She should be packing; she was heading out first thing in the morning, but when she got back to her room she couldn’t focus on anything. Not the report she needed to fill out, not the fact that she was clearly in trouble with the Council from the tone that Windu and Kenobi had used with her. The only thing she could think about was how she could still feel Rex’s lips on hers, could still feel the pressure of his hand against her lower back, the remnants of his essence tattooed in her memory. She practically bolted to her room after speaking with the other Jedi, trying to rid the confusing moment from her mind to no avail.  So when the knocks sounded, in the way that only he ever did, she stared at the door as if that would will it to open, for she was frozen to the ground and unsure if she could even handle being in a space alone with Rex.

Slowly, she rose from the ground, approaching the door with heavy steps before opening it.  Rex stood on her step, his helmet clutched tightly in his hands, doubt and questioning etched into his face. His eyes met Talia’s, and for a moment she half expected him to excuse himself and turn away, instead he blurted, “Can I come in?”

 With a lump in her throat, Talia nodded and stepped to the side, allowing Rex to enter, quickly shutting the door behind him. It was strange how easily he fit into the room, she was so used to sharing spaces with him that she hadn’t pinpointed how empty her quarters felt without him until this moment. His eyes scanned over the room, shifting his feet uncomfortably as he fiddled with his helmet in his hands. He exhaled, and set it on Talia’s desk, before returning to face her.

“Echo left,” he said with measured words. Whatever he was going to say, that wasn’t close to what Talia expected, and she sensed it was not what he planned on saying first.

“I’m sorry,” Talia offered sincerely, knowing how conflicted Rex must feel about it. “I’m guessing he joined the Batch?”

Rex nodded. “I told him to go, and said that if it was where he felt his place was, then that’s where he belongs.”

“Not everyone’s path is the same one they started on,” Talia said sagely, “After everything Echo’s been through, I’m glad he’s able to choose his own way.”

“You know, it’s funny,” Rex said slowly. “’Choice’ was never something us clones would have thought of. From the moment we’re created, our whole plan is set ahead of us. We train, we fight, and then we die for the Republic. Or atleast, that’s what I used to think. Once I got out here, once I lived, I knew nothing could be so simple, no matter how much my training tried to tell me there was just one goal for me. In fact, the longer I’ve survived, the more confusing it all seems.”

“That’s living,” Talia mused softly, “Even the wisest seers in the Order can misread the future. That’s because there’s no accounting for how people grow, how they can change their minds and their wants.”

“Or how they can be pushed in different directions,” Rex added. He shook his head, then glanced back at Talia. They stood in silence, just the low thrum of the air running through the vents of the quarters, the faded sounds of the camp outside the walls.  Rex shifted his stance, and took a breath before addressing Talia again.

“I had to see you before you left,” Rex started, his words weighted and heavy. “I owe you an apology-“

“Rex don’t-“ Talia interrupted, crossing her arms and avoiding his gaze. She gulped. “Emotions were running high, and that can be confusing enough for anyone.”

“That’s not-, I’m not here to apologize for the kiss,” Rex took a deep breath, “I mean...yes, if it upset you, I’m sorry for that. But I’m not sorry I kissed you.”

Talia’s heart pounded, “It didn’t upset me.”

Rex was trembling slightly as he approached her, as if the weight of all the burdens he had been carrying of late were finally releasing from him.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Rex said softly, his voice rough and sincere. “That’s the thing I want least in the galaxy.”

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Talia pleaded, the gap between them closing. “Rex, you know I think so much more of you, of all of you, than that you’re just soldiers-“  

“I know that, “ Rex offered, “I know you too well to think you meant it. But at the moment, it hurt.” 

“I regretted it the second I said it,” Talia continued, “But you left and I realized I ruined everything.”

“You didnt-” Rex took a deep breath, shaking his head as he insisted, “I was the one who fucked it all up.”

“What a pair we are, huh?” Talia forced a laugh before toying with her lip. She glanced back up at Rex, and hesitated before admitting. “We had everything, but it fell apart so fast.”

“We knew it was too good to last.” Rex muttered, but he knew he was lying to himself, trying to comfort the guilt he was feeling.

“Did we? I think I was so blinded, I couldn’t see anything other than you. But then you were gone and…I realized how much of a fool I was…” the words were beginning to roll off Talia’s tongue, faster than her own mind could comprehend what she was saying to hold herself together. “I realized how much I held back and wished I didn’t. How much more we could have had if I hadn’t been such an idiot. Now, when I think of you I’m in pain; because I had something perfect, something amazing. And I lost it because I felt like I didn’t deserve it.”

Rex was silent, and fear crept into Talia that she had admitted too much. That she was speaking to a lost cause, that he had lost any ounce of feeling he once had for her and this conversation was doing nothing but making him pity her. 

“I’m the one who pushed you away,” Rex offered, cutting through Talia’s thoughts. Rex avoided her eyes, as if the piercing gaze would be too strong for him to face as he searched for his own explanation.  “All because I got scared that we could never have what we wanted, that no matter what I felt, it wasn’t possible. You called me a coward, and you were right. Just… after you got hurt, I was so terrified. I couldn’t deal with the pain of losing you like that. And when Cody confronted me, I gave in. Almost as if I felt that if we weren’t together, that it would hurt less than the fear of losing you.”

“Rex,” Talia said softly, lifting a hand to his face. Rex tensed at the contact, and Talia almost retracted her touch, but his eyes met hers and they were those same soft, warm eyes that she loved. She lost her train of thought, any words of reassurance or doubts of herself that she was about to say we lost as she looked into his eyes. Instead, she blurted out words she should have said long ago-“I love you.” 

 Her heart pounded as the words escaped her lips, fear and doubt creeping into her mind as she worried if she lost her mind for even saying it now, the same fear that had kept her from saying it before. But now it was out there and couldn’t be taken back. 

 “I know,” Rex replied softly, stepping so close to her now that barely inches separated them. “I’ve always known. Just like I’ve always known I’m in love with you.”

Talia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, whether to keep spouting her feelings, dating back to all the times she should have said it before, but she just did the thing that felt most natural to her, which was to pull Rex closer and kiss him. 

Rex’s arms were around her in an instant, holding her tightly against him, his grasp so tight it was clear he had no intention of letting her go. Talia’s hands wrapped around the back of his neck, fingernails scraping against that small patch of skin not covered by his undersuit or armor as their kiss deepened, hard and needy. Rex pushed her back into the wall, the cold durasteel firm against her back as Rex’s armor pressed into her front. She gasped as they pulled back for air, at first overwhelmed by the closeness, but when she saw Rex in front of her, she just felt comfort and longing. She pulled him back in, desperately seeking his lips, moaning into his mouth as his thigh slotted in between her legs. 

The noise awakened something in Rex, and he rushed to start taking off some of the armor from his upper body, his fumbling hands unlatching the pieces as Talia held him for the kiss. He needed to be out of his armor, needed to feel the warmth of her body against his. Talia realized what he was doing and pulled back, freeing her hands so she could help. But Rex’s lips found hers once more as they both clumsily grasped at the armor, dropping pieces of plastoid without a care to where they landed, only separating for air. 

“Wait,” Rex gasped once as they pulled back, his lips swollen but a confused look on his face, before he hesitantly asked. “What about Hunter?”

“You know about Hunter?” Talia asked, guilt and apprehension filling her. 

“I do,” Rex swallowed and nodded. “I’m not upset…at least not with you. I let you go, and that’s the biggest mistake I ever made.  If he’s what you want, I’ll step away now. You’ll never hear from me unless you want to. I’m sure he could make you happier than-”

Talia shut Rex up by stepping up on her toes, cupping her hands on his cheeks and catching his lips with hers. Rex's eyes bugged wide, until they fluttered closed, his arms wrapping around her once more, holding her, taking comfort in the soft warmth of the curves of her body she pressed against the grooves of the remaining parts of his armor.

 “I just told you I love you,” Talia reminded him with a slight, teasing giggle. Her face softened as she caressed his cheek with her thumb, “I slept with Hunter, but it was just so I could try and forget you for a moment.”

“I - really?” Rex asked. Talia could almost laugh at how surprised he was, as if he had already accepted the worst. His face then became more serious. “I…you should know. I slept with someone else too. It was just a one night thing, I haven’t contacted her since.”

“It’s okay,” Talia nodded, ignoring the hypocritical way she was hurt. “It doesn’t matter, we don’t have to talk about that now. Just…shut up and keep kissing me.” 

“More than happy to follow that order,” Rex leaned in with a smirk and kissed her with a renewed hunger, his hands tightly gripping the curve of her hips. Talia groaned into Rex’s mouth as she pressed as close to him as possible, her hands fumbling for the latches on his chestplate. Rex pulled back to help her lift it away, and dropped it to the floor with a loud clunk. With only his lower armor still on, Talia’s hands ran up Rex’s chest, feeling the firm muscles and warmth of him in her grasp. Her fingers clenched around the fabric, using it to pull him to her once more. Rex’s hands slid down her waist, gripping under her thighs and picking her up, making Talia yelp in surprise. 

They stumbled to the desk, Rex clumsily setting Talia on the edge of it, their lips barely separating for air. They were frantic, needy, desperate, as if they were afraid the other would disappear if they stopped. Rex pulled at the wrappings of her tunic, exposing Talia’s heaving chest. His mouth only left her lips then, trailing to the soft skin of her neck, his teeth nipping along the exposed skin and down to the breasts about to fall out of her bra. Talia moaned  as Rex slid her bra cup to the side, and sucked at her now exposed nipple. His other hand slid under the other cup, groping at the soft flesh. The cold air left goosebumps over her skin, contrasted by the warmth of Rex’s hands and mouth. Rex could spend hours like this, slowly exploring the body he knew so well yet hadn’t been able to appreciate in so long. In fact there was little else on his mind at that moment besides what he wanted to do to her just in this state of undress, except he had other ideas in mind. 

Rex lowered to his knees, kissing down Talia’s stomach and dragging his hands down her torso, relishing in the sweet gasps for air that were leaving Talia’s lips. Rex’s hands stopped as he began to tug her pants down. Pink scars lingered  on her hip, trailing down her leg from the flame licked path. He paused, his fingers caressing the slightly raised skin, Talias breath hitched, Rex’s eyes flicked to her face, searching for any sign of discomfort. Talia’s eyes had squeezed shut, enough for Rex to push himself up from where he was kneeling. Talia’s eyes opened.

“I’m fine,” Talia reassured quickly, but Rex was still frozen, searching her face. She pressed a hand to his cheek, “Really, I’m ok. I just didn’t think about them.”

“I didn’t either,” Rex explained, “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Talia leaned in to peck his lips, then checked, “Are you ok? We can stop if you want.”

Rex shook his head, “I’ll only stop if you want me to.”

“Please don’t,” Talia said quickly, earning a smirk from Rex for how desperate she sounded. His fingers toyed along the waistline of her pants where they rested on her thighs. 

“Someone’s needy,” Rex teased lowly, his voice thick as honey, slowly pulling at her pants. “Tell me what you want.” 

Talia leaned back resting her elbows on the desk, offering up a sweet look, “I think you know what I want. And I think you want to do it.”

Rex offered a low noise of agreement, but taunted, “That some Jedi instinct?” 

He slowly pulled the pants down a little further. Talia wiggled her hips, trying to shrug them off, but his hand held her firmly in place. She let out a frustrated noise, but Rex just smirked. 

“Use your words, princess,” Rex ordered lowly. Talia’s cheeks burned, and she felt the pit of desire grow in her gut. She was half tempted to curse him for teasing her, and for how well he knew to play her. But she didn’t want to drag this out, they didn’t have time for a back and forth. 

“Please,” Talia started sweetly, only to get slightly desperate as she ordered, “I want your mouth on me.”

“Hmm, I could ask you to be more specific,” Rex murmured, to which Talia made an indignant noise when he smirked, tugging her to the edge of the desk, making her squeak and falling to his knees. “...But I’m not patient enough today.”

Rex tugged her pants and underwear down with one swoop, wasting no time to press his face between her legs, his tongue swiping over her slit. He groaned at the wetness already there, and Talia moaned as his tongue flicked over her swollen clit. One hand held to the edge of the desk, the other leaping to the back of his head. It took everything in her to not hold him still as she ground against his face; she knew he wouldn’t have minded. But Rex licked at her like a man possessed, like she was the best thing he ever tasted. His hands held her firmly against him, grasping at the top of her thighs as he positioned her where he wanted her. He may have been the one on his knees, but he was the one in control. 

It was surely a talent of Rex’s to have barely started but to already have Talia a whimpering mess. Her tunic was still half undone, her chest still half exposed as a red flush settled over her pale skin. She was biting her lip, trying to restrain her noises in some way but she would fail as Rexs tongue flicked over her clit, eliciting louder moans from her. And all he would do was grin up at her, his eyes almost taunting, before he continued his work. 

His grip was tight around her thighs, nails practically digging into her skin as he held her in place. His tongue slid up and down her slit, teasing her by flicking at her clit in between each swipe. Her breaths hitched higher each time, her body reacting so easily to the simplest touch. Rex knew how to set her off, and there were few things he loved more than making her fall apart with just his mouth. He could feel every twitch of her thighs in his hands, hear how she failed to keep herself quiet, and taste just how aroused she was. He wanted her to feel good, wanted to feel her let go, and he worked as if he had something to prove, that he needed to remind her that only he could make her feel this way. 

He circled his tongue around her clit, then wrapped his lips around it and sucked, sending jolts of pleasure up Talia’s spine. The wet heat of his mouth was intoxicating, Talia could hear herself begging him not to stop. Her arms shook so much she struggled to hold herself upright. But her gaze was locked on Rex’s face and how he devoured her. She couldn’t look away, even as tears sprung in the corners of her eyes and her whole body trembled. It was impossible to tear her gaze away, she was fixated even as she was falling apart. It was almost embarrassing how quickly she was coming undone, but she couldn’t help the way her body was lit aflame from every swipe of Rex’s tongue. He was precise, practiced, as dedicated to bringing Talia pleasure as he was in every other aspect of his life. He didn’t let up as her breath quickened, as her body tensed and he didn’t stop even as she cried out his name and quaked, coming from just the quick work of his mouth. 

Talia’s moans faded, but her breath was still heavy as Rex rose from the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He leaned in and kissed her, pulling her off the desk as he did. Talia’s legs were like jelly as she stumbled with Rex to the bed. Her knees hit the frame of the bed and Rex gently nudged her back, causing her to land with a soft flop against the mattress. 

“Take your clothes off,” Rex ordered gruffly, his own hands tearing at the strips holding his remaining armor on. Talia pressed herself up on the bed, still breathless and flushed, but not moving quickly enough for Rex’s liking as he glanced over her, his heaving chest bulging through his undersuit. “Take them off before I rip them off of you.”

“You would just be finishing what you started,” Talia quipped as she gestured to the state of her tunic, still loose around her torso. Rex’s eyes flashed as she still played with the edges of fabric. He stalked to the bed, slowly taking his shirt off; Talia’s mouth went dry as she glanced over his chest, taking in the scarred and muscled form.  He lowered himself to the bed, and slowly crawled on top of Talia. Her heart pounded in her chest as his hands ran up her sides and found the edge of her robes. Talia cocked an eyebrow in a challenge as his eyes met hers. Rex rolled Talia over roughly so she was on her stomach, and her hands braced herself against the mattress as Rex’s hands at the top of her tunic’s back and tugged. With a shredding rip, the fabric pulled off her back and slipped off her arms, leaving Talia in just her bra. She half expected Rex to tug that off as well, but instead his lips met the back of her neck, kissing her softly as his hands deftly undid the clasp. Talia sighed as his lips traveled down her skin, the stubble on his face tickling her. 

For a moment Talia thought Rex would take her like this, that he would shuck his pants off and roughly enter her from behind, pounding her into the mattress as she sheets muffled her cries. And she wouldn’t have minded; her body was coursing with need, prickling with the desire of his touch. But Rex instead gently flipped her over, opposite of the man who had moments ago torn her clothing to shreds. Rex’s lips met hers as soon as her back hit the mattress, a soft, exploring kiss, the moment slowed once again, as if savoring the moment before they delved back into their pure need. But this was what Talia loved about him, how there could be both sides when they were together. The tender with the tough, the smooth against the rough. She could see the switch flip in his eyes whenever they made love, see how his own desire kicked in. But he was always there for her, reading what she wanted and adjusting off her energy. 

The kiss deepened, grew more hungry as they pressed against each other; Rex’s body pining Talia down as she squirmed beneath him, trying to angle her hips so she could relieve some of the tension settling back in her core. Rex ground against her, his still clothed, hard cock pressing against her pussy. Rex groaned into her mouth as he felt how wet she still was, dampening the fabric of his pants. Talia’s hands ran up and down his back, feeling the way Rex’s muscles flexed as he moved against her. Her hands slid down to his waistline, as she tried to nudge down his pants. Rex’s hands met hers as he helped pull them off, rushing to remove them so he could finally have her again. Once they were off, he pressed down against her again, the flame reignited as their naked bodies pressed together, already sweaty and burning with want. Rex’s cock pressed against Talia’s stomach, weeping with precum as he rutted against her, their tongues meeting as they moaned into each other’s mouths. 

“Rex,” Talia whimpered between breaths, “Please. I need you.”

He pulled back slightly as he readjusted, a thin line of spit connecting their mouths. Rex was panting, his eyes blown out as he looked down at her. But he spoke with such an assured, put togetherness as he said in his rough voice,  “Anything for you.”  

Rex entered Talia quickly and forcefully, her breath hitching and her legs spreading wider to ease his access. Rex waited until her body relaxed and her eyes opened, then Talia nodded her head and Rex began to thrust. His hips slammed against hers, his cock thick and hot as it stretched her cunt, her walls gripping around him and practically pulling him in. Rex’s eyes rolled back from the warmth of her, ready to be lost and never come back but he had to last longer, he didn’t want this feeling to end. 

His arms wrapped tightly around her, squeezing her against him in a near crushing grip. Her nails were marking his back as she whimpered beneath him, her breaths punctuating every move of his hips into hers. The room was filled with the loud smack of flesh on flesh, the squelch of their bodies meeting, and the moans and grunts leaving their lips in near unison.

This wasn’t the way this should have gone, it was rushed and needy, with no time taken to care about the little details. They were still dirty from the mission, but the time taken to tidy up might have raised more uncertainty between them than either could stomach just yet. But yet this rushed state was perfection, pure desire coursing through and guiding them, an unstoppable force pushing  them together. 

Talia cried out as Rex’s cock hit a spot deep inside her, making her head bend back in ecstasy. Rex did it again, wanting to see the way her face contorted in pleasure.

“It feels good, doesn't it?” Rex said, continuing to thrust. 

“Yes!” Talia quickly responded, her cheeks flushed. “So good.”

“Who’s doing this to you?” Rex asked, a cocky possessiveness creeping in his tone. 

“You are.” Talia gasped, her eyes meeting his. Rex’s hold around her loosened, and before Talia could whine from the change of pace, Rex’s hand gripped under her thigh and pulled her leg up to rest on his shoulder, his other arm still wrapped around her. His dedicated pace resumed, each thrust like a promise, punctuated with gasps, moans and words escaping lips like a prayer. 

“Who’s the only one who can make you feel this good?” The possessive side of Rex was coming out stronger, as if he had something to prove, or that he needed to hear Talia’s response as much as he knew what it was. 

“You are!” Talia answered. She swallowed, her breath heavy as pleasure crested within her. “I’m yours, only yours.”

“That’s right, you’re mine.” Rex echoed, firm and unyielding. He pounded into her harder, a renewed surge of need running through him. “Mine.”

Rex’s pace continued, hitting Talia right where she needed him. Each thrust was a jolt of pleasure that licked up her gut, so deep she could practically feel him in her throat. She was twisted around him, and he was all encompassing. Their skin was dewed with sweat, their chests almost clinging together as they pressed into one another. Talia would give him anything in this moment, ready to sacrifice all of her as long as he brought her that sweet release. 

“Fuck Rex, don’t stop please.” She begged, cheeks burning and eyes watering. “ I love you.”

“Say it again.” Rex ordered, his pace unfaltering and his chin set, gritting his teeth as if he was barely holding himself together. 

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you!”

Tallia cried out as she came, her breath ragged and her body tensing as Rex lost what last bit of self control he had and he released inside her, hot spurts of cum filling her cunt. Rex’s thrusts slowed, exhaling as he hilted himself inside her. Their foreheads met, sweaty brows and panting breath meeting as their lips barely touched. After a moment that they wanted to last a lifetime, Rex pulled out of Talia and fell to the side, their bodies squeezed next to another in the tiny bed. The space was as small as they were used to sharing, but somehow there was a rightness in the way their bodies fit next to each other, even after all this time. 

“This doesn’t change anything, does it?” Talia asked, still breathless. The air shifted, the calmness that had settled between them now filled with the unknown. Rex tensed, and exhaled a large breath. 

“I don’t see how it can,” was all Rex could think to say. A lump formed in Talia’s throat, tears brimming at the corner of her eyes as she nodded. She rolled over to her side, already pulling off the covers to slip out of the bed and pull her clothes on. Rex’s hand gripped her arm, preventing her from leaving. “Wait, I don’t want-”

“What do you want, Rex?” Talia snapped, “I can’t do this again. I can’t let myself think there’s a chance for something just for you to change your mind. I’m not strong enough to hurt like that again.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Rex repeated for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He meant it, but he knew he had failed that promise in the past. And he didn’t want to mess this up again, to cause her any pain, but he didn’t know what promises he could offer her. Rex sat up, still holding Talia’s arm as he tried to work through this.. “I…I know that things haven’t changed in our situation, but I also know ending things was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made. I want you, Talia.” 

“I want you too,” Talia sighed, leaning back against the headboard. They sat in silence, stuck in the same moment as a million thoughts rushed through their heads. Talia knew there was only one answer to this, at least only one that had a chance to  make them happy. 

“What if I left the Order?”

Rex shook his head, “it was wrong of me to ever ask that of you, it’s not fair-”

“You’re not asking it of me - I’m suggesting it. Rex.” Talia said softly. She looked down at her hands, wringing her scarred wrists as she worked to the realization that has been hidden from her for so long. “I’m not happy. This war has taken so much from me. The Jedi were the only thing I knew, and the only possibility I saw for a future. But Rex…I know so much more now. I know you, that you’re what makes me happy. I can’t lose that again.”

“But you could have so much more than me.” Rex insisted. His hand rested on her face making her meet his eyes so he could make sure she wouldn’t lie to him just to make him happy. “ You could be a Master Jedi, could go on to do great things.”

Talia silenced him by leaning in to kiss him, she pulled back and didn’t let her gaze falter. “Rex - you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me - there’s no more that I need.” 

“But still-”

“Being a Master was never in my cards.” Talia cut him off before he could go on about plans for a different future for her. “ I had a vision about it once, but I think I understand it now. I was always on the outside looking in, never quite fitting in with the rest of the order, or what the council expected of me. But I can find my own path without them. When the war ends, I’ll leave the order. And I’ll be yours, if you’ll have me.”

“You’ll always have me.”Rex answered quickly, a firm promise. “But, what about now? Our situation hasn’t changed.”

“Now is…more complicated. We need to be more careful than before. So. Not really together but…” Talia’s voice trailed off, still not sure what guidelines they could set. Because it was too complicated. She wanted Rex with everything in her, but she couldn’t abandon her men and leave while the war still raged on. And being with Rex while she was still in the Order was too risky now, they’d had too many slip ups already, too many chances that they would be exposed. “Now just…Just hold me, for a few minutes more and we can pretend like everything is okay.”

“We’re not pretending.” Rex said as he pulled her into her arms. His lips brushed against her forehead, lingering there as he continued. “It’s not perfect, but it’s something. I’ll wait for you, whenever you’re ready to leave. I know it’s a big thing.”

“It is, but I think it’s the right thing,” Talia answered. They settled back lower into the bed, a strange kind of peace laying between them. “This mess has to be over soon, so now we have something to look forward to once it’s done.”

“What do you want to do first?” Rex asked tentatively, allowing himself to think of an ‘after’ the war for the first time in a way that wasn’t dimmed by darkness. 

Talia hummed thoughtfully, her lips pursing in before a grin curved on her lips. She glanced up at Rex, a twinkle in her eye as she said, “We should go back to the island.”

Rex huffed out a light laugh, “Better prepared and without the crash landing this time, I hope?”

“Duh,” Talia mocked. She wrapped an arm over his chest, her fingers tracing along the edges of his scars like she had done that first time on the very beach they were talking about. “It’s where we began, it’s where we can start again.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Rex mused, a lazy half smile on his lips, “How about we meet there, once it’s all over.”

“Sounds like a plan, captain.” Talia pressed her lips to his again. “Or a promise.”

 “Have I told you how beautiful you are?” Rex murmured, his hand cupped on the side of Talia’s face.

Talia thought her cheeks would ache from smiling, that they were burning from the blush that lingered on them. “You might have mentioned it sometime.”

“Not enough, I daresay,” Rex offered with a sly grin. He leaned closer to her, the coarse hairs of his scruff grazing along her neck in a way that sent shivers down her spine even in her exhausted state. He pressed a kiss in the curve of her neck, trailing up to her ear where he whispered once more, “You’re beautiful.”

“I love you so much,” Talia sighed.

Rex huffed a low chuckle. “So that’s all it took? Me calling you beautiful?”

“It’s a fair trade, I think,” Talia teased, lightly smacking his arm. But she set her face straight as she met his eyes again. “I mean it. I love you, Rex.”

 “I love you too.”

He leaned down to kiss the spot just below her ear, repeating his words once more. He trailed his kisses, followed by his adorations up her neck, to her jaw bone, as if tattooing the words upon her skin to leave his mark evermore. His lips traced to the end of her scar, pausing when Talia slightly flinched from the contact against the slightly sensitive skin. His eyes scanned  hers, waiting for Talia’s nod that it was ok, and he leaned in, tenderly kissing over the raised skin, “I love you, Talia.”

Talia sighed, a warmth of contentment filling her she hadn’t been sure she would ever feel again. She curled against him, feeling the warmth of Rex’s skin beneath hers, listening to the thud of his heartbeat. Her lips grazed the scar in the center of his chest, from the bolt that just missed his heart all those years ago. They laid together under that rough spun blanket, in the far too small cot, their arms wrapped around each other, their skin clinging to each other as they didn’t want to leave the others grasp. They fought off sleep, savoring the small moment they had with one another. It had been so long without the other's touch, but that absence only created a craving, a burning desire for the other’s comfort that would never be satisfied. They didn’t have the answers, not completely anyway. This simple impassé would be enough to hold over, to bridge the road to repair what they’d had before. There was the promise of something stronger, the unknown path of destiny and fate a sweet calling. What further doubts they had were buried beneath the surface, vanquished at the broken walls of their greatest barrier. As she drifted off, Rex’s hand brushed over Talia’s back, fingers grazing over the scars she received at the hand of the Zygerrians. The soothing action propelled her into sleep, no nightmares to be had tonight. Her dreams were filled with contentment and comfort, something the promise of a future with Rex held.

--

Next Chapter

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[willowfolksong]

Um hello!!! Can I request Sakusa + enemies to lovers with fem or gn!reader??

finding home

- Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

- SFW

a/n: this is a request by the lovely @amarinthe , who's also a fellow writer, and you should totally check out her blog. I do hope that this fits your idea dear, and I apologize for the royal!AU and the almost arranged marriage I threw in the mix as well. If it's not what you had in mind tho, just let me know and I'll write something else. I still hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Thank you again, you're very sweet ❤

Love,

Willow 🍂

Requests are open! 🍂

It's freezing in your cell. You hug yourself, rubbing your arms in chase of the heat you need to survive. There are no mirrors there, just walls and bars, and a window too high for you to reach, but you know your lips must be turning blue. You crack one eye open to look at your nails, digging hard on the flesh of your arms.

Purple, like the dress you wore on your last birthday.

There will be no more birthday's on the palace where you grew up. No more feasts. No more laughs. The land you used to call home it's nothing but ashes on top of ashes now, growing cold under the fall of snow.

You've lost the strength to cry.

By the time your the door of your cell opens and closes, and the shadow of a man washes over you, shivers are wreaking your body from head to toe. The stranger clicks his tongue, something like annoyance in the command he gives to the guard on the other side of the metal bars. You're too numb to think about what's happening when one of them picks you up in his arms and carries you out of the walls you've ben trapped since you were captured. The last thing you see before succumbing to sleep is a flash of brown hair on the corner of your eyes.

Grand Duke Kiyoomi has eyes as dark as his soul, and you hate him since the first time you saw your own reflection on them. He visits you on the chambers they've given you on the north wing of the palace, when you're already strong enough to walk around again. You still have bruises and cuts all over your legs, from when they dragged you through the streets of your own city to throw you in a separate wagon from the rest of the prisoners. A princess deserves special treatment.

He eyes your recovering wounds in silence, his gaze lingering over your uncovered shoulders. "I hope you're comfortable" he says at last, hands behind his back and a boring expresion on his face.

You try not to laugh out of spite, and end up huffing instead. "I would be more comfortable in my own room"

"This is your own room now" Kiyoomi explains, as if he was speaking to a toddler. His calm voice makes you want to throw up.

"I thought I was a prisoner" you reason. You didn't dream what happened to your kingdom. To your people and your family. You were there. You remember it. "Prisioners are not supposed to sleep in lavish rooms"

"You'll be sleeping here, and that's final"

When he leaves, you throw a pillow at the door and muffle your screams in your bedsheets until your throat burns like acid.

You're not sure what you're supposed to do. You've never had everything taken away from you until now. A maid that doesn't speaks to you brings you food and comes by to help you bath and dress, but you snap at her and yell until you don't have any air in your lungs, and she's gone in tears. The door is always locked, but you still try to open it everytime you wake up, and then once more before going to bed.

When you start to return your meals intact, Kiyoomi stops by your room again. All dressed in black, he looks like death.

"I won't let you starve to death" he tells you, and this time you do laugh, a bitter sound violently ripped out of your throat.

"You won't let me get out of the room either. Or explain to me what's happening or why am I here"

He nods after a few tense seconds, apparently conceding that you indeed don't have any idea of what's going on.

"Your kingdom is gone. You're the last survivor of the royal family..."

"All because of you" you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes against your will "Monster"

He pauses, squinting his eyes, just in time for the hilt of his sword to catch the light coming from the window. You couldn't be more glad for the large bed in between the two of you.

"I won't have you locked up in a cold cell like a criminal" he talks again after a second.

"You'll have me whither away in a room that's not my own instead" he turns around to leave, but the sound of your voice makes him stop "And that's it? Am I supposed to stay here, sleeping forever under the same roof of my family's murderer?"

You refuse to drown in the dark of his eyes when he looks back at you over his shoulder "Yes"

You wander around the same room day in and day out. The maid that used to come help you is replaced by a much younger one— a curious little thing with wide eyes and an easy smile for someone that's supposed to be her enemy. You scream at her, fend her off, but this one isn't afraid, and she always comes back. Soon, the loneliness makes you crack, and you find yourself answering her questions in quiet little whispers.

You can see the snow covering the gardens outside, from the window near your bed. There's nothing safe from the frosty white, except the eyes of your captor.

"I want to see him" you tell Lia, the new maid, one evening while she brushes your hair.

She pauses, hand frozen by the top of your head "You want to see the Grand Duke?"

"Yes"

"Oh" she resumes her movements with a stiffness that wasn't there before "I see"

"Could you tell someone?" you ask, searching for her eyes on the mirror "You're the only person around that I talk to"

"I'll do my best"

He comes to see you at dawn, and you gasp and cover yourself with the covers, retreating back into your bed. He's dressed as usual, the gold patterns on his black tunic mocking your disheveled hair and puffy eyes.

"Did you want to talk?"

You swallow the hate that rises from your belly, folding your hands on your lap and keeping your eyes on him "Yes"

"I'm listening"

"I want to be able to come out of this room" he doesn't moves, doesn't says a word, and so you continue "I'm going crazy in here. I need to breathe"

He walks to the window, gloved hands firmly held behind his back. He's imposively tall, a menacing dark shadow against the colors of winter. You bring the covers closer to your chest.

"If you try to escape, I'll search for you and lock you up again" he warns you, impassive "This time forever"

"Where would I escape to?" you ball your fists into he sheets and bite your bottom lip until it bleeds.

"Fair"

It's more freezing inside than out, with walls covered with the portraits of people you don't recognize, and the many closed doors you don't care that much to open.

And the empty stares of the guards, and the servants whispers that follow behind you as you move from one room to another.

So you decide to spend time outside instead, letting the snow cover the skirt of your dress and burying your hands in the white, smooth surface to feel something similar to what you did when Christmas time was around, and your only worry was not to fall sick.

You leave a trail of water and melted ice on your wake, back to your room. Kiyoomi regards you wearily when you reach the top of the stairs, his eyes disapproving the mess behind you.

"Be more careful" he says, tone clipped "There's water everywhere"

The next day, you bring as much snow as you can in your dress, soaking the entrance carpet and staining the stairs.

"The Grand Duke is a good person" Lia tells you out of nowhere one night while she pours water over your head. You lean your head back against the edge of the tub "He's much better than his uncle" you open one of your eyes to look at her when she comes closer to whisper conspiratorially in your ear "The king"

"Does the king has any children?" you ask, cupping water between your hands and watching it escape between your fingers.

Lia hums "No, he doesn't. So Lord Kiyoomi is technically his heir"

You want to plunge your head under water and hold your breath until you explode "I see"

You find the library by chance, during a stormy day when the entrance doors are firmly closed. It's huge, like the one from your home, and you spot a few familiar titles between the shelves. When the night arrives, you're surrounded by mountains of them, the skirt of your dress open around you. You notice Kiyoomi looming over you just when you start the second chapter of a novel that has caught your eye.

"It's late" he says, and you lift your eyes to watch the candles on each of his hands curiously "You should be in your room"

"I should be home" you spit at him, turning the page "But that place doesn't exist anymore. We're not always were we're supposed to be"

He leaves one candle near the stache of books on your right and disappears out of your sight.

You can still feel his presence lingering behind you, but you refuse to acknowledge it, only sparing him a glance when you decide to abandon your reading for the night. Over the flickering flames of the candle beside him, he watches you leave.

It becomes an habit of yours. The only way you can escape is through a book. Between their pages, you can be anything but a prisoner of war in the claws of your enemy. You devour book after book, plot after plot.

You talk with the characters in your sleep.

You start getting curious about topics you've never wanted to read before.

One day, at the top of your pile of to-read ones, you find a book that you don't recognize. A fairytale one, full of myths and legends from your land, with a hard red cover and gold intricate letters for the title. You read the stories with your mother's voice in your head, and cry yourself to sleep that night, with the book held tightly between your arms.

Kiyoomi is startled to see you appear in the dining room with the morning light. You can tell because both of his eyebrows go up, only for a fraction of a second, and he rests his knife perfectly angled with the plate in front him.

You chose a seat directly in front of him, on the other side of the long table. A servant rushes to you immediately, apologizing profusely, and calling more people to help him serve you and bring you the same of what Kiyoomi is having.

The Grand Duke blinks.

"Do you have any other books like that?" you ask, twirling around the milk on your cup, food still untouched.

"I do"

"Can you lend them to me?"

"I can gift them to you"

You hum.

You will not feel any gratitude for such a menial gesture.

He killed your family.

You close your eyes and try to remember your father's face without any blood on it.

The milk soothes your burning throat "I would appreciate that"

You eat in silence, Kiyoomi's eyes never abandoning you. When you're done and you stand up to leave, you realize he didn't touched the rest of his food.

"I don't believe in them, you know" you suddenly tell him one of those evening where he sits by the table behind your usual spot on the floor, quietly reading some stuff of his own. He lifts a single eyebrow at your words "It's not like I believe in fairytales. Not anymore"

"I see"

You huff, pursing your lips at his dismissal. You feel like talking. You feel like saying anything to fill the silence. "It's about familiarity"

"About finding a piece of what you lost in them" he provides, and you forget whatever you were going to say to watch him curiously.

He sounds like he understands.

"Do you do that too?"

His gaze is back to the pages in his hands "No"

You have a feeling he does.

"His parents died when he was little" Lia confides you, munching thoughtfully on the little biscuits you offered to share with her "A tragedy. No one really knows hat happened. Well, at least none of us common folks. Maybe someone on the royal family knows what really happened to them"

"He was raised by his uncle, then?" you ask, taking another sip of your tea. It's grown cold, and you leave it on the tray with a grimace.

"Yes, but not the king. The other one. On his mother side. Lord Motoya's father"

"Oh?"

"It was better that way, if you ask me" she keeps talking, asking permission with a glance to eat the rest of the treats. You nod, and she happily brings another other one to her mouth "The king is... well... a difficult person. I'm glad that the Grand Duke was raised by a good family. Only God knows how my life as maid would have been here if not"

"You should take your gloves off to do that" you casually suggest at Kiyoomi in the middle of your reading. There's a romance novel by your feet, and your favorite fairytale book open on your lap, but you're sudenly bored, and watching the flames dance on the fireplace it's only fun for a while.

"To read?" you peek from behind your shoulder to see if Kiyoomi is looking at his hands. He is, and when his gaze promptly snaps to you, you quickly go back to pay attention to the fire.

"To turn the pages" you explain "It's the best feeling in the world, to feel them. Their texture. On your fingers"

"I never take off my gloves"

"There is something that everyone knows, tho" adds Lia, voice hoarse and eyes trained on the ceiling, from where she is laying back on the bed. You changed the tea for a bottle of wine and now she seems to have suddenly forgotten that you're technically a princess.

A prisoner one, but still a princess.

"What's that?"

She thinks for a moment, maybe reconsidering if it's a good idea to tell you. Maybe just waiting for the alcohol to pass.

"He found them" she finally says "His family"

"Found them dead?"

"Yeah. The servants say that when his uncle arrived, he was kneeling down in front of their bodies, hands bathed in blood"

You hate that you're used to walk around the endless halls, and that you know the garden by memory now. You hate that one day you look out the window, and little dots of green seem to be fighting against the white. That the cold dies, and the warm light of the morning sun gets strong enough to make you cast your blankets aside.

Life is finding it's way. It's spring.

Kiyoomi's presence is not unwelcomed anymore, as much as you try and fail to make your body react in an uncomfortable way around him. You hate that you've started to look forward to see him at the library, and that his judging stare comforts you as you stroll through the melting snow that has piled around the garden fountain.

You hate that the black of his eyes has become an alluring trap, and that death is not the only thing you see in them anymore.

They shine in the light.

"I hate you" you say one day, during one of those breakfast that became a tradition without you realizing it.

He stops eating to look at you from behind his long eyelashes "I know"

"I hate what you did to my family and to my kingdom"

He stills, and one of his hands moves to fix the glove on the other one. It's a nervous habit. You've been observant "I wasn't there"

"What?"

"I wasn't there" he says again, louder this time "And I didn't gave the order either"

"They were your men" he nods, back to cutting his bread. "They were your men, and that's why it's your fault"

"I know"

"It's your fault" you repeat, frustrated, getting up and throwing your knife and fork on the table with a resounding clank that makes the boy standing near the door with the pitcher of water jump "You won't take that away from me"

"Isn't this marvelous?" Lia says, dancing around your room with your brush in one hand and a bottle of perfume in the other "You're being invited to have dinner with the Grand Duke. This is such a big occasion!"

You shrug, looking at your reflection in the vanity mirror "It's nothing big. I've had breakfast with him before"

"Breakfast is not the same as dinner" Lia finally comes to stand behind you, ready to make your hair shine "Having dinner with someone feels much more important"

The man that comes looking for you to escort you to the dining room it's dressed in full armor, a long white cape with a dark shield flowing behind him. He looks you up and down and bows, smiling teasingly, before falling into step besides you.

"A pleasure to finally meet you, princess" you're not sure if he's being serious or not, but you nod regardless. The twinkling of his silver armour makes your thoughts a bit jumpy.

"I don't think I've seen you before" you say, and it's true, because you would remember someone like him around, with golden hair and knowing brown eyes.

"That's because we The Twelve had businesses in the capital" he explains "But we might be staying around here for some time now"

You know about The Twelve. They're the most important knights of the kingdom, the ones trusted to ensure peace. The king most valuable and closest allies.

This man, walking beside you and looking at you as if he was your friend, could have been there, leading the attack on your land, at the head of the troops that stormed the city and betrayed the treaty of temporal peace between the two kingdoms.

"You can call me Atsumu" he offers you, opening the door for you and standing back while you enter the room "We'll probably be seeing each other around a lot now"

Kiyoomi's hair has been swept back, no longer falling in front of his eyes, and it's both terrifying and exciting to have such a clear view of him, from your place a chair of distance from him.

"I trust Atsumu didn't gave you any trouble"

You glare at your cup of wine in silence, before swallowing your feelings and shakily taking a long gulp "He's one of The Twelve"

"You know who they are" it's not a question. You nod once, then twice to be sure. "He was not there"

"I didn't ask"

"You didn't need to"

"Why are you doing this?" you snap, cup of wine already empty. "What am I supposed to do here? What do you want me to do? Endlessly roam this long halls? Forever be your forced guest? Are we supposed to be friends?"

"I don't want to be your friend"

"Then what do you want?" you scream, standing up and dragging your plate to the floor, where it smashes into little pieces.

He doesn't answers you, but follows you after you storm out of the room, leaving an apparently amused Atsumu standing guard by the doors. The pale light of the harvest moon glows around you as you skid to a stop, the red skirt of your dress whispering against the stones.

He's right behind you, catching your hand with one of his owns, and stopping you from hitting him with the other one by pining you against the glass of the window at your right, the recently awoken garden the only witness of your spat.

"Look at me" he commands, voice soft but stern, and you do so for only a moment, until the onyx of his eyes becomes unbearable once more, and your eyes have to fall to his shoes.

He pins both of your hands on top of your head with one of his owns, lifting your chin with the other one.

"Stop this" you plead, and you're not sure what you want to put a stop to.

"I didn't had any part in what happened to your kingdom" shaking your head it's impossible when his hold on your chin becomes hard enough to bruise.

You clench your teeth "You're lying"

"I'm not looking to convince you. Not with my words at least. But I'm speaking nothing but the truth"

You eye the hilt of the sword he never seems to leave behind —greedy eyes filled with rage. "I want to slither your throat and watch you bleed on the floor"

He releases your wrists, and your face, but doesn't moves an inch. His warm breath hits your check when he leans down, engulfing you with his presence, pressing one hand on the glass behind your head and letting the other fall loosely to his side.

"Do it" he whispers, black eyes challenging you "I won't stop you" you don't do anything but take a step forward as he retreats, chasing his warm and watching him leave with half lided eyes. He stops before rounding the corner "I hope the mess you made on the dining room tonight it's not something that happens again"

"There's something happening in the capital" Lia tells you one night. You've been busy assessing the new shy flowers that have started to grow— wild lilies and spring daisies— and you don't look at her until you're done counting the new blooms. When you do, you find her much more pale than usual "My mother wrote me to tell me that everyone seems to be on edge. Like something bad is going to happen"

"Something bad?" you ask, frowning. She brings her hands together and closes her eyes in a silent prayer.

"She's talking about moving to the countryside for a while, until the air clears. I just pray for this not to mean war. We've had enough with..."

"With my entire kingdom being conquered by your king" you provide, voice devoid of emotion.

Lia sniffles, hugging herself "I apologize if I sounded rude"

"Who would attack the capital anyway? Your king's feud was with my father alone, and I doubt any neighboring land would want to face the most powerful army there is"

"My mom is not sure but she thinks..." Lia wets her chapped lips and lets her gaze drift to the window "She thinks it's something internal"

Lord Motoya seems oddly familiar, although you can't pinpoint why. He's chatting animatedly with a knight when he spots you, and then calls you over immediately. You think you at least recognize the other man.

"Your hair is different" it's the first thing you say, and the knight seems to be taken aback only for a second, before chuckling amused.

"Was it gold before?"

"I believe so, yeah"

"Don't tell me you haven't heard the mighty tales of the Twin Knights?" Lord Motoya intervenes, chuckling as well. You shake your head, realization dawning upon you.

"You're Lord Atsumu's brother"

The man doesn't bows as his brother did, but still tilts his head down respectfully at you.

"Don't let their hair fool you" Lord Motoya shares with you later, sipping wine and eating cookies in one of the garden tables, now that is warm enough to sit outside "Atsumu and Osamu are more alike than what you think"

"They're twins, after all"

"I think is more than that" Lord Motoya says, scratching his brown hair in thought "But families can be complicated. Just look at my cousin's one, for instance" you say nothing at that, eyeing him curiously, and so he continues "His uncle is insane. I bet you've heard the rumours"

"Believe me, I know it in the flesh"

If he's taking aback by your obvious reference, he doesn't shows it "Luckily for all of us, Kiyoomi is different. And lucky for you too"

"I don't consider myself a lucky person, to be honest" you muse, but Lord Motoya dismisses your thoughts with a wave of his hand, leaning back in his chair and sighing peacefully.

"Spring is always a good time for everyone. It's probably why Kiyoomi choose to marry now"

You still, hands frozen in your lap and heart threatening to burst out of your chest. Lord Motoya regards you with an unreadable expresion, and you force yourself to smile at his words, even tho they have cutten into you like sharp glass.

"I didn't knew he was getting married"

You see the Grand Duke again a couple of weeks after your meeting in the garden. You're sitting by the window, in a simple white dress with short sleeves and no shoes. You won't be running anywhere. He doesn't knocks, as always, silently closing the door behind him and walking until he's standing next to you, his eyes trailing down the skirt of your dress that pools around your feet. The sun is painting the sky in shades of red.

"You haven't been around the library lately" he says, and keeps talking without waiting for an answer "And you haven't come down to have breakfast on the dining room either"

"I thought you said you didn't want me making a mess"

"I don't"

"Then you must be relieved"

He takes his time to answer this time "I'm not"

You turn your body to look at him, bathed in the golden light of the dying day. There's something akin to longing swimming in the dark pools of his eyes, and you can only hope that your own matching yearning it's not as evident in yours. You clear your throat, unsure about how to address what you want to say, but deciding for something simple at the end.

"Congratulations on the wedding"

He nods, his eyes never leaving you "Thank you"

"Are you excited?"

He doesn't stops to think about it too much "I suppose I am, yes"

"Good"

The sun has hidden behind a cluster of clouds when he speaks again, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. You close your eyes to just feel.

"I'll be leaving for a few days, but I'll see you as soon as I return"

"Of course"

Only when he's gone you notice he wasn't wearing any gloves.

The news about the coup d'etat travel fast, and the sudden chaos that erupts in the castle must be a smaller replica of what's happening in the capital. Everyone tells a different version. Some talk about The Twelve marching through the city gates and encountering no resistance whatsoever. Others whisper about a bloody battle, and the king's suspicious that had made him stand prepared.

There's something every story seems to have in common tho, and that's the Grand Duke's role.

"I can't believe he took the throne away from his uncle like that" Lia tells you, and she seems to be in a perpetual state of disbelief since the news arrived "And I also can't help but feel glad about it. I think everyone does"

"He'll be crowned king, right?" she stares at you for what it feels like an eternity before answering.

"I suppose he will"

Kiyoomi keeps his word. You're escorted to his chambers by Atsumu, the same day he comes back. The knight has a still open wound on his forehead and looks much more thinner than when you first saw him, but there's an air of victory that surrounds him, that makes anything else pale in comparison. You don't ask for details, and he purposely seems to avoid them, talking about the weather and the flowers in full bloom, and winking before opening the doors for you.

He's standing in front of what must be the desk he always works in, a surprisingly organized space despite the mountains of papers and piles of unopened letters. Your hands are shaking when you stop in front of it, and he slides a parch of paper towards you. You're too busy noticing the bags below his eyes and the cut near his lips, and accepting the fact that yes, you're relieved, and you might have missed him more than what you should— to be able to pay attention to what's written in font of you.

"I told you I would see you as soon as I came back" he says, and you bite your lip and push a lock of hair behind your ear "Now I need you to read this"

It's a signed document naming you the sole heir of the lands that once belonged to your family. They're not an independent kingdom anymore, but you retain the princess title, and they will be directly under your rule when you marry the king.

Kiyoomi is already by your side when you leave the paper on the desk again, staring at him with wide eyes.

"What is this?"

He smiles, and it's so rare and wonderful that the cut on his upper lip won't be able to spoil the moment "I believe you know what it is"

"Marrying the king?" you ask, even tho in your head the question was a much more longer one.

Kiyoomi looks down to start taking his white gloves, in front of your startled eyes.

"My uncle was a despicable human that never knew how to rule. Probably because the throne wasn't rightfully his, but my father's" he leaves both gloves on the desk, and before his hands can fall to the side, you take a step forward to grab one of them between yours. He lets you caress his fingers one by one, before you place them on your cheek. He draws a line on your skin with his thumb. "I'm taking what's rightfully mine now, and giving you back what he stole from you too"

"I..."

"You will still have to marry me, that is" he adds, and you can't see through the tears in your eyes if his smile is still in place or not "I hope that your hate of me doesn't gets in the way of that"

When you throw yourself in his arms and his lips claim yours in a desperate kiss, you think about maybe having found a new home.

[heartmix]

Had Me At Heads Carolina- Adam Page

Pairing: "Hangman" Adam Page x fem!reader

Word Count: 800+

Warning: drinking, that might be it?

A/N: I am so fucking obsessed with this song. I should thank it for getting me out of the writers' block I had all summer. I also had an idea to do Adam's pov of these events.

*Based on She had me at Heads Carolina by Cole Swindell and Heads Carolina, Tails California by Jo De Messina*

Masterlist / Wrestling Masterlist

Who didn't love karaoke? Who didn't love going to the bar and drinking? Who didn't love going to a good country bar to do both of those things? Country bars are like no other. The atmosphere was never dull whether you were line dancing to "fake ID" or belting your heart out to "before he cheats".

Tonight was different. No one in your friend group had any breakups or any recent boyfriend/girlfriend troubles. It was a fun carefree night to celebrate the well-deserved weekend ahead. It seemed like everyone at the bar was doing the same thing seeing no one drowning in their sorrows so far. Friday night was in full force.

Nodding to the bartender, who was a familiar face, to start your tab and your first round as she greeted you guys with a big smile. Taking your seat at the middle of the bar someone was already belting out a Luke Bryan song making you immediately smile. Drunk karaoke was starting early for some people.

"Here you go my darlings. I put you down on the next two." Jo, the bartender gave us our beers and shots with a smile as we all thanked her.

"What's it going to be tonight?" Your best friend asked for your song choice after we took our first sips.

"I'm in the mood for some 90s country." You hummed which didn't really surprise her.

"Can't wait to see that."

Everyone in here was a regular. You could name every single person drunk and with your eyes closed. Those who weren't regulars stuck out like a sore thumb. The group in the far corner booth was a prime example. Although they were tucked away quietly, their clothing and behavior gave it away. All of them stood out except for one.

His denim and boots were a dead giveaway that he wasn't new to the scene. His friend's gym shirts and sneakers were a dead give away they were new. His whiskey compared to his friend's waters and one with a beer intrigued you. You were snapped out of your observing state with your name being called to the stage.

The stage wasn't big but it for sure wasn't small. It was big enough to fit a small band that usually played during the weekdays. The whole bar could see the stage no matter where they were. Smirking as you went on stage, every familiar face cheered for you making any nerves you had, go away. Not like you haven't done this before.

"I'm in a 90's mood. Nothing new for this place." You said into the mic as the crowd cheered in anticipation to see what song you picked.

Baby, what do you say we just get lost

Leave this one horse town like two rebels without a cause

I've got people in Boston, ain't your daddy still in Des Moines

We can pack up tomorrow, tonight let's flip a coin

The first line got everyone in the mood. Who doesn't love some Jo Dee Messina? All eyes were on the stage, even the people in the booths looked your way. Everyone on the dance floor, and around the stage was dancing which let you know that the right song was chosen.

Heads Carolina, tails California

Somewhere greener, somewhere warmer

Up in the mountains, down by the ocean

Where it don't matter, long as we're goin'

Somewhere together, I got a quarter

Heads Carolina, tails California

The song ended with a bunch of cheers and screaming as others were singing along with you. Getting off the stage you had a fresh beer waiting for you courtesy of Jo. All your friends cheered and teased acting as if you were the most famous person here. As you hushed them, from the corner of your eye you felt someone slide into the empty seat to the right of you.

"You had me at heads Caroline." The voice from that said person commented making you look over in curiosity as the voice was recognizable.

To your surprise, it was the same guy you were observing earlier. The one with the nice boots and one of the best brands of whiskey this bar carries. He was the last person you expected to be saying that to you. With him being closer and in better light you got more of a good look at him. Brown curly hair, beard well-groomed, eyes kind and genuine. Something you normally don't find in bars.

"Oh did I now?" You asked in amusement.

"More like, baby, what do you say we just get lost." The words rolled off of his tongue like butter.

Whether it was the little alcohol in your body or the thrill of the karaoke you did just minutes ago, you didn't mind the man's flirting. In fact, you welcomed it with a smile. He was a friendly face despite you only seeing him for the first time not too long ago. The night was different. No heartbreak, no significant other drama, nothing negative, and the man in front of you was quite a good reminder that it was different.

"Hmmh. You had me at heads Carolina."

[bteezxyewriter12]

My Immortal/ 9

Pairing- Seonghwa x Named Reader

Word count- 3k

Includes- Fight, threats

Series Masterlist

🌟gifs are from google

1 week later

J POV

I watch Seonghwa performing on stage on the monitors backstage in a dressing room and I smile

He was made to be on stage

His voice is beautiful, the way he dances is graceful, the looks on his face are hot

He finally found what he wanted to do after fourteen hundred years

All the guys are amazing

And they do it all without compulsion

They all have natural talent

I can't wait until he comes backstage and I can show him how proud I am of him

The wives and girlfriends of the other guys are standing to the side of the stage watching them

I was too but I had to use the bathroom

Then he caught my eye on the monitor and I stopped to watch

The next song is starting and I start to turn to leave the dressing room to go to the stage when I stop

Through the loud music, I can hear four sets of footsteps

And I can smell the scent of the slayer

The girl I bit last week

She's here with others

And by the way they're trying to be quiet, I think they're trying to sneak up on me

I almost laugh out loud but I'm supposed to be pretending I don't hear them, so I don't

Instead I face the monitor making them think I can't hear them

A few minutes later, I hear them all enter the room

Standing up, I run to the door, slamming it closed

Then I run to each of them, relieving them of their weapons

I'm able to do this in under five seconds, then I'm standing in front of them

"Nice supply of weapons you have", I smirk, nodding at the couch with the stakes, belladonna laced holy water, crossbow and silver bolts

"And is that a witch?", I ask glaring at the red head, "I can smell it on her"

"That's freaky", the male says

"Human. Witch. Slayer", I say, turning to the last man, "Watcher. Surprised your slayer is still alive"

"Well I've died twice", the slayer says

"Good for you", I roll my eyes, "So here's what's going to happen. I'm going to snap the witch's neck, compel the watcher to kill himself with a stake, make you suffer before I rip your heart out and feed on the human. All before Seonghwa comes back"

"You can try", the slayer snaps, trying to be brave

I laugh, "Oh it will happen. All in less than a minute"

Moving quickly, I grab a stake, the silver burning my hand then going in front of the watcher, I look in his eyes, "Stab yourself in the heart with the silver stake"

Shoving the stake in his hand, I get behind the witch just as the watcher raises his arm

"Giles", the slayer cries, running at him

She knocks him down, holding his arm away from his body

Grabbing the witch's shoulder and neck, she screams

"No wait! Please!", the slayer cries

"Why? You tried to come here, sneak in here with your friends to kill me and Seonghwa. When I left you alone, when I spared your life. Now you deserve what you get"

"No don't!", she yells, "You haven't killed anyone yet! That's what Seonghwa said to you. He doesn't want you to kill a human"

I hesitate

Seonghwa is right

I haven't killed a human

He taught me how to feed without killing

He taught me how to knock out human enemies without killing them

He's killed any human that tried to hurt me or him so I didn't have to

He would be upset and worse, disappointed if I kill them

But they tried to attack me with the intention of killing Seonghwa

And he would let them if I'm dead

I can't let that happen

"A witch isn't human", I growl, "I told you. I warned you that if you tried anything I'd kill you. You dragged these people into this. Their death is on you"

"Please don't kill me", the witch cries, "Please"

"You can haunt your friend over there for dragging you here. Who thought she could actually hurt me. She should have left us alone", I growl

"Giles stop", the slayer yells, punching him in the face, effectively knocking him out

She looks up at me in anger

"That's not going to stop him. Once he wakes up he will still try to stab himself again"

"Then tell him not to!"

"Oh let me think- no"

"He doesn't deserve to die!", she yells

"Neither do I! Neither does Seonghwa!"

"You're a vampire!"

"Not all vampires are evil you idiot. I'm not. Seonghwa's not. None of the guys or their wives are either!"

Her eyes widen, "The whole....group"

"Duh", I roll my eyes

What a dumbass

Does she think that the group would be humans with a vampire?

"All this talking is boring me"

"Wait. Please. We'll leave. When Giles wakes up, you can tell him not to kill himself and we'll leave"

"And what's to stop you from tracking us again. You know we live in Korea. What's to stop you from coming there?"

"I promise I won't. Just please. I can't lose him. He's like my dad"

I falter at that

I remember my father

I miss him so much

I wasn't able to say goodbye to him or my mother

Seonghwa had to think fast and I don't blame him

I just wish I could have said goodbye to them

"Fine. I don't kill any of you, I end the compulsion and you disappear from my life, from Seonghwa's life and his member's life"

"Fine. I promise"

I spin the witch around, compelling her, "You will sit on the couch and not move. If the slayer attacks, you will not do anything to help her. If she tries to find me or Seonghwa or any ATEEZ member or their wives after you leave you will kill yourself immediately"

"I will", she says then goes to the couch sitting down

Getting the human, I do the same compulsion on him, then let him go next to the witch

I glare at the slayer and sit on the couch opposite her two friends

She cautiously comes over, sitting at the single sofa chair

"So who are my would be assassin's?", I question, "I assume the old watcher on the floor is Giles. Sounds British. Mine was Wilson. From the council. Why I had an English watcher instead of a Danish one was always stupid to me"

"Yeah well Giles is English", the male answers

"And you are?"

"Xander"

I look to the witch

"Willow"

Then I look at the slayer

"Buffy"

Weird fucking name but I already knew that

I researched her after she attacked Seonghwa to find out as much as I could about her

Just in case

Seems like I was right to do that

"Are you really a princess?", Willow blurts

I roll my eyes, "I was. Princess of Denmark"

"Did you wear a crown?", she asks excitedly

"Sometimes. Sometimes it was a tiara", I answer, "And yes before you asked, I wore gowns, I had servants to help me get dressed, I had jewels and all the things you can think a princess can have. I also had peasant men's clothes to fight in"

"Wow. You were a slayer princess"

I nod

I was

Although I wasn't so great at being a princess

I was awesome as a slayer

"Was it hard?", Willow asks

"Sometimes. I was tired a lot. I spent my day as a princess, learning to run a household which was boring. Any free time during the day, I was training with my watcher. And at night, I'd hunt and slay."

"Sounds like Buffy. A full day"

I highly doubt it was as hard as mine

After all if anyone found out, their would be a dire punishment

One for being out without a chaperone at night and one for fighting

I was always nervous about being caught but after I met Seonghwa, I relaxed more as he would be able to compel anyone to forget what they saw

Fortunately he never had to do that

Silence falls for several minutes and I wish I was somewhere else, doing anything else but babysitting a slayer and her merry men

"So this whole group is made up of vampires?", Xander asks

"Yes"

"Did they know each other before?"

"Yes", I reply, "Hongjoong is the oldest of the group members. He's almost two thousand years old. The youngest is Jongho. He's only one hundred"

"How old are you?", Willow asks

"Five hundred and fifty six", I answer

"Your boyfriend is the second oldest?", Buffy asks angrily

What the fuck is she angry about?

She came here trying to take me out and she's mad I'm stronger than her?

"He's my husband", I snap, "And he's over fourteen hundred years old"

"Big age gap", she says snarkily

I glare at her, "Yeah. Nine hundred years. But when you love someone it doesn't matter how big the age difference is"

"Is his last name really Park?", Xander asks

Is he for real?

"Yes that's his real last name. His birth name is Seonghwa Park. He didn't change it. And my last name is Park too"

He was so happy when I changed my last name to his

"And the uh...others. They have wives?", Willow questions

Are they....trying to make small talk?

Oh god

I could be watching Seonghwa instead of babysitting them and waiting for an old man to wake up

So fucking annoying

"Yes. And yes, all except for three are vampires. Jongho's wife is the first vampire ever turned. She is ancient"

"And no one has taken her out yet?", Buffy says incredeously

"No. She is not evil. None of us are. We are not like the new world vampires. We have souls"

"So then why was your husband a psychotic killer for three hundred years?", Buffy snarls

I glare at her, "He didn't know what he was. Didn't know how to control it. And his sire was a bat shit crazy woman who taught him to kill like that"

"And you knew all this when you fell in love with him?", she spits

Oh please don't tell me this is some kind of righteous slayer mentality she has going on

Slayers can't be with vampires or whatever

"Not at first. He did tell me when we met he was a vampire"

"So you knew he was a vampire and still wanted him?"

I snort, "Yes. But I was careful. I got to know him first. He went to my father and courted me like all the other princes. He was a gentleman. He did eventually tell me how he was changed and what happened to him"

"And you still didn't stake him?"

"No", I snap, "I fell in love with him"

"He compelled you to love you", she retorts

"Slayers can't be compelled you idiot"

She looks surprised, "What?"

I laugh, "Did your watcher neglect to tell you like mine did? Slayers cannot be compelled. It's part of our abilities so we can fight them. We wouldn't be very good at our job if vampires could just tell us to stop fighting them, would we?"

She sits in shock

Guess watchers are all the same

"So no he didn't compel me. Loving him was all me"

"Uh we read about Seonghwa. How he terrorized Korea then just stopped", Willow tells me, "What happened to him?"

"He met Hongjoong. Hongjoong showed him how to live without killing. Seonghwa only kills when he has to. And never when feeding", I say glaring at Buffy

"Oh yeah? So how do you feed? It still hurts the victim", Buffy snarls

I snort, "No it doesn't. We compel them not to feel anything. When we're done we compel them to forget. We don't kill. Your new world vampires kill because they have no soul. They're evil. Not us. The only evil old world vampires are ones that were evil people"

"You still feed off humans"

God this slayer has a thick skull

"Sometimes. When our blood bags are depleted"

"Blood bags?", Xander questions

"Yes. Blood bags. Like from blood banks? We take some and used those to drink"

"Any vampire can do that?"

I nod, "Yes. Although new world vampires like killing"

I turn to Buffy

"We are not a threat and there is no reason for you to try to come here and kill us. Go kill your new world vampires"

Silence falls between us for a few minutes

Willow is the one to break it, "So if the other uh wives aren't vampires what are they?"

I sigh

She's very nosey

"Wooyoung's wife is staying human. Yunho's is a witch whose life is linked to his, so she's immortal like him. And Hongjoong's fiancee is going to change into a vampire on their wedding night"

"She's going to what?", Buffy yells, "She's giving up her humanity for him?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?", I snap, "They love each other"

"Like you loved Seonghwa enough to change for him?"

I knew her issue had something to do with me being a slayer and now a vampire

"Is that a problem for you?", I repeat

"Yeah it is! You were a slayer! Our job is to kill vampires, not change into one"

"Why? Why does my life have to be cut short when I was in love and wanted to be with him?", I throw at her, "I was already dying. My watcher shot a silver stake in my chest. I had nothing to lose. I wanted to be with him, so I asked him to change me."

"You should have died as a human"

I can't count how many times I've heard that before

There was no reason for me to die for good

"I was never going to die as a human!", I shout, "I was always going to change. I love him more than words can express. I was a slayer who killed vampires while being with one. I could still do the same thing as a vampire. And I did"

"You were going to change regardless?", she shrieks

"I made the decision to change when I was twenty three, like him. That's what I was planning without telling him. I was never going to leave him"

"But why would you do that? It's against everything we were taught!"

Right, like we have to follow all the rules

Some rules are meant to be broken

Especially dumb rules made by old men who don't know anything about being a slayer

"Because I loved him! What don't you understand? I love him. I can't even think of being without him without crying. He's my everything. He's my soulmate. So what if he's a vampire? I'd do anything for him. And he loves me the same way. He'd do anything for me. Why is that wrong?"

"Because you don't belong together! You should have staked him when he told you what he was"

She is such a hypocrite

"Is that what you really believe? That vampires and slayers cannot be together?"

"Yes", she snarls

"Then why didn't you stake Angel when you found out he was a vampire?", I shoot back

She stares at me in a look of utter shock

"You didn't stake Angel then and you didn't when he turned back to Angelus, killed your teacher, another slayer and terrorized your friends? You wanted his soul back"

"I killed him"

"Because he tried to destroy the world. Seonghwa didn't. All Seonghwa did was love me. And you were with Angel when he came back from hell. Why is it alright for you to fall in love with a vampire but it's not for me?"

"She's got a point Buff", Xander says

She looks at him incredeously before turning back to me

"Angel and I are not together"

"That's my fault how?", I answer

"Slayers and vampires can't be together"

"Then it's a good thing I'm a vampire", I snort

"You shouldn't have changed!"

"Why? Because I chose love over some stupid duty men threw on us thousands of years ago? Because I wanted to be happy and be with someone I love?", I argue, "It's not my fault you chose to be a slayer over being with someone you love"

Buffy stands up, her face red, "I can't choose to be a vampire"

I stand up too, getting angry, "You can. You just won't. And you're angry at me for doing what you want to do. You're angry at me that I chose a different path, that I'm happy and I have someone I love. You're angry because I chose Seonghwa and you won't choose Angel!"

She comes running at me swinging her fist

I duck, then stand up, punching her across the face

She flies backwards landing on a table of water bottles, collapsing it

Xander and Willow stand up

"Sit down and keep quiet", I say to each, compelling them

To Willow I add, "No magic"

Then I walk to Buffy as she struggles to get up

Getting to her, I grab her by the throat and slam her on a wall

"I'm getting fucking tired of you. I should just kill you and them. A new slayer will be called anyway, after the murderer slayer in prison dies."

"I'm going to kill you", she rages, trying to pry my fingers off her neck

"No you're not"

I'm debating on whether I should choke her slowly, snap her neck or drain her of blood, when I feel him next to me

"Don't jagi", he says softly and I don't know what to do now

She's still a threat to us

She won't back down until she kills us

"Let me handle it", he says

I hesitate but then nod, letting go of Buffy's neck

@mingtina

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Whumpee new Whumper 8 - Robbery

This series is all drafted and will be updated every wednesday.

Previous | Next

Masterlist

CW: betrayal mention.

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“You know… you don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Liam said, he had brewed tea and they both were sitting on the floor —there used to have a carpet but May had bled on it—, leaning on the couch.

“I want to. I just… I need to tell someone,” May said, tapping the cup with his fingers, “They, I mean, some… friends I used to have, they… well, I wanted some money to book a motel —I don’t have a house and I didn’t want to bother them—, and they needed help, ‘someone strong’ they said, you know,” he is stuffed his chest for a second to show his size, “I didn’t know the reason, but… they said I didn’t need to know, and told me that if I trusted them I shouldn’t make questions… they got really offended.”

He sipped his tea, “I am not good at making friends, and I didn’t want to lost the few I had so I went with them, I didn’t question when they made me put on a mask, and placed me in this place I don’t know, I also didn’t question when they told me to hold this bag and left.”

Liam nodded to say he is still listening.

“When I was alone they called this phone they had borrowed to me, and said I should take out what was inside the bag, I did. It was a gun,” May took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, “I let it fall, and didn’t bother taking it back, I tried to ask them what in the hell this was about but they had hung up.”

“Then I tried to leave, but some people I didn’t know came after me, they didn’t care I wasn’t armed anymore, they shot anyway, I managed to run away and come back to the group somehow, they each had a bag full of stolen things.”

“You were a distraction,” Liam concluded.

May nodded, “Yeah, but even then I was… too naive to believe it, so I questioned them, and when they didn’t answer I snapped and yelled at them, saying I could have died, asking if they didn’t care. Looking back I shouldn’t have asked, I didn’t… I didn’t want to hear the answers. They said I was the one with the highest chance of surviving a shot, they said it as if… as if nothing, and I kept questioning, I kept screaming until everything went black… I hadn’t even thought of the possibility that they were working with someone else.”

“I woke up with a hit and… well it was… my friends were then and…”

“You don’t need to tell me.”

“I I want to. I… at first it was some twisted way of punishment, my friends said I… I deserve that and I… for a while I belived, they… they laughed at that a lot at this and… and I just wanted to believe them… but they they hurt me, it wasn’t punishment anymore I was just… an entrainment in their fucked up party. But, well, I’m strong so… I  somehow found a way to escape again, and they tried to get me back, if for fear I tell the police or if to keep playing with me I don’t know.”

“I… I’m sorry this happened to you,” Liam said, sipping his tea to hide that he doesn’t know what to say, “People don't always show their true color.”

“Maybe they showed and I was just too stupid to notice, it would making a lot of fucking sense with how stupid I am.”

“It’s not you fault,” Liam said firmly, “They were the ones that took advantage on you.”

“I helped them in whatever crime they were up to.”

“Because you didn’t know what they were doing!” Liam said firmly, “Listen, you were a victim as much as —or even more than— the ones who had their thing stolen! What they did to you was wrong, and you are not at fault for trusting your friends.”

May looked down at his tea, recalling the laughing and mean words, “I truly… want you to be right,” but maybe I’m being too trusting again.

=-=

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