#she survived and fought for her family and deserved SO MUCH BETTER

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Being their older sibling would include | HC's

Includes: Charlie, Angel Dust, Alastor

Warnings: super supportive sibling energy, Valentino, murder/accessory to murder, implied abuse in Alastor's part (mentions of his father)

Let me know if anyone would want a part two and what characters — I didn't know who else to do

Charlie

Being the one who is more involved with Hell's politics and inner workings — especially after Lilith vanished without a word, essentially making you the public face of the Morningstar family.

Being the one to support Charlie's dream, regardless of what everyone else thought.

Being the protective, untrusting, and sometimes overbearing/overprotective one — but only because you love Charlie and don't want anyone to take advantage of her kindness and naivete more than they already have.

Being the one to put your foot down when your father waltzed in, talking about how sinners were all horrible and undeserving of redemption. Some were undeserving. . . But others were just human souls who needed a little guidance — a little motivation. Proof things could get better.

Being the one she went to for any problem that she knew Vaggie couldn't help with.

Being the one to make her laugh the most when she was feeling down.

Being the one she takes to Heaven with her (along with Vaggie).

Being the one that Heaven's didn't want to piss off — you were every bit your parents and more. That scared them.

Being the voice of reason when it came to fighting back.

Being the one to stand with your little sister, shoulder to shoulder as you fought alongside her to help preserve a dream that she worked so hard for.

Being the one to pick up all the pieces that your father, Vaggie, and the residents couldn't.

Being the one to play dress up with her and have tea parties when she was little.

Being the one to teach her how to dance.

Being the one to sing her back to sleep during a particularly bad storm when she was much younger.

Being the one that boyfriends and girlfriends sought to appease.

Angel Dust

Being the oldest out of all the children and the only one to survive long enough to see the age of forty.

Being the one who mourned him the most.

Being the one to take care of minor injuries when he was a careless kid.

Being the only one to give him a choice.

Being the one to kill your father twice, for all the horrible things he put you and your younger siblings through.

Being the only family member to keep in contact once you made it to Hell.

Being the one who hated Valentino the most. You saw him and just knew he was no good. You had no idea what your baby brother saw in him.

Being the one who urged him to take up the offer Charlie gave him. He deserved so much more than what his life and afterlife gave him.

Being the one to go with him, just to make the moving transition easier.

Being the fiercely protective one — you'd be double damned if anyone thought they'd hurt your brother and get away with it.

Being the one to comfort him after a long day. He claimed he didn't need it, but the way he always melted in your arms said otherwise. He was Anthony with you, not Angel Dust.

Being the one who sent untraceable, anonymous death threats to Valentino that exploded in his face with glitter bombs when he opened them.

Being the first one to notice the positive change in your baby brother and knowing it had something to do with that grumpy bartender that he drunkenly went on about one night.

Being the one to stand by his side. Always.

Alastor

Being the most sane sibling (not by much), but least forgiving.

Being the one to protect him from your father the best you could.

Being the one to tell him stories that your maman told you as a child — ranging all the way from fantasy and myths, all the way to true tales that had been passed down from generation to generation.

Being the one to dispose of your father's body when Alastor finally snapped and killed him. You didn't know what you were doing, but you worked quickly in hopes that the mess would be gone before your maman woke up. It was. . . But it began a cycle.

Being the one to take over household chores after the mysterious disappearance of your father, which meant you were the one to clean the bloodstains out of Alastor's clothes.

Being the one to convince him to take it down a notch — you didn't mind him taking out his father's sleazy friends, but at the rate he was going, he was going to get caught, and you only had so much time on your hands to hide evidence and remove those hard stains.

Being the first to die of an unknown sickness, not even a decade after your maman died of old age.

Being the one to greet Alastor in Hell.

Being the one to rise to power beside him — just two siblings who thrived on the screams of those who had done far worse things than kill a dozen or so people and hide the bodies.

Being the only one aside from your mother that could keep him in check.

Being the only other one he'd hate to disappoint. He was insane, yes, but if you were mad at your brother for anything serious, his smiling facade cracked.

Being the one to look for him after the battle and find him in a state of disarray that reminded you all too much of the childhood you endured for eight years before his birth.

Being the one to bring him back from the edge. Some days you reminded him too much of your mother, but other days it was comforting to hear a voice similar to hers.

Being the one to know who has his soul, but being sworn to secrecy. . . Not that you'd tell anyone anyway. It wasn't your business to tell.

[artiststarme]

Sometimes Sorry Isn't Enough

Sometimes Steve wondered how he was still alive. What made him more deserving of life than Barb? He kept putting his life on the line and yet he scraped by with only scars as evidence. He’d fought the demodogs and the mindflayer. He’d thrown Molotov cocktails at Vecna/Henry/One’s face. He’d been prepared to die every single time. So why was he still here?

He wished he’d chosen to jump off the quarry’s cliff when he found out that his parents had left him behind for good. Wished that he hadn’t been too quick for the demodogs to catch in the junkyard. He wished that he’d taken Max’s place in the face of Vecna’s curse. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be around anymore.

He loved his friends, loved Robin and Eddie in particular, but it wasn’t enough. Robin had better things to do than deal with his trauma that he’d roped her into without her consent. If it weren’t for him being so desperate and needy for attention, she would never have been involved with the Upside Down. She wouldn’t have been psychologically tortured by the Russians or exposed to the Hell that existed beneath them. She’d be better off without him.

And Eddie. Poor Eddie didn’t deserve any of this either. He was simply the town’s scapegoat that was at the wrong place at the wrong time and now his life was forever changed because of it. His body was marred in scars where the bats mauled him, eerily similar to the ones that existed in Steve’s flesh. Steve should’ve done more to protect him instead of forcing him to play decoy and then his friend afterwards.

Instead of forcing his problems on the Party once again, Steve stewed by himself in his empty crypt of a home. The house was dark, the air was cold, and his heart was heavy. He poured pain pills, originally prescribed to deal with his horrific migraines, into his hands and took a deep breath. Unlike all those other times, he wouldn’t escape death again. As he swallowed pill after pill, his heart sank deeper. It was better this way.

He was unconscious by the time Robin arrived, a feeling of proud terror driving her away from her family dinner and to Steve’s side. He was unconscious when Eddie gave him CPR and mouth to mouth, imagining their first kiss would be much different than it actually was. He was on the verge of life and death by the time Hopper speedily pulled into his driveway and threw him in the ranger before the ambulance could even arrive to take him to the hospital, begging him the entire way to open his eyes.

When he woke up to hospital smells and bright lights, he initially felt disappointed. He’d failed once again to leave the wretched world that never seemed to want him. But when he looked around, he felt a spark of hope in his chest. Hopper, Eleven, Robin, Eddie, and Dustin were in various chairs and cots scattered throughout the room. Eddie was curled into a ball by his feet on the bed while Robin was pressed against his side, her head on his chest as if she was waiting subconsciously to hear each beat of his heart. Hopper was sat in a chair by his bedside, his fingers loosely gripping the bed frame. Eleven was on the window’s ledge, her brow furrowed like the world was on her shoulders still. And Dustin. He was on a cot right beside Steve’s bed, his body facing him and his hand wrapped around his wrist.

Steve felt guilt flood him. He always felt like he was surviving on luck alone, deserving to die and never quite doing so. He didn’t realize that he was surviving off the love of his friends, his family, and that they were doing the same. It would take awhile to change his way of thinking and for him to start appreciating the life he had but he would get there eventually. Especially with his best friend, his boyfriend, his little brother and sister, and Hopper by his side.

[izziessogay]

I really didn't like how arcane ended and I wasn't going to speak on it, but I have to get it out.

personally I relate to Vi, not only as a butch lesbian, but also as an older sister and as someone who is easily taken advantage of at the promise of comfort.

jinx's death shattered me, and trust me I am familiar with tragic character deaths, this is different. she stood for something. she stood for traumatized and mentally ill people, for survivors of abuse, people with bpd and so on, she was flawed throughout the show but she was not villified (imo). they showed her experience as a real human experience that deserves compassion. killing her reinforced the belief that suicide makes suicidal people happy, it doesn't. death isn't happy, nobody was relieved by this sacrifice, and you would know that if you have ever been in a place like that, known someone or even lost someone, because of this shit. my wife deeply related to jinx, the trauma she had, the things she was battling and all that still not making her irredeemably evil. this character is supposed to show that you can struggle and be alone and miserable and that you can get better despite that, that you deserve to get another go at life, no matter your flaws. arcane did that, up until the last act. my only sister is a teenager, who every day battles with things she gets minimal support for, I live far away and often feel helpless. jinx both represents my wife and my sister to me, the people I love most in this world. her ending feels like a huge fuck you, 'haha, you thought there was hope? actually struggling teens should just kill themselves semi heroically, because we don't want to deal with their antics'. even if they are hinting at her surviving none of this changes, they killed her socially still, when she was meant to be with her community, to build herself up again, to find her family (other people have said more eloquent things about all of this, check them out).

I have more issues with the finale, but over all I think that all the story lines needed more time.

I didn't quite get what happened with Mel and what the black rose even was, but I didn't care much about her character, so maybe I missed some things, I think she turned out the best in the end.

Ekko seemed to only have one purpose, which was to save. other than that he didn't get much character development. people are praising him for being the best, but I fear that might be because he's awfully underwritten and doesn't have much about him, other than him saving the main characters. Even his alternate universe escapade didn't give us an insight on him, more on Powder. His power wasn't explained well, especially when he broke the four second mark without any consequences it seems. in general I can't pick out many flaws, which indicates a poorly written character.

I didn't mind astrally insane Victor to be the enemy of all, however Jayce's and his story took up too much of the final act for me. they didn't seem that relevant to me to be the turning axis of everything and as someone who doesn't care much about their ship I didn't get much out of that arc. it felt out of character for a show that had been about systemic oppression and family feuds and classism to have a conclusion of "imperfection is actually beautiful". that seemed redundant, all characters in the show have flaws and redeeming qualities, even someone like silco or ambessa. everybody who likes the show knows "imperfection is beautiful", it didn't feel like a satisfying conclusion for the viewer, even if victor might have had to hear it. ON TOP OF THAT we never actually got explained anything regarding Victor and his descent to evil and how the fuck that happened.

In the end nothing seemed like it had changed, Piltover is still oppressive, the only reason why they work with Zaun now is because they fought a common enemy once. Sevika (my beloved) gets looked down on in the council and as the only Undercity-member it's impossible for her to overturn a vote in Zauns favour. Cait is still a cop, not having changed anything about herself, Vi has nobody besides her, no family. Mel seems unhappy, Ekko is definitely unhappy and in a worse spot than before. I frankly don't care what happened to Jayce and Viktor, but their ending is the only one that would keep me on my toes for more. Which brings me to a hot take, possibly: I think we might have been queerbaited, hear me out. We got lesbians (which I am eternally grateful for), but thes were a thing since early season 1, after season one people started talking about Jayvik, which wasn't supposed to happen originally, but since it brought engagement they made their relationship a bigger part of the story. Possibly also the reason why Vi and Caits relationship seemed rather rushed and inorganic at the end. you can disagree with me on this.

Lastly I have to talk about Vi, a character that I couldn't relate to for most of season two, because it's been a while since I had to deal with situationships and breakups. All that made me overlook what Vi really stands for. She might seem hard and tough, but mostly she is looking for comfort, she loses people close to her constantly and is therefore constantly in search of another safe space. A safe space that is never really provided. Cait doesn't understand her trauma, her upbringing, her culture or her family, and she never bothers to understand it. She never shows remorse to what she did in the undercity, she never questions Piltover (only ambessa, an outsider). She never sees Jinx as someone who deserves redemption, she never sees why Vi is struggling, she never makes an effort to care about her past and her experiences. You might wonder why Vi still is with her, but it's honestly obvious enough, it's because she doesn't have anyone else left. Cait at least loves her for her personality or her looks or whatever, and that's more than anybody else loves her. I hated that they put her back with Cait in Piltover, it seems very abusive to me, considering what we know of Cait (she might be different now, but we never get to see any of that, so I'm assuming freely). Vi will take anything and everything to make herself get some comfort, however toxic that behaviour may be. I see that as the reason why she folds so easily whenever Cait shows interest and forgives immediately. She didn't find well deserved peace in the end with Jinx (and Cait), she got "good enough for now". Nothing was addressed, nothing changed. AND JUST TO CLARIFY I AM HAPPY ABOUT THE LESBIAN REPRESENTATION AND I AM VERY GLAD WE GOT IT, OVERALL I THINK THEIR RELATIONSHIP WAS VERY INTERESTING TO WATCH. JUST LIKE THE REST OF THE SHOW I DIDN'T LIKE THE END.

For a show that was about the people, we got horrifyingly little people focused resolutions. The last burial we see was Rictus, but dozens of people die after him. We didn't talk about Isha, we didn't talk about Jinx, Ekko wasnt even allowed to get a word in after he deus ex machina saved everything. Sevika didn't get any conclusion. Mel seems on the same path as her mother. Jayce and Viktor are to my knowledge still astral projecting through space. Cait never learned compassion with Zaunites. Vander couldn't be saved. An unsatisfying end.

Tldr:

- Jinx's death was bad, mentally ill people should be saved and their illness shouldn't be glorified over them

- none of the story lines seem finished and rushed to an end

- Viktor and Jayce's story felt overpowering and took away from a story about oppression and sisterhood

- in the end nothing changed

- my butch dyke/older sister heart that can be manipulated quite easily too hurts for Vi

- I didn't like it 🍅🍅🍅

[sukibenders]

I really enjoy Yellowjackets but the way it throws its poc characters to the side, the way the fandom does is so unsurprising but saddening at the same time. Shauna is one of my favorite characters, she's cool and stuff but, being honest, the trope of housewife having an affair because she's bored of her current life has been played before. So what if this one had certain elements outside of it, it's still common so it kind of grew tiring to see Yellowjackets constantly shove this plot at me when Tai's storyline is right there.

Taissa, a biracial woman who, even after living through something horrific as a kid, "bounced back" and lived the life she always wanted. She was a lawyer, now ran for and won a position in office, married a beautiful and smart woman and had a son, has a whole perfect family who she loves. Only for the trauma, the aspect of her life she promised herself and others to never talk about, is now coming back and in the process causes her to do things she doesn't want to do. The plot that could have come from Taissa alone is out of this world. You mean to tell me that a biracial lesbain running for office wouldn't be more entertaining than Shauna's storyline? Why couldn't Tai be the main focus?

And I don't even want to get into the fandom, but I have too. Listen, I like TaiVan for all that they are. They helped each other survive during a time where they thought it would be impossible. But what annoys me and, sadly, almost pushed me away from this ship, was how the writers and fans treat Simone and Sammy. Like the shows only way to have Tai together with Van was to put her wife in a coma and abandoned her son? That really does not sound like Tai, who fought to get her old life. And very insidious how some fans make certain jokes that just reek of "Let's push away the black characters to make room for the yte ones", because I've seen people call Simone the villain, to other things, just because she told Tai to get help all while framing Van as the better option. I've seen people in the fan call Sammy unnatural or even a demon just because he exists in a way that is not natural, by that I mean acting out and expressing coping mannerisms because he saw a version of his mother who terrified him but can't express, but I forgot because he's a little black boy who needs help people will ignore him or dehumanize him, because that's how this works right? The shows main, and only dark-skinned black characters were quickly pushed aside by the plot for what?

And I have a feeling the show may make us watch Taissa go through great lengths to keep Van alive (even though I do want Van to live), but won't extend the same want to Simone, which will read badly with the undertones in so many ways.

And the fandom treats Tai poorly as well (don't even get me started on some pretending to care about her family just to hang it over her head and call her a deadbeat) and reaching some nearly very ableist thinking when talking about her. Taissa deserved so much better, from the show and the fandom, and I hope they do better in season three but I'm not so sure to be honest, because most of the scenes even having mentions of Tai's blackness were because of Jasmine, not the showrunners, who it would be fine if it were small things here and there but to add so many crucial parts to your character because others won't begins to become a pattern.

[albatmobile]

Cardinal Sins Chapter 9

𓅪 Living with your vigilante boyfriends for the past year has been amazing, well, almost. Butting heads, old wounds resurfacing and a deadly threat still looming overhead could threaten the sanctity of everything you've ever fought for. Will you finally overcome your tainted past and survive the trials and tribulations, or will your relationships and your faith crumble under the pressure?

Rated: M | 5.6k | Contains: court of owls meeting fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist] Previous in Series: Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds

Chapter Nine: Through Me (The Flood)

You thought, perhaps if Jason could get past what Bruce did to him in the garage, with him having forgiven Bruce in the past for far worse, that maybe you could try to forgive your parents. When you bring this up to your partners, however, you’re not met with the support you’d been expecting.

“You know you don’t have to make up with them, right?” Jason asks.

The three of you are currently cuddling in bed after having put a petulant Lian down for a nap. The poor little thing was so tired that she didn’t even realize just how tired she was until her head hit the pillow six pages into her new favorite book. 

“Yeah,” you shift to face him so now your back is flush against Roy’s chest with your front is pressed against Jason’s, “but, I mean, both of you guys have tried to make up with your parents.” You shrug. The ‘you always make up with Bruce’ doesn’t quite leave your lips, but you know both of them must be thinking it as well. “Maybe I should try to do the same.”

It’s quiet. Neither of them had expected this when you led them to the bedroom mere moments prior, but you can’t deny that it’s been weighing heavily on your chest. Especially after that luncheon yesterday. 

“Some people don’t deserve forgiveness,” Roy replies cautiously. His soft hands trace up and down your arms, as he and Jason have a silent conversation through their eyes alone. Though you could easily follow along with the nonverbal conversation, you’re far too tired. Yesterday had drained everything out of you.

“And what if one day that applies to you? You wouldn’t want anyone to try to forgive, anyway?” you ask before you can think better of it. “Bruce said there’s no redemption with certain people. I get that, but there’s no redemption if you never try.”

“But you have tried,” Jason says.

“It was the heat of the moment!” you exclaim, trying to reason against the words that have been streaming through your head for the past few days. “Now that everything has calmed down, it could be different,” you trail off, sounding unconvincing to even yourself. 

“At the end of the day, you’re the only one who truly knows them, so you know what's best,” Roy says. It seems like he’s said this before because Jason’s eyes flash with familiarity. “Just don’t forget you have other family.”

You sigh, taking in his words, “Yeah, I have you guys and I love that, but-"

Before you can finish, Jason cuts you off. “Bruce considers you one of his own. Has for a while, too,” he admits with a slight grumble. The grumble isn’t from anger, you know that the entire subject makes him uncomfortable and you know it must’ve been hard for him to tell you. Regardless of what Bruce said in the Batcave about you being one of them, Jason’s words make it all seem real. 

“How do you know?” you ask. You don’t want to push the subject too much and risk upsetting Jason, especially after what happened in the garage, but you need to know. 

Jason clears his throat and quickly focuses on anything but you and Roy, “Told us while you were…” He can’t even bring himself to say the word. “While you were gone.”

“Oh,” you reply dumbly. 

You don’t know what to do with this information, all things considered. You’ve finally, officially, been included in the Bat Family, but at what cost? You still don’t even know how Jason can face Bruce after the blatant disrespect Bruce showed him in the garage. It’s a double-edged sword. Acceptance at the price of everything secure you’ve known shifting into something that makes you feel like maybe you’ve never known Bruce. The answer only makes you question everything even more than before.

“Yeah,” Jason trails off awkwardly. Meanwhile, Roy watches the entire interaction with an unreadable look on his face as if he’s mentally preparing himself for an argument to come, but it doesn’t. 

You briefly mention having to stuff down the panic you felt and how overwhelming the whole pool party was. They comfort you instantly and tell you how strong you are, though you still find yourself doubting their words. A problem for later, you suppose, as something else has been tainting your thoughts, realizing Jason was in the same boat as you yesterday.

“What happened in the garage,” you start, but Jason’s stark, emerald eyes shooting upward toward you stop you in your tracks. Regardless of his intimidating nature, you continue with what’s been on your mind ever since, “That should never have happened. I’m sorry.”

It’s quiet for so long that you end up looking over at Roy for reassurance, however the redhead’s very much focused on Jason’s growing reaction. You turn back to him, watching as his eyes grow distant and his brows furrow. 

You open your mouth to speak again, letting him know he doesn’t have to talk about anything he’s not comfortable with. After all, his relationship with Bruce has always been seemingly just between the two of them. 

“Bruce has always treated me like his personal punching bag,” Jason says in a rush, as if he hadn’t been planning on speaking at all. When he realizes his words have slipped, he swallows audibly before continuing, “He always said that, “I could handle it” or some shit probably because of what he knows I’ve done on the streets. I knew what it really was, though. How he acts toward me is all about sending a message to the other Bats about what would happen if they ever stepped out of line. You know, if they ever became like me,” Jason continues gruffly. “Dick is his partner, Tim is his right-hand man, Damian, his son. Me? Well,” he pauses, finally looking at you as he does so, “I’m his greatest failure.”

“Jason,” you breathe, taking his hands into your own. He refuses slightly at first, then allows the contact. 

“I know I always warned you about him in the past because I didn’t want you to get hurt like me,” Jason admits. “That doesn’t mean I wanted you to find out like this, though.” Jason stares down at your conjoined hands. You think he’s finished until he speaks again, looking you directly in the eyes as he does. The intensity behind his emerald eyes stun you into silence as you take in his next words earnestly. “People like you and me? We don’t owe a man like that shit. You hear me? We don’t need him.” He squeezes your hands gently to cement his point further. “And you know what? We’ll never need him because we have each other. We both came from nothing, but we made our own family,” he pauses as if gauging your reaction before continuing, “and we didn’t rely on some fucked up code of honor to decide who matched the definition and who didn’t. That’s the difference.”

Whatever title you’ve bestowed upon him in your mind, regardless of the doubt and contingencies he’s thrown your way, you should have no doubt that your real family is right here with you,” Jason gestures to Roy, “you don’t need bruce to fill some fucked quota.” 

It’s becoming clear that he’s saying this for himself as much as it is for you. He’s in too deep and you’ve barely scratched the surface, it seems. Though, his words only serve to make you more confused. Why does he continue to forgive Bruce? Why do they keep doing the same song and dance when the outcome is always the same- always catastrophic and unforgivable?

If you thought you finally figured out the definition of family before, you definitely don’t know it now.

The actual answer, of course, is simple. Jason wants love and acceptance, whereas Bruce wants obedience and loyalty. He wants a soldier when all Jason’s ever been looking for, all you’ve ever been looking for, is a father. Though you know he’s not perfect, he’s all the two of you have known. It’s hard to escape this fact, let alone the struggle that comes with it. You know Jason sticks around because he still secretly hopes that Bruce’s promises will come true, that there won’t be the hot and cold and a lesson learned, then repeat. After all, it’s the only somewhat stable structure Jason’s ever known. No matter how much Jason wants to, how can he just turn away from it? How can you? There’s no easy answer and there’s definitely no right answer in a fucked up situation like this.

When he doesn’t say anything about the topic further, you and Roy drop the topic, electing to spend the rest of the day cuddling in bed.

•••

Regardless of their kind words surrounding your parents, part of you can’t deny that you still want to at least try with them. 

The next day, you find yourself at the very prison you helped lock them away in. Whether it’s because of this or because you were never close with them, they reject your visit request, and you’re turned away.

So much for forgiveness.

•••

Preparation for the elusive Court of Owls meeting has been as thorough as it can be when you only have a week to prepare for it. This includes scouting out the area ahead of time, making sure the punk from Stacked Deck hasn’t opened his mouth and, personally, your favorite part, the disguises.

The last time you’d dressed up for an event this stuck-up had been for the Wayne Gala and, well, everyone knows how that went. Tonight, you’re definitely more prepared than you’d been back when you were 15. You slip into your slinky, black, floor-length dress (X) with ease and shove the owl masks that Roy had 3D printed into your purse. You’re each donning comms; yours in the form of your earrings and them in the form of their cuff links. Aside from this, you’re completely on your own. Both Bruce and Damian refused to be a part of what they'd dubbed a “suicide mission.” 

The three of you arrive at exactly 11 PM at a warehouse eerily close to the one Jason and Roy had been poisoned in three days prior. If anything, it only secures that the information you got is correct.

Walking across the desolate parking lot, your group encounters a door where a group of three well-dressed Gothamites stand outside. A peephole in the door slides open to reveal a man in an owl mask, who the group seems to talk with before being allowed inside.

“Did the dude mention anything about a code word?” Roy asks, sounding slightly nervous as you get nearer to the door. He puts on his glasses, which he’s specially crafted to map out their headquarters to give you a better idea of where the emitter might be stored.

You can’t help but smirk at his anxiousness. “All good.” You watch as Roy breathes out a sigh of relief, then quickly seems to grow anxious again once you hand Jason and him their masks. Wordlessly, the three of you don them with silent well-wishes for the mission.

It should be in and out. You know, get the information and get the fuck out type of situation. You know you can handle it, but you can’t help but carry the weight of both Damian and Bruce’s reluctance when it comes to the crowd you’ll be attempting to blend into tonight.

“We’re set?” Jason asks as he fiddles with his cuff links. Is he nervous, too? 

You gulp. Maybe this wouldn’t be as easy as you’d previously thought…

When you reach the door, you follow what the previous group had done and lean in to give the code word the informant at The Stacked Deck had supplied you with. As you go to tell the man, it dawns on you that the informant could’ve easily supplied you with a word that could end up being a trap, but decide to say it anyway.

“Repentance,” you say in a manner you hope comes off as cool and collected. Inside, your heart is pounding so hard against your ribcage that you can feel it along your subconsciously clenched jaw. Your hands make to wring themselves, but you stop them just in time.

The man’s face is unreadable through the peephole and his mask, leaving you bracing for whatever happens next. Instead of being swarmed by Court Assassins like you’d been fearing, the heavy door abruptly groans as it’s pushed open to allow your group inside. You give a brief nod the man’s way before stepping directly into the den of the enemy. 

To be less conspicuous, your group dissolves as soon as you step through the threshold as the three of you split up to find clues. 

Your heart is still pounding as you will yourself not to release the exhale that’s been wedged in your throat ever since you got here. A masked man with a tray of champagne approaches you and you delicately take a glass, hoping this simple action hasn’t blown your cover. The waiter moves on swiftly, once again relinquishing your worries.

Alone and completely surrounded by the enemy, both Damian and Bruce’s words trill on repeat through your head. To rid your brain of these thoughts, you begin flit about and try to fit in with the most influential people in Gotham. 

A few people stop by here and there, mainly just small talk, nothing you can’t handle. All the while, you watch as the room steadily fills until the entire stone church-like building is packed to the brim with formal wear and owl masks. Seeking relief from the growing crowd, you slip off to the nearest room to you on the left. Inside the quaint study, a fire is lit and casts a cozy glow against the ornate furniture adorning the room. 

Though there are people in the room with you, most seem content to smoke and play their card game as you stare down the oddly dancing flames. The thought causes you to quirk your head. Upon closer inspection, the flames don’t even appear to be coming out from the logs but rather spring up from a glass-like substance underneath the logs.

Odd.

What’s even odder is the barely noticeable uniform crack that runs along the back of the outter right corner of the fireplace. You try to inconspicuously get closer to test out your theory that this is a false door when a commanding voice enters the room followed by a gaggle of followers.

Everyone’s in much of the same black-and-white, formal attire with the same basic, white owl masks, but not this man. No, the man at the center of the group is adorned in head-to-toe black, with his black mask blending seamlessly into his comic-book-looking suit. Strapped to his back are two large swords and his hands are covered by black, clawed gloves. Whoever this man is, he seems important. Was this Grandmaster?

“How are we to allow this nonsense?” one of the men asks angrily.

“Surely you see our side,” another adds in a rushed whisper.

“You’re right. I don’t see the logic behind putting trust in a madman to lead,” the man replies conversationally, though his volume is low enough that you can only barely pick up on it. “This… direction Grandmaster has us heading in,” he trails off as if pensively, though it appears he already very much knows what he’s going to say next, “it’s too largely focused on vengeance rather than our namesake. This pettiness is not what the old Court was about.” When he’s met with murmurs of agreement from his owl posse, he continues, “I know we’re meant to fuck over the clown in the end, but what’s to be said of the person who put him in charge in the first place?” 

Apparently, while in your daze of eavesdropping, the previous inhabitants of the room fled, leaving you to stick out like a sore thumb to the newcomers. 

Play it cool, play it cool.

The rest of the men crowding the black-masked man continue to squabble in hushed tones, but the man’s attention now solely focuses on you. 

Play it fucking cool.

“And what of you? What do you think?” he asks suddenly.

He has no idea who you are. There’s no fucking way he knows.

Breathe. Check. Breathe again. Check. Swallow around the lump in your throat? You choke. You politely excuse your coughing, looking up to see everyone’s eyes, well, masks, on you. You channel your mother’s pompous behavior as you straighten, fixing yourself briefly as you gracefully stride closer to the parliament. 

“We are amongst friends, aren’t we?” you reply in lieu of an actual response. You’re buying time and you hope they can’t see it.

“That we are,” the man in black replies. Though the other men’s faces are covered, they clearly seem confused, if not irritated, that their friend has even bothered to ask you.

“I think that we should keep it that way.” You fear your response is lackluster, if not completely irrelevant to his actual question, considering you don’t know the plan, but he simply nods as he comes over to clap you firmly on the shoulder. He makes to speak, but before he can respond, a man shuffles in to announce the beginning of the meeting.

You shoot the fireplace one last glance before joining the masses. Part of you subconsciously looks for Jason and Roy, though your attention is quickly drawn to the balcony of the ballroom you’d originally entered. Here, you come face-to-face with Grandmaster, the leader of The Court of Owls.

Decked out in a hooded, black robe, the large man makes his way to the edge of the balcony. He looks over the completely filled room below as he grasps his gloved hands around the railing. Suddenly, from beside him, the man you’d spoken to in the other room joins to the right of Grandmaster. Just who was Grandmaster’s right-hand man?

Grandmaster is the only one to break the black-and-white tie theme with his creme colored suit, though, unlike the man beside him, Grandmaster’s mask is the same as everyone else in attendance. 

“Talon,” Grandmaster’s modulated voice speaks up against the low murmur from the crowd around you, “begin.”

The man beside him, Talon, steps to the side to present Grandmaster a lamb. You really don’t want to watch this sick shit, so you close your eyes, opening them only when Grandmaster offers a toast with a chalice dripping in fresh blood. 

“For our vision,” Talon says.

You have to hide your startled reaction to the waiter who suddenly appears beside you to hand you a glass also filled with a red liquid. Oh, you’re going to absolutely puke. There’s no fucking way you’re drinking…

A subtle sniff, however, proves this to be wine. Thank fuck.

So, this was the man Damian had warned you about. The man who’d manipulated him.

“For our vision!” Grandmaster exclaims, pushing his chalice into the air, signaling those around you to do the same. You follow in suit, raising your glass as you try your best not to look at the people around you. You need to stay in character and, after all, looking confused isn’t part of that.   

“Our vision!” the crowd chants in unison. 

“Now, I’m sure you’ve all heard rumblings of what’s to come. I’m sure many of you have questions about our plan and I know we’ve left you in the dark on our newest partners, but I want to reassure you of The Court’s mission. We are here for the betterment of our city. We are Gotham,” Grandmaster finishes, allowing time for murmurs of agreement. “This entire plan is about getting back what we are owed. This is about repentance, no matter the cost. This being said, our society is not lost. We are not straying from the mission of our founders, no,” his modulated voice rings out, “Though we’re not straying, we are welcoming a new era of The Court. The kind of Court that no longer hides in the shadows but one that makes sure the people of Gotham know who controls them. It’s because of this era that we’ll finally, permanently,remove the blights in this great city for its betterment and it's all thanks to you,” Grandmaster finishes, gesturing with wide arms to the crowd below. 

This has been a long time coming,” Grandmaster continues. If the speech is anything to go by, it’s clear that in the months following the break-in at Wayne Enterprise, The Court has been working hard to get whatever this plan is into motion. “The Court of Owls would be nothing without our generous benefactors. I’m sure by now you’ve heard rumors of newcomers and I want to use this as an opportunity to put you all at ease. It’s true that this decision was not made lightly, but I assure you that these Gothamites share our same vision. Truly, we’d be nothing without their invaluable help. While these contributors are not full members of The Court yet, come our next meeting on April 1st, they’ll be fully inducted,” Grandmaster pauses briefly to allow for cheers. “Together, we’ll be unstoppable,” he states. “Come next month, everyone will know our name. We’ll no longer be a cautionary tale to children but a very real threat to all.” Once again, Grandmaster raises his chalice. “To us!” The crowd repeats his words, toasting their glasses into the air with you following right alongside them. “To our destiny!”

From here, Grandmaster finishes the liquid in his cup before quickly retreating back to where he’d emerged from, with Talon dutifully following behind Grandmaster’s black cape.

The crowd quickly dissipates as everyone wordlessly flows into what you assume is the dining room to be served dinner.

For the first time that night, your comms ring out with Jason’s voice telling Roy and you to reconvene at your meeting point two blocks away. Slipping out into the night air, you can’t help but feel like you’ve just gotten away with something massive and, upon thinking on it further, you suppose you have. After all, who else in the Bat Family can say they’ve gone undercover in The Court of Owls?

The building you’ve chosen as a makeshift base is a law office that you’d snuck into a few days prior in order to stash civies in a random filing drawer. Roy already has the building’s security feed on a loop, meaning the three of you are completely off the grid. 

You go to drop your dress to change, but Roy stops you. 

“You look good, princess,” he says with evident arousal. “Really good.”

You can’t help but laugh as he corrals you against the nearest desk, planting his hands on either side of your thighs to trap you. 

“We may not be in costume, but we’re still on a mission,” Jason replies sternly as he slips into the jeans and red hoodie you left for him.

“When has that ever stopped us?” Roy asks cheekily, referencing your earlier run-in with Poison Ivy’s pollen. His chapped lips brush against your neck now, as if begging Jason to say he really wants this to end.

“I said stand down,” Jason responds gruffly as he stops menacingly behind Roy, leaving the redhead to inadvertently straighten at the raven’s presence. You can’t help but bite at your lower lip as you watch Roy and Jason take each other in before, finally, Roy gives in and steps away from you with a chaste kiss against your jaw, then lips. 

“Sorry, baby,” Roy manages through his wolfish smirk. “I got you later, though and that’s a promise.” He shoots a coy wink your way, leaving your cheeks to flush with heat.

With this, Jason throws Roy his sweats and muscle-tank along with a beat-up trucker hat Roy insists on wearing. Before the three of you can leave, Jason suddenly pulls Roy flush against his muscular chest and into a messy, teeth-clacking kiss that leaves Roy absolutely flustered.

“You good?” you tease the redhead with a nudge as the two of you trail behind Jason’s commanding form.

“Like you’re any better when it comes to him,” Roy snorts, though his blush remains as he returns the nudge. “Traitor.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” you say as you flick at his freckled nose, which he easily emulates. This continues until the two of you are roughhousing on the curb of one of Gotham’s most dangerous street corners.

Jason ignores the childish behavior behind him as he continues across the street to where he’s stashed his motorcycle. 

“Would you two hurry the fuck up?” Jason gripes, though the look he throws over his shoulder is filled with subtle mirth.

By the time you’re zipping back into the parking garage of your apartment, you’re ready to get this debrief over with so you can go the fuck to bed. You relieve Steph of her babysitter post, sending her off with a hug before the three of you settle on the sectional to rehash everything.

“So,” Roy trails off as he dramatically falls onto the couch, arms spread out along the top of it. You and Jason easily settle on either side of him. “Crazy mission, right?”

You snort, “For sure. I can’t tell you how many times I thought I was going to shit my panties.”

“Panties?” Roy waggles his fiery brows. “Nice.”

“Jesus,” Jason breathes. “Are we sure the two of you weren’t poisoned with pheromones?”

“I didn’t drink the Kool-Aid if that’s what you’re worried about, Jay,” Roy teases lightly. “The two of you just look really good in formalwear, can’t help that it makes me horny. ‘Specially not after we haven’t fucked in like a week.”

“Roy,” you say as you face him incredulously, “it was two days ago.”

He just huffs, “Practically a week at this point.” Much to Roy’s chagrin, he’s met with playful pushes from either side of him from Jason and you.

“Whatever, horn dog,” Jason replies flippantly. “I didn’t get shit on Grandmaster all night. He came straight out of his guarded chambers and went straight back into them as soon as he was done with the announcement.” Upon finishing, Jason looks expectantly towards Roy and you. 

“I managed to map out the place,” Roy says. The redhead pulls a Nintendo-Switch-looking device out of his sweats before tapping the screen in a few places to get the map to load on the small screen. “Managed to get the inside of Grandmaster’s chambers and everything. Only one small hiccup,” Jason and you sit up slightly at this, “there was one area that didn’t respond well to the program.”

“What does that mean?” Jason asks.

“Nothing bad,” Roy reassures him, “just an oddity in one of the rooms. It could mean anything from a faulty read to a hidden area.”

At this, you perk up. “Was this the room off to the left?” you ask, shifting to better see the screen.

“Mhm,” Roy murmurs, concurring. “You find something, baby?”

The nickname leaves your stomach flipping bashfully, a power you’re not sure how Roy still possesses after all these years.

“Yeah,” you say. “I was in that room right before the meeting was called. Right by the fireplace, right where your map cuts out,” you continue as you point to the blank area on the screen, “I swear I saw the outline of a secret door.”

“You didn’t check it out further?” Jason questions. You sigh, realizing you should’ve found a way to sneak in when everyone was preoccupied with Grandmaster Owl. Jason seems to realize your sigh means no and quickly adds, “It’s fine. It could’ve been a risky move and we all agreed to be covert with this.”

Your cheeks flush in response.

“So, a hidden door,” Roy trails off. “Could that be where they’re hiding the emitter?”

“Doesn’t sound too outlandish,” Jason concurs. 

“There’s something else,” you pipe up. “While I was in that room, I ran into Talon.” At this, both men wipe the emotions off their faces as if to appear unaffected by the fact that you were alone in a room alone with a man who's gotten the upper hand on Damian. How quickly they forget that you’ve also gotten the drop on Damian before. “Nothing happened,” you reassure them, “but I did overhear his conversation. You know how we’ve been debating whether or not Joker has anything to do with this?” you ask rhetorically, but they nod anyway. “Well, Talon referenced a madman leading-“

“That doesn’t mean it’s Joker,” Jason adds roughly, though you know it’s only because it’s about him.

“I know,” you huff. You’re not an amateur anymore. “I didn’t even connect the dots until he mentioned 'fucking over the clown.'" When you finish, the room is completely too quiet as they take in the information.

“When you said this wasn’t over…” Jason trails off darkly, breaking the silence.

You nod sullenly. 

“This is really good information, princess,” Roy says. The way his tone wavers lets you know that there’s a “but” coming. “But we can’t be sure they’re talking about him,” Roy insists. “The last thing we want to do is to assume that it’s him and then miss out on potential clues if it ends up being someone else entirely.”

You can’t help but deflate a bit. You really felt like your team had finally cracked part of this never ending puzzle, but no. 

Once again, Jason’s the one to break the silence. You think he’ll agree with Roy but surprises you when he spins it on the redhead.

“I’m pretty sure we can assume it’s Joker, Roy.”

Roy takes his words seriously, looking between the two of you before nodding. “Alright, Jay.”

“Regardless, we don’t know who Joker’s accomplice is,” you add to break up any remaining tension.

“They said the next meeting, 'the big one,'” Roy adds air quotes around his words, “takes place April 1st and I have a feeling it won’t just be a meeting. That only leaves us a week to get ready for whatever they have planned,” Roy finishes with worry spread evidently across his freckled cheeks.

“We’ll be ready for them,” Jason says. “We have no other choice.”

•••

After the fight at Stacked Deck and even strain from the pool party, your injuries are rearing their ugly head. To “alleviate” this, Roy and Jason offer to take up what they refer to as the “dirty work” so you can recover safely at home. Following your conversation in the car after The Stacked Deck, you can’t help but feel unheard. You’re perfectly capable of going out into the field, but neither of your loves are having it, especially after you’d confided in them about how much the pool incident had affected you. 

Regardless, all of this just means you get extra time with Lian. With time running out, you know that the more your crew can be in the streets looking for leads, the better, so you let them. This doesn’t mean, however, that you won’t give them shit for it later.

Lian’s requested scones for tomorrow, so you grab her matching little apron and get to work. She’s really become a help in the kitchen and you love that she loves cooking as much as you and her daddy do. Lian definitely has a knack at it and, the older she gets, the more she starts to outshine the adults in the kitchen, something that warms you inside and out.

Your parents had never cared about your hobbies, never did anything together as a family. To have your own family and be able to teach them your passions and have them care means everything to you.

You’re putting the scones in the oven when you hear Lian exclaim, “Mommy!”

You turn around quickly to see a dark figure moving about on the balcony. You waste no time in pushing Lian behind you as you finally piece together that the figure belongs to that of someone you’re entirely too familiar with. You continue to eye her up skeptically, but when she raises her hands in surrender you finally go out to meet the woman you haven’t seen since she tried to slice your neck a year ago.

The night air is cold, being winter and all, but you can’t help but find comfort in the silence that it brings. The brisk wind suddenly smacks at your hair, sending it cascading around you as you come face to face with Cheshire. Decked out in a hoodie and a baseball cap, you realize that, no, this is Jade.

“I didn’t expect to see you again,” you tell her honestly. “You know, I’m not trying to push you out of Lian’s life, right? You’re more than welcome to be around her,” you say before cheekily adding, “so long as you’re not trying to actively murder me and such.”

“It’s not like I purposefully try to stay out of my kid’s life.” She pauses, then continues, “I know I’ve never been a good mother and that I’m still not one now, but-"

“I never said that,” you interject.

The woman seems caught off guard for a moment, then impressed. You can’t help but think back to your complicated family ties that have followed you every step of the way ever since you stepped foot in the city. Now, you’re a parent to Lian and can only hope that you can be everything you’ve never had to the little girl.

“Then, what do you think?”

You can’t begin to imagine why a highly regarded assassin like herself would ever care to hear what someone like you thinks of her, so you can’t help but feel caught off guard as well. 

“With how I’m feeling about the whole thing right now?” You motion toward where Lian’s run off to draw something for her mom. “Sometimes I want to run, too.”

She looks at you, really looks at you. It’s as if it’s the first time she’s actually seeing you and not just you as an extension of Roy. “You don’t need to run; you’ve already been a…” she trails off. “I want to thank you for how you’ve taken care of Lian even when I-” 

“You really don’t need to thank me for that,” you interject quickly. “I love her and I always will.”

It’s barely noticeable, but you watch the way she swallows around a lump in her throat. 

“But you’re nervous.” 

You nod. “But I’m nervous,” you reply. Your eyes flick away from hers in your moment of vulnerability. “I don’t want to fuck up their lives.”

“Their? As in Jason and Roy?” With this, she nudges you in the stomach. Though it could’ve been softer, the nudge definitely wasn’t her using anywhere near the amount of power she’d used a year ago on you. “Two for one deal,” she says, looking at you impressed. “You must be a pretty convincing whore.”

“I guess,” you snort, not having expected her to say that. “I definitely feel very lucky.”

“Then don’t let anyone take away what’s yours,” she warns ominously. “Next time you see me,” she says as she starts backing away, “this never happened.”

You sigh, watching as her shadow disappears into the night. “You know,” you call out into the night, “you can just text me and come over any time.” You shout the familiar string of numbers to the crickets, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Jade will at least know you’re not holding her back from seeing Lian even after all the shit that went down 

When Jason and Roy return, they find you curled up asleep on the couch with Lian.

A/N: today i found out that a group of owls is called a parliament and know you know, too! chap 10 needs two scenes written + edited then I'll upload it

alsooo i want to clarify once again that this is found family. the only person in the batfamily she even considers in a familial sense is bruce. reminder that she met everyone at 15 and never once resided in the mansion for more than a week-ish at a time and was quite literally “raised” by her own family / self. is it the most conventional situation? no but that’s why it’s interesting :p thanks for coming to my ted talk

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[poppyandzena]

As someone with borderline in remission, whose sister has active BPD and is working very hard to manage her symptoms, it’s genuinely depressing to hear how P&Z talk about BPD and infuriating to realize how many people with BPD listen to Poppy talking about it like it cannot be managed. I worked so goddamn hard to get to where I am today, and I am so goddamn proud of my beautiful, STRONG, WONDERFUL sister for how far she’s come with managing her own symptoms. When she recognizes herself starting to fixate on people or spiral around incidents, she tries to reach out to people she trusts and listen to their input rather than immediately letting her fears and pain drown her. Sometimes she still goes under, and when she gets enough distance from these situations to see clearly, she apologizes and tries to make amends. She’s learning more every day. When her “fixation” suddenly left her in an extremely traumatic way a couple of years ago (taking their pets with them and spreading horrible lies among their mutual friends on the way out) she fought the urge to try to find her and instead contacted my partner and me for support. And she managed the emotional fallout without giving in to her impulses. I was so proud of her then, just as I was proud of myself when I had a horrible fight with my partner and had the stability to take a walk and come back ready to talk about it calmly rather than going to extremes.

If you are reading this and have been convinced by P&Z that those emotional black holes that open underneath you are just your fate and cannot be changed: please listen to me. It doesn’t have to be this way. Love doesn’t have to be a roller coaster, you can love someone and have them be a genuine place of stability for you. You can experience all of that joy without the dread of what comes when they cross the line between “favorite person” and genuine partner. The relief that comes with recognizing that you will be forgiven, that you will still be LOVED, is worth building towards. I know how painful it is to live with BPD, and I know how much more painful it feels to fight it, but the world is so much bigger and so much more beautiful when you don’t explore it constantly weighted down by dread. The struggle is worth it. I promise. I may not know you, but I know there is a path from where you are to where I am. Don’t give in to despair. Don’t accept a lifetime of being victimized by your own emotions. You deserve much better than to just survive the storms, you deserve to LIVE. You deserve to know how it feels to fall asleep next to someone you love and trust that they will still love you if you wake up screaming and disrupt their sleep. You deserve to understand that you are not lying to those you love, you truly are someone worth caring about. You deserve relationships (familial, platonic, romantic or otherwise) that grow stronger through healing rather than being shattered by any conflict. You deserve to learn who you are underneath all the debris, and learn how you can love yourself and how you want to be loved by others. I hope you find your path to happiness, whatever form it may take.

I was afraid once of getting better because I was afraid I wouldn’t feel things as intensely and/or I’d lose my creativity. But that’s not what happened. Joy unbridled by dread, love unbound by insecurity, these feelings are worth fighting for. Your loved ones, unfiltered by every painful thing that’s ever happened to you, are more beautiful than you can imagine. The world is kinder and brighter and more complex than it appears filtered through fear. And I hope you all get the chance to see it.

Please do not listen to people like Poppy telling you that this is all you will ever be. Please. I listened to people like her for far too long. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.

Thank you so much.

[acourtofquestions]

A Maasverse note because I think sometimes characters get poorly judged both by other characters, plot lines, & fandom reception (of course this is all fictional… so this post is also purely fiction… and probably has some “fictional world differences” or “rules” to apply… but still😂)

This started with the *sarcastic* “lovely” talk with Darrow about the “people of Terrasen” because the idea of blaming Aelin — who, btw, let the record show was ONLY an EIGHT-YEAR-OLD CHILD!!! — for “abandoning them” when she WAS A CHILD really got on my nerves. Especially as even this conversation is taking place with a 19-year-old… while not 8, and “old enough” in her own right; SHE IS STILL NINETEEN… and if you ask me IF ANYONE did any “abandoning” it was the people of Terrasen who simply went “hmm… we can’t find our queen… oh no! She must have drowned! No need to think further!!! MOVING ON!” meanwhile she was KIDNAPPED, after having her ENTIRE family assassinated IN FRONT OF HER (at EIGHT) and nearly drowning to outrun the assassin trying to KILL HER, & Arobynn was NOT much better; she couldn’t escape (cause SHE WAS EIGHT and with an ACTUAL ASSASSIN) and by the time she had “learned” (been forced into & through traumatic, abusive, horrifying, painful experiences for YEARS) enough to be “allowed” to leave the keep and at all able to even possibly run far enough to somehow get to Terrasen it was already GONE there was nothing left for her to go back to or save, and (even then) she was STILL A CHILD. She came back in under 10 years, barely an adult, she SURVIVED, give the girl some CREDIT PLEASE!!! And yeah, she was an assassin, no it’s not the most moral of jobs (but this is fiction) it was that or death, she went to hell & back (this was NOT some pampered upbringing) and YOUR queen endured it FOR you (and YOU damned her to it, or is it not fair to blame you? Oh, so it isn’t fair to blame y'all… yet the EIGHT-YEAR-OLD is fine?!) and to be honest, from her lineage (which kind of doomed her already) to the state of their world, they may actually NEED/want to have an Assassin as a Queen. Like yeah, she did that, she SURVIVED that, she is capable and smart and can actually lead a war. Can any of you old men gawking at her say the same??? Hmm??? No, you can’t because even though you all saw horrors, we all know the CHILDREN of Terrassen endured the worst; Aedion fought your wars, Elide was also kidnapped (not that any of you care; but it did keep her alive—I guess?), so can we just be glad you all are alive?!? AND LEAVE AELIN BE FOR ONCE, PLEASE! (I’m sure Darrow “has his reasons” and a backstory, but as a general point & issue I really can’t stand it).

wow sorry don’t know what got into me there maybe it is a lil personal?😅😂

Then into one that keeps popping up and bothering me: the argument & anger towards Nesta & Elain. Now while it does have its place (and I have been there too during points of my first read), I also am taking it all into account, and while I’m sorry that they let her go into the woods they were children. Nesta was a CHILD. Elain was a CHILD. (Maybe I don’t know exact ages, but they can’t have been in their 20s & 30s😂). THEY WERE ALL CHILDREN TOO. While Feyre was the youngest, while Feyre deserved safety & protection, while Feyre truly did go through a lot (and the fact she didn’t feel loved is absolutely gut-wrenching and wrong) some of which she may have been able to be spared from… she also wasn’t the only child, freezing, starving, losing parents, and terrified. Even Nesta as the oldest was still a kid. Elain is not that much older than Feyre, and she was a kid too. And yes, Feyre was a child, she was FOURTEEN, she was their little sister, and she was a child too even more. But honestly the truest guilt relies on not the sisters (THREE CHILDREN) but on the ACTUAL ADULTS; their father; who did have his issues & eventually redemption (and yes parents aren’t always capable that does happen; disability, pain, grief, depression, they are beasts), but also he still remains FAR more responsible than Nesta or Elain or even Feyre EVER should have been in the first place. It lies on THE ENTIRE VILLAGE that abandoned them; CHILDREN, whose mother had DIED, whose father was CLEARLY UNWELL, who were freezing & starving (& while the village may have been struggling they COULD have struggled TOGETHER and NOT LEFT CHILDREN to their own); THEY should have been the ones to step up. Not Nesta. Not Elain. Not Feyre. The three sisters were all children. And while any oldest sibling knows we are capable of filling roles, that doesn’t make it right; nor does it make anyone’s brains fully formed… so… like… they literally couldn’t think beyond more sometimes. And yes, while I can’t imagine sending one of my siblings (older or younger) off into the woods alone for any reason (I also could understand going off before they could stop you; I can understand why & how Feyre might’ve without them even knowing; because if it were my family it wouldn’t matter I’d do it, even if someone older was there), but I also can’t pretend it would be oh so easy to keep all four people alive by yourself (to a certain extent Nesta needs to be alive because she is the only “semi-adult” in the first place) and still as a child abandoned by the world (she had her issues too) she was a daughter so sure her father would save them begging for it in agony over it and lost in the world. While I in Nesta’s shoes would NEVER have let Feyre be near anyone during a break in, we don’t know the full story, Nesta may not have had options; she may have just run, grabbed Elain who was close by, and hid because at least she could keep them alive; and she was also a terrified child. And while Elain “went along” in Nesta’s shelter without protest; WHY WOULD’NT SHE? All children crave & deserve protection, safety, kindness, love, she has that in Nesta; why would she run from the only stability she has; especially as the child that lost something else (where Nesta was the favorite & simultaneously resented their mother, and Feyre was the “forgotten” child who never got to be a child or know such a kind of safe love, Elain did which means she knew the loss of it she had a mother to grieve) she was young and terrified and holding on to the only thing she could? And what happened to Feyre was terrible, she was forced to shoulder a burden alone, she also took it on (not blaming her, just saying she also didn’t say anything; because it was survival) and yes, it was wrong. But what happened to Nesta and Elain was also wrong. The three of them were children, and they could have done better, but they did their best and survived. As adults, they have begun healing those wounds. What else can we expect other than accountability from the ACTUAL adults at fault?! *and by actual I mean fictional😂*

The past is past. (To some extent in this context side at least)

So I guess all I’m saying is WHY ARE ALL THESE YA NOVELS BASED ON BABY’s AND TEENAGERs AND WHERE ARE ANYONE's PARENTS (oh wait their all orphans that tracks now) CAUSE I GUESS IT'S THE TROPE 🤦‍♀️ and the next character that gets all political & sexist & “my way or the highway child” during the middle of a WAR by blaming Aelin (or gods forbid poor the more I learn) Aedion for what they did to survive as children during Empire of Storms is going to get my wrath😅😂🤣 and don’t you dare Darrow EVER talk to Lysandra like that again!!! *thank you, Rowan, for protecting them; your family; with pride* (at least the 200-year-old stepped up to the plate😅😅😂… too soon?)

Shoutout to iwantavaldezinator for fandoming with me about the Terrasen issue😂

[will-york]

Legacy Part 3 || Elora's Story

William Yéil Lonning was born on a sunny afternoon in late November. His mother, Elora, and his father, Louis, cried the first time they held him in his arms. Elora had just celebrated her 19th birthday the month before and Louis would be turning 20 in a few months. It was just the two of them in that delivery room, neither of their families were the supportive type. Especially when they had decided to keep the baby. Especially when they had gotten married so young. But they had been in love. And William was the ultimate product of their love.

Raising a child however, required more than just love. Without family support and Elora staying home to take care of the baby, Louis was the one who had to do whatever he could to provide for their little family. It was tough and every few weeks something would go wrong and he'd be laid off or fired would force him to find something else. It wasn't so much that Louis had a temper, he just liked to argue his point. He wasn't a man who would raise his voice but his curiosity got the best of him and people often ended up being annoyed. Which often left Elora feeling like she could never settle into stability. They were either always moving to a new place or always trying to make a plan. Surviving, while also making sure their child survived.

There were good days. Days when Louis's last job gave him just enough that they could have a nice day out. Eat in the park with Will and whisper all the dreams they had for him. But even on those days, they'd see other families. With bright clothes and brand new cars. They'd compare themselves and know that it'd take a long time before they were able to get there. If they ever did.

Even with those bright spots, time were mostly hard and when William's first birthday came around and they were staying in a shelter, Elora cried all day. Not only for the state they were in but because of exactly what she knew they needed to do. A week after his first birthday, Elora dressed Will in a new outfit she had managed to swipe from the store, pressed a kiss to his head and left with Louis to give up their parental rights. They had fought about it, cried about it, but in the end, they had loved each other enough to know that it was the right decision. And thought their own relationship didn't last long past that date, there was no denying that what they had done was out of an act of love, not abandonment.

This was the story Elora told Will as they sat at that Diner for hours. There were several cups of coffee had, tears shed, some laughter and a depth of understanding that neither of them knew they were even capable of. She had asked if he would stay a few more days and he stayed the week, finding it fitting to spend the Mother's Day weekend with his mother. After two days in his hotel, he had checked out and stayed at his mother's place. He cooked breakfast with her in the morning and learned that she was better at poker than him. They had spent Mother's Day at the casino and Will learned that he and his mother were more alike than he had originally thought. In fact, he found that she was easy to like, easy to laugh with and more than anything, he could tell that she cared about him. It was a weird feeling, knowing that she was a stranger and yet somehow knew him before anyone else did. Will knew he would have a lot to process when he got home but he almost felt selfish for how well this trip had turned out. As if he hadn't deserved this kind of love but that didn't mean he shied away from it.

There was a part of him that didn't even want to leave. For a little while, he wasn't thinking about everything back home. He barely checked his phone aside from checking in with his Dads at night. He watched the rain from his mother's porch in the morning and walked around the neighborhood with her in the afternoon. She was someone who actually talked to her neighbors and she hadn't hesitated in telling any of them that he was her son. He was surprised to find that a few of them had already heard of him before now. They had used their winnings from the casino to have a fancy dinner and one night they sat in the living room and talked about her record collection, going through album after album.

She told him about Louis and Will didn't know how to feel when she slid him a piece of paper with his biological father's number and address. Louis and Elora hadn't seen each other in years but still talked at least once a year. Usually on Will's birthday. Will had thought so much about his mother, he hadn't even considered his father, let alone one that had actually worked so hard for him only to lose him. Elora had even given him pictures from that first year. He had them all packed away in his suitcase as he got ready to leave that morning.

Elora drove him to the airport and as they stood there, they both burst into tears before wrapping up each other in a tight embrace. Will hadn't known what to expect of this trip but now he didn't even know how to be the person he had been before it. He had learned so much, about himself, his own history that it had completely altered the fiction he had made up in his mind. The insecurity around abandonment. It didn't just go away over night but it had slowly started to release the grip it had on him. They wiped away each other's tears and Will made her promise to come visit. He'd buy her ticket. He wanted her to see his life, meet his friends and the people who had become his family. There was no going back, or leaving her really. She was with him now and he wasn't letting go of that.

He stayed with her as long as he could before getting on his plane. As it took off, he felt the tears in his eyes and he had to laugh at how much emotion had risen up in him this past week. He felt like he hadn't cried this much since Theo had taken them to see A Star is Born accidentally. The thought made him smile as he thought about the life he was going back to. It felt expanded in so many ways and he wasn't sure how he would adjust at all. Or find a way to still be present.

As the plane touched back down in Nevada, he felt a sense of peace come over him. He almost cried again but laughed it off, took some deep breaths and met his Dads at the baggage claim, leaning happily into their hugs. As he got into the back seat and listened to his father's questions, he realized he knew one thing for certain. And that was that love had always been present in his life. He hadn't been an after thought or a mistake. He had been loved. Every moment of his existence in the world. It was a greater gift than any money could buy.

[reginarubie]

The Dance has begun. I can understand Sansa, as for why she feels so small again, calling out to her real family even more desperately — if only these people knew what was coming, just like she does! And right now she's not that Little Bird, she's a fighter and she won't run. I love this girl and how full of compassion for other people she is. She knows that innocents are going to be sacrificed for literally nothing. Alicent does too, but she blindly prays for salvation because opening her eyes would kill her. Rhaenys does too, but... I mean, this lady has issues. Or maybe she's just THE Targaryen and it is ✨fine✨ for them to think like that. Ugh, cringe bitches, both her and Rhae — Laenor deserved better, just like Symon does, though he's got something better than he hoped for. Ned is saving him just as much he & his fam saved her from Larys. *In Aemond's voice* It's a fair exchange. And oh no Rhaenys, don't you compare Lady Whent to your spoiled cun..ning niece. Ugh, I can't stand her in any universe, sorry. One more proof you got all the characters so well! But enough of the Blacks, my Green boys! Sansa is definitely all of us watching THAT scene 🤣 Despite it's being a fight scene it's absolutely heartwarming and I was happy to experience a better version of it. Aegon and Sansa need to chat more Imao, it's sending me 😜

But Aemond, babe, your plan! It wasn't that bad. Almost as okay as Daeron becoming a king in F&B. However, their loyalty to Aegon is here again to ruin the day. Loyalty is a great thing but did any of you except Niddle listen to Aegon himself? HELAENA MY DEAR SHE'S HAVING SUCH A BAD TIME WITH ALL THIS BULLSHIT. Cousin Ned is there for you to feel valuable 💜 I hope Cole mentions that it was Ned's idea, the crown.

Also... One more hint on the possible third team... The Starks + Firesteel? Would be perfect 🥺 Waiting for the Storm's End. Hope Ned does something to Aemond's anger issues hehe... But even if Luke doesn't die, something tells me the Blacks still won't be satisfied. Either way, may Lady Stark survive them all once more 😈

Ciao Anne!,

As always thank you for your review it’s amazing!

Rhaenys is still a Targaryen to the core and she has her own plan, she doesn’t trust Rhaenyra one bit, but she has her plan and won’t be standing down about it. Her girls need to inherit Driftmark and their children — Laena’s grandchildren — to sit on the Iron throne for her revenge to be complete, also, it felt fitting with the way she acted with the attack to the Sept that Rhaenys would be like “The Realm ain’t my responsibility since they rejected me. Now they pay the price”

Aegon is very aware that he is not fit to rule — maybe he might have been but his issues are all over the place — and he knows Ned is more clever than she lets on, he has seen it, and he’s a little spoiled shit anyway. So ofc their interactions would be fun 😂😂😂 he be like “Where’s ya husband, cousin?” a jab to her and Aemond alike and then be like “Ya know, I know, the Seven know. Are you more attached to reality than these idiots?”

Helaena is a baby and she must be protected at all costs, and Sansa is there for it. In the book it was Alicent and Helaena both who talked Aegon out of full war and convinced him to offer her peace terms. So she’s much more involved than the show made her — terrible really so we’ll see more of her. Sansa’ll make sure of it!

Aemond’s contingency plan wasn’t that bad, and it took into account several issues… still could the Greens claim to be better than the Blacks if they fought an intestine war between themselves? No. They love each other, they’re loyal — never forget Aegon commissioned ginormous statues of his brothers, Aemond never took the throne though he acted as Prince Regent and Daeron actually throw wine in the face of the lord who dared suggest he stole his brother’s crown.

Like Alicent did one thing right, she made sure her children would be united and loyal and true to each other — we see that also in the private dinner scene in the show, Aegon shoulders Aemond in his speech and immediately is ready to throw punches when the Black kids come for them making sure to humiliate them by slamming their face in the plate — 😂😂😂.

Lady Stark is much stronger than anyone gives her credit for, much more clever than anyone gives her credit for and much more good and brave than anyone gives her credit for. She’s going to eat you all alive and make of you all her project to save the North and you will do it gladly because she asked nicely. 😂😂😂

That’s Sansa superpower. Her own brand of magic.

Thank you again for dropping by and for the amazing review!

As always sending all my love ~G.

[magnoila-breath]

Some of the best conversations I’ve ever had were when I was curled up in an outside third place, smoking my little metal bowl and rocking to myself. I come from familial wealth and am still unlearning a lot of my classism and ableism bullshit. The people who have had great conversations with me when I’ve put my raised neoliberal barriers of who I’m “allowed” to talk to and talked to them, are the disheveled, the ridden hard, the people who have survived longer with less— who are often far more similar to me than anyone in my family’s wealth bracket.

I understand that I’m not living pretty much exactly like they are because of the circumstances I was born into, and that’s it.

My parents’ love and/or tolerance of me as a queer person, a trans person, a chronically disabled person with multiple cluster b’s, a system, an autistic person— how well I am able to hide some aspects of my authentic self, how hard I fought against their initial transphobia, and how they chose to keep me in their lives and under their protection when I was suicidal and falling apart for years, is why I am not homeless. They’re willing to provide me with separate housing because under the same roof, the way my mom treats me is too fucking abusive— she won’t get help but she will at least try to separate us, which is honestly a miracle and a blessing, I’d have killed myself sharing a house with someone who talks to me like that all the time (I can’t go no contact because of financial reasons, and frankly because abuse is way more complicated than people think it is, and like… I still love her :/)— that’s the only reason I have housing. They provide me with the means and the resources to look for a job that doesn’t dehumanize me. That is an incredible mercy. My family helps me take care of my son (cat) and keep his quality of life tbh better than mine (good. Preferred.) I’m on their insurance, with chronic disability protection. I’m able to access meds and T. I’m able to buy weed. Sometimes, I can afford groceries (other times, the supermarket can damn well use the budget they’re importing goods from RealHell with to cover my costs) but usually I can’t. There’s a level of help that while it does exist, the emotional abuse and codependency issues that come with accessing it aren’t worth it anymore.

I am insanely privileged and insanely lucky, and that disgusts me, not selfishly but because everyone deserves a bare minimum of respect and care and safety above where I’m at.

I met a guy who’s a black belt master in multiple defensive combat practices, who’s a father with kids in college. I was able to give him my old iphone when my parents bought me a new one. Someone had stolen his phone right when I was being bought a new phone and it seemed like, stupid as it can be to center myself in the story of another person’s life, we were in the same place at the same time so we could help each other. He was wonderful to talk to, incredibly smart and interesting. He offered to teach me basic self defense.

The guy he was with was closer to my age, and we talked for hours (with the dad as well) about our interpretations of abrahamic theology and how we each practiced the mutual recognition of the self in all others and all others in the self, that human connection. He practiced some niche esoteric Judaism I’d never heard of before but that was incredibly interesting. He spends a lot of time helping other people, and gives sermons. I’m not much of a sermons guy but I still want to hear him speak sometime.

One of my newer friends, Wesley, was sitting with his dog and smoking a few feet away from me. I defaulted to the thing of keeping a cautious but diverted eye on him because of his appearance and the unpredictability I associate with it. I dress myself fairly often to appear unapproachable and for lack of a better word, crazy, so people don’t try to fuck with me and find out that I am eminently fuck-with-able, scare easily, and have barely any life skills. I was scraping at flower residue in my grinder for like 10 minutes, silently worrying I was annoying him, when he came up to me. When I popped my headphones out, he offered me a small bag of weed with two small buds in there. He said he had seen me struggling with my grinder and felt bad. I accepted it awestruck and while at the time I said it’s okay, I have more at home, but if you’re still offering this I would be grateful to have it— but I was running out at home. The gift Wesley gave me is why I’m not out of weed now. I met his dog, an absolute angel, strawberry furred pittie puppy. We talked for a long time about that human connection of mutual superpositional self and how that made anyone who’s recognized it unable to truly harm each other because we don’t want to. Different friends of his came by and talked to us. One of the most well composed and safe seeming friends I later learned had put Wes in the hospital, forcing him to go no contact with them even though they’d been incredibly close for years— even loving people truly, and even when they’re in the same nightmares as we are, we can’t help everyone. The guy, before his internal self shifted in some way I couldn’t follow him to, had some of the most gentle, calming, and wonderful energy I’ve ever been around. I hope he doesn’t remember my face, but I really hope he gets the help he needs because the few seconds of him I got to meet were of a wonderful person. Knowing like a dull ache it’s unlikely he’ll ever get that help and I don’t have the resources to help him, hurts. I met him for like, ten minutes.

Wesley sat for a while with a woman I’d seen around town before, gen x’er. She complimented my outfit. I waited on the benches for a couple minutes while he retrieved his ukulele from his new apartment, and he sang such a beautiful song he’d written himself, and played the uke like an actual instrument. We traded instagrams.

I’m only separated from them and so many others by random circumstance. There’s no reason I’m not them. There’s no reason they’re not me. We are separated into our selves arbitrarily, but the ways we are separated within the society we all occupy are gruesomely, systemically manufactured. Pretty much all the people I’ve met in that third place, I love them. I want to know them for a very long time. It does none of us any good to use the separations systemically drawn between us to decide who is good to be around.

I love human beings. I wish I could share and offer more of the resources I benefit from. I wish I could give them the hospital visits I haven’t needed when they do. The shelter. The food, the water, the meds, the respect given selfishly by others to those who have the means to better mask our own experiences of being. I love going to that third place more than the hipster cafe 100 yards away where I used to hurry to. I still go there too, but it’s different now. I like to get high and feel myself mellow out and open up, and talk to people. I want them to have everything they’ve ever needed too.

Be with your community, please. Learn how to do it. Most of the time you will discover the reason you were taught to be afraid is to keep you isolated and exhausted, apologetic, carefully compartmentalizing your self, your madness anonymous and offstage. I am by no means perfect at this. I still often judge initially too fast. Everyone is just you but as someone else. That doesn’t mean they’re just like you. It means you’re just like them. We’re all just like us, people who don’t want to break that innate bond with dehumanization, anyway.

Anarchism isn’t a fucking aesthetic. My praxis isn’t internet memes. Your praxis is to be lived, not displayed in a glass case. You are meant to BE.

self proclaimed schizoposter nervously typing '911' into their phone and hovering their thumb above the 'call' key as they hawkishly watch a disheveled guy at a bus stop make repetitive movements and ramble to himself

[spiritsaraginghomo]

A few days ago my mom broke the news,

she got the job,

we’re moving,

we’re going to finally be stable,

we’re going to have money,

we’re going to live,

we can get a house, we can go to college without worrying about crippling debt, we can get nice things, do fun things, go on vacations, travel the world….

We did it

My parents have done nothing but fight for their lives just to make sure me and my siblings don’t end up like them,

They were uneducated

They had no future

Yet they fought, because of us

When we struggled in school or were bullied

They fought

When me and my brother came out

They loved and cared

They forsake meals and warmth for us

They got above the poverty line for us

She went to college and got the first well paying job in our family history, for us

They tried everything to get out out of here, we attempted to immigrate to other countries, and when we failed they tried everything to get jobs in another state, somewhere safe, somewhere forgiving.

For us

We had no future

We were starving

We couldn’t get the gifts we wanted

We wore old hand me down clothes and shoes

We participated in everything that gave us free meals

We grew up unaware and happy

We didn’t know what they were going through

Then we learned

We shared that suffering

I knew myself

I always knew who I was even without words to define the feelings

But they were always there

My parents always helped me experiment and explore

I learned about queerness

My mother learned of hers as I learned of mine

My father always loved and supported

I am loved

It kept me going

It kept me alive

Even when my closest friends didn’t make it

Even when blood stained the walls of my school, of my city, of my state

I hated it, why did they die, I’ll never forgive the kids who did it

The others left and fled, just so they’d be able to live

Money got tighter and tighter

More left more died

Senior year, and I became the last man standing in a pool of blood and an abandoned lunch table

Everyone I once called a friend either hated me for my identity, died trying to explore and protect theirs, or left to preserve themselves

Murder, accidents, suicide

6 forgotten names, not a single soul said a word of what happened to all of them, left to rot on news articles

Just when I thought I’d survive

Half my life disappeared, my black cat, who was starting to grey with age, dead in our own driveway

Next door the neighbors dog couldn’t handle it, she lost her best friend, not even a week after, and she simply went to sleep

All in the final month, the final stretch, things were going so well, I thought

I left school with a bloodstained diploma and a shattered heart

All that was left for me was family and my online friends

Our stories, our art

It kept me alive

For so long

I have felt like nothing but a dead man walking

Nothing but fantasy and make believe to keep me company

Yet it all changes in just a few weeks

Im going to make it

Im going to live

I have a future

I will thrive

Im sorry to those I leave behind

Im sorry to those I couldn’t protect

Im sorry I couldn’t see the bigger picture

I’m sorry that I’ve forgotten your names

Your faces

I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you all when you needed it

I wish it was different

I wished that you’d all be happy and alive

But now it’s just me

I’ll make them proud, I’ll remember their names, I’ll remember their hopes

I’m going to live

I want to make people prosper

I want to do something with meaning

I want to make the world better

Make it beautiful

Everyone deserves happiness

Everyone deserves life

It starts now

It starts with this move

It starts with these new jobs

It starts.

I finally feel like I can create for the sake of creating, that it doesn’t need to be the thread that kept me hanging

I love you mom and dad, I love my friends, I love my siblings, my cats and dogs, everyone means so much to me, thank you to everyone who has ever supported me in life and kept me going

I’m finally going to be ok

[stxrmnight]

Quick intermission - Stone by Stone

I don't have much screenshots here as I was too straightforwardly enjoying everything, but I can drop by some comments.

The Skalla Mission was intriguing, harrowing and challenging! It reminder her why she liked exploring and learning directly from the world that had been limited to books for a long time for her. It was still a lot to take on solo though, and so she arrived last in the race with Arenvald and Alphinaud. The boys high fived while Nemi clapped with pride.

Nemi was surprised to encounter one of the Skulds in the field, but she found herself more amenable to conversation than expected. If her village people were allowed to do reparative work to make up for the arm deals of the leaders, the former conscripts deserved a chance too to shed the brainwashing of garlean coercion.

Stepping into Fordola's cell and witnessing her traumatic loss... no wonder the conscripts she fought before didn't just drop their weapons and run once they crossed into enemy territories. What if their families with lesser rights was more defenseless, or they were punished as consequence to non compliance? The machine that kept the ranks filled was grinding and inhuman.

She held her breath when Fordola got a rush from her mind, her gut freezing as Fordola asked her how she survived with so much pain. What exactly had she seen? But she couldn't inquire her in front of Lyse, Arenvald and Alphinaud. She could just answer her.

It seemed to not alliviate her seeking for power and safety. Fordola had been reaffirmed, again, that power didn't spare you from being mortal. She did not think this was why she helped protect the Ala Mhigan leader summit though. Lyse must have worked something incredible in running to her for help. Good. Her father's risk would not be in vain then, long as she lived and made up for her misdeeds.

For the record, the only personal flashbacks Fordola got on top of the main story ones would be terror of the Ascians, leaving her childhood friend behind, finding Wilred dead, Fray's betrayal in Whitebrim, her breakdown in Bittermill, defeating Lambard, and being recognized by her father. A lot of whammy to experience at once...

I like to think in the future, two expansions after, Nemi sits to ask her if she wants to talk and unpack any of the foreign emotions she got exposed to and apologize for them, saying she understands the stress of the resonant better now.

don't remember what this led to, but don't like that!

I don't acknowledge the Nanamo and Godbert conversation specially not after Endwalker patches. She got some hush shit on the monetarists and got them to comply with conceding discussion of some terms.

[moonrisecalamityretreat]

It’ll Never Be Better Than It Was || Hotaru || Trial 4

She knew she was an option, but despite it all, Hotaru had always believed that she would survive. If she was going to die in this stupid game, it was going to be a fight. She had been just waiting for an excuse to use the scalpel she’d been carrying around since the day they woke up in that spa, knowing at any moment it could be kill or be killed.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. A randomized execution wasn’t how Hotaru Doigawa was supposed to go out. The peace and the smile on her face drops as soon as she hears her name, her hand coming up to squeeze the necklace of the last person to be executed. She never thought she’d have to experience the terror and fear and heartbreak Hisakata must have felt, and now she can only desperately scrabble for the strength she hopes he can give her from beyond.

When Jinpachi comes running she opens her arms, burying herself in his hold as she tries to breathe. Try to find something she can possibly say. She’s supposed to have some dramatic speech, not just stand here frozen and choking.

♫♫♫

She pictures the brother holding her, so much smaller, so distant even when they were in the same room. The both of them always with their walls up around each other just in case - too desperate to be perfect and strong the way their families would want them to be.

She’s so thankful that that changed. That no matter what comes next, she gets to carry that love with her. She gets to know he saw her. That so many people saw her.

She pictures her other brother, who will thankfully not be forced to see this. The way she used to hide in his arms while their parents fought in a different room, trying to ignore the sounds of broken glass and whimpered sobs.

Their parents. They won’t even know until the broadcast comes back on. She’ll just be gone, the way Masami was.

It’s that thought that finally gets her to break. She’s cried so much this past week that she’s surprised there’s any tears left, but she finds them as she sobs into Jinpachi’s chest. What does it matter if the others think she’s weak right now? She could be forgiven for this, right?

“Jinpachi…” she squeezes him once more before pulling away enough to smile up at him, her voice gentle. “It’s okay. It’s…well, no, of course it’s not okay but…I’m here. I’ll always be here. You have to get out, okay? You need to survive and be happy, the way I always wanted for us both. I’m sorry that you’re going to go through this. I didn’t do anything drastic, at least, hm?”

She looks at Hanji and then Futaba, nodding. “Take care of him, the both of you. If he ends up with me before he’s an old man, I’ll come back to haunt you.” A smile graces her features, then. She’s so thankful for them. It would have taken Jinpachi so much longer to find happiness without their help.

Hotaru only separates from him when Mikazuki approaches, wrapping them in her arms. If she closes her eyes and lets herself breathe she can try and believe that they’re back in the amusement park, dancing under the fireworks. They’re back in the amusement park, and they’re having their first kiss. They're somewhere in their own apartment, just enjoying the quiet together, Hotaru’s mind only really at ease when she has Mikazuki in her arms.

They’ve never been much for PDA, but Hotaru insists on kissing her anyway, long and gentle. “You deserve a good life. A good ending. I don’t want to end up sad ghosts together just yet, so stay strong for me, okay? I’ll always love you, I promise. I’m so glad I got to have you in my life, even if it was only for a while.” She laughs, broken but soft as she slips her scalpel out of her pocket and presses it into Mikazuki’s grasp, careful not to hurt them. “And when you get the bastards that did this, I’ll be right there with you.”

She returns back to embracing them, trying to memorize every little detail about how they feel . She wants to keep this for as long as she can, until the bunnies pull her away.

“Love is for chumps.”

“Awww, it’s okay! You’ll find someone to love someday.”

“I don’t care.”

—

"Aw. You really have empathy for a sad rich girl? Now that I don't think you can ever live down."

“Well, that’s different, it’s you.”

"And you loooove me."

Despite the tears still streaming down her cheeks, she can’t help but smile. It may have been easier if they never found each other, but she feels so warm. So happy. Even if this is the ending of their grand love story, she’d tell it again and again. Because every chapter that came before was the happiest she’d ever been.

She holds tight even as she addresses the others.

“Ah…I suppose I could be more specific but…” She smiles. “Thank you, my friends, for everything. All the patience and kindness and good memories. I’m sorry I can’t be here to see this through. Just…please take care of each other, okay? As much as you can. And don’t hesitate to be open, either. At least then…you don’t have any regrets.”

She's lost so many friends, but there's still so many left standing, and she shoots supportive smiles to them. To the kind people, who she wished she could have let her walls down for.

Maybe there's not some deep personal memory with everyone here, but she finds that this isn't some grand speech. She sincerely hopes for the best for all of them, even…

She turns her head towards Maxime and Loic.

“Even you two. Thank you. And fuck you for killing my best friend.” There’s barely any heat in it, only resignation. Despite it all…no, because of it all, she relates to them both. She’s thankful Maxime can say the same enough to offer a message.

“Tell them that I love them. That I’m sorry for any trouble I have caused or that this will cause. You do owe me that. And…tell my father that even if I love him…I’ll never forgive him.”

She presses a kiss to Mikazuki’s cheek. If there’s one last lesson she learns from her time here, it’s that love will never make you want to hurt. It’s not about some stupid “some people take and some people give” philosophy. She wishes she could shield her from every pain that she’s about to feel.

She wishes she could tell Sayuri and Ikko that she understands now…maybe if they all end up together after this, she can say it then.

[daimyosprincess]

YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME OH MY GOD EVERYTHING WAS TOO HOT AND NOW I HAVE THIRD DEGREE BURNS ON MY HEART AND PUSSY

Trillions of credits were spent on the lives of every single brother I knew, but now suddenly repayment for our service was too high a cost. Fighting in this war was the right thing to do, no question. The things the 501st and I achieved were among the greatest honors of my life. But now, after everything, the galaxy would always see me as more than a droid but less than a person.  What’s the point of fighting anymore?

Rexxxxxxxxx I'm so sorry my beautiful sweet man, we never deserved you or any of your brothers 😭🤧 you're so unbelievably strong in a galaxy that never spared you a second thought and you deserve everything good and special

“If you’re looking for a reason why you survived when so many of your brothers did not… I think you’ve found it. You’re their leader. They’ll follow you anywhere. I know I will, too.” She gasped suddenly and her hands flew to her belly. “And someone else agrees,” she beamed, my hands reaching down to join hers to feel the tiny flutters of his kicks. I knelt down in front of her, glancing up at her quickly for permission before pulling the bottom of her shirt up to speak directly to him. “Hey little bug, you think I can do it too, huh?” I tried to imagine what it must be like to be so small but to experience life alongside both of your parents as you grow; to be along for the ride with them instead of growing alone and in silence in a sterile tube like my brothers and I had. While we would never know a bond like that, we had each other. Just like I would do anything for her and our little one, someone had to feel the same about my brothers and the birth of a new life they could have if we all just fought for it.

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP this is so sweet I'm going to P A S S A W A Y they love each other so much and they're a little family I'm bawlinggggggg

“Well, I can’t say I blame him. You’re stunning,” Howzer complimented bluntly, arching a brow at me and smirking. “Probably too good-looking for him, cyar’ika,” he added, taking her free hand again and pressing a polite kiss to her knuckles.

Lmfaooooo BIG Howzer energy I love that handsome guy so much

Ok now for the THOTS

“You want this pussy, Captain?” I mocked, lifting my hips up just enough to slide his cock between my drenched lips explicitly. He moaned my name in confirmation and his hands gripped at the plush of my hips to move me faster. “Then come and take what’s already yours, Rex,” I offered, slowing my rolling hips as his tip neared my entrance. “Show me why you own me.”

askjdLKJDA:dfjalfj;jfajfa;kljdf "COME TAKE WHAT'S ALREADY YOURS" "SHOW ME WHY YOU OWN ME" Mari you absolute minx baddie siren angel of a woman Rex never stood a chance against you huh

“Yes, Rex. You’re right there, right where I want you. Where it hurts. Where I need you to fuck until it feels better. Please,” I begged, lifting my hips and rotating them as I started grinding down on him desperately. “Your cock… it's all I ever want. Rex!” I could feel his fingers starting to circle my clit again, still sensitive from being played with so mercilessly once already. Pressure mounted in between my thighs and heat swelled through every part of my body all over again.

When I tell you I had the most filthy, depraved thots about Rex mirror fucking when you're all sensitive and hormonal......... I'm going straight to hell and I'm not even sorry

Last but DEFINITELY not least:

ZEETA YOU OWN ME I LOVE YOU

Captain's Log: Chapter 13

Renewal

Series Summary: The galaxy is in turmoil. The Republic has fallen, giving rise to the sinister reign of the totalitarian Empire, led by the insidious Emperor Palpatine. The millions of valiant clone troopers of the former Grand Army of the Republic are now blindly sworn, against their will, to protect a regime they once sought to destroy. After being saved from a terrible fate by his former-Jedi ally and close friend, Ahsoka Tano, seasoned veteran CT-7567 Clone Captain Rex remains loyal to the pillars of Democracy, freedom and truth that shaped the former Galactic Republic. We follow him now struggling to deal with the personal aftereffects of survival and finding his place in the galaxy alongside the only person he has left. You. The love of his life.

[previous] [next] part of Captain's Log series post on ao3 Pairing: Captain Rex x Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns used) Word Count: 13.7k im sorry but also its worth it 😏 Series Rating: Explicit (18+ only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT) Chapter Summary: With most of the galaxy against them and the odds not on their side, Rex and his crew must decide how far they will go for family. Batchmates resurface and assign a new mission. Readers first symptoms begin and she finds herself in desperate need of relief. Chapter Warnings: 18+ EXPLICIT, P in V sex, fingering, mirror sex, dirty talk, squirting if ya squint ;), Mature Themes, Language, Political References, References to Canon Plot, References to Canon Deaths, Angst, Anguish.

Darkness. It could describe so much of my life right now besides just the atmosphere around our bunk room. Pitch black, not even a single ounce of light streaming in. Every part of the ship that was not life support or the hyperdrive navigation was powered down to conserve fuel, so even the cabin lights and switches weren’t dotting the walls like landing platform markers. After the meeting we had, life kinda felt like the ship–flying blind without a destination or a purpose to guide us forward. 

I couldn’t say I’d ever felt this much doubt, even during the worst of the battles I fought in during the war.

What was it all for?

Freedom? For who? I’d never really felt true freedom–I don’t think any of us did save for maybe Cut. But even he had to hide from the Republic in order to live the life he wanted.

Trillions of credits were spent on the lives of every single brother I knew, but now suddenly repayment for our service was too high a cost.

Fighting in this war was the right thing to do, no question. The things the 501st and I achieved were among the greatest honors of my life. But now, after everything, the galaxy would always see me as more than a droid but less than a person. 

What’s the point of fighting anymore?

I tossed and turned in bed, throwing my forearm over my face and groaning uncomfortably. She didn’t even stir beside me, her exhaustion a by-product of her first pregnancy symptom finally showing. Nausea and intense vertigo had kept her up and made her woozy for nearly the entire rest of the night. At this point, it was best to just let her sleep even though I couldn’t.

I rolled over, slowly easing myself out of her arms wrapped around my torso, and sat up on the edge of the bunk. I sighed, resting my forehead in my hands and trying to take deep breaths. I had to talk to my brothers about this. The decision from the Alliance. The mission for Cham. Everything.

We had gotten in too late to discuss anything, and her not feeling well meant we headed straight to bed after I’d told Wolffe to get us to Ryloth. Now was as good a time as ever to talk to them, without worrying her or stressing her out any more than necessary. Besides, she’d done enough fighting for us already.

I hoisted myself up, grabbed my body glove, and slipped it on. The uniform felt oddly comforting and reminiscent of a time when things still made sense to me. Our bunk door slid open and I tiptoed away quietly, heading up the rungs of the ladder to the cockpit where I knew Wolffe and Gregor would be completely awake just like I was.

I tapped on the cockpit door and entered, the two of them perking up immediately, probably eager to hear the news. However, the sight of me exhausted and almost defeated snuffed out any hint of their excitement. I plopped down in the passenger seat behind Gregor, avoiding their eyes.

Wolffe stood up from his spot in the pilot’s chair and scowled, “What happened, Rex?”

“Yeah, everything alright? You don’t look so good.” Gregor scooted forward, resting his hand on my forehead. 

“The Alliance doesn’t want to help us. They think it's too much for them to tackle,” I sighed, watching the hope in Gregor’s face falter and the rage in Wolffe’s grow. “I don’t even want to tell you some of the things that were said.” I massaged my temples with the pads of my fingers as I tried to remove their words of disgust from my memory.

“Even with her and Bail speaking up for us?” Gregor inquired, sitting back and contemplating how things could’ve fallen off this quickly.

I thought about the fire in my beloved’s eyes as she had lambasted them with scolding words of moral righteousness, battling their every misguided fear with the soaring light of truth. She reminded me not of the senator she served under, but of my general–absolutely fearless in the face of certain death and loss. She stood unyielding where no one else dared. She spoke for me when others wouldn’t listen. She fought, kicked, and hit them where it hurt, just like he always did for me. “She gave it a hell of a fight. Wish you could’ve seen her up there. She was… incredible, but it didn’t matter.”

“So what? We don’t fucking need them. We’ll take care of our own, like we always have,” Wolffe spat, his disappointment usually presented as anger to hide his hurt. He had always been that way.

I glanced between my brothers, their own eyes now teaming with justified rage, and felt nothing but fear for both of them. They didn’t have to hear what even the galaxy’s best people thought of us, and I’d do everything in my power to make sure they wouldn’t for as long as I could. Because if good people couldn’t bring themselves to care, then what did we have left? 

Maybe the time was approaching when it didn’t make sense to fight anymore. Maybe I was the only one who saw it. I felt guilty even thinking about it. It went against every principle I ever knew to give up, but that had become a possibility for the first time in my life.

“And where has that ever gotten us, Wolffe? Hurt, kidnapped, missing, killed… what’s the point? Of all of this? Aren’t you tired of only being what they used us for?” I asked quietly, trying desperately to hold back the anxious tears that had been brimming in my eyes since the start of that meeting.

Wolffe stopped, his anger breaking immediately, and he crouched down to my eye level. “Yeah, Rex. Always. Every day. Since the day I was put in this armor. Since the day they crushed my entire battalion and stuck me back out there the very next day. But you know what keeps me going? What gets me back out there every time? My brothers. My flesh and blood. If there’s still a chance we can help them, I want to try. The two of you helped me remember that.”

From the way his jaw twitched, I could tell he was still thinking about Fox, and maybe Cody as well.

“You risked your life to take me in, Rex. I wouldn’t be here without you,” Gregor said, offering up his canteen of water and patting my shoulder. “We may not be ready to take on the Empire, and I understand being tired of fighting, but I’m not going to give up on my brothers. We can still fight to try and save them, even if we have to do it alone.” 

I sighed, closing my eyes and pressing the heels of my palms onto them. “I know, I know. You’re right. It’s just… hard not to let it get to you. Especially now after what I’ve heard. The whole galaxy thinks we were in on it. On all of it. It was… tough to just stand there and take.”

Wolffe grunted in annoyance, his disdain for politicians growing by the day. “And Bail? What did he say?”

“He was one of only three senators who voted to help us, along with Saw Gerrera and Cham Syndulla. Syndulla got us our next mission,” I mentioned, pointing to the navicomputer. It was blinking with the updated timing for our approach to Ryloth.

“Helping people who care is all we can do now. Let us make a difference where we can. We’ll find our own way,” Gregor reassured, reaching for the canteen in my hand and taking a few swigs of water for himself.

Wolffe resumed his seat, doing a quick systems check on the ship to keep his hands busy. “Ryloth, huh? Howzer was stationed there last I can recall. He picked up where Keeli left off.” 

“Yeah. Guess my whole batch had to visit this planet once,” I remarked, fondly remembering my brother and eldest batchmate, Keeli, who died long before the galaxy changed. Howzer and I were probably the only two left of our batch now. “I lost contact with him a long time ago. What do you know about the situation there?”

“Well, I know he and his men were still stationed there. Though for the Empire, not the Republic. Things were just starting to get testy when I… when I got away,” Wolffe explained, scratching the growing beard on his jaw as he thought.

“Howzer and his boys must’ve rebelled and held the Empire off for a little while. Cham needs us to eliminate the rest of the special forces. He wants to hit them while they’re still down. We’ve got a small window in the next few rotations,” I explained, relaying the information Cham had given us when he approached us on Fest.

“And what’s in it for us?” Gregor inquired, sitting back in the co-pilot's chair and sighing. He looked tired–there were dark circles under his eyes and the familiar, cheerful light in them was noticeably absent. I wonder if he ever sleeps much anymore.

“Cham promised us supplies and weapons. Anything we need to start preparing for an uprising,” I replied, trying to mentally count the munitions we had in the hold downstairs. There wasn’t much that the pirates who owned this scrap heap left behind for us and our DC-17s weren’t going to cut it for the entire company’s worth of clones we planned on freeing.

“So, he’s committing to our freedom, huh?” Wolffe thought aloud, snorting to himself. “Guess he does live up to his name. Howzer must’ve done quite a bit to earn his trust. Cham was one of the Republic’s biggest headaches at times.”

“Howzer saved the Syndulla’s lives. He and his men are with them leading the fight against Imperial occupation now. Guess the Bad Batch helped him see reason. Cham’s fought his way back to the planet, and he wants us to help him eliminate the remnants of the Empire’s forces before they breach the city walls again.”

Gregor laughed, “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I am itching for a fight against those Imperial dogs.” He whipped the chair around and took over the controls just as the nav signaled our drop out of hyperspace. “Where we off to, Cap?”

“Head toward these coordinates. Cham’s palace is on the outskirts of the capital, Lessu. We’re supposed to meet him there.” I reached up to the console and tapped the coordinates in, giving my brothers a flight path.

“She agreed to this?” Wolffe asked gruffly, pointing casually at where she slept downstairs.

“Before he even had the chance to ask,” she interrupted, climbing up into the cockpit. I rose and pressed a kiss into her hair as she came to stand beside me. The same fire she had during her speech was still burning in her dark eyes. 

Wolffe smirked and shook his head. “She’s dangerous, Rex’ika. Be careful, darling, I might have to steal you from him.”

“Over my dead body, you grump,” she laughed, punching him in the bicep and resting her head on my shoulder. “We better get him some female attention soon. He’s not used to not being fawned over.”

Wolffe began to groan in protest, but the incoming holomessage from Cham interrupted him.

“Captain, I am glad you managed to persuade your men to join our cause. I must say your brothers here were relieved to hear of your collective survival,” Cham said, his serious stare hardened and cold enough to intimidate even through a hologram.

“Hey, we’re happy to be here, too,” I joked, though Cham didn’t crack. He apparently wasn’t known for his humor. “This here is Gregor, ex-commando. And this is Wolffe, formerly of the 104th attack battalion.”

He bowed his head graciously and turned to my cyar’ika. “And how are you? My men have heard your speech. They are interested in meeting you, to thank you for speaking up for them. It has meant a great deal. Many have joined my cause because of you.”

She smiled, the blaze of justice igniting in her eyes. “Doing well, General. Thank you. Tell your men we’re on our way.”

Syndulla gestured to a few people out of frame and nodded in understanding. “Our landing bay is an open-mouthed cave entrance on the left side of the palace. You will not be followed there. We’ll see you soon.” Wolffe guided the ship down through the tall plateaus and rocky terrain of this part of the planet just as the hologram disappeared.

“So speaking of female company…” Gregor smirked, “Ryloth is known for its performative, grand welcomes. Think you could put in a good word for me, gorgeous?” he turned over his shoulder to ask her.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s been that long for you, hmm?” I laughed at her obvious annoyance and kissed her forehead as her arms wrapped around me.

“Far too long,” Gregor replied, “and never with a Twi’lek.” He winked, glaring at the both of us. “Besides… I think you two owe me.”

Wolffe laughed for the first time in weeks, “Yeah, I second that.”

I could practically feel her blushing. “I’ll see what I can do,” she hummed softly. The normalcy of this request reminded me of all the times she wing-manned the Torrent boys back home at 79s. That was nothing more than fond memories now.

The ship flew through the shade cast by clouds of past explosions covering the surface, and I gulped at the craters left on the planet's surface by battles weeks old. It must’ve been a rough evac if this much debris had been left behind.

I could feel her wincing beside me and I seated us both down gently into the passenger's seat behind Gregor. She probably hadn’t seen battlefields to the extent we had throughout the war. It was hard to look at even for guys like us who had seen hundreds of worlds like this. From the looks of it, it was only getting worse under the Empire.

My soldier’s resolve was strengthening in my soul all over again. Seeing worlds like this, absolutely destroyed by evil, and knowing that people needed help was a reminder that I couldn’t give up. My other reminder rested under my palm as I rubbed slow strokes on her warm lower belly. Even if I wanted to, even if things were getting worse, even if the galaxy gave up on all of us clones, I didn’t have it in me to quit, because our ad’ika deserved to grow up in a safe galaxy.

She looked up at me, her hand coming to rest over mine, nodding once like she could read my thoughts. That was why she agreed to the mission. She knew I needed to be reminded of how much I could help people. No matter what the Alliance said, I was more than a human weapon. We all were. We were finally free to choose to help the people who needed it. And damn it, that’s what we’re going to do.

The Syndulla’s landing bay looked miraculously untouched for a planet occupied by the Empire. Located on the far side of the palace, the cave entrance was hidden by the large craggy rock face of the mountain range–too well disguised for the class of Imperial officers who were unfamiliar with the planet to recognize.

As Wolffe prepared the ship for landing, we noted the massive number of likely stolen ships that took up most of the space in the hangar. They all seemed to be in various states of disrepair, but nothing a few well-trained clones like ourselves couldn’t fix.

“Wonder why they don’t just use these to fight the Empire off,” she said aloud, counting the number of ships from her place on my lap.

“They don’t have the men, I’d suspect,” Gregor responded as he began shutting the ship’s engines down. “None of these are single-man fighters. Even if Howzer managed to recruit a small group of his old battalion members, that’s still not enough to go head-to-head with Imperial fighter squadrons.”

“Yeah, they wouldn’t stand a chance unless they had about six troopers manning some of these guns,” Wolffe explained, settling the ship into the hangar and stretching as he stood up. “Though the Wolfpack probably could’ve done it with less.”

I snorted, my brother’s overconfidence clouding his judgment. “I think all those craters in the surface say otherwise. They were probably lucky to escape with their lives,” I remarked, remembering the numerous times we had caused similar damage in pursuit of victory against the Separatists. The similarities made me more uncomfortable the longer I thought about it.

She narrowed her eyes, nibbling on her bottom lip as the wheels spun in her head. “It’s a good thing Twi’leks largely live underground here. That’s a huge advantage. The Empire would have to rely solely on ground assaults to make any headway,” she declared, fishing through her bag on the floor for her datapad to make notes for future briefings.

Wolffe and Gregor whipped around, their brows raised in surprise at her suggestion. They exchanged glances, and she huffed softly. She folded her arms in annoyance, her shirt pulling and exposing the tiny bulge of her belly just beginning to show signs of the life within. She was cute when she was mad, and nothing irked her more than being underestimated. “What? I pay attention in strategy meetings. I know things.” 

“Alright, Commander,” Wolffe teased, gathering his pack and slinging it over his shoulder. “We’ll talk to Syndulla and see what we’re working with. You might be onto something.” Instead of countering him with another playful insult, she smiled and nodded, probably equally surprised at his acceptance of her idea.

Gregor clapped his hands together and stepped out from behind his seat, “Well, let’s go! I’m in the mood to see what kind of welcome is in store for us. Think they’ve got any nuna here?”

“I think you’ll be lucky if you get more than a few ration sticks, Gregor,” I remarked, slinging my arm around her shoulder and kissing her temple as we followed them out of the cockpit. “You feeling better, mesh’la?”

She leaned into my side more than normal and gripped at the fabric of my blacks with need. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was trying to pull me aside for something else. “I’m ok, baby. Still a little woozy. I just need some water and, honestly, anything warm to eat. Why’d you get up before me?” she whispered, pawing at my chest and blinking up at me. I could never hide a thing from that face.

“I couldn’t sleep. That business with the Alliance…” She hummed in regret as I trailed off, looking away from me as if it was her fault they said all those things. “Just needed a talk with the boys. The kind of thing only they’d understand.”

She stopped, fiddling with the hem of her shirt and running her palm along her bump. “I’m sorry you had to listen to that. I shouldn’t have made you come with me. That was too much.” I didn’t have to see her face to know she was upset by it, too. She sniffled, trying to wipe the tears off her cheeks before I saw.

Stepping in front of her, I grabbed both her hands and brought them to rest between us before tipping her chin up. “Hey… hey… none of that now. It’s alright. I know you don’t think like they do. That’s what matters.” The hurt in her eyes perfectly reflected how I felt inside–like she could feel the pain for me. 

She balled her hands into fists then let them relax to curl her fingers into my sides, and I hugged her tight as she held onto me. “They’re wrong. You all deserved better than this. And I won’t stop reminding them of that. There’s always more I can do.”

I shook my head, shushing her quietly as I twirled a few strands of her hair around my finger. “You’re doing just fine, mesh’la. It means more to us than it ever will to anyone else. You heard what Cham said, you inspired other troopers to fight back. We may not have been able to reach the Alliance, but we are getting through to the ones who matter. Maybe now is the time we clones fight for ourselves.” I rested my chin on the top of her head, more to convince myself than her.

She pulled away, spreading her fingers on my chest and looking up at me fondly. “You know… if you keep giving speeches like that, you’re not going to need me to inspire them.” She leaned in and kissed me softly, one hand sliding up to rest on my flushed cheek. Her tongue slipped along my bottom lip and brushed delicately against mine. Though she tried to keep it brief, I could tell she wanted more as she broke away.

“If you’re looking for a reason why you survived when so many of your brothers did not… I think you’ve found it. You’re their leader. They’ll follow you anywhere. I know I will, too.” She gasped suddenly and her hands flew to her belly. “And someone else agrees,” she beamed, my hands reaching down to join hers to feel the tiny flutters of his kicks.

I knelt down in front of her, glancing up at her quickly for permission before pulling the bottom of her shirt up to speak directly to him. “Hey little bug, you think I can do it too, huh?”

I tried to imagine what it must be like to be so small but to experience life alongside both of your parents as you grow; to be along for the ride with them instead of growing alone and in silence in a sterile tube like my brothers and I had. While we would never know a bond like that, we had each other. Just like I would do anything for her and our little one, someone had to feel the same about my brothers and the birth of a new life they could have if we all just fought for it.

The little kicks under my palm solidified it. I would be the one who cared enough to free them. No matter the odds, no matter what it took. “Thanks for believing in your dad, Ad’ika. We got our family to save and we won’t let them down.” I smiled up at her, the real smile I only reserved for her, and rose again. “C’mon. We’ve gotta go, my love.”

After I’d changed into some civvies, we followed where Gregor and Wolffe had made their way down to the hold, her fingers laced reassuringly in mine. Syndulla would be out to greet us any second and hopefully reunite us with more of our renegade brothers. 

I could only imagine what Howzer would say about meeting my pregnant girlfriend for the first time in the middle of a warzone. Though she’d be quick to point out that nothing would stop her from fighting alongside us.

Gregor and Wolffe waited by the open docking ramp, watching for signs of anyone coming to greet us. We pushed past them and made our way down into the hangar platform just as the blast doors opened up to reveal not Syndulla himself, but my little brother.

“Well if it ain't the quacta calling the stifling slimy…” Howzer folded his arms as his gaze bounced between us, halting just a few feet away.

Howzer’s armor needed a fresh coat of teal green paint, the chest plate and shoulder pauldrons more faded and cracked than he would ever allow under normal circumstances, but his signature hair was still perfect. While the rest of our batch and I had always shaved our hair down to nothing, Howzer had grown his out–somehow still managing to look the most put-together. He had always been the most creative of us, and even when we’d given him shit for it, he’d never allowed his armor to look dull or his hair to fall flat.

“Aren’t you supposed to be an Imperial now?” I joked darkly, mirroring his stance and narrowing my eyes.

Howzer scowled dramatically, pointing his finger at me and grumbling, “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” He carefully studied my face now, taking in the state of me alive and well after all reports had me as good as dead. Before I could reply, he leapt forward and embraced me tightly, the relief melting the tension away. He had always been my most sensitive kih’vod and never liked to feel alone, even before we left the blank white halls of Kamino.

I wrapped my arms around him and held tight, communicating all the unspoken pain of trauma and loss during this war in one embrace. “I’m happy to see you too, Vod. Wish it was under better circumstances.” I pulled back, resting my hand on his shoulder and shaking him loose.

“I didn’t want to believe the reports. They couldn’t have gotten you. I’m glad my gut feeling was right, but why all the secrecy?” he asked, turning to look over my shoulder at the crew just behind me. “And how’d you manage to spring Commander Grouch from the Citadel?”

Wolffe growled, “I freed myself, thank you very much. Those bucket-head new troopers were no match for me. I never even made it to my cell.”

Gregor giggled, amused by Wolffe’s constant insults of the men he’d been forced to train. “Bucket-heads… that’s a good one, Wolffe. To be clear, he saved us and decided to tag along. I’m Gregor, by the way. Special Ops.”

Howzer shrugged, impressed at what we had managed to accomplish while still making it out in one piece. “So you snagged yourself a Commando, too. It’s just like you, blondie, to bring people together like this. Guess that’s why the general felt you were the man for the job.”

“Guess so. That and I’ve got a hell of a motivator here.” I cocked my head in her direction, Howzer’s eyes noticeably widening as he sized her up. “She’s the one whose message your men heard.” I beckoned for her to join me and she stepped beside us, holding her hand out to Howzer.

“I just told the truth, no need to thank me for advocating for all clones the way the galaxy should’ve done a long time ago. It also helps when you’ve been in love with one for nearly 4 years.” Her smile widened, eyes softening with the gentle fondness I’d come to know from her all this time. 

I tucked her into me and felt her grip tighten on my side again. Needy. Just as I thought, but no one else would have noticed. She stood tall and confident, the same way she did when she spoke to the Alliance. I couldn’t have been more proud to have her lead beside me and hoped all my brothers loved her the way I did. 

Howzer studied her and the way she held me more intently, “Wait–so you’re his…?” He connected the dots in his head, his eyes wild with realization. “Damn, Rex. No wonder it’s been so long. You’ve been busy.” 

“You have no idea,” Gregor and Wolffe chortled in unison as she turned around to argue with them playfully.

“Well, I can’t say I blame him. You’re stunning,” Howzer complimented bluntly, arching a brow at me and smirking. “Probably too good-looking for him, cyar’ika,” he added, taking her free hand again and pressing a polite kiss to her knuckles.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes and looking over his shoulder at the door he’d come out of. “Alright, alright. Let’s get inside and you can all take turns clowning me later.”

“Erm… right. Well, the General’s probably just finishing his strategy meeting with his resistance leaders. Normally the Twi’leks like to throw banquets for guests, but there aren’t enough rations for anything extravagant right now. They are still planning to have you all meet everyone. The boys and I managed to scrounge up some leftover ration biscuits, the little green ones,” Howzer explained as he started toward the door, the rest of us falling into step behind him.

Gregor groaned loudly, the sound of his grumbling belly was loud enough to keep us all up at night. “I could crush about 20 of them right now. I’m starving.” We’d been running low enough on supplies that snacking mid-day was no longer an option, especially since she had to eat for two.

“How about fresh nerf stew and we save the rations for when we really need them?” a pleasant, accented voice called out from just down the hall. As we stepped past the blast door frame, a tall, elegant, green Twi’lek woman revealed herself, peeking out of a large room several doors away. She glanced at each of us briefly, likely taking stock of how much she could spare for each of us. “Howzer, dear, bring our guests into the hall with Cham and the others. We will bring everything out to you.”

“Yes, Eleni. Right away.” Howzer saluted her formally. Clearly, he respected her as equal to the general, so she must’ve been his wife. “The squad’s probably anxious to see you, too.” He herded us to the door just ahead of the one she’d peeked out of, and we disappeared into another hallway just as we heard her calling out in Twi’leki.

“How have your men been holding up since everything happened, Brother?” I asked, letting the other three take the lead down the long stone hallway.

“Not well, I’m afraid. There were no Jedi stationed on Ryloth, luckily, but we heard the chatter all over every comm channel. At first, we followed the Empire without question. What was the difference, you know?” He sighed deeply and mournfully as he recalled the time before the Free Ryloth movement had been able to gather enough force to push the Empire back. “Then things changed. Things stopped making sense. The chain of command stopped listening to us clones, started demanding we do things…” Howzer closed his eyes, shuddering and taking a deep breath.

“Things you knew weren’t right,” I finished, following his story to the same conclusion as all the rest now. “You had to make a decision for your men and the people you protected all these years.” I slung my arm over his shoulder, reassuring him the best way I could.

“Yeah, Rex. I did what I had to. I laid my weapons down and disobeyed orders because they went against the people I swore to protect. The Bad Batchers were here, too, and they helped us figure out what to do. Especially one of your old boys, Echo.” Howzer smiled, stopping in his tracks and looking up through a skylight in the cave ceiling. “A lot of my men defected that day and we’ve never looked back.”

I watched my little brother feeling the light hit him, maybe for the very first time. Though he’d been aged and weathered by the brewing storm of the constant battle for justice, he’d made the right choice. He saved his men, he saved his people, and he saved himself. We were all good men deep down and no mandated order would ever change that.

“I’m proud of you, Howzer. You did what many of our brothers could not. You saw a better way. That’s why we’re here now. We can do the same thing again for so many of our brothers who just need to see the way out. The chips forced us to act, but they cannot change who we are. My squad is planning on rescuing more clones if we can, but we’re going to need as much help as we can get. After this mission, are you in?” I asked gently, knowing that pulling him away from his duty to his people was a tall ask.

Howzer closed his eyes and bowed his head, running his fingers through his dark hair. When he opened them again the fire of determination that I saw in myself had sparked for him too. “I thought you’d never ask.” He reached out his hand and clasped it with mine tightly to signal a deal well struck. “I’m beside you always. My men will be on board, too.”

“We have to talk about removing their chips. It might be a little difficult here since things are so remote,” I thought aloud, moving to scratch at the healed scar along my hairline. “It’s the safest thing to do to make sure we can never be compromised like that again.”

Howzer moved to flank me, inspecting where the chip had been removed from me and wincing as he imagined having to cut through his hair to do it. “Yeah, I expected that. I’ll talk to the general and see what we can do. He’s got to know of a medical station somewhere around here. Twi’leks are a little more holistic than the Republic–they use healing herbs and careful doses of spice at times.”

We picked up our pace toward the banquet room, Howzer explaining more about what his men had been experiencing since the order happened. Nasty, brutal things. Some of his men reacted the usual way with blind fits of anger and lashing out at anyone not loyal to the Empire. Others experienced debilitating migraines or seizures from fighting so hard against the inhibitor chip to keep their consciousness. A few had even died, their brains having huge aneurysms from the overload of information the chip was programming into their minds.

I remembered not liking how it felt to have my mind taken over, but Ahsoka knocking me out and intervening likely saved me from enduring any of the after-effects that lots of clones seemed to be experiencing. Microdoses of spice and proper rest in a hangar locked away from Twi’leks or other brothers had allowed the more severe cases to run their course until the worst of it had died down. 

Howzer didn’t know exactly why he had never suffered quite as intensely as the rest of his men, but the best he could figure is that older clones seemed to have stronger willpower to resist their chip’s effects. However, full removal remained the only surefire guarantee that the nightmare would end.

Upon our entry to the banquet hall, we found the entirety of Cham’s protected population sitting in a large circle along the walls of a massive vaulted cavern held up by stone pillars. Some of Howzer’s men mingled among the Twi’leks while others huddled in sequestered groups, but I could feel their curious eyes on us. 

In the middle of the crowd, a group of Twi’lek men and women of every skin color imaginable performed an elaborate, lithe dance set to the thrumming rhythm of echoing steel drums. Not far from us, Cham sat with two of his advisors and a green Twi’lek child in a small alcove adorned with knit patterned tapestries and hand-painted drawings in bright pigments.

“Captain, welcome!” Cham called from his seat, beckoning our group forward. He raised his hands as he stood, and the dancing and drumming ceased. “My people! Tonight we welcome our new guests. They have come to help us retake our planet with their brothers. With their assistance, Ryloth will be free once again!”

The crowd erupted into cheers for a moment before the drums and dancing started up again, and somewhere in the chaos, my beloved was stolen away by Cham’s wife. Normally, I’d have been anxious to be parted from her, but the smile she tossed at me over her shoulder as she disappeared into the crowd put me at ease. Howzer and I took two of the remaining seat cushions beside Cham, while Gregor and Wolffe sat just behind us, cross-legged on plushy floor cushions. 

No sooner had we sat down than we were served the nerf stew we had been promised. Gregor sipped his portion down as if he hadn’t eaten in a week, but Wolffe’s mismatched eyes were fixed on the twists and turns of the women performing. If I followed his gaze, I could guess that the lovely red-skinned Twi’lek woman making eyes in his direction had caught his attention. Their behavior felt more normal than either of them had been in a long time, and I smiled to myself as they both seemed to enjoy the celebration.

“This was more welcome than we needed, General. You didn’t have to do all this,” I explained humbly, taking a cup of some kind of juice from a blue Twi’lek woman adorned in knit fabric far too revealing to be practical.

“Nonsense. You are guests, and it is customary for us to greet you in this way. It brings my people joy to celebrate what makes us special during times of strife.” Cham closed his eyes solemnly and massaged his temple with his right hand.

I glanced around the hall at the tired faces somehow able to find happiness to lend to others, even if only briefly. It was inspiring that their resolve hadn’t been broken, even through insurmountable odds. They truly were proud, determined people, and fighting alongside them would be incredibly rewarding if we managed to make any headway. I could see why Howzer was so hellbent on refusing to hurt the culture that had so graciously accepted him as one of their own.

Still, it was hard for me to relax knowing what we needed to accomplish. I was used to diligent planning and hours-long strategy meetings to prepare for missions of this magnitude. I could feel my mind racing with battle maneuvers and military strategy as the rest of the crowd enjoyed themselves.

Gregor and Wolffe were talking amongst themselves, glancing every so often at a group of women who were making eye contact and giggling whenever the two clones looked their way. That same red Twi’lek that had been dancing was among them now, and she kept shooting cheeky grins at them. They had been surrounded by clones for years, but recent bias must’ve made the two brothers look irresistible. I rolled my eyes playfully, knowing where that was probably going, and trying to distract myself from thinking about what I wanted to do to my mesh’la if I was ever able to locate her.

I shook the enticing image of her wearing some of the clothes the performers had on from my mind and turned toward Cham again. “General, when will we meet to strategize with your leaders? I have some ideas and–”

“Rex… relax. We have arranged a strategy meeting for tomorrow morning. We can talk about battle then. For now, enjoy a moment’s respite. Your partner understands…” he laughed, motioning at the same group of women who had been drooling over my brothers and suddenly finding her at the center of them.

I didn’t know if it was the aura from the cavern's skylights or the reflection of candlelight glittering off jewels hanging from the walls, but I was overcome by the sight of her glowing and laughing among them. Seeing her enjoying herself as the party wore on made my battle-anxious mind relax. To me, she was the most beautiful person here, and I smiled softly to myself as she finally made eye contact with me.

Her smile was soft and reverent, making her look every bit as stoic, classy, and put-together as she always carried herself among colleagues. Yet, I recognized the fire and lust simmering in the depth of her gaze.

She’d been overly needy all day, pawing and pulling at me at every chance she got, and something about the way she looked at me signaled that she was feeling a deep, magnetic desire. Her libido had always been powerful since the very first day I met her, but this look was something entirely different–maddeningly desperate and practically begging for me to whisk her away to have my way with her. It was all but confirmed as her eyes darkened and her tongue slipped out to wet her lips.

My own lust prickled down my spine and settled in my core, exacerbated by the floating aroma of incense and spice hanging thickly in the air. It took everything in me not to leap from my position and drag her to a quiet, dark corner of the palace. Before I could move an inch, she got lost in the circle of Twi’lek girls again, and I choked down my fantasies until I could get her alone.

I turned to the little girl seated beside Cham and asked for a small bowl of stew to be passed my way. She smiled earnestly and brought it over to me quickly, including another cup of the tart juice they all seemed to enjoy. 

“If you’re a Captain… does that mean you used to fly in big starships?” she asked eagerly, her little green head-tails twirling together in excitement. 

She reminded me of another bright-eyed, inquisitive young girl who never stopped asking me questions. Though the memories of a small, orange Jedi padawan bursting with excitement and eagerness for battle experience seemed so long ago.

“Yeah, kid. I flew on Venators and Acclamators lots of times. They’re not as fun as personal starships, though. I was never really that great of a pilot,” I shrugged, laughing to myself as I remembered all the times General Skywalker pointed out ways I could improve my starfighter piloting skills. I had gently reminded him that some of us had spent a lot less time being ten years old than he had.

“Well, I’m going to be one someday. Howzer says I’m already pretty good, but I’ll be the best in the galaxy,” she rambled excitedly, pulling a pair of haphazardly constructed flight goggles from the pocket of her leather jacket.

“Hera, come. Leave the men in peace, your mother wants you in bed soon,” Cham ordered, apologizing silently as he whisked her away behind him. “Apologies. She’s still learning.”

“That’s alright. I’ve got a lot to learn too,” I replied, the second part muttered more to myself than anyone else. Cham stared at me quizzically as he tried to figure out what I meant when we were interrupted by a group of women approaching our alcove. Slowly, they parted and my bold cyar’ika guided three of them toward where Gregor and Wolffe sat, eyes glued to the girls instead of the performance.

“Boys, this is Noola, Ryloo, and Zeeta. Ladies, this is Wolffe and Gregor. You won’t find better men to keep you company. You can take my word for it.” She turned and winked at me suggestively, Cham looking at me and chuckling to himself. I felt my face get hot with embarrassment and I took a sip of my drink to calm my nerves.

The three women parted from the group and approached my brothers. Zeeta, the red Twi’lek whose bright green eyes had been on us all night, made her way over to Wolffe. She began running her fingers along his shoulder pauldron and whispering something in his ear that made his brows raise instantly. His hand shot out to grab her by the waist and pull her down on his thigh. They took turns exchanging words, and his hand settled at the exposed small of her back.

At the same time, the other two women–Noola, who was bright purple, and Ryloo, a soft green–joined Gregor on either side, kneeling beside him and curling their arms around his biceps. Gregor lit up like a supernova, his irresistible charm instantly pulling the girls into him like a magnet. They listened to him talk and giggled in unison at all his jokes, genuinely finding him as delightful as he claimed women always did.

My attention was turned toward my partner who had reached her hand down to pull me up to my feet. “See? I told them I’d work something out. They should be well taken care of until morning.” 

Pulling her close, I ran my palm up her back, pressing her into me to both feel her and to possessively let the whole group know who I was with. I leaned down to whisper teasingly in her ear, “Does that mine I get you all to myself tonight?” Had we not been in such a public setting, I would’ve laved my tongue and lips along her neck, but that would have to be for later. “Can I take you away now?”

She moaned more than sighed, the lust overwhelming her and making her tremble in my grasp. “Please.” She rested both hands on my chest and stole a glance at my lips like she wanted to be consumed by the need building between us. “Please, Rex. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

—

The guest quarters in Cham Syndulla’s family palace were nicer than anything I’d ever stayed in. The old sandstone structure was built to blend with a large network of massive caverns on Ryloth’s naturally rocky terrain. Cham was kind enough to give Rex and me the larger of the three rooms, while both Gregor and Wolffe seemed more than content with whatever room could accommodate their new company for tonight.

It was like a private villa. Our own living space with jewel-toned chaise lounges and a carved marble table that was etched with a retelling of Ryloth’s thousand-year history. Normally a large banquet-style feast would be held on a table like this, but given the circumstances, there wasn’t nearly enough food to constitute a feast. Nonetheless, Cham’s wife, Eleni, had been kind enough to bake fresh bread and leave a few pieces of fruit beside it on the center of the table. 

It was customary for Twi’leks from Ryloth to give to their visitors as a friendly extension of their hospitality, but Eleni seemed to be offering this out of more than just custom. She had watched my movements the entire night, taking notice of the way I avoided any of the alcoholic refreshments at the celebration, and kept a firm, almost needy hold on Rex as we were welcomed into a strange place.

When Rex and I entered the bathroom off of the guest bedroom, I knew that Eleni had figured it out. On the shelves and counters of the natural hot spring bathroom were dozens of soothing oils, medicinal herbs, and healing serums specifically for expectant mothers. I turned to Rex in shock, in enough disbelief that he thought I may have been accusing him of spilling our secret.

He shook his head and chuckled, “I promise, I haven’t said a thing to her. Seems like she just knows. Mother’s intuition maybe. You know she and Cham have little ones,” he reassured me, his warm hand on my lower back instantly soothing a particular spot that had been bothering me now for a few days. I closed my eyes and sighed at the contact, Rex moving to massage the spot a little more. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my already burning arousal ignite even more.

The last few days had seen the hormone levels in my body skyrocket out of control, which I knew would hit me eventually. Sometimes this resulted in anger or irritability that I had to do my best to tamp down around the guys. Other times it resulted in what I felt now–pure, unfiltered, and unbearable lust. Even just watching Rex’s broad shoulders rise and fall as he breathed would set me off now. The pool of heat that collected at my center would pound and throb until something was done to quell the desire; a side effect that Rex was more than enjoying. 

In this moment, the muggy steam of the hot spring combined with Rex’s touch on my body made my toes curl. I felt my nipples bud and the space between my thighs dampen with an overwhelming need for him. I took in a deep breath, opening my eyes to let out a slow sigh, one with enough allure to get his attention. “Rex.” I whispered, turning my face to look up at him desperately. What started as an innocent reassuring of his presence had suddenly become so much more than that.

Rex perked up, his sly smirk curling his pretty, plush lips at the corners and his brow arching with intrigue. “Did I do something, mesh’la?” He asked, pretending he was blissfully unaware of my body’s reaction to him. “Because I know that sound… and I know what usually comes with it,” he teased, his arm slowly circling my side to pull him into me.

“You...” I gulped, his body heat beginning to join the long list of sensations I was feeling taking over me. “You did and are doing something to me. Did you seal the door to our bedroom?” I asked with shaky breaths as his familiar musky, woodsy, lived-in scent began to flood around me.

He chuckled deeply, and I felt the vibration heavily in my chest that was just painfully aching for touch. “Yes, I did. Not that, that was going to stop us, right?” he muttered, flicking off the lights and letting the skylight in the cavern ceiling illuminate the space now. 

“Nothing is going to stop me right now,” I admitted through gritted teeth. I rested my hands on the counter and looked up at my reflection in the mirror, a dark shade of lust overtaking me as I watched Rex butt himself up behind me. He slotted his chin into the space just below my jaw, both his arms now wrapping around my waist.

He peppered small, intimate kisses on my skin, now coated in a sheen of humidity and sweat, and emitted a determined, raspy groan, “Sounds like a challenge, pretty girl. Think I can help?” 

Suddenly, he licked a long stripe up the corded vein in my neck and I gasped, my blood pulsing faster as my heart raced with anticipation, overheating me with desire. 

“Talk to me, cyar’ika. Need me to make you feel good?” Rex asked against the shell of my ear, beginning to work at the clothes keeping my bare skin from his.

“Please, gods yes, Rex. It’s unbearable… I feel like I’m on fire. Everywhere,” I whimpered, meeting his nimble fingers at the hem and helping him pull off my top in one gesture. My chest erupted from it, swollen breasts and pebbled nipples reacting dramatically to the change in temperature.

Rex let out a satisfied grunt, making eye contact with me in the mirror as his calloused hands moved to cup them. He kneaded them carefully, kissing my jaw and pressing them together to make me writhe at the contact.

“There… that a little better? You are fucking perfect… tits getting so big. You’re spoiling me. Just look at how pretty you are. Just when I thought you couldn’t be any more fucking beautiful… you just had to go and take hold of some of me,” he whimpered playfully, watching my eyes hood closed as he rolled one nipple between his fingers and spread his other hand over the growing swell of my bump.

“Yes… that’s good–oh fuck, Rex…” I mewled, melting into his touch as he caressed any part of my torso he could get his hands on. “Everything about you right now is driving me crazy.” I moved my hands to grip his arm, trying to spur him into going a little lower where the unrelenting pounding was taking root.

“Tell you what… how about I get all this off, we both get in that hot spring tub and I touch wherever you need me to. Sound good, my love?” he offered, his hands slipping past the waistband of my bottoms to begin tugging them down my thighs. He paused as he leaned down to help me step out of my pants and turned me to take one of my breasts in his calloused hand, his tongue flicking over the nipple and making me whine at the contact.

“Rex! Strip and get me in that spring before I faint. I’m–ah!–so sensitive right now… everything you’re doing feels so good it hurts,” I explained, my hand flying up to support the back of his head and tugging at his blonde curls gently. I smiled happily at the rush of pleasure racing to my core. With my pants and underwear around my ankles, he released my breast with a lewd pop and used this momentary break to step back and glance over me.

“Fuck–bend over,” he ordered, pulling his shirt off his back and tossing it into the pile of clothes on the floor.

I obliged, leaning onto the counter and pressing my enlarged breasts into the cool stone.. I shivered as his hands softly traced down the dips in my back, pulling both sides of my ass apart to get a good look at my center. He chuffed softly, running a fingertip up my inner thigh. 

“You’re so wet it’s dripping down your thighs, mesh’la.” He collected it on his digits and popped a finger into his mouth, groaning in delight as he stepped out of his pants. “Get in there before I take you right fucking here,” he instructed with a playful slap to my right cheek.

I spun around to give him a once over and bit my lip at the sight of his growing length. “You know that’s why I’m like this… you’re sexy,” I giggled, my gaze flicking down to the part of him I knew better than anyone and smirking teasingly. 

Rex shook his head and stepped forward, resting his hands on my hip bones as he walked us both over to the steaming hot pool. “And that mouth of yours is why I’m like this.” He laughed, lifting me up and helping me step in. The water wasn’t much of a relief, the simmering warmth wrapping around my already overheated body as I settled down in it.

Steam plumed upwards off the glimmering pool's surface, now broken as it swirled around my every curve. I sat back, dunking my shoulders under the warmth and relishing in the sensation of water rippling around me.

Rex followed behind, his large biceps caging me in as he dragged my body back into his broad chest. I tipped my head back to rest on his shoulder, grabbing his forearm curling around me protectively. His body brushing against mine in any facet was making me tremble with an excitement I hadn’t felt since the first time we slept together.

He reached up to hold my chin in his fingers, leaning over to press our lips together and roll his tongue along mine slowly. Every gasping inhale was like breathing in pure arousal, making me moan in his mouth as it dissolved into pleasure spreading throughout my body. I broke the kiss, my jaw slack and my chest heaving as more heat rolled down to drip into my core. He buried his face in the space behind my ear, brushing my hair aside and speaking filth in deep whispers. “Where do you need me, ner mesh’la? I’m here for you.”

“Everywhere. Anywhere. Just want to feel you on me. Know you’re there,” I gasped, feeling his laugh behind my back as he relished in my desperation for him. He ghosted his knuckles over my cheekbone affectionately to remind me what this was all for before he eased his palms down my shoulders.

“Always here. For both of you. I promise,” he muttered, his hands coming to rest on my belly. “You’re so fucking strong,” he breathed, bumping my jaw with his nose, kissing along my pulse point, and letting his touch travel back up to my breasts. “So resilient, bold, smart… carrying my little one and looking so beautiful. I am the luckiest man alive, and I am proud to call you mine.” He paused between words to suck at the soft skin on my neck, hard enough to break blood vessels and distract me from the tension in my core.

He wasn’t doing anything to break the tension, but his words were slowing the rhythm, allowing me to focus on something else besides the overwhelming need tearing my body apart. I blushed as if his words were more intimate and exposing than being laid bare before him. “Is this supposed to make me want to fuck you less? Because you’re not accomplishing that very well with flattery.”

“If you’re feeling sane enough to be bratty, then I’d say it’s working.” He nipped my collarbone softly, making me jump and slap his arm playfully. “Smart mouth. Let me catch up to you and then we’ll see how much you feel like talking.” His cock twitched against my back, his love of being in charge was always the fastest way to turn him on. I moved to rest my head on his shoulder, letting him look into my eyes as he touched me.

His firm grip on my breasts made my breath hitch in my chest, his devilish smirk and fire igniting in his doting gaze signaled that he knew exactly what he was doing trying to light me up again, but slowly this time. “I want to fuck these so bad… you’re a dream for a boobs guy like me, you know? Gonna let me do that someday soon, pretty girl?” He flicked my nipple with his index finger, the bud pebbling up and making static erupt beneath his touch.

I swallowed hard, my hips bucking in response and my backside rubbing against his cock gently. “Fuck–mmmmm… mhmm. Can do whatever you want to me. You know that,” I groaned in frustration, wishing he would sink himself as deep inside me as I craved. The water encircling us both rippled and swirled around with our every movement, the blistering heat adding just another layer of pleasure to my already overwhelmed body. 

“I do,” He muttered softly. “I’ve got a whole list of things I know you like. Using binders, riding my cock, being edged… oh, you love that, don't you?” His listing every profane memory we had together was making the pressure in my core throb even more, and he knew it. The longer he worked me up, the better and more satisfying the result would be later on. Rex was more than a pro at this by now.

“Aren’t those all things you like?” I shot back, reaching to grip his muscular sides and dig my nails into his flesh. I could feel his heart beating into my back, racing to keep up with the desire rushing through his veins. 

He dipped down, his lips pressed to my collarbone softly trailing along the length of it carefully while his fingers pulled and tugged at both nipples. “‘Course. Especially with you,” he smirked against my skin. “Now are you going to tell me what you need? What feels good?” he whispered, his stubble tickling me as his jaw worked to place kisses following his every word.

I huffed impatiently, whimpering as he slid out from behind me, warm water swirling in to take his place. “Rex… you know what I want. You know where I need you.” I inhaled sharply as he interrupted my complaints with his lips wrapped around my nipple, his tongue swirling across the node. He hummed in a mix of pleasure and amusement, his expertise when it came to me enough to make him a little bit cocky.

“I know, mesh’la. But now you’ve got me all riled up, too, and you look far too pretty like this for me to give in this easily.” He looked up, guiding himself back up my body and tipping my chin up between his fingers. “I want to run my fingers through you, taste you, and fuck that pretty pussy until that ache goes away. I’ll do anything for my perfect girl.”

I couldn’t contain the wide smile that spread across my face. “I love you.” I leaned in to capture his lips with mine, passionately entwining us as the pressure became too much for me not to act on. I rocked into him and he sat back again, spreading my legs as I eased onto the width of his thigh.

His gaze trailed up my body, watching the delight on my face as I began chasing my pleasure by grinding against him. He huffed softly, his palm resting on the small of my back to maneuver me gently. “Feels good, huh?” His opposite hand smoothed up the curve of my side and messaged my breast. “You look so beautiful. Even when you’re being such a fucking tease.”

I smiled, both as a playfully bold response to his words and because the slowly building friction on my clit was finally starting to slightly soothe the ache. I glanced down at where his cock throbbed against my thigh, and I wrapped my hand lightly around him. “Oh please, you clearly love being teased, Captain.”

He hissed softly, his fingertips tracing up my spine as he tucked me further into his torso. “Then tease, mesh’la. Overwhelm me,” he whispered seductively, following it with a throaty moan that made my head spin. 

The sticky skin-to-skin contact had us both entranced in the simmering tension. When I moved my hips against his thigh, I brushed his cock gently. Every movement from one affected the other until we were so wound tight with pleasure teetering on the edge between us that we couldn’t take it anymore.

Rex’s kisses slid hot and wet against my steam-covered skin and every buck of my hips sent him slipping over to some untouched part of me. Pleasure pricked every exposed inch of my skin, and his soft moans and words of encouragement spurred things faster. All we did was rub, touch, and writhe until both of us were whipped into a tantalizing frenzy. His weighted palms traveled up my back, into my hair, down my sides, and on top of my thighs, and I gripped his biceps to hold myself steady against him.

I was far too impatient to keep up this pace with the powerful rush of imbalanced hormones fueling me, so I dug into his shoulder and relaxed into his lap, easing over to center myself on top of him. “Take me, Rex. Now… right now,” I begged, resting my hands on either side of his face and forcing his eyes up to meet mine.

A filthy, devilish smirk split his lips and we were in the air in one swift motion. He supported me in one hand and splashed us out of the hot spring. Making his way over to a tall mirrored wall, he reached over to the counter and grabbed one of the natural oils that had been left for us to use. He set me on my feet in front of my reflection and laid a few towels below to cushion us before sitting down. “C’mere mesh’la.” 

I followed, seating myself between his thighs and tipping my head back to watch his beautiful eyes. With one hand he screwed the top off the slightly spicy-scented oil and tipped it into his palm. He guided his other hand to gently wrap around my neck and swallowed my whispered moan of his name in a kiss.

My reflection in the mirror was a sight; my hair was a tousled mess from where he’d gripped it earlier, my eyes blown out with maddening lust so powerful it made my vision blurry, and my lips swollen from passionate kisses. His deep, mesmerizing brown gaze was fixed on me in the mirror, and my naked, dripping body was now shining in oil and covered in slight purple bruises–ones he always smoothed over with a roll of his tongue. 

“Look at me. I want you to watch what I do to you.” One of his oil-covered hands turned my face to look into the mirror while the other traveled down my belly, over my hip, and turned inward as he grazed my thigh. “Do you like being so filthy for me?” he groaned softly in my ear as I writhed in his slippery grip, cocking an eyebrow and prompting me for an answer.

I dipped my head down and suckled his thumb into my mouth, not caring about the slick sensation of the tasteless oil on my tongue. I felt him shudder behind me as he watched the plush of my lips encircle his thick digit, but before I had a chance to tease him with my tongue, he pried my mouth open and held me there. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”

“Mhmm. I love to watch you work me up, to feel your hands on me and your cock ready for me, Captain. You can’t resist me when I’m bold,” I giggled, and he rewarded my response with another laving warm pass of his tongue in the space beneath my ear. “I want your fingers,” I whined as his hands pushed my thighs apart painfully slowly.

“I know you do. I can feel how much you want me, mesh’la. You impatient little minx… you want my fingers in the heat of your gorgeous pussy,” he muttered, his index finger tracing the most deliberate and agonizingly slow circle on my clit. I tipped my head back as a moan ripped through me, my breasts rising and falling as I tried to catch my breath to keep up with his pace. “Fuuuck… you’re wet.” A wry, suggestive smirk reached his eyes, smoldering with passion while he watched my hypersensitive body react.

“It’s torture. B-but it feels… feels so good. More, baby. More. Want you inside. Rex, I want–” A truly indecent thought came to mind as my hormone-fueled lust overtook my sanity. I brought my knees higher, angling my center for a perfect view in the mirror and watching myself unfold illicitly. Rex’s cock throbbed into my back at the sight of me presenting myself so willingly and obscenely for his taking. He whimpered quietly, his mind probably running three steps ahead in his fantasy, knowing he’d be the only one to ever see me this way.

“What do you want, my pretty girl? Hmm? What can I do to make you mine all over again?” he asked with renewed desperation. Even he was beginning to lose self-control in this compromised position.

“Hold me open. Make me watch myself come on your fingers, Rex, please,” I begged, my hole contracting involuntarily as my arousal took on a life of its own. I watched his eyes roll back in delight, his circling touch on my clit inching ever closer to my aching core. “Now. Please!” I begged again, curling my fingers around his wrist settled between my legs.

“Oh, fuck–mesh’la… like this?” His lips latched onto my neck, his eyes glued to where he let his thumb and middle finger hold my slick folds open. 

My breathing stuttered as a rush of cool air blew chills through my heat and made my entrance flex. More slick dripped down to glisten in my slit, making Rex let out an audible and sinful moan.

 “Look at you… look how much your pretty pussy needs it. You need my cock so fucking bad.”

I could do nothing but hold onto his wrist with one hand and hold myself upright in position with the other. Rex’s fingertips rubbed through the wetness coating me from his drawn-out torture, and the two thickest digits on his opposite hand slipped through my soaked opening with ease. I cried out, a high-pitched, melodic whine filling the cavernous refresher room, and it made Rex emit a low grunt to harmonize with mine beautifully. “Rex, oh yes… that’s it.”

“Yeah? Does that help, ner mesh’la? You’re wound tight, but you’re doing so well for me.” He gently pressed his fingers within me to the knuckle and flexed them against my wet, collapsing walls. With his chest pressed against my back and biceps wrapped around me, he trapped me in the perfect comfort of his grasp. Slowly, he hooked his ankles over mine, holding my legs in place to prevent me from squirming while he worked my insides into a frenzy.

I could barely form words as the molten heat inside me boiled over into his hands. Each curl of his fingertips into the plush of my core made desire sear hotter in my lower belly, and the recoil was so strong it made me arch my back and buck my hips into him for more. I bit my lip to hold back screams that would only carry the sound of his name into the echoing cavern. “Rex, yes. Yes, that helps. F-fuck it's so good, baby. Deeper. Mmmf, you’re so… so good with your hands.”

A cocky smirk drew against my jaw as he padded up against the front of my walls, and I let out a strangled yelp. “I know,” he cooed, nuzzling my cheek with the bridge of his nose to urge me to keep my eyes on the mirror. “Watch, mesh’la. Gonna make you cum just like this. Then I’ll let you lick it off my fingers while I take you apart with my cock. How’s that sound?” 

He slid his fingers out painfully slowly, the wet shlicking sound making him groan. A thin trail of my wetness connected me to the space between his fingers. His hot exhales fanned my cheek as he rested his temple against mine, leaning in every so often to dot sloppy kisses along my sweat-slick skin.

“Yes, Rex. That’s p-perfect. Exactly what I need. You always know. Know me so well, my love.”

I reached behind to dig my fingers into his lengthening blonde curls, leaning him into a weighted, desperate kiss. Saliva slid sticky and sweet between our twisting tongues, and I moaned into his mouth as he curled two fingers back inside me. He relentlessly pressed up on that delightfully sensitive spongy spot at the shallow front of my walls and flicked at my clit with the pad of his thumb. I broke the kiss to inhale sharply, gazing back at my reflection in the mirror while the squelching sounds of him finger fucking me got louder and more obscene. 

He sucked at the juncture of my neck and jaw and swore incoherently as I began to spasm around him. “You’re so close. Can feel it, almost there. Little more. You can do it. Cum for me… all over me. C’mon, ner mesh’la,” he encouraged, maneuvering his wrist faster and increasing the unbearable pressure to a level I could no longer take. 

“Rex! I’m gonna–REX!” Heat drained down my body and released at my core, the ensnaring warmth having nowhere to go but out as my walls collapsed around his thick fingers. 

“There you go… oh, yes, fuck–look at that. That’s my good girl,” he rasped, his palm, wrist, and forearm drenched in my release. I trembled as the pleasure burst through me, desperate high-pitched moans swallowed by his all-consuming kisses. The pleasure was like an endless wave rolling through me, taking its time ripping through the agonizing carnal desire that had been plaguing me all day. 

Rex’s powerful legs against mine held me open as I watched my opening ripple obscenely. He whispered tender words of adoration as the tension wracking my frame finally started to recede. “My girl… so gorgeous when she cums for me. Let it all out just for me. I know how to make you feel so good, don’t I? Is that what my love does to you? Made this pretty little pussy all mine already.”

I panted and muttered soft agreements, letting my body collapse back into his and feeling his arms wrap protectively around me. “How… did you do… that?” I gasped, giggling as he kissed tears of ecstasy off my cheeks. My fingers laced with his on my belly, and I rubbed up against his cock, wet precum definitely smearing along the small of my back.

“I’m good with my hands, remember?” he teased, walking his fingers up my torso until they were enticingly dangling in front of my lips. 

I tipped my head back on his shoulder and laughed as I tried to catch my breath. My eyes followed his gaze in the mirror, seductively admiring the sight of me naked, sweaty, and writhing against him. 

“Now clean up this mess you made before I split you apart this time.” He offered his fingers, brushing them against my lower lip and coating it with my own slick.

I swirled my tongue around his middle digit and suckled it inside the wet cavern of my mouth. I swallowed the sweet tang of my release and wrapped my lips around him tightly, mimicking what I’d do to his cock if it wasn’t inconveniently positioned behind me. He was way too far gone already to last that kind of torture by now anyways. I could feel him slotted between my cheeks, pounding and anxiously waiting for his turn to feel bliss. 

Slowly, I sat forward, lifting my hips and teasing him with either side of my ass. He grunted, tipping his head down to watch himself slide slickly between me. I popped off his fingers lewdly and his hand immediately captured my hip bone, starting to maneuver my center to his liking. “Want me to ride you, Captain? Just like this? Now that I’m all soaked and ready for your cock?” I teased devilishly, dragging my nails up his thighs and grinning wickedly at him in the mirror.

“Oh yeah, I do. Mesh’la, I want to fuck you so bad and watch you bounce on me… so fucking hot,” Rex rasped, his gravelly tone dropping harshly as his lust overtook him. Deep moans spread through his chest as his hands explored what he could only see through our reflections. He pressed my tits together roughly, kneading them in both his strong hands as I twisted my bottom half against his rock-hard cock.

“You want this pussy, Captain?” I mocked, lifting my hips up just enough to slide his cock between my drenched lips explicitly. He moaned my name in confirmation and his hands gripped at the plush of my hips to move me faster. “Then come and take what’s already yours, Rex,” I offered, slowing my rolling hips as his tip neared my entrance. “Show me why you own me.”

In seconds, Rex thrust himself inside, pushing my swollen walls apart again with a loud shout. I threw my head back and my jaw dropped, the width of his throbbing cock beating against the aching knot in my core with deliciously painful satisfaction. He could reach exactly where the burning desire took root every single time, without fail. I flailed wildly for something to hold onto and found purchase again on the tops of his muscular thighs. We sat pressed together for what felt like forever, neither one of us strong enough to begin any semblance of a rhythm when being sealed together so tightly already felt this good.

Rex rolled his hips up first, his cock bottoming out easily inside the space that was quickly becoming too small to contain him. Every bump of his tip against my deepest spot made me squeal in pleasure. He snickered tauntingly, knowing full well how easy it was for him to bring me to another high just by pressing himself into me this deeply. “That’s the spot, mesh’la, I know it is. Just fucked you apart once and you’re still so fucking tight. You needed my cock. Is that it? I can reach where no one else can. That’s why you’re all mine.” 

“Yes, Rex. You’re right there, right where I want you. Where it hurts. Where I need you to fuck until it feels better. Please,” I begged, lifting my hips and rotating them as I started grinding down on him desperately. “Your cock… it's all I ever want. Rex!” I could feel his fingers starting to circle my clit again, still sensitive from being played with so mercilessly once already. Pressure mounted in between my thighs and heat swelled through every part of my body all over again.

Rex helped guide my hips on him at the speed he liked, and he watched himself disappear inside me in the mirror with every bounce on his cock. “I could fuck you like this forever. Till the end of my fucking days. I want to watch you drain my fucking cock, mesh’la. Look so good taking all of me… feel s-so good. I want to fill you full of me. Bouncing this perfect ass on me while you take every inch of me…” He leaned back and rested on his forearms to get a better look, slapping my right cheek roughly every time I slid up to the tip.

“Whenever you want, Captain. You can have all of me. Always. Fuck… Rex… fuck me. I want to cum again on your cock,” I pleaded, tossing my hair behind me and feeling him twirl it into the grip of his left hand. I rode him faster, the length of him spearing into my spot in a blinding hot mix of pleasure and pain. I moaned loudly, the echoes of his name filling the cavern and rippling the calm surface of the hot spring. Skin slapping skin lewdly filled my ears and Rex’s low moans of pleasure spurred me on faster. 

His breathing became harsher and harsher, his sworn words of pleasure hitching in his throat as higher-pitched whines took their place. I didn’t relent, feeling his circles on my clit speed up as the tingling of my nerves blended with the tightly wound knot simmering in my belly. 

His cock jumped and he sat up on instinct, clutching me to him and seating me firmly into his lap as he felt white hot pleasure bubbling up within him. “Oh fuck–mesh’la… I’m gonna cum. I want to fill you so deep and watch it spill out… leak out that pretty pussy. Make a mess of my perfect dirty girl. Fuck... fuck cum on my cock… cum with me, my love… fuuuck–” he rambled, kissing up my neck and groaning deeply in my ear, the reflection of his dark eyes meeting mine.

His twisting circles on my clit sped up tenfold to catch me up, and I gasped feeling the pleasure ignite inside my core. I reached behind me to grip him by the hair and pulled tightly as he rocketed my nerves over the edge into overstimulation. I could do nothing but bite my lip to hold back the scream as my second orgasm exploded into stardust that radiated through my body. My walls pulsed around him at the same time he sent ropes of wet heat erupting into the deepest depths of my belly. I gripped his throbbing cock in the vice of my walls and held on tight as we both writhed in unison.

“Rex… Rex… Rex… Reeex–” I sputtered as pleasure seemed to take turns making its way through both of our bodies. His cock throbbed over and over, pass after pass filling up the emptiness inside more than there could ever be space to contain. My grip on him wouldn’t lessen as the fantastic high swirled through the blood in my veins, finally extinguishing the torturous hormone-crazed lust in my core.

He panted in my ear, doing his best to keep it going as we both toppled down from an overwhelming high. “I’m here, mesh’la. Fuck… I’ve got you.” He relaxed and dropped his thighs open, releasing the bind they had on mine and letting me fall open in front of him. I groaned as his cock slid out and the swirling streams of his release spilled out like a slow leak from my still-spasming hole. It dripped to the floor below and made his eyes roll back in his head as he watched it continue to coat the inside of my folds.

“See? That’s… all yours… baby. Always yours to fill like this whenever you want,” I whimpered through my blissed-out haze, feeling it spill onto my inner thighs. 

“You’re so fucking… filthy. Gods, I fucking love you. I love you,” he said incredulously, kissing up my neck, along my jaw, and across my cheeks until he reached my lips. “You’ve gotta feel better now, darling, because… clearly… I’m spent… you milked me dry, gorgeous.”

I hummed happily, melting into his grasp and holding his hands now wrapping around my waist. “I’m better now. So much better.” I tipped my head back to rest on his shoulder and nuzzled my face into his neck. He tenderly spread his fingers on the swell of my little bump, perhaps trying to feel for any more flutters. “Maybe now I can finally sleep.”

Before I knew it, I was being cleaned with a washcloth and scooped into his arms while I faded on the edge of consciousness. For the first time in ages, my body felt calm and boneless, my every nerve ending satisfied. He relaxed me the best way he knew how, and I was so at ease I could finally close my eyes and settle beside him in bed.

The sheets were soft and cool compared to the muggy spa room, and the smell of Rex’s clean, woodsy scent flooded my nose. He curled me into his side, both his arms hugging me into him protectively. 

It felt like all of us could finally rest for the first time in weeks, knowing we were in a safe place surrounded by more free brothers than Rex and I had seen in a long time. We were all on the same side–all of us committing to fighting for something better for the clones, for Ryloth, and for family.

I spent the next few minutes relishing in the sweet, peaceful sounds of nature of Ryloth’s night. Plants rustled in the breeze just outside a window-shaped opening in the cavern walls and nocturnal creatures sang to each other as they thrived when the rest of the planet slept. Rex’s breathing soon steadied beneath my cheek, and I drifted off shortly after, falling impossibly deeper in love with him to the sound of his breathing.

--

Notes: hi there :) it's been awhile. the last few chapters have been tough and emotional, even on me to write. so i figured what better way to give us all a break than to let our faves get some. ps that includes some bonus works coming soon for both wolffe and gregor's sexcapades during this chapter ;) a big massive wonderful special thank you to erin for being the best beta reader and friend ever

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[harritudur]

Elizabteh Woodvillle: *coughing like she caught the plague in The White Princess sneak peek*

me:

[auspicious-manner]

My request comes with a mini rant. So, something that's always bothered me in Episode 2 of Panic is that not ONCE does anyone ask Dodge if he's okay. That man just fought for his life trying not to fall to his death—which HAD to hurt his shoulder hanging by one arm like that. No one may have known why he was upset with Ray, but he CLEARLY was. So everyone just watches him go through physical pain, then emotional pain, then MORE physical pain when Ray hits him back, and NO ONE thinks to ask him if he's alright. Not Natalie. Not Heather. NO ONE. All of the attention goes to Natalie when she hurts her ankle, which I understand, but it still makes me so sad for Dodge. That brings me to my request. Do you think you could write an alternative ending where the reader asks Dodge if he's okay after all of that and he lets his guard down? (PS, sorry for ranting at you.)

FACTS. after that happened literally everyone forgot about how dodge was mere inches from death 😭 he deserved so much better tbh

female reader x dodge

warnings: none

Grounded

•

dodge mason wasn’t known for being much of a people person. there were very few people he talked to in town, one of them being Y/N.

they weren’t really even friends. but, if they happened to run into each other, they had some nice conversations. Y/N liked the chill energy he carried, and dodge liked that she was very comfortable and confident with herself and her abilities. maybe they found solace in each other because both of them weren’t exactly popular.

Y/N entered panic to earn money so she could get out of carp and attend college. her family was definitely not rich, or even middle class. every month, her family barely had enough money to survive.

going into the challenge at the granary, Y/N was oddly excited. the challenge was going to be scary, but that energized her. she reveled in that feeling as she thought it made her perform better.

she hung to the back of the crowd when the challenge begun. as she wasn’t the most popular in school, she preferred to be on her own.

they all watched the first player, drew santiago, cross the beam. although she didn’t realize it, she held her breath the entire time drew was walking across. when he made it to the end, she let out a sigh of relief.

summer reached in to the hat she was pulling names out of, and she unfolded the slip of paper she had picked.

“Y/N L/N, you’re up!”

a few people within the crowd gave short pity claps. the crowd didn’t give her the cheers like they gave everyone else. however, she met eyes with dodge, and he was one of the few clapping. Y/N smiled to herself.

she confidently walked to the ladder and climbed up, not looking down. if she hesitated even for a second, she would chicken out. it was higher than it seemed from below.

she planted her feet on the beam, and kept her focus on the the stretch ahead of her.

“okay Y/N, your time starts now!”

she took carefully planned steps, and she tightened her core to keep her from wobbling. she took deep breaths to calm her mind as she walked. before she knew it, she was across to the other side.

the crowd let out a few cheers. “congrats, you made it across in 30 seconds, which means you’re still in the game!”

she smiled and climbed down the ladder. when her feet touched the ground, she savored the solid dirt below her.

a few more people went and succeeded, and finally, it was dodge’s turn. like her, he boldly walked to the ladder and made his way up, fear not present anywhere in his body.

diggins announced his time had started, and dodge remained collected upon the towering beam. all was going well until dodge violently wobbled, and caught himself on the beam before he could fall to the ground.

Y/N gasped along with everyone else. she wasn’t sure what made dodge wobble, but it had to have been something on ground level. knowing dodge, he wouldn’t have just lost his balance over nothing.

he held on for his life with one arm, and slowly but surely, he was able to bring his other arm up and swung himself back onto the beam before getting settled and standing up, resulting in cheer from the crowd. finally, dodge made it across safely. dodge was still in the game.

the crowd erupted in cheers, and as soon as dodge’s feet touched the ground, he walked over to ray before pushing him back. Y/N wasn’t sure what ray did, but she knew it had something to do with dodge almost plummeting to his death.

dodge pulled away, but ray made a snarky remark causing dodge to turn back around and punch him in the face, kickstarting a brawl between the two boys.

the energy only intensified when police sirens and lights filled everyone’s eyesight. the red and blue lights reflected off of every surface, and Y/N felt like she couldn’t move. she was a deer in headlights.

then, before she could react, dodge took her arm and ran away with her into the trees in the distance.

when they reached a clearing and were finally far enough way, they stopped and sat down side by side on a fallen tree, catching their breath.

“thanks for dragging me away. when i saw the lights my body just… froze. i didn’t know what to do.”

dodge nodded. “it was nothing, don’t worry about it.”

there was a pause. “you did really good up there,” dodge told her. “you didn’t look afraid at all.”

“i shouldn’t be getting the praise. you saved yourself from near death, that is a true feat.”

there was more silence, and then Y/N spoke up again. “by the way, are you okay? i mean, hanging from a beam way above the ground like that couldn’t have been easy.”

dodge turned to look at her. “why do you care?”

“because i can tell it’s weighing on your conscience more than you even realize, and i’m the only one that seems to notice it.”

dodge looked straight forward again. “i didn’t ask you to delve into the inner workings of my mind, you know.”

“you didn’t have to ask, i did it anyway.” Y/N replied.

“only a handful of us got to experience that walk. it wasn’t easy, it was a lot scarier up there than one would think. i get what you’re feeling, more than anyone.” she continued.

“i appreciate the unsolicited concern, but genuinely, i’m fine.” dodge said sharply.

Y/N thought about it. “then why are you deflecting?”

dodge gave her a small smile. “you really are relentless, aren’t you?” Y/N nodded happily, prompting a laugh from dodge.

“fine, you win. i was content up until ray hall used a laser pointer on my chest. i got distracted, and i fell. since you’re not going to let me say otherwise, i guess i was scared when i was hanging on to the beam. it was a split second of pure fear, only when i was only able to hang on with one arm though.”

he took a shallow breath. “and i was even more worried about being out of the game. i need to win, Y/N, and if i got eliminated from the second challenge based on time simply because ray hall is an asshole, i wouldn’t have forgiven myself. you don’t know it, but there’s a lot riding on me winning.”

dodge sighed. “when i got down, all the anger in my body accidentally exploded on to ray. he deserved it, no doubt about it, but it didn’t work out great for me in the end because he did land a good punch or two.”

Y/N soaked in all the information. she took note of dodge rubbing his arm. “is your arm okay?”

“this? oh yeah, i’m okay. sure, it does hurt, but nothing i can’t handle. i might have torn the muscle a bit from holding onto the beam.”

“you’re stronger than i ever could be. i couldn’t dream of doing something like that.” she told him.

“when you’re in panic, you have to be prepared for anything. especially laser pointers on your chest when you’re trying not to fall off a suspended beam way above the ground.” dodge joked, causing Y/N to laugh.

Y/N turned to look at dodge, and when he noticed her, he turned to look at her as well.

“i appreciate you asking if i was okay. i know i was cold at first, and i’m sorry about that, but i guess i’m thankful for your persistence. not many people in this town have actually asked me if i’m okay, or have cared to actually talk to me about this.”

“it’s nothing, i was just helping out a friend. i would do it for you any time.” Y/N said back.

dodge smiled. “so we’re friends now?”

“yeah, why not?” she asked. “it’s not like we have other friends we can talk to.”

“you didn’t need to remind me of my sad reality.” dodge said, lightly shoving her with his shoulder.

“it’s not just your reality, it’s mine too. us outcasts have to stick together, right?”

dodge grinned. “right.”