#there’s no time to celebrate or reflect and I haven’t been to temple in a year anyway

[lesbian-thespian-paladin]

I feel like such a baby because there are so many bigger problems but god I just wish society recognized my holidays

[ahsokathegray]

Two Years to the Day

Pairings: Rexsoka, TechPhee, Codywan (if you squint)

Prompt: Rexsoka Monthly Apr. ‘23 - It's You or It's No One

Summary: Rex is determined to distract Ahsoka from the second annual Empire Day celebrations. In bringing her to his favorite Pabu bar, he gets much more than anticipated. He has no idea how he wound up in bed next to the Togruta who’d volunteered herself to be the wingwoman he didn’t ask for.

Tags: blood mention, o66 deaths mention, alcohol, drunkenness, unwanted attention, protective Rex, hangover, inability to recall events, sexual situations

Word Count: 6,017

A/N: If you haven’t already, go give @rexsoka-monthly a follow and join us in supporting and creating prompt-based Rexsoka content! 🫶

read on ao3! / masterlist

Two years of the Empire. It didn’t feel like it had been that long, yet the Holonet was flooded with nothing but celebrations for the second annual Empire Day. The events of what happened on that day, just two years prior, was still so fresh in their memories. 

Ahsoka swore there was still dirt under her nails left from digging the graves on that Force-forsaken moon. She could still see the faces of the men after she and Rex had removed their helmets… each one seared into her mind, closing the eyes of every last man they could pull from the wreckage. The smell of blood and smoke still lingered in her nose if she thought about it long enough. 

Neither one of them should have survived. Rex especially struggled with the guilt of being the sole clone to escape the crashing Venator. Part of her wondered if he thought, by now working to save as many men as he could, that he could somehow rectify surviving what half a legion couldn’t. 

She pressed two fingers to her temples in an attempt to massage the painful memories away, to drown out the celebration the Empire was putting on. The kriffing tyrants were proud of what they’d done to get where they are now. They were proud of how they’d done it, who they’d trampled to climb to the top — the Jedi and clones they’d murdered and tossed aside in the process.

Why she didn’t power the Holonet down, she didn’t know. However, it wasn’t long after, that the door to the cockpit hissed open and a slender, tanned finger did just that. 

“How many years in a row am I gonna catch you watching this garbage?” came a low, almost distraught, whisper behind her. She didn’t even have to look at the reflection in the transparisteel to know that it was Rex who was with her inside the Remora. His voice was so distinct.

Rex took a seat behind her, reached under her thigh, and swiveled the pilot’s chair to face him. He noticed the tenseness in her jaw and the crinkle between her brow markings, two indicators of tears that were long overdue. 

She dropped one of the knees that had been resting underneath her chin, looking defeated, and sighed, “I’m sure there will be an Empire Day in the future in which we aren’t together.”

“Do you just think we end up in each other’s company on this day by some coincidence?” Rex asked, leaning forward. Ahsoka squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, to which Rex shot out a hand to cup her knee. He hushed her gently, “Hey, now. None of that, okay? Not this year.”

Ahsoka’s lip quivered as Rex caught a tear with the back of his finger, grimacing. His skin was warm and the sensation was a surprising one, but something she found a familiar solace in. He wiped his hand on his pants leg and stood, holding his hand out for her to take. “Come on,” he said gently, “I can guarantee you that Pabu isn’t celebrating Empire Day.” She reluctantly stood, and was perhaps too eager to grab his bare hand. For a moment, Ahsoka was transported back to their days on the run together. The shock of his skin against hers was still as profound as it had been the first time. Her heart sped up just the same.

“Pabu is always celebrating something,” she remarked, following him off of his ship and back out into the waning day. 

Rex still held her hand in his and smiled, his eyes on her the entire time, “And why shouldn’t they? Just look at that view.”

Ahsoka peered out at the twinkling reflections on the ocean, the colors painting the sky, as well as the festivities happening in Lower Pabu. She couldn’t deny that it was breathtaking. Rex had yet to look at any of it though, still focused on her. Turning to him, she caught his attention diverting to his feet, the hint of a blush creeping up from under the collar of his shirt. “Where are the others?” she asked, changing the subject and therefore providing Rex with a topic to escape to.

“Ah, Echo’s still down by the water with Wrecker. I think Hunter went with Omega and Lyana to a kid’s event. And well, I’m sure you can guess what Tech and Phee are doing,” he answered, a cheeky smile causing his teeth to peek past his lips. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Ahsoka’s eyes roll so far back. Rex laughed, “Come on. We are going somewhere fun.”

When they didn’t turn towards the water or in the direction of his house, Ahsoka knew what he had in store, “You’re taking me to Echo’s bar aren’t you?”

Rex laughed, “Might as well be his, huh? I think it’ll be a nice way to end the day and it’s been a few years… About time you had your first sip of Tihaar.” 

Ahsoka put a hand over her hip, “I don’t think it’s a very good idea that we drown our sorrows with alcohol. Besides, I had my first taste of Tihaar years ago.” She winked and walked ahead of him.

He stood there in disbelief for a moment before jogging to catch up with her, “Wait, when? I didn’t give it to you.” Rex slowed once he reached her side and had an eyebrow perched high on his face. Whether his heart was racing from the slight jog or her wink, he didn’t know. Though, there had never been a day in his life when a little cardio had tired him. Winded, he continued, “And I wouldn’t think of it as drowning out our sorrows. We’re celebrating, too. Now tell me who gave you the drink. Was it Fives? Jesse?”

The names of brother’s long gone falling from Rex’s mouth so easily was a huge milestone. Yes, the pain was still there, and it always would be, but time had helped to heal wounds that had been left open for too long. She was glad they could recall happier times without the memories of those passed becoming tarnished. 

“I’ll never tell,” she teased, stopping at a fork in their path and allowing Rex to lead the way to the establishment. “What do we have to celebrate anyway?”

Rex pursed his lips, allowing her to shelve the conversation for now and answering her question, “Two years of cheating death.”

“We’ve done that our entire lives, Rex,” Ahsoka corrected, bumping herself into him playfully. The backs of their hands brushed and Ahsoka straightened her posture, looking at the winding path in front of them and avoiding Rex’s eye. This kind of thing was becoming more frequent between them. The comfort in proximity, the small touches that wouldn’t have been present if they still held any rank, the almost flirtatious banter…

He cleared his throat, “Yeah, well, Order 66 wasn’t designed for survival. The odds were stacked against us and we managed the impossible. Every day we press on, we continue to cheat death.” Ahsoka normally wasn’t so pessimistic, but it was difficult not to be on a day like today, however, Rex beat her to it. “I can still hear it, you know — the sound the Destroyer made when it finally… hit the ground. Sometimes, my ears still ring and I convince myself that I heard the screaming. I do hear it in my nightmares.”

“You’re still having them?” she asked quietly, the chatter and play of children beside them not even gaining a smile from her. Hunter stood by and gave them a nod as they passed, listening to Omega and Lyana speak over each other excitedly. 

Rex glanced back at Ahsoka briefly before looking forward, “Let’s just say you’re my good luck charm.”

Ahsoka looked up at him, at a loss of words to say. She’d been under the impression that his nightmares had gone away. Apparently, they’d started visiting him again after the two of them had parted ways for a spell.

“What I mean to say is, I know that you still blame yourself, no matter how many times I tell you that you don’t have to carry that weight on your shoulders. What we’re doing… we’re making a difference, Ahsoka. In you putting your life on the line to remove my chip… something you knew less about than I did, look what’s come of it. Look at what I’m able to do because of you. And what you're able to do with Bail and establishing this network. We’re able to teach others how to lead. It’s not about the lives we didn’t save, we can’t change that. It’s about the lives we’re saving now. And that’s something to celebrate,” he said, turning a corner. 

She bit her lip as she followed him into the lively establishment. It was bustling with people. They needed no reason to throw a party, apparently. Rex had told her about Pabu’s high-spirited nature many a time over their scheduled holo calls. 

The lighting was minimal, but neons in all colors hummed around them. This place looked how she imagined 79’s was on the inside. For a moment, she wondered what had become of the clone bar. She’d always wanted to take the boys up on their offer to let her tag along, but Anakin had discouraged it on both ends. 

They stopped at the glowing counter and the bartender approached him. “Rex! Good to see you, son,” an older Quarren man greeted, “I’m afraid your brothers have cleaned me out of your usual. I’ve placed another order for Tihaar, but there’s no telling when or if it’ll come in. All these party folk have left me with is Revnog and Spotchka.”

Rex made a face and turned to her, “There’s a chance you may not like either of those. Do you still want one?”

“Sure, why not,” Ahsoka beamed beside him.

He faced the bartender again, “No worries. Could I get two shots of Spotchka for myself and the lady?” he replied, holding up two fingers. 

“Sure thing,” the older man responded, leaving to help another customer. 

Music thumped in Ahsoka’s montrals and she was thankful for how advanced her hearing was. She wondered how Rex could hear anything at all with his ears. He then moved them to a spot by an open viewport, where there was less noise, and pulled out a stool for her to sit. Rex then found another stray stool nearby and relocated it beside her. The energetic music and dancing crowd brought a soft smile to Ahsoka’s face. Happiness was contagious on Pabu. 

“See,” Rex teased, tapping her forearm, “This is much better than being holed up on the ship and listening to some Imperials kiss ass.”

That drew a surprised laugh from her, having never heard him speak that way before. She opted to join in on his fun, “Now what would Cody have to say about your language?” 

Rex’s half-smile graced his face and two small shot glasses of gleaming blue liquid were placed in front of them, “Lucky for me, Cody’s systems away on Tatooine.”

“I’m sure if he were here he’d disapprove,” she continued, smirking.

“Oh, there’s no doubt about that,” Rex smiled, picking up his shot glass, “He’d probably disapprove of this as well.” Ahsoka picked up her glass and mimicked how he was holding it up. “Here’s to one more year making the ISB’s lives a living hell,” Rex cheered, clinking the glasses and throwing his head back to down the liquid. 

Ahsoka tried to ignore the smell of the drink as best as possible before doing the same. 

Rex watched as her eyes squeezed shut and her nose scrunched upwards. Her shot glass was returned to the counter with an impact. Ahsoka contorted her face as she swallowed the liquid and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Stars, what did you say that was? That was awful,” she exclaimed. 

His chest boomed with laughter, “Spotchka. And yeah, it’s not my favorite either. No chance you’d like another?”

Plum colored lips fell open in disbelief, “You’re kidding right?”

Another hearty laugh came from Rex as he held up one finger to the waiting bartender. Ahsoka placed her hands on her thighs, “Do you come here often while you’re on Pabu?”

“Not too often to drink if that’s what you’re asking. Usually I’m here spending time with Echo while he has a glass or two of the good stuff,” he answered truthfully, throwing back a second shot of the foul liquid.

Ahsoka’s lip curled again, “I don’t know how you can drink that stuff. From what I remember of Tihaar, it was loads better.”

“Well,” he smiled, pleased that she enjoyed his favorite drink, “This isn’t Tihaar by any means, but it all does the same thing.” He downed another tiny glass of it and continued, “So you’ve been on Pabu for a day. What’s your favorite thing so far?”

She thought for a moment, “That’s a hard one. There’s nothing not to like. I definitely enjoyed the water. And the food has all been so delicious, but I think my favorite thing, by far, has been the company.”

Rex rolled his eyes, making that another first she’d witnessed today. Relaxed Rex was something she could get used to. It looked good on him. Or did he just look good? 

She’d be lying if she’d said that she’d missed the way the bar occupants, of all species and sexes, had been ogling him. How could she blame them?

He looked handsome under the low lighting, the colors of the neon signs bouncing off of him from various directions. The sun was almost fully set and it couldn’t have been a more flattering backdrop. She’d never seen The Captain Rex look so young or… soft in front of his men. Her drifting thoughts made her feel ridiculous. It had to have been a result of the alcohol, though she didn’t feel any less in-control. 

The brushing of Rex’s knees against her own brought her back to reality. “You're just saying that,” he claimed, his smirk having yet to fade. 

“No, I’m really not!” Ahsoka laughed. 

“Right,” he exaggerated the word, unconvinced, “Well, if you’re not going to drink with me, let me at least order you something to eat.”

“Rex, you don’t have to do that. I have my own credits,” she protested. 

“I insist,” he said, jaw flexing and clearly unable to be swayed. 

She must’ve liked something about that, with the way that made her lekku grow warmer. She was thankful for the minimal lighting, as she was sure her chevrons had darkened a hue or two. Her order was placed and Rex requested water for her and a Revnog for himself. 

Despite her efforts, Ahsoka couldn’t get over how gorgeous Rex looked. Island life agreed with him. The rosiness in his cheeks complimented him and she couldn’t tell if it was from all the sun he’d been getting or if it was from the alcohol. She’d come to terms with her attraction for him in the aftermath of the war ending, but this was entirely new. Her thoughts got the better of her. “So, now that you’re settled part-time, is there a special someone on the island?” she asked. 

Rex shot her a baffled look, “Kriff no.”

“What? Why not?” Ahsoka asked, relieved with his response, but trying not to let it show. 

“I don’t have time for it,” he responded, “Besides, there’d be an uncomfortable amount of secrecy on my behalf and, with what you and I do for… a hobby, I couldn’t expect anyone to understand. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Ahsoka tilted her head, “I guess that makes sense. Though, I wouldn’t call our line of work a hobby.”

Rex flashed her another grin, “I wouldn’t call it a living either.”

Their order was delivered and he paid, nursing his new drink. Ahsoka unraveled her silverware and found herself overthinking the choice to bring up Rex’s love life. Had she seemed too interested in it? Did he suspect she asked because she was interested in him? Ahsoka swallowed. She needed to find a way to take any suspicion away from herself. Scanning the room, she motioned her head towards a woman by the bar, “What about her?”

She’d never regretted a set of words more in her entire life. 

Rex almost choked on his drink. The look on his face told her everything she needed to know. As much as she wanted to stop, asking him more questions might give her the answers she so desperately needed. 

“Alright then…” she giggled and scanned the crowd dancing inside, “What about him in the green shirt?”

“Ahsoka,” Rex warned, sitting down his glass. The liquid was beginning to burn in his veins now. 

She stifled a fit of laughter, “I’m joking! The pretty Zabrak woman next to him, then.” Rex shook his head and placed his hands on his thighs, clearly vexed. 

Exhaling, Ahsoka sat up straighter, “Come on, Rex. Practically everyone in here has had their eyes on you since we walked through those doors!” She immediately closed her mouth. That definitely sounded suspicious. Why would she notice something like that if she didn’t feel something for him? She was karked. 

But Rex didn’t seem to be reading into it like she was. Instead, he was looking past her shoulder outside. What she’d said was true. There had been many eyes on them from the time they'd stepped inside the bar. “Believe me when I tell you, they’re not interested in me,” he said lowly. Normally, Rex would catch himself before saying something like that. The alcohol was getting to him and quick — Tihaar had never packed a punch quite like this. Revnog doesn’t play around apparently. 

Ahsoka’s lips parted and her food was forgotten as she surveyed the occupants more closely. Rex was right. She was a new face on an island of nothing but well-acquainted people. 

“Don’t look to your left,” Rex said, hearing himself begin to slur his words. Either it was enough for Ahsoka not to hear him correctly, or she’d just chosen to ignore his warning, but she looked at the man outside. Rex tightened his hold on his glass. Through gritted teeth, he growled, “He’s practically undressing you with his eyes. If he keeps looking at you like that, I’m gonna jump through this viewport and—”

“No,” Ahsoka rushed, looking down to see where his knuckles had turned white, “No. You’re not. You’re in no condition to pick a fight.” 

“Oh I could easily make quick work of him, alcohol in my veins or not,” he seethed, setting his jaw. 

Ahsoka stole another glance at the man. He was looking at her differently than the others. She toyed with a loop on her jumpsuit, wondering how anything about her appearance was enticing enough to elicit a response like his. “Rex, you’ve said it yourself plenty of times that the people on Pabu are peaceful. I don’t think aggressive negotiations would go over too well here,” she attempted to calm him, “And it’s not like I’m wearing anything revealing. I don’t understand the big fuss.”

Rex chuckled darkly, “I don’t think that matters to him, Ahsoka. Even in this, you have the power to bring any man you want to his knees.” From the rush of color flooding her cheeks, Rex realized he’d gone too far. He’d allowed his unguarded state to eviscerate his filter. He’d just admitted to his dearest friend that he considered her attractive. 

Ahsoka swallowed and shifted uncomfortably away from the man, picking at her food. Even in a drunken haze, Rex could read how put-off she was and he disliked every second of it. He moved to rise out of his chair, but Ahsoka put a hand out to stop him, “Rex, don’t. Please.”

“If he’s not gonna stop, I have no choice but to make him stop.”

“Kiss me then,” Ahsoka rushed, her lekku burning with the words. She hadn’t meant to say it, but she was desperate to keep Rex’s fists from making impact with the poor man’s face. Stuttering, she continued, “You know he doesn’t stand a chance against you. I-If he thinks we’re together, maybe he’ll stop.”

Rex’s features pinched together, a deeper rosy color tinting his cheeks, “‘Soka, you were jus’ trying to set me up with people. ‘M sure he saw every bit of that.”

With the way the man was staring, she was positive that Rex was right. Her mouth grew dry as she continued, “Just do it, please, before you—”

But Rex had already stood from his seat, bowed up and a determined look in his eye. Ahsoka’s heart was in her throat as he stepped around his stool. Except, he hadn’t tried to jump through the viewport or make a beeline for the door. He took the two steps needed to be face to face with her. 

He reached out with a hand to cup her jaw and inched ever closer. Her breathing hitched as the world slowed around her. The only thing that existed in that moment was Rex leaning in and his hand caressing her jaw. She shivered with the skin-to-skin contact and his fingers found themselves on her neck, knuckles grazing the underside of her lekku. Her gaze flicked between his lips and his eyes, unable to focus on one. 

A second hand found her jaw and she could feel the quickened beats of her heart. Rex was close enough now to where she could see the small flecks of amber in his brown eyes. She could feel his hot breath on her skin and the smell of the alcohol on his lips wasn’t bothersome like it had been when it was inside her glass. 

She craved nothing but him. 

Rex’s fingers trembled despite the liquid courage and the next moment, his lips colliding with hers. Ahsoka’s eyes fluttered shut as she finally released the breath she’d been holding. She didn’t place her hands anywhere because she didn’t expect him to stand there for long, but he had yet to stop moving his mouth against hers. Ahsoka continued to match him, a quiet whimper escaping her throat. She could feel Rex smiling against her and he somehow still maintained the passion of the kiss. He tasted like the Revnog he’d been nursing… bitter yet slightly sweet.

He moved one of his hands to grab hers, which was lingering unsure between them, and placed it behind his neck. Ahsoka’s voice was cracked and breathy as she spoke, “You have to stop kissing me like you mean it, Rex.”

Unbeknownst to her, he’d opened his eyes with her words to find the man still looking. Rex locked eyes with him as he moved his mouth hungrily against Ahsoka’s and glared from under his brow. The man then sat his drink down with haste and promptly left the bar. 

Rex’s eyes squeezed shut again as he continued drinking her in. His voice was broken, “‘Soka, I wouldn’t know how to kiss you like I didn’t mean it… It’s you… or it’s no one.”

She’d still be kissing him if her lips hadn’t stayed parted in shock. Only then did Rex still his movements and pull away, his own words shocking him to the core. He stood upright and was suddenly aware of the tent in his pants. Angling himself away and retaking his seat, he shook his head. With a furrowed brow he muttered to himself, “No… I didn’t mean… I didn’t want to say it like this.”

Ahsoka watched as his chest heaved, catching a glimpse of his swollen lips. The tingle on her own was telling that hers were as well. She brushed over them with two fingers before gathering herself. A take away box was requested of the bartender and given to her. She packed her food away quickly and put a hand on Rex’s shoulder, “Come on, let’s get you back home.”

Helping Rex stand, she looked up and noticed that her suggestion had worked. The creep that hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of her had vanished. Rex took her hand and she maneuvered him through the crowd and back out of the establishment. 

They didn’t speak on the walk back to his house, not because they didn’t want to, but because neither one of them yet had the words to say. Ahsoka’s mind was running circles around itself. Rex had kissed her. She’d asked him to… but the way he’d done it… what he’d said to her. Her lips still felt tingly, like he was missing from them. She bit her bottom lip and tried to make sense of what had just occurred. Was it the alcohol or was it the truth? Did Rex return the feelings that she had long harbored for him? Her heart said yes, but she tried not to let it get her hopes up. 

A short walk later, they had made it up to the row of homes that Rex’s was on. He was situated between the shared home of Clone Force 99 and then Phee’s house. It didn’t go lost on either her or Rex the faint noises coming from Phee’s bedroom. Ahsoka was supposed to be staying with her while on Pabu, but had been dreading the arrangement. From what Rex had told her, she and Tech were very… active in their spare time. Ahsoka had just been too kind to decline such a generous offer. 

They’d made it inside Rex’s small home without much issue. Ahsoka, with Rex in tow, managed to find her way to the bedroom in the dark and sit him on the bed. She felt around on his nightstand for a lamp and turned it on once the switch was located. “I’ll get you some water and a stim for the morning,” Ahsoka whispered, turning and leaving the room. She’d spent enough time around the 501st to know exactly how to cure a hangover. 

Rex had given her a tour of his home earlier in the day and so she retrieved the items for him to the best of her ability. She still couldn’t wrap her head around any of it. How had they started the day as reunited friends and ended it like this? Instinctively, she wanted to discuss it with him, but knew she’d have to wait until tomorrow to get any answers. At this rate, going to sleep was going to be impossible for two reasons. 

Luck was on her side, as she found his medical supplies and returned minutes later to place the items on his nightstand. Rex had one leg under the blanket and looked like he was about to fall asleep sitting up. She smiled at his drunken state and switched the light off, “Alright, I think you’ve got the rest. If you need me, I’m just next door.”

Rex finally spoke once the darkness had surrounded them, “Don’t go, ‘Soka.”

Her rapid pulse returned with the nickname, as well as his request, “Okay. I can stay. I’ll just be on the couch, that way—”

“No,” he said and their eyes finally adjusted to the lack of light. He reached out and gentle fingers wrapped themselves around her wrist. “With me… Please.”

Her breath seemed to escape her again as she realized his full meaning. He wanted her to sleep next to him — to be there at his side when he woke up in the morning. There was a glint of moonlight in his eyes and she didn’t know how she could say no. Not a single atom in her genetic code could refuse him and she didn’t want them to. 

His bed creaked as he stood and she was on her feet in seconds. “M’ alright,” he assured her and moved to the closet. There was some rustling for a while before he reappeared, his blacks in hand. The top was offered to her and Ahsoka took it with trembling fingers. “Here, s’all I have,” he said, “You can change in the ‘fresher.”

Ahsoka swallowed thickly as she entered the adjacent room. She waited with bated breath until she was confident that he wasn’t going to fall or otherwise injure himself before peeling off her jumpsuit. The act of undressing was done quickly, as she wasn’t completely sure if Rex would need help or not. She pulled the top over her montrals and tucked the baggy article of clothing under her lekku. The hem brushed the middle of her thighs and she tugged down on the material. 

Taking a deep breath, Ahsoka pressed a button on the panel and exited the refresher. “Rex, do you need—” she stopped short. It hadn’t occurred to her when he didn’t hand her the bottoms that he’d intended on wearing them… and nothing else. 

Force, she wished he was sober. 

The moonlight coming in from the blinds showed just how chiseled Rex was. A large scar was situated in the middle of his chest, no doubt the work of that droid from earlier in the war. She tried to look away. Not even during their time on the run had she ever seen him in such a state. Evidently, it didn’t matter what lighting he was in — she found him alluring in every scenario. 

Rex was pulling the seams of the clothing to fit him correctly and she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. If the front of his blacks were any indication of how big…

“Kark me,” Rex cursed under his breath when he’d finished, looking her up and down, his knees nearly buckling at the sight of her. 

Ahsoka stepped forward and put a knee onto the bed, the hem of the borrowed top inching higher on her thigh. Rex’s throat bobbed and he moved a hand to cover himself. Ahsoka concealed a smile, the heavy tension making her feel similar to how she had in the bar. Here, however, the ogling looks of the man present were not unwanted. 

He climbed into bed and promptly pulled the blanket over himself, still in awe of Ahsoka. She followed his actions and rubbed her bare shoulder where his shirt was too large to cover. “Is this okay?”

Rex didn’t know how to tell her that this was more than okay, that this was what he’d only dreamt of since their time on the run together. His mouth had gone dry and his incoherent thoughts gave him only the ability to nod in that moment. His head hit the pillow so that he could admire her from another angle, but as soon as his muscles relaxed, he fell asleep. 

Even with the blinds closed, the sun still managed to light the bedroom. Rex woke with his brows knitted, already feeling the effects of mixing drinks he wasn’t used to. He rubbed his eyes and blinked before looking at the chrono by the bed. 

The fact that it was nearly midday would’ve hit him harder if it weren’t for the presence of water and a stim on his nightstand. Rex came to the horrifying realization that he’d made it through the night without jolting awake from his nightmares. That only happened when she was nearby. The last thing he remembered was kissing Ahsoka — fervently, like he was a man starved — and giving some degenerate onlooker his best clanker-killing stare. 

Rex began to feel more ill than just having a hangover. With his jaw clenched, he turned to look at the other side of the bed, praying that she wasn’t there. What he saw made his stomach drop. 

There beside him was Ahsoka, her bare shoulder staring back at him. His heart was in his throat now, sure to beat right out of his body. Rex spiraled. With both hands now on his head he racked his brain, trying his damnedest to remember. Vaguely, he could recall his hand in hers, passing Phee’s house. But that wasn’t the vital information he needed. 

They didn’t… He didn’t… Di’kut! Rex’s eyes squeezed shut. Had he at least given it to her good enough? She decided to stay rather than leave after he fell asleep. That’s a good sign, right? But not being able to remember it is not. 

Ahsoka stirred next to him and more of her shoulder came into view. She was definitely naked in his bed. He immediately shot a hand down under the blanket to check himself. Only his chest was bare, with his blacks slung low on his hips. The clothes he’d worn the day before were strewn on the floor between the closet and the bed. Undressing and redressing himself wasn’t coming to mind either. How could he have let this happen?

He scanned the room for Ahsoka’s clothes, but they were nowhere in sight. They were probably in heaps on the other side of the bed. Rex groaned and consequently saw Ahsoka blink out of his peripheral vision. “‘Soka,” he croaked. 

She hushed him and her voice still had some sleep in it, “It’s alright. I put a stim over there for you, remember?” 

More of her skin was exposed now and Rex had never hated himself more, “That’s the problem. I don’t remember leaving the bar… I’m so sorry, Ahsoka. Please forgive me.”

“Rex, how much do you remember?” she asked, oblivious to what he was insinuating. 

“I remember drinking and kissing you and… that rakeweed, but that’s it. Just please… Tell me if it was at least good for you,” he pleaded. 

Ahsoka’s mouth had fallen open and her lekku had darkened, visibly this time with the presence of daylight. She didn’t know whether to laugh or comfort him, but ended up doing both. She sat up and the blanket fell free from her. 

Upon seeing her in his blacks, Rex almost let out a sigh of relief, except it was a sight he never knew he’d needed until now. Ahsoka in his bed, his clothes hanging loosely off of her, bunched around her hips and…

Rex groaned again at the sight of her blue underwear, “Fuck.” She was something to behold, somehow more ethereal than she normally was, but he still didn’t have any answers. 

She giggled, “I believe your words last night were ‘Kark me’ if I’m remembering correctly.”

He finally sighed, “‘Soka, we didn’t—”

“No. We didn’t,” she confirmed before he could finish asking. 

Rex could finally breathe again and took that opportunity to use the stim and down the glass of water. No headache in the galaxy could rival the thought of having finally slept with the woman he loved and not remembered it. 

Ahsoka teased him once she saw that he’d finally settled, “Wow. And I was able to handle Jesse’s entire bottle of Tihaar better than you handled yourself last night.”

He shot an amused look at her, proud of himself for guessing the brother responsible and of her for handling her alcohol better than he had. His first time drinking came to mind and he’d not had such luck. Tihaar he could handle. Rex shook his head, still processing everything. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened at the bar?” Ahsoka finally asked, the topic having nagged at her even in her sleep. 

He turned his attention back towards her and a smile broke out on each of their lips. Rex’s half-smile pulled at the cheek nearest to her and she couldn’t help but tuck her bottom lip between her teeth. 

With more bravery than he’d had during all of the war, he asked her, “Would you rather talk about it or would you rather do it again?”

Ahsoka released her bottom lip and swiftly planted herself into Rex’s lap, eager to minimize the space between them. She dipped her head and found his lips with hers, squeaking excitedly when his chest vibrated with laughter and his hands found themselves under her shirt.

[theostrophywife]

high for this.

masterlist (azriel x reader) author's note: inspired by another song by the weeknd because smoking a blunt with azriel is a concept that i obviously needed to indulge in. warning: drug use and smut. summary: when your older brother bans you from attending the high lord's banquet, you talk azriel into having a celebration of your own with the help of a little mirthroot.

“Are you seriously locking me in a room with Azriel?” 

The setting sun projects pink and golden stripes across your bedchambers while you stubbornly cross your arms and level your gaze at your older brother. As you lean against the railing of the balcony, Rhysand rubs his temples and sighs dramatically.

From this vantage point, you could make out Feyre’s shadow as she milled about the House of Wind with Nuala and Cerridwen trailing behind her. Along with the rest of the inner circle, they were getting ready to depart for the Court of Nightmares where a banquet would be held to welcome the other High Lords. A celebration that Rhys had just uninvited you to thanks to a slight altercation with the High Lord of the Spring Court. 

“You shocked Tamlin with enough lightning to power all of Prythian,” replies Rhysand. “I think it best if you refrain from attending the festivities until you’ve had time to reflect on your actions.” 

You sneer, examining your nails with utter boredom. So what if you used your powers on the spring lordling? He shouldn’t have growled at Feyre if he didn’t want to get hit with a bolt of lightning. Tamlin was practically asking for it.

“Rich of you to say, Rhys. The last time you were in a High Lord’s meeting, you literally took away that twat’s ability to speak.” 

Leaning against the moonstone archway of your private balcony, the amused chortle of the shadowsinger draws your attention. “And you,” you point an accusing finger at your would be babysitter. “You nearly killed Eris, yet you came out unscathed. It hardly seems fair.” 

Rhys shakes his head. “Why do you think I’m keeping both of you in here?” He picks at an invisible piece of lint from the lapel of his jacket, drawing another eye roll out of you. “At least you’re spared from enduring two hours of Beron’s incessant bitching.” 

You grin wickedly as lavender lightning crackles through your fingertips. “Put me in the room and I’ll make sure the Autumn Lord keeps his mouth shut.” 

The High Lord sighs. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid, dear sister.” He drags his gaze between you and Azriel with a weary expression. “Please, I’m asking for one night. Just stay here with Az and try not to get into too much trouble.” 

You plop down on the velvet loungers lining your balcony with a dramatic flourish. “Fine, but it’s going to cost you.”

Weariness laces through his features as he mutters under his breath, “As if I haven’t been paying the price for nearly five centuries.”

“I heard that, you prick.” You shoot your brother a vulgar gesture. “Just know that my next shopping spree at the Continent is entirely on you.” 

“So be it,” Rhys accepts in defeat. He nods at the shadowsinger on his way out. “Keep an eye on her, please and whatever you do, don’t let her fly out of here.” 

You roll your eyes. As if either one of them could even catch you once you took to the skies. You were faster than both Rhys and Azriel when it came to flying and both males knew it. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply haughtily, unfurling your wings as you recline back in your seat. “I promise not to burn the house down, if only for Feyre’s sake.” 

On the floor below you, Feyre chuckles and sends you a sympathetic smile. You wink back at your High Lady as Rhysand flies down to her side. 

“Try not to have too much fun without me, sissy.”

She throws her head back in laughter as wings protrude from her back. “Wouldn’t dream of it, love.” 

You watch with a fond smile as your brother and sister-in-law ascend to the skies. As much as you loved giving Rhysand a hard time, you were bursting with happiness that he’d found the love that he’s deserved all along. The fact that it placed another female in his life that constantly called him out on his shit was also an added bonus. 

As they disappear from view, you cross your legs and level your gaze at Azriel. “Now that they’re gone, what should we do first? Raid the wine cellar? Skinny dip in the Sidra? Winnow to the Day Court for a good old fashioned orgy?” 

The shadowsinger shakes his head in amusement. “Would it kill you to have a quiet night in for once in your life?” 

You gasp dramatically, clawing at your neck and pretending to choke. “My throat is closing up just at the thought of it. You know I’m utterly allergic to boredom.” 

Azriel playfully rolls his eyes. “Then I suppose I’ll just have to find a way to entertain you.” 

Now that was intriguing. “I’m listening,” you prompt, gesturing for the male to continue.

With whatever strange power the shadowsinger possessed, he conjures an egg roughly the size of your head from the safety of his shadows. The scaled surface reflects the setting sun, catching the light and gleaming an iridescent color as he cradles the unhatched egg in the palm of his hand. 

“Is that what I think it is?” you ask in amazement, scooting between the couchettes to get a closer look at the invaluable item. 

“A dragon’s egg from deep in the mines of Montesere.” 

Azriel hands you the scaled egg and you carefully turn it over in your palm, examining every unique curve and ridge. When you were younger, you became absolutely obsessed with dragons and even convinced your parents to search for an unhatched egg in the Continent, but never had any luck acquiring one due to the rarity of the object. With the dragon’s numbers steadily dwindling, it was hard to even spot the reclusive creatures, much more obtaining their coveted hatchlings. 

“How did you get your hands on this?” 

Azriel shrugs casually. “I may have slipped a miner a gold coin or two to look the other way.” He watches as you hold the valuable treasure up to the light, a fond smile curving through his lips as you examine it with careful consideration. “I remember how obsessed you were with dragons back when we were younger. You wouldn’t stop spouting random facts about them whenever you could. To the point where Rhys banned you from bringing them up during family dinners.” 

You grin, remembering how much you annoyed Rhysand with your endless tidbits about the creatures. “I can’t believe you remember that. It was so long ago.” 

The shadowsinger grins. “I hope you like it because I’m still finding ash and soot in places they don’t belong.” 

You smile, fingers stilling on the scales as you look up at Azriel. “You went into the mines to bring this back for me?”

He nods. “Couldn’t pass up the chance. Think of it as an early Solstice present.”

The gesture was extremely touching. You couldn’t explain how or why, but the shadowsinger always just knew. Growing up, you and Azriel were the closest. While you cherished your relationships with Rhysand and Cassian, they didn’t understand you quite like Azriel did. 

The shadowsinger was your partner in crime, always getting roped into whatever scheme you fancied in the moment, pranking Cas and Rhys while they cruised for females, and even sneaking out with you at late hours in the night if only to keep you safe while out in the city. Even when his brothers deemed it a buzzkill to have their little sister tagging along to their plans, Azriel always made it a point to include you. 

Despite the contrast of your loud and boisterous nature to Azriel’s quiet and reserved disposition, your personalities somehow just clicked. The two of you were as thick as thieves and you knew you were Azriel’s favorite no matter how many times he complained about you being a pain in his arse. 

To be fair, Azriel was your favorite too. The shadowsinger was your first friend, first person to teach you how to shoot a bow, first male that you’ve ever had a crush on. Even after all this time, you still carried a torch for the dark, broody male. The cliche of falling for your brother’s best friend wasn’t lost on you, but it was impossible to not love Azriel. Especially when he did things like scouring the mines of Montesere just to bring you home a dragon egg. 

“Thank you, Azriel. That’s really sweet.” You hug the present to your chest, carrying it over to the nightstand next to your four poster bed where you could admire it every morning and night. “Now I’ll think of you every time I wake up and go to sleep.” 

Azriel smirks. “I thought you already did that, princess.” You shoot him a vulgar gesture in response to his self proclaimed nickname for you, which only makes him laugh. “I’m hoping this means you’ll be on your best behavior tonight.” 

You snort. “Is the feared spymaster actually trying to bribe me? That’s cute, Azzy.” 

“I’m tempted to go back and fetch you another hatchling if you promise to stop calling me that.”

“Never,” you grin wickedly. “Now come on, Azzy. You promised to entertain me.”

Settling into the cushioned seat beside him, you raise a suggestive brow and pull out a tray from underneath the chair. On its mirrored surface sat a roll of papers, a grinder, and a jar full of the most potent mirthroot in Prythian. You cross your legs as you dump the purple clumps of flower onto the glass, packing it tightly into the grinder as Azriel sighs. 

“I don’t suppose you bought that from the Rainbow.” 

You twist the grinder as it pulverizes the flowers into finer pieces. “Gods, I wish. Good mirthroot is hard to come by nowadays. I paid nearly an arm and a leg for this from a rogue merchant.” 

He crosses his legs, unfurling his wings behind him. “I’m going to take a wild guess that smoking mirthroot isn’t on Rhysand’s list of approved activities.”

You childishly stick out your tongue in response. “It’s medicinal.” 

Azriel raises an amused brow. “What ailment are you suffering from?”

“I’m looking at him right now.” 

The shadowsinger rolls his eyes, but makes no move to stop you as you dump out the crushed flowers onto a slip of rolling paper. He watches in silence as you roll up the spliff, packing it tightly between your slender fingers before running your tongue along the edge of the paper. Azriel zeroes in on the fluid movement, his gaze dipping to your mouth with unabashed scrutiny. 

With a teasing smirk, you spark the blunt with a shock of your lightning and place the roll between your lips. You take a slow drag, inhaling the smoke in your lungs as the sweet, heady taste of mirthroot envelopes your senses. Azriel couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. Balancing the blunt between your middle and pointer finger, you offer it to the shadowsinger with a mischievous grin. 

“Do you want a hit?” you challenge. 

The male shakes his head. “I’m good, princess.” 

Displeased by his answer, you blow a ring of smoke towards Azriel as one of his shadows darts through the opening. Mother save him, the husky timbre of your laughter awakens the dark desire slumbering in the pits of his very being. This dangerous attraction he harbors for you was something he’d long tried to bury, telling himself over and over again that you only saw him as a friend and a brother. He was supposed to be watching over you, protecting you, caring for you like Rhys asked, but it was hard to remember his duty when you smiled at him like this.

“Come on, shadowsinger. Live a little.”

“I don’t partake in anything that may alter my mind,” he states matter of factly. “As spymaster, I need to be alert at all times.” 

You roll your eyes in response. “Oh please. I’m really supposed to buy into that clean cut warrior bullshit? Like I don’t know all the trouble you, Rhys, and Cas got into when you were still in the camps.” 

Azriel chuckles. “Maybe, but that was a long time ago. I’m not the reckless male I used to be.” 

“Damn right. That Az was a lot more fun.” He scoffs, feigning a hurt expression. “I know you’ve smoked it before. What’s the harm in having a little puff now?” 

Despite his long suffering sigh, a grin breaks out on Azriel’s handsome face. “Fine, but if Rhys asks, this was all your idea.” 

Scooting to the edge of his seat, you swing your legs underneath you while the shadowsinger takes the blunt from between your slender fingers. He examines it for a moment before bringing it up to his lips and taking a long drag. The winged warrior’s head rolls back while he inhales the smoke and his long, dark lashes flutter against his sharp cheekbones as he allows the mirthroot to dull his senses.

Azriel hums in satisfaction and the pleased sound sweeps over you like the rumble of an oncoming storm. He lazily opens one eye, grinning when he sees you watching him. 

“Like what you see?” he asks cockily.

Your face heats, but you roll your eyes nonetheless. “The sight of the infamous shadowsinger taking that stick up his arse to have fun with me? Absolutely.”

He sticks his tongue out before taking another drag. “Only you could peer pressure me into getting high while I’m supposed to be keeping you out of trouble.”

“It’s not my fault that the big, bad spymaster has a soft spot for me.”

Azriel flicks your nose. “One that you shamelessly exploit.”

You steal the blunt from his fingers, inhaling deeply while his shadows swirl through your wrist. “What are you gonna do, Az? Take me down to that dungeon of yours and punish me?”

The shadowsinger’s eyes darken for a brief second before he chuckles darkly. You can’t tell if it’s the mirthroot or your close proximity, but something shifts in the air between you and Azriel, a building pressure that grows heavier the longer you’re around him. He swipes the spliff from you and carefully places it between his parted lips with a raised brow.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re nothing but trouble?”

You grin, sprawling your limbs over his legs and settling your head between his lap. “Don’t act like you don’t love being my partner in crime.”

“Someone has to keep you in line,” he replies. 

With the back of your hand pressed against your forehead, you pretend to swoon. “My knight in shining armor. What would I ever do without you, Az?”

“Smartass.” 

Electricity crackles through your fingertips as you send a soft pulse of your power through Azriel’s leg. The shadowsinger yelps in surprise and almost drops the blunt, rolling his eyes in amusement as you catch it between your lips with a wink. 

“You’re lucky you’re my favorite, princess.”

Roughly twenty minutes later, you and Azriel were both higher than Mount Ramiel, gazing up at the stars and pointing out obscure shapes within the constellations. 

“That one looks like a centaur!” you exclaim, lifting the spliff up to the cluster of stars above you. 

“How the hell is that a centaur? It looks like a blob to me.” 

“You just lack the imagination, you giant Illyrian baby. That’s clearly a head and look!” you jab Azriel in the ribs with your elbow, causing the shadowsinger to groan dramatically. “If you squint, that’s a horse’s arse right there.” 

Azriel bursts out laughing, his typically serious expression replaced by a wide grin and red-rimmed eyes. It was comical to see this side of him. The shadowsinger was always so composed and controlled, the perfect picture of the menacing warrior that the rest of the realm viewed him as, but right now as he doubles over in laughter, all you saw was your best friend letting loose for once. 

“We should do this more often,” you state, shifting in Azriel’s lap. He hums in agreement, stirring underneath you as he takes another hit. 

You blink, watching as he takes the blunt between his lips, inhaling generously before releasing a puff of smoke that wafts across your open balcony. With his wind blown hair and glazed golden gaze, you can’t help but ogle Azriel. Gods above, no one should appear this attractive while smoking mirthroot. Anyone else would have looked like a sweaty, strung out mess, but not this male. Azriel was absolutely mouthwatering, which was saying a lot given the fact that you currently had cotton mouth thanks to the mirthroot.

The shadowsinger notices the hitch in your breathing and his free hand toys with the hem of your shirt, slipping his scarred fingers beneath the thin fabric. As the mirthroot reaches its peak, you can feel the hazy effects of the drug taking over your senses, clouding your mind with a thick fog of euphoria. Azriel continues to caress you lightly, smirking when you lean into his touch. 

It’s a dangerous game that he’s playing. Touching you like this was wrong, so wrong, but it felt right even though it barely scratched the surface of where he wanted his hands to be. Your skin feels like silk underneath his calloused fingers and he swallows thickly as a soft, shallow breath emits from your parted lips. He wanted to devour you, take you apart until it’s his name falling from those lips, but you were both high and he didn’t want anything hindering his thoughts when he kissed you for the first time. No matter how badly he wanted to right now. Azriel blinks, attempting to collect himself and tampering down his greedy desire. For now, the expression of utter bliss on your face would have to satiate his need.

“Are you ready, princess?” he murmurs softly. Your eyes widen in surprise, blinking up at him through the fog of lust clouding your thoughts. 

“F-for what?” you ask, the blush blooming high upon your cheeks as your eyes turn upon him, wild and flustered. 

Azriel smirks. He loves seeing you like this, blushing fiercely and slipping out of your usual swagger and confidence to don a doe eyed shyness that was rarer than the egg he gifted you with. 

For a second, he allows himself to imagine what you’d do if he leaned down and kissed you. Azriel would bet all the gold in the Night Court’s coffers that you’d fit perfectly in his arms, tasting of heady mirthroot and sweetwine, melting into him as he takes your face in his hands, but he stops himself before his imagination gets the best of him. 

Instead of indulging himself, Azriel flicks the butt of the spliff and sends ashes scattering all over the moonstone floor. “The blunt. It’s almost out. I think it’s got a hit left, at best.” 

You wave a hand, gesturing for him to finish it off. “Just charge me.” Azriel pauses, toying with the blunt between his lips. He raises a brow, which causes you to roll your eyes in response. “Oh relax, Azriel. I promise I won’t bite.” 

The damned smirk on Az’s face sends goosebumps throughout your skin. He inhales the last of the smoke, holding it in his lungs as he trails over to you. Sitting upright, you half expect Azriel to back out, but instead, his hands find the back of your neck, angling you towards him before nudging your mouth open with his thumb. 

You gladly oblige, feeling a sweep of heat travel through your entire body. Azriel’s mouth barely grazes yours as he exhales the smoke between your parted lips. His warmth, his touch, and his scent washes over like a flood. That golden gaze meets yours, holding you in place as though he was challenging you to cross over that gray area within your friendship. 

While you’ve always been more forward than Azriel, something made you hesitate. You flirted with him plenty of times, dropping a suggestive remark followed by a wink here and there, but you’ve never actually acted on your words. For one, you really didn’t feel like dealing with the shitshow of a reaction Rhys would have if he ever found out about the feelings you harbored for one of his closest friends. And two, you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle the fallout if Azriel didn’t feel the same way about you.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to crush the tension. Luckily, the grumbling of your own stomach beat you to it. Azriel laughs as he holds out a scarred hand. 

“Come on, princess. Let’s get you some food.” 

You really fucking loved chocolate cake.

More importantly, you loved whatever strange power the Cauldron granted to your sister-in-law to make the House of Wind conjure desert by simply asking for it. With Nesta and Cassian watching over Nyx at the River House, there was no one around to judge you for being high off your arse and tearing into the desert as though your immortal life depended on it. 

No one except Azriel, who was currently more inebriated than you at the moment. 

The Illyrian warrior dips a finger into the chocolate cake, licking the icing off with a satisfied hum while you teeter beside him. The sexual tension from earlier still lingers between you, but it was momentarily eclipsed by hunger. 

“Use a fork, you barbarian.”

The shadowsinger shoots you a vulgar gesture in response, which makes you howl with laughter. You take a swath of icing and smear it on his cheek before running off into a sprint, giggling as he chases you across the kitchen. Azriel waves his sticky hands as he corners you into the dining table, swiping icing and chocolate on your nose while you squeal in protest. 

“I really fucking love cake,” Azriel deadpans. 

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

Without giving it much thought, you cradle his face in your hands and lick the chocolate off his cheek. Azriel stills as you shift atop the wooden surface of the table, scarred hands clamping down on your wrists as shadows swarm all around you. He settles between your legs, warm breath fanning over you as a devilish grin spreads across his handsome face. It takes every ounce of restraint for Azriel to maintain a small gap between you. 

“Do that again and I won’t be able to help myself from taking what I want, princess.”

You inhale sharply as electricity crackles between you. Lavender lightning kisses your fingertips, wreathing itself through your wrists in response to the challenge in Azriel’s stare. The way he was looking at you like he intended to devour you makes the dark, rumbling power come alive in your veins. 

The tension between you builds to a crescendo as Azriel examines you with a ravenous grin. Hazel eyes sweep over you, taking in your flushed cheeks, slightly parted lips, and that twinkling lavender gaze that seems to beckon him forth like a magnet. You were breathtakingly exquisite and devastatingly seductive. His own personal brand of poison. 

He shouldn’t - he knew he shouldn’t, but when you look at him like that, Azriel couldn’t resist.

“Then take it,” you rasp, never once faltering as your gazes meet.

With your permission, Azriel grabs your face between his hands and crashes his lips onto yours. The sweetness of the icing clings onto his mouth, but you didn’t mind the taste. The kiss was hot, desperate, and full of need like you’ve both been thinking about this moment for gods knew how long. You gasp as Azriel grips the tops of your thighs and yanks you closer to him. 

The shadowsinger settles between your legs and you greedily wrap them around his trim waist. Azriel groans into your mouth as his scarred fingers grip the back of your neck, tilting your head up so he can taste more of you. His wicked tongue slips past your parted lips while you fist his hair in your hands. 

You’re frantic to feel more of Azriel against you, clawing at his back to take off his shirt while he kisses below your jaw, sucking harshly enough for it to mark. The aftereffects of the potent mirthroot heightens your senses and your body crackles with electricity while the shadowsinger knocks the plates and cups off of the dining table and presses his bare chest against you. Azriel is displeased to find fabric separating you and he’s unlacing your corset with such speed that it falls to the floor before you could even blink. With your torso exposed, he wraps you in a warm embrace and you claw at his back from the sensation. The skin on skin contact ignites your entire body. Azriel hikes the hem of your skirt past your thighs, watching as you shamelessly throw your head back and moan.

“Do you even know how long I’ve thought about this?” Azriel murmurs, nipping at your ear while his rough hand slides up your thigh. “The things I’ve imagined doing to you. Look at me, princess.” He pauses just below your lace panties and you buck at his hand while he chuckles, low and dark and dangerously seductive. “If I touch you, I don’t want it to be because you’re high off of mirthroot. If I touch you, I want you to know that its because I’ve loved you since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

Your heart swells at the sight of this beautiful male. So perfect yet so unaware of how much he consumed your very being. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m embarrassingly, ridiculously, and head over heels in love with you.” 

You grip his wrist, staring at him with an unwavering gaze. “No amount of drugs will change the fact that I’ve wanted you since I knew what it meant to want a male.” Azriel growls as you direct his hand to the growing slickness dampening your lace panties. “I want you, Azriel. Whether I’m sober, drunk, or high off my ass, it’s always you.”

Relief floods the shadowsinger all at once. He’d spent centuries resisting this desire, afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same way about him, but one look at your soft, lavender eyes and he was overwhelmed by the sincerity swimming in your gaze. 

Try as he might to fight it, Azriel has always known. You were his and he was yours. It was written in the stars. 

“It’s always been you for me, too.” Azriel states as he cups your cheek. “My partner in crime.” 

“And your favorite.” 

The shadowsinger chuckles. “And what does my favorite want now?”

You grin. ”I want you to kiss me, Az.”

Azriel didn’t need to be told twice. The kiss is sweet at first, full of tender care while he softly pushes you backwards onto the dinner table, but all bets are off as soon as you bite down on Az’s bottom lip. He growls, yanking your panties down in one swift move. You shudder as his hand palms your exposed cunt. 

You grip the edge of the wooden table, cake and icing squishing between your fingers as Azriel runs his digits over your slit. He laughs as you flick chocolate off your wrist and one of his shadows brings your hand up to the Illyrian male’s mouth as he licks away the remnants of the icing. The sight is sensual and has you pressing your thighs together at how sexy this male was without even trying. 

“The cake is delicious, but I bet you taste even sweeter.”

A shiver shudders through your wings as they flare behind you. The only warning Azriel gives you comes in the form of a smirk before he’s kneeling between your legs and devouring your pussy like he’s been starved for centuries. 

A scarred hand clamps down on both sides of your hips, holding them in place as your back arches off the wooden table. The sticky remnants of desert are all over you and Azriel, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“We’re making a mess,” you breathe in amusement, gasping as Azriel prods his tongue between your flaps and laps up your dripping arousal. 

He smirks against your skin before dragging icing through the inside of your thighs. Mischief twinkles in those caramel eyes while he kisses the side of your knee. 

“I guess I’ll just have to lick you clean then.”

A male of his word, Azriel delivers on the promise and feasts on you until you’re cuming not once, but twice on his tongue. His skilled tongue devours any trace of the icing from the inside of your thigh and you shiver as he does so without breaking eye contact. As you come undone above him, Azriel savors the way your features contort with pleasure, all heavy lids and swollen lips while the back to back orgasms rack through your beautiful form. 

Feminine wings splay out across the table and he gently caresses the lavender membrane, so soft and lovely underneath his touch. The fond smile on Azriel’s face tugs at your heartstrings. You were a fool to ever try to deny yourself of this male. 

“Az, please,” you breathe, cupping his cheek. “I need you.”

Azriel kisses you softly and you moan into his mouth, fingers undoing the front of his leathers as he shrugs out of his clothing. His cock springs free from its constraints, long and thick just as you imagined it would be. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of Azriel in all his naked glory. 

His tall, powerful form, those broad shoulders and solid chest, the perfectly sculpted abs, the battle scars marring his beautiful golden brown skin - you wanted it all. 

“Are you sure, baby?” A glimpse of the Azriel you knew and loved shines through, always putting your needs above his own. 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Azriel.”

The shadowsinger smiles, dipping down to give you a soft kiss before lining himself up towards your entrance. With his forehead pressed against yours, Azriel carefully slides into your pussy. Your mouth falls slack as you adjust to take in his length, gasping at his considerable size. 

Azriel watches your face with rapt attention, brushing stray strands of your dark hair to the side while he fills you to the hilt. He nuzzles his nose against yours with endless patience even though his entire body was aching to move, to fuck into you until you were screaming his name. 

“You’re so big, Az,” you groan as he holds your hips in place. “It feels like you’re splitting me apart.”

“I’ll be gentle, princess.”

You open your eyes, watching this male hovering above you. His golden brown skin is covered in a light coating of sweat, giving him an angelic glow and making his raven locks stick to his sharp cheekbones. You’ve waited too long for this. You didn’t want Azriel to hold anything back. You want him to unleash all of the pent up tension and show you how much he really wants you. 

“Don’t, Azriel. Never lessen yourself for me,” you breathe, cupping his cheek. “I want all of you. Even the parts that you’re scared to let anyone else see. You and I, we’re one and the same. I know you. I see you. I understand you. You don’t ever have to hold back with me.”

Azriel growls, scarred hands gripping the wood so tightly that you wouldn’t be surprised if he broke the table in half. 

“I fucking love you,” the shadowsinger declares. 

You smile, leaning up to kiss him. “I fucking love you too, Azriel.”

Lightning meets shadow as your bodies intertwine, light and dark, day and night, a match and an opposition in every way, dancing while your very souls merged into one. Azriel was the beginning, middle, and end. 

You cling onto him for dear life while his strokes awaken the thrumming power in your veins. The shadowsinger’s hips snap to yours at a relentless pace, unleashing all of himself and holding nothing back. 

“Fuck, Az. Right there,” you whine as Azriel’s tip hits the sensitive spot that threatens to make you come undone. He ruts his hips into yours and you cry out at how good it feels, how right it was to have him filling you over and over again. “Gods, don’t stop baby.” 

Azriel snarls, kissing you deeply as your lips meet with a clash of teeth and tongue, devouring one another like you were trying to crawl into each other’s skin just to feel the closeness you were both craving. 

“So close,” Azriel moans into your mouth. His strokes cause your legs to shake as the pressure builds up in your lower abdomen. “You’re so wet and tight. I could stay buried in you for hours, princess. But I know you want to cum.” 

You whimper as his shadows find your clit and nipples, the cold whisps heightening the pleasure and making you feel overstimulated. The sensuous touch is dark and erotic, a seductive caress over your body. Azriel groans when the scent of your arousal wafts up to him, utterly turned on by the fact that you’re unraveling with the help of his shadows. 

“Let go baby, I’ve got you.”

As if on command, the most intense orgasm racks through your body. Lightning wreaths through your wings and Azriel’s own peak reaches soon after. He swiftly pulls out of you with the intention to spill his seed onto your stomach, but you grip his hips and pump his cock into your mouth, swallowing every drop of his cum while you look up at him through your lashes. 

The curses that fall from his lips is the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. Azriel’s hazel eyes glow golden, biting his lip at the absolutely filthy act of you getting on your knees and sucking him off like he was your lifeline. He pulls you up to his chest, not hesitating to kiss you even though his taste lingers in your mouth. 

“I didn’t want you to have all the fun,” you say with a wink. 

Azriel chuckles. “Gods, you’re going to be the death of me.” 

“Too bad. You’re stuck with me now.”

The shadowsinger wraps you in his arms, pressing a gentle kiss on your temple. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, princess.”

By the time Rhys and Feyre returned, you and Azriel had fallen asleep under the stars in your balcony. After cleaning up the mess that you made in the kitchen, you retired to your bedchambers and took a long bath which ended in slow, gentle sex where you explored one another’s bodies without any rush. Having satisfied the initial tension during your kitchen escapade, it was easier to exercise patience instead of clawing at one another out of need. 

Needless to say, the eventful night left both of you knackered, but neither one wanted to sleep for fear of missing a single second of this magical shift in your relationship. You spent the rest of the night talking about anything and everything with you cuddled into Azriel’s arms like it was your own personal safe haven. 

That’s how your brother and sister-in-law found you, nuzzled into Azriel’s neck with his wings curved protectively around you. The impact of Rhys and Feyre’s landing stirs you from your sleep and you blink drowsily into the twilight. 

“I’m surprised to see that the House is still standing,” Rhys states sarcastically. “Anything interesting happen while we were gone?” 

You share a look with Azriel and bite back a laugh. Rhysand furrows his brows while Feyre surveyed you then Azriel, then you again. Her eyes widen with realization. 

“What is it, Feyre darling?” The High Lord looks utterly confused. His gaze darts down to Azriel’s boots. “Why is there cake on your shoes, Az? And why does it smell like-“ Rhys blanches as Feyre grips his shoulder. 

“For fuck’s sake!” Your older brother exclaims. “You were supposed to be keeping an eye on her, Az.” 

“I’m sure his gaze never left hers this whole night,” Feyre says with an amused smirk. 

You cross your arms. “That’s not helping, sissy.” 

Your sister-in-law holds her hands up. Azriel’s wing curves around your shoulder like a shield and Rhys instantly clocks the gesture. 

“Don’t blame her. I’m the one who started it.” 

A blatant lie. One that your brother clearly sees right through, but his face softens as the silence stretches and you knew then that the two males were having a silent conversation, mind to mind. Whatever Azriel says to him seems to lessen the blow. 

“I’m not thrilled at the prospect of my sister dating my best friend, but I can’t say it’s the worst thing in the world,” Rhys concedes. Stars wink into existence within his violet gaze as he levels an intimidating stare at Azriel. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you of what will happen if you hurt my baby sister.” 

You roll your eyes. Despite the fact that you were five centuries old, Rhysand would never stop seeing you as his bratty baby sister. 

“I know, Rhys. You’ll skin me alive and hang me by my wings.” 

The High Lord smirks. “I doubt it would even get that far, Az. She’ll fry you from the inside out if you ever step out of line and Feyre and I will deal with what’s left.” 

“My mate and his flair for the dramatic,” Feyre says with an eye roll. She clasps you and Azriel’s hands into her own, squeezing giddily. “I, for one, am happy that this is finally happening. I’ve been rooting for you two since day one.“ 

Rhys scoffs. “Whose team are you on, Feyre darling?”

“Sissy’s, obviously,” she responds as she winks at you. “Now come Rhys, let’s leave the lovebirds alone.” 

You watch in amusement as Feyre herds Rhys towards the open air, but not before your brother sends you a reprimand through your mental shield that you respond to by sticking out your tongue. Azriel chuckles while you watch the High Lord and Lady fly away. 

“What did you say to Rhys?”

Azriel pulls you to his chest and kisses your hair. “I told him how much I love you. I promised to protect you, watch over you, and put your happiness above my own. Always.” 

“What did my dear brother have to say about that?”

He only grins. “Rhys said he knows, because he’s witnessed me do it for nearly five centuries.” 

That brought a smile to your face. “Did he have to be that dramatic about it?”  

Azriel cradles you in his arms, smirking slightly. “No, but I’m afraid it runs in the family, princess.”

“You’re lucky I like you, Az.” 

“You love me.” You giggle, nodding in agreement as he kisses your nose. “And I love you.”

“Love you too, my partner in crime.” 

taglist: taglist: @gorgeouslysent, @moony-thoughts, @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets

let me know if you'd also like to be added to my forever taglist 🦋

[brattata]

Windows

Crossposted from my AO3 account, if it seems familiar. Mature content below, so minors please DNI!

Joseph's been putting a lot of work into your real estate business, and it's really starting to pay off. You wanted to congratulate him by christening his fancy new desk in his fancy new office, but things don't go according to your plan.

Joseph Joestar x AFAB reader (no female pronouns used, but reader wears feminine clothing)

CW: Semi-public sex, exhibitionism/voyeurism, creampie, Joseph says “cunt” one (1) time 

“It’s impressive,” you admit, leaning in for an almost-kiss.

Instead of closing the distance, Joseph grabs your hands and pulls you up from the couch excitedly, leading you over to the far wall. “You haven’t seen the best part yet,” he teases. “Watch this.”

He reaches up to press a subtly disguised switch, and it becomes apparent that the “wall” is actually a massive floor-to-ceiling window, slowly revealed from behind the dark wood paneling.

“Wow,” you whisper, pressing your hand to the cool glass. Beyond it is the Manhattan skyline, breathtaking from 15 stories up. The brightness of the city obscures most of the stars, but the thousands of twinkling lights and glowing windows are beautiful in their own way. There are people behind some of those windows, you think – working late, or maybe enjoying time with their families. Maybe taking in the view with the person they love most, the way you are now.

Joseph hums a kiss into your hair, wrapping his arms around you from behind. His comforting weight against your back and impish smile reflected in the glass make you feel so warm inside, your heart could burst.

Until one of his hands slips beneath your skirt.

“JoJo!” you gasp, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Oh come on, don’t be coy!” he laughs. “The champagne, the perfume…that skirt, with no nylons underneath.” His smirk is undeniably sexy, but that only makes you more annoyed. “You didn’t come here for a tour of the new office.”

“No, I wanted to celebrate with you!” You pause. “In your new chair, or maybe on top of your new desk. But not in front of a window, Joseph!”

“Why not?” he asks, almost sounding genuinely perplexed.

“Someone could see!”

“Who?” he laughs again. “It’s late. No one’s watching. Even if they were, they would be too far away to see our faces.” Now he’s trailing kisses down the back of your neck, shameless as ever in exploiting your weaknesses. “And besides, I think you like an audience.”

“I-JoJo, what-,” you splutter, scandalized and yet burning at his accusation.

“I noticed last summer at Grandma Erina’s,” he replies, letting his lips brush against your nape. “When Smokey walked in on us. You remember, right?”

How could you forget? Even now, the memory has your insides twisting with a complicated emotion you can’t quite place. Like embarrassment but sharper, hotter. Exciting.

“I’d never seen you make that face before. Not to mention the way you held onto me…and well, held onto me.” Joseph pauses from tormenting your neck to flash you a dirty little grin. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”

“O-oh, Joseph, I’m. I don’t know,” you trail off. Immediately his chin comes to rest on top of your head, one arm draped around your shoulders and the other curling soothingly around your waist.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to, baby,” he murmurs. “I only want to make you feel good.”

You take a moment, studying your feelings and Joseph’s gentle (but hopeful) expression. Then you unfasten your skirt.

Immediately Joseph lets go of you with a little whoop and a fist pump before tearing into his shirt and tie.

“God, you’re lucky you’re handsome,” you scold him good-naturedly, giggling a bit at his childishness. You kick the skirt away, opting to leave your kitten heels on. Next comes your blouse, which you unbutton slowly for Joseph’s benefit. His shirt is gone, along with his belt. He palms himself lazily over unbuttoned pants, watching your fingers work.

“Don’t forget heroic, a genius, and—“ his bragging is cut short by a low whistle as your bra is revealed, a delicate little number formed of translucent lace. Once you let the blouse fall he can fully appreciate the matching panties, cupping your ass nicely but leaving very little to the imagination. “Baby, you did come dressed to celebrate.”

When you reach back to undo the bra clasp Joseph stops you, lips back on your neck and hands rubbing your shoulders. Instead you tug the cups down until your breasts spill out, earning you a hissed “Niiice” before his hands quickly replace the lace. The contrast is delicious – warm, calloused flesh on one side, smooth and cool metal on the other. Both options have your nipples pebbling almost instantly, Joseph kneading your tits with reverence as if this is a rare treat rather than something he gets to do almost every day.

It is kind of a special occasion.

Before long his right hand drifts down your stomach, slipping deftly into your underwear. You’re so slick he can barely keep a finger on your clit, forcing a whine from you and a low groan from him. “Holy shit, you’re wet! The thought of putting on a show for some strangers gets you this worked up?”

“N-no, I’m excited for you, JoJo,” you coo, hips undulating along with his fingers. “It feels so good when you touch me.”

“Hmm, seems like I barely need to touch you at all,” he replies, back to his smug grin. With little warning he slips one finger inside you, then two, then three. There’s the tiniest sting, but you take them all easily. “See? You’re already ready for me.” It’s hard to argue when his strong, thick fingers are knuckle deep inside you and your pussy is still aching for more. “Since you want it so badly, guess it’s time to stop playing around and have some real fun.” The fingers are gone. “Bend over, baby.”

With a shaky sigh you do as you’re told, bracing your hands against the window and sliding your legs apart. You can’t resist wiggling your hips a little, asking for a playful swat from Joseph’s right hand. His left hand is suddenly gripping your ass, thumb spreading your lower lips open even wider and sweeping the gusset of your panties aside. You hear a zipper and rustling fabric, but instead of his cock, it’s a puff of warm air that caresses your pussy, followed by a firm stroke of his tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” you wail, leaning your forehead against the glass.

“Not until you beg for it, my love,” Joseph chuckles. “I can eat this sweet pussy all night! Make you come until you’re crying for my cock!”

“JoJo!” you moan, desperately. You want to ask what’s gotten into him, but he’s sucking hard on your clit and you can barely hold a thought. He’s always been vocal during sex, but his babbling is usually sweet, not this demanding or…filthy. You love your adorably enthusiastic Joseph, but this version is also thrilling, and it makes you wonder if you’re not the only one excited by imagining eyes on the other side of the window. He’s slurping your pussy so loudly you know it’s deliberate, groaning like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

And for another reason, you realize, when you look at your reflections and see him vigorously stroking his cock. It’s the sight that carries you over the edge: Joseph kneeling with his face buried between your legs, so turned on that he can’t help but touch himself. You come with a strangled squeal, and Joseph gives your clit an affectionate peck as if to say “good job.” He’s gripping the base of his cock so hard it looks painful.

“Fuck me, JoJo,” you gasp. “Please, please fuck me.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

You rest for a bit against the window while Joseph stands and adjusts his grip on your hips. Now there are two thumbs spreading you open completely, which you might protest as embarrassing if you weren’t turned on beyond all pretense. You suck in a breath when the head of his cock finally kisses your opening, only for him to stop before taking the plunge.

“Look at that. It’s show time after all.” Blearily, you lift your head to see a silhouette in one of the windows in the office building across from you. Whoever it is has dimmed their lights so you can’t see much other than a vague shape, but it’s easy to imagine a strange pair of eyes staring into yours as Joseph sinks deep with one thrust.

The sudden stretch and the arousal have you coming again, softly this time, an aftershock of the pleasure you got from Joseph’s tongue. He leans his weight against your ass and holds still, luxuriating in the way you ripple around him, like you want him even deeper. “Fuck, this is good! We should’ve done this sooner!”

“Yeah,” you agree dreamily, grinding back against Joseph while you wait for him to move. He pulls back and thrusts hard, making your palms squeak against the glass.

“Maybe-“ he grunts, “maybe we should try it again on Monday morning. I’ll brace you against the doorway of my office, just like this, and we can show everyone that sexy face you’re making. Show them how hard I make you come.”

“But I don’t want them to see,” you murmur back. “Those things, I only want to show them to you, JoJo.”

“S-shit,” he gasps. “Fuck, you’re so hot. So beautiful!” He has a hand around your breast again, lips, tongue, and teeth trailing across your neck and shoulders just the way you like. He presses his face next to yours and gently tilts your chin up, making you look out the window again. “It looks like our new friend agrees.”

Across from you, the silhouette’s arm is moving back and forth. You can’t really see what’s happening, but you know.

“You’re so sexy, you’ve got him jerking off in the middle of his office,” Joseph laughs breathily. He slips two fingers between your parted lips, stroking your tongue in time with his thrusts. “Who could blame him? Watching those gorgeous tits bouncing above that pretty lace. Imagining his cock is the one pounding out your hot little cunt.”

You stiffen up a bit at the vulgarity and Joseph kisses your temple, asking with his eyes if what he said was okay. “Yes, yes, fuck,” you moan around his fingers, bracing against the glass to shove yourself into his cock, demanding deeper, harder, more. Joseph tilts his head to kiss you hungrily. His wet fingers go straight to your clit where they rub and pinch until you’re whimpering into his mouth, near tears.

“He can’t even hear how wet you are,” Joseph continues. “So wet you’re dripping all over the nice new carpet.”

You laugh a little at that. “As if you’re not desperate to make an even bigger mess, JoJo,” you tease back, lips touching as you pant into each other’s mouths. “Will you clean me up, baby? After you make a mess of me?”

“Fuck yes,” Joseph groans. “I’ll do anything, anything!”

“Come for me. Come inside me. I need it so badly, JoJo.” Whether it’s a plea or a command, Joseph can’t help but obey. He presses his face between your shoulder blades and one lightly Hamon-charged fingertip to your clit, and you’re thrown off the cliff of a breathless, whiteout orgasm. It feels like every muscle in your body is clenching for Joseph’s cock. He’s scorching hot and huge inside you as he fills you up, and you wring him for every last drop. He slowly pulls out and helps you right yourself, turning your back to the window as he leans down for a kiss.

“That was amazing. I love you.” Before you can return the words he’s already sinking to his knees, nudging your legs apart so he can fit between them.

“Joseph, I’m tired,” you demur, stroking his sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

“But I still need to clean up,” he insists. When he grins at you like that, you can’t say no. “I’ll go slow, baby, I promise.”

He starts with your inner thighs, looking very pleased with himself when he gets a few giggles out of you from the ticklish sensation. When his mouth finally reaches your center it is slow and soothing. He’s not trying to force another orgasm from you – just enjoying you, caring for you, showing his love. You don’t come by the time he’s finished, but you don’t need to. You just want him to hold you, so he does.

When you reach the couch he plops down on it, keeping you cradled in his lap. He takes off both of your shoes and stretches out on his back (as much as he can), draping you across his front. He’s warm, and you can feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, and even though you know you’re going to be ungodly sore tomorrow, right now everything feels perfect.

“Thank you,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest.

“Anytime, baby,” he chuckles warmly. He smiles up at you, looking happy but not as content as you feel.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, a little worried. “It was good for you, wasn't it? Not…weird?”

“Of course, it was great for me! Don’t look at me like that!” He reaches for your cheek, rubbing at the corner of your frown. “I was just, ah,” he clears his throat, adjusting your position so that you’re more beside him than on top of him. On the way down, your leg brushes what is unmistakably a semi-erection already straining against his briefs. “I was just thinking about what you said earlier, about ‘celebrating’ on my desk.”

“Absolutely not,” you groan, nuzzling against his shoulder, eyes already closed.

“Your next line is: ‘Maybe tomorrow, JoJo!’”

“Nice try.”

[vibraniumwing]

my stars know about you.

a sam wilson x fem!reader blurb wherein sam finds the old videos the reader has when he was snapped away.

WARNING: a bit of angst and tfatws spoilers for those who haven't watched but aside from that, nothing else.

A/N: ha yes hello i impulsively wrote this bcs my muse was so high all of a sudden and i have this monologue ready for it. listened to this playlist right here and wendy ft. john legend’s written in the stars <3 also, is this still a blurb ??

---

Sam had promised you he would clean around the house while you go on a fun little weekend with Sarah and the boys, wanting to give you more time to relax and be around his family; his lips churning up into a small yet giddy smile at the thought of the small velvet box hiding somewhere in your shared room that contained the necklace you’ve been eyeing whenever the two of you could go out.

He was half-way done with the things hidden in your work drawer when he came across a flash drive that had a label written on it called visual diary. His brows furrowed lightly as walked to his side of the office, opening his laptop and plugged it in, opening the files to see multiple videos titled with dates, the first one from all the way back in 2018.

Sam shifted in his seat, clicking on that certain video only to be greeted by your tear-stained face and bloodshot eyes, under eyes dark from the possible lack of sleep. His heart dropped at the distraught look on your face as you took a deep breath in before looking into the camera.

“hey sam, it’s me. it’s一 it’s been exactly five days since Nat called me about how you were one of the people who, unfortunately, got snapped into non-existence.”

The way you spoke caused goosebumps to form along his skin, realizing that these were probably videos you'd made five years ago, when the snap happened. Sam’s heart was shattered at how lost you looked from the other side of the screen, wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.

“I’m with Sarah right now, she’s sleeping in her room with Aj and Cass. She’s been strong, but you can see the worry in her eyes一 she’s holding up much better than I am though. I’ve been such a mess, I can’t look into the mirror without seeing… feeling you beside me. I miss you.”

Sam stopped the video, his own tears starting to choke him upon seeing the state that you and his younger sister have been. He knew that it was hard, after seeing Sarah struggle with the family business and keeping things together; seeing you wake up at night with cold sweat glistening on your skin as you jolted up from yet another nightmare of him not coming back.

He wanted to stop from diving deep into the videos but his curiosity was stronger. He scrolled through some more videos, randomly clicking on one.

This time, Sam was greeted with a somewhat cheery you, out on the hill you first confessed your attraction to him一 the same night he admitted that he loves you more than a friend, where everything started between the both of you.

“hey there, handsome. i surely hope you can recognize where i’m at right now, if not, then i guess i’m kicking your ass.”

He chuckled, finding your humor amusing despite how lackluster your tone was as you spoke into the camera. Sam reached up to trace your features that were present on his screen, remembering every single feature of yours, engraving it into the forefront of his mind.

“today’s the day we’re supposed to celebrate our first anniversary, sammy. we should’ve been in hawaii by now, swimming with the fishes or explore the beauty of that island. instead, i’m here, in my car alone on the hill where we first admitted our feelings for each other.”

Sam didn’t fail to notice how you were trying your best to hold back your tears, taking note of how your tongue poked the inside of your cheek一 a habit he noticed you would do whenever fighting strong emotions一 and he whispered a small, “Don’t hold your tears back, sweetheart.” and as if you heard him, you let out a small chuckle.

“if you were here right now, i know you would say something like, “don’t bottle those tears up, beautiful” or something along those lines. i want you to know that i’m trying, sam. but it’s hard, it’s been five long months since you’ve been gone and i don’t know how long i can last without hearing you say you love me or your obnoxious laughter that would resonate through the house.”

“I love you, baby.” was all that left Sam’s lips, tongue jutting out to dampen his lips as he listened to you speak, mind blank as too many thoughts about what he wants to say to you as of the moment are too much.

“i’ve told the stars about your laughter. it’s niche and cliche, i know, but mom told me to tell them all about the people i treasure the most whenever i can’t tell others about them.”

“i told them about how beautiful you are一 about how scintillating your eyes are that they could battle even the brightest star in the sky tonight. i let my stars know about how amazing of a chef you are even though you almost burnt my old apartment’s kitchen down because you forgot about the cake you tried so hard to bake.”

Sam cringed at the memory, nose scrunching up in disbelief that he could forget such a simple task; he spent the night apologizing and all you ever did was smile and lean in to give him a kiss in hopes to shut him up.

“i told my stars about how brilliant you are一 how your words are so deep even with the shortest sentences, about how you can easily captivate me and a bunch of others with the stories that you speak… about how much love you have for me and for everyone you care for. it never ceases to amaze me how you can stand up and fight for the people that you love.”

At this point, Sam was already in tears as you shared about how you spoke about him. He adored how your eyes were filled with that well-known fondness you have whenever you speak about something you love.

As the video ended, Sam was left to look at the reflection of himself on the screen, staring at his reflection as your words echoed in his mind. He always listened to you ramble on about how everyone’s destiny was written somewhere in the skies, their lives aligned like the constellations that shined bright in the nighttime.

Normally, he would brush it off, skeptic to that belief but as he tuned into your stories, he can’t help but believe that in what you were saying. Sam was about to play another video when he heard the familiar jangle of your keys in the front door.

Sam pulled out of his chair and raced over there to meet you, immediately engulfing you in a tight hug before you could even close the door. “Hello, beautiful.” he softly greeted, pulling away to place a light kiss on your temple. “How was your weekend away with Sarah and the boys?”

You chuckled softly at the sudden affection he was giving, dropping your duffel bag on the floor to wrap your arms around his torso, feeling how relaxed he was against you. “It was great! Could’ve been better if you were there to be with us.” you answered, reaching up to peck his lips a few times, making the latter smile. “What’s with the affection? Did you break something, Samuel? Wait一 were you crying?”

He shook his head, adamant in admitting that he was, he lifted you up easily as he took you over to your shared office, sitting back down on his office chair with you in his lap as he showed you the compilation of the videos, “I… I found the flash drive while cleaning and I got a little too curious and decided to see what was on it and well, turns out I got a bit more than what I expected.”

“I was going to show them to you one day, Sam.” you admitted, making yourself comfortable as you snuggled up to him, his arms laced around you securely. “But I wanted to make it a bit more… special since this was a very vulnerable time for me.” the softness in your voice made him curl a single digit under your chin to make you look at him.

“I’m sorry that I left you alone for that long, baby girl.” Sam apologized, feeling incredibly guilty for leaving. Despite knowing it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t bring himself to accept that you and his sister had to spend so many years without him. “I know you’ve told me multiple times that I shouldn’t say sorry, but I can’t help it. You’ve waited for so long.”

“And I’ll wait a million more if it meant I could be with you.” you cut him off, shifting slightly to make you face him completely. “You can go anywhere, anytime, for how long and I would wait for you to come back every single time. So please don’t feel guilty about it, love.” your hands holding the sides of his face as you start to pepper it with gentle kisses.

You smile at his peaceful expression, “My heart is in peace knowing that we’re written somewhere in the stars.” you say to him softly, squishing his cheeks in a playful manner, light laughter filling up the room.

Sam smiled, sealing the feather-like kisses with his lips on yours, capturing it for an intimate one that conveyed how much love he has for you, resting his forehead on yours right after. “You know that I love you, right Y/N?”

“I do and I love you so much more, Sam.”

---

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to those whose urls are in bold, i can't tag you for some reason. join my taglist! it's in my main main masterlist <3

[evas-apartment]

would love your thoughts on death of the author, separating art from its creater, etc.!

as someone who enjoys critically thinking about what i read & watch, i love the idea that i control the lens thru which i view plots & characters. maybe the author didn't mean to write these two women as potential love interests or create an allegory for transitioning, but i can, thru my own lens, see it in the story. however, i can also understand that when another author creates a "dark skinned evil race" for their story (very common example in fantasy) it is reflecting real world prejudices that harm real people & that needs to become a discussion imo of the author, their purpose in writing, & its broader effect on other media

This might be a long answer, but I got a lot to say here.

Long story short: Depending on the severity of the of offense, it can become impossible to "separate the art from the artist". But frankly, I've never attached such a large part of myself or my personality to a piece of media, or a celebrity such that I find it impossible to detach myself from something that can hurt people.

Thankfully, I was never that into Harry Potter, but the fact that it's author is a TERF amongst a bunch of other bigoted things like being blatantly racist and blatantly antisemitic should be enough for people. It's basically the "I don't know how to tell you you should care about other people". It's largely about having empathy for groups that you aren't a part of. It's about listening to the people who have been affected by a shitty person's shitty behavior/views/attitudes. Being really into something is special, but being so into something that you blindly defend a bad person in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary leads people to believe that you're bad too. And Harry Potter isn't worth that.

I was VERY into Five Nights at Freddy's, but then Scott Cawthon was revealed to donate money to demonstrably bad people, and I felt my love for something just ebb away into indifference, but that's just me. I LOVED Alton Brown until I saw reports that he made a bunch of shitty jokes (which I haven't been able to substantiate beyond two blog posts, but still) and I was able to just....stop interacting with it. I don't really listen to Michael Jackson's music anymore, but I can admit that it's objectively good music. But the love isn't there anymore. And I'm not going to praise a person that AT THE VERY LEAST shared a bed with and gave alcohol to minors. To relate it to my current hyper-fixation, wrestling, I can watch the matches of Chris Benoit, and admit that he is a phenomenal wrestler, and seller, but outside of that, I wouldn't go out of my way to praise the guy, to buy merch of him, which I've seen someone in real life do, or to say something so stupid as to say he should be in the Hall of Fame, like he killed people. That should be enough.

I feel like there is a greater conversation to be had about fandom culture, about how fans consume media, and attach themselves to whatever golden calf they're into that week. But TONS of people have said that, and this response is long enough, so I guess that's a conversation for another day. (Or another ask if you wanna keep hearing me ramble :P)

So, to answer the original ask, Yes. Viewing a piece of media through your own lens can be great. As a trans woman, it materialistically hurts nobody to headcannon someone as trans, and it makes me feel good. Being aware of stereotypes in otherwise beloved media franchises (the Gerudo in tLoZ, Jinx in Pokemon) is something everyone should be aware of, but go beyond that and actually listen as to why these depictions are offensive. Wonder why the original Fire Temple Chanting was offensive in Ocarina of Time and just have the empathy to hear different people out. As for "death of the author", everything is written with intent, whether intentional or not, and people's worldviews, ingrained biases, and privileges will shine make it through a person's work regardless of genre or medium. People's writing has intent, regardless of what people's interpretations of it is. Basically I don't agree with the idea of "death of the author" cause things made by bad people are usually ingrained with their shit views. Separating the art from the artist is a privilege afforded to those willing to listen to us. But when people like JKR not only include horrifically offensive depictions of people like me, get called out for it, then DOUBLE DOWN ON IT, you lose that right. And that's when we call it. And that's when we call it for people that continue to contribute to that.

And just as a little addendum for the end, saying Miku made something popular instead of the actual creator is worthless, and pirating Harry Potter media helps nobody but yourself.

All that being said, I do enjoy asks, and like receiving and answering them. Thanks for this!

[tennessoui]

🥺🥺 could you please do a snippet of the soulmate/daemon au from Anakin’s POV? It was so cute!

yes!!!! if you haven't read the first part, it's here! and this is a relationship negotiation from Anakin's POV (basically how they get together)

(2k)

Anakin has been dreaming about this moment for years.

His master will cut his braid. And then he, Anakin, will kiss him.

Because he has been waiting to kiss him, Obi-Wan, for years.

His master is his soulmate. This is one of the basic facts of the universe.

His master is his other half. His master may flirt with other people, his master may linger behind when certain damsels are in a certain type of distress, but before all that: his master is his soulmate.

His master is also a Jedi, but that is secondary. Avarie told him so.

Avarie has been with Anakin since he was born. His first word was her name. Everyone in the slave quarters knew about her, about what she meant, but no one could use her to trace his own animal.

(In the slave quarters, having access to a slave’s Animal was akin to having access to the slave’s very soul.)

But Avarie bit and scratched at everyone who tried to touch her and her ice-like pelt. Ice was rare on Tatooine. From a distance, she looked like the rarest sort of treasure.

Anakin grew up knowing his soulmate’s animal was special. Anakin grew up defending her tooth and nail. Avarie defended herself, of course, but even as a slave, Anakin overstepped his boundaries to fend off interested parties.

Avarie was his.

He could not tell his mother how he knew. He could not even tell himself. Avarie was not his own soul. She was a reflection of his soul. She was his soul made foggier. Made distant. Made different.

He’d heard about soulmates on Tatooine. Everyone had. Everyone, even the lowliest slave, knew what a soulmate meant. But he had never expected to meet his on a regular work day, when he was only nine years old and his master was in the backroom behind him.

He had never thought that his soulmate could be Obi-Wan Kenobi; he had never thought about what it would mean if he ever left Tatooine. If Avarie, a creature from a planet so obviously not from his desert world, would ever be called home.

What it means is, obviously, convoluted and complicated.

Anakin thinks that without Avarie by his side through every moment, he would think that his soulmate--his master--did not like him at all.

But she is a reflection of his master’s--his soulmate’s--soul and she never shies away from the touches he gives her. He lives by his chances to pet her once he’s reached the Temple. His master is his soulmate, but his master seems so distant and out of reach. Surely his soulmate would know better. Surely his soulmate would know not to rely on their animal to bring comfort to Anakin.

And yet.

He spends years wanting Obi-Wan’s arms around him. The want sustains him for a standard decade.

There is never a moment Anakin does not know where he is heading. What he is doing. Everything he does, always, is for his soulmate. For his master. For Obi-Wan.

He’s dreamed about his knighting ceremony for years. He’s dreamed about Obi-Wan cutting his Padawan braid so that in the next second he can turn around and kiss him with his lightsaber still lit, held useless in one hand.

After all, hasn’t Anakin waited long enough?

But.

But.

Obi-Wan’s blade makes the cut.

Any second now, Anakin will rise up, turn, and kiss him because there will be nothing formal standing in their way. As soon as Obi-Wan cuts his braid, they will be two Jedi Knights. They will be equals.They will be free by the Jedi Code and standard to leave behind master and padawan. They will just be Obi-Wan and Anakin, soulmates. And yet, still--

Anakin does not kiss him.

He cannot understand why.

There are too many emotions in his chest.

Odyna, his own Force animal, comes to lick at his forehead, as if that’ll make him rise.

He’s paralyzed by indecision. There are such things as platonic soulmates. There are soulmates who find each other and spend their lives with someone else.

There are soulmates who never, ever, ever want to kiss their Jedi master.

And then there’s Anakin.

And Anakin realizes he doesn’t want to do this--whatever this will be--in front of anyone else, so Anakin doesn't press his mouth against Obi-Wan’s.

Instead, he rises from his position and bows to his master. He gives his braid to his master because who else would he give it to?

He waits until he’s dismissed. He walks to their quarters.

He sits at their table.

Avarie jumps up into his lap and settles under his hand with a contented chirp.

Either Obi-Wan has been held up with the Council, discussing future missions that will no longer involve Anakin, or he’s dawdling. What if he doesn’t want to be alone with Anakin? What if he knows what Anakin wants from him and is trying to think of a polite way to turn him down?

Will he be asked to leave these quarters? Sure, soulmates often share rooms, but what if Obi-Wan doesn’t want that from him? Obi-Wan never chose to take him as his Padawan and he certainly never chose him as a soulmate.

Anakin buries his head in his hands. The possibilities are all so awful.

Avarie licks delicately at his chin. Anakin wants to cry. Anakin wants his master. Anakin wants his soulmate.

It feels like ages before his master comes in. Anakin shoots straight up in his chair the second he hears the door slide open. Avarie hisses at him and flounces to greet Obi-Wan, and probably more specifically, Odyna, who flops to the ground as soon as she’s fully through the door.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan says when he catches sight of his vulptex and then Anakin in the doorway. “Hello. I thought you’d be out celebrating with your friends.”

Anakin scowls. All he can think about is the possibility that his master is thinking of the best way to ask him to leave.

“Anakin?” his master looks confused and then concerned. “Are you alright?”

“No,” he says and it’s supposed to come out firm but it comes out sounding like a whisper.

“What do you need?” Obi-Wan asks immediately, mind already trying to come up with a solution for a pain Anakin is content to wallow in for a while longer.

You to love me, he wants to say, but even he’s not that dramatic.

“What’s going to happen to us now?” Anakin reaches up to fiddle with his braid only to remember at the last second that it’s gone now.

“Well, I suppose you’ll grow your hair out for starters,” his master smiles kindly at him. “It’s sort of a rite of passage for any new knight.”

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin crosses his arms and tries to convey just how unimpressed he is. “I’m serious. I’m a Knight now. Do we...do we keep sharing quarters? Missions? Should I put in for...for quarter reassignment?”

Obi-Wan blinks and something that looks like pain flashes across his face for a second before he releases whatever he’s feeling into the Force on his next exhale. His master has always been very good at that. Everything Anakin has ever tried to release into the Force just sinks down inside of him to fester.

“I see,” Obi-Wan murmurs, looking away at where Avarie has managed to climb up on top of Odyna’s back and curl into a tight ball for a nap. “I hadn’t...I suppose I must confess that I haven’t really given it that much consideration yet. But. Of course you can leave if that’s what you want.”

“What if it’s not what I want?” Anakin drops his arms and strides closer. This isn’t the sort of conversation one should have on opposite sides of the room. “What if I want to stay with you?”

Obi-Wan looks more confused, but at least he doesn’t look particularly sad or put off or disgusted with him. “Then of course you can--”

“What if I want to stay with you. As your soulmate. What if I want to stay with you as soulmates do?”

Obi-Wan rubs at his beard. It’s what he does when he’s shocked and trying to get ahold of himself. He’s managed to rattle him, but Anakin doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

“Anakin,” his soulmate finally says slowly. “You’re...you’re very young.”

“I’m nineteen years old!”

Obi-Wan cuts his hand through the air to silence him. “You’re very young. Nineteen is young, dear one. I would hate for you to think that you have to...to settle down with me now, before you have a chance to explore...other avenues...of...romance or sexual...pleasure ....”

“Do you want me to?” Anakin furrows his brows. “Do you need me to go out and sleep with other people before you take me seriously? How many? Ten? Twenty?”

Obi-Wan is starting to look a little pained. “I don’t...it’s not about what I want, Anakin. I...I am trying to say that...that I don’t want you to feel pressured or like if something doesn’t happen between us in the next few days it never will. You’re young, Anakin. And I’m...older.” He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m much older than you, Anakin.”

“I find that attractive,” Anakin declares boldly. Obi-Wan sucks in a breath as if he’s just been punched in the stomach. “No, listen,” he continues when his master opens his mouth. “It is about what you want. It’s about what we both want. We’re soulmates, Obi-Wan. Of course I care about what you want.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes look a little wet, but Anakin isn’t going to say anything that could ruin the moment. His master clears his throat a few times before he speaks. “Of course I want to be in love with my soulmate,” he finally says. Anakin’s eyes widen and he can feel his heart beating faster. Obi-Wan wants him.

But he isn’t in love with him yet. He doesn’t feel the way Anakin feels yet.

Yet.

Anakin can work with that. He can be lovable. He can be endearing. It’s not like Obi-Wan has any other soulmates around.

“You have to understand,” Obi-Wan murmurs, reaching out to place a gentle hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “Until today I was in a position of authority over you. Two years ago, you were a child. Five years ago, I was making sure you made your bed and ate a decent breakfast.”

“You need time to learn how to think of me as your soulmate instead of your padawan,” Anakin nods easily. He supposes he understands. For him, Obi-Wan has always been his master and his soulmate. His best friend who one day would love him above all else. But he can understand Obi-Wan’s point of view. “Alright.”

Obi-Wan looks thrown for a loop. “...alright?” he says, clearly having expected more of an argument from Anakin.

“Yeah, of course. I just told you what you want matters. You waited for me for twenty-five years. I can wait for two.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes are getting a little misty.

“Not that I think it’ll take that long,” Anakin muses mostly to himself. “I’m really attractive. We can spar without shirts on again. That always got me interested.”

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan’s outraged squawk is almost loud enough to drown out his own laugh. Yeah. Anakin can wait for Obi-Wan to love him. He thinks it’ll definitely be worth it. On the floor a little ways away, Avarie has started licking over the fluffed up fur of Odyna’s back, soothing it down with slow strokes of her tongue.

[elendiliel]

Mhi Solus Tome

This may or may not be out of chronological order (I’m not sure whether I’ll actually give the rest of the Bad Batch arc the AU treatment), but it’s been taking up far too much space in my brain for days, so here it is. (I may have taken some liberties with the Jedi Temple’s layout and Jedi traditions in general.)

---

The main hall of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant had long been a place of changes and transitions. It was where padawans became knights, and knights became masters – and, all too often at times, it was where funerals and memorials were held. But on the day that the Clone Wars officially ended, the relatively small group of people who assembled there, dressed in Jedi robes, clone soldiers’ dress greys or senatorial finery, had gathered to celebrate a very different kind of change. A wedding.

The guests had more or less all arrived, even though the ceremony wasn’t due to start for a little while. As well as the bride’s closest Jedi friends and a small selection of the groom’s many brothers, Anakin Skywalker had somehow managed to add his old friend Senator Amidala to the guest list, and she had brought along some of her friends – Representative Binks, Senators Mothma, Chuchi and Bonteri and even Chancellor Organa had made time for the event. At one end of the room, the groom and best man, both in immaculate dress greys, waited at parade rest, and Master Yoda leaned on his stick, either meditating or asleep. (One could never be quite sure with that sly fox, more than a few people reflected, always with the respect and affection the Grand Master of the Jedi Order commanded from all who knew him.) Only the bridal party had yet to enter.

“Stay still!,” Padawan Ma’ro Saszalac almost snapped at her old friend Helli Abbasa. “If I have to redo this again, we’ll definitely be late.”

“Sorry.” Helli tried once more to calm her restless mind and body and let Ma’ro work uninterrupted. ‘Ro had liked braiding Helli’s unruly dark auburn hair ever since they were younglings; Helli had never exactly enjoyed the experience, but treated it as an exercise in patience and selflessness. And there was no-one she trusted more to get her hair – and her – ready for one of the most important days of her life.

Try as she might, though, she just couldn't stop fidgeting, as Ma’ro realised very quickly. “’Li,” she asked gently, pausing her task and moving to look her friend in the eye (through her transparent goggles), “what’s the matter? I haven’t known you this nervous since our initiate trials.”

“Just last-minute jitters. They’re normal, apparently.” Ma’ro gave her a well-practised tell-me-more look (she specialised in diplomacy and negotiations). “I know it’s irrational, but I can’t stop thinking – what if something goes wrong? What if he realises he can do better? And what if,” she swallowed hard, her voice dropping to a whisper, “we’re making a mistake? The Code is as it is for a reason.”

“I thought as much. And you’re right about one thing; it’s not rational to worry so much. Nothing’s going to go wrong – nothing we can’t handle, at least.” That got a smile at last. “You and Torrent are made for one another – just as kind, as gentle, as selfless and as dedicated as each other. You’re as perfect for him as he is for you, and he knows it. And he really does love you. It’s not just a crush or even hero-worship – I’ve seen enough of that to know the difference.” So had Helli. The clones had grown up hearing stories of the Jedi that made them seem like gods and goddesses; under the stress of war, and given how young the men were even biologically, that was a recipe for all sorts of trouble. But Torrent had been Helli’s second-in-command and squad medic for over two years. He had seen her at her worst – angry, afraid, exhausted, grieving, in pain, even plagued by self-doubt. He knew she was no goddess, but a mortal, fallible woman. And he still wanted to share the rest of his life – or her life, as the case may be – with her. “It’s the genuine article. As is your love for him. But you both love your duty just as much. If anyone can make this work, you two can.”

I sincerely hope you’re right, Helli thought, but all she said was, “Thank you.” She meant it. Ma’ro’s words had quieted her fears enough that she could finally sit still and let herself be ministered to. When did she become so wise?

“Calm down, vod’ika,” Cody muttered to Torrent. The older clone had been prevailed upon to act as his protégé’s best man after much deliberation (Torrent had also seriously considered asking Sirocco, his last surviving batcher, but his mentor had had more of an influence on his life – and had recommended him for Helli’s then-new strike team, which made him partly responsible for their current situation). “You’re as nervous as a shiny before his first battle.”

“We’re trained for battle,” Torrent murmured back. He hadn’t realised his fear was that visible, but Cody had just spent three years by the side of General Kenobi, the Negotiator; something must have rubbed off on him. “I haven’t exactly been trained for marriage. And I keep thinking she’ll realise she’s making a mistake and just not turn up.”

“I don’t think anyone is,” Cody countered. “But most people seem to manage. And I don’t know your Jedi well, but I do know she’s a woman of her word, and head over heels in love with you. She’ll be here. And if anyone can make this work, it’s you two.”

Torrent didn’t have time to thank his ori’vod for that much-needed reassurance, because at that moment the doors at the other end of the hall swung open and he lost the ability to think about anything or anyone but the woman who had just walked in.

Helli sometimes joked that nobody could ever accuse her of being beautiful, and even Torrent had to concede that she had a point. Striking, yes; handsome, sometimes; good-looking, when she (or more usually a friend) made the effort. But she’d never really been beautiful – until that moment. The sheer joy radiating from her as she made her way towards the love of her life turned her into the loveliest creature in the room, simply dressed though she was (she hadn’t seen the point of a wedding dress, opting instead for her best Jedi robes, which were closer to the traditional style than the ones she usually wore). Her only ornaments (apart from her lightsabre) were her favourite earrings, blue enamel circles inlaid with the Jedi symbol in silver, a coming-of-age present from her late master, and a single small yellow wildflower braided into her hair just behind her right ear, but she needed nothing else. Ma’ro, as well as emphasising her already stunning eyes and expressive mouth with makeup, had plaited part of her usually wild mane into something resembling a crown, while the rest fell in a curtain around her shoulders and neck. The overall effect rendered her husband-to-be speechless and all but incapable of rational thought for a string of heartbeats that seemed to last a lifetime.

She carried herself almost like a queen – a ruling queen, even as she let Master Fisto (walking beside her, standing in for both her blood-father and her official master) set the pace, and a servant of her people. As she should, Torrent reflected as Fisto took Helli’s hand before putting it in Torrent’s (with the universal look after her glare common to brides’ parents across the universe). She was the queen of his heart, and they were both servants of the galaxy, their hearts divided between their duties and one another. We’ll make it work, he promised himself and her as they bowed deeply and in unison to Master Yoda. (In a traditional Alban wedding, the couple would kneel in front of an altar and tabernacle, but Helli would never kneel to anyone but the Maker.) We’ll find a compromise. Somehow.

He scarcely heard Master Yoda’s unique take on the preamble to the usual wedding service, his distinctive syntax applied to the time-honoured formula, aware only of Helli’s eyes fastened on his, her slim white hands interwoven with his tanned, scarred ones (not that hers were free of scars and calluses), and her clear, faintly accented voice declaring that she did take him to be her lawfully wedded husband. (As of earlier that day, he and all his brothers were legally Republic citizens, and for such purposes it was their biological, not chronological, age that mattered.) Cody had to elbow him discreetly when it was his turn to make the same declaration, but he meant it with all his heart.

They physically couldn’t tear their eyes from one another, even when it was time for Helli to take Torrent’s promise ring from Ma’ro (her maid of honour) and slide it onto the fourth finger of his left hand, reciting the first of the three vows they had chosen. An older variant of the Alban one, using the archaic second-person informal pronoun “thee” rather than the more modern “you”. She had insisted on including the optional promise of obedience in the bride’s vow, in exchange for breaking with tradition with respect to the groom’s promise ring (historically, on Alba only females wore them). He got his own back, though, making the same commitment as he put a matching durasteel band on her finger. She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, before realising what kind of obedience he meant – not the kind a soldier owes their commander, but the kind one spouse owes the other. The kind she had just pledged to him.

The second vow was made in unison, their foreheads pressed together in a keldabe as they spoke aloud the words engraved on their promise rings. Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an. We are one together, we are one apart, we share all. They had left out the fourth part of the Mandalorian wedding vow – mhi ba’juri verde, we raise warriors – on purpose. The whole issue of children was something they had so far always left for another day, but one thing was for certain – no child of theirs, biological or adopted, would be raised as Torrent and so many of his brothers had, knowing nothing but violence. And if they had any say in the matter, there would be no wars for their children to fight.

Then it was Torrent’s turn to make the first move. The third vows were in Twi’leki, taken from the long and complex Jasshi’rr, and he still knew relatively little of the language, despite its being his and Hel’s private tongue. There just hadn’t been time to learn more than the basics. So he wasn’t completely certain what he was saying, but he trusted Helli and Gen- Aayla Secura not to pull a fast one. All the same, it was a relief when Helli – who was fluent in Twi’leki – recited the same words back to him, clearly meaning every syllable.

Finally, Master Yoda spoke again, wrapping one end of his tabard around their clasped left hands. “Pronounce you man and wife, I do.” He took their linked hands in both of his, driving his point home with almost painful pressure. “What joined, the Force has, let no mortal put asunder.”

Helli was very glad the ceremony didn’t require her to do anything more from that point than bow to Master Yoda again, turn and walk back out of the hall, hand in hand with her riduur. She was speechless with joy, of which her heart was so full she half-expected it to burst. And she knew Torrent felt the same. They savoured every picosecond of the too-short time until the apparently compulsory wedding breakfast, the first of their obligations as husband and wife in a lifetime full of conflicts and tension – but even more full, please the Maker, of love and happiness.

“Mhi solus tome,” Torrent reminded her, his thumb running over her promise ring, reassuring himself that it was real. We are one, together. Riduure, for the rest of time.

---

Mando’a glossary:

Vod’ika: little/dear brother(/sister).

Ori’vod: older brother(/sister).

Riduur(e): spouse(s).

Comments?

[fairyoftbz]

Bord de mer | k. younghoon

🧇 pairing: bf!younghoon x fem!reader 🧇 word count: 1.8k 🧇 genre: pure fluff, established relationship 🧇 tw: none 🧇 synopsis: after an intense day of working and studying, you decided to spend the evening out with your boyfriend. 🧇 requested: yes! thank u! 🧇 a/n: i’m a big softie for this man, i love him so much 🥺

╰☆☆☆☆╮

"Finally," you whispered, taking off your headphones after listening to a required documentary for your master's degree, stretching the muscles in your neck as you raise your arms above your head. Drinking the remaining of your glass of water down in one, you sighed and rose from your chair, massaging your temples with your fingertips. Usually, you didn't mind sitting at your computer watching a series or entertaining yourself all day but listening to a record on a boring topic was extremely tiring.

Opening your office door, you closed your eyes and smiled at the good smell that invaded the apartment. You were happy to know your boyfriend was home, feeling even happier when you didn't have to cook.

Younghoon was quietly bustling about behind the hotplates, a kitchen cloth resting on his shoulder. He was still in his outfit from work, his white shirt nicely tucked into his office pants. You walked up to him, stroking his shoulder blades in a gentle, slow motion, your boyfriend turning towards you with a smile. He kissed your forehead as he maintained to keep an eye on the food that was cooking in the pan, a fond smile on his lips.

"Good evening, baby," you said in a soft voice, kissing his cheek. "Honey, you've finally come out of your cave," he joked, and you let out a chuckle, guiltily biting your bottom lip. "I'm sorry, I had a lot to do, and I didn't see the time going by," you confessed and Younghoon shook his head, putting an arm around your waist to pull you to him. "I was kidding, Y/N, I know you are very busy. Is your project progressing well?" "I sent the third corrected draft to my professor assistant, I have a meeting with him sometime next week," your boyfriend listened and nodded at your words before bringing the wooden spatula to your lips after blowing on it. You opened your mouth and tasted if it was cooked, and you smiled at your boyfriend, approving while chewing on the food.

Younghoon handed you the cutlery and glasses that were in a cupboard out of your reach, and he pulled out two plates to set up the succulent dish he had prepared. You were about to get up to help him, but he was faster than you, setting two plates on the table, a bottle of homemade lemonade tucked under his arm. A succulent scent ran through your nostrils and you sit down in your chair, eager to taste what he had prepared for you.

"There you go, my dear," he smiled at you, placing your plate in front of you. 

You thanked him by circling your arms around his neck, prompting him to lower himself so that you could kiss him on the cheek. He smiled at your gesture, quickly pressing his lips to yours before settling down in front of you. Planting his fork on his plate, he watched you out of the corner of his eye, chewing your eyes closed as you savoured the moment, your taste buds kicking in as multiple flavours entered your mouth.

"This is super good, Hoonie," you said as you grabbed his hand, "you did the job of a chef." He beamed at your compliment, taking a bite of meat. "Thank you, darling," he winked at you and you smiled back at him, reaching out to hold your hand. "My little researcher deserves a good meal after all her efforts," you chuckled at the nickname and continued to chew on your bite, losing yourself in your boyfriend's brown orbits.

Younghoon was a man of action. Rather than singing you songs and promising you the moon, even if it was something that he loved doing, he did everything possible to make you happy. If you wanted a pot of ice cream in the middle of the night or some croissants for breakfast, he was ready to go across town for you. He loved doing a lot of things with and for you, though whispering sweet words to you and how much he loves you in your ear remained one of his favourite hobbies. His heart and mind were still occupied with your presence, his happiness increasing as soon as you showed any sign of life.

After this dinner filled with words and tenderness directed to the other, you went to slump on the sofa when Younghoon offered to go out.

"You haven't been outside all day, it will only do you good to see the outside world a little bit," your boyfriend argued as you were giving him soft, pleading eyes, trying to seduce him to not leave your little comfortable cocoon. "But I'm tired," you pouted back, but he didn't want to hear anything. “Come on, let's go,” he punctuated his sentence as he turned on his heels, leaving you no chance to reply. You sighed but got up anyway, following your boyfriend to your bedroom.

Once dressed to go out, Younghoon grabbed your hand and you walked into the garage, the elevator slowly descending into the lower floors. Your boyfriend was leaning against the wall, his head resting against the mirror where you could see your reflection admiring his slender figure. He let out a small, flustered laugh at your intense gaze before taking your arm to pull you to him. You stayed the rest of the descent in his arms, the familiar scent of your laundry making you feel great. It smelled different on him like he had the power to make that scent a source of comfort for you.

The elevator ding stopped your train of thought, Younghoon took your hand and lead you to the car. Once fully seated in the vehicle, he drove off and out of town, gradually approaching the coast. Lowering the passenger window, you could now feel the sea breeze gently caress your face, requiring you to close your eyes at the sweet sensation that invaded your body. Younghoon let his gaze linger over your face, a thin smile decorating his lips as his eyes shifted back and forth between you and the road.

The air smell quickly changed to something fishy and you opened your eyes again when you discovered your destination: the harbour. It was a place where you liked to take a walk during the summer after dinner, to take in the last rays of sunshine and a bit of peace from the city centre. Letting out a sigh as you got out of the car, slamming the door behind you as Younghoon walked to the front of the car, you admired the ocean landscape looming in front of him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, your head coming to rest against his collarbone, feeling him tightening the embrace around you, kissing the corner of your head before rubbing your back.

"Shall we go for a walk?" He grabbed your chin with two fingers, smiling as his eyes turned into two beautiful crescent moons. You nodded and took his hand, forcing him towards the harbour. He laughed and managed somehow to lock the car before walking up to you, circling his arm around your shoulders.

The docks of the harbour were sparsely populated, almost deserted. Parents walking their children in strollers to lull them to sleep, or adults gathering in groups of friends to have a drink or celebrate a raise, hence the sounds of clashing glasses and the disgusting smell of tobacco.

Your stroll was soothing and beautiful, the boats mooring alongside were worth stopping to admire, some yachts making you dream of a life that seemed unreachable. You turned your head towards your boyfriend, who was taking a picture of one of the boats, turning his phone towards you. You gave him your best, natural smile even though you still weren't comfortable in front of the camera, light shivers running through your body as Younghoon looked at the snap with a big smile, happy with his picture of you.

You continued to walk along the docks, watching the boats sway gently in the gentle lapping of the water. The wind had started to blow, but that was not a factor in shortening your ride. Your boyfriend just hugged you closer to him, his hot breath hitting your ear. His embrace was nice, you could almost feel yourself melting into the crook of his arms.

At the corner of a turn, a sweet smell will invaded your nostrils, making you hungry despite the heavy meal you had just eaten. A waffle stand was open, and you enviously watched the pastries bake in the waffle iron. You prevented Younghoon from walking away from you by grasping his hand tightly, his attention immediately turning to what was making your mouth water. You looked at him for a few moments with pleading eyes and he smiled, shaking his head, pulling his wallet out of his inside coat pocket.

"One with chocolate and another with maple syrup, please," you smiled lovingly at him as he placed the order and hugged his arm, thanking him in a whisper. 

You grabbed the waffles once they were ready, and hurried to the end of the dock, shoes sinking into the still-warm sand of a beautiful day. Holding the waffles over your head, you dropped into the floor with the same delicacy as an elephant in order to protect your snack from the grains of sand.

Younghoon sat down next to you, rubbing and slapping his hands vigorously to remove any dirt that had clung to them. The waffle was still hot, and the chocolate was melting in your mouth, making you happy and focusing on the present moment with your boyfriend without thinking about your project.

"It's beautiful," you pointed out, looking at the sea stretching out in front of you as far as the eye could see, your heart filled with happiness as the last rays of sun came to illuminate the sky and the saltwater with magnificent orange and pinkish colours, offering a magnificent spectacle to this part of the world.

Younghoon nodded and finished his waffle in three more bites, wiping his fingers with the small paper towel the seller gave you. He shifted closer and sat behind you, a leg on each side of your body as his arms crossed over your stomach.

"You're as gorgeous as this sunset," he whispered into the hollow of your ear, mouth still half-full and you suppressed a chuckle of embarrassment, elbowing him gently as he giggled while being careful not to drop your precious waffle. "Stop your nonsense," you whispered, and he shook his head side to side with a smile, wiping the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

Younghoon didn't have time to reply as a great gust of wind blew your hair up and you hurried to finish your waffle before it got sandy. The sea started to stir, waves increasing, the clouds were crossing the sky at a slightly accelerated speed, but that didn't stop you from sitting in the sand in each other's arms, smooching and cuddling you until the sun disappeared from the horizon, leaving you in a darker light to whisper sweet words in your ear.

[magictehnique]

One Wish

Jax Teller x Reader

Disclaimer: I do not own SOA or the song. Just the plot.

This little idea came to me the other day. I hope you guys like it!

As a matter of fact I was the one who said I love you first.

It was about eight years ago don’t act like you don’t know. 

Y/n and Jax first laid eyes on each other in high school. Y/n was brand new to Charming and caught the blonde biker’s eyes walking through the halls in ripped jeans, combat boots, and a rock band t-shirt. Throughout high school, she became close to both Jax and Opie. Spent most of her time after school at TM. From day one her and Jax felt there was something other than just friendship between them. Hell, the club and school peers could see it. Many women tried to win over Jax, Tara Knowles included, but none of them could seem to catch his heart like y/n did. 

At one of the infamous Friday night parties, the two friends escaped up to the roof, for some time away from the rowdy men and women. By this point, Jax and Opie dropped out of school to prospect for the club. The two of them sat for awhile, just enjoying each other’s company. Jax being the first to break the silence, “so, you thought about what you are going to do after you graduate?”

Y/n thought for a minute. “I don’t know Jax. I know my family wants me to go to college, but I don’t know what I even want to do. Your mom has offered me to continue working in the office and tending the bar. Couple of the guys said they would teach me mechanics.”

Jax smirked, “they love having you around. You may not have grown up in the club, but you understand this life as if you did. I know it’s your choice but I know I would love to have you around more.”

Y/n smirked back and met his baby blue eyes, “what’re you saying, Jax?”

“I’m sayin’ I love you too much to let you go Darlin’.“

If I had one wish, you would be my boo

Promise to love you. Trust me I’ll trust you.

Y/n and Jax were married five years after the night he confessed his love for her. They didn’t have the easiest of relationships. The club had gone through a lot of shit in those years and theirr relationship was tested numerous times. In the end, y/n and Jax always pulled through. 

The wedding took place during one of the many lockdowns at the clubhouse. Y/n and Jax had been engaged for a few months. Both were sitting at the bar with Jax and Gemma, y/n looking around at all the family and friends gathered here. Gemma looked over at them and said, “so, have you guys set a date yet for the wedding?”

Jax was first to answer, “nah not yet. Been waiting for all the shit to die down. Not only have we had the Mayans starting pissing matches, the other charters have been going through shit.” Gemma nodded in agreement.

“What about now?” y/n said, breaking the silence. Both Gemma and Jax’s heads snapped to her.

“You mean like now? Here?” Jax asked.

Y/n shrugged her shoulders. “Why not? Our friends and family are all here. Chibs is ordained and could marry us. Nows as good as any. I don’t need some lavish wedding Jax. As long as I’m saying vows and kissing you at the end, I don’t care how it happens.”

Jax broke out into the biggest smile she had ever seen. He grabbed her face in his hands and gave her a passionate, and loving kiss. Gemma was beaming at the pair in front of her. She couldn’t have picked a better girl for her son than y/n. 

Jax separated from y/n and whistled, getting everyone’s attention, “hey everyone! Y/n and I decided that instead of waiting, we’re going to get married right here, right now. We love all of you so much and want you to be apart of our big day. So Chibs, you mind marrying me to my best friend?”

Everyone starting clapping and cheering for the couple. Chibs walked over and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “I would be honored brotha.”

The rest of the night was spent celebrating y/n and Jax’s marriage biker style.

If I had one wish, we would run away

Making love all day. Have us a baby.

Three years had passed since the wedding and y/n picked up more hours at the office while Gemma took a step back. Clay was getting close to stepping down as president and the two wanted to have more free time to enjoy their “retirement”. Jax’s demands and time with the club had started to increase. Y/n knew it would happen, but it didn’t stop her from missing her husband. She made the best out of the time they were able to spend together.

She was sitting at the desk in the office, rubbing her temples to ease the headache she woke up with. Gemma walked in the door, “hey baby how are you feelin’?” For the past couple of weeks y/n hadn’t been feeling well. She was always nauseated and tired. The past few days she spent her mornings hunched over the toilet seat throwing up. 

“Awful. I haven’t been able to shake the nausea and the headache,” she replied leaning back in the chair.

Gemma looked at her for a second before replying, “when was the last time you had your period?”

Y/n’s head snapped up. “I don’t know, maybe a month ago? I think. I don’t actually rem... wait, you don’t think I might be pregnant do you?” Y/n replied.

“Only one way to find out,” Gemma reached into her purse and pulled out a  couple pregnancy tests. “I got these the other day at the store. Wouldn’t hurt to do them.”

Y/n grabbed the tests and headed towards the bathroom. A long three minutes later she was staring at all three tests bearing the same result: positive. 

Gemma let y/n take the rest of the day off and relax at home. She was happy Jax had been taking care of club business and hadn’t been at the shop that day. As soon as she got home, she was pacing back and forth, thinking about how she was going to tell him. Sure, they had talked about babies and how much they wanted kids. Any other time she would be ecstatic, but the club was going through shit and Jax already had enough on his plate. He had been getting home late at night and leaving before she woke up in the morning. She couldn’t think of the last time they shared a meal together. 

The rumble of a bike pulling into their driveway pulled y/n out of her thoughts. She turned around right as Jax was opening the door. He looked at her with a smile that quickly turned to a look of concern when he saw her face. “Hey darlin’, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

Y/n took a deep breath before answering. “You know how I’ve been feeling a little under the weather lately? Well I found out why. I’m pregnant Jax.”

Jax stood in shock. She could see various emotions flashing through his eyes; shock, confusion, fear, and happiness. “Wait, really? You’re serious, like hundred percent sure?” He asked, walking to her and cupping her face with one of his hands. 

“Yeah. I took three tests. They all came back positive.” Jax leaned down and gave her a hard kiss. He didn’t have to say anything else, the kiss conveyed everything.  

When they finally broke apart, he crouched down and lifted up her shirt, placing a few soft kisses on her stomach. Y/n ran her hands through his hair, eyes tearing up at her husband’s actions. 

He looked up at her and said, “you don’t know how happy you just made me.”

If I had one wish, I’ll make you my whole life.

Sitting on the picnic bench, Jax reflected on his life and how it’s turned out. He had no clue what he did to deserve the life he had. He looked across the lot where y/n was talking to his mom. She had their youngest child on her hip, the second oldest was playing with other kids in the play area, and his oldest was in the shop, learning how to work on cars with their uncles. Y/n was his rock in this life. She kept him grounded, always his support to lean on, always willing to help the club when she could. She never once tried to change him. Never once asked him to leave this life. She trusted him to turn the club around make it safer. Legitimate. And that’s what he did. 

If he had one wish, to go back and redo his life, he wouldn’t. Y/n, the kids, and the club were his whole life. He already has everything he could have ever wished for. 

[vibraniumphoenix]

my stars know about you. [ s.w ]

a sam wilson x fem!reader blurb wherein sam finds the old videos the reader has when he was snapped away.

WARNING: a bit of angst and tfatws spoilers for those who haven’t watched but aside from that, nothing else.

A/N: ha yes hello i impulsively wrote this bcs my muse was so high all of a sudden and i have this monologue ready for it. listened to this playlist right here and wendy ft. john legend’s written in the stars <3 also, is this still a blurb ??

updated a/n: BYE I FORGOT THAT I WROTE THIS AKDFNKFJN my heart is so soft hhhh

---

Sam had promised you he would clean around the house while you go on a fun little weekend with Sarah and the boys, wanting to give you more time to relax and be around his family; his lips churning up into a small yet giddy smile at the thought of the small velvet box hiding somewhere in your shared room that contained the necklace you’ve been eyeing whenever the two of you could go out.

He was half-way done with the things hidden in your work drawer when he came across a flash drive that had a label written on it called visual diary. His brows furrowed lightly as walked to his side of the office, opening his laptop and plugged it in, opening the files to see multiple videos titled with dates, the first one from all the way back in 2018.

Sam shifted in his seat, clicking on that certain video only to be greeted by your tear-stained face and bloodshot eyes, under eyes dark from the possible lack of sleep. His heart dropped at the distraught look on your face as you took a deep breath in before looking into the camera.

“hey sam, it’s me. it’s一 it’s been exactly five days since Nat called me about how you were one of the people who, unfortunately, got snapped into non-existence.”

The way you spoke caused goosebumps to form along his skin, realizing that these were probably videos you’d made five years ago, when the snap happened. Sam’s heart was shattered at how lost you looked from the other side of the screen, wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.

“I’m with Sarah right now, she’s sleeping in her room with Aj and Cass. She’s been strong, but you can see the worry in her eyes一 she’s holding up much better than I am though. I’ve been such a mess, I can’t look into the mirror without seeing… feeling you beside me. I miss you.”

Sam stopped the video, his own tears starting to choke him upon seeing the state that you and his younger sister have been. He knew that it was hard, after seeing Sarah struggle with the family business and keeping things together; seeing you wake up at night with cold sweat glistening on your skin as you jolted up from yet another nightmare of him not coming back.

He wanted to stop from diving deep into the videos but his curiosity was stronger. He scrolled through some more videos, randomly clicking on one.

This time, Sam was greeted with a somewhat cheery you, out on the hill you first confessed your attraction to him一 the same night he admitted that he loves you more than a friend, where everything started between the both of you.

“hey there, handsome. i surely hope you can recognize where i’m at right now, if not, then i guess i’m kicking your ass.”

He chuckled, finding your humor amusing despite how lackluster your tone was as you spoke into the camera. Sam reached up to trace your features that were present on his screen, remembering every single feature of yours, engraving it into the forefront of his mind.

“today’s the day we’re supposed to celebrate our first anniversary, sammy. we should’ve been in hawaii by now, swimming with the fishes or explore the beauty of that island. instead, i’m here, in my car alone on the hill where we first admitted our feelings for each other.”

Sam didn’t fail to notice how you were trying your best to hold back your tears, taking note of how your tongue poked the inside of your cheek一 a habit he noticed you would do whenever fighting strong emotions一 and he whispered a small, “Don’t hold your tears back, sweetheart.” and as if you heard him, you let out a small chuckle.

“if you were here right now, i know you would say something like, “don’t bottle those tears up, beautiful” or something along those lines. i want you to know that i’m trying, sam. but it’s hard, it’s been five long months since you’ve been gone and i don’t know how long i can last without hearing you say you love me or your obnoxious laughter that would resonate through the house.”

“I love you, baby.” was all that left Sam’s lips, tongue jutting out to dampen his lips as he listened to you speak, mind blank as too many thoughts about what he wants to say to you as of the moment are too much.

“i’ve told the stars about your laughter. it’s niche and cliche, i know, but mom told me to tell them all about the people i treasure the most whenever i can’t tell others about them.”

“i told them about how beautiful you are一 about how scintillating your eyes are that they could battle even the brightest star in the sky tonight. i let my stars know about how amazing of a chef you are even though you almost burnt my old apartment’s kitchen down because you forgot about the cake you tried so hard to bake.”

Sam cringed at the memory, nose scrunching up in disbelief that he could forget such a simple task; he spent the night apologizing and all you ever did was smile and lean in to give him a kiss in hopes to shut him up.

“i told my stars about how brilliant you are一 how your words are so deep even with the shortest sentences, about how you can easily captivate me and a bunch of others with the stories that you speak… about how much love you have for me and for everyone you care for. it never ceases to amaze me how you can stand up and fight for the people that you love.”

At this point, Sam was already in tears as you shared about how you spoke about him. He adored how your eyes were filled with that well-known fondness you have whenever you speak about something you love.

As the video ended, Sam was left to look at the reflection of himself on the screen, staring at his reflection as your words echoed in his mind. He always listened to you ramble on about how everyone’s destiny was written somewhere in the skies, their lives aligned like the constellations that shined bright in the nighttime.

Normally, he would brush it off, skeptic to that belief but as he tuned into your stories, he can’t help but believe that in what you were saying. Sam was about to play another video when he heard the familiar jangle of your keys in the front door.

Sam pulled out of his chair and raced over there to meet you, immediately engulfing you in a tight hug before you could even close the door. “Hello, beautiful.” he softly greeted, pulling away to place a light kiss on your temple. “How was your weekend away with Sarah and the boys?”

You chuckled softly at the sudden affection he was giving, dropping your duffel bag on the floor to wrap your arms around his torso, feeling how relaxed he was against you. “It was great! Could’ve been better if you were there to be with us.” you answered, reaching up to peck his lips a few times, making the latter smile. “What’s with the affection? Did you break something, Samuel? Wait一 were you crying?”

He shook his head, adamant in admitting that he was, he lifted you up easily as he took you over to your shared office, sitting back down on his office chair with you in his lap as he showed you the compilation of the videos, “I… I found the flash drive while cleaning and I got a little too curious and decided to see what was on it and well, turns out I got a bit more than what I expected.”

“I was going to show them to you one day, Sam.” you admitted, making yourself comfortable as you snuggled up to him, his arms laced around you securely. “But I wanted to make it a bit more… special since this was a very vulnerable time for me.” the softness in your voice made him curl a single digit under your chin to make you look at him.

“I’m sorry that I left you alone for that long, baby girl.” Sam apologized, feeling incredibly guilty for leaving. Despite knowing it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t bring himself to accept that you and his sister had to spend so many years without him. “I know you’ve told me multiple times that I shouldn’t say sorry, but I can’t help it. You’ve waited for so long.”

“And I’ll wait a million more if it meant I could be with you.” you cut him off, shifting slightly to make you face him completely. “You can go anywhere, anytime, for how long and I would wait for you to come back every single time. So please don’t feel guilty about it, love.” your hands holding the sides of his face as you start to pepper it with gentle kisses.

You smile at his peaceful expression, “My heart is in peace knowing that we’re written somewhere in the stars.” you say to him softly, squishing his cheeks in a playful manner, light laughter filling up the room.

Sam smiled, sealing the feather-like kisses with his lips on yours, capturing it for an intimate one that conveyed how much love he has for you, resting his forehead on yours right after. “You know that I love you, right Y/N?”

“I do and I love you so much more, Sam.”

---

[syilcawrites]

a/n: hi I’m alive and I wrote this bc of a prompt that @zelink-prompts​ put out!! I thought it’d be a fun little exercise for tonight! It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything, so I’ve been wanting to get something out ehe. Here’s to posting at 2 AM (I apologize in advance for any typos)! Hope you enjoy!

summary: [Pre-Calamity] It’s Zelda’s 16th birthday and King Rhoam decides to throw a lavish masquerade ball in celebration. Zelda is not happy (when is she ever happy pre-calamity ;-;)

ao3

a party of floating eyes

“I just simply—” Zelda grunts and winces as Impa tightens the corset around her waist, “—simply do not understand why this is such a necessary tradition!” Her fingers dig into the fabric of her vanity chair with enough force to chip her nails.

“Your Highness,” Impa starts, tying the lace, “if we start straying from such traditions, the people will begin to worry.”

Her frown deepens—she knows Impa is right, but every second she spends lolling around with trivial palace affairs, she can feel her precious time slipping away from her.

“Besides,” Impa continues, pulling Zelda’s hair back and smoothing it out, “you’ll be turning sixteen—your birthday has always been a big celebration.” 

Zelda straightens her back out, squirming uncomfortably under the tightness constricting her waist. “Well, if people cared so much about me, I wish they’d let me spend my birthday as I please,” Zelda grumbles, picking up the black, lacy mask that sits on her chair before plopping down onto the cushion. She crosses her arms, staring at her reflection with tinged annoyance.

“I know, I know.” Impa laughs softly. “Just try to focus on all the possibilities that will open up to you once you do hit sixteen though,” she encourages. “Besides, doing this will let the people know that we have everything under control. The less worried they are, the less chaotic the future will be.”

“But everything’s not okay,” Zelda sighs out, rubbing her temples. “I have yet to unlock—”

“You still have the Spring of Wisdom to go to next year. Don’t jump to conclusions, Your Highness,” Impa rebukes quickly. Her fingers work quickly through Zelda’s hair as she begins braiding down her back. “And we shouldn’t give up on the Shrine of Power and Courage, no?”

 Zelda remains quiet.

Of all the things she could be doing to prevent a catastrophe, she has to attend another cursed ball. A celebration for her birthday is far from something she wants.

“Only one night,” Zelda mutters, lightly slapping her cheeks. If she dutifully plays along with her father’s antics, perhaps he will ease his expressions of disappointment toward her.

“A little bit of hair here…” Impa tugs out strands of Zelda’s hair to frame her face. “There! You look lovely,” she says with satisfaction as she places her hands on her hips. Zelda flits her gaze away from her reflection against the mirror to her ajar bedroom window. She can already hear the sound of carriages bumping along the roads and the neighs of the horses resounding through the dark night.

“He’ll be there, won’t he?” The corset feels even more constricting when she thinks about him. That boy . She has to keep up—she cannot afford to fall behind any further than she already has.

“The young knight?” Impa inquires, squinting her eyes in thought as she maneuvers around Zelda to look inside her jewelry box. “I believe he’ll be patrolling the castle grounds.” Zelda relaxes her shoulders as she stares at Impa’s back. “Zelda. You shouldn’t avoid him. You know that you will have to cooperate with him in the future.”

“I’m not.” The lie feels sharper against her tongue than Impa’s gaze. “I’m not avoiding him. I was just… curious.” A half-truth is better than none. Zelda toys with the black ribbon straps of her mask, picking at an unraveling thread. She lifts the mask up to her eyes and tilts the corners of her mouth up.

Zelda has many masks, and adding another one is harmless.

  ——————————————————————

Be graceful. Be elegant. Be poised.

-

Don’t blink too often. Don’t eat too much. Don’t laugh too loudly and never laugh without a hand over your mouth.

 -

Zelda sneakily picks at the piece of bread that Impa had snuck to her earlier, nibbling on it in between greetings and returning plastic smiles—but the music. The music is irritating Zelda. There’s an instrument out of tune—a violin, maybe—and every time the bow strokes the A string it lets out a glaringly out-of-tune high-pitched squeal.

The only good it does is mask the growls of her stomach. She is starving, but starving is something that she has grown familiar with. Starving for food, starving for affection, starving for power, starving for—

“Your Highness?”

Zelda immediately hides the piece of bread behind her back and glances up at the soft voice. A Zoran who resembles that of a Fuschia flower—Princess Mipha, wasn’t it? If she recalls correctly, Mipha is one of the candidates for the Divine Beasts.

“A-A gift,” she continues, her cheeks tinted pink. “For your 16th birthday.” She holds a palm-sized box out to Zelda—baby blue with a white ribbon.

Zelda blinks at it for a moment, a bit dazed. No one has ever really handed her a gift-wrapped present before. Most of the guests have been handing them to her father—extravagant gifts that were mostly catered to him anyway—and now there is a gift for her here, directly being handed to her. They’ve only spoken to each other once, during Zelda’s mother’s funeral. Aside from that, whenever they had the pleasure of being in one another’s company, they acknowledged each other.

“Thank you,” Zelda says stiffly, accepting it with her free hand as she stares down at it. She brushes a thumb over the smooth surface of the box. Zelda sneaks a glance at her father, who is busy talking to another guest. She stuffs the bread in her mouth—earning a wide-eyed look from Mipha. “Pardon me, I haven’t eaten all day,” she admits sheepishly, gulping it down quickly. 

“Oh dear, you haven’t eaten at all?” Mipha almost gasps, her expression strung up in worry. Zelda waves her hand at her and shakes her head.

“I’m sure the last guests will arrive soon.” She holds the box with both hands now. “Is it alright if I open it up now?” Zelda asks, lowering her voice a little. A warm smile spreads across her face. She nods.

Zelda tugs the ends of the ribbon—it slips out of the knot easily—and lifts the lid. The object sits comfortably against a red velvet cushion: a stained glass flower. Zelda lifts it up slightly up in the air—an array of colors dance across Mipha’s face as she views her through the glass.

“I’ve recently taken up glass welding,” Mipha says quickly, fidgeting with her fingers. “I’ve heard that you’re currently researching an endangered species of flora. Although this won’t particularly aid in your research… I apologize…” she trails off, sounding faint.

“It’s beautiful!” Zelda clasps her hands over Mipha’s. “This is the best gift I’ve received today, there’s no need to apologize.” A smile breaks across Zelda’s face. A handmade gift? For her? A recreation of the Silent Princess at that! She tries her best to keep the excitement from brimming out of her voice. “It’s lovely, Princess Mipha. Thank you.” She clears her throat as she catches her father staring at her from the corner of her eyes.

“I’m grateful that you like it, Princess Zelda.” Mipha beams happiness, with a look of relief. She glances at the entrance—and does a double-take.

“Oh, please, enjoy the celebration and the food.” Zelda gestures to the ballroom, sitting back down. “We’ve cooked our finest dishes.” Food that she wishes she could eat herself, but she has to stand at the entrance with her father because he won’t let her get up until everyone has come through the door.

Mipha curtseys—she has always been so elegant—as she wishes Zelda a year of happiness, before quickly hurrying to the door. 

Zelda follows her trail, and watches her happily clasp the hands of—Zelda involuntarily scrunches her nose at the sight that she sees before her. Impa had told her he was patrolling outside on the castle grounds. Why in Hylia’s name is he inside the ballroom?

“Zelda, I would advise against raising your voice like that. People are watching.” Her father’s voice isn’t unkind, but chastising. She hates it.

She looks down at her dress, to straighten out the wrinkles of the dark blue ballgown. The sheer fabric has been irritating her the entire night, and she’s almost positive that she’s lost a diamond droplet or two that had been sewn onto the dress. “Father,” Zelda whispers, glancing at him. “This feels like a waste—”

“It is important to remain friendly with our diplomats. You know this. Especially with the prophecy—we must remain united with the others.”

Well, it wouldn’t matter if they were united or not if she couldn’t unlock her sacred power. She’d rather spend her birthday standing in the water of a Spring than next to her father.

“Just do as I say tonight for once, Zelda. For my sake.”

She balls her hands into a fist, scrunching up the skirt of her dress as she does so. “All I ever do—”

“Your Majesty!”

Her voice gets drowned out by the incoming guests, and she is soon tossed into the shadow of her father once more.

  ——————————————————————

Zelda makes sure to stay across the ballroom from Link—it’s easy to do so, considering how much he sticks out like a sore thumb. It’s easy enough to avoid a stranger—the lack of familiarity makes the task simple.

“A drink, Your Highness?” a passing maid asks, lowering the metal tray for her.

“So much for a masquerade, you can recognize me from a mile away can’t you?” Zelda murmurs lightly, grabbing a strawberry pink drink.

“Your beauty is unmatched. It’s hard not to notice you,” the maid says kindly as she bows her head.

Zelda lets out an uneasy laugh—compliments never sit comfortably with her. “Well, thank—”

“His Majesty would like to formally introduce a faithful knight of the Hyrule Kingdom, who has proven his worth and skill at the young age of ten,” the Court Poet announces, ceasing side conversations down to a murmur.

Her father—looking rosy-cheeked and kind, as he always is in front of guests—ushers the knight out of the crowd, and into the middle of the room with him. “This young man has risen through the ranks and proved his devotion in keeping peace within our lands at a very young age, and even the Goddess Hylia has blessed him—Link, the Knight who has drawn the Sword that Seals Darkness.” Her father’s voice is nothing short of impressive. He’s able to cease conversations within seconds, by the strength of his voice and presence. Zelda quirks an eyebrow up as she stands on her tiptoes to see above the sea of heads—a very stiff-looking boy standing next to a large, bulky man who is taller by half his height is quite a scene to see. “He will fight alongside my dear beloved daughter Zelda, to maintain this peaceful, prosperous time.” 

Eyes shift to her—black and beady behind the masks they adorn. Zelda grits her teeth as she bows into a deep curtsey.

 -

One… two… three…

 -

She straightens her posture and clasps her hands in front of her gingerly. As long as she doesn’t make eye contact with anyone, she’ll be fine. Just smile.

Zelda tilts the corners of her mouth up.

Coos of oh’s and ah’s reverberate off the walls of the ballroom, shaking her to her bones as they clap.

“To commemorate, the Hero and the Goddess-blood Princess will offer the first formal dance of the night,” the Court Poet announces loudly, spotting her almost immediately.

Her smile drops from her face, and she methodically shifts her narrowed eyes to Link.

He stands as stiff as a board.

She takes long, brisk steps to the center of the room.

 -

Be graceful, elegant, poised.

 -

Do not look into their restless eyes, because they will worm their way through the black of her irises and find out she is a Goddess-blood Princess who has been abandoned by their savior.

 -

Zelda stares at the creases between his eyebrows as she approaches him—they’re one step away from bumping noses.

He places a hand on her waist, but it mostly hovers over her, like he’s afraid he’ll burn himself if he gets closer. Zelda places one hand on his shoulder. His other hand floats in the air, unsure. She grabs it hesitantly, and settles to look at his lips instead: pressed into a thin line. He doesn’t want to be here, either.

The music starts jarringly, like the morning bell that rings at six in the morning. The violin is still a pitch to high—why hasn’t anyone noticed it yet? Not even the conductor?

Zelda digs her nails into his shoulder as they move—the brush of wind that follows their movements eases the anger that has risen in her.

“Just do as I say tonight, for once, Zelda. For my sake.”

And dancing with the boy who has fulfilled his part of prophecy will help complete hers?

They miss a beat—he steps in at the same time she does, and her forehead almost smacks against his. Zelda almost trips over the skirt of her dress as he accidentally steps on her foot.

She glances up at him—his mask is simple, but it’s as light as starlight and makes her squint a little. Her eyebrows furrow together. It doesn’t last long once she remembers the hundreds of eyes that watch their every movement.

But then he does it again.

Zelda sucks in a sharp breath. “You do know that there is plenty of space for you to step upon aside from my feet, right?” she murmurs between her teeth, making sure her smile is still plastered on her face. The edge of his ears flushes red.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers with a brief, apologetic smile. There’s a finality to his voice that makes her tilt her head in curiosity.

He steps on her toes again.

Zelda’s mouth twitches—she bites her tongue to distract herself from the pain shooting up her foot. “You don’t know how to dance, do you?”

His ears turn a shade darker.

A small sigh escapes between her lips. She straightens her back and tightens her grip on his hand. “Keep your eyes down and follow my feet.” She repositions her other hand to rest more securely on his shoulder. She would prefer not to have a mouthful from her father for messing up the first formal dance of the ball.

Their eyes catch—vibrantly blue and innocent. He nods. 

Even though he concentrates on the pattern of her feet lilting across the marble floor, he still brushes against her heels. She glances up at him—beads of sweat roll down the side of his face as he concentrates on their feet, with the tip of his tongue sticking out ever so slightly.

Zelda swallows back the giggle bubbling up her throat.

“Hm, think of it as… sword fighting practice, maybe? There’s formation in that is there not?” Zelda inquires. A good knight must be efficient at their footwork, or else they’d stumble over during a fight and fall. “Try to be light on your feet like when you’re fighting.”

“Like fighting,” he echoes, his face lighting up at her suggestion—she feels the tension chip away from his shoulders as they make their rounds, passing by the ambassadors and royalty encircling them. 

Zelda keeps her voice low: “Left, back, right…” she instructs him quietly, as her own shoulders relax at his slight improvement. At least he isn’t stepping on her anymore. The music becomes tolerable, once she decides to focus on their own two pairs of feet sliding across the floor and the sound of his breathing.

The loud, booming round of applause drags her back to reality—she releases her hands from him immediately and takes a step back to do a quick curtsey.

“Thank you.”

The sound of his words catches the tail end of the wind—quiet, almost inaudible. She raises her head, but by the time she does so, the crowd greedily surges toward them to fill the empty space that used to belong to them.

[mominousrex]

The Jola Moon (A Rexsoka FanFic) - Chapter 12: TRUTH IN RUINS

Warning: NSFW 18+ ONLY - EXPLICIT CONTENT

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting this on Tumblr. I have the link to AO3 pinned on my chapter list.

Word Count: 12K+ (yup, it’s a long one!)

Thanks to Catmama9, @chromia7567 & @elsaanna007 for beta reads on this!

Thank you to all who keep reading, hearting, reblogging, sending kudos & comments

🙌🥰🙌

Ch. 12 - Truth in Ruins

They stood on the balcony taking in the majestic scene that lit up the night. Naked as they were, their bodies still glistened with sweat and radiated with pleasure. Ahsoka could hear their heartbeats pounding away as Rex’s hand gently took hers. Standing side by side, they balanced the ecstasy of what had just happened with the alarm that they were not alone.

“I assume, Rex, this is the bird?”

“Yup. Nosey little thing, isn’t she?”

The gentle, green bird huffed adorably at his comment.

Rex huffed back as he used the clothes he had grabbed to attempt to cover his manhood.

Ahsoka chuckled at the exchange. Though they didn’t feel immediate threat or danger, they were still cautious. He knew this was Ahsoka’s area of expertise, or at least he hoped it was.

He draped Ahsoka’s cloak over her shoulders as he started to put his black pants back on.

“Do not be alarmed. I do not watch what is shared between you. That is yours to share only. My place is in the realm of the world between the worlds. I sense how you are, but your life and the choices you make are yours. The connection between you two is quite powerful. It can reawaken the light, but only if you let the Force guide you.”

The voice was powerful yet delicate, feminine, and assured. There were harmonizing layers to the being’s voice, resulting in some hypnotic effect. The words gently echoed a whisper to ensure the listeners were attentive and calm.

“Witness all that you have awoken here.”

The little green bird closed its big green eyes and turned its little stocky feathered body around to face the lagoon, the jungled forest, the waterfall. Streams of stardust were dancing in the canopies of the wild woods. Perhaps the glittering specs were tracing the trails of a single creature or maybe thousands of them. Where once there was only darkness, now a mesmerizing scene of patterned colors, all shades and hues glowed with enchantment. Ahsoka noticed it was pulsing with their heartbeats.

“Rex? Give me your hand,” she held hers out as he finished tying up the drawstring.

“What is it?” He readily offered her his hand, allowing curiosity to command him.

“Feel this,” she relayed as she brought his hand to her bare chest over her heart. He felt her heartbeat regulating, “Now look at the trees over there.”

It took him a moment, but once Rex saw it, it was incredible. He noticed other areas of the forest were pulsing with his heartbeat. At the same time, the spot Ahsoka initially had pointed to pulsed in time with her heart’s steady tempo.

They looked at each other with amazement and then turned their baffled looks to take in all of the sights. The glow of deep purple from the lagoon reflected off the skin of their faces. Even though the beauty of the deep jungle forest seemed to be a celebration of their impromptu ceremony, they both shared a healthy dose of skepticism. This was mainly due to their uninvited guest, who was still calmly perched on the balcony railing, looking away from them.

“You have been feeling the Force growing in you, Ahsoka, haven’t you? There will be hope and regret, pleasure and pain, joy and sadness; these things cannot live without the other. There will be balance again. You will meet me at the Temple of the Mother and begin your tasks as light kisses the land for the new day.”

“The Temple? You mean the ruins?”

“Ruins!” The laughter that followed was lazy and slightly condescending,

“So much to learn. But you will know the truth. You see ruins where truth lives. It is a wonder the Jedi Order lasted as long as they did.”

The comment was strange, almost dismissive of the entire Jedi Order. Ahsoka knew she was dealing with a Force-sensitive being, one that was not dark or threatening. Still, she was as lost and puzzled as she was before meeting this gentle-looking creature.

Rex moved to step behind Ahsoka,

“She’s speaking to you? I only hear the bird’s calls now. Do you…do you hear the woman’s voice?”

With this information, Ahsoka needed to be careful. There was a reason Rex could not hear the conversation between her and this presence.

“Do you have a name? What do I call you?”

“You need a name. Of course. You may call me Morai.”

The name struck a chord deep within her.

Where do I know that name?

Ahsoka chose her next words carefully. This being wasn’t being cryptic to be cruel. She sensed its wisdom was ancient and knew its presence was easily one of the most powerful she had ever felt in her Force consciousness.

“Morai, this…Temple of The Mother…when I arrive by dawn, will you be there? I may not be able to enter. I am no longer a Jedi.”

“Jedi?! You are not required to be a Jedi to enter the temple.”

Ahsoka could not precisely determine where, when, or why this being seemed so familiar, but it was unavoidable. The bird’s physical presence was unquestionably a vessel carrying in it something deeply connected to her sense of the Force. This being was no stranger. Still, in all her lessons, research at the Jedi library, or in-depth discussions with more learned masters, nothing struck a single memory of any Temple of the Mother.

“Ah…you are trying to remember. You won’t. We had to make sure none of you remembered.”

“Remember what exactly?”

“ Do not get ahead of yourself, young one. Meet me at the Temple of The Mother by dawn. You will continue to follow the path you have begun, Ahsoka Tano. Your trust in the Force will guide you. There are no distractions on the path. No detours in your heart. Your feelings are open, Ahsoka Tano. The act of searching is how one finds themselves. Search your feelings on your path.”

Rex heard Morai then and slightly tensed, unsure what to make of now being included in the conversation. Ahsoka nodded at him to confirm they were okay, and she understood his small reactive body language signal.

Ahsoka still felt no fear or threat of harm. If she weren’t naked with her cloak over her shoulders, she would have begun the journey right then and there, waiting for the dawn outside this temple. Neither she nor Rex had been tracking the hours of the moon’s rotations. The beginning of the Jola Star over Splendor could be in a few short minutes, or it could be another few hours.

“ And as for you, Captain Rex, you must complete your first task before dawn sets its light on this moon.”

“My task? Whatever Ahsoka needs, she knows she can count on me. Consider it done.”

The bird chirped a sequence of coos and trills that faded and changed into a new voice, one that was quite different from the echoing mystic tone it had vocalized so far. The new voice sounded younger, still feminine, but plain, as though it was some young woman just sitting on the railing talking to Rex.

“You’re one of those big-hearted troopers, aren’t you 7567? Hmm…yeah, you’ll be a hero one day, I bet. Maybe you can help me now?”

Rex stumbled back on his heels and almost lost his footing. Ahsoka turned reactively to see Rex’s face had an expression of confusion and dazed horror as the voice continued,

“It’s so strange…you remind me of this boy I knew. He had blonde curls and sweet eyes just like yours. He never did know how much I…oh, nevermind.”

Even Ahsoka understood that tone. The plain voice still managed to be flirtatious, sultry, and thick with seduction. A fire lit up in her chest, and her face was flushed. She was experiencing a bizarre combination of unexpected arousal with stinging, awkward jealousy. Now she had nothing to say and was left staring at Rex with her mouth agape as the bird fluttered its wings. Then, without any goodbye, Morai unceremoniously flew off.

Rex’s mouth shut tight. His eyes went from wide shock to immediately narrow, fixed on looking at the floor. And yet, he was the first to break the silence,

“We should get going. You have to be there by dawn.”

Barely acknowledging Ahsoka’s presence, he headed into the lodge without another word. His tone was painfully small and severe. Rex had never spoken so coldly to her in three years of friendship, except once. In no way did she feel like slicing into his beautiful skull again to remove a problematic memory. Whatever his task actually was, Rex was going to have to do this on his own.

Not since their first encounter on Christophsis had Rex ever seemed this distant. Ahsoka sensed Rex’s feelings twist and shudder. He was deeply mortified, she knew, and it appeared the grim stoicism of Rex’s conditioning as a clone had returned as a defensive reflex.

All the warmth Ahsoka had felt from him these past two days was now frozen and hidden deep within him. She winced at the jarring sensation of his emotional gates locking up and barricading any entrance.

Hesitantly, Ahsoka followed Rex back into the lodge as she eyed the colorful glow from the lagoon and forest. It had not dimmed, but the pulsing in the forest canopy was off rhythm. The radiant lights that outlined the once dark paths gave a steady rhythm.

Closing the glass doors behind her and clutching her cloak, she realized Rex had already huffed off to the bedroom.

She looked around. Remnants of their earlier passion were still sprawled out over the table and the floor. Rex was so unsettled and out of character that she didn’t want to crowd him. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to be around him at the moment. She certainly wasn’t going to confront or chase after him.

Something in her knew this wasn’t about her. She was just a witness to something he positively did not permit to be revealed. Whomever that voice was, and she had an idea, Ahsoka was sure that asking right now would be a mistake. She knew him enough to know that much.

Ahsoka pulled her cloak from her shoulders. The same cloak Rex had draped over her shoulders with such tenderness. The cloak had many different meanings to her, but it had lost a piece of itself to honor their bond.

I guess this is the love part. His love is mine to protect.

She laid the cloak on the golden sofa. An odd site was its faded brownish-gray fiberweave against the lush golden silk upholstery. Both fabrics were essentially the same shade of color; one was considered drab and muted, the other elegant and refined.

She decided to start cleaning up. Ahsoka figured if she could be naked and make a mess, she could be naked and clean it up. Fortunately, it wasn’t that much of a mess. She may have cheated with the dried cherries and used the Force to pick them all up.

Ahsoka pushed in the chairs and surrendered to the memory of the wild heated pleasure she felt only moments ago when Rex was wholeheartedly giving her all of himself. Her toes curled at the thought of how gentle his tongue and lips had been on her most sensitive areas. The deep masculine moans of satisfaction that he hummed against her skin just from pleasing her.

Even as she stacked the bowls and plates, her thighs were still sore from his muscle-powered hip bones that had perfectly pounded pleasure in and out of her. The delicious and raw sight of his manhood inside her. That intense and focused look of determination on his face as he pumped into her and squeezed her breast haphazardly. She would forever recall his lip curled, heavy breaths and grunts that made her feel both incredibly powerful and desperately weak.

She stopped her movements when her breath finally hitched at the memory. Was she cruel to still be burning with desire for him right now?

“Oh, don’t do that now.”

His voice jolted her arousal further, even though he returned to his small but authoritative tone. She turned around and took in the dizzying sight before her. Rex was in his full armor kit, save for the helmet at his side hip under his arm. He placed the helmet back down for a moment and loaded his DC-17s back into their holsters. He once again picked his helmet back up, held it there on his hip as he moved towards her, as he spoke the words,

“Go get dressed, and I’ll clean up.”

If her breath was struggling before, it was completely missing in action now. Her breasts heaved with desire as she attempted to get air back into her lungs. Seeing Rex in his full armor once again was intoxicating. An officer’s demeanor, poised and respectful, he was all business right now. He was looking at her like he had never touched her once. Oddly, so strangely Ahsoka was so kriffing sure this was the sexiest sight she had ever seen.

Knowing every part of him under that armor made her head spin and her stomach flutter. He was impressive, dominating, and she could finally say it: gorgeous.

If only she were wearing clothes to cover her nipples perking up and the sudden dripping of desire pooling between her sex below. She instinctively squeezed her thighs together, and the friction was unavoidably arousing. She bit the inside of her cheek to muffle the small moan. She wasn’t sure what the exact protocol was on forcing Rex to the floor and making him feel as good as she knew she could, but Ahsoka was pretty sure she needed just to cool it at the moment.

Just feeling like this was thrilling, and she had no idea why? Maybe she was looking for a victory, something to strategize about, pursue and attack.

Rex stepped closer to her. He was trying to look away, but he couldn’t help it. She hoped Rex could feel her body radiating this want and need. Maybe he just couldn't hold up this act of indifference anymore?

“Please go get dressed so that we can head out.”

That sounded painful, she knew. It was clear that Rex was in agony trying to maintain this distance.

She narrowed her eyes. Ahsoka wanted to kiss him so badly, to trace the growing scratchy stubble on his face and neck that drove her wild and roughened her skin. Instead, she allowed her years of training and practiced patience to guide her. She smiled at him softly. Rex reacted with a “don’t do that” look as he breathed heavily to maintain composure.

There will never be a distance between our hearts.

She covertly handed him the binding fabric with her other hand, never taking her eyes off him as she spoke,

“I know this isn’t about me, Rex,” she cupped his face, and he couldn’t help but lean in and allow her touch to soothe him. His brows softened, lips closed tight as he grimaced with the conflicting emotions battling inside him.

“Thank you.” It was all he could get out.

He took her hand in his, and she felt him almost kiss her fingers but restrained himself at the last minute. His eyes looked directly into hers. He had her full attention, and she was hanging to any word he was about to say. Ahsoka still couldn’t quite catch her breath; Rex’s lustful dark stare made her lips part. He was clenching his jaw, preparing himself to speak again,

“Now go get some clothes on, Tano…before I get angry.”

A slight, naughty grin escaped and formed on his lips. Evidently, there was only so much he could hold back. Rex allowed his hint of attraction to hang there, not willing to negotiate or move, as he stared her down to follow his command.

Her eyes opened wide as a wild pang of arousal forced her tongue to seize command of wetting her lips. She bit down hard on her bottom lip to control herself.

Oh, Force. We may not actually make it to the Temple by dawn.

—————————————————————————————————

They had been walking in the dark jungled woods for a little over an hour. Back in her battledress, her tunic, tights, knee guards, and vambraces felt empowering. As comfortable and liberating as it had been to be practically naked for the last rotation, she was equally comfortable in battle armor. She had gotten dressed quickly in the lodge and only realized Rex was waiting outside the whole time. Unlike the lagoon and the woods beyond, the dense and overgrown cloud forest they were walking through now was still dark and eerily silent. Even space travel had subtle sounds, but there was nothing out here in the dark and thick woods.

Their exchanges were brief, polite, and restrained.

“We can go this way.”

“Okay.”

“Is that the path there?”

“Not sure. Let’s see.”

Ahsoka had kept her distance in front of him. Finally, she decided to climb up a Lombi tree’s sprawling and buttressed roots, allowing her to speed up the massive trunk. Then she Force leaped off it to catch a vine where she could swing back and land just within Rex’s pace.

She was doing her best to expel the energy brewing in her. But this was beginning to drive her mad with curiosity. Rex was hiding behind his helmet, she knew. Maybe she didn’t need to push him on the subject of his task, but playing this game of avoidance seemed instinctively wrong. Physically, they were on the right path back to the hangar, where they had seen the columns of a temple buried in the ground.

Emotionally, they were lost and walking in circles.

“Rex, can we stop and eat? I hope you brought the jerky.”

Rex stopped suddenly. Without words, he whipped around his rucksack and pulled the bundle out,

“Here you go. I brought the jerky and some potatoes. Let me know if you want some water.”

He held out the sack of food to her. She looked at his jaig eyes, then searched for his real eyes behind the visor.

“Thanks, Rex.”

He then continued walking. After a moment, he shouted back at her, “I think we should keep moving. You can eat on the way.”

Ahsoka wasn’t going to budge. It was his task to complete, and maybe he didn’t even need her to do it.

“No.”

Rex stopped suddenly,

“What?!”

“I’m fine. You can move ahead, and I’ll catch up!”

Ahsoka happily started gnawing on some jerky, watching Rex fluster in his armor. She knew precisely what that looked like, and she had achieved it.

“You— you can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Ahsoka yanked the jerky from her teeth, casually reacting to Rex’s impatience.

“Because…because! I have to complete my stupid task for the damn bird or whatever.”

“Her name is Morai, by the way,” she bit off another piece and used the leftover to gesture her words,

“Remind me, what exactly is your task, Rex? It wasn't clear to me what that was all about at all. You haven’t really said a word about it since we left.”

Rex had had enough. He just wanted to get to the temple, do what he needed to do, and then safely get her in and out of there to do whatever Force nonsense she needed to take care of. Then, well, he had no idea what to do after that.

Rex convinced himself that Ahsoka's attraction would disappear after completing his task. Rex felt like he wanted to scream, vomit, and punch away at every tree they walked by.

She’s still eating and just standing there. Is she serious right now?

“Ahsoka, we should keep moving.”

“No secrets, Rex, you promised.”

“This isn’t about a secret, Ahsoka! Dammit. It’s my life! My pathetic excuse for a clone’s life!”

Rex’s outburst resulted in him only upsetting himself. Ahsoka didn't even flinch. Rex was grinding his teeth, balling his fists, and cursing himself as the energy transferred from rage to remorse.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to get angry around you.”

“I’m alright. You’re angry…and I’m eating.”

Kriffing karkshits. She looks as pleased as a nexu chewing on its latest kill. I just need a little more time.

“Would you please keep moving?”

“Tell me what your task is, Rex, and I’ll consider eating while we walk.”

Fine. If I’m supposed to tell her, then I’ll let her know the whole damn thing.

“Ahsoka, that voice. Those words. They…,” Rex sighed out his frustration, “they were all from…my first time...”

“Okay. I figured it was something like that.” She grabbed one last piece and started working on it as she walked towards him.

“So…wha–”

Rex was shaking his drooped helmet. He would rather have done anything except this,

“I guess…my task is…aw hell. I don’t understand why this is so important? I mean, it was cute when you asked me about it, a turn-on even, but now? I just— I don’t get why I need to talk about any of this? Look, Ahsoka, when I tell you this, it’s not as simple as—”

Ahsoka was quiet, patient, and quite frankly, stunned. Rex had started to pace so intensely he was starting to create a small trench in the ground. Ahsoka realized she had never seen Rex so anxious and unsettled, especially in his armor.

His powerful, sleek, and intimidating armor was useless right now. It could protect him from external attacks, but not from attacks within himself. The clanking, clicking, and tap-tip-tapping of Rex walking out his anxiety created a peculiar rhythm. The clamor of it was either going to make Ahsoka laugh or, worse, start making her anxious. Instead, she chose patience, stillness, and simple observation.

Rex was exposed and had no route of escape. His emotions were panicked, and she could feel a clawing within him that struggled as if caged in and desperate.

His feelings were clawing—to not come out. They were grasping at anything to stay locked away and never be released.

Rex continued to verbalize his frustrations, starting exasperated sentences but never finishing them. Ahsoka took a final step coming up behind him. She inhaled a deep breath and let it out. She had only one thing to say. Words with more profound sincerity and truth that she had never expected to speak to anyone,

“I love you, Rex.”

“…and it’s not like I was— What?”

The words snapped Rex out of his downward spiral. Immediately, he felt his shoulders relax as his helmet, and then his body turned to face her. The sound of his breathing in his helmet’s respo system made him finally realize how worked up he had become. In an instant, she had calmed him.

“I said I love you. I know I didn’t say it before when we did the binding. But you did. You said it so easily. You surprise me, Rex, how open you are with me. I don’t—“

“Come here. Please.”

Rex took off his helmet and held it on his hip. Ahsoka stepped closer to him but not entirely closing the distance yet. Remarkably, it was the same distance from him that she had stood in the Tribunal’s hangar control room. When she removed his helmet then, Rex allowed Ahsoka to see his heartbreak over the nightmare they were facing having to fight against his brothers, their men.

Rex recalled the shame of his tears then trying to process their situation while the massive Venator ship’s hull was exploding, and their escape seemed impossible. The options they had were: kill, surrender or die.

But they found another way, and they did it together. Ahsoka had been strong enough for both of them at that moment. Just like she was doing right now.

“I know you love me, Ahsoka, that we do love each other. I just…I have no idea what any of this means or what to do with it. Especially when…when I don’t like this part of my life from back on Kamino. I don’t like thinking about it, remembering it, any of it. Now, the one thing that I never wanted to think about ever again, I have to tell you.”

She looked at him intently. Their bond was still undeniable; moments like this went way beyond the genuine raw attraction she felt towards him now. First and foremost, they were always there for each other and had been through much worse.

She put the food bag back in his rucksack as she spoke,

“Rex, as much as I cannot stand seeing you upset…and I really don’t like seeing you upset, feeling your pain, it is far worse for me to feel it and watch you try to hide what you are feeling.”

“I’m sorry. I am trying here.”

“I know you are. This is all still very new…for both of us,”

She finally moved in to close the distance, took his helmet from his hands, and clipped it on the latch of his kama belt for him. She then wrapped her arms around him, armor and all. This time it was a full embrace. Squeezing through the protective plastoid pieces, her hands then found their way to feel for his vulnerable spots, until she guided them to clasp around his neck.

A short time ago, Rex had no idea what to do with such affection. But now, his hands naturally found her waist with a firm grasp teasing the fabric of her battle dress until his fingers ran over the belt of her beskar kama. Beskar may be considered the strongest metal in the galaxy, but the thought of easily ripping it off Ahsoka right now made his cock twitch in his codpiece. Rex's left hand tugged at the belt until it finally tucked itself under. Against the thick fabric of her dress, his hand happily secured a spot to be as close to her as he could.

He faced her with an apologetic expression. Ahsoka’s eyes were fixed on him with her luminous bravery and compassion. She would not let him cower one more minute.

Before he even registered another thought, Rex quickly reached his gloved right hand under her jaw and pulled her mouth close to his, stopping short of the kiss. Ahsoka whimpered in earnest. All of the pent-up attraction he had held in lingered just a breath away from her mouth, begging for him to come closer. Each breath was like a bellows that stoked the burning desire between them.

Rex traced his thumb over her full and sumptuous lips, and she kissed the worn leather and duraweave. He needed her lips on his painfully. Instead, he decided to work his way there, tilting her head gently then assertively bringing his lips, tongue, and teeth to her neck to worship her skin with his mouth. Ahsoka moaned deeply as his name escaped her lips, punctuated with a whimper. Rex grunted as his cock shifted painfully in his codpiece.

She had saved him…again.

Something about the way she looked at him now was empowering. That toxic self-pity that invaded his thoughts earlier was still clamoring for him to retreat again. The awful narrative screamed in his head that Ahsoka would figure out he was nothing, not worthy of her one bit. That this was all some cruel joke meant to remind him he should be rotting dead on a battlefield somewhere right now. What made him so special?

She does. She makes me see that I am worthy of her.

With each wet trace of his tongue and graze of his teeth against her skin, his passionate wild kisses fought off the bleak thoughts that tried to drag him down and away from her again. As his lips worked their way up her jaw, he softened his approach as Ahsoka desperately attacked his lips, finally returning to hers.

He let her have her way briefly, enjoying her mouth shamelessly devouring his, open and receiving her needy exploration. Then he tempered her fiery kisses by bringing both hands to trace her lekku tails gently. The lightest touch caused her to shiver with pleasure as her breath shuddered. Rex enjoyed being fully in control like this, and he was pretty sure Ahsoka was begging for more of him to be just like this.

“Shhhh…easy there, you.”

“Oh…Rex, please, please don’t stop .”

“I told you, we need to keep moving.”

He hummed the playful warning into her montral, then licked and served her a long wet kiss over her blue chevron stripe where the thickest part of her lekku began to drape from her montral. Ahsoka’s nails were pointlessly clawing for purchase at his bicep’s rereplate armor and plastoid plackart over his tensing abdominal wall.

He moved his hands under her skirt to grab two strong handfuls of her bottom’s cheeks, kneading the flesh vigorously as he pulled her to him. Ahsoka was now all over his neck, driving him wild again. Rex used every fiber of muscle in his body to pull his neck away. He grinned appreciatively at her and spoke at almost a whisper,

“We have to stop, Ahsoka,” he kissed her montral gently, then pressed his forehead to hers, “we have to.”

“Wha?” she whined as she was catching her breath, “Uh..huh, okay. Rex’s hands squeezed their way back to her waist and held her still.

She didn’t seem to care about his armor, but he sure did. Rex wanted to tear off every piece of his armor and feel her hands all over his skin like before. He missed how good it felt to mold her body to his in these quiet embraces, the soft feeling of her breasts pressed against his chest. He yearned for how she would trace the hair on his chest or when she would dance her fingers on the trail of his lower stomach, instantly resulting in him getting hard and trying to control himself.

“Rex? Can I tell you something that I’ve kept secret from you?”

“What happened to no secrets?” he was tracing under the belt of her beskar kama, largely failing at his attempt to get his erection down,

“Of course, you can,”

“After I left the Order, I was staying where I could. I meditated a lot. I walked even more. Sometimes for days without sleep. Coruscant is a troubled place, Rex. So many people were neglected, cynical, and felt invisible to the Republic and the Jedi Order. I just kept to myself and took a vow of silence for some time. Everyone thought I was mute. It was strange for me to be seen and treated as helpless.”

“I can’t imagine anyone seeing you as helpless. You’ve helped so many people around the galaxy, Ahsoka. There are entire systems that would probably hide us if we could get there.”

“We’d be risking their safety. Silence is quite powerful, Rex.”

“I hate that you were all by yourself, even if you chose to be.”

”I’ll tell you this, in the most blighted areas of the lower levels, of course, I saw horrible, awful things, but now and then, some stranger would show me kindness. From these strangers, beings of all kinds, I could follow their light and help others in small ways. I had reached a place of contentment and acceptance except for one thing,”

“What was it?”

“I…I couldn’t stop thinking of you, Rex. I spent so many days and nights thinking of you.”

“ Me ?” He cocked his head around her montral to get a look at her. She was pressed against his cuirass and in the crook of his neck, not budging an inch or letting him go.

“Yes, you, Rex! I understand what it’s like to hide from your feelings. It all just came out of nowhere. I could live with missing everyone at the Jedi Temple. I accepted that I had to leave and made the right decision. Things would never be the same for me there. But then, out of nowhere, thoughts of you would just pop up—just you. My days and even some lonely nights would be happier, though. Then after a couple of months of trying not to think of you—“

“Months?! Ahsoka, months?” He squeezed her tighter and kissed her forehead.

“Yes, months. I finally thought of trying to contact you. But then realized, I…I started to get worried that, you know…maybe I would never see you again. So I chose to do nothing. Lock it away, get quiet, and let go of my attachment to the memory of you. But you were alive the whole time, still fighting, still surviving.”

He took her chin between his trigger finger and thumb and pulled it to look at him; then, he slid his fingers under her lekku tail. His thumb now traced the white skin of the marking on her left cheek. He said nothing with words, but his touch spoke to her, and she continued,

“Rex, your friendship, having a person like you in my life, it was so important to me, and I had no idea–“

“—until you were gone.”

Rex easily finished her sentence. He had experienced the same painful realization.

Ahsoka felt that deep in her heart. She looked up at him, hoping the words would come out right,

“And to be clear, I wasn’t…I seriously never thought about you in this new way, like the way I am now, and frankly always am thinking about you like that now—“

“You are? No...right now, you say?”

“Rex! Don’t tease me right now. Do you have any idea how attractive you are? How…kriff…Rex, everything under my skirt is still buzzing from us on the table. I’m pretty tough, Rexter, but it hurts, and I like it. Rex, I really, really like it.”

Rex’s gloved hands squeezed her tight against him.

“Don’t talk like that right now, Tano. I’m trying to feel sorry for myself here and work up the nerve to finally…tell you what I have to tell you.”

Realizing what he just stated, Ahsoka stepped back out of his hold to make sure she was paying attention.

“Let’s walk then, tell me as we walk,” their hands reached for each other and met between their bodies walking side by side. They naturally fell into the comfort of holding each other's hands,

“Well, I’m going to warn you right now, Ahsoka, it's a boring, embarrassing story about a young recruit who had absolutely no idea what he was doing.”

“Is it that bad, Rex, really?”

She sensed palpable nervousness in him, trying to hide his feelings, not pain, almost heartache. Sure, she was curious about who the lucky girl had been. What about her did Rex find attractive? What was Rex even like before the war consumed his days? What had happened to their relationship, if there was one at all? But mostly, Ahsoka wanted to know why he was so highly guarded about it.

The look on her face revealed she was prepared to hang onto every word. She took this seriously and was alarmingly enthusiastic. Rex knew that look on Ahsoka’s face. His memories of holotables, with Skywalker and General Kenobi relaying with the Jedi Council, were all twisted up now, confusing her more mature and painfully desirable face.

Back then, the topic was countering separatists attacks, risky maneuvers, and usually trying to capture Grievous. But her gorgeous cheekbones, big jeweled eyes, and those lips that made him needy and bold, well, they might be disappointed when she hears his pathetic tale of youthful embarrassment.

“Why do you think this excites you so much?”

“Honestly, Rex, I don’t know. Maybe because I haven’t had any kind of sexual experience until here with you, I just wanted to hear about yours. Plus, I felt comfortable enough before with you to listen. I still do.”

Rex hadn’t considered that part. It would never have been appropriate to have discussed any of this with her. Even though they had spent so much time together just talking the hours of space travel away, it would never have even crossed his mind. She was surrounded by mostly men at such a critical and young age. Clearly, Skywalker had avoided the subject with her. Ahsoka truthfully had no one to tell her anything about this subject.

It was a miracle by the stars that she never ended up getting an impromptu education from the boys in the 501st. Thankfully, because of what Rex’s generation had to endure, the soldiers that came after were predominantly respectful towards anyone they may find attractive, especially their Jedi officers.

“Rex, I know we are more than friends now, but I’m still here as a friend who will listen to you. Have you talked to anyone about what happened?”

“No, never,” he squeezed her hand tighter, “You can sense my feelings about it, can’t you?”

She nodded to confirm and was a bit shy about that herself,

“I know you can’t help that, Ahsoka. It’s kind of comforting that you can, now that I think about it,” he brought her hand up and kissed it before letting their held hands drop,

“Ahsoka, my first time, first kiss, first everything wasn’t at all like what I hope I’ve given you. It was a very different first-time experience. This is why it's been very important to me that you have had an experience where you know that I care about you… a lot. This isn’t just fooling around to get off. I don’t enjoy that at all.”

“You have given me that, Rex. And you continue to surprise me with how fortunate I am to be with you. ”

Ahsoka now wished she hadn't been so childish with her pleas to make him tell her about his first time.

“I feel bad now for pressing you to tell me the story before. I didn’t know it would bring up so much pain for you.”

“It's not that bad, Ahsoka.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I mean I have to tell you now. The damn bird knows about my first time, so it’s only fair you do.”

“Agreed.”

“The simple version?”

Ahsoka nodded “yes” in response.

“Okay, here it goes. So the Kaminoans hired these women for us clones…to help us…uh… figure out our bodies and, well, have sex with us. So when my—”

“WHAT?!!!”

Ahsoka was now the one fuming with anger. She stopped dead in her tracks and looked like she was about to Force lift a Kapok tree out of the ground, roots and all.

“I barely got two sentences out, Ahsoka!”

“Sorry! I’m listening. I have a lot of questions, but I’m listening.”

“I told you it was a different experience. You okay?”

Ahsoka nodded, her brow markings furrowed. To Rex, her fury was adorable, practically humorous, but he worried how she would handle the rest of the story.

“Ok, so…they assigned sessions to us like a…a mandatory physical examination, which was very nerve-wracking for me because I had no idea. I found out about fifteen minutes before walking into my session that I was about to have sex.”

Ahsoka’s wide eyes and the look on her face were a mixture of shock, horror, and unfiltered confusion.

“By what right did all of this occur? Rex! Did they make you have sex with these women?!”

“No! No, it wasn’t like that at all! Hold on. Let me explain, okay?”

“Please explain, because you know very well, Rex, that I had many issues with how all of you were treated and trained, so if you’re telling me—”

He moved to face her and held her shoulders, letting his hands softly fall to her biceps.

“Ahsoka, you need to understand something. That sixth to the seventh cycle for first-generation clones was a horrible year in our training. I’m telling you, it almost upended the entire creation of the clone army. I’m serious.”

“Why that year? I don’t get it.”

“Three words: human - male - puberty. The Kaminoans had grossly underestimated what we clones would all be going through mentally and physically regarding our bodies changing. Even worse, they had also overestimated when we could begin our physical simulations, fight training, tactical and endurance courses. The Kaminoans assumed that with our bodies' hormonal changes, we could now physically apply all the learning and practice from childhood...you know, as little ones? That training was mildly physical, mostly only theory and virtual simulations."

“So, you’re saying that because human males go through this physical change, they also start changing mentally?”

“Well, yes. We had been conditioned as little ones to follow orders and excel at our goals and military education. By the fifth year, our minds worked at total capacity and focus, taking advantage of every intuitive capability.

But in the sixth year, once that physical change started to occur, none of us were prepared for what our hormones would be doing. And there were thousands of us stuck on Kamino. Not one clone had ever even seen a human female in real life. Trust me; it was chaos in there, Ahsoka.”

“This is not what I expected at all from this story.”

‘What? Did you think some girl rowed a boat up to Tipoca City and somehow caught my eye, then I broke her heart?”

“Are you going to make fun of me if I tell you I was really hoping for a story like that?”

Rex smiled and led them to start walking again.

“No. I’ll tease you to the ends of the galaxy about a lot, but not for wishing that…for me.”

He kissed her hand and then held it at their sides again as he continued,

“Where was I?”

“Chaos, I believe.”

“Yes… chaos. Fights were occurring every day, like physically violent fights. It was frightening in a way because we were being trained as weapons of war. And boys roughhouse when they are young, but this was sometimes vicious and angry. My own squad could not get through a single battle simulation without some disruption like a knockdown fight, goofing around, pranks, or just disrespectful behavior. Our trainers were at their wit's end.”

Ahsoka had never heard about any of this before. She eagerly listened as Rex continued.

“It was awful, and me? I was miserable. I was so dedicated and focused that I lost my little friends, close friends because I chose not to talk to anybody during that time. I did not want to get in trouble. I only wanted to do my best, meet my trainers’ goals, and prove myself as we were expected. Then, the day came. I was assigned a time, a room and told to wear my training armor and be prepared to perform physically.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. I had no idea what it was about because I had become such a loner, so I didn’t hear the rumors. It wasn’t until my good friend, do you…remember Captain Gregor?”

“I think so, oh the Commando? The one who was MIA, and R2 helped find him.”

“Yeah, that Captain Gregor, CC-5576. He’s doing better now, I think? Shit. Where was he last? I think he's a trainer now, himself. Well, anyway… we met that day in the waiting area, and he’s the one who told me what was about to happen in the room for my physical performance exam.”

“Wait, I'm not sure I understand. Did the Kaminoans or your trainers, whatever, did they make you have sex with these women, or not?”

“We didn’t actually have to have sex with these women. The women were very upfront about that. We could choose sex if we wanted it or not. But we did have to learn how to take care of things down there ourselves. You know what I mean by that now. We also had to learn how to behave around women should things get…charged up wherever we go in the galaxy. The women taught us how to respect women and be attentive even, which is a good thing I realize now.”

“I’ll save my response to that when you're done. I’d like to discuss that part further. Please continue.”

Rex chuckled at her sudden shift back into her “Commander Tano” voice.

“This all was a gen1 thing, by the way. The following generations received less…um… interactive sessions. The Kaminoans just added sexual education to the programming and as part of the conditioning. They used the data from the gen1 sessions—”

“The data?! What kind of data?!”

“That is where my knowledge ends. Honestly, I didn’t want to know. But the new conditioning worked, and the younger clone batches didn’t have to have sex with a stranger on a medic gurney.”

“Oh yikes, a gurney?

“Yeah, well. The stranger part was more alarming. The gurney was, whatever. It’s a bed.”

“Rex,”

“Hey, Ahsoka, stop for a second. Look over, out that way.”

Rex pointed her towards the clearing of the woods. Hovering in the distance was the white cloud-like planet that Splendor orbited. Its subtle light acted as a dim spotlight that broke through the floating islands in the upper atmosphere and hinted at the jungled canopy. It had been softly lighting their path from a distance, and neither of them noticed.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is. I think we’re close to those ruins by now. They are just down this ridge.”

“I want to sit, Rex. Let’s find a spot.”

“You’re not worried about making it to the temple by dawn?”

“Not really. I just want to sit and listen to you..”

He retook her hand. They followed the worn path that had led them up the mountainside when they traveled from the hangar to the lodge.

Ahsoka found a spot and felt the ground to ensure the grass was as soft and leveled as it looked. Rex unclipped his helmet and set it down on the ground. Then took out his DC-17s and placed them next to his helmet. Swooping his rucksack around, he dug into it,

“Your cloak or my sleep roll?”

“Sleep roll.”

“Done, I’ll set it up.”

The thin, narrow rectangular mat was hardly comfortable for sleeping, but it made for a decent place to sit. Ahsoka watched as Rex set up their strange nighttime picnic.

He sat down with his knees up, elbows resting on them, and let himself take in the beauty of the night sky and the view of the endless mountains covered with dense jungles and cloud forests. She came over to sit beside him and decided to face him in her seated position. Rex placed his helmet, blasters, and rucksack off to the side of the sleep roll.

“I was a jerk earlier. I’m sorry.”

“You already apologized, Rex. I accept and ask that you not feel bad about it again. You were doing what you could to protect yourself. Though I have to say, you don’t seem very upset telling this story? You seem fine with it so far.”

“Hmm…so far, yes. But I’m not done. Fuck! I’m getting nervous again.”

Ahsoka scooted closer to him.

“You’re doing great, Rex. I don’t remember where you left off. Maybe, you could have sex or choose not to?

“Right. Uh Well, we could ask the women questions, we could have sex, or just fool around. I only had the one session.”

“You could have more than one?”

“Yup, I think Lock, Gregor, uh…Keeli…and Howzer… had three or four sessions. Cody had the most, or maybe that was Wolffe? Somebody got in 7 sessions. I'm not sure who. Anyway, some brothers figured out they didn’t desire females, or they desired both sexes. Some liked certain species.”

“Oh, I see. And you?

“Females only for me.”

“And you learned that during this session with some woman."

Rex took a deep breath. The retelling of the story had reached the difficult part. Rex figured that he could get through it as long as he kept looking at Ahsoka.

“Ahsoka, when I stepped into that room, I was terrified. Looking back on it now, just the fact that I made it through those twenty minutes and didn't pass out was enough. I was so mortified that I wouldn’t….”

“Wouldn’t what?”

“That I wouldn't do well. That my performance wasn’t exemplary, satisfactory even.”

“Rex, that's ridiculous. How would anyone even know?”

“Everything clones did, we had to be exemplary. That was always expected of officers foremost, but even the foot soldiers. No one wanted to be working the maintenance jobs. I had the same attitude towards this that I had about everything with my training. I didn’t know any other way. I had to be perfect and well-liked. I already looked different, which is odd, for a clone. I used it to my advantage when I could. I was memorable, I guess.”

“You mean because of your hair? You really do have curly blonde hair, Rex?”

“Yes, and I hate it. It’s a mop when it grows out. That’s why I shave it. Thorn’s turned out nice? I can’t figure out why mine was different. Mine was always frizzy and in my face. It grew so fast back then.”

“You have to grow it out again!”

“No, I don’t. No way.”

Ahsoka started tracing his scalp with her fingernails,

“Oh, come on! I want to run my fingers through your curly hair!” her playful tone was dangerously seductive without intention.

Rex’s eyes closed, enjoying her gentle circular grazes on his scalp, which had him practically purring as the warm chills ran down his neck and shoulders.

“Hmmm…okay, I’ll think about it out. You’re making it really hard to tell this story.”

“Am I? Because this relaxes you?”

Rex was leaning into her light scratches now like he was some damn spoiled tooka cat.

“Here, you can lay in my lap, Rex. No one said you had to be uncomfortable to complete this task.”

Rex thought it over. He reached up and gently took Ahsoka’s wrist in his grip and moved her arm out of the way, kissing her pulse point on the inside of her wrist. Then settled his head in her lap and brought her hand back to trace his scalp. They sat like that in the sweet silence just long enough for Rex’s mind to truly relax.

“Ahsoka?”

“Yeah, Rex?”

“I’m glad I’m telling you this. I can see now why I need to get it out.”

“Good. Okay, I’m listening.”

Rex closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he exhaled, he saw the stars above, tilted his head back, and peeked at Ahsoka upside down in his view as she was looking down at him with a loving smile.

Then he looked back up into the peaceful calm that was outer space from the grounded distance.

“When I walked in the room, and the door swooshed behind me, there was a female Twi’Lek; she was quite older, bright blue and…well…let’s just say she was on the plumper side.”

“Oh my.”

Ahsoka had stopped her tracing of his scalp reacting to this information.

“Now is not the time to stop doing that, Ahsoka.” Rex joked (but he was also quite serious.) She was practically lulling him into complete submission.

“Right! Sorry, I just had the visual and…right. Sorry. Please continue.”

“Look, I’m not saying a woman that size isn’t, you know, attractive or whatever, but at that moment, being a young cadet, about the age you were when we met, I was beyond panicked. I just froze. Ahsoka, I could barely speak. She had this rough, nasally voice that was all business: ‘enter your number here,’ and ‘stand right over there,’ then ‘here’s the rules before we start,’ I honestly was going to pass out. I felt the blood in my head just drop to my feet. She barely had any clothes on too, and she just looked at me like some kind of mechanic that needed to fix a speeder, you know?”

“ THAT was who you slept—”

“Ahsoka, I’m not done...just wait. Also, scratchies, please.”

Ahsoka started laughing.

“I’m so sorry I’m laughing! I-I- oh no- I really am,” she tried to hold it in and burst out another roar of laughter, “Did…did you s-s-say ‘scratchies,’ Rex?!”

She leaned over his face and kissed his mouth upside down while laughing.

“I did. And I’ll repeat it if you stop tracing again.”

“You promise, Rex?”

“Laugh now, very funny, but you’re not going to be laughing in a few minutes.”

“Oh no, what did the big blue Twi’Lek do to you?”

“She left the room!”

“What?! Why?”

“Well, now I know why, but at the time, I had no idea. So I assumed I had just failed. I was devastated, a complete wreck. I had to brace myself on the gurney. But then I realized whoever was in there before had just…you know, maybe been with her or something on it. I was about to start crying; that’s how upset I was with myself. A clone soldier was crying instead of having sex. Even if they did keep me in the ranks, I would never hear the end of it. I almost wanted to be kicked out to maintenance duty to avoid that.”

“Oh no, Rex.”

Ahsoka had established some lovely pattern that she slowly traced over Rex’s scalp. She would let her fingers fall under the nape of his neck, then back up to the spot she loved to kiss just below his earlobes. And eventually would return to his scalp to start the pattern all over again.

Rex took a moment to enjoy Ahsoka’s healing touch. He felt layers of dead weight lift away with each small wave of relaxation flowing through him. He knew he was positively the luckiest clone in the galaxy right now.

“So then…another woman entered the room. This one was human, younger than the Twi’lek, or looked like it at least. She had long reddish-blond hair, thin all over. She wasn’t strikingly beautiful, like you—”

“Oh, stop.”

“When I tell you your beautiful, I mean it. This woman, she was alright. Her teeth were kind of crooked, but her smile was nice anyway. However, she was the most extraordinary thing I had ever seen at that time. She spoke softly and was very patient. She even brought a blanket with her and threw it over the gurney’s cot. She invited me over to sit next to her and just talk. It calmed me down, but the chrono was ticking, and I only had fifteen minutes left. She told me not to worry about that then asked me how training was going. I got all excited to talk about aerial defensive maneuvers; I knew how to talk about that stuff. I was utterly fumbling over my words, but she looked like she was listening, started playing with her hair, and adjusting the straps of her bra thing. Then she said,…you know…what you heard, from…what’s the bird’s name?"

“Morai. From Morai.”

Ahsoka continued soothing Rex with her hands now operating automatically; it was a meditative power that relaxed her as well. She was now feeling the emotions Rex had buried deep down to a hidden place as they began to emerge from the hardened layers that he had suppressed them under. She thought of the columns, the ruins, of The Temple of The Mother, buried deep within the ground.

You see ruins where truth lives. So much to learn.

Ahsoka recalled the words Morai had spoken to her. She also remembered that she had her own series of tasks ahead. Her years of training with the Order and learning from Skywalker and Kenobi made her realize a painful truth: Rex would not be there for her tasks.

Ahsoka swallowed the lump in her throat, leaned down to kiss him again, and focused all of her attention to listen to him for as long as the Jola star stayed hidden.

“Thank you? Look, Ahsoka, if you don’t want to hear any more details about what we did, tell me now.”

“I’m okay, Rex. Keep going.”

“She said the thing about me reminding her of some boy she liked; he looked like me, hair like me or whatever.”

Ahsoka remembered it exactly. The memory of a Jedi was a blessing and a curse,

“You’re one of those big-hearted troopers, aren’t you, 7567? You’ll be a hero one day. Maybe you can help me now? You remind me of this boy I knew. He had blonde curls and sweet eyes just like yours. He never did know how much I…loved him.

Rex looked up and tilted his head back to look at Ahsoka looking at him.

“She didn’t say that last part, Ahsoka.”

“I did, though—because…you never knew.”

Rex turned around and sat up, his armor was cumbersome in the shift, but he did his best to sit up and on rising on his knees, pulling her up to him,

“Neither did you, Ahsoka,” he whispered his response, leaning in to kiss her sweetly. The polite, restrained kiss masked the burning lust brewing between them right now.

“I want to make love to you right now. Now, Ahsoka.”

“What happened next, hmm?”

“I kissed her, and she kissed me back…with her tongue. Then I used mine to lick and play with hers. She brought my hand to feel her breasts,”

Ahsoka's actions began following along with the story, moving Rex’s hands to her breast, heaving with want as her battledress prevented his touch from taking her fully. She kissed his lips and offered her tongue freely to his lips, tracing the seam in his grin. Rex indulged her need by receiving her tongue in his mouth, allowing her kisses to please him wildly. Ahsoka’s hands were all over his armor, pulling at his shoulder and elbow plates. Then his kisses commanded her mouth to behave. He grabbed both her wrists with a gentle disarming grip; he slid his hand over hers while resuming his story,

“She started taking off pieces of my armor,”

Ahsoka removed his gauntlets and gloves. He slowly watched her fingers work quickly in the dim starlight that tinted everything in a deep dark blue and crisp shadows.

“Then..she told me to unhitch my codpiece..."

“Rex, unhitch your—”

“No.” Rex brought the bridge of his nose to hers, “You do it, love. Right there on the side,”

Ahsoka followed his directions and unlatched the left side,

“Now do the same on the other side,”

She repeated the action on the right side. The skidplate and front codpiece now detached; Rex took them from her hands and tossed them onto the nearby grass. Then Rex shamelessly adjusted himself with relief as Ahsoka’s hands immediately went after the waistband of his lower blacks. Rex jumped a little and smirked,

“She let me take off her underwear.”

“Not wearing any.”

“Aw shit, Ahsoka. Just the tights?"

“Yes, sir.”

Rex growled into her neck with hungry kisses that slowly moved over to passionately kiss her lekku as his hands quickly unbuckled her beskar kama. The sleek unpenetrable metal was defenseless against his swift movement. Rex removed the prized metal of Mandalore without issue, quickly throwing it on top of the pile of his plastoid armor pieces. Ahsoka was still whimpering out breaths at the incredibly arousing sensation of his unrestrained lips and tongue on her lekku tails.

“Rex! That feels…there…oh, I’m…nghhh, ”

Her breathing was unsteady; the pleasure of his lips and tongue tending to her lekku with fervor was dizzying her into a hovering bliss. Muttered words failed to ultimately form in her mouth as he continued,

“She let me touch her. She asked if she could touch me and kiss me down there,”

Rex then shoved his hand down under her skirt and into her tights. The aggressive act caused Ahsoka to yelp a praise of his name through clenched teeth at the sudden rough pleasure.

Ahsoka’s eyelids fluttered. Her eyes were practically rolling back from the combination of his kisses on her lekku, the stubble of his jaw grazing over the sensitive skin there, and his hands down her tights, feeling for those same spots he found earlier with his tongue.

“You're soaked down there, Tano.”

“I-uuh-I–know. Fuck, Rex! I want to see your….”

“Watch that mouth, Commander, if you want to kiss me down there.”

Ahsoka grunted through a pout at his tease; then she quickly moved to lick and nibble Rex’s earlobe, as she whispered in his ear, “I've wanted your cock in my mouth since I saw it this morning.

“Fuck, that was this morning?!”

Ahsoka let out a playful giggle as she quickly unhitched the clasp in the back of her dress, shimmying her arms out and freeing her breasts to the warm night air. Rex’s hands and lips found them quickly.

“It was. Let me see your cock again, Rex.” Ahsoka started palming the sizable bulge under Rex’s blacks.

Rex pulled his body back then dropped his arms at his sides, his hips rocking so subtly, inviting Ahsoka to have her way with him completely.

“She kissed me down there and put her mouth around it. She showed me how to stroke it. It felt incredible….”

Ahsoka looked up at Rex adoringly as she bit her bottom lip, her chin pressed against his cuirass while her hand was sliding down his blacks.

“Standing or sitting?”

“Huh?”

“Were you standing, Rex, or sitting?”

“Sitting.”

“Then stand up, Rex.”

Ahsoka watched as Rex quickly stood up, maintaining his dominating presence that she was ready to bring to heel when she took him in her mouth for the first time. She licked her lips as she looked up at him with coyish enthusiasm in her eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, Ahsoka. So good to me, my love. Fuck!”

She pulled down the waistband of his blacks, and his throbbing erection sprang loose as thick and wondrous as the first time she saw it.

“Tell me what to do, Rex.”

Rex fisted the tip and gently pressed it against her lips. Ahsoka kissed the delicate skin reverently. Rex then stroked his hand back down to the base as Ahsoka licked and curled her tongue around the tip to taste him. Her eyes studied every shadowed ridge and how the head leaked slightly, glistening in the starlight. It was big, and she wasn’t sure where to begin,

“Open that beautiful mouth yours, love. Take your time. Don’t worry. You can’t do anything wrong right now. Just watch the teeth, okay?”

He was in a full stance of domination over her, yet Rex was being so kind and gentle now. She grabbed at his thigh plates, holding on for what she was about to attempt.

“If you want to stop, you can at any time, okay?”

She nodded.

She opened her mouth wide with an appreciation of how good he always was to her. Once Ahsoka wrapped her lips entirely around the tip, Rex let out a beastly growling groan. Looking down at her, his face twisted up in awe and appreciation. Then he flung his head back when she bobbed her head forward to take in more of him as her tongue licked what it could reach around his thickness.

She figured she just needed to mimic to movements of when he was inside her and remembered him muttering about how tight she was at one point. So, she squeezed her lips around his shaft tighter and hummed as she heard the breath escape his lungs.

“Like that ‘Soka, keep doing that, love.”

Once she figured out to breathe through her nose, she found a rhythm and hummed at how excited she got pleasing Rex. She sensed the writhing of pleasure within him was building up to that crashing into ecstasy. His hand started to stroke harder as she moved back to licking and kissing the tip, which now seemed firmer, pulsing, and wet from her mouth.

“Damn, your mouth feels so good. Hah-uh-argh!”

Ahsoka licked again before letting his cock just sit on her tongue, watching Rex stroke himself. Then he tapped it playfully against her tongue, and she smiled at the teasing gesture.

He whined. Ahsoka swore she heard a high pitch whine come out of Rex. When she looked up, she saw his face was fixed on hers; his dark amber eyes narrowed with lust, lips open and curled. She once again took him in her mouth and tried to move her lips further down then she rolled her lips in to smooth her back and forth movements.

Before she knew what was happening, Rex had pulled himself out of her, moved back down on his knees, and was kissing her again. He then moved to her nipple, where his hands squeezed and flicked her nipple with his tongue, just before taking her whole breast into his mouth.

Ahsoka was still shocked he was back down before her so quickly. She reeled from the attention he was kissing into one breast while squeezing the other. She started twirling her lekku tails and stroking them. When Rex caught was she was doing, he kissed her mouth and nibbled on her bottom lip as he gave her a command,

“Get on top of me, Ahsoka.”

“Is-is that what she did?”

Rex let out a small chuckle as he laid back on his elbows,

“No, I just want to see you. You can do whatever you want to me. Come over here.”

Rex guided her to put her knees on either side of his waist. She leaned down to kiss him,

“I can do whatever I want, huh?”

Rex nodded, “Don’t hold back, but if it hurts too much, tell me. We’ll slow down.”

Ahsoka’s eyes went wide just before they closed as Rex watched her lower herself back down. He grabbed the base of his shaft, watching as Ahsoka lowered herself and mewl at the pleasing pressure of him filling her at her allowance. She slid down further, breathing herself through accepting his girth, then began moving her hips to grind on his hips. She planted her arms on his cuirass; her hands spread wide to brace herself.

He was spinning within seconds at the way his cock was being squeezed against her tight walls with each shift of her hips. He could feel the tip of his cock hitting against the deepest part of her that she could fit in.

Rex slid his hands over her hips then squeezed both cheeks of her bum to move with his hips, showing her a rhythm to try. Ahsoka followed then reached back with one arm for balance to brace herself for a shift in position.

When she did, they both erupted in groans of mutual astonishment at how good her leaning back like that felt for both of them. Ahsoka braced her arms back on his thigh plates, arching her back like a work of art. Rex's mouth hung open at the sight of her leks and breasts on display in the starlight. She was a vision of beauty to behold.

Ahsoka was moving her hips quickly and masterfully when Rex realized she was tightening around him; the warm pressure was incredible. Her mouth hung open with determination as she chased her orgasm, riding him.

When she started bouncing up and down, her rhythm faltering, Rex reached his hand so his thumb could play with her clit and return her to her hunt. She clenched her jaw and cooed at his ministrations, leading her over the edge. Her hands now off his thigh plates and playing with her lekku tails,

“Rex! I’m…ah…I’m….”

Rex was about to cum. He knew it. If she clenched any harder around his cock, he’d finish instantly. He quickly sat up to kiss her wherever he could, still pleasing her clit, and this finally sent her over the edge. Ahsoka loudly cried the intense snap of her climax right into his ear. She was grasping at his bare neck and pulled on his shoulder plates, finally pressing her trembling face into his neck.

The intoxication of licking her lekku, feeling her wetness clench like a vice around him, made Rex begin to thrust towards his own end. Using his quads to bounce her on his cock through her come down. When he finally came, the release and pleasure of it all was a tidal wave of heat, exhilaration, and whited-out euphoria. Filthy curses fell out of his usually very polite mouth, and he let it wash over him.

Ahsoka traced his scalp once again, gently kissing his lips and jaw.

His breath slowly returned as he opened his eyes to see the white diamonds of her markings blessing him with her beauty.

Ahsoka giggled at him, “You okay, Rex?”

“You kidding? I’m the happiest man in the galaxy right now,” he kissed her long and lovingly just before they slowly untangled their bodies.

Rex pulled up his blacks, and Ahsoka pulled up her tights. Both were beaming with smiles at each other.

“Let me help with your dress, Ahsoka.”

“If you want,” she turned around, and he closed the clasp and kissed her shoulder delicately.

“I love you.”

"I love you, Rex.”

They kissed again and pressed their cheeks to each other as he caressed her arms.

“I think I figured out your lekku tails are more than just ticklish.”

“Clearly, Rex. I loved it, though.”

“Yeah? Good, because I have no idea what I’m doing there, I just liked doing it.”

They both laughed with exhaustion at his admission.

“Well, did I do okay, Rex? With, down there, for you?”

“Uh…yes. Too good. Ahsoka, have you always been able to just excel at whatever you try?”

“No, trust me. Master Yoda had no problem pointing out how much I still needed to learn with my lightsaber skills. Anakin was even worse. My training was similar to yours with regards to expecting to be exemplary. But…obviously, no mandatory physical examinations at the Jedi Temple. ”

“Clearly. Hmm…can I lay back down in your lap?”

“Of course, come here.”

They resumed the position that had them so calm and contained earlier. Ahsoka was tracing his scalp, and Rex sat in the quiet moment.

“The sky is changing color Ahsoka.”

“Is it? Well, you finished the story. We can start heading soon.”

“No. I didn’t, though.”

“I was wondering, what am I missing that you felt so mortified about this, Rex? Was it because it was a stranger, or you were so young?”

“No, none of that. The shameful part was that I thought she was telling the truth. By the way, I lasted a whole two minutes and ten seconds once I did finally have sex with her.”

Ahsoka made a yikes face.

“Considering the times we’ve been together, that’s not good, right? Because you are certainly exemplary and take your time now, Rexter.”

Rex smiled lazily. He was being lulled to sleep by Ahsoka’s tracing of his scalp.

“I was in love with her. For about a week, I thought I had a girlfriend. I thought she took special care of me because I was just like the guy she knew or whatever….”

Rex yawned, “…and it was all a lie. None of it was real. I was an idiot. She had done the same routine with hundreds of other clones who were also too nervous. I had to find that out the hard way by hearing other guys tell each other about their experience with her. Blonde curly hair, black hair, brown hair, red hair, whatever.”

“Oh no. Wait, she was lying? There was no boy with curly— Well, that’s awful.”

“I was an idiot in love with a complete stranger who just happened to have slept with hundreds of my brothers. So in my mind, I failed that part of the examination…,”

Ahsoka held back wanting to interrupt, allowing Rex to get through all of it,

“…I fell in love and was too stupid to see it wasn’t real. So, it was a pretty big deal to me. I was ashamed. No one ever knew, and I never told anybody. It just turned me off from connecting with women like that, even for a good time or whatever.”

Ahsoka felt tears well up in her eyes.

“That’s so unfair, Rex. You felt ashamed because you wanted to believe in love.”

“Yeah, more scratchies, please.”

“Sorry again. There you go.”

“I’m falling asleep, Ahsoka,” Rex yawned again, "You’re so good to me.”

__________________________________________________

When Rex woke up and felt the warmth of the Jola star on his face, he looked around, and Ahsoka was gone. He had no idea where she was and sprung to his knees to look around.

“Whoa there, Captain. She’s already headed to the Temple. You did well, sir. Finished your task just in time.”

Rex rubbed his eyes. He rubbed them one more time to make sure he was actually awake. Because there was no way that he was looking at the armor standing before him in the middle of the mountainside meadow on Splendor.

But the two red dots and upside-down red arrow on that helmet, the double pauldrons, the kama, and stripes on his calf guards, that was the armor of a dead man.

A brother that Rex saw get shot with his own eyes,

“Fives? Is that…is that you?”

“The one and only, sir. Good morning. Now get your shit together and follow me.”

[barnibumblr]

No Secrets Among Sisters

Pairing: Ina x Lillian 

Summary: Following the incident in the bookstore, Ina confides in her sister about the nature of her relationship with Bea.  

Warnings: Just fluff! 

Word count: 2607 

Tagging: @ikingsley @kaitlynliaofanxx @kwaj115 @sheepmomther-personal @swimmingshoebakerydreamer

*** 

Ina knocks at the door, muttering to herself nervously “breathe Kingsley, just breathe”. Almost immediately a familiar voice rings out from inside, “coming!”.

The door swings open and Lillian stands on the step, smiling from ear to ear at the sight of her older sister. “Ina! Come in already, I was starting to forget what you looked like”, she teased. “Sorry Lil, I have been rather... Preoccupied”. She scolded herself internally as she stepped inside, ‘preoccupied?! Is that really all you could come up with?’.

The truth was that Ina had been avoiding her sister since the night at the Speakeasy and subsequently, finding out Bea was her student. The evasion wasn’t ignored. “So where’ve you been for the last three weeks? I thought you may have eloped for some illicit affair?” her sister joked, waving her hands dramatically as she headed for the kitchen. For a split second Ina froze, her mouth hanging wide open, she only hoped that Lillian’s choice of scenario was coincidental. ‘WITCHCRAFT’ she thought, ‘it’s the only plausible explanation’. Thankfully Ina had managed to compose herself when Lillian turned her attention back to her, “well?” she laughed.

Ina was no good at keeping secrets, the pair were close enough that Lillian would see straight through her and she was certainly no liar. There was a moment’s pause as Ina contemplated how to respond, she was almost consumed by the awkward silence when the youngest of the Kingsley women bound in to the room, “Auntie Inaaaaa”. Charlotte came running through, jumping straight in to Ina’s arms. “Oh how i’ve I missed these hugs” Ina exclaimed, whilst Charlotte all but squeezed the life out of her.

“Let’s get a good look at you” Ina said as she pulled back from Charlotte, turning her full circle and back to face her. Charlotte giggled as she went round, rolling her eyes as she lands back in front of her aunt. “Yes, you’ve definitely grown some” Ina concluded, eyes crinkling at the corners with the first heartfelt smile she had offered since arriving.

“Auntie Ina, will you come see my Lego? I’ve just finished building the Millennium Falcon!”. Charlotte was hopping on the spot in excitement, she really did take after her aunt when it came to her love of Star Wars. “I do really need to speak to Mummy a little first…” Ina started as she spared a glance at Lillian (who by now had stopped busying herself to listen), her attention was brought back to Charlotte when her shoulders visibly and quite dramatically deflated. “I have a mini Chewie?” Charlotte added, in a bid to sweeten the deal. Ina hummed, that’s when the young girl realised she needed to play her final card. ‘Is she giving me puppy dog eyes’ Ina thought to herself, internally appraising the mini genius, ‘oh god she is! Smooth move kid’. “You make an interesting offer little Kingsley” she finally answered.

Ina didn’t make a habit of saying no to her niece, she often felt the need to compensate for their lack of family, it really was just the three of them. That didn’t stop her milking it for what it was worth though, Ina convinced herself she was helping keep that super brain on it’s toes. “Do you think you could go get it ready and wait for me?” she finally caved, offering her pinky in promise. Charlotte smugly accepted before skipping back out the room.

Lillian moved to the table, “I’m guessing by your tone that I should probably sit down for this?” she asked. Ina couldn’t quite meet her sister’s eyes as she pulled out a chair “yes, that’s probably best”. Lillian shook her head, laughing silently “I knew something was off the moment you came in. You may have a PHD Ina Kingsley, but you are a terrible liar”. Ina finally looked up, “I am under no false illusion when it comes to my skills in lying” she replied, hands up in surrender. “However I really did think I had mastered the art of deflection!” She challenged, her expression mocking offence. “Not with me you haven’t” Lillian replied, pressing her lips firmly together as she slowly shakes her head.

“I’ve met someone” Ina finally admitted, turning serious.

“Ina! That’s great news, we should be celebrating? Why aren’t you happy?” Lillian questioned, eyebrows knitted tightly together. “Oh, make no mistake Lil, I am” Ina was quick to dispel that notion, sitting forward in her seat. Her eyes dropped back down, fixed on her hands, she twiddled her fingers nervously as she considered her next words.

Lillian focused on her older sister intently, giving her the space to continue. There were only two occasions she recalled seeing Ina this anxious, the first was when she came out to their parents, the second was when she helped Lillian tell them about the pregnancy. Neither conversation ended well.

The minute that passed had felt like forever and finally Ina continued, “I’m just not particularly sure you are going to approve of my decisions”. Lillian frowned at her accusingly, “I swear to god Ina, if you are sleeping with a married woman, I will disown you. You know how I feel about that. How you of all people should feel about that”. There it was, the conclusion Ina knew her sister would be jumping to, ‘two feet as always!’ she thought, huffing at the idea. “No Lil. I’m not, and will never be, the other woman” Ina spat, as if the words themselves were poisonous.”What then? Ina you couldn’t even play hooky at school, what could possibly be so bad?”.

Her wild imagination didn’t stop there, Ina would have almost found it comical if the situation wasn’t so dire. The older woman knew she should probably just come out with it, but it was so interesting to see where Lillian’s mind went. ‘Wow… I am a terrible person, this is not the time for subject analysis!’ Ina admonished herself, but it really was a force of habit.

“Is she serving time? Drugs? OH MY GOD… Please tell me it’s not a he?!” Lillian pushed, whispering the last part. That was it, Ina couldn’t stop the snort that escaped her. “Lillian stop!” Ina’s eyes were wide at the absurdities being thrown her way, although at this point she wondered if they were better than the truth. “For the record, absolutely not – on the males species I mean. Some things simply cannot be undone” she affirmed, a flicker of a smirk fading as quickly as it arrived.

Ina closed her eyes as if bracing herself “I need you to let me finish though. If I don’t tell you now I’m not certain I ever will” she pleaded, opening her eyes. She exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself and regain some resemblance of her usual composure. “She’s my…” Ina paused, summoning whatever courage she could from within. “She’s my student”.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Ina searched her sister’s eyes for a moment, eyes she knew well, eyes that mirrored her own. When Lillian eventually spoke, her voice was soft. “Oh Ina” she sighed.

The room was quiet, bar the ticking of the clock. Ina shifted uncomfortably in her seat, not really sure whether she should speak next or just leave whilst Lilian cradled her head in her hands. “Please say something” Ina breathed, “anything?”.

Lillian moved to prop her face on one hand before replying, “I don’t quite know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. This isn’t like you Ina?” she reflected, the disbelief evident on her features. “I know” Ina mumbled as she went back to toying with her thumbs. Another agonising pause left Ina rubbing her hand over her face, it was only then that Lillian noticed how tired she looked. In fact, this was a look normally reserved for a stressed Ina, the same Ina who wouldn’t have slept in three nights just to meet a deadline.

“Please don’t think for one minute, that I’m not already punishing myself for allowing it to get this far” Ina said as she met her sister’s gaze. “I know it’s inappropriate. Trust me when I say, I’ve tried to distance myself from her”.

“Clearly not enough!” Lillian immediately retorted. Ina winced. As much as it stung, she also knew it was true.

As difficult as she found the conversation, Lillian wasn’t about to let Ina off lightly. “Have you had sex with her?”. The question hung in the air.

“Yes” Ina simply replied, earning a groan from Lillian, who was now massaging her temples. “That was before discovering she was my student though” Ina quickly added, “not that it makes much difference at this point”. It was clear she had been berating herself enough, so Lillian eased off. “How?” Came her next question, much softer than before.

Ina leaned back her in her chair, relaxing only a little by the change of tone. “I was having a drink at that little speakeasy, when this young woman approached the bar. We only spoke briefly at first, whilst she was being served, but she was different. She had this air about her, she was just… Completely captivating!”. Lillian watched her sister smile fondly at the memory.

“Dare I say, I was devastated when she returned to her table. I was on my third old fashioned and feeling rather courageous, so I sent over a drink”. Lillian raised her eyebrows in surprise, it was’t like Ina to be so bold.

As much as Lillian tried to hide it, she was now fully invested in how the story would progress (she always was the soppier of the two). “Sooo? Did she come back?” she asked. Ina’s grin grew wide with triumph, “she did”.

“We must have spoken for a good couple of hours, it all felt so effortless. I knew I wanted to kiss her, but I wasn’t sure how I should go about it. I mean, I would consider myself a bit out of practice!” She chuckled, acknowledging her love life, or lack of. “Despite my earlier confidence, I just didn’t have the nerve. Thankfully that was something she wasn’t short of though, she seemed to pick her moment perfectly”. Ina started to rub the scar below her lip absentmindedly, as she recalled how they had shared their first kiss. The small gesture didn’t go unnoticed, nor did the light in her eyes as she went on. “One thing led to another and before I knew it, I was semi naked in one of the private lounges!” Ina finished in a rush. “I’ll spare you the details” she added, as a blush crept across her cheeks.

“So you really had no idea she was from Belvoire?” Lillian queried, her initial disapproval subsiding slightly. Ina shook her head, “I didn’t even know her name. I gave her my number but If I’m honest I wasn’t sure I would ever see her again. I was pleasantly surprised when she text me the next morning, and rewarded me with said name”. Lillian gave her sister an expectant look, “Bea” Ina breathed, answering the silent question.

Lillian could see the impact the young woman had already made on Ina, pushing her to almost feel sorry for her.

“Imagine my horror when I walked in to my first lecture the very next day, and Bea’s sitting three rows in”.

Ina explained that she had tried to stay away, but couldn’t ignore the connection they had. She joked how Bea might as well be living in her mind, rent free, only it wasn’t really a joke. Ina told Lillian how she had vowed to herself to keep things professional, however that was proving increasingly difficult.

Taking her older sister’s hands, Lillian prepared herself to approach the elephant in the room, the one they had both been dancing around for some time. “Ina, I’ve spent the last two years watching you bury your head in your career, helping you undo the damage she did”. Lillian paused as Ina interjected “you mean she who shall not be named?”. “Yes, Voldemort” Lillian replied, knowing Ina would appreciate her easing the conversation with some humour.

“You’ve barely been able to consider the possibility of love again, because of the pain she put you through. And the one time you do, it threatens to jeopardise the very thing that saved you”. Ina bit her lip as she gave Lillian’s words some real thought.

Lillian carried on “I know how much love you have to give and how desperately you want to give it. You have to ask yourself at what cost though Ina?” Before continuing, she stopped for a second to allow the message to sink in. “I want nothing more than for you to open your heart again, but you can’t be the only one making sacrifices. Especially not of this size, and not based on one night of passion”.

Although Lillian’s voice was one of warning, her eyes showed nothing but care. Ina pulled her hands away to wipe the tears that had to started to escape the corners of her eyes.

“I know you’re right Lillian. I have worked so hard for my career, I daren’t think about what I would do if I were to lose it”. Satisfied that she had highlighted the enormity of the risk (and that it had been understood), Lillian softened once again.

“You deserve the greatest love story of them all Ina. Do you really believe you are ready?”. Ina sighed softly as she thought about the prospect of some kind of ‘future’ with Bea. “I think she’s good for me Lil. In one breath she makes me nervous, but in the next she knows exactly what to say to put me at ease. She may be the cause of my turmoil but it’s like she is also the only resolution”.

“It’s wrong I know, but I can’t help wanting to explore this with her?” Ina said, running her hand through her hair.

“Okay enough of this” Lillian slammed her hands on the table, way harder than intended. “Here’s my advice Ina. You need to keeping working and keep it professional, as professional as possible. That doesn’t mean you can’t get to know her though. If this girl really is interested in you, she will put in the work, thus giving you the chance to work out how you really feel. Then and only then, can you decide where your moral compass wants to settle and if you are willing to put your job at stake”.

Ina nodded slowly, mulling it over, however Lillian wasn’t done. “In the meantime, why don’t you speak to Sam? She’s had her fair share of work place scandals after the whole Dalton/Russo saga, she might be able to offer you some sound advice”.

“That’s actually a really good idea” Ina replied, “she won’t judge me either”.

“Exactly, it’s always worth getting a second opinion from someone who isn’t blinded by sex appeal” Lilian teased as she got up and made her way round the table. “Wait a minute, isn’t that exactly what happened…” Ina was cut off by Lillian pulling her to her feet and giving her a tight embrace. “It’s going to be okay Ina. Thank you for being open with me”.

Breaking the hug and holding Ina at arms length, Lillian laughed at her sisters pout. “Now pull yourself together, get upstairs and see my daughter. I can’t deal with two mopey Kingsleys”, she added with a wink.

“Thank you Lil” Ina said earnestly as she straightened herself up, “I don’t know what I would do without you”.

***

[moribundanchor]

The Pelle/Dani Receipts, Post 11: The May Queen

The last lap of the film is the culmination of two separate tracks: one, Dani breaking with Christian, coming to terms with her grief, and sloughing off her old life, and two, Dani being embraced by her new family and, with that final, slightly-mad smile, finding joy with them. Much as in the “Do you feel held by him?” scene, Ari masterfully keeps the final scenes of Midsommar walking that tightrope between validating the Pelle/Dani romance and minimizing it in order to center Dani’s broader character arc and story, and to that end, he doesn’t even wobble. Still, he can’t get out of this without some explicit (though not explicit) mushy stuff for the OTP, and that, of course, is why we’re here.

We already mentioned the dance competition in the context of Pelle and Team Hårga winnowing Christian real good so he can be Maja’s baby daddy, but this is yet another opportunity for Pelle to demonstrate to Dani the contrast between him and Christian. As Dani begins to dance, Pelle is right up front, attentively, patiently, smilingly watching. She has every bit of his attention and support. Meanwhile, Christian stumbles into the audience late, burdened and internally roiling after his meeting with Siv. 

Now, we don’t know how Christian ultimately answered the Matriarch when she asked if he would mate with Maja. Ari, the imp, cuts away. Not to taint our favorite scene with comparison, but very like Dani’s protests in “Do you feel held by him?” Christian’s evasions, more pronounced in the Director’s Cut (“I’m here with somebody,” “We haven’t even talked.”) are frail, toothless things against the truth joined with temptation. He doesn’t love Dani. And he does want Maja. By the time he comes to watch the dance competition, Dani dancing is the furthest thing from Christian’s mind, even though betraying her is the crux of his dilemma.

And do please remember that Siv proposes this ritual snuggling to Christian as something Dani will not know about, so he really is contemplating betraying her, as opposed to what Pelle suggests to Dani. 

This is the contrast that waits for Dani during a break in the dance. Pelle smiles at her flirtatiously, even proudly, and silently applauds--totally here for you, Dani--while Christian is literally looking the other direction, back towards where Maja--oops, I got myself eliminated, teehee!--has taken her seat. During the dance, Dani is, yes, tripping balls and speaking gibberish, but she is still having the best time ever. So, initially exhilarated, Dani wilts the moment she sees Christian, and if we were going to argue that Dani doesn’t reciprocate Pelle’s feelings, the visible heartbreak on her face here would be Exhibit A. Except people are more complicated than that. Relationships are more complicated than that. Dani is definitely more complicated than that. Letting go still can hurt long after you know it’s over.

All that being said, even the most complicated relationship stuff can get simple real quick with a grand, unambiguously romantic gesture, and as Dani is crowned May Queen, finally, finally, finally, we get one. No evasions, no apophasis. Stunned, still kind of high, Dani’s new family washes her away in a tide of congratulations. Odd welcomes her home again, in Swedish this time, and it’s just a lovebomb lovefest all the way down. The only ones who don’t hug and/or paw at Dani are hallucinations (or are they) of her parents in Hårgan garb, her mom laying one surrendering caress on Dani’s shoulder as she passes by, and, of course, Christian, poor dope, standing by the maypole, looking every bit as alone and lost as Dani probably has felt up to this point. The Fire Temple is a ways off, but he will never again be allowed close to her. They are over.

At the end of the procession, for maximum dramatic effect, Dani’s happy Hårgan sisters tilt her toward OHAI PELLE. As Pelle bends down to her, initially he appears to be in supportive friend mode, (“My God, Dani! May Queen!”), but then he just sweeps Dani up in a kiss that isn’t long enough to stop the ceremony, but just long enough to be undeniably romantic. In the script, the kiss is actually described as a “blunt, passionate kiss.” While so much of the Pelle/Dani ship is not scripted, here it is plain: Pelle, now wearing the Wunjo rune, is Dani’s wish for an understanding, loving partner come true, and for the minute she can be spared from the procession, he is kissing her for all he’s worth. Let’s just watch this on a loop for a while.

This is the moment that has launched several thousand “Did Pelle like Dani?” Google searches, and it looks like a freaking wedding because it kind of is. Look at all the Hårgans bursting with happiness, not just for Dani, but for them. We are all Hårgans because all Hårgans are clearly Pelle/Dani shippers. (Okay, there’s something going on with Inga, but that’s a different analysis post.) Dagny in particular looks like she’s going to cry. My sweet brother birthmate found him a newblood and they are the cutest. Both Pelle and Dani are in full Hårgan dress for this kiss, as though their relationship always had to be consummated with Dani fully planted in the fifth panel of the spoiler tapestry. Also note that the pink flower in Dani’s crown reflects her heartbeat. Notice how it speeds right on up while she’s in Pelle’s arms. At this point, Dani might yet equivocate--not that she’s very equivocal in the moment--but crown flowers don’t lie.

Christian probably doesn’t see this moment. In addition to succumbing to “the tea with special properties,” he’s watching from the maypole, and Dani and Pelle would have been obscured from that vantage by a few dozen white-clad bodies. But if he cared enough about Dani to celebrate her triumph instead of blankly witness it, if he had been able to refuse the tea...but then, if he cared that much, we wouldn’t have had a movie.

Once Pelle surrenders Dani, the happiest and proudest of all possible soft cult boys, she’s urged toward a litter in the shape of the sun and lifted high off the ground. The Hårgans serenade their queen in a procession to the dinner table, Pelle prominent among them, his hands arranged in a cradling gesture previously seen when the Hårgans burned Dan’s body. This is an assumption, but it seems a fair one, that the gesture conveys Pelle bearing Dani’s spirit, even if he’s not one of those physically carrying her litter. In the wide shot, you will notice they are sailing Dani right past an image of Terri hidden in the trees. In this scene, Dani is very literally leaving her birth family and Christian behind. When Dani takes her throne at the head of the mirrored banquet table, Pelle will placidly sketch the moment, and as previously mentioned, we’ll see him reflected in the table surface, indicating how he’s still plotting even in that idyllic moment which would seem to be the culmination of all his hopes and dreams. After all, Christian’s still breathing.

Sadly, this concludes the dramatized Dani/Pelle content. We know. We’re sad, too. In the major scenes around the kiss itself--the serenade, the photograph, the dinner after her crowning--Pelle is near Dani, but not next to Dani. No more close communicating reaction shots. We can see Pelle enthusiastically toast Dani at the dinner table, and she seems to trade a sly, flirty smile with him immediately afterward, but that’s it. We can’t even see Pelle’s reaction when Dani gags on the pickled herring. In the final ceremony, Pelle’s crowned, too, just as the movie has been promising all along, but he and Dani don’t share the stage or even a single shot. Blocking and camerawork, so suggestive of their love story up to the point Pelle lays a good ‘un on her, suddenly becomes a blue-nosed chaperone. But consider what the film would be like, what it would have to become, otherwise. Midsommar isn’t primarily a romance anymore than it’s primarily a horror movie. Nope, it’s not a horror movie either, not really. It’s Dani’s story; it just happens to have smooches and blood eagles in it. So the kiss is a great moment, but it’s going to have to last you. (Hey, would you like to see our fanfics?) 

Green Man/May King or not, it would appear there’s more post-canon wooing for Mr. Pelle to do (though Ari has confirmed more than once that Pelle has an excellent chance with Dani, wink.) The script specifies that Pelle is one of the Hårgans that bears Dani’s throne to scoop her up after she stumbles in her May Queen raiment before the film’s final shot, but like so much Dani/Pelle content in the script, that doesn’t actually end up on film. The last we see of Pelle, he’s on his knees scream/crying as the Fire Temple burns, and the last we see of Dani...well, the last we see of Dani is the final, iconic shot of the film. Insane? Eh, maybe. She’s synced up with her new family and having her unholy affekts burned away. Probably should check back later for that one. Happy? Definitely. Ever after? Sure looks like. And why not? Girl got her wish.

Oh, but there’s one more topic we have not quite explored. The writing on the wall. And the ceilings and the tapestries and the clothes and the footwear and the decorative flourishes and the furniture and the tables and plinths and the...

For more, click on The Pelle/Dani Receipts Masterpost

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Our Dearest Moments ||Alec Volturi x Reader||

Warnings: None, this is nice and fluffy

Words: 2964

Summary: A request for @royalvolturisblog    Forever is a long time to live, an occasionally a little reflection upon who we are and how we got here is needed to maintain our sanity, and decided some very important answers to equally as important questions.

Sometimes, life is not all we expect it to be. Sometimes, life is cruel. Sometimes, life is disappointing. For me? I can safely say it’s none of these things. My life had always been easy, the best of everything and wanting for nothing. As doting as he was, my father had spoilt me rotten and never let me work hard for anything, never given me life skills that most normal people would need to live a functioning, adult existence. Why would I need them? Money was not a problem for my family nor would it ever be, so why go to the hassle of building a life where a nine to five job sapped the life from me when I could, quite sustainably, simply enjoy my life to its fullest at my loving father’s expense? Why make your child work if there was no need? I would not settle for a subpar life as nothing in my life had ever been less than luxurious.

That was my life in a nutshell. It was flat screen TVs in a ginormous bedroom which would have fit some people’s houses inside it, four poster beds and every new games console, every makeup palette fresh off the manufacturers line and vacations to the most remote and lavish corners of the Earth. I never even had to ask for some of it, my father simply expected I would want things and provided them without request – as those of guilt soul are wont to do.

“Well? What do you say?” Alec asked, his lips pressing the gentlest of kisses against my shoulder. I hummed, leaning back against him.

“Forgive me, I was hardly listening to a word you said, my mind is…elsewhere.” I admitted. Alec squeezed my hips, arms widening around my waist to tighten his hold on me.

“You’re ignoring me now? How very rude. I thought we were passed this.” He chided, though his tone was more playful than scolding.

“Call it introspection.” I sighed. Alec chuckled.

“Introspection? Now that sounds dangerous. I happen to like you as you are, if you haven’t noticed.” He teased, pressing a kiss to my temple. I turned in his arms with a smile. He stood a little taller than I did but I didn’t mind; it always gave me the best angle of the soft curve of his jawline, the fullness of his lips that didn’t like to stray from my own for too long. It also gave me the perfect excuse to nestle my head against his collarbone, escape those all seeing crimson eyes of his. Alec had seen right through me from the very start.

“I happen to know, you inform me every day…you sap.” I smiled a little as he lifted a hand to play with my hair.

“Then why decide to be introspective? What is there to reflect on? What would you wish to change?” he questioned.

“I already have changed,” I pointed out, lifting my hand to play with his coven crest, “I actually work for a living now.” Alec actually laughed at that, pulling back to feign shock.

“You? Spoilt? I would never have guessed.” he teased. He wasn’t wrong. Even now my room was lavish, silks and fine fabrics and luxuries filling every corner, but at least this time I had worked for it. Being a part of the Volturi was a privilege in itself but it required hard work, it required proving your worth and working for the greater good of your species. It was rather odd, how I had turned my entire life philosophy around in the span of a few centuries. Maybe it was Alec, making me humbler and wiser. Perhaps I owed some of it to Vladimir and Stefan, who had taught me to fight for what I wanted rather than throw money at it. I could still remember that fateful day, though faces and names were murky now in my ‘old age’.

Samuel and Scott were two boys I had craved the presence of a lot in my human days, though I couldn’t honestly tell you why anymore. Perhaps it was the familiarity of money, or the comfort that came from knowing someone of your status and experience walked alongside you and understood your world view, but they were the closest friends I had for a long time. What was better than going on vacation with your friends at the closing of exam season? Rome had been beautiful, the sights enamouring and the food…I suppose it was okay – my tastebuds had changed since then. I could still vividly recall the kind of heat I wasn’t accustomed to back home, and the dazzling brightness of the sunlight that spotted my vision and made my ever blurry human memories seem even worse quality somehow. I also remembered laughter, and warmth, the kind of warmth that flooded your soul and felt like a good hug on the worst of days. It was strange, the things that stayed with you.

Then there was too much warmth. The process to immortalise one’s body came at the cost of burning the eternal soul till only a shell was left behind, petrified and cold. That was how Stefan put it at least in his usual, grim way. The memories of my time with them had most certainly been the most vivid, since I was very much a vampire by then and I could remember every little glance, every change in the tone of their voice. Those days….those days were full of anger. My doting father taken from me, my best friends none the wiser as to where I had gone and yet never once pleading on the news for my safe return as most others did for their loved ones. Through time and trial and error, Vladimir and Stefan had shown me that I had actually lost nothing in this life, only gained. I was stronger, swifter, better than any human version of myself could ever be.

Then came the gift.

It had been purely accidental at first. Another boy taken in by Stefan only to be turned (in what I would later find out was an attempt at raising a small army) was similarly gifted. He had the quite remarkable ability to make anything he touched smaller or larger, depending on what he wished it to look like, and unintentionally I had taken his gift to use for myself. He hadn’t stayed much longer after that, Vladimir and Stefan reluctant to let him part but allowing it – only because they knew the Volturi would send the Guard after an unruly newborn causing havoc. Why should they need him when they had me? They had been the ones to train my gift, an enhanced trait from my human life they had said – as I had taken what I wanted then I could do so now with startling efficiency. By the time Alec had arrived I had not truly gotten it under control, hence my confrontation with Jane.

It turns out the unruly newborn had been smarter than we thought, and the Masters’ had dispensed the Guard to see about this gifted vampire the Romanian’s had collected. At this point it had been months since we’d even seen the boy, years since Vladimir and Stefan had stolen me from Rome’s streets on one of their daring missions taking them close to Volturi territory. My gift had made me indispensable to them, though I like to believe that on some level they cared for me as a person, given all the gifts and birthday celebrations they had indulged in for me. There had been trips and movie nights all at my request, and affectionate gestures such as hugs and chaste kisses to my forehead that had lulled me into the false sense of security that I was where I ought to be.

“Your mind keeps wondering. I happen to be trying to ask you a very important question.” Alec was sounding a tad frustrated with me now and my eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry, really, I just…do you ever have one of those days where you feel like you can’t escape thinking about the past? Thinking about the things that led you to this moment?” I sighed. It was perhaps a tad dramatic, perhaps even silly of me to be this distracted by such errant thoughts, but they wouldn’t leave me be. Alec stared at me for a long moment, and then he tucked a lock of stray hair behind my ear and swept me off of my feet to seat us on the sofa before our fireplace. Draped across his lap as I was, he had made me his sole focus and gave me his undivided attention now.

“I can’t say I do, so explain it to me. What are you thinking of in particular?” he questioned. My head tilted slightly, the briefest of smiles tugging at my lips.

“Demetri fixing up his nose the day we met.” I giggled. Alec snorted, eyes rolling.

“Vladimir did hit him rather hard.” He agreed. The commotion hadn’t much bothered me, my head buried too deep in my book to really be bothered by such trivial things, but then he had screamed. It was a blood-curdling kind of scream, the sort you heard in slasher movies when the victim is disposed of. It was the first time I had seen Jane’s gift in action, and the only time since I had stolen it. I had only meant to shove the menacing little blonde away from the man I had grown to see as a second father, only to accidentally set her own gift on her. She had crumpled like a straw doll, screaming all the while, and anyone else who came at me went down the same way.

Felix, Demetri and Jane just writhed on the stone floor while I tried and failed to keep Alec at bay, the mate bond I had unknowingly just set with him the moment we locked eyes preventing me from hurting him and vice versa. His mist had danced at the edges of my feet as he gave me more warnings than I was sure was customary of a Guard with his reputation until I managed to calm the raging inferno in my own mind, and douse the flames in theirs.

“Then you misted me.” I recalled, scowling at him slightly. Alec looked amused.

“You were getting rather violent,” he pointed out, “I’d merely suggested an even trade, their lives for you accompanying us to Volterra, and poor Demetri lost his nose a second time that day.” I could still recall the crunch of his skin beneath my knuckles as I vowed to never let them take me anywhere, and now two centuries on I couldn’t bear the thought of being anywhere other than in Alec’s lap. His hand skimmed my arm as I dropped my head on his shoulder.

“You think he would forgive me for that by now.” I said. Alec chuckled and kissed my forehead.

“Not in a million years, his ego is more fragile than his nose.” He murmured against my skin. I hadn’t been happy for a very long time after that. Dragged away from my home against my will and told it was all for a mate bond I hadn’t been ready to accept. I was cruel, very cruel, and I called Alec all sorts of filthy names. Neither him nor Jane had ever really done me wrong, yet still I rarely addressed them as anything other than ‘witch’ or ‘terrors 1 and 2’. I spent the majority of my days avoiding as many people as I could really, though I found Marcus to be quite calming and consequently ended up with the Masters’ more often than not. It was with their encouragement I ended up confronting my two-arch nemesis, their gentle prodding that had led me into Alec’s arms in the end.

“God I’m sure your mother would weep if she could see you now!”

“She did! She wept and pleaded with the villagers tying us to the stake until they caved her head in with stones. How about yours?”

I cringed slightly, the memory as fresh as if it had been just yesterday. Jane had looked ready to roast me that day, while Alec had cut me down to size with his words. Their mother’s fate, their deaths, they were nothing such of tragic incidents that should never have occurred, not to these two. It had triggered a memory I had thought had faded as most other human memories had, though I could see no eyes in the soft, familiar features of my mother’s face given I couldn’t remember the colour of them. She had been reaching for me in my dreams for years, that single bloodied hand protruding from the wreckage of a car only I had escaped from haunted me to this day. How far I had strayed from the woman she would have wanted me to become.

“How could you forgive me?” I asked finally. Alec raised his eyebrows.

“For punching Demetri in the face? Quite easily. I found it entertaining.” He answered.

“Not for that! For…everything else. I was nothing short of difficult and downright cruel to you.” I reminded him. Alec tilted his head, quietly making a noise of understanding. It wasn’t so long ago Alec had asked me to marry him, at least, five years didn’t seem all that long for a vampire. He shifted till I was facing him, straddling his lap and chest to chest with our noses almost touching.

“I forgave you because I loved you, even then. I didn’t see cruelty, I saw hurt that never truly healed. Our scarred hearts were made for one another, even if you weren’t ready to accept it.” He murmured.

“But all those awful names I called you…” I sighed, closing my eyes as shame ate away at my insides. Alec chuckled.

“Some were quite inventive, I’ll give you that,” he said wryly, “Y/N…you replaced every bad memory with a good one. The time you gifted me that bookmark because you knew how much I loved to read? The memory of our first walk in the Garden’s together where you taught me all about gardening and when the best time of year to plant certain flowers was. Our first kiss, the first time you held my hand even. You made the effort to make it right.” He kissed my nose sweetly before capturing my lips with his. His every kiss had been intoxicating since our very first one, the sweet taste of his mouth on mine addictive, the way his lips moved a hypnotic dance I could forever get lost in performing with him over and over. When we parted I pressed my forehead to his.

“I do love you, you know.” I swore. Alec flashed me a smile.

“I know, you impossible little brat,” he teased, tugging my hair lightly, “Now will you please listen to what I’ve been so desperately trying to ask you all day now?” My eyes rolled, but I nodded.

“Make it worth my while, baby.” I teased.

“Don’t, you know I hate when you call me that,” he warned, though his lips twitched upwards, “Y/N, my impossibly stubborn, talented little beauty. I’ve never been in doubt you love me, and I hope I’ve never given you reason to doubt that I love you just as much. You challenge and enrage me daily, yet you are also my greatest comfort and strength when I need you to be. So stop being so bloody awkward and marry me already!”

“That wasn’t a question.” I pointed out, eyebrows raising. Alec groaned exasperatedly, his head falling back against the back of the sofa. My head tilted slightly.

If my day of reflection had done anything, it was show me how far I had come. I was no longer the same spoiled little girl I had once been. I had become a protector of our kind, and my journey with Alec had humbled my tongue. I was perhaps wiser, far kinder. I had not felt worthy of the mantle before but seeing him beneath me now, my love so ardent in his affection and persistent in his showing of it, I realised I had no need to be afraid – I had proven my worth to Alec tenfold. Gripping his chin, I forced him to look at me. He looked rather frustrated.

“This is the modern era Alec,” I scolded, “I will never say yes to your proposal.”

“But-“

“Because you are going to be saying yes to mine. Marry me, Alec.” I didn’t ask, more stated it. I knew he wouldn’t say no. With another exasperated groan he shook his head.

“You do make me work for it don’t you? So long as I slip a ring on your finger I really don’t care who asks who. Fine, I’ll marry you.” He leaned in but I pressed a single finger to his lips, preventing him from kissing me. His eyebrows arched into his hairline, almost as if to say ‘what now?’.

“It’ll be a Winter wedding.” I decided. A brief smile flashed his lips upwards.

“Spring.” He retorted.

“And the bridesmaids will wear emerald green.” I continued.

“Peach.” He countered, his smile growing as I pulled my finger from his lips.

“Oh and I want diamonds Alec, they’re a girls best friend.” I grinned, our noses brushing now.

“You’ll get a cereal box ring and be happy with it for all the waiting you’ve made me do.” He huffed. I didn’t get to protest, not when he smothered my mouth with his own, both of us laughing as we let the past be and looked forward to our future instead.