#.anythings possible if you are [insert any word in here] enough

[cursedthing]

.oh yeah forgot to post these here

[softlymellow]

The Order Forgot Me First - Chapter 12

☆⁠ PAIRING : Anakin Skywalker x Reader

☆⁠ word count: 4.4k

☆⁠ story themes: lovers to enemies to eventually lovers

☆⁠ warnings: spoilers to swtcw, angstttt and a bit of fluff !!!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

"I don't need you to fix anything."

It had been two days since you and Anakin spoke. 

You were bored out of your mind. The medics constantly insisted that you stayed to ensure you were ‘healthy’. They also suggested that you should make yourself useful and regularly move your body to speed up the process. 

And that was exactly what you were doing.

You got up from your bed and took a stroll around the room. Your body still felt a little sore but it was nothing you hadn’t experienced before. You were so ready to leave and get back out there. 

Lifting your arms over your head, you yawned, feeling your back stretch. You then sighed in relief as they fell down. 

And then the door hissed open. 

Two medics stepped inside, one of them holding a datapad, looking stern yet bored, the other looked quite eager to see you. Though neither of them looked surprised that you were awake. 

“Morning, Commander!” The eager one said, a smile on his face. “You look quite well.”

You plopped onto the bed, your hands panting down your hair, trying to get rid of all the flyaways whilst avoiding the bandages. “Yeah well, I kind of want to get out of here as fast as possible.” 

“Today might be that day,” the other spoke in a gruff voice. 

“Finally,” you huffed out playfully. 

“We do have to do some check ups before you leave.”

You nodded, ready for them to approach you. 

Both medics walked around you gently, scanning your vitals and cross checking your charts with their datapad.

One of them began to unwrap the bandage on your head, wincing as it was still sore. 

“Bruising has gone down.”

“Her reflexes have improved.” 

“Her upper torso is set to heal at a steady rate.”

One of the medics held your left arm, wiping it down with an alcohol swab. And without warning, they pulled out a syringe from the pack wrapped around their waist. With no hesitation or concern, they injected it inside you. 

“Ouch!” You flinched, wanting to pull away but just as fast as it was inserted, it had already left. 

“You could have warned me.” You grumbled. 

“You’ll live,” the kinder one said as he watched the other throw away the injection in a nearby trash can. 

You didn’t smile. 

“On a brighter note, Master Kenobi will be on his way to escort you out.” 

“Oh. So, I’m cleared then?” Your eyebrows lifted, happily. 

He nodded, tapping a few things into his datapad. “Yeah-” He sighed. “-I don’t see any reason why you would stay any longer.”

As if on cue, the doors hissed open to reveal Obi-wan in his Jedi robes, a pleased look on his face. 

“Y/n. You’re looking a lot better.” He had a smile growing on his face. One of his arms was propped up on his hips and the other was holding a brown leather bag.

“Everyone keeps saying that,” you tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “Did I look that bad before?” 

Obi-wan huffed out a laugh, “You should be more grateful, you know.” Obi-wan nodded his head to the medics who stood by you. “You are lucky to even be alive.” 

You awkwardly smiled.

“I trust she is well enough to leave?” Obi-wan directed his attention to the pair. 

“She’s all yours,” the rather mean looking one said. As if you were such a nuisance to him. 

“Just try not to do anything too physically straining for now. Your body still needs rest.” The other spoke in a much softer tone. 

You shot him a small smile, “thank you.” 

Both medics nodded and finished up their business quietly before leaving you and Kenobi together. 

You exhaled slowly, “So much for helping the ‘Republic’.” You scoffed at your own self. “I can’t even do a mission with just a blaster without almost dying.” 

Obi-wan raised an eyebrow at this, “You are much stronger than you think, Y/n.” 

“It’s nothing like with Dev.” You shook your head dismissively. “We weren’t in a war,” your palms flattened out your medical robes, trying to get rid of the creases. “We just did stupid bounties every day.”

“So two ex-Jedi did nothing Jedi related?” Obi-wan joked. 

Rolling your eyes, “I used to argue with him a lot about the fact that he had no idea what it was like fighting in the Clone wars.”

“I feel like him,” you snorted. “I can’t even remember how to fight.” 

“Whether you like it or not, you were the one to recognise his force signature during the battle.” Obi-wan countered, hating the way you spoke down on yourself. 

“That was just luck.”

“That was the Force guiding you.” Obi-wan said. “Something only a force sensitive individual can feel. Someone like a Jedi.”

You stayed quiet, nibbling on your lip anxiously. 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you realised you hadn’t even asked about Master Bulq. “Master Bulq? What happened to him?” You queried. 

Obi-wan ran his right hand running through his auburn hair. “He is detained for now.” Sighing, he continued. “Master Sora Bulq was a…complicated case.” 

“He has been seduced by the dark side.” He revealed. “Connections to Count Dooku and us. It only explains how he found us there.” 

You stayed silent, taking it all in. 

“Its scary isn’t it?” You said, deep in thought. 

Obi-wan raised an eyebrow, confused by what you meant. Noticing this, you continued. 

“People turning to the dark side. People we once trusted.” 

“It is indeed.” Obi-wan agreed, humming. 

“I just can’t help but wonder who’s next.” You mumbled, looking down at your hands. 

Obi-wan remained quiet. He didn’t like wondering about the what if’s, he was always present. Present in the moment. 

“Come on,” he said, walking towards you. “Can you walk on your own?” He offered you his free arm to get up. 

“I’m fine, Obi.” You waved your hands in front of you, a small smile creeping up your face. “You’ve helped me enough.”

Obi-wan cleared his throat, his shoulders stiffened and his lips pursed. His expression shifted. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked curiously, your eyes squinting. 

“Have you spoken to Anakin by any chance?” 

You were taken back by his question. 

Anakin? 

“Anakin?” You said out loud. 

“He has been…quite moody.” Obi-wan grumbled. “Not that it is too out of character.” 

Not really sure what to say, your mouth fell open for a second too long. “He…he did come visit me like two days ago…” 

“Visit?” Obi-wan’s eyebrow rose, as if it had been a shock. 

“Yeah, I woke up beside him.”

Obi-wan hummed, his hand stroking his beard as he thought quietly. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, watching him curiously. 

“There are great many things weighing on him,” he said carefully, “things outside of this war. He’s stopped sleeping again.” 

Your throat tightened and you felt guilt settling in your stomach. 

“I didn’t mean to make things worse…”

Obi-wan tilted his head, studying you. “You may not have. But-” his voice softened, “-he cares about you. Perhaps more than a Jedi should. Attachment like that…” He trailed off.

“It can cloud everything. Judgement. Duty. Purpose.”

You blinked. “You sound like Master Windu.”

Obi-wan’s mouth quirked, “I hope not.” 

Then Obi-wan’s back straightened and he had more of a pleased look as he really looked at you. “Better yet, I have brought you a change of clothes.” He handed the long forgotten satchel towards you. 

You took it from his hands and felt your clothes weighing it down. “You went through my closet?” You snorted. 

“Something like that.” 

“I should report you for that,” you joked, placing it on the bed. 

Obi-wan held himself back from rolling his eyes, you and Anakin will always be the death of him. 

“We’ll talk more later.” You nodded in response. 

“And, Y/n.” He added quietly, like he was a friend and not a general. “Don’t wait too long to decide what you want. Before this war decides for you.”

He then gave you a tightlipped smile before leaving the room. The doors hissed shut and his words were left hanging in the air. 

For some reason, the knot in your stomach felt heavier than your wounds. 

--- --- --- --- --- --- ---

You collapsed onto your bed and let the silence stretch. 

The Coruscant skyline had begun to dim. Casting your room in orange and red hues. Traffic patterns blinked across the sky, all heading somewhere. 

Home, perhaps. 

You were exhausted. Not that you had done much today. Other than leaving the med bay, your day was spent in the meditation room. Trying so hard to shake off what Obi-wan had said to you. 

About Anakin’s attachment. 

About your role in this war. 

You were so utterly and completely lost. 

Out of habit, you reached for your datapad, half tucked underneath your pillow. 

Boot-up.

Ping.

Log in: Y/n L/n

-

-

-

Accepted. 

You flipped through daily entries. Reports you had missed. Missions that had gone and sent out while you were unconscious and stuck in that godforsaken room. 

As you tapped on the tab for your personally assigned missions, there were two waiting in the hotbar for you to accept. 

Senate Dinner Assignment – Commander L/n

Diplomatic presence required. Attire: Formal. Status: Pending Confirmation.

Assigned Sector Escort: Monian Vale.

A Senate dinner? An escort? 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you realised it would be for tomorrow. It made sense. They would not assign you heavy combat duties this early. 

You hummed and tapped ‘Accept’. It might be fun? Who knows.

And then your eyes drifted down. 

A single line item. Flagged for yourself. 

Deep-space scouting operation – Commander L/n

Outer Rim Survey Route. Arkanis Sector.  Pending confirmation. 

Priority Tag: Class Delta

Now this one was a heavy combat duty. This was more important than a silly Senate dinner. 

Your thumb hovered over it for a second. It wasn’t immediate. It will be by the end of this week. But it was yours. 

You hadn’t been briefed on it but you were assigned to it. 

You sat there for a moment, your eyes rereading it over and over again. Your name was stamped on it. And it felt good. 

This was something you were useful at. It was more than just a mission. It showed that they cared about you even after being injured. That they didn’t think you were dead weight. 

Without another moment, you tapped the ‘Accept’ command and locked in your name. 

--- --- --- --- --- --- ---

You lied there restlessly. Your body itching to move and all you wanted it to do was sleep. You couldn’t though. It was like it wanted to make up for all of the days lost from training and fighting. 

You groaned, sitting up. Your palms running down your face in annoyance. You couldn’t shake off your meeting with Anakin, his apology to you. It made you want to rip out your hair. 

Getting up from the bed, you slipped into your robes and rolled your neck, wanting to relieve the tension. You needed water and you needed air.

And that’s what you did. 

You made your way quietly through the halls and then outside towards the training grounds where there was a water dispensary. No one would be there at this hour. 

The dispensary was hidden behind some pillars, a little further than the actual grounds but close enough where padawans would gleefully jog to quench their thirst. 

You pressed on the silver button and water began to shoot out from the drinking taps. You brought your mouth close to the bubbler and felt water rush down your throat, the cool sensation almost making you sigh in relief. 

After a couple seconds, you let go of the button, just as fast, the water stopped. Stepping back a couple steps, you wiped away any remaining droplets around your mouth with the front of your sleeve. 

You let yourself relish in the fresh air, cool winds blowing your hair ever so lightly. It was soothing. Ever so quiet. You watched the plants swaying side to side in a gentle manner. 

Closing your eyes, you let yourself be in the moment. 

Panting. The whirr of a saber. 

It was the smallest sound. So small you would have completely missed it had you not closed your eyes and focused. 

Your eyebrows furrowed as the sounds continued. You made small steps towards it. It came from the training ground. Each step you took, it grew louder. The unmistakable sharp and heavy breathing. 

Rounding the corner, you leaned against the cool stone pillar, curiosity taking you in. Quietly, you peeked your head and watched.  

Anakin was there, utterly alone at the center of the floor. He was sparring with the Republic issued training sabers, the same ones padawans would use to train at a lower risk. His movements were precise, angry. 

His hair stuck to his forehead and sweat dripped down his chiselled jaw, his chest rising and lowering with heavy breaths. 

Your heartbeat quickened as you placed one hand against the stone to anchor yourself. You were frozen in place, watching the saber move effortlessly. 

“You just gonna stand there?” His voice cuts the silence, low and tired. Anakin doesn’t look your way, instead he draws his saber down by his side, spinning it. 

Your jaw clenched as you slowly stepped into view, your arms wrapped around you defensively. 

“I was just leaving.”

Anakin then moves to meet your gaze, something inside of you throbbed under his intense eyes searching your own for something you weren’t sure you could give him anymore. “You don’t have to.”

You hesitate. “It’s late,” you murmured. 

“Then why are you here?” Anakin challenged you gently, his voice quiet. You hated this feeling. This push and pull. It wasn’t intentional. It was like the Force wanted you to see him. Like it was drawing you to him. Like whatever happened now was necessary and had meaning. 

You glance away, pulling your arms closer to you and exhaling softly. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Anakin’s eyes softened as he watched your withdrawn behaviour. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked, his voice etched with concern. 

You nodded your head and shrugged, “alright.”

“You want to spar?” 

You held back a scoff. If this was his way of trying to fix things between you two, it was stupid. There was a look in his eyes, like careful hope. 

Your shoulders slumped, “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” your voice distant. 

“I won’t push,” he softly says, stepping closer to you. “Just thought it might help.”

“Help who?” You tried to restrain your bitterness. “Me or you?”

He hesitates, allowing your words to sting him. “Maybe both.” 

Anakin moved and retried behind him, pulling out another training saber from a rack. He began to walk towards you and then held it out, the hilt facing you like a peace offering. 

You stare at it, and then up at the hopeful look on Anakin’s face, and then back down. Your fingers hesitated before finally —reluctantly— you took it. 

Your grip on the saber was stiff. You hadn’t played with a saber in far too long. Yet it all felt familiar. You stepped into the middle of the training grounds, your heart hammering. Anakin circled around you carefully, watching you in caution. You fell into your stance automatically, your muscles easing into routine. 

Anakin then charged at you, his saber clashing yours with measured strikes. Your movements were guarded, uncertain even. But you grew increasingly irritated as you began to step back, Anakin’s strikes strong. Your breath mingles with him as each of you let out an exhale. 

“You’re not bad for not training your saber skills in a while.” He teased. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, offended that he would say something like that and joke like everything was okay. 

“Who says I haven’t?”

Switching positions, you began to offensively aim to hit him. There was something deeper than just fighting with Anakin. It felt like something more. Like an unspoken apology hidden that was hidden in the footwork. Like he allowed you to hit him simply because he regretted the pain he had caused you. Every block felt like a what-if. 

But then, your saber flickered. 

You freeze as it short-circuited, sparks crackling from the hilt mid-swing. You felt sudden jolts of pain course through your fingers, the burn sent you reeling in your hand back slightly. 

“Shit-” You cursed, the saber dropping through your hand on instinct. 

Anakin’s reaction was instinct, closing the distance between you two at an almost instant. His hands reached out for yours, his palm hovering under your hand and the other floating above your wrist, waiting. 

“Let me see,” he says, low. You don’t move away or give your hand to him. You just watched and winced in pain. 

He gently takes your forearm, his thumb brushing over the edge of your sleeve and his eyes scanning your hands, looking for danger. His touch against you felt like fire and it wasn’t something you were used to. 

You pried your hand back, “I’m fine,” you murmured. 

“It’s still damaged. Let me—”

“No.” You snapped sharply, your voice full of hurt. “I don’t need you to fix anything.” 

He stills. His eyes searching yours. Hurt flashes across his guarded expression. “Let me help you.”

“I shouldn’t have even sparred with you.” The words came out much harsher than intended.  You looked down at the saber, wanting to avoid his gaze.

Anakin followed your eyes and knelt down to pick up the lightsaber. As he was coming back up, his wrist comm buzzed sharply, breaking the silence. 

You both glance towards his wrist automatically. You felt your stomach do flips as you read the name clearly flash in the dim light. 

Incoming Call: Padme Amidala. Secure line. 

Your heart dropped and you noticed the way Anakin hesitated. A movement of guilt and uncertainty. He glances up at you, apology in his eyes before accepting the call.

“Padme?”

Her voice slips in through the comms, gentle and warm. “Anakin, sorry to call you so late. Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” he answered quietly, his eyes flickering to you for a second. “It’s fine.”

You audibly scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief as you rubbed your injured hand. You felt cold now. Stepping back slowly as Padme continued. 

“I have just gotten word about a Senate dinner tomorrow night,” she says, her voice formal yet tender. “The Chancellor has requested additional security. I thought you may have heard already but Y/n and yourself will be there. It says I would be appointed a Jedi guardian. I suppose it’s you?”

He nods slowly, watching the way your figure began to every so slowly and slightly retreat back. “I haven’t heard yet.”

Anakin was assigned as well? 

“Well, I suppose you’re stuck with me again.” Her laugh crackled through the comms. 

His voice is quieter this time, “Wouldn’t call it that.”

Anakin’s gaze met yours, heavily apologetic, absolutely hating and dreading the fact that he was having this call with you in the same space. You couldn’t hold it anymore, bitterness boiling in your chest. 

“You should finish that,” you said softly, your voice completely neutral. “I can manage.” 

Anakin shook his head, stepped forward, lowering his comms for a moment while Padme was still on the other line. “Wait—” he begins softly, the buzzed out saber still in his other hand. 

“Stay. Let’s just—”

“Goodnight, Anakin.” You swallowed the ache in your throat. You turned away without waiting for another word from him. Not getting the chance to see the hurt that clouded his eyes. You made a beeline straight to your room, your robes flowing as you speedily walked down the dark hall. 

Anakin sighed, his back of his palm wiping away the sweat on his forehead. The only thing left was the broken saber and Padme’s voice drifting from his comms. 

“...I’ll send over the itinerary. It shouldn’t be too long —just a few hours of political theatre. You’ll survive.”

Anakin doesn’t reply right away, he just stares at the spot where you stood.

“...Yeah,” he finally says. “I always do.”

--- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Your nervously adjusted your gloves, your fingers almost shaking from the coolness of the night. You stepped towards a window of an empty room. Looking at your reflection, you patted down your hair.

You brought your fingers up to your lips as you fixed up the makeup you had on. It wasn't much, but it definitely was more that you would put on daily.

You inhaled deeply as you stepped back from the window, your attention shifting to the entrance where Senators gracefully walked in.

There was no turning back now. You walked in the building.

The corridor of the reception hall was everything you had expected it to be. It had golden archways and detailing all over. It was flawless. 

You breathed in the subtle floral scent from Meiloorun blossom diffusers. There was a live Bith jazz trio that played soft notes in the corner. Droids were moving all around serving senators with hover trays containing appetizers. 

Twi’lek senators had beaded veils. Ambassadors floated around. Chancellor Palpatine was seated at the center, draped in a crimson robe and sipping on something from a smooth chalice. 

You needed to find Monian Vale. Feeling small in the hall, you walked alongside the outskirts, trying not to bump into the senators chatting —trying to get votes—  and the very few other Jedi guardians. 

A few of them glanced at you with a knowing look. You had passed two senators whispering. 

“Isn’t she the Jedi who went rogue?” One asked. 

“I thought she was dead.” The other replied back.

Trying your best to ignore them, your eyes kept scanning the room and your fingers kept fidgeting on their own, feeling self conscious. This was not an environment you were used to. 

You locked onto a woman in deep blue regal Naboo silk. It was Padme. Her hair was styled up with golden chains threaded through and her earrings bared her Royal Crest. She looked beautiful. 

You felt underdressed. Your hair was braided down and you wore a sleek black body suit but a corset-style armoured vest that had subtle gold veining. Your highwaisted pants were tucked into your boots and you had your blaster clipped at the side. 

Looking over besides Padme, was Anakin. He had black formal Jedi robes and gloves to match. It fit him perfectly. Everything about him was sleek and sharp and it fit his frame exceptionally well.

“Y/n.” 

You whipped your head around, the voice calm and familiar. 

It was Bail Organa. He was dressed in a navy cloak and tunic. His expression was warm.

“I’d heard you were back. Wasn’t sure I believed it.”

You offered him a polite smile and a nod. “I wasn’t sure either,” you joked.

“You’re still carrying yourself like a Jedi.” He smiled faintly. 

“Only when it helps.” 

His expression shifted to a more curious one, “And tonight? Does it help?” 

“We’ll see,” you gave him a hint of a smirk. 

Bail laughed and stepped closer. Clearing his throat before speaking in a lower voice, “they sent you alone?”

You scanned the room and your eyes once again settled on Anakin and Padme. “Apparently I’m not the only exception.” You nodded your head subtly towards their direction. 

Bail followed your gaze and hummed. “She must’ve requested him personally. It’s not uncommon. Especially not with her.” His voice was neutral. 

You let that settle in your stomach as your eyes lingered for half a breath longer. “Have you seen Monian Vale?” You turned back to look at Bail. 

Bail huffed once. “He’s been circling around Senators since he has arrived.” 

“I’m assigned to him for the evening.” 

“Then Force help you,” Bail said, smiling. 

As if on cue, a voice came from behind you. Loud enough to draw attention. 

“Ah, Commander L/n.” They said, measured. 

You turned to see Senator Monian Vale striding towards you, a drink in hand, a smile tucked perfectly behind political precision. He was dressed in brown with subtle crimson detailing. 

He looked every bit the Republic that he pretended not to be. 

“Senator Organa,” he greeted with a nod. “Stealing my shadow already?” 

Bail politely chuckled, “She’s here by order of the Senate and Council. Not to represent your ego.” 

“Is there a difference?” He grinned. 

Monian turned to look at you fully, his gaze moving down your outfit and body in ways that you almost felt violated. 

“I have to say,” he added, his voice low. “The Temple never did you justice. I have only seen you in your standard Jedi robes. This look…suits you.” 

You raised an eyebrow, unsure of whether to feel offended or flattered. 

“Is that your diplomatic opening line?”

“Only when it works.” He smiled again. 

You didn’t return the smile. 

Bail stepped in, sensing your discomfort. “Commander L/n is here to keep you and others safe. Not entertained.” 

Monian shrugged, taking a sip from his wine which looked like Toniray. A glowing teal drink from Alderaan. “Security comes in many forms. I find wit to be an effective shield.”

“And if anything happens, let’s hope your words can deflect blaster fire.” You said flatly.

Monian hummed, swirling the drink in his hand. “I see the war didn’t dull you.”

“The war has done more things than just that.” 

His brow rose in amused approval. “I do love when Jedi develop personality.” 

You wanted to correct him and say you weren’t a Jedi but you could not be bothered. It seems every Senator in this building indulged themselves in gossip and rumours. 

Bail gave you a subtle look, as if he was asking you if you were okay. Glancing at him, you reverted your attention fully to Senator Vale. 

“I assume we will be doing the usual parade around senators tonight?” You asked, disregarding what he had just said. 

“Of course,” he lifted his glass slightly. “Wouldn’t want anyone to forget which side they’re on.”

Your mouth fell open to reply but you were interrupted by two approaching figures. 

“Commander,” Padme’s voice came about as she approached you. “It is quite nice to see you on duty tonight.” 

Your eyes flickered towards Anakin, his attention already focused on you. Ignoring the pang in your heart, you quickly looked back at Padme. 

“Surprise assignment.” You nodded.

“Seems the Chancellor's office is full of surprises lately,” she said with a soft smile. “We had only been informed about this event a few days ago. Perhaps to reel in last minute voters.” 

You forced a polite smile, both your hands clasped behind your back. Monian sipped his drink, his eyes moving between you and Anakin like he felt something was coming. 

Like tonight would be a long night. 

A/n: SORRY FOR SUCHHHH A LATE CHAPTERRR!!!! i hope u guys like it i lowk need some of yall thoughts ok so when it comes rots and order 66 and stuff i know how i wanna play it out but until then i might follow the clone wars episodes leading up to it with drama ofc like how does that sound? cuz thats like the only way i could think of how to lead it to order 66 eventually

lowk had writers block and then i have exams in a week so was quite stuck </3 and one more thing do u guys like me doing longer chapters like this one but it might be a bit late or shorter more frequent chps?

LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK ! <3

Omg random side note and rant I have had this itchhh to write a one shot of like padawan obiwan x reader and he’s like sad about his relationship with qui gon UGHHHH

Taglist: @endairachristensen26 @hayden-christensen-verse @ducks118 @seventeen-x @movingalongthekiwi @ssnapsaurus @caramelfondu @dayrin085 @devilslittlehelper @f1wh0recom @green-lxght @bettysgardenswift @heyitsbeeeb @user-3113s-blog @fandomhoe101 @veronaspencil @zudooms @hiphopdancer101universe @starfire21 @devotedlypaleluminary @miksxz @lacherrysouldy @lotushzl @biddycums @wandasblacknails @moonixlity @icanmeltanigloo @isntthatsweetiguessso @kiyotofish @balsalmic-vinegar

if u want to be added or removed lmk!

[wintrwinchestr]

strangers | part 3

summary: when nothing comes of the frantic call for help you'd made just before joel had attempted to take your life, you realize that he had been telling you the truth—nobody cares about you, and nobody is coming for you. the fear of being forgotten becomes so overwhelming, you decide to go against your better judgement in a last-ditch effort to make sure that somebody knows you're still here. what you hadn't anticipated, is that you'd be putting more than just your own life in danger by doing so.

!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!

I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.

warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, talk of death/murder and blood, mommy issues, lying/gaslighting, manipulation, introduction of female original character, reader's skintone shows bruises, reader has at least shoulder-length hair, reader's hair texture can be put into ponytails, reader has pubic hair, groping, fingering, kissing, fingersucking (both reader and joel), mild blood kink, domination and control that is essentially abuse, development of stockholm syndrome, pet names (baby, darlin', babydoll, sweetheart), story inspired by "preacher's daughter" by ethel cain, vaguely set in the 70s, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags

word count: 12.9k

a/n: heyyy... how y'all doin... it's been a while. i am very excited to share the next part of this story, written by some miraculous feat of perseverance. if you're still here, thank you for sticking around. i love joel and babydoll so so much and they have never left my heart or my mind, even when i was taking a break from them. i thought that putting a hard stop to my hobbies while i was having a difficult time at work was a good coping mechanism, but i realized last month that i can't let them take my creativity away from me no matter how hard they try. thank you @chippedowlmug and @polaroidpascal for always yapping with me and keeping their story alive even when i didn't have it in me to write it all down. there is much more of them still to come, thank you for being here <3

divider by @saradika

series masterlist/moodboard

read this chapter on ao3

part 4

You can’t sleep.

Each time the air conditioning kicks on, or the pipes let out a rattling groan, or the mattress springs creak underneath Joel’s weight, your eyes snap open again. Each time you hope to awaken to the sight of blue and red lights streaming in through the crooked blinds, and each time you’re disappointed. Your heart rate hasn’t been able to settle into any kind of steady rhythm all night, the muscle beating erratically every time you hear so much as a cricket chirp or a gust of wind outside. You could’ve sworn at one point you had heard distant footsteps crunching through the gravel parking lot, and you’d held your breath as you imagined they belonged to a police officer coming to your rescue, sent by the woman who had picked up your call for help. Any minute now the footsteps would reach your room, and you’d hear fists pounding on the door as they demanded entry. 

That minute had turned into five, then ten, and then fifteen, before the sound had repeated itself, and you’d realized it was just some nocturnal critter rustling around in the trash can outside the door. 

It’s been hours now since you’d made your futile little escape attempt, since you’d uttered all of about four words to the woman on the other end of the line before Joel had pounced on you like an animal, ripped the phone out of your hand, and dragged you back into his lair. 

…Someone had picked up, hadn’t they? Your memory is failing you now. Maybe the line was dead, maybe you hadn’t inserted enough coins for the call to go through, maybe you had only wanted there to be somebody out there who cared, and you had just hallucinated the woman’s tinny voice in your terrified state.

What you can be sure you hadn’t hallucinated, however, is the contents of the box you wish you had never pulled out from underneath the bench seat. You can’t escape the graphic memories of the polaroids that project themselves onto the backs of your eyelids each time they dare to close, jolting you back into reality the second your consciousness begins to slip away. You can’t help but think about how Joel had made you lay perfectly still for him while he forced himself inside of you, and you taste bile in the back of your throat as you wonder if he had ever really violated any of the other girls that way, or if it was just some sick fantasy.

You’re almost certain of what the answer is, but you try to swallow it down along with the sourness in your mouth.

You think about how scared you were, how scared you are, and how scared they must have been in their final moments, knowing there was nothing they could do anymore except submit themselves to his violence and hope he would at least make it quick. Eighteen or so years’ worth of dreams and desires and ambitions dashed in a single night, snuffed out in an instant as he reduced their bodies to nothing more than something limp and pliant for him to play with. You think about Ruby, and try to blink away the sudden vision of sunken glassy eyes and blonde ringlets covered in dirt and blood, skin pale and body decaying in a forgotten patch of land off the side of the road somewhere. You hope if he had ever spared even one of them from his grotesque defilement, that it was her.

You’re crying, you realize, when you feel a hot tear pooling in the shell of your ear, and you try to suppress your shuddering sobs as the guilt begins to feel all-consuming. How come you’re still alive to feel Joel’s hot breath raise the hairs on the back of your neck, and yet there’s a fucking shoebox full of dozens and dozens of girls who’d been brutalized and violated and discarded like trash? What makes you so fucking special? Being lost and naive and stupid enough to play into his little game without knowing what the cost would be if you’d tried to back out, to say that you’d changed your mind because he was too rough and controlling and it wasn’t fun anymore, like the rest of them probably had? It isn’t fair that you get to escape their fates just because you were the only one fucked up enough to enjoy the game, at least while it had lasted.

You’re going to wake him up with all your sniffling and shivering if you don’t get yourself under control somehow. You need to breathe. You need to get some air. Feel the breeze on your face and look up at the stars and calm yourself down enough to try and get at least a couple hours of sleep tonight. Lord knows you’ll probably need them tomorrow. 

Although Joel had fallen asleep with his arm locked tight around your chest, it rests across his own now, rising and falling slowly with his breathing. He seems to be in true, deep sleep, having laid perfectly still for the past couple of hours save for the bear-like snorts he lets out every once in a while. Must have really worn himself out last night, you think to yourself, the tone of the voice in your head dripping with venom.

You wait another couple of minutes for the AC unit to turn back on, and use its obnoxious metallic rattling to cover the sound of you peeling back the thin sheet and musty comforter. You do so carefully, in as slow and as delicate movements you can manage in your current state, practically placing your feet on the carpet one toe at a time before pushing yourself up to a standing position. Joel makes some kind of grumbling cough just as you finish straightening out your spine, and it startles a gasp from you. You cover your mouth quickly and turn back to face him with wide eyes, afraid that you’ll find his own darkened ones staring back at you. 

They’re still closed, to your immense relief, but his mouth is hanging open now, his sharp canines catching the moonlight in a way that sends a shiver down your back. You still have another minute or so of cover from the air conditioning before the room is cloaked in sinister silence once again, so you use your last remaining seconds to sweep the floor with your bare feet, blindly feeling around in the dark for your shoes. Come on, where the fuck are they? you wonder, sure that you would’ve kicked them over by now, if they were still in the spot Joel had put them after he had stripped off your clothes and pulled you into the shower with him. 

Fuck.

He locked them in the fucking truck, along with the rest of your clothes, along with all of his clothes and both of your bags full of your modest belongings. You’d been tucked into bed already, sniffling quietly into the pillow as he’d made one last trip outside in nothing but his briefs just to ensure that you wouldn’t be motivated to try something again during the night. You’d hardly be able to make it anywhere without a stitch of clothing on your back except for his threadbare t-shirt, after all, the length of it just barely enough to cover the tufts of curls that poke out from the apex of your thighs. 

“Just a lil’ insurance policy. You understand, sweetheart,” Joel had whispered, slipping the key to the truck underneath his pillow before slithering into bed behind you, wrapping his arms around you and constricting you like a snake. 

Fuck it. It’s been too long. You tiptoe across the few feet of space between your side of the bed and the door to the room, thankful that the AC rattles out one last dissonant groan loud enough to cover the squeak of the hinges and the click of the lock. 

Free from the confines of that cage-like room at last, you shakily exhale the breath you’d been holding, and the desert air is cold enough for you to see the pale cloud of it against the onyx-colored sky. With your back pressed up against the door and your hands splayed out against the wood, you look up at the endless expanse of stars above the treeline and let out a shuddering sob, the sight both comforting and overwhelming all at once. 

You feel small. You feel lost. You feel trapped. Scared. Sick. Confused. Everything. Nothing.

There’s a whole world out there, right in front of you, all around you, and it was waiting to welcome you with open arms, if you hadn’t fallen into the wrong ones first. You feel both grateful and damned to be alive, relieved that you’ve been fortunate enough to live to see another day, but knowing that each one that follows will be spent with him. In his captivity, doing his bidding, spending the rest of your life trying to decide which side of his polaroid camera is the worse one to be on. 

The polaroids. You just can’t fucking get them out of your head. The only physical evidence of what happened to any of those girls, now sitting at the bottom of a gas station trash can, likely covered up with empty soda cans and fast food wrappers and grease-stained napkins by now. That black plastic bag was probably tossed into a dumpster sometime last night, ready to be loaded onto a trash truck and taken to a landfill, never to be seen again. Discarded. Forgotten.

If anything, you wish you could at least provide some kind of closure to their parents, to Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter, who only gave up the search for their daughter because they had let the police convince them that their bright, beautiful, and promising child had just decided to run away that summer. You wish you could somehow make it back across the country, walk up to their home and knock on the door and be able to tell them “I know what happened to her. A man took her—a monster. He killed her. I’m sorry.”

But then, what condolence would that provide them, without a body to lay to rest? You wouldn’t even know where to begin to look for her. Joel probably doesn’t even fucking remember where she is anymore, where any of them are. He probably just picks the most unassuming, low-trafficked area he can find nearby to dump their bodies after he’s done with them, chosen as carelessly as he would the next cigarette out of his pack—a thatch of tall grass off the side of a back road, a pile of dry-rotted debris where a barn once stood, an algae-covered pond behind a long-abandoned farmhouse. Bleak, filthy, forgettable places, where nobody would ever be able to find them.

Another sob wracks your body, and you muffle the sound with your hand as you slide down the door, your knees giving out from underneath you as you collapse onto the sidewalk. 

Nobody knows where you are, or what happened to you, and nobody fucking cares. Not the police, not your own mother. You’ll be forgotten just like the rest of them if you haven’t been already, whether you make it out of this alive or not. 

You can’t bear the thought. You thought you could, when you had first left home and started following Ruby’s trail all that time ago. It had seemed inspiring at the time, the idea of leaving that suffocating little town in search of somewhere else to plant your roots and let yourself bloom. But now… you have to make sure that someone knows the truth. Whether they care about you enough to come to your rescue or not, you need at least one person out there to know that you didn’t just vanish into the wind. That you’re still alive. That you’re still out there. That you haven’t given up yet.

You close your eyes for a moment, taking a few steadying breaths as the cool night breeze dries your tears and the thin veil of sweat that your anxious spiral had produced. When you open them again, your gaze lands on the payphone across the parking lot, and you heave a despondent sigh as you study a moth fluttering dizzily around the bulb that illuminates the little booth. The phone is even more useless to you now than it was the first time, without access to the handful of quarters that are still locked inside Joel’s truck. With that option eliminated, you push yourself up to your feet, and feel the tiny muscles in your toes spasm with the desire to run. You try to rewind your memory several hours back, searching for even a glimpse of something that might tell you where the fuck you are, which direction to head in—had you passed any street signs, local schools, city halls, anything? You must’ve been too terrified to pay any attention to your surroundings as Joel drove from the gas station to the motel, devoting all of your focus to planning your failed getaway. Joel was probably counting on that, and had intentionally picked this drab little motel in the middle of fucking nowhere in order to imprison you here.

You finally tear your eyes away from that hopeless, trapped little moth, instead turning your head toward the motel office all the way down at the end of the row of rooms. There’s a dim light on inside, but no other sign of a person working there. Considering the isolated nature of this bygone stretch of highway, the motel might not even get enough business to justify paying a person to man the front desk all night. You chew on your lip, debating if it’s even worth a shot just to take a look around and see if you can find anything of use in there.

Your feet are stepping one in front of the other before you can stop them, leading you toward the door with “OFFICE” painted on the glass window in bold red letters. Goosebumps rise on the exposed skin of your legs as you walk, and you almost hope that there isn’t anybody in there after all, just to spare yourself the embarrassment of having to talk to some innocent bystander while you grasp desperately at the bottom hem of your shirt and your remaining shreds of dignity. You hate how well Joel’s little “insurance policy” is working exactly the way he wanted it to.

The doorknob is cold against your fingertips, and your breath hitches in surprise when you’re able to turn it with no resistance. You slip inside the office and close the door behind you quietly, taking a beat to survey the wood-paneled room—there’s a corkboard of room keys with only one empty hook, a clock on the wall that makes you jump with each startling tick, and a coffee maker in the corner covered in a thin layer of dust, illuminated by the slices of white moonlight coming in through the blinds. It’s all too still, too untouched, everything about the room only emphasizing how absolutely alone you are here. And yet, you can’t shake the eerie feeling of a presence, of eyes on you, watching you and waiting to jump out from the shadows and drag you back to your keeper. 

Just find what you came in here to look for and get the fuck out, you scold yourself, stepping behind the front desk and opening each drawer one by one as you search for the handful of items on your mental checklist—a pen, paper, an envelope, and a stamp. 

It’s not your brightest idea, attempting to send a letter back home to your mother. But it’s better than doing nothing, just disappearing into the forest and letting the monster that lurks there kick dirt over your trail of breadcrumbs. Even if just one remains, it will be enough to prove that you were ever there at all.

The pen and paper were easiest to find, sitting right on top of the desk in plain sight. You’d torn off a sheet of the motel’s personalized notepad, the place’s name and address printed neatly across the top. If your mother does find it in her heart to come looking for you, at least she’ll know where to start.

The envelope and stamp are proving more difficult to locate, and each deafening tick of the clock above your head taunts you with its reminder of how much time you’ve been in here, out of bed, away from Joel. Your searching becomes a little more frantic, less gentle moving of objects out of the way and more haphazardly swiping them around the drawers in your fruitless scavenging. 

“Um… hi there—” comes a voice from behind you, nearly startling a scream from your throat as you whirl around. You hit your hip on the open drawer and wince, and the owner of the voice puts her hands out in front of her, as if she had just spooked a small dog. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you…” She flits her eyes up and down your minimally clad form as she apologizes, and you self consciously yank your shirt down over your thighs. “Are you okay? Can I help you with something?”

She’s young, pretty, maybe a few years older than you, with doe-like green eyes and a pale face dappled with caramel-colored freckles. 

“I-I was just, um… looking for an envelope? A-and a stamp, if you have any,” you confess shakily, your heart pounding and cheeks burning as you fidget nervously with the hem of your shirt. You glance over the girl’s shoulder and see a door you hadn’t noticed before, now open. There’s a drab-colored couch and a small flickering TV inside, playing at a volume low enough that you hadn’t heard it at all through the closed door. She must spend most of her night shift in there, watching reruns of old movies and munching on stovetop popcorn to stay alert just in case some poor soul comes stumbling into the office in need of her assistance. You feel a small pang of jealousy in your stomach as you imagine what a relaxed, carefree night she must have been having, while you were fighting for your life under the very same roof.

“Oh, sure! They’re just, um… Excuse me—” she says meekly as she steps in your direction. You scurry out of her way, swiping the pen and paper from the top of the desk as you do. She takes your place to crouch down and tug open the very bottom drawer in the stack you had been searching through, and rifles around for just a moment before she finds what she’s looking for. She hands the items off to you as she rises back to her full height, just a couple of inches above your own. “Here you are. Is that all you need?”

Yes. No. Not even fucking close.

You turn over the stationery in your hands, running your thumbs across the smooth surface of the envelope as you debate whether or not you should ask her for what you really need—help. 

But the girl has so much life in her eyes, so much color in her cheeks that you can see even in the office’s low lighting, that you’d never be able to forgive yourself if you decide to involve her in this. Her face would be printed on the side of a milk carton the second you open your mouth.

“Mhm, just this stuff. Thank you.” You do your best to make it sound like the truth.

“...Are you sure?” She presses, gesturing to either side of her neck, her auburn eyebrows peaked with concern.

Shit.

In your effort to make sure your bottom half stayed covered, you had forgotten about the dark marks Joel had created around your throat just a handful of hours earlier. They must be pretty noticeable already, if this girl—Chrissy, her name tag reads—is able to spot them just by the light of one yellow bulb and a few slats of moonlight.

You nod, fighting the whimper that threatens to escape when you bring one hand up to press into your bruises, the other holding your letter-writing supplies in front of your lap.

“Yeah, it’s nothing,” you lie, though you can tell she doesn’t believe you. You wouldn’t believe you, either. But you’re thankful that she decides to let it go, anyway. 

Chrissy nods, too. “So… you’re trying to mail a letter, then? We can’t really send it from here, but there’s a few mailboxes in town, if you’re gonna be sticking around for a little bit.”

“Oh, um… I’m not sure. Maybe,” you reply, offering a small smile as you shift your weight awkwardly. “Thank you.”

Chrissy presses her lips together, giving you another quiet nod along with one last sympathetic glance at your disheveled form. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else? I might have a pair of sweatpants with me if you—”

“No, no, it’s okay. I have to… he’s gonna, um…” You fumble, gesturing back to the room at the end of the row while you scramble for some kind of excuse that doesn’t give too much of your situation away. “I’m just going back to bed anyway, so… I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

A few beats of silence linger between you before you speak up again. “Could I write it in here, though? Just like… at the desk? I’ll be quick, I promise.”

She looks at you like you’re a kicked puppy as she replies, “Of course you can. I’ll be back there, if you decide you do want the change of clothes after all. If you could just close the door on your way out, and… be careful, okay?”

“Okay,” you half-whisper, and you can’t help the way your bottom lip trembles when Chrissy retreats back into that cozy little room, leaving the door cracked open just enough for the voices from her movie to keep you company while you write. You glance up at the clock once before you begin, promising to allow yourself no more than five minutes to say what you need to say, seal it away in the envelope, and sneak back into bed without Joel ever noticing you were gone. 

You used to pride yourself on your neat handwriting, when you were still in school and a thing as trivial as that actually mattered. But you haven’t had to write anything by hand in so long now that you hardly recognize the disconnected capital “T”s and chaotically pointed “M”s as you scribble them down. The words are still mostly legible, though, even the ones that were accidentally blurred by stray tears you couldn’t wipe away in time before they hit the page.

You read over the letter once as the clock counts out your last remaining seconds, and decide it’s good enough to be slipped inside the envelope and secured with a swipe of your saliva. Your stomach flips when you go to write your home address on the front, fearing that you’ve forgotten it in all the time that Joel has spent scrubbing you clean of who you were before you met him. But when you close your eyes, you hear the song your father used to sing to you to help you remember it when you were little, in case you ever got lost and needed to tell someone where you came from. It had never really come in handy, until now.

With your sufficiently addressed and stamped envelope in hand, you quietly exit the office and pad your way back down the sidewalk to the room where your captor lies waiting. You press your ear to the door before entering, and wait until you hear the telltale groan of the air conditioning kicking back on. When the mechanical sound reaches its full volume, you slip back through the door and shut it behind you all in one swift, delicate movement. You slink over to your side of the bed like a cat, and tuck the envelope underneath the mattress as you gently crawl back underneath the covers, next to Joel’s still-sleeping form, in the exact same position you had left him in. The slight disruption of your weight depressing the mattress prompts him to roll over in his unconscious state, and his skin is scorching against your own as he wraps you up in his arms again, pulling you tight against his chest. He gives a slow buck of his hips against your backside and releases a quiet growl into your hair that makes you shiver despite the heat he radiates.

You can’t fight the pull of your heavy eyelids for much longer, the wave of adrenaline you had been riding all night finally coming to a crest and crashing against you all at once. Telling your story, getting the words down on paper, having some kind of half-assed plan to make sure you don’t just disappear into the ether, seems to have given you more peace of mind than expected, at least in your delirious, traumatized, and sleep-deprived condition. For now, you’re still treading water, still holding your head above the surface of the deep dark unknown that awaits, and it’s enough for your exhausted mind to finally show you a few hours worth of mercy. 

You will survive this, you won’t disappear, even if you have to take it one excruciating day at a time.

—

The first day of the rest of your life begins that hazy morning after, when Joel finally rouses around ten o’clock from what seems to have been a relatively deep slumber. He tightens his grip around your upper body as he purrs out a sleepy groan, wetly kissing under your ear before mumbling, “Mornin’ babydoll.” Your body seems to have not caught up with reality just yet, evident in the way your cunt still flutters involuntarily at the sound of his gravelly morning voice and the warm slide of his tongue. You curse yourself for the instinctual reaction, wishing you could just reset all of the ways that your nerves have been trained to react to his touch over the past few months.

“Morning, Joel,” you whisper, and you can feel his half-hard length pressing into your back.

“You sleep okay, sweetheart?”

Your eyes go a little wide at his question, and you’re grateful that you’re still facing away from him. Is this a test? You can’t be sure anymore. But if he had ever realized you were gone during the night, surely he wouldn’t wait until the next morning to do something about it… right?

You nod. “Mhm, fine.” Your voice cracks a little, but Joel doesn’t seem to notice.

“Good, tha’s good…” he snakes a hand between your legs, finding its way underneath your—his—oversized shirt to lightly prod at your bare little hole. “And how’s she doin’, hm? Was dreamin’ about her all night, how fuckin’ good ‘n tight she was for me… She feelin’ sore at all this mornin’, babydoll?”

“A little, yeah.” His touch makes you shudder, but you know better than to try and reject it.

Joel tuts, circling the roughened pad of his finger over your clit. “Poor thing… ‘M sorry about that, baby. Jus’ got a lil’ carried away last night, tha’s all. You forgive me, don’t you, sweetheart? You understand?”

You hesitate, swallowing down the bitter taste of the lie you’re about to tell. “Yes, it’s… it’s okay, Joel.”

“Mmm, just the sweetest lil’ girl, ain’t you?” Joel says, swiping two of his fingers through your folds to collect some of your involuntary slick. He pulls his hand out from under the covers and sucks one of the damp digits into his mouth, releasing a pleasured groan. Joel gives another slow grind into your ass before bringing his hand in front of your face, pushing the other still-wet finger between your lips and forcing you to taste yourself. “See how sweet she is for me, baby? Think she forgives me too, don’t she?”

You nod around his finger, humming in pretend agreement.

“Perfect… so perfect for me, my lil’ doll,” Joel muses, sliding his finger back and forth across your tongue and teasing the back of your throat with each intrusive thrust. You fight to suppress your gag reflex until he eventually removes his finger from your mouth, wiping the dampness off on your shirt. “C’mere, pretty girl. Gimme a kiss,” he grumbles, gripping a paw onto your shoulder and pulling backwards, using the leverage to get you to roll onto your other side to face him.

The warm morning light coming in from the window illuminates the back of his head, highlighting the way his mussed salt and pepper locks stick up every which way. This is the first time you’re getting a good look at him since you had first spotted his disturbing keepsake box peeking out from underneath the bench seat, since he had snapped at you for trying to grab it, since you had still thought that would be the worst thing he’d ever do to you. It’s almost comical, in a sinister sort of way, how harmless Joel looks like this, with his scarred nose and stubbled cheeks still rosy from sleep.

You hadn’t anticipated how complicated it would be to still have to feign intimacy with him, how dizzying it already feels to stand on the sidelines in your own mind and watch your desire wrestle with your disgust. Joel presses his lips against your own, and you do your best not to grimace as you kiss him back. He still feels the same, still tastes the same, like black coffee and cigarettes and spearmint. But he isn’t the same.

Joel parts your teeth with his tongue as he deepens the kiss, hungrily lapping into your mouth as you let him take what he wants, only pulling away from him once he breaks the connection first. He brushes some of your hair away from your face when he does, admiring your slightly swollen lips as he rubs his calloused thumbs across your cheeks.

“Whaddya say we just have ourselves a nice afternoon together, hm? Think there might be a lil’ town nearby, could get us somethin’ to eat, maybe even do some shoppin’, dependin’ on what’s there.”

There’s a few mailboxes in town, if you’re gonna be sticking around for a little bit, you hear Chrissy’s voice repeat what she had told you last night, and feel an exhilarated pang in your chest when you remember the envelope you have hidden beneath you.

You try not to answer too eagerly, taking a beat before you respond with a quiet “Really?” “Yeah, babydoll. Why, you don’t wanna?”

“No! No, I—that sounds good. I just didn’t think… I thought you’d wanna get going again, or something. After… you know.” You bring your hand up to touch the sore sides of your neck instinctually, unable to bring yourself to say it, to think about it for longer than a couple of seconds. 

“Like I said, sweetheart. We’ll just leave your hair down today, nobody’ll see ‘em,” Joel says casually.

It’s unsettling, the evenness in Joel’s tone as he suggests having a normal day together, attempting to just move on as if the contusions you’re discussing aren’t a direct result of his abuse. You’ve only just woken up, and you’re already feeling the whiplash from the softness of his words in comparison to the degradation he was spitting at you last night. You wonder how much of it he even remembers, if he had really just let some entirely separate entity inside of him get “carried away”, or if it was all Joel. He couldn’t have been that good at hiding his true self from you the entire time you’ve known him, could he? What does it say about you if the signs had been there all along, and you’d either chosen to ignore them, or missed them completely? How can you ever be sure now which Joel you’re in the company of at any given time?

“Okay,” you agree, putting on a small smile that he’s quick to return. 

“Alright, we’ll get to it, then. Jus’ stay put, sweetheart, lemme bring our stuff back inside, find you somethin’ to wear.” Joel plants a whiskery kiss on your hairline before tossing the sheets aside and rising to his towering height, retrieving the key to the truck from underneath his pillow in the process. You can’t help the way your stomach flips as you watch him lumber towards the door, squeezing your thighs together under the covers at the sight of his visible morning wood bobbing in his briefs with each heavy step. You roll back onto your other side as soon as he steps over the threshold, letting the corners of your mouth drop as you curse yourself again. Is this how it’s going to be from now on? A constant battle between wanting to forget and feeling disgusted with yourself for even trying to? There has to be some way to navigate this without completely fucking loathing yourself for just trying to stay alive. 

Joel returns to the room a few minutes later with his arms and hands full of the clothing he’s chosen for both of you. He drops his boots onto the carpet with a heavy thud, but sets your own shoes down next to them with more care. He tosses a few articles of his own things onto his side of the bed before coming around to yours, holding out his free hand for you to take. “Up you go, babydoll, c’mon,” he commands. You grab hold of his steady hand, using it for support as you slide out from underneath the covers and push yourself off the mattress, the springs creaking in protest.

Joel entwines his thick fingers in yours as he leads you toward the small bathroom. You loosen your grip to shut the door behind you, expecting him to drop his handhold to allow you some privacy, but his grasp only tightens. You inhale sharply at the dull pain caused by his fingertips digging into the back of your hand, and turn to face him with panicked eyes. The stern expression you’re met with makes your heart rate quicken, terrified that you’ve already somehow found a way to upset him again.

“I just need to use the bathroom first, I’ll try to be quick,” you insist, still attempting to untangle your fingers from his.

“Not with the door closed you don’t.”

“...W-why?” You question timidly.

Joel jerks his head toward the shower, his gaze still trained on you. “That lil’ window up there. Just gotta make sure you ain’t gonna try anythin’, tha‘s all.”

You glance over to the tiny window he’s referring to, the kind that doesn’t even open all the way, just cracks open enough to let the steam out.

“But… I couldn’t even fit through there. And I… I learned my lesson, Joel, I promise—”

“Shh, don’t gotta get all worked up, ‘s alright, sweetheart. Jus’ do what I ask, okay?” Joel finally drops your hand in favor of cradling the side of your neck, brushing his thumb across the tender cartilage at the front of it. “You understand, don’t you, baby? ‘S just a precaution.��� 

Joel speaks to you so gently, with such adoration in his tone and in his expression, even with the threatening placement of his hand on your throat. The blatant display of manipulation makes you dizzy. You drop your gaze from his face to the bathroom floor, and try to use the cool sensation of the tile against your bare feet to ground yourself. 

“Are you gonna watch me while I… go?” You ask meekly, your cheeks warming with embarrassment.

“No, no, sweet girl,” Joel placates, using a hooked finger to lift your head back up. “I’ll wait outside for you. Jus’ leave the door ‘bout halfway open, ‘s all I’m askin’. Besides, ain’t nothin’ I haven’t seen before, hm?” He pinches at your chin with a teasing smile, continuing to act as if everything he’s asking of you is completely ordinary. 

“Yeah, but…” You start, but Joel huffs in warning.

You concede with a sighed “Okay,” and he finally leaves you to conduct your business. You’re thankful that he at least isn’t watching you, instead just leaning his broad back against the doorframe outside the bathroom with his arms crossed. Although, you think he might’ve taken a peek when you had first sat down, in the brief moment when your oversized t-shirt was rucked up to your tummy. You go through the motions as quickly as possible so as not to prolong your mortification, practically flushing and stepping over to the sink all in one hurried movement. Joel slides himself behind you as you’re washing your hands, setting your clothing down on the back of the toilet before placing his hands on your hips. His hard length is slotted against your backside, and you do your best to ignore him as you dry your hands with the bleach-stained motel towel. He only continues to use his weight to press you harder against the edge of the sink, undeterred by your efforts, and you wince a little at the pain that begins to pulse under your ribcage.

“Lemme tell you how this is gonna be from now on, okay babydoll? Look at me,” Joel orders, and you meet his darkened eyes in the mirror where he towers above you as he continues, “You ain’t gonna do nothin’ for yourself or by yourself ever again, ‘s that clear? Nothin’. Know we had some of that before our lil’... incident… and you liked that, didn’t you, baby? Liked me takin’ care of you like that?”

You nod, because it’s true.

“You’re nothin’ but a lil’ doll to me from now on. Gonna let me dress you this mornin’, do your hair up, brush your teeth, everythin’... And when we go out today, you ain’t gonna talk to anybody, ain’t even gonna look at anybody, you understand? Nobody except for me. I’m all you got for the rest of your life. And that’s what we always wanted, ain’t it? Just each other…” He says the last part almost wistfully, letting go of your waist with one hand in favor of twisting a lock of your hair around one of his roughened fingers. “You’ll come to like livin’ like this, babydoll. Got no other choice, do you?” 

You swallow, biting your lip to stave off burning tears that you know will only upset him if you let them spill. 

“Do you?” Joel repeats.

“N-no, I don’t,” you reply, and he hums in satisfaction before rewarding you with a wet kiss to your temple that makes your skin crawl. 

“Yeah, tha‘s right… Turn around now, arms up for me, sweetheart.” Joel steps back from the sink to allow you room to obey his command, and you don’t hesitate to do so. He carefully lifts his t-shirt over your head before tossing it to the floor, and you shiver as the breeze blowing in from that one cracked window wraps itself around your naked form. Joel tuts when you wrap your arms over your pebbled nipples on instinct, gently scolding, “Nuh uh, don’t cover up what’s mine. Lemme look at ya.” He uses a light touch to guide your limbs down to your sides, whistling low as his predatory eyes roam around your trembling body, spending a few extra moments on your exposed chest. “Most gorgeous lil’ thing in the whole world… Would jus’ parade you around with me all bare like this if I could, show y’ off to everybody. Bet you’d like that, huh babydoll?” He taunts, pinching at one of your hardened buds.

“Y-yeah, I would,” you appease quietly, but he doesn’t seem to pay your unenthusiastic response any mind, too preoccupied with shimmying a new pair of panties up your legs. He takes a little too much extra care in settling them around the creases of your thighs, and huffs to himself when he notices the way your little hole squeezes around nothing at the sensation of his fingertips sliding underneath the elastic, just barely teasing your folds. Joel has you turn around to face the mirror again so he can clip your bra behind your back, and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips despite yourself when he zips on the pretty blue dress he picked out for you. You like how it compliments your eyes, even with how tired they look.

Just like Joel had told you he would, he doesn’t allow you to do a single thing for yourself as he completes the rest of your morning routine, holding your chin securely in the dip between his thumb and forefinger as he brushes your teeth and tips a glass of water into your mouth for you to rinse out the minty paste with. He cradles the base of your skull with one hand, using the other to scrub the sleep from your eyes and the oils from your cheeks with a damp washcloth. Joel gets to work on your hair next, pulling the top half of it into two small ponytails and tying each of them off neatly with ivory-colored ribbons. You’re surprised at the delicate movements his hands are capable of despite their size, despite the damage they’ve caused. He’s clearly had some practice with this, but you try not to think about it too hard.

Once Joel deems his doll pretty and presentable, he leads you out of the bathroom and has you sit on the edge of the bed, kneeling before you with some protest from his aching joints. He slips a pair of lace-trimmed socks over your feet, one at a time, followed by the same canvas sneakers you were wearing when you had first met him. The sight of them brings you a little comfort, somehow, the discolored laces and smudged rubber soles making up just about the only familiar things you have in your possession anymore. Nearly everything you own, everything about you, has been tainted by Joel in some way now. You should’ve just taken off in the other direction when he’d pulled over his truck, left nothing but a cloud of dust in your wake and never even have given him the chance to ask you in that stupid disarming Southern twang of his if you needed a ride, if you were lost, if you had family or a boyfriend who cared about you enough to come looking for you. You’d advertised yourself in big bold lettering that you were the perfect fucking victim, practically wrapping the rope around your white woolen neck yourself so he could lead you to slaughter. This is what you deserve, stupid lamb that you are. Look at you now.

Joel instructs you to stay perched on the bed while he completes his own morning regimen, and you hang your head low as you rest your hands in your lap, picking at the skin around your fingernails. They’re practically raw now, but you can’t stop even though you should, even though it hurts, even though you’ve made yourself bleed. It had always been a nervous habit of yours, and you hadn’t noticed until you started up again last night that this was probably the nicest your nail beds had looked in years. You’d felt so comforted, so safe with Joel that you hadn’t had a reason to continue the self-destructive behavior, until all those fluttery feelings were ripped out from under you in a second. You’d been biting and tearing at your skin all night in addition to the many other things you’d been doing instead of sleeping, the habit having returned with a force as you’d used the pain to… what? To make up for the lack of blood you’d shed, to apologize to the ghosts of Anna and Elizabeth and Ruby and ask them please not to haunt you, you’re sorry, you’re sorry, you’re sorry. See? He’d made you bleed, too.

You’ve been attempting to balance your attention between your hands and the bathroom, waiting for an opportunity to arise where Joel is distracted enough for you to retrieve the envelope from its hiding place without him seeing. You keep your chin close to your chest as you observe his movements, trying not to make it too obvious that you’re watching him. After a few minutes, he finally bows his head into the sink to splash some water onto his skin, and you quickly reach behind you to swipe the letter and shove it underneath the waistband of your panties. Joel still hasn’t lifted his head back up by the time you’ve got it situated, and the corner of your mouth twitches in satisfaction. For a plan that you’re basically just making up as you go along, it’s going better than you expected. 

You return to your preoccupation with your hands as you wait for Joel to finish up, and you remain hunched over yourself even as he flicks off the bathroom light and stalks over to where you’re now sucking the taste of bitter iron from one of your fingers. He startles you out of your focused state when he asks, “What’re you doin’, babydoll?”

You lift your head up, releasing the smarted skin from your mouth as you hold out your hand to examine the injury. Both of you watch a little crimson pearl begin to swell in the groove where your nail disappears into the skin. “Oh…” Joel sighs, grabbing your hand gently and raising it closer to his face, turning it this way and that to admire how your blood catches the light. You swear you can see his pupils dilate before he sucks your finger into his own mouth, swirling his tongue around your skin as he savors the metallic tang mixed with the remnants of your saliva. You feel the sharp edge of his teeth graze the pad of your finger, and your breath catches as you fear he might just bite the thing clean off from the last knuckle down. He doesn’t, of course, just lets his eyelids quiver and his cock twitch before releasing the digit from his mouth and rumbling out a quiet growl. You can’t help the somewhat sickened expression that overtakes your features as you watch Joel’s perverted little display, but work to fix it into something more neutral as he opens his eyes again.

“Pretty sure I got some bandaids in the truck, lemme get dressed ‘n then we’ll hit the road, hm?” he says, in a tone too casual to belong to someone who’d just had a near orgasmic reaction to tasting your blood. You suppose this is just another consequence of your survival—having to endure Joel’s unconcealed freakish tendencies now that he knows you’re not a flight risk anymore.

Joel tugs on his standard uniform—his thick canvas jacket layered overtop a simple undershirt and earth-toned flannel, paired with tattered jeans and his sturdy leather work boots. You allow him to help you to your feet as he leads you out to the truck, his thick fingers laced tightly through the ones of your non-bloodied hand. You have to squint at how bright the late morning sky is, your eyes aching as they adjust from the dim lighting of the motel room. 

“Hey, morning!” Comes a cheery voice from down the row. You turn your head in the direction of the sound, and put your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun in an effort to get a better view of the person it came from. When your gaze finally focuses, you’re able to make out a feminine figure with auburn hair and alabaster skin, her slender arm waving at you in greeting—Chrissy.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You dip behind Joel, attempting to hide yourself from her view. He puts a protective hand across your body, and takes the lead in responding to her. “...Mornin’. Can we help you with somethin’?”

Her footsteps pause on the pavement, and there’s a beat before she says anything else, likely not expecting Joel’s less-than-friendly response to her sunny demeanor. “...No. Well, I just wanted to say ‘hi’, check in on you—Both of you,” she corrects herself quickly. You’re staring straight down at the sidewalk, avoiding eye contact just like Joel had demanded of you. But you can still see her out of the corner of your vision, attempting to lean around Joel’s large form to get a better look at you. You feel like your heart is about to burst out of your fucking ribcage as Joel turns his head toward where you’re cowering behind his arm, then slowly back to Chrissy. 

“We’re fine,” he says plainly. 

The silence that follows feels like it lasts an eternity. You hate how weak you must look in front of her, practically shaking where you stand like a newborn fawn while you seek the protection of this much older man whose hands, Chrissy must notice, are large enough to have created the marks on your neck that she had pointed out last night. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together, to figure out the reason—the person—behind your flighty, nervous, and fidgety behavior in the office. Chrissy takes a few steps backwards, away from this strange couple standing before her, one she realizes is in her best interest not to engage further with.

Her voice comes out noticeably more unsteady now than it did when she had first approached you. “W-well, I just like to say ‘hi’ to guests on my way out if I see them. So… ‘hi’, and, um… if you need anything, someone else will be here soon to cover the office.” She rushes through the latter part of her sentence, like she just wants to spit all the words out as quickly as possible so that the interaction can be over with. You can’t see his face, but you suspect Joel is giving her some kind of hooded-eyed look that’s making her stumble over her words. “Have a good day, you two. Be careful,” she adds before she departs, and you know that those last two words were meant for you.

Joel watches her as she disappears around the corner of the building, only lowering his arm once she’s completely out of sight. You don’t look up until the sounds of her footsteps dissipate, until Joel’s arm is on your lower back as he ushers you into the truck. 

“Get in, baby,” he commands, opening the door for you and helping you up into the passenger side of the bench seat. He reaches across your body to buckle your seatbelt for you before you can even lift your hand to do it yourself.

Once you’re situated to his liking, Joel closes your door and makes his way over to the driver’s seat, climbing inside and igniting the rumbling engine. He roots around in the truck’s center console, tossing aside cigarette butts and gum wrappers and loose change, eventually coming up with a single bandaid. Its paper sleeve looks crumpled and neglected, and you suppose it’s because he’s never really had a use for it until now. There isn’t much of a point in trying to bandage the type of wounds he typically inflicts, anyway, the damage already having been done.

“Gimme your hand, darlin’, hold it still for me.” Joel tears open the wrapper with his calloused thumbs and flicks away the little paper tabs from the fabric’s sticky surface, wrapping the bandaid around your finger tenderly. It would be a sweet moment, if it weren’t for the way he adjusts himself upon seeing the deep red droplet bloom on the other side of the little cotton pad. You make a mental note to work on finding a different self-soothing mechanism, lest you want to wake up in the middle of the night with his knife at your neck and his cock in his hand, deciding that you weren’t worth keeping around after all, that he just had to know if you really are just as pretty on the inside as you are on the outside, to know if the rest of your volume tastes as sweet as the small sample he’d already taken. 

You sit on your hands the entire ride into town.

—

The drive was mostly silent, but actually kind of pleasant, finally giving you a real opportunity to take in the vast surroundings of… wherever you are, New Mexico. Your hands had gotten uncomfortably warm where they were squished under the bare skin of your legs for the entire half-hour or so drive, but you didn’t dare remove them. You’d have had nowhere else to put them anyway, not with the way Joel’s large paw was clamped onto your upper thigh, his pinky finger slipping underneath the hem of your dress and tracing the edge of your panties. You were grateful you’d had enough forethought to slip the envelope into the right side of your underwear, predicting that he’d get handsy like this in the truck. You’d just kept your body perfectly rigid with your head turned away from him, and tried not to descend into madness thinking about what he had made of your interaction with Chrissy earlier, if he suspected anything, if he knew you were hiding something, if he suddenly developed x-ray vision overnight and knew exactly what you were concealing under your dress.

Relief washed over your nervous system as you’d observed jagged rockwork and ochre-colored scrub brush gradually turn into modest Pueblo-style homes and businesses, glad to have finally been granted an opportunity to escape the motel after your twelve hours of terror. The steadily approaching signs of civilization had served as a reminder that the world does actually have other people in it besides you and Joel, despite what he’s been attempting to convince you of.

The town had become more populated the further the truck had chugged along down the main street, with a few friendly-looking people walking their dogs and carrying paper grocery bags as they strolled along the storefronts. You had even found yourself staring at a group of girls around your age sipping their coffees together on a bench, giggling and gossiping and making you wish you had problems as superficial as theirs. They reminded you of the type of girl Ruby was, bright-eyed and carefree and beautiful, and you’d tried to swallow down the bitter resentment that had begun to simmer in the pit of your stomach. Joel hadn’t even seemed to notice the girls as the truck passed them by, and you weren’t sure if his disinterest should make you feel satisfied or hopeless. Yesterday, you would’ve told yourself that you’re the love of his life, of course he wouldn’t dare have eyes for anyone but you, he’ll never leave your side for the rest of his life. But the sentiment takes on a much different connotation today, feeling more like a life sentence than a daydream.

You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the truck had finally rolled to a stop outside of a quaint little restaurant, its terracotta awning decorated in twinkling lights. The sign on the facade read The Coyote Café, and had a little silhouette of the namesake animal painted next to the words. You could see through the turquoise-trimmed windows that there were already a handful of other patrons inside enjoying their meals, and it made you feel a little safer, knowing that Joel would be more motivated to put his mask back on in front of so many pairs of eyes. In a town this small, the two of you probably stick out like a sore thumb enough as it is, the café seeming like the kind of place where the waitresses know the regulars by name. You were eager to finally be able to drop your defenses, at least for a little while.

Joel had chosen a table all the way in the back corner of the place, furthest from the door, and had insisted on the both of you sharing the same side of the booth. Although you could feel a few stares on you, you’d remained steadfast in your obedience of the rules he had laid out for you this morning, and kept your head down while he placed your orders with the waitress—a plate of enchiladas and a beer for him, and a cheese quesadilla with a glass of water for you. You probably would’ve been able to eat more, but you suspected that his choice of meal for you was deliberate, so as not to provide you with too much energy that you might use to make another break for it. It had reminded you of the way he had convinced you to take your coffee decaf at Moody’s that night, all of it seeming so fucking obvious now, in hindsight. 

“You know somethin’, babydoll?” Joel suddenly asks through a mouthful of beans and rice. “Think I saw a lil’ consignment shop just down the way. Whaddya say we head on over there next, let you pick out somethin’ pretty for yourself since you been so good today, hm?”

You hadn’t exchanged many words as you’d been eating, other than the occasional semi-awkward comment about how nice the weather is or how good your meals are. Ordinarily, you’d be making up stories about the interesting-looking strangers sitting at the counter, or quizzing each other on the country songs playing over the radio, or debating whether the color of his flannel was really green or brown. You’d sometimes hang out at diners so late into the evening that the waitstaff would have to kick you out, and you’d be apologetic as you made your way back out to the truck, hardly able to believe how much time you’d lost track of while you were flicking wadded up straw wrappers at each other or taste testing each other’s desserts. You mourn the version of Joel in those memories as you push around the crumbs on your plate, quietly responding to him with, “Really? You’d let me?”

“‘Course I would, sweet girl.” He wipes the corners of his mouth with a napkin before lowering his voice, leaning down closer to your ear. “Long as you let me take it off of ya later tonight.”

“Let me.” As if you have any other choice.

Joel chuckles at his own crude comment as he slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you flush to his side. He finishes the rest of his meal with one hand while he rakes the other along your upper arm, occasionally sliding a finger underneath your bra strap and snapping it against your skin. You’re only able to let your posture relax for just a moment when the waitress brings around the check, and he finally removes his scalding hand in order to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket. He slaps a few crumpled bills onto the table, and then his thick fingers are forcing themselves in between your own smaller ones as he pulls you up from the booth and leads you out of the café. You spare a glance at the motherly-looking waitress on your way out, and you exchange sympathetic looks with each other behind Joel’s back. You wish she didn’t look so sorry for you, like you’re a wounded animal being dragged around by the hunter who shot an arrow through your heart. But isn’t that what you are?

Your feet stop dead in their tracks when you step down onto the sidewalk outside the cafe, your brain too enamored with the landscape of the surrounding valley to tell them to keep moving. The wide open sky and limestone hills dappled with towering evergreens almost look like a painting, the way the mountains turn paler shades of blue-green as they extend further into the distance. It’s so unlike the flat, beige midwestern states where you and Joel had begun your journey together, it almost takes your breath away.

“You just gonna stare up at the sky all day, or d’you wanna get to shoppin’, hm?” Joel says, startling you from your state of wonder.

“Oh, no, we can go. I’m sorry,” you submit, hurrying to Joel’s side. He makes an enamored little hum and kisses the top of your head before continuing to pull you along the storefronts. You keep your head down, counting the cracks in the pavement as you work to keep up with his long strides. 

“See that buildin’ down there, the one with the pink siding? Tha’s the lil’ clothin’ store I was talkin’ about.” You flick your eyes upward to where Joel is pointing a lazy finger, immediately spying the technicolor little shop he’s referring to. The unusual choice in paint color is certainly eye catching, but what you’re really drawn to is the dark blue metal receptacle standing on the sidewalk just in front of it—a mailbox, just like Chrissy told you there would be.

This is it. This is your chance. When you get up to the mailbox, you’ll improvise a way to direct Joel’s attention elsewhere, and use the opportunity to slip the envelope from under your dress and deposit it into the box without him noticing. You’ll have to move quickly, precisely, quietly, or it’s all over. 

You should start tugging it loose now, so that it’ll be halfway in your hand already by the time you reach the store. You pat your hand against your upper thigh, expecting to feel the paper crinkling against your skin.

Except, you don’t. You can’t feel it. It isn’t there anymore. 

You feel panic start to bloom in your chest, but try your best to keep your cool. The mailbox is only a few paces away now, and you’ll have nothing to deposit into the slot, because your chance at preventing yourself from being completely forgotten by the one person in your life who might actually care, is gone. Vanished.

Where the fuck is it? Had it fallen out when you were exiting the truck? Is it laying on the floor of the cab for Joel to discover when he helps you back into your seat later? Where could it possibly have—

“Hey, excuse me! Mister?” A young-sounding voice—male, unfamiliar— shouts from behind you, followed by the sound of jogging footsteps. Joel turns around, your hand still held securely in his own. Your feet stay planted exactly where they are, your eyes unblinking and locked onto the mailbox, just barely out of reach. “Did one of you drop this? Found it on the floor by your table when I was cleaning up, didn’t want you to leave it behind.”

“Uh… don’t think so. Lemme take a look—” Your arm pulls in an uncomfortable direction as Joel reaches toward the boy to retrieve the mystery object. Well, it’s a mystery to him, you already know exactly what it is. All you can do is hold your breath while Joel undoubtedly reads your handwriting on the front of the envelope, hoping that if you stand perfectly still, you might really be able to disappear. Without the letter, that’s the ending you’re destined for now, anyway.

Joel laughs breathily. “Y’know what, son? Think we did drop this. Thank you kindly for bringin’ it back to us.” Joel squeezes your hand so hard you think all the fragile little bones might shatter, and you bite your lip to stifle a pained whimper. Your eyes start to water as the crippling fear you had felt last night begins to climb its way up the back of your throat, and you wonder if this bus boy in the middle of nowhere, New Mexico, might just become the last person besides Joel to see you alive. Or at least, the back of your head. Without giving him a good look at your face, he wouldn’t even be able to recognize you when they show your picture on the news a day or two from now, or be able to go to the police and tell them that this lumberjack-looking older man he encountered was the one he saw you with last. You should’ve known better than to try tempting fate again. 

“Of course! Have a good one,” says the bus boy, and a tear escapes your waterline as you wait for the sounds of his footsteps to fade. You can’t be sure if the wetness collecting on your lashes is from the pain of Joel’s iron grip on your hand, or from the sheer terror of being found out by him again. What you do know, is that he doesn’t seem like the type to let you go through all three strikes before he puts you out.

“We will,” Joel responds, but only loud enough for you to hear.

He turns back around after what feels like an eternity, sighing disappointedly. You don’t need to look at him to know that he's upset, angry, furious. It radiates off his skin, penetrates your soul, wraps itself tightly around your throat in replacement of his hands. Your palm is sweating, but he doesn’t let go, just digs his dull nails into the back of your hand as he snarls a one-worded command close to your ear—”Walk.”

Joel drags you the rest of the way to the mailbox, shoving you down onto the wooden bench just beside it. You’re surprised that whatever it is he’s about to do to you, he’s confident enough to do it in broad daylight, in front of a few dozen potential witnesses. You keep your eyes on the ground, waiting to hear the flick of his pocket knife or the cracking of his knuckles, but all that comes is a tired groan as he kneels before you, lifting your chin up to face him. 

Joel wags the envelope in front of your face with his other hand, looking at you with a more pitied expression than an enraged one. “You wanna tell me what this is, babydoll?” He asks in a confusingly even tone. You search his eyes for the reddish hue they had become last night when he was spewing obscenities at you and threatening your life, but you don’t find it. 

“It’s… it’s a letter,” you admit, blinking away tears. You avoid his gaze even with your chin raised, looking around at the townspeople to see if any of them are staring at the little scene the two of you are putting on. 

“Don’t look at them, baby, look at me. They ain’t gonna help you.” Joel jostles your face in his grip, and you flick your eyes back to him immediately. “I can see that it’s a letter, sweetheart. Who were you plannin’ on sendin’ it to, hm? Whose name is this?” Joel prompts, using his thumb to tap the name and address you had scribbled onto the center of the paper.

You let out a sob, the patronizing tone of his questioning making you feel so fucking stupid with just a few words. How is he so fucking good at this? At breaking you down, spinning the effects of his own actions back onto you, making you feel like the one in the wrong.

“My mom, I… I wrote it to my mom,” you reply through little sniffles, and you can hardly stand the exaggeratedly sympathetic way that Joel’s eyebrows peak at your answer.

“Babydoll… What could you possibly have to say to her? You ‘n I both know she don’t care about you anymore, never did. She’d open this up and just throw it right in the trash… I mean—” Joel releases your chin from his hold in order to slide his thumb along the envelope’s seal, tearing open the flap and removing the page of motel stationery you had written your plea on in the dim lighting of the office. “Here, sweetheart. Why don’t you read it to me, lemme hear what you wanted to tell her so badly you decided to do it behind my back. You snuck outta bed last night to do this, I assume?”

You nod, taking the letter from his hand and unfolding it.

“Hm… Have to do somethin’ else about our sleepin’ arrangements from now on, then.” You don’t know what he means by that, and you aren’t looking forward to finding out. “Read it to me, darlin’, go ‘head.”

You take a deep breath, blinking hard as you try to get your watery eyes to focus on the page. “I s-said that, um… that I was sorry for leaving, that I don’t blame her for the way she treated me growing up.” You pause to swallow the moisture collecting in the back of your throat as you cry, and attempt to steady your wavering voice before you continue. “A-and… that I was with you, that we’ve been traveling together, but… But I got scared, and I w-wanted her to come get me. Um… ‘Please don’t forget about me. I love you. I’ll see you when you get here.’ That’s the last thing I said.” You set the letter down on your lap and collapse in on yourself, burying your wet face in your hands as your sobs become full force.

“Oh, babydoll…” Joel soothes, rubbing a hand up and down your arm as you cry. “Where did you get all these ridiculous ideas, hm? Sayin’ that you love her, that you forgive her? I mean, do you really believe she’d come lookin’ for you all the way out here, snatch you up and take you home ‘cause she cares so much about you?” “I… I don’t know, maybe. I just couldn’t sleep last night, I got so afraid of—” “That girl in the parkin’ lot this mornin’... it was her, wasn’t it? You moseyed on into the office lookin’ all pitiful last night and she talked you into doin’ this? She took advantage of you, baby?” Joel brushes a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his face contorted in dramatic concern.

You’re so caught off guard by his accusations, your shuddering body finally stills. You lift your head up from your hands, wiping your eyes on the backs of them. “...What?”

“I mean, I know you know better than this, so it must’ve been her, puttin’ all these nonsense ideas into your head, convincin’ you to do somethin’ that’d only get you hurt… She don’t know what’s good for you like I do, baby. What was gonna happen when you sent off your lil’ letter, and you waited ‘n waited ‘n waited, and your mama never came for you? Who’d be there to take care of you, hm? Me. Always gonna be me.” Joel gently swipes his thumbs underneath your eyes, collecting the salty dampness still there. He sounds so sure of his own words, they’re almost convincing you that you’re misremembering your encounter with Chrissy last night. It was late, you were exhausted, and Joel is right, you do know better, you’ve told him yourself. Had she done more than just provide you with the envelope and stamp? Was the idea in your head before you walked into the office, or had she somehow persuaded you of it without you being any wiser? You’d remember if Joel’s version of the story is the one that really happened, wouldn’t you?

“No, Joel, she didn’t—” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“She did, baby, I think she did… Poor girl, must’ve been too out of it to even remember what really happened. D’you see now? This is why it’s gotta be just you ‘n me from now on, sweetheart. ‘Cause there’s all kinds of people out there like her who wanna get inside your head, convince you of things that ain’t true…”

As undeserving as Chrissy may or may not be of the blame for your childish endeavor, you feel relieved that your most recent act of defiance doesn’t seem to have the same effect on Joel as the one you attempted last night. He seems more… sorry for you, than anything else, and you aren’t quite sure why he seems to feel differently now than he did a mere twelve hours ago. Maybe he views it as proof of your loyalty, the fact that you had made it outside, gotten yourself a small taste of freedom, and still decided to crawl back into bed with him afterwards. You could’ve taken off running down the road if you’d really wanted to, his “insurance policies” be damned, but you didn’t. You stayed. And you hate what that says about you—that you’re fucking weak. But you’ll take “weak” over “dead”, at this point.

You decide to poke the bear a little bit, just to confirm if you’re in the clear the way you seem to be. “So… you’re not upset?” 

“No, no, I ain’t upset with you, baby. But this is why you can’t do things without me no more, okay? Can’t trust nobody out there except for me, can you?”

You pause, then shake your head at him.

“Good, good girl… Y’know what, baby? Here—” Joel reaches into the pocket of his jacket, and pulls out a tarnished silver lighter. “Why don’t we just forget about all this, huh? Forget about your mama, that girl back at the motel… All those people who don’t care about you the way I do.” He places the cool metal object in your hand and closes your fingers around it. 

“You… want me to burn it?”

Joel shrugs, quirking his mouth into a pout. “Don’t see why you’d wanna keep it… Ain’t goin’ anywhere, is it?”

“...No, guess not,” You mumble under your breath. You know what this means, what it symbolizes, why he wants you to do it yourself. So you can bear witness to your one last glimmer of hope dissolving into embers and ash on the sidewalk at your feet, so you can understand that there is no other outcome other than the one Joel had predetermined for you the second you had agreed to let him take you to Moody’s that night. There is no way out. There is submitting to him, and there is death. Take your pick.

You flick open the lighter, raise the flame to the paper, and watch it ignite. It only takes a few seconds before you feel the heat begin to lick at your fingers, and you drop the still-burning remainder of the letter onto the pavement below so as to spare your hands any further injury today. It curls in on itself and crumples as it chars, and the two of you stare at it until it’s nothing more than a smoldering pile of cinders. You swear you can see an amused smile tug at the corners of Joel’s lips in the edge of your vision.

“Don’t that feel better, baby? Finally lettin’ go of her?” he asks, taking the lighter from your hands and shoving it back into his pocket, along with the envelope. 

You sniffle once, shrugging. “A little.”

“I know, sweet girl. It will, in time. You’ll understand sooner or later.” Joel groans as he pushes himself back up from his kneeling position, then extends a hand down for you to take. He helps you stand, then adjusts your hair to sit nicely over your bruises again, before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Now, that red-headed girl… Did you get her name, sweetheart?”

“...Chrissy. Her name was Chrissy,” you answer hesitantly, the intonation of your response sounding more like a question.

“Chrissy…” Joel repeats, letting her name settle on his tongue. “Whaddya say we just head on back, see about payin’ Chrissy a lil’ visit, hm?” He retakes your hand in his, then starts in the direction of the truck.

Your heart sinks into your stomach, realizing the hidden meaning of his words. “Jus’ gotta bring ‘em to me, tha’s all. Maybe go after ‘em if they try to run,” Joel had rasped into your ear last night, when he was describing the role you’d be forced to play in continuing his sick habit. 

“W-what? Why? She won’t be there anymore, remember? She said she was leaving, that somebody else would be working in the office for the day,” you frantically remind him, hoping that she can be spared after all, hoping that you can be spared from your first time acting as bait.

Joel stops walking for a moment as he considers your words, then pulls you along with him again. “Pay a visit to whoever’s workin’ in there, then. See if they know where she might be.” He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, just stares straight ahead as he hones in on the truck like a missile. The overly concerned facade he had put on earlier seems to be faded now, replaced with something more akin to bloodthirsty determination.

You scrape the far corners of your mind for something, anything you could say to him that might talk him out of this. “But… I thought you said she took advantage of me? Why would you want to see her if you think she tried to hurt me?”

A muscle in Joel’s jaw ticks. His nostrils flare.

“You know why.”

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg @alex-does-art-things @evolnoomym @annoyingmarvelreader @joelsdagger @natalieispunk @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @galway-girlatwork @pinkiec6-rubi @wand-erer5 @arminsbf @shivispunk @gigistorm @theoreticalfreak @vinceelser @always-andromeda @path0logicalpeoplepleaser @old-logan-and-old-joels-slut @zliteraturehoe @k1l4ni @hjzghi-blog @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @kay1805 (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[pompillar]

Surprise I didn't need anyone to ask for it I love pegging and sharing my opinions! So here's wonderwall the ghouls individually with pegging!

(Minors dni plz y'all, respect the boundaries) This can be read as x reader or MC bc I love our girl and she deserves to enjoy herself too

Frostheim

❄️ Jin ❄️

Disaster man. Good fucking luck pal, and by that I mean getting into his room. Have fun arguing with him before he finally gives up and asks you what the fuck you want... wait what??

He's definitely a bit skeptical. It sounds like a lot of work for something he's not actually interested in... but! If you mention that after the set up he doesn't have to do anything and you'll take the lead he might be more inclined.

Man's a bit shaken by how easily you take charge. Dragging him back to his bed and pushing him down. He's been pushed around by a few ladies before who wanted him. He hated it. But... something about the way you're doing it has him feeling something a little different. If you rip the buttons off his shirt when removing it he's going to be flustered, too flustered to even tell you you better replace that.

Jump his fucking bones. Once you finally slip into his well prepped hole he's trying to cover his mouth and keep from making any noise because he wasn't expecting it to feel that good... I think he's very unaware how powerful the prostate is and I wanna see this man get knocked off his pedestal and humbled.

Blushing down to his chest (that pale complexion makes it so easy to see how much he's affected by what you're doing) Also whines so loud when you call him pretty or praise him. If you know how to work your hips you might be able to make him cum hands free. He would be so embarrassed if he did. And you'd have to tell him it's okay, it's hot, it's cute.

Wait you called him cute? *blushing again* He miiiiight hit you up for this another time when he feels like doing the prep again... Let's be real. He's definitely hitting you up again.

♟️ Tohma ♟️

Augh this guy, what's his fucking angle? Not the time for me to mention how irritating I find him on a personal level. You have to track him down before you can ask him anything. That's going to be half the battle at this point. Just text him to meet up in the vault for tea don't waste your time.

What did you need from him? Oh? You wanna peg him? You'll need to tell him way ahead of time. He's a busy man with a very full schedule and a house full of ghouls that should all be on leashes for different reasons.

The definition of topping from the bottom. I'm pretty sure if he's not in control he'll combust. Handles all the prep ahead of time, still taking your clothes off like he's planning to be the one inside you. Does a little strip tease for you when you call him on it. He's sorry, maybe his tantalizing skin will be enough for you to forgive him?

He has one request of you, use one of the toys that has an insertable piece on your end too. He says it's more fun that way but he will 100% activate his stigma when you least expect it to make that thing vibrate like it's a racecar. Snarky bastard just smirks at you when you realize what's happening. Hopefully you can focus on pounding into his tight ass while that thing is buzzing like crazy.

He's also not very loud but he definitely gives you directions, harder, faster, a little more to the left. Very bossy, very smarmy, very rewarding when you finally get him to the breaking point and he has a hard time getting his words together. Oh once he cums he's trying to pull himself together as quickly as possible but you catch the little slip ups in his speech. Bitch you can't hide yourself forever in there, come out of the mental box you're in by choice.

If he's been thoroughly fucked he won't even have the energy to go have a smoke. Let him rest for a while before he has to go back to being the jack of all trades around Frostheim. You will definitely be doing this again if he has any say in it (he has all the say)

⚔️ Lucas ⚔️

This boy... I wasn't expecting to enjoy his so much but he's a sleeper hit.

Luca is a true gentleman, as soon as he hears you have a question for him he's setting aside time just for you. He is nervous as all hell when you mention it, like okay he knows what it is it's not uncommon in England. Has he ever done it? No! I mean not that he's opposed its just not... something he's ever thought of having done to him.

You'd have to guide him with prep and hold his hand through what you'll be doing to him. Even if he thinks it's embarrassing I think he would want you close for every step. He needs someone to be steady as he loses his sense of control.

It's your room hands down, he wouldn't be comfortable at his dorm. Also Kaito would lose his shit if he saw you going into Luca's room at night. Speaking of Luca looks so cute and proper sitting on your bed. Definitely undressing himself to help you. He's not buff but he's muscular for sure. His body is so pretty and you can't help but touch and praise him for it. You know he worked hard for it.

Open him up on your fingers and he will be a whimpering mess. Gripping the sheets and trying to bite his lips to shut himself up. You have to remind him that your dorm is pretty far from prying ears. He won't listen to that, he's too focused on your fingers. Once you slide home inside him though oh my god he's gone. You are hearing the most porn star moans you've ever heard a man make. Rail him. He's such a good pliant boy, you're almost convinced he has hearts in his eyes.

He'll come hard as fuck the first time, head tossed back and gasping for air. Hold him down as he twitches and whines from overstimulation. With how out of it he is it's admirable that he still wants to try and give you your happy ending too. What a sweetheart.

Tells you next time he'll be better prepared and build up a tolerance so he won't cum so fast. Wait, next time? He turns red when you mention it. You'll have to poke and prod him until he tells you he really really liked it. ❤️ Please have him again ma'am.

🏹 Kaito 🏹

You already know this man is down bad. Take him back to your dorm because his ass is not gonna do anything inside that ice castle. Too many chances for embarrassment. Instant over the top reaction, red to the tips of his ears down to his neck. Boy is so chronically online that he genuinely thought most people treated pegging as a joke. Not a chance blondie, get your ass over here.

Sooooo embarrassed he wants to die, refuses help for prepping because he doesn't want you to see that. As if you aren't gonna fuck him stupid anyway. Let him know you're still open to helping if he needs it *wink* Okay don't kill him before you get him to bend over for you!

Very self conscious about his body as he undresses. He's thin, he's not very tall, he's got freckles and let's be honest probably stress acne. Boy is shaking before you even touch him.

Please reassure his nervous ass, he might hyperventilate just seeing your strap. Use a smaller one since he's not gonna be able to handle it the first time. You need to move slow and steady with him. Rub his shoulders and give him kisses and hickies. He needs to know this isn't some weird thing and that you want him because he's Kaito not because he's agreeing to be fucked by you.

As soon as you're in he's sobbing like a baby, not because it hurts, no you made sure it didn't. You fingered him really good. He's just overwhelmed by the intimacy of it. Kaito starts begging you to move, he can't handle the intensity of you sitting still. And he needs you to start fucking him before he goes crazy.

He is sooooooo loud! Like he can't hold back any noise whatsoever. His voice goes so high pitched and whiny. It's so fucking cute. Will pass out after he cums, his vision probably whited out and everything. Take care of him will you?

Just wait a while, he'll come to you like a nervous little bunny asking for it again. You can probably also get him to dress up for you. Kaito is putty in your hands.

Vagastrom

🥊 Alan 🥊

Alaaaaan, ugh, he's so good. You don't have to worry about him being turned off by it. He's open to anything for you. Though he's defintely a little embarrassed by the whole prep deal. He wouldn't tell you he's nervous or anything though. Just grin and bear it. Which is a bad habit of his. You'll need to break that later.

He does come to you with one issue though, he's not small like the other ghouls, he's not pretty like Leo or lean like Sho. Man is worried he isn't the type of guy this activity is made for... oh please prove him wrong.

Your place again, his place has a snooping threat. That's the last thing either of you need. This maaaaan, even kissing he's super careful. Get his gorgeous body out of those clothes and run your hands all over it. He won't let you finger him though... shame, it would have been fun.

Probably won't be able to get him to ride you because he doesn't wanna crush you. But you can absolutely put him in a mating press. Holy fuck this guy is shook. It feels like this? Does it feel like this for you? Does he make you feel this good? He's fighting the raging thoughts running through his pleasure addled brain. So you'll just have to wreck him to turn those pesky thoughts off.

Compliment him the whole time, he's pretty, he's cute, he looks so fucking hot like this. His little choked off moans are adorable. Once he's been fucked to the point he stops trying to control himself you're being treated to the hottest deep throaty noises. (not like a bj guys quit giggling) Make him cry out and beg for more. He's still going to avoid grabbing you despite how much he needs something to hold as he reaches his peak.

Out of it but still wants to make you feel good. His fingers, his tongue, his cock, whatever you want to use to get off. He's all yours. Those words alone might be enough to get you there.

He's going to come to you again when he's gotten too stressed and pent up. Not the usual type he has but super over the boiling point. He needs you to man handle him and make him feel like he's not untouchable or unloveable. Expect this man to be ultra whipped for your strap.

🏍️ Sho 🏍️

Ngggh, this guy is a wild one. Not gonna lie I do love me a biker boy. And a guy who can cook. So anyway! Catch him after the food truck is closed. He'll look amused before you even ask the question, what's he so smug for? Bitch.

Pegging? Alright he's down. Yes it's that easy. Not his first rodeo either. He will tease you and dirty talk your ear off about it though. Senpai~ you want to see him get all cock drunk riding a big strap? Naughty~ Never would have expected you to be so perverted.

You already know he's either coming to yours or getting an R&R permit to take you out to a nice hotel. Somewhere Leo can't follow you and listen in on everything. And you know he would. He'd probably sit outside your window jacking off to it. The creep.

Once you get to the hotel and shower he's back to his usual flirting and teasing. Oh? What are you staring at his chest so hard for? You're surprisingly dirty. Trying to take his towel away with your mind? You just had to ask stupid. *chuckle*

Shut him up with your tongue while you get him stretched, and maybe give his cute ass a few playful swats. He has a very nice ass. It's a shame he rarely shows it off to be honest. If you tug on his hair he'll warn you not to be too rough, can't damage his pretty mane. But give it a nice gentle pull close to his scalp and he'll moan like a slut.

He is absolutely getting on top. Sorry but he likes to ride. He might let you fuck him in other positions but cowboy is definitely his favorite. He's the rider for a reason. And god does he do it well. Rolling his hips like he's on a mechanical bull. His cock bouncing as he whines and moans whenever the strap hits his prostate. Oh but he looks anything but desperate for it, it's slow and sensual until he gets closer.

This show is almost enough to get you off without being touched. It's erotic as hell and you wonder if you should be paying for this. But once he's finished he's eating you out. No ifs ands or buts, you are getting yours too.

He's probably one of the top 5 who come back and ask for you to do it again. Slides you your food and a napkin that says what time and how big of a strap to bring. Winks at you as you walk away.

📱 Leo 📱

Bitch, he's such a bitch, creepy little snoop. What a dick. I just want to see him break and have to live with the fact that an NPC can make him a fucking mess. Tracking him down's not hard. It's the isolating him to ask about it.

You're getting laughed at first and foremost, what makes you think he'd let you anywhere near his ass with a strap on when he doesn't know how well you can use it? He's actually super turned on just thinking about it though. That doesn't mean he won't give you hell over it. He knows he's beautiful and it's hard to resist him but you really are forward. But grab him by the tie and you're shutting him up instantly.

Takes foreverrrrr to prep himself. He's such a diva. Usually set up doesn't take ten hours Leo! Once you have him back with you it's game on. He's all talk and it shows, a single finger is enough for him to start whimpering. Loud, loud loud loud! King whiner. No other ghoul can outwhine him. And it sounds so good.

Make him take it face down ass up, he's going to scream if you use a really big one. (even his screams sound good fuck this guy) But trust, he's not letting you use a small one. He is begging you to fuck him like you mean it with that thick strap. The size queen demands it fast and hard and really big.

You better praise him, he's not doing this for himself! (liar) Oh the second you start calling him pretty or good boy he's grinding back and mewling like a bitch. At this point you might need to muzzle him. He 100% screams when he cums. If you edge him he's gonna call you a whore, I'm sorry, he's not.

Even if he's an asshole you should still clean him up and give him water afterwards. He's already trying to go back to being bitchy. Typical Leo.

You'll be getting a few passive aggressive texts insinuating that you clearly want to do this again. Bonus: if you set up a camera and show the footage to him later he'll actually be speechless and fully hard in under a minute.

Jabberwock

🐰 Haru 🐰

I wanna love him so bad but I have trust issues with characters that have those always closed eyes... Another good luck situation, have fun getting him alone, no Peekaboo, and when he's not busy. On the bright side he's all ears about what you wanted to ask him.

This man? You wanna peg this bean sprout? The one obssessed with ass and overworking himself and ass? Huh. I mean he won't deny he's intrigued. He does love a good ass and he has a pretty decent one if he says so himself. And he does. Anyway! He'll do the hard part of prep first. And find someone to watch the animals properly (Towa... Ren... *i'm watching you gesture*)

Take him back to your dorm to avoid scarring anyone, or sowing jealously into the other Jabberwock boys. (It's okay guys your turn is next!)

As soon as you get him in bed he's doing everything he can to please you. And that's not where this is going sir, sorry. You will have to force him onto his back and tell him that you're in charge tonight and that he needs to just lay back, relax, and enjoy.

Squirms so much because he can't be still. Put his acrobat body to good use and fold him in half, his legs quite literally go up to his ears. It's impressive to be honest. You can also tease him with his own prosthetic arm, he'll be getting overheated and that usually stays fairly cool. Make him jack himself off while you fuck him like a rabbit. The temperature difference will leave him dizzy.

Oh he's also loud, he can't help it. You're treating him so good, making his head go blank, calling him nice things and rearranging his guts. He might be in love after seeing the reverent face you're making at him. Twitches a lot when he cums, and it's a lot too. Probably nails himself in the chin with it.

Clean him up and put him under the covers. He's yours. Expect to wake up being the big spoon, dressed in yours pjs and him in his, him holding Peekaboo. (Bastard went back late last night because he couldn't handle one night without his round boy) This will probably be a lot of your mornings after this kind of night with him. Just know he's going to be your cute little service top/service bottom/service anything you want from now on. Call him any time!

🌻 Towa 🌻

Fairy prince ass, goat eyed brat. What a demonic little angel. He's so difficult to write well. Hopefully this is good for the Towa girlies.

This is a tough one to be honest. Clearly you have to talk to him about it at night or somewhere dark. Because humming and grumbling aren't going to cut it for this discussion. Once you explain it's something you want to do to show him how much you love him he's sold.

Make sure you explain things have to be done first before you get into this. Otherwise he's going to try and do it right now. Pouts but listens to you. He's also down to do it anywhere. Literally anywhere. Does not care what animal gets an eyeful. You decide it's best to take him to your dorm.

He does need help getting himself prepped, or so he says. You think it's just an excuse to watch your concentrated face as you finger him while he whines and bucks his hips against your hand. Also kissing you every five seconds. It's hard to avoid getting into a liplock with this guy. He's also very give and take so expect to get fingered yourself as he's being stretched.

You will be facing each other. He won't have it any other way. He needs eye contact and easy access to kiss you. Play with his dick while you fuck him nice and slow and he'll make pretty little melodic noises. Likes to trap you against him by locking his legs behind you.

Playing with you the whole time, groping your ass to bring you closer? Yup. Massaging your tits and rolling your nipples? Absolutely. If you get close enough it's quite literally an 'awful brave for someone within kissing distance' situation.

He will try to make you cum with him. Whatever it takes. If you don't he's going to handle you instantly after he cums. Pouts during clean up because you aren't cuddling yet. Cuddles are inevitable, goodbye to anything you planned to do later.

Dandelion play with him again soon! Teach him more things he can do to show you his love! ❤️

🎮 Ren 🎮

Ah, angry tsundere, classic flavor, love it every time. You're getting an earful. All of which is just Ren spitting venom because he's scared. He hates intimacy as is and you want to what?! You want to put a fake dick in his ass. Does he look like a little twitch streamer femboy with an onlyfans?! Not gonna happen!

You have to build some trust before going into this. He's emotionally compromised. Man has had some shit happen to him to become such a reclusive jumpy little wet cat of a man. After some gentle convincing and persuation you find out he's actually been researching it himself. He may or may not have already prepped... shut up he's not cute for being smart about it! He isn't blushing!

Once you herd this porcupine into bed he's way more nervous. He seems like he'll sprint away the second he gets spooked. But he's being good for you, don't tease him or he might actually run. Kiss him and give him lots of praise. He'll be red in the face the entire time.

His body is cute, lanky but actually pretty well maintained. Will tell you to stop staring and get on with it. Okay spiky relax, and breathe out while you push into his stretched hole.

Oh he's biting his lip raw trying to stay quiet as you fuck him. It wasn't supposed to be this good. You keep dragging your strap over that spot that makes him see stars. His eyes are watering and he tries to avoid eye contact.

He's crying once you speed up and give it to him harder. But you know it's not pain. No he's just getting the fucking of a lifetime. Whiny whiny whimpering whiner. If he's still able to speak it's insults. Just answer them with praise and he'll shut up quick. He gets really loud the closer to his orgasm he gets, full on ahegao face. Of course he would have one. Fucking nerd.

Aftercare is a movie and cuddling in his bed. He's still blushing hours later unable to believe he just let you do that. That being said... when are you free next? No he just wants to show you a new movie series! Quit grinning you perv!

Sinostra

🎲 Taiga 🎲

Not gonna lie this bastard is who I downloaded the game for... his appearance is so my type. It's unfortunate that his personality repelled me like bug spray. But I still find him a neat little weirdo.

First off, I commend you for your bravery. This jackass depends entirely on mood. I say this with all the love in my heart but he's the cats on my cat from hell that couldn't be helped in human form... humanish... anywho!

He's impressed you have the guts to ask him this. Sure! Could be fun if you're any good at it. If you aren't... well he's probably going to shoot you. So make it worth his while kitty cat!

You have no idea if he even understands how to do prep work. Not one of the questions he answered. Hopefully he does his due diligence. He will act like it was such a pain though. So you really have to perform to a high degree here. He's already a little annoyed by the fuss of it and you have a brain to keep from being splattered on the wall.

You don't have to do much, he's already naked and lazily jacking off when you arrive. Grumbles that it took you long enough and to hurry up and get over here. It's like less than three minutes before you sink your strap into him and he groans in relief.

Do him rough, up against the wall, face down on his bed, hell you could fuck him on the probably expensive fur rug on the floor, he'll be for it. If you manage to do something he doesn't like he'll let you know. Immediately.

Will push you into the torture chair and ride you while cackling. If he's feeling generous he might have a dildo you could ride while he rides you. You will be bitten. Position be damned you will be bitten so fucking much. You'll look like a school of cookie cutter sharks attacked you.

His eyes roll back when he cums, and boy is it a hell of a peak. Still giggling like he's drunk off pleasure as he comes down. You aren't getting away from being his pillow after giving him a good time. Just be prepared to explain who you are in the morning. Probably wanna put your name in his phone as kitty cat so he knows who to text when he wants to have fun again.

🪞 Romeo 🪞

Oh mister high and mighty of noble birthings. I flipflop between wanting this man to choke and wanting to choke him personally. So how does he take the question? About as well as he takes anything with his insanely high blood pressure. Who do you think you are you BB?! You aren't anywhere near important enough to handle him like that! This will launch into his usual acronym infused tirade so take a seat and wait it out. He'll get tired eventually.

That being said I have a feeling he's used to prep work and keeps himself clean frequently. I mean he's got to be ready for anything and that means whatever he gets up to with Hyde. Oh and don't bother bringing anything, after you mentioned it he got a custom leather harness made for you. He has designer dildos, toys and lube already. Take your pick and see if he approves.

If you have the guts to ask he might even wear some pretty high end lingerie. Wine colored lace looks sooooo good on his skin tone and he knows it. He even puts on a little make up to match it. The picture of perfection and sin sprawled out on his uber expensive sheets when you show up.

You're late, quit wasting his time. If you don't give him a good time he will be pissed. Insults are thrown as per usual so time to show Romeo that Juilet is in charge here. And oh is he down for that. He's a pillow prince. Why should he have to do any of the work? He's already prepped himself and given you the opportunity to fuck him.

He's pretty sensitive though, it doesn't take much to get him going, I mean he was already half hard when you showed up. Flip him on his stomach and you see why, a cute gemstone that matches his eyes is nestled between his cheeks. He is actively taking some of the fun out of it. But the sounds he makes when you slowly pull the plug out are worth it. His well stretched hole is on display and ready for the taking. Yells at you to quit gawking and get on with it! You defintely see his neck is red from embarrassment.

Once you get the, actually super comfy, harness on and pick a toy to use it's game over. Have him on his back so you can see his face, grab his wrists and hold them close to your body. He's already moaning like it's the best thing he's ever had. Work your hips fast and make him beg for more. He's loud but it's actually a very pretty sound now.

If he cums on his expensive lingerie expect complaints. But that's only his cover to hide how blissed out and affected he is. He's a sweaty mess so you're absoluttely setting a bath for him. It better have bubbles too. And wine. Pamper him properly afterwards and he'll be calling you over at night pretty frequently. Bonus: You should ask to fuck him in the cage in his auction hall. The prettiest birds deserve the best cages right?

⚖️ Ritsu ⚖️

Jeez, okay this guy is something else. I have a hard time choosing for him. He's adorkable but his lawyer passion is just beyond me most days. Regardless, he probably doesn't know what you're talking about. Will ask you to give him time to research what you're asking him for. You get several texts later to the effect of '?????? Did you misspeak? Is this spelled differently? Hello?????' It's okay you can laugh now before you see him again. Don't laugh at his flushed face when you do see him. It's going to make him second guess himself.

That being said you should absolutely tease him by asking about how his research went. He informs you while his cheeks are red that he thoroughly checked the term and it's origins etc. Including videos... you should 100% ask to watch the ones he found later on. He agrees but you have to sign this pape- smooch him to avoid signing an NDA. He'll be quiet for a bit and tell you that he does need some time still and will give you a date and time for your after hours leisure time...

On the afformentioned day and time he will show up to your room looking cool as a cucumber despite how nervous he is. He's going into this like he's in charge. Helping you undress and folding his clothes to the side like a cute little house hubby. He's still trying to be the dominant one but his face turns very red again when he sees the toy and harness.

Time to show him who's actually in charge here. Be gentle working him open with your fingers, he's going to burst from embarrassment. (Or use Acimo and make it impossible to do anything further) Unsure what he's meant to do at this point and too embarrassed to ask. You need to tell him to relax and enjoy it.

Once you get your strap in you see the absurd calculations going on behind his wide eyes and red face. Please don't let him start on whatever wild theory he's about to extrapolate. Roll your hips slow and watch his thoughts disappear as he grabs onto your shoulders and gasps like he's been scandalized. He has to lean back and let you do the work because he's feeling too good. This was expected from his research but experiencing it is a totally different thing.

Whimpering so loud when he cums. Another one who is very duty bound and wants to give you an orgasm too. But he's too far out of it. I think he might honestly be in sub space after that. Clean him up and cuddle him close to your chest. (Personally I think he has mommy issues so he needs to be cradled in your bosom)

You'll be hearing from him again, it's going to be the most awkward proposal for sex you've ever heard but it's cute how he's trying to not show how badly he wants it again.

Hotarubi

🪭 Subaru 🪭

Delicious dichotomy man. Oh he's a fun character to pick apart. Concerning but still draws you in. There's so many variables... so many different interpretations... I digress there's so many ways I could write this one. But here we go!

Instantly flustered, covering his mouth and glancing away. Stammering nervously about how improper that would be. Secretly he's thrilled to bits that you've asked him such a thing. If he's getting hard under the tea table there's no outward proof on his perfectly tuned face. If you're to the point where you can see past it just tell him to think on it and you'll be back another day.

You defintely need to ask Zenji and Haku to clear out. Zenji because he could just wander in and Haku... I don't put voyeurism past him. Man's a bit depraved ya know. Anyway once that's taken care of find Subaru waiting in the secluded tea room for you. You've been talking over text about this because it gave Subaru the confidence (cough cough the freedom to openly grin and giggle like a sicko /affectionate cough cough) and agree.

He's waiting in a beautiful white kimono with pastel hydrangea patterns, something gorgeous and innocent looking. What's underneath is anything but, he's only wearing a cock ring that's made to mimic a strand of pearls. As he slowly leans back and unties the kimono to show you his little ensemble his blushing face is cracking a bit. He's too into it already, his mask is crumbling enough to show the curve of a grin on his lips.

Devour him. Absolutely debauch this man, leave hickies all down his neck and collarbones. He'll get to see all the flithy things you want to do with him as soon as he so much as grazes your skin. Gasping and letting out pretty breathy sounds as you work your hand on his equally pretty cock. But that's not what you're here for right now. No it's lower, you'll find he's already slick with lube and stretched quite well. Purr into his ear about how good he is or how dirty he is and he'll whine. He likes praise but also being degraded a bit? Pervert.

Take him against the tatami or the wall, hell bend him over the tea table. Subaru is into it, feeling you rut into him like you've never been this turned on before. Mark him up with your hands, your mouth, dig your nails into his hips and listen to him moan like a whore. He needs the reminders for later when he's alone again. Not that he'll be forgetting this anytime soon but tangible marks are hotter.

Cries out like he's singing when you finally remove the cock ring and let him cum. It's an angelic sound but you know he's not even close. He is definitely in need of a rest after that fucking. Laze about on the tatami with him. He'll try to recover soon and bring you tea and snacks. Keyword try. You'll probably need to be the one to get the refreshments. His hips are sore and he's half hard already from the way his hole aches.

This guy is fiending for it immediately. Obssessed with your strap game. Expect to be seeing a lot of the Subaru behind the mask. He needs you to ruin him more and more. Please mistress?

📿 Haku 📿

Ohohoho I've been waiting to get to him. Pervert. Fucking degenerate. Slut. He's perfect. He's a disaster. Can he keep it in his pants? Do we want him to? He will 100% flip it on you the second you bring it up. Pegging? Oh princess you like a little give and take? Color him intrigued. If you need pointers on the technique he can give you a lesson on the best ways to thrust your hips. Oh but you would be on the receiving end of that. Hopefully that still works to teach you?

Give him a day or two to get himself ready, he's teasing you the whole time though. Texting you about how much work this is for you but he doesn't mind if you promise you'll take good care of him. Might send you a pic of some of his own personal toy collection asking which one you want to use on him. I will not lie some of them are fairly large. And a few of them are less than human... Haku why do you have a knotted dildo... Whore.

Last text and pic you get before you see him is him tugging his uniform shirt to the side to show off a peek of red rope with this, "ready when you are princess" When you get your hands on him, oooooh boy! That tease is in for it. Rip that shirt right off of him and admire the beautiful intricate ropework he managed to tie himself into. Nothing that would restrict him from moving but it's very fashion statement the way it's done.

Kiss him hard, bruise, bite and suck on his bottom lip until he's holding himself back from humping your thigh. Steal his breath away by marking him up around the ropes, tease and bite his nipples. (headcanon that he has them pierced) He moans so much when you tug the bars between your teeth. He's a bit of a masochist.

Another one who's plugged and ready for you. His plug is a bit longer though, one with the tapered spheres. He shivers as you slowly remove the toy and berate him for taking away the joy of working him open yourself. He chuckles and says next time he'll let you have the honor. Oh he isn't ready for how hard you decide to fuck him. Put the first dildo you like the looks of in the harness and go to town on his ass. He's loud, so fucking loud you need to shove your fingers in his mouth to quiet him. Haku sucks on your fingers like it's a cock, laving his tongue all over them. Tease.

You can fuck him however you want. He takes it like a champ and archs his back like a professional whore. When he cums it's not a lot, probably due to the rope that winds around the base of his cock and balls but it's just enough to keep him partially hard. It's multiple rounds for sure. Wreck him.

Aftercare is bringing him out of sub space and untying the rope. There's so many marks from it you're going to be rubbing ointment into his red skin for a while. He's defintely not letting you use it on any hickies or bites you left. He wants those as trophies for surviving the devouring princess. You swat his ass for the remark and watch his body shiver... Oh he's doomed, the look on his face tells you he knows it and you grin.

Regular texts from him asking you to come mess him up. Always ready when you arrive. Maybe you should start calling him princess...

📜 Zenji 📜

King of poetry, feminism and big dick energy. Yes I'm using the usual cop out of he's corporeal sorry I am not trying to figure out how to peg a ghost today that's more mental skill than I have right now. This guy is yours for the taking doll. Pegging has been around a long time and he's no stranger to the term. He will admit he's not really thought about it being done to him though he's willing to give it a try for you.

Benefits of ghosthood: No need to do any cleaning of the self! Downside of ghosthood with Zenji: He still has a schedule to keep for his writing and his videos. Who'd have thought he would be this active beyond the grave? You'll have to give him a time to get down so it doesn't conflict with his creative flow. I mean other than that he's free whenever you are.

Heading back to the secluded tea house because his dear little brother doll can't hear this! He's waiting there with a pen and paper, dropping everything when you show up to do his usual exuberant greeting. Despite knowing what's happening he's oozing confidence. You had hoped to see him a little nervous but he's so happy to please you it doesn't phase him. As soon as you start undressing he just poofs his clothes gone. Ghost powers are so annoyingly convenient. And wow the big dick energy was not wrong.

You'll be lazily touching and kissing on the floor for a while. Long drawn out foreplay is the only way Zenji likes to do it. It should be sensual and loving. Slow handjobs and his fingers playing with you. Wait don't get swept up in his easy loving, you have something to do here.

Minimal stretching required to be honest, probably ghost stuff. But he's singing your praises the whole time, telling you how that felt good, higher, a little bit to the right, no dear his right. Tells you how beautiful you look as you put on your harness and push into him, it definitely makes him groan halfway through his words. Pulling you impossibly closer as you slowly rock into him.

He thinks you look dashing like this, taking control, using him in a way he didn't think of. Kissing and touching you the entire time. You guys aren't going fast until you get closer. Then he starts to make noise instead of running his pretty mouth. Moaning, whining, that lovely voice of his is low and melodic. Damn you might cum without needing to touch yourself if he keeps singing for you like this.

When he comes it's loud and he's clinging to you like a lifeline. So many kisses and so much babbling about how beautiful you are and how much he loves you. God he's so sweet. He's also immediately onboard to get you off. Which doesn't take long for him and those skilled fingers and that crooning voice begging you to tip over the edge. This man is dangerous with a capital D.

Expect to be lounging around with him after the fact for a while, lazy kisses and dozing off to the sound of the rain while he grabs his pen and paper to begin writing with his new found inspiration. You'll be doing this again for sure.

Obscuary

⚰️ Edward ⚰️

Damn this man, he's a mess. Literally. This guy is a pain to deal with normally but this is gonna be a whole other story. He's gonna throw out a bunch of bullshit the second you approach him about it. What are you talking about, love? He's old you have to spell it out for him. Hmm? You know staking is supposed to be to the heart right? He's infuriating, just tell him to be ready next time you show up.

That said you should give Rui and Lyca a heads up to clear out for the night. Rui might be clenching his fists but he's dragging Lyca away for you, he gets it. Lyca not so much. It's okay, Rui has your back. You should have the whole dorm to yourselves for the night.

When you arrive he's where he always is. Laying in bed with his laptop. Fuck that thing. You pause that video and shut it. He looks sad for a split second before you descend upon him and kiss his stupid pretty face. He hums into your kisses, caressing your neck as he pulls your body over his own. You'll get lost in the process of undressing him and yourself with all the heady kisses. Why is this guy a vampire and not an incubus?

Apparently because of his diet he doesn't need to clean himself either. But the prep and stretching is harder. You know, lack of blood makes the body work less than optimal. Sorry not sorry, you're going to be working his ass open for a while. The whole time he's staring into your soul or nipping at your ear. Husky voice whispering sugary words. Asking if he can have just a taste of your blood. Not tonight Satan.

Man's not a pillow prince. He's a whole pillow king. You will be doing all the work. Which is fine. You expected this. I mean look at who you're fucking. You knew. Speaking of he lets you hear his moans openly and without any hint of embarrassment. Fucking into him slow and steady has every little breath ending with a gasp or a groan. His voice sounds so much better when it's just crying out for you.

You could probably try to change position but he prefers seeing your face. He would make it impossible to move his body if you did anything he didn't want to do. His only movements look choreographed to be honest. Like he could star in a triple A budget porn film the way he sounds and rolls his body. The years of experience do him well.

When he cums it's very little, liquid is too precious for them to waste there. He's biting you, you're going to kill him... as soon as your body stops cumming. As you try to yell he quiets you and tells you he isn't turning you, he just needed to top up what he lost in your little tryst. Unless you wanted to be like him. He could arrange that. Smack him wherever you see fit he's just going to laugh.

He'll send you emoji filled texts later about how he would love to have you on top of him again soon. Don't keep him waiting too long dear. He's an old man remember?

🧤 Rui 🧤

Oh Rui, sweet darling Rui. (As per one of my theories this will reflect the idea that the kyklos is strong enough to repel or nullify other curses (ie. oui c'est bon) and thusforth Rui can touch us without his curse affecting us.) This man is king of being touch starved. One of the top three for sure. He's already elated and just so grateful he can even hug us at this point. Hand holding? Smooches? This is his dream come true. Sure it only works on us but right now that's enough for him. A break from having to be guarded at all times. Being touched by someone is something he's missed so so so bad.

Turn the tables when you breach this topic, he'll blush if you hook your finger into the ring shaped pendant he usually wears and tug him close. A bit startled by you asking for sure, he didn't think you'd be into that. No he's not saying he won't do it. Just surprised. His favorite girl is naughtier than he thought. Give him a night and he'll get everything ready for you. Do you have the supplies? Does he need to bring something? Just ask!

Next time you see him he's opted to come to you. He used to be in Clementia after all, the cathedral is his old haunt. Plays it so cool the whole time but he's practically vibrating with excitement. Has an overnight bag and everything. Uses your bathroom to freshen up before he joins you on the bed and falls into making out as easy as breathing.

God he missed kissing. But you make it better. Drawing gasps and grunts from him when you palm his body through the four layers he wears. Stripping him feels like opening a matryoska. But he looks so handsome shirtless, and slightly out of place. You can see he's not used to it anymore. Wearing all those layers has made him a bit shy without them. Worship his chest and remind him that he's gorgeous. Oh his nipples are sensitive. 100% moaning so loud when you suck on them.

By the time you get him undressed he's completely red and panting, cock hard and throbbing, leaning towards his stomach with how aroused he is. It's been a while okay? Give him a break. And break him. Make him sob with pleasure as you finger his loosened hole and watch him thrust his hips against you. Damn you might get him to cum with just your fingers at the rate he's going.

Watches you with loving eyes as you get your strap on and cage him in with your arms. He cums as soon as you put it in. When you try pulling out he stops you with a grip on both wrists. You can't be satisfied yet right? Come on. Keep going. Fuck him like you mean it. His dirty mouth earns him a rough thrust and he throws his head back with a moan.

He asked for it so he has to deal with it. Fucking him into full blown overstim mode, tears at the corners of his eyes as he whimpers and wails for more even though he's cum once already. You'll get at least three out of him. He's a flustered red mess by the third one but he's nothing if not a pleaser. Grabs you by the hips, despite his shaky hands, tugs off your harness and makes you sit on his face. He's gasping for air still as he eats you out in a dizzy haze. Might try to get multiple out of you too.

Once you're both satisfied he's thanking you in a low, almost reverent tone like you're his goddess who bestowed blessings upon him. Remind him with kisses and cuddles that you're not doing this for him, but because you want him too. He'll be on speed dial any time you wanna do this again. And he's down for anything so don't be afraid to tie him up or dress him up or spank him. He's down bad y'all he will thank you for literally ANYTHING you do to him.

🌕 Lyca 🌕

Prepare for the confusion first and foremost. Super eager to learn what it is that you want. When you explain he looks like a dog with its' hackles raised. Wide eyes, ears and tail out, going back and forth between turning red and going pale in the face. Gaping like a fish, the whole nine yards. Man is shooketh. Home boy out here calling this an affront against nature. Can't even stop himself from saying that won't make babies.

You will need to damage control, if he goes to Subaru you will never live this down. If he goes to Rui you'll absolutely never live it down for a whole other reason. So time to soothe the beast and hunker down in your room with some library books and get to teaching him that sex isn't just for reproduction. This will be several sessions and weeks after first confrontation before he finally warms up to the idea.

If he weren't such an I'm tough and fuzzy type of guy he'd be a shaking leaf in your room once it's time. Speaking of you had to walk him through clean up and prep so he's already a little frazzled from that. Be extra gentle with him. Start soft and kiss him sweetly. His tail is wagging... don't call attention to it or he'll pout.

Once you've got him comfortable again you can take the plunge into stretching him. He whimpers, whimperer supreme over here. Bluntly tells you it feels like a sh- Lyca shh! That's not appropriate for sexy time. He's going to hide his face as much as possible.

Getting your gear on is where you see him second guessing again. Take a short break to remind him that it's okay. You just wanna try this. If he doesn't like it then you'll stop. He loves that about you. That you take his feelings into consideration. Cuddle for a bit before you get back into it.

He will lift his hips and wiggle them when you ask if it's okay to fuck him now. It's not fair how cute it looks with his tail wagging but how sexy it is with the way his cock sways. Sliding in has him shivering, give him a minute to figure out how he feels. It'll surprise you when he starts grinding back and panting, gruffly begging you to move.

Fuck him slow but hard and you'll have a tamed werewolf boy in no time. When he realizes he's making all these noises he's going to bite your pillow. I'm sorry say goodbye to that one it's done for. If he can't get a hold of a pillow or your sheets he's going to bite his lips bloody. Closer to him cumming you're going to notice his tongue hanging out and cries of your name. It's so cute, you'll have to pamper him after he comes down.

Pet his hair and tell him what a good boy he was. He's stealing your blankets and pouting for a bit. Bring him a snack and some water and then he'll beg for cuddles. Kiss his nose and tell him how proud you are of him. Try not to spit your drink out when Rui mentions how interesting Lyca's new full moon strategy of having you hold him down all night is...

Mortkranken

💉 Yuri 💉

Yessssss I have been waiting for this little brat. (/loving) He's soooo... pathetic wet cat, but also very holier than thou. This is an interesting flavor of tsundere that is a personal favorite of mine. So diving right in. Screeching. Instant halt to everything he's doing and screeching about wh-wh-wh-wh-what are you saying?!?!?!?!?!? Are you insane?!?! How dare you even think about doing such a thing with him!!!! He's so red it makes his hair look florescent. Remind your brilliant doctor that it's not that far from a prostate exam and that he shouldn't neglect his own health. Get out of his lab you worm! -Screamed with all the command of a tiny angry kitten.

Guess who texts you later in the day with a time and day and haughty tone to his words? One Dr. Isami of course. It might not be until later in the week but you have it. He is a very busy man after all. Take the opportunity to plan how to take him apart.

The night comes sooner than you expected and you get treated to a very special house call. He's red in the face before you even let him in the door. Drag him in by the tie and push him onto your soft clean bed. He'll sputter and try to argue until you drop into his lap and start attacking his lips and jaw and ears and neck. He gets overwhelmed by the frantic pace and babbles between kisses. It's easy to tell that he's already hard just from that.

Strip him down and watch the blush go down to his chest, the shivering nervous wreck of a man before you is the total opposite of his usual self assured persona. Praise him for how pretty he looks, trying to hide his erection with his hands. Push those away before you get tempted to tie them up.

Slipping into your harness and putting the strap on into it you see his eyes follow your every move. Fear and something much hotter hiding in those teal eyes. Don't expect high energy positions from him. You do have to take the lead here or nothing will happen. Man handle him into whatever position you want and work yourself into him. He's gasping and grabbing your shoulders, pulling you close as he bites his lip.

Please kiss him a lot while he adjusts to the intrusion. Distract him and mark his collarbone with your teeth and tongue. He'll be halfway to drooling before you even fuck him. And when you do oh boy. Breathy little noises are being punched out of him with every thrust, he refuses to let you move away, his body curled around yours desperately.

Yuri will be crying, full on sobs. You know it's not pain so you just need to keep fucking him until he pops. He's loud loud, man is moaning and crying and gasping when he cums like it's the most earth shattering orgasm he's ever had. It probably is actually, his toes are curled and everything. Exhausted, he is not gonna be able to help you. But that's okay. If anything you know he'll be getting a solid night's sleep now. Tuck him into your bed with you and hold him close until morning.

Don't worry about the schedule you get after a week, giving you days and times to meet him, calculated perfectly for an optimized amount of sleep for him. (He needs you to ruin his pretty hole again he just won't admit it) ❤️

🩻 Jiro 🩻

MY MAIN MAN!!! Woo!!! (also finish line in sight aaaaaa) Lanky tin man ass. Love him so much. Now it's so simple with Jiro. He clearly thinks about it for a minute before agreeing. But you have to get Yuri to allow you to steal his vice captain for a night. His medication has to be taken around whatever plans you're trying to make. The last thing you need is to call Yuri over in the middle of it because of a flare up in his condition.

Talk to Yuri later, it's suspiciously easy to get him to lend you Jiro. He also seems to be avoiding direct eye contact. Jiro said something he didn't need to you're sure of it. Anyway, your plans are made and it's time to get to it.

Jiro is a medical professional. He cleaned and prepped himself thoroughly, and if asked he will tell you with all the technical terms included. You think you see a slight smirk as he watches the look on your face change into slight disturbance. When you get him to the bed it's easy to push him down. Undress him yourself unless you want it to take forever. Take special care of his glasses as you set them aside. He'll comment that it's hard to see like this. It's okay, you have him.

Trace his scars and kiss them as you go, he'll shiver and ask you why you think that's necessary. Hush Jiro, it's foreplay and you're hot. Grunts a lot as you continue worshipping his body and stealing his oxygen with your kisses. He wonders when you'll get on with it. Alright you pushy fiend. Time to strap on and strap in.

As soon as you push in he's got an arm around you, keeping you close enough to kiss. With how tall he is it means you've got his legs pushed up, hopefully his body can handle it for a bit. It can, and he isn't about to let you go. Grunts and lets out hot little breathy noises more than anything. If he didn't rock back against you you'd be unsure if he was actually enjoying this or not. Oh trust he's into it. He doesn't really like being in control so this is perfect for him.

That being said he won't do nothing and let you have all the fun. He's still trying to keep kissing you and tugging you down to nip at your lips. Seems like fucking him has made him more outwardly affectionate. He'll probably tell you that it was some hormonal state later. Whatever you say beautiful. Just keep moaning for me.

Jerk him off in time to your hips and you'll have him cumming in no time. His o-face is so pretty you'll want to see it again and again. But not something you're able to do right now. As you go to clean him up he'll exhert some energy you didn't know he had to pull you in and finger you until you cum. Those long fingers are so dexterous and he knows all the spots he needs to hit.

And now you're trapped in the bear hug. Post coital Jiro wants one thing and one thing only and that's skin to skin contact with you. When you wake up he's gone back to Mortkranken for his medicine but he sent you a text about how he enjoyed it and Yuri says his vitals are looking nice this morning. So you'll have to run this experiment again soon to see if these results are related or not. You just know he had that little smile on his face when he constructed that excuse to get you to rail him again.

---

PS pouring one out for @kykloss who inspired me to finish this but deactivated a few days ago, you would have loved this shit my dear.

[diamond-champagne]

Point of View

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

In which sometimes you need someone else's POV

Part II

It's like you got superpowers

Turn my minutes into hours

Paige is struggling

She’s tired from the lack of sleep, sore from practice, and stressed from school. Paige isn’t necessarily sure when she started to feel like everything was too much but everyday she feels herself giving way to the pressure and expectations that she and others place on her. 

The blonde isn’t sure when it all got to be so hard. It wasn’t always this difficult but somewhere between studying on planes and not getting enough sleep something in her had snapped. 

It was like those huge buckets at the waterpark that slowly filled with water and on a set interval turned to drench all the little ones with water. Except there was nothing playful or even exciting about how Paige was feeling. She was simply just waiting to tilt over; to let it all out. And when everything became too much and she spilled over, Paige would adjust herself and keep it moving because she doesn’t have time to dwell in it; whatever it is. Not when there’s workouts to be had, homework to do, and events to attend. 

So, Paige pushed through despite how much she didn’t want to. She pushed through practice, studying, and she’s pushing through the group outing at Ted’s. The blonde doesn’t want to go but she doesn’t want to miss out on what could possibly be her favorite moments with her favorite people. The basketball player also doesn’t want anyone to think less of her or know she’s anything less than 100 percent. 

It takes damn near all of her energy but she manages. Cue fake laughter here and a small joke there. Insert a smirk there and faux interest here. Every movement planned and placated specifically to not raise any eyebrows. 

But then Azzi arrives and suddenly Paige isn’t acting anymore because her laugh is real and the banter is effortless. Her smirk is natural and she hangs onto every word that Azzi says because she wants to memorize her voice for years to come. Slowly but surely the dark cloud that has been a permanent fixture over Paige has evaporated and the body that used to lag with exhaustion is now buzzing with energy.

The best friends have only been engaging in conversation for a few minutes but Paige swears that Azzi has been fighting off the looming darkness for a lifetime. 

You got more than 20-20, babe

Made of glass the way you see through me

You know me better than I do

Can't seem to keep nothing from you

Maybe Azzi has been fighting off the dark cloud that seems to follow Paige. It seems to be the case when she shows up at the older girl’s apartment one day to demand answers. 

Paige doesn’t immediately give in though, wanting to not bother her best friend with her own battles. Her not being able to swim does not mean Azzi is to drown.

“What are you talking about?” Paige asks. The blonde thinks she might have gotten too good at lying because the way her voice goes up a pitch and her head cocks to the side is so natural to her, she almost believes that she doesn’t know what Azzis is really asking her. Almost.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Bueckers.” Azzi growls. The use of her last name makes Paige flinch and that makes Azzi soften. The curly-haired girl is simply tugging on the tether that keeps them connected and afloat. The last thing she wants to do is push them further away. So despite the frustration that flows through her veins, she takes a deep breath before reaching for her favorite blonde-haired girl. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Azzi whispers in Paige's ear as she engulfs her in a hug. Her tone is soft like she’s trying not to scare her blue-eyed girl away. It is accompanied by a soft hand that runs from the base of her neck to the end of her back. 

Paige doesn’t know what exactly causes her to break like a cheap rubber band but suddenly she wipes one tear. And another. And another until there’s too many and her body is shaking. 

She guesses that despite not wanting her team to know, she wishes that someone did; that someone cared enough to see when she wasn’t okay.

Azzi knew. Of course she did.

How you touch my soul from the outside?

Permeate my ego and my pride

“Babe, tell me what’s wrong.” Azzi gently demands of her best friend. The words acted as a key for a lock that Paige didn’t know existed because suddenly she can’t stop talking. 

She’s going on and on about her classes and then work and the team. How everything is too much. How it’s all pulling her in different directions. How she feels the need to be everything to everyone and nothing to herself. Is she allowed to not want everything she’s worked so hard for? Is she allowed to breathe?

When she’s done, the boulder that has situated itself on Paige’s chest is gone but it’s pain is still prevalent. Her vision is blurry and spotty. Her voice feels so far away as if she’s not in her own body. Her ears are hot and her heartbeat is loudly beating through them. 

Paige is spiraling but well maybe not. 

Because soon, Azzi’s voice is in her ear telling her to match her breathing and Paige feels a cold hand over her heart before those same hands are pulling her closer.

“Babe, why didn’t you tell me?” The question rings on the blonde’s ears but she can’t answer because Azzi has tears running down her face and the sight is devastating to Paige. 

“Don’t cry” the blonde whispers as she reaches to wipe the stray tears from her Azzi’s face. The action causes the younger girl to chuckle because how is it that the most caring person she knows is experiencing so much pain.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to be a burden. I also didn’t want the team to think I wasn’t 100 percent. It’s been tough since my injury and the last thing I need is for people to doubt me again because I can’t handle a little pressure.”

“Look at me.” Azzi commands. She waits until her favorite pair of blue eyes meet hers before continuing. “You could never be a burden, P. No one worth listening to would ever doubt you for your internal struggles. It’s shitty, yes but this does not define who you are.”

Paige nods a little before leaning in to hug her best friend once more before settling herself on Azzi’s chest.

“You don’t have to be 100 percent to be loved, Paige. I love you through it all.”

“I love you too”

[haddonfieldwhore]

tonight - adam faulkner-stanheight

adam faulkner-stanheight x gn!reader

summary: you get evicted and have nowhere to go but your ex boyfriends apartment.

warnings: HUGE plot hole tbh… you just have to come up with how adam got out of the trap on your own, language, angst, blood mentioned gender neutral but reader is mentioned to be wearing eyeliner, i did not edit this 🫢

word count: 1.5k

you wrapped your arms around yourself as you shoved clothes in a bag, the heat having been shut off to your apartment days ago. you were three months behind on rent, and your landlord had never been a patient man. the second he found someone who was willing to give a deposit, he had taped the eviction notice to your door; that was this morning. you had discovered it upon returning home from work, leaving you only 6 hours to pack up your entire life and get the fuck out.

it was a pitiful apartment; it was drafty and the faucet squeaked, and the shower had next to no water pressure- and you still could barely afford it. you didn’t have many belongings to move out, and considering you did have the time or money to hire movers, you supposed you would be leaving your furniture here; it wasn’t worth anything anyway.

you stuffed the last of your clothes into your backpack and grabbed the essentials from your bathroom cabinet, leaving behind anything you could bare to part with.

you honestly weren’t too considered with your belongings at the moment - not that any of the things you were abandoning were prized possessions. you were more concerned with where you would sleep; where you would live.

you considered calling your one coworker that you tolerated, but you knew she had family in town and didn’t want to add on the the workload she already had of hosting multiple guests.

which only left you with one option.

adam.

adam who at this time last year, would have thought nothing of you sleeping at his apartment - you practically lived there. but things went south between you and your ex boyfriend, and your relationship had more or less imploded. you hadn’t talked to him since the night you had screamed at him that you never wanted to see him again, and now here you were, outside his door at 1 am, soaking wet and near freezing from the pouring rain. you would have called, but in the whirlwind of getting kicked out of your home, your cell had died and you were pretty sure you’d left the charger behind.

you mind ran through every possible reaction adam could have to you showing up at his apartment, and you weren’t sure you liked any of them.

somehow you didn’t consider him not answering the door at all. you knew he wasn’t asleep, he never was at this time. it was possible he was in his dark room, headphones on blaring some moody rock song you’d always pretended to hate. you kicked at the weathered carpet of the dirty hallway, hoping none of his neighbours came out to see what the noise was.

adam’s apartment building was barely better than yours, and you’d prefer not to encounter any of the locals if you could help it.

you knocked one more time, not really having another option, but again there was no answer. you fiddled anxiously with your lanyard of keys that jingled around your neck, and then your hand landed on one you hadn’t used in a while.

after one last unanswered tap on the door, you inserted the key into the lock and twisted it with a click, and turned the knob.

you hoped it wasn’t considered breaking and entering if you had a key.

there were no lights on, which wasn’t entirely unusual for adam, and you had grown to be able to maneuver around blindly through the apartment, and you found he hadn’t moved anything as you walked the same route to the lamp in the living room as you had a thousand time. the dusty lamp next to the couch illuminated the room only slightly, but enough to show you that adam’s keys and shoes weren’t by the door, telling you that he wasn’t home.

you were alone.

everything began to sink in all at once, and you took a deep breath, the familiar scent of adams cologne lingering in the filling your nose.

rather than sink down onto the couch in your dripping wet clothes, you opted for a quick shower, the hot water mixing with a few tears that trailed in black streaks of eyeline down your face, smudging beneath your eyes.

adam would always wipe it off with his thumbs with a smile and ask ask why you hadn’t taken it off before getting in.

you wrapped a towel from the hall closet around your body and grabbed some clothes from your bag, throwing on a t shirt and some shorts before curling up on the worn out couch in the (barely big enough to be a) living room. you had almost officially moved in with adam before things ended, and you wondered what your life might look like now if you had.

at one point you thought you and adam might be married by now. he had thought about it too; hell, he had even looked at rings once or twice, but couldn’t afford one.

but that was before, and this was now.

now, was reality setting in that you were homeless, and sitting in someone else’s apartment, waiting for them to get home from who knows where, with no idea how he would react. things had ended ugly between you and adam, but deep down you realized that even after months apart, you missed him. you were both young, and life got stressful and you pushed eachother away. it wasn’t that either of you had royally fucked anything up, things just bubbled over until you both had taken it out on eachother.

your found yourself shivering from the change in temperature from the steamy bathroom to the more open living room, you pulled a blanket off the arm of the couch and draped it over yourself, fighting to stay awake.

you lost the battle, comforted by the familiar sounds and smells of adam’s apartment, and drifted off to sleep.

adam was in such a panicked state when he arrived back at his apartment, he hadn’t noticed the soft light coming from under the door. he hadn’t noticed that it was unlocked either, thinking nothing of it as he stumbled inside, though he made sure as hell to lock it behind him. he was so out of it, he didnt even notice the extra pair of sneakers next to him as he kicked off his shoes, his keys nearly landing in them as he let them slip out of his hands.

adam took a deep breath, running his hands over his face as he tried to wrap his head around what had happened.

that room….

the blood…

it didn’t matter. he had escaped.

he had won.

that’s what mattered.

he walked straight past you with no notice and went to the kitchen, scrubbing his hands under the sink with nearly half the bottle of dish soap before he felt even remotely clean. he splashed cold water onto his face, before wiping his eyes, letting them adjust to the light again for a second before his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion at the sight of your sleeping form on the couch.

was he dreaming? was he still chained up in that bathroom, hallucinating that he’d escaped and that you were here?

he walked forwards cautiously, as if the floor would collapse beneath him if he stepped to hard, but reached the couch with no difficulty. you stirred awake at the sound of the floor creaking, and your eyes fluttered open to look up at adam.

“hey.. fuck, i’m really sorry, i had no where else to go and i still had your key and-“ you stopped with a soft grunt as he sat down next to you and threw his arms around you, holding you so tight you could barely breathe.

adam buried his head in the crook of your neck, and you hummed in content as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him against you as you leaned against the armrest of the couch.

“it’s okay. i’m actually really fucking glad you’re here,” he mumbled.

“adam are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” you looked down at his white t-shirt that was stained with dirt and… ”is that blood?”

“i - maybe. i don’t know. it’s not mine i don’t think,” he stuttered, sitting up slightly to look at you. “some fucking psycho kidnapped me and -“ he sighed “it doesn’t matter. just… don’t let me go okay? i’m really happy to see you.”

your fingers laced through the back of his hair and tucked him into your shoulder again, a worried look on your face.

“i missed you, adam,” you admitted, and you meant it.

“god, i missed you too.”

in that moment adam needed you more than anything; a familiar face, someone that he felt safe with.

you didn’t know what he’d been through, and you would let him tell you when he was ready, but for now, you held him close as he clung to your body like a life raft.

and you would be there as long as he needed you.

because you needed him too.

[perfectsoyeggz]

"Ticking" Unfinished Harleith Fic CW// SUGGESTIVE

(warning some parts do jump around, so may be confusing to read lol)

Everything can make sense if you look at it from the right angle. Even the most difficult of problems have their solutions, it takes time, work, and effort, but nothing is impossible to figure out.

Except for Leith Pierre. The image of innovation, a man of business, structure, and power. Harley just couldn't begin to understand what went on inside of his head. What drove him to make him do the things he does. What made the man go out of his way to disrespect Elliot Ludwig himself by bringing him back to the company; or why the man always went out of his way to bother him during his work. He was constsntly asking redundant questions when he could easily just read the reports that were sent to Pierre's very office every day at *his* request.

It irked Harley, put simply. He wished he could do nothing more than strap the businessman to one of his very own operating tables and look at every crevis and ridge of his brain. Smooth gloved hands carressing the man's skin while a scapel glides down his body and dices him up. The thought was certainly enticing, it always sent a pleasent shiver down his spine.

He just had never met a man with such vigor and confidence, a man who always got what he wanted. A man who desired *progress* in a way he shared; They were similar in that regard, two men who needed to see their goals be accomplished in any means possible.

Though the way Leith went about things just didn't make sense to Harley. Why float around topics with chit chat when Pierre could enforce anything he wanted. Elaborate talk was useless, and somehow Leith always had time to talk to Dr. Sawyer.

[Ugh insert here 💔]

He had no need to come to his office that evening before Harley went home.

Harley has just gotten his things put away when Leith had strolled in without knocking, not saying a word. Confused, Harley questioned to himself why the man had come in so late, after all, testing had concluded that day.

"Hm. I must take notice at the ill time you've chosen to come in here Mr. Pierre." He eyed up at the bright colorful clock, the time clearly displayed 11:03 P.M.

"I just want to talk. Is that a crime Sawyer?" The younger man mused, walzting his way around the desk. Leith leaned casually against Harley's desk, his face slightly cringing as some papers scattered in the process.

Harley scowled, annoyance laced in his tone,

"It is when I was just headed for the door. Can this wait for Monday Mr. Pierre?" Harley began to grab for the papers, grumbling as he tried to neatly stack them back together.

"Leith. Just call me Leith, you've been here for 2 months now, cut it with the formalities man!" He flashed a warm smile at the scientist, before piping in, "but no, no it cant."

Harley had no clue what could be so important it had to be discussed at this very moment, but as strange as the time was, the claim seemed innocent enough. If Leith Pierre wanted to talk, he was going to get his way regardless, and he'd rather not be pestered all the way to his car. Besides, it's not like he had a spouse waiting back at home for him.

The two simply began to talk, at first about work, Leith had mentioned a new idea for BBI, and Harley listened, taking a few notes here and there if whatever Leith babbled about sounded important enough. Despite all the talk though, Harley could tell Leith wanted to tell him something else. He had a motive for coming in here, and he wasnt believing he only came in here to discuss BBI. Everyone had to have a reason for what they do, some merely try to hide it, but manage poorly at keeping it a secret.

The way Leith behaved, it was off. The lack of eye contact was a waving giveaway that something was up. The normally confident man had a stumble in his tone, while not obvious, Harley had plently of time to study the man's behavior; and he could see put simply, something was up.

Leith was in the middle of mentioning something about Eddie when Harley suddenly piped up.

"Alright Leith, I'm not sure what the hell is up with you but spit it out. Do you really think I don't notice?"

For once, Leith was quiet for a moment. Harley's brows furrowed, this was *especially* unusual. Leith was quick with his words, not careless persay, but he always knew two words ahead of what he was going to say next.

So when Leith had chosen not to say anything; instead pushing the scientist against his own desk, putting his arms around his sides, *kissing him.* The man's motives became all the more murkey to him. However, what surprised him the most wasn't the kiss. Harley Sawyer may have gotten kissed by Leith Pierre, but he kissed him back.

No words were exchanged between the two, both silently agreeing to let this play out a little longer. Despite his initial surpise-- Harley leaned into the kiss more than he should've. The two made quick work of each other, a frenzy of hands desperate to touch any and everything at their disposal. Coats getting shoved to the floor, shaking hands sloppily undoing shirt buttons while their mouths synced in harmony.

Once their shirts had been discarded to the floor, the two were in a frenzy, hot bare bodies pressed up against each other, desperate for any kind of touch or feeling. Open mouths with teeth clashing against each other as tongues filled the others mouth; It was *ravishing.* A hunger burned inside of Harley, a feeling he hadn't felt in years at this point. Countless times he had found himself dissatisfied with most partners he ever rarely entertained; Those that did? They never lasted long. To simply put, they couldn't handle him.

But Leith? He was handling Harley in *all* the right places.

Leith's firm hands cupped Harley's chest, taking in every bump and imperfection that graced the scientist's skin. He gazed down at the panting man below him, taking a minute to let him breathe. Leith didn't say anything, but there was something about the way he looked at him. His gaze didn't seem all there, as if he was thinking about something else while staring at his chest.

Harley couldn't stand the way he was looking at him. It made him feel... conflicted.

In the midst of everything, Suddenly things started to make sense to Harley. The constant supervision, the questions, the sudden late night visit with no supervision. Leith Pierre wanted Harley wrapped around his finger, and he was certain to get it.

Leith pulled down Harley's collar, allowing himself access to his collarbone. He sunk his teeth in, sucking on the soft pale skin. His thumbs gently grazed over Harley's nipples, a soft grunt forcing its way out of his mouth in the process. Leith started circling the hard buds, dedicated to drawing out every noise he could from Sawyer.

"You- *hah-* I never, never would've thought Leith Pierre would be the one to.." He trailed off, uncertainty in his gaze as he tried to think of any coherent words, "er, participate in this sort of thing. With a man at least."

Pierre only hummed in response, his fingers still working with Harley's nips while suckling a new bruise on Harley's neck. The scientist winced at the sensation, but grew into making soft moans and grunts.

[Insert something here]

However, despite not wanting the sensations to end; Harley's hands firmly gripped the man's wrists, and forcefully set them to the side. Harley pushed himself off the desk and moved Leith to the side all in one move as he strode for the door.

"Wha- hey where do you think you're going?" Leith barked, his expression completely dumbfounded by the move.

Harley simply looked back at him, a sly grin on his face as the door lock made a *click.*

The panic washed away from Leith's face almost instantly, a too audible sigh of relief coming from him. Harley couldn't help but let himself laugh a bit from the reaction.

"You didn't think I'd leave did you?" The scientist mused, a cocky smile sneaking its way into his expression. Although through his confident demeanor, unease still lingered at the back of his throat, squeezing his throat to force any words out. He'd never gotten this far with a man; not that he opposed it, but it was very new and... different.

Though, in the name of science and arousal, he wanted to find out anyway.

[Might rewrite this next part with jumping back into kissing and no extra dialog] 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Before Leith even had a chance to respond to him, Harley strode towards the bumbling man, quickly taking his tie in his grip, forcing the man to look up at him.

"Oh Leith, I've been here for months now, surely you should know by now I like to finish my work..." He tightened his grip on Leith's tie, smiling devilishly, "and my my do I have some work to do..." The scientist purred, further stirring on the man below him.

"I'm going to need to do a little testing before we proceed, understood?"

This little humiliation ritual was visually starting to get to Leith. A small part of his ego being crushed by the man standing inbetween his legs. Although, Harley couldn't deduce Leith *wasn't* into it. Some of his past partners had been into that sort of thing, which Harley always got a kick out of. He couldn't hide the small smile on his face when Leith looked up at him the way he did, it was akin to a puppy.

"How utterly *pathetic* the man of Innovation this easily brought to his knees to someone below his status? Quite intriguing I must say."

[Insert stuff here yet again]

He'd never admit to him that this was his first experience with a man. He had always wondered about it, but alas, he found it easier to exchange one night stands with women.

-----

Sorry for not finishing this gang 💔 But hope you enjoy my notes LMAO literally everything in my notes is on here

[heartbeatbookclub]

insert ask that conveniently makes you talk about sayonika here

I have a lot of thoughts about them. None are particularly structured, really...

Trust really fuckin fed us, y'all. One of the first posts on this blog is me talking all about how it illustrates the parallels between Monika and Sayori, subtle as it is about it. I think in many, many ways, they reflect one another's actions, and on an exceptionally deep level, they both understand what makes the other tick. As a consequence, they're both pretty astute when it comes to recognizing what the other needs, what problems they might be having, and a good way to help them through it. It's hard to put into words...they just get each other, y'know?

Despite that, there are some definite fundamental differences. I think the simplest way to explain it is that Monika has a constant preoccupation with being able to do something right the first time, to be able to do something perfect, while Sayori has long given up the thought that she could do anything without screwing something up, and is instead desperately focused on trying to do good enough. In that way, the both of them sort of cover the other's weaknesses.

In that sense, both of them struggle with the thought of measuring up to others' expectations, and feel this constant need to do better, coupled with this constant thought that they aren't enough. Inferiority complex is the keyword here. Both of them have some pretty clear struggles with their own self-worth...

And the benefit of having each other is invaluable, for that reason. Particularly since the two of them understand each other's struggle, they're able to find the words the other needs to hear, and when they say it, it's more trustworthy because of that understanding.

Monika vents about an issue she's having, trying to find a way to really cope with it, and Sayori's answer immediately pierces straight to the core of the problem, identifying an insecurity which Monika didn't even realize she had. She's able to lay bare what Monika feels so she can actually grasp how to deal with it.

On the flip side, Sayori can hide it all she likes, but Monika's able to see clear through that facade, and identify where Sayori is struggling. She tends to a more subtle approach, simply quietly taking some of that burden, or providing whatever affection, praise, or encouragement she thinks she needs. Without even realizing it, Sayori's feeling better already.

They've got each others' backs, through thick and thin. If Monika's lagging behind, Sayori gives her a gentle push in the right direction. If Sayori needs someone to tell her everything's going to be okay, Monika's right beside her not only telling her that, but elaborating on how things couldn't possibly be that bad, because they have each other.

To get away from more general analysis kind of stuff, I think the two of them would just naturally tend towards a very close relationship. They'd grow reliant on each other without even realizing it, each using the other for needed buffer in any social situation, and relying on each other for support in all areas.

Monika would feel incredibly awkward trying to engage in anything romantic with anyone, but I think her relationship with Sayori being so close would just feel incredibly natural, no matter how it ended up progressing. That doesn't mean that transitioning to romance wouldn't feel awkward as hell still, nor that Monika would really feel confident doing anything (Sayori's taking that lead and she's driving the horse to the end of the line), but her relationship with Sayori would be so close naturally that it wouldn't actually change very much.

Neither of them would really be able to be honest about their feelings at first. And at this critical moment, neither of them would be able to clearly identify the feelings that the other had. Both of them would be way too anxious about the fact that the other might say no, and it could ruin their entire friendship, to say anything about it for the longest time. Neither of them can imagine a life without the other.

I think Sayori might be the one to crack first. I think she'd probably get to a point where she wouldn't be able to handle all the fluttery feelings in her chest when they were this close. She couldn't do anything but be honest about her feelings, no matter how anxious it made her feel.

Monika would be taken aback but obviously reciprocate. Now unsure how to even proceed. I think Monika would be the first to say I love you tho

This might be one of the roughest parts of the base game to really deal with when you think about it for an extended period. I don't want to think about it for an extended period right now so I'm not gonna elaborate (already thinking of enough angst with other fic concepts).

[carnivorous-canine98]

Dauntless

Word count: 6437

Trigger warning: Contains both Fearplay and tooth rotting fluff, read at your own risk.

Okay soooo, this was based on a dream that I had and actually remembered for once. I decided to write this self-indulgent self-insert fic between creator and creation. Enjoy <3

And this is my longest story by far…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You are at my feet

We’re by the fire

You’re a gentle, purring beast

And I’m alive

Hunter - Paris Paloma

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My phone’s alarm blared, groaning as I reached over to silence it. I checked the time, tossing the device back onto the shitty bed. A loud “Fuck!’ flew past my lips as my joints snapped and cracked. Having back problems sucked enough, and this damn cot was not helping anything.

“Hey, pipe down… some of us are trying to sleep!” someone snapped to my left.

“Sorry, sorry,” I whispered, grabbing my phone, alongside a handful of other items.

I quickly tossed everything into my backpack, trying to leave as quietly as possible. Once the door closed, I stretched before heading down to the woman’s showers. I pulled out my phone, sighing loudly, as there was still no service here. “The only thing this damn thing is good for any more is a glorified alarm clock. At least I still have access to my music,” I grumbled.

Once I reached the showers, I took out what I needed and placed the rest back. I got undressed and put on my shower shoes. Reaching in, I turned the water on, wanting to let it warm up for a bit before getting in. I shuddered, realizing I was the only one in here.

It was quiet… too quiet.

I fucking hate the quiet.

I grabbed my phone, tapping on a random song. The unease melted away once the music hit my ears. Sighing gratefully, I stepped into the shower.

I raised my head to let the warm water run down my face. My eyes cracked open some, homesickness hitting me hard. I left everyone I loved behind for a shot in the dark. While the pay was decent for what it was, it just wasn’t worth being so damn lonely. I slumped against the shower wall, letting out a choked sob. Crying was something I very rarely did, but when enough emotions built up inside… the dam would burst. I broke down in silence, not wanting to be heard. I missed my parents, family, and my partner. Fuck, I even missed my cat.

“I could really go for a stiff drink right now,” I mumbled, wiping my eyes.

Standing back up, I finished quickly and turned the water off. I dried myself the best I could. Damn… I could also go for a good soak in a tub. Reaching into my backpack, I grabbed the day’s clothes and got dressed, making sure to put my headphones on.

Great way of tuning out the world around me for a while.

Once my boots were laced up tight, I went down to the mess hall. It was fairly busy with how early it was in the morning. Through tired eyes, I watched people grab food, eat, chat, and whatnot. I got in line, my face brightening up at what was being served.

Finally, something I’ll actually enjoy eating!

The good ol’ standard American breakfast was being served today. My mouth watered heavily as I got my plate, struggling not to bounce as I inched closer.

Most of the time, I’d only find one or two things that I could eat. Some days, I just wouldn’t eat at all. It wasn’t so much the taste as it was the texture. Sensory issues really did suck with a fixed menu.

I must've looked really stupid getting my food as the biggest, cheesiest grin was plastered on my damn face. My bouncing started to speed up when a few sausage links were given to me. Still grinning like a dumbass, I gave a happy “Thank you,” racing off to eat.

I didn’t waste any time, scarfing down every last bite. You’d think the apocalypse was coming, with how fast I stuffed everything into my face. It was a good thing I had a knack for finding the most secluded places to sit, as I would’ve likely licked the plate clean if I could.

Once I was done eating, I grabbed my phone to check the time. It seems I had about an hour before my shift started, and what better way to kill time than by reading? Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a red book with silver foil accents. The title, “Wonderland,” could be seen as clear as day. Kicking my feet back and forth, I skimmed the pages, music loudly playing in my ears.

“Oooh, a dungeon inside of a giant worm? That would be so cool to try and run,” I hummed, eyes lighting up.

I continued to read, occasionally singing softly. I was so engrossed in what I was doing that it hadn't occurred to me to keep track of the time. Once I actually remembered to check my phone, I went pale. “Shit, shit, shit,” I hissed, packing up in a hurry. I raced down the hall as fast as my body would let me. Darting into the janitorial office, I huffed and puffed as I pulled my headphones onto my neck, and then clocked in.

“Cutting it awfully close there, Lex,” came a voice from behind.

“S-Sorry sir... lost track of time,” I murmured sheepishly.

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed nonchalantly. “Well… either way, it’s your turn to clean the high wing this month.”

“The high wing? That’s where all the rich people work, right?”

“Yep…”

“Could I take my bag with me? I’ll leave it in the cart while I work…”

“Alright, just don’t let it be a distraction.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say, giving a small smile.

With no hesitation, I grabbed the biggest cart I could find, stuffing my backpack on the bottom. “Alright, I’m off,” I say with a big smile. “I’ll do my best.” Wasting no time, I took off out of the office, pausing briefly as I thought I heard the man say something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours had passed by now, leaving me to my duties. I had music blasting in my ears as usual, happily humming along. Occasionally, the urge to be goofy would come along and I’d dance or just spin in place. That damn giddy grin never left my face as I worked.

I felt good, better than good… strangely amazing.

Giving in to the temptation, I let myself dance around the room, singing loudly. No one was here besides me… who’d care if I had a bit of fun? Yes, I still cleaned as I bounced around the room. The craziness did die down some as I returned to work. I was so caught up in wiping down the big meeting table that I failed to notice the presence behind me. A loud yelp rushed out as a heavy hand touched my shoulder. Spinning around, I saw two well dressed men staring down at me. I quickly pulled my headphones down, pausing my music so I could hear.

“S-Sorry, thought this room wasn’t in use. I’ll leave,” I spluttered.

I took a few steps back, looking a bit sheepish. God, did I hate people being incredibly close to me. As I was about to leave with the cart, one of the men spoke.

“Actually, Ms. W… We’re looking for you.”

“Is something wrong? Did I do something?” I reflexively asked.

“No, nothing’s wrong; we have a job that we need you to do. It won’t take too long.”

I gave a meek nod, heading to grab the cart. “You won’t be needing that, Ms. W. Someone will be here shortly to finish what you started.”

“Can I at least get my bag from it?” I asked meekly.

The shorter of the two gave a grunt and a nod. “Hurry up, we don’t have all day,” he barked.

Something about this just felt off to me. I don’t know why, it just did. I turned off my headphones, stuffing them in my bag as I walked over to them. They motioned for me to follow behind. I swallowed hard, holding my bag close to my chest for some sense of comfort.

I was led around the high wing for a bit, soon coming to an elevator. After entering, I slinked to the back as much as the space allowed me to. A soft, meek whine came out, cradling my bag close to my chest.

Would someone say something, please? The silence is killing me…

The urge to say something was getting to the point I was just about to blurt anything. Until the taller man turned to face me, opening his mouth to speak. “Ms. W. I must ask. Are you aware of what we do here?” He asked inquisitively.

“Not particularly, no… I was offered the job by someone and went for it. Didn’t exactly go over the details.”

“Typical of the youth that gets offered anything these days,” the short man muttered.

“Masterson… please,” the other murmured. “Anyway, it may shock you to learn this is a… zoo of sorts.”

“A zoo! On this scale!” I blurt out. “This is cruise ship levels of staff, how is it possible for a place like this to even function?”

The same man chuckled at my outburst. “Well, you see,” he began. “We have quite a few wealthy benefactors that graciously donate considerably to maintain this fine establishment.”

“That’s so cool,” I breathed, eyes lightening up.

The man smiled, turning back to his partner. I started to fiddle with my bag a bit, pausing as I heard “Masterson” speak up. “Really, Smith? You do this fucking song and dance every time we put on the show,” he hissed so softly I almost missed it.

Out of the corner of my eye, Smith’s lips formed into a cruel smile. “Lighten up some; not like she’s going to remember this conversation once everything’s done…”

The elevator once again fell into silence, the two men facing away from me.

That gnawing feeling in my stomach started to grow worse by the second. What did they mean, I’m not going to remember anything? I cowered in the corner of the small space, holding my bag tightly to my chest. Another soft whimper escaped from me, the dread of what was to come eating me alive on the inside.

The soft ding of the elevator was enough to make me jump, considering how frazzled my nerves were.

“Calm down, Ms. W.” Masterson barked, his irritation clear as day. “It’s just the damn elevator…”

“S-Sorry,” I murmured, sinking back.

“We’re here, Ms. W. Please follow us,” Smith responded, back to his chipper tone from before.

The words “I don’t wanna do this,” were right on my tongue, screaming for me to shout it out. My body was begging for me to scream out, cry, anything at all, but I couldn’t. It was like I was under a trance, legs moving under someone else’s will and not my own. My eyes filled with terror as these men led me to my unknown fate.

We walked along bare, lifeless hallways for some time, soon stopping in front of a steel door. Masterson pulled a key card from his suit pocket, swiping it. Another buzzer went off, a green light flickering on above the door. I heard a soft click, Smith reached over and opening it.

“Through this door,” he smiled, the look in his eyes sending shivers down my spine. There was a strange, malicious hunger to them, like he was shoving me into the lion's den just to watch them feast. “This way please, Ms. W.” He repeated.

“W-What is it you're having me do?” I asked, desperately trying to buy some time.

“You’ll be briefed once you pass the door,” Smith replied, the smile never leaving his lips.

“I-I don’t know if I want to go through with this,” I said meekly, taking a step back.

“As if you have a choice,” Masterson’s venom coated hiss echoed behind me.

A sudden sharp pain burst from the middle of my back as I was forced past the steel frame. I landed on my side with a loud thud, a dull throb in my upper shoulder. Pushing aside the pain, I quickly scrambled to my feet, desperately trying to reach the door.

“Word of advice… lighten your fucking load,” the stout man sneered, slamming the door behind him.

I returned to the entrance, banging on the metal as loud as I could… it was utterly useless.

I was trapped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Broken sobs escaped me as I fell to my knees. I curled into a tight ball, giving in to my despair and anguish. Time moved at a crawl as my cries echoed in the chamber around me. I slowly collected myself, groaning as I got to my feet.

“Now is not the time to sit and feel fucking sorry for yourself,” I hissed quietly.

Slowly, my legs moved along to the ground in an effort to feel around, nearly tripping over my bag. A shaky sigh blew out as I bent down to pick it up. It might have been a wise idea to leave it behind, but I’m stubborn like that. My bag and I were seeing this through… whatever this may be. I held the damn thing close, treating it as if it were my child, forcing myself to walk forward. Moving a hand, I placed it along the smooth, cool walls in hopes of letting it guide me.

One step onward.

Two steps.

Three.

My breathing grew heavy as I sped up, just wanting to see anything at this point. Faster, ever so faster until I was at a full sprint. I tightly squeezed my eyes closed as I ran forward, lungs full on burning now.

I needed to breathe… just for a second.

I leaned against the wall, desperately slowing my intake of air to a normal pace. Keeping this up, I lifted my head, eyes opening slightly. Both flew open as relief started to bud inside my chest.

Light… it was faint, but it was there.

A few loose tears fell from my cheeks as I forced my sore legs to move again. “Come on, nearly fucking there,” I wheezed. I didn’t care at all at this point… I ran like my life depended on it.

The lights burned my eyes once I reached what I thought was my freedom, shielding my face. Squinting, I tried to see where I was exactly. It looked like a barren meadow, large trees planted sparsely and uprooted. Big boulders in much of the same way. The once pristine ground held deep gashes easily over ten feet deep or so.

Once my eyes adjusted to how freaking bright it was, what I saw made my blood run cold. Those same steel panels lined the whole area. I couldn’t tell how big it was here… just that I knew I couldn’t run the entirety in a day alone. Letting my eyes lead, I had to strain my neck just to see the next bit. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but if you stand just right and you could see glass lining the very top. Hell, I swore I saw figures moving around up there.

Outright dread started to boil in my gut when I perceived exactly where I was…

I wasn’t outside… It was a large underground stadium.

“Well… seems the little mouse finally decided to come out to play with me,” A smooth voice rumbled, the ground vibrating with each word.

I whirled around, but no one greeted my eyes.

“Look above you… little mouse.”

I jerked my head up, the sight before me sent me reeling back. A massive figure loomed over me, ravenous crimson eyes staring directly at me. My eyes darted around as I was coming to terms with what was before me. By the voice alone, I could tell this thing was definitely female…

She spoke again, voice dripping with hunger. “Ooo, a little mouse with some meat on her bones… I’m going to savor every part of you.”

That set things into motion.

Scrambling to my feet, I bolted. My already sore body ached as I ran, a shrill scream exiting me as a massive clawed hand trying to catch its prize. I jumped, missing those gigantic fingers by a few inches. “Come on, little mouse,” she purred. “Make this fun for me. Make it last… I don’t get one as plump as you very often.”

That rumble of hers was deafening, so fucking deafening. I clamped my hands over my ears as I ran. Everything was throwing my senses into overload… At this point I may as well experience a meltdown and get it over with. However, sheer adrenaline was the only thing keeping me going.

The thing slammed a hand beside me, fingers digging deep in the dirt. The sudden action sent me tumbling onto my side. My terrified eyes once again looked up at her massive face. From where I stood, she looked pretty human to me… despite the massive size, cat-like eyes, and double canines leering at me.

”Aww, it seems the little mouse needs a bit of a breather,” She hissed, so close I could see the saliva dripping from her fangs. “Such a shame… I was hoping to play with you for just a bit longer.”

I whimpered, trying to slide back, but was stopped by her hand blocking the way. “Who said you could leave,” she sneered. “We’re just getting started here.” Like lightning itself, she lunged forward, snapping in my direction only missing by mere feet.

I didn’t hesitate again… I ran.

“That’s it, little mouse. Run!” She thundered. “Makes it all the more appetizing when I finally do catch you!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hide… I need to hide. Catch my breath. Something, anything to throw this… this thing off of my tail.

The words were better left unspoken at this point, as I once again stopped to catch my breath. Someone in better shape would be able to keep this up for a while.

Me? Fuck no… I’m barely holding it together.

At this point, I’m just a sitting duck waiting for the predator to pounce.

“Little mouse,” her damned words rumbled everywhere. “You’re making this way too easy. Are you willingly offering yourself to me?”

Her remarks were starting to get to me…

I couldn’t take much more of this…

Shut up, Shut up…

“JUST SHUT UP!” I screamed raspily.

The giantess paused, surprise slowly melting into amusement. “Seems we don’t have a little mouse here, but we have a little stoat instead,” she purred, leisurely circling around me. We locked eyes, her predatory grin growing wider. “How about we make a deal?” She hummed, eyes narrowing.

“W-What kind of deal?” I wheezed.

“Simple really. Avoid me for as long as you can and you’ll be free to go.” She got close once again, a predacious edge to her voice as she whispered. “I’ll even give you a head start…”

”H-How…”

“Mmm?” She rumbled, still locked on me.

“H-How long do I get?”

“Ten minutes, an extra five for you to run ahead. Now, if I were you… I’d get going, little stoat.”

“I… at least need a quick breather!” I protested.

“Use your five minutes however you want, but once they’re up…” she didn’t need to finish that sentence, the licking of her lips loud and clear.

I couldn’t exactly run, having used most of my energy earlier. So I settled on short bursts every few seconds. Periodically, I’d glance back at her, that smug grin never leaving her face. Turning back to the task at hand, I had to try to find something to help this end in my favor.

Those five minutes were the longest in my life as I tried to scout out a place to hunker down. “Time’s up,” the creature sneered. “Now… time for the chase.” The ground shook with each step she took, throwing me off balance. “Come on little stoat, make this a challenge for me.”

I don’t know if it was bravery or just sheer stupidity, but I flipped her off as I ran. She must have gotten a kick out of that, her laughter thundering around me as a result. No matter… I needed to avoid this monster for as long as possible.

I ran and ran, gaining momentum. I’m not sure how long I had been running, but my time had to be almost over. An exhausted smile pulled at my lips. Free… I would make it, beat the bitch at her own game.

I spoke too fucking soon…

A rock.

A simple rock caused me to lose my footing and fall face first into the dirt.

That smug voice rang above me, inching ever so closer. “Mmm, guess you're still a little mouse after all,” she purred. “And darn… you were so close to actually winning this.” I tried to get to my feet, screaming as I was hoisted into the air. Fear's grip returned as she dangled me by my legs.

My breathing quickened as panic began to rise.

Being this high up, upside down of all things, was absolutely terrifying.

My vision grew dizzy as I thrashed around, screaming, pleading, for her to put me down.

“Put you down? I know the perfect place for you,” she hummed.

My screams grew louder as she lifted me overhead, letting go of my legs.

The fall was excruciating, everything slowing still and speeding up all at once. My cries and pleas were sniffed out by the snapping of her teeth.

You think landing in a giant mouth would be better than free falling?

Let me enlighten you… it was not. It’s fucking terrifying.

Every noise I made inside, intensified tenfold. Something as simple as moving my wrist against the tongue's surface was enough to send my senses to their limit.. Hell, even my own screams made my eardrums hurt.

I was going to have one hell of a migraine when this was over…

Everything started to move all at once, earning a cry of alarm. I shrieked, roughly pinned to the roof of her mouth being savored like some favored sweet. I hated the feeling of her tongue on my bare skin. Too many textures to try and comprehend all at once. Rough, soft, wet… cold?

How is it so cold inside of her mouth?

I didn’t have any time to ponder the thought, everything abruptly shifting backwards. Scrambling as I tried in vain to delay what was about to happen. I screamed as her throat opened up, eagerly claiming its prize. I was pulled down quickly, squeezed on all sides, slowly being pushed towards my tomb.

It was becoming too much for me, the noise, lack of light, and being squeezed everywhere. I kicked and thrashed trying to get the esophageal walls to just stop, fucking, touching me!

I gasped, the pressure on my body increasing gradually then dropping off completely. Shaking violently, I curled into a fetal position. The slow steady thump of her heart was making my head ring even more. I sobbed, begging for it to be all over.

“Too… too much.” I whimpered, covering my ears.

“I’m sorry… sit tight okay?”

I heard those words as clear as day, but nothing reverberated within the fleshy chamber that held me captive. My thoughts didn't last long, I cried out as everything shifted around me vigorously.

It… it was just becoming too much to bear, vision blurring — what little there was to begin with.

My breathing was short and shallow, adding to the already growing headache.

Don’t know how it happened, but I lost consciousness…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dusk sighed, biting her lip when she felt the movements in her middle stop. It was hard to fight the urge to place a comforting hand over her stomach, desperately wanting to let the girl know she was safe.

“God… she put up a decent struggle going down. Hope the kid’s alright,” she thought silently.

The giantess's pointed ear twitched as she glanced up, picking up on the faint cheers and whoops from the denizens' concealed outpost. She snarled, fingers digging into the ground. Every fucking month they sent some poor soul into her cage just to be chased around and eaten for show.

Dusk desperately wanted to show these fucks what true fear felt like.

Grabbing a good sized rock, she chucked it as hard as she could. A smirk formed on her lips as shouts of alarm and surprise came once it made contact with the glass near the top. A faint beeping near her neck made her roll her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. You freaky assholes had your fun… now piss off and leave me alone.”

She grumbled a few choice words under her breath, carefully getting to her feet. Dusk was about to head back to her sleeping quarters, when something caught her eye. Near the entrance where the human came from was a black speck, somewhat strange as everything was shades of green and brown. Getting closer to it, the giantess could easily tell it was a backpack with her sharp sight.

“The kid must have brought it in with her,” she chuckled. “Odd, but I’d imagine she’ll want it back.”

The massive woman delicately picked it up with her claws, taking great care not to rip it. Dusk was left surprised by the weight of the tiny item, curious as to what was inside. Well, that would have to wait, as it would be hell to even try to open the tiny thing.

Dusk placed the bag in her palm, heading over to her “private” area, closing the massive door with a loud slam.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My body felt sore all over; it hurt to even move. A shaky sigh rushed through me, the weight of my body sinking into softness around me.

Soft?

Where was I even at?

My eyes fluttered open, greeted by the soft crimson glow of the interior. My blood ran cold when the events from before came flooding back to me. A shrill shriek escaped from my lungs, my sore body flailing about madly. Everything tightened around me, my arms pinned to my sides. I let out a meek whimper, tears falling from my eyes.

I’m going to die, truly die inside of this fleshy tomb.

“Calm down… good grief, I don’t need you kicking up a storm in there,” her voice vibrated all around me.

“L-Loud,” I whined quietly.

“Huh? Speak up, I can barely hear you.”

“IT’S TOO FUCKING LOUD IN HERE!” I screamed. “My clothes are soaked, sticking to every part of my body! Even there! I’m being touched anywhere and everywhere! And it stinks! I hate it! I want out! I WANT OUT!”

“Oh… alright.” She spoke much softer now, barely a whisper. “Just give me a sec to get you out.”

Everything loosened up, my body sinking back into the folds of the stomach lining. How was I even still alive like this? I was pretty sure I passed out here earlier… didn’t I?

I cried out, squirming weakly as everything tightened once again. “Need… you to work… with me. Try to keep still, okay?” Everything briefly let up as she spoke, only to return with a vengeance. A timid whimper was all I could muster, trying to remain still for the giantess to do her thing.

I closed my eyes as tight as I could as I was pushed up her throat and into her cavernous maw. She pushed my small frame to the roof of her mouth, sucking on me for a while. I gave her palate a swift kick, reminding her to let me out.

A low chuckle came in response, light flowing in as her jaws parted. A shiver went down my spine seeing two of her fingers coming to grab me. “W-Wait,” I yelped, eyes wide. A sigh rushed out, followed by a low inquisitive rumble of my captor. “N-Not like how you picked me up before… please,” I whimpered.

“I’m… I’m terrified of heights.”

I felt everything shift forward, squeaking as the massive muscle under me shifted. More light illuminated my surroundings, causing me to cover my eyes from how bright it was. Another surprised cry escaped my lungs as I slid off her tongue and into an open palm. I scrambled to the middle as much as possible, not wanting to guess how high I was.

“I was hoping to try and get as much saliva off as I could… make the clean up a bit easier on you,” she chuckled quietly, wiping the side of her mouth.

I gave no reply, hugging my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth.

“Hey kid, you okay?” She tried to touch me with a finger, but I swatted it away.

“Don’t touch me!” I screamed, my emotions taking over.

I buried my head in my arms, sobbing like a two year old. Just take it away… take this hellish day away. Why isn’t it over yet? Will it ever be? I wish I never took this fucking job. I wish I was home with my family, friends, and my beloved kitty.

My sobs grew louder and louder in a cursed crescendo.

“Hey… I’m going to put you down, okay?”

I didn’t listen, too lost in my one-woman pity party to even notice her lowering me to the ground. She must have done this before, as I was on the ground when I looked up. Sniffling, I slid back some, wanting as much distance as possible. She got low, giving me that much needed space.

“Hey… I don’t know if this is going to help much, but I believe this is yours.”

With wide eyes, I watched as she placed something a few feet in front of me. It was my bag! Yeah, it may have been stupid to be so happy to see something as insignificant as a backpack, but I was weird like that. Scooting close enough, I reached out and snagged it, hugging it close to my chest.

“T-Thank you,” I murmured.

“You like that bag quite a lot, don’t you?” she chuckled, resting her chin on her hands.

My cheeks flushed from embarrassment. “It’s not the bag, but what’s inside of it…” I say meekly. “I find comfort in items that hold my current fixation. They remind me of home. Those I care about.”

“Ah, I see.” She moved, making me slide away, fear once again gripping me.

“Easy, easy… I’m just trying to get comfortable. This pen isn’t easy on the joints.”

Again I didn’t respond, eyes remaining locked on her. I watched as she twisted and stretched her massive body trying to get comfortable in the cramped space. My eyes did wonder somewhat, moving along her muscular arms, legs, and chest. Now that I could actually look at her without having to run for dear life… she was built pretty damn well.

“Like what you see?”

Her words snapped me from my stupor, cheeks now burning from her question. “S-Sorry… I didn’t mean to stare,” I whispered. She chuckled, twitching an elvish ear. “You’re fine. I don’t really mind, in fact…” The giantess got lower to the ground, a seductive smile forming. “I encourage it.”

My face grew hot despite everything that happened, a flustered peep escaping from my lips. I hid my face in my bag, wanting to scream into the void. The woman’s sudden laughter thundered around me. Screaming, I covered my ears again.

“Loud! Too loud!”

“Oh right… sorry, kid,” she murmured sheepishly. “I forget how powerful these lungs of mine can be.”

Cautiously, I pulled my hands away from my ears as I sat up, shuddering as deep maroon pools stared back at me. Wait… did her eyes change color? I could’ve sworn they were crimson before.

“Something on your mind?”

”Your eyes… they were previously red, right?”

“Yeah, they change based on either my mood or current hunger level. Also what’s your name? Don’t think you want me calling you mouse or kid while you’re stuck here…”

“Stuck? What do you mean by ‘stuck’ here?”

“Knew this was coming eventually,” she muttered, looking away briefly. “So… after the show, it’s not uncommon for the organizers to leave a human with me. Don’t exactly know why. My best guess is they let the hype die down before letting them go. ”

“H-How long am I going to be trapped in here?” I asked, voice shaking with every word.

“At best, three days at worst… little over a week.”

“No, no… nonononono.” Panic set in at her words, I started rocking repetitively.

It was getting hard to breathe, my chest starting to feel tight. I could feel my heart pounding rapidly, adding more to the pain.

“Hey it’s okay, calm down,” the giantess spoke softly, moving her hands closer.

My eyes darted from side to side as she got approached.

“Don’t touch me, don’t touch me, don’t touch me,” I sobbed repeatedly, fingers digging into my skull. Out of pure stress, I pulled at my hair with one hand and bit down on the other.

She was trying to tell me something, but it didn’t help, as it fell on deaf ears.

I bit down hard on my hand, the dull, metallic taste of blood hitting my tongue.

She spoke again. With some effort, I could make out her words: ”Look at me.” The woman’s voice was firm, yet gentle.

“Breathe…”

I tried, only short shaky breaths coming. Nothing was helping… I was going to be forgotten about.

“What helps you? What grounds your mind?”

“D-Darkness, b-but not pitch black,” I forced out, tears running down my cheeks.

“Okay… anything else?”

“M-Music… not t-too soft, n-not too loud.”

“Keep your eyes on me, okay?” She moved her hands slowly, cupping them over head but also giving me enough space. A low hum came from her, the perfect pitch for an aching head. My breathing began to slow to normal as the throbbing in my head and chest dissipated.

“There we go,” she smiles softly. “Better now?”

”A-A little,” I say timidly.

“A little is better than nothing…”

I glanced away, pushing up my glasses. A lot was on my mind right now, anxiety aside. But there was one thing I could get out of the way…

“Lex…”

“Hmm?” The giantess spoke, ears perking.

”You asked for my name right? It’s Alexis, but I prefer Lex.”

”Well Lex, it’s nice to meet you,” she purred. “I’m Dusk, the sexy giantess.”

I snorted at her retort, which soon turned into full-on laughter. Dusk’s eyes seemed to sparkle, her grin widened some. She readjusted, resting her cheek on her hand. “I gotta say, this is the fastest a human has ever calmed down around me. Most just end up huddled in a corner, begging to be let go or for me not to eat them again.”

“I guess that I surprise myself sometimes,” I laughed meekly. “I think somewhere deep down I can tell if someone is good or not. But then again, it doesn’t always follow through. I’ve been burned more than once before. I think my biggest flaw is that I’m too trusting, to a fault…”

”Trust is a two way street, easily earned but just as easily shattered,” Dusk responded.

“Yeah…” I murmured. “I do have a question I’d like to get off of my chest, if that's okay?”

”Sure, what is it?”

”This? This situation, what is it exactly, and does it happen often?”

Dusk sighed, running a hand through her short matted black hair. “Well… to put it bluntly, it’s a show of sorts. They toss low level employees into my pen, we have a game of cat and mouse, I eat them… rise and repeat.”

“God, that’s horrible! I would imagine this whole thing leaves them pretty shaken up after they're finally allowed to leave.”

“Uhhh, about that…” she began. “I usually wipe or alter their memories, trying to ease the burden a bit. I can do the same for you when the time comes, if you want?”

“If it involves you touching me… I’ll deal with the increase in therapy bills,” I huffed sarcastically.

Dusk snickered quietly at my retort. “Noted. I’ll keep the physical contact to a minimum.” She rolled onto her back, stretching out a fair bit. I couldn’t help but be in awe at what lay before me, still trying to grasp that it was even real.

“Hey, Lex?”

I snapped out of my haze to see her open palm placed before me. Confused, I looked up at her, tilting my head to the side. “Would you like to climb on? Don’t think sleeping where you’re at is going to be very comfortable…”

I gave Dusk an uneasy glance, holding my bag tight to my chest.

“Right… forgot, scared of heights,” she murmured.

Biting my lip, I shakily got to my feet. Readjusting my bag, I crawled onto her open hand. She met me this far, I might as well try and do the same… but that didn’t stop my body from shaking. The giantess’s face softened a bit at my actions, using both hands to cradle me. I closed my eyes tightly as she moved, a small whimper coming out.

“You okay there?” Dusk asked, concerned.

“Y-Yeah… still a lot to process in one setting.”

“Well, for what it’s worth… Thank you. It’s nice to have a real conversation for once. I can’t remember the last time I’ve talked with someone.”

I smiled, “Yeah… same here, even if it took a round trip through your gut to get to this point.”

Dusk smirked at that, leaning back in her makeshift bed. “Hey for what it was worth… you tasted pretty good.”

“Annnnd, I’m not going to continue this conversation. I’d rather not repeat that again. Too much for the senses all at once…”

“No promises… but I’ll keep the eating to the down low,” she chuckled, letting slide off of her hand.

Shifting a bit more, Dusk reached over to grab a sheet of cloth. She proceeded to rip a small section of it, handing it to me. “Sorry, this isn’t exactly a 5 star hotel,” she muttered. “But at least it will keep you warm.”

“Thanks,” I responded quietly, taking the makeshift blanket. Yawning, I propped up my backpack to use as a pillow. Grabbing the fabric, I pulled it over my body. It didn’t smell the greatest, but would keep me warm at least. I was close to passing out when Dusk broke the silence.

“Sleep tight,” she murmured.

“You too,” I said with a smile, soon succumbing to sleep’s embrace.

[froznwater]

im so sorry this is incredibly random but if i dont write alenoah i WILL die but i cant think of anything to write. do u have any simple ideas. ignore if not

HI!!! tysm for your ask <3 i hope you can find something to write amongst all the ideas. These are a bunch of ideas have written down in my notes/google drive/tumblr posts and have not got gotten around to. I still might at some point in time but feel free to use them. I will still do my own take if I get the time/motivation. There's simply so many, why not share and inspire some fics :)

----

General ideas:

Noah knows/learns spanish. Bonus points if Alejandro isn't aware until the perfect moment.

Alejandro thinks he can get away with flirting with Noah in spanish. Noah starts shit talking in spanish. Noah learns so he can hear all the little comments Alejandro keeps making under his breath. etc. so many possibilities.

Now that the show is over and Noah's off to college, he realizes he’s missing something in his life. Maybe it’s his friends, maybe it’s a lack of ever-looming danger, OR maybe it’s Alejandro. Who fucking knows. He’s too busy trying not to be in love with Alejandro to figure it out. 

Their group project is failing, horribly. There’s one thing Noah knows for certain: Alejandro's to blame. At what point does slippery eel turn into a term of endearment?

They have never ever fallen asleep next to each other. Let alone in each other's arms. Never.

Time loop where Alejandro is stuck on the episode where Noah gets voted out and sticks himself to falling in love because he can’t let go of his pride long enough to simply let Noah stay in the game and move on.

Noah loses his contacts and starts wearing his glasses more often. Alejandro notices. Everyone notices Alejandro notices.

Alejandro and Noah team up to get their friends together (insert whatever ship you like) and end up together in the process/the other two were trying to do the same thing for them.

A commentary timeline on how Alejandro's charisma turn into exploitation, how Noah's patience turned into indifference, and how they parallel each other. (I've written a few hundred words for this one lol.)

Each thinks the other doesn't like them. Cut to third party POV that watches and witnesses them completely a mess for each other.

Noah, once voted out in I See London, learns about Alejandro's family. Who have been very vocal since the show started airing.

Exploration of how Alejandro tries really really hard. Yes, He's at the top of the class, but so is Noah. Noah who sleeps through classes and doesn't turn in homework and shows up late or simply not at all and is still right up there with him.

“I would kill to be like you. To just absorb all the information fed to me. If I were you I might actually- “(beat my brother) “Might actually what?” “I told you. I don’t want to talk about it, Noah.” - "Do you know how long I studied for that test? Hours. And you- You got a 96 with no effort at all." It was a 98. But this seems like a bad time to correct him.

Dialogue one-liners prompts i've written down:

"If we make it out of this alive, I'm going to kiss you."

“Why do I feel like I cant say no to you?”

"I know you don't actually care about me, but thank you for trying to pretend that you do." (Said by Noah is joking. Said by Alejandro is bitter.)

"You can't win against someone who has nothing to lose."(Alejandro OR Noah angst.)

Soulmate aus:

My big two: Telepathy/Mentally linked.(imagine this one as a wt rewrite omg) And Whatever you draw on yourself shows up on your soulmate. Matching tattoos.

First words on each other. (I've done this one already here. but feel free to do it as well!!)

Communicating through dreams. (If you know cardcaptor sakura; like that.)

General AUs:

Until dawn AU.

Gakuen Alice AU.

My Babysitters A Vampire AU. Zombie Apoc AU.

Harry Potter AU. Reality Dating Show AU.

Infinity Train AU!!!!!!

Veronica Mars AU!!!! (i wanna do this one ALOT noah is sooo veronica LMAO) OBLIGATORY IDEAS:

seven minutes in heaven.

wrong number.

trapped in a closet.

movie night. noah is sitting under alejandro and lol they are physically, platonically touching for awhile. (leads to finally getting together).

one gets injured, the other fixes them up in the nurses office :P.

short "prompt-ishs" i've started writing:

“What the hell is your problem, Alejandro?” And this time, the tone was so disgusted, so bitter, that something snapped, deep in Alejandro’s chest.

Fuck it.

“What’s my problem?” He asked, incredulous. “What’s my problem? You’ve got to be kidding me, Courtney. I almost died. I almost died, paralyzed and alone, and the only friend I thought I had didn’t give a single shit! The only person who cared was Noah, of all people. I quite literally come back to life and the only thing you can do is whine about your girlfriend problems.”

Courtney takes a step back.

“I was stuck in a robot for months, my legs barely work, my family moved on- actually, I don’t know if they ever actually even noticed,” He laughs, broken, “- and you have the audacity to ask me what my problem is?!”

Alejandro is over playing nice. He’s had enough.

-

this one is a rivals team up to get out courtney blurb

little idea about Alejandro getting into zodiacs.

moments where alejandro questions why Noah is so attractive

-

SEND MORE ASKS IF ANYONE HAS ANY QUESTIONS ON ANY OF THESE IDEAS!!! / IF THEY HAVE ANY IDEAS OR CONCEPTS TO ADD OR EXPAND ON :)))

[gayofthefae]

It isn't just about proof of behavior or anything, set that aside.

It's about how once you even just experiment with viewing Mike as a love interest to Will - not even having feelings for him, just "his eventual/endgame love interest" - he hits every romantic trope. Everything he does, in fact, is some sort of classic romantic trope in writing.

Something shouldn't be. The first thing I did to figure out if St@ncy was endgame was see if they had an overarching story - because it wasn't maintained through the seasons, I had to stretch a little bit and in the end, they didn't really. So with that example, any other pairing that isn't endgame - even canonically romantic, when placed into this test does fail.

Everything Mike does is able to be justified as motivated by romance or lending itself to romance. That should not be true.

I can prove Mike's queerness and feelings in the diagnostic-style: eliminating all other possible explanations to find only one that fits every data point.

But I can also format as the classic theory on universal truths, basing it on the simple absence of something from the world. "This is true because there is nothing that proves it wrong and there should be. The implication of a lack of disproof is proof."

Mike has feelings for Will because there's no other explanation. But Mike also has feelings for Will because I have rewatched this show repeatedly since believing so and a single scene should have not fit it by now.

Again, I have failed to justify other storylines before. I can't. This is not a testament to my ability to justify things. It should not have any structure or tropes at all, let alone classic romantic ones every time.

They wrote it like a love story and they never didn't. They didn't take breaks from writing it like a love story. They maintained the storyline the one occasion that they didn't, not doing so was the acknowledged storyline. They wrote it like a love story. It always comes back down to structure. Love Mike Wheeler all you want but he doesn't exist. You can insert anyone you want into their storyline - just like how people say if Will were a girl more people would get it - and it'll fit.

Jim loves Pam but she's with Roy. She thinks Roy is dead and they bond more as he supports her in that grief. Roy comes back but now she's distancing herself from Jim in a way she didn't before. He calls her out on it and she apologizes and he thinks they've made up, but after he and Roy both end up moving to the same place for a job opportunity, she does not keep in touch and when she visits them, he confronts her about it and she defends that she didn't keep in touch with him because they're just friends. Roy confronts her about not telling him she loves him in a long time to which she is unable to respond, so he agrees to a business trip far away from her. She thinks he might be in danger there, though, and she apologizes to Jim and they work together to go after him. She does not know why she can't tell him she loves him and says she thinks this is the end of their relationship. She also expresses that she's scared she's not good enough for him to stay in her life, so Jim tells her how much he loves her, saying it's Roy's words. When they get there, Roy is dying and feeling too low to fight for his life because he thinks she doesn't love him (we're stretching the genre here, I'm doing my best). Jim reminds her that he needs her and she is able to help, so she tells him she loves him. Jim is heartbroken but understands, he didn't want Roy to die either. After they get back and Roy is safe, Pam is spending more time with Jim than Roy.

Transferring the story to a sitcom maybe wasn't the easiest call, but you get it, right? That makes sense. It plays like a love triangle, and that final leg of her spending more time with him than her partner raises eyebrows to still having feelings for him from when they bonded while he was out of the picture. Maybe you don't know how it'll end, but it doesn't play like a friendship. It plays like a love triangle.

[tulipathy]

Latest Fanfics

Rules: post the beginning lines of your most recent 10 published fanfics, then attempt to tag 10 people!

Thank you for the tag, @opal-apparition! ♥️

For chaptered works, the first lines of the most recent part.

soun melinen, soun suinathen (Solavellan, E, "powerful names, powerful silences", ongoing— 4/6 chapters— 13k)

“What’s big and wet, and smells like sand?” “...This beach?” she offers after a few beats of silence, unwilling to let Varric’s attempt go without answer. “Tamassrans, if you follow all the rules,” the Iron Bull says. He says it like it is not a guess.

only her hand may anoint her brow (Solavellan, E, ongoing— 2/6 chapters—12k)

Tarasyl’an Te’las. It is so beautiful she feels sick. There are so many demons she is sick, right onto the snow. She wipes her mouth with the back of her arm and keeps going. Tightens her grip on her dagger and keeps going. There is fightthrill in her and she is so close she is giddy, so close the sourness in her mouth could be a song.

most fair (Abelas/Merrill, E, complete, 3k)

It is so tall it blocks the late afternoon sun, and so beautiful Merrill’s mouth shakes. She takes in the limbs of trees flanking the mirror like guardians. Behind the ends of their branches, the gold of the frame traces silent magic, potential in the glass waiting for knowledge, or words of power, or worthiness, she doesn’t know, she only knows it is whole and untainted.

worth it (m!Hawke/f!Lavellan, E, complete, 3k)

It is true that he is taller and broader than most human men; she noticed this before anything else about him, and the impression stayed with her even when he tugged her hand and grinned wolfishly over her knuckles, irreverent to the Inquisitor at Skyhold. Irreverent to the whole world, it seemed.

treasure (nb!Taash/f!Rook, E, complete, 2k)

A real Lord of Fortune sleeps as well in a hammock as they do on sand or a mattress. If an inn has a solid roof and anything behind the bar, the number of beds in the building is almost inconsequential. But it’s rare to get a room with two beds, especially since one is all Taash and Rook need. They look at the beds, and each other, and then throw their bags onto the smaller bed without a word. They said enough on the last, flirty few hours of the way here.

glory, gold, a few tales told (nb!Taash/f!Rook, E, complete, 3k)

Five separate groups of Antaam means something is going on, so Taash and Rook keep to the shadows of the palms as best they can. High up on the coastal cliffs some scrubby, fragrant trees manage to grow as well. “If we see any more,” Taash says, “You run.” “If we see any more,” Ytredine mutters, “The mirror took us to Par fucking Vollen.”

Tel’banal (Solavellan, M, complete, 2k)

The world they enter is the prison, but it is not the arid, lifeless place he left. Parts of it catch gleam in the unlight, and Solas can feel how it evades the boundaries of his design and sprawls beyond them. 

Studious (Solas & [@!] Lavellan, T, complete, 2k)

He goes alone to the humans’ clutch of buildings and tents in the snow, and inserts himself there in humility so useful and undemanding it is not long at all before they put him directly at the side of the interruption of all his plans. An elf, he is surprised to learn. Young (old enough to know better, one would think), with her wrists held by short chains to the frame of a cot and Elgarnan’s mark like a barbed net across her face. As Dalish a fool as it is possible to be. She is doubtlessly proud of her vallaslin, the way all Dalish are proud of exactly the wrong things. 

woe is the song of the sparrow, the cry of the doe (Solavellan, T, complete, 5k)

He told her— You are perfect exactly as you are. You have a rare and marvelous spirit. Not rare or marvelous enough. In the end, a common and unremarkable spirit, unworthy of explanation even by someone who seemed to cherish spirits so well. A spirit low as dirt and as meant to be casually trampled under a palms up retreat and a sorrowful, bewildering apology.

i pay my dearest costs by silk of silver, or milkweed, or dandelion kites (Fenhawke, M, complete, 7k)

The light in the Alienage is dry by day and dusty by night, and what makes it through the arms of the Vhenadahl is weary. It is usually a quiet place. But on a night that turns out loud and fateful, light slides along the shock of a sharp-armored elf’s hair like it has found another moon and managed to rally to new glory. Hawke is stunned by it the first night she meets him and she looks for it many, many nights and days thereafter.

@dayntee have you done this yet? I would love to see yours! And anyone else who sees this, feel free to say I tagged you! (TAG!) I am still setting myself up on tumblr, you'd be helping me.

[valeriancrow]

Directory

Dividers: @sisterlucifergraphics , @cafekitsune , and @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Thank you for letting me use ur dividers!

Genshin Impact (not taking requests)

One Piece (pending release)

The Arcana (not taking requests)

Requests are OPEN. Rules for requesting are here.

Requests currently pending… 0 (pls send some)

Currently have 5 fanfics in progress.

Shanks x Genderfluid Reader: mundane life on the Red Force, haven't figured it yet. has the most written words but lacks true form

Strawhat crew x afab anthropologist: Big ol' slowburn between Luffy and reader, they might not even get together. not a lot of romance goin on, but some well thought out high tension scenes. a real lil summary: "Series or mini-series with strawhats & afab anthropologist. Luffy comes across reader while they’re digging on an abandoned island at some ruins. Ur so tuned into ur dig site and notes that you barely notice ur being watched until it’s too late. Also takes place after wano and before egghead" I'm really excited for this one. this could also be Robin x reader but we'll see which way this story takes me.

Strawhats & male accountant/brooker: this is another potential slow burn but with nami. but this one most likely won't have any romance. also might just be a one-shot, when I write it i'll know how I feel about it. the real summary: "Series or mini series with strawhats & male accountant/brooker. Becomes besties with nami and keeps her in check from extorting the crew too much, def helps her with it sometimes." with how I'm feeling about this and how nami only loves beri idk if they're gonna get together.

Luffy x reader: based off of a poem

Zoro x tomboy reader: based off some fanart going for a mini series vibe. def modern au tho

"[Soft haughty tone] Hello fellow travelers, I am the Master Tale-weaver Valerian Crow. You might have heard of me on the whispers of the wind, or in your local tavern. For I have written a great many of stories, from entertainment of the sexier kind to the softest of fluff. [abrupt pause and soft accent is dropped] Okay, that's enough of that. I literally don't have anything else to say."

Hii, I'm Danny but my penname or persona for this blog is Valerian Crow. When referencing this blog, my works, or just addressing me use Valerian. I'm 18 and I recently graduated high school and going into college in Autumn.

I've been writing fanfic since I was 10 I think, might have started earlier, starting with the good old favorite Nico di Angelo x Will Solace smut that never got posted. Then later I wrote a 13 chapter pjo self-insert on Wattpad that I deleted so that's never getting posted here unfortunately (not). Also I happened across tumblr during the early days of the quarantine, I got no idea how I didn't find out about it sooner. I then got back into writing with Genshin Impact fanfics and posted them on Quotev. I have since abandoned the fandom in favor of One Piece which is the only thing I will be writing for. I possibly may be open to new fandoms or only specific characters but for now I'm sticking with my One Piece.

If you want to get to know me as Danny and not as Valerian please go follow my main blog @nico-ith. Here on this blog I am Valerian Crow and will not respond to Danny unless it is important.

credit for banners: @cafekitsune

~Valerian

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter 15: The Killing Game

<<previous chapter | next chapter>>

masterlist

cw: cursing, blood and hints to SA

…

“Please don't!” Another day.

“I'm begging you!” Another mission.

“I'll do anything, just don't kill me!” Another kill.

Every day was the same as the last, It was an endless cycle of pain I put many people through. The fact that I can hear and feel the life force just leaving their bodies makes me want to join them. 

How long has it been? Days, weeks, months? I felt older, but that maybe had something to do with me being back in the 50's, time travel took a massive toll on my overall health. I never want to do this again. But I don't think I'm leaving anytime soon because she would never let me, she thinks I do too much of a good job. 

The Handler says I'm a natural killer, she says that I'm purging the universe of all the things that could change the original pure timeline. The apocalypse is one of those “pure” things. I don't agree with her, but I feel my mind slipping into submission like it always has.

She says Five told her that since he and I have different missions to help their cause it would be too time-consuming to talk. I don't think I'd want to see him anyway, he put me here with the hope of a possibility. But I know I can't be away from him forever, we have to go back home by any means necessary.

I've gone on at least thirty missions.

“Oh! B/n come here!”

Thirty-one.

I quickly stood up from my seat in the library section of The Handler's office not wanting to upset the waiting woman any more than needed. She's especially cheery this morning, it makes me dread what mission she's about to put me on today. From what I've learned from eavesdropping, I'm too special to get assignments like a normal worker from a case worker, like Five. No, I have to get them straight from her.

“Why good morning! There's something important for you to do today. Something I cannot trust to any of these everyday chums here.” How is she laughing at the people she recruited and probably took away from their own homes? Just like she did to us. Her grasp on the assignment paper tightens as she narrows her eyes at me. “I'm sorry. Am I being boring?” Her cruel words break me out of my trance. 

“Of course not” I croaked out. “Continue.. please.”

Just like a switch was turned on in her head she went back to her somewhat lobotomized state. “Great. Your assignment is to find a Mr. Luca Palumbo in 1942 New York, wow aren't you lucky! Well of course you will need to eliminate him, but for timeline sake make it look like a hired kill.”

“That would help to stage the Palumbo and Amato family's hatred which also causes the flux of the Italian mob which also causes hundreds of other meant-to-be deaths.”

She made me sick with her twisted words and the false joy that was on her painted face every day. But I couldn’t fight it even if I wanted to, my faint moral compass swayed more and more every day to just get shit done like I did when I was a kid. No one back at the academy had to know what I was doing, not even Klaus. Not even Five if I played my cards right.

Who am I kidding? I sound like an idiot. Of course, Five would know, he’d been through this exact thing and he’d come out.. as normal as possible. I need to get a grip. 

Her voice cut into my headspace once again. “So what do you say?” She grinned. We both already knew my answer, since I couldn’t oppose her. But she’s sadistic, she liked making it seem like I had an option. Like giving her prey a second to run before bolting after it.

I finally met her eyes and gave her the same answer I gave thirty other times. “Of course.”

..

The perfect cover story would be me posing as a hooker or a stripper but against The Handler’s suggestions, I decided I didn't need one. I'm not from this time and I don’t care about this mission enough to cover my ass. I made my way down the dark streets of Manhattan to hopefully get this over with quickly.

Luca owned a nightclub in the heart of the city, it wasn't too rancid which was a plus but an obvious front for illegal activities. I could feel someone’s eyes on me as I entered the building but I wasn't sure if it was from a woman wearing a suit or if he was on to me.

My plan was simple: corner him when least expected and kill him with a pistol similar to the one hidden in his pants right now. 

I took a seat in a velvety booth that was closest to the club stage. Aside from the half-naked dancers there was a plethora of men. But I wasn't here to kill them, I needed to find Luca. I let my eyes follow the crowds of gamblers whose voices were louder than the live band. It took a moment but from across the room I finally locked onto Luca. 

From what I was told I expected an old seasoned mob boss but from the back he looked as old as me. I could only get a closer look at him when a pretty blonde dancer passed his way, making him turn around. 

He was a brunette with a slick hairdo and a small mustache. He nursed the cigarette between his smirking lips as she passed. With a ring-covered hand, he beckoned her back over, she looked hopeful and ready to answer any question but he never said anything. Instead, he grabbed onto her body and smacked her ass, while laughing about it with his friends. If that was me, I would've taken that hand off clean but she had to stand there and take it, it was her boss after all.

I remember being that helpless back when I was trying to find my way after the academy. The situation made me wither in anger. I wanted this man dead more than ever, disgusting scums like him don’t deserve to live. My grip on the table in front of me was tight and the ringing in my ears felt like a teapot ready to boil. 

I regained composure and watched on as he engaged in conversation with the other mob bosses. He had to do something else other than poker, I'm sure it's been hours by now. As I waited for him to get along I started to think. 

Eat, sleep, and control others, that's all these kinds of people do and nothing will ever change, the powerful stay the powerful unless there’s something we can do about it. 

Something I can do about it.

Something I can do about The Handler. 

Life would go back to what it was if The Handler was gone, no matter how fucked up it was I had finally gotten control back of myself.

But what could I do? Of course, she’d probably be an easy kill but I have no doubt she'd haunt my everlasting memory forever. Everything she said about me is exactly correct no matter how much I wish it wasn’t. I don’t like killing, it scares me and so do my powers but you have to do what you don’t like to survive. My mom taught me that.

I chuckled at myself, it's always mother-like daughter. She survived in a different country by tolerating a man who married her for some strange fetish but never retaliated against him. It had confused me a lot as a child, but when I became a teenager I started to resent her and maybe I still do. But I realize, just like that dancer, some people are just surviving, they are forced to take the poor hand dealt to them and try to make something better of it.

Until scum try to drain them of everything their worth. It’s a constant cycle, which leads me back to this guy. Luca Palumbo, the guy I was sent to kill. The guy was currently on the move toward a back door, which I wouldn't have seen if I didn't quickly snap into action.

He was walking at a fast pace for a person just heading to a different room, maybe he’d spotted someone he owed money to or maybe he’d spotted me.. 

I followed his faint figure through the strobe-lit hall, at this point I had no clue where he was going. I turned my head to make sure no one was behind me but the only thing I saw was an empty hallway. 

Luca took a sharp turn to the left, into a room that faintly looked like a storage closet and quickly faded into the dark room. Warning signs seemed to just flash in my brain but I kept going anyway, he had to be on to me. I quietly entered the room behind him but it was too dark to tell where he was. At times like these, I wish I had x-ray vision.

The only sign of where he was was when he slammed the door shut behind me, locking him and me inside the storage closet. He then took a few steps closer to me. I could tell he was trying to intimidate me. Jokes on him the only thing that scares me is my childhood trauma.

“Now I'm gonna make this quick, Sally is waiting for me. I saw your eyes on me for hours but not in the way most people's eyes drift. And then you followed me here. So what do you want?” His transatlantic accent rang in my head, it was like right out of a TV.

Questions were swirling in my head, but I knew I was here for a purpose. I'd never talked to my kills before so I didn't plan on starting now. But against my better judgment, I opened my mouth. “Who’s Sally?” I asked.

“Why, she's the newbie floozy you were also eyeing before. You're not jealous are you?” His audacity was astonishing, here I am trying to kill him and he thinks I'm a secret admirer or something. How thick can one man be?

I was fuming from the way he started talking about this girl. I couldn’t even hear it anymore and it was obvious by my heaving breathing. I've seen countless idiots and killed them for less of a reason, there had to be a reason why this one was making me so upset.

“I'm gonna turn on the light and we can solve this, alright?” He laughed. “If you wanted me you could’ve just said it. I don’t bite.”

The light illuminated the room making it easier to see his smug face. “You're not too bad yourself. Would you like to work here?” So can I be assaulted? No, thank you.

He was prodding at me, trying to rile me up; it was like he reveled in my piercing eyes and balled-up fist. But they weren't for him, they were for this stupid uniform, the suit limited my mobility because it was too small even though it was my exact measurements. I wanted to burn the horrid thing but I settled for just taking it off. 

“Starting the show a little early, no? Not that I'm complaining.” Luca goes and tries to grab onto me but before he’s able to get my shirt off I punch him in the face, sending him flying. His back hits the door and he slides down with a groan. “What the hell?” He shouts.

He gets up in a frenzy reaching for the gun at his waistline, wasting no time firing it right into my shoulder. It didn't hurt, they never did. The fucker couldn’t even fire correctly and the worst part was that it didn't even go through me. That shit was lodged into my shoulder.

I laughed at him, before reaching into my shoulder with the side of my face and pulling the bullet out with my teeth. It was a long and grimey experience but I was proving a point. Once I grabbed onto it I spit it back out at his dress shoes and watched his face turn into horror. 

“Crazy bitch!” He shrieked, accent dropped. I knew it was fake.

He panicked and reached out for the door handle but he never escaped the room. I waited for a second before acting.

Then I became a different person. I just kept punching, quick and hard right into his pretty face. I let out a slur of noncohesive words and rambles. “You're the worst kind of person on the planet!” I yelled in his messed-up face. 

“All you do is take!”

Punch

“You take from me, you take from Sally, you take from everyone you steal money from!”

Punch

“Then you try to seal me away and control me. You're just as bad as her!”

Punch

“You deserve nothing.” 

Punch

“Why am I the one who has to hurt?”

Punch

“What did I do? While you sit there on your high fucking horse.”

At this point my hand is strikingly red with his blood and so is his face. I got that same teapot ringing in my ears, I could feel every cell in his body. It’d take me only one action to crush all of them. 

Right here right now, and then he’d combust into a pool of his cancerous blood. That would be the only way I make sure when I leave he doesn't get up again. That he can't make children who have to deal with a shitty father, just like I did.

Looking at the bullet on the floor made me remember why I was there. I had a mission, even if I was too blind to see it at the moment. I stretched before grabbing my similar gun not caring if my prints were all over it. I was done with this situation.

And as he tried to crawl to the door I shot him. One for his disgusting remarks, two for his awful behavior and ten for fun. Right in the back, just like one of his cowardly friends would do. 

I rid myself of the gun and wipe my bloody hands on my shirt. Lastly, I grabbed my jacket and stepped around his body, ridding myself of this situation. I did what he couldn’t leave the room just like I could leave The Handler's box she placed me in. It was time to do something about the commission.

I needed to talk to Five. 

It was time to leave.

..

I walked in the rain with the briefcase in my hand that was given to me by the commission. I originally hoped when I stashed it under the velvet booth it would be stolen so I wouldn't have to go back. 

As quickly as I turned angry I turned back to the sad, sorry self I've always been. I sniffled and reacted for the briefcase to go back to headquarters. Being already familiar with it, I just let my hands do the work and silently sobbed.

I wish I still had my therapist, then maybe I could uncover why I'm so angry. And why I let it build up to the point where my outbursts are well.. deadly. I can't blame anyone else for that, it's just a me thing. 

When I got back to the commission and had calmed down in the bathroom I stalked the hallways. All I needed to find was a little boy in shorts and then I'd spot him. It was hard though with the bustle of people, it must’ve been lunchtime.

I’ve never been one to the mess hall because I don't want to interact with other workers and I don't really eat.. Knowing Five he wouldn't want to eat with them either so he must be somewhere around here.

Using my knowledge of the place I walked over to where the case managers resided during working hours. But I stared at the floor as I walked. Not noticing the tiny steps walking out of the office, we collided for a quick second before we noticed who each other were.

It was Five, in all his tiny glory. Adored in the same fitted suit I was in but less wet and bloody. He looked just the same as when we were brought here but his hair was a bit longer and he looked more agitated.

He stared at me with his eyes wide. “Y/n” he whispered. I could almost cry again at his words. After not seeing him for months I missed the little shithead. “You look…”

I giggled and looked at my feet. “I know it's not my best outfit, I know. Trust me the water wasn't planned for.” My only coping mechanism has always been jokes.

Five was at a loss for words, I thought he was going to reply with something equally as snarky. He sighed. “I'm so sorry.”

I felt a bit angry actually, after all these months of torment. “Well, Five I think we're a little above sorry. Don’t you think so?” He had no response. “I mean you put me here and then don't talk to me for months. And after this, you get what, a body replacement? What do I get? except for more kills on my belt?” I rambled all the thoughts I'd been dying to ask someone with an actual mind in their head.

“It could’ve been anyone else Five.” I shook my head. “Even The Handler said you didn't want to talk to me.”

“And you believed her?” He finally spoke up.

“What else was I supposed to believe?” I furrowed my brows. “This is your palace. I've never been here before. It was just like when I was thrown into the academy. God.”

“…” 

“Look, if that's all you have to say. I'm gonna go get cleaned up.” I looked away back towards The Handler's office. I know Fives never was the best at expressing himself but I guess I expected more from him.

Five clears his throat. “Wait. I have a plan okay? I know I messed up. It was selfish to bring you but I need you to trust me when I say that I'm trying to do the best for us. Just come with me.”

We stared at each other again. “Okay,” I replied. “I do believe you, and I know you’ve spent your whole life trying to get back to us. I just wish that I wasn't dragged in during the process.”

He gives me a somewhat smile. “Whatever we do now, we do it together.”

“I can live with that.”

..

Five led us into the room that held all the field assignments, a room I’d never been in after we listened in on a conversation between Dot and the woman who ran it, Gloria.  They were talking about how the Handler knows Five is up to something. And that Gloria needs to send a letter to warn Hazel and Cha-Cha.

But before she could send it we made it to her first. The boy blipped us into the room and then stapled her in the back of the neck. Which caused her to drop to the floor cold. I gave him a weird look for his choice of weaponry but he only grinned.

While I was on the lookout he grabbed the message and rewrote what it said. At first, it said “Reassignment: protect Harold Jenkins” and now Five wrote for them to assassinate each other. Which was smart thinking.

We both entered in one letter for both of the workers and watched them go down the shoots. It was finally done now we just needed to get a briefc—-

“You both know that's not how we do things around here.” A familiar voice cut in. I turned to look at The Handler with dread, it was truly over now. We’re never leaving 

“Where’s Gloria?” She asked.

Five respond for us. “I don’t know we couldn’t find her anywhere.” Which could’ve been a great lie if Gloria didn't groan in pain from where I put her behind the desk. The Handler turned slowly to her hurting form as Five gave me a look that meant get ready for anything.

She looked repulsed at us but only her words pierced me in the heart. “You’re a great disappointment to me B/n. To be here with him, after I asked you not to. It makes no sense.” I could tell Five was confused by whoever’s name she just called out. But I know what she meant.

Then she turned her sights on him. “You can't change what's to come, Five. I truly find it so odd that you can shed this little fantasy. You're a first-rate pragmatist.” She raises her voice. “You two belong here with us.”

“In a few days thanks to you, we won’t belong anywhere.” He exclaims.

My gaze deepens at The Handler, “why would we want to stay here? You turned us into killers.”

She laughs at me. “Oh please, you two have always been killers. Especially you, do I need to bring up your count over the years?” She reaches down to unzip the leg proportion of her sleek dress. Revealing a pistol which she points at us. “I just pointed you in the right direction. Don’t forget about how you started. You both came from nothing!”

“You’d still be with your boring parents if not for your powers. So use them!”

My initial reaction was to shield Five from bullets or jump at the woman and kill her, but Five had other plans. He grabbed me and blipped us away behind one of the machines in the room. The whole area went into shock, someone must’ve pulled the alarm because there was a blaring sound and a whole lot of movement outside. 

The Handler never stopped shooting at us as we blipped around the room.

“What’s the rush?” She calls out. “We’re just getting started.”

As we hid she growled restless and started doing anything she could to manipulate us one last time. “Is that how you want the last line of your report card to read?”

Five whispered at me to trust him, I was confused for a second until he blipped me next to Gloria's desk and himself in front of the crazy woman. He started to egg her on. “When I'm done, I'm done, I guess.”

Her creepy smile returns to her pale face. “You can't keep this up forever, Five. We both know you have a limit. And carrying two people has to hurt a bit more right? I saved you from a lifetime of being unhappy.” She bares her teeth at him. “You owe me.” 

“Speaking of which, where is the flower?” She fakes a loving attitude as she looks around the room for me. I quickly dive under Glorida’s desk.

When she turns back around to give him one last snarky comment, I finally understand what he wants me to do. I leap out with one last satisfactory glance at him. And I grab a book from the table and smack The Handler over the head with all my might.

Thankfully it's before she could even fire the gun at him. I let out a huge sigh of relief when she fell to the ground. Five walks over to me, stepping on her long body as he does.

He looks at me. “I did owe a debt but it wasn’t to her. Come on, I owe you one.” 

“Five! That was so sweet! I could melt right now” I gushed.

“Well now I shouldn’t have said anything and I should just leave you here, ew.” We laugh at our win.

But he still drags me along down the halls towards the briefcase room with him anyway. As he rigs us a new briefcase because I forgot where I had placed the one I came back here with I watch the commotion. People running like they are headless chickens everywhere, and thankfully no Handler.

Five throws a grenade into the briefcase room and we duck for cover. “Where the hell did you get that?” I laughed.

“You don't wanna know.” He smiles.

With one last glance, we opened up the briefcase and let the blue sparks engulf us.

“Goodbye, Commission. I hope I never see you again!” I yelled at all the destruction. 

..

What’s left of The Umbrella Academy is stationed in the living room, having a discussion they had just had before..

“Hold the phone.” Klaus groans out. “We all died fighting this thing the first time around, right?” 

Diego calls out from behind the bar. “Klaus, shockingly, has a point. What gives us a win this time,”

Luther has no time to respond, even if he did it wouldn't have been heard over the crackling of electricity. Blue flashing lights take up the ceiling of the living room and two people and a black briefcase come trickling out of the sky.

Everyone runs back in fear.

“Je- Jesus!” Alison shouts while covering her head.

They all take a minute to see what actually fell onto the bar table. A sight they’ve seen before.

“You guys, am I still high or do you see them, too?” Klaus asks.

..

We both landed on the uncomfortable bar table. I could feel my head spinning from time travel, I needed to throw up. “What the hell? You said the landing would be okay this time” I yelled at him. I raised my head to see all of the questioning faces. “Oh hey, guys” I slurred out.

Luther is the first to respond. “Where the hell have you guys been?” Five is unresponsive because he’s too busy, rolling off the counter onto the floor. 

Everyone rushes to the falling boy and they start pumping him with questions. 

“Are you alright?” Allison says.

“Who did this?” Luther asks.

“What are you two wearing?” Klaus remarks

Five finally gets back up onto his feet, not before stealing the cup of coffee in Allison’s hand and walking a few steps away from everyone. “All irrelevant.”

Then they all turn to me. “It’s a long story.” I shrugged. One that was too scarring to tell.

The boy gulps down the entire full cup of coffee. I finally peered down at my clothes, we were covered in ash from the grenade and I was still soaked.

“So, the apocalypse is in three days.” Five began to speak. “The only chance we have to save our world is, well, us.’

“The Umbrella Academy” Luther mumbles. 

“Yeah, but with me, obviously. So if y’all don't get your sideshow acts together and get over yourselves, we're screwed. Who cares if Dad messed us up? Are we gonna let that define us? No.”

Everyone including myself shares his sentiment and we all shake our heads no.

“And to give us a fighting chance to see next week. I've come back with a lead. I know who’s responsible for the apocalypse.” Five hands them the paper we found earlier.

“This is who we have to stop,” I added. 

Allison opens the paper and the boys all look over her shoulder. “Harold Jenkins?” She tried out the name, it sounded weird to me too at first. Like it was fake.

“Who the hell is Harold Jenkins?” Diego belted out 

Five and I share one last of our little looks. We needed to prepare for the road ahead, but there was one last thing I had to do..

…

hey sorry for the big gap between chapters, i keep all my info on my phone about this book and it just broke. This is me on a temp phone for now!

Taglist:

@aloflapse

@isomehowexist

@elenalovestoread

@miscrying

@gabriella-aesthetic

@dakotapaigelove

@solarbeanz

@theoriginalone1111

@water-hemlock18

@tialovesyoutoo

@bunnychano3o

@rockyeatrock

[penvisions]

of beskar and kyber {chapter 14}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: The Empire will cease at nothing to gain what it wants, but you're determined to fight back at any cost. Flanked by the renown Mandalorian and those he recruited for such a mission, you willingly walk into the trap set by someone from your past.

Word Count: 12k (i'm sensing a new pattern here....)

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical gore, canon typical fighting, canon typical language, minor character death (not detailed), star wars cursing, modern day cursing, violence, fighting, description of injuries, mentions of blood, references to life threatening injuries, poison, descriptions of anxiety, descriptions of ptsd, violent reactions to trauma, dangerous reactions to trauma, references to past sa (not detailed), fire, explosions, battle descriptions, use of reader inserts given name as a plot point, um there's a whole lot going on in this but please let me know if i missed anything?

A/N: um, hi, gonna drop this and run away. okay, bye, love you

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Darkness blanketed the landscape quickly, the sun setting and taking with it the sense of comfort.

In the dark, tensions seemed to rise. Bounty hunters used to working in solace and three individuals who had been on their own for as long as they could remember out of self-preservation was not a good combination to put out in the already hard to traverse terrain of the lava flats. The amber glow of the lava was bright as it wound through the rough volcanic rock of the ground, split open into wide valleys in some places. The sound of it a constant clinking that hummed in your ears as it echoed across the open land. Akin to glass shards being tossed and tumbling together.

An errant thought of hunger led to the slaughter of a goat, one of many that had been seen across the sprawling landscape throughout the day’s travels. The remnants of it on a makeshift roasting spit above the crackling fire. You had opted out, choosing to stick to the dried fruit hidden away in the pouch attached to your thigh. Cara had tried to hide her knowing smile as you slid one into Din’s gloved hand and he lifted it underneath his helmet in the guise of adjusting it. But you had seen it, just as she had seen the small exchange.

Kuiil was quiet, taking his role of caretaker seriously as he sat on Din’s right, feeding small bites to ad’ika from the roasted meat.

“I guess the little bugger’s a carnivore.” Karga spoke up from his relaxed position to your left. He was half laying down on his side, one arm propping him up and a knee bent to help steady himself. Watching eyes taking in the odd gathering of people he had assembled around the campfire. “Never seen anything like it.”

He was contemplative for a second, humming before he spoke again.

“They were ready to pay a king’s ransom for that thing. Must be for some kind of highfalutin menagerie.”

“And for you, lovely San.”

“It’s Sarad.” He’d barely gotten the last consonant of your name out before you quickly corrected him, not wanting it to be said aloud. It was risky enough that he knew it, had known it nearly as long as Din, but you didn’t trust it coming from his lips. You hardly wanted Din to use it, still conditioned to keep it a secret as close to your heart as possible, wary of it getting back to your mother, the people who already knew of your exact location and with whom you were now traveling with. Even using your self-appointed name, folded into your identity the second it had fallen from your once guardian could jeopardize your efforts to remain a shadow and go unnoticed. But the chances were more slim, less likely someone would take notice.

“Apologies,” He aimed a small smile your way, head knocking back to see you fully from his spot. “For the lovely Sarad…they were ready to decimate the town in order to search for you once they found out you had visited. The rumblings stirred by the mere hint of your presence were indeed very impressive. Is it true that you have a lightsaber?”

“The only way you’re gonna see it is when it’s drawn on you.”

“Ha-ha! Such vigor, I like it. You intrigue me, dear Sarad. But I’m sure there’s much more to know about you if you’ve managed to catch the attention of Mando here. He’s never taken on a traveling companion in the years I’ve known him. Must be something truly special.”

“Let’s go over the plan again.” Din directed the conversation away from you, not liking how much Karga wanted to engage with you. Wondering how long he had held onto your puck while he waiting for the Mandalorian to make his way back to Nevarro in between jobs, the once activated tracker and the holder of your scant personal information something he both regretted and thanked the Maker for ever having been privy to. More so the former, he would admit to you in the cover of darkness aboard the Crest.

“Alright, well, we both enter the common house. We show the client the bait. We join him at the table. And you kill him.”

“What’s the client’s name?” You interjected, warning bells beginning to wind up in your psyche. A low thrumming tone that was gaining volume as the conversation went on.

“Classified.”

“If I knew who it was, I could give you an idea if it’s going to be as simple as that. Most ranks that actively meet with those they’re trading with aren’t that high, they work as a front for the person who holds the power. The command and forces to hold up threats to ensure that deals get made in their favor.”

“Tell me about his reinforcements.” The visor was panned toward you, keeping you both in his line of sight. Unsure of how your interaction would play out, but knowing how Karga was, he worried for the man picking at unseen wounds and soft spots you kept hidden from people well. He could see them in you, picked up on them in the time he had spent with you. The conversations you both shared and the confessions given to him with trusting and willing lips.

“They’re all ex-Empire. As soon as they lose their paycheck, poof, they’ll scatter.”

“And what if they don’t?” Cara looked to you, eyes catching your own in the glint of the firelight, doubtful frown marring her beautiful features that you tried not to mirror. But it was true, they wouldn’t scatter. It was never that simple with the Empire, ruling and controlling not only with the promise of monetary compensation but the threat of violence and decimation of any who defies them.

“They will.” Karga pushed, not knowing exactly what he was dealing with and unprepared in the most worrisome of ways in how he’s concocted his plan. As if he were dealing with members of the Guild and not an once galaxy wide regime clinging to power as people believed. But it was alive and well, in some pockets and this happened to be one of them flourishing on Nevarro.

“That’s not good enough.” Din looked across from you toward the still relaxed and half lounging man. “If Sarad has intimate knowledge of how they operate, we need to heed her words.”

“Look, I get it. You don’t trust me, I barely trust you. You nearly landed a kill shot when I saw you last. But her? Mando, she could be playing us both and we wouldn’t even know it. Just trying to get her own intel to figure out how to play us all against each other and reap her own rewards from the rubble.”

“Insinuating that might as well be your resignation on this whole kriffing thing.” Cara barked, causing the others around the fire to jump. “She has more at stake here than any of us, having been forced to work with them in the past.”

“It’s alright cyar’ika. I’m used to people not trusting me.”

“If, for argument’s sake, a few of them don’t realize that I’m their best path for alternative employment and they elect to react impulsively, then these three fine Guild Hunters, along with that battle-hardened shock trooper, and one of their own ranks that has managed to break away will cut down anyone who bucks.” He sat up completely, motioned to each person he was talking about. Confident, self-assured, cocky. And oh, so wrong.

“How many will there be?”

“No more than four.”

“Bantha shit.” For all the bristle and heat in your words, you looked collected. But Din caught the way your eyes glinted as you sat between them, and it could only be compared to the way they had done back on the ship when Karga’s transmission had played. The discussion that resulted from it stirring something inside of you that despite being aware of it and doing your best to tamp down, was manifesting in ways the Mandalorian was picking up on. And it worried him, your whispered words of your history echoing in his mind.

White sabers have been purified.

Din’s hand was discreet as it brushed up against your own, the plate of beskar protecting the back of his hand cool against the tips of your exposed fingers. With a small huff, you tangled them with his own and settled down further in your spot. Comforted that the cover of night would shield the contact from those around you, even with their aided vision should they have the mechanics for night vision in their goggles, resting atop their heads as they sat across from you. The conversation quickly dissolving into an argument, one that you nor Karga surely had the energy for.

“Are you questioning my intel?”

“I’m calling a bluff when I see one. There is absolutely no reason why a quarry of ad’ika’s caliber would only warrant four.”

“He travels with, at most, a Fire Team. I’m beginning to think it would be best if we were to tie this one up and make it look like a true capture. Trust me.” He continued on as he stood, wiping his gloves on his pants to ride them of dirt. He was about to open his mouth to say more genuinely placed words of encouragement when an animalistic screech pierced the air and the flap of giant leathery wings of a beast swooped low and claws swiped at his arm.

His scream spurred everyone to scramble into motion.

It was chaos, the haunting sounds of their wings bringing them low to swipe at any weakness in your group it could find. Din bent to activate the closure of ad’ika’s pod, sealing him in safely to avoid him getting targeted. You were turning with your own blaster raised high and rushing behind Kuiil as he tried to ward off the creatures from taking one of the blurrgs.

When it had been successful, you turned to Din with the question of direction on the tip of your tongue.

Din’s hands were steady as he fired on the imposing figure closing in on you both, as you felt the swoop of giant wings behind you, and you tried to reach out for him with a call of his name. Panic making you forget that it was a secret just between the two of you, the fear of being torn apart spurring it from your lips.

A snarl fell from your lips right after his name as you felt massive claws grasp the fabric of your cloak and lift you up from the ground.

The snarl turned into a shriek of your own as the claws ripped through your clothing and dug into the skin of your shoulders, carrying you off into the air.

Legs swinging as you struggled to maneuver in the tight grip the creature had clamped over your shoulders as you tried to shield the pod ad’ika had hidden himself in. It wouldn’t have mattered if he was safe inside of it if they had still managed to pluck it up from between everyone. Wind whipped around you as you tried to gather your bearings, eyes stinging as dust and dirt whirled up all around you. The dark landscape dizzying as it lit up with blaster fire and the glint of it off the armor everyone donned and the beasts’ bodies.

You took a breath, trying to settle your overworking mind when it decided to recall the way it felt the last time it had been flung and lifted into the air. But that was different, this wasn’t an explosion knocking you off your feet and sending you sprawling a great distance from where you had been. This wasn’t the nightmares or memories that plagued you endlessly. This was a creature that had seen an opportunity for an easy meal and you had to focus and get out of it.

Faintly, you heard you name shouted, a rough and angry sounding thing echoing behind you. It fueled you, pushing you to reach up despite the claws digging in your shoulders, ripping through the layers of your cloak and clothing, scrabbling on the smooth expanse of the chainmail you had donned for the excursion. But still, it sunk in between the rungs of metal, stronger than the material and pierced skin despite the protection.

Massive leather wings flapped above you, wind whipping up and disorienting you as you felt gravity lurch. It was hauling you, taking you higher and away from the conflict. You worried just how far it could travel and tried to orient yourself before it was too late.

Hands scratching into the thick skin of the creature’s feet, you stabbed a knife deep into the joint. An ear-piercing shriek had you flinching, ears ringing as you felt it release you from that foot’s hold. The other clutched at you tightly, holding fast and digging its claws in even more. You shouted out in pain, trying to pull yourself up by the grip you managed to get on it, but the remaining claws only dug deeper into your skin.

Grunting as you let your body sag, you reached into your pouch for the saber hidden inside. You braced yourself, taking in the heights that the creature had flown to and mentally prepared for the fall. A deep breath centered your focus before you engaged the blade and swung up to sever the last leg holding tight to you.

“Mesh’la!” Din’s voice crackled forth from the comm link built into your vambrace. You didn’t stir, body aching and fire coursing through your veins as the poison from the creature wound its way into your system entirely. Your breathing was labored, a slow push and pull of too hot air as you had collapsed alongside a flowing river of lava. “They’re poisonous.”

“C-copy that,” You stuttered out, voice waning as you tried not to succumb to the fire burning you from the inside out. Laid out in the middle of the vast open planes, the dead carcass of the beast that had tried to pluck you up lay in a heap not too far.

“I can’t see you even with my helmet’s range, are you okay?”

“Claws, dug into my shoul-shoulders.” Breathing was becoming too hard, a wheezing wrapped around your words, making them raspy and hard to pick apart.

“Dank Ferrick. You have a med pack with you?” 

“Won’t work on the poison, will only slow- slow it down. It burns.” You slurred, body not listening as you tried to shift it, rocks and gravel digging uncomfortably into your hip and ribs as you lay sprawled on your side. You moaned out, unable to stop the effect it was having on your tone. “Kriff, it burns.”

“Mesh’la, ad’ika, he’s-“ Static took over his connection, a cacophony of sounds filtering in from the other side, from where he must still be back at the make shift camp. “He’s healing Karga.”

“Mirdala ad'ika.  Kaysh's bid jate,” You tried to breath in, but it only resulted in a harsher wheeze, pain striking long down the entirety of your chest. “N-ner kar'ta, ni liser't sur'ar. Ni liser't nari”

Clever boy. He’s so good. M-my heart, I can’t concentrate. I can’t move.

“Ni liser't haa'taylir gar. Enteyor cuyir too chaaj'yc.  Mesh'la, ni'm bid Ni ceta. Gedet'ye, kebbur at taylir bat.  Ni'll yaimpar at te Crest, Ni'll mar'eyir gar.”

I can’t see you, too far. Mesh’la, I’m so sorry. Please, try to hold on. I’ll get the Crest. I’ll find you.

You could hear him rustling around, gathering his things and no doubt scooping ad’ika’s small form up and securing him in his pod. Cara’s voice floated through the speaker, too distant for your tunneled ears to hear but her tone was distressed. No doubt picking up on the rising panic you could feel in Din even from the distance, so connected to him you already were.

An argument seemed to break out, voices filtering over the line in a jumble. A blaster was fired and then silence.

“Nayc, ner kar'ta.  Te aka. Gedet'ye, sur'ar bat te aka. Par ad'ika.”

No, my heart. The mission. Please concentrate on the mission. For ad’ika.

“Mesh’la…” He was torn, you could tell by the bated breath sparking static through the line, doubly so from his modulator beforehand. But he had to keep on the task at hand, he had made a decision, he had to stick to it and see it through. You would be okay, you managed to say over the line, fingers tingling as they began to reach for your shoulders. It was dark save for the ethereal glowing of the lava that flowed all around you, the sound of it like broken glass tumbling a hum in the back of your mind.

“I’m going to try to heal it, but…” You winced, a heavy exhale as the tips of your fingers gently prodded the torn fabric and broken metal had been meant to protect you. You closed your eyes to focus, pulling on the wisps of the Force all around you.

“You’ll lose consciousness, it’s not safe.”

“Safer than letting the poison take, I’ll find you, ner kar’ta. I’ll find you in the town.” You managed to get the words out, though they were weak and barely audible over the open line.

“Promise me.” He demanded, though his tone was anything but harsh, it sounded strained, quiet, pulled from between clenched teeth.

You couldn’t respond, mind scrambled as you forced yourself to focus. The injuries causing you to warble out a pathetic sound as they began to heal in rapid time. The pain cascaded down your body, the poison being cured in your veins lighting you up. Black edged your vision, clouded your unseeing eyes before it took over completely, your exhausted mind going blank as unconsciousness took over.

“You’re quieter than usual.” Cara tried to break the silence. It wasn’t tense nor uncomfortable, it just was and it was beginning to get to her.

“I have nothing to say.” Din’s modulator didn’t give away the tension he was carrying in every nerve of his body. Thoughts on a loop, mind replaying the events of the night before.

“I know, I’m worried too, but…she’s strong. She can take care of herself.”

“Not if she’s unconscious. Using whatever it is, the- Force, she calls it, takes its toll. Tires her out, much like the child.”

“He’s been more vocal since last night, doesn’t seem to affect him the same way.”

“He’s fighting sleep, he’s probably trying to reach out to her.” Ad’ika had indeed been agitated since the attack last night, constantly shifting when his eyes weren’t closed in obvious meditation. But he would always huff and return to fidgeting after trying to focus himself.

“I thought he didn’t talk?” She turned to pin him with a raised eyebrow, unsure if he had misspoken or she had misheard him.

“She tried to explain it to me once, but to be honest, I didn’t understand it. She said it’s like…hearing another’s thoughts in your own mind. Can relay emotions, feelings, words, even memories and visions if one concentrates hard enough.”

“And you think he’s trying to reach out to her? That’s why he won’t give in to sleep?”

“Yes. He’s attached to her, they have a bond that…means something, it’s important. Two individuals from the same background reunited. ”

“Mando…he’s bonded with you too. He knows you’re doing everything you can to protect him, saved him from the Imps once already. Kriff, you’re walking into a trap for him. All to ensure that he can no longer be afraid.”

“Here we are.” Karga announced as they approached the door leading into the cantina that acted as a basis for Guild operation. Din deliberately dragged his foot as he stepped up, making a show of stumbling in his cuffs as Karga’s arm wrapped right around his own to guide him into the space. “You see? Four.”

Din seethed as the client from before came into view, standing from his seat tucked into a booth. All he could think was:

Is this one of the men who manipulated you into serving them?

Was he one of the men who forced you to do their bidding and help with research?

Take your blood and anything else he wanted from you by force?

Torture and taunt you to the point that you gave into those feelings and allowed for your powers to become tainted as you had confessed to him?

Was this one of the men who had you waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat with echoes of screams on your lips?

“Look what I brought you. As promised.”

“What exquisite craftmanship.” The man reverently ran the back of his hand over the beskar cuirass that decorated Din’s chest, up toward the helmet he had been wearing since he had sworn the Creed. “It is amazing how beautiful beskar can be when forged by its ancestral artisans. I am relieved you do not have any scorch marks from the blade of such a violent woman with whom you’ve taken for your own as the child. She has a tendency to strike those down who command her. But yet, I do not see her present. What became of her?”

“She was taken by a reptavian when our camp was attacked during our travels here.”

“Shame, we could’ve used a specimen such as herself once again.”

Din bristled internally at the way the man prattled on about you as if you were a thing, something to own and control and take from.

“Can I offer you a libation to celebrate the closing of our shared narrative?”

“I would be obliged.” Karga bowed his head slightly, trying to play into his natural sense of self.

“Please sit.” The man observed them as they situated themselves across from him. Taking in the way Din was still such a formidable visage even cuffed and captured. Speaking, his tone gave way to the insidious notions and rhetoric that he had sworn himself to, tried to carry out in every action he could. His belief in the Empire and what they stood for blinding in its intensity.

“It is a shame that your people suffered so. Just as in this situation, it was all avoidable. Why did Mandalore resist our expansion? The Empire improves every system it touches. Judge by any metric. Safety, prosperity, trade, opportunity, peace. Compare Imperial rule to what is happening now. Look outside. Is the world more peaceful since the revolution? I see nothing but death and chaos. I would like to see the baby.”

“It is asleep.”

“We all will be quiet.” He leaned in closer, one arm outstretched outward. “Open the pram.”

Radio chatter cut the tension, a storm trooper sidling up to the table to relay something to the man who had just prattled on about power and the imposition of rule he worked for and aided in controlling towns, cities, lives.

“Don’t think me to be rude. I must take this call.”

“Give me the blaster.” Din spoke as lowly as he could, instincts telling him the situation was about to shift.

“You get one shot.” Karga swiftly handed it back to him underneath the cover of the table, Cara stepping closer to hear what they were saying and offer her own worries.

“This is bad. You said four. Sarad was right.”

“Well, there are more and she was right. What can I tell you?”

From across the room, Din could hear the hushed conversation the man was having, helmet aiding him and allowing for most of it to be as clear as if he was beside them.

“Have they brought the child and the woman?”

“The woman was lost to a creature native to the lava flats. But the child, yes they have. Currently, it is sleeping.”

“You may want to check again. There are reports of troopers being taken out on the outskirts of town.”

Din felt his heart thud at the words, relief flooding him like adrenaline did when he closed in on a target after tracking them down. You were okay, you had made it to the town. You were doing your best to take out the threat where you could, most likely silently or maybe even outwardly cursing Karga’s flimsy answer of ‘four’ as you efficiently took down as many as that with each move throughout the city streets. A smirk quirked the armored man’s lips as he pictured you mumbling about it quietly as you struck your saber and cut down unsuspecting soldiers standing at guard points.

Suddenly a blaster bolt broke through the window, shattering the glass above the bar and hitting the client square in the chest. His body slumped to the ground as bolts rained in through the window in fast succession.

Amidst the chaos, a figure slipped in through a side door, the telltale hum of your light saber blocking the fired shots and they neared where Din and the others had sought safety. A storm trooper approached, dodging the hits as they came through and fired a few of their own toward the approaching figure.

But you cut them down with a swing of your blade to their middle, searing through the armor easily and getting to the bowels of the person underneath. With a gurgle and spray of blood that trickled in thick drips down beneath their helmet, they fell to the ground.

Everything stilled.

An ominous line of black armored figures could be seen through the now thoroughly broken window, ash from the concrete of the decimated building bloomed up into the air.

“Mesh’la, we overheard you were taking out soldiers on the comm line, good job.” He nodded towards you, his entire body tense as the situation dissolved far too quickly to get a handle on it. As soon as you were safely in

“Anything to help, you know that, burc’ya.” You couldn’t bring yourself to use the nickname you had hazily recalled using with him over your personal comm link the night before. It had been too forward of you. Foolish to display such strong emotions, despite the serious conversation all those rotations ago when he committed himself to you with the intention of courtship. Too real and entirely daunting to feel so completely and all-encompassing for a man that had once been tracking you on a commissioned job.

“But those ones are gonna be a little different. It took everything for me to take them out the last time I encountered them, ended up having to use a plasma grenade.” You nodded out the window, toward the line of black armored storm troopers. “They’re known as Death Troopers.”

As you spoke, the hush of an approaching vehicle could be heard as it wound its way in front of the building. A whole platoon of white armored soldiers spilling out and lining up in an organized ambush, waiting for the call to move.

“Four stormtroopers?” Cara spit to Karga, still hung up on the flimsy lie the man had tried to sell you all.

“This is bad.”

“Kuiil? Are you back to the ship yet? Are you there? Do you copy?”

“Kriff, burc’ya, the transmission is coming in clear to my cuff. Lines have been hacked and set to be intercepted by every link within range.”

He turned to you, comm link still raised to the front of his helmet, his eyes heavy on you through the visor. All you could do was nod to your vambrace, where the transmission he had just spoke had rung out from on the lowest setting, the static feedback warbling out as he disengaged his open line. Something was said under his breath, too low for you to catch it but he continued on once the Ugnaught’s response finally crackled through.

“Yes!”

“Are you back to the ship yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Get back to the ship and bail. Get the kid out of here. We’re pinned down!”

The roaring of a ship was loud, the distinct sound of it making the hair on the back of your neck rise up and goosebumps prickle on your skin. The humming of your saber became loud, crackling almost before it waned and then flared, the slightest tinge to the white lighting up your face. It went out as you lowered it, stepping closer to the window and out from your spot hidden behind a pillar. You were out in the open, visible clearly through the broken window and yet no shots were taken. The line of soldiers on the other side focused on you, weapons raised but made no move to shoot.

“Sarad, what are you doing?” Cara’s whisper was harsh, confusion and worry coloring her words as you focused entirely on the incoming TIE fighter. She shared a look with Din across the room, unsure of what to do.

He took one step to bridge the gap with a soft whisper of your name, hand lifted slightly as he prepared to rest it on your shoulder or wrap it around your waist and pull you to him, to safety. A blaster bolt was silent as it ricocheted off his cuirass, making him retreat out of sight once again, the sound drowned out by the TIE Fighter as it soared closer, beginning to descend. The sound of it gliding through the air branded into your synapses. Taunting you in your sleep, stealing your attention during the day when something too similar a key could be heard nearby.

“No.”

“What is it?”

“No!” You shouted out, saber blade springing to life and glowing a threatening red. Everyone’s eyes were on you, from the people behind you, trapped alongside you to the armored soldiers on the other side of the flimsy partition that the outside wall of the cantina was acting as. They were speaking into their comm links, relaying in real time what they were seeing with their own eyes to whoever had stationed them there. And you had an idea of exactly who it was.

“Mesh’la.” Din’s voice was muffled, blood roaring in your veins as your entire body lit up with adrenaline and overwhelmed your senses. His steps were quiet, though you could sense that he had moved closer, a hesitant hand outstretched toward you in a second attempt. No shots were fired this time, the ominous humming and glow of your weapon making the soldiers pinning you down rethink immediate fire.

“You didn’t say it was a Moff!” You whirled around and pinned Karga was a glare, debris and broken glassware lifting into the air around you as you approached the man with measured steps. Loose strands of your hair curling up with the same focused energy tingling all around you in tune with your ragged emotions. “You’ve led us to a trap that’s going to end up with all of us dead and me back in chains!”

“Let’s everybody just-“

“If you tell me to calm down, Maker, help me…” You rounded on Cara, brow furrowed in anger and eyes glinting. “This is bad, this is….Fuck!”

The bottles still on the shelves of the bar underneath the window to the disarrayed furniture rattled as you turned to Din, desperation seeping into your very nerves.

“We need to abandon this mission, it’s fruitless. Please. Now.”

“You have something I want.”

“No. No, no, no.” The chant was quiet, jaw clenching with the effort it was taking to reign yourself in. You scrambled to tamp down the rage boiling up inside you, filling you with negative feelings and the urge to strike out at any cost. Thoughts of revenge flitting around your mind as the man’s whose voice you last heard had been when you lost the person closest to you.

“Take this, please.” You thrusted the handle of your saber into one of Din’s gloved hands, holding it to his palm until his fingers curled around the metal. Memories of blood splatter, a damaged helmet, a lifeless body, debris from an explosion and smoke-filled air took over your senses. The tang of metallic blood, so much of it, made you dizzy though you know it was only a recollection it shifted something in you, something strong wrapping its tendrils around you and tightening its hold. “I-I can’t be trusted with it right now; the pull is too strong.”

“Who’s this guy?”

“You may think you have some idea of what you are in possession of, but you do not. Not all of you at least.”

Din was hesitant to take the weapon from you, to leave you at a disadvantage in the face of such an organized threat. But the desperation and terror in your eyes prompted him to wrap his fingers firmly around it and take it from your hold. When your shoulders lost tension and you breathed out a held breath with a heavy sigh, he knew he had made the right decision. Nodding to you as you took a few steps away from him, he tucked it into a rung of his belt and brough the comm link up. Another attempt to reach Kuill, static over the silent line.

“In a few moments, it will be mine.” The strong voice was easily projected, confident and sure in it’s words. The man to whom it belonged knew that he had the high ground. “It means more to me than you will ever know.”

Desperation was begging to wave off of the armored man beside you as he raised his voice, his need for a response spiking his anxiety and triggering your own. The lack of response from the Ugnaught was worrying, he wouldn’t simply ignore an attempt at communication. Something must be wrong. And then it hit you.  

Suddenly, you felt a pulse of the Force, legs buckling with the weight of it.

Already so much stronger as your emotions warred inside, allowing crevices for the dark pull of the Force to trickle in and bring the rotten, snubbed roots of it back to life.

“Din,” You whispered, reaching out to steady yourself only for your nails to rake across the pillar as you felt the heaviness settle all throughout your body, making your limbs impossible to control. You fell to the ground, looking up at the visor aimed at you with tears in your eyes. “They have him.”

“Is there another way out?” Cara demanded, needing to know how screwed you all were, if there was any hope of making a run for it.

“No, that’s it.” Karga seemed to look over the cantina, eyes sweeping over the debris and the expanse of walls that surrounded you.

“What about the sewers?” You suggested, voice tight through clenched teeth. At your words, Cara was up on her feet and moving away from the open bay of the broken window. She gathered up a massive blaster that had been abandoned, checking the levels on it and ensuring it was operable.

“The Mandalorians have a covert down in the sewers.” Din praised your thoughtful words, thinking back to how the covert had come to his rescue the last time he had been in the city. That you had managed to track them down and converse with them on his behalf, for his benefit. He activated a viewpoint on his helmet, visor scanning the room. He pointed to a space occupied by a booth, saying there was an entrance hidden behind it. “If we can get down there they can help us escape.”

“Yeah, sewers are good.” Cara opened fire on the grate, but the metal didn’t so much as creak or glow from the assault. Behind her, Din watched, hoping to kick out the plate of metal as soon as it was weak enough.  

When the harsh barrage from the massive gun didn’t cause the grate to yield, both of them turned to where you were trying to get back on your legs. Back pressed heavily to the pillar for support, your shaking hands did their best to help steady yourself.

“Mesh’la-”

“I can’t. I can’t use it right now, it’s not…it’s not a good idea.” You knew what he was asking, demanding of you in a last-ditch effort to find an escape. But it was risky, the power ebbing and flowing through you too uncertain and unpredictable to give into. You had given into it once before and it had taken everything from you, it had taken everything you had to overcome it and you thought you had managed to but that was proving to be a false narrative.

“We need you to!” Cara backed him up, telling you more plainly that the man had intended to.

“You don’t know what you’re asking!” You shouted back, temper flaring at your lack of control of yourself, weakness shining in the worst moment possible.

“C’mon, you’re the only hope we have of getting out of here.” She pleaded with you, words heavy exhales as she panted. The reality of the situation sinking further and further in as the seconds ticked on by and the E-Web was quickly assembled outside.

“I can’t!” Voice impossibly high and nearly hysterical, you could feel yourself shaking, limbs trembling as you tried to keep upright on them. The dark tendrils wrapped around your subconscious tightening and infecting your thoughts with motives of revenge and anger so strong you could feel sweat begin to bead along the back of your neck and in between your shoulder blades.

“Okay, okay. It’s okay, we’ll figure something else out.” Din appeased, not wanting to force you to do something you didn’t want. Not wanting to force you to use the very powers you were afraid of in that moment. Heeding your wishes to drop it, to not call attention to it as best he could.

“Like what! We’re all dead and she can prevent it!” Cara rounded from you and back to him, tongue sharp and words like knives as she aimed them at him.

“I wouldn’t ask you to hurt yourself, why are you asking it of me?” You snarled, eyes glinting as the anger at her question flared something hot and prickling inside of you. It wasn’t what you really felt, but it was being manipulated, the slight hurt of being asked something so significant in the wake of your denial, into something dangerous and cloying.

“Hurt?” They both turned to face away from the sealed grate, confusion and worry in both of their voices, Cara’s brow furrowed and a grimace twisting her features as she realized it wasn’t such a simple request she was demanding of you. You were holding yourself up against the pillar, entire body tense and teeth gritted as you nearly vibrated in your convulsions.

“I-I can’t control it right now, the pull is too strong, I can’t fight it.” You hung your head between your shoulders, palms flat on the pillar as you fought the power sparkling and crackling through your veins, almost painful in its ferocity. A bottle on the bar shelf shattered, vibrant blue liquor exploding into the air along with the thick glass. Another followed it, your limbs shaking as you tried to reign it in.

“You don’t have to, she doesn’t have to. If she says she can’t, then we move onto the next option.” Din was torn, he wanted to comfort you, take you into his arms and wrap his own around your shaking form but they needed to find a way to escape. He needed to lead everyone to safety, needed to ensure everyone saw the light of tomorrow.

“Your astute panic suggests that you understand your situation. I would prefer to avoid any further violence and encourage a moment of consideration. Members of my escort have completed assembly of an E-Web heavy repeating blaster. If you are unfamiliar with this weapon, I am sure that Republican Shock Tropper Carasynthia Dune of Alderaan will advise you that she has witnessed many of her ranks vaporize mid-descent facing the predecessor of this particular model.”

Cara lowered the large weapon in her grip, disbelief at the exact parameters of her identity being prattled off obvious. She hadn’t been aware that anyone had been keeping tabs on her, let alone that closely and now she had been found here on this errant mission on an outer rim planet no one cared about. But that’s what he did, this man facing the broken window flanked by a line of black armored figures, white armored ones fanning out behind him in a sea of dizzying and formidable numbers. He found out everything about those he sought out and used it against them.

And he was about to expose you next. Knowing you from both personal and professional interactions, he was the one to deliver the ultimatum that resulted in your unwilling join up to the very cause that had tried to take you out as a child. 

“San of Kath, as the once esteemed Sith apprentice, can surely back up those claims with her own firsthand encounter with the same machinery which resulted in the death of her beloved Mandalorian guardian Akiz Noves. Whose surname she’s adapted in the wake of such a tragic event that could have been entirely prevented.

Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter who has taken her under his watch, Din Djarin, has heard the songs of the Siege of Mandalore, when gunships outfitted with similar ordinance laid waste to fields of Mandalorian recruits in The Night of a Thousand Tears. And I do thank you, graciously, for digging her out of whatever hole she had crawled into.”

At the announcement of his name, Din looked to the ground, thoughts firing and mind working as fast as it could. His name, Maker, his full name was now known to everyone on the planet, a dangerous thing for someone of his standing.

“I advise the disgraced Magistrate Greef Karga to search the wisdom of his years and urge you to lay down your arms and come outside. The structure you are trapped in will be razed in short order and your storied lives will come to an unceremonious end. Upon retrieval of her body, San will be taken back into custody and revived. To spend the rest of her days aiding in the research her blood will allow to flourish.”

“What do you propose?”

“Reasonable negotiation.”

“What assurance do you offer.

“If you’re asking if you can trust me, you cannot. Just as you betrayed our business arrangement, I would gladly break any promise and watch you die at my hand.” You were shaking your head, trying to fight off the ever present and growing darkness winding its way through your body. “The assurance I give is this, I will act in my own self-interest, which at this time, involves your cooperation and benefit. I will give you until nightfall and then I will have the E-Web cannon open fire.

“I say we hear him out.” Karga suggested, not seeing another way to escape.

“The minute we open that door, we’re dead.” Cara countered, her own temper flaring as the severity of the situation weighed in her own body.

“We’re dead if we don’t.”

“At least out there we’ve got a shot.” She busied herself with checking the mechanics of her weapon, hoping that it was strong and charged enough to last her through a fight should one arise, bound to happen at moment’s notice.

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m a Rebel Shock Trooper. They’ll upload me to a Mind Flayer.”

“Those aren’t real. That was just wartime propaganda.”

“No. It wasn’t.” You admitted from your position kneeled on the ground behind a pillar. All eyes in the room fell to you, not even realizing you had crouched down in your internal struggle. You rose to your full height, shoulders rolling as you peered out to get a better look at the man begin to walk away, his cape flowing with the movement of his steps. You had seen the mechanics of the fabled flayer first hand, had been threatened with it far too many times to comfort her with a lie.

“What about you, Mando?” Questioning gaze turned to the man who was focused on you, on the way your fingers were twitching in your leather gloves. The way your legs were trembling and your breath was being shakily exhaled with every nearly panting intake.

“I know who he is. I’m sure you do too.” He nodded towards you, watching the way you couldn’t tear your eyes from the retreating figure.

“It’s Moff Gideon.” The announcement was heavy in the air, the name holding a weight to it as it was spoken aloud.

“No. Moff Gideon was executed for war crimes.” A nod of the woman’s head a dismissal.

“It’s him. He knew my name.” Din insisted, knowing he was right. Knowing that you were aware of who the man was as well.

“So? What does that prove?”

“I haven’t heard that name spoken since I was a child. With the…exception of Sarad seldom using it.”

Cara’s brow arched as she turned to you with a twitch of her lips. If the situation wasn’t so charged you were sure she would tease you over it.

“On Mandalore?”

“I was not born on Mandalore.”

“But you’re a Mandalorian.” The surprise in the older man’s voice made your heart flutter, keeping the darkness at bay as you realized how much Din trusted you to have shared so much about himself with you. Yes, you knew about the culture of his people, but his name, the snippets of his past. IT had all been given to you freely and with great care and trust.

“Mandalorian isn’t a race.”

“It’s a Creed.” He turned to look out the window, gauging the soldiers lined up and waiting, the sea of them going back as far as his helmet allowed him to see. “I was a foundling. They raised me in the Fighting Corps. I was treated as one of their own. When I came of age, I was sworn to the Creed. The only record of my family name was in the registers of Mandalore. Moff Gideon was an ISB Officer during the purge. That’s how I know it’s him.” 

“That’s how he knows who we all are.”

“He says he needs us, which means the child got away safely. I was worried when the Ugnaught didn’t respond, but if they’d captured the kid, we’d already be dead. Mesh’la can you try to reach out and connect with him? I don’t want to ask it of you, but it’s important.”

“I already tried, I can’t feel him. He’s most likely in shock.”

He tried the comm link one last time, but it was nothing but static.

“They might have jammed the link, like she said.”

“If I were to-“ You didn’t face them, aware of how they were nearly spitting at each other behind your back, the charged atmosphere of the ravaged cantina getting to everyone.

“No.” Din cut you off, voice low and rumbling from him with a force he hadn’t used on you yet.

“We can’t trust him, he’s going to fire that thing on us no matter what we do.” Cara spoke, holding a handout to you, urging you not to turn yourself in hopes of a chance for them to get away, to escape the situation that seemed to be hopeless. She wasn’t sure if she would even be able to hold you back, but she would try. She would do whatever it took to get you to safety and away from the possibility of being taken back into the hands of those you had escaped. Feeling so strongly that you deserved better, that you needed her to help look out for you with the trust she had been given with hesitant words and bonding conversations after deeming her worthy of them.

“She’s right, he’s not going to hold to his word. Even if we give into what he wants.”

“He’s got ad’ika! At least if I turn myself in he won’t be alone, I can argue for our safety while in his custody.”

“You can’t.” the modulated words were hard, an edge to them.

“I’ve been a part of their regime before, maybe…maybe that still means something to them. If I’m willing to help them with whatever research their conduction or experiments they’re doing I can ensure ad’ika remains alive. If the last apprentice fell, if the last Sith fell, they- they need me. They need what I can do to enforce their return to power.”

“They would take you as a prisoner, you have a history of betraying them. There is no chance of this turning out how you’re thinking it will. Not this time.” That same edge coated the words, his urging you to see the fruitless attempt at your thinking of a way to sacrifice yourself for them.

“Willingness to contribute has to count for something.”

“It doesn’t and you know that.”

“He wants me, Din. He wants me alive. He wants ad’ika. But you, all of you, he’ll cast aside without a second thought. I can ensure your safety, barter for it with my concession.” You whirled around to face them, cape flipping up with the motion and flaring out behind you. You could sense how more than a few of the soldiers outside curled their fingers around the triggers of their blasters, nearly giving into the urge to fire.

“I won’t let you.” He growled out, voice striking you and overpowering the dark tint edging more and more over your mind and body.

“You-you don’t control me.” Your eyes met the dark visor that concealed his eyes, wanting for all the worlds in the galaxy to see them clearly. Look into them and let him know that while you had given parts of yourself to him, that he truly had no control over you. That it was all given to him, shared with him, that you had chosen to do so with the understanding that power over you was something he didn’t want. And that if he were to try and play on that, you wouldn’t let him get away with it. He must’ve read all of that and more in your intense gaze because he let out a soft sigh, his shoulders rolling as he felt the power emanating from you even across the space of the room.

“No, I don’t. But I will not be the reason you are taken back to a life you do not want, a life you ran from. I will not.”

Suddenly ad’ika’s cooing burst to life over the line.

Brightness flared in your chest, relief flooding you at the happy sounds of the precious being.

“Kuiil has been terminated.” The modulated voice of IG-11 came through the connection loud and clear, the sound of strong wind a harsh background noise. Din seemed frozen, body stiff and shoulders tense as he slowly brought the comm link up to the front of his helmet once more.

“What did you do?”

“I am fulfilling my base function.” The rather ominous statement didn’t settle well, fueling Din to growl into the communication, voice dark and holding a promised threat should anything befall the child at the hands of the droid.

“Which is?”

“To nurse and protect.”

An explosion further off in the city erupted, the attention of the soldiers out front diverted. Din approached you cautiously with your weapon held tight, the leather of his gloves crinkling as he went over the chances of something in his head. As he did so, Karga downed another shot from the bottle he had snuck closer to his hiding spot.

“I need you to try,” He pressed the handle to your palms, suddenly in front of you, mirroring your actions from earlier. You looked up into the visor with a furrowed brow, lips downturned as emotions flooded you. Fear, worry, anxiety, anger. “For ad’ika, you need to try and fight whatever it is you’re afraid of. For me.”

“What if I can’t? What if it takes over? I-I won’t be the same, I don’t want you to see me that way.”

“It’ll be okay, I’ll help in whatever way I can if that’sfoohouhad the case.” He leaned in and pressed the cool beskar of his helmet to your forehead, comforting you with the small motion in the only way he could at the moment. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips a thin line as you tried to take what he was offering and use it to help center yourself. “We need to fight our way out of here, it’s the only way.”

You brought a hand up to rest along the side of his helmet, palms sweaty despite the leather gloves you adorned. The action pulled you into his space, one of his own hands coming around to settle at your waist. A whispered acquiescence soft and only for the man pressed up against you.  You could feel the gaze of the other two people in the room focused on your embrace in fleeting moments as they realized the next move. You ignored them, trying to match Din’s even breathing and center yourself despite the pulsing darkness that had invaded your very being. 

He only pulled away when the sound of a speeder broke the stillness outside. Blaster fire filling the air.

It was IG-11, bursting into the scene with a pouch secured to it’s middle, small green ears peeking out from the opening. The droid jumped from the bike, firing not ceasing, allowing for the speeder to crash into a group of the clustered soldiers, taking them out in a small explosion. Din pulled you tighter against the front of his body, raising his blaster with the other as he tugged you behind a pillar. You stayed nestled close to him, his left arm over your shoulders and resting at the small of your back. With a look, you nodded, knowing it was now or never. The only chance of trying to escape.

“Cover me.” He announced to the room, aware that everyone else was on the same page.

He was a force the second he was out the door.

Cara laying fire for him to catch them off guard. You were right behind him, saber tight in your grip and glowing a faint red. But as soon as you laid it into the first rushing soldier it turned a bright white. The feeling of protection and fighting alongside Din keeping the twining darkness under control. Behind you, Karga brushed past you, knowing to flank his other side and spread out to cover as much ground as possible.

Rushing away, you found yourself surrounded by a few of the Death Troopers, the others of the faction circling around Din. He stumbled back as a bolt landed on his left pauldron. Allowing them to knock him off his feet completely, but you had to focus on yourself. You knew he was a strong fighter, had faith in his abilities and his determination.

It was chaos, the entire scene loud and bright with flashes of blaster bolts from every direction, steam and ash rising up from fallen bodies and hit buildings. The hum of your saber falling into the noise with ease as you wielded it effortlessly, taking out anyone who dared to step toward you.

When the echoing clang of IG-11 falling rang out, you turned just in time to see Din make a run toward the E-Web. He displayed his strength by lifting it from the base it was attached to and began to fire toward the cluster of armor that had targeted ad’ika’s charge.

You caught sight of a Death Trooper flanked by a few in white approach the door to the cantina, a grenade in their hand that they attached to the door. With a shout you reached out with a hand and flung them away, but the boom of the explosion was set in motion. Soldiers slunk into the now accessible building, garners a glance from Din and Karga both.

But your focus was on the figure of Moff Gideon, the man approaching the outskirts of the scene with his eyes solely trained on Din’s form. You flinched when rage and murderous intent bloomed harshly, only able to watch as the man landed a hit with his own blaster to the top of Din’s helmet. Causing the Mandalorian to grunt out in pain and lose his hold on the large weapon he had turned against those who intended to use it.

Your entire body was burning as you weaved your way through soldiers and fired shots toward the man, seeing the way that Din exposed completely. Picking up the weapon into his arms once again, Din turned it on the threatening figure of Gideon as he aimed his blaster directly at his target. Mere steps separated you when he changed the aim toward the charging dock for the weapon and fired.

You brought your arms up to shield your face from the explosion, debris and the roar of fire loud in your ears, causing them to ring.

You could only watch through the flames and smoke as the tall, broad figure of Din fall to the ground across the courtyard. The light of your saber harsh as you cut down one, two, three stormtroopers as they advanced on you even in the wake of the explosion. Gideon was hidden, form disappearing in the eruption of flames and smoke caused by the bolt of his blaster. Black armor a protective wall around him.

You kept turning back to Din, mind distracted when the beskar didn’t glint with his standing, motionless on the ground you shouted out with a hoarseness to your voice that bid no argument.

“Din!” You shouted, hoping the sound of your voice would rouse him, but he didn’t move. He didn’t make a sound. Unconscious, injured, dead. Every thought focused on him as you felt a wave of energy and you directed it to throw the blur of white closing in on you away. The blade in your hand crackled, starting those approaching you, making them pause as they contemplated the threat you made. When it hummed with intensity, white diluting to red, some of them turned on their heels and retreated.

“Cara! Get him to safety!” You ordered, seeing her peeking out from the busted door, Karga close enough to help her by laying protective shots at those closing in on them. IG-11 was just behind them, the bag holding the child still secure around their middle. Just as they cleared the threshold, you swiped your right hand out and scattered the bodies following them with a wave of focused intent. Another wave of your hand had door closing behind them, thankful for the metal being able to withstand the explosion by sliding back into the crevice that protected it.

You were so focused on making sure they were protected that you didn’t sense the blade at the end of a staff hurling toward you until it was too late. You shouted out as it dug into your shoulder, the handle of your saber flying from your grip. But you recovered quickly, feeling the darkness flare inside of you. The saber flew back to you as you raised your hand and when it ignited once again, it was glowing a bright red. Crackling sounded harshly as you cut down every soldier that swarmed you.

Gideon watched on, commanding the Death Troopers to burn out the rest of your group from their hiding place.

“Stay with me, buddy.” Cara grunted, hauling Din’s broad form into the deepest part of the cantina, as far away from the window and cracks in the walls as possible. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

“This is our only path out. Can you clear it?” Karga’s voice was hoarse, the dire turn of events beginning to wane on him. IG-11 heeded the command, following close behind the older man as he moved debris out of the way of the still sealed gate. He watched with glances as Cara laid Din’s body against a slab of wall that had fallen and crumbled, making sure he was propped up slightly.

“Stay with me,” She whispered to him, desperate for him to hear her though she wasn’t sure he could in the state he was in. She ignored the heated exchange of IG-11 threatening Karga over the child, focused completely on Din. Worry for you as she realized you hadn’t followed them in, that you were still out there in courtyard.

Panting suddenly burst from beneath the helmet, Din rousing from unconsciousness.

“Whe-where is she?” His voice was wrecked, barely able to make out the words from his throbbing head.

“She’s still taking some of them down, she’s making it easier for us to run if we can manage to get down into the sewers.” Cara tried her best to assure him, though she couldn’t school her face into a comforting expression. Blood trickled into one of her eyes from a cut caused by something that had flown up in the explosion.

“What col-color is her-“ His voice cut off in a harsh cough, throat constricting.

“She’s okay.”

“No,” He made a move to shove up from his position, but Cara placed a firm hand on his cuirass and pressed him back down as carefully as she could. “I need to help her.”

“Mando, no. You need to stay still until we can get you out of here.”

He fell silent, the only sound coming from him his wheezing breaths. Nearly rattling in the way he tried to gulp in any air that he could.

“I’m not gonna make it.” He admitted, turning his helmet from the partial view out the broken window and to the woman hovering beside him. “Go.”

“Shut up. You just got your bell rung. You’ll be fine.”

“Leave me.” Din insisted, not hearing her, not able to hear her through the pain washing over him and the throbbing in his head. It was hard to concentrate, but he had to try. Let her know, let you know that they’re safety was the most important thing now. “Get her and go.”

Cara lifted her hand from where she was trying to help support shoulders, blood thick over her fingers as it had trickled down from beneath the helmet. She was suddenly reaching for the helmet with both hands, knowing it was risky but wanting to ensure she did everything in her power to save the man in front of her.

“I’m gonna need to take this thing off.”

“No!” Din choked out, hands flying up to grip the woman’s wrists tight and prevent her from lifting it, from seeing the damage inflicted on him. “You get her and you leave me.”

“She’s not going to leave you and neither am I!”

“You make sure ad’ika is safe, that Sarad is safe.” He let go of her wrists, pushing them weakly away from him, aware that the attention of the child and Karga was on them both faintly. “She has – a pendant of mine. When you get to the Mandalorian covert, have her show it to them. You tell them it’s from Din Djarin. She’ll know what else to say.”

“We can make it.” Cara shifted atop her bent legs, anxious as to why you hadn’t reconvened with them yet. But she felt the pressure to move, the need to move. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m not gonna make it and you know it.” His voice was barely a wheeze, carrying his words in a shaky exhale.

Cara was about to haul him up into her arms once again when flames erupted through the open bay of the window, loud and hissing as they bloomed from the handled flamethrower in a soldier’s hands. It was faint, but a shout from you could be heard beyond the building. It urged the child to move toward his guardian.

With the cantina now enflamed, the heat of it cloistering, IG-11 quickly worked on getting the grate broken down for them to slip into the underground tunnels. Din, similarly, realized if you had been able to return, you would’ve.

“You protect the child. I can hold them back long enough for you to escape. Let me have a warrior’s death.” As he said it, Din felt a heaviness in his heart that he wouldn’t get to see you one last time. A silent thanks to the Maker for having chosen to hold you to him not even an hour ago before the fighting broke out. He wished for the feel of your hands on his face, the weight of you leaning into him, the look in your eyes as you gazed into the visor. Just one last time, but the universe was cruel. Stealing him of a last moment with you. “This is the Way.”

As the tip of the flamethrower forced it’s way through the broken door, Cara laid herself over Din, protecting him however she could as a plume of flames was aimed at them. The soldier wielding the weapon barged into the room on heavy steps, raising it to aim at them again, closer and no doubt intending to harm them from such a close range.

But the child. He harnessed what little energy he had from the long stressful night, the too hectic and emotional day and stood to his full stature. He raised his hands as he had seen you do countless times, focusing on the energy around him like you tried to teach him.

The flames inches closer but as they nearly licked at their bodies, air dry and hard to breath in, they stalled. Held at bay as the child maintained his focus and controlled the energy in the very air to prevent them from moving any closer. With a flip of his hands, the soldier was flung back as he tried to mimic the ways in which you would toss people. The flamethrower erupted, unable to handle the combustion of energy thrown its way. As soon as the threat was taken care of, the child plopped down, exhausted. A faint whine leaving him as he looked over to Din, making sure he had done a good job in protecting him.

You were flying into the building the second the explosion had ceased, cape billowing behind you as you slid on your knees beside him, nearly toppling over Din’s collapsed and still form in the process. Cara barely managed to sidestep you, caught off guard by how you nearly threw yourself at the man she had been trying to tend to through the wall of flames. She stood, keeping an eye out the window and crumbling walls in case anyone dared to try and breach the building again.

“Din! I saw you go down, I thought…” You didn’t dare press yourself to him, fear of hurting him further at the front of your mind as you took in the soaked fabric of his cowl and cape around his neck and shoulders. It was saturated with dark, viscous blood. Panic stricken, you reach for his shoulders, the beskar of his pauldrons still cool to the touch despite the fire raging in pockets all around the room.

“San.” He wheezed out, unable to believe that you were right there in front of him. The errant thought of dread as he realized you would be present to watch him die. That you would carry it with you the rest of your own life. And for that, he had regrets. But not in meeting you, not in getting to know you, for you to allow him that privilege.  

“Ner kar’ta, please. We need to see how bad the damage is.” You lifted your hands and placed them on the sides of his helmet, tears burning in the backs of your eyes.

“N-no.” His own hands were trembling as he lifted them to wrap around your own and bring them down to rest atop his chest, the cuirass rising and falling slowly with his wheezing breaths. “Take the pendant, find the covert. Tell them I sent you, tell them about Akiz and ad’ika.”

“No. I’m not leaving you.” They were weak, barely sounding from you as he leaned down to rest your forehead atop his hands holding your own. “We’re not leaving you.”

“You have to. Protect ad’ika, protect yourself. Please, live.”

“Din, I can’t. I can’t leave you. Ner kar’ta, you don’t know what you’re asking.” Lifting your head back up, you tried to look into the visor, vision blurring, the tears finally falling from your lashes to rain hot down your cheeks. He lifted a gloved hand to wipe them from you, his movements weak and stilted. He didn’t surge up nor did he pull you closer toward him, but he cupped the side of your face and whispered to you.

“Ner kar’ta, that’s a new nickname.”

“It’s true.” You whispered back, trying to focus on the sound of his voice, even in its wrecked and wheezing state, devoting it to your memory. You leaned forward and pressed your forehead to the cool beskar of his helmet, eyes clenching shut. “Din, please, let me heal you.”

“You can’t, it’ll take all of your strength and you need it to get ad’ika to safety.”

“Din…”

The collapse of part of the ceiling of the enflamed building made you jump, his own body jostling as it caused the ground to rumble all throughout what was left of the building.

“Go!” His voice was rasping, the volume of his demand cutting through his throat as it projected. His hands pushed you away weakly, a last ditch effort for him to get to you leave him. With tears in your eyes you let him use what strength he had left and shifted your body away from him. Knees creaking with the effort to force yourself to stand, to move away from the man that had come to mean so much to you. To leave him, bloodied and beaten on the verge of death in the wreckage of a building that would become his final resting place.

He coughed wetly, the volume of his voice hurting and straining him even more.

“Come on! It’s open, let’s go!” Karga shouted, not wanting to drag out the moment any longer lest more soldiers find a way through the flames. He disappeared down into the darkness beyond the grate. The droid standing guard on the outside of it.

Cara scooped up the child, ensuring he was safe in her hold before she followed after them. Giving you a moment alone with Din, hoping you would follow behind her. You watched her, ensuring she made it down through the grate with little trouble. Soft words had you wiping back to Din, his hands still gripping your own though his strength was nearly gone.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. Gedet'ye, slanar.”

I love you. Please, go.

His words were a whispered gift, one of the last things he hoped he could provide for you. The phrase cradled in the caress of his low voice, heard over the roaring flames of the fire and the crumbling concrete of the building that slowly closed collapsed around you both. He slid his hands from around yours, urging you to move. It took all of your strength to leave him behind, feeling the shape he had imbedded into your heart aching with every step toward the entrance into the underground tunnels. With a heaving sigh, you entered into the darkness, brows furrowing and expression morphing to school your emotions. Though the tears continued to fall freely.

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[javier-pena]

So ... I recently hit 10,000 followers, which is completely insane to me!! I wish I could thank each and everyone of you who has been here since the beginning or who followed two days ago personally, but that's just not possible. Instead, I'm doing a small request-based fic celebration 🤭

What is it about?

You can choose from a list of characters and a list of prompts (or send in your own) and I will write a (hopefully) short fic (1-3k words) based on your request. You can choose a stand-alone fic or request something that fits into one of my longer stories (Hubris, Triumvirate, In Plain Sight, the Javi G universe). Please send in your requests until April 27!

How to send in your requests?

Please send me an ask (anonymous or not) specifying the following:

Step 1: Do you want your fic to be reader insert?

Please specify the gender (if there is no specification, I will most likely write f!reader, but I might choose something else if I think it fits the prompt). You don't have to choose just one character, you can also choose more, e.g. Javi Gutierrez x f!reader x Dieter Bravo x Agent Whiskey. Your request doesn't have to be reader insert, you can also request a specific dynamic, e.g. Javier Peña x Joel Miller.

Step 2: Do you want your fic to be nsfw?

If you want your fic to be nsfw or if you don't want it to be nsfw please specify this in your request. If you don't, I will write whatever fits the prompt.

Step 3: Is there anything you want me to avoid?

If there are any triggers, themes, character traits etc. you don't want me to include, please tell me. The fics will come with warnings but I wouldn't want to write something you can't/don't want to read for whatever reason.

Step 4: Choose one or more character(s)!

I will write for the following characters. You can send in a different character too, but there is no guarantee I will write your request unless it's another character from the movie/show that's on the list (e.g. Tommy Miller).

Dieter Bravo (The Bubble)

Clint (Freaky Tales)

Jack Daniels/Agent Whiskey (Kingsman: The Golden Circle)

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

Ezra (Prospect)

Lucien Flores (The Uninvited)

Javi Gutierrez (The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent)

Joel Miller (The Last of Us)

Frankie Morales (Triple Frontier)

Arthur Morgan (Red Dead Redemption 2)

Javier Peña (Narcos)

Tess Servopoulos (The Last of Us)

Silva (Strange Way of Life) - I will not write x f!reader for Silva

Dave York (The Equalizer 2)

Step 5: Choose a promt!

You can choose up to three of the following prompts or send in your own.

"Is it okay if I sleep here tonight?"

"And what are you going to do about that?"

"I would love to spoil you, can I do this for you?"

"I can't stop thinking about kissing you."

"I don't like you!" "Finally something we can agree on."

“My tongue still remembers the way you taste.”

“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.”

"Can you just look at me? Please?"

"Don't play with me."

"It's not your choice."

"Please tell me I can touch you."

"Make me beg for it."

"Oh, you're hard to please."

"Let's ruin ourselves for anyone else."

"You're still holding back, just let go."

"I don't want you to say that you love me. Love will not fix anything. It just makes everything more complicated."

"Don't look at me like that." "How am I looking at you?"

"I cannot change my feelings for you, believe me, I fucking tried."

"You knew how I feel about you. You have to have known."

"Don't make me jealous."

"I'm going to be here when you wake up."

"I could make you beg for it." "I would love to see you try."

"I already have a boyfriend." "That's great. Invite him as well."

"It was just a kiss."

"I don't feel like we're close enough to have this type of conversation."

"Oh, jealousy looks good on you."

"Do you still have feelings for me?" "Well, do you still have feelings for me?" "I asked first."

"Three years was not enough to get over you."

"What if someone sees us?"

"You're not my dirty little secret. And I never want you to think that."

"No, I refuse to believe that you would do that to me."

"You're just saying that to be nice. No need to pity me." "What I feel for you is definitely not pity."

Step 6: Have fun!

And if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to message me!