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roseghoul26 · 2 days

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Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Tags: Teasing, Flirting, Developing Relationships, Injury, Kissing, Cunnilingus, Synopsis: It had been apparent from the moment you met him that The Ghoul was Cooper Howard, your favorite actor. He had no idea that you knew who he was, so how could you not have some fun with it? Author’s Note: i’ve watched nothing but bridgerton recently and now i keep finding myself writing the way they speak also i’ve got no clue how radiation and water interact to just pretend what i wrote is true okay? also if you got the notif for the first upload of this fic, no you didn't :) Taglist: @ancientbeing10 @alex-does-art-things

The poster you stood in front of was in remarkable shape, with only hints of discoloration littering the page. The frame that held it had stood the test of time and came out victorious, with only a few scratches across the glass to show for it. A fond smile grew as you read the words emblazoned across it: The Man from Deadhorse.

A man was also pictured riding on the back of his trusted steed, pistol in hand, aiming it toward an unpictured outlaw. A man that you knew to be Cooper Howard, the actor who you’d grown quite fond of during your life in the vault. You’re sure you’ve watched his entire discography or at least all his films that your vault had, which was a significant amount.

So when said actor captured you after being exiled from your vault, albeit a little less human-looking, you couldn’t believe it. It took a second to clock it, but you managed to piece two and two together when you heard him talk and watched how he wielded his gun. Hell, he was still wearing the same clothes from the movie whose poster you stood in front of. It hadn’t been that difficult.

Of course, he had no idea you knew who he was. You didn’t utter a word, not from when he first captured you to when he begrudgingly let you tag alongside him or even when you’d formed a bond. Friends, maybe not, but you trusted each other, and that was enough.

You couldn’t help but admire the man on the poster, if just for a few more moments. Anyone could see that Cooper Howard was handsome, and his charisma added to that. As incredible of an actor as he was, you would admit that you didn’t watch his films just for his skills. He’d been your childhood crush, following you into your teenage years.

And maybe it was still around, lingering at the back of your mind. Perhaps that would explain the butterflies in your stomach whenever you looked at The Ghoul. Even though his face had completely changed, you still believed he was just as handsome as before becoming a ghoul. His charisma and wit had just become sharper, and even though he sneered more than smiled, you still recognized that grin from the movies.

You snuck a glance at your traveling partner, Cooper Howard, The Ghoul. He had yet to see the poster, or maybe he chose to ignore it. Either way, his back was to you, rifling through the desks of the building the two of you had entered. It was becoming evident now that this place was a movie theatre, someplace you thought, until now, they had entirely made up to mess with you in the vault. They knew your love of movies; why not tell you there was a place where you could see them on giant screens?

“You gonna stare at that fuckin’ poster all night, or are ya gonna help me?” So he had chosen to ignore it, then.

You refrained from sighing, not wanting to annoy the man. Instead, you got to work on the other side of the theatre, where a few doors stood. Glancing into the first room, you found it filled with garbage. Literal garbage. Bags were piled from floor to ceiling, and even after all the time that had passed, it still smelled. Holding back a gag, you shut the door as best you could. Gross.

The next door was a little more pleasant. It was a bathroom with three stalls lining the rightmost wall and a few sinks. A first aid kit had been bolted on the wall, and a slight, victorious noise left you when you found two stimpacks, a roll of bandages, and a small canister of water. You quickly deposited those into your bag before continuing to the stalls.

Two were empty, but the third had something in the toilet. When you peered in, you chuckled. A teddy bear sat on the edge, a newspaper in its hands, a pair of broken glasses on its face. No matter how vicious the surface world was, people still managed to find humor in the small things, and you cherished it.

The third and final room was locked, so taking out a bobby pin, you got to work unlocking it. It took you some time, as you weren’t nearly as quick as The Ghoul was, but eventually, the door swung open. Inside was what you presumed to be once an office, a desk with a terminal flush against the wall. A large safe was tucked into the corner, nearly hidden by bookshelves. Grinning at your new prize, you bent down in front of it, pulling the bobby pin and screwdriver back out.

If the door took some time, the safe took even longer. A small pile of broken bobby pins had started to grow at your feet, and your back was beginning to ache from bending over for so long. You could feel that you were close; you just needed to move it a little more to the right…

Snap!

“Motherfucker…” you grumbled under your breath, adding another pin to your collection. The idea of admitting defeat flashed through your mind, but you shook it away. You needed to prove this to yourself.

And to The Ghoul.

You heard the sound of footsteps drawing closer, stopping when they reached the room you were currently in. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was; you could hear his spurs. “The hell is takin’ you so long?” His gruff voice stopped you as you were about to insert another bobby pin.

“This fuckin’ safe,” you sighed, resuming your attempt at lockpicking. Your back was really hurting now, and so you got down onto your knees, which helped a little. The concrete floor was uncomfortable, but sitting offered some respite, and you bent forward, returning to work. You had expected The Ghoul to have already left, so you were startled when you felt him crouch beside you.

His gaze was locked onto the safe when you glanced at him, and he shifted almost nervously beside you. Weird. “Lemme do it.” His tone held no room for argument, yet you still shook your head at him.

“No, I’ve got this.”

“You’re gonna run outta fuckin’ bobby pins before ya open it,” he jabbed, nudging the pile with his foot. You didn’t bother to hide the glare you sent him.

“Then I’ll just take yours.” You were pleasantly surprised when you turned the lock and were met with resistance an inch before it had turned all the way. You were close.

“Oh, I’d like to see ya try, sweetheart.”

“Maybe I already have.” You had shifted the pin to the right and were met resistance way later, and a victorious smile grew on your face. “C’mom, baby, open up for me,” you whispered, voice dangerously low, and you missed the way the man beside you shifted even more.

He didn’t offer any more arguments, and you let out a small laugh when the safe door finally opened. You’d barely gotten a glimpse of the contents inside when you saw a gloved hand sneak inside. You smacked it away, glaring at him. “Open your own fuckin’ safe,” you chastized.

He matched your expression, human-looking eyes glaring daggers into you, but you didn’t let up. It was a quick standoff, but he eventually backed down, not before muttering something under his breath. You didn’t hear what he said, but you didn’t care.

Opening the door further allowed more light in, allowing you to see your prize. A stack of pre-war bills sat on the bottom, and you tucked them into your bag. There was a silver locket, which you also grabbed, knowing you could get some caps for it. A few unlabeled chem bottles were on the top shelf, all added to your bag.

But you were most excited about the revolver tucked behind all the chems. It was heavy, heavier than the pistol on your hip, and in surprisingly good condition. The barrel's metal was mostly unscratched and shiny in the dim light. The wood grip, a deep brown oak, was cool in your hand, and it contrasted beautifully with the steel of the rest of the gun.

You raised a brow when he held a hand out expectantly, moving the gun a bit closer to your chest. “Are you gonna give it back?”

He let out a deep exhale. “Yes,” he responded before making a ‘give me’ motion with his upturned hand.

After some hesitation, you set it in his palm, observing as he tested it in his hand. His expression was difficult to read as he evaluated it, his eyes carefully roaming the gun. You had to bite back a laugh when he raised the gun to the right of him; he looked like he did on the poster you just saw.

You must’ve done a worse job than you thought, holding back your laugh because he was fixing you with another glare. “Sorry,” you began between chuckles, “it’s just… you look like the guy on the poster.”

The Ghoul was good at hiding his emotions, and his face remained unreadable as he glared at you, but you swore you saw a bit of alarm behind the fire in his eyes. “Do I, now?” He asked, seemingly unbothered.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you teased, an idea forming that made you grin. “I’d take it as a compliment, being compared to as handsome a man as Cooper Howard.”

The heat in his stare dimmed, replaced with a hint of surprise. He blinked at you for a moment, unsure what to make of your words. You continued. “What, you thought I watched his movies just for his acting skills?” You were careful not to use the word you, not wanting to let him in on the secret.

When he continued to just watch you, at a loss for words, you finally stood, your back crying out in relief. You stuck out a hand, gesturing to the gun in his hand, and he slowly gave it back to you. “Thank you,” you smiled sweetly at him, your confidence growing at how you managed to stun the man. “I’ll meet you out there. Help yourself to whatever is left in here.” With that, you tuned and left, your sweet smile turning to one of victory.

Unbeknownst to you, the man you’d left in the room had a slight smile on his face before quickly coming to his senses. A groan left him, and he ran a gloved hand over his face as if he could wipe away the heat he felt in his cheeks.

If he could blush, he was sure he would be bright red right now.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

“Why the hell were ya kicked outta your vault, anyway?”

Well, that certainly wasn’t the question you expected to hear today. You glanced behind you at The Ghoul, continuing down the long-since abandoned street the two of you were on. Even though it had been a few months, it still hurt, the wound never fully closing. “Why’d you ask?” You responded after some hesitation.

“Do I gotta have a reason?” He shot back, and you sighed.

“I suppose not,” you agreed before taking a few moments to formulate your answer. “They thought I was a threat to their way of life. I was too inquisitive for my own good, didn’t work well with authority, and constantly challenged said authority.”

“You? Disagreeable? Never.”

“Well, fuck you too,” you huffed, turning away from him. Here you were, telling him about possibly the worst thing that happened in your life, and he was insulting you. Asshole. For a moment, you thought he was being genuinely friendly, wanting to learn about you. You were bitterly disappointed to find the opposite.

A tense silence hung in the air as you continued to walk, not bothering to glance at him. He didn’t deserve your attention right now. Your somewhat positive mood was now ruined, both from having to bring up your past and because of him.

“They really kicked ya out for that?” He finally spoke. It wasn’t an apology, but you could tell it was an attempt at relieving the dispute.

“I think they were afraid I would change everything, and you know there’s nothing vault dwellers hate more than change. Even if change would improve their lives, they’d rather stay with what they know, not wanting to risk losing comfort and familiarity. They just couldn’t wrap their heads around the fact that change is a good thing. I don’t think they ever will.” The words had just tumbled from your mouth, anger making you ramble freely. When you finished, you finally glanced behind you, cringing at yourself.

To your surprise and relief, you didn’t find a look of judgment on his face. Instead, he seemed almost pensive, not expecting to hear you voice your opinions like that.

“Do ya miss it?”

“Fuck no. Even with all its dangers and obstacles, life up here is infinitely better than any life I could’ve had in a vault. At least up here, my life is mine. I make my own choices, for better or for worse. I exist for myself, not to fulfill some corporation’s quota or for some experiment. I am myself.” You let out a sigh. “There is one thing I do miss, though.”

He didn’t respond but nodded, gesturing for you to continue. “I miss the movie room,” you chuckled, almost bittersweet. “It’s silly, I know. But I miss lounging on one of the couches and getting lost in the story.”

“Did ya have a favorite?” He asked, and you swore he was reminiscing a bit as well.

“Oh, plenty. The Wizard of Oz, The Man from Calabasas, and The Silence of the Lambs, to name a few.”

“The Man from Calabasas?”

“Have you seen it?” You knew damn well that he had done more than seen the movie. He had been the lead star of it.

“Somethin’ like that,” The Ghoul muttered in response. “You weren’t kiddin’, were you?”

“About liking Cooper Howard’s movies? No, I certainly was not. Hell, I’d go as far as to say he’s my favorite actor.”

Like always, his expression towards your response was unreadable. “Would ya, now?”

“Uh-huh. I had a crush on him growing up. Maybe I still do,” you laughed lightly, shrugging your shoulders. He faltered a bit, his eyes widening a fraction, and you had to return to facing forward, unable to hide the smirk on your face any longer. It was so fun to tease him. Every time you’d seen a poster with him on it for the past weeks, you were sure to point it out, always commenting on him.

“He’s much older than ya, sweetheart,” he finally responded after some time.

“It wasn’t like I was dating the man,” you laughed. “Not that it would’ve deterred me, though. I always liked them older.”

The man behind you cleared his throat, and when you turned, you saw his eyes locked onto you, his jaw clenched, and a quickly growing fire in his eyes. Oh, this was so much fun. “You got something against that? Not that I’d change my mind based on your opinion.”

“Not a problem at all.” His words were clipped, strained. You halted in your tracks, holstering your gun, the revolver you’d just found a week ago. He cocked his head, watching you closely, stopping a good few feet behind you. His shoulders tensed when you approached him, his jaw never unclenching.

“Everything alright?” You asked, innocence dripping from your words. “You seem… tense.”

“I’m fine,” he bit out. Giving him enough time to stop you as he spoke, you raised your hands to his coat, fixing the crooked lapels. Once they were straight, you ran your hands down them, resting them on his chest. You couldn’t feel it through all of this fabric, and it was quiet enough that you couldn’t hear it, but a small groan rumbled his chest.

“If you say so,” you teased, running your hands up one last time before letting him go. You took a few steps back, glancing around at the dilapidated scenery. “We should probably find shelter soon. Only an hour of sunlight left.”

“I… sure.” You’d never heard him sound so uncertain, completely taken aback by what you had done. A part of you worried that you had taken it a step too far, but you knew the man. He would not have let you touch him if he didn’t want it. As you turned back forward, you failed to see how his eyes trailed down your body hungrily, gloved hands lingering where yours had just been.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Even though the bed was the comfiest thing you’d laid in in months, sleep would not come. No matter how much you tossed, turned, and readjusted, you just could not sleep. It wasn’t like your mind was preoccupied by anything.

Well, that wasn’t true. You’d found your mind wandering to your traveling companion more and more these past weeks since you’d stopped and fixed his jacket right in the middle of the street. You thought he had been more affected than you, but ever since then, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how he felt under your hands and what he’d feel like elsewhere.

With a huff and warm cheeks, you sat up, giving up on falling asleep. Slipping on your shoes, you kept your steps light as you crossed the room and made a pointed effort not to glance at the sleeping silhouette of The Ghoul. Grabbing your gun, you stepped outside, the cool night air doing wonders for your flushed skin.

You sat on the edge of the barely standing porch of the house you were sleeping in. You balanced your gun in your lap, and from the pockets of your jeans, you pulled out a beat-up pack of cigarettes and a barely functioning lighter. It took a few moments for the flame to catch, the clicking noise filling the silent night, but you eventually had a lit cigarette between your lips, the smoke swirling comfortingly around your body.

You felt the wood creak before you heard it, and you whirred around, gun pointing at the new figure behind you. The figure let out a familiar chuckle, and you sighed in relief, putting the gun back down. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” you muttered as you turned back.

The Ghoul sat beside you with a sigh, arms extended behind him. “You’re gonna attract unwanted attention with that,” he muttered, ignoring your previous statement.

“Like you?”

He laughed. “You’d be lucky if the worst you got was me.”

“I suppose,” you conceded. “But your company isn’t exactly… unwelcome.”

He merely hummed in response, and you offered him the cigarette. He eyed it briefly, eyes flicking from it to your face, but he eventually grabbed it. Skin grazed yours, and it almost startled you when you realized he wasn’t wearing gloves, and it felt scandalous to see him without them. Still, you kept your composure, observing him silently as he took a drag.

“Can’t sleep?” You heard him ask after some time, and you shook your head. “Me neither.”

“Sorry if my tossing and turning kept you up.”

“Ain’t your fault,” he sighed, passing the cigarette back to you. “Is… are ya alright?”

He’s been surprising you with the questions lately, and you couldn’t help the slight disbelief on your face, nearly choking on the smoke. “Just a lot on my mind” is what you finally went with. It was not entirely a lie, but it withheld specific details.

He thankfully seemed to clock that you didn’t quite want to talk about it, so he left you in silence, taking the cigarette you passed to him. You both whipped your heads to the left when you heard the sound of something groaning, followed by a few more groans from other entities. Whether it was human or not, you couldn’t tell. He quickly smashed the cigarette under his boot, standing up slowly, hand inching towards his gun.

His other hand extended towards you, and you didn’t give yourself time to second-guess before you interlocked your finger with his, letting him pull you up. You had barely gotten to your feet when he was dragging you inside, nearly making you stumble over the planks of wood sticking up.

Still, both of you managed to get inside quickly, the door being kicked soon shut by him, and you locked it. Peering out the blinds, you saw a horde of ferals shuffle their way down the street, some gathering where you were just sitting. You and The Ghoul probably could’ve bested the group, but you never knew. You noticed out of the corner of your eye that said companion wasn’t looking outside like you were but instead trained on you.

When the horde continued further down the street, you let out a breath before switching your attention to the man. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes scanned over your face, something unreadable in them. You gasped lightly when you felt him squeeze your hand, your fingers interlocked with his. So that’s what was making him act so weird.

A small smile graced your face as you looked down at your intertwined hands, neither of you making any move to pull apart yet. His hands were rougher than you were expecting, and even though you could feel the grooves of his marred skin, his fingertips were incredibly calloused as they rubbed into your skin. It was the most lovely thing you’d ever felt.

You’d never seen him regard something so gently when you looked back up at him. It was like you were catching a glimpse of the man he once was before the war. For a moment, you caught a glimpse of the actor, yet this was no scene from a movie. This moment was real, two lost souls finding some semblance of comfort with each other.

But just as soon as the gentle moment had started, it came to a screeching halt, and The Ghoul took a step back, pulling his hand from yours. You tried not to let it sting, but you couldn’t help the slight hurt in your heart as he backed away. “Good night,” he muttered out, his voice cold.

You simply nodded in response, not trusting your voice, and you heard the receding footsteps of The Ghoul as he marched back towards where he was sleeping. You stayed locked by the door for a good moment, unable to move, and embarrassment and sadness locked you there.

You don’t even remember walking back to your bed. All you remember is that you were suddenly looking up at the ceiling, sleep even further than it was before. You swore you could still feel his hand in yours, the heat from his skin, the texture of his skin beneath your fingers. Sighing, you rolled over on your side, back turned away from where The Ghoul was sleeping.

Sleep didn’t come to you that night, and when you finally got up hours later and saw the way The Ghoul sat hunched over the table, you knew he didn’t sleep either.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

It had been days since that night, and things had been incredibly tense between the two of you since. Hours of travel, once filled with light conversation, were now done in silence. Soft glances were now guarded, lingering touches nonexistent. It was distracting, constantly on your mind, overanalyzing everything you’d done or said to him.

Maybe that distraction was the reason you now sat bleeding out, half lying against an old car, your fingers clutching your stomach uselessly. Blood poured out between your fingers, every breath feeling like you were being stabbed all over again by that Raider. It had been a poorly hidden ambush, yet they still managed to catch you off-guard, your thoughts elsewhere.

It had been fine until you’d gotten cut off from your companion and forced into a small alleyway. You’d managed to take down most of your attackers, but one had gotten lucky with a stab to the stomach. They currently lay dead on the floor as well, shot by your gun, but that had been after they got you.

The sounds of gunfire had ceased about thirty seconds ago, making your ears ring. Or maybe it was the blood loss. You couldn’t tell.

You heard the sound of loud footfalls, and you reached for your gun with a crimson-covered hand, which made it difficult to grasp the weapon. Your arm shook like crazy as you raised your gun, training it on the entrance of the alleyway, waiting as silently as you could. Small gasps of pain kept pouring from your lips, and you blinked back tears.

Relief flooded you when you heard your name being called by The Ghoul, his gruff voice never sounding so lovely. You managed to croak out a response, your arm falling to your lap, unable to hold it up any longer. He called out your name again, even closer this time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond, your energy quickly leaving.

When you saw that familiar silhouette at the entrance, you couldn’t help the small smile on your face despite your incredible pain. He was by your side in a second, or maybe you blacked out for a bit. Everything was so blurry now. You cried out in pain when you felt him press down on your stomach, and you tried to squirm away, but he was much stronger than you.

You sagged against the car, unable to fight him any longer. Your eyes felt heavy, but you tried your hardest to keep them open, especially when The Ghoul practically shook you awake. “You better keep those fuckin’ eyes open,” he snapped, and if you were more conscious, you would’ve been able to detect the panic in his voice.

“Are you threatening me?” You wheezed out.

“If that’s what it takes to keep ya awake, then yes.” You felt cold air hit your stomach as he lifted your shirt, examining the wound. You didn’t look at his expression, not wanting to know how bad it was.

“At least take me out to dinner,” you chuckled before a cough rattled your body. Something warm and sticky fell from your lips, making The Ghoul curse, who hurriedly looked for something in his bag. A small first aid kit clattered to the ground, and you cringed when you saw him pull out a needle and thread.

“After this, I’ll take ya out to as many dinners as ya like,” The Ghoul murmured, and because of how hazy your vision was, you missed how his hands shook as he threaded the needle.

“Is that a promise?” It was starting to get hard to get the words out now, as they were beginning to slur.

“You know I don’t make promises I can’t keep, sweetheart.”

“I love it when you call me sweetheart,” you admitted, unable to stop yourself. Your smile turned into a wince when you felt the needle pierce your skin. He muttered an apology, but you just shook your head and leaned forward slightly as he worked quickly to sew your wound close. It was just close enough that you could see him clearly, and you unabashedly let your eyes roam his face.

Blood loss was kicking in now, and the world was spinning. You tried hard to keep your eyes open but found them fluttering close even more frequently, your head drooping to the car. He shook you gently whenever he felt you do it, promising that he was almost done. “We gotta get this close before I can give ya a stimpack.”

“You’re pretty,” you whispered before almost immediately breaking into laughter.

“And you’ve lost a lot of blood,” The Ghoul shook his head, working diligently.

“I mean it,” you practically pouted. “You’re so pretty.”

“I’m sure I’m quite the fuckin’ catch.”

“You’ve always been a catch,” you teased, and you tried to bring up one of your hands to caress his face, but it fell limply to your lap.

For the first time, his eyes shot up to yours, confusion on his face. But they quickly returned to his work, shaking his head again. “Whatdya mean by that, sweetheart?” He asked, trying to keep you talking. Or maybe he was genuinely curious.

“The entire time I’ve known you, I’ve thought you were beautiful,” the tiniest bit of tension left The Ghoul, “but even before then, I’ve always thought you were the most handsome man I’d ever seen-”

“You don’t mean-”

“Guess that’s why I’ve still got a crush on you,” you sighed, continuing despite his objections. But you didn’t get to see his reaction, the weight on your lids growing unbearable, and you let them fall close, unconsciousness finally claiming you. Your name being said like a plea was the last thing you remembered.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

You weren’t sure how long you were out for. All you know is that the room you woke up in was unfamiliar, and everything in your body hurt. Wincing, you tried to sit up, only to collapse in pain, your stomach in agony. A shadow fell across your face, and through tears, you managed to see the familiar face of The Ghoul above you.

He looked as terrible as you felt, the deep sockets of his eyes somehow even more pronounced. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days, the whites of his eyes bloodshot. His clothes were more rumpled, and he had discarded his hat somewhere in the room. If you weren’t in so much pain, you would’ve asked him why he looked like, well, shit.

His lips moved, but you couldn’t hear the words, your ears ringing too loudly. You fought back when you felt a needle enter your skin, but you relaxed when the pain began to dim like a bright light covered with a blanket; the pain was still there but not nearly as noticeable.

After a few more seconds, your ears finally stopped ringing, the man's gruff voice replacing it. “Just some painkillers,” he explained.

You tried to thank him, but your voice was too dry, and you broke into a coughing fit. With a lot of help from him, you could sit up enough to drink, greedily gulping down the canteen of water that he presented you. Despite your objections, he pulled it away from you when he deemed you had enough.

You were starting to feel more alert now, and your vision was not as fuzzy as it was moments ago. The Ghoul sat in the chair you just noticed beside your bed, a soft sigh leaving him. The room was still unfamiliar, and you realized he had probably just dragged your unconscious body into the closest possible building.

Glancing at him, you watched as he leaned back into his chair, his eyes never leaving your face. His expression was, as always, unreadable, but you couldn’t help but feel like you’d done something wrong. Well, something besides getting stabbed. “How long have I been out for?”

“Almost three days.”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

You gestured to your body. “For saving me.”

In response, he made a vague noise, his arms crossing over his chest. His stare became scrutinizing, and you felt like he was picking you apart. You could feel your heartbeat accelerate, your nerves becoming terrible, yet you forced yourself to hold his gaze.

After what felt like hours of tense silence, he finally spoke. “Whatdya remember?”

“Well, not much, to be honest. I remember getting injured, and then you helped me, and then I passed out.”

“D’ya remember anythin’ you said?”

You furrowed your brows. “No? Did… did I say something bad?” When he didn’t respond, you grew even more worried. “Look, if I said something to offend you-”

“How long have ya known?”

You blinked. “What?”

“How long have ya known who I am?” His voice was surprisingly steady, not leaning towards any particular emotion.

Internally, you were kicking yourself. Of course, you just had to let your secret slip while you were bleeding out. You figured it useless to attempt lying, so you just sighed deeply. “I’ve known since the moment we met,” you confessed.

“So this entire time-”

“Yes.”

The chair creaked, and you jumped when you felt his elbows lean on the edge of your bed. “And ya didn’t fuckin’ think that was important to tell me?”

You leaned as far away from him as you physically could. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed at that, a bitter sound. You felt his fingers creep toward your hand beneath the covers, noticeably bare of gloves. Something dark crossed his features when he made contact, his fingers running along your hand tortuously slowly. You whispered out his name as a question, confused but not against this conversation's direction. “You know my real name, sweetheart. Might as well use it.”

Your throat suddenly became dry, but you didn’t dare reach for the canteen perched in his lap. “Cooper,” a small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, “I thought you’d be… angrier.”

“Oh, I’m fuckin’ pissed.” You saw his eyes flash momentarily, making you want to shrink into a ball and hide. You’d never been on the receiving end of his anger, and you hated it. Or at least that's what you told yourself. “But there’s far more important things on my mind right now.”

“Like what?”

“Like keepin’ ya alive, for example.” His teasing tone turned somber. “You almost bled out.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say. You hadn’t realized how severe the wound you’d gotten was. Tentatively, you lowered the sheet that was around your body, then raised the still bloody shirt that now had a hole in the front. “My poor shirt…”

He scoffed. “Ya got stabbed in the gut, and you’re worried ‘bout your shirt?”

“Do you know how hard it is to find intact clothing up here?” You shook your head before examining the stitched-up gash on your stomach. Well, the once stitched-up gash. Thanks to the magic of stimpacks, he had been able to take out your sutures, leaving behind a barely healed scar across your stomach. You supposed it was a miracle, too, that it hadn’t caused severe damage to any of your intestines. “Thanks, doc.” You tried to jest.

He laughed, but it sounded forced even to you. His gaze locked on where he rubbed your hand, looking like he wanted to say something. “Was… was there anything else?” You asked carefully.

He exhaled sharply, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t respond. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

An exasperated chuckle left him. “Everythin’. Every comment, every tease, every single fuckin’ thing you did that’s kept me awake for nights on end. Did you mean it?” To any other person, the way he re-asked the question would’ve sounded angry, pissed off. But you knew better. There was almost a sense of desperation in his words, his gaze boring into you as he waited for a response.

“I am many things,” you began slowly. “A liar is not one of them. I meant it, every single thing.”

He paused. “Were your words only meant for the man I was?”

“Can they not be for the man you are as well?”

Your words seemed to catch him off-guard. “I guess they can,” he sighed, tilting his head down to break eye contact. Without thinking, you freed your hand from the blanket and his touch, and you gently tugged his chin until he was looking at you again. You were both equally surprised by the action, but you didn’t let yourself back down now. Not when you were so close to what you wanted.

You gave him a moment to pull away from your touch if he was so pleased, and when he didn't, a gentle smile grew on your lips as you adjusted your hand so that you now held the side of his face. It was a stretch to do so, but seeing how he practically melted into your touch was worth it. You wondered how long it had been since someone had held him like this.

“I rather like the man you are,” you admitted softly, your thumb running over his scarred cheek. “The man who put up with my constant teasing. The man who’s become the person I trust the most in this fucked up world. The man who just saved my life.” You sat up slowly, much to the complaint of your stomach and The Ghoul, but you ignored both.

With one arm holding you up, you tugged him forward until he was half on the bed, one leg between your own, the other still firm on the floor. His hands braced on either side of you, face inches from yours as he leaned above you. He was close enough that you could feel his chest rise and fall, now slightly quicker than before.

Human eyes flicked down to your lips, an unspoken question to which you already knew the answer. Instead of speaking, you let your actions do the talking, closing the distance until your lips brushed over his. But you didn’t let them connect. You wanted him to do it, to show you that this was what he wanted.

You heard your name said softly, a mix between a plea and a warning. It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard.

“Cooper,” you sighed in response, and that seemed to do the trick. He finally closed the space between you two, lips surprisingly gentle against yours as he kissed you. It was everything you wanted, and you sighed happily, fingers trailing patterns across his skin.

After a few moments, he pulled away, much to your audible displeasure, and chuckled. “I’m still fuckin’ angry at ya, sweetheart.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” you laughed lightly, “but be mad at me later.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I want you to kiss me again.”

“So fuckin’ needy,” he teased, a slight grin on his lips, but he brought himself back down to your lips. “I like it.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, his lips crashing against yours with noticeably less gentleness. You didn’t resist as the force of it pushed you back gently onto the bed, and your hand fell from his face to the front of his jacket, grabbing a fistful of the material. His lips were almost feverish against yours, a barely contained desperation in the act, and you felt fingers brush against your cheek. They were just as rough as you remembered.

The bed shifted as he finally put his entire body on it, one knee between your legs, the other resting by your hip. One hand still worked to keep himself from resting his whole body weight on you, the other tracing patterns into your skin, just like you had done to him. If he had any reservations left, they no longer existed. The only things on his mind were the way you felt beneath him and the way your lips felt against his.

You gasped when you felt him move down your jaw, down to your neck, kissing and sucking the delicate skin there. No longer able to hold his jacket comfortably, you switched to holding the back of his head, nails scratching lightly against the skin. He practically shuddered, his arm buckling slightly, some of his body weight falling onto your lower body.

A groan of pain tore through you when you felt him press against your stomach. It was almost funny how he seemed to jump off of you, hooded eyes immediately becoming alert. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m sorry-”

“Get back down here,” you practically growled, reaching up for his shirt again. He stopped you, redirecting your hand to the bed, securing it with a firm hand when you tried to break free.

“You’re injured,” he countered, stopping your continued attempts to break free with a look.

“And?”

“And we just got ya stable. I’d be even more fuckin’ pissed if three days of work was all for nothin’.”

“We’ll just be careful, then,” you protested, desire making you irrational. You’d just gotten a taste, but you needed more of him. Hesitancy flashed across his features, making you nervous. “Unless you don’t want to…”

“Oh, I fuckin’ do,” he chuckled. “But I ain’t doin’ anythin’ to ya until you’re healed.”

“Anything? Not even a kiss?”

He sighed, shaking his head, but his face had a fond expression. “You’re difficult, ya know that?”

“I’ve been told,” you laughed. “So is that a ‘no’, then?”

You had to stop yourself from laughing when he kissed you. When he pulled away, he rested his head against yours. “There. Satisfied?”

Far from it. “For now,” you sighed, lying comfortably on the bed. Now that you didn’t have anything exciting in your near future, exhaustion slowly began to creep back in, making you yawn. He chuckled, moving to get up, but you halted him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Lay with me? Please?”

You could tell that he was ready to argue against it, but he relented. With a smile, you were able to roll over to one of the sides of the bed with limited amounts of pain, giving him enough room to squeeze in behind you. Immediately, you felt one of his arms tuck beneath the pillow, the other resting on your hip, being careful to avoid your injury.

With his front pressed against your back, you let your eyes fall close, much less violently than previously. Your breathing eventually evened out, and you let your body fully relax against him. He must’ve thought you were asleep because you felt him brush away any hair that covered your face, and even though you couldn’t see him, you knew he was observing you.

You manage to be still when his lips grazed the shell of your ear, a featherlight kiss, and his following words were just as light. “I’m glad you’re alright, sweetheart.”

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

You couldn’t believe the sight in front of you.

You’d accidentally stumbled upon it, traveling a little too far off the beaten path, but you were so glad you did. In front of you were scattered pools of water, about six total, ranging from five to twenty feet across. Steam billowed off the top of the pools, the water bubbling by some unseen force, disturbing the clear water's surface. Set into rust-red stone, you couldn’t tell how deep the pools were, but you were eager to find out.

Stepping toward the edge of one of the larger pools, the rational part of your brain finally kicked in, and you took out your Geiger counter. You expected to hear the annoying ticking noise that accompanied said pools of water but were surprised when it remained silent.

After checking it a few more times to be sure, you sat back on your heels, debating. It was then you finally heard the footfalls of your companions, huffing in annoyance because you ran off on him. “The hell ya doin’?” He asked, wary of how close you sat next to the water.

“There’s no radiation!” You called back, glancing behind at him. “At least not enough to be a problem!”

The Ghoul crouched beside you, glancing from you to the pools of water. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Look!” You returned the counter to the water’s surface and received the same results.

He hummed curiously. “This must’ve formed after the bombs.”

“What is it?”

“They’re hot springs,” he responded like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “Stick your hand in it.”

Cautiously, you let your fingers dip beneath the water's surface and were startled to find it quite warm. A small laugh left you as you pulled your fingers out, wiping your hands on your pants. “Are they safe?”

“Well, sayin’ as there isn’t any radiation, and no creature can live in waters like this, I’d say so.” He had just gotten the words out before you stood again, toeing off your ragged shoes and socks. “The hell you doin’?” He asked again, bewildered by your actions.

Your bag hit the rocks with a thud right next to your shoes. “I’m getting in,” you stated, leaving no room for argument. “I’m filthy, sweaty, gross, and I desperately need a bath. You see any other options around?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Turn around if you don’t wanna see me get undressed.” Your gunbelt and armor were next to join the ground, close enough to the edge that you could grab it if you’d like.

“And if I wanna see?” he asked when your hands reached the hem of your shirt, still partially stained from the event the week before, a hastily sewed-on patch on the front.

You finally glanced down at him, and he watched you with rapt attention. “Well,” you laughed lightly, “then enjoy the show.” Your shirt was off in one movement, joining the pile on the ground. You didn’t bother to look at the new scar on your stomach, which had become significantly less painful over the past week.

You knew you were toying with something dangerous, a line the two of you had been dancing on over the past week. Things hadn’t gone beyond kissing and lingering touches, and you were ready for more. You wanted more, and if the way he seemed to restrain himself each time he kissed you, you knew he felt the same.

Your jeans were next, leaving you in only your undergarments. He was utterly transfixed, excitement visible on his face as you reached for the clasp of your bra. It had been weird; over the past week, you felt like he was becoming better at not hiding his expressions. Or you were getting better at reading him.

You playfully threw the garment at him when it slid off your shoulders, obstructing his view momentarily. During that, you let your underwear slide down your legs, and you kicked it off your ankles, letting it join the pile. For a moment, you let his eyes hungrily roam your body before submerging yourself beneath the water’s surface. It was just deep enough that you could stand, and your head and shoulders were free, letting you breathe freely.

The sound you made when the hot water met your skin was unintentionally filthy, a mix between a moan and a curse. “Fuck, that feels good,” you laughed airily. The water was nearly unbearably hot, but you quickly grew acclimated.

Leaning back, you let your head submerge beneath the water, wetting your hair. At this angle, you could see him still, stunned, and still crouched by the water. Grinning, you adjusted back upright before reaching him, resting your arms on the rock face, and you rested your chin on them, looking up at him. “Are you getting in as well?”

That question broke him out of the semi-trance he was in, and he shook his head, much to your displeasure. “Someone’s gotta keep watch,” he grumbled.

“You’re no fun.”

“Is that so?”

You nodded. “C’mon, just for a little bit.”

“Sweetheart, you and I both know that if I get in there, it won’t be for ‘a little bit’.”

“And that’s a problem because…?”

He shook his head again but removed his gloves, making your grin wider. Backing away from the edge, you watched his hat come off next, then his gunbelt and coat. When he reached the buttons of his shirt, he paused, glancing into your eager eyes. “Turn around,” he requested, and you responded with a confused glance. “Do ya want me in there or not?”

You were still confused, but not wanting to push his comfort, you complied, distracting yourself from the scenery around you. It was hard to hear over the rolling water, but you listened to the sound of clothing hitting the rocks, making your breath hitch in excitement. Anticipation made your skin crawl, although not unpleasantly, and you waited for the sound of water splashing as he joined you.

But after a moment passed and you were met with just the continued sound of bubbles, you shifted nervously yet didn’t dare look back. Time seemed to crawl on agonizingly slow, your breaths turning shallow. You nearly screamed when you felt an arm wrap around your midsection, still mindful of the injury, but relaxed almost immediately when the familiar timbre of his voice hit your ears. “Not even a peek, I’m impressed.”

“Is it truly that shocking that I can follow directions?” You scoffed, letting him ease you against his now bare chest. The contact was blissful, and you sighed out in content. “Can I turn around now?”

He made a noise of consideration before resting his head on your shoulder. When he spoke next, it was almost straight into your ear. “In a moment. Lemme hold ya for a bit longer.”

When he received no objections from you, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. His other arm joined with the other, keeping your body wrapped up in his arms. It was a bit of an awkward angle, but you managed to reach around to hold the back of his head gently. You could feel him smile lightly when your nails scratched lightly.

“So, how’d you figure it out?”

It took a few moments of wracking your brain until you finally realized what he was talking about. “We’re having this conversation now?”

“Don’t see any better time. Besides, ya can’t run away from the questions now.” It was true; over the past week, you’d found an excuse not to answer his questions, finding something else to do as an excuse. Now it looked like he had you right where he wanted.

Groaning, you hung your head, much to the amusement of him. “It was your voice, mainly,” you admitted. “When I first heard it, I thought I was just reaching. Then, it just clicked after watching the way you wield your gun, the way you carry yourself, everything. You even look a bit the same,” you chuckled.

“And you thought the best thing to do next was to fuckin’ tease me?”

“You have to admit, it was kinda funny.”

You felt his shoulders shake, a light chuckle leaving him. “I ain’t admitting to nothin’, sweetheart.”

“Are you still upset about it?”

“Not for the reason you’re thinkin’.”

That piqued your curiosity. “Oh?”

“I wished ya told me sooner because I wouldn’t have had to wait this long to do this.” His arms tightened the tiniest amount around you. “D’you know how hard it's been these past weeks, months, haivn’ to bite my tongue every time you make one those comments, those touches.”

“Months?”

“That’s how long it’s been since we met, right?”

Shocked laughter left you, and you tried to turn in his arms. You could only get halfway around before his grip stopped you, but you had turned enough so that you could look at him. You weren’t expecting him to look so confident about his response; the muscles of his brow raised like he was daring you to say something. “You’ve wanted me for-”

“Since the moment ya stumbled into me that night.”

“You tried to kill me.”

He shrugged. “Still knew that I wanted ya.”

“How… romantic,” you scoffed.

“And they say romance is dead.”

“You did promise to take me out to dinner.”

“Out of everythin’ from that conversation, that’s the fuckin’ thing you remember?” You felt his arm go lax for a second, but that was all you needed. Turning, you finally were facing him, your chest pressed into him, making him groan appreciatively. Your arms wrapped around his neck in an embrace, and you felt his hands begin to trail up your back. One settled on your ribs, the other continued up to the base of your neck, brushing your hairline.

Any words you were about to say fell short when you felt him scratch lightly, a choked noise leaving you at the action, your body shivering. Your mind went blank, and he just chuckled knowingly. His fingers ran up even more, your body reacting similarly, and you both knew the conversation was over for now.

You gasped when you felt him grab a fist of your hair and pull back; it was not rough enough to be incredibly painful, but it still stung a bit. But it wasn’t like you could feel the pain anyway, your desire being far more powerful. He leaned down into your space, face hovering above yours as he tilted yours back. “What, cat got your tongue?” He teased you for your sudden silence, which was uncharacteristic.

“Fuck you,” you managed to whisper, making him laugh.

“We’ll get there, sweetheart.”

His lips were on yours before you could respond, your senses now overwhelmed with him. His other hand wasn’t shy, grabbing and kneading at every piece of skin it could find, making you groan against his mouth.

You laughed when you began to feel him back up to the edge of the pool, barely able to keep up with his eager movements. But you were confused when you felt his hands grip your waist and lift you so that you were now sitting on the rock edge. It was a warm day, but even the warm air wasn’t enough to stop you from shivering from the temperature difference. “I thought we were supposed to be getting clean,” you tried to protest.

It didn’t even cross your mind that your entire body was exposed to him now, and if you did remember, you doubted you’d even care. Not with how his eyes roamed your body like he was trying to memorize every inch of you. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling them apart so he could stand between them. He stood level with the base of your throat, wasting no time before he lavished it with kisses and bites.

“We can do it after,” he murmured against your skin. “I need to fuckin’ taste ya, Now.”

Involuntarily, your legs tightened around his body at his words, laughing lightly in shock. You don’t think you’d ever had a partner so eager to go down on you. “Cooper-”

“I fuckin’ love hearin’ you say my name. I bet ya sound even better screamin’ it.” His lips had moved down to your breasts, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs.

You tried not to think too much about the implications of his words. And you tried even harder not to let your body react any further, not wanting to fan the flame of his ego anymore. But you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t enjoying his cockiness. “Is that a promise?” You echoed the question from the previous week.

You felt him smirk. “I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” A soft nip made you jump slightly, and he soothed over the hurt with his tongue. “Lie back, sweetheart.”

Excitement and arousal buzzed in your veins, and you required no further encouragement before you were resting back on your elbows, unable to feel the stone beneath you. He pulled away when you leaned back, something almost like pride in his eyes at how easily you complied.

He adjusted your legs so that they now rested on his shoulders, the heels of your feet resting on his back. It gave him perfect access to your center, and between your thighs, you saw how his eyes turned impossibly dark. They flicked to you one last time, looking for any hesitation, before leaning forward until you felt his breath caress the sensitive area.

But he didn’t make contact where you wanted. Instead, you felt his lips ghost the insides of your thighs, teasing you. Groaning, you tried to close the distance with a roll of your hips, but he shut that down quickly. His hands no longer held your thighs open. Instead, they were splayed across your hips, keeping you pinned down to the rocks as he continued his light touches.

You’d forgotten how strong he was, and you found yourself unable to move your hips any longer, rendered completely still by him. You didn’t have to see him to know he was loving tormenting you, inching closer and closer to where he knew you desperately wanted him. “I thought you said you needed to taste me,” you reminded him, and repeating his filthy words made you warm.

“I know what I said,” he breathed. “Consider this payback for the weeks of fuckin’ torture you’ve put me through.” A frustrated noise left you, and you tried to move away, but to no avail. Teeth dragged against your skin, up towards your center, halting right before reaching it. “You don’t get to run off on me now, sweetheart. You’re gonna take what I give ya.”

“Cooper, please.”

“As amazin’ as you sound beggin’, you ain’t gettin’ what you want that easy.” One of the hands holding you down moved up, calloused fingers grasping at your breast, making you whine. If you thought that because he let up one of his hands, you’d be able to move your hips freely, you thought wrong. All you could do was lay there and comply, much to his evident enjoyment.

You’re not sure how long you sat there, time crawling on tortuously slow, as he continued to tease and rile you up. Occasionally, you felt his lips ghost over where you wanted him, and you’d think he was finally having mercy on you. But when he passed over, too light to provide any relief, you knew he was just working you up more. No matter how much you pleaded or begged, he didn’t relent, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

But he was only human, and he, too, had a limit to his patience. It broke when the hand groping your breasts snuck between your legs, fingers spreading you open. His breath hitched when he saw the evidence of your arousal. He sighed, an air of finality in the sound.

“Oh, fuck this,” you heard him growl before his mouth was finally on you. Startled but oh so relieved, a jumble of words left your mouth, a mix of his name and curses. His tongue swept through you desperately, face burrowed deep between your thighs, a groan tearing from his lips as he finally tasted you.

He was incessant, addicted now that he’d gotten a taste. Your thighs tightened around his head as he ate you out, but he didn’t seem to mind. It almost seemed to urge him on, knowing he was making you feel that good. He still had a hand holding you down, the one between your legs teasing at your entrance, making your eyes flutter close.

When his tongue began to focus on your clit, you could barely keep yourself propped up any longer, and your arms started to shake. Desperate for something to hold on to, you grasped at the hand on your waist. He adjusted so that his forearm now pinned you, leaving his hand free for you to grab, which you did eagerly. It would’ve been funny how the two actions juxtaposed each other if he wasn’t making you see stars.

His name was being said like a mantra, turning more and more breathy as pleasure began to build. It turned louder when you felt one of his fingers ease into you, and you could feel the various groves of his skin, all adding to the stimulation you felt. Slowly, he began to pump it in and out of you, his mouth continuing to toy with your clit. Peeling your eyes open, you dared to glance down at him, gasping lightly when you found him looking at you.

He looked so eager, so hungry, his pupils blown out with lust as he watched you slowly begin to fall apart. You were caught in a trance, unable to look away from him anymore. Not that you’d want to look away from such a glorious sight.

Keeping your gazes locked when you felt a second finger join became a challenge. The tension that he had so beautifully wound up inside you was on the verge of snapping, your breathing growing faster as you neared your release. You didn’t have to say anything to him; it seemed like he knew your body as well as you did. As he moved his fingers, you felt him crook his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion, making you cry out.

Your thighs around his head begin to shake, your heels digging into his back almost painfully. You were so close, your grip turning vice-like on his hand. It was when you felt his lips latch onto your clit and suck when you finally fell apart. You had no idea how loudly you cried out his name, the sound of your ears ringing blocking out any other noise. White-hot pleasure washed over your body, your one arm finally going boneless beneath you, your back hitting the rock.

It took a few moments of deep breaths to get your heart under control, the ringing in your ears becoming background noise. You didn’t have the energy to prop yourself up yet, so you just strained your neck until you could look at him. He was still between your thighs, fingers having been withdrawn, but he continued to lap at your release. You could feel the smirk on his face when you made eye contact.

Overstimulation quickly made itself known, and with a groan, you finally sat yourself up. Easing your legs off of him, he still didn’t let up, and so with a half-hearted shove, you backed him up. He didn’t stay away long, helping your back towards the edge of the rock, lips once again making contact with your throat. His hands caressed your body, but he didn’t do more than touch, giving you a few more moments to recover. “Told ya I’d make you scream,” he muttered, making you scoff.

“I wasn’t that loud.” Was I?

“Scared off a few birds.” He laughed when you slapped his shoulder in mock offense, making him look up. “Ouch,” he deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes, shaky hands grabbing the sides of his face and bringing it close to yours. You snuck a quick kiss to his lips, but even though it was short, you could still taste yourself on it. It made your head spin, and you offered no objects as he tugged you into the water, the temperature shock making you gasp.

You’d barely gotten your footing before he was on you, all lips and teeth against your skin. Hands skated down your slides, beneath your thighs, tugging one of them up until it wrapped around his body. You gasped when you felt his hard length press against you, and you rocked your hips eagerly. It got the response you wanted, a groan of your name leaving his lips.

“C’mon, Cooper,” you gasped, hands grasping his shoulders, bracing yourself. “C’mon baby, let me feel you.”

An almost pained noise left his lips before he thrust into you, the mix of your arousal and the water around you allowing him to enter with ease. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, setting a brutal pace almost immediately, his hips snapping up into you. Your nails dug into his scarred skin, and once the initial shock wore off, moans tumbled from your lips.

Water splashed up because of the movement, hitting the rocks, but neither of you paid any mind. How could you, when he was fucking you like it was the only thing he could do, wanted to do? His hand remained on your thigh, helping keep your leg propped up. His other hand held the side of your face, your mouth hung open and panting, and he pulled you in for a messy kiss.

His tongue swept into your open mouth as if he owned it, a groan leaving you at the filthy act. There was so much happening, and like before, you could do nothing but just let it happen, reciprocating as best you could with soft noises and touches.

A particularly hard thrust left you gasping, breaking away from the kiss, choosing to just rest your head against his. Pleasure blossomed across your body, and you felt that familiar tension return. Sneaking a hand between your legs beneath the water, you began to rub at yourself, making you clench around him.

“Hands up,” you barely managed to hear him hiss through a groan. “Keep those hands on me, sweetheart.”

You complied, returning your touch to his shoulders, but your lost additional pleasure was only momentary. His hand replaced yours, nimble fingers working you as well as you could, maybe even better. His fingers moved in slow, hard circles, a complete contrast to the rapid movement of his hips. The two different sensations drove you wild, your breathing coming out as short, hot pants.

You could feel yourself getting close, and you knew he could feel it. The movement of his hips had turned more desperate about thirty seconds ago, and you knew he was close as well. Running your hands up his neck, you pulled his face against yours when they reached his jaw, on the verge of bruising your lips with how aggressively you smashed them against his. “Cooper, I’m so close,” you whispered between kisses.

“Cum for me, sweetheart, fuckin’ fall apart.” You couldn’t tell if he was asking or pleading, but you would fulfill his request either way.

It took a few more presses of his fingers and snaps of his hips until you came, shouting his name like you’d done before. You could barely see through the haze the satisfactory smirk on his lips, pleasure once again washing over your body. Every muscle in your body tensed, and that smirk immediately fell from his lips, turning into an almost scowl as he staved off his own release. “Where-”

“Inside.” You didn’t have to hear the whole question to know what he was asking.

For the first time, he moaned, too caught up in his own pleasure to care. “Fuck, you gonna let me fill ya?” A small laugh of disbelief left him when you nodded. “Goddamn…” His words trailed off as he chased his release, the continued thrusts of his hips bordering on overstimulation. But you didn’t have to wait long, because with a much quieter groan of your name, his hips stilled, and you felt his release seep into you.

For a moment, the two of you just held each other, catching your breaths. Your body felt like it was on fire, a mix of pleasure and the hot water around you, yet you made no move to leave, not wanting this moment to be over yet.

Slowly, his hand let go of your leg, and even though the water helped ease the irritated muscle, you still let out a noise of discomfort. He eased out of you then as well, leaving you feeling empty. Some part of you feared that he would push you away next, but a relieved smile appeared on your face when he tugged you into his arms, a surprisingly gentle kiss placed on top of your damp head.

“You alright?” You don’t think you’d ever heard him so soft, so genuine, and knowing it was aimed at you nearly brought tears to your eyes.

Too many emotions swirled in your chest, and instead of facing them and the discomfort they could bring, you resorted to humor. “I’m surprised you lasted that long, Cooper Howard. You being an old man, after all.”

“Oh, I’ll fuckin’ show ya old, sweetheart.”

#cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #fallout tv series #fallout prime #fallout show

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saneabandoned · 3 days

Text

Diving into Star Wars: The Clone Wars

“Good soldiers follow orders.”

This seems to encapsulate the whole seven seasons of the series Star Wars: The Clone Wars. If you haven’t seen it, haven’t heard of it – in short, it’s an animated series set between Episode II and III of the prequel saga. However, the aim of this is not to be a guide – you can go to Wookiepedia for that; this is supposed to be an essay – analysis, some kind of a deeper-ish dive into the philosophy and meaning of the series, that frankly is one of the best things to happen to this film universe, perhaps ever. I have, time and again, tried to explain for myself the meaning it carries and just why it has me in such a strong chokehold, but I have failed, or at least haven’t reached a conclusion. Maybe it’s not possible, maybe it’s just the magic of being a fan – you see and feel things not everyone would understand, because it speaks to you on some personal level, that even some (more chill than me, at least) fans won’t be able to entirely relate to. I have yet to meet a person as obsessive as I am over all kinds of different media – don’t get me wrong, even though Star Wars is without a doubt my favourite universe, there are many more I have indulged in, wrote about, watched, listened, theorized and all that good stuff throughout many years. But as I have recently come to realize, I have spent the last ten-ish years of my (not that long, to be fair) conscious life thinking about this universe, this whole galaxy (pun absolutely intended) of characters, morals, and plots.

Speaking about morals, that’s where some of the importance of The Clone Wars comes for me personally. Ever since I can remember, Star Wars has been a huge deal in my life – I watched the movies at a very young age (thanks, mom!), but started reading more and more into the whole world as I got older. I thought I’d reached the peak somewhere in high school when I would literally rewatch the prequels every single weekend, and the OG movies about once a month too. I just found it mesmerising, I always have – being a person with a huge imagination, that never quite stops working (and that’s caused me some trouble as well), I found a haven in this world, a place where nothing is too weird, everything is just so brilliantly imagined and thought of, written and painted so vividly, that it feels like someone has taken the insides of my brain, turned them into a whole painting, adding stories, characters and just overall putting into words and pictures the things that I can’t really understand and explain for myself. I found a mirror in this world, a sanctuary for all my thoughts. I used to listen to the soundtracks whenever I felt anxious, and it would transport me directly into the universe I felt so safe in. It was an escape from reality; still is – not that reality was or is particularly scary or unbearable for me; but sometimes I wish I was elsewhere; somewhere where there is courage, bravery, adventure, love, all the things I longed for while being quite honestly, mostly a bored teenager at school.

I have always loved writing, loved expressing my thoughts, putting them into words (as is becoming obvious by this text) and have always greatly appreciated when films, books or other media would reciprocate that – when the words on the screen or the page would feel like I wrote them myself, so true, so real, so incredibly close to me, that I would get literal shivers and wonder if telepathy is actually possible. But hey, that’s The Force for you!

As of now, I have just finished completely rewatching the whole Clone Wars series and as always, I have many thoughts on it. The first time I watched it was right after the final season came out because at that time, and especially during the pandemic, I was going deeper than ever into my interests, rewatching all my favourite things, while also searching for new ones to keep me from going absolutely insane (I think I maybe have succeeded in the opposite though). So, stumbling across this series, I thought I’d give it a try. The rest is history – after absolutely and hungrily devouring it, I continued to Rebels, and every other possible piece of media under the sun. Fabulous times.

Now, one thing I’d like to make clear – I’m not a pro. I am not in any way a certified critic, a writer, or any other sort of person authorised to make such an analysis. I am but a fan, a fan for whom this universe means more than I could ever hope to be able to put into words; a fan who after years of contemplation, has reached a point where I can’t keep it inside any longer. I’d love if this piece of writing makes it out in the universe, reaches as many people who enjoy Star Wars as much as I do, but even if not, I am writing it for myself, I am trying to step out of my comfort zone, reach deep into myself, and in a life of struggling with the loudness of my thoughts, trying to put something down, manifesting my emotions and creating something physical from them; these characters that mean so much to me will never be real, I can never hope to speak to them, touch them, or see them in real life. They have although shaped me as a person and largely formed my psyche and morals, view of the world, inner monologue, even some of my characteristics.

So nevertheless, for me they are more real than a lot of people I know are.

***

To begin, I don’t intend to focus on the Jedi’s role in the war – it is of course vital, but I think the discourse about that is to be found more detailed in relation to the movies, namely the prequels, as CW is very much about the clones themselves. When I first started watching it, I will be honest, I didn’t think I’d find what I ended up finding – and that is such depth that I couldn’t imagine finding again, after being a fan of the movies, both OG and prequels, for so long. But was I wrong!

But let’s start with Ahsoka, since I started by mentioning the Jedi and she is one of the first new characters to appear (besides Rex and many others, of course). First, I wasn’t convinced that I liked her much – she was a bit of an annoying youngling for the first few seasons, after all. I wanted Anakin and that’s about it. Well, I got what I wanted, I think, as I am firm in my opinion that Anakin’s arc is so widely explored that you get a whole another view of his character, something I didn’t think was possible, after all – isn’t the entire saga about him? It is, but still – what I saw in CW, through characters such as Ahsoka and Rex, contributed so much to Anakin’s development as a character and leading force in the saga as I don’t think anything else ever did in the movies, any of them. So, yes, I got what I wanted, but also, I got so much more – Anakin is not my main point of discussion here, I think as main of a character he might be in this series, he is not THE main one, at least not for me. And as Dave Filoni is quoted saying – The Clone Wars is about Ahsoka and Rex.

Who are they? That was my main wonder when I first started watching – why would I care about a random clone captain and a youngling? They are both not present in the movies, and the clones themselves have very little personality there, they are just side characters, until they end up executing Order 66, which is of course devastating. But after watching CW, I completely changed my outlook on it, but more on that later. So, Ahsoka and Rex – admittedly, in the beginning, I didn’t find that much since it’s just mainly classic Star Wars battles and a loose plot that is not absolutely VITAL to the end result but brings so much deeper insight into the clones’ personalities, and ultimately through that to the whole feel.

What I really find devastating about this series is the nagging feeling of doom you inevitably carry with you – you spend so many episodes and seasons watching your favourite characters win numerous battles, you root for them, you cry and laugh with them, you grow so attached to them; but you know how the story ends, you’ve seen Anakin become Vader, again you know about Order 66, you know the Empire rises after all and Palpatine’s plan works – and every time you hear someone say “you’re going to lose this war”, you hope for the opposite, but you know they’re right and there’s nothing to be done – evil wins in the end of this. And as I read somewhere – this is a story that happened a long time ago – it’s over, it has already happened, there is no hope, at least in this series, which I find frankly terrifying. Amazingly done, but still heartbreaking.

Clones, war, and choices

The point about choices and what it means to be a soldier gradually becomes more and more pronounced as the show goes on – one amazing example of this is the Umbara arc where the 501st is led not as usual by Anakin, but by Pong Krell (who later turns out to be a traitor of course). This is one of the darkest moments in the show, as clones are made to kill one another, to sacrifice themselves without reason, and for the first time to face an incompetent, and frankly evil general, and to choose to disobey. This is for me a crucial moment, as the clones have never before chosen to disobey direct orders – they were, after all, made to comply and to follow what their generals tell them to.

"I used to believe that being a good soldier meant doing everything they told you. That's how they engineered us. But we're not droids. We're not programmed. You have to learn to make your own decisions."

But here, we can see the conflict – especially in Rex, as he is the captain and has to face the general and answer for his deeds. He looks him directly in the eye and tells him they are not willing to go on a suicide mission, that they will not follow his orders, after he’s made them fight and kill their brothers unknowingly, and even ordered Fives and Jesse to be executed. However, Rex struggles with killing Krell, when he decides to; he orders him to kneel and points the blaster at his back but is unable to fire the shot. Once again, Star Wars proves that its plot has much deeper nuances and philosophies; for the first time here, we are faced with the harsh truth – the clones are people. We know that, but it somehow gets lost in the movies, as the focus there is on the Jedi’s end, which is just as tragic, of course. But before now, no one has considered what it really means to be a clone. They were made for war, they were made to die, their lives and their deaths were planned. Are the Jedi and the Republic, in that case, really the “good” side? That’s what I, at least, started to reflect on when I reached this point in the series, and it changed my whole outlook on the saga, on everything I have seen thus far. Yes, I still think the Jedi are cool and whatnot – but did they not deserve what happened to them for so blindly exploiting their soldiers? They didn’t know about Order 66 of course, and Palpatine is in no way right – but how come the Jedi are innocent in this? I don’t think they are, at least not fully. They could’ve stopped so much suffering and helped so many more clones, if not for their narrow views, which are all the reason for the clones’ suffering, Ahsoka’s leaving and consequently, Anakin’s betrayal.

"Sometimes in war, it's hard to be the one that survives."

Oh, Cody, Co-dy! The friendship the clones and in this case – Rex and Cody – share is truly precious and very accentuated in this arc especially (here the first arc of the last season) – it is Cody who Rex confides in about not wanting to lose any more brothers, as he knows he is one of the few ones who will understand him fully, what it means to be a soldier, to have to live with the morals of war, to have never known anything but loss. This is what makes Rex dive and slightly recklessly (thank God) search for Echo, proving that he’s alive, saving him from the tortures. They are brothers, and they never leave their own behind. But he is not possessive or jealous, and when he senses Echo’s pull towards Clone Force 99, he is ready to give him the push he needs to join them. He knows his brothers, as I said, and he knows the trials of war, so if Echo will feel even an ounce happier with this squad, he deserves it, after all he’s endured – “If that’s where you feel your place is, then that's where you belong."

Therefore, I love the Skako Minor arc and Echo’s retrieval, not only because it sets up the ground for The Bad Batch (I’m not even going to begin trying to explain what it means to me, as it deserves to have another huge debate on its own), but because it shows Rex’s devotion to his brothers – all of them. Even though he tries to be just a soldier, to live through the deaths, he still cares immensely, and that’s what makes him a good captain. His bravery is unmatched, he is always the one leading his men, and looking out for them, because he knows his men, he stands and fights side by side with them, and he’s ready to die on the battlefield, thus setting the example for everyone.

The philosophy of war is extremely complicated – this is what I enjoyed so much about the series (and the movies of course, politics and war is the main theme), among all other things; the fact that we see war as destroying, as a necessary evil, as a tragedy by itself – but war also created life in this case and its ending brought much more death than any of the battles ever did.

"The mission... the nightmares. They're finally... over."

I’m sorry, but I think I have never witnessed anything as remotely tragic as Fives’ arc – Palpatine told only him the whole truth, fully knowing no one would believe the clone hasn’t lost his mind; but the sacrifice the trooper made ultimately saved so many lives, mostly Rex’s, one of his closest friends. Fives never got to reunite with Echo but losing him made Rex realise how important every brother is to him, and in consequence, he never gave up on any of them (not that he was inclined to do so before of course). In his last sane moment, Rex begged Ahsoka to “find Fives”, and she understood. She knew the clones better than anyone and knew exactly what that meant and never doubted it for a second. Fives saved her life, too.

Fives’ arc is the first time the show begins to become darker and more sombre – it is also the point when we as spectators begin to realize what Order 66 actually means, having seen before only its results; but this time we see its execution, through the eyes of the clones themselves. They are forced to kill all Jedi, after being their most loyal soldiers, and honestly – incredibly loyal friends as well. They can’t control it and it’s not their choice – but that doesn’t mean they don’t realize what they’re doing – Rex said he couldn’t help it; Wrecker said he tried to fight it (The Bad Batch); Bly shot Aayla so many times, so she wouldn’t suffer and her death would be quick; Cody didn’t even check if Obi-Wan was dead; Wolffe didn’t kill Plo Koon. They were people, they were made to do inhumane things, but they found a way, they made a choice, so that they could somehow live with it after.

We get all of this through the clones’ perspective, rather than the Jedi, and it’s just as painful, if not more – we are used to hearing “the army betrayed its generals”, but what happens when we realise, they couldn’t do anything about it? What happens when we see the struggle, when we can almost feel the pain of having to betray? The clones, the most loyal creatures ever created, made for loyalty, have to turn on their generals, on their comrades, on their closest friends.

So, I come back to Ahsoka and Rex. We see them in the very first moment of the show, and they have already formed a bond, which is unlike anything else. They fight side by side the whole war – from the battle of Christophsis to the Siege of Mandalore – and Dave Filoni is truly right when he says this show is about them; but I think also in a broader sense. It is about two creatures who were destined to fight all their lives, who no matter their completely opposite backgrounds, turned out to be the same things – soldiers. Through and through, in their own ways. Their friendship transcends beyond all of this, they have a unique connection, that’s never shaken, even in the direst of moments; even years later, when they meet (in Rebels), you can feel their love for one another, the purest friendship there ever was, somehow ironically created by the ugliness of war and constant fight. Both Rex and Ahsoka suffered losses we cannot imagine – Rex says he tries not to hold on to any of his brothers, and Ahsoka is a Jedi, so it is forbidden for her to form such attachments; but we know. We see it in their eyes, we can hear it when they speak. Rex can never forget Fives’ death and the fact that he died thinking no one believed him; he ran to Skako Minor in an instant even though it might have been a trap, but the chance to save Echo was not one he was going to miss out on this time. And he saved his brother, against all odds. And he saved Ahsoka, as she saved him, time and again. Because that's what brothers do.

“I’m no Jedi” – an interesting phrase for Ahsoka and Rex to have in common, given how different both their roles and backgrounds seem to be, but it is indeed the one they unexpectedly share. Spoken first by Rex here, and then a lot later by Ahsoka in Rebels, it is highly unprovable that it’s on purpose. However, I don’t think anything in Star Wars is done without a reason, so I choose to believe there is some thread connecting them – after all it is Rex and Ahsoka, and that will always matter. What it means for both of them is simultaneously the same, yet different – Rex is the clone closest to the Jedi, there is no doubt about this; he’s used to their ways, he has as equally as strong a moral code, so it is somehow thinly implied that he acts similar to them, despite (or thanks to) being one of the strongest and most respected clone leaders. His closeness to both his general and commander is widely known, so no one seems to pay attention to the fact that he is actually a clone, as he makes his own decisions, and often chooses to fight where a Jedi would opt to step back.

Ahsoka and Anakin

For me Ahsoka became the best character in the whole saga, no ounce of doubt, sorry. She is the embodiment of the Force, she is fierce, loyal, but also incredibly wise for someone her age, and someone who is still learning. On many an occasion, she proves to be more experienced than Anakin (and in my book, experience outranks everything) and I feel like he’s learned as much from her as she did from him – if not more. She is the one keeping him sane and grounded, and I’m a firm believer that had she not left the order, he wouldn’t turn. Ahsoka’s presence brings so many new layers to Anakin’s character, that have not been explored before that and had she stood by him, he wouldn’t be able to become what he became. So, yes – ultimately, I blame the Jedi order for Anakin’s betrayal, I always have, but after watching this series, and seeing it from another point of view, I simply cannot be shaken. They took everything from him and left him alone, which has always been his weakest – he has always been this little child, terrified by the dark, later consumed by it, now unable to fight it anymore. The Jedi made him, and they unmade him too. In my opinion, he shouldn’t have ever been a Jedi in the first place – he is not like Obi-Wan, not like Yoda, not even like Ahsoka (who is not the traditional Jedi either, being trained by him) – he is so powerful and so weak at the same time, and that’s where his dilemma lays – who am I? Which side am I on? He doesn’t know, but no one is there to help him – Ahsoka included, as she (rightfully so!) leaves the order when she sees the truth about it. But she carries that guilt ever since.

She blames herself for leaving Anakin, she blames herself for not fighting alongside him when he needed it; for leaving her friend, her brother. If I were Ahsoka, I would have done the same – she was betrayed by the Jedi, not by Anakin, not ever, but still. He stood with the Order when she needed him by her side. And that is what destroys him too. The loss of his padawan, his most loyal friend is unlike anything else, and for her, leaving this life that’s all she’s ever known, transforms her view on everything. And when she inevitably returns, because that’s where she is supposed to be in order for the prophecy to happen – she must be there, but not by Anakin’s side; she doesn’t fit anywhere else, but she doesn’t fit there anymore either; and she can’t follow him, so she’s sent to Mandalore, again alongside the clones, her brothers, she goes down fighting with Rex. She’s always been his sister more than a Jedi; she didn’t ever belong anywhere else but on a battlefield. She may not be a clone, and she wasn’t meant to be a soldier either; but just like the clones, the war is all she’s ever known, and even though she was meant to be a peacekeeper, peace was something she never knew, especially after Anakin’s turn to the Dark side – even though there is no longer a war, she is forever tormented by the voices she heard in his last moments as her beloved master and the pain she felt when he left.

She knew it was over in that moment – Order 66 is by far the most heartbreaking arc of them all and I can never watch it without then spending weeks thinking about it – it’s genius, really, how Palpatine had this evil plan, dictated the whole war without anyone noticing; and it worked. It worked and changed the whole entire galaxy, and nothing could have prevented it – except maybe Anakin turning; and that is what Ahsoka can’t get over; she feels it is somehow partially her fault that the dark won; if only she hadn’t left, it haunts her forever. She doesn’t know Anakin is Vader, not until she meets him after, so she thinks he’s dead like the rest of the Jedi – and when she finds out what truly happened to him, she passes out (in Rebels; another terrific moment) because the pain is just too strong – the mixture of his known presence in the Force, and his new persona, that is torn from pain and suffering, feelings so intense and unknown to her she can’t understand them. It’s not her master, but it is undeniably Anakin. And he feels abandoned, he feels alone, he is guilty and sad and in constant pain, he is no longer there, not really, but then – he is. And the memory of what he once was, what he promised, everything he taught his padawan brings such pain for Ahsoka.

She may not think she is truly a Jedi, yet she is for me the only one of them I came to respect – she is never hypocritical, doesn’t leave anyone behind, not ever, and she fights for good, always for what she deems right, never feeling like she has to change for others, but in the end always blaming herself for their fate. She could never forgive herself for what happened to Anakin, and she can never forget her brothers, the clones, she suffers and grieves for every one of them, she knows their names, they were her whole world. And the only thing she had left, because they never judged and never tried to change her, they simply stood by her. Even when they had orders to kill her.

Rex and Order 66

Ahsoka’s master was gone from that moment on, and all she had left was Rex. The other main character, and I accept no objections to that statement. Rex is... the best one ever. He is, without any doubt, my favourite from this series. Putting aside my Ahsoka obsession, I didn’t expect to grow as attached to him as I did. Then again, I can’t separate them – for me, they are a team, the best one, and I don’t think I would have liked them as much had they not been the amazing pair they are. The connection between Rex and Ahsoka is what makes this series so different and so much better than the movies for me. It shows a level of true depth and caring that we haven’t really seen before – the type of platonic trust that few people find in their real lives. If I get to have just one friend that is as loyal, I don’t think I’d need anything more. Their story is so real, so touching and beautiful and sad – I think it is not only the best one in the series, but in the whole saga, and in any storyworld, really, for me personally. They meet a kid and a soldier, but they leave the war (or maybe the war leaves them) as equals, friends bound by experiences so unique and traumatic that they can never forget them, their bond can never be destroyed. They are soulmates, and they are forever. I don’t make the rules, sorry.

"Well, I've known no other way. Gives us clones all a mixed feeling about the war. Many people wish it had never happened, but without it, we wouldn't exist.”

Rex says this to Ahsoka moments before he is forced to execute Order 66 and it makes me shudder every time I hear it. Knowing what follows, knowing that the clones that have been created for war, are humans with so much more nuanced feelings that they let themselves express, that they fear the war ending as much as others might feel a war beginning is incredibly twisted. They are not machines, they are much more than that, they have feelings, and they have morals, and they are afraid. Rex has never doubted his loyalty to his commanders, and never gave any reason to be doubted – never hesitated, never showed anything less than immense courage and skill. But now he stands before the only person he’s never been able to deceive, and he voices for the first time what probably has been torturing him for a while – the knowledge that he is expendable, that his life might be over, and that this might be what he’s always fought for – the end of himself and his brothers. Victory and death, indeed.

Viewers have witnessed many a clone death, and these last episodes are the culmination of it all – from that point on, every favourite character is in danger. Of themselves. One thing that the series does marvellously is bring personality to so many seemingly identical characters – in the movies we never get any detail about their lives, their characteristics, even their looks – but now I could recognize Fives from Echo in a second; they might have the same features and the same voice, but they are not the same. They are brothers, forged by the same essence, they share the same blood and the same heart, but they are individuals with thoughts and passions so diverse it’s impossible not to notice, not to adore.

Rex is Ahsoka’s best friend, as she reassures him moments before everything went to hell. He is the man who stood and fought by her side, and who watched her grow up. Who, when faced with the order to kill her, removes and drops his helmet in a desperate try to fight Order 66 (perhaps unconsciously, as he is being mind-controlled), and so she could see his eyes, see his tears, his struggle, his shaking, and know that he had no choice, know that on some level, he is asking for help for the first time ever, the soldier he is – he removes his helmet so he could look her in the eyes, his best friend, his sister, his commander; and she knows.

She’d ran to him, when sensing there was something wrong – of course, Ahsoka would run to Rex, because he’s Rex, he’ll know exactly what to say and what to do, and maybe he could contact somebody who can fix this; this can’t be real, the war is almost over; she’s still a child after all, she can’t face this now, not alone, not without Rex. She’s never had to face anything without Rex, it’s just unimaginable – but she runs to him and in his eyes she sees someone who is not Rex at all, and suddenly all the men she trusted with her life more times than she can count, are not the men she knows, and they want to hurt her, and Rex wants to hurt her, even though it makes him suffer. She sees his tears; she feels in him what she never believed she would.

The parallels in their relationship are just amazing – one of their first interactions is when Rex says to her “good luck, kid” on their first ever mission together – and it shows just how much he already cares for her, how he understands that beneath all her witty remarks and wish to prove herself to her new master (and his soldiers!), she is still a kid thrown on a battlefield – an unnatural atmosphere for anyone, but especially for a young child with no experience whatsoever. From then on, they just keep getting closer and their friendship grows stronger until it reaches a point where they can understand each other without even speaking.

“Yeah, kid, I’m okay”, Rex says, moments after Ahsoka has removed his inhibitor chip and essentially saved both their lives, all while putting herself at a great risk, just because she cares and she can’t do this on her own. In this moment, in his eyes, she is again the kid he first saw, scared about her friend, trying to prove that she can do it all on her own – this parallel is so important to me; she has never been in such a situation alone before, because she’s always had Rex, and now she’d almost lost him, after just reuniting with him; when for a split second there was something in his eyes that she’d never seen before, the only thing that saved her was Anakin and Rex’s training (shown in Tales of the Jedi). Anakin taught her how to fight enemies much stronger than herself, her brothers taught her how to defend herself, not knowing that she’d ever have to, especially not against them. It’s truly heartbreaking.

“Ahsoka, it’s all of us” – just seconds after she has saved him, Rex looks her in the eyes and apologizes for almost doing the undoable, for almost killing her, for being okay when she almost wasn’t. How would he ever live with himself, knowing that he betrayed his best friend? The animation has developed so much by this point, that in this last episode, it’s almost like watching real people acting, at least that’s how I’ve always felt; it feels real, the emotion is just so intense and so palpable – especially with this being the first time Rex says her name. She is his friend, she is the only one who cared enough to save him, thus saving herself, proving again and again her loyalty, the thing they have most in common. They understand each other like no one else can, they have been through everything together, and now, in these crucial moments, they have both proven it – she never gave up on him, she trusted him enough to save him, and in return, he is ready to follow her anywhere and die protecting her. From his own men. Barely awake, he’d reached for his blasters, shooting his own brothers to protect her, not even fully conscious yet. They are equal, they have become one through the Force, and if it wasn’t clear before, it is now – they are sticking together to the very end, no matter what they must do, no matter how. They are forever. Loyalty means everything to the clones.

This and what follows on the bridge of the ship as it’s coming down, are my favourite scenes from the series.

“I hate to tell you this, but they don’t care! This ship is going down, and those soldiers, my brothers are willing to die and take you and me along with them!”

Even though it’s animated, even though you can’t see his face, and the only thing is his desperate voice, you can feel the devastation when Rex utters these words, touching his chest, as he says “brothers” – he has always cared for them, his family, and has mourned every single loss, but now, when there is no other choice, he knows protecting Ahsoka is the most important thing there is – the mind-controlled clones can’t tell apart their own from a traitor, so what’s the point?

There is always a right choice – and Ahsoka proves it, when she gently removes his helmet, only to show what everyone but also no one suspected – Rex is crying, he is afraid and in pain, and she is the only thing he cares about. He’s lost so much; he can’t lose her too. But she always has a plan, and she is probably the only one who cares about the clones as much as him; they don’t need to explain themselves; she doesn’t want to be the one who is responsible for so much death; there’s been too much already. They have lived a life of war, facing death and loss every single day, and enough is enough. She wants to live, but not at the cost of murder. There is no doubt in her voice when she says that.

Burying brothers

What follows is truly devastating to watch – Rex facing his brothers, as a traitor in their eyes, as some of them stand before him, still wearing their helmets with Ahsoka’s Togruta design on them, the colours of the 501st closely resembling her lekku. They’d painted their armour as soon as they knew Ahsoka was coming back to them and they were getting their commander, and little sister back, their best friend, the only one who cares enough to remember all their names, who never turned her back on them, even now, when they are against her, she still tries to save as many of them as possible; she’s been the one whose hand they’ve reached to when dying, their last memory on this world her face, her bright eyes, full of life and care, her presence calming them in the face of the inevitable, as she will have to do now as fell, at the very end.

How must it feel to lose everything you’ve fought and hoped for, in a span of hours? Palpatine’s plan is truly ingenious. The war might have ended, but only on the outside; a much larger, much more painful fight has begun, inside, for Rex and Ahsoka, who now have to navigate a life they haven’t ever considered; they may have wondered what life after the war might be like, but not like this, never like this; not as heroes, not even as fighters – as traitors in the eyes of their most beloved brothers and the new control of the Empire. But they choose to fight until the end, crashing down, falling with the cruiser together, hand in hand; the parallel of them hanging on to each other in the hanger is precisely mirroring the moment of Anakin and Obi-Wan trying to push each other away during their legendary fight on Mustafar, which is happening at the exact same time. But these two don’t let go, they simply cannot face losing each other, not now, not after all of this. They’ve fought for years, so many battles, losing track of what the fights are about – but this last one is clear; they are fighting for each other. And when they are the only survivors, they take to bury their brothers, and grieve the colossal loss side by side, silently watching, because there aren’t words to describe what they feel, and it’s not necessary, so they don’t speak. They know.

"I don’t want to bury any more of our brothers."

The devastation and sheer exasperation we hear in Rex’s voice when he says this much later, in The Bad Batch, when talking about the inhibitor chips nonetheless, is all we’ll ever need to know about him. Laying low after the end of the war, separating from Ahsoka, believed to be dead; in fact – being dead to the world in every sense, this is the choice he makes. He’s witnessed almost all his closest friends dying, he’s lost his general, he doesn’t have a purpose and a goal anymore; he has to deal with the realization that the war is over, but it ended at way too high a price, and he’s a soldier – he will fight every day, until the end, because it’s all he knows. He’s the most loyal soldier, survived Order 66 at the highest price there could ever be, and he can’t lose more. He wants to keep fighting, and he will, but not to lose. Rex doesn’t want to feel this awful feeling of loss, not ever again.

The same goes for Ahsoka – even though she quits the order and never officially finishes her training, the Jedi life is the only one she’s ever known, so her path even after leaving, after the war ends, and after she separates from Rex, is one lead by the code to a large extent, even if done so unconsciously. She claims to not be a Jedi when she faces her master as Vader in Rebels, wanting to avenge him; but she doesn’t end up doing it, she can’t possibly kill Anakin. So, she goes on, living in this middle ground – she is not truly a Jedi, but what else could she be? She has led her troops in many battles, fought by their side; even when they didn’t have to, they still called her commander, as loyal to her as ever; recognizing that she stood by them, even held them as they died.

When The Resolute crashes after Order 66, we are aware that her and Rex took every single one of their fallen brothers, buried them, and displayed their helmets, putting Jesse at the very front, the one who’d wanted to kill them the most at the end. But they know better, it was not him, not after literal moments before that he almost went insane from Maul’s questioning because he didn’t want to betray Ahsoka; he deserved a recognition, even in death. Every single one of them did, and Rex and Ahsoka gave it to them. She lets go now of her lightsaber, the Jedi weapon that bears her identity, and lays it to rest next to the fallen soldiers, because she doesn’t want to have any more connections to this war, there’s been enough fighting. She dies here too – for what it’s worth, she fell with the clones. I can’t imagine how traumatising and terrible it felt, pulling body after body out of the debris. For both of them.

Brother after brother.

***

No matter what I say, or how much I write, I don’t think I will ever be able to express properly what this world and this series in particular mean to me. Of course I love all things Star Wars, but The Clone Wars will always hold a very special and exceptional place among them. It is a unique feeling, one I cannot put a word on, it feels too big for me, as if there is some kind of a boundary that is at the verge of explosion, it’s holding so much emotion, and there isn’t enough space for it inside. Perhaps it’s the depth and the exploration of the clones, their relationships, the empathy their lives evoke – creatures bred for war, individuals barely recognized in life. But still human, as Rex and Ahsoka remind us of the entire time – especially when we see them watching the arranged helmets of their dead brothers – the clones have not been just pawns, they are people; people who died for a cause they couldn’t have any say in. Their lives were not their own; but Ahsoka’s life wasn’t her own either. This is the tragedy of The Clone Wars, but there’s also an ironic beauty about it – Ahsoka wouldn’t have had her master or her best friend, if it wasn’t for the war. It’s a story about the philosophy of choice, hope, good and evil of course, friendship and loyalty. Victory and its highest cost, death; the consequences after a life spent fighting, which no one usually thinks about.

When the final shot rolls and we see Vader’s ominous figure step on to the same place where Ahsoka and Rex were last, as he digs his apprentice’s lightsaber and holds it, we realize what the moral of the story is. We see Anakin’s eyes behind Vader’s mask, and we feel the cold he feels – he ended up alone after all, after all his trying, he had an army, he led troopers, he cared for an apprentice, but he lost them all. He won the war, but he would rather have died with his friends – who he doesn’t know are still alive, and they don’t know what happened to him either; instead of being their enemy. But the time for choosing is over, and there is no going back for him now.

His reflection hits the clone helmet, and we see the image of Anakin, walking away from Ahsoka and Rex.

It doesn’t end with the war; it begins with it.

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