What the #?*!

And just like that, the cruel gleam lighted in his eyes again, paired with a manic sort of smile. Ashe’s heart plunged and raced all at once, but she set her jaw and raised her chin in defiance. Her mind was moving faster than she could keep up with - she wouldn’t allow it, Kalt would stay the fuck away. She knew the assassin was right, she knew she couldn’t kill him, and he knew it too. And gods, she wouldn’t even consider it, she couldn’t. She curled her lip back to tell him that he was not to touch Alistair, not to go near him, but he was stepping back and out of her grasp, leaving her with empty, bloody hands. She set her jaw and leveled a glare at him, but then? Then every single part of her 3went very, very still.    No. No, no, no, she couldn’t remember, didn’t want to - she wouldn’t, think about it. Her breath grew rapid and shallow as she took her own step back and away from Kalt, away from the fury and those words, these things she had worked so hard to keep far away from herself - Do you remember them touching you, taking from you? She nearly heaved right then and there as her ears started ringing. She didn’t want to, but Kalt slammed a mighty grip on those memories she refused to acknowledge but for when she slept, and he jerked them forward without mercy.    Ashe shuddered visibly and took another step back, but her knee wobbled under her weight. Rapidly she was starting to not feel herself and too much all at once. Aware of each and every over sensitive part of her skin that didn’t feel like her own. She didn’t wanted it to be her own. That X was a jarring reminder, and she swore she could smell burned flesh, but… just one time. One time. The other scars. All those other scars. She was shaking her head and she finally ripped her eyes away from Kalt, had to. She turned away from him as she struggled for breath, feet that she couldn’t feel carrying her forward as she shoved her fingers roughly into her hair.    Shut up, shut up, shut up! she wanted to yell, but even her magic seemed to waver and flicker out, her voice following. It was only at the tremble in his voice that she turned her head to look up at him with wide, distant eyes. You were a fucking kid. She stopped breathing, and her shoulders caved inwards. A kid. A kid. She’d been thirteen. Her hands dropped down to wrap her arms around her center, holding herself together as every part of her threatened to crumble apart. Her fingers pulled and dug into her skin, as if she could tear it all away herself.    The raven-haired girl had been through many atrocities in her young life. Countless. The moments of peace, of any kind of happiness? Those had been so rare, rare enough that they stuck out like stars against a black sky. A vast, unending, darkness. Her life was smothered by it, so much of it carefully avoided in her head. But this…    How can you be so okay with the man you gave yourself to wearing the face of the man who would have raped you if you had been just a little less than his favorite weapon?    Something within Ashe cracked. Fractured. Her breath choked out of her, and she dropped her eyes down. The world sounded muffled she realized distantly, but she could hear her own heart loud and clear. ”Alistair isn’t… he..he wouldn’t,” her voice didn’t feel like her own, didn’t sound like her own. Her head was spinning as she tried to gulp down air, but there wasn’t enough of it. Looking around the kitchen.. suddenly nothing felt real. Like some kind of dream, and she would wake up the brutal cruelty of Guild. ”I never..” She couldn’t form any words. She couldn’t breath - she didn’t want to think about it, couldn’t, couldn’t, could not - couldn’t feel her own clothing that rasped against her skin now, it wasn’t soft fabric from worn training clothes, it was smooth hands that felt so inhuman she felt.    Her hands dug harshly, painfully into her sides as she clenched her teeth, her back to Kalt. Kalt. How many times had he saved her one more night? She didn’t realize she wasn’t truly breathing until she tried to speak and only a shallow gasp came out. She was going to be sick. She was going to collapse into blackness with the way her head spun. She was going to run, and run, an run. How could she be okay with the man she gave herself to wearing the face of the man who would have raped her if she had been just a little bit worse at killing people? ”I never told him. He doesn’t know the things I did for Master,” she finally choked out. ”No one does.” The moment she said the words, she felt whatever it was that had cracked in her split open entirely… and her breath evened out.    She’d never acknowledged it out loud before. Not once.    The room spun. She stopped feeling herself, she wasn’t in herself, everything she was diving down, and down, and down, fleeing this - this.. whatever this was. The vile, rotting pit in her chest where all of this festered, where her soul was eaten bit by bit for all the things she had done, had allowed. She blinked slowly as her breath swept out from her lungs, and her grip on her sides went slack - she couldn’t feel her fingers anymore. Everything stopped. She stopped being, entirely. ”He knew about the mask, few other things, but not - “ she broke off and had to lift the back of her hand to her mouth all of a sudden, and a single hand braced her against the counter as she leaned forward. She breathed through the urge to empty her stomach. She just kept hollow eyes left on the table. ”I can't,” she said in a hollow, distant tone. ashe Isn't it strange that love is in the way? It never goes away.