#but then you follow your heart. you were given freedom in life so why not decide to try and date people not on your level

[sammydem0n64]

I love lingering when it comes to introducing oc story and lore because ohh oh ohhhhh it’s fun seeing reactions to plot points and discussing them and what not. But it’s also scary because I won’t like it if I’m judged for a story direction because people don’t like a character or smth. But also who caresssss I call it a jumpscare to see horrible people fully comprehend that they’re horrible and try to fix themselves and build themself from the ground up. I call it that fucked up people can realize their wrongs and change themselves for the better. I call it nuance. I call it look at these ocs boy

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 179 }

company.

academy arc

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

{ let's end each other's lonely nights | be each other's paradise | need a picture for my frame | someone to share my reign… }

you walked to school in the early hours of the morning, simply looking down at the novel you were reading in your hand. a smile paints your features the more you basked and read each scene, and as you were in the midst of turning the page, you felt a strange sensation creeping up on you-

the sensation of being followed.

your steps begin to slow just then, unaware of the large hand that reaches out to you-

as sung jinwoo lets out a rich chuckle of your name, wrapping an arm around you as he brings you closer to the front of his chest.

“morning, angel.” he purrs into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you give him a playful pout, lightly pushing yourself away from him.

you missed the lost expression seen in his gaze the moment you pulled away from him, trying to calm down your racing heart as you smoothed down the skirt of your uniform.

with a cough, you put your novel back within the confines of your bag, choosing instead to walk side-by-side with jinwoo to school.

you and jinwoo had a special relationship-

this didn’t mean that you two were a couple or anything, oh no.

what you meant was that you still had memories of another life with jinwoo…

where you and him were both hunters, taking on raids while supporting each other throughout it all.

jinwoo was your best friend during those times; he helped train you, a mere b-rank hunter, making you more proficient in your raids as you slowly rose up the ranks, given you freedom to attend more high level raids despite never being able to level up like he could.

your memories became a little hazy after the war, and once jinwoo used the cup of reincarnation one last time-

you found yourself being 14 again, living with your parents and little brother in your humble home. perhaps what came as the most shocking to you was how you retained all of your memories.

which was why you felt so happy when you and jinwoo ended up going to the same high school together. he was a great source of comfort during the times when memories of your past life became too much to bear.

ah, but you were getting ahead of yourself-

you’ve since then gotten better at dealing with the hardships of your past life, even getting the tiniest bit upset when jinwoo admitted to taking on all the monarchs on his own, spending a total of 27 years within some strange, dimensional rift. you knew that he had won the war all on his own while telling you how he succeeded his mission, now living his life as a normal human despite how truly godlike he was.

jinwoo’s knuckles were suddenly felt being gently placed against the top of your head. “you’re dozing off again.”

“what? i am not dozing off, woowoo.”

a blush immediately paints his features when you refer to him by that stupid nickname. “h-hey, that nickname is dumb as hell, and that’s not even how you pronounce my name! the ‘woo’ in ‘jinwoo’ is more subtle than that, like a soft ~u.”

“heh, whatever, woowoo…!”

you giggle when his eyes flash purple in annoyance, running to catch up to you, but all while hiding his grin.

you would never know the depths of his feelings for you, and that fact alone was killing the shadow monarch on the inside.

{ … }

you and jinwoo end up enjoying lunch together back in the classroom, with you taking casual sips of your juice.

“so do you have track practice today?”

jinwoo takes a rice ball from your lunch box as you stole a piece of his bulgogi beef. “yeah, i do.”

“hehe, did you want me to hang out with you on the field?”

a soft smile paints jinwoo’s features, “if you don’t mind, then yeah. i could use your company.”

a teasing grin paints your expression, “you still trying to get with cha hae-in?”

jinwoo chokes on his rice ball, “w-what the- you know about that?!”

“what? it’s so obvious that you’re still into her! want me to look her up and give you her number or something?”

you giggle in response, basking in jinwoo’s embarrassed expression. you recall how jinwoo was pretty much dating cha hae-in in the original timeline, and they were truly such a cute couple in your eyes!

two of the most renowned s-rank hunters taking on high level gates, never once failing their missions or goals. because of jinwoo’s blossoming romance, you, being simply labeled as his best friend, took a step back and gave them the space they needed in order to let their romance bloom.

and now, with time going backwards due to jinwoo’s actions, you were certain he was going to try and capture her heart once more, leaving you more than willing to play as his wingwoman once more.

despite your playful words, jinwoo appeared uncomfortable, shifting his rice around his lunch box with his chopsticks, eyebrows furrowed in response. noticing the change in his demeanor, you softly ask him, “are you okay?”

your question snaps him out of his reveries. “i’m fine. here, you can have the rest of my lunch… i’ll be right back.”

you could tell something was wrong with jinwoo, watching as he stood up a bit too fast for your liking when you stop him, allowing your hand to wrap around his wrist. “wait, where are you going?”

he looks down at you with gentle grey eyes, allowing the pad of his thumb to grace at your cheek as he wiped away an imaginary stain. after that simple touch, he points to your empty juice bottle.

“i was going to get you more juice. are you opposed to it?”

your eyes go wide, but you shook your head in response. “no, i don’t mind it.”

jinwoo gives you a nod, shaking your grip off of his wrist, leaving you utterly confused as you kept staring at his quickly retreating form.

“how strange…” you look down at your shadow, seeing a few, glowing purple eyes glancing back at you.

at least he still wanted to protect you-

even when you knew you did something to upset him.

{ … }

jinwoo told you he didn’t mind you watching him at practice-

but you didn’t feel like your presence was warranted after upsetting him at lunch earlier. so, you hid out at the library, working on some assignments while doing your readings for your classes. you had thoughts about going home first, but deep down, you knew that avoiding jinwoo wouldn’t help with making this whole situation any better.

as you were writing, you immediately became aware of the shadow looming over you, a pair of solemn, glowing violet eyes staring down at you with a neutral expression.

“why didn’t you join me at practice?”

you tremble a bit, detecting the accusation in jinwoo’s voice as you let out a sigh.

“how could i join you when you’re mad at me?” you whisper back at him.

hearing his scoff tones down your anxieties the tiniest bit, and you felt your shoulders visibly relax at the sound of it. you finally gather the courage to meet his gaze, seeing jinwoo leaning closer to you while placing a hand on the table.

he was dressed in his track uniform, consisting of a purple and white shirt with matching shorts. he taps the top of his sneakers against the linoleum floors, giving you a nice view of his muscular calves.

you were ready to tease him about it, your lips puckered up as a low whistle escapes from them when jinwoo suddenly wraps an arm around the back of your head.

your words die against your throat, eyes going wide when your face was pressed directly against jinwoo’s chest. he runs his fingers through your hair, a pained whisper heard coming from him when he asks,

“do you really not feel a single thing from me? am i doomed to remain just friends with you in this timeline, too?”

your mouth goes dry when you hear his question, and you were uncertain as to how to respond to him. you felt your lips open and close, yet still, not a single syllable would come out.

jinwoo lets out a disappointed ‘tsk’ then, shoving you away from him as he gazes down at you with a neutral look. “forget about it. just… forget about it.”

you watch helplessly when jinwoo picks up his duffel bag and backpack, facing away from you as your heart clenched painfully in response.

if you didn’t stop him now, then you’d lose him forever.

shoving back your chair with such intensity that it nearly falls to the ground, you grab jinwoo’s wrist once more. his eyes go wide, and you catch his shocked expression momentarily before standing on the tip of your toes to fully kiss him.

his reaction was immediate- instinctive even when he wraps his arms around your back, bringing you achingly closer to him all while deepening the kiss.

you lost track of time, uncertain of how many kisses you shared when you finally found the strength to pull away from him. he keeps both of his arms wrapped tightly around you, purple eyes gazing down at you in amusement and love, all while running his hands through your hair.

“i… i always thought that you always deserved a girl like cha hae-in… because, well, you know… she was pretty powerful… and gorgeous, too.”

jinwoo scoffs at your admission, but remains quiet, wishing for you to go on and explain yourself.

“that’s why, i kept all my feelings hidden for you.” unable to meet his gaze, you play with the front of his shirt, smoothing the fabric while picking away at the imaginary lint. “i always figured you deserved better than me-“

“tch, stop.”

jinwoo then gently pulls you back by your hair, eyes becoming more passionate when he crashes his lips against yours. you could only whimper in response to his sudden kiss, hands remaining curled up against his chest as jinwoo presses you even closer to him.

he pulls away first, lightly panting before admitting to you, “please… i never wanted hae-in… but you were so determined to set us up that neither one of us knew what to do.”

you blink up at him in complete shock. “what…? but, she had such a huge crush on you…?!”

jinwoo chuckles all while tracing the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip. “well yeah… she liked me, but that didn’t mean that i liked her. how could i like her when i already had you?”

your head was spinning, yet despite it all, you couldn’t stop the smile from forming. “eh? but didn’t you say you wanted to join track to meet her someday?”

jinwoo lets out a huff, bringing your frame into his chest once more before coming clean to you. “forgive me and my poor attempts at making you jealous. joining track was just an excuse, really.”

his admission finally earns bouts of laughter from you, feeling so relieved and happy that your feelings were requited after all. after spending a few more minutes in each other’s embrace, jinwoo gives your body one last squeeze before pulling away from you, giving your forehead a gentle kiss.

“how about i walk back home with you, then, we can talk about our plans for our upcoming first date.”

you giggle, watching as jinwoo packs up your notebooks and assignments before carrying your bag for you, giving you a lovesick expression while you cling on to his side.

perhaps dreams do come true after all…

a.n. - this is so self indulgent, but oh so much fun to write! (/ω＼)

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[yanderecrazysie]

Dude, if you do crossovers. Imagine that one headcanon scenario with Kageyama where reader kept dating boys that look like him and after scaring off her last boyfriend, a year later she started dating Haru.

kuudere (yandere) vs tsundere (yandere)

Title: Rival

Pairings: Kageyama Tobio x Reader, Nanase Haruka x Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Rival

/noun/

one of two or more striving to reach or obtain something that only one can possess

Kageyama thought he had taken care of your problem.

You had a certain habit of picking the same sort of guys- tall, dark-haired, handsome, and rarely showing emotion. Kageyama fit all of that to a T, yet you had the nerve to turn him down.

It had all come to a head when your latest boyfriend noticed Kageyama following you both home. He and Kageyama got into a fist fight- one that your boyfriend most definitely did not win.

You had given up on dating completely for about a year now.

So what were you doing with him? That emotionally-constipated swimmer boy?

Nanase Haruka was a perfect example of your type. He swam through life with an aloof, detached expression. Where Kageyama was the star setter of the volleyball team, Haru was the star freestyle swimmer on the swim team.

Haru’s calm, collected personality had drawn you in, maybe because he was such a stark contrast to Kageyama’s fiery possessiveness. Where Kageyama was fire, Haru was water and, most unfortunately, water almost always won against fire.

Kageyama had watched the two of you meet at the university pool. At first, he had been caught up in admiring your swimsuit-clad form. Then, he realized that you were talking with someone who fit your type a little too well.

Kageyama knew everything about you, so he was not surprised when you announced to the world that you were dating Haru, with a social media post of you slinging your arms around his neck. He was angry, yes- furious even, but not surprised.

He began to see Haru turning possessive, not allowing you to speak to others without him next to you. He watched as you lost friends, but put it all aside because your rose-tinted goggles favored the swimmer.

“You think you’re better for her?” Kageyama glared at Haru, the two men alone in the locker room together. Haru used his towel to wipe the pool water from his face uninterestedly, and Kageyama’s hands balled into fists.

“She’s happier with me,” Haru said with an infuriating smile, “And she should be with who she’s happiest with.”

“That should be me,” Kageyama snarled, stepping closer and cracking his knuckles, ready for a fight.

“Then maybe you should ask yourself why it isn’t,” Haru said coolly.

His words hit harder than any physical blow could and Kageyama’s heart twisted with envy. He watched as Haru walked out of the locker room, a smug grin on his face, with a mixture of rage and fear.

Fear, because deep down, he knew Haru was right.

—---------------------

Was Haru really any better than Kageyama was? You were beginning to wonder if that was really the case.

The dark-haired swimmer had an arm thrown around your shoulders- yet another sign of his possessive behavior. He remained silent as his friends chatted around the lunch table, but the unsaid threat was there.

Don’t say a word.

Thankfully, his friends seemed to understand Haru’s behavior because never once did they direct any of their conversation to you. Sadly, you gazed across the cafeteria at your old group of friends.

Too bad Haru would never let you talk to them again.

Haru turned to you and whispered into your ear, “Why not drop out and move in with me?”

You stood up suddenly, halfway falling off the bench. Nononono. No way in hell were you going to do that.

The way Haru glared at your reaction was the breaking point. You were not going to let you manipulate you into dropping out of college. And you were not going to let him take away your freedoms any longer.

“We’re done,” you said, “I can’t take this anymore.”

Haru’s eyes widened, “You don’t have to move in.”

“It’s not just that it’s- you’re too possessive. I want to have friends, Haruka.”

Haru gritted his teeth, “Then you can have a friend or two-”

“No! Not just a ‘friend or two’. I’m sick of you controlling me! We. Are. Over,” you stormed away, furious with him and with yourself for letting him control you for so long.

You approached your friends’ table and, after explaining to them that you and Haru were no longer an item, they welcomed you with open arms. You had forgotten what it was like to have friends and were completely blown away by how much fun you were having talking to them again.

At his friends’ table, Haru was seething.

—--------------------------------------

“What happened to ‘she should be with whoever makes her happiest’?” Kageyama mocked.

Haru gritted his teeth, “If you don’t want to then-”

“Who said I didn’t want to?” Kageyama snapped.

The two men looked across the park, where you sat under the shade of an oak tree, laughing alongside a tall, dark-haired man- one that was neither Haru nor Kageyama.

“It’s a deal then?” Haru asked.

“Yes,” Kageyama replied, “We kill him tonight.”

[mychoombatheroomba]

Firing Range

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 10

As the weeks go by, you and Leon get closer.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Chapter Index

Weeks went by, quick as the slash of a knife. Leon learned to think of each day as a step by step - get through each task, each lesson, then worry about the next. He didn’t give himself a chance to pause, or let the fatigue set in. Not if he could help it. What had him out of breath once, now he could weather with greater and greater ease. He could feel the change in his body; muscles hardening, his reflexes improving. His legs would carry him further, and his aim was steadier. He could feel himself being honed into something sharper, and there was some grim satisfaction in that. Even so, he preferred to focus on the other changes those weeks brought. 

Changes like the way you, on an unremarkable day, had set your tray down beside his at lunch, and didn’t look bothered when he did the same the following day. Or the way the conversations the two of you shared had slowly been growing longer. Many of those conversations were about the present - ways to improve, not just with knives, but with many aspects of STRATCOM training. Sometimes you would discuss music. Movies. Other interests. Leon clung to every piece of information you would give him, wanting to know more about you. 

And, of course, some conversations were about the past. Those ones were more painful, but no less important to Leon. 

“Is it alright,” he’d begun one night, a few days after your initial talk, “if I ask you about what happened that night?” 

You hadn’t looked too thrilled, but you didn’t look surprised, either. “You can ask,” you said, “but I may not answer.” 

“You said you weren’t in Raccoon City when you saw bioweapons. Where were you?” 

You’d blinked, braced yourself. “On base in Finland.” 

“Was it the same night you got hurt?” 

“Yes.”

“But . . . you were stabbed, weren’t you? With a knife?” 

“I was.” 

“But it wasn’t a bioweapon?” 

“No.”

“So then how did it happen?”

 You frowned, and whatever your reasons, Leon knew not to press further after you answered: “Pass.”  

A few days later, you had a question for him. 

“Do you know how the outbreak started in Raccoon City?” 

He’d been told not to speak on the matter. Why, he couldn’t say. Still, when it came to you, Leon decided that you deserved to know.

“Umbrella. The pharmaceutical company. They were experimenting with viral weaponry underneath the city.” Thinking of what he’d seen made Leon tense. Grip his knife tighter. 

“Umbrella.” You’d looked a little distant as you heard the words. “So, they . . . what, infected everyone up top?” 

“Not intentionally, I think. It was an accident.” And then he told you what he’d seen of the camera footage - the doctor, the armed men sent after him, and the broken vials of the viruses. “Rats found the vials. I think they spread it.” 

“And the men that went after the doctor. Do you know who they were working for?” 

“No, I’m not sure. He knew they were coming, though.” 

You’d hummed, thinking. “And you found all this on security camera footage? From inside the Umbrella labs?” 

“Yeah.”

“What the hell were you doing down there?” 

“I was looking for a sample of the virus. I . . .” he’d paused, choking on the memory of a woman in a red dress pressing her lips to his, and then holding a gun to his heart. “I thought it would help bring Umbrella down.” 

“Did you get it?” 

“. . . Pass.” 

You respected the end of the conversation just as much as Leon did, and just like that, the two of you had a system. An easy way out. A way to jump ship, to stop either of you from being lost in the memories. 

He told you the abstract. Zombies. Umbrella. The city being lost. 

He kept other things closer to his chest. Marvin, the glimpse into the life that could have been. Claire, the girl he’d come to respect more than almost anyone else. Sherry, the child who he’d given up his freedom for. Ada, the woman who he’d lost, not that he’d ever really had her to begin with. You didn’t need to know about them, and he didn’t need to know everyone you’d lost, either.

It felt good to have someone who understood. Someone who had been through that same hell. You didn’t pity him or what he’d been through, and what questions you asked weren’t an interrogation. Even if he wished that neither of you had been through what you’d been through, or seen what you’d seen, he was glad to have you - for company, and for help. The latter became all the more true when Krauser announced that Leon’s squad would be going through assessments. 

“Already?” you asked, when Leon mentioned it over lunch. “He’s moving fast.” 

“What’s he ‘assessing’? He wasn’t very clear,” Leon said, glad for the conversation taking his mind off the tasteless food he shoveled into his mouth. 

“Everything,” you said before taking a sip of water. 

“Everything.” Leon huffed. “Everything ‘soldier’ or everything ‘they’re going to make me retake the SAT?” 

You deadpanned in the way you usually would, raising a brow and almost - almost - letting the side of your mouth curl up into a smirk. “Fitness, marksmanship, combat. Everything he’s taught you so far . . .” you paused, considering something, “. . . and maybe some things he hasn’t.” 

“That is . . . not a whole lot more helpful.” 

“Well, giving away everything would defeat the point of the test.” 

“Right. So, if we pass, then what?” 

“Then you move to the next phase of training.” You took another sip. Your eyes didn’t break from his own. “Same as my unit.” 

The idea shouldn’t have made him as excited as it did. Advanced training meant more pain. More demanding exercises. More blood and bruises. It also meant that he would be one step closer to being ready. It meant that he would be able to manage whatever came his way. It meant, perhaps, that he would be in like company more often than just mealtimes and personal hours. That shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did. 

“So, maybe we branch out,” you offered, interrupting his thoughts as you rested your arms against the table. “Focus on more than just knives.” 

And that was how Leon found himself at the firing range that evening, holding a handgun instead of a knife. He might have hated how natural it felt to him, a few months ago. Now, it was a welcome relief. There was even some twisted excitement to it, because he’d agreed to this not only for the practice. You were at his side, holding your own gun like you’d been born with one in your hand. Part of him wouldn’t have been surprised if that were really the case. 

The two of you had headphones on, though something told Leon that both of you had long since begun to damage your hearing with the sound of gunfire. Still, any words would be muffled, so you didn’t speak. You just tilted your head towards the targets downrange. 

That was all the signal Leon needed. 

Live rounds. STRATCOM wanted the best from their recruits and didn’t mind fronting the money for the munitions. It meant that an officer stood on duty by the door, there to observe. Neither of you paid him much mind. 

There were twelve rounds in the magazine of his gun. Twelve times, as he pointed the gun forward, he squeezed the trigger. Twelve little ringing sounds as the shells fell to the floor. 

When those twelve rounds were fired, Leon felt a little swell of pride in him as he looked through twelve holes punched through the target. Not quite dead center on all of them, but damned close. 

He couldn’t help but look over at you, grinning like a bandit because, at last, he got to prove that he was good at something. If he was being honest with himself, that was part of why he’d agreed to this. He knew that you didn’t think less of him for his skill level in anything - you had never given him anything but respect. Still, it felt good to be able to show you that he wasn’t some helpless rookie. Not in every aspect, at least. 

It made the impressed look you gave him all the better. “Not bad,” Leon read your lips before you turned towards your own target, your eyes narrowing as you took aim. You were fast, firing with a practiced precision. Quick and efficient, the same way you fought. Leon watched as you tore through the target, his eyes switching between the range and the steady iron of your arms. 

When it was done, you stepped back, setting your pistol down and taking your headphones off. “Not so bad yourself,” Leon gestured down range. You’d shot about the same as he had, from the look of things, and he wouldn't have expected anything less.

“Years of practice,” you said, matter-of-factly. “You’ve got a natural talent, looks like. Or beginner’s luck.” 

“What? Don’t think I’ve had ‘years of practice’ too?” 

“Not with the military, you haven’t.” 

“That obvious?” 

“No soldiers I know have that haircut.” 

Leon, for all he had been through, all the times you’d handed his ass to him, felt himself go a little red at the comment. It must have been obvious, because you looked entirely too pleased with yourself. The grin you let slip made it worth it, he supposed. “You’ve been holding on to that one for a while now, haven’t you?” 

“Since day one,” you nodded, shifting your weight onto one leg and grabbing at the headphones around your neck. 

“Well, it’s not beginner’s luck,” Leon insisted, “I did have some training. I was going to be a cop.” 

“Of course, you were,” you shook your head, not at all surprised. “But what do you mean ‘going to be’?” 

He wasn’t sure if that night was getting easier to talk about, exactly, but Leon found the answer escaping him quickly all the same. “I really only got one day in.” 

“Ah,” you nodded, understanding as you always did. So much of what the two of you had shared about that night were the monstrosities. The why and how. Not so much what life was like before. 

“What about you?” he asked, eager to switch the subject off of his only day on the job. “How long have you been serving?” 

Before you answered, your eyes flitted off to the side like you were doing the math in your mind. “Four . . . almost five years, now.” 

Leon let out a little huff of air, his eyebrows rising. “Did you join right out of high school?” You had to have - if he was guessing your age correctly. 

“Yep,” you nodded, your answer short and stiff. 

He wondered if he’d interpreted it correctly for only a moment before he asked another question. “Never thought of doing anything else?” He almost couldn’t picture it - you working some normal job in a city, spending hours a day at a desk or rushing between tables. You seemed so natural in this life . . . but he knew better than anyone that not everyone who was here had chosen to live this way. 

You paused, eyebrows drawn together as you thought. “I thought about it,” you finally admitted, and the resignation in your voice gave Leon pause. “Not sure what I would have done, to be honest.” 

“What made you join?” 

He expected the answer he got before you even opened your mouth. “Pass.” 

Another missing piece, but if it wasn’t one you wanted him to have, then he could do without. 

“Well,” Leon breathed, “you’re a damn good soldier. Whatever your reasons.” 

You looked up at him then, something flickering behind your eyes. “That wouldn’t be flattery, would it?” Your voice was low. Why was it so low? So the officer at the door wouldn’t hear? That had to be it. 

“Not flattery,” Leon shook his head, speaking earnestly. “Just fact.” 

You huffed, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. “Alright, pretty boy-” you said it and Leon might have choked because he never - never - thought to hear those words from you, “-less talking, more shooting.” 

It wasn’t the first time he’d been called that here. He’d heard Valeria and some of the others refer to him that way - even Krauser, on a rare occasion. Always mocking, when it came to the Major. Hearing it from you . . . it shouldn’t have thrown him for a loop, but here he was, reeling like you’d knocked him in the back of the head. 

The last time he’d felt like that-

He wouldn’t let himself think of it. Not when he knew where that spiral of thoughts would lead him. Instead, he moved back to the firing range, about to slide the headphones back over his ears when your voice stopped him. 

“Tell you what,” you grinned, “we’ll keep score tonight. Whoever wins gets the knife tomorrow.” 

And whoever lost . . . “Fighting full out?” he asked, glad of the distraction - both from Ada’s memory and from the effect your words had on him. 

“Full out,” you nodded.

“. . . I don’t think I’d do very well against you unarmed,” Leon admitted, because he knew damn well that it was the truth. 

“Well,” you shrugged, pulling your headphones back on and glancing over at him with a smirk, “then I guess you’d better shoot straight.” 

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Chapter Index

A/N: Leon is down so bad and who could blame him?

[the-tales-of-ren]

Asking you out on a date

Pairing: Kylo Ren x reader

Warnings: None

Requested: @obessionprofessional

Request:

Hi! Since you’re taking requests, would you be okay to write a fic about Kylo asking a female reader on a date? It could be the other way around, too! I hope you have a quick recovery!

Note: I made this into HC list, I hope that’s okay!

***

• Kylo Ren may act cold and distant towards you more so than everyone else, but that’s because he doesn’t know how to expression feelings without risking ruining his reputation around the First Order

• Therefore, that fails him to think of any ways to properly ask you out without possibly putting your life at risk of Snoke

• Being cold and distant was just his way of protecting you in the beginning

• But that all changes when Kylo becomes supreme leader of the First Order

• It wasn’t until after defeating Snoke and Rey escaping back to the Resistance did Kylo how much more freedom he gained taking place as the new supreme leader, he was free to do as he wished

• The very first thing Kylo did in his new position was finding you and explaining to you that he was now the supreme leader and the explanation was followed by him asking you out on a date

• At first, you thought it was a joke. Not of him defeating Snoke but the part where he was asking you on a date, but than you saw the glimpse of sincerity in his eyes.

• Of course you had accepted. In your heart, you would have accepted even if he wasn’t the supreme leader, you still would have agreed

• Though Kylo was cold and distant towards you in the beginning, that didn’t stop you from falling for the masked man. You understand that he had to have a reason for why he was the way he was towards you and you were quite right about that

• After how well things went on the first date, Kylo had made a promise to you and himself that he would never again treat you as if you were simply nothing

• Not much was done on the first date, it was mostly just the two of you hanging out and getting to know each other better while finding things in common

• You were from the planet Earth and shared many funny childhood stories of your life there. The one he got a crack out of was the story of a raccoon you and your friend supposedly thought was dead after seeing a fly crawling around its eye as it got up and the two of you as you were walking home from school together

• That story had given Kylo a laugh he hadn’t had in a good long while, it was a laugh he needed and he couldn’t be any more pleased than to receive it from you, the one he loves

• Ever since the first date, you both became inseparable and even with Snoke now gone, Kylo was always careful about exposing your relationship

• Neither of you could afford the Resistance finding out and using it against you

• Kylo gets a little too overprotective

• If you think you can have a casual conversation with General Hux, you are sadly mistaken

• Even if he is your friend, Kylo doesn’t trust him and doesn’t like him around you

• The only other person he really trusts to be around you in the order is captain Phasma

• Kylo is just thinking of your safety and wants to keep you protected at all times because he loves you so much

• Losing you would be a nightmare come true

• Losing you would be very much like his own death sentence

• He can’t lose you

• He won’t

~~~

[4dkellysworld]

What's stopping you?

So you've read a ton of information on Tumblr (maybe even some books) and now you feel lost. And even though you want to apply, you feel stuck. Why? Well, there's too many possible variables on why someone could be feeling this way but I'll cover a few.

Personally for me, that all stopped when I found the teachings and practices that truly resonated with me & not what was popular here, I've branched out from what 4dbarbie has taught; I'm on my own path that I got led to and chose, and it feels right. And there's a strong sense of peace and certainty once you recognise and know what resonates for you personally; that's YOUR truth. The end goal is the same for everyone but the way there will differ depending on the person, their level of spiritual maturity, state of mind etc.

When asked once by Swami Yogananda, a Swami with a large following in America, what spiritual instruction should be given to the people for their uplift, Ramana Maharshi replied: “It depends on the temperament and spiritual maturity of the individual. There can be no mass instruction.”

I'll always be grateful to 4dbarbie for introducing me to non-duality and there was a time when her teachings were what I needed but now I'm on my own path doing practices that work for me which is what she encouraged too.

So maybe you keep holding off & feel unsure about it all because what you've read from teachings doesn't feel right for you personally. Don't force it to fit where it doesn't. Be bold and branch out of Tumblr and the 'mass instruction' if that doesn't sit right within you (be honest with yourself and you'll know). Find the teachings & practices that resonate with your spiritual heart & inspire you to live that truth honestly. Cut down on the sources you read from and only stick to the ones that resonate with you.

And I know there's some or a lot of people who follow so many accounts on here (LOA/void/ND) but how are you going to go forward and practice anything when you have so much conflicting information? You can't simultaneously manifest/fulfill desires and let go of the ego; their directions are complete opposites. Pick a path and stick to it. Stop flip flopping then feeling bad for not going anywhere. Your indecision is the cause of this. And I said before to be discerning of what you read too, when you stick to few sources that you know are genuine and resonate with you personally, there is little room for confusion on the truth and what you need to apply daily. This also applies to what you read on. If you can't read about multiple things without getting confused or swayed from the path, cut it out already. What value is LOA/void information anyway when you're on the ND path and vice versa? Zero; it's just a waste of your time. So stop it already.

This is just an intuitive guess on what could be causing resistance to some of you practicing and living this honestly but ultimately you'll need to dig into it yourself and figure it out. It's not something that a post will be able to cover completely as everyone is different. For anything else in life, self-discipline would be really important but I think desire for freedom is the most important and would drive anyone that has it to keep applying faithfully every day without having to force themselves to do it. Self-discipline might be more important when you start out but ultimately this has to be something that you live and breathe every day without effort.

[iamafictionfreak]

TIS THE SEASON TO BE MERTHUR!

Just... Look at them!

I miss everything about this show. Even the very bad CGI and the weak-ass plot points/armour/conveniences/contrivances.

One Christmas Eve, almost 11 years ago, the entire Merlin fandom was butchered into tiny little distraught pieces. It didn’t matter if your favourite character was Merlin or Morgana, Gaius or Gwen. The showrunners held no qualms in destroying your dreams for Gwaine or Perce. The writers did not hold back in their aim to crucify the smile on your face, to forever turn it upside down. No ship was spared. All hopes for the show to finally commit to their original intent, to bring peace between peoples, to save Albion, to allow Merlin his freedom and Arthur the truth, was brought to a bitter, fatalistic end.

Not that I need to repeat this to you, you know what happened, but it’s worth reiterating that this travesty occurred… on Christmas Eve.

CHRISTMAS. EVE.

Christmas Eve.

The night before Christmas, the night before the day where all rules are broken and we can frolic like children around a decorated tree filled with twinkling lights, our collective hearts were shredded.

This event (once we recovered a tiny bit from the shock) gave birth to a plethora of astonishingly well written, poignant, devastating, hilarious fanfictions that had helped nurse our wounds, for nothing could TRULY heal (except a follow-up season with the original characters, come ON BBC) us.

After nearly 11 years of watching these brilliant entries grow, I never thought I’d jump on this bandwagon and write my own fic.

But I've had a few very shit years, as have many people around the world, and I started to wonder as we do when we want to prove magic can still happen.

My brain decided that it wanted my hands to write the most indulgent, likely over done fic in existence for the fandom. This thought stuck with me throughout the year – I was being STALKED by myself – and wouldn’t leave me the hell alone. This hasn’t happened in a long while.

Still… you’ll eyeroll at the idea. It's so OBVIOUS, I'm embarrassed by myself.

What if Arthur discovered Merlin’s magic from the get-go, from episode 1?

WAIT. Hear me out…

So, Merlin saves Arthur for the first time and Arthur SEES. He sees his eyes glow.

He knows he should tell his father, but his instincts are screaming at him. Honour is at stake. This stranger saved his life. How could he reward it with an execution? So, a chance needs to be given, doesn’t it? A chance for Merlin to give up magic forever and live a life of goodness, to turn away from evil and serve Arthur…

Except Arthur can’t help but wonder. About Magic, about Merlin and magic, about the law and all the whys attached and his place within this chain.

But he also can’t trust this peasant who cavorts with the devil, practices wickedness but smiles like a child and offers compassion to everyone. Someone so duplicitous must be dangerous… except Merlin’s an actual idiot! And it’s getting really difficult to keep his guard up.

But isn’t that how sorcerers work? They twist the mind with pleasing ideas, they tempt and coerce, they manipulate.

And slowly, Arthur finds himself being manipulated too. For how could he ever want to trust this man- but he does. He does.

And we’ve never been allowed to see Merlin deal with a S1 Arthur who’s in the ‘know’. Who’s forcing him to keep it secret, who’s threatening him with trial by fire, a young Arthur who’s ignorant, arrogant and so desperate to understand what he cannot trust.

Then there's the layers, royalty versus peasantry, friendship versus alliances, goals versus ideals.

I want to write a fic where this trust is built from the ground up. One of the things about the show that made it impossible for me to let it go is that the ‘relationship’ between Arthur and Merlin fits exactly zero categories, yet all of them.

Master and servant.

Friends

Family

Allies

Enemies

Romantic ideals

Platonic soulmates

Absolute Soulmates

I could go on. And it's one of those rare shows where the writing would be given more oomph if the males leads had dared cross a line or two.

Realistically, they weren't even friends. They were master and servant who'd become a little co-dependant. Arthur could never admit to anything more because of his station, but would he have been able to being completely himself around Merlin if he'd known the truth? We never see Arthur truly be himself. He wasn't allowed to be, not even with his wife. There was always a wall - it was how he was raised and any attempt to develop was killed by plot.

We never saw Merlin completely free, not with a single person. He started happy and healthy and innocent. A liar. He ended up bitter and terrified and angry and alone. Still a liar.

What would he have become if there'd been one person he could truly trust- not Gaius. Not a man already broken and brainwashed by his own self. A victim of the system just as much as he perpetuated the hate and completely unaware of the trap he lived in.

Many of the characters in the show have the versatility and potential to be written a trillion different ways, is it any wonder that fics continue to be written?

Well, I wanted to explore a slow burn development of trust, with Arthur learning how wrong he was, how much he’s trampled on, and all about the seemingly normal peasant boy who meant more to the world than Arthur could possibly understand. What would they have become if they’d been given the time, hm?

When they were young - yes, I'm going there - wild and free.

What of Morgana, what if she could have trusted? What if she could have understood? Would it have turned out differently? Would she have still become the other side of Uther's coin?

Would Merlin still have ended up alone?

There’s lots more I wanted to touch upon, it’s a big what if, but that’ll have to wait for another post.

I’m writing a 5 part prologue that occurs between episode 1 and 2. I’m hoping to release it for Christmas and then take the time to write the rest of the season.

Unless… you guys think it’s a waste of time? Let me know.

In the meantime, I’m STILL SUFFERING (fucking show) and it's making me write, write, write!

(gifs not mine)

[soleilnomoon]

Hi again! Still absolutely adore your Kid fic from your last event 💜 Never got around to asking for a Sanji one, so here I am again😅 But seriously, congrats on over 550 followers!! Love seeing your blog grow, cause you’re really talented and deserve them all and legit can’t wait til you hit 1k+ 🥰

For the event order, may I please ask for a #1 with my boi Sanji, with anmitsu, konpeito, and keylime pie and with honey, please? 🥹 i hate this but need some sanji angst 😭

I also dunno if these three would work particularly well together for a prompt, so you can choose whatever! just really feeling angst and sanji rn and maybe comfort if you’d like 🥰

Thank you for all your works you’ve done so far 💜💜

hiiii omg haha i loved that fic fr (i'm obsessed w that man!!!) also ily for requesting sanji i don't write him nearly enough 🥰️ but thank you sm!! 😭 making me all soft and i am so so sorry this took forever, as u know i am so slow but!!! i had fun tormenting sanji w the angst ngl 💓💓💓💓 also those were great choices for the prompt, i wanted to write more but it would've been 8k words before i finished and who has time for that (i do, but listen... that's besides the point) ✨

2k words, fem reader (honestly gn too now that i think abt it), sfw (SHOCKING i know), 18+ mdni, a lil bit suggestive but nothing wild, angst angst angst city babey, fluff if you squint, also i gave u comfort bc u deserve it bb 💗(and sanji does too); feat. sanji being in denial forever and ever, mutual pining, fake unrequited love, reader is determined and sanji is a coward; also i made myself sad writing this but a good sad bc sanji deserves happiness and i'll fight oda if he doesn't get it i s2g... (if u see grammar mistakes/spelling errors... no u didn't 💗)

“loving each other began this way: threading / loneliness into loneliness / patiently, our hands trembling and precise.” — yehuda amichai

STEP 01:

what does it take to kill a soul? —

a question that’s posed unironically, without a hint of remorse or tact, the words precise and venomous, slicing through the thick veneer that he’s carefully crafted. he’s never been able to answer that question — not at six years old, not twelve or fifteen, and not at twenty-one. his siblings took pleasure in taunting him with seemingly philosophical questions, ones that clamped down onto his thoughts with heavy shackles.

even after he’s extracted himself from that life, he can’t scrub those memories from his mind — no matter how hard he tries. they sit, still raw and bloody, giving rise to unpleasant emotions that make his stomach churn from so many things left unsaid. he never set out to be a pirate, but piracy has given him the sort of freedom that he could only wish for as a child.

it’s with tender hands, with nimble yet graceful fingers, and with a fastidiousness that puts him in a category of his own, that he creates and creates and creates —

he’s told he’s an artist, which only pushes him to work harder, to be better. and when he asks himself why, he doesn’t have an answer. or, rather, the answer he does have only serves as a punishing reminder that he’ll never be good enough. no matter how many times his crew mates thank him — their emphatic, genuine praise a soft, warm breeze against his heart, gentle caresses that he commits to memory — despair still manages to infiltrate, a darkness choking out what little light he has left inside of him.

STEP 02:

how far are you willing to go to reach the truth? —

when you join the crew, he’s unnerved by your presence, which is wholly unlike him. usually, he’s able to put on his façade of the flirtatious cook, one that’s jovial and sociable, that lives to serve and please those around him. his first conversation with you ends in disaster; he spills the drink he tried to pour for you, despite your insistence that you are perfectly capable of pouring your own drink — and he knows it’s not out of malice, but it cuts into him all the same.

he tries again and again, bringing you little treats that you only agree to eating if he sits and eats with you; confusion eats away at his mind, and when he opens his mouth to decline, you pat the seat next to you and he acquiesces. he sits stiffly, at first, unsure of why he always feels on edge around you — an irritating need to impress you in a way he’s never wanted to for others grows stronger by the day.

you think it’s cute that he always seems flustered around you — that he stumbles over his words, refuses to hold eye contact with you for longer than thirty seconds — you also think it’s cute that the false bravado that he puts on for the world, diminishes immediately the second you come close to him. if he’s skittish, it’s because you always catch him staring at you; despite his quick reflexes, his reactions around you are slow but pure — childish, almost.

lately he’s clumsier and scatterbrained, nearly burning dinner when you decide to keep him company. you lean against the countertop, a teasing smile on your face — the same one that that caused him to bump his forehead against the cabinet door earlier — as you prattle on about a dream you had. he can barely keep up, his eyes drifting from the skillet to your face, gliding around the curve of your cheek, dipping lower in a slow descent along your neck.

he blinks repeatedly when he reaches your clavicle, stunned at his restraint; and it’s only when you call his name loudly that he realizes he’s left the heat on for too long.

“are you okay?” you ask when you see that he’s fussing over how best to save the dish, mouth moving as he quietly mutters to himself. he barely registers your voice, as an insidious one whispers harshly into his ears about his perpetual incompetence and lack of talent.

you can see that he’s retreated even further into his mind, a feat that also leaves you frustrated. you want to shake him but refrain and grab his hand instead. he snaps out of whatever stupor that held him captive just moments ago, lips parting as he sighs softly before glancing down at you.

“thank you.”

the words are quiet, but impactful, as he didn’t think he’d be able to get them out. you let go of his hand too soon, but he doesn’t say anything else, choosing to focus on cooking than embarrassing himself again in front of you.

you take his silence as a silent dismissal, but you don’t fight him on it — it’s bitter, that sort of rejection, and you swallow back your argument with great difficulty.

STEP 03:

what’s the difference between cowardice and self-preservation? —

frustration bubbles underneath his skin when he can’t find where he placed his lighter; he runs a hand through his hair and tugs on impulse, accidentally ripping a few strands from his scalp. they swirl and tumble onto the ground, pathetic in a way — just like me, but he never really says that out loud. he doesn’t hear your footsteps, although you did your best to remain as quiet as possible.

a cigarette sits in between his lips, and he has half a mind to toss it over the railing of the ship, but a warmth suddenly appears in front of him in the form of a flame. you found his lighter on the floor earlier and meant to give it to him, but every time you got closer, he found every excuse to leave. you don’t realize the impact you have on him — not really, anyway — because he’s genuinely surprised that you can’t hear the heavy beats of his heart that grow more intolerable the longer he hangs around you.

always afraid of being found out, he opts to keep his distance. it’s easier this way, he tells himself, better. but he doesn’t quite believe that; the evidence is plain as day when his tongue feels like its grown three sizes in the span of seconds, where his words get lost and forgotten. it’s all your fault, he reasons; you who insists on talking candidly with him, who insists on listening to him ramble about his dreams, who absolutely insists on stubbornly tearing down his walls, steadily chipping away without a care in the world. he looks at you as if you are the source of all his problems, but he also looks at you as if you’re the solution.

the intensity behind his stare makes your hands tremble slightly, it’s a miracle you’ve managed to keep yourself composed for this long. you light the end of his cigarette with ease, as if you’ve done this for him hundreds of times —and place the lighter into his pants pocket afterwards. if he wasn’t so used to you getting in his personal space all the time, he’d retreat immediately. the proximity is almost too much for him, but he doesn’t step back; you take that as a good sign and keep him company for a few minutes.

you don’t care for the smell of smoke, but on him it smells good. you almost tell him that, but instead bite down on your lip and keep your comment at bay, nerves getting the best of you as you nearly choke on the possibility that your feelings won’t be reciprocated.

another time, maybe. cheeks flushed, you turn your face to look elsewhere. although, you wonder if there ever will be another time. with him, you never know.

he’s still trying to figure you out and why he feels a different sort of calm around you; it’s alarming and new, drumming up an irrational fear within him. he doesn’t think he’s deserving of your attention or affection, and he’s convinced himself that you don’t harbor any romantic feelings for him. and why would you?

one by one, his thoughts pummel into him, acerbic and overwhelming. he exhales a sliver of smoke and puts the cigarette out. he gives you a quick, apologetic look before telling you goodnight, the smile on his face is melancholic and barely existent. you don’t dare say a word, keep your lips pressed together stubbornly; exasperated and dejected, you don’t know what’s worse — his inability to lower his guard around you for longer than ten minutes, or your inability to stop yourself from trying to carve pieces of yourself to give to him.

maybe if you helped him fill the gaping holes in his heart, he’d truly understand how you feel.

STEP 04:

if you had to do it all over again, would you do anything differently? —

sleep evades you after that night, and the night after that, and so forth; it gets so bad that you’re yawning in the middle of the day, falling asleep before you can have a cup of coffee or tea. this does not go unnoticed by the others, and after talking with nami, you feel less out of your element and finally can see the parts of sanji that he wants to keep hidden. her advice is simple: approach slowly and with intent; corner him and don’t let him escape.

you bide your time, full confident that you can find a moment to sit down with him and talk this all out. it doesn’t come easy, but franky mysteriously swaps sanji for the night’s watch — something that should strike you as odd, but it’s a small opening that you take without thinking as you hurriedly climb up to the crow’s nest with a renewed sort of energy.

even with his eyes closed, as he sits lazily on the bench with head tilted back against the wall, he knows it’s you.

“go back to bed,” he says firmly, refusing to look at you.

your stubbornness, unfortunately, wins out. “i’m staying.” at that he sits up, his attention completely on you as his eyes widen at your words. he wants to ask you why, but cowardice wins out — again. as his features soften, a flush crawls along his face, lightly painting his cheeks pink. he closes his eyes again, tries to steady his breathing as he counts backwards, only for his efforts to be obliterated with ease the moment you sit next to him.

as your thigh presses against his, you take his hand and on impulse you trace your fingertip along the lines on his palm. he watches you with a morbid fascination that scares him; but then you start to say things like, “you will live a very long life,” and “you are courageous, and you have a big heart.”

a small part of him wants to pull his hand away, so you won’t say anything else — but he remains put, so still that you almost think he’s stopped breathing. your voice is sweet and disarming, even when you carry on this charade of reading his palm. a belated realization hits him forcefully, making him blink several times; it dawns on him that you’ve always been so kind and gentle with him, even when you teased him. he’s spent all this time overthinking and hiding behind his past, that it never occurred to him that he could have simply let you in. you’ve never given him reason to believe that you’d betray or harm him intentionally.

he takes a deep breath, voice a little uneven, “i—”

you lean in close, adoration dripping onto your words as you interrupt him. “hey, have i told you?” the question glides along his skin, the words seeping into him as you continue, the lilt in your voice a honeyed, melodic spell. “you remind me of starlight and the mysteries of space.” your lips brush against his when you tell him that, and a warmth settles into the middle of his chest, makes it hard to focus. he doesn’t think when he curls his fingers around yours and doesn’t think when heleans down to kiss you — tender yet electrifying all the same.

the move disarms you in a way that doesn’t quite make sense to you, so you simply hum in approval and lean your head against his shoulder. a comfortable silence settles around you both, but you don’t mind that at all; it’s nice, not having to tip-toe around him anymore, and the demons that plagued him for so long don’t seem so intimidating with you by his side.

[goblininawig]

Life Day on Daiyu

This story is a gift for @imarvelatthestars as part of the @cloneficgiftexchange ! I picked Nax, the Daiyu Veteran, and used these prompts from your list: Reader & clone creating new traditions together || Hand under the chin || Snuggles under a blanket || "Pretty girl"

Summary: Your heart goes out to the begging veteran, so you get him a job at the restaurant you manage. One thing leads to another, and soon he's a fixture of your life, and someone you want to celebrate.

Tags: Nax/f!reader, mild hurt/comfort, family drama, strangers to lovers, sharing a bed, domestic fluff, romantic fluff, Life Day fluff, fix-it of sorts, holiday fic exchange

Words: 4.9k

Rating: T

You saw him there most days, sitting with his painted helmet, empty neck up, hoping for a few credits to be tossed his way. He had long, graying hair and a bushy, grizzled beard to match. He wore the rest of his GAR-issued armor, scratched and scuffed as it was. He sat near the marketplace on your route to and from work. You tried to leave a few credits for him after your shifts, but he was usually gone by then.

“Hey, I was thinking,” you said, casually as possible, to Myndi Emadda, a Chagrian with dark purple horns growing from her elegant head tentacles. She owned the restaurant you managed. “What if we get that veteran from the market in here to wash dishes? Bet he’d be glad of the work.”

“That old bum?” she scoffed, looking briefly up from the datapad where the previous week’s earnings were on display. “What for?”

“I figure he’ll work harder than these other people who barely stick around for a week or two. You know it’s the job with the highest turn-over. A guy like that wouldn’t skip out on his shift,” you shrug.

Myndi rolled her orange eyes. “I guess if it’ll make you happy, let him try. These numbers are worth putting up with my new manager being a secret softie.” She finally made real eye contact with you and smiled. “Just keep the profits up,” she added, sashaying out the office door.

You won’t see her again for another week. But that suits you fine. Having freedom to run things your way is why you left your family’s restaurant business. Also, they never really stopped seeing you as a little kid. Maybe, one day, they’ll come around and actually listen to you, but for now, you’re happy here. Especially since it has given you opportunities to help people like this veteran…assuming he’s interested.

The following rotation, you left for work with plenty of time for a detour to the market. After dropping some credits in the veteran’s helmet, you return his grateful nod with a hesitant smile.

“Any chance you’re looking for work?”

He blinked at you, clearly surprised. Then he shifted uncomfortably on the hard duracrete, stretching his right leg out. He cleared his throat, and said, in a rough voice, “Might be. What’s the work?”

“Nothing much, just dishwashing at Myndi’s Cafe up that way,” you nodded down the street. “But it’s steady work with steady pay, and it’s yours as long as you’d want it.”

He swallows. “I – that’s – I could do that.”

You smiled and held out your hand, kneeling a bit so he wouldn’t have to stand to reach you, introducing yourself as you shook his hand.

“Nax,” he said, completing the introductions.

“I walk this way to work,” you explained. “I can meet you here tomorrow, about this time to walk you there, and talk you through everything. That sound all right, Nax?”

He nods.

“See you then,” you smiled again, then walked away, feeling his eyes on you as you went.

You commed your sometimes overbearing, but favorite cousin during your break, asking him to bring over some of his partner’s old clothes. He showed up with them on the following rotation, shortly before you needed to leave, and you snatched them from him hurriedly.

“Finally,” you complained, shoving them in a bag. “You’re gonna make me late,” you grumbled.

Brenko chuckled and leaned against your doorframe, completely unfazed. “You’re welcome.”

You made a face at him and then let out a reluctant, “Thanks.”

“Anytime, baby cuz,” he smirked. “Who’s the new boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes as you shoved him out of the doorway. “It’s not like that.” You shut and locked the door. Then you turned and give him a hug. “Good to see ya.”

“Yeah, same. Don’t be a stranger, huh?”

“No promises,” you called behind you as you hurried towards the market.

Nax was waiting for you, helmet in hand, looking uncertain. You greeted him and then guided him to the back entrance of Myndi’s Cafe. There was a staff ‘fresher there with a shower, a few sinks, and several lockers. You pulled out the clothes from your cousin, and set them down on the bench.

“You can shower in here, and change. Hopefully something will fit you. But, uh, you can’t wear armor to work,” you explained, with a shy smile. “There’s soap and stuff on that shelf. Use whatever you need. When you’re ready, head out that way,” you point towards the hallway that connects to the back of the kitchen. “Whoever you find there can tell you where I’m at.”

He agrees with a wordless nod, and you leave him to it.

The next time you saw Nax, he was wearing a button-up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to expose his muscled, bronze forearms, and a pair of soft, black pants. He’d tied back half of his hair and trimmed his beard; it was still full, but no longer looked wild. You had to work hard to control your reaction. He looked incredible, and suddenly staying professional felt like a challenge. But you powered through the moment, and managed to keep yourself to an approving nod and a friendly (you hoped) smile.

“Okay, so this is Kile,” you said, leading him to the dish-washing area where the young human stood with his hip against the sink, looking bored. “He’ll show you through the basic process, and supervise the first few loads that come through. I’ll check back later,” you promised.

At the end of the night, when you locked up, Nax was waiting for you. He was back in his armor; the other clothes were folded up neatly and tucked into his helmet.

“Thank you,” he said gruffly. “Most folk won’t hire clones.”

You shrugged. “Their loss.”

For the first time ever, you saw a hint of a smile on his face, and warmth flooded your chest.

“Same time tomorrow?” you asked.

He nodded. “Mind if I walk with you?” he asked.

“I’d like that,” you replied.

He parted ways with you at the marketplace, and you wondered if he slept there, tucked away in some empty stall. The thought made you sad.

You and Nax easily fell into a routine of walking to and from work together. One rotation, when the weather had turned bitter cold, you knew you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if he had to sleep outside.

“Nax,” you said, shivering in the wind, “do you want to sleep on my couch tonight?”

He frowned. “Sure you’d feel safe with me there?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I know I won’t forgive myself if something happens to you in this weather.”

Nax looked genuinely surprised, and touched. His expression softened. “Thank you.”

He followed you to your small rental flat. It was nothing compared to your family’s home, but you’re certain that Nax was the last person who’d judge your simple, and, admittedly, a bit crummy, living space. Your main reasons for staying there were that it had been instantly available and was close to work. Being able to walk to the market and to work was a grounding, simple pleasure you secretly cherished. You had always driven to work in the past.

In the central room, you had a second-hand sofa, a holoprojector, and not much else. Nax looked huge, standing there with his broad shoulders. You offered him a seat, mindful of the limp in his right leg he tried so hard to hide from you. He settled into the sofa, stretching his bad leg out in front of him. 

The kitchenette, to the left of the main entry, was sparsely supplied, but clean. Grabbing a glass of water for each of you, you joined him on the sofa. You sipped your water, feeling awkward.

“Are you hungry?” you thought to ask.

He shook his head, staring down at the glass in his hand.

“Well, if you get nibbly later, there’s stuff in the kitchen. Just poke around. Eat whatever,” you offered. “I’m gonna use the ‘fresher and then I’ll get you a blanket and all that.”

Nax looked at you and nodded, “Thank you.”

You nod back, trying to ignore the blush you feel heating your cheeks. “Sure.”

Washing your face and brushing your teeth gave you time to feel more settled. You left an extra toothbrush out for Nax, who was massaging his thigh when you passed through to your bedroom. 

You dug through a box you never fully unpacked to find your extra bedding. You put a fresh pillow case on a pillow and take it with the blankets to the empty sofa. Nax exited the ‘fresher just as you finished.

“Well,” you said, “good night. Hope you sleep ok.”

“Thank you,” Nax replied in his deep voice.

You smiled at him, and slipped into your room, closing the door behind you. As you laid in bed, you reflected on how risky and stupid your family would say you’re being, to let a man you barely know into your home. But you don’t feel like you made the wrong decision at all.

The following morning, you stumbled out of your room, yawning and rubbing at your eyes. You were getting caf ready to brew when a rumbling, “Good morning,” from behind shocked you. You screeched and jumped around, heart pounding. Then you saw Nax and remembered why he was there. You sagged against the kitchen counter.

“Kriff,” you managed weakly. “I forgot you were here.”

“I’m sorry,” Nax apologized from where he sat, his right leg stretched across the sofa.

You waved his apology away. “No need. I just wasn’t quite awake yet.” 

You smiled sheepishly. Nax looked about as awkward as you felt.

You visited the ‘fresher while the caf brewed, and then poured a cup for yourself and your guest. Nax swung his leg down so you could sit with him, and you silently enjoyed your hot drinks together. When you were more awake, you decided to let yourself pry a little.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You already did,” Nax retorted, face serious, but his dark eyes twinkled with unexpected humor.

You huffed and rolled your eyes. “Okay, can I ask you something else?”

“Go ahead,” he replied. He sipped the last of his caf.

“Where do you usually sleep?”

Nax kept his eyes on his mug. At first you weren’t sure he would answer you, but then he said: “There’s a vendor at the market that lets me stow my extra gear under their booth during the day in exchange for guarding it at night.”

You bit your lower lip to keep yourself from ranting about how the vendor should pay him for guard work, not exploit his desperate situation. You forced yourself to take a few breaths before you reply. 

“Well, if you’d rather, you can stay here. I’m not used to living by myself, so you’d be doing me a favor.” That was only a slight exaggeration. You hadn’t been on your own before you moved here, but it wasn’t all that bad. Still, you’d rather have a roommate than force him back out in the weather. The real cold season hadn’t even hit yet.

When you finally looked up, you saw Nax staring at you. “Why would you want that?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

Your heart went out to him. “Besides it just being the right thing to do?” you said at first, deflecting a bit. Then you softened at the look in his eyes, and added, “and I enjoy being around you.”

The grizzled ex-warrior didn’t seem to know what to say to that. He stared at you for a long moment, finally murmuring a soft “thank you.”

Once again, you left for work early to stop at the market, this time accompanied by Nax. The bundle he gathered from the muttering Gran vendor was pathetically small, containing as it did, all his worldly goods. It took all your customer service skills to keep from tearing into the three-eyed Gran and giving them a piece of your mind. Nax didn’t need you to fight his battles for him. And you didn’t need to foster ill will for him in the community. So you kept your mouth shut, and let yourself be silently grateful that he wouldn’t need to go back there again.

You and Nax settled into a cozy routine, starting your days with companionable cups of caf on the sofa. Little by little, you drew closer, physically and emotionally, and you would cuddle up to his warm side as you sat together. He was surprisingly handy, and fixed all the little problems with your flat that you’d been meaning to get around to someday: tightening loose screws and fiddly door panels. He didn’t know much about cooking, but that was your forte and it was a delight to share your knowledge with him. Soon he was surprising you with inventive meals of his own making. Living together put no strain on working together, and it was nice to have a companion.

You woke up shivering. The cold season had fully arrived, and the heat in your flat wasn’t working. Grumbling to yourself, you reached for your commlink, and sent a message to the building supervisor. But you only received an automated response: that the power had gone out for the entire block, and would be out until the city repaired the grid. Which meant you were in for a very bitter night.

Getting up, a blanket around yourself, you shuffled into the other room. “Nax?” you whispered, unwilling to disturb him if he was still asleep.

But he answered immediately, “Yes?”

“The power is out, so the heat’s out. Would you..wanna come shar my bed with me? I’m too cold to sleep.”

Nax didn’t hesitate. He stood and brought his blankets along to layer over yours. You smiled to yourself in the darkness and went back to bed. Nax joined you, his body heat instantly warming the little pocket of air trapped beneath the blankets. You gave a little contented sigh, and moved closer to rest your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around your back, holding you gently. As you drifted back to sleep, you wondered why you hadn’t done this sooner.

When you woke up again, it was in a much more pleasant way. Nax was curled on his side, and you were spooned up against his broad back and thighs, one arm flung around his waist. The cocoon of blankets was warm with your shared body heat. Nax smelt like musk and shampoo when you nuzzled into the hair at the nape of his neck. He brought a hand up to cover yours, gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Good morning,” came his sleep-roughened voice.

“Mmm-hmm,” you hummed in agreement. “I could get used to waking up like this.”

He squeezed your hand again, tighter this time, and you squeezed back. 

Every day you spent with Nax made you care for him more deeply. But you weren’t quite sure he really let himself acknowledge your affection for him. He seemed to assume others would find him worthless, which you couldn’t blame him, after he’d been discarded by the Galactic Republic-turned-Empire, and treated like a soulless being by the very people he’d spent his life fighting to protect. It was awful. You hoped that one day, he would see himself for the loveable man you knew him to be.

“Want to go somewhere we can take hot showers?” you asked.

“Stars, yes,” he sighed.

You hired a transport to get to your cousin’s place. Brenko had eagerly agreed when you’d invited yourself and Nax over. You knew he’d be a pain about it, but the amenities, you hoped, would be worth the trouble.

“Come in! Come in!” he waved you and Nax through the doorway of the home he shared with his partner. Brenko pushed you towards the bedroom, “you can take the master ‘fresher. And I’ll show your friend here,” he paused to look over Nax’s impressive form, “to the guest ‘fresher.”

“Don’t tell him any stories about our childhood,” you called out to their retreating backs.

“No promises,” Brenko sing-songed, making you roll your eyes.

You found Brenko in the kitchen later, after you’d cleaned up and changed. He was making a huge breakfast. “Where’s the hubs?” you asked, tossing some chopped fruit into your mouth.

“He’s been at work for hours, dear cuz,” Brenko replied, stirring something on the stove. “He manages all the before-open prep these days.”

“Oh yeah? Uncle Brice finally let him take that on?”

“Well, he had too. He threw his back out and finally admitted he can’t keep up anymore. Honestly, it was a relief.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Think you and your friend will be at the Life Day party this year?”

You grimaced, but were saved from answering by Nax entering the room. Your cousin must’ve loaned him more of his partner’s clothes, because he was wearing a green asymmetric v-neck sweater that showed off his neck and as well as a glimpse of his impressive pectorals. You tried not to stare at all the exposed brown skin. Nax was looking down at himself in consternation.

“You’re sure your husband won’t mind me taking these?” he asked, apparently not for the first time by the way Brenko waved it off.

“I told you, it’s fine. I’ve been trying to get him to clear out his closet for cycles. You’re doing me a favor.”

He turned and winked at you. You pursed your lips into a frown to hide your smile. You really shouldn’t encourage him to dress up your roommate in ways he knows will pique your interest, should you?

Nax sat down at the large kitchen island beside you, and Brenko slid a couple of steaming cups over. You inhaled the caf scent deeply, appreciative of the excellent blend your cousin used.

“Almost ready with this food here,” Brenko noted. “Go set the table, will you?”

You grumbled, just because, but set out the necessary objects. Nax moved to help, but you pushed him back down to the stool. “Rest,” you asserted gently. “You have to stand at work all day, I don’t.”

Nax sat back down without protest, which meant his leg was probably hurting him, because of the cold. You really needed to find some salve or something that would help take the edge off for him, you mused as you readied the table.

Brenko sat down and ate with you. It was nice to see how well he and Nax took to each other. They bonded easily over work stories of kitchen drama and talking about you like you weren’t there. It would’ve been annoying if it wasn’t so endearing. You left feeling full from more than just a meal.

The power had been restored by the time you and Nax walked home from work that evening. When it was time to sleep, Nax came into your room to retrieve his bedding. Before he laid a hand on anything, you blurted out, “You don’t have to sleep on the sofa, if you don’t want to.”

Feeling hopeful, but also shy and a bit embarrassed by your lack of finesse, you bit your lip and looked down at the floor. You could feel Nax looking at you. Then you heard him step closer to you, saw his feet and legs appear in your line of sight, and then one large, strong hand was lifting your chin up. 

You looked into his deep soulful eyes as he rumbled, “Are you sure?”

You swallowed, shifted closer to put your hands on his waist. “Yes.”

His hand left your chin to caress your cheek, and you leaned into the touch. “Alright.”

That night you fell asleep in his arms for the second time.

You stared at the invitation in your hand, hot tears burning your eyes. Every year, your family threw a lavish Life Day celebration to which they’d invite anyone they wanted to impress, or do business with, as well as the entire extended family and close personal friends. The event was scheduled so that the least important guests were asked to come midday, the more important ones towards evening, with family and friends ending the night together at whatever late hour they chose. This year, since you’d decided to strike out on your own, you’d been relegated to the midday crowd. You had been dreading this event, thinking you’d be obliged to go, but now you’ve changed your mind. If they don’t want you around, you’ll just stay away.

“Nax, have you ever celebrated Life Day?”

The clone shook his long hair back as he answered, “No. The Kamanoans would’ve seen that as a meaningless distraction and expense. Besides, what’s the use of celebrating something with life in its name when you were created to be droid fodder?” he continued darkly.

You frowned slightly, saddened by what Nax has suffered in his short, accelerated life. But then you shrugged. “Well, you’re not a soldier now. Wanna celebrate it with me this cycle?”

Nax stroked a hand through his gray-streaked beard, “Like how..?”

You shrugged again. “Like whatever we want.”

Myndi’s Cafe was closed on Life Day since it was an unofficial planet-wide celebration. Which left you and Nax free to sleep in. You woke up in his arms and snuggled closer, resting your head over his chest to listen to his solid heartbeat. You couldn’t think of a better way to start any day, especially this one.

“I’m looking forward to spending the day with you,” you murmured once you knew he was awake by the way he squeezed you softly to say good morning.

He chuckled. The sound of it rumbled under you as you lay against him. “We spend every day together.”

“Hmm.. lucky me,” you purred.

Nax reached a large, calloused hand to your cheek. You blinked up at his dark-eyed countenance. “I’m the lucky one,” he declared solemnly.

His hand moved to your nape, and you leaned forward, bracing yourself against his broad chest. You pressed your lips to his. Nax held you and kissed you softly. You thrilled at the feel of his lips on yours. You’d kissed him before, on the cheek or forehead, but this was so much better. You smiled and curled back into his chest.

“That’s my new favorite way to begin Life Day,” you declared.

Nax’s chuckle rumbled beneath your ear. “Is that a new tradition then?”

“I think it must be,” you sighed happily.

“Hmm.. then may I suggest we get our traditional cup of caf and sit on the traditional sofa?”

You snorted out a laugh. “Sure, Nax. Sounds perfect.”

He snuggled beneath a blanket with you as you sipped steaming cups of caf, watching reports about Life Day celebrations across the galaxy on the HoloNet News. You sighed contentedly. Not even all the glittering displays of lights and decorations in glamorous places you’d never go could compare to the simple pleasure of being with Nax.

But the peaceful moment was broken by a knock at the door.

“Are you expecting someone?” Nax asked.

“No,” you said, standing and pulling your coat over your sleep clothes. You peek through the peephole. “It’s my cousin!”

You hit the control panel and the door swooshed open. You stepped back and let in Brenko and Corr, who wrestled a pine tree through the too-small doorway.

“What’s this?” you asked in amazement, looking from Brenko to Corr for an explanation.

“Well, you told me you didn’t have a tree for Life Day,” Brenko said, as if it should be obvious. “And we decided that was not okay.”

“Plus, I brought homemade puffcake and hot cider,” his husband added, going to the door to retrieve the box of pastries, a thermos, and a large cloth bag.

You smiled at him. “Well, you do make the best puffcake in the galaxy.”

“I do,” Corr affirmed with a broad grin. “Now, I believe you’ve yet to introduce me to your man.”

You blushed furiously at his phrasing.

Nax saved you from answering by stepping over to shake hands with Corr. “Nax,” he said. “Pleased to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Corr smiled. “I’ve heard good things about you.”

“Love the outfit,” Brenko snarked gently, propping the tree against the sofa.

You rolled your eyes at him, but then gave him a hug. “Thanks for this. It’s sweet of you. Intrusive and obnoxious, but sweet.”

He just laughed and hugged you back. “Anytime, dear cousin. You know you’re my favorite. I wasn’t about to let this day go without seeing you.”

“Kriff, guess I’m stuck with you,” you smiled, feeling like the day couldn’t possibly get any better.

But it did. Brenko, Corr, and Nax got along splendidly as you all decorated the tree with the bag of supplies your cousin had brought along. It wasn’t anything particularly fancy: just lights and some old home-made decorations from when you were children that Brenko had pulled out of storage. To you it was the most perfect Life Day tree ever.

When they left, both of them hugged you fiercely and whispered how much they would miss you at the family party later. Whether or not it was true, it did your heart good to hear it.

Nax began to gather the dirty cups and plates, and you watched his easy movements, heart warmed by how comfortable he was here with you. It reminded you, with a jolt, of the surprise you’d planned for him, and you slipped into the bedroom. 

You pulled out a box from the corner of the closet, and caught up Nax’s trooper helmet from where it sat on a table. Then you took it all into the other room and sat beneath the glowing Life Day tree. While Nax was busy in the kitchen, you started with the turquoise-accented helmet, centering it under the tree. Then you pulled a wide satin ribbon, also turquoise, from the box. You’d carefully lettered ‘Brothers fall but are never forgotten’ on the ribbon in Aurebesh. You draped it artfully over the helmet. Then you pulled out the little electric candles you’d bought, switched each of them on, and arranged them in a semi-circle around the helmet. Finally, you pulled the soft, gift-wrapped package from the box and set it beneath the tree branches to one side.

Stepping back to admire your work, you were joined by Nax, who had finished cleaning up. He wrapped his arms around you from behind as you leaned against his strong, broad chest. “Is this for me?” he asked, voice gruff with emotion.

You nodded and hugged his arms to you. “Life Day is for celebrating the people we love,” you said softly, “even if they’re not with us.”

Nax bent to place a kiss on the top of your head. “Thank you for always thinking of me.”

You twisted in his arms, looking up into his dark brown eyes. “I really care about you, you know.”

Nax lifted a hand to your chin, and pulled you into a gentle kiss. One led to another, and you pressed against him hungrily as his hand slipped around to the back of your neck to thread through your hair. You pulled him close, holding onto his shoulders, returning his kisses with eager affection. Nax pulled back to brush his thumbs over your cheeks, resting his forehead against yours. 

When you’d caught your breath, you said, “That’s not your only surprise, you know.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows raised slightly and his smile grew. “That so?”

Rather than answer, you smiled mysteriously and stepped backwards, tugging him along with you. You bent down, and lifted up the package you’d wrapped for him.

Nax’s eyes grew wide. “This is for me, pretty girl?” he asked.

“Of course, silly,” you grinned. “Who else? Open it up.”

He made quick work of the wrapping, tearing through it with ease. Then he unfolded a sweater. To the untrained eye, the design might look abstract. But it was made to resemble his armor, and Nax immediately recognized it. “My – my armor. You made this?”

You shook your head. “No, I had to commission it. I’m not good at that sort of thing. Do you like it?”

He crushed you to his chest, the sweater pressed between you. “I love it,” he said in your ear.

You gripped him tightly in return. “I’m glad.”

“I have something for you too,” he added.

“Really!” Your heart leapt. You hadn’t expected anything.

Nax smiled, pressed a kiss to your forehead, and then went into the kitchen. From a high cupboard you never used (because you couldn’t easily reach it), he pulled something wrapped in a towel. Looking sheepish, he handed it to you.

You took it with two hands, and pulled the towel away. It was a plate from Myndi’s Cafe – one of the chipped ones that were always thrown out. On it was painted the evening sky as the sunset faded into true night, and the stars were coming out. In the center were deep violet silhouettes of yourself and Nax, walking hand in hand. Tears pricked your eyes at the love and effort he’d put into the gift.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, voice hoarse with emotion. “Thank you.”

“Happy Life Day, pretty girl,” Nax said, lifting your chin with his hand.

You blinked away happy tears and replied, “Happy Life Day, Nax.”

He captured your lips in a warm kiss, and you melted into him.

Hope you enjoyed the story! (You can also find it on a03 here.)

Happy Holidays! 💚❤️💙

[chaotickryptonitecomputer]

Alone and Broken

Ajak’s voice came out clear and firm “This is where I say goodbye. You are free to go. I want you to go out there and live a life for yourselves. Not as soldiers, not with the purpose you were given. Find your own purpose and one day when we see each other again, I want you to tell me what you found”

As everyone begins to leave, and I quickly follow Gilgamesh and Thena who are speaking in quiet tones, down the steps and into the forest. Walking deeper into the trees they both seem to have finish their conversation before turning to me. “You’re not coming with us (Y/N)” Thena’s voice is low and cold

“I’m not afraid of you Thena, I know who you are, I know who I fell in love with.”

Gilgamesh glances at Thena before gesturing to the side and walking off.

“I don't love you; it was nice while it lasted a warm body after a battle but now that the deviants are gone, I have no need for someone as weak as you.”

I strike my head in disbelief. “I don't believe you it was never about a warm body and I’m not going to let you push me away when you need someone the most.” I stepped towards Thena attempting to touch her arm only for it to be slapped away.

“Maybe I wasn't clear I don't want you you're a burden thinking about you following me around for the next 100 years makes me sick to my stomach. I never loved you I only used you.” Thena’s voice is cold, and her face twisted into a disgusted angry expression.

My blood runs cold I start to feel sick to my stomach. Thena turns and walks away without another word leaving me standing alone in forest.

Every day since then I have been alone, I would forever be grateful to Ajak for giving us our freedom, but I was alone. The last words me and Thena exchanged running through my mind on a loop. I have been in love with Thena for as long as I could remember and for a while, I thought she was as well. I was one of the eternals aggressively against her losing her memories despite the fact of her Mahd Wy’ry, but she used me. I was always just a background character in the eternals. My powers concerning the elements were never much help, Ajax always told me that my heart was my greatest power but now I can't help but disagree because here I am three thousand years in the future and yet I'm still alone. Not one of my so-called eternal friends has ever come to look for me, not even Ajax.

I’m brought back to present day with a sharp knock and the door of my cabin. I shake my head to get rid of the memories like brushing away cobwebs before standing. I take a few steps towards the door before pausing and remembering I live in the middle of the woods there's no civilization for two hundred miles out. I grab a knife from the table I’ve been seated at and make my way towards the door before speaking. “Who’s there?” my voice come out raspy and dry, like sandpaper against a wall.

“It’s Sersi…. from college.” The voice says a bit hesitant at the end “Everyone else is with here too, well except Ajax and Gilgamesh.”  

My mind raced as I stumbled back from the door, bumping into a table, then a chair as I tried to process this. Several thoughts swirled around my head as I stepped closer to the door. Why were they here? None of them care about me, they all disappeared never caring abut me. As these thoughts run through my mind, I start to get angry.

Twisting the doorknob, I tear the door open, nearly taking it from its hinges. “What do you want, I’m not quite in the mood for company.”

They all stand there, surprised at the venom in my voice. I glance around taking in the faces of Sersi Kingo, Makkari, Druig, Ikaris, Sprite, Phastos, and Thena. The air catches in my throat as the sight of Thena, and it's like no time has passed and I've just had my heart broken all over again. She attempts to meet my eyes but ignore her and everyone else in focus on Sersi.

“We need your help, Ajax and Gilgamesh were killed by deviants and...”

“Why should I help you?” I cut her off before she can finish. “Why should I care about two dead people who didn't care about me, as a matter of fact why should I care about any of you.” I scoff shaking my head.

Sersi flinches as if slapped and looks over her shoulder to the rest of the group for help. Kingo steps forward a wide smile on his face. “Come on (Y/N) you know we've missed your…”

“Missed me? Ha yeah right, I hate liars been three thousand years and now you miss me. More like you just remembered I existed I need more help on your little mission. Now Druig and Makkari I can understand, but the rest of you just didn’t care enough to check on me.” As I speak ice grows around my feet and wind starts to circle around me forcing them to step back from the door as I step forward.

“(Y/N).” Thena says her voice holding none of the chill it did when we last spoke.

As I force myself to meet her eyes all the feelings, I've tried to hold back seem to rush back filling my ears with a roar. “You don't get to speak to me ever again, or did you forget what the last thing was you said to me. Let me give you a little reminder ‘It was nice to have a warm body after battle, I have no need for someone so weak’. Or hey this was my favorite ‘Thinking about you following me around for the next one hundred years makes me sick to my stomach. I never loved you’.  

By the time I'm finished speaking there is a cyclone circling around me while my fingers start to spark with the beginnings of fire. Thena’s face is twisted as I repeat her words back to her the same ones that have been running through my head for hundreds of years. Then Ajax’s words which were always kind and soothing Appear in my mind ‘Your heart, your compassion is your greatest gift never lose the love you have for others.’

Shaking my head once more I finally speak again. “I'll help you but after I want you all to leave me alone. Since you were all so good at it before it shouldn't be that big of a problem. I refuse to be a second-rate person in anyone's life especially people I used to consider my family.” Glaring at them all before my eyes rest on Thena once more.

“Please don’t look at me with such hatred. I didn’t mean to hurt you I didn’t mean any of what I said I was trying to protect you. We can still fix this.” Thena’s voice cracks as she looks back at me with despair

“Maybe in another life but you made me miserable, and I still loved you. How could you have thought this wouldn't hurt me? This can’t  be fixed you've ruined what was between us for good now.”

[eternadreeblissa]

Ok but the potential for Silent Prince Link. In that roleswap or so AU in BOTW

Listen, imagine him, the descendant of Hylia, trying to achieve his sealing powers but his prayers keep falling on deaf ears. The suffering he has to endure with a strict parent who doesnt give him much freedom, failing expectations so exceptionally well he beats himself up silently and secretly resents Hylia. We all know that but imagine inserting darling for a sec: he meets this person, who's been nothing but kind to him. They don't berate him or scold him, they don't expect much from him and wants nothing more but for him to be happy and given relief from his duties. His heart has never been touched and caressed so gently like soul, so he just, follows darling around, maybe roping them in strolls somewhere outside the kingdom. He takes every excuse to spend time with you, including skipping his training, or, maybe he has you with him instead of Zelda guarding him.

Now, his relationship with Zelda, isn't the greatest. One of the people who speaks their minds aloud to him (AKA near outright berating). I imagine this Zelda thinks he has it easy, or that maybe he's so privileged that he can do whatever he wants. Whatever it is she just got the wrong idea abt him. She doesn't like the fact she has to babysit him or smth guarding him; the guy avoids her like a plague anyway! (Asides from escorting him to the shrines and all. But on Link's side, he just didn't want to handle Zelda's criticism on him on top of his own parent's disappointment) she was living her best life being herself bonding with her mom, but she had to be taken away bcs she had the whole knight lineage thing under her name.

Anyway meeting darling was a breath of fresh air to him. I imagine he thinks of them as an escape: similar to how people escape reality. He spends nearly every waking moment with them, or at least as much as time and duties can allow. He never met someone who saw him for himself: as Link. Not the prince, not the descendant of Hylia. Just... Link. And she loved and cared for him like a real person.

Zelda, didn't exactly like this. Mostly bcs asides from already getting in trouble for not having Link in her vision as part of her job, if she lets you go on you might as well steal the prince away from Hyrule the more he skips duties and she might even be replaced. And while that would be awesome she'll be in even more trouble with the king or queen, AKA: Link's parent. She couldnt go back to the life she once had, not when it was taken from her and robbed of her childhood and all...

Yes, you and Link have to avoid Zelda a lot. He's actually pretty good at hiding. While he gets heavily lectured by his own personal guard its all worth it spending time with you.

But then... Hylia happened.

Why now, of all times, did his powers awaken and why of all people, did it have to be you? You were the real light of his life, in a world of darkness and oppression. The only one who gave him hope and more to live for than just his duties. Why now, when he was about to confess and run away with you, and he had you in his arms, did suddenly his own voice betray him? He wasn't himself— no, it wasn't him speaking AT ALL. THIS IS A DIFFERENT PERSON TALKING THROUGH HIM PLEASE STOP.

But he was helpless, helpless as his words were twisted to hurt you: no you weren't useless to him, you weren't in the way! You were everything he needed in life— no you were his life! He needed you! He truly loved you please! But your tears fell from his eyes, and just as he thought it was over, his hands glowed gold, he panicked, not understanding what's going on, but his hands were raised towards you, and his voice chanted; and in a bright flash, you were gone.

No. No... NO!

He fell to the ground. His life just came crashing down. Any light and joy and hope, all the good things he had in life, were taken with you as you were sealed— no, vanquished by his own hands. (he couldn't bear the thought he truly did seal you away from Hyrule forever)

It... It wasn't him. No it wasn't...

That light. That golden light. The one that his hands were forcibly used against you. There's only one person who he knows could do that to you: Hylia.

If he only disliked Hylia for putting him all through this not answering his call before, then he certainly hates her with every fibre of his being for making him lose you.

(Under the cut if yall are interested in how my OC Ava handles this! And it has some more details on how things happened—)

When she met silent prince link, he was out hiding from Zelda again and escaping from his well, life, while Ava stumbled into his world separated from the chain.

I imagine, she started off being all nice and everything to him. While Link is confused cuz this gal thinks he's the hero? Anyway, they started off a bit smooth at least and this first meeting alone had him enjoy her company, and wishes to see her more.

So they meet up more and more. Link clarified he wasn't the hero, or heroine in this matter, but didn't reveal he was the prince either. All he said to her was that, he was just Link, a nobody. And he wants to know more about her. Ava respected that, and they talked and all, but at some point Zelda found out abt her and shooed her off. (Link has never disliked Zelda more than he has now, astonishing really, currently nearly up with his resentment for Hylia)

Thank goodness he found her in some of the usual spots she visited. It was a good thing she told him about it too (if she hadn't he'd scour the entirety of Hyrule just to find her—) he tells her not to be discouraged to continue meeting up with him. He truly did enjoy his time together with her, and he doesnt like Zelda or pretty much all of Hyrule kingdom in general, sometimes including his own parent, and especially Hylia. He then spills his past to her, leaving his whole heart bare to her being.

Ava, in processing this, is then a little conflicted: His story is just like Wild's except... he's in flora's position? Wherever she is, she's somewhere very, very far. History can't be turned upside its head and forget everything and have... This. But how did it happen? Asides her thoughts, Ava understood, and would be more than happy to be there for him. Link couldn't be any more happier.

...There's just one problem: Hylia. She isn't sure how... They could continue on for long. She tells his she wants to stay a bit and help him out but, Hylia, as far as shes known that goddess, meddled a lot with her life. Often using Zelda to seal her away every time (sometimes she beats the Zeldas to it, by going back home on her own. Either the Zeldas sealed her away willingly, or forcibly, as there are some who didn't actually mean to do anything. Regardless, she was often in all sorts of troubles of messes because of her. All of this lore bit abt her can be explained for another day jsufbfhhb). She tells him Hylia doesn't like her, and if he's a descendant as he actually says he is, then she might.. use him against her.

Hearing all this, Link was furious. His resentment for that white goddess just increased a ton. He told her he won't let it happen. No matter what. He promises. Ava could only hope that promise can still hold true even with Hylia looming...

So they spent more time together, and they bonded a lot. But the King/Queen heard Link hasn't been doing his duty, (as if he hasn't already been slacking off in their eyes) so Ava didn't see Link for a few days and worried about him. The next time Ava saw a glimpse of him, he was out with Zelda, who seemed more of a hawk than she was before, heading out for training and everything.

It was quite horrid for Link :'(( so when he got back to her, he was latching onto her like a koala, wanting her attention on him and only him. If anyone tried to take her eyes away from him he glares and it's the most chilliest thing anyone has ever seen, nor did they even know Link was capable with that kind of expression! (Considering his lack thereof, in the public eye). Ava had to distract him and tell him to stop or at least, lessen that just a bit, as she takes him away somewhere more isolated where nobody will, hopefully get hurt. (He looks like he's just one breath away from hurling a book at someone's face—)

Anyway, Link wanted to catch back on lost time spent being away from her. And they did that! But again... Hylia happened.

After coming back to train once again or so, Link felt different. A bad different. He feels like he wanted to wash himself off from this feeling all over his body. He probs bathed like 3 times but, it didn't get rid of it. Probably bcs he despises Hylia a lot now and being around her mere statues or stuff just sickens him. He hopes all of that will be forgotten or washed away around Ava's presence but haha it couldn't be any more worse :'))) just like time and time again, Hylia used Link, awakening his powers and sealed her away.

...In the end, she didn't learn her lesson did she? Try as she might, leaving before she was sealed off from any of Hylia's vessels but, here she is. She stayed too long. She got attached again. She got both of them attached again and now, they're both going to be hurt, wounded from this. It's her fault she let this happen. She could only hug him in tears, trying to be there for him and comfort even though he spoke piercing words and trying to get her off from him. But deep down, this wasn't him. It was Hylia. Link always told her he loved her company and wanted nothing more but for her to stay. But just like before, with every link she met, no matter what she gets separated every. Single. Time.

So before she completely vanishes into the light and she burns in pain from its power, she could only tell Link, through her tears, she'll come back again. Just like before, as well. Because even though despite the fact she will always end up leaving or not staying for as long as she wanted, even though both her world and his wanted them apart, they'll just meet each other, again and again. In another time, or a different era, maybe a whole other world even. It cannot be helped, they were both connected. Maybe in his case, the hero's spirit didnt call her like it did with the others, simply because he doesn't have it, being Hylia's descendant. But somehow, even without it, she was here, met Link again, and similar scenarios were played. It's almost like... They truly were soulmates weren't they?

Because of that, she assures him: she'll come back, as a goddess. She'll train more, work harder, learn, just so she can stand against the selfish divine who kept meddling with their lives. She'll be there for him, and he won't have to suffer for so long in silence, but for now... It's farewell, until they meet again.

It was the one hope Link clung onto for dear life, as everything else in his world faded from mind.

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Angst with a Happy Ending, Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: There's a reason you're the woman you are. Actually, multiple reasons. History comes to the surface as you contemplate Jake and whatever is developing between you two.

Masterlist

Chapter 3

Chapter 4: Kind of Moderately Tragic Backstory

You watch Jake walk away from your house till he disappears around the corner. He's found a small chink in the armor that's served you well throughout your life. What is it about him that makes you want to let down your guard, let down the facade, and let him in? You had just met this ego maniacal fly boy last night, crashed him into the ground and left him a charred husk in front of his squadron, left him floundering in his own stupidity for underestimating you like so many other men.

Why did he try again?

More importantly, why did you say yes to the game?

He is undeniably attractive, that's a given, but it was something about his self confidence, it seems unbreakable. Mostly you could understand attempting the impossible and could respect him for it. Besides, it was just a baseball game and dinner followed by some very, very good making out and flirting. It could end there, right?

You know yourself well enough to know when you're lying to yourself. This felt different, like you were walking into a room in your memories that you'd locked off to years ago, when everything about your relationship with Liam had blown up. The part of your heart that was raw and tender was put on a shelf, in a room that you had locked away never to be seen again. But now, this random guy is already knocking on that door? You don't even think Jake knows it, he’s probably just chasing some tail while he’s here, you try to tell yourself.

You grab a glass of wine with the bottle and sit out on your back deck and look at the stars you can see with the light pollution. Something about tonight has your mind flipping back through memories you'd filed away.

Your whole life has felt like a battle. The intense levels of competition in gymnastics before you broke your ankle ending your Olympic trajectory. Competing at that level taught you more than just how to stick a landing after spinning through the air 20 feet about the ground, or how to make the impossible look effortless. It taught you where to take all the fear, the self doubt, thoughts of failure and other things you couldn't deal with and lock them in a box to be dealt with later. It taught you to build an inner self protected by a shell so hard that it’s impenetrable. Show the world only the strongest part of you, hide the weakness away. How could you deal with anything like that when you 10 fucking years old and your parents expected nothing less than an Olympic gold medal, your whole life built for one purpose. Fracturing your ankle at 15 hadn’t only been bone breaking, it had been the chains of a life you didn't choose falling down. It had been your freedom.

You'd been able to be a fairly normal teenager after that, although still impossibly perfect and high achieving. That shell of protection serving you well throughout high school. For once in your life you found your own inspiration in the stories of the Apollo Space Program. The idea that just the human brain and pure tenacity had accomplished the impossible, launching an inconceivably large piece of metal and a billion parts that hadn’t ever existed together off the ground, and sending three brave souls beyond the world we’d known since the beginning of time was astounding. That’s when you realize what you wanted to do with your life, soar through the skies in a different way. Gymnastics, which had been your burden, was the means for you to go to college and pursue your own dreams.

The battle just continued even through college and that shell just got thicker. Steel under a brilliant smile. Dealing with the people who thought you were only there to get a MRS degree, underestimated you, or thought you'd fail out , the ones outright harassed you, surviving all that kept adding to that armor making you stronger on the outside. You had thought you had finally arrived at your dreams when you showed up that first day at SpaceX in Florida, shiny PhD in hand ready to touch the heavens.

Guys came and went. The boyfriends who couldn't understand or cope with the long hours, feeling like the dumb one, earning less had all fallen away. Each time one of them left it was about how you weren't caring enough, didn't coddle them in the way they expected to be coddled, challenged them too much, which just fed their own insecurity and jealousy. All the bravado was just an illusion, men wanting to claim you as the top prize without understanding what it meant to be with you. Each one adding to that armor.

Then you met Liam fucking McCallister, humble and secure you thought. The exact opposite of male ego, what you perceived was a quiet confidence. The long hours and insane workload at SpaceX threw you two together a lot. A casual drink after work turned into dinner and more dates and suddenly you were in a relationship with someone you thought was to be your partner in this life. It felt like an equal partnership, where you were growing together, breathless with what you could achieve together. Of course you said yes when he proposed; this was the one you thought. you didn't realize how wrong you'd been till that one Monday morning that you will relive too many times in your life.

That Saturday night, you'd finally had the breakthrough you'd been looking for in the satellite distribution system for the Starlink satellites. With thousands of satellites to launch the company needed a reliable system. You jumped out of bed at 3 AM and went to the whiteboard on your fridge in the kitchen and sketched out the details. You woke Liam up to see what you'd come up with, saw the delight in his eyes as he comprehended what you had done. He picked you up and kissed you telling you that you were brilliant, that this design would reduce the turnaround time for the rockets by 5 days at least. Heady on the feeling of discovery you dragged him back to bed and rode him hard and fast till you both shattered like a meteor across the sky.

You arrived at work a little bit later than Liam, as you decided to ride your bike in, your energy needing an outlet after refining the satellite deployment concept on Sunday. When you approached your desk, everyone was missing from their cubes. You looked over to the fishbowl conference room and saw Liam at the whiteboard with the entire team seated at the conference table. Your blood ran cold when you saw what he had drawn for the group. It was your design, the same sketches that you had in your laptop bag ready to show your boss this morning. You stepped into the conference room just to hear Liam say with no hesitation,

“With this satellite distribution system I’ve come up with we can reduce our turnaround time by 5 days.”

He looked at you and smiled. Our boss got up and gave him a hardy pat on the back,

“Brilliant work, Liam. Exactly the kind of thing we like to see here at SpaceX, we’ll call Elon this afternoon.”

You waited by the door as the conference room emptied and caught Liam by the wrist and dragged him over to one of the smaller huddle conference rooms. As soon as you shut the door you said,

“What the actual fuck, Liam? Your satellite system? Did you even mention that it was my idea, and did you actually copy my sketches without telling me?”

“Babe, don’t worry about it, soon enough what’s mine is yours, ours.”

“Liam, we’re not talking about a fucking book collection, you stole my idea, my innovation. You’re going to go up in the company on something you didn’t come up with. In what fucking world is that okay to you?”

“It’s not that big of a deal, you’ll come up with something else soon. You’re just that brilliant.”

“You really don’t get it do you? This,” you gestured between you and him,

“Is supposed to be a partnership, 50-50, not you take what you need and hope that I come up with something else. You’re supposed to be proud of my accomplishments, not steal them.”

He reached out to touch your arms and draw you into an embrace.

“Don’t fucking touch me, right now. I hope you’ll have the fucking intelligence to figure out why this is over, you god damn asshole.”

You walked out and down the hallway, fueled only by rage, the sorrow held at bay by a fiery anger. You walked into your boss's office and shut the door.

“What’s up, Elsa? Can I help you with something?”

“Gary, I saw Liam’s presentation this morning. I need to let you know that I developed the concept this weekend and that Liam copied my sketches and calcs and presented it as his work.”

Ed's eyebrows raised in surprise,

“Holy shit, Elsa. I don’t know what to say. Why would he do that? We’ll get this corrected on our end, but what about you? He’s your fiancee, after all.”

You took a long swallow and said, “That’s something I’m going to have to deal with today. I’m going to be out the rest of the day. Consider this my resignation, effective tomorrow. I’ll leave my badge on my desk.”

For the first time since you had worked there you saw Gary for the person he was,

“I understand, Elsa, I don’t like it and I’m losing my best engineer, but this isn't something a person can just sweep under the rug like nothing happened. Liam will get dealt with. Let me know if you need any help with sorting all this out.”

“Thanks, Gary. It’s been good.”

You said just as your voice started to crack and the tears start to flow. You grabbed your stuff and ran out the building before you could bump into Liam. You're back at your apartment in 20 minutes, the bike ride helping to bleed some of the adrenaline off. Within four hours you have the parts of your life you want to bring with you packed into the back of a U-haul Trailer hooked up to your ancient Jeep Cherokee. You take his engagement ring off and leave it on the counter, the irony of the meteorite as the stone hitting you right then. A rock that soared across the heavens bright and bold that came crashing down cold and dead to earth. As you closed the door for the last time, you could feel the tiny window you had left open to your heart closing at the same time.

The fallout was as expected, Liam exposed for his forgery, his dismissal from the company, the angry then sad text messages and calls. You blocked him in every way you could and did what felt like the best thing to do, you drove home, drove all the way to Michigan and right back to your parents' arms. Within two weeks you had a job offer with Lockheed Martin and your were driving to San Diego, another U-haul trailer in tow and a whole new horizon of promise awaiting you, a spare room in Lydia’s apartment ready for you, and a chapter in your life firmly closed, and your heart harder than before.

The sound of jet overhead, brought you back to the present. You looked down at the bottle you had brought out. Luckily, one glass had only turned into one more as you pondered your life. The jet also brought to mind Jake, even though you knew it wasn’t one of his. You hadn't been able to identify it in the dark, just heard it and saw a few navigational lights.

There was something about Jake, you had written him off as a someone who was all bluster, all ego, but it occurred to you that you can’t fake being a fighter pilot, that in the air the only thing that kept you from slipping over that edge of death each time was pure belief in yourself and your capabilities. He truly believed he was the best because anything less wouldn’t work. That was true belief, true confidence, someone who didn’t need the world to validate him. That’s why he wasn’t intimidated by you, because every day he achieves the impossible and you had thrown down a challenge and he didn’t back down.

You finish your wine, hoping to calm your brain enough to get some sleep. You head into the house to get ready for bed.

You're brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed when your phone dings with a new text message:

Jake Jackass: I had a great time today and I think you did too. I'd like to see you again soon.

You chuckle remembering that you need to change his contact name on your phone.

You: I did. There's a vintage aircraft fly-in down near Chula Vista next weekend, interested?

Jake Jackass: Sounds great. Got any plans tomorrow?

You: Actually, I've got a century bike ride planned for the morning/ early afternoon, we could meet up for a drink later.

Jake Jackass: A century bike ride?

You: A 100 mile bike ride.

Jake Jackass:. That's crazy long.

You: I like to build my stamina, 😉.

Jake Jackass: I don't need any more ideas from you, my head's full already.

You: Only your head's full, are you telling me you’re less than a handful in other places?

You're surprised that you actually sent it and drop the phone on your bed and emit a squeak in alarm. You're sexting, right? This is sexting right? Internal panic alarms start to blare.

A muffled ding from your phone on the bed brings you back to reality. Your face is frozen in a cringe filled grimace as you pick up your phone to read the text.

Jake Jackass: Oh baby, I think we know I'm way more than a handful (or a mouthful when it applies.). That drink tomorrow sounds good. Text me in the afternoon to figure out the details.

You: It's a date, sweet dreams Jake.

Jake Jackass: You too.

You fall asleep, your heart feeling a little bit lighter than it had been in awhile.

@mayhemmanaged

Chapter 5

@callmemana

@dempy

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

@callsign-viper

@senjoritanana

[stoopid-turtle]

made-up mbti types for dd and gg

So the GQ event that dd attended recently (you know, the one with the love hat) was supposedly gonna share his MBTI type with us. I don't think they ever did, probably because dd just didn't do the test thing. I'm not surprised we never got to see his mbti type, but I did have my own guess as to what he'd score, so I figured I'd share here.

(As a note, MBTI is pretty much junk science but it's fun. Just don't take it too seriously. I used to be really into it in a fannish sense and it's the closest I get to woo-stuff. If you don't know what MBTI is, here have fun.)

Cut to the chase: I'd guess dd is ISFP. My reasoning below the cut.

Introvert - The best way I've found to describe the difference is that introverts recharge by being alone. That is, a weekend full of social engagements is something they need some alone-time after. For an extrovert, social events, themselves, recharge them. Being alone is what's exhausting and what they try to avoid.

DD's probably rarely fully alone, given his busy schedule and the life of a celebrity. But introverts have ways to introverting, even among a bunch of people. I think sometimes people conflate "introvert" to mean "shy", but they're not the same. I don't think dd is particularly shy. It's just all about where your energy comes from.

Sensing - This one is about how you process information.

As an illustration, my bff and I were on a road trip once. She's the type who liked to literally pull over a smell the freaking flowers. And she could name every single flower/plant/tree she came across. Her eye for detail and ability to describe things with precision is always boggling to me, because to me, the most I can say is something like "It was sunny and the trees are green". Very vague. All about the overall impression rather than the details.

In MBTI terms, my bff would be Sensing while I'm Intuition (this is the N. Just go with it). Intuition folks are thought of as the big picture, abstract thinkers while Sensing is about the details and about the Facts of the World.

I mentioned before that dd strikes me as a pretty literal thinker, and that type of thinking overlaps with Sensing more than Intuition.

Feeling - People get confused by this one. It's not about whether the person expresses emotions or anything like that. It's about decision-making. When making a choice, does this person weigh the pros and cons? Try to come to a reasonable and sound decision? Or do they go by gut, following their emotions like animes tell them to?

This is hard to assess because we don't know much about how dd goes about making the decisions he makes. We don't know what went into his decision to go into idol training, say, or why he put his hat in the ring for The Untamed.

I'm making a guess that he's more driven by emotion than thinking. This isn't to say he acts blindly without any thought or that he never makes rational decisions, but he weighs his feelings highly. He'll pursue a gay romantic relationship with another celebrity, despite the risks, because he's in love and, you know, he follows his heart. His decision to submit his headshot for The Untamed, especially, strikes me as being Feeling-driven. Given his career at the time, acting in a BL adaptation was off the beaten path and risky. He lost fans because of it.

I think both gg and dd make a feelings-based decision to drop candies for turtles. There's no rational business case to do so. It's simply because they value having a group of fans who recognize them as a couple and they want to keep those fans with them.

Perceiving - This one's about how you plan or organize your time (or don't).

Judgers are the type to have a planner with a set schedule a routine. They have trouble adapting when their schedule gets disrupted. Perceivers are more go with the flow, able to take things as they come. When taking vacays, they would rather not have a packed itinerary bc they want the freedom to go where the moment takes them.

This is also something I don't feel I have a lot of insight on. DD's schedule is heavily managed and heavily packed, and he spends most of his time diligently following along with that schedule. That's part of his job, though. On his own, would he be inclined to keep to a schedule? I kinda don't think so.

I'm just going based on his...um...general chaotic energy. That and his tendency to do his KPI social media posts all at the last minute. Classic Perceiver move.

***

So, ISFP. In truth, each of these traits is a spectrum and people show examples all along the different traits at different times (for instance, dd's decision-making in SDC is typically strategic rather than based on feelings). Most things are based on context. But this feels right to me, overall.

For gg, I haven't watched near as much of him as I have of dd, but a guess would be INFJ.

Feel free to share your own ideas. Or squee about the love hat. Whatever. 🐢🐢🐢

[only-lonely-stars]

The Gift of New Life

Oneshot – (FFN) (AO3)

Summary:

Zane had sacrificed himself to save all of Ninjago from the Overlord. Pixal didn't go to his funeral. Instead, she went to the factory floor. Zane, of course, didn't stay dead, but how he lived afterwards is yet a mystery... Here is one possible story of his rebirth. aka, "How Zane Defied Death (the first time)"

Anyone who said "time flies" was wrong; Pixal had never felt time move so slowly. It had only been one week since the end of the Overlord's second attempt to conquer Ninjago, but the world had changed immeasurably, and no less with the loss of Zane. As she thought about it, Pixal's half of a heart hurt. The very one who had given her his heart was gone– cast into oblivion– dead and buried. Even the memorial service was too painful for her. Instead, she stayed in Borg Tower and watched as the Ninja said their last words to their beloved steel friend.

"You are Zane, a droid like me. What does Zane stand for?"

"I stand for peace, freedom, and courage." How long it had been since Pixal heard those first words. They almost felt like she was hearing them again.

"Your hardware is outdated, and your processor is slow and incompatible." Pixal once didn't know how beautiful Zane's differences were; once, she mindlessly followed her code, not her heart.

"Why are you so different?" If only she could hear that voice speak to her again. She turned from the window with an unnecessary sigh (no droid could need air) and looked toward Borg's computer. There, on the screen, was a camera feed from the day she met Zane. Hadn't it been blank just minutes before?

"We're all different, but I don't feel so different around you." Pixal gasped and ran to the computer.

"I wasn't recalling that voice! Zane, is that you?" Was he here, with her, somehow? She had always known him to perform small miracles.

"You are vital to me." There it was, the voice speaking again.

"You are vital to me," she replied, quiet. "Are you… here?"

"I shall see you again," the videos replied, before switching to a view of the nindroid assembly line. Pixal nodded before running to the elevator and slamming the call button. As she descended within it, she hardly dared to breathe. As soon as the elevator doors opened, she bolted out onto the conveyor belt, watching as the robotic machines turned their eerily human heads toward her. She held her breath, waiting for a signal.

"Are we compatible now?"

-----

Clank, clank, clank– the sound of a hammer rang throughout the factory. Three weeks had passed in a flash, so unlike before, but this time the distorted passage of time was a good thing. Pixal had been working non-stop trying to rebuild Zane's body, while he worked from inside the digital systems of Borg Industries to reconstitute his mind. A few small memories were lost, like Cole's favorite type of cake, but he was alive and intact, so it was good enough. Pixal had run a diagnostic on him at the beginning of the process, and she shuddered at the cold feeling that sprung up along her spine at the thought of Zane's untimely end. How awful that had been…

"Have you finished it, Pixal?" Zane's voice echoed from speakers, with a camera trained on her to act as his eyes.

"Oh, yes! It's all in place. I just need to finish the chestplate."

"Wonderful." Zane smiled, and despite him being the Ninja of Ice, it was like sunshine on a spring day (in Pixal's unbiased, logical opinion). She gave the hammer one final strike before putting it aside.

After fastening the plate to his new titanium body, Pixal turned to the computer, where a digital avatar of Zane waited. "Are you ready, Zane? You can commence the upload at any time."

"Yes, let's begin. Thank you, Pixal." Zane's avatar fizzled out immediately after.

A robotic voice echoed loudly in Pixal's ears. WARNING. Certain files are incompatible with newer BorgTech™ systems and may not properly align. Commence upload anyway? Pixal shook her head and pressed a button.

"Upload will commence in 3… 2… 1… Do not disconnect the power source."

-----

Aquamarine eyes flickered to life as a viewscreen displayed diagnostics. A titanium body sat up, creaking from its newness. A hand stretched out. "Pixal…?"

"Zane. Welcome back." Pixal took his hand and pulled him to his feet. "I have missed you."

"I have… missed you too, but I cannot remember why… Was I gone?" Zane blinked owlishly at her.

"Do you not remember it, Zane? You sacrificed yourself in order to freeze the Overlord." Pixal took Zane's other hand. "You saved everyone, including me."

Zane shook his head. "I feel out of sorts. It must have been the upload. I do not think this disorientation will last very long."

"I am inclined to agree with you. We should go meet with the Ninja and tell them the good news– they have not yet been informed of our project, in case something went wrong." While she did not say it, Pixal's fears were palpable; if they had failed, how would she have told them their brother was gone a second time?

Zane nodded. "Let us be glad it succeeded." He took Pixal's hand, and a pleasant staticky feeling ran up Pixal's arm. She smiled, but Zane's returning grin was short-lived. "I cannot remember some things, Pixal. Some of my memory files are missing or corrupted. I am concerned that perhaps the upload was not as successful as we thought it was."

Pixal's eyes widened. "You have more missing memories? What is the magnitude of their severity?"

"I do not think they are severe at the moment, but they may worsen. I am afraid only time will tell if they are resolved. We should meet my brothers and tell them; perhaps Jay or Nya can help." Zane sighed– to Pixal's ears, it seemed oddly mechanical.

"Very well, then. Shall we go?" Pixal held her hand out to Zane, who took it with a smile.

"We shall." Moments later, his vision turned black, consciousness lost.

-----

Zane blinked rapidly, his new eyes flickering slightly as he came to full consciousness. He looked around frantically, spotting Pixal shut down in a corner. "Pixal!"

"Hey, tin can, you're awake! Welcome to my humble abode," an unfamiliar voice called.

As Zane looked around, he saw no identifying markings of any kind; only the walls of a warehouse. He tried to stand, only to find that his hands were tied to a post, making that impossible without help. "Who are you?" He struggled against his bindings.

"That's not gonna work, buddy. You're well and truly stuck there." The stranger approached, remaining half-clad in shadow. Only half his face was visible, the other half obscured by a bandanna and an eyepatch with a telescoping lens. A wide-brimmed hat cast long shadows on his face, belying creases on his face. "Besides, we wouldn't want you getting hurt. You're worth an awful lot of money."

"You kidnapped us? Do you not know who we are?" Zane protested.

"Of course I do! That's the point. Too bad you're easier to transport in hibernate mode; you're such a bundle of joy to talk to." The man stepped closer. "I suppose it doesn't matter anyway; I can just switch you off."

"Don't do it!" Zane shouted, trying to lean away. "What have you done to Pixal?"

"Nothing that can't be undone," the man said with a chuckle. "Same with you." With those final words, he reached out; Zane shut his eyes tightly, and then he felt no more.

-----

Pixal blinked several times and sat up, raising her head to look around her. In front of her stood Zane, looking frightened for his life. "Zane? What happened?" She shook her head. "It seems I have been hard reset. Do you know who did this?"

"It was a stranger, Pixal. I do not know his name. He did the same to me." Zane kneeled before her, a hand resting on her cheek. "He has taken us hostage. My global positioning system says we are currently off the eastern coast of the mainland, on an unmarked island."

Pixal nodded and looked around. "Where are we? Some sort of holding cell?"

"We are in the back of a truck, I believe. It has not moved for some time." Zane glanced at the door. "I cannot access my elemental powers at all, and I am unarmed; with my neural drive's current state, I am also unable to open the door. We are trapped." He looked back to Pixal, a deep frown upon his artificial features. "I am terribly sorry you were dragged into this."

"Do not apologize, Zane. It was unavoidable, and I would have it no other way. I am glad I am with you." Pixal smiled sadly, taking Zane's hand in her own. "After all, we are compatible."

Zane smiled. "Yes, we are." As if to punctuate his statement, a loud thump occurred against the wall of the truck. "It seems we are not alone."

A voice rang out, muffled by the truck walls. "Gah, stupid cultists! Can't even carry crates right! This deal had better be worth it."

Pixal locked eyes with Zane. "How is your neural drive? I hesitate to believe we will be alone for long."

Zane shook his head. "It is in a bad state. I seem to have even more corrupted files. It will take a long time to dredge the backups from my hard drive."

Pixal frowned. "It will have to do for now."

The voice outside the truck shouted again. "Hey, watch it! That's valuable cargo, straight from Stiix!" It paused, then took a different tone. "Ah, Chen. There you are."

A whiny voice shouted in return. "There you are, Ronin! Do you have the robot?"

"Yes, I have the nindroid," the first– likely Ronin– responded.

"Let me see him!" the whiny voice, which must belong to Chen, shouted. "I need to know you kept your deal!"

"Hey, hold it," Ronin responded. "Give me the money first."

"Yes, yes," Chen replied, his tone off-handed. "Clouse, give him the money. I want to see the prize!"

"I brought Borg's droid too. The nindroid's smitten with her. You never know how helpful it is to have a bargaining chip."

"Yes, you're right! Clouse, add an extra three hundred for her. It's a pleasure doing business with you, Ronin."

"Yeah. A pleasure." The voices fell silent, and Pixal nodded at Zane.

"Here's our chance," Pixal whispered.

Zane nodded and stood, helping her stand up too. "We won't get a second. Ready?"

"Ready." The two of them stood apart, ready to fight. A minute later, the door creaked open, and Pixal launched herself at the men opening the door. After landing a kick, a man with a sort of telescoping eyepatch grabbed her foot and threw her onto her back.

"You're a feisty one, huh sweetheart? Careful, don't hurt yourself," the man snarked.

Pixal sat herself up abruptly and pushed herself back. After managing to stand, she glanced at Zane, only to find him frozen. "Zane…?"

Zane shook his head rapidly, looking confused. "What is going on? Did I miss something?"

Pixal's eyes widened. "Oh, no. Your neural drive!"

The man in the hat laughed harshly and turned to a man next to him with facial hair and a large purple boa. "Well isn't that handy. Look, Chen. He can't even fight you off! I'd say that's a deal for you."

Chen laughed. "Yes, yes, you're right! Clouse, get our men to take them to their cells!" Another man, this one with a greasy mustache and slicked hair, nodded and gestured to several tattooed men wearing skulls, who entered the truck. Pixal edged away from them with Zane, but they hit a wall and the men grabbed them by the arms.

"Zane!" Pixal called frantically, struggling unsuccessfully to free herself. "You must fight back!"

Zane shook his head and pulled his arms free, only to have another man pin them. "My d-defensive programs are not respon-ponding! I-I-I-I am unable to fight th-th-them!" His voice glitched painfully, displeasure evident on his face. The men wrenched his arms behind him and began marching him out of the truck. "Pixal!"

Pixal stared in horror as her own captors marched her in the same direction. As Zane glitched erratically, she tried to defend herself, but she could only watch as they were brought to two identical cell doors. Zane was thrown in the right, and she in the left.

Zane shouted as he was thrown against a wall and shackled. His captors immediately slammed and locked the door, as Pixal was locked in her own. "I am unharmed. Are you?"

Pixal ran to the window connecting their cells and shook her head. "I am as safe as I can be. You are shackled, Zane!"

"Yes," he replied with displeasure. "I will be able to cut them, I believe, but not any time soon. The saw in my arm will suffice."

Pixal nodded. "Very well." As soon as she said that, the door to her cell slammed open, revealing more of the tattooed men. She gasped and backed up to the wall, frantically searching for an opening for escape, yet finding none. "Do not touch me!"

The mustached man approached from the back of the group and grinned. "I find it difficult to see the power behind your words, robot."

"I said, don't touch me," Pixal exclaimed. "I am a droid, and I can defend myself!"

"Well, that poses a problem," the man simpered. "But that can be remedied." He gestured to her. "You know what to do." With that, the men advanced.

"Stop!" Pixal held out her arms in protest, only for the men to encircle her and remove her arms at the shoulder sockets. Red warnings flashed across her visual interface.

"Pixal!" Zane exclaimed, pulling uselessly against his chains. "What are they doing to you?"

"T-they are disconnecting my body!" Pixal replied. "They have taken my arms- You can't take that ou-" Her voice cut off abruptly.

"PIXAL!" Zane cried, but there was no response other than simpering laughter.

"My mistake. I seem to have removed her neural drive. Such a pity for that beautiful body to be useless." The mustached man came to the window. "Let this be a lesson, nindroid. Fighting back will only result in pain."

Zane shook his head. "You can't do this."

"You misunderstand, nindroid. I can, and I will." With that, the man stepped away.

Zane shook his head, his eyes falling to the floor as he uselessly tried to sob. His digital breath hitched, and he almost laughed; they had forgotten to add tear ducts to his new body. A fresh wave of emotion washed over him, pushing against his skull, and warnings flared across his vision. Warning: intense emotional experience will increase file corruption. Calm down. Zane laughed emptily and continued to silently sob, the warnings multiplying. It didn't matter that his files were slowly corrupting and disappearing; Pixal was gone, and nobody even knew he was alive again. There would be no rescue for him. He hung his head as his eyes closed, the warnings dyeing his vision red. Let him forget; it would hurt less.

[sabo-has-my-heart]

I Don’t Remember

A Sanji/Sabo angst/fluff fic

Warnings: angst, memory loss, slight fluff, Sabo ‘stealing’ Sanji’s girlfriend,

Word Count: 1410

     You were his sweet angel, his beautiful goddess, the love of his life. You were his everything, his sun, moon, and stars, his entire world, his personal All Blue. Except that wasn’t who you were anymore. His darling angel was no longer his, not since that day. The goddess that had once showered him in love, the woman who’d once shared his bed, she was locked away now, deep within the recesses of your mind, buried away and forgotten. Could your memories even be returned? Even if they did, would you still be the same woman he’d loved? Especially now, as he watched you smile and laugh with him. 

     Sabo smiled at you as he talked with you, enjoying your company. When his little brother had called asking about amnesia, he’d done his best to help, but so far, you’d remembered nothing. According to his little brother’s crew, you were still you. Your personality, your smile, whatever it was that made you quintessentially you was still there, you just didn’t remember anything before waking up aboard the Sunny surrounded by unfamiliar faces. He could relate. Waking up with no idea as to who or where you were. Lost and confused as you tried to piece together who you’d once been. Except you’d been part of his little brother’s crew, they had memories to tell you and things to show you to try and help your memory return. Still, you looked just as lost as he’d once felt. So he did his best to cheer you up, to help you and to make things easier. 

     Watching the two of you interact was becoming harder and harder to bear. It was obvious you were growing closer to him. And why not? You seemed to have a lot in common with him besides just the amnesia. Your love of books, stories that you’d always read aloud to him while he cooked, you discussed in detail with Sabo. The desire to be free from the shackles of the World Government that had originally brought you to the crew had you admiring Sabo’s work in the RA. Not even your love of his cooking could bring you back to him. Choosing instead, to ask Sabo about the strangest things he’d eaten during his travels. It only continued to get worse. The freedom of the waters that once had you marveling at the idea of an ‘All Blue’ and admiring the crystal clear waters, now turned into a blazing inferno of passion to simply be free. The way your eyes lit up as you watched his fiery kicks now focused on the blazing dragon summoned by the revolutionary. It all made his heart ache. 

     The Revolutionary chief knew of your previous relationship with the blond cook, they’d all told him about how much you’d loved him; so he’d tried to stay distant, to keep himself withdrawn from you so that you could remember your love for the man. Yet it didn’t seem to be working. It had started with a discussion of your inability to remember, grasping at anything to help you figure out who you once were. You’d been so close to something, he’d gotten too excited, warmed up too much to you, and just like that, you were hooked. He’d even tried back peddling, to go back to being detached, but it had been too late, you sought him out after that. With each interaction, he grew closer to you, grew fonder of you, despite his best efforts not to. At one point he’d confided in Robin, hoping that her years of wisdom and experience would help him. But she’d given him a melancholy smile and told him to follow his heart. She knew that there was no helping it, that Sabo had tried not to, that he hadn’t intended for this to happen; she could see that he felt bad about it, not wanting to steal you away from his little brother’s cook. 

     Sanji curled into a ball inside the pantry. Not many people would be looking for him right now and even if they did, they’d probably assume he was on a smoke break or something. He was smoking more lately, so it was a reasonable assumption, even if it wasn’t a correct assumption. The cook had been crying lately, even as he tried to hide it from the others. They couldn’t see him crying, couldn’t see how heartbroken he was over all of this. He just wanted his princess back, he’d do anything, whatever it took just to have you back. But you didn’t remember, you didn’t have feelings for him anymore, and it was tearing him apart from the inside out. Already, he’d tried everything Chopper and Sabo had suggested to get your memory back, even the tiniest fragment of a memory would have given him hope, but nothing came to you. Holding back the sound of his sobs, his tears soaked into his pants as he cried. At one point, he’d have gone to you for comfort and you would have held him as he cried. You’d wipe away his tears as you soothed him, running your hand up and down his back and kissing his forehead. But the last time he’d shed even a few tears in front of you, you’d become nervous and awkward, unsure of how to help him. 

     Looking back at the crew, you gave a sad, uneasy smile. You were leaving with Sabo. you’d decided that you wanted to join the Revolutionary Army in their work, that you wanted to stay by Sabo’s side. The pained looks on the crew’s faces stabbed at your heart, but you knew that this wasn’t where you belonged anymore. Faces you didn’t recognize, friendships that felt forced, affection that wasn’t returned. Waking up that day, you hadn’t even felt a sense of vague familiarity, just confusion and fear. Everything had felt wrong until you’d started connecting with Sabo, even as the crew tried to remind you of who you once were, and helped you do things you’d once done. But it all still felt wrong and unnatural, like somebody else should be doing that instead of you. Reading as Sanji cooked, listening to Usopp’s outrageous tales, the only thing that had felt right was staring out at the ocean and even that felt wrong somehow. Each time you looked out at the waters, you didn’t see the beauty of the sparkling sea, didn’t enjoy the waves crashing against the side of the ship. Instead, you yearned to explore the waters outside of the Straw Hat’s ship, you desired the freedom to leave and see the world. Though the Sunny sailed across the waters, you still felt trapped; though the others talked about the freedom of being pirates, you felt tied down. Sabo didn’t make you feel like that though. He’d told you, warned you, that if you joined the RA, you’d still be tied down. That you’d have responsibilities, higher ups to report to, a purpose that might still make you feel trapped. But the idea of working for them was more alluring than the idea of staying on the Sunny, was more tempting than the uncomfortable small talk and uneasy, fake laughter. Sanji wasn’t there though and it only made you feel guiltier. The others had told you of your feelings for each other, feelings that you no longer reciprocated. You knew that he was broken hearted, that he couldn’t bear to watch you leave and with Sabo, no less. How you wished you could remember, wished to ease his suffering, but you couldn’t. There was nothing you could do to help him. All you could hope for now as you left was that one day he’d be okay. You and Sabo stepped off the ship and onto the Revolutionary Army’s current home island, the two of you walking towards your new life. He hated that Sanji was in so much pain, that he felt like he’d stolen the man’s girlfriend, but he cared for you dearly and he’d make sure you were still just as loved as he gave you a comforting hug and a kiss on the cheek. As guilty as you felt, you were happy by Sabo’s side and as Sanji watched you from the window, he wished you all the happiness in the world as he watched you smile at Sabo, the same smile you’d once given him. A smile of pure happiness. 

[inquisimer]

Happy friday Mer!!! For Valya & Mahariel, "such fascinations reveal far more about the teller than the truth." (from the As Said by Cassandra Pentaghast list) and/or "life isn’t fair, it’s just fairer than death, that’s all." (from the Quotes about Death prompts)

hi kia and ty for the prompt! here's a bit of Warden/Mage philosophy between Valya and Sari during a late-night research session in the Weisshaupt library for @dadrunkwriting

Sari Mahariel & Valya | wc: 908

-

“Do you ever regret it?”

“Regret what?”

“The Joining. Becoming a Warden.”

Sari looked up from the dusty tome before her, blinking owlishly. The dim light from Valya’s staff was the only illumination in Weisshaupt’s library—candles were a premium that the Wardens could not spare for late night researchers. Across the small table they shared, the young city elf was watching Sari thoughtfully, one finger marking her place in the odd, yellowed book that she only read at night.

“What makes you ask?” Sari answered, mostly to buy herself some time. The honest answer was yes, of course, but the obvious follow-up question—why?—was something she could not answer. Not without revealing herself and she still had work to do here.

“I…think about it, a lot.” Valya chewed on a piece of hair, lips quirking. “Hard not to, being here. Caronel, Sekah, Reimas…they all have different opinions. Either I’m wrong to doubt or I’m wrong to rush in. I guess I just wondered what yours was.”

Exhaling slowly, Sari set her ragged quill down on its rest. “The Wardens have their place, and their purpose. And little use for regret. The opinions of others will not give you the answers you seek. No one can tell you what the right path is.”

“A fair point. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“No, I didn’t,” Sari sighed. She rubbed at the Blight-blistered skin over her knuckles, a souvenir from Fort Drakon. Did she regret it? Yes, of course. And also not at all.

“I needed the Wardens at the same time that they needed me,” she finally said. “Did they save my life? Yes. But they also took many other things from me. And some days I wonder if the price I’ve paid is not more than my life is worth.”

She stared, unseeing, at her notes. “If I had another choice, I do not think I would choose the Wardens. But I did not. Given the months that you’ve already passed here unjoined, it seems that you do.”

“Do I?” Valya scowled. “The Templars will regroup. The Chantry will recover. The ones who are not so soft-hearted as Reimas will come for the mages that have scattered, eventually.”

“They might. Or they might not, not in the way you’re thinking. If nothing else, the Wardens have taught me that no matter the certainty of my thoughts, there is always a way for things to change. We cannot know, cannot predict, where we will be even five minutes from now.”

“But you regret it.”

“I regret the circumstances. But I have no real way of knowing what would have happened if things were different. What if I did have a choice, refused the Wardens, and things turned out worse?”

She smiled sadly at Valya. The young girl’s eyes swirled with murky confusion, the fear of the chaos outside and of the Wardens’ curse in equal measures. In some ways, Sari envied her; there had been no long debate on her behalf, so many years ago. With poison in her veins and a Blight on the horizon, it was never really a choice.

“It seems the logical thing to do,” Valya said. “The only way to be absolutely sure the Circles cannot touch me.”

“But?”

Valya frowned. “I’ve only just regained my freedom. It doesn’t seem fair that I have to surrender it to keep even a fraction of autonomy.”

“The Wardens don’t trade in ‘fair’.”

“Neither does the Circle, I suppose.” Pulling her staff over, Valya fed a sliver of mana into the weathered wood. The orb atop it flared briefly before settling back into the steady, dull illumination. “I just wish….I wish I didn’t feel an expiration date on the Wardens’ protection. Without the Joining behind me, they can always revoke sanctuary and turn us back to the Templars.”

Sari couldn’t help a wry smile. “I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but that’s not likely to happen. There’s not exactly a line of willing recruits at the Wardens’ door, what with the Blight over a decade past. If you stood before a Templar and a Warden and swore that you would take the Joining that second, the Chantry would have no authority to stop you. And the Wardens have no reason to turn you away.”

“Then why have they kept us here, researching? Not Joined, not training?”

“There is no Blight. No urgency, not yet. If I could wager a guess? They have their own….not regrets, exactly, but something like that. They’ve already made the sacrifice, so there’s a chance you won’t have to. No one is eager to put the promising youth to the death—and that’s the choice, when they put you to the Joining.”

Sari shrugged. “If the Templars come, all they have to do is say you’re a recruit. The Chantry has no hold over that, least of all here.”

“That’s…remarkably wise.”

“Remarkably?”

“I—well, I meant—“ Valya stammered over her sudden panic, but Sari was already grinning as she turned the pages back on her tome to make more notes. Her amusement fell away into familiar solemnity.

“Were I in your shoes, da’len, I would not rush headlong into death. They will force your hand eventually—you need not press them for it.” She kept her sorrowful gaze hidden from Valya’s curiosity. “Cherish the time you have now, and worry about the rest when the world shows its hand.”