#200 words a day

[writingwife-83]

Ok friends, I’m gonna do daily word count updates to keep me accountable for the 200 Word a Day for May challenge.

Google doc start point- 676 words

I’ll be back later to update!

If you’re not interested in updates like this idek why you’re following a blog like this lol but go ahead and filter “may writing challenge”

[thewritingsofevbrowne]

May Writing Challenge

So I saw this writing challenge on Tumblr for the month of May. I wanted to keep up my writing schedule. I wrote a total of 26,479 words. Which is a whole 47 words more than I wrote in Camp NaNoWriMo. I'm pretty proud of myself and deserve a little pat on the back for my accomplishment.

The whole reason I did this challenge is because I usually expect way too much of myself. I used to think 1k words a day was a good goal but it's way too high for me. Usually, when I didn't meet my goal I would become disappointed in myself for not making it. So smaller goals mean more achievable goals. I think I'll try to continue this writing challenge in my daily schedule. Some words are better than none.

[seravphs]

modern intimacy —

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO x FEM READER

Gojo watches you get ready for your anniversary date. 

tags — married au, Gojo is the annoying type that doesn’t have to do any skincare or makeup to look good, so he’s doubly interested in your routine

“What’s that one?” 

“It’s mascara.”

“Huh. Okay, what’s that?” 

“It’s blush, honey.” 

“Can I try?” 

“Try it on?” You look up at him, surprised. Gojo, being Gojo, always looks perfect. You’re not sure what he would need makeup for. 

“Can I try putting it on you?” 

When you shrug, Gojo grins eagerly and pulls you onto his lap. You did not agree to that, but you let it slide. He takes the little compact in one hand and your fluffy brush in the other. His tongue peeks out in concentration as he taps rouge onto your cheeks. 

You catch a glimpse in the mirror against his protests. No wonder why-

“I look like a clown!” You protest. 

“But my adorable little clown,” he says. 

“Don’t try to wriggle your way out of this one! Give me that-“ you snatch your makeup back. 

You wince at you stare into the mirror once more. It’s useless. Your base is completely unsalvageable. You’ll have to start all over. 

“It’s fine,” Gojo drawls. “I’ll just get us another reservation.” 

You turn gleaming eyes on him and lift your blush brush. 

“Hey, wait!”

[stellewriites]

ghost and soap that move in together in between missions to save on money and eventually - inevitably - fall into bed together. but somethings missing

they’re both a little too sharp around the edges, need something sweet to ease their cravings and soften their bites, but no one fits right

until you, that is. so don’t be surprised when they make sure you’re sticking around by any means necessary

[disguisedcheezed]

Just take this. They could never leave my fucking mind.

[oifaaa]

People who can work on one project one piece of art one piece of writing for days on end amaze me if I do not finish my thing before I go to bed there is a 90% chance I will be disgusted by even the thought of it the next day and that only increases the more time passes

[lost-in-fandoms]

¹⁷⁾ a carabiner heavy with keys❤️

hello friend, I want you to know that this prompt stumped me for quite a while, I just didn't know how to spin it? I started thinking about keys -> doors -> many doors, and I had a zookeeper AU in my brain, but also a college student x security guard AU kind of thing, but in the end I went for this. I did take some liberties on the carabiner part.

Max is being guided towards the last row of cells when they bring him in.

He's being held up by two guards, one more behind them carrying an extra torch, head hanging low like he's not fully aware, curls drooping in front of his face in a disheveled mess.

"Ah, yes," the warden says with a smirk, stepping over to open one of the closed doors, "our little thief!"

The cell is dark and damp, with a hole in the middle of the floor and a wooden slab against the wall as a bed, and even from where he's standing in the corridor, Max can feel how oppressive the small space is, air heavy and stale.

The guards throw the man in without much care, ignoring the way he slumps on the floor, unmoving, but the warden chuckles, coming closer to poke him with the tip of his boot.

"Not so smug now, are you?" he taunts.

Max forces himself not to react as he pokes the thief again, trying to keep his face as impassible as the other guards, watching as the guy tries to twist away, moaning pathetically.

"Who is he?" he asks, voice flat and uninterested. His fingers are tightly closed around the ring of keys the warden had passed him earlier, a copy of the one hanging from his belt.

"Just a rat, sneaking around the castle's treasury for far too long." The warden crouches down, grabbing the man's hair and pulling it back, revealing his bruised face. "The guys had a bit of fun, it seems."

The thief opens one swollen eye to look up at him, and for a second Max thinks his face is twisting in pain, but then realises he's smiling, all blood-stained teeth.

"Touching is 5 gold pieces, sweetheart," he rasps out, before spitting at the warden.

Max can't help but flinch when the guy's head hits the floor, but he steels himself for the kick he sees coming, forcing himself to not look away, even as the poor man coughs and gasps on the floor.

"Vermin," the warden grunts, hitting him again for good measure, before finally stepping away. "Hope you've had your taste of fresh air, because this is the last you're going to get."

The thief doesn't answer, curling up more tightly on the floor, his gasps the last thing Max hears before the door closes with a heavy thud.

--

Max walks down the corridor, trying to remind himself that he has every right to be here, and it would be more suspicious if he sneaked around, The keys jingle at his waist, and the sound itself is enough to make him feel vaguely nauseous, especially as he hears the sounds from inside the cells die down as he walks by, replaced by terrified silence.

Despite his intentions, his steps grow quieter as he walks deeper into the prison, approaching the last rows, and by the time he's in front of the thief's cell his breathing is almost inaudible too, the clinking of his keys the only sound announcing his presence.

He takes a breath before opening the door, checking the end of the corridor just in case someone decided to take a stroll down this way before the actual guards change. It's not illegal what he's doing, not yet at least, but technically he's not supposed to open this door, the meager food they've been throwing being passed through the hatch at the bottom.

The first click of the lock sounds too loud in the quiet corridor, but Max ignores the nerves twisting his stomach and keeps turning the key, pulling the door open as quietly as possible.

The first thing that hits him is the smell. The stale, damp air, now smells even worse, after days of a human being living in it, and he almost has to take a step back, feeling it like a punch in his chest. After that, he sees the thief, a shadow tucked away in one corner.

The sight is enough to make him forget about the smell as he rushes forward, tucking his keys in his pocket to make them less noisy, crouching down in front of him, relieved by the movement of his shoulders.

"Daniel," he whispers, reaching out to touch but worried he'll accidentally scare him, or worse, hurt him. "Daniel, come on, look at me."

"You're late."

Max feels like a weight has been lifted from his chest hearing Daniel's voice, even if dry and raspy, and he almost laughs with it, finally leaning all the way in to touch his shoulders, helping him sit up.

"I'm sorry," he says, even if he had no real way of getting their work done more quickly. "I have water for you, and a piggyback ride out."

Max is glad he prepared himself before walking in, because it takes all his self-control to not gasp when Daniel finally looks up. The bruises he had seen a few days earlier are now purple and green, the dried blood still caking his cheekbone now a flaky brown, his cheeks sunken and pale.

"Don't look at me like that, I haven't had my beauty sleep," Daniel jokes, voice cracking into a cough by the end of the sentence.

"I hate you," Max says, because saying I love you so much it felt like I was dying when I was watching them throw you in here feels a bit too much at the moment. What he does instead is take out the small flask of water from his pocket, helping Daniel drink, fingers almost tingling where he's touching his skin.

"You got them right?" Daniel asks as soon as he's done, looking slightly better than before.

Max nods, patting the pocket on his chest, under his cloak, where he had hidden the documents he had retrieved from where Daniel had stashed them away. Daniel getting beat up hadn't been in the plans though, and Max is eager to get him out of there as soon as possible.

"Come on, it's not long until the watch changes."

He helps Daniel stand up, then climb on his back, leaving his hands free, just in case.

"I'm going to give you so much food," he tells him, feeling how much lighter Daniel has become in just a few days.

"You better."

Max closes the door of the cell behind them, taking a moment to wrap the keys up in an handkerchief before putting them back in his pocket. He knows that there's no way to make it seem like he's not smuggling Daniel out, so he's not taking any chances of the damned keys betraying them when he's trying to be quiet. Then he takes a deep breath, makes sure Daniel is secure on his back, and starts making his way to safety.

[attapullman]

Is anyone else having horrendous writer's block after last week?

[wrencatte]

mini-fic 3! Cere POV. linguist!Cal, Mantis Crew as Family, Merrin & Cal bonding 1.2k words

“This one?”

Cal squints at it for half a second, says “yes,” then looks back down.

“What about this one?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t even look!”

“Greez, that’s the third time you’ve shown me that one.”

“No, it – oh, wait, haha, yeah it is. Okay. Let me see….”

Cere watches in fond amusement as Greez goes back to the shelves. Merrin comes over with a tome from deeper within the city library and angles it in a way Cal can look at it without straining his neck. His expression brightens and he takes it, running his fingers over the edges and corners.

There’s a slight twist in the Force that Cere’s beginning to learn means he found an echo. She has to focus pretty hard to feel it so she only pays it enough attention to be sure Cal’s not about to fall into anything nasty – not that she can do anything about it if he does, but she likes to be prepared – and tunes back into the softly murmured conversation between Merrin and Cal.

The Nightsister looks absolutely delighted at having found something in a language Cal doesn’t recognize, all quiet pride and subtle preening. Cere hides a smile behind her hand. Adorable. Cal flips the tome open and the two of them duck heads, Cal underlining a few words with his finger and saying something that Merrin repeats. He shakes his head and says it again. Her face twists in thought as she sounds it out before giving it voice and he nods rapidly, grinning. She smiles back, one of those small soft ones that pops up whenever it’s just her and Cal.

Cere is just about to go back to her own readings when Greez arrives, BD-1 whirling on his shoulder, a book held over his head in triumph.

“Ha! Try this on for size!”

Cal takes the book carefully. “I know this one,” he tells Greez, who groans in disappointment. “But, oh wow.” He flips through a few pages, lips moving as he reads the text silently to himself. “I can’t believe they have a book written in pre-Reformation Gwyrdd’tafodi. Do you know how rare that is? When they switched over, they deliberately destroyed all they could! An archivist hid this away for a hundred years in order to get it safely off the planet. It kept getting passed down the family line until one of them got passage on a ship.”

Greez crosses one set of arms, his free hands on his hips. He watches Cal fondly as the young Jedi’s excitement grows with every page flip. “You know, I would’ve never pegged you as such a gigantic nerd.”

“Jedi were scholars and peacekeepers before they were soldiers,” Cere says quietly. A hush falls on the group. Cal ducks down, shoulders hunching, eyes kept resolutely on the page though it’s obvious he’s not reading a single word. She smiles and adds lightly, “We’re all nerds.”

Cal laughs first, tinged with grief and legitimate delight. He tucks the book Greez brought under the one Merrin showed him, which makes Merrin throw Greez a smirk and for the latero to throw his crossed arms up in the air in a huff. Cere rolls her eyes fondly and catches Cal’s gaze. He grins, unrepentant, enjoying whatever contest is going on between their friends. It gets Cal more books without him getting up, so he’s not going to stop them.

Greez’s frustration is amusing to watch, especially when he snatches BD from scanning the book Cal has open so he can co-opt the droid’s database to help find a language Cal doesn’t know. It’s not helping. BD-1’s database might be filled with years and years of history and culture but knowing the intimate details of a language instead of just a simple dictionary is completely different.

Merrin listens to Cal read out loud for a few minutes, humming at all the right moments, but obviously thinking hard about something. Cere gives up on reading her book and focuses on the two of them, curious as to what’s going to happen next.

“How many languages do you know?”

Cal’s teeth click he stops talking so fast. “I don’t know,” he admits with a shrug. “Sometimes I don’t even realize I know a language until I see or hear it again. Sometimes not even then! It doesn’t always register it as a different language. It’s just…words I understand.”

She tilts her head, expression intense. “Could you learn Dathomiri?”

He grins and quips something in the smokey, gritty sounding language of Dathomir. Merrin’s eyes widen, and then, suddenly, they glimmer with a wetness both Cere and Cal pretend they don’t see.

Knuckles pressed to her lips, she breathes a very quiet, “oh,” before clearing her throat and adding roughly, “Your accent is terrible.”

“Is it though?” Cal asks smugly.

Merrin scowls. “I will teach you more…if you want to learn.”

Cal’s expression softens. “I would love to. Thank you for sharing it with me.” He adds something in Dathomiri at the end that has Merrin abruptly turning back to their shared book, expression pained and grieving.

Cere nudges the Nightsister with a tendril of the Force and gets a small smile in response. They don’t share the same bond as Jedi do, but theirs is enough for Cere to believe her. She settles back in her chair, musing on what her life has become, sharing a bond with a Nightsister, before she shrugs it off and fully intends on finally going back to her reading with Merrin and Cal’s back-and-forth as a background noise.

Except Greez comes back again, the book he carries is much thinner than any of the ones stacked around Cal like a barrier. BD-1 clicks excitedly and Greez is grinning smugly as he waves the book in the air.

“Did you know this place has an unknown language section? Guess who found it!” he all but brags. Merrin frowns, nose wrinkling while Cal laughs brightly and holds out a hand for the book.

Greez slaps it in his hand, earning a scandalized look from one of the librarians. Merrin and Cere laugh as he hunches down with quick apologies. Cal inspects the book carefully. If there are any echoes, they’re soft and quick. He grins.

“Congratulations, Greez, I don’t know this one.”

The latero cheers silently, all four arms thrown up in victory.

Merrin rolls her eyes. “You still lost. I found one first.”

Cal hums. “Best two out of three? This place is open for another five hours.”

The two of them exchange looks for a full second before Merrin jumps out of her chair and rushes into the depths of the library. Greez yelps and follows her as fast as he can without running. Cere hides her face, as though that will keep people from realizing they’re with her. Cal laughs, covering his mouth with his book. His eyes peek over, glittering in mirth. He pulls the book away, and holds it to his cheek, leaning in like he has a secret. Cere can’t help but lean in to hear it.

“I already know the language,” he admits.

Cere blinks at him then laughs loudly – nearly getting them kicked out of the library.

[abhainnwhump]

"If there are any gods out there, then they all collectively hate me."

[writingwife-83]

Coming in under the wire once again! Day 6 of 200 words a day in May…

Starting word count- 339

Final word count- 558 😅

[floralegia]

#1: "You're blushing."

For day one of @bandomflufffest!

"You're blushing!"

Patrick squints. "Of course I'm blushing. This is mesh. How do you wear this?"

"You're doing a great job from where I'm standing," Pete informs him, with a lascivious wink and a slow, thorough up-and-down glance. "You should put on the roses too. It's, like, bondage chic."

"I am definitely not doing that."

"Aw, baby, c'mon." Pete leaps from the greenroom couch. His smirking grin softens into a smile as he moves, and Patrick finds himself tangled up in a hug before he can so much as blink. "You look good. You know I mean that, right? I mean, you look really, really good."

Patrick tries to let him sweat for a minute, but he doesn't make it longer than a few seconds before he's smiling, too, ducking his head for a kiss.

"Yeah, I know," he says, between the first kiss and a second, and a third, and a fourth. Then, before things can get too out of hand, he lightly shoves Pete away, gesturing towards the item still waiting on a hanger.

"C'mon, you're gonna have to help squeeze me into these damn pants."

[direwombat]

wip music monday

tagged recently by @inafieldofdaisies, @voidika, and @simplegenius042 to share some music inspiring my wips (ty all so much <3)

the fingers in the father's soil verse brainworms have been wriggling today, so here's a song that gives some good syb/billie vibes

Help me, Lord, from these fantasies in my head They ain't ever been safe ones I don't fellowship with these fake ones So let's travel to white chapels and sing hymns Hold rosaries, sing in stained-glass symphonies Cleanse me, Holy Trinity, from this marijuana smoke smell in my hair Say I'm nothin' like my father But I'm the furthest thing from choir boys and altars Double cross me, I'm just like my father I am colder than Titanic water

and here's a billie/solomon song (because it ain't true love if they ain't actively tryin' to kill each other <3)

Lay your head down Down, down My love's gonna pull you down Down, down One shot and you're six feet down Down, down Bang bang bang! I'd do you where you stand So take a look at me, yeah Bang bang bang

taglist:

@marivenah, @statichvm, @cassietrn, @trench-rot, @harmonyowl,

@fourlittleseedlings, @carlosoliveiraa, @purplehairsecretlair, @aceghosts, @adelaidedrubman,

@finding-comfort-in-rain, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @locustandwildhoney, @testyfestyenthusiast, @strangefable,

@alexxmason, @deputyash, @josephslittledeputy, and anyone else wanting to share music inspiring them! (taglist opt in/out)

[bang-bang-gang]

i dont want to write, but i do want to have written 😫

[flygonscales]

2 weeks at uni and I’ve already reached peak procrastination. I found masking tape and somehow decided that the best use of my time was to make a tiny Belphemon-sleep.

[ya-zz]

The first half of the "200 Words A Day in May" challenge is here! Please note that I am a day ahead just in case I cannot compete a day due to uni work. Also this has not been beta read, so I apologise for any errors... final part to be uploaded at the end of the month!

AO3

Closure (pt1)

Ramattra x reader (gen) Word count: 3,200 ----

His hatred for humans was known by many… Too many, in fact. However, it never deterred you into getting to know him. You would always find him in the same places; the library, the courtyard, sometimes in his room when you passed by. He would always be doing something, whether that was reading, meditating or sparring with other omnics - he was always busy.

You never approached him though, wanting him to approach you first. Of course, whenever you two happened to cross paths you would greet him like any other. A friendly “hello” with a smile. Ramattra would barely pass a glance at you at first, but over time, he expected your greetings and that smile of yours. 

He never admitted it, but he was growing used to having you around in the Monastery. He followed his routine effortlessly, much like you did, and each morning there you would be, walking past, greeting him and going on about your day. It was the same in the afternoon and the evening. 

There was a day however that he broke the routine ever so slightly and it caught you off guard.

“Would you care to meditate with me, [y/n]?” He asked.

You look at the omnic, eyes slightly wide. 

You must’ve been staring for a lot longer than you had thought as he broke the silence, voice robotic and low.

“Well?” He cocks his head, eyes on you. 

All you could do was nod, still surprised he had asked you to meditate with him. 

Ramattra started walking without saying anything and you followed behind just as silently. His routine was back to how it was, but this time, you were in tow. 

The pair of you reached the hallway before entering a large, dimly lit room. Seven other monks were already seated and meditating. Ramattra headed for the back corner and you followed as quietly as you could, watching where you were stepping. 

The omnic sat down, crossed his legs and sat with a straight back, head down. You put a human width gap between you and him and sat down next to him, following his posture. Your hands sat on your knees as you closed your eyes. 

You could hear the soft hum of his chassis, fans slowly whirring and his chest rising and falling, imitating a humans breathing. You wondered what was going on in that head of his.

Except from the hum of robotics and your breathing, the room was silent. Of course, this was nothing new, the Monastery was always quiet, save from a few conversations between the monks. Nothing exciting was happening. It was peaceful. It was something you had grown used to ever since you had arrived, it was an escape from wherever you had come from over a year ago. 

The surrounding area was full of life, truly a place worthy of calling home. The trees were shades of pink in spring, always green in the summer, and the mountains were covered in a blanket of snow throughout the year. When it was dark, the village below would glow yellow with life. As the minutes passed by, the lights would slowly get dimmer as stores closed. The bakery would close it doors and start preparing the next days bread and cakes. The flower shop would put its display inside and then hand out some singular flowers to those who passed by before locking up for the night. 

The Monastery would glow all year round. While some residents when to their rooms, others would stay late to clean, others turn to roam the halls alone. 

The hum of Ramattra’s body got slightly louder, or maybe it had always been that loud. Your ears picked the noise up rather quickly. In the time that you had your eyes closed and opened them back up, two monks had left and one was just getting up to leave. 

They look over at you and nod gently, the rise and slow fall of their shoulders made it seem apologetic, as if he disturbed you from your meditation. 

You smile back at them, shaking your head, dismissing their worry before looking back down at your hands. You fidgeted slightly before finding some comfort on the stone floor. The footsteps of the other monk faded and it was back to near silence. It was peaceful.

Ramattra tilted his head to the side, pondering some thoughts. His optics looked up for a moment, a silent sigh leaving his body. Something caught his attention next to him. He looked over and saw you slowly bobbing your head. 

You had accidentally dozed off, truly a deep meditation. 

The omnic next to you shifted, moving to sit next to you, and it was as if you could feel something pulling you to rest on him.

Your body slumped against the omnic, instantly finding comfort. A content sigh escaped your lips as you fell deeper into sleep. 

Ramattra turned his head to you, watching the rise and fall of your chest. Something inside of him felt warm, his fans picking up speed to cool him down. He had never felt this before, and it’s with a human of all things. 

He looks ahead, eyes scanning the room. The remaining omnics were still quietly meditating, head bowed and cross legged. Ramattra straightened his back before returning to his own meditating, however he had begun thinking about your breathing, the slowness of it, how in rhythm it was.

His mind started thinking about how fragile human life was, how weak they were to him, how he could crush anyone without thinking twice. He turned and looked at you again, wondering how fragile you really were. He wondered what you thought about him and his kind, whether it was possible to coexist peacefully. 

The omnic paused in thought. You were here in the Monastery, with him, surrounded by other omnics. You had already made your choice. It brought some comfort to him and if he could smile, he would.

You shifted slightly on the floor, head resting on Ramattra’s arm. Your ears picked up the inner workings of his body, louder than they were before. It was almost soothing to you. 

Time seemed to pass slowly, but it was a comfortable speed as the two of you remained seated in the room, the lights illuminating your features with a soft, warm glow. 

The other omnics had left, and Ramattra’s personal schedule was behind as he refused to move your sleeping body. He stayed seated far longer than he had initially planned, but he didn’t want to disturb you. 

For weeks he had watched you run around the Monastery, you would always be doing something, but never really keeping a schedule apart from waking or sleeping at the same time. There were always the moments that would always be on time though, and that was when you would greet him with a smile before walking away. He would always wonder what you thought of him, if you were somewhat scared and only friendly from fear. 

He looked down at you, pondering these thoughts. The soft breaths you released were like another meditation to him. He was contempt in that moment.

Time passed by and Ramattra had refused to move. A few more omnics came and went, but the two of you remained. 

He had been keeping watch of the time, his schedule now completely out of whack. He placed his hand on your head which made your body flinch in reaction. You stirred awake, blinking slowly.

You shifted before sitting up straight, your neck was sore as you gently rubbed the back of it. 

“I suppose you were tired.” He stated, matter of factly. His head turned to you.

You look back at him, eyes widening slightly. “I… I am so sorry!” Your cheeks warm up as you realise you had fallen asleep on the omnic. 

His gaze was still on you before he stood up. 

“Perhaps, you should go to bed.” His voice was cold. “I have time to make up.” Ramattra left you in the room alone. Part of him was annoyed that he didn’t keep to his schedule, another part of him was annoyed at himself for saying what he had when he left, but another part of him was grateful for the time he had spent with you, granted you were asleep for most of it.

You slowly stand and exit the room, cheeks warm. The Monastery was quiet as you walked the empty halls to your quarters, a cold chill passing through the open windows. 

As you turn a corner, Zenyatta passes you. 

“Hello, [y/n].” His voice was quiet as he spoke, a certain charm to it. 

“Hey, Zen…” You stop to chat with him for a few minutes. 

“What seems to be troubling you?” He asks, head tilted to the side. 

You look at him for a moment before speaking. “Nothing, really. I’m just tired.”

“I see… I don’t suppose you have seen my brother around here? Ramattra?” 

“He, uhm, he left me a few minutes ago.” You look away. 

“Left you?” 

You nod. “Yeah. I fell asleep on him while we were meditating.” 

Zenyatta chuckles. “He did not mind?” 

“I don’t know… I woke up and he left, saying he had ‘time to make up’.” Your eyes widen slowly. “How long were we there?” 

“I do not know. I shall ask him when I find him. Go, rest up. You clearly need it.” Zenyatta puts a hand on your shoulder. 

With a small nod, you leave the monk, your room in sight.

Ramattra finished his duties two hours after his initial schedule had ended. He let out a low sigh as he made his way back to his quarters. 

He hummed quietly as he sat on the edge of his bed, thoughts returning to his mind about you. He wondered where you had come from, what your past was like…

Something clicked inside of him. He had seen you before, many years prior to the pair of you meeting at the Monastery. 

Back when Null Sector was rising, Ramattra and his team would gather any human that was still alive after they had attacked and transported them back to headquarters for questioning. Many died on the way, some in the middle of interrogation, others would die after one round of torture. He felt guilty remembering this, but then he remembered - you were one of those people taken . You had survived the journey, survived the countless interrogations, and multiple rounds of torture. 

You were, at the time, one of the strongest humans Ramattra had ever seen. Strong through will and by god you were strong enough to last his beatings. 

He, as much as he hated to say it, admired you back then.

As much as he tried not to, he couldn’t help but think about what he did to you;

Countless days and weeks went by, yet you still hadn’t given up and died. He would beat you, kicking and punching every part of your body. He vividly remembered your screams as you cried out in pain over each onslaught. Of course, you spat back at him any chance you had, the blood spattering on his cloak, chest or feet only angered him more. 

Despite everything he had put you through, you never gave up fighting for your own life. He admired you to the point he became lenient, offering food and water to keep you breathing. He ordered some of his men to treat your wounds before he would abuse you once more a week or so after. He tortured you to the very brink of death, and yet you somehow survived. 

Null Sector was attacked a few months after you had been captured and taken there, but nobody was searching for you. Nobody knew you were even there. You laid under the rubble until you had enough strength to pull yourself out and you ran as far as you could.

Ramattra never saw you after the attack, and he shook the feeling of you being dead away. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he missed you back then. 

Of course, it has been a year since then and he had long since tried to forget the whole ordeal and was trying to better himself. He had found peace even though somewhere deep inside of him, he still hated humans for what they did.

He slumped on his bed, head low as he thought about everything. He couldn’t shake the screaming from back then and he feared he was spiralling back into his anger. He placed his hands on his head, the metal tapping against his face plate. He let out a low growl, irritated at himself for bringing everything back up. 

When he arrived at the Monastery, his brother only said that there was a human living amongst them and that they meant no harm to him or to the others. Yet, despite Zenyatta saying this, he still believed otherwise and was cautious of you from the very first day. It took him this long to figure out that you were his prisoner all those years ago. 

Ramattra wanted nothing more than to go over to your room and apologise for what he had done, but did you even remember? Do you remember what he did to you, he thought. What if you did remember but he brings it back to the surface and traumatises you again? 

He had long since changed his ways, wanting nothing more to do with Null Sector and to find peace within himself, but there was that turmoil inside of him again that he had only just gotten rid off. 

It pained him deeply, far greater than he would like to admit. 

The omnic let out a low sigh, body deflating as he fell to the floor. Meditation was the only way to get rid of these thoughts… at least, that’s what happened last time. 

He crossed his legs, the hum of his body filling the room. 

No matter how hard he tried, the screaming returned and it only got louder, his fists tightening in response. His head tilted slightly as the red lights on his forehead flickered. 

Erasing his memory was one thing he cannot do and he hated it. All he could do was remember the past and the pain

The following day was nothing but cold and rainy. You stayed inside as much as you could, only running down to the village to pick up some books you had on hold that weren’t originally in the Monastery, and running through the garden to deliver a package to another monk. 

You shook off your jacket before hanging it up next to the door before heading to your room for a towel, however, you turned the corner and Ramattra was stood in your doorway.

“Everything ok?” You asked, approaching from behind. 

Ramattra turned to face you. “I was wondering where you were.” 

“I was out delivering a package.” You stand in front of him. “Can I?” 

He nods and moves to the side, letting you into your room. 

“Thanks.” Just as you enter, you sneeze. 

“You’ll catch a cold-”

“I know. That’s why I came to dry off.” You grab a towel from the bathroom as you dry yourself off. 

Ramattra froze when he saw the back of your neck when you turned away from him. He didn’t say a word but his mind was racing with too many thoughts and screams. 

There, scarred on the back of your neck;

‘ZERO’

“Hey!” You wave your hand in front of Ramattra’s face. “You still on?” Ramattra shifted his head down lightly, looking at you. “Yes.” 

“Ok, well, I need you to move so I can leave my room.” You step back, looking at the omnic in front of you. 

“My apologies.” He steps aside, but before you completely go past him, he grabs your arm. 

You turn and look at his hand, then up at him, your face showing no emotion. 

He knew, but he wasn’t sure if you did. 

“Your neck. What happened?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t remember.” You take your free hand and rub the back of your neck, the scar raised slightly. 

“You don’t remember?” He asks, his voice was low. 

You nod in response. “I don’t remember much before coming here. I didn’t realise I was scarred until Zen pointed it out when we were cleaning together.” 

Ramattra releases your arm, his hand falling by his side. He didn’t say anything for a moment. 

“What do you remember?” 

You completely turn and face him. “Being on a train coming here. Anything before that is fuzzy. Look, I have to go. We’ll talk more later, ok? I promise.”

He stared at you for a moment before nodding. He followed you out of your room before leaving in the opposite direction. 

Part of you wondered why he wanted to talk to you. You truly had forgotten about the past but never really questioned it. You were happy in the Monastery and didn’t want that to change. 

Zen gently tapped you on the shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“Is everything ok, [y/n]?” He asked, his head cocked to the side. 

You nod. “Yeah. Ramattra noticed my neck… Seemed troubled by it.” 

“Oh?” 

“He asked if I remembered anything.” You look away.

Zenyatta just looked at you, face expressionless as always. 

“As I said to him, the last thing I really remember is being on a train coming here… Anything before that is fuzzy…” You look back at your friend, a small awkward smile on your face. 

“Would you like to remember?” 

“What?” 

“Would you want to remember?” He repeated. 

“I heard you.” You look at him, examining his features. 

“Talk to him.” He places a hand on your shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze before leaving.

“You know, don’t you?” You watch as he leaves. “Please, tell me!”

Zenyatta completely ignored you as he disappeared further into the Monastery. You stare in his direction with endless thoughts running through your mind. If he knew this entire time… 

You spent the rest of the day wondering what had really happened in your past and how did Zenyatta know? Why did he not tell you before? The scar on the back of your neck itched slightly which only irritated you more. 

Ramattra’s schedule was just about to end when he saw you walking by. His fans sped up slightly, the nervousness now settling in his body. 

“[Y/n].” He called out to you. He kept his nerves pushed down.

Instantly you turn and look at him, forcing a small smile before following him to his room. A slight warmth filled your cheeks. 

He sits down on the chair, leaning forward, gesturing for you to sit on the edge of his bed. He looks at you, not knowing what to say or even how to start it. 

“Zenyatta knows… Doesn’t he?” You break the silence. 

The omnic nods, tilting his head slightly. “I asked him not to say anything.” 

“You know my past too?”

Ramattra nods slowly.

“You were my prisoner…”

-

Part 2