#JORGE I WAS JUST HEALING

[this-orange-anon024]

[a-bottle-of-tyelenol]

The fact that there’s a very real chance that we could get a fully voiced version of ‘Olive Tree’ with Jorge and Anna in an eventual cut saga of EPIC keeps me up at night,,,

WYFILWMA has already destroyed me I don’t think I’ll survive having Olive Tree too (please give it to me I need it more than I need air to breathe PLEASE)

[epic-obsessive-elf]

Again...unspoken rule we're trapped mourning Polites til Epic is complete.

NOT AGAIN

[ang3lofdivinity]

𓏲๋࣭ 𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖥𝗈𝗋 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖸𝗈𝗎🫧˖°

Relationship(s) :: Jinx + Calypso(slightly yandere)!Fem!Reader (romantic)

Genre :: Fluff! And LOTS, LOTTTSSS of angst.

Format :: Oneshot / story

Warnings :: spoilers for season 2 of Arcane, even more trauma than last time!!, death mentions, READER IS NOT CALYPSO - takes her place essentially, Reader leans towards being more yandere (possessive and obsessive over Jinx), Jinx still has some remaining feelings for Ekko, but eventually gives up once again, heavily inspired by Jorge’s “Love In Paradise” + “Not Sorry For Loving You”, Reader is not toxic like Calypso in either of those songs! A bunch of time skips for a few, VERY LONG (I had to split this up into another part dude..), slight imitation to SH? Nothing explicitly stated

A/N :: AAA I actually am very surprised that “Stuck In Paradise” (be sure to read it first! None of this will really make any sense if you don’t read the first part of this!) kinda blew up! + all of the nice comments. TYSM GUYS FOR YOUR SUPPORT, GENUINELY. (I saw 1.9% of you say no btw 🤨). I hope this lives up to your expectations!! (W.C: 10.6k)

Ⅰ - Ⅱ - Ⅲ

The days and weeks slipped by in a surreal, dreamlike rhythm for Jinx and you, as if time itself had softened around the edges. Life had never felt this way before; unpredictable yet strangely comforting. You had long resigned yourself to solitude, believing you’d never see another human face again. The gods would probably be tired of seeing so many arrive on your island by pure coincidence and then immediately leaving once they had the chance to. They might as well have put another spell on your island so that nobody else would’ve been able to end up here.

Isolation had become your norm. Your reality.

And then Jinx arrived, shattering that reality you’d become so used to.

She was different. The others who had stumbled upon this forsaken island before her had always left the moment they had gotten the opportunity by the gods themselves, abandoning you to your endless exile. They were fleeting, shadows passing through your life and leaving you to rot.

With one of those sailors? You’d once gotten so attached. Too attached

And then they left you…

Everyone who ever appeared on this island - besides yourself - disappeared within a few weeks.

But Jinx?

She stayed.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you had someone who cared for you.

Even in the loneliness of this place, you weren’t truly alone anymore.

Over time, the two of you began to grow closer, spending hours together in quiet conversation or companionable silence. You were drawn to her sharp edges and fragile strength, and she—though unaccustomed to such things—found herself drawn to your unwavering care. Jinx wasn’t used to safety or protection. The idea of someone looking out for her was.. odd, almost unsettling.

But with you? She was beginning to understand what it felt like to be safe, to not have to look over her shoulder at every corner she turned due to the hostility of those living within the Undercity.

And for you, her presence was a revelation. You loved the sound of her voice, the unexpected humor that flickered through her words during such moments, and the way she slowly let down her guard. There was something healing in her company, something that made the world feel just a little less broken.

For now, the gods seemed to have turned their attention elsewhere, leaving you both in a rare state of peace. This was especially important to you, given the fact you would now be able to relax without their constant nagging or their interferences annoying you, you were free to simply be—to sit together by the fire, to explore the island, to share the small joys of this strange life you’d come to know.

You couldn’t say what the future held, but for now, you had each other.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

.

"Pixie, you're doing it wrong," you said, trying to stifle your giggles as Jinx dangled a net precariously over the water.. and herself.

As for what you both were doing? Well, trying to catch fish! You wanted to create a meal with them eventually, but realized you had begun to run out. So, you told Jinx you were going to be out for a while and collect some fish - to which she ecstatically mentioned she wanted to come with you and try to catch some fish herself.

And how could you say no?

So, you let her tag along.

"What do you mean wrong??" Jinx shot back, mock offense dripping from her tone. She wobbled slightly, balancing on the rocks near the ocean. It's painfully clear that she never has done anything like this before in her life.

“You throw the net in, you pull it out. Boom, fish!”

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest

"Except the part where the fish actually stay in the net? You know, the most important part?”

"That's an unimportant detail,” Jinx muttered, grinning.

“Hey, wanna see something cool I can do?!” With a sudden movement, she swung the net dramatically, trying to make some sort of cool entertainment for you (something that seemed like an attempt at a handstand)!- ...only for the net to snag on a rock behind her. The momentum of the action sent her sprawling backwards into the shallow water with a loud splash, causing some of the sand and most of the rocks to become wet.

You immediately gasped at the sight, filled with worry as your first thoughts were filled with those of ‘is she okay!?’ ‘Is she hurt!?’.

Then, she sat up from where she’d fallen, net surrounding her within the water as she spat out a bunch of water - almost like that of a waterfall.

This made your concern dissolve into laughter.

“Oh, gods! Jinx, are you okay?" You managed to speak between fits of laughter, rushing closer to where the bluette fell.

Sitting up in the water, Jinx blinked, hair plastered to her face as she turned to look up at you.

"I'm just testing the water quality, obviously." She muttered, clearly salty about her failed trick. And you giggled a bit more about the entire ordeal before finally regaining your composure and clearing your throat.

You extended a hand to help her up, but it seems like Jinx had some other plans in mind for you!

With a mischievous grin, she yanked you into the water beside her.

"AA!! JINXX!" You squealed as the cold water soaked your clothes as you were splashed from the impact. You sat up, moving some hair out of your face before you quickly splashed Jinx in retaliation with a giggle, to which she happily returned with a splash towards you of her own.

By the end of the "fishing trip," you had caught exactly zero fish but had tears of laughter streaming down both of your faces.

You really should take her with you more to catch fish. Though, maybe focus more on the task?..

Nevertheless, you both eventually got out of the water, completely drenched from head to toe. But neither of you minded, given the stupid smiles plastered on both of your faces.

“I’ll let you take a bath first. I’ll take care of your clothes.” You gently patted the damp hair atop Jinx’s head, to which she playfully scoffed at.

You didn’t even notice before - but her hair had grown a bit from the first time you’d met her, her electric blue hair now reaching the base of her neck.

“You want me to cut your hair soon?” You inquired on the walk back with her, dragging the net alongside you as she nodded, grinning ever so slightly. And for the rest of the walk back to the palace, you both let the comforting silence linger between the two of you.

The two of you should do this more often..

After returning from the fishing trip and ensuring Jinx was settled for her bath, you take her wet clothes along with your own upon changing into a robe to clean them so they are clean for the next morning while grabbing some of your own clean clothes: a pair for her and a pair for you.

Returning back to the parlor, you begin to fold up a clean set of your own clothes for her to wear, and as you do so - the memories of the evening bring a smile to your face. Jinx’s laughter, her grin, and the way she seemed so carefree during the trip.. it’s rare to see her like that.

You set the clothes you had grabbed for her on a small table outside the bathroom with a light knock on the door before retreating to the kitchen to give her privacy.

By the time Jinx emerges and finds you returning to the parlor, her damp hair towel-dried and her face flushed from the warm bath, you’re preparing your own turn to clean yourself off. She’s wearing your clothes that you prepped outside (which is similar to that of what you gave her when she first arrived here): an oversized shirt and some loose, comfortable shorts, looking surprisingly at ease despite the borrowed attire.

“These are comfy,” she says, tugging at the fabric with a grin.

“Though. I’m still the one with style.” She proudly proclaims, hands on her hips.

You laugh at her comment before turning on your heel to look at her.

“Right, because soaking wet and covered in sand is the pinnacle of fashion?”

Jinx sticks her tongue out at you in response before speaking up again.

“Says the one who’ll be looking like a prune after a bath!” She flops dramatically onto the couch, draping herself across it.

“You better hurry up, Trinket. The night’s still young, and I’m not done hanging out with you yet.”

You giggle at her words for a moment before you slip away for your own bath, the warmth of the water washing away the chill of the evening and the lingering bits of sand stuck to your skin.

As you take your time, massaging the shampoo into your scalp, rubbing the conditioner in your hair - you find your thoughts drifting to Jinx—her laugh, her little playful banter with you, the way she seems so at home with you despite how chaotic she usually acts around you. It’s oddly refreshing to see her in such a state.

Eventually, you finish cleaning yourself, draining the water from your bath and drying yourself upon getting out of the tub. You take your time to brush out your damp hair, change into the fresh clothes you had gotten for yourself, making sure you look at least decent before placing your robe on a small rack for later use.

Then, you return to the parlor, just to find Jinx sprawled across the couch, idly tinkering with some small gadget she must’ve grabbed from her stash.

The moment she sees you she perks up, fixing her position on the couch.

“Took you long enough!” she teased you, patting the spot next to her.

“C’mon, sit down. I’m not gonna bite!”

“..much.” You roll your eyes at her comment but take the seat right next to her.

The quiet hum of the room settling over you both. The late-night air is cool, and the faint sounds of the trees slightly swaying from side to side to the gentle breeze is a comforting sound you’d long gotten accustomed to listening for.

And when you least expect it (given she’s never done anything like this before) — Jinx leans her head against your shoulder.

“So,” she says after a moment, her voice softer now.

“Today was fun. Stupid, messy, and fishless, but fun.”

You smile as a small giggle leaves your mouth, resting your head lightly against hers.

“Yeah, it was. We should do it again sometime.”

“Definitely,” she murmurs, her fingers idly tracing patterns on your arm. (You cannot deny the heat warming your cheeks, and the way your heart skips a beat).

“But next time, I’m catching something. I’m not letting those fish laugh at me again.” You chuckle softly at her little comment before closing your eyes as the two of you sit in comfortable silence.

The night stretches on, peaceful and easy, as if the world outside doesn’t exist for a little while.

Right now?

It’s just you and Jinx.

Though you’ll have to rest shortly, you can take some time to simply relax with the person you care most about.

Jinx was utterly spent.

The day had been physically demanding, given from the few inventions she had begun in the morning, to helping you clean around the palace, to the fishing trip outside.

But even with all of the exhaustion.. it was still strangely peaceful.

For a fleeting moment, she almost forgot about the chaos and pain of her past.

Almost.

When she returned to her room, she slumped onto the bed without much thought. Her eyelids felt heavy, but sleep was a complicated thing for her.

The echoes of past memories, the ones she’d never fully escaped, and even the simple fact that she barely ever even got sleep when she was working under Silco or him.

Those memories always lingered just on the edge of her consciousness. It was always hard to tell if they’d leave her be or drag her into nightmares.

Tonight, though, her body gave in quicker than her mind could protest. She drifted off in an awkward position: one arm dangling off the bed, legs tangled together, and her head tilted at an angle that would definitely give her a sore neck in the morning.

However.. you were there, no?

You slowly peeked into Jinx’s room.

You hesitated in the doorway, biting your bottom lip, debating with yourself whether you should go in. It’s invasive and incredibly weird— but.. you just need to make sure she’s safe. Your heart raced as it always did when you checked on Jinx, a habit you’ve grown.

You’ve gotten too attached to the bluette to allow anything horrible to happen to her, so you’ve made it a routine to check in on her every so often. Most times after she had fallen asleep. On those nights where she hadn’t rested still for whatever reason, you made your nighttime visits clear to her as you just worried about her well being.

Of course you never told her you did it every night, you simply told her it was because you could clearly hear her being restless - which thankfully convinced her.

You felt bad about lying to her.. but it felt weird enough that you were doing this.

Stepping inside, you made sure your footsteps were gentle and quiet so as to not alarm Jinx. The soft glow of moonlight spilling in from the window illuminating Jinx’s peaceful but slightly uncomfortable looking form.

Seeing the bluette sprawled out, you couldn’t help but let a soft chuckle escape past your lips.

How does she even manage to sleep like that?

Finally making your way over to the side of the bed, you knelt beside the bed, carefully lifting Jinx’s arm and tucking it back onto the mattress. You also adjusted Jinx’s legs so they were more relaxed and less twisted.

Of course—not in a violating or weird way, as uncouth as these actions might seem. You’re doing it to make her comfortable! Not to be a creep!

And finally, you slowly pulled the extra blanket over Jinx.

The entire time, your heart swelled with an overwhelming tenderness upon seeing the sight. Seeing the chaotic woman you’d grown so fond of finally relaxed and asleep.

Though once Jinx was tucked in, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave immediately.

So, you lingered at the edge of the bed, your eyes tracing the lines of Jinx’s face. The bluette looked so peaceful in sleep, so vulnerable and far removed from the sharp edges and guarded demeanor she carried when awake, especially when she’d first arrived here on Ogygia. She seemed so harsh, so on guard twenty-four seven!

But could you blame her? Of course not.

Nearly everyone who came before her was exactly the same.

Though just as you had begun thinking of a multitude of other things — there’s something that got you out of your thoughts: upon closer inspection, Jinx had a stray piece of hair covering her face in a rather.. odd way. It was almost going into her mouth.

…

You hesitated before leaning closer, your fingers trembling as you brushed the stray piece of hair behind her ear and away from Jinx’s face.

However, as you did so - the bluette shifted slightly.

Oh gods, was she going to wake up!? Was she going to see you here acting like some sort of stalker!?

Your breath hitched, adrenaline coursing through you until —

..she didn’t wake.

You let out a relieved sigh upon figuring out she was simply stirring within her sleep, your fingers lingering near Jinx’s cheek for just a moment longer than necessary.

Then before you finally decided to leave, you whispered softly, almost too quiet to be heard, even by yourself.

“I won’t let anything happen to you… I promise.”

Finally, you stood, your eyes lingering on Jinx one last time before you turned and slipped out of the room.

You closed the door silently behind you and pressed your back against it, exhaling deeply.

Your heart was pounding, but there was a strange, bittersweet comfort in this late night ritual of yours.

You knew you were becoming too attached to her. You knew this wasn’t entirely normal. But at the same time, you couldn’t stop yourself. Jinx had become her whole world—and you were terrified of losing that world of yours once again.

You wouldn’t let that happen.

..

"I’m telling you, this is gonna be the best sandcastle," Jinx declared, crouching down low to pat a misshapen lump of sand into shape once more, grinning with delight at her creation.

You, seated a few feet away and meticulously crafting spires and arches, glanced over at Jinx’s work. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing at the bluette. It’s not you being rude! It’s just… you cannot tell what she's even making anymore. She started off decent at the beginning of your little trip here - to which she suggested in the first place, and it now… kinda collapsed!

"Uh-huh. And what exactly is that supposed to be?" You inquired, raising an eyebrow before returning to look down at your sandcastle, fixing every little detail as meticulously as possible.

This is a lot more fun than you’d anticipated..

After all, you were once so focused on wallowing within your sorrow, never finding the time to genuinely appreciate any of the fun activities you could have here on the island. I mean, you were trapped here - why would you ever want to get comfortable with your surroundings if you were here unwillingly and hated every minute of it?

But with Jinx around?

It definitely makes it worth it..

"It’s a fortress, obviously!" Jinx replied indignantly at your inquiry as if it was some sort of offense, gesturing at the uneven walls.

“Gotta be ready for a sand invasion."

You shook your head before looking down at your own sandcastle, trying to hide your smile from the bluette.

"Well, I hope your fortress is sturdy, because my castle is going to outshine it in every way."

"Oh, it’s a competition now?" Jinx’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she grabbed a handful of wet sand and launched it in your direction. It splattered harmlessly against the ground near you!

"Jinx!" You gasped, pretending to be scandalized by the sudden bold action of the woman. You eventually retaliated with your own handful of sand, carefully aiming so it landed just shy of Jinx’s leg. Of course, just because you didn’t want to get her dirty once again, nor did you want to get dirty with sand. That stuff is horrible to get out! (Though, you probably won’t be able to avoid that)

The "sandcastle competition" quickly devolved into a full-blown sand fight, both of you laughing so hard you both could barely breathe as you launched sand ball after sand ball of each other, even getting up from where you were seated and rushing around the shore of the beach of your island.

When you both finally collapsed in the sand, covered in grit and panting from laughter, you glanced over at Jinx, your expression softening at the sight of her being so happy.

It filled your chest with a warm, fuzzy feeling that never seemed to truly go away. Hell, every time you saw her it would fill your chest with that odd feeling, one you could not figure out for the life of you.

But.. it wasn’t unwelcome.

"You’re trouble," you said, brushing a stray strand of hair from the bluette’s face.

"Yeah," Jinx replied, grinning up at the sky.

"But you like it."

You could stay like this forever..

Later on upon cleaning each other up from the small sand fight the both of you had - you found yourselves simply sitting together on the cliff near the palace, letting the rhythm of the waves surrounding the island and the chirping of the birds fluttering on fill the silence.

Jinx leaned against your shoulder as the two of you watched the sunset. The warm hues of orange and pink bathed the horizon, casting a golden glow over the beach. Your heart definitely skipped a couple of beats, warmth spreading to your cheeks as you tried to remain calm in this situation.

For once? She seemed completely at peace.

You didn’t dare move of course, afraid that even the smallest shift might disturb the moment. So instead, you let your gaze drift over Jinx’s profile, your heart beating a little faster than usual.

"Do you ever think about what’s out there?" Jinx asked suddenly, her voice soft.

"Out where?" You replied, tilting your head slightly.

"Out there," Jinx repeated, gesturing vaguely toward the horizon of your island.

"The people, the places. Everything I left behind."

Your expression grew somber at the mention, turning your gaze to look back over the horizon.

You haven’t left this island for so long, you’ve forgotten what it’s like out there. So many things have changed, but this little island of yours stayed the same, unchanging until Jinx arrived.

“Do you regret it?"

Jinx was quiet for a long moment, seemingly thinking about your words.

“Sometimes. I think about my sister, Violet or— Vi. About how I left her to scream and cry.”

"And then other times, I think about Ekko. About what could’ve been."

She let out a small, bitter laugh.

“But then I think about how it’d all probably go wrong anyway."

You reached out, hesitating for just a moment before placing your hand gently over Jinx’s.

"You don’t have to run from it, you know." You turned your head once more, gazing down at Jinx as she rested upon your shoulder.

Then, Jinx turned to look at you, your faces closer than either of you realized.

“And what about you? You don’t run from anything?"

Your smile was faint but tinged with sadness.

"I’ve been running for a long time." You let out a small giggle, trying to make light out of the dark situation.

Your gazes lingered, unspoken words wishing to be said. But before either of you could say anything more, Jinx leaned back, breaking the moment.

“..I’m gonna go inside.”

And then she finally arose from the spot on the cliff before walking off, leaving to your lonesome once more.

As the days blended into weeks, and you found yourself tethered to Jinx in ways that… terrified you as much as they comforted you.

At first, it was innocent—a lingering glance here, a brush of your fingers there. But soon, it became something more consuming, an ache that twisted in your chest every time Jinx so much as wandered out of sight. (You don’t understand this. You hate it, but you love it because it makes you.. happy).

During the day, you were never far from Jinx’s side. Wherever Jinx went, you followed, often under the pretense of needing to “check on her.” Whether it was a quiet walk along the shoreline or a shared meal, your presence was a constant.

You insisted on carrying Jinx’s tools when she tinkered, your hands brushing against Jinx’s at every opportunity. You lingered in every hug that Jinx had finally submitted to, holding on just a little too long, your fingers tightening as if letting go might cause Jinx to vanish.

And at night? The same ritual would happen as you remembered. You tiptoed to Jinx’s room, your bare feet silent against the cool flooring of your palace. You’d push the door open just enough to peek inside, your gaze softening at the sight of Jinx sprawled out on the bed, her breathing deep and even.

You couldn’t help yourself.

You’d creep closer, your fingertips brushing a stray lock of blue hair from Jinx’s face, or even simply just fixing her position on the bed so she would be more comfortable and not have a horrible ache within her neck. Your heart would flutter at the faintest smile that graced the sleeping woman’s lips. Satisfied, you would then retreat to your own room, but sleep never came easily after.

The worry, the need to ensure Jinx was still there, always tugged at your mind.

So many have left you, hurt you, vanished before your very eyes due to the powers of the gods above as they cursed you for everything you’d done. Cursed you to this island.

But not this time.

Jinx will stay. You’re SURE of it!

Not only that: but hand-holding became as natural as breathing, your own fingers always lacing through Jinx’s whenever you both walked together. Jinx didn’t seem to mind—in fact, she seemed to enjoy the closeness!

The idea of Jinx leaving was unbearable. You couldn’t stop replaying the memory of Jinx’s arrival, the way your heart had soared for the first time in a century. You’d been so alone for so long, her only companions being the unchanging skies, the shining sun, and the whispering wind. Everyone left you, abandoned you to nothing because they HATED you. Hated you for what you’d done, for everything you had done.

Your fear of being alone forever became overwhelming after the last being had left your little island over a few years ago.

Now?

Jinx has become your entire world.

“You okay there, trinket?” Jinx’s voice broke through your thoughts.

“Hm?” You blinked, realizing you’d been staring at Jinx for far too long.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Jinx teased, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Usually, you’re fussing over me by now.”

“Hey! I’m not fussing,” you stammered, furrowing your brows.

“I’m just… making sure you’re okay. You have a horrible tendency to get hurt, you know!”

Jinx chuckled, reaching out to ruffle your hair.

“You worry too much, trinket. I’m not going anywhere.”

The words were meant to reassure, but they struck you like a dagger.

The promise of permanence felt fragile, like glass that could shatter at the slightest touch. And you would not let that happen. Not now, not ever.

“I know,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

But the fear remained within you, gnawing at your mind non-stop.

As the days after passed, your behavior only intensified. You found yourself tracing Jinx’s movements, memorizing the way her hair caught the sunlight, the sound of her laugh, the curve of her smile. You cataloged every detail, desperate to hold onto the pieces of Jinx that made you feel alive.

Your need for Jinx’s presence grew insatiable, and while Jinx didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps didn’t mind, and you began to feel the weight of your own desperation. It wasn’t fair to Jinx, this suffocating need to keep her close, but you couldn’t stop yourself. After all, how could you, when Jinx was the only light in a world that had been so dark for so long? When everyone had chosen to leave you upon hearing the god’s messengers give them the opportunity.

Yet this woman didn’t.

She never left you!!

So, why wouldn’t you grow overprotective?

And as you sat together while watching the sunset, you couldn’t resist resting your head on Jinx’s shoulder, like she’d done a while ago. Your heart pounded as you felt Jinx relax into the gesture, her warmth seeping into your skin.

“Thanks for sticking with me, Pixie,” you whispered, your voice soft.

Jinx’s breath hitched. She wanted to say something, to confess the depths of her feelings, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she simply tightened her grip on your hand, praying that the moment wouldn’t end.

But deep down, she knew that she couldn’t keep living in fear. Something would have to give: whether it was her unspoken feelings or the fragile balance of your relationship.

This has become out of control.

You’ve become insane, haven’t you??

I mean- at first, Jinx didn’t even notice the depth of your little obsession. She’d connect the clinginess as an endearing gesture, even comforting. A gesture that you were fully trusting her now. Jinx had always been starved for affection herself, and your constant attention felt like it was healing her own wounds.

But as your behavior worsened, Jinx.. began to feel smothered.

The amount of you can recount that you’d stepped out of line made you feel sick the more you thought about it.

Like, even though this was unintentional, you had begun to subtly discourage Jinx from exploring the island on her own. Every time Jinx suggested going off by herself, you'd find excuses to tag along or subtly guilt-trip convince her into staying.

“I thought we could spend the day together. Aren’t I enough company?”

Your nightly checks had grown more intrusive. Instead of just brushing Jinx’s hair aside and leaving like you used to do, you’d linger, sitting by her bedside for hours, watching her sleep to ensure she was “safe.”

And as your behavior escalated, the thoughts of what you were doing became overwhelming, as you had become hyper aware of the fact that this was in fact becoming out of your control, how your clinginess worsened, everything.

You feel powerless. Too powerless to stop yourself.

Your loneliness and fear of abandonment—rooted in those centuries of isolation.. they only feed into your cycle.

You’d begun suppressing your emotions around the woman, sabotaging her independence, panicking at any separation.

And she finally picked up on all of it.

Though at first, Jinx didn’t not notice the depth of your obsession. Your constant attention felt like it was healing her own wounds.

But as your behavior worsened, Jinx had begun to feel smothered.

“You’ve been acting kinda weird lately, angel,” Jinx said, a playful lilt in her voice as you two sat together. She threw a pebble toward the water, watching it skip.

“Y’know, you don’t have to stick to me like glue. I’m not going anywhere, so you can chill.”

Your laugh came a little too quickly, a little too forced.

“I’m just looking out for you, Pixie.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow, side-eyeing you at your response.

“Yeah, but looking out and hovering are two different things.”

You brushed the concern away with a soft smile, changing the subject almost instantly. Jinx let it go that day, but the unease lingered. She was used to people being interested in her, fascinated even (I mean with the Jinxers and all).

But this? This was starting to feel different.

And as days turned into weeks once more, and your behavior didn’t just persist—it grew.

You were always there: waiting by the door when Jinx left her room, hovering close whenever Jinx tinkered with something, insisting on being around for every little thing.

It didn’t take long for Jinx’s patience to wear thin.

“Why do you always have to hover?” Jinx snapped one day, her voice sharp with irritation. She was sitting cross-legged on the ground, pieces of a broken gadget sprawled before her. You were kneeling far too close, watching her hands move.

You flinched at the sudden question.

“I just want to help you—”

“I don’t need help!” Jinx interrupted, throwing her arms up.

“You think I can’t handle myself? ‘Cause I can. Been doing it my whole life!”

The words were harsh, sharper than Jinx intended, but they hit their mark. Your expression faltered, guilt clouding your features as you took a hesitant step back.

Jinx, although frustrated, rubbed the back of her neck, trying to keep her temper in check. She shouldn’t lash out at you like that.. You’ll learn to back off.

“I get it, okay? You care. But, trinket… you’ve gotta let me breathe.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, as neither of you said anything after that.

But still, you were once again staring down at her hands while Jinx grumbled to herself and returned to her work.

And despite her frustration, Jinx wasn’t blind. She saw the way your expression tightened when she walked out of the room, the hollow look that sometimes flickered across your face when you thought no one was watching. And as much as Jinx hated feeling stifled, she couldn’t ignore the pain driving your actions.

One night, after another particularly tense day for the both of you, Jinx finally confronted you. You both were sitting by the fireplace within the parlor, embers crackling. And as she had begun to speak, her tone softened.

“Look, I’m not going anywhere, okay?” she said quietly, drawing your attention. The goddess, or you, had been staring into the flames, lost in thought.

“But you’ve gotta stop acting like I’m gonna vanish the second you blink. I’m not some dream you’re gonna wake up from, angel.”

Your lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. Your hands trembled slightly in your lap as you shifted a bit, averting your gaze.

“I get it,” Jinx continued, her voice steadier now.

“You’ve been alone for a long time… and you’re scared. But this? This isn’t how it works.” She looked at you, even if you couldn’t see it - she couldn’t help the way her expression was softening even further.

“You don’t gotta hold me so tight to keep me around. I’m not going anywhere without a reason.”

You nodded faintly as your eyes returned to look her in the eyes, even with how uncomfortable it was.

But the look in YOUR eyes told Jinx that the message hadn’t fully landed.

But the real breaking point of this entire thing?

God, how did that even start again..

It was a couple days later when Jinx decided to venture off alone, desperate for some time to herself. She’d left early, without telling you where she was going.

And by the time she returned hours later?

She found you in a state of panic, your eyes wide and frantic.

When you noticed her, you immediately rushed over to her and gripped her shoulders, checking her to see if she had any injuries or anything out of the ordinary.

“Where were you?!” You demanded, your voice quivering with equal parts anger and desperation.

Jinx blinked, caught off guard at your sudden harsh tone.

“What’s your deal? I just went for a walk.”

“You didn’t say anything! You were gone—I didn’t know if something happened to you!” Your voice cracked, your usual calm composure slipping entirely. It’s like you were entirely different..

You are different however, aren’t you?

“I told you, I can’t lose you!”

Jinx’s temper finally flared at those last words you spoke, scoffing in response.

“Lose me?! I’m not some possession you can just keep tabs on all day!” Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

“I can’t breathe with you around all the time! You say you care about me, but this isn’t care—it’s control!”

The words hit you like a physical blow. Bleeding out right in the pouring cold rain as it had once before.

You took a step back, tears already streaming down your face as you stared at her, arms wrapping yourself as a failed attempt to make yourself feel comforted.

“I’m sorry!” you choked out, your voice broken.

“I just… I can’t lose you! You’re all I have, Jinx. You don’t understand, you’re everything to me! You changed everything for me!”

Jinx faltered, caught between anger and guilt. Your desperation was raw, real, and heartbreaking.

But Jinx couldn’t ignore how suffocating it had become.

“This isn’t healthy,” Jinx said, quieter now but firm.

“You can’t live like this. And you can’t make me the only thing you’ve got.”

You almost instantly crumpled under the weight of Jinx’s words, retreating into yourself as you sobbed quietly. Jinx watched you, torn between frustration and empathy, unsure of how to fix what had shattered between the two of you you.

“..I’m sorry.”

And with that, you immediately rushed out of the palace from the door that Jinx had walked in from, never stopping for a second as she called out for you. You ran for as long as you could, never stopping for a second until you had collapsed to the ground from how long you had ran.

For as small as this island may seem, you’re somewhat shocked at how big it seemed as you ran through the forest, feet aching.

Eventually, you settled on resting on the forest floor, refusing to return to the palace.

Who would want to be there with a monster such as yourself?

Maybe the gods should just keep you locked up in a cage, where you could never harm anyone ever again.

In the days that followed, your absence was palpable. You withdrew entirely from being a part of Jinx’s life, ashamed of your own behavior and terrified that you’d ruined everything. You refused to eat, refused to even sleep some nights. Even with how tempting the idea of returning back to the palace seemed, you restrained yourself - reminded of what had happened days prior.

And so you remained on the island, simply lingering around anywhere where Jinx couldn’t find you (for the most part).

She’d seen your hair a few times, but when she had called out for you once more? You vanished.

As if you were never there to begin with.

Jinx couldn’t shake the memory of your desperation. She knew what loneliness felt like: what it meant to cling to something, anything, to keep yourself from drowning.

It’s because of that you’d become like this..

You were so kind, so calm and caring before. But this corruption had already sunk its claws into you, forcing you to anxiety and insecurity.

And eventually, Jinx sought you out.

She found you sitting alone at the edge of the beach, staring out at the endless horizon with your knees close to your chest.

Jinx sat beside you, the silence stretching between you both.

“Come to berate me?” You muttered, voice tired and wavering.

“What?”

“You’re justified for doing so.. I just… I don’t even know anymore. I can’t even apologize normally anymore because of these stupid feelings.” You buried your face into your knees, tears threatening to form within the corners of your eyes.

“I’m so sorry. You never deserved that, and yet I did it anyway. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a normal being, haven’t I? Being banished here, no human interaction for so long..” Jinx stared at you for a long moment before sighing, averting her gaze.

And then, she spoke.

“Y’know, it doesn’t have to be like this.”

You didn’t respond, but Jinx pressed on.

“You’re more than just… whatever you think you are to me. You’ve got this place, this life as a goddess. You don’t need to hang everything on me.”

You raised your head and turned it head slightly, your eyes red and tired.

“But what if you leave?..”

Jinx let out a small, almost bitter laugh.

“Yeah, well… you ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy.” She nudged tour shoulder gently, her tone softening.

“But you gotta trust me. And more than that, you gotta trust yourself. You’re stronger than you think, trinket. You don’t need to hold me so tight to know I’m here.”

You didn’t reply right away, but something in your core shifted. It wasn’t immediate, and it wouldn’t be easy, but it was a start.

That feeling of hope once more.

Hope that you’d felt with her alone once again.

For both of you.

The rain pattered lightly against the palace windows, the warm air inside a comforting contrast to the storm outside. You moved through the halls, a plate of Jinx's favorite meal in your hands. Your expression was bright, softened by the anticipation of Jinx's reaction. You both had gotten on better terms once more, figuring out what to do so it couldn’t get so bad.

Of course, you still had a few issues to work through still.. but you were willing to do so for her!

"Pixie!" You called out with a cheerful lilt, your voice echoing down the corridor as you finally made it to the bluette’s room.

No response.

Your smile faltered slightly, but you continued forward nonetheless, pushing open the door to her room. You could see that Jinx was hunched over her desk, her posture stiff as she fidgeted with some new contraption she was working on. You felt your smile return, feeling more calm by understanding that she was busy and not ignoring purposefully.

You know she has quite the tendency to get lost within her work, focusing entirely on it and NOTHING else!

Quickly, you cleared your throat and approached the woman.

"Pixie? Are you alright? I brought you some food—"

"Get out."

The words were sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. You almost immediately froze in place, blinking in disbelief at the sudden harsh tone.

"Pardon?.." You asked softly, your voice tinged with more confusion than anything.

Jinx turned to face you, her eyes wild, her voice louder now.

“I said, get OUT! Are you deaf?!"

Your hands trembled at how she spoke to you, confused and concerned of what was going on. Carefully, you set the plate down on a nearby table before immediately returning your attention to the woman, determined to figure out what was causing all of this.

"Pixie… What's going on? Why are you acting—“

Before you could even finish, Jinx’s hand lashed out. The slap was swift and cold, and the worse part? She slapped you with what you KNEW was the hand with that metal finger of hers. The stinging against your cheek felt like it was burning, and the sound echoed in the room, followed by a silence so deafening it felt like everything just stopped in time.

You just stood there, stunned, one hand slowly rising to touch the tender skin of your cheek. Your wide eyes locked onto Jinx, who looked equally horrified, as though she couldn’t believe what she’d just done to you.

Your lips parted to speak, but no words came. And so instead, you turned on your heel and walked out, the door closing behind you with a soft click.

The days that followed were heavy with unspoken words. Jinx and you had barely exchanged a GLANCE since the incident, hell - barely even being in the same room together!! Jinx claimed she didn’t remember saying those things, but as for you… you weren’t sure anymore. Perhaps it was all part of the gods’ plan; to drive a wedge between you two, to make you suffer, as they always had.

So when they came to you in the middle of the night as you were at the beach, coming to tell you the most devastating news of your life. You haven’t slept all night after hearing them either..

And so now you’re here at the beach once more, your back against a jagged rock, your feet brushing the cold stone path. In your hand, you twirled a blue flower, its delicate petals soft and fresh. You sighed, your chest tightening as you heard the faint clinking of metal tools nearby.

Peeking out from behind the rock, you saw Jinx tinkering with another bomb. The sight made your heart ache. Her hands moved deftly, but there was a tension in her posture, a stiffness that reminded you of that very day.

You stood, clutching the flower tightly to gather the courage before you made your way toward Jinx. The sound of your footsteps were nearly drowned out by the rhythmic crashing of the waves.

“Someone arrived today,” you said with a blank tone, standing a little to Jinx’s right.

Jinx froze, her hands pausing mid-motion. You quickly continued.

“They said they’re taking you away… ‘that you’re not mine to save’.” You stepped closer, your voice trembling ever so slightly as you spoke.

“And soon I won’t get to see your face.”

With a delicate carefulness, you placed the blue flower behind Jinx’s ear, your fingers brushing against her hair as though you were handling the most fragile piece of glass in the world.

“So I came by to say: You’re unlike anyone I have ever known.” Her hand lingered near Jinx’s shoulder for a moment longer than needed, before pulling away.

“Because you’re all I’ve ever known.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you took a step back, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“The ones before you refused to tell me anything, refused to trust me. I knew nothing but their faces.” You elaborated, taking a deep breath afterwards.

“And if I pushed you, or if I came on too strong at any time, or if I ambushed you… for that, I’ll say I was wrong.” Your voice cracked, though you continued.

“And if you hate me..” the words came out like poison, bitter and sharp as the taste lingered on your tongue, tears threatening to spill.

“..then I am sorry for that, I truly am. But I’m not sorry for loving you.”

“Trinket..” Jinx’s voice was quiet, almost just that of a whisper, but you cut her off with a raised hand.

“Let me speak!” You cried out, raising your voice.

“I spent my whole life here! I was cast away when I was young. Alone for a hundred years! I had no friends but the sky and sun!” Your voice cracked as memories of your past flooded her mind. The years you spent alone, your freedom being taken away from you, watching all of your kind being murdered - your own father killed before you. Being forced to even participate in a war you never wished to..

“So when you washed ashore… I thought for sure that you were my dream come true. I thought I knew…” You paused, thinking about your next words.

“I don’t even know anymore.. that you’d like me? But I guess I didn’t, did I? That I was too foolish to think that? Huh?”

You turned sharply, your tone cold.

“So I guess this is goodbye, Jinx. I hope you’re happy… after all, you’ll never see me again.”

You began to walk away, tears streaming down your cheeks. You can’t watch her being taken away. As much as she hurt you, you just can’t.

“Trinket, wait!” Jinx’s voice was doused with desperation — but just as Jinx reaches where you had been moments ago, you were gone. Fading into some sort of mist like an unreachable dream.

The ocean wind whips around her, carrying the faint echoes of your words, reminiscing around as if to taunt her further about the crushing reality that is her future.

And she stands there, not knowing what to do.

Calypso!Reader and Jinx masterlist

[m30wk1ttycat]

"i love you," he'd say, awaiting some sort of a response. he'd appreciate anything, as long as it was from you. but no, all he'd get from you was a small smile, and a kiss on the cheek. you could never truly bring yourself to tell him that you loved him. you knew you did, but you never had the courage to admit it. now he's infected with the flare. he didn't tell you - how could he, when you were taken by wckd, along with the other immunes, and were just rescued after six months of absolute torture? to say it was a shock when you, brenda, and jorge helped them when they were about to get ripped to shreds by cranks was an understatement. hands bandaged and healing, you still managed to shoot down way more cranks than you should've been able to. observing your surroundings in the last city, you noticed newt rubbing his wrist as if he was in pain. when you'd question it, he'd just say he got a nasty scrape. when you'd ask if you could see it, he'd say that it was okay, and that the wound was cleaned. not once did it cross your mind that he was infected. not even when he yelled at thomas after discussing your plans. you only found out about it when you and newt were cuddling and you saw the small, but dark veins on his hand. the fingerless gloves doing little to hide it. however, you didn't question it. he wouldn't tell you, anyways. it wasn't that he didn't trust you - no, of course not. he just hated seeing you worried. oh, and worried you were, seeing newt struggle against the virus. and to think you couldn't tell him that you loved him broke you. when you did say it, you were half sure he wasn't even conscious. even if he was, it wouldn't be the same newt that you'd be saying it to. it wouldn't be the newt who'd do anything he could to keep you out of trouble in the glade. it wouldn't be the newt who'd sneak off with you during the bonfires so you could watch the stars and name them, while he played with your hair, and you laid on his chest. it wouldn't be the newt who'd always bring you random flowers from the gardens, just so he could see your sweet smile. no, this was the newt who could barely focus, the newt who was progressively getting worse. it was hard, having to watch the boy you still love fight, when he knows he can't. there wasn't a cure. if there was, it'd still be worthless, since he was now laying in your arms, his eyes glassy, and his breaths shaky, a knife through his chest. you couldn't save him - no one could -, as much as you wanted to. "i'm sorry," you sob, newt interrupting you with a "don't be" just like he always did when you apologized for things he found silly. only that now, he didn't even know why you were sorry. his hand reached up to grasp on your hair gently, moving it behind your ear. "i.. love you, y/n," he murmured, coughing when he tried to laugh. "i love you, too, newt," you whispered, "more than anything." "..i love you more, though." i fucking cried while writing this, but u're welcome.

[ruewrote]

𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡 𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑛𝑠.

PAIRING: tdc!gally x fem!reader WARNINGS: gally's death, no use of y/n GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: i miss you by adele WORD COUNT: 928 A/N: this was really fast paced but i've had the end part in my mind for weeks now so sorry if its rushed :)

navigation | ask

they could never make you hate him, even after what happened to chuck.

as much as you wanted to, you just couldn’t do it. he had been your best friend, your crush, your rock, your lover. 

it was so good at first, maybe too good to be true, whatever it was it felt right with him. gally was the only thing in the glade keeping you sane, whole.

with thomas grabbing you by your waist, pulling you away from his body. gally giving you a last “it’s okay,” before you were snatched away from him. 

tears streaming down your cheeks as you reached out for him, squirming in thomas’s hold trying to free yourself, as you were both tugged through the exit by others in full combat gear.

you were finally out of the maze, but at what cost?

after his death, you were distant from the others except from newt. he always made sure you were eating and drinking, checking up on you when distanced yourself from everyone.

newt was like a brother to you, having him close helped, but then again what could he do for what only felt like heartache. 

your eyes swollen and puffy as tears rolled down your cheeks, trying to keep your sniffles muffled by the sleeve of your jacket as the others slept.

time heals. well that’s what people used to say, but you think that’s complete utter bullshit because how does this ever get better?

everytime you closed your eyes you could see him, his hand shakily holding the gun in thomas’s direction, his eyes full of tears, the infection spreading across his skin. then bang! jilting yourself out of bed, chest tightening, tears. it was the same cycle every time you slept.

feeling as it was almost selfish, you got to live, you got a chance to try to survive, but here you were here moping. losing winston only added to your heartache.

nearing the last city the sound of angered shouts echoed far, definitely too many for the eight of you to take on, so you got closer to figure out what to do next. 

gently pushing through the crowd, trying to get to the front to see what was happening. a hand covered your mouth, muffling you crying out for help. the other around your waist as the person who grabbed you lifted you off the ground.

the others were still ahead of you, not noticing what was happening, until it was too late. out of nowhere mini missiles were getting shot at the ground beside you, making the person who had you fumble, almost letting you go.

another person in a gas mask watched this happen, they started to grab your legs and dragged you towards a truck, if you were gonna go, you were gonna go kicking and screaming all the way.

“get off of her!” newt yelled, dragging the man who had your feet off of you, but another two came up behind him and got him too.

both of you were soon thrown into a beaten down blue truck, leaving you sat side by side, breathing heavily. a certain are you alright? look shared between the two of you before staring down the three armed, masked people in front of you.

the car ride tense and rocky as the vehicle drifted around corners, making you bump shoulders with newt. 

it soon came to an abrupt stop, the doors being pulled open and the two of you nudged out of it. looking around you, you could see an abandoned car park, thomas and brenda, multiple guys with masks.

the sounds of muffled fighting could be heard in the van beside you, then bursts out jumping on the person, jorge punching them.

shouting about where brenda was, but soon stopped when he found her.

“it’s alright, we’re on the same side,” 

thomas stepping closer, pushing you protectively behind him, “who the hell are you?”

after a long pause the unknown leader takes off his mask, “gally?” you mutter in disbelief, peeking out from behind thomas.

his eyes soften at the sight of you, “hey sweetheart,” giving you that familiar smile that you had missed so much. 

it doesn’t take long for you to bound up to him, throwing your arms around his neck, bringing him into a bone crushing hug. he hugged you back even tighter, lifting you off of the ground with ease.

you moved back just enough to look at his face, a soft smile danced over your lips as tears filled your eyes once again, “what the fuck. how is this real?”

“i’ll explain everything inside, c’mon,” he placed you back on the ground, grasping your hand in his own as he signalled the others to follow him.

bonus:

you were now cuddled up in bed with gally. your head on his chest, legs intertwined, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“i never thought we’d have this again,” speaking softly as you looked up at him, “i really thought i lost you.” 

he gazes down at you, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, “whether you like it or not, i'm not going to give up on you…on us.”

“that’s what i like to hear,” you joke, playfully elbowing his side with your arm, earning a chuckle from him as you cuddled closer to each other.

for the first time in months you’d finally be able to sleep peacefully with him by your side again.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[missdarhk]

the second he said athena I knew what was coming and yet I still shook my head in utter denial and devastation as soon as that last frame popped on my screen

HE DID NOT JUST-

[just-a-girl-who-loves-tmr]

Headcanons

Recovery, Post death-cure, safe haven

(I’m sorry in advance)

Tw: depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts/attempts, self harm, panic attacks etc

Thomas

- This man has some extreme survivors guilt from everything.

- He gets flashbacks, especially in dreams, of him working with WICKED, helping them build the maze and having to watch his friends through the beetle blades.

- He feels responsible for everything his friends went through in the glade and for not trying harder to help them (even though the others have continuously told him that they don’t blame him and it wasn’t his fault).

- Even through the scorch, he feels guilty for not doing more to help because if he had only acted faster, they might not be there at all.

- He sometimes has panic attacks because of this and on the worst days he wishes he could have died instead of his friends because he feels like their deaths were his fault.

- Occasionally he turns to self harm, believing that he deserved to feel the pain he put his friends to.

- Newt found him once with the knife in his hand and immediately stopped him, cleaning the cuts and making Thomas promise never to do it again because nothing was his fault and he doesn’t deserve to feel pain.

- Newt then makes it a regular occurrence to draw little butterflies on Thomas’s wrist and arms (iykyk)

- Newt got really worried the first time Thomas had a panic attack in front of him because he didn’t really know what to do to help but he slowly figured out little ways to calm him down.

- Taking him to a quiet, familiar place, helping him breathe, making him tea and cuddling up with a blanket and a movie on in the background

Newt

- I think I already covered this in another post but being sick is a huge trigger for Newt. He gets super edgy and Thomas can tell. He continuously checks his arms just in case the veins are black

- I’m convinced he’s got Emetophobia (fear of throwing up) because it triggers memories of when he had the flare and he felt nauseous all the time.

- His immune system is weaker than everyone else’s so he gets sick a lot more often than the others and even a simple cold would have him shivering in bed all day with tea and five blankets

- Newt also doesn’t like to acknowledge the fact that he’s sick because he doesn’t want people fussing over him and asking him if he’s okay so he will just say ‘I’m fine’ as he’s actively throwing up.

- He usually distances himself whenever he’s ill because he’s scared that he’s not cured and is going to snap and hurt someone but Thomas isn’t having it.

- Thomas will wrap him up in a blanket and hug him until Newt stops struggling to get away and melts into a little shivery puddle in Thomas’s arms

- Once he’s finally accepted that he is ill, Newt becomes very very clingy towards Thomas and stays in bed all day with tea and a hot water bottle

- I also think Newt and Brenda would be really good friends in the safe haven because they’ve both had the flare before (obviously Brenda was cured relatively quickly but still) so they can relate to each other and Newt sometimes feels like Brenda’s the only one who really knows what he went through, so he talks to her about it when he doesn’t want to go vent to Thomas or Minho

- He has a lot of nightmares from when he was a crank, often dreaming that he had died or else had cracked and hurt someone and more than once has woken up screaming with tears in his eyes and blood in his mouth because he bit his tongue so hard.

- His broken leg gets better over time but it never fully heals. Jorge told him that he should really be using a cane or a crutch but Newt done right refuses either because he hates people making a fuss over it and he will still work even if the pain is so bad he literally has to hop around (Thomas isn’t having this either and drags Newt to bed and massages his leg for him)

- Newt still had suicidal thoughts. They aren’t as strong as they were in the glade and he doesn’t seriously consider trying anything but it’s always in the back of him mind. Thomas is the one who gets him his little safety pin necklace because he knows it’s something Newt struggles with ( and yes Newt did cry when Thomas gave it to him. Tell me I’m wrong)

I will do Minho, Gally, and everyone else but I’m splitting it up into different posts just so y’all aren’t waiting forever <33

[highrhulain85]

How Long Has It Been ... 4 Million Years

Words: 3018

Rating: General Audiences

Optimus Prime/Elita One, Chromia/Ironhide

My tribute to the Transformers 40th Anniversary and inspired by the amazing works of Jorge Rivera-Herrans Musical EPIC.

 To "Would You Fall in Love with Me Again" of the Ithaca Saga of EPIC: the Musical.

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE MENTIONED SONG, CHARACTERS AND FRANCHISES AND PLEASE, PLEASE LISTEN AND/OR WATCH EPIC: the Musical IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT YET! ITS AMAZING. The scene written has no set Transformers Fandom, just my own version.

The great war is over and Optimus Prime and many Autobots return to Cybertron with all they had promised. Many welcomed them home with joy, however some have not. Yet, this was not Optimus' concern, he can deal with the negativity from multiple bots, however only one bot's opinion matters to him above all.

After 4 million years Optimus and Elita One would reunite, yet would all that time away have faded their bond and would Elita accept who Optimus had become?

I made a few tweaks in the lyrics to make it more accurate to the characters.

Once you see this "#", you can start playing the song, "Would you Fall in Love with Me Again." Make sure you read the full story first to get an idea of how each scene plays out in the song.

All rejoiced that the war was finally over. All factions could return home to Cybertron, the world they had to abandon. Relations were reforging in many forms, some bad, most are good, and a few are much better. They had praised the Autobots and their Prime for their victory and welcomed them home with gratitude and glory.

Yet, a tension still creeped in the celebrations with the victorious bots.

Cybertron 20XX, Iacon (Currently under restoration.)

The group of returning Autobots drove through the wrecked terrain of their former home world. With Optimus in the lead, his vanguard and staff behind him, and their human companions, Spike and Carly Witwicky, in between them while riding within Bumblebee. They followed the blue warrior and vanguard of the Cybertronian Resistance, Chromia. Each of the Autobots had feelings of longing, regret, fear, and resignation of the chaos that lay before and beyond their sights. Most knew the restoration, since Earth’s discovery of an energon deposit on one of Saturn's moons, had relieved tension of starvation to their planet. However, the scars of war ran deep for both warring factions and would take a very long time to heal. 

A taste of resentment hung in the air despite welcoming celebrations, when the Ark finally returned to Cybertron with the needed energon and reinforcements. This resentment was not just at former Decepticons, Autobots, and Neutrals to each other, but also at the returning Prime who made a promise of said return. Which he did keep, but they felt he had come so late and few felt that he and the promised relief was not needed. A campaign was held by one small group for the Autobots to leave Cybertron and be accountable for the war at the spaceport. One former noble mech tried to take a shot at the visiting humans for being disgusting Organics that took Cybertron’s needed resources from them. It had been broadcasted how humanity was integral to their home world’s revitalization, but many weren’t fully accommodating to it. Only Prime’s orders, and all the strongest bots, had to restrain Bumblebee, Arcee, Hound, and even Prowl from doing anything rash to retaliate.

If Optimus was offended or remorseful at all the negative feedback at him, he didn’t show it. He knew he would face this to some extent when the war was over, the matrix of leadership kept his processor running without the burden of self-doubt and professionalism in his role. Part of the perks of having an ancient artifact filtering emotions and grants wisdom.

He gave a heartfelt speech to the hostile crowd and was able to deescalate the situation from boiling over when Chromia arrived. Seeing the vanguard of the resistance, the protester crowd dispersed not wanting to anger who they considered a “true hero”; Optimus stopped an outraged Hot Rod at that. After getting a debrief of events and planning from Chromia she informed them that Elita One was waiting to speak to Optimus. She stated that it was about how to proceed forward with restorations and try to reestablish relations with all Cybertronians and colonies. Whatever opinions Chromia had of her own about the Autobots and Prime, she kept to herself, especially when Ironhide tried to talk to her. She wasn’t being coarse with him, just setting where their priorities should lie, but she did tell Ironhide she’ll talk to him when appropriate.

Now, the group of returned Autobots followed Chromia down the broken paths of Iacon to an area that Optimus knew very well, the old apartments of the docks. In the short distance, the restored Iacon Archives, where he as Orion would go on his day off and read despite his class level back then. Past memories were quickly repressed by the matrix when the group came to an old ruined single floored building. The luster of its chrome finish lost with time, with walls that had crumbled into rubble, and the entrance door missing one side, but to Optimus, he was finally home. Chromia stopped in front of them and announced they had arrived at their destination and all of them transformed into bot mode, with Bumblebee letting his friends out beforehand.

Optimus wasn’t surprised Elita was here of all places, but the meaning as to why she was didn’t escape his mind. He had kept his promise, but was it worth it for her? Ordering his men to wait outside with the humans, Optimus tentatively approached the door.

“Understand this, Optimus Prime,” said Chromia with no emotion in her voice. Optimus stopped to look at her. “It may have been a few years for you, but it was millennia upon millennia for us.” 

She tightened her grasp on the spear she carried, still looking blankly back at the path they traversed. Of a still ruined city she had witnessed fall, had fought in, and was now seeing real progress of returning life.

“We know that you tried and moved as quickly as possible to return our hope. But it was a long, long, and grueling time for us. For her. Some feelings.” She looked to Ironhide, who had a resigned look on his face. “Can fade with time.” She looked away from her Conjunx Endura back to her Prime with a sad smile. “Yet, despite all we faced she still let out hope of your return. Please, don’t squander it.”

From there, she headed toward the group and stood in front of Ironhide, who gave her the same sad smile back at her. After a few soft words, they walked off together to have their own private talk. The group remained back as their Prime walked forward to the building and opened the only door left wide open. 

This was supposed to be a private meeting, a long awaited reunion, but all those involved wanted everything to be said in the open and out to all present.

When they first arrived Bumblebee gave the humans a short summary of what was going to happen. The Witwicky couple felt unsure they should stay but a kind word from Prowl and Ratchet let them know that they were just as welcomed for this. Feeling awkwardly honored, Carly stood with Spike, holding his hand nervously, as they watched the Prime stop at the door to the building, with an equally nervous looking Bumblebee. They stayed silent as to not add to the tension, yet…

“I keep forgetting,” Spike quietly mentioned. Carly looked at him, his face had a look of sadness and understanding. “They've lived much longer than us. Our perception of time is so different from theirs. Four million years, a long time to us, longer than our species' existence, but how was it for those here on Cybertron? Constantly fighting, forging, and preserving their culture? They've all waited so long for Prime and the others to return home and most of that time Prime was offline after their crash and defending Earth.” Spike lowered his head, his voice trembled slightly. “But for the Bots here, for Elita One, she kept waiting for Prime. How could they–”

“Hey,” Carly interrupted. Her husband looked back at her, and she smiled slightly at him. “Let's just watch and see what happens for right now, because this is something they have to settle themselves. Everything else can come later.” Carly leaned into him, both of them giving each other a one-sided hug. They watched as Prime slowly moved forward.

Before entering, Optimus looked upon his reflection in the tarnished chrome mirror of the door. To him, there was no regal Prime returning home with honor and glory looking back. He saw all the dirt, the grime, the scratched paint, and the scarred metal of his body. He looked into his optics, though they are not like human eyes, he could see the tiredness, the past sorrows, the distress and regrets. More prominently, he saw the age in them. He was not coming in at his best, yet despite his current sorry state, Elita One fought for the home he left behind for far longer. He had no right to compare himself to her. He forced the Matrix of Leadership to release their filter on his inner spark, he will not let repression and old wisdom deny him emotional release. The Prime didn’t know what would be discussed, but he was ready for every harsh full criticism of his choices and mistakes. He will face his comeuppance at the one who fully deserved setting it to him. 

He took one last inhale, and let it go with the name he had thought he would never say with such a hopeful tone again. #

“Elita…” 

The room of his former life, while ruined, still held most of the furniture he had precious memories of. The war had destroyed most of the walls, only a few were still standing while everything else had toppled and left the building fully open to the scenery of all Iacon city levels and the horizon of their home world. The sun of their solar system was already rising.

There she stood, a statue of a fury rose color that contrasts the rising dawn over the far horizon, her back to him. At the moment he said her name, she turned to him with the same tired yet hopeful eyes looking back. At the mech of scuffed red and blue, who she hadn’t seen for 4 million years.

“Is it you?” Elita asks with folded arms across her front, looking at him with judging eyes. 

“Have my prayers been answered? 

Is it really you standing there, 

or am I dreaming once more?”

She looked at the mech, at all his scars and wear. 

“You look different, your optics look tired

Your frame is lighter, your mask torn. 

Is it really you, my love?”

After a moment, Optimus looked down to his hands, at the hands that may have saved many, yet also took away many.

“I am not the mech you fell in love with,

I am not the mech you once adored.”

He looked back up at her with defeat in his voice. 

“I am not your kind and gentle Endura,

And I am not the love you knew before.”

Optimus took a tentative step towards the Conjunx he left behind placing his worn hands upon his frame where his spark lay.

“Would you fall in love with me again,

If you knew all I've done?

The things I cannot change,

Would you love me all the same?

I know that you've been waiting, waiting for love.”

Elita looked at Optimus with an uncertain look and turned away from him, her profile silhouetted by the rising sun. “What kinds of things did you do?”

Optimus knew what words to say and said them without hesitation, letting each sentence form the memory it depicted.

“Left a trail of red on every planet.”

The memories appear of Cybertronians displaying a Decepticon or Autobot sigil littering many battlegrounds as Optimus fought Megatron. Cutting down the tyrant's followers with his energy axe.

“As I traded friends like soldiers I could use.”

Times in before and during the war, Optimus formed great friendships and careful recruiting to the ranks. Sadly, many had faced their death in battle under his orders or from blind loyalty. He never should have involved them, he always mourned.

“Hurt more lives than I can count on my hands.” 

Battles on Earth showed the Prime the true extent of their growing war. Visons of city or rural battles, where Humans tried to run, hide, or even fight against the Decepticons alongside the Autobots when they got caught in the crossfire. Sometimes he dreams of the screams of those he couldn’t save as debris fell.

“But all of that was to bring me back to you.”

He raises his helm to look back at her with surprising strength and voices his longing. He held a hand out to her to take.

“So, tell me.

Would you fall in love with me again,

If you knew all I've done?

The things I can't undo.”

Optimus seemed to wilt with regret.

“I am not the mech you knew,

I know that you've been waiting, waiting.”

Elita’s voice interrupted him as she looked to contemplate his words.

“If that's true, could you do me a favor?” She looked at him with a calm stern look. 

“Just a moment of labor,” she then pointed to her right. “That would bring me some peace.”

Optimus followed the direction, blinking at the sight of a bed made from a Founding Crystal Tree, a special type of living crystal that only grew and formed from right where it was planted. The very one where they had first met long before the war, long before Megatron, when they were only just Ariel and Orion.

“See that bonding bed? Could you carry it over?

Lift it high on your shoulders and take it far away from here.”

Elita threw her hand out toward the exit dismissively.

Optimus looked back at her, shocked at her challenge.

“How could you say this?

I had built that bonding bed with my fuel and mesh.

Carved it into the crystal tree where we first met,

A symbol of our love everlasting.”

His anger started to rise, gesturing at her then to the bed with an angry pointing digit. 

“Do you realize what you have asked me?

The only way to move it is to cut it from its roots.”

Outraged, Optimus turned and started to walk away, refusing the request, knowing by doing so would end with his broken spark.

“Only my Conjunx knew that!”

He froze at her affirming tone.

“So, I guess that makes him you!”

Optimus slowly looked back at Elita, who now stood straight and confident in her claim. He turned shocked at her, his earlier anger gone, and hope filled his unfiltered spark.

“Elita…”

Elita One, leader of the Cybertron resistance, slayer of spark eaters, last beacon of hope on Cybertron, and Conjunx Endura to Optimus Prime looked at him with fierce blue twin pools. She began a slow walk toward him, each step she took added to the affirmation in her reply.

“I will fall in love with you over and over again

I don't care how, where, or when.”

As she got closer, she gestured at him with a stern digit.

“No matter how long it's been, you're mine.

Don't tell me you're not the same person!” 

Elita swept her arm out, throwing his earlier said claim aside. 

The passion in her voice seemed to resonate with their world, their universe, and all other universes in existence, as if to challenge all of them that their love still exists.

“You're always my Conjunx and I've been, 

Waiting…” 

In a universe of origin, a different Optimus and Elita are reaffirming their affection and purpose to each other outside a large dome structure of their home world.

“Waiting…”

In another, two Autonomous Robotic Organisms are fighting their own battles, one decapitating his traitorous mentor, while the other tries to find her purpose.

Optimus' voice joined with hers to slowly match her passion and walked to meet her.

“Elita…”

“Waiting…”

A different Earth with a city called Detroit, a Prime regrettably fights against his former friend, who attacks him with long legs and poisoned fangs. 

“Waiting…” 

A planet of cold victory, a broken Optimus says goodbye to a glowing ethereal ghost of Elita who reassures her love to him.

“Elita…”

“Waiting…”

A different Cybertron, Elita tries to stop Optimus from destroying Earth’s Energon that she tried to steal. Desperately holding his gun as it shakes with his sorrowful choice.

“Waiting…”

A dying Elita comforts a distraught Optimus as he aims a glowing blaster at his former gladiator friend, who laughs mockingly while saying it’s the Prime’s own failure.

“Waiting…Oh!”

On the surface of a Cybertron, Elita One encourages Orion Pax to rescue their people from a false Prime. 

Optimus stood still as Elita stood directly in front of him. She raised her hand to his face as he retracted his mask to show her his scared face and tired loving optics. 

“For…” 

He leaned into her warm hand, as she looked back at him lovingly.

“...you.”

Optimus broke into tears and embraced her, and Elita did the same with equal ferocity. Both wept and tugged at each other letting so many millennia of separation melt with each second.

All that time, all their companions had approached the building entrance and watched their reunion with sad but happy tears. Ratchet, Blur, Arcee, and even Hot Rod, let their tears flow softly. Jazz and Bulkhead wept loudly as the normally stoic Prowl comforted them by patting them on their helms while secretly fighting his own tears. Spike gave Carly her own handkerchief as they both tried to dry their crying tears while they both embraced each other warmly. Simultaneously, Spike patted reassuringly on a bawling Bumblebee’s leg. Ironhide, after having come back from his own conversation with Chromia, was wiping his whole arm across his optics as he wept, complaining how they were all acting like sparklings. Chromia gave him a small teasing bump on his shoulder as she tearfully smiled, relieved of her friend’s happiness.

No one said a word as their two leaders continued their reunion, at one point Optimus lifted Elita up in their hug and twirled her around, her laughing at the absurdity of the action. After a moment, he set her back down and they finally separated just enough to look deeply at each other. 

With all the dirt and grime of years of separation and war, tired, but no longer burdened with a love no longer buried.

Elita looked back at him with a soft smile.

“How long has it been?”

Optimus smiled back.

“4 million years…”

They both settled in their embrace.

“I…I… love...” 

Their helms reached to nuzzle each other, their optics closing.

“You.”

To just enjoy the moment of togetherness at last, not as leaders, not as Optimus Prime and Elita One, or as Orion and Ariel, but two lost sparks finally together as one.

--

'Hands over a tissue box': Need a tissue? Because I needed 60 while listening to the song every time I write, rewrite, edit and re-edit, and review and re-reviewed this story. Primas!

Hope you enjoyed it, and if anyone can recommend an artist or if yourself wants to draw this story as a comic or animatic please leave info in the comments and we could work something out. Thank you. Happy New Year!

Added notes A) Having a filter from the Matrix of Leadership was inspired from another story on Ao3, "Not a Prime Situation" by CarlottaPrime. You should also read it as well, real hard look at what Prime would be like without the Matrix of Leadership.

B) if you want to know the order of scenes-based media in the "waiting part", also it's not in chronological order, its: 1. G1,

2. Bayverse Movies,

3. Animated,

4. War for Cybertron Trilogy,

5. Skybound,

6. TF:Prime (My own Implied Head-canon),

7. Transformers One

[taemcains]

What do you think about Alexandra, the HSR author? Any pros and cons? I've been seeing a lot of criticism about her on tumblr but it seems like people on reddit still love her work.

she's an incredible writer. it takes insane skill to put together a coherent, interesting plot from hs lore. i love her characterization (of lane, the lis, the side charas and the immortals especially), her ideas for the plot, the themes she tries to embody through them. how she writes dread and tension (ep5 , ep9), the way you can feel it up your spine. the tiny, almost insignificant details that add up later on (noah left handed).

lane isn't a generic 'weird girl' protagonist that's three tropes in a trenchcoat bc people wanna jump on this bandwagon. she's written with so much depth and attention and you can just tell aleksandra herself must've been through it to be writing inner monologues like this. she's already so close to my heart and i always feel seen by her thoughts. as for cain... even without bias he's a crazy, crazy character. she's balancing all the aspects of his personality without making him seem cartoonish like other books i won't name. and i truly hope she heals bc no way a sane person thought cainlane up.

getting to the lows, when it comes to writing she fumbled the finale. she tried to fit everything into one episode and had to sacrifice screentime and consequently emotional impact for significant developments. and ofc the diversity issue. all has already been said (borderline homophobia, sidelining the poc and woc, two drops of melanin in the whole world it seems) so i'll talk about something i've haven't seen mentioned much – the heteronormativity.

it's obvious that she sees poc/queer people/diff body types as a novelty, an oddity, a deviation from the standard (in her writing at least) and it shows plainly in hsr. cain's character profile mentioning that men grew envious of him while women went into a frenzy, lestor's 'i save them for the ladies' comment and the worst offender: lane wondering if she started seeing anna in a romantic light as there were no other suitable men around.

compare this with arina who weaves diversity in casually, like the vampire lady talking about her lover, the option to set up tallis and onyx, how jorge is shown to love yoga and fitness as a fat man.

readers aren't stupid and it's very easy to catch on to an author who's just trying to fill a quota vs one who really cares about who they're writing. tldr she's a great writer but it won't kill her to have a character that isn't paper white and gatorade blue eyed.

[wolfnight2012]

Place your bets now, do we have 1 last Polites reference to look forward to, or 2?

So far, we've had some sort of Polites reference in Each saga

Ocean Saga:

"Open Arms" chords heard in "Luck Runs Out" (confirmed by Jorge in this video here)

Odysseus: "I still believe we can be kind. Lead from the heart and see what starts"

Polites: "We'll be fine if we're leading from the heart"

"Everything's changed since Polites" in "Keep Your Friends Close

Circe Saga:

Circe: "You've given me no reason to bestow you with my trust"

Polites: "You can show a person that you trust them, when you stop & lower your guard"

Odysseus: *lowers his guard by telling Circe his true motivations & gains her sympathy/help in the process*

Circe: "Maybe showing one act of kindness, leads to kinder souls down the road"

Polites: "Kindness is brave"

Underworld Saga:

We actually get Polites back/Open Arms refrain

"I lost my best friend" from "Monster"

Thunder Saga:

The siren uses Polites' instrument while trying to lure Odysseus into the water in "Suffering" (Jorge talks about that in this video here)

Wisdom Saga:

We get Polites back again/another Open Arms refrain in "Love in Paradise"

(Also, check out my post talking about how the Wisdom Saga argues for Polites' open arms philosophy to see just How Much it is referenced/paralleled/called back to in that saga)

Telemachus: "Maybe, it's all gonna turn out great. I know we'll be fine"

Polites: "Whatever we face, we'll be fine if we're leading from the heart"

Telemachus: "Boy I wish I could, so I could bring the world some light"

Polites: "No matter the place, we can light up the world"

Now, it could ABSOLUTELY be a coincidence that Jorge referenced Polites/Open Arms in every saga & maybe the Wisdom Saga will be the last we hear of him

OR, it could be a pattern, in which case, Polites will show up again in SOME way in both the Vengeance Saga & the Ithaca Saga (be it his instrument (like with the sirens) the "Open Arms" chord progression (like in "Luck Runs Out") or the "Open Arms" chorus (like in "Underworld" or "Love in Paradise")

Now, I've already mentioned a few times how I could see Telemachus being used to call back to Polites (such as at the very bottom of my response here) ESPECIALLY after the Wisdom Saga & how much Telemachus parallels Polites both personality-wise & in his beliefs.

So I'm thinking IF we have one last Polites reference it might be when Telemachus & Odysseus finally meet/speak.

Perhaps a semi-reprised lyric (such as another lyric about "bringing the world light" or Polites-like optimism) combined either with Polites' instrument or chords from "Open Arms"

Which could both remind Odysseus of Polites & show that the values of "Open Arms" still live in Telemachus, even if Odysseus couldn't manage to uphold them himself.

(I also like the thought of making it more explicit, with Odysseus acknowledging he sees Polites in Telemachus with lyrics such as "I look into your eyes & I think back that friend of mine. You're as old as he was, when we left for war."[which I got from @midnight-drip art here] BUT, I don't think this is likely)

A Polites' callback could come from Athena of all places, given that in the Wisdom Saga she realizes she was wrong to demand Odysseus turn off his heart.

However

Personally, I like the idea of one last "Open Arms" reprise in the Ithaca Saga, BUT not the chorus.

If you check out my break down of "Open Arms" you'll know my interpretation of "Open Arms" is Polites' noticing Odysseus' stress/trauma & trying to help him heal.

What if after Odysseus takes care of the suitors he's left unsure of how to approach his family? The wife he hasnt seen in 20 years. The son he's never known?

What if they're standing across the stage from each other, both parties unsure of how to proceed, then we hear a soft

"This life is amazing, when you greet it with open arms"

BUT, we don't get the chorus. After the pause, Polites' voice continues:

"I see in your face, there is so much guilt inside your heart"

Odysseus shudders, staring longingly at his family but still not daring to approach them after everything he's done.

"So why not replace it? And light up the world here's how to start..."

Telemachus takes the initiative. He takes a tentative step forward, then another, and another, until he's standing in front of his father.

"Greet the world with open arms, "

Telemachus reaches slowly for his father, willing to breach the gap but unsure if his touch is welcome.

"Greet the world with open arms..."

Odysseus opens his arms & yanks Telemachus into a crushing hug. He starts to sob. Telemachus hugs him back just as tightly. Penelope starts to make her way over, though she gives them their space for now.

Odysseus & Telemachus pull apart just enough for Odysseus & Penelope to face each other. Odysseus extends his hand to her & she slips her hand into his.

Then we get the final line, fading/echoing, as if it were making its exit:

"You can relax, my friend"

Signaling Odysseus can let go now. Its over. He's allowed to let go of "the war and bloodshed" and of the screams.

Then song 39 starts (which like, in my defense, if "Love in Paradise can have both an introduction by Athena AND midway commentary from her, then song 39 could open up with one last Polites reprise)

Not that I think this WILL happen, but it wouldn't be unprecedented for this musical.

Something like this would tie up that Polites/Open Arms narrative thread + it would fit in with the canonical fact of Polites' being Odysseus' emotional/mental support

(Also, check out my analysis/break down of Odysseus & Polites' relationship as depicted in EPIC for more on how Polites is canonically Odysseus' emotional support & his death moves the entire plot)

AND something like this would give the audience closure/reassurance that Odysseus' journey HAS indeed ended. He will relax now, he will put away the sword/warrior, something he wanted to do since the Troy Saga but couldn't (both as an explicit command from Athena & because of the whole Polyphemus/Poseidon business)

Don't read past here if you dont want spoilers for song titles!

[AND, just for funies, if you wanna read a Really long post breaking down the song "Open Arms" lyric by lyric, you can see my analysis of it (and of Polites' character) right here!]

[roseofithaca]

hello hi and omg the Stockholm syndrome with calypso thing. I've never thought of it that way for some reason. woah do you have any other thoughts on that I'd love to hear!!

Hi!

Couple things; so this has been one of my favorite songs long before the saga came out as the demo out on YouTube was pretty much the full version. It's so beautiful and tragic, but I kept assuming that - given the sympathetic vibe of the song - Jorge was going to change this part of the story to make Calypso less of a villain.

Like my assumption was she wouldn't be the one keeping him trapped, it's just the curse of her island and even if she let him go he'd just come back or get hurt. So she's as much of a prisoner as him, basically. But also that it would be clear she didn't SA him as in the Odyssey. It would just be an innocent one sided infatuation that she would keep hoping he'd fall for her over time but wouldn't. So at first I assumed the "I love you" line would be like "I love you as a friend, I would have been alone and gone mad here for years without you, you gave me a bit of peace after all the trauma." Etc.

But then the Wisdom Saga came out...

And Love In Paradise definitely has SA and manipulation vibes. Rather than helping Ody heal in any way, he becomes even worse. Athena says outright "she's kept you trapped out of your control". There's no wriggle room for that. It's not just an innocent love. I would love to have confirmation from Jorge if this Calypso did force herself on him in any way as I think it would clear up things in the fandom.

So with that all in context, I can't hear the line as "I love you as a friend". It doesn't feel earned, we've not glimpsed anything from Calypso that would have Ody respect her that way. So for me it would be more affection born out of captivity and isolation and feeling sorry for your captor, but still wanting to get as far as fuck away from them.

It reminds me a lot of the real life kidnapping of Natasha Kampush whose book describing her ordeal where she was kept trapped underground for eight years is a chilling read. But it is a fascinating insight into what we think of as "Stockholm Syndrome" and how it's not like people imagine where they're brainwashed to be hopelessly devoted to them (and before anyone jumps down my throat, yes I know there's some debate over the name and having it be seen as a mental health condition when it's mostly just human empathy and survival tactic). Natasha's complex feelings towards her abuser and how media tried to romanticise it after her escape reminds me a lot of Odysseus and Calypso. She feared this man, he made her life a misery and treated her worse than a dog - but he was still the only company she had for eight years. There would be times when she felt fleeting moments of normalcy and affection, it's just human nature for that to create a bond. And she would grow sympathy for how messed up he clearly was, probably in much the same way Ody felt sympathy for Calypso being trapped alone.

Yes Calypso is a goddess but she feels the most human out of all the ones who appear in Epic, in the most messy way humans can be.

Hope I've explained that well. 😅

[thatpyroblogs]

Long 600 Strike Rant

Spoilers for the song 600 Strike below

Had a night to think over what I saw and man I am still so disappointed by that song and, mostly specifically, the animation. Now I want to clarify that I mean what the animation showed (and thus what Jorge asked the animator to do) not the quality of the animation (it was nicely made). I just really hated the windbag jetpack. I know Jorge has repeatedly talked about how anime is a big inspiration for him and also how he would like Epic to be turned into a videogame, but man that jetpack is just came out of nowhere to me.

Not a big fan of beating a god with what appears to be the strength of his 600 dead men (and I'm not sure how many of them would want to help him given how some of them die). I'm also wondering what is supposed to keep Poseidon from just flooding Ithaca after he heals back up. I can't imagine him actually being so scared of Odysseus that he won't try and get revenge. The man lives on a tiny island! Poseidon has destroyed bigger before!

I think part of what I'm really hating is I see a way it could have worked. If Jorge had had Athena met back up with Odysseus at some point before 600 strikes. She would still be weak and messed up from God Games, but her and Odysseus working together would even the playing field in the fight against Poseidon.

This would bring the musical story back on track with the actual story. In the story Athena calms Poseidon's storm for Odysseus allowing him to get to the safety of Phaecia. Epic could have continued with the plan to skip Phaeacia and just had Athena's Epic version of calming of the storm be her and Odysseus reconciling and working together to take down Poseidon.

My version of 600 Strike would have had Athena pulling the drowning Odysseus into quick time where they reconcile and agree to work together to defeat Poseidon. Odysseus still uses the windbag, but only to escape the water (no jetpack). If the whole flying still has to happen why not divine owl wings from Athena or something similar? Either way together they should be able to take on Poseidon as there is precedent for Athena giving mortals the ability to kick godly butt (looking at you Diomedes).

Then after that Odysseus can still end up stuck on the rock with a weakened Poseidon. Athena, who again still hasn't recovered from God Games, no longer has the energy to keep pumping divine energy into Odysseus, thus he returns to being a mortal man . Poseidon taunts the two just like in the song since Odysseus has no divine help now and he opened the windbag allowing Poseidon's storm to now trap him.

Odysseus would still pick up the trident and torture Poseidon. Now you can even have Poseidon begging Athena to call off her champion and her refusing to stop Odysseus as he gets his vengeance. Poseidon eventually agrees to let Odysseus go with the knowledge he is now protected once more by Athena.

Though I'm still not sure that solves the whole Poseidon being petty and drowning Ithaca or Odysseus at a later date issue. Maybe during the torture bit have Poseidon say something about how the other gods won't let Odysseus get away with what he is doing to him. Then you can have Athena reveal that Zeus has sanctioned what is happening to Poseidon. I feel like if Zeus is thrown in as supposedly having interest in Ithaca/Odysseus than Poseidon would be less likely to retaliate at a later date.

Of course maybe I'm overthinking something that won't turn out to be a plot hole. Maybe there will be some info given in one of the last songs that will reveal why Poseidon can't just come back later and ruin Odysseus's life. I'm really hoping that happens and 600 Strike can just become the one song where I ignore the official animation. I'm also hoping we get Athena back at some point before the end of the musical. I really don't want God Games to be her last appearance. I'm afraid how she is handled might end up being another disappointing bit to this musical.

[shy-blue-blossom]

New Beginnings

Thomas

Thomas, Minho and Newt were running away from Jansen and some of the guards when they ran into a room to escape. Minho and Newt pushed things in front of the door for extra security they heard a squeak when they did. Thomas who was already pacing the room trying to find an exit, had a rough idea where it came from. He moved a few chairs and saw a little girl sitting curled up in the corner clutching onto a bag. As gently as he could he picked her up while reassuring her that they were trying to escape the building.

When she looked at Newt and Minho she nodded and then pointed to the window behind them. Turning around they moved towards it and looked outside to see a small pond below them. Thomas gave the little girl to Newt to hold while he and Minho picked a big silver cylinder up and threw it at the window once they saw the sparks from Jansen and the guards trying to get in. Thomas took the little girl into his arms before they all moved back and prepared. Just as Jansen and the guards started to push the door open they ran and jumped. Thomas held on thightly which she returned. They swam out of the water and Thomas helped Newt out before he made sure the little girl was okay.

"Y/n," She told them her name. 

Just before they could reply some guards spotted them and told them not to move. Thomas pushed y/n behind him to keep her from being seen. Thomas reached for the gun on his leg but the guard in front saw him and told him to stop. As the guard was telling them to get on their knees one of the other guards attacked them and they went down. It was Gally who had come back for them. They followed Gally but y/n tugged on Newt's pant leg before pulling a syringe out of the bag. Newt stopped and looked at her but before he could ask her what was wrong she stuck the syringe into his leg. Newt let out a scream which caught the attention of Thomas, Minho and Gally. Gally pulled y/n away while Thomas ran over to Newt and pulled the syringe out of his leg but whatever was in it had been injected. Minho rushed to Newt as well. Before Gally could start interrogating y/n Newt walked over to her and hugged her. The three looked at each other in confusion. 

"Thank you, y/n,"

"Newt are you crazy, she just stabbed you with a syringe!" Gally and Minho said at the same time. 

"She saved my life," Newt pulled up his sleeve as he showed them the crack bite healing and he was not coughing anymore. They all looked at y/n and saw that she was looking towards the floor and holding out another syringe to them. 

"What's this?" Thomas asked her as he knelt in front of her and took it out of her hands. 

"I took them off the lady who was messing around with a bloody bandage because she seemed to be excited about it working. I'm sorry I hurt you without knowing if it would work." Y/n explained without looking up from the floor. 

Newt thanked her for taking the risk and told the others they should as well because if she did not he might be a crack and one of them would have to end his life. A bright wall of flames caught their eye and they decided they needed to carry on moving and try to get out of the city. 

They all began to run and almost got caught up in the gunfire. Thomas got a hold of Brenda on the radio and told them to leave with the others. She told him she was not going to leave them behind. Vince and Jorge had come with a berg to rescue them. Brenda told Thomas to meet them at the tunnel entrance. Thomas passed y/n to Minho and told them to run to the others as fast as they could. Before Minho, Newt or Gally could stop Thomas, he had already run off. They went to berg and told Jorge to get high in the sky. They found him and Teresa on top of a building. Teresa Saved Thomas.

Safe Haven.  

Thomas came to and found himself in a wooden hunt. He walked outside and found y/n sitting on the steps watching the ocean. Bending down he said hello causing her to turn around and jump on him. 

"Tommy!"

He picked her up into his arms and carried her through what he could guess was the safe haven. When he saw Minho, he placed her on the floor again and watched as she ran off. He gave Minho and the others a hug before he looked around. 

"Where's Newt?"  Thomas asked but he nearly toppled over when y/n ran into his legs while telling him to turn around. walking up to them was Newt. Newt hugged him.

"You got yourself a little companion," Newt told Thomas while looking down at y/n who had not moved away from Thomas. "She refused to leave you unless it was absolutely necessary," 

"Ah, well," Thomas also looked at y/n who smiled up at him. "I could use the company," He smiled back at her. 

That night they all celebrate the people who sacrificed to get them there and show they would never be forgotten. In the end, Thomas became y/n's big brother and if you were looking for her you most likely could find her with him. 

The end. 

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

Masterlist

[moonshynecybin]

https://www.tumblr.com/moonshynecybin/741446960125509632 'The scans of his bones that sit in his email, twisted out of shape and healed sloppily. His relationship to Valentino, the same.'

this is embarrassing but i DID have to stare at the quote for several minutes before i figured out EYE wrote it.... this is sweet thank youuuu <3... um i also do wanna talk about that excellent post from @frogsonabike as well bc it makes me crazyyyy.... bear with me.

so yeah! marc's docuseries is one of those interesting little exercises in self-mythologizing that is well. maybe is not the most objective way to frame his sporting story but is CERTAINLY revealing concerning what matters to MARC. like he the one producing this, he's the subject of the documentary, and a big part of the structure of the show is literally marc sitting down and giving feedback about the edit straight to camera (CONTROL FREAK.) truly. there are scenes in this show of marc straight up saying hmmm i like this but i want to make sure we include x y and zeee so people can see how normal and happy i am :) because thats something normal people do. and so the whole project is very much in his hands and shaped by how he wants himself to be perceived... like the narrative arc of the whole thing is SUPPOSSED to be focused on him getting surgery and coming back from injury -- its a straightforward sports story that lets us get to know marc a little more and sets up his (hopeful) return to health/competition. a normal if somewhat micromanaged sports documentary.

BUT marc is crazy. crucially we must never forget that marc is crazy. crucially. so instead theres this HUGE diversion in the middle of our three act play just to talk about valentino for a full fucking episode. because of course there is. and marc's all like. i know we have to talk about valentino frowny face. but my man you literally do not under any circumstances have to derail your hagiographic feel-good comeback story to talk about your ex of seven years. he is retired lol. like truly i think it all ties into how traumatizing the breakup was, ESPECIALLY the way his personal narrative got kind of removed from his control during the whole deal... like forgive me if im wrong here but dani and jorge dont make any other appearances in this thing. marc had to make that call specifically for this lol. it wasnt just i GUESS i'll talk about valentino its wait a minute lemme call the other aliens they need to be here to back me up. actually dani being there is so funny but i digress. like i think marc desperately wanted to tip a lil of the balance of the scales here and saw his chance.... which is so interesting to meeee like he can say as time passes i love him less and less but it clearly still matters to him!!!!! otherwise he wouldnt have said SHIT. and then he dropped it on their birthday lol. crazy ex-girlfriend behavior.

[42bakery]

Do u read pedrenzo fics? If yes can you recommend some of them?

Hi there anon 👋👋👋👋 Yeah I do read Pedrenzo fics (and MotoGP in general), but I'm pretty particular on what I read, so what I might recommend you might not be of your taste. I also skip the pure fluff due to personal reason, but ABCs of Winter/Winter warmers is just that, short and sweet

One of my favourites is Love Is Gold. It's a Olympics AU where Dani is an artistic gymnasts and Jorge a triathlon athlete. Their relationship and banter is so on canon with them. I just love it.

Another one is (tell the world) all I wanted to hear. It's a re-written of the 2013 season without Marc on the picture. You can see how Dani and Jorge's relationship developes as they fight for the championship.

In general, any Cave_leporem Pedrenzo fic is amazing for me. I remember vaguely some and I probably need to re-read them again.

Jacket (you need an AO3 account) it's just the silliness mixed with the sex.

Heal My Soul (again you need an account). I don't really remember at the moment all the details, but it left a good taste in my mouth

Safe and sound it's not finished, but I love what it's been posted so far. It really recreates the Pedrenzo rivalry in a non-racing environment. Be aware, there's drug use.

I heard you like bad boys (I'm so bad at this) I need to re-read it, but I just know it's silly and easy and it's just like Dani and Jorge, two idiots in love that can't properly talk

quiero enseñarte lo que te has estado perdiendo in this one Dani ls lost part of his memory (he's stuck in pre-2012(?)) and has to deal with how much his life has changed. This one hurts but I love it

That Fucking Key It's a soulmate AU where your soulmate has the key of your heart. I remember reading it over and over again

We'll be royalty is one of those fics I don't really remember at the moment, but I know it's one of those I love. I think is because they maintained some of Dani and Jorge's rivalry that I love so much.

Baby please come home this one made me cry. Jorge and Dani are married and about to divorce, but then they have to do a Secret Santa and Jorge mess it up completely.

"Hi" this one is just short and silly where Jorge is terrible at flirting and Dani doesn't know what's going on most of the time. This is so on brand with them

There are some authors that I love how they write Pedrenzo, like malu (orphan_account) (I love anything they wrote about MotoGP like that Johann/Enea is amazing) and Zjemciciastko but with this one I go from I love to no due to my aromanticism.

And I think I'm allowed to do this, but I also recommend you It's cool, just my husband's stuff where Dani likes to leave marks of possession on Jorge's neck and It was time which is Jorge just asking Dani to marry him in an unconventional way, just like in the 2012 Catalan press conference. Yes I know I wrote both and I'm proud of them

And those are the ones I remember on the top of my head without re-reading them at the moment, which I might do because you anon made me want and dive into all the Pedrenzo fics