#and i think he'd thrive next to both. if they gave him that chance no matter how small it is

[ebitenpura]

merry early xmas to me!!!! thank you so much for this, I adore them dearly. sdfghjkl

Ironically, SoR - Alliance is the prime era of Eight's development when he's been shell shocked most into reconsidering the world around him and everything he's forced to reconcile about it. He's a bit...lost in this new galaxy, despite the same trappings of war dogging at his heels and the same path of violence he is forced to take to serve a cause, but the singular fact that he sees the same in someone else, that someone being Hyroh, would drastically alter his path. I think he'd clock that weariness in Hyroh right away, even at the start of a distant relationship. There's a certain...air of another warrior who has seen too many battlefields, and it's a look that few wear in either camp, but one he's familiar with, intimately. At this point, he can only guess and wait, and perhaps even try to get a feel for the Battlemaster whose hands seem so wizened from gripping a blade through idle conversation-- he would take an interest in the kind of person Hyroh actually is, but. Eight knows all too well the allure of letting the love of the fight do the talking, and for him, it is his most intimate form of communication, much like Hyroh.

I think they'd really have a chance to open up in the throes of battle, and Eight might even admit such a thing makes him both happy and nostalgic. That it's been so long since anyone could "talk" to him this way, and Hyroh might notice through their bouts that he fights like a different person over time: freely and joyfully, rather than the cold movements of an efficient killer. Eight doesn't think this alliance will last, but he sees a rich soul in Hyroh who he wants very much to learn about in as short a span as they have, and he'd give as much ground as he could to do it, because for warriors like the both of them, sometimes there is only each other. It's the comfort that you're not alone out in the world, bloodied as you are, and even if Hyroh were to reject him the further along they sort of end up at these odd meetings with each other he'd feel...satisfied. At knowing. At being able to have known. It'd blur the lines immeasurably for him, but he's far past caring.

Taizi on the other hand, would for all intents and purposes, pull the metaphorical rug out from under Eight with his approach. Never in his life has Eight ever been anything but under the thumb of the Sith, and he's been trained to survive spectacularly under that yoke... not this. There'd be a rather dramatic adjustment period with Eight dancing around Taizi trying to get the real truth out of his intentions, being so so careful not to step too far but just enough that it's...satisfactory, and Taizi would get the sense that Eight is trying to play his game, but not take the bait yet in a sense. He's more wary and suspicious than he is even with Hyroh, and that lies in his status as Sith. Power is welcome, but Eight is not easily swayed and...he needs more proof. Proof that this isn't part of a bigger plan to screw him over, crude as that is.

And I think, with enough time and purpose, perhaps even ideals if there are any, Taizi would break through those walls. What earns him Eight's loyalty and a man beyond a sword would be that earnest dedication to knowing him, time and time again, even if it's bewildering and almost frightening at first for Eight. There'd be rough patches, emotions that shouldn't be out in the open, but that's him responding to Taizi getting under his skin-- and that shakes him.

Anyways!! tysm for sharing your blorbo's and your thoughts i'm going to be stewing on this for. a very long time heehehe

for xmas i would like a written explanation on how everyone's swtor ocs would interact with eight

[artdecosupernova-writing]

Small Stories Hour: Darkspace Portent

Fight Me!

↳ "Orthrive'poliea! Your reign of terror within the Milky Way has come to an end! It's time to face me and your doom!"

Thrive lifted an eyebrow at Guetry, who stood across from him in the training gym, dual-wielding a pair of energy pistols and grinning maniacally at the prospect of actually fighting him. "Are the dramatics necessary?"

"Hell yes," Guetry said. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I have fantasized about fighting you since I fucking met you."

Thrive frowned at Warren, who sprayed a bit of his water out of his mouth in his effort to not bust out laughing from his place behind bulletproof glass on the sideline.

Guetry spun the guns on his fingers. "Let's dance, old man."

Thrive almost didn't have time to roll his eyes before he was being shot at, and he dodged the blue flashes one after the other, deflecting a couple with well-timed shields.

"Hey," Warren called out, popping the cap back onto the water bottle. "Do you know how sad it is that in order to have even a little bit of a chance of beating Thrive, you have to use weapons and he can't?"

"Sad?" Guetry shouted over the whining of his guns. He circled the perimeter of the room, allowing one weapon to cool down while he wailed on Thrive with the other. "Or pathetic? Because it's definitely one of those!"

"It's definitely both of those."

"Alright," Guetry grunted as Thrive leaned out of the way of his next three shots. "Guess we're gonna have to play dirty."

He took off into a sprint toward the wall, bounding off of it and doing a backward somersault over Thrive's head. He aimed a gun right into Thrive's face, but Thrive grabbed the barrel and Guetry's arm and swung him bodily into a pile of mats in the corner of the room.

"Oh, shit," Guetry gasped after he'd been buried beneath foam and plastic. "Alright, alright, you win! I give up!"

Thrive smiled. "So soon?"

Warren gave Thrive a round of applause. "Bravo, babe. Looks like you've—"

Another shot went off and caught Thrive on the shoulder, knocking him back a few feet. It burned a hole through his form suit and onto his skin, but it didn't seem to bother him at all; in fact, he healed it within seconds and regarded Guetry with darkened eyes.

"I said I was gonna play dirty," Guetry sneered.

He erupted through the mats and Thrive lifted one with his abilities in order to slam it into Guetry face-first. Though he was now crumpled onto the floor, Guetry kept shooting, leaping around, shooting, ducking, dodging, shooting...

Until Thrive balled a hand into a fist and slammed it knuckles-down into the floor, creating a shockwave that knocked Guetry into the wall.

Guetry called a time out, crawling to his knees to catch his breath.

"God," he wheezed. "Remind me…never to piss you off…"

"Is this another ruse?" Thrive asked, flexing his hands and cracking his knuckles. "Or have you given up for real?"

Guetry shook his head. "Don't think I could keep going even if I wanted to. You're unstoppable."

Thrive nodded in a show of good sportsmanship. "An excellent workout nonetheless," he said.

"Yeah, yeah," Guetry grumbled as he dragged himself to the door. "At least I know now to refuse any and all bets when they involve fighting you in any way."

Warren tossed a couple pieces of his popcorn at the window. "Boo, you suck!"

"Shut the fuck up, Cougar."

[xfindingtrouble]

a kiss shared at a masquerade ball. + Percy (he l l o; feel free to disregard! I just. Ahem.)

percy had anticipated that this would be a long night. excruciating, even. it was true, he could enjoy a good party from time to time, but not when he was supposed to be hosting it. now that vox machina had so little to do as a team, they had broken off to deal with their own individual loose ends. percy had responsibilities to fulfill, allies to make, hands to shake. it was all very exhausting. it gave him a new understanding for what his sister had accomplished on her own, when he was off adventuring & laying out new legends. it left people curious & if whitestone were to thrive, people would have to see it. experience what made it special.

perhaps this is why he had suggested a masquerade ball, of all things. it was a careful process, of planning the party. they could not keep whitestone's halls closed away forever & yet they could not forget the past. there were ghosts in these halls, after all. so with a carefully picked security detail, percival had melted into a role of anonymity for the evening. cassandra had addressed their guests at the beginning of the night, they had discussed it beforehand after much negotiation. percy would be doing extra paperwork for the next several weeks & one night of social anonymity was worth it.

the evening was spent flitting in & out of conversations, never lingering too long to be recognized. it was easy to remain a shadow, dressed in a lightweight black overcoat. It was simple, understated, designed for elegance & subtlety. it alluded to his normal style, but a bit finer, aesthetic prioritized over functionality. he wore a mask was not unlike the one he wore in his workshop, fashioned after the raven skull he wore at his neck. there were a handful of people who caught onto his identity, those of which percy avoided blatantly.

he was more interested in wine than most of the guests. most, being the keyword. There was a man, ethereal in every sense of the word. Despite his height, his presence demanded percy's attention. percy couldn't help but think he floated, the light fabric of his costume gliding behind him with every step. Intricately styled silver hair was impressive, lovely. Percy wonders briefly if he would be able to see the stranger against the snow if they went outside. Of course, Percy had to talk to him. he'd never forgive himself if he didn't.

so with sweaty palms & an already drying throat, percy asked him to dance. at first percy had tried to play at being coy, though it was easy to see through him. when percy dropped the act, he found his companion made a fine dance partner & made even finer conversation. even when they escaped the dance floor, percy found himself huddling in the shadows, people-watching with the stranger. it seemed they both delighted in poking fun at the people who took these things too seriously.

by the middle of the night, percy's ribs ached from laughing at puffy pants & poorly made wigs. lingering in the corner of the room, percy continued to drink & make merry with his new cohort. the last thing he had expected was to have fun tonight & for that he was relentlessly thankful. he had to hunch down to whisper quips in the other's ear & lend his own for any passing observation. it was easy to get washed away in this unexpected delight, in the undeniable draw he felt towards his companion. the semi-anonymous chemistry exchanged between two unknowns was addictive. there was so much to learn, to observe... it was better than the wine, that's for sure.

The stranger tells a particularly hilarious joke & percy laughs, leaning into the joke & pressing into his personal space. There is so little room between them, they had spent the evening on one another's arms. so percy takes him by the chin, gently... it's a chance to pull back, an opportunity for rejection. Percy had felt drawn to the other all evening, like the right look from him may make percy melt. it was thrilling. he thinks this is right, he wants this to be right so after a few moments, he steals a kiss. it's gentle, gentler than he is by nature... & perhaps a bit clumsy. he was not always smooth in these sorts of situations, but he was nothing if not bold

" I'm half-convinced you're a ghost, sent to haunt me all evening. You hardly seem real, " He admits with an honest to gods grin. There is a nervous energy to his next words, " good dance partners are so hard to come by, after all. "

[siderealxmelody]

Secrets

@fatedtragedie

Cahir was trying to pay attention and he knew he was doing a good enough job that he could not only follow the conversation but contribute substantially to it.

He couldn't help but glance at the doorway. Both their parents were here with Jurian and Vasiya now that she had her memories back.

Auberon was an important topic sure. But one he'd grown in the shadow of. One he'd met when he and Cirah had gone to his court. Sure he was eccentric and Eliren had briefly been engaged to him. But he didn't seem - evil like everyone else seemed to think. But then again they'd both seen the carefully made image he portrayed. Cahir would bet a sizeable sum that it wasn't the true Auberon especially when he had offered Eliren and her people a home. Didn't he hate Fae? Didn't he rale against them during his crusades? Nothing about it made sense but with Jurian and Vasiya alive again maybe they'd have a chance of stopping him.

His people were thriving and happy. Though he was sure there was stories and things he was going to learn. He wished Cirah could be here but she wasn't due for another few minutes. He had wanted to wait for her, stay with her when she breastfed their son. The sight always warmed his heart - it made everything he was fighting for that more real and urgent. She'd urged him away laughing as he pouted at her.

"Go! Someone needs to control them. Do that for me?"

He looked from the doorway and flushed leaning back in his chair.

"Can I help all of you?"

Aleksander snorted and crossed his arms.

"How is Cirah and our grandson?"

"They're well. Everyone keeps warning us that Percival will be a terror like we were but honestly I find hard to believe."

Hyperion smirked.

"You mean like you? Cirah was a darling as a child."

"If I remember correctly Hyperion it was Cirah that would drag Cahir into the woods and have them covered in dirt."

Hyperion waved his hand at Anastasiya.

"Semantics."

Cahir rolled his eyes standing as he saw Cirah in the doorway. He kissed her temple and took her hand.

"You saved me from hearing our parents bicker. How are you? Percy is with Antheia then? Where's Thalia?"

"My mother insisted on staying with him, I'm starting to think we won't see much of our son over the next month with everyone here now."

She gave a smaller smile squeezing her hand.

"Well I'm glad I came when I did - you poor thing. How ever would you have survived their squabbling?"

"It would have been touch and go for awhile if I'm being honest."

But now that I have you my love - I am saved.

Cirah chuckled and gave her father a pointed look.

"Papa I love you but you can't just blame Cahir. I did drag him into things. Didn't we go into some caves once?"

Cahir eyes light up and he nodded ignoring his parents glare.

"Yes! We nearly got trapped in a cave in - stop glaring at me Ma. We're fine clearly since we're both here."

Jurian had leaned against a window listening to the conversation. It was nice to see the next generation to see what had become of the Witches. He guessed Cahir wasn't a fan of him which was fine, he doubted he'd left a great impression on any of them in the end.

He looked to Vasiya as she sat on the windowsill listening and chiming in here or there. As Vassa she'd known them somewhat, well she'd known Cirah. Cirah had been the one to speak to the humans on behalf to the Witches. Jurian hated to interject and steer the conversation away from the reminiscing but they were here for a reason.

"I mean I'm sure she's indisposed but why not ask Antheia for Auberon's weaknesses and - what? Why are you all staring at me like that?"

It was Cirah who spoke. She stood and Jurian fought the urge to reach for his blade. That look - that look was all her mother - fuck if it still wasn't terrifying.

"Why would my aunt know anything about that man?"

Jurian looked to Vasiya who shook her head.

"I have no idea what you're talking about either love."

"Am I seriously the only one who knows —"

He looked back as Cirah approached him again. Cahir hadn't moved from the table. His face was serious but he could see the pride in his eyes.

"Jurian I suggest you speak on whatever you know —"

"I mean I caught them together once or twice during The War. But I wouldn't have spoken on it if I didn't see the Mating Marks flare around them. I —"

[flamingshieldwrites]

@annamusewrites

Walking back inside he closed the door over and placed his phone on the side. His eyes were drawn to the spilled coffee which by now was everywhere but not before they fell down onto his phone screen seeing he had a text. "See you at 4, best behaviour Ransom, I have a feeling this one's a keeper.... Mom x " he didn't even reply, of course she was a keeper only he knew now he would never be enough to keep her. Hopefully his mom would have better luck on the job front anyways. He shook his head, when the hell did he even start to care so much?

Pulling the dustpan and brush out of one of the cupboards he crouched down sweeping up the broken shards of glass, it would be his luck too that someone would cut themselves than he'd be the selfish bastard again for not cleaning it up. He heard the door then her voice as he looked up to see the bottle slid onto the counter. So now she was returning his gift too, why did that sting more than any piece of glass?

He pushed up to his feet, her comment about cleaning made him want to smile, but instead he just stared at the bottle. She really must be hating him right now to give that back. He opened his mouth to speak but given that she beat him too it, he could only stand there and look at her. Look at her dressed I'm his sweater and still looking beautiful even though this was probably going to be their last conversation.

He paused and looked at her, she was confused too? Telling him how her life was not unlike his, sure she didn't go to bars for hook ups but she had no ties and no commitments and that had suited her perfectly.. God she sounded so much like him. He frowned at her next words though. She hoped he would find someone who was better for him. Wow, now why did that hurt too? "Anna."

Making sure to push the broken glass out of the way he turned and walked around the island, still keeping his distance yet still wanting to be close enough. She looked like she was going to break down and cry again. Was he really screwing her life up this much? Then she said it again and it didn't hurt any less the third time around. She was leaving again, but why hadn't she just drove off when he gave her the chance to get out of his life for once?

"Don't.... dont go." He had no idea how he was even still upright now, his whole body felt like it was shaking, maybe he had fucked her life up, but she had fucked his right back up too. "Everyone always treated me like the asshole, the bastard Drysdale even though my parents were very much married when I came along. I got so used to being the black sheep I thrived on it, I knew my place. Then you happened. You walked into my life and made me want to be a better man, thing is, I dont know if I even can be." It was his turn to take a breath as he ran his hand up his face and through his hair.

"I don't think it's possible for me to change, but. Maybe it's possible for me to try? When I'm with you nothing else matters, no one else exists and all I know is if you walk away now we could both be missing out on something, no idea what but I want to see what happens, don't you.?" He took a few more steps closer to her, well aware she could run at any second. "If you really do care for this asshole then maybe it will work but if you leave now we're never going to know, are we?" His brow rose. "We're not just friends, we're not just fuck buddies and you never where a one night stand, not to me" swallowing slowly he rolled his tongue along the roof of his mouth and stepped up close to her so he towered over her.

"If you really want to leave I won't stop you. But I really do want you to stay just to see where this goes at least." He lifted his hand and brushed away a few stray tears from her cheek. Was it love? Ransom didn't even know because he didn't even know what love was supposed to feel like. If it meant he turned soft then was that really the worst thing that could happen to him? Not like he was going to be soft with anyone else. No, the worst thing that could happen and he knew now, was if she walked out of his life for good.

Bitter Aftertaste part 5

Anna & Ransom Xover

@annamusewrites

Approaching the kitchen he glanced over at her still laying under the blanket but from the corner of his eye she stirred softly. "Shit." The voice in his head was quick to confirm she was now up and he could feel his stomach churning. If he was trying to convince himself this couldn't go on then why was he feeling so much dread? Ransom was always good at hiding things, he'd had years of practice with the family from hell, it never phased him either when he was pushing his latest fling out the door while being called every name under the sun in the progress.

He flipped the coffee machine on and it slowly started to fill the jug up. Turning around and seeing her on his feet he did smile at her and spoke softly too. Saying her name he wasn't even going to offer her coffee, he'd got used now to making two cups at a time. "What?" He looked back and this time he could see the look on her face, no warm smile, no smirk, just the coldest stare as she went for him.

"Hang on.... if you just... but if you let.... wait a minute...." no matter what he tried to say now she just wasn't for letting him get a word in now. The spoon he was holding in his hand he squeezed without realising, his jaw clenched as he stared back at her now. "Are.... you.... finished?" Wetting his lips with his tongue he parted them to basically ask her what the fuck that just was when she stormed out , yet again before he could get a damn word in. She had left, should he have been relieved? She'd just saved him the bother of saying it to her only his wasn't going to have been so cutting. "Fucking HELL!!!" Lifting the pot of coffee he smashed it against the wall, his eyes watching the coffee as it ran down the tiles.

Did she actually just break up with him instead? Both hands pressed onto the edge of the counter he cursed over as he then pushed back and headed for the door. So now he ran after people too. Opening the door he saw her and the guy with his hand in her arm smiling at her. Biting into his lip he now found his anger mixed with something else altogether. His stare was cold, but he seriously didn't like anyone else with their hands on her. Not when she was HIS.

Stepping back inside he closed the door over, ten minutes before he was freaking out for caring and now he was just lost as to what to do. Running his hands through his hair he pulled his boots on and grabbed his phone. Like hell was she just walking out on him like this. He slammed the door behind him, now as he walked it was purposeful and anyone watching would have known he was determined about something.

"No you don't." He walked around to her side of the car, opening it he reached inside and pulled her right out of it pushing her against the side of the car. "Now, you wanna run all that by me again? Because what the fuck was all that?" He looked so angry now and was well aware the other guy was now heading their way. All he could do though was stare at her. "Tell him to back off, otherwise..." he didn't care anymore if he was in the wrong, she was leaving and he knew now he had really fucked up. What difference did it make now if he was done for assault too, or worse.

He licked his lips, the footsteps getting closer as he stared down at her. Her choice, either way she was already seeing a different side to him now. Guess he really was an asshole after all.