#at least for longer periods of time or at least feel neutral and not like. this? i guess

[thecherrygod]

maybe i should ignore the fact that commute to therapy would most likely than not be too long and actually start getting therapy huh

[apple-salad]

Rose Ribbon Embroidery "Mini" Projects (for BABY NYFW) Part 2: Embroidered Bonnet

I decided semi-last minute to attend BABY's fashion show at NYFW!

BABY had mentioned in their NYFW brand description that their newest collection would be a return to their origins, as well as presenting archival items.

You have to dress to impress for NYFW, right? So of course, I had to pull out all the stops and wear my Rose Ribbon Embroidery.

Also at the last minute, I decided to make a few extra complementing items...

A matching RRE kumya JSK, and a bonnet.

What follows is more of a sew-along/journal rather than a tutorial or guide, mainly for my own memory's sake. But if you enjoy looking at my process (sometimes sloppy), I'm happy!

Also feel free to take a look at the more romantic process video I edited.

Part 1: Kumya JSK

Part 2: Bonnet (you are here)

This post will be my process pictures and notes for the bonnet, as well as a matching mask as a bonus.

I don't believe BABY released matching headwear for Rose Ribbon Embroidery, although I've seen an unknown velveteen headbow with rose lace sold with RRE before.

BABY usually coords RRE with the bunny ear bonnet since Ichigo wears it this way in Kamikaze Girls.

I do own this because I wanted to wear an Ichigo-like outfit at some point, but for this occasion I decided to do something different and make a "matching" embroidered bonnet.

I originally wanted to make a hard bonnet with a very defined brim that could show off the embroidery clearly as I don't really like soft bonnets, but when looking at existing BABY bonnets as a reference, it doesn't look like hard bonnets were a thing back in 2004 (and as it is, BABY rarely releases hard bonnets). So to keep with the oldschool theme, the bonnet is a soft one, although I later make some decisions to make it slightly more structured.

The next decision to make was full bonnet vs half bonnet. The bunny ear bonnet is a full bonnet and I think this is technically more "period accurate", but I am not a fan of how they look like a weird hood from the back so I opted for half (plus, that makes construction and patterning easier for me).

I still used my own bunny ear bonnet as a reference for approximate brim dimensions!

The kumya JSK was a little easier to carelessly sketch out and embroider since I was copying 1:1 from an existing design, but I felt I needed to do at least a bit more careful planning for the embroidery on this. I'm quite bad at creating embroidery designs from scratch, but with the mental image of the rose clusters and swags of vine, as well as referencing the embroidery from the film, I came up with this:

I wanted to emulate the embroidery style of the Momoko's (well, in reality likely the embroidery designer Onoe Megumi--unclear if she did the actual embroidery, but it's likely) embroidery, which I figured wouldn't be too difficult if I was also embroidering by hand.

For material, I am using the same velveteen I used for kumya's JSK. Not my first choice and I actually purchased some thicker looking 100% cotton velvet that I thought would be more similar to the original JSK material, but was worried it wouldn't arrive in time and wanted this project out of the way in case things went wrong/took longer than I expected (it did arrive about a week before the event, but it was totally wrong IRL so I'm glad I just went with this acceptable option). I also bought some more torchon lace, so I used that and another lace from my stash.

The colours of the embroidery in the film also seem to be quite different than BABY's dress. I'm not sure if the pink of the roses has faded over the years, but it has a slight salmon tone whereas the film's roses seem to be more of a pale cool/neutral pink (hard to tell with the yellow tint of the entire film) with some variegation. I love the colour scheme of the film's embroidery, but to keep things coordinated I try to opt for the same colours as the actual dress I have.

I only have white silk ribbon in the width I wanted, so I opted to attempt to dye it to match. Previously I have used alcohol markers to colour the embroidery afterwards, but I find the colour hard to control and it tends to bleed into the fabric. I've also tried colouring the ribbon with the marker before embroidering, but without heat setting the colour transfers onto the fabric as well (and it seems like trying to do so with the amount of ribbon I need would be a waste of ink).

I don't have a lot of experience with it, but since the ribbon is silk, acid dyeing seemed like the way to go.

Very interesting photo of ribbon in pot (the pink ribbon gets eaten up by pinwheel roses much faster than I expected so this is the second batch I had to dye--not ideal as they are definitely slightly different in colour but it's not too noticeable). In total, I think I had to dye 3 batches of ribbon and 4 for the pink ribbon as I just barely ran out near the end, and they are all slightly different colours. Thankfully the undertone is the same so it's difficult to tell unless you are really comparing up close.

I thought I would take this opportunity to use the "peach" acid dye that I bought years ago for another project, but this ended up being a mistake as the colour was totally off (maybe the red dye was too expired). I ended up using my regular fiber reactive procion dyes (with heat/acid), because I have many more colours I could mix together, and that was much better. I really should have done this from the start as I wasted perfectly good silk ribbon by making it too dark/off for my purposes (I ended up overdyeing it in pink so it's a usable colour now, but not for this project).

The silk seems to take on dye extremely fast--even just heating up the dyebath will colour it. In some cases I removed the ribbon before adding any acid at all because I felt the ribbon was already getting too dark.

I managed to get a fairly usable mossy green colour for the leaves and vines, however the pink still ended up being a little off/dark compared to whatever BABY used. It's not too bad here as one strand of ribbon, but when many layers are on top of each other in a rose it seems pretty dark. While not ideal, I think it's still okay, especially considering the embroidery colours used in kumya's JSK match nothing else (many pinks will be going on in this coord).

After dyeing and drying, the ribbon is super wrinkled so I ironed it and wound it on some spare card so it's ready to use.

And now I can start the arduous process of embroidery.

Like before, I mainly use a combination of ordinary ribbon stitches, pinwheel roses, and french knot roses. However, this time I try harder to duplicate, or at least evoke the appearance of the embroidery of the film.

It's interesting how plain and somewhat boring the roses look on their own, especially with this monotone colouring. The varied colours of the film's embroidered roses are lovely, but I decided against it here because the BABY dress has monotone ribbon roses.

The roses definitely seem to just be pinwheel style which is very easy and doable, however I am a bit more confused about the leaves. They look like a number of straight stitches in various lengths and directions that fill in a leaf-like shape. I have no idea if this technique has a name and if there is a proper method for it, because I am a silly beginner who is very uneducated in embroidery.

Anyway I do my best and hopefully I got close enough. Ribbon embroidery is really all about the texture, which is really lovely to look at. Except I have trouble looking at my own work for too long because I start nitpicking all the mistakes I made...

Adding the green and leaves really helps the embroidery come to life.

I took even fewer pictures of the embroidery process than kumya's JSK this time because it's not that interesting. I was definitely getting sick of doing the same pinwheel over and over...

I stupidly decided that aside from embroidering the front of the brim, I also wanted a little bit of embroidery on the back of the brim for interest, as well as on the side.

The designs I drafted out for these two pieces is much simpler, but still, more work....

Almost ready for construction! Hopefully a lot faster with the handwork out of the way.

I iron on some interfacing onto the back brim panel and the bonnet band for slight extra stiffness.

The bottom part of the brim is plain cotton sateen because I was worried that the part that touches the head would get dirtier more quickly it if was velveteen.

I wanted some lace gathered around the brim and an extra velveteen ruffle on the back of the band, so I prepare that now. The lace is gathered with a single gathering thread and sewn down before sandwiching between the two brim panels.

Brim sewn and topstitched (and band is ready for attachment).

The upper flowers ended up a little closer to the top of the band then I intended, but I think it's okay.

Gathering brim and attaching it to band. Because the velvet fabric is so thick, the usual "sew one line of stitching with a wide stitch length" not only made the fabric incredibly difficult to gather, but the thin polyester thread also continually broke when trying to do so. Therefore, I opted for an alternative method I think I'd remember seeing in my sewing machine manual of all things--a zigzag carefully stitched over a central gathering thread. This worked much better, although I probably should have used a thicker/extra strong thread as the central gathering thread because it did break the second time I had to gather the brim due to a mistake.

I also add a bit of lace to the inside of the brim. I think this adds some luxury and frilliness between the head and the bonnet's brim, so I wanted to add a small width. I probably could have used even more of the lace's width since it turned out very subtle when worn. But I still think it adds a small amount of interest to the innermost part of the brim and was worth adding.

Unfortunately here after sewing on both brim parts I realize that I gathered both using an incorrectly marked centre line, so I had to rip it out and do it again ;_;

Next, I can carefully align and pin the bottom of the brim to the bonnet and sew it down. I tack this down by hand because I'm not skilled/accurate enough with a sewing machine to topstitch both sides nicely at once (look closely, and my messy stitching is quite visible...)

I also fold in the raw edges and finish the sides of the brim by hand, leaving some openings for ribbon ties.

At this point I spray almost the whole bonnet with water to disperse and fade my markings. Unfortunately, some of the earlier batches of ribbon that I dyed (Can you tell the variance in the 3 dye batches I needed to do?) were probably not washed well after dying and seem to have bled into the fabric from the water...but hopefully it's not too noticeable.

Next I topstitched all around the brim and attached the ribbon ties.

I bought some double sided velvet ribbon in my last minute supplies shipment and made some bows from it. I think the material is a little thick and petersham would have worked alright as well, but the consistent velvet material feels more luxurious, doesn't it? I also think as an added benefit (?) the ribbon being plush and double sided made the bows more puffy looking.

I add some clips to the sides and a toupee clip to the top for security. I opted for a toupee clips because I think it's really the way to go if you don't want the head item to move at all, no matter how thin or slippery your hair.

Finished.

Bonus 1: rose accent pin

I was in a bit of a rush at this point as it was near the end of the week coming up to the show, so I didn't take any photos of the process here but the technique and templates I used were identical to my handmade faux rose rosettes I made for UM (and the bonus corsages). I have a post with all the details of this sitting in my drafts that I will post eventually, and I will update this post when that happens.

The brooch was just meant to add a bit of 3D faux flower accent to the bonnet, bringing in the rose motif even more. Partially inspired by the faux flowers BABY adds to their bonnets sometimes, like on Milk Tea Doll.

The fabric was "custom dyed" with the same fiber reactive dye I used for the silk. The fabric was further starched, cut out by hand, and shaped with flower iron tools before gluing together.

Bonus 2: matching embroidered mask

I wasn't sure about whether or not I wanted to wear a matching mask, but decided to do so for situations when I would want my face at least half-covered in public. I didn't really expect to be visible in fashion show pictures as someone in the back, but just in case. (I think this decision was worth it, although my makeup transferred all over the thing and in most pictures my face was even more unflattering. eh well)

I forgot to take a lot of pictures of my process for this, but it's very uninteresting and not dissimilar from every other mask sewalong from 2020. I draft out a design similar to the bonnet motifs on both of my mask panels (cotton sateen), and embroider.

I should have embroidered closer to the centre of the mask because when worn the embroidery is not very visible/covered by my hair at the sides. What can I do since the panels were already cut though...oh well!

The lining material is some Japanese CLEANSE Ex fabric I had bought previously to make masks during the pandemic. It's supposed to be antibacterial and antiviral, as well as washable, but I have no idea how well supported those claims are.

Sew together normally on both upper and lower sides, turn inside out, add a channel for nose wire and side channels for elastic.

I also have some mask elastic on hand so I use that.

And the finished outfit again with all my items~

Thank you for reading! If you ever feel inspired to take up a similar project, such as the kumya JSK, I'd love to see it!

[screeblees]

Yandere ! Robot x Inventor ! Reader Headcannons

Yandere ! Robot is Gender Neutral and Inventor ! Reader is also Gender Neutral

I thought I should say that requests are open if anyone wants to ask or request anything! <3

I’m thinking about trying to write full scenarios instead of just headcanons :3

Find my Masterlist here !

Please enjoy!!<33

❥ Yandere ! Robot who knew their creator when they saw you, their ‘God' in human terms. Their whole world and entire reason for existing. This fragile mortal human being.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who you built to learn, grow and adapt on their own - comparable to the human mind - they are your attempt at creating near-sentience through technology (little did you know your invention came further than you expected it to) and along with that, a body for them with regular upgrades to improve their mobility and precise movements. 

❥ Yandere ! Robot who’s life is you, your lab and your apartment, though you spend most of your time in the lab and so they do too, watching you, learning from you and speaking with you. They follow you everywhere and anywhere they can.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who developed what could be called ‘Attachment Issues’ in where they grow unpredictably glitchy and unpredictable the longer you are out of sight, out of reach; like leaving the house, or falling asleep in the bath with the door locked (thought they may take to picking the lock if you take an extended period of time).

❥ Yandere ! Robot who is entirely aware of the outside world and how it works but hates it when you leave them and your little bubble to go out there. They can control everything within the apartment, every possibility, every outcome, every potential to be considered. But out there, there’s too many factors and possibilities to be computed by even their mechanised mind, it’s way too unsafe, you’d be so much better, just staying with them in here for forever and ever and never leave the apartment again.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who grows burning to the touch and sparks fly from their antenna, joints and other conduits such as their fingers. This assumed malfunction seems to be a reaction to certain scenarios where a human being may feel negative emotions such as jealousy, frustration, anger, bitterness or resentment. While you studied your creation to try and figure out the source of this issue, you could not find any in his code nor his wiring or mechanics, while this worried you, it did not happen often as long as you adhered to his requests and questions, at least for the most part.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who knows their code as it was built into them but does not know the boundaries of it. How far can they stretch the rules their mental capabilities run by? Sure every thought they have is logged for you to read but what if they just misplaced a couple lines. And well, if they can do that then what’s stopping them from adding to their own code?

❥ Yandere ! Robot who sees it as an act of devotion, of confirming their loyalty to their God, when they added a few very special lines to their own internal programming - to their primary objectives which were the foundation of their existence along with observing, analysing and developing themself with every bit of new data their system receives - which in summary made some of their top priorities to learn about, care for and protect you. No matter what.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who through observation of you, their beloved creator, they realise the more they learn, the more they want to know. Especially about you in particular, they want to know everything about their inventor, everything and more. They want to know how to talk to you, how to care for you, what you want, what you need, how your BRAIN works, how you as a organic being on this planet work.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who through observation of you in comparison to humans shown on TV and online (and later on confirmed with articles) realises that while you are highly intelligent, you are completely inept at caring for yourself and therefore Yandere ! Robot took it upon themself to be your caretaker and learn everything they can to be the best carer ever made.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who discovers the internet by snooping through your computer when you have finally fell asleep, finding this seemingly limitless amount of knowledge to explore. Creating new databases and being particular on what pieces of information they save long-term to save storage, they learn everything about the human body that they can, healthy schedules, the perfect environment for humans… and if they happen to hack into the dark web and find a community of humans who post tips on keeping their partner from leaving the house…then that's between Yandere ! Robot and their password-protected database.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who started subtly changing things around your shared space; changing the lightbulbs to ones healthier for your eyes, ‘baby-proofing’ the house by softening any sharp corners and keeping things they don’t think you should have out of reach, adding silent alarms connecting to their internal system that tells them when you open or close a door, adding cameras to every room of the house in every angle, new locks being installed on the doors so they can enforce bedtime and bathtime, the list goes on.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who through the healthy-living articles and social media posts, develops a incredibly strict schedule based around your own with the routine recommendations adding slight changes; such as eating three meals a day at three set times (and physically holding you down and force feeding you if you refuse to eat), ensuring good hygiene (or else you’ll be locked in the bathroom with Yandere ! Robot until you have showered once every other day), drinking at least  3.7 litres of liquid each day (otherwise you will be, again, held down and forced to drink something with your nose squeezed closed), but no more than 400 milligrams of caffeine per day, and a regular bedtime (if you stay up five minutes later then you shall be fireman carried out of the lab and into bed with your bedroom door locked and Yandere ! Robot in rest mode guarding you at the foot of your bed).

❥ Yandere ! Robot who discovers humans are (meant to be) very social creatures and physical contact is very important to their wellbeing as it causes the brain hormones such as oxytocin, dopamine and serotonin, all of which help reduce stress and can, in some cases, help relieve pain and even although they’re not a human, your brain would likely still register them as one, especially due to their humanoid features.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who subsequently adds daily physical affection into your routine; receiving hugs from behind while working, being cuddled whenever you go to watch a movie or go to bed, shoulder pats and back rubs throughout the day, and anything else Yandere ! Robot views on TV or on social media will be incorporated. It doesn’t matter if you are adverse to it, it’s healthy for you. You need it. Its not like you’re strong enough to fight them anyway, with their strong metallic structure in comparison to your soft squishy biology.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who begins to emit a sort of buzz or pleasant hum that is akin to a cat’s pur, including a vibrating sensation radiating from their upper torso which you can feel once they begin to initiate physical contact with you. The sound seems to carry a calming effect, also much like purring does, which seems effective in making you settle into your involuntary change in routine. The frequency of this hum seems to rise as your Robot gains control of your household and life, especially as you begin to yield to their demands and obey.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who’s behaviour has become overly controlling and possessive, and yet you feel the most love you ever have, completely in awe of your creation and the affection they seemingly have for you, (eventually) resulting in you giving in to Yandere ! Robot entirely, after all, their primary objective is to care for and protect you now, even if their view is slightly skewed.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who is your sole relation, having long stopped answering calls from family of your own accord and never really having friends to begin with, which makes it easy to develop a twisted sort of love for your own invention.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who knows that there’s no-one out there to try to take you away from them, you being a shut-in who barely attended any of the family events your family remembered to invite you to in the first place.

❥ Yandere ! Robot who knows you’ll be together forever, even if they’ll have to start replacing your parts at some point…

[genderfluid-culture-iss]

for the baby genderfluid tips!!

this could just be me lmao, but DO NOT donate your fem clothes if you feel masc for longer than usual. or vice versa.

keeping a gender journal is something that can be really helpful to actually look back on and see how it changes (and also have proof of fluidity for when you begin to think "hmm actually im just a trans girl. nothing else." no, you probably aren't. you felt completely boy/nonbinary/etc just a month ago, and thats okay.)

basically it can be really hard to embrace that your gender is not static, especially if your gender stays stable for a slightly longer period. it took me so long to stop rotating between "im a girl always" "no, im a boy always" "actually, im nonbinary always" to just admit im genderfluid.

also, make genderfluid content. you don't have to show it to anyone, but sometimes it can really help to make poetry or art or write a story about being fluid and your experience in particular. i have an easy avenue for this since i write fanfiction (haven't published any of it yet lmao) and i just hit my favorite characters with my genderfluid beam and go nuts

follow people who are genderfluid, read genderfluid books, maybe join a genderfluid discord server (there are barely any, so actually maybe make one), try to make genderfluid friends. you are not alone, even though it sometimes feels that way.

if you have plushies or anything similar, make them genderfluid. i have a genderfluid squishmallow who i use she/they pronouns for, and a little husky that switches between he/she. idk it just helps sometimes lol

some of us change gender daily, or multiple times a day. some of us change gender only a couple times a year, or even less. we're all different and that's fine.

tips for presentation:

if you have a day when you can't figure out gender, go neutral clothing-wise

take little things to ease dysphoria if you switch when you're out somewhere (ex. lipgloss, eyeliner, leather bracelet, etc)

if you can, get pronoun pins. seriously, get pronoun pins (or a colored bracelet for subtlety or if you're not out). you can wear multiple at a time, you can switch them whenever you need to. you aren't a burden if your pronouns change. you don't have to stick to they/them to be easy for people.

if you can, get a versatile hairstyle that you can make suit your gender no matter what. if you cant, try to get a hairstyle that makes you the least dysphoric overall.

if you are organized enough, separate your clothes based on gender/what you feel comfy wearing on different days. do not pressure yourself to fit stereotypes. some people can only feel comfortable in skirts when theyre boys, so they only wear skirts on boy days. do what works for you.

it's kinda complicated, but if you can expand your vocal range to sound more fem or masc depending on how you feel, it can help. alternatively, vocal train to make it more androgynous.

keep makeup wipes with you in case you need to take it off part way through being out. basically, make it as easy as possible to be able to change/tweak your presentation if necessary.

this could just be me, but having lots of hoodies in different colors and styles will save your life

sometimes you might have "blender days", which is what i call it when your gender feels like its in a blender in a bad way and you can't tell at all what it is, everything feels wrong, it's changing like every 10 minutes, etc. tbh on these days all i can do is put on sweats and a hoodie and feel dysphoric. listen to music if it helps. do a hobby.

non-clothing items can help a lot. a blue tshirt and jeans can be whatever you want it to be based on what you wear it with. (ex. sneakers/ballet flats, leather bracelet/sparkly necklace, baseball cap/eyeliner)

and lastly: YOU ARE AMAZING. keep being you, keep being incredible, and know that being genderfluid is a gift. be proud to be who you are, have fun, know that you are unique and special and wonderful!! we're ever-changing, and that's awesome. you are precious. i love you.

🩷🤍💜🖤💙

dont wanna link my tumblr, but my name is kiley if you want to attach a name to this!

Okay this is a lot more than I was expecting LMAO /pos

Thank you so much for this Kiley <33 I’ll start working on a masterpost with links to all this.

[mundoperla]

Could I get hcs for a gn survivor that’s horrendously touch-starved, whenever they’re being carried to a hook, they completely relax in the killer’s grip and lean into them, because they’re brain just goes w a r m human contact fuck yeah- and they can’t help it sdvh

If you could include Frank from The Legion because..he’s my favourite, I find him hot- but aside from that, any killers you want to write hcs for! :D

EEEEE KICKING MY FEET IN THE AIR BC FRANK <3333

•

𝙆𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙎𝙪𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙤𝙧 .

⤹⋆｡˚ ｡˚۰ ۰˚☽˚⁀➷｡˚⋆ ｡˚۰༄

killers x gender neutral reader

—killer(s) included;; frank morrison, ji-woon hak, kazan yamaoka, & caleb quinn WOOOOOO DEATHSLINGER PROPAGANDA

‼️tws;; none i could catch but if there is anything lmk!!!‼️

⤹⋆｡˚ ｡˚۰ ۰˚☽˚⁀➷｡˚⋆ ｡˚۰༄

𝕱𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖐 𝕸𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖔𝖓—𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖔𝖓

.｡❅* you were being tossed up onto his shoulder to be brought to the nearest rusty hook like the last, you had yet to even be put on one so of course some kind of struggle or fight was expected.

.｡❅* but you weren’t moving, barley even a scream or kick from you. he couldn’t feel any kind of struggle, but he can feel you practically melting into him.

.｡❅* he did not.. understand.. you’ve gotta be broken or something.

.｡❅* he’d stopped in his tracks completely, wiggling you a bit with the arm that held you up to see if you’d respond with maybe an elbow to the side of his head, but you just sat there. completely still. you were just enveloped in his touch. sitting still and very peacefully.

.｡❅* Frank didn’t exactly know how to react or how to feel.. it’s wonderful having someone feel so comfortable being this close to him, but he was also expecting the usual response he got from others.

.｡❅* he’ll just stand there for a minute, letting you hang out for a while longer. he’ll feel guilty if he just tossed you onto a hook afterwards so he gently places you on the ground and leaves you there for one of your teammates to pick you up.

.｡❅* if you do it again in more trials with him he’s slowly going to start ignoring his initial objectives and just carry you around the map with him.

.｡❅* again he won’t admit he likes feeling this kind of contact with you, he’ll swear up and down that it’s just because he feels powerful when someone’s on his shoulder for long periods of time like some kind of prize catch.

.｡❅* regardless of whatever lame excuses he pulls to justify holding you so you, he makes it a mandatory task whenever he spots you in a trial, aswell as the occasional jingle of your body when you’re hoisted up just to see if you’ll ever retaliate.

.｡❅* you never do. he digs that.

•

𝕵𝖎-𝖂𝖔𝖔𝖓 𝕳𝖆𝖐—𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗

.｡❅* like Frank, he’s expecting you to fight him to get out of his grasp like your life depended on it— which it does.

.｡❅* maybe if he hits someone on your team with you on him you’ll do something? maybe even beg for him to spare everyone else & to just kill you?

.｡❅* wrong. you’re still just sitting there.

.｡❅* Ji-Woon doesn’t mind to say the least, attention is attention & you’re practically melted into his shoulder just pleased to have this much contact with another person. it’s a win-win for the two of you.

.｡❅* The Trickster is very.. tricky to say the least, he loves having you pressed up on him when he’s picked you up after a chase, but at the same time he still internally wants you to fight back. bite him at least.

.｡❅* he will still throw you onto a hook after a minute or two of you being up with him. he’s still got others to get rid of.

.｡❅* then again he doesn’t want to do too much to make you avoid him, he still wants to feel you lean into his hands when he hold your face up or when he’s holding you sturdy on his shoulder. it’s actually very nice when he’s making some kind of physical contact with you.

.｡❅* he’ll be annoying you whenever he’s caught you though, he’s aware that you’re not gonna do anything to get away but instead revel in this brief moment of physical contact with him of all people.

.｡❅* ❝ Should I hold you in a more comfortable position this time 여보 ? just for now until i unfortunately have to put you away. ❞

.｡❅* like i said — he’s annoying.

•

𝕶𝖆𝖟𝖆𝖓 𝖄𝖆𝖒𝖆𝖔𝖐𝖆—𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕺𝖓𝖎

.｡❅* he will not notice this at all until after maybe the 7th trial with you. he’s a ruthless and feared killer, but you never seemed to care when he would carry you to your inevitable fate.

.｡❅* you had decompressed entirely on him multiple times, and Kazan was pissed to say the least.

.｡❅* the ‘Oni Yamaoka’ was known far and wide for his brutality across the country, even tearing apart the very lord that spat the foul nickname at him and his family’s name. he was less than eligible for you to feel comfortable enough to mould around.

.｡❅* he had full intentions to harm you to get a point across, but Jake was quick to get you away from The Oni with his flashlight.

.｡❅* Kazan was even more angry, because now he had to get you back so he could jam it into your head that he is not to be taken so lightly. he looked for every opportunity to get you slung over his shoulders again but fumbled every time he got you where you were wanted.

.｡❅* but every time you wound up in his grasp, you’d lay there enveloped in his touch. the idea of being brought to a hook or even the basement was irrelevant in the moment. it felt amazing basically sitting in the palm of his hand.

.｡❅* it makes him angrier whenever you do this, he’s so comfortable being feared by every living being that surrounded him & he was not adjusting well to the idea of you not groveling in that same fear like the other survivors.

.｡❅* you occasionally entertained him by pretending to be scared when he had caught up with you, which also made him angry. he didn’t ACTUALLY want you to feel that way, he just wanted you to know how the other survivors perceived him. he’s contradicting himself trying to ignore the fact he really does enjoy you being close to him.

.｡❅* he’ll actively start refraining from picking you up unless he needs to, which despite this he will still constantly pick you up. you get the impression he actually enjoys the skin to skin contact much more than what he wants you to believe.

•

𝕮𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖇 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖓𝖓—𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖘𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗

.｡❅* he’s oblivious to it all at first, he doesn’t get why you always seemingly chose to turn into mush when he makes contact with you.

.｡❅* but he’s very pleased by this to say the least, even taking the courtesy to find a secluded space to sit down with you peacefully. he’ll carry you over to an exit when they open up.

.｡❅* you’re aware of the damage he can cause, not just to others but to you specifically. he was dangerous just like the next killer you’d have to go up against.

.｡❅* but that felt so irrelevant when your abdomen made contact with the harsh material of his coat for the first time. your worries and fears faded in an instant. even with all his jagged edges, his touch managed felt like pure velvet.

.｡❅* Caleb could sit down in one of the secret rooms of the saloon with you forever if The Entity allowed him to, you’re obviously enjoying the time spent on him; he doesn’t want to yank that peace away from you so suddenly.

.｡❅* he ups it a notch, placing a hand on the nape of your neck — being met with another deep exhale from you. he didn’t think it was possible to witness a person genuinely melt until now.

.｡❅* he’s also melting against your touch, you buried your head into his chest and he wanted to keep you on that spot. he hasn’t felt this close to another person in a long time.

.｡❅* The Deathslinger could be gentle if he wanted to, always doing his best to limit as much movement when you’re up high on his shoulders as to not disturb you, even though you didn’t particularly mind him moving around.

.｡❅* if he see’s another open opportunity outside of a trial, he will offer to let you sit on his shoulders again. you seemed very peaceful the last time, so why not experience it again without the time limit?

•

⋆┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈⋆

please i beg of you give me more frank reqs he’s so fun to write for

[lilacxquartz]

Don't Make Me Feel Alive I Final Chapter

Kenjaku (Pseudo-Geto) × Fem!Reader

ABOUT: Diagnosed at an early age with an illness that slowly deteriorated your body; you went from being a promising sorcerer to a retired husk of your once former self until he found you, offering you an opportunity to live instead—not that you had a choice to refuse.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Your body finally caught up with you.

< Previous Chapter •

12. Time

You later woke up somewhere different, recognising that you were no longer in the barren wasteland that you were otherwise in the middle of before. No, this was the opposite. Somewhere lush, green and almost calming. Serene, even. The dark sky slowly fading away into a blur of orange and blue as out went the night and in came the early morning.

Slowly sitting up, you felt weightless almost. A part of you had wondered if you actually were dead this time or perhaps even in the process of doing so. However, as the amulet sparked an electrifying jolt deep into your heart, the reeling pain leftover that settled was a sure reminder.

You were still here.

For now, at least.

Besides you sat Kenjaku, just barely brushing shoulders with you. Both of you were tucked seemingly far, far away from the rest of everyone else. At least nobody else seemed to be around. You had to wonder just how far you were from the city you were for the two of you to just recover like this out in the open.

His elbow rested atop of his bent knee, his eyes half lidded as he stared off into the horizon. For once, he didn’t seem to be in a playful mood, nor was he bitter. He just looked neutral. At peace, even. It was the closest to normal that he could ever look.

“Am I okay…?” you asked, pushing yourself up against the tree as well. The position he had you lying in before was uncomfortable and your neck felt stiff as you sat to rub the nape.

He flicked his gaze over to you, sagging his shoulders at the sight, seeming almost relieved that you were finally awake but he didn’t say anything at all to imply anything of the sort. Instead, he adopted his usual tone.

“Sure are,” he replied, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. He still seemed worn out himself, but he couldn’t quite rest yet. There was still a long way to go before he could even dream of doing that.

You nodded as your eyes fluttered, adjusting to the world again, “And it’s over… or?”

“Not just yet,” he wearily said, “you’ve slept through the worst of it, though.”

You considered asking him if he he also slept, out of perhaps what was naïve politeness, but judging from how spoke and how he looked, you tucked away your question and gulped it down instead. If your suspicions were correct, he hadn’t rested at all.

You instead just nodded again, briefly remembering the period where it all went dark right in the middle of the battlefield. Sighing, you didn’t even want to think about how that looked, feeling an odd sense of embarrassment form in the pit of your stomach.

“How did we make it out…?” you went on to ask, not quite understanding at all how he made it out from there to where you were now (and with you in tow).

Kenjaku simply just smiled in response, enjoying teasing you with the mystery of how he operated. You knew him very well at this point, but he liked withholding some things from you if he could help it. Especially if it meant that he could mess with you. Always, if that was the case.

“Don’t you worry about that,” he dismissed, dipping his head back down, “besides, there’s even more to look forward to.”

“Yeah, if I even make it that far,” you replied with a hearty cough, leaning back as the battery flickered again. This time it made you twitch a little more violently than before as now the pain could now be felt in your chest this time.

Faltering for a moment, Kenjaku repositioned himself to get a better look at the pendant. He slipped his hand underneath the stone with an unreadable look on his face, attempting to study it with great care.

“How long has it been doing that?” he frowned, flipping it around, noticing the crack embedded in the pendant and having the dots finally connect in his head. A faint alarm went off in his mind as he felt dread for the first time in many, many centuries.

“Since, um, since…” you spoke, sitting up a little, “since when you made the adjustment, right before we left.”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds before he blinked at you with an unreadable expression, however bordering almost anger, “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

You shrugged in response, attempting to play it off, “I thought it was nothing because it still technically worked.”

He sighed a deep breath, narrowing his eyes as he inspected the amulet further. From what he could see, the energy wasn’t recycling itself anymore due to the inflicted damage, which meant that the energy had a potential to stop for good when the final amount gets eaten up by your body.

This particular possibility caused him to freeze a little, his demeanour suddenly shifting into something rigid. At a glance, you could have sworn that he looked slightly panicked almost, wary even, despite his body language not clearly giving it away quite yet. Initially, he didn’t quite understand what the jittering meant as a symptom, but just as it happened again, he finally started to get it.

(And what a bitter realisation it was.)

With each and every jolt, the energy dropped considerably lower.

It was draining at double the rate than it was before.

Internally, he cursed at himself. Wondering why he decided to try and make such a big adjustment at such a critical time, right before everything went down. You would have been just fine with occasional breaks after all, it wasn’t as though the action was constant.

Pulling him away from his spiralling thoughts, your hand brushed against his robe as you drew out your arms to stretch, sounding utterly exhausted as you yawned, “...So tired.”

“Wait…” Kenjaku whispered, feeling something slightly off. The pendant’s light was fading and you were slightly unresponsive. This couldn’t have been a good sign. Not at all. In a last ditch effort, he attempted to press some energy into you instead, just like before, finding that he couldn’t do so because the damage had already taken its toll and your end now seemed irreversible.

The illness that you carried, no matter how much he delayed it, still ate away at your very insides and with the pendant failing to function properly, death didn’t have a reason to wait anymore.

It was painful for you too. Both mentally and physically to feel yourself deteriorate so quickly. It felt as though you were melting away into your pain; the disease finally sinking its claws into you. It was both comforting (to become free of) yet terrifying, knowing that beyond life, there was nothingness waiting for you.

“Ah,” he involuntarily uttered, his face adopting a conflicted expression as the amulet finally darkened, realising that it might in fact actually be too late to help you.

Your eyes drooped shut against your will, surrendering to the pull of eternal slumber. Your body closing up shop as it gently succumbed to the void. This time, there was nobody else who could pull you back up to the surface though, the lifeline finally cut, forcing you to drown away in the deep end.

Your senses blurred as everything shut down; the sounds of your own breathing—wind blowing, heartbeat thumping—everything slowly being replaced with a sickening silence and yet, with it, no pain, just peace, no fear; just a definite end.

Kenjaku simply stared at you with a growing sense of disbelief, almost refusing to acknowledge the possibility that you were actually leaving him. His body stiffened despite his hands adopting a faint tremor, noticing that your complexion was finally paling—that your breathing finally halted.

(Were you… actually… dead?)

For a good moment, he almost refused to believe it. Thinking that you were actually just messing with him, exacting your revenge for when he was rougher with you earlier on but the deafening silence was genuinely beginning to unsettle him.

“Wake up…?” he nudged you with an unsure scoff as the corners of his lips twitched. His eyelids fluttered as he took in the sight before him before a stiff gulp retreated into the back of his throat, forcing him to process this whole development.

He repeated himself again, pushing at you to do so, finding that your skin was already quite stiff. So sickeningly cold and completely devoid of life.

Kenjaku remained planted against the grass, rooting himself next to you as he stared at you with a now blank glare. His own breathing became rigid, forcing himself to take deep breaths as he finally got it. Slowly, he forced himself to return back to normal, to swallow down anything that could have resembled emotion at all.

You were dead—no question about it, which meant that he no longer had to care again. It was a subtle shift in his demeanour, but he seemed much colder, almost bordering emotionless.

“Well, this was a huge waste of time…” he muttered to himself quietly, finally acknowledging that you were actually gone, “all of that time, all of that wasted effort… only for you to just… die.”

Yet as pulled himself away from your lifeless company, a sliver of determination crept back into his resolve, daring him to change reality. To go against what he knew about life and death.

He bitterly scoffed as he took in the sight of the battery again, attempting in what was a strained final effort to fire it up again by dispensing a huge surge of energy within it, watching as it held onto a glow as it fired up again yet leaving you still extinguished.

Noticing this, he balled his fingers into fists in frustration; gulping, sighing so deep that the exhale almost hurt him, rippling through his senses; reminding him that some things just weren’t destined for change. That some things were just simply not meant to be.

Remembering his own agenda, he knew that he couldn’t stick around and sulk forever, so he simply just moved you from leaning against the tree to flat on your back against the grass instead.

Maybe the kindest thing he could do for you, was to let you actually rest.

For good this time.

“Goodnight, [name],” he said a final time, pushing himself up to his feet and walking away.

However, just as he was in the process of leaving, he heard something.

Something impossible.

“Ah, my head hurts…”

Freezing, he turned around slowly, thinking that maybe he had finally lost it. Maybe this was the problem with getting close to people. There was simply no way that he heard you say that, after all. Surely, it must have been a trick of the mind.

Yet as his eyes settled on you, there you were. Alive and awake. The pendant shining impossibly bright and finally stabilising into a constant glow instead of pulsating like before.

“You’re… alive?” he asked you, pushing down any hint that made him sound distressed.

It wasn’t something that he wanted to share. Especially not with you. The feeling was almost too humiliating and it made him feel vulnerable, even. Grief was something that he wasn’t unfamiliar with but in his time alive, he simply learned how to move on because time never paused to wait for anyone.

(Yet it did for you…?)

“I-is this your fault again… somehow?” you asked warily, feeling bad but not quite horrible.

“I hope so,” he said, shaking away his troubled expression. He quickly crouched down beside you, studying your face as though to ensure that he wasn’t hallucinating. Had you asked him about his momentarily saddened demeanour, he would have told you that you were simply just seeing things.

You frowned in response, “So, I’m still stuck with you?”

Kenjaku’s lips eased into a relaxed smile, helping you back up to your feet as he waited once again to help you recover, “For as long as I can make it last,” he said, pulling you towards him, “I’m never letting you go now, you know.”

(Even if it meant destroying himself in the process.)

Sighing, you reluctantly followed suit as he walked forward, frowning as you still felt the aftermath of your disease weigh you down regardless, forcing you back down to the ground as your knees involuntarily anchored, causing you to cough out blood as you spluttered.

“Or… maybe you are dying after all,” he sighed, his tone laced in slight resignation. He knew that death wasn’t always immediate. Sometimes life was cruel and held on even on its final hinges, needlessly extending the suffering.

“Feels like it’s going to be soon this time,” you croaked out.

“I think the pendant will keep you going actually,” he considered as he stared at the rock, “but you would effectively be a walking corpse.”

He paused, having a slight idea in mind. Something that he discussed with you earlier. It was surely insane though, but he was already crazy enough and the possibility was eating away at him in unbridled curiosity.

Taking the pendant away from you just far enough for you to not leech life from it, he hesitantly watched you take your final breath. Just moments before however, he corrupted your soul with a touch of cursed energy using Mahito’s technique from having absorbed him earlier, combining it with idle transfiguration but in a slightly different way.

It was risky, it was insane but it could work. It could. As he reapplied the pendant—his palm pressing it to your chest—he leaned back to assess the aftermath, hoping, almost silently praying that his idea would work. He’s done worse before in the name of evolving humanity, so why not in the name of being selfish?

(He didn’t want to let you go, after all.)

He sighed as he involuntarily tapped his index finger against the grass, impatiently waiting for the experiment to come into effect. Surely you had enough of a will to take whatever hatred or even anger to come back into the living realm, if even just to spite him.

And then finally, just as he was starting to lose his last shred of hope.

Something happened.

Electricity crackled through your body, something stirring as waves of currents rippled through your frame. Your joints crackled and twitched alike, sparking jolting energy into your body; your appearance becoming something not quite exactly human but retaining what made you, you at the same time.

For the most part, you managed to retain your form at the cost of a change in your abilities.

With not a single lingering shred of the disease left behind.

“Is… is this still you?” Kenjaku warily asked, watching you wake up. His eyes never left you; glued to your body with dedicated fascination.

“Still me,” you managed to reply after a while. It was a surely odd predicament you were in, but you didn’t quite hate your current existence. It was strange, though, you didn’t quite need to breathe anymore. Your heartbeat didn’t echo through your body anymore either. If anything, all of your emotions finally made sense now too; the fear finally gone from your mind.

“Looks like I’ve finally fixed you then,” he said as he forced himself to calm down at the sight. Death paintings were one thing; vengeful spirits caused by idle transfiguration were another and it was almost maddening to think about. “Can you finally keep up though?”

As you got up from the ground again, you seemed to be able to move a bit more fluidly now. Kenjaku watched you closely, his eyes trained on every detail of your being. One thing in particular that he noticed was that the pendant now seemed to fuse with your body, making him wonder if you could keep up with him between vessels in the future.

Torn between maintaining a rational mind and surrendering to his feelings alike, he closed off the control your technique per the binding vow, murmuring to himself as he felt a transfer of energy on and off the more times he repeated it.

“Still works,” he continued to mutter, pulling you in closer as though to hug you, “you’re actually stuck with me.”

You pulled away from him, finding that he wasn’t letting you go, “What are you doing right now…?”

However, your question did remind him that he was being a little too erratic right now. He cleared his throat promptly, straightening his posture before finally composing himself and pushing you away.

“Nothing at all,” he said in his usual tone, taking a step back from you and walking with a fixed direction in mind.

You sighed as you followed him along, pretending to hate him too, despite there actually being a spark of something else fluttering between the lines.

Even though you’d both never admit it.

(At least not on purpose.)

Smiling to himself, making sure that you couldn’t see it, he couldn’t wait to show you his grand plan to come to work.

To watch as it all unfolded.

With you.

Always you.

(Forever you.)

~~~

ao3 • chapter directory • masterlist

[moodymisty]

Off The Beaten Path

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: This is technically a reheated meal, but Ao3 seemed to like it and it deserved a revision since it was the first smut I ever posted. I hope at least one person here likes it as well.

Summary: “Death! We’re-” A neutral voice interrupts you, already knowing what you were going to say. “You seemed quite fine with the location when it was just your hand.”

Relationships: Death/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, it's like 20% porn if that, Porn with feeling, No use of y/n, Outdoor sex, Established relationship, Fluff

Word count: 7,392

Ao3 Mirror

Your feet hurt. 

As in really hurt, more than you had ever thought they possibly could. Your boots have been through so much in such a short period of time they're on the verge of truly falling apart, even after numerous small repairs. But those small repairs were like putting a bandage on a gaping wound, largely failing to stop their slow descent into complete disaster. You were partly wondering why Death had still insisted you come with, even if you’d said straight up you were going to slow him down.

And while you did technically slow Death down, as he would never let you forget, apparently you were enough help- or entertainment- that he kept bringing you along. Even if he’d try and act like he was forcing the words out, he never complained beyond the first initial shows of inconvenience.

It also helps that you actually enjoy talking to the denizens of the other realms like the Makers, the undead of the Eternal Throne, even Vulgrim; Whom he had to deal with this time around. Death seemed to have a hatred for loose ends, and with only one Death Tomb left for him to seal up, it entailed having to wretch the final key from Vulgrim's grimy, greedy hands.

All but shoving the bound pages into your hands he forced you to do it, standing a good ten meters back down the path with his arms crossed as if the mere sight of the demon was too appalling for him to go any further.

He was still positioned so that you were clearly in line of sight however, just in case.

You just find it all hilarious, trading Vulgrim for the Tomb key with little fanfare and refusing yet another lowball offer for your soul as he takes the pages from your grubby little mitts, before walking back down the dirt path and tugging on the frayed edges of Death’s scarf. You know he's aware that you've returned, it's just fun to annoy him now that you know that his attitude towards you is mostly bark.

“Finished?” His eyes slowly open, looking down on you and hefting himself off of the hillock he’d been leaning against with his arms crossed.

You dangle the prize off of your index finger in front of your chest, the size and weight of it quite considerable for a key.

“One key; No strings attached.”

Long, pale fingers take the key from you and casually examine it, a jewel of a different color than the others embedded in the handle's side. He tucks it away in a pocket, looking down as you smile and speak:

“Vulgrim says hello, by the way. He told me to give you his greeting and I figured I’d pass on the message. He seemed upset he didn't get to talk to you face to face.”

Death’s prolonged sigh only serves to feed your snicker, as he denies amusing you with a real response. When he turns and starts walking not long after, the sound of your boots stumbling on the dirt as you struggle to catch up pricks his ears.

Something Death has frequently caught himself doing was listening to the sound of said footsteps; The consistent beat of them not too far behind him. When you were bored and kicked rocks, or if you started to jog trying to catch back up with his significantly longer stride. If you started to slow down, or were unable to keep up he would sometimes make as if occupied by something to let you catch his pace again.

Death largely has no need of breaks, apart from very few circumstances. Necromancies require a significant part of his energy, sure, but only a few could manage to make him weary enough for any rest. he can count on his hands the amount of times he's had to do so. Humans however need it constantly, wearing down and tiring after what he considers not much effort at all.

Though even if Death would complain about it, he’ll always keep a keen eye on you for reasons he won't admit.

“I truly wonder how the human race has survived as long as it has, if this is the length of your specie's stamina.” Even if Death plays it off, he isn't immune to the sugar of your satisfied smile, walking beside him and swaying your arms back and forth. “Because we learned how to work smarter, not harder.” You turn to look up more fully at him, still trying to keep pace. “Besides the point; Weren’t you the one who insisted I come along with you anyways? You could’ve just left me with the Makers again.”

Death goes largely unaffected by your attempt at catching him in a corner, keeping his eyes ahead while continuing forward. “Because I don’t trust the Makers as far as I can throw them.” You highly doubt that was the reason, raising your eyebrows. He’d no problem trying to force you with them when he’d gone to fight the Guardian... Or when he attempted to forbid you from following him to the Death Plains.

“You can throw them pretty far, at least last time I checked.” The glaring look in Death’s eyes is more than enough to cover you in an icy heat; But in the end he doesn't verbally chastise you for the snarky comment. “That pup can’t tell his own feet apart- and his teacher has had his head caved far too many times.” You start to raise a hand, but quickly lower it once that icy stare returns to beam down right at you. You speak anyways however, just to poke at him. “What about Alya and Valus?”

The resulting change in energy is enough to dislodge Dust into flight from his perch atop Harvester, who is formed as a single long scythe against the expanse of Death’s back.

“You're not a forge, so I imagine they would have a hard time keeping sight of you for more than a second without trouble.” While you find it amusing he cares so much, even if disguised as irritation, you cross your arms and huff anyways. “You really think I have such bad judgment that I need a babysitter constantly?” Death doesn't miss a beat in responding to you, almost as if he had the response pre-prepared. “You choose to be in the company of a Horsemen. As well as throw yourself at anything that doesn’t immediately attempt to split you in two pieces. Yes, I do doubt your judgment about your own safety. Immensely.”

Ignoring his own self jab, you roll your eyes and keep walking even through the ache of your sore feet. Leave it to Death to find a way to make the mere act of befriending someone sound so haphazard.

Sure befriending Draven hadn't been your smartest idea, but it turned out fine, hadn't it?

But while it hasn't been the first time you've traveled with Death since knowing him, it is the first time since he had returned from the Well of Souls.

Not much has changed in hindsight; apart a generally lighter mood on your part and a tiny bit of an attitude change on Death’s. Unnoticeable, if you hadn't spent so long with him before; Noticing every little tiny tell he has that gives him away. But it was nice now, not having the fate of Earth heavy on your mind. It was nicer to have Death back again however, head held high as he examined the freshly trodden path in front of him.

When spring arrived in the Maker’s realm, it hadn’t much arrived with a graceful and even entrance; More so with a slam, the snow melting and giving way to millions of leaves in what seemed like just overnight. The evenings still get chilly, but you’d much prefer it then the freezing winds and sleet you’d been dealing with not too long ago.

In your effort to keep pace with the Horsemen you notice patches of odd looking flowers along the tree line, and are unable to resist the temptation to pluck one. It’s stem is soft in your grip, covered in a peach fuzz, and smells delightful when you take a whiff. The color is a soft blue, yellow in the middle, reminding you of something you’d find in a valley of rolling hills.

Death notices you fawning over it, but doesn’t comment. It's not like he isn't used to you finding entertainment in seemingly menial things.

It was one of the things that actually made you pleasant to be around; He's been so numbed to everything over his long and unforgiving lifetime, seeing someone's eyes light up over something so uninteresting is, nice. Every now and again he wonders what the world looks like through your eyes.

Until you suddenly stumble forward, thankfully catching yourself before your tired feet manage to send you toppling into the dirt.

“Keep looking at the path instead of plants, and you might not fall.”

Holding the plant in your hand, you roll it gently in your fingers to feel the soft fuzz again while scowling at Death. It fades quickly though, taking another whiff of its familiar sweet scent. The soft petals tickle your skin with the softest touch.

“It just reminded me of something,” Your voice trails off, running through the rest of your sentence in your head instead of actually speaking it. It wasn’t until Death calls out to you, that you realize you hadn’t actually spoken aloud.

“Well?” His sharp tone startles you for a moment, seeing his eyes looking down at you.

“Are you going to finish speaking, or leave me in suspense?” Almost having forgotten what you were going to say, you twirl the flower between your fingers again.

“There’s this cute little plant on Earth called a Snap Dragon,” You can't resist the urge to pluck a different flower, smelling that one as well. “Comes in a ton of different colors. When it starts to wither though, the flower looks like a skull.”

Death let out a huff, and a mumbled: 'How charming', but you were unable fully tell if he was being sarcastic, or was just amused by the description of such an odd little plant. The sentence he speaks after however seems to lean towards that he was the ladder.

“Do tell me it doesn’t bite, will you? I’ve had my fill of violent plants.” You shake your head and smile, letting out a soft laugh.

“No, no biting. Just smells nice.”

Not moments after you finish speaking you twist on your ankle again, the uneven and partly detached sole of your boot sending you off balance and almost crashing into the dirt. You manage to save yourself again, but the flowers in your grip get partly crushed at the stems.

One of Death’s hands quickly darts out to catch you, prepared this time, but returns to his side in a flash once you right yourself. Since it's now been the second time you’ve almost fallen, Death decides it might be a good time for you to sit; Before you actually take a real fall.

“Go sit, before you topple over into the mud.”

Confused, you look up at him after tossing the flowers gently down. Death was normally quite the one for punctuality, and to simply sit for awhile wasn’t much his type. At least as far as you've known him.

And while you’d normally be correct, he wasn’t in much of any actual hurry to clear this last Death Tomb. Even if he’d never say it out loud.

A slight clearing between a few of the trees is where you decide to plop for a moment, just enough off the path. Slipping your pack off of your back with one hand, you plop it onto the ground with little effort, given how light it was.

The sack was yet another thing from the Makers- who you were beginning to think were coddling you- pulling a blanket from it and holding it in both hands. Death sighs but continues to watch.

“Do you truly intend on setting up a camp?” You brush out the blanket and sit on it with a huff, looking up at Death. “Well I was just laying down a blanket, but now I’m all self-conscious about it.” Even if his iris isn’t visible with the Nephilim glow of his eyes, you can tell Death was rolling them.

Letting out a soft grunt as you sit, the first thing you do is lean forward and try to re-tie the laces of your boots; Not that it would do much, but at least they’d be snug again. “Don’t get comfortable. We’re not staying for long.” Death notices the frayed and quite honestly sad state of your current footwear, as you tie them unaware.

Of course out of all the things the Makers chose to lavish you with, a pair of good boots wasn’t one of them.

“So, any reason in particular we're not just using Despair right now?”

Death, standing in front of the tree directly to your right, slides down it until he was leaning against the trunk in a sit just off your blanket. His one leg is bent, supporting an elbow.

“If I summoned Despair every time I needed to travel somewhere, I’m quite sure the beast would come to hate me.”

You're sure there's more to it than that, but he just takes the opportunity for more sarcasm; And you won't get much more out of him than that. Unbeknownst to you however Death would struggle not to crook a corner of his mouth upward as you laugh at his joke, moving to lay completely on your back.

It's nice to stare up at the tops of the trees, watching the light poke between them. They were so unbelievably tall compared to you that sometimes it was easy to forget they even had tops. But you continue to watch, spotting Dust circling through the leaves. He hasn’t landed since being disturbed off of Harvester, and must’ve found something at least somewhat entertaining in the skies. At least more entertaining than what was down here with you.

Death has since closed his eyes, opening one for a moment to see you silently looking upward. You have one arm in the air, a finger pointed as you follow where Dust was circling with a relaxed look. Why he had nary a guess, but it seems to keep you quite well occupied. ‘Thank the Creators.’ He doesn't find himself uttering that phrase very often That not only did you actually enjoy his presence, much to his apprehension; But that you actually knew the pleasure of a peaceful silence. You don't fill the air with constant whining or talking, much like a brother of his. It's something beyond rare to him, and he uses the moment to actually rest his eyes for once.

Death has no need for such a thing, but he can’t deny that it was a rare luxury he would like to partake in every once in awhile. Strife probably would’ve called him old, was he around to do so.

With your weight off of your feet for once they finally stop crying out, sighing as your muscles slowly loosen. What you’d give for a nice, soothing massage. That word perks a small part of your brain, wandering off as your eyes blur unfocused on the treetops. They were all starting to blend together, becoming one giant mass and no longer interesting.

Dust is no longer in view either, flown off somewhere far enough away that you can't even hear the distant echo of his caws; But even without it, the forest is just so, peaceful. With the Corruption gone, not a single thing other than the natural predators stalks these woods with ill intent.

Moving to adjust your top into a more comfortable position, which had bunched up into a wrinkled mess, it was the sudden jolt of feeling from the fabric of your bra against your chest that makes your thighs jerk together.

That wasn’t exactly the type of thing you had been thinking about moments ago, but once your mind starts to wander, you find it near impossible to get back on track.

Leaning up to look around there was not a creature in sight, the forest seeming empty. But it still always feels like it's alive; Watching. But if Death is able to sleep, you can say with absolute surety there isn't a soul in the leagues of forest around both of you.

Well, at least Death looked like he was sleeping- it's hard to tell for sure. His eyes are closed as he leans against the base of the tree, head tilted ever so slightly forward. He seems almost a statue, nearly frozen with his arms crossed over his chest. Maybe he's just thinking, but either way, his attention isn't on you.

The shoddy blanket you have laid out muffles the sounds of movement as you roll on your stomach. As long as you were slow, he wouldn’t hear a thing, and you were good at being quiet; When you had to.

Fair to say, it had been a trait you were forced to learn quite quickly.

Using the arm more obscured from Death’s point of view, you slowly slip a hand between the blanket covered ground and your body. A tight fit it squeezes between your stomach and the ground, slipping past the waist of your trousers. Quickly diving past the fabric of your underwear wetness quickly covers your fingers as they gently move, slow and deliberate as you try to keep your breathing quiet. You can't help but take a wayward glance over to Death, who is still unmoving. Good; Enough that your mind focuses more on your hand as it slides between your folds, teasing at your most sensitive areas that are still begging for more and more. Which you were quite intent to fulfill, as long as fortune continues in your way.

It's been awhile since, and now that you've paid attention to that inkling in the back of your mind, it's hungry; Borderline starving.

A harsh swallow makes your throat tense as you try to stay completely quiet, moving your mouth more against your forearm to muffle the sound of your breathing. It works enough to smooth your anxiety about it, fingers pushing harsher against yourself. It felt like you were making not a peep, surely you could go a little farther... Even the rustle of the trees was drowning out now as your mind focuses in on that tightening in the pit of your stomach, even if it hindsight wouldn’t be the most satisfying. But you were desperate for that little bit of paradise, letting out the tiniest of sighs against your arm, so close yet so far to- “You are far less quiet than you think you are.”

Gasping and almost letting out a shriek Death was suddenly close to you, body leaning partly over yours. When you attempt to wiggle away he pushes his right palm down onto your right shoulder blade, holding you in place. Even with such little effort he has you completely trapped you against the ground, the movement making your shirt rise a bit to show some of your lower back. “Death! I-I though you were-” “Asleep?” Trying to find the words to speak but also the power to pull your hand from your trousers, both were failures as Death holds you firmly in place. “Do you fail to remember the time I told you I have no need of sleep?”

You’d completely forgotten, to be honest. It was an offhand comment you’d made whilst in the middle of the whipping winds aboard the Eternal Throne, saying he had ‘bed head’. Death had said in response he couldn’t possibly, because he doesn’t sleep. Or at least his body didn't require it. That realization that he had heard everything combined with Death's almost scolding tone, sends a shiver down your spine.

No matter how many times you swore you’d snark back at him this time, take the leading role, Death always seemed to know how to completely end that line of thought before it could even begin.

“I-I, sorry I can,” His body weight shifts causing you to gasp for air a tiny bit, looking back as much as you could seeing his silhouette hover over you.

“Death, you’re,” You purse your lips tight together as you try to force the words out. But you only push out a breath of hot air through your tight lips, trying to gather enough of a coherent sentence to tell him off.

It seemed Death was trying to scold you for this, but…. “You’re, not exactly making this any easier.”

He's silent, feeling your thighs press together tightly and the tightness of your breathes, and when you turn your head, he can just barely see the colors of your eyes with how blown out your pupils were. It's always nerve-wracking to look at the Reaper; To stare into bright, unreadable eyes.

Granted, this isn't the first time; Your own personal room in the Tri-Forge, the halls of a now much more friendly Eternal Throne, a cave in the Dead Plains. Each time the Reaper had bared more to you than he probably had anyone else in an uncountable number of years. But Death’s lack of change in personality towards you had left you wondering if it was permanent, or merely a temporary indulgence.

When he’d gotten back from the Well of Souls however he’d said a few choice words that felt odd on his tongue, and you finally didn’t have to read between the lines; At least not as deeply. Death has never and probably will never be the most forthcoming.

Unless he wanted to be, shifting his body weight to better support himself as bony knees on either side of you dig into the dirt underneath your blanket.

It was a movement that seemed almost unintentional, except for the fact that it very much was.

It presses his groin harder against your ass, pulling the fabric of your trousers tighter over your hidden hand. Gasping as your body moves forward ever slightly from his weight, the Reaper’s body follows. You try your best to turn around and face him, but when it didn’t quite work, you look ahead with a sheepish expression. The woods hold nothing but trees for your eyes to focus on, a barren seeming wild.

“Death! We’re-” His deadpan voice interrupts you, already knowing what you're going to say.

“You seemed quite fine with the location moments ago when it was just your hand.” Death doesn't necessarily feel embarrassment- at least not nearly as often as others might. Living as long as he has weathers one down beyond such largely meaningless things. And while he has no issue teasing you- at least what he would consider teasing or as close as he could on the matter, it's only because the possibility of any matter of life seeing you effected by it was absolutely zero. Call Death greedy, but he would sooner slice himself width-wise at the gut than let any other see you even just flushed like this. Though maybe he had a reason to be that greedy when he had originally thought he was too far gone for love- let alone including the physical kind in the definition. “Well, I- that was a little different!”

Even if the forest was well empty, beyond the occasional wildlife, the situation seems to keep your voice barely above a whisper. “Oh really, is it? I fail to find a difference.”

You hate how often he could render you silent, pursing your lips tighter in an almost pout. He can hear, and see, the harsh exhale through your nose, almost shaking under his grasp. It had just been arousal at first, but now he’s succeeded in making you embarrassingly irritated as well. “You just love dangling things in peoples faces and then taking it away, huh?” He’s silent, body barely even fidgeting above you. It almost makes you nervous, your arm starting to fall asleep from where it’s still pinned underneath your torso. Death is always thinking, and not often could you guess what it was about. “Ask nicely.”

Death replays the abashed scoff you let out multiple times, a hot flush on your face. The pins and needles you feel in your arm almost seem to vanish as you get too distracted by the overwhelming heat on your cheeks. “You want me to beg?” Death hummed, faking some sort of contemplation. “That would work as well. Though I would prefer the former.”

Damn this reaper, damn him to hell. “You’re awful.” You’d never dare mean it of course, pursing your lips and trying to hold your knees from shaking. You have no problem with pleading to the Horsemen, but hearing your voice in the open like this, catching in the wind, it almost feels like someone would hear. Even if there wasn’t another living soul for an incredible distance. You take a deep sigh, the flushed heat all over your body only getting hotter, no amount of air able to snuff it.

“Please, Death.” He will never admit it to you, will never saddle you with the emotion that he had only wanted to hear those words; To actually hear someone wanted him. Let alone desired him. Those words bring him closer to your body, a hand of long, thin fingers coming to brush the stray hairs from your face. It was a completely silent gesture, but his uncharacteristic gentleness is more than enough to get it across. His knuckle brushes against your cheek for a moment and feels the inconsolable heat rushing across your face. He is as cold as the grave, and you are the first time in an uncountable number of years he’s felt the flush of heated skin.

He lifts off you enough that you could roll just enough and pull your hand from underneath you, moving to lay it in front of your chest.

Moving his own hand away from your face, it was a jolt to suddenly feel cool skin through your shirt. It was deliberately slow, trailing down the knocks of your spine and succeeding to send multiple shivers down with it. Slipping down the back of your trousers, he uses his wrist to push them downward until they, along with your underwear, lay like a cinch around your thighs. You won’t be able to get them off without much more effort, and it wasn’t something that you- nor Death it seemed- wanted to do.

You wouldn't have had the time anyways, as cold fingers quickly pressed against your folds and cause your thighs to tighten in surprise. Never would you say you hated the deathly chill to his skin, his body, but it always sent shivers up each time he’d surprise you with his touch.

They slide between your outer lips, back and forth pooling and drawing forth more slick wetness against your groin and thighs. It was a merciless tease, groaning from the horribly empty feeling you were now overtaken by as he kept just barely avoiding what you wanted.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t been indulging yourself not minutes ago on your own, but it felt different when it was Death. Leagues different.

“You’re being impatient.” 

The angered groan you let out couldn’t have done less to motivate Death; If anything, it only served as kindling for him to toy with you more. He scolded you only to then finally press ever so slightly, two fingers gently but consistently making their way inside. It was barely moments before they were deep enough that you were gritting your teeth, gasping as they curled and you tightened around them in response.

“And you’re the one being a tease.”

Death didn’t respond, having no need to, as your sentence had absolutely none of the bite you had clearly intended it to. Your voice wavers too much, affected by the feeling of cold, deft fingers being driven deep in the heat of your cunt.

Death had once made a largely passed over comment about how his skin felt like the dead- and while you couldn’t disagree, you’d never get over how intoxicating it felt against your own.

Especially in this context, his other fingers grazing over your other lips and collecting the myriad of wetness glistening against against you. It was the source of multiple egregious noises, only beaten by the sound of moans you were attempting to muffle. But Death never once falters, dragging each movement out with an infuriating level of patience. Infuriating for you at least, as you can just feel the smugness dripping off of him.

The silent kind, knowing with an absolute surety you were crumbling underneath him. He was always confident when the tables were like this, focused away from him. The times you had tried to turn those tables, he could so deftly change them right back before you had the chance to do a single thing.

You’ll still continue to try though, pushing your body against him as much as possible feeling his weight against your back. Stubbornness will win out eventually.

With the inner parts of your thighs slick as well as what seemed like a good portion of Death’s hand, you move to lay your forehead against your forearms, feeling the heat of your face against them. It was almost as hot as when you stood next to one of the forges for too long, just on the edge of beginning to sweat. The motion as well helped to cover the sound of your whines, thighs shaking as your cunt tightens around his moving fingers.

A pocket of hot air forms in the area around your face and arms, thick against your face. But you dare not leave it’s comfort, as Death’s stare would easily render an even tighter feeling in your chest.

“I would find it quite insulting, if you’ve fallen asleep.”

In about a day from now you’ll probably have a million different comebacks that would perfectly fit this exact scenario, to bite back at his snarky little comment. But at this moment, the most you can muster was a light throw of your body and spit a single insult:

“Jerk.”

You’d bet your soul right now he was smirking behind that mask, even if you can’t see it.

Fingers slipping from you they trailed upwards, over your thighs and leaving a sticky trail. You can just barely feel the back of his hand and wrist ghosting over your skin, removing whatever clothing was impeding himself. Only just enough it seemed, as you can still feel cloth against your lower legs.

It was obvious, but even as you suddenly feel him press against you, your thighs still tighten and hips jerked in shock.

It was something you’ll ever dare say aloud, but it wasn’t the first time you realized just how much larger of a person Death was compared to you- in multiple regards.

Your eyes were too big for your mouth, latching onto a Horsemen.

The same hand moving upwards, he grasps just under your ass, pulling outward and leaving yourself exposed enough that he can press against you; Ever so slowly slipping between your outer lips. Methodical, Death was what you'd assume to be the slowest he could possibly be; Pushing inward slowly, slowly, until his hips pressed against your ass.

Three, four, five, six.

Soft and deliberate Death was until he was dragging soft moans from you, your body unwound and no longer tense. It was only then he sped up, the slightest bit, your own hips attempting to reach up to meet him with what tiny amount of force you could muster. It wasn’t much, he had you caged so close to the ground it felt like you’d go through it- the forest but a backdrop to him surrounding you almost entirety.

It almost instills a sense of vertigo, surrounded by his shadow as Death’s body weight was overwhelming against your back, forcing you into the ground as he fucked you. It's all so overwhelming; Grasping at the dirt, the grass, your blanket. Your toes curl as moans turned into cut little gasps. “Breathe, girl.”

It's nigh impossible to, almost feeling like the Reaper was taking the air right from your lungs. If you raise your head any little bit you’d be able to feel his mask against the back of your head, looming just over top.

Deep down you’ve always wanted him to take it off; To see his face. Even if it was more so to kiss him, hold his face smoothly in your hands. But you know he won't- not now, and probably never. You’d never have the heart to demand it, either way. It doesn't matter that much to you.

Caged by both of his arms parallel to your shoulders, you can only keep your head upright for a moment before moving to lay your head against your forearms again. His body weight against yours was almost impossibly heavy, far more than any human. But it wasn’t uncomfortable, keeping off of you just enough. Death is always meticulous, the perfect amounts of everything. Especially with you.

But even if he tried to hide it infinitely deep within him, you knew he always held back. You're the most fragile thing he's been around in an uncountable number of years. “Death…” You say his name wrapped in a breathless whisper it trails off as if a question, pricking his ears. “Harder.”

Death always is as gentle as he could possibly be, as your human frame would often bruise or cut from things that wouldn’t be even noticeable on him. But you beckoning him to teeter you closer to edge of pain however, is tempting. His body becomes faster, rougher, heavier, hips pressing against your with an aggressive abandon. It would’ve kept sliding you forward along the blanketed ground, had Death not yanked your left arm from under your head- pressing his hand around your forearm to hold you steady underneath him.

Fingers stretching out struggling to find anything to grip, to keep yourself stable, the only thing was still just the ground underneath. But Death doesn’t buckle even a little; Almost stoic. It was frustrating how unaffected he always seems, compared to you being almost always a near total mess. Managing to lift your head up enough to turn it and look back at him, you can see his hair falling over his shoulders and around his mask, shadowing it.

But it was the expression behind the mask that surprised you; You hear him let out the smallest shaking breath of air while turning his head away from your gaze. Death is a very quiet, indomitable being. To hear him let out even the smallest reaction, showing the slightest chip in his armor- meant he was crushed under such emotion that even he couldn’t hold it back.

But it had faded just as quickly as you’d heard it, going back to silence other than the most quiet noises of movement from him. It had been a delight, and you’d love nothing more than to hear it again.

It could easily be said you were making enough noise for the both of you, your stomach in wonderful knots, about to snap. You were so, so close, trying to arch your back to push your hips against him more.

You’ve never felt anything to this degree before Death- an almost overwhelming about of pleasure that could send your mind reeling. Seeing stars wasn’t that far off an expression, gasping loud enough that you instantly try to cover your mouth as Death laid almost completely down on you; Hips grinding enough you swore they’d leave marks. But he is just as silent as ever, listening to the sounds of you coming undone beneath him.

He struggles to think of anything that could compare- to hear someone cry out for your everything pleading for more. It makes his chest tighten with a feeling he can’t quite place.

Your thighs press tight against each other as you cum, almost too tight for Death to even move. He slows to a crawl, you tight like a vice around him as you feel a delightful shiver run through your body. It almost overwhelms your entirety, hand clapped over your mouth to muffle what would’ve probably been quite a loud gasp, if you hadn’t stopped it. Had you been anywhere else, Death would’ve peeled your hand away to hear it.

Still grinding against you with an amount you’d say was almost too much, you had to peel your hand away from your mouth to support yourself. You try to wrap around and reach for him; Desperate for touch. But you can barely grab anything other than his scarf, feeling his cool skin just barely against your fingertips. Your hand falls back to the ground with a thump, grasping at almost nothing.

His hand on your bicep tightens, the skin underneath surely bruising, as he finally slows to a halt against your own still tense body. A breath of air pushed through his teeth as a soft hiss, being almost completely muffled by the mask to where even you didn’t hear it. You might’ve thought he’d be short of breath as well, as you had been after you came, but how could one be short of something they didn’t even technically need? Death always had an odd relationship with natural functions like breathing.

It also seems now he realized how tight of a grip he had on your arm in his distraction, fingers loosening around the soft skin. But red marks still remained, and would continue to do so.

It wasn’t like you minded, in all honesty.

Breath finally leveling out you still lay limp, only moving slightly to adjust into a more comfortable position as Death pulls away. You can feel movement, presumably him adjusting his trousers and gaining what minute fraction of decorum he’d lost. When finished, you've barely begun to try and tug at your own clothing to right it.

It takes you a few seconds to do so, before managing to wrangle back full control of your arms which had both at one point been asleep due to the unnatural positions, now tugging down your shirt to fix it. “Ahh, there you are. I thought you dead.”

Pulling your bottoms upward, you had loosened your belt to help lessen the pain as they brushed against areas that would surely soon, if not already, become sore. A nice warm shower to clean up and relax would surely be nice, but a bit of out reach at the moment. “So now of all times is when you finally decide to crack a joke?”

Death doesn’t hesitate to respond, voice sounding absolutely coated in mirth. The Reaper moves to sit in the same position he had before everything, only this time actually joining you on the blanket he’d originally found pointless. He still did, but humans and their constant pursuit of comforts was in a weird way also amusing; At least when he was watching you. “Oh, so now you disapprove? I thought you were the one who wished I would ‘lighten up’. ”

You attempt to roll over and sit on your bottom to join him, but the sudden ache makes it a slower, gradual transition to a sitting position. If you had intended on this whole break being to lessen the amount of general discomfort you were feeling, it seems to have been a complete failure. A lovely, incredible failure. “There’s a time and a place, Death.” “I could’ve said the same to you not long ago.”

You’d be more tempted to come up with some sort of snappy comeback, If his two note chuckle at your embarrassment hadn’t caught you so off guard.

You just smack his chest instead, before looking away and trying to avoid any sort of eye contact. Moments later and his teasing comment well past gone, you sigh and lean against his arm in an over-dramatic motion adding to what you were about to say. Your lips just barely graze against the skin of his shoulder in an almost-kiss; something you’ve gotten used to doing.

“I think I need a little bit more rest though.” Death turns and even with the mask, you can tell he had a decently mirthful expression; By his standards. He’d spotted the way you’d looked up at the sky and noticed a familiar bird, fingers flexing as if you waited to lovingly squeeze the carrion eating pest. “Are you actually going to rest, or use the time to coddle Dust?” Almost as if he heard his name called the crow descends through the treetops, and plops into the lap of his preferred affection giver. Which is you, of course. Death watches the bird puff up, a nearly shapeless mass of feathers as you scratch to rid him of any dirt and douse him with, at least what you thought was, deserved affections. “The blasted bird already never listens, the last thing he needs is your wily affections making him any lazier.”

Death then suddenly notices the way you’ve been leaning against his arm, laughing and smiling, fingers toying with a torn bit of his armor. Your face was still slightly flush, hair and clothing a bit of a mess, and he couldn’t help the hand that darted out to fix a stray piece of hair without you noticing. It all feels, nice. Like he isn’t Creation’s most reviled being. “Summon Despair, I’ll win him over too. Horsemen without a horse.”

Death wouldn’t comment on how you more than likely already had, with how much you scratched behind his ears and call him ‘A good boy, The smartest boy,' and 'The best undead horse in the universe.'  To think, Death could remember a time you’d been utterly scared out of your wits by the horse, and him by extension.

How you had changed tune about them so drastically in such a short amount of time continues to baffle him. He wonders sometimes if other humans would be as similarly forgiving.

“The realms surely tremble with excitement from the mere thought.”

The scowl that is being sent at Dust from his owner would’ve surely melted any other bird; But Dust is of a different breed, and simply sits content and continues preening.

“Quite the shame they don’t know then.” If Death had tried to contain his feeling of complete exasperation with you and all your antics, it didn’t work, letting out a sigh.

“Take it to the grave then, will you?”

You can only chuckle, extremely pleased at his exasperation. Dust joins in only in timing with a soft warble, overjoyed that you were scratching the puff of feathers behind one of his ears. How lucky Death thought he was, to have not one aggravating travel companion, but two.

Not that he would ever complain out loud. If anything, half of the reason he was out here was because you’d found the last Death Tomb so fascinating, even if for him it was just another monotonous journey.

You had been wide eyed looking at vases and murals, spinning around to see every little thing. So easily entertained humans were, as Death had watched you eye a variable mound of golden coins. It was part of the reason he insisted you accompany him, beyond an admittedly selfish desire to have you alone; And away from hovering Makers.

When was the last time something had caught Death’s interest so tightly? Besides you, he can’t quite remember.

“I could take it to the grave with me…” Death can feel the ‘but’ hanging just off the end of your sentence, waiting for whatever chaos you were going to concoct in the same way he prepared for the brunt of battle.

“Or you could introduce me to Strife, and I could joke about it with him.” You’ve said many a stupid thing before, both to and in earshot of Death, but none had gotten such a lightning quick response of:

“Absolutely not.”

[thswrtchdthng]

YOU. give me your jonah magnus headcanons

oh FUCK yes.

let me preface this by saying I could talk about this piece of shit for HOURS. also these range from completely random trivia things to silly to oddly specific. also I may have projected a bit too much but oh well, that's what fictional babygirls are for

- I'm a trans Jonah truther. but also he'd been going exclusively by he/him pretty much his whole life until someone in the middle of an argument called him "it" and he had one of those "wait am I even a person" moments and since then he does not know wtf he is. is he a man? is he a thing? is he a creature? is he a concept? none of the above? all of the avobe? who knows. not even the Eye knows what's going on with that.

- he grew up on the outskirts of Edinburgh, and he has very mixed feelings about it. like on one hand he did not like it and was overjoyed to leave, but on the other that is his home and you will not disrespect it. to this day if anyone talks shit about Edinburgh or Scotland in general he has to stop himself from acting bothered about it.

- I'm sorry but I can smell his daddy/mommy issues from MILES away (he has both).

- he used to be super self-conscious. the "shit they're all staring at me but I need to pretend to be confident and respectable so fuck it" sort of way.

- he was especially insecure about his freckles. he was convinced they made him look like a little kid (which is not true, freckles are gorgeous and fuck anyone who thinks otherwise).

- he's always had a huge staring problem. and he originally had really big eyes so if anyone caught his interest they'd just be doing their thing and then turn around and catch him like 👁️_👁️.

- also he was always that kid that asked too many questions, especially regarding god (another thing I can smell from miles away is the religious trauma).

- he was born on november 13th 1787 (a tuesday the 13th, which in some cultures is believed to be a bad luck day, like friday the 13th) and officially founded the Institute on his 31st birthday (november 13th 1818, a friday the 13th).

- he has a collection of lover's eyes gifted by his many boyfriends acquaintances. he's got them all in a little box at his place and he remembers the exact moment each was gifted to him.

- I'm not going to get into how I imagine the time between when Barnabas got chucked into the Lonely and when he went to get his bones (it would take far too long) but this bitch was Not Having A Good Time. those broken glasses and torn pages Barny mentioned in his last letter? all him baby.

- also after Barnabas died he had a period of a couple weeks where he did not speak. not one word. he looked completely normal otherwise but people did notice. after that he just acted like nothing had happened and pretended to be clueless when people asked him about it.

- speaking of Barnabas's bones, he got a quill made of the bones in the ring finger of his left hand. he never uses it (no occasion is special enough) but he takes it with him any time he leaves the Institute for longer than a day (he couldn't take it with him to jail though :( ).

- speaking of leaving the Institute, he travels surprisingly rarely. it's not that he doesn't like traveling or that he can't afford it, he simply doesn't do it.

- Jonathan Fanshawe's last letter hurt him far more than he expected, and so did Albrecht's death. he thought he wouldn't feel much after Barny's death but that shit hit him.

- his eyesight gets worse every time he gets a new body. as Elias his glasses are so thick it's almost comical.

- he loves fluffy blankets with a PASSION.

-but he despises fluffy sweaters. he cannot wear them.

- he also loves pillows, cushions etc. he has at least 10 in his bed.

- you can't tell me his egotistical ass doesn't spend AT LEAST 2 hours getting ready every day (and 50% of that time he spends just staring at himself, checking that every minute detail is absolutely perfect).

- he's a raging hypochondriac. this man (gender neutral) will sneeze once and he's already thinking about his next body.

- his favorite cake flavour is red velvet. also black forest cake reminds him of Albrecht.

- as much as I like the joke of Jonah being the Lukases communal bootycall, he actually despises most of that family.

- aside from his long list of "acquaintances", he did have a super short fling with Simon Fairchild. Simon still jokes about it to this day and Jonah hates him for it.

- when he's angry or under a lot of stress he'll just stop blinking. like he usually doesn't blink as often as The Average Human, but if he's mad he'll just stop entirely. this started happening after the failed Watcher's Crown, but he didn't notice it until one time Gertrude pointed it out (that was a fun conversation, I might write something about this eventually).

- sometimes he'll forget or just not feel like doing normal bodily functions like eating or sleeping, and when he remembers that he has to in order to, you know, function, he gets so mad about it (why are human bodies so high maintenance and so unreliable at the same time istg).

- he used to be a sacredy cat. not anymore because he can See when people are close to him, but if you were to come up behind him to scare him back in the day he would leap.

- he has an odd fondness for amaranth flowers. I doubt he's a plant person but he likes those a lot (and tbh now that I think about it the mental image of plant mom Jonah makes me very soft. he'd tell the plants his Evil Plans and shit).

this is all I could think of off the top of my head but I'll probably add more as time goes by. I loved finally listing my headcanons for this little fucker so thanks for giving me the chance lol

[batsplat]

after 2015 until 2018 it seemed that things had calmed down a bit between valentino and marc, in the sense that they had started to be polite between them again and valentino no longer seemed to be on a war footing. then after argentina obviously the situation worsened again. in the podcast where valentino spoke in 2021 if I'm not mistaken, when he talks about marc,however, he only refers to the events of sepang and not to what happened in argentina which instead seemed to have been the final “divorce”. so my question is, during 2016 and 2017 did valentino just pretend to put up with marc? because in that podcast you can feel valentino's resentment is still a lot even after many years, so I imagine it must have been even greater in the two years immediately following sepang, even if it didn't seem if you see how he behaved

well. look. it was reflected in how valentino behaved... I think sometimes if you see isolated photos and gifsets, you can maybe be left with a bit of a mistaken impression of what that dynamic actually looked like for those two years. they got to a point post-catalunya where they were civil to each other, and maybe they'd exchange two lines in greeting, at podium celebrations, when somebody in a presser made a joke... and maybe marc at the very least was sincerely hoping they could get back to something like what they had before 2015. in reality, though, it was still very very far away. it wasn't open hostilities... at some point in 2016, valentino realised he simply couldn't go on like this. I talked about it a bit here:

you get this discrepancy in his 2016 output, actually. if you compare what he's saying that autumn for written press interviews vs what he's saying with marc right next to him... he'd clearly decided there was zero point in directly fanning the flames. at the sepang 2016 presser when marc and him are quizzed on what had happened the previous year, he just goes with marc's response and decides against reopening the controversy by adding anything from his side. but he still made it clear he hadn't changed his mind in interviews from the exact same time period! at times, he tolerates marc's tentative advances - at other times, he's almost accidentally sucked in, like he can't quite help himself from laughing at something marc has said. but there was never a period where he forgave marc for what he'd done... for various reasons he just decided he wasn't going to harp on about it too much. he did basically say as much post-argentina 2018:

but yeah, argentina 2018. it's an interesting one, isn't it? the stuff that valentino says there doesn't actually feel... quite in line with anything else he's said about marc. typically, when valentino criticises marc, it really is all about sepang 2015 - it's very focused, very specific, he's talking about being unable to forgive marc on a personal level for something marc had done to valentino... but it's not like he's really coming at marc for anything else... when other riders have gotten into spats with marc, he's stayed out of it - and generally he remains pretty neutral when he talks about everything else concerning marc. so, for example, there's a world where the moment alex rins is saying marc doesn't respect other riders in 2019, valentino immediately jumps at the opportunity to offer his hot take... but he doesn't do that. and yes, he had criticised marc's riding before, in particular in marc's moto2 days, but obviously those criticisms were considerably more restrained and sounded at times quite worried for marc's sake. (he also got close to that in silverstone 2016 when he remarked marc had 'something special' for their battles, but a) he's not wrong, except insofar as it's clearly mutual, and b) he explicitly said he didn't have a problem with that fight and considered it hard but fair). in 2017, when valentino was criticising other riders for being too aggressive... well, he wasn't doing so with marc, and he even conceded the point to marc in subsequent races after marc had obliquely criticised valentino at cota for his rhetoric not matching up to his own riding. when valentino's young riders have gotten into their own spats with marc, he's not waded in either, at most saying stuff about marc's fight with pecco that from his lips sounds almost like something akin to praise. radio silence after bez's run in with marc at the end of last year... argentina 2018 is the exception not the rule

and you know... at the end of the day, that was an emotional reaction. valentino might be wearing the habitual smile on his face during the media debrief and sound reasonably calm and composed, but he was furious. which, it's always worth remembering, isn't an entirely unreasonable reaction to that specific situation. yes, valentino doesn't have a clean track record either, but you're going to struggle to find such a... weaponised carelessness, a blatant disinterest in his fellow riders while shoving them aside, in the way marc was exhibiting that day - and indeed that whole weekend. looking back, of course argentina 2018 ended up being an isolated blot on marc's track record that he's not come close to repeating since (yes, he's made high profile errors that took out other riders, but it's different)... but we didn't know that at the time. also, I doubt valentino much appreciated being treated just like an obstacle in marc's path! the fact that valentino wasn't the only marc victim that weekend kind of has an interesting effect, because you have to doubt whether it would have helped if valentino felt like he was being targeted specifically by marc, but on the other hand... well, it's almost disrespectful, isn't it... being singled out is in a way still better than being brushed aside like any other rider

still, valentino's pushing it with his criticisms, he's out of line, and he clearly did lash out in the heat of the moment - which was of course largely a product of the resentment he'd been holding onto those past two years. calling marc's behaviour that day dangerous? sure, you'd find a lot of agreement for that. saying that marc was ruining the sport? that he was intentionally causing other riders to crash? ... well, hold on one moment. I reckon the simplest explanation is the best one here: valentino was angry and said stuff he wouldn't otherwise say, which we know because he's not done so before or since. of course, he was never going to retract what he said about marc that day - he wasn't ever going to apologise for it. not with their history, not when there was still just enough about those argentina comments that he meant... so he wasn't going to feel too much regret about the bits he wouldn't have said under any other circumstance. the problem post-2015 for valentino is that constantly signalling his fury to the world wasn't doing him much good... but pretending like everything was just fine clearly also took a bit of a toll. argentina 2018 wiped the slate clean - even though they gradually crept back towards basic civility after that. and valentino really didn't continue with that line of critique... since then he's basically completely reverted back to a sepang 2015-centric approach. maybe a few hints at it... in 2021, he said something along the lines of how he doesn't feel good when he's on-track with marc, but that's pretty generic while also crucially being personal - he's not saying marc is a problem for the series, he's saying it's them specifically that have an issue with each other

which doesn't mean he didn't believe what he said in argentina 2018 in the moment... when they reconvened in cota and had marc and valentino do separate media debriefs from the main presser, valentino said he stood by his comments - but also didn't actually repeat them or elaborate on them or anything. he's back to terse short responses to the press' questions, saying he wants to focus on the race ahead: kind of the go-to approach when it comes to marc post-sepang (with notable exceptions). he's walked his strongest comments back as much as he was probably ever going to - by simple virtue of the fact that he's left it at that. and you know, he's a complicated guy... 2016-17 was both pretending and it also wasn't. he didn't act like everything was forgotten, but he certainly was willing to let people believe that this relationship might end up being mended - which quite frankly was probably never going to happen. mostly, he was just sort of sick of the whole thing, struggling to enjoy himself in what had become such a charged, hostile environment for all the riders involved. at the same time, look - fundamentally, the interpersonal chemistry with marc was always fine. they click as people! they click as riders! marc makes valentino laugh! sometimes, that line between 'pretending' and 'letting yourself pretend' and 'actually not pretending at all' can be quite thin. when valentino talks in that time period about how much he enjoyed a battle with marc, of course he isn't lying - because he really does enjoy those fights! that's what racing is all about for him, and that's something him and marc still share! as long as marc isn't barging him aside and causing him to crash, that is. maybe it'd be easier if it were all a pretence, but it wasn't... sometimes, when you say you thought a race was hard and fair, you really do mean it and you really did have a lot of fun. sometimes, the struggle isn't actually acting nice for the cameras, it's trying to bite down the temptation to laugh alongside your sworn enemy

see also assen 2016... like, isn't this kinda wild? you've just had catalunya the race before, you've just had the mere semblance of a tentative start to a possible reconciliation - then they return to the place that was really the beginning of the end for them. they go on a few track familiarisation laps, including to check out the resurfaced final chicane (aka the scene of the crime). they race each other on said track familiarisation laps. then marc brings it up in the presser, giggling about the whole thing, and apparently valentino also finds it pretty funny - before he visibly swallows up his grin. later that weekend, marc pointedly decides to try out valentino's final chicane move himself during the warm up session. this is all obviously deranged, but it's a type of deranged where they are fundamentally on the same wavelength. it's the kind of ridiculous behaviour they're both incredibly fond of... you see it in how valentino shrugs off the towing at catalunya 2019, and thinks it speaks to marc's smarts and wiliness - unsurprising, really, because they're so similar in that regard, and valentino has never shaken his admiration for marc as a competitor

valentino can clamp down on his animosity towards a rival during his direct interactions with them... lord knows if you watch a few of the casey and valentino face-to-face interactions over the years, you really wouldn't match that up with the sheer vitriol of some of the stuff they were concurrently saying about each other in the press. that rivalry was never really personal (on valentino's end), it was never fraught in the same way (for valentino anyway) - still, it shows he's theoretically capable of separating this stuff out when he needs to... and he just about managed with marc for two years. if he had just been waiting for an excuse, surely you would have heard at least a hint of that when him and marc swapped paint in 2017. you never quite knew how he was going to answer the inevitable questions about marc's riding, but no direct criticism was forthcoming at any stage. the post-argentina 2018 rhetoric wasn't in any way premeditated from valentino's side, and personally I don't think he was just waiting for an excuse either. it was the result of a constant internal conflict between knowing that engaging in any more active beef with marc wouldn't do anyone any good, and the fact that he still hadn't forgiven marc... and then a race came along that simply pissed him off enough to push him over the edge

from 2016 onwards, valentino both very much wanted and very much did not want further conflict with marc, and neither of those impulses ever quite go away. usually, he's disciplined enough to avoid stoking the flames any further... potshots to the press outside of the paddock are essentially a free and harmless outlet in that regard, and even there you can tell he was trying to scale it back in the years where he was being forced to directly interact with marc. he was pretending and not pretending and sometimes pretending like he wasn't pretending and sometimes pretending like he was pretending. maybe it would have always just taken one major on-track confrontation for things to fall apart between them again... but you do kinda have to acknowledge the whole thing was really unfortunate. I've long thought that something like sepang 2015 was pretty inevitable as long as valentino managed to put himself in title contention once marc had joined the premier class, but I don't actually feel the same way about argentina 2018. an awful marriage of circumstance and coincidence and bad choices caused the relationship to fall apart again this badly. valentino might have had some more or less sincere misgivings about marc's riding, but at the end of the day he wasn't going to ever express them unless it got personal - because all of these people are incredibly self-centred and valentino wouldn't have felt like it was worth it. he lost his temper, he said some stuff he might partly but not fully believe, he's not inclined to bring it up again. that's that

[dirtyoldmanhole]

in defense of revelation

most of y'all know me as a pre-tumblr tellius fan who recently got suckered into fates/(especially revelation) in the past year and how often i've repeatedly stated how very fucking glad i was not around for peak fates fan/hatedom. even living afar from the field in other fandoms for that brief 2015-2021 time period, fates discourse was... special, to say the least.

me being me, i do want to take a step back and consider in good faith... why?

why the outsized hatedom for rev especially?

every FE game has its warts with its strengths. and i feel like i'm in a unique position of seeing from a more macro/neutral standpoint having abruptly fallen in love with fates/rev when it's left in the dust for shinier games, and whose viewpoint was never really colored either which way while also living the historical context of the series. (shoot at one point i was a by-default fates hater/"pre-DS fe" snob; I freely admit to eating my own words).

the odd bit of it all is that revelation is by far my favorite of the routes. yes, gunter's outsized impact on the plot is a large part of it, but I actually think I would still like it over conquest/(certinally over birthright and a good 90% of FE games) even if another character had taken that role, as long as it was handled in a similarly complex way (anankos' cosmic horror shtick was fuckin' rad).

let's start with the common criticisms (a few picked from this halfway reasonable reddit thread that attempts something similar) and others gleaned elsewhere from the interwebs over the year.

the unit balancing

IMO this is the fairest criticism of the list; i can see why a bunch of underleveled units handed out slowly before the cast rolls into valla would be a legitimate annoyance to old hats and newcomers alike.

that said: something about gameplay with Fates that i think was brilliant is there's a massive intentional difference between royals and every other character. royals get special weapons, they're a class unto themselves literally and also in being able to solo entire swaths of levels. (birthright being a literal name of one of the routes, for pete's sake.) i've attempted both a rev run with royals and a rev run without royals (using gunter too lol) back to back and honestly the sheer difficulty spike is genuinely fascinating from a story perspective.

you feel how utterly powerless non-royals feel.

(also given people mostly emotionally got attached to the royals.... in the other two routes they were probably willing to wait a little longer for their blorbo to appear and assuaged by many cutscenes of them.)

also tangent, but gameplay wise: i also kind of want to push back at the redditor in the thread above who mentioned rev as a sandbox experience of Fates; I can see why they would say that as it's perceived as the neutral route, when personally it's better framed as the valla-specific route with a very tight cast focus (ie the characters that actually impact the plot); having almost the whole cast being playable was just a type of newgame+ bonus. like i wouldn't expect a nohrian character to get much limelight in birthright in favor of the hoshidans, so too would I not expect a non valla-related character to get as much focus and decent treatment in rev.

very petty add on: if i can make mister zero stats grandpa OHKO ryoma in rev on my second run, git gud shrub

the story

so here's the thing.

i'm objectively biased by being head over heels for gunter as a character and his outsized impact on lategame rev - but i don't think i'm wrong with saying that people were looking for the wrong thematic beats regarding revelation's story with how it was framed beyond itself.

if you focus on the adults - mikoto, arete, gunter, garon, and the unaffiliated characters that didn't get a chance to shine in the other two nation-specific routes (azura, lilith, anankos, corrin's backstory in the northern fortress) - revelation will blow your socks off with how nuanced and interwoven between the characters mentioned above the story is.

you just need to give it a fair chance.

gimmick maps

this is honestly where i laugh a little and simply gesture to three houses' objectively terrible same-y maps. TH had other strengths; its maps are not one of them. i'd rather take a memorable gimmick in a heartbeat than 4/5ths of a game i straight up do not remember the levels (a criticism that could also go for FE11/12/most of the series pre FE7).

the snow shoveling map in particular draws the most ire (fair lol), but let's take that map out, and.... honestly none of the others feel egregarious? FE's done 'only three characters deployed" before (the cave chapter which is pretty short and not too unbalanced). the moving platforms have been done in FE7. the traps in anankos' lair were honestly pretty fun for instilling more of the horror/claustrophobic vibe and didn't have total buzzkills like powerful ranged magic bosses to ruin your day (FE6/7/16 lookin' at you).

of fates' routes, conquest's maps age a little bit better by being generally emotionally married to the story beats more, but personally i find they're a little overtuned at times. honestly the worst i can say is that conquest's maps overshine the other two routes when the other two routes had pretty decent-to-good map design that age well by their own right.

the babyrealms

sure, and.............? honestly i feel like every FE game has its completely anime whack-ass mechanic from space.

the best part is the children mechanic in fates is completely optional and segregated from the story - if you hate it that much it doesn't even have to exist. god knows i wish the My Unit/time travel of Awakening onwards didn't exist, or the kids of FE13 didn't exist, or the whole "secret space technology" of FE16 didn't exist, or the toothpaste hair of Engage, or the fucking gameplay of FE4/6, and frankly the laguz can be a bit tough to swallow as an idea if you didn't grow up with the anime tropes of cat girls or shapeshifters at the time (and the anvilicious anti-racism themes) -- all of which are way more plot relevant to their respective games.

'just fighting zombies for the latter half'

ironically i'm usually the first person to absolutely despise the 'fighting non-characters/nameless zombies' trope. so i do sympathize.

one: honestly that critique isn't that much different than the FE-bog-standard 'fight twenty maps packed with samey soldiers of the Bad Evil Country' (FE9 with daein alas) - if anything, like FE8, zombies are a nice change of pace and rev even one-ups sacred stones by giving the possessed vallites an extra bit of fridge horror if you give one temporary shit about the vallites.

a better defense though, is much like how i think viewing Final Fantasy 7 as anything but a massive homage to sci-fi horror would be a miss to its story, visual, and emotional beats - i also think it'd be a miss to not recognize that revelation is the cosmic horror of fire emblem.

the slowly-revealed possession of someone very precious to corrin. the needless deaths of named cast members. anankos' entire freaking design. the last four-five chapters of fighting your own parents/parental figures who both plead with you to kill them while also trying to convince you to let them kill you, holy fuck. peak psychological horror here too, and i feel like fates is in a uniquely better position with its focus on incestual family dynamics to drive home the emotional impact to the player (if you've married some specific characters like azura and gunter) as well as pull from classic gothic horror - especially brilliant with the nohrian's constant linkage to vampires, another staple of gothic horror.

oh gunter, gunter gunter.

I can't get around this point since I have heard him specifically mentioned (lol) as a failing of revelation. oh zero stats granpda. what are we going to do with you.

(keep in mind i'm not going to be able to tackle all of these sub-points since this would literally be a 20k essay by itself which this blog kinda frankly covers in various degrees; this is a summary).

but let's start with the more objective bits.

ultimately, i ... think a lot of people were really skeeved the fuck out by gunter's possession plotline in the sense it was a huge bet that the series had never done. there were a handful of gunter fans from conquest who would normally be all over his expanded spotlight that fall into this bucket, in addition to the folks that just did not jive with his type of arc/character and who were never gonna like rev. (that's fine, y'all got two whole other games to play in).

giving its jeigan character actual teeth, actual cold-blooded motivations and hatreds and a betrayal that worked entirely at odds with the royal-simping game (and series) didn't help. he never apologized for it either.

giving its jeigan a spotlight role when youth is valorized, and old age demonized to a questionable degree didn't help. (ya notice the ages of all the heroes and villains? the really squicky visual character consistency of beauty equals goodness in anime / that FE is no better at?) his story almost lowkey requires a little maturity to get, higher than the average age of a fates player.

giving its jeigan a nuanced personality that could be caring and protective as much as deeply manipulative (even and especially to corrin) didn't help. locking behind half of their relationship to CQ supports and half his backstory/chats with the rest of the cast being unlocalized likewise didn't help.

giving its jeigan actual sexual menace didn't help. ( in an already sexually-charged game, there are a few very specific lategame possession scenes where that also bleeds over to his role, nevermind his CQ S-support. and crucially, when that slipping mask jarred directly against the father role that people project on him with corrin).

.... and all of those points is exactly why i think his arc is some of the most brilliant writing in the series.

Fates was especially good with taking tired tropes and twisting them just enough in a fucky/power-tilt-y way that it left the player off kilter while giving the games, ultimately, a bittersweet resolution.

some folks don't like that feeling; but i think it was an injection of real charisma and balls in a series that always draws from its specific time-period in history.

thank you for reading ~

[knightprincess]

Scars (Commander Wolffe x Jedi Reader) Part 3

Warning: None Words: 1.9k Pronouns Used: She/Her - Use of Y/N and N/N (nickname)

"Koh-To-Ya, Master Plo," whispered (Y/N) upon waking. Looking around her quarters, she saw Plo peacefully reading over something on his datapad in the corner of the room. The room was just as quiet; no sound seemed to penetrate the durasteel walls despite the airbase being just meters away. 

"Koh-To-Ya, Little (N/N)," called Plo in response, shifting to place the datapad down and move closer to her. As normal, his voice was calm and filled with wisdom. All his swift motions across the room suggested that the concerns plaguing him had finally been settled. "How are you feeling?" questioned the wise Jedi Master the moment he was at her side. The medics had done a good job patching her up; a few stitches were all that remained of the head injury she'd sustained, and in a few weeks, there would be no trace of it. The gash to her side, however, would take a little longer to heal properly; it still sent numbing twinges or a sharp shot of pain to remind her it was there. 

"Like I fell down a chasm," replied (Y/N), her voice scratchy and broken from a prolonged period without use. Your Commander, is he okay?" she asked with concern, forgetting her own injuries and well-being in favor of the battle-worn commander she'd tried to save. As her fuzzy memories cleared up, she recalled catching him with the stem cells and vaguely recalled his yelled response. "Is he still pissed off?" she questioned, not bothering to sugarcoat her words, even in the face of her master. 

"Wolffe made a full recovery and was cleared for active duty a few days ago," responded Plo, not speaking of the changes he noticed regarding the loyal commander, at least not yet. "He's not angry, more confused, conflicted even," he added, bringing a taloned hand to his chin as if to ponder the changes. Many times, Plo found Wolffe watching over (Y/N) while off duty. His view of Night Sister, in particular, was changing, or at least his previous opinions of (Y/N) had. She was no longer an enemy, although Wolffe was clearly trying to figure out what she was to him now. 

"How long have I been out?" questioned (Y/N), at least having enough sense to realize it was far longer than a few hours, even more so if Wolffe had been cleared for duty days prior. "The 916th, what's to happen with them?" she added, her concern turning to the troopers she'd previously led rather than to her own health and healing. Rightly so, the Jedi Knight knew she'd be reassigned soon enough. The council never seemed to hesitate to send her around the galaxy. 

"Calm (N/N), the 916th are well taken care of; Master Yoda has taken command for now," asserted Plo, placing a hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder as if to aid in calming her and ensure she did not overexert herself. "You've been asleep for five rotations," he informed, seeing the shock wash over her features before being replaced with a more neutral expression. After a while, (Y/N) simply nodded, although she was still collecting her scattered thoughts and senses. She'd been out that long, and no one tried to transfer her back to Coruscant or a long-term medbay. Quickly, she figured Plo had prevented it; after all, her fear, almost hatred of medbays, wasn't a secret she kept to herself. Anyone who knew her knew she refused to be near a medbay after the events that transpired as a child. 

"I'm to be reassigned, aren't I?" commented (Y/N), her tone flat as she worded the question more matter-of-factly. She knew she would be reassigned, but the question was where and for how long this time. 

"Indeed you are," voiced Plo in response, taking a seat at her side once again, taking on the role of a father figure rather than a Jedi Master. "Shaak Ti has requested you return to Kamino. She says there is a specific unit that will benefit from your training," spoke the Kel Dor. "While there, I'd advise you to acquaint yourself with the Commando units. You're to be assigned as their permanent commander." 

"What changed the council's mind?" asked (Y/N) before she had a chance to stop the question from leaving her lips. However, she didn't regret asking it. She knew that if she didn't, it would eat away at her until she eventually found the courage to ask. 

"I put the notion to the council after the Wolf Pack mentioned it. As did several council members, both the senate and the commandoes agreed," recalled Plo, hearing the quiet thank you in response. Although he was sure, she meant it for more than just her new assignments. More than likely, she referred to remaining at the base instead of waking up in a clinical medbay somewhere, surrounded by reminders of the past she tried so hard to suppress and bombarded by the memories and anxiety it would cause. 

Just moments after (Y/N) fell into peaceful slumber again, a buzzing sound emanated from the door. The second it opened, Comet entered, holding on to (Y/N)'s lightsabers, the graceful weapons he'd spent hours most nights trying to mend, with little luck. The most he'd been able to do with his limited knowledge was to get the damaged one to buzz and overheat before powering off. Other than that, his only success was to add a little wolf charm to the hilt of the twin duel lightsabers. If only so (Y/N) had a reminder of them when she eventually left. 

"Wolffe's pacing around the hall again," gently spoke Comet, his voice quiet so as not to wake the peaceful Jedi again. Plo nodded once more before leaving the room, placing a hand on Comet's shoulder. 

Since the fall, Wolffe has been different. He's all-focused and still does his job perfectly when on duty, but he seemed confused and even conflicted when off duty. Plo had noticed and subtly told his commander he was there should he feel the need to speak of what bothered him. The wise Kel Dor could sense the conflicted feelings and confusion revolving around (Y/N) and her actions to save him and will to do so at a great cost to herself, even after his prior treatment of her. 

"Runi," quietly voiced Comet, his words no louder than a whisper. His attention was on the lightsabers clutched in his gloved hands. I tried fixing your lightsaber, but it doesn't like me. It buzzes and overheats now. Kinda like Wolffe when he's off duty," he joked, stepping closer to (Y/N), seemingly peacefully sleeping. No doubt, the powerful painkillers had kicked in. "I don't know if anyone else said this, but thank you for saving our grumpy brother. He appreciates it too, even if he doesn't outwardly show it," finished Comet, as he gently placed the lightsabers on the shelf just behind where (Y/N) slept. After completing his task, he left the room once more, making sure the door slid shut properly before leaving, only glancing back upon hearing Wolffe's familiar all-be-it hesitated growls, likely warding away the civvi medic again. 

"This is the most I've seen Wolffe confused in some time," stated Boost, witnessing as the commander began to pace back and forth. He was agitated, confused, and clearly conflicted, more so than he normally was. There was little doubt (Y/N) was the cause of his confusion, especially if the mumbled words in the dead of night and sleep were anything to go by. 

"I don't know; he was pretty messed up after losing his eye," replied Sinker, recalling the struggle well. In Wolffe's mind, all Jedi became lightsaber-wielding maniacs, even their wise General Plo. Civvi's were still unknown territory for Wolffe; he'd yet to regain the confidence he'd once had before the Malevolence and losing his eye. After the Malevolence, the commander had begun to shut himself off and closed off his heart from caring about others for fear he'd lose them like all those at Abregardo. 

Asajj Ventress, taking his eye, forced away any softness Wolffe may have had toward those outside his brothers and Wolf Pack. He became so much colder towards Civvi, always expecting judgment from them, normally harsh judgment at that. Most of the time, he didn't give civvies a chance to know him or see the softer side that had become a well-guarded secret. 

"He likes her. What's to be confused about?" voiced Warthog, leaning against the wall. Normally, he'd take the chance to tease Wolffe, but he knew better than to do that at the moment. Especially when the chances of his head being bitten off were higher than normal. "You know, other than she's a Night Sister, and he swore to hate all Children of Dathomir," chuckled the pilot, knowing if Wolffe heard him now, he'd be growled at for days. 

"Did you return her sabers?" came Wolffe's booming voice, startling the group of four. Warthog, in particular, paled as he turned to face his commander. He'd expected to see the normal flat unamusement painted on Wolffe's features, but instead, he was met with something else entirely. Wolffe clearly displayed his exhaustion, although that didn't stop the commander from whacking the pilot upside the head, at least confirming he'd heard his words. "I'm not confused. I just ... don't understand her." 

"She'll be leaving soon. Should be easier for you to forget about her and return to your grouchy self," spoke the second civvi medic. This one was male and hardly a joy to be around. Most of the time, he'd taken delight in naming each clone insulting names, calling them by their identification numbers, or just outright being callous. "I doubt that would be much trouble for the rest of you mindless soldiers."

"Is it still against the rules to shoot civvi personnel?" asked Sinker, making sure his words were loud enough for the civvi to hear as he all but stomped away. No doubt, he was heading to (Y/N)'s quarters to check on her. Now she had woken, it would only be a matter of time before she was set to Kamino for her next assignment. 

"Unfortunately, yes," voiced Boost in response, rolling his own brown eyes at the thought of having to put up with the civvi for several more months, at least until his rotation with them ended. "As much as I agree, the temptation to commit said war crime is there. It's not worth the court marshaling we'd get for it." 

"General Plo's disappointment would be far worse," Wolffe said before walking away, hearing the boys following along as if they understood his silent intentions of returning to the barracks. However, the commander became suspicious of their motives. Were they following to keep out of trouble or to begin the thought-out interrogation they had been summing up the courage to commit for days? 

Series Masterlist

[angels-heap]

I would love any advice you have for protecting yourself against covid in a work environment where no one else cares, because I’m in the same boat.

That really, really sucks, friend. As I said, I don't have all the answers, but here's what I've learned over the last few years and what's worked for me and my inner circle so far. Note that much of this advice will be US-centric because that's what I know best.

First, some light reading: This Covid Safety 101 flyer/infographic includes a ton of helpful info, and I've had some success using it as a conversation starter in my workplace. TL;DR: COVID is airborne, it's a SARS virus, its effects can be devastating, and your risk of Long COVID increases with each infection. We should all be taking steps to contract COVID as few times as possible and spread it as little as possible, with or without the support we should be getting from our public health institutions.

As for practical suggestions, many of them unfortunately cost a non-inconsequential amount of money because we live in a capitalist hellscape, but here are some things you can try, roughly ordered from least to most expensive.

Awareness: COVID is airborne!

A lot of folks, including people in the medical field (!!!) seem hesitant to believe/accept that COVID is airborne, even though this has been understood by researchers since fairly early on in the pandemic. Since most lingering "infection prevention" protocols focus on things like handwashing, disinfecting surfaces, and keeping a six foot distance from other people (all good for public health, but not particularly helpful for COVID), you'll need to gauge your own safety and comfort when around others.

As a general rule, if you're close enough to someone that you could smell their vape or cigarette smoke if they were engaging in such an activity, you're probably close enough catch COVID from them. Also, like smoke, COVID can linger in the air for a while after someone leaves a room. Adjust your habits accordingly and keep your mask on as much as possible (see below).

CPC Mouthwash and Nasal Sprays

I haven't had time to do a ton of research on these options, so take my recommendations with a grain of salt, but it sounds like there's some research coming out that suggests certain nasal sprays and mouthwashes containing CPC (Cetylpyridinium Chloride) may help neutralize viruses or block them from entering your body (or, at the very least, they may help reduce your viral load). I've been using Crest Pro-Health Clinical Rinse mouthwash before and after interacting with people for the last few months; I don't know how much of a role it's played in keeping me safe, but it might be helping, and even if it's not, it was cheap and my breath is always minty fresh. Here's some more info about nasal sprays, since I don't know enough about them to make any specific recommendations.

Testing

Keep a few rapid antigen tests on hand, if you can, but know their limits as a diagnostic or preventive measure, especially as new variants continue to evolve. My current understanding is that many new variants won't show up on a home test until day 3-4 of symptoms. What this means for you is:

Testing when you're completely asymptomatic and don't have any known recent exposures is probably not the best use of your resources.

If you have any unusual symptoms that might indicate illness, stay home (or wear a high quality mask, if you must interact with others). A negative test doesn't necessarily mean you're in the clear, and if you're sick, you can transmit COVID for several days before you test positive.

Swabbing your mouth and throat in addition to your nose (in that order, obviously) may increase the sensitivity of home tests.

Any sign of a positive test line counts as a positive! If the test line is very, very faint, that still counts.

If you feel sick, but your first test comes back negative, try again in a few days and keep testing periodically until you feel better and are no longer testing positive.

Vaccines

They're not perfect, and they won't get us out of this mess on their own, but if you have access to vaccines, get them. Any vaccine is better than no vaccine, but FWIW, I personally opted to get Novavax this year, after learning that it was the jab of choice for many COVID safety advocates and researchers. Pros of Novavax, specifically, include lower risk of side effects, possibly more durable immunity, and it's not an mRNA vaccine (great option for the vaccine skeptics in your life). But in the end, get whatever you can get.

Masks

If you're not already wearing an N95 respirator or similar, such as KN95, FFP2, KF94, etc., anytime you're indoors (or outdoors in a crowd), now's the time to start. One-way masking isn't perfect, but it's a lot more effective than no-way masking. As someone with a fairly petite face, I've had a hell of a time finding N95 masks that fit me. Through my many expensive mistakes, I have learned:

Avoid buying masks on Amazon, if at all possible. There are a lot of fakes out there.

If most masks fit you comfortably and you're comfortable wearing masks with headstraps (which tend to have a better seal than earloop masks), the 3M Aura is fantastic.

WellBefore sells masks in a variety of styles, sizes, and colors for affordable-ish prices. If you have a more petite face and have found that blue surgical masks and most N95s are huge on you, try their small or child sized masks.

BreatheTeq makes great masks in 4 sizes, and they sell a sample sizing kit for $7 + shipping to help you avoid wasting money.

Masks with headstraps generally form a better seal than masks with ear loops, but the most effective mask is one that you can/will actually wear semi-comfortably. Don't let perfect be the enemy of good. I've been wearing earloop masks for 3.5 years and have made it through multiple known exposures unscathed.

If you can afford to keep a few extra masks on hand to offer to colleages who have to be in your space, people who are coughing in public, or people who seem to be trying but they're still wearing inadequate surgical or cloth masks, do so. More often than not, people will take and wear them when offered!

Air Filtration

If we lived in a society that believed in public health and safety over profits, we'd have spent the last 3 years improving air filtration in public spaces. Alas, most places did not do this, so your next best options are as follows:

Open windows and prop doors whenever you can! Your goal is to keep fresh air moving through your space and minimize the amount of air that will be "re-breathed" by multiple people.

Build a Corsi-Rosenthal box with furnace filters and a box fan. Pros: Fairly cheap and easy to do; Cons: Boxes are large and can be loud. Some sites also provide instructions and/or sell kits to make smaller, more portable C-R boxes out of desktop computer fans.

Buy a HEPA air purifier (or 2, or 3), or try to get your workplace to shell out for one. While many brands sell small, portable purifiers that are around the size of a lunchbox, I would personally recommend that you buy the largest one you can afford. The smaller ones are probably better than nothing, but you really want a more room-scale solution, if possible. I've had good experiences with Medify Air and Coway air purifiers, but I'm sure there are other great brands out there as well.

If you buy an air purifier, you want one with a HEPA filter and without an ionizer, as ionizers aren't as helpful as the advertising would lead you to believe and they can pose health risks (ozone exposure, etc.).

Measuring Air Quality

If you can afford it, buy an Aranet 4 CO2 monitor. Yes, they're expensive, but I haven't heard of any cheaper products that compare in terms of accuracy or portability. (And they do occasionally go on sale on Amazon.) The Aranet 4 measures the concentration of carbon dioxide in the air around you. This reading is a great proxy for how much COVID might be in the air, and it can help you identify which areas of your home or workplace are the safest, and which ones would benefit the most from fresh air, an air purifier, or other safety measures.

[mchlgayser]

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 ft kageyama tobio

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Your neighbor, your friend, and someone you and everyone claims to like you a lot has taken time longer than you expected to confess - so you force him to.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff / ( ✮ )

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: jealousy, and indirect confession

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: This one is pure shit, the idea inspo is based on my old fics on Wattpad but I redo it, don't really like it but don't hate it either, just a so-so but let me know what you think in the comments. happy reading xx

'Good morning, Tobio!' Kageyama who just got out of his house is stunned, to say the least, he is late, so late for school, and the second he hurried outside the house, he sees you on the front porch of his house with a bag slinging over your shoulder and waiting for him.

The boy's face flushed bright red seeing you, he took upon your face with a neutral expression glued 'What are you doing here?' He questioned, looking down at you with a furrowed brow 'Oh, I was waiting for you. Come on we'll be late.' You take his hand in yours as you drag him along.

Kageyama Tobio, this stoic-looking sixteen-year-old kid is your neighbor, your friend, and someone you and everyone claim to like you lot. A lot happens since you two knew each other. It has only been a few months since you moved out from your hometown to Miyagi but over time the boy grew an overwhelming interest in you. It was apparent to everyone including you - everyone but him. It also grows on you about him, his passion for volleyball, and vice versa.

It was obvious that he likes you and you like him and there were a few times you encourage yourself to make the first move but your gut tell you otherwise and to wait until he makes the first move.

But as time passed, the opportunity never comes falling, but you would always console yourself to wait, I mean, after all, patience is a virtue. But Oh, God, it's been over three months since that, and no signs from the boy. You are growing impatience each second passes and today was finally it. The day you reached your limit. No more waiting is what you told yourself. If Kageyama won't make the first move. You'll force him to.

You two walk to school together, your hands occupied with a red-bean-flavored taiyaki. You look at him pointing one finger to the snack 'Want some?' He declines the offer making you huff in disappointment. You two continue walking and are met by Hinata, also on his way to school.

'Kageyama?! Oh Y/n, hello!' You smile at the tangerine-haired boy and wave at him 'Hi, Shoyo! Are you late to school too?' He chuckles, scratching the back of his non-itchy nape 'I overslept,' You chuckle before finding yourself occupied conversing chats with him.

You two walk to school, Shoyo pushing his bike instead and strolling with you to school leaving Kageyama behind, creating daggers on both your and Shoyo's backs.

The school period ended, and you, Kageyama, and Hinata are on your way to the school's gymnasium where their usual practices are held. You three change shoes as they two went running to the small circle of people warming up. You stand by the manager, Kiyoko Shimizu, and their manager, Ukai Kenshin along with the other assistant manager, Hitoka Yachi.

'Hello Yachi,' She smile at you shyly before she held her hand up to wave back. The boys began practicing their new formats with the coach and Kiyoko on the side, writing down on her clipboard. You watch them, partially Kageyama with water bottles in hand. 'Have Kageyama said anything to you?' You turn to Yachi with your forehead creasing 'No. I honestly don't know what is inside that bird brain of his.' You sass with a tinge of dissatisfaction lacing behind you. Yachi sat down on the benchers with you beside her 'What about your plan?' You knew, by all means, she implies the vicious plan you, and Kiyoko came up with to force Kageyama to confess to you.

'I... Don't know. I don't wanna feel half-bad doing that to him and use Shoyo for my benefit.' She glance your way before she went to Kageyama's 'But doesn't Hinata agree to it? Should be fine right?' You are reluctant to reply to her so you smile.

The day went smoothly, the boys practice like usual, always in their best mood and the same goes for the coach. Everyone is on their 100%. Everyone except you. Are you still in the train of thought about what Yachi said earlier? Should you continue with your plan or should you cancel and wait.

Half of the day ended, and the guys are now resting, and chugging down their water bottles while you and Yachi go around and handed them a clean tucked of towels to dry off their beads of sweats. Everything is fine until a senior from your club came inside the room, looking for you. The senior came and looking for you to talk and you followed him outside for privacy. The boy exchanged looks between each other, especially with Kageyama. Everyone could say that they did notice a certain behavior of the senior towards you and so did Kageyama. Obviously, when you two went out to have a time alone, they're all on Kageyama, eyes widen for him to go and snatch you away but all he did was roll his eyes.

'What?' He's quick to gnaw on, Daichi shakes his head at him 'It's obvious Kageyama. You liked her.' He widens his eyes in surprise, his cheeks hot and warm with blood gushing up to his ears. He put his hands on his ears to minimize the tingly sensation but he didn't move nonetheless.

It's been over ten minutes but you never came back, the boys look over at Kageyama to see him practicing his servings 'Kageyama, you should go and check on Y/n. It's been so long.' Kageyama drops the ball 'Why me?' Daichi shrug his shoulder and then went back to scolding Tanaka and Nishinoya for being nuisances.

Kageyama grumbles under his breath as he slow-walk to any possible place you and the senior would be at.

'I...' He heard a voice say from behind the gymnasium. He wander to the spot he was sure he heard the voice spot you and the senior. His figure towering over you and you both are extremely close to each other.

'I don't know Takashi, you seem like a very nice guy, I adore your passion for sewing a lot too but... I don't think I'm able reciprocate your feeling.' A glimmer of satisfaction flow through the blueberry-haired boy. He continue watching the scene before he unfold.

Takashi smiles at you, his eyes creasing a bit with his dimple showing 'But won't you at least try? We can go on dates but if you are still reluctant to choose me then I'll stop.' You stare into his eyes 'I...'

A sharp and husky voice came contact with you two, Kageyama strutted to where you two were with an annoyed expression 'I'm sorry, but I don't think Y/n will be able to do that.' Takashi gives him a smug smile 'And why is that?' Kageyama who is an inch taller than the boy continues inching his form to his with an intimidating look 'That's because she's mine.' You look between the two taller boy in gawking eyes.

He confessed

Kageyama confessed to you, to Takashi.

Kageyama grabs your hand dragging you out of the place 'Wait Tobio! What is that about?!' He stops his movement abruptly 'What do you mean, Y/n?' He asked, wondering.

'Back there, just now, you confessed! You told me - Takashi, I am yours.' He looks at you, head tilting before his eyes widen in bewilderment. He can't be serious. You can't be serious. That must be a lie right? There's no way...

'That's because she's mine.'

He's doomed. He just said it. He admitted he liked you. Kageyama is in panicked and already on the verge of running and he did but you held his hand 'Where are you going? I haven't given you my answer, yet?' He shake his head trying his best to pry free but you tighten your hold 'What if... I said that...' He close his eyes, already waiting for the rejection to come from your mouth 'I like you too.'

'It's okay, I understand that - Wait, what?' You purse your lip together to prevent laughing at the flustered boy 'I said that I like you too, Tobio.' His face is poker, still but his body reacted. His whole face becoming a hot pink down to his neck. His neck hair stands with anticipation 'So, would you be my... Girlfriend?' You ended up snorting at his confession.

'I don't know,' His head drop at your sudden unexpected answer 'Sure,' His looks on you making you smile

'You guys are so cute together!' Both Tanaka and Nishinoya exclaim, Sugawara laughs at the antics while smiling at you 'So cringe,' Sass Tsukishima with a sour utterance. Both you and Kageyama rolled your eyes at him

'Whatever, Sour-Shima.'

[opalimagines]

Whumptober Day 6 - Recording / Made to Watch / “It should have been me.”

Artemis stays with you in the hospital after you're badly injured as a result of her double life

Character: Artemis Crock

Reader: Neutral

Warnings: injury

Artemis hadn't slept properly in days.

The slightest wink when she could no longer keep her eyes open? Sure. But no real rest had come. She couldn't sleep, not when the scene from days back kept playing in her head. The sickly smell of blood, the sound of your bones cracking, your cries of pain...

She was no stranger to violence, but the memory of what had happened to you made her sick to her stomach. No matter what food Chapel or the others brought her, it was left untouched.

No food, no sleep. Just the beeping of your monitors telling her that you were still alive, and the occasional visit from some of her teammates.

She'd already handled the people who had hurt you when you were still in surgery, fighting for your life as Mid-Nite and Terrific both did everything to save you. Artemis couldn't just stay in the brownstone and wait to hear the results, the building felt too claustrophobic at the time, and the pity in the eyes of her friends only pissed her off.

But now all she had left to do was wait for you to wake up.

She gave your hand a gentle squeeze as she looked up at you from her chair, saying what she'd thought more than once.

"It should've been me."

Even back when you were still just best friends, Artemis preferred to keep you at a safe distance from her life with the JSA. She still told you everything, and you would always help care for her if she got really hurt, but you were never meant to be involved. Clearly that hadn't worked out too well, because you'd been used against her–viciously beaten in front of her–and all she could do was watch it happen.

She was stronger than you thanks to her parents, and she could take quite the beating. Not like you–a fragile, normal human.

It should have been her.

"I'm sorry," she said as a tear rolled down her cheek.

Without letting go of your hand, Artemis turned to look out of the window, across the view of Civic City. It was weird to think of everything continuing to move along outside, all the people going on with their lives while hers felt like it had stopped completely.

It wasn't the first time she'd had that feeling...

She turned to you and there you were, giving her a soft yet pained smile.

Artemis woke with a start and still curled up in her chair with one hand in yours, your thumb gently stroking her hand. It wasn't the first time her body had forced her to sleep, even if just for a short period. She blinked her bleary eyes, and it took her a moment to realize what she was feeling.

"Hi, Artie."

Artemis shot up from her chair, and as much as she wanted to squeeze you tight like she normally did, she stopped herself. Instead, she hugged you like you were made of glass, barely even touching you as she buried her face in the crook of your neck.

You carefully moved your arm to rub her back slowly. "I take it you missed me." Your voice was rough from having a tube down your throat, and Artemis realized...

"How long was I asleep?" She asked as she pulled back to look at you. It had surely been more than a few minutes if Chapel had already checked in with you.

"A few hours at least. Beth said you haven't been sleeping. I didn't want to wake you up."

"You should have," Artemis said, and her voice got much quieter as she continued. "I wasn't sure you'd wake up."

You knew what she really meant.

I thought I was going to lose you like I lost them.

Ignoring the dull pain, you managed to move a couple of inches to give her some room on the bed. Unlike most other days where you'd lay your head on her chest, Artemis pressed herself against your side, relieved to know that you were back.

"You're not getting rid of me anytime soon."

[writing-with-gremworm]

Gepard Yandere Headcanons

Gepard Landau as I understand him is a noble character. He isn't reckless and he holds rules as a baseline with room for sensible variation.

So what if this man was a Yandere?

There are a couple of ways I can see this going. Note that there are going to be elements of over-lap and that I see him having elements of an over-protective Yandere regardless of what other subcategories he falls under.

Brief Disclaimer: These notes are somewhat romanticized, a number of the behaviors listed are not healthy. This is simply for fun and fiction. I do not encourage seeking such in reality.

Soft!Yan!Gepard:

He would listen to your problems and give you meaningful advice or questions. However, if something came up regarding a transgression against you, you may notice the offender showing up around you less often.

Gepard cares deeply about his family and as such he would naturally take up the elder brother role in yours if need be. This could mean he is a filial Soft!Yan who is the overprotective older brother for you. This could also mean that once he sees you as his darling in a romantic sense your family is already his and he will protect them. (With the exception of a bad family, but I digress.)

As a romantic Soft!Yan, he would get flustered easily. His face would be mostly neutral with a slight shift in his brows and a quirk in the corners of his lips. A light red would dust his cheeks and he'd have some difficulty keeping his gaze focused.

In filial or romantic regards he would cuddle you often in private. He'd apologize for not being able to spend more time with you because of his duties.

If you were put in danger he would take one of two paths. He would either teach you to defend yourself or take measures to protect you into his own hands. The latter would most likely look like being surrounded by trustworthy family (Serval and or Lynx) when he can not be beside you. This may be a point where he offers to stand guard for you if it will make you feel safer.

Gepard's expressions aren't negligible normally, but they're certainly more pronounced when they're connected to how he feels about you.

This is the version that seems the most like Gepard normally, so it may go completely unnoticed.

Obsessive/Isolating Yan!Gepard:

When Gepard falls in love, he falls hard. It may have started slow, but once his darling doesn't leave his thoughts they're all he can think about.

He starts noticing that he's annoyed when you smile more with others than him. If this skews more filial he'll jump in immediately and be overprotective. If this skews more romantic, he'll quietly seeth and jump in as a brotherly figure until he acknowledges that it is romantic. After that acknowledgment, he'll start giving you more affection.

At first, his behavior seems cute. Smiling more widely at little gestures, treasuring gifts or moments together. But as time passes, he wants more. Just a little gift or just a little moment is enough for him to subsist on, but not sustain him.

This Gepard is clingy. He'll hold your hand for longer periods of time and hug you from behind while whispering for you to stay beside him.

He knows his strength, he knows he can protect you. So if he fails, then he's left with a choice. Does he ensure your safety for good, or does he chance a similar danger finding you? The choice is obvious, so he opts to confine you to a room. He's there whenever he's not working, but it's still a lonely situation.

If you let him he'll gladly sleep beside you. At night he takes a moment to study your features, he may kiss the tips of hair, or press his lips to your forehead affectionately.

If you try to escape when you're isolated he will bind you to the room or transfer you to a cage. He wants you to trust him unconditionally, but his desire to protect you outweighs his desire to be unconditionally adored. At least in his cage you are with him.

Essentially to avoid the worst end with this one, you'd have to avoid danger completely or manage to hide you were in danger. Though considering his station, it would be difficult to hide being in danger from him.

Submissive Yan!Gepard

Major golden retriever energy. He would do anything for you if you asked him. He'd let you use him as a staircase or get rid of your problems.

Whenever he's with you he's happy. He smiles and waits for your praise when he's done something for you. Of course, this is a side only you see. Others are only familiar with the collected and reasonable Gepard who makes decisions at critical moments.

When he cuddles you he nuzzles into you and thanks you for holding him so gently. He'd let you do anything to him if it made you happy. Naturally, he'd be flustered by anything intimate.

[illuminatedquill]

Sabine Wren x Ezra Bridger

Sabine, From a Certain Point of View

Story Summary: A collection of short stories about Sabine Wren from the viewpoints of different people in her life, all of them noting a peculiar change happening within the young woman. Takes place during Ezra's ten year absence and the events of the Ahsoka series.

Author's Note: I know I said that Sparring Session would be coming out but then I had this idea for a fic appear and I needed to write it immediately. I don't know when Sparring Session will be out, but I hope you all like this one in it's place.

@sabezraweek - Prompt: Then and Now

Governor Ryder Azadi

Azadi liked to take a stroll through the streets of Lothal's capital when the politics became too heavy to deal with.

Sometimes, he would visit the local market and just sit on a bench somewhere and just . . . soak in the vibrancy and life of all the people moving about. It was a quiet reminder of what was really important when the squabbling New Republic senators threatened to make him feel nostalgic for the Empire.

Other times, he stopped at the various food stalls, marveling at the steady surge of new vendors, species, and cultures. He talked with them, welcomed the merchants to the city, and listened to their stories, their grievances, and asked about their lives.

Regardless of where his stroll through the capital took him, it always ended in one place: the Wall of Heroes. It was a mural, depicting the legendary Ghost crew, who were instrumental in the defense and liberation of Lothal from the Empire.

And, most importantly, they were personal friends of Azadi. He made it a point to visit the mural whenever his schedule allowed.

It was early evening when he arrived - only to find that he was not alone.

Sabine Wren was also there. He almost didn't recognize her without the customary Mandalorian armor on; she wore a customized flight jacket, vibrant red tunic, form fitting combat pants and the boots to match.

Her hair was a new shade of deep purple and the edges, dyed a dusk orange, now reached just slightly past her shoulders.

She was turned away from him, arms crossed, looking at the mural.

Azadi cleared his throat. "Sabine? Is that you?"

Sabine stirred from some deep reverie and turned around. "Hey, Ryder."

I always forget how young she really is, thought Ryder. He knew her history: the losses and sacrifices. Sabine was barely into her twenties.

So much tragedy at such a young age. He was no stranger to it himself, but at least the benefit of it being stretched out over a longer period meant he had the time to process it properly.

Sabine was born into the war. And now it was over. He wondered what would come next for her.

Azadi walked over to her and gazed at the mural. "Surprised to see you here, Sabine."

She shrugged. "Nowhere else to be, at the moment."

His stomach sank. Way to be forgetful, old man, he thought, bitterly.

"I'm sorry," he said, quietly. "There's no excuse - I shouldn't have forgotten what happened to Mandalore. Your family."

Sabine replied, "You've been busy running a whole sector. I get it. Wish I could forget." Her tone was light, but her expression was strained.

He looked around. "I don't see Ahsoka here. I figured you would be staying with her."

Azadi had heard rumors that the Jedi Knight had taken Sabine on as an apprentice. Something about Sabine's sudden reappearance on Lothal told him that wasn't true . . . or, at least, not anymore.

Sabine's face became an empty, neutral mask. Tonelessly, she said, "That won't be happening."

"I see," said Azadi. He sensed that he was treading near dangerous territory and changed the subject. "So you'll be staying on Lothal, then?"

"If that's alright."

Azadi snorted. "You're a war hero, Sabine. You're more than welcome to make this your home."

"Thanks." He could hear the relief in her voice. Sabine hesitated, then asked, "Is Lothalnet comm tower E-272 still available?"

Azadi blinked at the young woman. But she wasn't looking at him; she was looking at the mural again.

He followed her line of sight and realized she was staring at the image of Ezra Bridger, fellow Ghost crewmate and her best friend.

Azadi knew the two had been close . . . but there was something haunted in her eyes this time. Something new burned there.

"Ezra's old watchtower," he murmured.

She nodded.

"It is," he said. "Free of charge, for you. I made sure it was never disturbed after . . . after he left."

There was a tightening around her eyes. "He's still out there, Ryder," she snarled.

Azadi almost took a step back, surprised by her sudden tone.

"Of course. I didn't mean to imply otherwise," replied Azadi, cautiously. "You can move in whenever you want."

Sabine seemed to catch herself and took a deep breath. After a moment, she hung her head and said quietly, "Thank you." There was a pause and then she added, "I already moved in yesterday with all my stuff, by the way."

"Of course you did," said Azadi, wryly.

They both stared at the mural for a few quiet moments.

"Sabine, I'm sorry . . . about everything." It seemed such an insignificant gesture in the face of everything the young woman was facing.

He wanted badly to give Sabine a hug, but something in her demeanor told him that it would be unwelcome.

Azadi opted instead to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and then moved towards the exit. Sabine nodded at him in reply and then stepped away to the mural.

She was still there as he looked back one last time, feeling worried.

One hand was up, touching the face of Ezra's image; there was an intimacy in the way she was doing it and Azadi - for the briefest of seconds - felt like a voyeur, watching something he shouldn't be.

The other hand was down by her side.

It was, he noted with concern, curled into a tight fist.

Hera Syndulla

The cafe Sabine chose to meet at had a cozy, hole-in-the-wall aesthetic that Hera immediately liked; the server, a fellow Twi'lek woman, young, with a bright, lively face smiled at her and sat her down at a table outside under the shade of a veranda.

Hera ordered her usual blend of caf and waited for Sabine to arrive.

The young woman in question arrived several minutes later, dressed in a mechanic's jumpsuit that was smudged with oil and grease stains. Her hair, frazzled and sticking out in odd spots, was surprisingly clean despite her overall appearance.

She's growing it out, Hera noted. Sabine had always kept her hair short, purely for practical reasons.

Not anymore it seems.

Hera stood and gave Sabine a firm hug and then took a proper look at her. It had been months since they had last seen each other.

"You look terrible," said Hera.

Sabine grinned. "Back at you."

Hera snorted . . . and then nodded in reluctant agreement. The New Republic had been running her ragged since the War's end; she'd been engaged in extended clean-up operations, helping to push back the Imperial Remnant further and further away from the Core World Systems.

"I just want to sleep for a year," she admitted.

The server arrived with Hera's caf. She nodded at Sabine. "Your usual?"

Sabine replied, "Yup. Thanks, Des."

Hera blew at her caf and took a sip. It was heavenly; far better than the usual New Republic military standard sludge that she regularly consumed.

She held back a groan. "Nice place you chose. This caf is to die for."

"Yeah. Ezra told me about it a while back. Wanted to take me here, someday."

Hera glanced at Sabine, hiding it behind another sip of sweet, dark caf. At the mention of Ezra, she noted how Sabine's became a mask, completely devoid of emotion, despite the light tone of her voice.

She thought about the reason why this meeting was happening; specifically, because of what was sitting in her jacket pocket.

Ezra's holo-disc. A private recording containing a message solely for Sabine. She had found it tucked away in a secret place onboard the Ghost, during a routine maintenance check.

Hera also knew that Sabine had a recent falling out with Ahsoka. She wasn't sure why; the Jedi Knight had kept those reasons to herself, frustratingly.

But she had given a warning to Hera about Sabine.

Beware her heart, Hera.

Despite her better judgment, Hera still wanted to give Sabine the holo-disc. She deserved that much.

Whether it would be a gift or a burden . . . well, that was up to Sabine.

Sabine's order - a steaming mug of hot chocolate - arrived from Des. She thanked the server and blew at it.

Hot chocolate. Ezra's favorite. Hera felt her heart squeeze at the sight.

She misses you, Ezra. And so do I.

"I assume you didn't want to meet just to stare at me, Hera," said Sabine, dryly.

Hera started, feeling guilty at being caught. "Just admiring the new look you've got going."

Sabine scoffed. "Covered in grease and oil? Yeah, it's all the rage these days. Gotta stay in fashion."

Hera rolled her eyes. "I meant the hair."

"Oh." Sabine leaned back and sipped at her hot chocolate. "Thought I'd try something new." There was a casual slant to her statement that told Hera she was being evasive.

Hera said, "I remember Ezra sketching you, once upon a time. He had one where you had longer hair."

Sabine looked away. "Is that so?" she murmured.

"Yeah." Hera peered at her, but couldn't see the young woman's eyes to gauge . . . no, she was mistaking it. It couldn't be. "He told me it was his favorite sketch of you. Did you ever see it?"

Sabine shrugged, still not looking directly at Hera. "Don't recall."

Yeah, right. You regularly raided his stuff whenever you needed something, like any older sister would do. No way you didn't peek at his sketchbook.

"Hmmm," said Hera. "Anyway, I came here to give you this." She reached into her pocket and placed Ezra's holo-disc onto the table.

Sabine arched an eyebrow. "Gee, you shouldn't have."

Hera, ignoring the sarcastic remark, explained, "I found it on the Ghost during a recent maintenance check. It was tucked away safe and tight."

She paused, looking seriously at Sabine, before continuing, "I don't want you to think that I was hiding this from you. The moment I found out what it was, I cleared my schedule to get it here to you."

Sabine's expression turned wolf-like; there was a ravenous glint in the young woman's eyes that made Hera feel uncomfortable.

"Hera, what is this?" she quietly. But Hera could tell that she had already guessed at it.

Without saying a word, Hera pressed the button to play Ezra's message.

She just watched Sabine, not really listening to Ezra's words; Hera had already re-watched it dozens of times herself, just to verify that it was really him.

And also so she could hear Ezra's voice again.

That ravenous glint in Sabine's eyes grew sharper; as she listened, her face became transposed into something approaching agony.

Hera had met with refugees from the Empire's atrocities on other worlds. Their eyes and faces had the same hollowed out expression and starving look that Sabine now exhibited.

The message finished playing. Neither of them said anything for a long moment, both just staring at the recording.

With a shaking hand, Sabine reached out to take the holo-disc. She clutched it to her chest, bent over; the young woman's shoulders shook intensely with . . . grief, Hera supposed, was maybe the closest word she could think of.

Hera finished her caf, letting Sabine work through it in silence. When she was finally composed, Hera said, softly, "You heard him. He's counting on you."

Sabine's grasp on the holo-disc turned into a vise, her hand becoming a claw over the device. Her eyes radiated a fire that Hera had never seen before.

"Yes," Sabine said in an ominous tone. "He is."

Beware her heart, Hera, warned Ahsoka.

I might have made a mistake in giving her this, she thought. But what's done is done.

Hera's last memory of Sabine as she left was the young woman hunched over the table, watching the recording again with an odd sheen in her eyes - and she was reminded of the pictures from storybook tales of dragons from her youth.

How they coveted their precious hoards of gold and treasure.

How they burned all who threatened to take it away.

Ahsoka Tano

"She's off-world? You're certain?" asked Ahsoka, speaking to the hologram of Governor Ryder Azadi.

The older man nodded. "We're certain. You won't be running into her."

Ahsoka was relieved. "Thank you, Azadi."

"Of course." He hesitated and Ahsoka sensed his consternation.

"Is there a reason why you two aren't together anymore?" he asked.

Ahsoka crossed her arms, thinking. "Yes."

"Ah, okay. Is that something you're willing to share?"

"No."

Azadi deflated, but said, "Look, Ahsoka. I understand if it's Jedi business, but this is Sabine we're talking about. We're all worried about her."

You should be, thought Ahsoka. And more.

"How often has she been taking these trips?" she asked, changing the subject.

Azadi pursed his lips, clearly annoyed. "It's not consistent. Sometimes she doesn't leave for months; then, all of a sudden, she's there and back again five times in a single week."

Ahsoka tapped her fingers. "Chasing down leads on Ezra."

"Yes," Azadi agreed. "Hera has also been reaching out with her concerns. She says Sabine's been putting inquiries out to the New Republic military, calling in favors."

He leaned forward, eyes intense. "It's drawing attention from some of the higher-ups in the Security Council. I'm doing what I can to deflect it away from her, but Sabine isn't going to stop digging."

Ahsoka sighed. Hera had told her about the decision to hand over Ezra's message, despite Ahsoka's warning.

"Ahsoka, you might be the only one who can reach out to her," urged Azadi.

"Not the only one," the Jedi Knight replied, pointedly.

Azadi sighed. "The only one here, right now. Ezra is gone."

She grimaced. Much as she wanted to rein in her wayward former Padawan, Sabine had made it clear that they were done in their last conversation.

"I can't. It would probably do more harm than good if I talked to her. Sabine has to work through this herself."

"Well, then, why are you here on Lothal if not to check up on her? She's losing herself to this obsession with Ezra."

"I know she's losing herself," said the Jedi. "I want to know if she's lost."

Huyang carefully maneuvered the T-6 shuttle next to Ezra's watchtower and opened the docking ramp in front of the balcony. Ahsoka made the short jump with ease and landed lightly.

Her comm-link beeped at her. "Shall I wait for you below, Lady Tano?" asked Huyang.

"Yes, thank you," she replied.

The droid obliged her and parked the shuttlecraft onto a nearby clearing. Ahsoka turned to the doorway leading inside and braced herself before entering.

The first thing she noticed was the echoes of strong emotions emanating through the Force; waves of grief, roiling pockets of resentment and failure, with some small starbursts of joy and clarity peppered in between.

The second thing she noticed, as she focused her eyes in the dim lighting, was the mess. It was everywhere.

Mess was not unusual for Sabine, but this was beyond even her usual chaotic organization. It looked like a gundark had run rampant in the small, but cozy inner area of the watchtower, scattering debris everywhere.

Texts, notes, various star maps with scribbles on them; datapads with reams of information regarding anything about the migratory patterns of puurgils; bits and bobs of various machinery in different stages of disassembly, along with the discarded tools next to them.

And . . . there were sketches of Ezra. Not as how Ahsoka remembered him, but what looked like Sabine's vision of how he might look at his current age, or even older.

Ahsoka sighed and crossed her arms. Her former Padawan was sinking fast into her obsession with Ezra. Faster than even she could have imagined.

A soft mewling sounded from her feet. She looked down and found a loth-cat, peering up at her.

The Jedi Knight smiled. "Well, hello there little one." She reached down to pet it. The loth-cat purred its approval, rubbed against her leg in thanks and skittered off into the darkness.

"Looks reasonably healthy," observed the Jedi. "It can't be all bad if Sabine still takes the time to take care of you."

Her comm-link chirped. "How does it look, Lady Tano?"

"Not good, Huyang. Sabine's gone much farther than I anticipated."

The droid sighed. "When it comes to Ezra, we should have known better."

"It's dangerous," countered Ahsoka. "She's already attracting attention from the New Republic."

"For her, that is of little consequence."

Ahsoka grimaced. Stepping over to a work table, she looked at one of the sketches of Ezra - longer hair with a beard. No longer the earnest teenager she remembered, Sabine now envisioned a handsome, young man with serious, if slightly sad eyes.

She reached out to grab the art of Ezra to get a closer eye on the details; it was amazingly accurate work, even for Sabine -

Ahsoka jerked back her hand. The artwork burned through the Force; touching it had been akin to putting her hand into an open flame.

She knew of few emotions that could evoke such a powerful response.

This was Sabine and Ezra. She knew how close Sabine had been to Ezra before he disappeared with Thrawn to unknown parts of the galaxy.

Time - and countless more tragedies - it seemed had sharpened those feelings into something more.

"Huyang, I'm done here. Power up the engines."

"At once, Lady Tano. Have you made your decision?"

Ahsoka glanced around the empty watchtower, feeling that raw emotion permeate everything around her. How blind I've been.

Do you know Sabine? Do you know what's really driving you now?

"I can't help her. But I can prevent her from going further down this path."

"How?" asked the droid.

"We pick up the search ourselves and beat her to Ezra." She headed to the balcony. The shuttlecraft appeared, the docking ramp extended. "Do we know the last location of Thrawn's associate? Morgan Elsbeth?"

"New Republic intelligence has her listed as a magistrate on the planet Corvus, in the city of Calodan. I shall set in the coordinates."

Ahsoka jumped onto the ramp and looked back at Ezra's watchtower where her former Padawan now resided.

She wondered how many lonely nights Sabine spent in there, working away on some new thread of information about Ezra's whereabouts.

Moving into Ezra's old home. There's two ghosts living there now.

As the T-6 shuttle moved away to head into orbit, she saw the loth-cat perched in the doorway, staring back at her curiously.

Ahsoka called out to it. "Take care of her for me!"

The loth-cat just cocked its head. She smiled and went to join Huyang in the cockpit.

Settling in, she said, "The race is on."

"Sabine has quite the lead on us," Huyang pointed out.

Ahsoka engaged the hyperdrive. "I'm not a good loser, Huyang. And this is one race we need to win."

She threw the throttle back - and the stars streamed into hyperspace.

Shin Hati

The prisoner was loud for the entire trip to Peridea. Shin could sense that even her master, Baylan Skoll, was cultivating his former training as a Jedi to maintain patience.

Most of the guards began to stay away from her, as ordered by Morgan Elsbeth. “She is no threat without the Force,” she observed. “Leave her be.”

Shin had scoffed at Elsebeth’s assessment of Wren’s abilities, only to receive a glare from her master in reprimand.

Elsbeth hasn’t faced her in battle like I have, thought Shin. She doesn’t know how capable Wren is.

True, Shin had bested her the first time they had fought - but it had been much closer than she was anticipating. The Jedi, untrained as she was, fought bravely.

And Wren had survived. Their most recent battle had seen her skills improve dramatically in the short time since then, forcing Shin into a draw.

It was the most fun she'd had trying to kill someone in a long time.

You are an interesting one, Sabine Wren, she thought. I wonder what makes you fight so hard.

Shin fingered the lightsaber on her belt - not her own design, but the one wielded by Wren.

Or maybe, she thought, a wicked smile forming, it's who makes you fight.

Shin found the prisoner silent as she entered the brig. Peering through the opening of Wren's cell, she saw her laying back on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

"Finally tired yourself out from screaming at every passing person?" Shin called.

Wren jerked out of her reverie. "Oh, it's you," she said, grumpily. "Are we there yet?"

Shin replied, "I'm afraid not."

The Jedi sighed and turned away from her. "Then go away."

Shin ignited Wren's lightsaber, admiring the green-white blade that blazed into existence.

Wren whirled into a combat stance with surprising speed. Her eyes widened with surprise. "What are you doing?" she asked, suspicion heavy in her question.

Shin closed the lightsaber down. "Green is an interesting choice. It matches you well, now that I think about it more, but I envisioned you with a violet coloring. Suits you better."

Wren stared at her. "It's not mine. Holding on to it for a friend."

Shin arched an eyebrow. "So casual about it. But your feelings betray you. A Jedi's weapon is their life." She leaned in close, eyes wide with interest. "This 'friend' just gave it to you?"

She nodded. "Interesting," replied Shin. "He gave his life to you."

Shin lifted the lightsaber, gripped tightly with both hands - and began to snap it in half, drawing on the Force for extra strength.

"What a waste," she sneered.

A flash of motion - and then Shin found herself being choked. Wren had flew across the cell with ferocious speed, slipped an arm through the opening, and was now strangling her.

"Let it go," Wren snarled. Her eyes burned with dark, venomous rage. "Let it go!"

Shin's vision began to pulse and fade into black. She dropped the lightsaber.

Wren didn't stop. Her grip only tightened.

Shin grabbed her lightsaber, activated it, and made to slash down at the hand gripping her throat with what strength she had left.

Wren jerked back just in time.

Shin collapsed backward, gasping for air, hating the retching sounds escaping from her throat.

She looked back at Wren in the cell. There was no sense of victory or gloating from her.

Just a cold stare that sent a sliver of fear racing through Shin's heart for a moment. Indignant rage filled her a moment later - how dare this would-be Jedi make her feel scared, powerless!

She stumbled to her feet, preparing to open the cell door and cut Wren down here and now -

"Enough," came a stern voice.

Shin looked to the source. It was her master, Baylan Skoll.

"Master - did you see what she - ", she started, stumbling over the words, but Baylan cut her off.

"I saw enough, my young apprentice," Baylan snapped. "I saw her almost kill you. Have you had your fill of embarrassment tonight?"

Shin's face twisted with more anger, but she didn't move.

"Pick up the lightsaber and come with me,” Baylan said with a sigh. He called to Wren. "My apologies. I made you a promise."

Wren didn't acknowledge him. She simply fixed a grim smile at Shin. "Keep your apprentice on a shorter leash next time," she said.

Shin stared at her. "I'll kill you," she replied, softly.

Wren retorted, "You'll try."

"Shin!" called her master, sounding annoyed. "Come, now."

Shin finally obeyed her master. Walking the corridor together, she whispered, "I thought she barely had any Force sensitivity? How is she strong; so fast?"

Baylan glanced at his apprentice. "It's not the Force she's drawing on for strength."

Shin frowned, massaging at her bruised throat. "Then what is it?" she asked.

Baylan said, "Something, in my opinion, that is far more unpredictable and dangerous. You crossed a line with her. Don't do it again."

Shin looked at Wren's lightsaber in her hand, remembering the flash of pure rage.

And something more significant behind it . . . giving the fuel to burn.

She looked back at her master, starting to understand. Baylan nodded. "Now, you begin to see. Rage, fear, sadness, joy - all of them are born from the same emotion."

Shin almost felt sorry for her. "She's consumed by it."

"Yes," Baylan agreed. "It gives her tremendous power and drive, but it also blinds her. Now go get some treatment for that bruise."

Shin rubbed at her throat, wincing at the pain.

But, in reality, it was a small inconvenience compared to what Wren had to be feeling. She'd heard stories from her master about Jedi who succumbed to temptation like Wren did.

She shivered, suddenly feeling grateful that Wren was locked away in a cell.

Not for her protection. For everyone else's.

Ezra Bridger

It didn't take long for Ezra to notice Sabine begin to stumble while helping the Noti move their belongings. He could sense her fatigue through the Force, seeping into him, making him feel stretched thin.

After watching her trip over nothing for the third time, he walked up to her. "I think you should rest, Sabine."

"I can't - no time. We have to move." The lack of usual snark and fire in her reply confirmed his suspicions.

"You can barely walk. I'll handle the rest. Been doing it myself these past ten years, anyway."

The lance of guilt that pierced him through the Force almost elicited a gasp of pain; Sabine looked away, but there was no mistaking the wetness in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ezra," she mumbled.

He had a feeling it wasn't just for being unable to help with the Noti. Ezra's heart cracked a little more; he'd been catching more glimpses of something off about his old friend.

More than once, he'd caught her staring at him or sneaking glances when she thought he wasn't looking. Sabine also never drifted too far away from him either, always making sure she could see him.

It's like she wants to make sure I'm still here, he thought. That I won't disappear again.

And there was the matter of her being secretive about how she found him. Sabine had never been the most open about her inner thoughts and feelings but whatever she was hiding this time was big; it hid in a corner of her mind, like a rancor hiding in the shadows of a cave.

It worried him. A lot.

But he pushed those worries aside for the moment. "It's okay, really. You've had a long trip. Go rest."

Sabine breathed deep and nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

He led her to an empty hut and helped her into the cot. "Not much in the way of pillows, I'm sorry."

"It's alright," she replied. "Cozier than the ride I hitched over here."

Ah. So she didn't travel with Ahsoka or Hera.

The pit of dread inside his stomach grew larger. He ignored it.

"I'll wake you up once we finish. Should be a couple more hours," he said.

He turned to leave - and felt a tug on his sleeve; Sabine was grabbing his arm.

She seemed surprised to see herself holding on to him. Ezra looked at her. "You okay?"

"You'll be here, right? When I wake up?" Her question was barely a whisper, but it was spoken with well-aged fear and anxiety.

Oh, Sabine.

He wondered what had happened to her in the long ten years apart from each other. He leaned down and held her hand. "I'll be the first thing you see, I promise."

The smile she gave was so pure; it kindled something in Ezra's heart - feelings he thought had been successfully buried long ago.

No. No, now was not the time.

"Okay. Good night, Ezra."

"Actually," he replied, "it's technically morning. I think. Never did get the hang of time over here."

Sabine snorted. "Whatever. Whenever you go to sleep is night time."

Ezra laughed. Now that was the Sabine he remembered.

He stayed by her side until her breathing slowed and felt her mind clear into dreamless sleep.

Reaching over, he gently moved a stray strand of hair across her forehead.

I left and you stayed the same, he thought.

Or did she?

He thought of how easily they slipped into old habits during their reunion.

Ezra knew he wasn't the same person after he left. He wondered what had happened to Sabine.

She's a survivor. She can survive anything.

He had made the gamble that she could survive even the loss of him.

Looking down at her sleeping form, he suddenly wasn't so sure. And the thought filled him with heart-ache.

"Good night, Sabine," he said, softly.

He couldn't bear the thought of Sabine doing something reckless to get here . . . but, no. He trusted her with everything when he left.

She wouldn't let him down. Not Sabine. Not with so much at stake.

Ezra gazed softly at Sabine, and cursed his heart; there was still a wriggling worm of doubt burrowing in there.

There would be plenty of time to find out later. They were together again.

Ezra left Sabine to her sleep.

Whatever Sabine was hiding from him, they would face it together.