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#look ive been to a lot of galaxies

andypantsx3 · 2 months

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𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 : 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: 1.7k of unedited alien prince shouto thoughts based on this post from the other day! sfw, gender neutral reader. several elements of this universe were borrowed from my fave sci-fi novel; see end notes for deets!

he's beautiful—the todoroki prince. tall and strong in his high-collared uniform, strapped with lean muscle and handsomely humanoid. he's the first thing that snares your gaze as your party is guided into the hall of the sun—the reception dome that overlooks the rise of the star yuuei in the morning sky, used by the ruling family to receive visiting dignitaries.

it is morning, in endeavorian planetary time, and the sun has begun to rise. its light is weaker than you remember from back home—almost watery, pooling like quicksilver in the panes of the dome's ceiling.

up at the front of the hall, it catches in the strands of the white half of the prince's hair. from what izuku has told you, it's the half that indicates he's part of the himura bloodline. the himura dynasty has ruled the yuuei system from its capital planet of endeavor iv for tens of thousands of earth-years. it's the second longest line of unbroken rulers in mapped galactic history, an impressive feat.

the other half of the prince's hair is a fiery red, like that of the man who stands next to him—todoroki enji, the general of intergalactic renown, who donated half of prince shouto's genome as well as his clan name. each time a himuran royal from the main line marries, izuku had explained, talking at lightspeed in the podship, they take a branch name, typically sourced from the primary gene-donator. it helps keep inheritance lines clear.

prince shouto looks like he's inherited empress rei and todoroki enji's genes in exactly half—his coloring split down the middle, though his features are perfectly, almost hauntingly symmetrical. he wears a pin of flint at his collar that symbolizes his gender—one of yuuei's thirteen official designations. from what you understand from izuku, it most closely aligns with earth designation "man".

it's embarrassing how much you notice about the prince as you file into the hall, stationing yourself right at the gap between izuku and tenya's shoulders, so you can still see todoroki shouto.

"you don't think they'll reject the treaty and kill us all, do you?" denki mumurs nervously as he presses in behind you.

"no, i don't think so," izuku's gentle voice drifts back to you. he's a three-star ethnologist, studying for a command ethnology post. subsequently he's the most informed of any of the cadets that have been sent along with the treatise party. you and denki are just mechanics, sent along in case anything goes wrong.

"the alliance would be too much trouble for the yuuei," izuku explains. "they have good relations with the surrounding galaxies and tight control over a lot of resources. but the alliance is really large now, compared to the last time they approached the yuuei. they'll likely want to accept at least a loose federation with the allies."

up on the platform at the front of the hall, prince shouto blinks long and slow, like an earth cat. you realize with a start it's the first time you've seen him blink at all, and the subtle reminder that he is not just an extraordinarily handsome human man but the prince of an alien species makes your skin prickle.

"don't you think it's weird they are all this pretty?" denki asks. "it's weird, right?"

"definitely weird," you laugh, your eyes trailing over prince shouto's blade-straight nose, his pert, perfect mouth. "possibly illegal under intergalatic law."

prince shouto stills all of a sudden, and there is the tiniest tilt of his head. two heterochromatic eyes flick over your way, and you are completely embarrassed by the way your stomach swoops in response. you just manage not to grab onto tenya's uniform to steady yourself.

one of the prince's eyebrow arches almost imperceptibly, and you wonder if he's heard you from this distance—but no, that would be insane.

denki picks up his commentary, emboldened by your playing along. you think the prince's eyes linger just a little too long on the gap between izuku and tenya's shoulders, but then you're distracted by the reception beginning.

the alliance treaty officer strides forward, flanked by a few of the other officials your crew had ferried here. she performs an elaborate bow, as do the other officials. from izuku's muttering you gather it's some sort of ritualistic greeting, and empress rei at least looks pleased with it, waving a gentle hand to gesture the party forward.

there is some shuffling as various aides set up a table and a series of holo-tablets, along with various inks, a leathery roll of endeavorian traditional parchment, and—

"is that a knife?" you ask, peering at the long obsidian blade placed on the table in front of the officials.

izuku's fluffy head of green curls inclines. "treaties are sealed twice. once in the alliance fashion and then again in the local custom, to make it binding per both systems. blood pacts have been used in yuuei for millennia."

the brush of something over your face has your gaze turning back to the prince—to find him staring straight at you, those unblinking eyes boring into you.

"izuku, weird question. can the yuuei hear across rooms?" you ask, suddenly self-conscious.

a green eye peers back at you. "only in the event of their pair bonds—the yuuei are documented hearing their matepair across approximately ten earth-kilometers. i think we're safe over here though. why?"

matepair. the world settles strangely under your skin, as the prince's eyes brush across it.

"uh, matepair?" you echo.

tenya gives both you and izuku a quelling look, but it's not enough to deter izuku from ducking down to explain in slightly quieter tones. "the yuuei look human but they pair differently. they form a parapsychic bond with only a single partner, which they maintain and uphold for life. it's not just cultural—it's like a physical compulsion. they cannot take another pair, and they cannot be separated for long periods or they grow sick."

prince shouto is still staring straight at you, and it's not quite comforting enough to know that he cannot possibly hear you.

it's only his role in the ceremony that seems to eventually break the prince's weird focus in your direction. he steps forward to perform his duty as empress rei's chosen heir. you almost flinch as the knife draws across the pale skin of his palm, and he adds several drips of silvery blood to the parchment, symbolizing yuuei's intent to uphold the treaty across future monarchs.

the flesh of his palm knits itself back together in seconds, and another little shiver goes up your spine. those mismatched eyes flash back your way as he steps back, and the various aides and officials once again converge on the documents.

there is a brief flurry of activity, various bows and oaths, some stilted endeavorian verse. the chief treaty officer looks relieved when it's all over, and the royal family steps down from the dais to greet the rest of the visiting party, as is the customary honor granted to allies to the yuuei. tenya ushers you into the queue near the back with denki, a symbol of your lower status as mechanics.

you don't mind, as the thought of reaching prince shouto has your stomach doing what feel like backflips in your gut. the longer the delay the better.

izuku had walked everyone through the appropriate greetings on the podship, a few murmured words and a hand touch at chest-level—extremely hard to mess up, even for you. but nevertheless your pulse kicks up the closer you draw to the royal family.

there's a long line of them you greet first. offshoot branch members, then general todoroki enji, whose enormous palm burns hot against yours and who looks he'd rather take your party's hands off than touch them. then rei's unchosen heirs—the princess fuyumi, prince natsuo—and a gap where prince touya would have stood, were he not offworld.

and then you're standing in front of prince shouto, your pulse pounding in your ears. he's extremely tall up close, clearing six feet easily, broad across the shoulders and handsome in a way that almost makes your teeth ache. the yuuei look deceptively human, but this near you can see the tiny details that separate them from you—the slight double-point to their ears, the silvery undertone to their skin, the prolonged space between their breaths and their blinks.

and of course their inhuman beauty. they don't quite look like regular people, and it sparks a tiny note of wariness in the primeval part of your human hindbrain.

prince shouto's mismatched eyes pin you, silver and blue, as a sudden, silvery flush creeps across his face. you hold your hand out in greeting, trying not to wonder if you've somehow managed to offend him already—but instead of pressing his palm against yours, his long fingers suddenly grasp yours, clasping tightly.

beyond him, empress rei freezes too. all at once you can feel every single himuran noble turn to look at you, hundreds of eyes pinning on you.

reflexively, words tumble out of you. "shit did i—what did i do? were you supposed to get a different hand thingy?"

you can hear the treaty officer's horrified inhale at the terms shit and hand thingy, deployed in crass galactic standard in front of a literal prince. you immediately wish you could take them back, but from the look on the prince's face, he's already heard them.

something at the corner of his mouth twitches, like he's trying not to smile.

"y/n," he says, in a deep tone. it's crisply accented and just as beautiful as the rest of him.

it takes you a second to realize prince shouto has used your name, which he could not possibly know considering the uniform you'd been issued for the yuuei visit has no unique identifiers on it. you glance down at yourself, then back up at him, befuddled.

"how did you—? where did you—?" you garble out. "did denki put you up to this? how do you know me?"

prince shouto's fingers smooth over yours, delightfully warm, calloused and sure. "i would know you in any universe," he says, voice soft. behind you, you hear princess fuyumi make a tiny sound of delight.

you blink. "universe? what—uh, what universe? how would you—?"

but shouto leans in, tugging you closer with those deceptively strong fingers. he's so very warm up close, and so beautiful it makes your brain short circuit, especially as he lowers his face to yours. a shiver rolls down your spine as his other hand takes you gently by the chin.

and then he murmurs a single word before pressing his mouth to yours—

"matepair."

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: credits where they are due!! the idea of a space general dna donator, an overarching space alliance pursuing a treaty, & the flint pin denoting gender were taken from my fave sci-fi novel winter's orbit by everina maxwell! (if you love heartfelt gay love stories in space i am actually begging you to read it).

#todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x you #todoroki x you

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

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hii i love love how u write spencer omds🥸

uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song “we’ll never have sex” by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btw😭😭😭 hope ur having a good day lovely💗💗

hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!

warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending

You weren’t expecting to end up on Spencer Reid’s worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you haven’t been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for that—but you try to push those from your mind.

“I’m really sorry about this,” you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup.

“Please, stop apologizing.”

You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. He’s clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. He’s already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses.

“So...” he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, “we don't have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to, but...”

You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy.

“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t really think, I just... ended up here.”

“Yeah... where did you come from?” he laughs quietly. “Not that I’m complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.”

“No, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.”

“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. “At two in the morning?” You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug.

“I’m taking it that it wasn’t a very good date...?”

A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks.

“No it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...” you laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “Well, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didn’t want to sleep with him.”

You don’t look to see Spencer’s reaction—only take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence.

“I’m really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.”

An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat.

“Yeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns I’ve gone on dates with. It’s the same thing every time.”

“Have you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?” The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek.

“It’s not just them. Every single guy I’ve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until you’re in a relationship, and suddenly they’re guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...” you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathy—you look away, not sure you even want to know what he’s thinking. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since I’ll clearly be single forever I’m considering running away to join a nunnery.”

When he doesn’t respond for too long, you look back up quizically.

“I’m not sure you know what romance actually is,” he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box.

You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap.

Says Spencer Reid?

“...sorry?”

He flushes, stammering to clarify himself.

“I just meant—I—I know I’m not exactly fighting women off with a stick—” he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laugh— “but... but I have been in love, at least once.”

“Maeve,” you say, gently—trying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous you’d been when Spencer had first told you about her. “I remember.”

He swallows and nods.

“We never even met—we just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didn’t matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadn’t been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasn’t the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.” You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong.

“What I’m trying to say is that romance isn’t solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like you’ve been with a lot of men who don’t understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. You’re funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.”

More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. “Please don’t cry, I wasn’t--I was trying to do the opposite of this.”

“No, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to—you didn’t—I’m sorry. That was way too nice.”

But you're not crying because he was nice.

Someone will love you, but not me. That’s all you can hear.

His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks.

“I meant every word.”

You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You can’t be looking at his face when you say what you’re about to say.

“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.”

Ringing silence. But it doesn’t last as long as you’d imagined. It’s not as world ending.

“Had?”

The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart.

“Yeah. You know what changed?”

“What’s that?”

Absolutely nothing.

“Every time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, you’d just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didn’t like me and I gave up.”

Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes.

“You thought I didn’t like you because I didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?”

“Pretty much.” You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. “God, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.”

“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?”

You sniff, looking to the ceiling.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It was really sweet.”

More silence.

“But you don’t believe it.”

A bitter laugh poisons the air around you.

“I don’t know. I’m kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but there’s no evidence to support it, and I know logically you’re probably right but I can’t help wondering if... if I’m the outlier. Maybe there just isn’t someone for me like that. Maybe I’m just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.”

A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head.

“Wow, I am so sorry,” you say a little too loudly, “I did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?”

“You are not the outlier,” Spencer whispers.

You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him.

“What?”

His voice shakes slightly as he speaks.

“You said you can’t help wondering if you’re the outlier, and maybe there just isn’t someone for you like that. That’s not true.”

“Spencer, those are just words. You can’t possibly know that. Statistical probabilities don’t count.”

“That’s... that’s not how I know.”

Your heart drops as you study his face.

No.

Surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying.

Surely he wouldn’t do this to you after you’ve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He can’t just spring this on you one night because you’re a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruel—something you’ve never known Spencer Reid to be.

You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation.

“Don’t do that. Don’t say things that you don’t mean just to make me feel better.”

“What are you doing? Don’t--”

You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you don’t need him to see what he’s done to you—to see how much you care what he thinks.

“It’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around—”

A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks

“Stop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?”

With nothing left to give, you turn to him.

“Don’t be mean, Spencer. Don’t act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.”

He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him it’s infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks.

“I’m not doing that. I’m being an idiot, because you just told me that you don’t feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didn’t and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.”

Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly it’s almost inaudible.

“You... you like me?”

“Yes,” Spencer sighs. “I have liked you for a very long time. And I’m sorry—”

Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you don’t give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than it’d ever been in your fantasies because it’s real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like you’re the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.

And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like he’s barely holding onto his self control. “You just want someone to comfort you, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachment—”

You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.

“Spencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.”

“You said you used to like me, past tense—”

“Yeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didn’t do it?”

“No, but—”

“Have you ever heard the phrase; a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?”

“Of course I have.”

“Then what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?”

Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you.

Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, you’re not exactly sure what. It’s like he’s extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what he’s looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks.

“I just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I don’t want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.”

“Well, don’t you think very highly of yourself,” you tease with a sniffle. He laughs—it's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you can’t remember why you’ve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is.

Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face.

“Spencer, I don’t like you because you like me. I’ve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.”

A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes.

“You never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.”

“Well... do you believe me?” you plead. His amber eyes shine.

“I do.”

“Will you kiss me?”

“If that’s what you want.”

You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway.

When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of it—as if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldn’t mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows that’s not what matters right now. Because he actually understands you—he actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.

To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“It would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldn’t it?” he whispers, like it’s the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he won’t be able to say no to.

“Or... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films you’re always talking about?”

A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know you’ve said exactly the right thing.

“Nerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. небесная машина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950’s.”

“Oh, good. Because I’ve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950’s Russian villager,” you smile, already closing in to kiss him again.

------------------------------------------

epilogue

Three hours later, you’re crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950’s was so much worse than you’d previously thought.

“It was good, right?” Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where you’d been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes.

“It was terrible! Why didn’t you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!”

“Because that’s the whole point of the movie!” he laughs, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.”

“And also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.”

“You’re right,” he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. “Next time we can watch whatever you want to watch.”

Time passes like that—you in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and you’re happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention.

“Spencer?”

He hums, like he’d been deep in his own proverbial river of thought.

“What does pulchritude mean?”

It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair.

“Don’t worry about it.”

And so you let it float away.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

579 notes · View notes

lalacliffthorne · 9 months

Text

💜 starshine pt. III 💜

Rhysand x Reader

part I part II part III part IV part V part VI

notes: literally no summary possible without intense spoilers. you´ll probably be able to guess what this chapter entails by just like the first few sentences (btw, it's been ages since I read the books, so I'm working on a lot of creative freedom with this one lol). fair warning: this one's angsty. like I already mentioned, it's also insanely long. so. have fun? I guess?

______________________________________________________________

Slipping through the wards felt like a tingle of ice on my skin. My breath hitched, and for a second, I expected the mountain to cave in on me, squash me as it realized someone had breached the magic binding so many to its halls.

But nothing happened.

The servant fae's dress slipped up my thighs when I slid into the dark corridors. I had caught her when she had lingered too close to the wards, golden whisps of magic seeping through the bounds and engulfing her, catching her when she fell into a deep, dreamless slumber. I had swapped our clothes before hiding her floating body behind a glamour and slipping into the dark mountain.

Something closed around my throat lightly as I moved through the shadows, stilling every time I heard a sound.

Fifty years.

Fifty years of chipping away at the wards guarding the mountain, little by little so no one would notice the small growing hole in the thickly woven magic. Fifty years of trying to be everywhere at once, moving through the courts, healing those in need before slipping away before anyone could notice. Fifty years of faeries slaughtered in numbers becoming bigger and bigger, causing rage to grow slowly in my chest.

Fifty years of dreaming of violet eyes like night skies.

I remembered the day Amarantha had caught them all like it was yesterday.

I had been staying in the Day Court, and from one second to the next, the warm summer night had turned ice cold. A darkness had placed itself over the world, the faeries in the garden had disappeared and the glow of the flowers had dimmed. An icy shiver had run down my spine, and like instinct, I had reached out for Rhys, for that familiar feeling that was always not far from the bounds of my mind, the sharp claws that tickled my soul before the deep, rich voice echoed through my head, even when their owner was on the other side of Prythian.

But there had been nothing. No presence, not even when I had called out to him. Instead, there was a harsh wall, like something, or someone, was blocking him.

I had started looking for him the day after.

☆

Following the halls deeper into the mountain, I simply listened to the tug in my chest that pulled me forward, guiding me towards the hum of power. My own responded, slithering angrily under my skin, and I pushed it down, barricading it behind walls as high as the sky.

I had learned to hide the thrum of power flooding through me a long time ago. It was what kept me hidden in the courts, allowed me to exist without anyone bothering me.

Strangely enough, it had never kept Rhys from finding me, like even the way my powers were hidden was distinct enough for him to track me down. When I had brought it up once, he had just grinned so widely, his cheeks had creased as he replied: “Starshine, I would be able to find you on nothing but instinct even if you were galaxies away.”

Back then, it had made something skip softly against my ribs as I had thrown a pillow at his head.

Now, just the memory of his voice caused a strange ache in my chest.

Amarantha had taken Rhys away from his family, his home. And I was sure that the only reason he was playing her game, bowing to her, was to protect them.

If there was one thing I had learned about him in the past century, it was that his friends, his family and his home were everything to him. And that he would do anything to keep them safe.

Even give himself up.

The tight feeling in my chest shifted, like for a second, something scratched the surface, a familiar presence growing closer, and I breathed out soundlessly.

There was no way I was going to let her break him.

Not him.

☆

The whispers from Under the Mountain had been vague, but with time, they had started to paint a picture, blurred and hazy, but clear enough to know that Amarantha had a fable for lavish nights with wine and entertainment.

I had expected that entertainment to be cruel. I had spent the last fifty years trying to protect the faeries, for Amarantha seemed to have developed a taste for keeping them like animals, all while hearing rumors about the Fae trapped Under the Mountain, forced to bow to her will.

But what was awaiting me when I slipped through the doors into the huge cavernous hall, the stench of spirits hitting me and the air pressed from my lungs – was so much worse.

There were Fae everywhere, dressed in a way that left little to the imagination. Their gazes ranged from empty to forcingly amused to petrified, but their bodies moved like they were in a trance, not their own will causing them to dance, grind on each other and do more, in plain sight for all to see.

It felt like a sick, twisted stage play, orchestrated for nothing but the embarassement and torture of the courts and one single person's amusement, one person who loomed on a dais at the back wall, sitting on a throne, dressed from head to toe in blood red.

My eyes zeroed in, and my powers surged against the walls caging them in.

Amarantha had tipped her head to the side, her golden crown glittering in the light of the torches as she watched the spectacle at the foot of the dais. Her red hair flowed over her shoulders, her long nails tapping against the armrests. There was a light amused curve to her lips, but her eyes were cold and calculating.

Somehow reigning in the magic raging under my skin, I pressed my lips together and followed her piercing gaze, down to the steps leading up to the dais -

The wind got knocked out of my lungs.

The noises, the hall around me faded as something pulsed slowly against my ribs, my heart beating like the wings of a butterfly caught in time, trying to escape from my chest as my gaze narrowed in until it was centered on the male at the foot of the dais, a picture of lazy feline confidence so familiar, I had to fight for air.

Rhys.

Suddenly, fifty years caught up with me. Fifty years of his face burned into my mind, his smile and the way his violet eyes twinkled like a glittering night sky.

Only it was gone now. The spark in his iris, the vibrancy of his eyes. His dark hair, though still impeccably styled, had lost its shine, his sunkissed skin was pale and sallow, and his smile –

Something tightened so harshly in my chest, I held my breath.

Gone was the cheeky curve of his lips, the mischievous turn of his grin and that stupidly beautiful smile. It had been replaced by a light smirk, one that was cold and cruel and –

Didn't reach his eyes.

His smile had always reached his eyes. Even when it promised violence and bloodshed and broken bones, it always translated to the way his eyes looked, to the spark in his iris, angry or furious.

Only it didn't anymore.

I tried to swallow, fight against the way something closed around my throat when I stared at Rhys and his eyes, dull and unmoving as he gazed down onto the heap at his feet, a heap -

My breath stilled, and the grip around my throat changed to vice.

It was a sprite boy. A moonwing, with feathery white hair caked with dirt, milky pale skin torn and bloody over too-thin limbs, and his wings –

His wings.

A sound built at the bottom of my throat, a strangled whimper that was swallowed by the harsh noises around me. Something clawed at my chest, a pain so heavy I almost went to my knees as I stared at what used to be thin-as-lace wings, their white membranes hanging in bloody shreds over a whipmarked back.

Quickly clamping a shaking hand over my mouth to smother the heaving sob breaking from my throat, I almost sank into the wall, my body beginning to shake. I felt something hot run over my cheek as I stared at the faerie, swaying as he tried to get to his feet without the support of his wings. His pain was mine, his despair gripping me like an iron fist, my breath trembling as my vision blurred and I whimpered.

No.

Rhysand stilled. I could see his shoulders shift. Then his head rose, eyes tearing away from the moonwing to swiftly move over the crowd, and for nothing more than a second, a fraction of a heartbeat, something flashed through his eyes, something that was buried so deep, it was nearly impossible to make out.

Like somehow, he felt my anguish, could sense a presence in the crowd that didn't belong -

The guards at the edge of the dais moved, and Rhys blinked. Then his eyes moved away from the crowd, and his back straightened when a male stepped forward, staring hungrily at the moonwing.

There was a bloody whip hanging from his hand.

My heart tightened, lips parting as nausea washed over me like a tidal wave.

But before the male could take another step, Rhys moved. His motions were quick and smooth as always when he took a step forward and picked the moonwing up by his neck, and I could see the fairie's iridescent eyes flaring with panic as he started to struggle.

Then Rhys' hand closed around his jaw.

My heart stopped and my breath stilled when the crack of bones snapping whipped through the hall.

The moonwing's body went limp, head rolling to the side.

A muscle in Rhys' cheek twitched, his face unmoving as he let the faerie slip to the ground and raised his head, turning around. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the moonwing's lifeless body as the other male moved towards him with a scowl, gripping one of the fairie's shredded wings before he turned to drag him away from the dais and into the shadows, leaving behind a pool of blood on the stone floor.

Something hot streamed over my cheeks as I fought to breathe, and magic started to push against my skin, slowly growing until I had to keep all my focus on keeping it subdued.

My eyes rose, and a cold fist closed around my heart when Rhys sat down next to Amarantha. Her hand drifted towards him, her fingernails dragging lightly over his skin, and I could see the second his eyes clouded over like he had dragged up walls, high, high, higher as Amarantha whispered something with a smile like a viper.

Rhysand nodded once, eyes trained onto the crowd like it could hide the way his shoulders shifted like his body fought to move away.

It was all I needed to straighten my spine and breathe, something beginning to burn under my skin.

☆

I had slinked into the shadows when Amarantha had risen from her throne, Rhys following suit, though there was something in the way his eyes seemed to dull even more when he moved after her.

I lost them in the maze of halls a few times, but something, like a small tug in my chest, kept pulling me back onto the right path, like the golden whisps of magic swirling under my skin had latched onto Rhys, guiding me.

Slipping around a corner, I just caught a glimpse at a door closing. Waiting for a few moments, just to make sure, I slowly started to move, avoiding lanterns and melting into the shadows as I soundlessly slid down the hall until I could disappear into the alcoven right next to the door.

Pressing my back against the cold stone walls, I leaned my temple against the wall and focused on the noises slipping from the room.

For a second, my mind was slow, struggling to place the muffled sounds that seemed to be a female's, harsh and strangely drawn –

My heart stilled.

I could feel my breath, ragged as I stared at the wall ahead, something suddenly filling my throat like the urge to be sick, to stagger away from that door and what was behind it.

I was already half pushing away from the wall when the wave of emotion hit me like a brick. Like someone inside that room had slipped up, had lost control of what kept their feelings locked deep, deep down, because what they were doing right now was a struggle in itself, a struggle like having a hand around your throat that kept you from breathing.

I didn't know how I knew it was him. I just knew that the way his emotions vibrated under my skin, causing my knees to give out and my body to silently slide down the wall to collapse to the ground as I fought for air, was uniquely his.

Rhys was drowning.

I could feel it, feel the way his sense of self and his will to fight dwindled like they were slowly dragged under water. Overrun and fought to their knees by pain.

Pain that felt like ghostly fingernails running over his skin, like actions that broke apart pieces of him and caused guilt to drown him without his limbs fighting.

It was humiliation, and repulsion, and numbness. And fear.

Fear, so overwhelming and all-consuming, it wrapped around my throat like a rope, pulling tighter and tighter as I crouched frozen at the wall, tears streaming down my cheeks and something in my chest shattering silently as I squeezed my eyes shut.

I didn't know how I long I was sitting in the shadows, nor could I place the moment when Rhys' emotions slipped away like he had found the gap in his armor and patched it back up. But the remnants of them still clung to my chest, joining into a heaviness when I could hear movements behind the door.

Quickly and with shaking hands, I pulled myself to my feet, slipping back down the hall and into the shadows at the corner to the next, tear tracks cool against my cheeks when I watched the door open.

My heart stilled as I watched Amarantha appear in the hall, slipping her dress over her legs with a satisfied smile.

Something started swirling under my skin, growing with every second. Power, golden light that raged like fire, roaring and threatening to break free, to unleash and make the mountain collapse into itself as golden light wrapped around Amarantha's throat –

Swallowing, I forced it down with trembling hands.

Not like this.

It had taken years to gather enough information, barely any whispers trickling out of the mountain. Years to figure out that she had the High Lords under her control, chained to the mountain, all while her guards wreaked havoc on the lands outside. Courts withering, faeries dying.

The children from Winter had been the last straw.

I had to find a way to free the High Lords, get back their powers. Attacking Amarantha would just risk something happening to those caught down here, or outside.

Sinking back into the shadows, I watched Amarantha disappear into the other direction. I waited until she was gone, waited some more, just to make sure. Then I slipped down the hall.

The door creaked a little when I pushed it open, and cringing lightly, I hastily slipped through, closing it behind me carefully before raising my head, and my heart skyrocketed.

Rhys was standing at the opposite wall, his bare back towards me and shoulders shifting as he tensed, going rigid. He didn't turn around when he mumbled: “Anything else?”

His deep voice took away my breath, something tightening harshly in my chest at it's roughness.

He sounded defeated.

His name tumbled from my lips before I could stop it, quiet and hoarse and a little shaky.

“Rhys.”

He froze.

I watched as his shoulders straightened. He looked like he was holding his breath, his hands closing so tightly around the shirt in his hands, his knuckles turned white as he stared at the wall ahead, and for a second, I thought I could see a tremble run over his spine.

I took a step forward, whispering: “Rhys?”

His head turned ever so slightly, like he was forcing himself not to turn around but couldn't fully control his body, and I saw the moment he caught onto my scent.

His nose flared, and his limbs went utterly and fully still, like for a second, he even stopped breathing. Then he looked over his shoulder, and I stared at him, felt something surge high in my chest when his gaze found mine.

Rhys blinked, and my bottom lip trembled when his eyes became glossy, one corner of his lips curving slowly. Then he whispered, rough voice broken: “You're not real.”

My heart clenched violently, and I swallowed, staring at him through the haze of pain. Then I moved towards him, slowly but steadily, and I could feel Rhys fight the closer I got, like the instinct to reach out and the fear of reaching right through me were battling in his chest.

Halting a few inches away, stopping to keep myself from moving even though every part of me screamed at me to get closer, I swallowed before carefully reaching out a hand.

When my fingers brushed over his arm, something rippled through Rhys' body. His eyes snapped up from where he had watched my hand almost fearfully, flying to meet mine as his glossed over ones grew wide and his lips parted.

I sniffled, nose crunching as I sent him a smile, wobbly and uneven.

“Not getting rid off me that easily, remember?”, I whispered, and Rhys' hand closed around my wrist to yank me forward, into his arms.

My heart stopped when my chest collided with his.

It felt like I was thrown into one of the dreams that had haunted me for fifty years, dreams in which he'd been there, had grinned at me and teased me and been his gloriously annoying self, dreams I had woken from with a weight on my chest pressing me down, because I could feel the memory of his presence slip through my fingers.

Only now, I didn't wake up, and there was no pressing knowledge somewhere buried in the depth of my mind that it was nothing but a dream.

No, Rhys was there, tall and solid as he wrapped himself around me, clinging to me like I could be ripped away from him any second, and my breath hitched when I could feel the way his body started to tremble.

Something small in my chest shattered silently, and barely suppressing a soft whimper as pressure rose in my throat, I hastily wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held onto him. Held onto him, his skin cool under my mine, muscles taut as a bowstring when my fingers dug into the back of his shoulders and I clung to him, and Rhys laughed, wet and desperate and causing my chest to tighten so harshly, I hiccuped. His hands grabbed at my back, my dress, one finding its way into my hair, and I fought the heavy weight on my chest and the way my voice thickened when I whispered: “Hello.”

Rhys whimpered, his trembling fingers tightening their hold like he tried to drag me closer, like I wasn't already pressed into his chest, his breath shaking like the rest of him when he buried his face in the crook of my neck, and I could feel the second his walls broke. His chest started heaving, and something warm and wet pooled on my skin.

“It's okay.” I squeezed my eyes shut as I held onto him, feeling tears roll over my cheek as the ache in my chest spread, and my voice broke a little when I whispered: “I'm real.”

A shaking sob broke from Rhys' throat, and his fingers dug into my skin when he breathed out with a shudder that shook his body. Then he pulled back, nose pressing into my hair for a second, and when I raised my head, his hand slipped up to curl around the back of my neck, and Rhys pressed his forehead against mine. His quick, unsteady breaths made my heart skip, and I forced open my eyes, staring at him and his scrunched eyebrows and the tears silently rolling over his cheeks as he fought for air.

Quickly, I slid my hands down to press them against his sides, feeling my voice crack a little when I whispered: “Breathe.”

Rhys' eyes flew open, and the world staggered when his violet iris met mine, shimmering with tears and everything shining through them, like a dam inside of him had broken. He stared at me like I was the night sky he hadn't seen for fifty years, his fingers curling into my hair.

His eyes tracked the dried tears on my cheeks, and then his body went awfully still.

For a second, Rhys gazed down at me, his throat working as he swallowed harshly and his grip slackened a little. His eyes flickered over mine, and his voice, rough and fragile, broke a little when he mumbled: “How long have you been outside?”

I tried to breathe against the heaviness in my chest as I stared up at him, losing the fight against the way my throat closed as my vision blurred and my bottom lip wobbled.

My silence was answer enough.

Rhys' fingers twitched, and I could feel him freeze, pulling back, but I dug my fingers into his bare skin and swallowed harshly, a tear running over my cheek when I whispered, voice shaking: “I'm going to kill her.”

Rhys' eyes followed the tear, widening slightly, and suddenly, he looked panicked.

“You have to leave.”

“Rhys –“

“You have to get out of here, if she finds you with me –“ His breath quickened, his wide eyes causing something to squeeze my heart harshly.

In over a hundred years, I had never seen him like this, so utterly and completely afraid; fear, sheer frantic panic rolling off him in waves, completely ungarded -

“Indeed.”

I could feel the way Rhys froze under my hands when my eyes flew over to the door.

Could feel the wave of his unbridled dread crash over me when the female in the door smiled, her eyes flashing and blood-red hair glimmering in the candle light.

“Now look at that…”

☆

My knees dragged over the stone floors as the guards hauled me into the great, cavernous hall, Amarantha sauntering after us, Rhys behind her as he struggled against the males containing him, his teeth bared even as I could feel, smell the panic rolling off of him.

I tried to reach him, but the powers raging under my skin were slowly slipping out of my control, roaring at the way I could feel him struggle.

“Drop her.” Amarantha waved her hand casually, raising her brows as the guards dumped me to the ground in the middle of the hall and turning towards Rhys.

“You know, I really thought you'd have better taste.” Her tone was mocking, her smile amused. “A servant… and a faerie no less.”

Rhys fought against the guards holding him, but I could see the way his movements were restrained, like she was containing him. He looked like he was vibrating with unbridled fury, but there was something burning under the surface as I forced myself to my feet, something that made my heart tighten harshly.

Amarantha tutted softly, smiling widely. Her eyes raked over Rhys' face, and they sharpened. Then she raised a brow.

“Oh.”

Something skipped high and harsh against my ribs, and one corner of her lips quirked.

“Now that's interesting. Is it possible…” She tipped her head to the side, and Rhys grew rigid.

“You care for her. Oh now, now.” Amarantha laughed, and it rung through the air. “How quaint.” She smiled widely, and it sent a shiver down my spine as her eyes danced.

“The mighty High Lord and the faerie. I wonder…” Sauntering towards me, she reached out, her nails lightly raking over my jaw to tip it up, and I hissed at her, causing her to chuckle.

“Well, she is feisty. Still.” Her head tipped to the side, considering me like prized piece of cattle, and Rhys' struggle grew as she slowly started to smile and raised her brows mildly as she turned to look at him.

“I think you need a reminder who you belong to.”

Moving back, she lightly dipped her head, and someone kicked the back of my legs, causing them to buckle.

Sharp pain shot through my knees when I crashed to the floor, and I could feel my dress shift. Then rough hands pushed me forward and the fabric was ripped open, slipping down my back.

My heart skipped high into my throat, and I tried to reach out on instinct to cover myself, but my wrists were seized, forced away from my body.

I could hear the sound of a struggle, and when my eyes rose, Rhys was trying to tear himself away from the guards holding him, a terrifying snarl on his face. But Amarantha just smiled and placed a finger on her lips.

Iron shackles closed around my wrists, dragging my arms apart until I was kneeling, and my fingers started shaking as I tried to contain the magic brimming under the surface, the golden light trying to break out to rage around me. I forced up my head, and Amarantha raised a brow.

There was movement at the corner of my eye. Then something struck my back with such force, my body was thrown forward.

Burning pain seared over my skin, and a scream forced its way from my throat.

My back arched, trying to twist away, pain pulsing through my body and leaving my muscles trembling, and Rhys roared.

With one mighty rip, he broke away from the guards trying to contain him, but before he could make it even a few feet, Amarantha struck, and Rhys crumbled to the ground.

“No!” I struggled against the iron chains, magic surging under my skin as pressure build behind my eyes and an angry sound ripped from my throat.

“How precious.” Amarantha sounded bored and a little disdainful, waving her hand as she turned away, and two guards grabbed Rhys' arms, dragging him up until he was kneeling, forcing his head up.

He was bleeding, his brow cut, but it was nothing compared to the anguish in his eyes as they found mine, wild and desperate.

Fighting against the tug in my chest, I squeezed my burning eyes shut for a second before opening them again, staring at him as my body trembled.

“I,”, my voice broke with strain, “can take it.”

Amarantha chuckled. “Oh dear.”

Another hit struck my back, the whip slashing the air and through my skin, and a low scream tore from my throat. Tears brimmed at the corner of my eyes, my breath trembling at the pain pulsing through my back and into my body, and from holding onto the whirling storm in my chest.

“I doubt it.” Amarantha's eyes were glimmering with wicked delight, and as the next lash hit my back, I forced my head up, my body shaking as I gritted my teeth and fought the tears pooling from my eyes as they found the male behind her.

My heart stilled.

Went silent in my chest at the way he stared at me, head pulled back by his hair as the guards forced him to watch, his eyes wide, body rigid like he was gripped in an iron fist. There was something swirling in his gaze, not just anguish; pure torment, and intertwined with it was something else, something that reached so deep, I lost my breath.

No more.

The words seemed to whisper through my mind, through the fog and the pain, growing stronger as the air around me started to flimmer.

No more.

My eyes pierced into Rhys', a tremble going through my body. Then something settled in my chest.

No more.

Golden light bloomed around me as I let go. Allowed the whispers of magic to swarm me, flittering over my back, their whispering touch gentle, and I could feel the wounds close, leaving nothing behind but even skin.

The hum seemed to grow still, until I could feel the power in every inch of my body, pulsing and whirling, and Amarantha's voice reached me, sharp as she called to her guards: “Stop her, now -“

A wave of golden light erupted from my body.

Amarantha and the guards holding me got ripped off their feet, flung through the air, the males crashing into the walls as Amarantha slammed into the steps of the dais.

And as the ground started to tremble, the mountain itself rumbling like thunder, the shackles fell of my wrists and I pushed myself to my feet, golden swirls of magic building around me like a hurricane as rage carried me.

The doors flew open as guards streamed in, dozens and dozens more, barking orders as they took position and advanced, and power surged through my body.

The ground shook, then thick vines bursted from the stone floors. They slithered through the air, wrapping themselves around the guards and flinging them through the room, wrapping them up tight and engulfing them, their screams drowned as they turned into giant trees. Weapons turned into slithering branches, closing around their owner's arms and throats, armor grew green moss like treebark as I dodged a sword blow in a swift movement. Arrows flying at me turned into bursts of petals as I dove and slipped the guard's sword out of his hand, slashing it over his throat in one precise movement, and another wave of magic pulsed through my body, sending a wave that tore the remaining guards off their feet, swords and armor clattering when they crashed into the walls and onto the floors.

Raising my head, I felt the light around me flimmer, illuminating the sword in my hand for another moment as I slowly straightened, power surging through my body as the golden whisps began to disperse and I felt my breath again, quick and heavy. Something flickered in my chest when my gaze darted over the throne room, trees growing from stone floors, their branches stretching high up the cavernous ceiling, petals drifting over the ground and unconcious guards strewn across the floor.

The rage in my chest slowly washed away, a deep exhale leaving me, and looking over my shoulder, I felt something rise in my chest.

Rhys was still kneeling on the ground, having caught himself as the guards holding him had been torn across the room. His eyes were wide as his gaze darted over the hall, then they found mine, and something skipped so harshly into my throat, I lost my breath.

Rhys was staring at me like I had ripped open the mountain to show him the stars.

Something rose in my chest, fluttering like a hurricane, and turning around, I quickly stepped over a guard's legs and held out a hand, pulling him to his feet.

Slowly straightening, Rhys stared down at me, and his eyes began to shine in a way that made my breath catch.

There was a light flash of silver from the corner of my eye. I turned my head, and for a moment, time slowed.

Without thinking, I moved, the sword slipping from my hand and clattering to the ground as my fingers closed around Rhys' elbows and dragged him with me as I turned, turned until he was facing the dais and I was in the way, the way of –

Sharp pain struck my back.

I could feel my eyes widen, how time staggered just like my heart when hot, all consuming pain slowly spread from a point somewhere right beneath my shoulder blades. Then my eyes found Rhys', and the way he stared at me, his eyes growing wide, made time fall back into place.

My knees toppled lightly when pain crashed over me like a tidal wave, and Rhys dove forward to catch me. His pupils were blown wide as a wave of panic washed over me that wasn't my own, terrifying and mindnumbing as his hands frantically moved over my body, gripping my hips, pushing up my chin.

The pulsing pain from my back seemed to slowly consume my body, and my heart stuttered.

“No.” Rhys' voice ripped its on wound through my chest, disbelieving, hollow and horrified. His eyes darted over my face, all the color draining from his features, but he looked a bit blurred, like he was drifting away from me. I tried to grab at his chest, my movements strangely slow.

“Go.” My voice sounded strained to my own ears, but I forced myself to focus on Rhys' face, trying to fight past the pain the look on his face caused in my chest. His brows twitched as his eyes, panicked and frantic, darted over my face, and I pressed: “Get. Her.”

Rhys stared at me. Then something shifted in his eyes, beginning to glow, and his head rose, a terrifying growl rumbling from his chest.

“You.”

His hands slipped away from my arms and I could feel him move past me, something skipping high in my chest as I staggered lightly, dropping to my knees.

Forcing myself to straighten, I tried to suppress a whimper when I reached my hand up my back, twisting and feeling a rough sound built in my throat at the pain the movement sent cursing through my body.

My fingers slipped over something cold, and with a pressed sound, I pulled the blade out of my body. It clattered onto the stone, and the floor swayed under my knees when for a second, all I could see were black spots dancing before my eyes as something hot ran over my pulsing back.

Behind me, I heard the sound of fighting, snarls that made the hairs at the back of my neck rise, and I forced my head up to look over my shoulder. My vision swam, and my breath stilled when I heard the sound of a body hitting the ground heavily, heart rising into my throat as my eyes focused.

Rhys was kneeling on the ground before Amarantha, a sword pressed against the back of his neck as she snarled at him, hands curled into his hair, forcing his head back. I could see the fight in the strain in his shoulders, like he was battling her in his mind, but his body was trembling.

“Oh, I do like you on your knees.” Amarantha bared her teeth, and something shifted in my chest, blooming into a soundless roar as I pushed myself to my feet.

My fingers closed around the hilt of the sword I had dropped, the heavy blade beginning to glow in my grip, and Amarantha raised her head and scoffed.

“Don't be ridiculous.” She snarled as she stepped away, Rhys caught frozen, limbs trembling in a vain effort to free himself. “I posses the powers of all the High Lords of Prythian. No iron, no steel can defeat me, not even your powers. I have killed Fae for centuries.” Her eyes flickered over me, her lips curling. “You're no match for me, little faerie.”

Golden whisps of magic began to rise around me, the branches of the trees growing out of the stone rustling with a harsh wind, the vines creaking as they slithered, bowing into my direction as I walked towards Amarantha, magic beginning to grow under my skin until I could feel it glow.

I deflected the first blow of Amarantha's sword as it came crashing down, the force making the mountain rumble. Then I swerved to the right, blade slashing through the air as the space around us started to vibrate with power and my sword began to shine brighter and brighter.

“Give up!” Amarantha's voice shook the hall like thunder. “You'll never defeat me, you're a faerie, you'll just -”

My heart rose, and the mountain sang.

When my next blow came crashing down, it splintered Amarantha's sword in two with a blast of golden power. She dropped the useless hilt, eyes growing wide as her head whipped up, and my sword sank into her chest, deeper and deeper until we were face to face.

"I'm not just any faerie,”, I whispered.

A surge of power rippled through the air when I pulled the sword from Amarantha's chest, and I could feel the wards trembling. Then they shattered, the whole mountain groaning as I whirled around and swung the sword, the blade whizzing through the air and cleanly cutting off Amarantha's head.

Blood spattered, and with a thud, the female's lifeless body dropped to the ground.

Breathing heavily, I straightened, and my sword clattered as it hit the floor. The golden shimmer around me pulled back into my body, and suddenly, the world tilted.

My knees gave out, and I would have crashed down the steps if I hadn't been caught, arms wrapping around me and a familiar scent washing over me, causing my heart to jump weakly against my ribs.

I thought I heard a voice, deep and familiar and utterly panicked, calling my name as a warm hand closed around the side of my face, shaking me. But my lids were suddenly heavy, blinking becoming harder with the second. My body felt a bit like it was beginning to float; no more pain, only a strange, calm feeling, my limbs too heavy to move.

Through the fog, I heard the voice, thick and trembling, words not quite reaching me. Then something warm pressed against my temple, nudging my cheek.

“Stay with me.”

☆

Stay with me.

My eyes opened with a flutter, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

My gaze was blurry at first, but I thought I saw a high ceiling, far above me, the branches of trees, and felt arms holding me, propping me up against a warm, solid body that suddenly grew rigid.

Blinking, I breathed out before letting my head slowly roll to the side, and my eyes met another pair.

My heart skipped softly against my ribs at the sight of violet, mixed with starlight in eyes gleaming with tears, widening when they found mine as their owner became completely still.

I blinked, feeling slowly seeping back into my body, and a small sound broke from the back of my throat.

“Ow,”, I mumbled softly.

Rhys stared at me. Stared from shimmering eyes that were blown wide, wet tear tracks on his cheeks. His hand cradling my jaw was trembling, and something shifted gently in my chest at the way he seemed to fight for air. Then he blinked, and the tears in his eyes welled as his lips curved and a sobbed laugh left him, deep and shaking my body as Rhys dropped his head, his arms slipping around me until he was clinging to me, holding me to his chest as he pressed his nose against my temple.

I could feel his shuddering exhale, and how tears began to soak my hair, and something rose in my chest, fluttering wildly as it surged and pressure built behind my eyes, my fingers trembling as I curled them into his arm holding me.

Rhys' grip tightened, then he lightly pulled back his head. His hand slipped to rest against the side of my neck, and my breath hitched, stumbling until it stilled when he slowly started to smile at me. Smiled brighter and brighter, wide and radiant until deep creases formed in his cheeks and his violet eyes twinkled like a sky full of stars, and his voice was quiet and a bit hoarse when Rhys whispered thickly: “Hello, starshine.”

☆

Stepping out into the cool morning air, I breathed in deeply, closing my eyes for a second.

My body was still aching a little, my head thrumming, but it was duller now, like it was slowly ebbing away. The magic under my skin was no longer raging and whirling, instead buzzing softly from the healing I had done in the past few hours, Fae and faeries alike.

The wards had come down, the second Amarantha had died. Shortly after, the doors to the hall had burst open, and Rhys had gripped me tighter when all the High Lords had stormed inside, their newly returned powers thrumming just like the one's of the male holding me.

He had reluctantly left me alone, only after several insurances that I was fine and some mild teasing threats, his swagger returning to him as his mask slipped into place as he had joined the High Lords standing over Amarantha's body, her severed head turned towards the ceiling, her eyes staring lifelessly into the air.

Dropping my shoulders and stretching them slowly, my skin tingled gently right under my shoulder blades, and like instinct, I reached back, twisting my arm until I could brush my fingers over the spot where only a few hours ago, a dagger had nearly, maybe taken my life.

The skin was soft there now, and unblemished, as Rhys had showed me with a quick glimpse into my head.

Like there had never been any wound in the first place.

Letting my arm fall back to my side, I breathed out again before turning, and my heart did a soft skip when my gaze landed on the familiar male a bit away, standing on a ledge, head tipped back as he stared up at the sky that was slowly turning from a pale blue into a soft pink.

My heart skipped, and I hesitated for a second, then I carefully stepped onto the big ledge and softly called: “Rhys?”

My quiet voice carried through the cool air, and when he looked over his shoulder, my chest tightened harshly.

Tears were streaming over his face, his eyes shimmering as they reflected the sky, and I moved, darting towards him and stretching to slip my arms around his shoulders.

Rhys breathed out with a shudder, and his hands closed around my waist, pulling me tightly into his chest. Then he turned his head and buried his face in the crook of my neck. I could feel his tears drip onto my skin as soundless sobs left his body trembling, and my heart tightened harshly as my eyes welled.

Quickly pressing my nose against his shoulder, I let his pain wash over me, my chest aching as tears trickled over my cheeks and I buried my fingers in his hair.

By the time Rhys' sobs had faded away and the tears on my shoulder had dried as he just held me, the sun had started to rise on the horizon.

Carefully pulling back a bit, I looked up at him, finding his eyes already on my face, raw with emotion I couldn´t quite decipher.

“Go home,”, I whispered softly, and a shudder went through Rhys' body, his hands tightening their grip around my waist for a moment.

His eyes searched mine, then he blinked.

“Come with me.”

I blinked, feeling my lips part in surprise as I stared up at him. There was no hesitation in his eyes, no doubt, nothing. Just something that looked a bit like a soft, feverish plea.

I blinked, and warmth slowly spread through my body, something closing gently around my throat.

“I can't,”, I mumbled, and Rhys' grip loosened, causing me to quickly curl my fingers into his shirt.

“No, I just,”, I huffed a little, frowning at him, "not yet." Breathing out, I tipped my head to the side and sent him a soft, helpless smile. “There are still so many in there who need my help. And in the courts. I can't just –“

Rhys exhaled, and my heart skipped into my throat when he dropped his head to rest his forehead against mine, his hands gently closing around my waist.

“You're awfully inconsistent, you know that?”, he whispered, and his rough voice sent a soft tingle over my skin. “You claim to not like the High Fae, and yet, you're still helping them.”

“I know.” I gently tapped my finger against his chest. “I mean, I constantly help you, what's that all about?"

Rhys huffed, and I grinned lightly before pulling back and mumbling: “They've suffered enough for a while.”

Rhys blinked, and his eyes moved over my face, something beginning to glow gently in his iris.

“Promise that when you're finished, you'll come to Velaris.”

Staring up at him, I felt my heart flutter genly against my ribs. Then I blinked and slowly smiled, soft and cheeky.

“I promise.”

Rhys' eyes flickered over mine, and something tightened in my chest, my heart skipping when I quickly said: “Promise you'll find me if you need me?”

The male's gaze moved over my face, and slowly, one corner of his lips rose, just the tiniest bit.

“Promise,”, he mumbled, his deep voice sending a soft tingle down my spine, and I breathed out, a weight slipping from my shoulders.

For a second, I stared up at him, then, before I could stop myself, I stretched to press my lips onto his cheek.

Rhys' grip around me tightened, and my heart rose into my throat when I allowed myself to linger for just a second. Then I let myself sink back to the ground, and my breath hitched when Rhys dropped his head like he was trying to follow me.

The male blinked and slowly straightened again, staring down at me, a look in his eyes that made my chest squeeze gently.

Slowly, I took a step backwards, sending him a soft, crooked smile as I lightly poked his ribs.

“Go.” Warmth spread through my chest as I raised my brows. “They've been waiting long enough.”

Rhys exhaled, a weight seeming to slip from his shoulders, and I turned around. I could feel his eyes track me as I made my way back towards the entrance in the mountain.

When I looked back before stepping through, he was gone like the night breeze.

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @stayinglow-exploringworlds @tcris2020

#rhysand #rhys #rhysand x reader #rhysand imagine #rhysand/reader #rhys x reader #rhys imagine #rhys/reader #acotar x reader #acowar #acotar #acomaf #rhysand x female!reader #rhys x female!reader #starshine #lalacliffthorne

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lunar-wandering · 5 months

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things about the Boboiboy series that drive me NUTS (this list is written solely from memory)

the fact that the first three elements, Wind, Earth, and Lightning, didn't really start out as having different personality's from Boboiboy himself (at least, not by much/it wasn't extremely noticable) but then, Lightning, after being split for too long, losing his memories completely, and achieving tier 2, becoming Thunderstorm, suddenly goes all Edgy(TM). and then Wind eats a mood-changing potion and goes manic, and not only does that unlock his tier 2, making him Cyclone but that becomes his personality. like. hello??? the implications.... and then later on, Fire, Water, Leaf, and Light manifest WITH their personalities pre-set. what??? the vague implication that the elements are sentient and the personalities started becoming more obvious when Boboiboy's mind started slipping/letting them have freer reign haunts me every day.

speaking of Fire's manifestation. he initially manifested from the stress of exams and walked around accidentally burning shit down in the middle of the night. what a mood tbh.

if the elements are sentient, the implications of Retak'ka stealing them from Boboiboy and using them- without having his personality change, is INSANE. like bro. he used them as a weapon instead of letting them be actual people..... and then later on in the comics Thunderstorm gets taken away AGAIN and is trapped in a sword, a literal weapon, and is used. again. HELLO????

both of the first times Thunderstorm gets summoned (both the obvious first time and the first time after they all got reset to tier 1 due to Complications) involving his phobia kills me every time why the FUCK did they do that. they didn't even address it the second time around but they animated Lightning looking like he was in distress anyways. WHY DID THEY DO THAT TO HIM. i know he's the fave but like. was this necessary.

BOBOIBOY JUST DECIDING "Y'KNOW WHAT??? I'M GONNA INVENT FUSIONS NOW HERE WE GO" IN THE SECOND MOVIE AND PROCEEDING TO ABSOLUTELY WIPE THE FLOOR WITH RETAK'KA

i could list so much Thunderstorm stuff tbh he's definitely the fave they give him so many cool bits of animation. he does the "teleports behind you" move SO OFTEN and it's SO GOOD

Leaf's deadpan "Fashion Tragedy" line

that one time Boboiboy split into Fire, Wind, and Leaf, and EVERYONE agreed he shouldn't have done that and should never do it again cause those three have negative braincells when in a group together

the songs??? like. the opening songs. the insert songs used in the movies. the OST. why the hell are they so good. i mean i know i personally like em cause they tend to use rock. but like. its SO GOOD.

Yaya and Ying being arguably the two most powerful/capable members of the friend group as they should

that one time Thunderstorm and Fang fought and they paused right before hitting each other and the objects behind both of them exploded from the force of the other's attack

in the first movie when it hinted that we'd see Boboiboy without his hat for the first time ever throughout the entire movie and then it FINALLY HAPPENED when he caught a giant hammer right before it could hit him and punched the dude away with a blast of energy. he has a white streak in his hair and it's visible in the series from this point onwards.

I KNOW IVE SAID A LOT OF THUNDERSTORM SCENES BUT THAT POINT IN GALAXY WHERE HE WAS USING TIER 2 BEFORE HE SHOULD'VE BEEN USING IT AND HE KEPT SWAPPING IN BETWEEN BOBOIBOY AND THUNDERSTORM THROUGHOUT THE FIGHT??? THAT WAS COOL AS FUCK I LOVED THAT

i could list so many of the really cool shots from this series tbh. that one time Light slow-mo backflipped over a bunch of debris and then activated laser eyes to shoot at the villain is a highlight.

literally everything about the fact the plot of this show went from "aliens come to earth to steal chocolate" to "boboiboy nearly fucking dies on an almost daily basis"

#Boboiboy

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yns-world · 1 year

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golden boy

part iii of the euphoria au!outer banks series

part i part ii part iv

title: golden boy

pairing: euphoria au!jj maybank x reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: mentions of domestic abuse, toxic relationship, emotional cheating

a/n: this fic is kinda depressing so i had to use a slutty gif to balance things out 🙏🙏🙏 IN JJ WE TRUST 🙏🙏🙏

italics = rue narrating

fem reader, racially ambiguous, any size reader

JJ Maybank. The sweet, Golden Retriever boy. Nothing but laughs, because if he stopped laughing, he’ll start crying. He’s had a hard life, hasn’t he? No mother, no real father— just some stupid asshole that he lives with.

In a way, he’s a lot like Y/N. They both grew up with the worst kind of abuse, yet they turned into rays of sunlight— of course, that was before Y/N snapped. Speaking of which, why did she snap? She looked perfectly normal to us.

She snapped because they all ignored her when she cried, begged, and pleaded to be saved.

She became a monster in order to survive.

JJ remembers a time when Y/N used to be so cheerful, so full of light. But back then, they were still from two different worlds; and a sun doesn’t intrude on another sun’s galaxy. He would watch her from afar, taking her in glances, and he was content with that.

But he wasn’t content when Rafe came in and sucked all that sunshine out of her. The change was so sudden that it gave people whiplash, but JJ most of all. You see, to him, Y/N was another beacon, a buoy, that made him feel sane. So to watch her change like that killed him.

It hurt even more when he realized just how violent and aggressive she became; Y/N became a projection of all of Rafe’s insecurities, she became a mirror of all his flaws.

Or that’s what JJ thought.

Deep down, JJ knew that this was just a side of Y/N that Rafe had brought out— this ugly, bitter, revengeful side had always been there, buried deep inside her. And JJ had this exact same side inside him, always there, always hiding in the shadows.

Because of this, JJ could never hate her. If anything, it only pushed him to want to reach out to her, to let her know that there is at least one person that cares, someone that understands her pain.

It was lunch and Y/N had been standing outside in the courtyard for the past hour. The warning winds of winter surrounded the school but it didn’t come close to bitterness inside Y/N. The cold that nipped at her face and skin didn’t measure to the boiling rage she held.

Y/N enjoyed the bitter cold because no one was stupid enough to join her outside and bother her. The cool, thinning air was able to clear her thoughts, it brought silence to her screaming mind.

She was alone, truly alone, for the first time in days. The fresh air was whisking Rafe’s cologne off her, the wind was whipping at the 14 carat chains around her. She didn’t even feel the tears on her face until someone pointed them out.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

JJ was walking past the courtyard, taking part in his friends’ meaningless conversation, when he saw a lone figure standing and looking straight at a tree.

He could recognize that mink coat anywhere. But why was she alone? That’s what JJ couldn’t figure out.

JJ isn’t one to get into people’s businesses, but his soul ached for her. His brain and heart both decided that he needed to see her.

He didn’t feel his legs move, he didn’t remember how he got there, all he remembers were the silent tears on Y/N’s face— her stoic, unmoving, perfect face.

But her eyes gave her away. They were swarming with so much agony and hate. If he didn’t know her, it would’ve scared JJ.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

His voice broke her thoughts, bringing her back to the surface. He could see it in her eyes; how she blinked back into the presence; how that cold, hard anger melted as she realized that JJ stood directly in front of her.

In a matter of seconds, her face contorted into the most emotion that JJ has ever seen from her— she looked like a child in misery, and she lunged into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder.

Instead of pushing her off, JJ just brought her closer, nearly crushing her to his chest, but that was all she wanted.

She wanted somebody to care. She wanted somebody to see her as a real person and not just as some 2D antagonist.

That day in the courtyard bonded the two in ways that Rafe and Y/N never could. JJ was someone that Y/N could rely on, he was always in her corner.

That same night, JJ went over to Y/N’s house.

They didn’t kiss, they didn’t fuck, they just laid side by side and JJ listened to Y/N spend the whole night talking about all the people (primarily men, but her mother gets a nice feature, too) that fucked her over.

JJ listened to every word with his whole heart, and wrapped his arms around her when she began crying again.

Unlike Rafe, JJ never left her that night— or any night that he was over.

During the day, they would have to pretend that they never knew each other, but as soon as the school bell dismisses them, they go back to their soulmate-like relationship.

Their relationship seemed complicated, but to them, it wasn’t. They didn’t put a label on what they had, but that didn’t stop the rumors from festering.

People were quick to notice the mutual eye contact between JJ and Y/N.

People noticed all the times that Y/N would acknowledge him in the halls, even while she had a rabid dog on her arms.

People used to think that Y/N was cheating on Rafe with the dead football player, but she wasn't cheating at all. If anything, you could argue that she’s emotionally cheating with JJ, but could you blame her?

It's not like Rafe was offering her any emotional support. The longer that Y/N went out with Rafe, the more she felt like a trophy for him to brag about.

No, she was more like a doll for him to dress up in pretty clothes and expensive jewelry, but he would throw her to the side as soon as he saw snow.

People mistake his possessiveness for love. Rafe was possessive of his toys, no one was able to play with them. But he wouldn’t play with his toys, either. He would just throw Y/N to the back of the closet to rot, making sure to lock the door so she could never escape.

JJ wasn’t like that at all. He saw her. He saw past the facade that Y/N so desperately tries to keep alive. He knows exactly where she’s coming from, he understands her and makes her feel normal.

JJ makes her feel desired, he makes her feel seen and accepted.

With JJ, she felt the most comfortable.

It’s been months since JJ started coming over to Y/N’s place. He’s always over when Rafe isn’t there.

Like so many other countless times, Y/N was sitting in between JJ’s legs, his hands running up and down her arms as he listened to Y/N.

“Am I a monster?” Y/N choked out, tears stinging her eyes.

JJ turned her head so she could look at him. “You’re not a monster.” There was so much conviction in his voice that Y/N nearly believed him. “You’re just a product of your environment. Plus, a monster wouldn’t worry about being a monster.” He tried to lighten the mood with his last sentence, but Y/N didn’t care. His words were what she needed to hear.

His words calmed the storm inside her but fed another flame in her heart.

Mere centimeters separated their faces and Y/N could feel his breath on her lips.

“JJ…” Y/N whispered, but he didn’t let her finish. He pressed his lips against hers, attempting to suck all the pain from her. And she let him. She also let him fuck all the problems away.

For a night, she was free.

For a night, she felt loved for who she was.

a/n: DON’T BE A GHOST READER!!!!! let me know your thoughts, opinions, ideas, etc in the comments!!! i love talking with y’all <3

if you enjoyed reading, please consider reblogging and tipping, they help my account more than likes :)

i'm open to requests! free feel to request, just make sure to read my pinned post for request rules <3

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tranakin-skywalker · 2 months

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Story Masterlist

Figured I should finally make one of these so y'all know what the fuck I'm talking about when I go on about my silly little au ideas. I'll be updating this list as I publish things/ come up with new ideas. Published fics have a hyperling to their ao3 embedded in their title.

THE BIG BOYS

Singularity:

Half canon re-write, half me going "hey wouldn't it be fucked up if _?" Basically I packed all my favorite little headcanons and tropes into one five-part monster of a series, featuring things like eldritch demigod Anakin, Force deities, fucked up Naboo politics, sentient droids, and a Galactic Civil War that actually feels Galactic and like a war. Somehow ended up with me both trying to make Star Wars more realistic, and leans way more into the mythological side of the story. Also features a ton of my own original concepts. A pantheon of Tatooine gods and slave culture inspired loosely by Fialleril, Sith religion and rituals, clone culture and language built around the idea that they've been dehumanized and un-personed for their entire existence, and a bunch of stuff about the Coruscant underworld. You can find more about it under my fic:singularity tag

Star-Birth:

The first part of Singularity more or less covering the events of TPM with a few... creative liberties taken. Status: Published/ Ongoing Word Count: 92,740

Accretion:

Part II of Singularity covering the years of Anakin's apprenticeship between TPM and AOTC, as well as looks into both the lives of Shmi and Padme. I took inspiration from a bunch of the stories in Legends covering this time period but most of it is my own thing. This is the one that goes the deepest into the functions and every day life of the Jedi, as well as life on Coruscant in general. An exploration of the disconnect between the governing body of the Senate and the wider galaxy, the wealth disparity on Coruscant and just how fucking dystopian it is, and generally how something like the Clone Wars could come about. Status: Unpublished

Asterism:

Part III of Singularity. AOTC if I butchered it's body and reassembled it in the imagine of my own design. Some of the movie's plot points remain but I'm attempting to get from Point A to Point B as originally as I can while still keeping with the heart of Attack of the Clones. Status: Unpublished

Nucleosynthesis:

Part IV of Singularity. The Clone Wars but not the animated version. We are going full Republic comics version baby. Ahsoka is still here tho, because I love her. Basically my idea of what a galactic civil war would actually look like, featuring space battles that last for months on end, widespread disease outbreaks, planets completely wiped out of existence, billions of combatants, and war crimes galore. The size of this war is immense. Like, there's over 1 billion active duty clones at any given time. (Which actually isn't even all that much compared to the population of the Republic at large lol) Probably the most space opera of the series. Status: Unpublished

Event Horizon:

Fifth and final part of Singularity. Essentially it's version of RotS, but with a vastly different ending. And beginning. And middle. Basically it's RotS if you squint. This I think is going to be the one that goes the deepest into the mythological/ fantasy aspects of the story. The Force and all it's weirdness is a huge aspect of this one. This is also the fic that goes the deepest into the Sith and all their awfulness. It features a much beloved headcanon of mine that when a Sith master is killed by their apprentice, part of their consciousness enters into their apprentice as a sort of living holocron. Which means that the current Sith master is essentially possessed by all the Sith that came before them and is constantly having to fight to keep control of their own body. It serves both as a way to pass on all the Sith teachings (since a living master would have a vested interest in keeping knowledge from their apprentice and thus a lot of that knowledge would be lost over time) and as an attempt at immortality. A strong enough spirit can take control of a weak enough vessel. Unfortunately for all those Sith masters, any apprentice who is able to go on and kill their own master isn't going to be in any way weak. A full, proper possession in the Sith lineage has been few and far between. I imagine y'all can guess what this means for Sidious' intentions with Anakin, a living vergence of the Force and for all intents and purposes immortal (even if Anakin won't let himself acknowledge that fact). Status: Unpublished

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Cytokinesis:

What started as me asking myself "what if the start of ANH but Vader/Anakin was trans and the twin's gestating parent and thus, recognized Leia immediately?" which then turned into something much much longer than I intended. Oops. The actual story starts during the Clone Wars when Anakin discovers he's been magically impregnated by the Force just like how his own mother was. Deals a lot with gender, parenthood, generational trauma, and repeating cycles. Also clones. Lots and lots with the clones. Their relationship with Anakin after discovering that he's basically a clone of his mother is a huge part of this fic. This particular version is going to follow along the beats of RotS and what comes after more or less (so, things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. Sorry) with some divergence here and there. This is the fic I find myself going back and rewriting/tweaking the most. Which is partially why it's taking me so long to update. I'm trying to make this next chapter one I'm completely happy with instead of having to go back and redo it in a few weeks lol. (Tho I think that's part of the fun of fanfic, the ability to go back and change things whenever you want). Honestly, this one is getting so long I might end up having to split it into two fics. fic: cytokinesis tag Status: Published/ Ongoing

Unnamed Cytokinesis Spin-off:

While Cyto is going to have a happy ending, it's going to take a lot of hurt to get there. Which is why I came up with an au to my au where the twins come early, Anakin doesn't fall, and things are happy... ish. The Republic is still a trash fire on the brink of collapse and everyone still has so so much trauma. Even when I write a happy au, things still suck lmao. I just can't imagine a RotS fix-it where things aren't still falling apart and Anakin gets off scot-free for murdering the president of the galaxy. Status: Unpublished

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Groundwater:

Ah yes, the fic that is really three differnt aus in a trench coat. 1. In the midst of galactic instability and the seceding of dozens of planets from the Republic, a revolt begins to spread in the Outer Rim. A revolt led by unknown masked force users, and a suspected Sith known only as Vader. The Jedi scramble to uncover the identity of these new enemies, only to discover a plethora of unpleasant truths that make them begin to question themselves and the very Republic instead. 2. After five years with the Jedi Anakin starts to have nightmares about his mother dying and they. just. won't. stop. He asks Obi-Wan for help, begs him for the chance to go to Tatooine and make sure she's alright. He isn't allowed to go. So he takes matters into his own hands. He leaves in the middle of the night, nothing but a note and a cut padawan braid left behind, and he goes to save his mother. Anakin ends up finding more than just his mother. There's a freedom network, one that Shmi is part of. There is a rebellion brewing, stolen weapons and stolen ships. There is a city in the desert, a paradise made by the hands of escaped slaves. And there are things, old things, powerful things, that he never new existed on Tatooine. Like deep ancient caves carved by the planet's mythical groundwater where kyber crystals grow wild and undiscovered. 3. Darth Vader lived, and then he died. In his son's arms he died, but that wasn't the end of it. There is no death, there is only the Force. And the Force was not done with him yet. He returns, four decades in the past, as a ghost haunting his younger self. Forced into the role of a passive observer, no power, no voice, seen only by one little boy and unable to change anything. Cursed to watch history repeat itself. Or at least that's what he thought. fic: groundwater tag Status: Unpublished

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I Wonder Which One Has My Eyes:

There was something achingly familiar about the pair of droids following the young princess around, Pooja thought. Or Pooja Naberrie, junior senator of Naboo, is invited to a senatorial event on Alderaan. There she meets and befriends young Princess Leia Organa. A few things click into place. This one is actually inspired by @keistance fic Uncle Ani, where the Naberries knew about the Anidala marriage. I thought it would be so so fun if Pooja realized that Leia was her baby cousin and secretly tells Leia all about her birth parents. Which means she goes into ANH knowing all about Padme Amidala and Anakin Skywalker, something that completely derails a certain interrogation with a certain Dark Lord when he stumbles over that particular fact. I'm fascinated by the idea of Leia coming from a similar place as Luke in canon, where she knows her father as a good man named Anakin Skywalker before she ever knew him as Vader. I think that change in perspective would give her the same belief and drive to bring her father back to the Light that Luke has. Also I think both twins ganging up on Vader to bully him into redemption is very funny. Status: Unpublished

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Unnamed Togruta AU:

Or Togruta!Skywalkers. Shmi and Anakin are Tatooine togruta, a rare population of togs that were ensalved from Shili dozens of generations ago and slowly grew to adapt to the desert environment. A characteristic of the Tatooine togs is the forward facing montals, which Anakin has. It's a trait coveted for gladiator slaves since they can be used to pin down/gore opponents. Anakin was occasionally entered into matches as a child where he was forced to fight and kill animals. Had he not been taken by the Jedi, he would have eventually been put in death matches against other sentients. (because I'm lazy I'm just copy/pasting this part from an old ask)

A lot of the ideas are coming from the hyena discord, so I can’t claim them as my own. But they are just too good to pass up. Like togruta making infrasound with their montrals and constantly projecting their moods. So when Anakin first gets to the Temple he’s constantly screaming for him mom at a pitch that only other togruta can hear. I’ve decided that that’s actually how he first meets Ahsoka. She hears him making his lost, scared, where’s mom, where’s family sounds and seeks him out to comfort him. Ahsoka would be about four here, and would have left Shili recently enough that she could still remember what those noises mean, even if Tatooine togruta sound different from Shili togruta. (to a Shili tog Anakin’s distressed noises sound like he’s being maimed, but that’s just because of the generational trauma and general awfulness of being a togruta on Tatooine. What they would think of the vocalizations he makes when actually being maimed we will not think about)

So Anakin and Ahsoka end up growing up together right from the start, and the main reason Anakin is so insistent on being knighted early is so that Ahsoka can be his padawan. It’s a private thought he has to himself at first, but as Ahsoka gets older and no masters are showing any interest in taking her on she starts to panic. Anakin tells her that he’ll just have to get knighted before she ages out so that he can be her master. And then the Clone War starts and he realizes that keeping his promise means bringing her onto the battlefield with him where she could die and he’s not sure if he’ll be enough to keep her alive :) Because Shmi is a togruta too she does not get bought by Cleigg Lars. I am just. not dealing with the implications of that. (Listen. I want to read Shmi’s marriage to him as a good thing, but I have a very hard time doing that.) Now, there’s actually a comic (Legands, I think, not Disney canon) where Gardulla goes to Watto and tries to buy Anakin back after he wins the Boonta Eve Classic. So have some fun thoughts about what would have happened to Anakin if he hadn’t gone with Qui-Gon. In the fic, Gardulla goes to buy Anakin but of course he left with the Jedi, so Gardulla decides she’ll take Shmi as payment for Watto’s debts. After all, if Shmi already had one child who turned out to be a talented podracer, well, she might have more. Hence the younger sibling that comes about shortly after Anakin leaves.

When Anakin goes back to Tatooine because of the nightmares about his mom he finds out that Watto sold his mom back to Gardulla and has to go to her to buy his mom’s freedom. Which would be traumatic, on multiple levels. Anakin finds out that a month before he arrived, Shmi tried to escape with the sister Anakin didn’t know he had, and Gardulla had their chips detonated. Gardulla even gives him their triggered remotes as proof. (Of course unbeknownst to Anakin, Shmi and the sister survived and are living with a village of other escaped togruta.) A lot of canon still happens the same, including Anakin’s fall, Order 66, Mustafar, etc. But when Bail Organa sees Ahsoka at Padme’s funeral he tells her that he can take her to a mutual friend of theirs. Ahsoka thinks (hopes) it’s Anakin at first, and is devastated when she realizes it’s Obi-Wan (and then hates herself for feeling disappointment because she should be happy that Obi-Wan is still alive, but he’s not Anakin, and this means that Anakin must be dead). There’s no Lars family and the Organas would have a harder time explaining a non-human daughter, so Ahsoka and Obi-Wan end up taking care of the twins. They eventually find their way to Tatooine because it’s out of the Empire’s notice and, well, because it’s a connection to Anakin (Ahsoka’s trying to hold onto anything she can that connects her to her brother and Obi-Wan is in his self-harming phase.)

And it’s there that they eventually run into a little community of togruta and a woman who looks suspiciously like Anakin who has the last name Skywalker. But hey, Shmi gets to meet her grandkids at least. Even if it happens at the same time that she finds out that son she thought she’d sent away to a better life and hasn’t seen in 13 years is dead. (Obi-Wan sees how much Anakin’s death destroys Shmi and decides to never, ever tell her what he became. Vader will be his burden and it’s a secret he will take to his grave. Anakin Vader is dead, and he’ll save them from ever finding out how it really happened) Of course, 15 years later Ahsoka goes to rescue some rebels from a walking death omen in black when she realizes the infrasound calls he’s shrieking out of his mangled montrals is devastatingly familiar.

togruta au tag or togrutakin tag Status: Unpublished

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Anachromism:

Anakin ends up twenty three years in the future, Vader ends up twenty three years in the past.

So you’ve got Anakin just fresh off the child murder suddenly flung into the Rebellion era and being faced with how much he supremely fucked up. Meanwhile Vader like not even a week after Bespin suddenly back in the Jedi Temple in the middle of the Purge. And because his vision is shit he doesn’t realize at first that it’s a bunch of clone troopers shooting at the big black angry mass that suddenly appeared. Which leads him to accidentally saving a bunch of baby Jedi, who of course imprint on him like orphaned ducklings. Vader figures he must had died at some point and this is a divine punishment for all the atrocities, trapped in a purgatory of reliving all his greatest mistakes. So in a bit of an uncharacteristic move for him, he doesn’t murder to death the gaggle of preschoolers he’s accidentally collected, and instead, in a series of absurd events sort of unintentionally helps to start the Rebel Alliance in a bit of cosmic irony.

Status: Unpublished

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War Machines (title pending):

Jedi are living weapons. Far into the Outer Rim, the Hutts obtain a planet killer. Dystopian au where the sith empire was never wiped out and controls half the galaxy and the Republic is more of an authoritarian dictatorship that uses teh Jedi as living weapons of mass destruction. Force sensitive children are taken from their families and trained as soldiers, raised with a cloned ‘handler’ who was designed specifically to be able to keep their Jedi in line. The Jedi are eldritch, incredibly powerful beings that are forced to wear suppression gear that keeps them confined to their physical form. Only the handler is able to turn it off the gear and allow the jedi the full use of their abilities. Some force sensitives are wired into ships or turned into actual weapons. On Tatooine, Gardulla realizes one of her slaves is a powerful force sensitive and begins having him trained like a jedi to be her own personal one man army. Status: Unpublished

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the thing that lives in dead stars (title pending):

A gambler Watto may have been, but stupid he was not. Anakin Skywalker was too great a prize to risk losing, not when the man betting had the gleam in his eye that told of a winning hand. Not that it mattered in the end. The boy won, and Watto lost, and the hutts got themselves the only human in the entire galaxy that could win a pod race. At least the outlander didn’t leave with the boy as well as his pretty Noobian ship. Or Anakin wins the race but not his freedom. Six years later, the circuit brings him to Coruscant, and the attention of a Sith Lord. My very fucked up Anakin raised as a Sith AU. Status: Unpublished

Shapeshifters AU:

aka space vampire Vader aka sun dragon Skywalkers. So I think we've established by this point that I can't get enough of Eldritch Skywalkers. They are my JAM. So of course I made another eldritch Skywalkers au. There's a few main points to this one. 1. Anakin, and subsequently Luke and Leia, being freaky part-Force abominations, can shapeshift. However, they cannot shapeshift into anything they like. This isn't FMA Envy/ Mystique/ whatever. They can't just look at a person and copy their face. Instead they have to have a deep emotional connection to what they are transforming into, and that transformation is always accessed by strong emotion. While they could theoretically shapeshift into a person they care very close to, the thought of doing so is very unnerving and almost violating, so they don't. Instead, all three Skywalkers have a habit of changing into creatures from Tatooine mythology. 2. Anakin and Beru are half siblings. I love this idea. I cannot express to you how much I love this idea. It just scratches something in my brain so well. Beru is Anakin's younger sister by about a year, and got left on Tatooine with their mother when Anakin was taken by Qui-Gon. She is not a part-Force abomination, but grew up knowing all about Anakin's weirdness. 3. Luke AND Leia are both given to Beru (and Owen) because of said knowledge about Anakin's weirdness. She is probably the best and safest option for raising two baby shapeshifting half-Force abominations. And thus the twins grow up on the same stories Anakin did, with the added knowledge that he could turn into those creatures, and thus, so do they. 4. At some point Anakin found out he could consume the midi-chlorians of other Force sensitives on account of the whole half-Force abomination thing. And since midi-chlorians exist in a persons blood, well. Space vampire. Sidious has a lot of fun feeding Force sensitive people to his pet monster. 5. Speaking of- Vader is more often than not a fuck off huge black hole of a sun dragon. Like, legitimately. In this, sun dragons are essentially living stars in the shape of massive serpents. Vader is what happens when one of those living suns becomes a black hole. 6. Vader is just all around fucked up honestly. He no longer gets to decide what form he takes. His body and everything about it is determined by Sidious' will. His master decides what he turns into, and Vader was always meant to be a monster on a leash. So of course that's what Sidious keeps him as. 7. The twins somehow get roped into the Rebellion. Don't ask me how, I haven't figured out that part just yet. Status: Unpublished

SHORT FICS & ONE-SHOTS

For a Son:

He could not bring her son back to her. Could not even return his body to lay to rest. The least he could do was bring her the grandchild she never even knew she had. He knew it could never forgive what he had taken. Obi-Wan finds out what happened to Shmi Skywalker. Word Count: 4,018 Status: Published

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Lessons the Desert Gave:

No one ever understood how the sand would sink into open wounds. How, no matter how much you scrubbed and washed and clawed, the sand always found its way into your blood. The desert has a way of sticking with you, even long after you left it. (Turns out growing up a slave can really fuck a guy up.) Ficlet/ one-shot collect of character studies looking at all the ways Anakin's childhood would have really messed him up. I'm open to prompts/ requests for this one. Word Count: 1,820 Status: Published / Ongoing

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Dead Letters:

Post RotS. Obi-Wan gets drunk and messages Anakin on his old comm from the war, forgetting that Anakin is dead. For some reason, he keeps on doing it. What could it hurt? Anakin is dead, his comm destroyed on Mustafar just like his body. So he keeps sending messages, because for just a second, it means he can pretend that Anakin is still alive out there somewhere. Then he discovers he doesn't have to pretend. This one could so easily be a crack-fic. Darth Vader gets drunk texts from Obi-Wan telling him all about how awful Tatooine is and that he'll never make fun of Anakin again for hating sand and he keeps getting sunburnt and also Anakin's son is so sweet and cute and just like him until he turned into a surly teenager, why couldn't he just stay an adorable little boy forever? Status: Unpublished

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Jewel Box:

Sidious’ obsession ran deep. What he wanted, he would have- wholly, utterly, and completely. His want for the boy was no different. Sidious POV of Anakin through the years featuring all the horrible messed up things he thinks and does. Big BIG warning for child abuse, grooming, and rape/non-con in addition to Sidious' all around awfulness. This is probably the most awful thing I've ever written. Like holy shit it's fucked up. It's taking me ages to finish because I keep having to take breaks from it. And I'm not even going into any graphic detail. Title comes from that one line in the RotS novel where Sidious calls Vader's suit a jewel box. Status: Unpublished

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twistedastrology · 8 days

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🌊my take on neptune🌊

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LOOK at that gorgeous fucking planet man-

i wanna start this with a little tiny disclaimer that my take on neptune is very different from the usual and kinda flips a lot of shit on its head so my bad if this makes no sense to u but i wouldn't be uranus ruled if i didnt do shit crazy different would i 💔💔

THAT BEING SAID!!!!!! LETS GET INTO IT BABEY!!!!

let's start with what I'm dismantling-

in modern astrology, neptune is often considered the higher octave of venus and is known as the planet of spirituality or higher love. ive seen a lot of ppl say that neptune is associated with hollywood, which makes no fucking sense to me but whatever yknow to each their own-

neptune is also known as the ruler of pisces, and is exalted in cancer, the sign the moon rules.

I am about to flip a Whole fuckton on its head here so strap in and give me ur brain for a second 💔💔

neptune, the god, is the roman counterpart to poseidon, and poseidon rules over the sea, storms and earthquakes- generally very chaotic stuff-

poseidon's egyptian equivalent would be Seth, or Set. Seth was the god of chaos, storms, earthquakes, generally very chaotic stuff again.

Seth was also a trickster and, in egyptian mythology, overall kind of an asshole (since he literally chopped up Osiris into like a billion pieces and then scattered him across the earth so- idk kind of a dick move ngl)

but that's what he did!! that was his thing!!! he was the god of chaos!!!! gods of chaos are gonna be kinda assholes!!!!

But what does this mean for neptune- well this means that Neptune would be Seth (and neptune is known for it's deceptive qualities)

now keep that in ur brain as i go off on another tangent that will eventually circle back around to this one-

another proposal i have that may be shocking is that to me, Neptune is the one that rules Cancer, and the moon is the one that rules Pisces.

stay with me here hold on hear me out 💔

since ive been quite literally twisting the fuck out of astrology in my head and debunking cancer myth after cancer myth, I've come to find that cancers are a much more volatile sign than we give them credit for- or at least Can be-

they're not crybabies by any sense of the imagination, and like i said in my post abt cancers and rage, they feel anger more heavily than anything. they can also be very chaotic because they're cardinal water (think tsunamis).

now they're not all bad, dont think im tryna paint em as villains dawg i am literally a cancer rising/mars- but they have a distinct dark side to them that is Not to be fucked with.

cancers are often considered the "mothers" of the zodiac, but that has been watered down to "they're good with kids and probably want kids"- when cancers were Initially considered the mothers of the zodiac, they were talking abt cancers are the Guardians of the Zodiac.

not the galaxy-

now i will say, if a cancer has children, they will be VERY protective of them, but not in a helicopter-y way. more like in a "if you say something bad about their children or threaten to harm their children in any way, they will most likely punch you in the face and knock you out."

they wont bitch at you or be polite about it, they will probably break your face- BREAK YOUR FUCKIN FACE TONIGHT!!!!!!!!!

now, where do cancers get that rage from? who around here borders on being or Is a god of chaos in the zodiac................. seth.

neptune is a much darker, more volatile planet than we give it credit for, just like cancers can be the same- But at the same time, they can both be very pleasant entities-

cancers can easily be some of the nicest people you've ever met, they're incredibly loyal and would probably go to war for you if you meant a lot to them, and they can be VERY and often times Are creative and artistic in some way.

neptune can be a very rewarding planet to work with, it can be incredibly creative because of the depth it represents, and it can put you and guide you on your path to and through spirituality.

neptune ruling cardinal water makes much more sense in this light than it ruling mutable water in my opinion. a planet as potentially volatile as neptune would NOT be mutable.

all of this also comes partially from my slightly different idea of what higher octaves really are- ive seen people say they're the "large scale influence" planets, but i think they're quite literally just the more powerful versions of the planets they're the higher octaves of (so they can and do affect the large scale, but that's not ALL they are).

so the moon in this case would deal with our conscious emotions, our humanity, that level of stuff- which makes more sense for pisces in my opinion- the moon would be more along the lines of the emotions we Think we should feel (mutable) and therefore do- the moon is how we may have Learned to feel, among many other things.

whereas neptune is our deep, inner self. our subconscious emotions, the feelings that penetrate our very soul. neptune is our shadow self, but it's also our higher self. just as the moon has a dark side, neptune has one too, but neptune's dark side is infinitely more painful.

this role switch also makes much more sense at least in my chart, because when looking at the moon as being my chart ruler, my co-ascendant would be pisces, which never made any sense to me- so i chalked it up to "oh well my moon is 1° pisces so it's basically aquarius i guess" which DID make sense

but my moon is still in pisces. My neptune, however, is firmly in aquarius, which explains perfectly why i feel so much more aquarius coded than anything else.

im also like 99% outer planet ruled, mercury being the only inner planet that dominates my chart- my most active planets are mercury, saturn, uranus, neptune and pluto 😮‍💨

HOWVEVEVR!!!!!!

i wanna say that whenever i switch everything up like this, i still find value in normal astrology and often combine it with my twisted version to get the most accuracy possible- so while my neptune and uranus are in mutual reception (aquarius/pisces) but i believe that neptune rules cancer, i still feel that mutual reception but i also still feel the neptune/cancer influence, especially since my ascendant literally starts in the neptune decan of cancer.

and this makes my chart make a lot more sense in terms of neptune too-

if this makes absolutely no fucking sense at all to you then that's fine!!! this is just my personal view on neptune and i honestly still associate a lot of My View of neptune's traits with the moon, which is why i incorporate a multitude of different perspectives into how i interpret everything and it gives me accurate meanings so i see no problem with it-

once it stops being accurate, then there's a problem, but we're not there yet so it's ok 🙏🙏

ultimately u can kinda just take this as food for thought if nothing else!! and if u read this far into my yapping session, god bless fr 😮‍💨 (i am not religious. HAHAHHAA)

#astrology #astrologer #astro observations #astro community #outer planets #my take #neptune #neptune astrology #zodiac signs #cancer zodiac #pisces

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dokoni-mo · 2 years

Note

k.. kiss Vader? Without his helmet? Pleeease? 😫🥺

OKAY ANON I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW,, i saw this in my inbox like RIGHT as i was walking into lunch and oh my god i was thinking about it the wholeass time my hands were shaking i couldnt even focus

IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE

"(Y/N), It seems you have forgotten the terms of our agreement."

Tapping the last few translucent buttons on your holopad, you pushed the device out of your field of view, looking up at him with a raised brow. Your back was against the ground, your knees bent at acute angles next to his feet as you lied on the white, hard ground. It was a tight fit in there with both you and the sith lord, his meditation chamber clearly not designed to fit two people. You were lucky that you weren't claustrophobic, otherwise you would have wanted out a long time ago. Even if it meant spending less time with him. Admittedly, it was also quite boring in there. You knew it was designed for meditation, but still. Thankfully you remembered to bring something with you to keep you entertained.

"What?" you questioned, "There's no way I was being that loud! I haven't even said anything!"

Lord Vader didn't do so much as crack open an eye as he heard your complaints, sitting as still as a statue as he continued to try and meditate. The mask of his helmet loomed overtop of the sith as he sat there, waiting for him to adorn it once again.

He let out a soft rumble, "No. But it is that device that is."

A groan escaped your lips as you turned off the holopad and set it down next to you on the ground, using your elbows so that you could push yourself up into a sitting positon to look at him better.

"I'm not trynna disturb you, Vader. I wanna spend time with you, but it's just really boring in here! You made it sound a lot better than it actually is."

"Perhaps that was my scheme all along."

Rolling your eyes with a smile, you leaned your body forward so that you could use your legs to push yourself up, your hands against the walls of the chamber to steady your balance. Taking a tiny step forward, you slipped yourself down to the sith, gently sliding yourself so that you were seated in his wide, strong lap. Resting your hands on either one of his shoulders, you smiled up at him as he cracked open his blueish-yellow eyes to observe you. Seeing you so close to him, he instinctively placed his large, gloved hands on your waist, helping you to stay in place upon him.

"This most certainly was not part of the agreement." He rumbled out to you, making you hear the faint note of his true voice that lingered whilst he didn't have his helmet on.

You breathed out a small laugh, "Well, I'm altering the deal. Wonder who I got that from?"

Letting out another rumble of approval, the sith watched as your eyes darted around his face, making note of the slight glimmer in your expression.

"I wish I got to see you like this more often." You whispered to him, lifting up one of your hands to cup his scarred cheek, "You're very handsome, yknow. It's not fair you get to see my face all the time and I rarely see yours."

"There's no need to flatter me, dearest."

You rolled your eyes playfully again, breathing out a smile, "Stop that, you know I mean it."

Lord Vader lifted up one of his gloved hands to your face, brushing away all the hair that concealed it whilst the other squeezed tighter against your side.

"You are quite the oddity, (Y/N)."

"And you, Lord Vader, are the most stubborn man in the Galaxy."

Bringing up your other hand to cup the other side of his face, you leaned down closer to the sith, closing your eyes as you dipped your neck down to press a soft, loving kiss to his lips. Yours were much fuller and smoother than his scarred and burned ones, but you didn't seem to mind. In fact, you thought it only added to the experience. Lord Vader's kiss was unlike every other person's in the Galaxy.

And you were the lucky one that got to experience them.

#RUNNING LAPS #SPRINTING EVEN #I LOVE IT WHEN YALL SEND STUFF LIKE THIS #darth vader x reader #star wars x reader #anakin x reader

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bramble-scramble · 1 month

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ive been thinking about a post that was made a lot recently.

i think it was you that said it, but i remember that it said if woodrow created a poem about his love for phantom, it would destroy the world. so, i was wondering… how would that be written out? /genq

Hello! Sorry for the late response; I haven't felt like writing much recently, nor being around here. I hope you still see this!

But yes, this is something that has been discussed a few times... I think this was the main/origin post for it.

I like to think of this as a possibility for the future, or an AU, not a certainty... as, of course, it would be very bleak to accept that a pairing which means so much to me would be destined to lead to such destruction. That said, it would be interesting to try and explore this event in more detail, but I think I'd have to be in a certain mood, and I'm not sure when I'll be there anytime soon.

A scenario I have thought up though, would generally go as follows. Anyone is free to use any of these ideas as a starting point; as I said, I have no plans to expound on them anytime soon.

Bwahstrella becomes aware that Phantom and Woodrow are dating and prophesizes the doooom that will come about if Woodrow ever composes what he considers his masterpiece.

She tries to warn Woodrow, who brushes her off and ignores her, because his love is more important and because she has done this "rabbid who cries wolf" situation with him many times before, so why should he believe it now?

Since Woodrow won't listen, she decides to spread the word directly to the people of Palette Prime, urging them to do anything to try and disrupt the relationship.

This leads to a rift in the people of the planet, with those who love and support Woodrow (led by Sweetlopek and Dryad) and think that Bwahstrella is a hack or exaggerating, vs. those people who have always resented, disliked or distrusted him- these are the kind of people who beat him up when he was younger, but were gradually shamed out of such actions after he became warden, now looking for an excuse to finally ruin his life again.

With the antagonistic faction becoming ever-more of a violent mob, ready to take desperate measures to ensure that the galaxy isn't destroyed, including possibly hurting Woodrow- he and Phantom are forced to go into hiding, with Sweets and Dryad helping them escape the planet unnoticed.

Somewhere in Phantom's ship in the depths of space, Woodrow grieves the fact that he can't go back to the planet he loves, nor even show his face publicly anywhere as the rumors that he is a ticking time bomb spread. Filled with resentment and sorrow, he wonders if a galaxy-ending poem is nothing to be afraid of, after all. Perhaps Bwahstrella's prophecy is true... perhaps it's something to be embraced... and perhaps the prophecy is self-fulfilling.

#mario plus rabbids #mario + rabbids #phandrow #alter answers

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kelbzsstuff · 5 months

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Here’s a sneaky peak at Chapter 3 of Bridger what the hell

After dispatching the nearby Stormtroopers and ensuring they can’t come back as zombies Sabine and Ezra quickly boarded the ship that once belonged to one Baylon Skol , he won’t be needing it anyways .

Ezra boarded first quickly rushing over to the controls and flicking switches and pressing buttons and raising the ramp up . He removed the helmet he was wearing placing it down before turning around to face Sabine . But before he could whisper a word he suddenly felt a shooting pain in his face mainly around his nose . Sabine had punched him hard . He didt react he could sense the adrenaline of the past few hours had encouraged this behaviour .

“HOW DARE YOU” she cried at him as she lunged towards him .

Ezra had anticipated this and held her close to his chest

“HOW DARE YOU , YOU YOU ABANDONED ME LEFT ME BEHIND AND THAT HOLOGRAM . THAT HOLOGRAM HURT BUT I KNOW FULL WELL YOU WHERE LYING THROUGH YOUR TEETH BRIDGER”

“Sabine” he said in barely a whisper

Lucky the ship was sound proof so no one was hearing this conversation

“DONT YOU SABINE ME YOU LOTHRAT DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT IVE BEEN THROUGH IN THE LAST DECADE IVE LOST EVERYTHING MY FAMILY MY CLAN ITS JUST ME MY PLANET DESTROYED . EVERYONES DOING THERE OWN THING AND I MIGHT HAVE JUST RUINED THE WHOLE GALAXY GETTING TO YOU…..

The tears fell from Sabines eyes and she was shaking from her sudden outburst . But before Sabine could continue Ezra looked down and cut her off …………

You lot are in for a treat with this chapter and it might be the longest I’ve wrote in a while too so bear with me as I tidy it up and everything but enjoy the sneak peak.

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definitelynotshouting · 6 months

Note

Hello again! My ADHD has decided that the Hunger AU is to be my newest hyperfixation, and as such I have some more questions/interpretations I'd like to push forward, if that's alright. As always, no pressure in responding, and I hope this ask is fun to read :)

First off, I was going through some of your Listener posts for Reasons and I noticed a little tidbit in one of them: Watchers cannot feed off of the emotions of Listeners. If this is still the case, why were Martyn and BigB in the Life Games, if Grian can't feed on them, and were their mindsets still adversely affected? Could Grian (or theoretically, any Watcher) tell something was Off about them this way?

Another thing I noticed was that all Watchers are essentially clones of each other. Passing by the question of ecological diversity (I might think on that a different time), this implies that Grian, or at least, the Watcher-larvae that got implanted in him prior to all the code-copying, is a copy of another Watcher. Am I reading this right? Because if so that has implications and I love it.

And finally the biggest thing that's been on my mind: the Void (or the in-between, I've seen both). The space between servers. This thing has vexed and fascinated me since I read chapter one of your fic months ago. I think I've come to my own interpretations on the space, but I'd love to hear what you have plotted as well. For example, you mentioned that Developer Crystals are sort of hubs for servers - considering how you talked about it, the number of servers they can support must be pretty high. I've come to think of it kind of like a galaxy - and elliptical galaxy to be specific. Is this a correct way to think about it?

You've mentioned that being out in the in-between is dangerous for those not prepared - how much training does it take to be a Voidwalker? How does inter-server travel for regular players work? Are there extra steps that need to be taken when traveling from one Crystal's hub to another?

And on a personal interpretation note, I interpret the Void as looking kind of like space (as you often refer to in your work), but also... not. Specifically, when you talked about Developer Crystrals, I imagined them looking kind of like the Paths from Attack on Titan, just minus the ground (and being a lot bigger).

One final question, since it's been bothering me for ages: how does the ground work in the Void? It's been killing me since chapter 1.

Sorry for the massive ask, but it takes a particular sort of worldbuilding for me to come up with so many questions. I'm really having a fun time working with these rules - so thank you for making them!

Heyo!! I finally got a chance to answer this, which ive been trying to do since you sent it but unfortunately real life had other plans 😂😂😂 but i have the time and brain now, so here are hopefully some satisfying answers to your questions!!! :D

1.) BigB becoming a Listener was relatively recent; he was still a Player when he got pulled into the life games. As for Martyn, i think that because Listeners are so new, he was probably the first one Grian had ever encountered (at the time of 3rd Life at least). So he didn't realize he couldn't feed off of Martyn's emotions-- all he saw, in that half-frantic frenzy of "i need to eat right fucking now," was hey, i know that guy, and he's also in close proximity to BigB, so Grian sorta automatically pulled him in.

Afterwards, I'd say once Grian figured out he couldn't feed from him, he still ended up pulled in the next two times because of the familiarity (and because for as much as Grian can't feed off of him, Martyn still causes a lot of edible emotions in other people). But yeah, any Watcher would be able to tell if someone was a Listener!! And Listeners are able to tell if somebody is a Watcher, although their Player usually won't understand what that means beyond "hey theres something Weird going on with that guy."

2.) Yep!! All watchers are structural-code and utility-code copies of each other; their memory codes and surface codes are the only things that differentiate them from one another. This does indeed have some very fun implications to ruminate on fjsbdkdnd

3.) I'm not sure if i would describe dev crystals as a "hub," if only because that sorta implies that they're habitable-- but they are indeed the center of each server cluster, and i would honestly say the description of an elliptical galaxy is totally spot on :] they can indeed maintain a high amount of servers, but if the count grows too high then they can overload and stop processing the flow of unraveled code as efficiently, which can then cause backups, which then make them blow up, which is. obviously, pretty not good akdnwkdjek

Think of the void between servers as the bottom of the ocean. Absolutely crushing depths, the kind that will kill you in an instant if you don't have the right protective gear. Voidwalkers are basically people who are so good at coding that they can keep their code from getting pulverized and walk right through it like they're taking a casual morning stroll. It takes a ton of effort and energy to do, and is very dangerous-- i would say you have to be EXCEPTIONALLY quick-thinking, an efficient multitasker, and have a lot of practical foresight to achieve it without dissolving. Hence why there aren't many of them, and I'd honestly say Xisuma is probably one of, if not the, best. The fact that he was able to take five people including himself into the in-between, and keep them all alive, is INSANE. Brother outdid himself truly

As for interserver travel, thats something im currently working on lore-wise (and will hopefully be able to post about soon)!!! But the basic gist im working off of right now is that there are servers that act as server hubs, or waystations-- basically servers whose only purpose is to act as an in between point to access other servers. I'm toying with the idea of special portals called launchers, and the concept of zip files/share folders + creating folds in the fabric of the Greater Code to cross vast distances within a short distance. If you've read A Wrinkle In Time, thats the sorta thing im thinking of. But unfortunately right now its all spaghetti in my brain, so im still working on straightening that out until i can explain my thoughts coherently 💀💀💀💀

I can say rn that travel between dev crystals and their server clusters is not possible just yet. The universe is fucking HUGE, and there are countless devs and server clusters within it; the ability to travel between them isnt quite feasible right now, but it'll get there eventually :] not within the scope of the main story, though-- all of that fully takes place in this single corner of the universe

For dev crystals themselves, i picture them looking a lot like giant end crystals!!! the thought is that end crystals are basically like. a mini version of a dev, and that the beams you see healing the ender dragon are bursts of raw code pulled in from the rest of the server. so yeah, end crystals except massive on a scale we can barely comprehend and also ten million times more explosive (and more capable of handling the stability of an entire server cluster so it doesnt collapse in on itself)

4.) LAST BUT NOT LEAST. I. will fully admit when i wrote the walking on the void it was, at the time, a purely aesthetic choice. But i am legitimately thinking now about the implications of that, and toying with a few concepts that i wanna noodle on more before i fully commit to them. Sorry for leaving it a mystery for now!!!! 😂😂😂😂 it'll probably get answered in the post i'll eventually make about launchers and interserver travel

hope these were helpful and continue fueling your brainrot!!! thanks for being patient while i wrangled my brain enough to answer them :]❤️❤️❤️❤️

#shouting speaks #asks #hunger au #VERY FLATTERED THIS IS YOUR HYPERFIXATION :DDD #hope this provides some good answers!!!#long post #txt

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notmrkillwolf666 · 2 years

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An innocent man was falsely accused/framed for something he didn't do, was sent to an alien jail and everyone in there think he is a Hired Killer.

(I post it on here: https://www.reddit.com/r/humansarespaceorcs/comments/ulhio9/an_innocent_man_was_falsely_accusedframed_for/ and I want to re-repost it on here)

A man named Willie was framed for something he didn't do, as punishment, he was sent to an alien jail on the far side of the galaxy. when he got there, one of the aliens ask him how did he end up here?.

"I was a cleaner" a janitor "I am still trying to understand how this all happen?!." the alien thinks 'cleaner' is a nickname for a contract killer and the news of that share like crazy in there.

it didn't help for Willie that he was actually really good at his job and clean up messes like they didn't happen in the first place which add more fuel to the fire.

(someone can take this idea and go nuts with it.)

---

(the person who replay that post)

A1: a large spider-like alien asks So Human Willie, answer my questions and we might forgive this transgression. What has cursed me with your presence in my cell? What is your occupation? And who is your sponsor?

Willie: Well I don’t want any trouble. I got assigned as your cell mate, but what does my job matter?

A1: mandibles rattling in a laugh Human you are in my nest. Either you answer or I will use your skin as my bedding.

Willie: Oooookay then…. I was a cleaner. Worked many gigs on many worlds, a few space stations as well.

A1: A….a cleaner you say? And…. Who did you say your sponsor was?

Willie: Sponsor? I don’t have a sponsor, never needed one. Jobs always payed well enough, I just ran on my own power. Sometimes Ive had to…. Haggle…. with my customers but they always paid.

A1: I apologize, please forgive my hostility. A cleaner is an honored professional among T’carians. I offer you the choice of bunk as tribute for my insolence.

Willie: I…ummm thanks? I think id prefer the bottom bunk if thats okay?

A2: in walks a giant mantis What is this? A tasty snack has found its way into your web on its own?

A1: SILENCE!!! This is the a Cleaner you are speaking to! You will show him due respect or you may find yourself washed up.

A2: Oh….oh no… I am sorry please forgive me, I ment no offence. Please, I have some food rations I was saving but they are yours. I will retrieve them. Please don’t hurt me. runs away

Willie: What the fu-in walks/slimes a slug like being

A3: Hahahah why did Clix’tiab run out of here looking like he was going to void his bowels? He looked like he’s seen a-notices Willie oh no…… hey man Willie I got your money, I wasn’t trying to hide from you I just have been locked up is all. Don’t worry, Ill get right on having those credits sent to you right now. runs away

Willie: ….Well at least hes gonna pay me after that bullshit party he threw. Fuckin mess that was. Had eggs everywhere but was supposed to get paid extra to make sure the place was spotless after. You ever have to scrape burnt eggs from a cast iron pan?

A1: I….I have to go. It….I…think I heard my name called. I must go. flees

---

(something I made/add on to this idea)

ok, imagine this. one of the aliens in the jail got curious and ask him "what kind of place did you hate...'cleaning' at?" and Willie is immediately started to talk about one of the worst places that he had to clean up, a 4 out 5 star restaurant.

"OH! you want to know?!, let's talk about... 'that place' which I can't say because for an obvious reason." they pay him a lot of money to not say anything about it "but oh my fucking god, the money they give was not enough, I had to ask them to double my pay or I was going to throw them under the bus. because... have you cleaned up rotten meat before?... it's a nightmare, the smell, look, and hell, even when I had the gas mask on, I can still taste it in the back of my throat right now."

"it was so hard trying not to throw up and make more of a mess that was already going on in their place. and I hope you like putting trash bags inside of trash bags because that is what you need to do or you have that shit leaking through the bag."

"it was pure nightmare but one of the important things I learn and for some reason, if you need to clean up rotten meat. use lemon juice, lemon juice is going to be your best friend if you want to clean up and remove the smell off of you." that job took him 10 hours to get it done.

the alien who asks that is now very scared.

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memaidraws · 3 months

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On Repeat Playlist Tag Game

Rules: Shuffle your repeat playlist 10 times and tag 10 people. Tagged by @flymmsy 😘

If you've ever wanted to laugh at my musical tastes, no better opportunity now, folks!

I know a lot of you guys are within the venn diagram of shared/mutual fandoms, so what I'll do for this (to make things interesting) is assign a pairing for each song and a wee rationale as to why ;)

Tagging: @defira85 @atypicalacademic @dirty-bosmer @henbased @braindancer @feykiller @vasiktomis @circlejourney @chickenparm @sweatandwoe (sorry if you've been tagged before!)

SHEPARD / GARRUS (Mass Effect) Okay, Reina's technically not 'Shepard', and this is a big cheat because Jeon Somi is her voice claim haha. Definitely a song she's released out of spite when Garrus all but disappeared to play vigilante on Omega ;)

MARTIN SEPTIM / MARINA CORVUS (TES IV: Oblivion) Listen, listen, this song is so perfectly them it actually kind of hurts a lot. To people that surrounded Martin, Emperor-to-be, Marina was exactly the kind of troublemaker they needed him to stay away from. But to Brother Martin the man made of flesh? She was everything to him uwu

GORTASH / DURGE (Baldur's Gate III) Come on now, the lyrics are PERFECT for a Durge lamenting about the big dumb crush she's got on Enver and oh my god? He likes her back? (She says, kicking her feet in the air, after a bloody massacre, much to Sceleritas Fel's dismay)

MAYOR HANCOCK / LEE (Fallout 4) UGH oh my god so I know Lee Know from Stray Kids is his faceclaim but this song is very much them. Wanting to run away, seeking freedom where they can take it? Not wanting to take shit for all the crap that's been thrown their way? Yeah <3 Maybe for a modern AU <3

GORTASH / DARK URGE (Baldur's Gate III) It's not cheating! If Kill! Kill! Kill! was from Durge's perspective, I can see this being from Gortash's perspective (the fact this is one genuine emo/alt??? perfect for Gorty's aging rockstar look). Like come on, it's in the name, the lyrics, the screamo bridge? Davey Havok knows what's up.

ONMUND / ALREK (TES V: Skyrim) Oh man. Oh man so this particular album from Bastille has been very Onmund/Alrek coded to me (for reasons I won't get into yet ;D) But this is very much like Alrek watching the world quite literally burn and the only thing he can think of is courting the cute mage and throwing all his cares into the wind. After all, when the world's ending, why does any of it matter?

CAPT DELACOURT / MC (Heart of a Sky Pirate) Hey, my otome game officially lives on an app, so this counts ;D But these more upset, shanty-esque songs definitely reminds me of Delacourt and his romance route. Throwing your cares to the wind (literally) and having a grand ol' time no matter where the adventure takes you.

F!SOLE SURVIVOR / CURIE (Fallout 4) Hear me out: I think Parker's (my sole) romance with Curie is almost highschool puppy love. And it doesn't help that they both have some pretty huge baggage that they need to work through-- so having someone to lean on and love in a way that's easy, carefree and happy? Yeah they're gonna hold onto that <3

STELLE / MARCH 7TH (Honkai: Star Rail) Forever crying that my Caelus is getting so many better pulls than my Stelle, but fwiw, I definitely think Stelle and March have a very fun, easy-going relationship. Kinda need to when you're Trailblazing across the galaxy in a giant space train (and angering gods along the way, oops!)

GALE DEKARIOS / TAV (Baldur's Gate III) Hear me out: I think these two would be so into each other in the way that they absolutely would not leave each other alone. You think Astarion/Tav is bad? These two have it worse. To be more precise, my Tav for this romance, Rae, is very much into exploring his romantic curiosities with Gale. No one else makes him feel as safe and wanted uwu

#music tagged #if you weren't tagged and wanna participate go ahead!#just say I tagged you and I'll come check it out!#no obligation btw to those who were tagged!#Spotify

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tyo-mimt · 5 months

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5/36. @tmnt-event-blog

Time is often better spent on compromise than arguing.

(a/n: tumblr. i need more colours. this was already a hard enough prompt to write /lighthearted)

It's rare to see every single member of the Hamato Clan present and accounted for under the same lair. While the turtles and Splinter were always there, April had less time to visit, Sunita's visits relied heavily on April's presence, the Caseys were always off doing something in New York, and Draxum only ever visited whenever disaster struck or if he didn't have that tri-monthly lunch ladies' assemblage.

So naturally, it was difficult for everyone to be there for one big gathering.

But on the off chance that everyone could make it, it's only natual everyone would want to capitalise on it. April and Sunita brought the pizza (lots of it), the Caseys brought drinks (even more of it), and Draxum brought seating (who knew man-sized plants could make for such comfortable chairs? Learn something new every day). What could go wrong?

Well, maybe the fifteen minutes they had spent arguing about the same topic: which movie to watch.

"We've been over this, Jupiter Jim Sails The Seven Galaxies makes Mikey and Leo fight!" Sunita sighed.

"We'll promise to fight extra quiet for the ending," Mikey argued.

"Yeah! And at least we won't have Raph die of boredom and break another table via Jupiter Jim's Pluto Vacation IV!" Leo was quick to add.

"But it's a musical! It's the only worthwhile thing about the movie!" Draxum emphasised.

"I refuse to spend three hours watching the funny space man look for ice!" Cassandra asserted, squeezing the life out of her red cup.

"How about a Lou Jitsu movie instead?" Splinter brought up.

"Pops, don't take this the wrong way, but everyone and their mothers has seen every Lou Jitsu movie at least twice," Donnie deadpanned.

"Even already CJ's seen Punch Chowder three times! And those two times were in the apocalypse!" Raph mentioned.

"Then three times simply isn't enough!"

The entire room burst into a chorus of disagreement; the order they all once established was now chaos as the line-up of movies remained as limited as they always did.

Casey could understand; time's precious, and there wasn't always enough of it.

Back in the other timeline, disputes like this would've been resolved through compromise... The movie displayed was always determined by luck of the draw. Easy when their selections were always limited. Those movie screenings weren't mandatory, but Casey did attend every one... It was more time spent with loved ones, and he knew better than to let this argument drag on any longer.

He cleared his throat to grab everyone's attention. "How much time do you all have to fight over this?"

"I have tomorrow off," April answered.

"We're both free all the time," Cassandra added.

"It's a weekend, everyone's probably free tomorrow," Sunita said.

Casey sighed, exhaling in relief; they just gave him the answer, "Well, we have two movies we want to watch, and we all don't have somewhere to be tomorrow, so how about we watch both of them?"

Agreements rang through the air. As the tension in the air mellowed down from the prior polarising argument, everyone assumed their positions. The turtles took up a bulk of the floor in a pile, stacked onto each other.

The first movie started; Splinter was the first to inch towards the turtles, taking a seat on one side of Raph's shell. Then April and Sunita clambered onto the other side, claiming the spot as their own. Draxum even pulled a beanbag over to sit closer to the crowd. The second movie rolled in, and the pile turned upside down. Raph had gathered everyone sitting there into a sitting embrace; Cassandra grabbed Casey and pulled him over to join them all. Casey found himself nestled next to his mom-turned-sister and Raph's arm as he watched the movie play on.

But in the end, plagued with the drowsiness from too much pizza and the night creeping in, no one got to see the ending of Jupiter Jim Sails The Seven Galaxies.

#writing #rottmnt #tmnt holiday bingo #peppermint lane #rottmnt april #rottmnt sunita #rottmnt cassandra jones #rottmnt casey junior #rottmnt draxum #rottmnt splinter #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey

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