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onlyswan · 2 months

Text

summary: in which you want to turn back the clock and jungkook wants you to stay.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / word count: 5.8k

content/warnings: mistreatment of service workers / oc felt inappropriately touched by a customer (only mentioned in passing) / (oc works part-time in a restaurant) (then quits) / another dive into oc’s lore / allusion to death / grief grief grief / lots of crying :( / jk wants to move in together :") / mention of s*x (24/7=heaven?) / mention of period blood (they’re in diff contexts js to be clear lol) / u will get pissed and cry and laugh it’s fun <3

playlist! knees - iu ; chinese satellite - phoebe bridgers ; love wins all - iu

> in which masterlist

note: contains lil flashblacks from the giving up drabbles ^^ can be found in the timeline masterlist above this incase u haven’t read them and want to ^^ listen to love wins all when jungkook tells oc to wear their seatbelt (trust me). tried to encapsulate the epiphany of oh. everything’s going to be okay because i am loved when i’m at my lowest. as always reblogs & feedback are appreciated :") come chat!!

—

the rusty swing-set creaks as you unsteadily swing back and forth, staring lifelessly at your white socks and shoes stained with burnt orange. you look up to the sky but the moon and the stars are shrouded by the clouds. not even your favorite snack can poison your sadness with optimism. mouthful of bungeoppang, but you taste nothing, and every swallow only adds to the heaviness weighing on your chest.

your shift should be ending by now, which means you probably should be heading home, but your limbs have given up and refuses to move.

jungkook’s special ringtone ceaselessly disrupts the night scene’s quiet, but there’s no point in answering his calls when you know no words would come out of you.

“are you an imbecile?! you can’t understand basic instructions?!”

“ma’am, i’m so sorry. i’ll take it back and give you the right ord-”

“we’re fucking starving! move faster!”

you flinch as the bowl collides with the tiled floor, producing an ear-splitting sound that reverberates throughout the entire restaurant. you want to give the woman the benefit of the doubt and believe that she just shoved the bowl a little too harshly due to her frustration, but you have a hand over your mouth not due to shock, but the inexplicable pain of having your skin burnt by the piping hot soup… and she’s just… there.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! please understand. she’s just in a bad mood. she’s not- she’s not usually like this.”

you stand on your spot, frozen and speechless, as her husband profusely apologizes. you’re only jolted out from trance when you feel him wiping your legs with crumpled tissue papers, a little too farther up for your comfort. a fleeting tug-of-war ensues when you forcefully rip them away from his hands. you thank him despite not meaning it.

you grip the edge of your skirt as you sit on your heels, picking up the broken shards of glass scattered across the floor. a concerned co-worker swoops in with a broom and you instantly jump the opportunity to save yourself from the mortifying stares, mumbling another thank you as you take your leave.

“you said table six.”

“____, i’m sorry. that was a fault on my part.”

your manager observes your current state. his stare lingers at your feet.

“but they don’t know that! she literally burnt me!”

“look, we don’t have to take this too far. it couldn’t have been that hot. we can see you’re still walking.” his condescending tone makes you feel so small, but it fuels the anger inside of you. “you don’t have to pay for the damages, so let’s just put this behind us.”

you gasp in disbelief, and it borders on a laugh. you feel crazy. you can’t believe this is actually happening to you. he can’t be fucking serious.

the workers in the kitchen remain quiet as tension arises, minds a tornado of thoughts but mouths remaining shut in fear of getting on the bad side of their superior.

“well you…” you hastily strip off your apron, bunching it up into one big ball. “don’t have to pay me anymore, because i fucking quit! i hope this place burns down!”

and you ensure that it hits him on the face before you turn around to march out of the kitchen. on the way out of the restaurant, you nonchalantly grab a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting off the cap as you push the door open. you leave a wet trail behind your steps as you pour the cold water over your feet, a poor attempt to soothe the sharp pain of the injury.

you know it will be alright eventually; you will heal, but this… this is leaving a permanent scar on your dignity.

with a vexed groan, you retrieve your vibrating phone from your pocket.

LAST EVICTION NOTICE— you do not even bother reading the rest of the words that come after that.

“fuck!” you scream, throwing the bottle at the nearest wall, hands coming up to your hair to roughly pull in frustration. the heels of your palm dig into your eyes and your knees give way to the ground. “this is a nightmare.”

it dawns on you that you’ve finally arrived at a surface on the rock bottom that you so awfully dread. you find yourself standing here— infront of the atm machine, staring blankly at the large number displayed on the screen. this money isn’t yours. this didn’t come from your blood, sweat, and tears. it’s an amount that you’re supposed to accept as a payment for the eulogies you had to deliver. you swore you would never do this, but desperate times come when you’re forced to swallow your pride and allow it to rot you from the inside.

you’re once again faced with the ugly difference between surviving and living.

you grab the cash, hastily pushing them inside the pocket of your jacket as if you’re being burnt by them. you feel so nauseous; if only emptying your stomach would untangle its knots.

you don’t need anything from anyone. this is the first and the last time, you swear to yourself in place of your defeated oath.

you don’t want jungkook to see you like this, helpless and hollow, the antonym of the sun he willingly flew too close to. you look pathetic seeking for solace in an abandoned playground, unfortunate soul stuck at fifteen, in denial of the passage of time.

but there goes your lover running towards you, calling out your name, and you begin praying for yourself to disappear into thin air.

much to your disappointment, no wiser being grants your plea, and now you have a man tucking you in his safe embrace, uncaring of his knees being bruised by the ground.

does he need to surprise you when you least anticipate his presence?

“i’ve been looking everywhere for you! i went to pick you up at the restaurant but they told me that you quit! what happened?”

he pulls away, tenderly cupping your cheeks in his warm hands.

“was it your boss again? it’s him, isn’t it? what did he do?”

jungkook dies a little inside. your glassy eyes study his face, a clear picture of distress and concern, but at the same time, they seem so far away… like you’re not certain if you’re truly here.

you unconsciously squirm— your feet retract themselves, escaping underneath the swing; and your ankles twist, and twist, one hiding behind the other.

this doesn’t feel like being stripped naked.

you feel like you’re being turned inside out.

“what’s wrong? baby…” he utters sadly as tears drip from your lashes—one by one— even they are lost and hesitant.

your distant stare remains.

he doesn’t know if you’re even aware that you’re crying. it’s a frightening sight and he doesn’t know what else to do. he holds you in his arms but you feel too stiff for this to be comfortable. the time passes, and he lets it do so in silence.

he waits for you to come back to him.

he waits, and waits, and waits.

“jungkook… i want to go home.”

“okay. i’ll bring you home, baby.” he strokes your hair, breathing out in relief. “yours? or mine?”

only for his world to crumble into pieces.

“my mom…” you whisper, breathless, releasing yourself from his embrace. “i want to be with my mom.”

and only then does he see traces of emotions written on your face.

“i miss my mom so much.”

the crack of your voice gives him an opening to catch a glimpse of your heart, that is but a mosaic of broken parts. pain, grief, longing… the past two years haven’t been enough to make him well-acquainted with the anatomy of your afflictions. he has only witnessed you speak of your family with a proud and affectionate beam; old stories that spark the agent of joy. and despite knowing that you must’ve been battling your pain all these years all alone, he couldn’t bring himself to meddle with how you handled your grief. however, if he’s going to be completely truthful, he was terrified of this— of seeing you so unmoored and broken. his pain is no comparison. quite frankly, it is an insult to yours.

“i miss her so, so, so much. what do i do? i…” you sobs become uncontrollable, overcome by the weight of the world crashing down on you.

how is it possible that you feel nothing and too much at the same time? is what you would often ask before, but today you realize that your pain simply goes beyond what any of your human parts is able to fathom.

“this is too hard… it’s too tiring. i can’t- i can’t. i don’t want to be here anymore. i’m always so scared. i don’t know what i’m doing anym-”

“shh, shhh, baby- baby, breathe for me-”

“how did my life end up like this? i don’t understand! the world- it’s so cruel- i can’t stand it.”

jungkook wipes away your tears, but it’s no use. once you break down, it becomes impossible to remedy. nonetheless, that doesn’t deter your boyfriend from trying. he gathers your weeping and trembling vessel in an attempt to glue you back together, and in while doing so, he also wills himself to be strong for you.

“why did she have to go after them and leave me all alone here? am i not her child too?”

the obtuse questions you’ve been too afraid to ask out loud are being brought out in the open, spilling out from the torn seams of your soul as they’ve become too agonizing to annihilate over and over and over again.

you know the answer. you know she didn’t want to leave.

but you can’t help but to be angry at the fact that her heart gave up. you don’t understand why it had to happen and why you’re being grinded in the mouth of the world.

“i’m tired, i’m so tired. it’s so unfair… i need her with me too…”

jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, gently rocking your tangled bodies — a defense mechanism. you’re succumbing to defeat as if it’s been long overdue; even your voice is giving up on you.

if he had to imagine, the earth must have shared his current dread when it witnessed a solar eclipse for the first time, wired to assume the worst of perpetual darkness.

“jungkook…”

your weak fists desperately grasping at the fabric of his hoodie— the final thread you are hanging on. your words break into stutters and hiccups, salty tears slipping past your lips and stirring their bitter taste.

“i just want to go and be my mom’s child again.”

and he would truly fucking hate to try and get into the implication of your words, but if jungkook is going to be completely truthful— he is terrified beyond words can say. of this; of witnessing you slip away from everything you’ve ever known; of losing you. maybe he’s being selfish, but whatever it takes, he will make you stay.

he swallows the lump in his throat, hurriedly drying his eyes with his sleeve before facing you.

“listen to me, okay…?” his voice isn’t enough to pull your head from underwater; he lightly taps your cheek, even though it breaks his heart. “hey, hey, hey. look at me, baby- look at me.”

he searches for your eyes, begging them to focus on him. and it’s silly, what he does next, pressing a kiss to your lips as if this is a fairytale. but then it works— you tilt your head to subtly nuzzle your cheek against his palm— and he has to quickly recover from being taken aback. you effortlessly make a slave out of his heart.

“you never stopped being her child. and that will never happen! because even with them being gone, you haven’t stopped trying your best to be a good child and older sibling to them. i… i’m a witness to that. every single day. are you hearing me?”

can he get some sort of sign whether he is doing this right or wrong?

“you’re not alone here because you have me. you do know that, right?”

and you want to believe him… you do. but just like how you’re clinging onto him right now for dear life, you can’t forget how you had to beg him to stay.

“so stop working all these jobs! please, i’m begging you! it must also break your mom’s heart to see you torturing yourself like this. it’s not healthy! just focus on studying and let me take away your burdens, please?”

you stop breathing; your features soften like you’ve made it out of a nightmare.

“jungkook…”

“let’s live together, baby.” he sounds sure; he sounds steady, but the waver of his eyes beseeches you. “you’ve been so good to me, even when i didn’t deserve it. please… let me love you in my own way too.”

“stop. i told you… i’m still thinking about it.” you say meekly, avoiding his intense gaze. “i mean, let’s be honest. what would your family even think of me? your aunt already hates me. what if she uses this to prove that she was right about me and-”

“fuck what everyone else thinks. i couldn’t care less.”

the reminder of the disrespect you were subjected to because of him has him seething all over again. his jaw clenches in anger, and he feels obligated to take a deep breath so he can keep himself composed. growing up, he was always taught to be the bigger person, but he simply can’t implore himself to do that if it means turning a blind eye to your hurt.

“i won’t let her get away with that type of bullshit so don’t even bother thinking about her anymore. i’ll take care of it. we can’t let that get into our heads. right, baby? we said that?” his thumb caresses your cheek softly, and you hold on to his wrist, silent as you try to understand him through the thick haze clouding your mind. “i want to be with the person i love. how could that be so wrong?”

you slowly shake your head in response, a little hesitant.

“i won’t leave again. no matter how hard you push me away, i will stay within your reach.”

and here he is, kneeling infront of you, seeking to make true of what he solemnly vowed to you.

are you going to take this away from him? after everything you’ve gone through together?

he is the only thing you have left to lose.

“i love you.” you whisper, initiating the hug this time.

you’re holding him tight, like you don’t ever want to let go, and it brings jungkook to the brink of tears once more.

“i love you so much.”

he sweetly kisses your cheek, but when you pull away to give him that look, a wordless command for more, his lips finally meet yours for the first time in forty-eight hours. they slowly curve into a smile, not at all surprised that he’s tasting sugar. he’d go through hell and back to experience this kind of kiss one time, only to do it all over again.

“let’s go home?”

you blink at him cluelessly. you don’t know why he’s wearing a dimpled smile out of the blue, neither do you know which home he is referring to. nevertheless, you intertwine your fingers with his, choosing to save yourself from this forlorn neverland.

there’s just… one teeny… tiny problem…

“shit,” you mutter to yourself, freezing on your tracks.

“what’s wrong?”

you awkwardly glance down at your shoes, the origin of the squeaky sound that was impossible to be missed by your ears. after inspecting you from head to toe, a worried expression morphs on his face, and you can only show him a shy wince in response.

“i don’t want to make your car dirty.”

“baby…”

his chest feels so much heavier. he is nearly blinded with red. he wants to scream and be infuriated. what the fuck happened back there?

you merely shrug, sending him a forced smile. “do you still have those extra slippers?”

—

“jungkook, i can do it myself.”

he clicks his tongue, his hand around your calf gripping. “stay still!”

you watch him from the passenger seat, your legs dangling from the edge as he carefully takes off your shoes and socks, yet again kneeling on the ground.

“does it hurt a lot?”

“not… a lot.” you answer through gritted teeth.

perhaps the stinging never did quell; it was just pushed to the back of your mind when more painful things surfaced succeeding it.

“who did this to you, huh? i need to go back there and make them pay! what kind of decent human being would do that?!”

“a miserable woman in a miserable marriage.”

in her eyes, you may be naive and she, the decades old wiser— but who is the one with a lover who would wash not their dirty hands, but their feet that have walked a million miles?

“i feel bad for her.” you comment absentmindedly.

you’re too far deep in awe watching jungkook gingerly clean your bare feet with his hands and a bottle of cool water, doing what you were meant to do earlier, if only granted that you weren’t erupting with rage.

“____, you’re too nice.”

“you’re too nice.” you argue. “also, those shoes are hopeless. just throw them away.”

he glances at you with fondness, shaking his head as he softly pats you dry with a clean towel. you stifle a gasp. it’s no longer as bad as before, but your skin still feels warm and raw. this wasn’t in the job description. you decide that you can practice empathy, as well as your strong belief in karma, at the same time. at this moment, you hope that the universe is already crafting tricks up its sleeve, because you’re in a world of fucking pain.

“there you go. wait until we get off the car before you wear the slippers, alright? and you’re not allowed to wear tight shoes.”

he rises to his feet, not wasting the opportunity to steal a kiss.

“yeah, it was wildly uncomfortable.” you mumble against his lips, tugging at his collar to properly respond to his display of affection. “thank you.”

“wear your seatbelt.” his eyes shines with a glint of with uncontainable excitement. “we’re going home.”

—

you stir as jungkook gently shakes your body awake, his muffled voice gradually becoming clearer as you gain your consciousness.

“wake up, baby. we’re here.”

you tiredly rub off the sleep from your swollen eyes, discovering your boyfriend waiting for you where the door of the passenger seat should be.

“let’s get you some more rest.” he places a chaste kiss on your forehead, before standing aside to make way for you, offering his hand as a gentleman.

you must still be dreaming. you assumed he would bring you to his apartment, but you do not recognize this place. this is a different parking space, a different parking lot.

“um… t-this is…” you stumble on your words, feeling lost. “where are we?”

“home,” he smiles, the kind that reaches his eyes and turn them into little crescent moons.

you must still be dreaming. the clock attached to a nearby pillar strikes midnight, and unbeknownst to you, a brand new day awaits beyond the dark and empty sky.

you were so thoroughly convinced that you’ve been living a life past the point of salvation… but life stands before you overflowing with hope and glowing with ardor.

you take his hand and allow him to whisk you away to another world.

—

this is beginning to feel real, jungkook thinks as he presses the elevator button. earlier’s excitement becomes interweaved with nervousness. he’s a little dizzy as the giant box ascends. if you feel his hand’s growing clamminess, you don’t show it, your clasp still as firm as before.

“you bought another house…”

“hmm, but this one is a secret.” a confession that is yours truly. “this one is ours.”

your eyes wordlessly speak with each other. neither of you imagined following your hearts could materialize your future plans to the present time. what goes beyond dreaming of beautiful things is still foreign to the both of you, but jungkook is here, willing to free fall with you.

the elevator dings.

he guides you through a well-lit hallway, to a door, and you pay close attention as he punches in the passcode— another set of numbers you ought to have memorized alongside birthdays and anniversaries and id numbers.

your heart races but everything else moves in slow motion. the door opens and you get swallowed by the need to remember every moment so vividly as if you’re reliving it.

the first time you set foot into your own apartment,, the empty space daunted you despite its modest dimensions. however, right now, your head is tracing half of a circle, from left to right, just to study this large space in its entirety— and all you can think about are the endless possibilities forming intimate images of a sanctuary in your head— a place where fears and sadness can co-exist with tenderness and joy.

beside you, jungkook patiently holds your hand.

“this one is ours…” you repeat the words, more so to convince yourself, and they drip with disbelief.

you follow his lead as he walks to the other half of the room, bare feet sliding across the floor.

“this is the living room, and the other side is the kitchen.”

he faces you with a wide grin, the kind he wears when he wants to tell you something he is proud of.

“i was thinking that if we get a big television bolted on the wall…”

he gestures to the blank canvas, letting go of your hand to draw an invisible rectangle on the air with his arms fully outstretched.

“then we can easily watch even from the kitchen.”

he puffs up his chest, side-eyeing you expectantly.

“genius, right?”

“and greedy.” you blink. “i don’t think that’s safe to do while you’re cooking.”

“but i’ll be very, very careful!”

“that’s the bare minimum when you’re holding a knife.”

“okay! i look forward to arguing with you about that on a different day!”

his enthusiasm doesn’t waver. in fact, it is fueled. how could it not? when you’re starting to sound exactly like a couple who lives together?

he captures your wrist and tugs you towards the other side of the room, but you pull him back with a noise of protest.

“are we not going to address…” you hang on to your words, eyes wandering to the floor where there are signs of living. “whatever is going on here?”

a single mattress with a single pillow; a folded blanket neatly sitting on top of it. surrounding them are bottles of water, a laptop, a speaker, and a basket of what you assume are skincare products.

“i’ve been sleeping here lately…”

“i can see that.”

“i didn’t want to buy furnitures yet while you haven’t given me an answer… i just thought that if we’re living together, then we should decide on those things as a couple.”

…he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…”

his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh.

“going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”

jungkook feels your stare. oblivious of your thoughts reigning chaos, he tilts his head in question.

how long has he been planning this?

“you okay?”

you blink away the tears brimming your eyes. you shake your head, clinging to his arm. “where were you taking me?”

“this is the kitchen!”

a smile of contentment graces your lips. you’re guilty of admiring the pure, unadulterated joy on jungkook’s face instead of what he is passionately endorsing to you.

“this is the fridge!” he presents to you, swinging the door open. “but there’s nothing inside.”

“what are you saying? there is something.”

the two of you peer at the green can of soda, chilsung cider, left at a far corner. the refrigerator light casts over your curious faces.

“oh, that’s still there?”

the animated sound of your giggles prompts him to look at you, and he couldn’t be more glad to be laughing with you again, bellies aching at the same time.

“do you want it?”

“it’s not peach.”

“let’s move on then!”

there are cups of ramyeon and packs of dried seaweed on the countertop, the photo of his dinner that he sent last night still vivid in your memory. your hand daintily brushes across the white marble, stealing a feel as jungkook drags you to a new space.

“this is the second kitchen and laundry room!”

he waits for a reaction as you survey the room and its overhead cabinets.

“it’s not supposed to be the pantry…? eh, you know what? cooking and doing laundry are more of your thing so you can have them however you want.”

you turn on your heel to walk away, and jungkook follows behind you, celebrating his victory by punching the air and whisper-shouting a yeah!

“what’s here?”

you reach another hallway beside the living room.

“what’s here?” he zooms past you to open a door. “bathroom. there’s a bathtub! but i still need to install grip bars so no one will slip.”

he needs to stop saying things that make you want to make him your husband on the spot.

“and we have my favorite part! the master bedroom, of course!” he swings the door open on the other side. “where else would we spend the most time in?”

“wow, really? i thought you were also endorsing the living room as the bedroom.” you jokingly quirk an eyebrow.

“nonsense!” he cheekily chides you. “you deserve better than that.”

you take a step, peeking inside the empty room that you estimate to be as twice as larger than yours. you can’t say that you care so much about its size, because behind the white curtains, you reel at the prospect of the natural light shining over your face every time you wake up. your mornings have been gloomy since you arrived at seoul four years ago.

he sneaks his arms around your waist, your back resting against his chest, and your being feels so light you might just begin floating when he lets go.

“let’s stay like this for a while.”

“okay,” he puts his chin on top of your shoulder, his soft smile becoming permanent.

the two of you stand at the bedroom’s doorway; the cusp of what could be your entire lives.

“what’s that other room?”

“which one?”

“i don’t know. i see it from the side of my eye.”

he cackles at your humorous nonchalance. “i have more to show you. there’s a guest room… if we decide it to be.”

“cute. i have somewhere else to sleep when i’m mad at you.”

“that’s fine,” he replies after a beat of silence. “at least i’d know where to find you.”

“don’t make me change my mind.”

he cries out your name childishly, burying his face by the crook of your neck. he hugs you tighter. he wants to sleep every night drowning in the sweet scent of your hair. if he had to choose, it would be the most peaceful way to go.

“we have a walk-in closet too!”

“i expected nothing less.” you giggle, not a stranger to his lifestyle. “what’s exciting is that we can finally have a big bed.”

“but i like our small beds.”

“cuddling isn’t all that fun during the summer. trust me, you’d eventually want space.”

“nuh-uh! that’s what aircons are for!”

you roll your eyes at his persistence. “then why did you choose such a huge apartment if you wanted a small bed?”

“so we can have all the space to slow-dance to love songs.”

jungkook, ever the charmer. the butterflies in your stomach come alive beneath his embrace.

“why are you suddenly quiet?” he laughs. “was that too cheesy?”

“no!”

“really?” he spins you around, and heat creeps to your cheeks when he leans in so close that you can perfectly distinguish the brown in his eyes. “so have you given it more thought?”

“given what more thought?”

“there’s nothing to be scared of. it’s only the two of us here, see?” he tells you like overeager puppy. “will you move in with me?”

if this is a dream, you wish to never wake up from it. to have a person care for you this deeply and unconditionally, you want to believe that you have done something right to deserve it.

“i just don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

his eyebrows knit together in defense. “what does that mean?”

“the thing is… yeah, sex 24/7 and cuddling and having first times together, that sounds amazing and all… but living with me would probably drive you crazy.”

a tired yawn almost interrupts the end of your sentence, and you cover your face out of courtesy. you sniffle and wipe your teary eyes with the back of your hand.

“i’ve lived on my own for so long. i’m messy and clumsy and i’m used to having everything my way… i mean… i’m willing to compromise, but i can’t promise i won’t be insufferable as hell about it.”

“ah, seriously! you scared me for nothing!” he exclaims, throwing his head back with a groan. “baby, i’ve been living with six other men for the past decade. you know that there was a time when we even slept together in one small room. can you imagine how that must’ve been like for a bunch of teenage boys…? you? messy? think about it again. living with you can’t possibly get worse than that. you don’t have to worry about me! really, i can take it! watch me!”

“but i bleed every month.”

“i’m a man. seeing a little blood doesn’t faze me.”

you make a face. “it’s actually a lot.”

“yah, why are you acting like we haven’t been together for two years?”

“it’s different living together!”

“it’s only natural! i don’t care!”

a noise of complaint bubbles in your throat when he shakes you by your shoulders, coaxing you with an whiny “please baby.”

your chest deflates in defeat. “sure, i guess… as long as we have the big bed, and the slow-dancing-”

“done!” he doesn’t waste his breath, not keen on wasting this opportunity. “anything you want, you have it!”

you narrow your eyes. “and i’ll keep my tutoring job.”

“will you punch the next guy that insists you study at his dorm for me?”

“or i can just keep saying no firmly, baby boy.”

and with that pet name, he instantly folds. “okay.”

“okay?”

“okay, since that’s the only one that you genuinely like.”

“you-” your teeth unconsciously finds your bottom lip to dig into, and you inhale sharply. “…you really love me, don’t you?”

suddenly, you’re raising your voice and waving your hands in the air. you’re feeling too many emotions at once; it’s like when you mix all the colors in a palette and end up creating black. you’re angry and happy and you may be fucking crying again.

“you were just picking up speakers one night and a pretty stranger offers you some boring food and now you want to be stuck with me forever?”

your fist throws a restrained punch to his chest, shoving him backwards.

“oh my god, you’re so stupid!”

jungkook finds this too amusing, tries to hide that he is enjoying this but a smirk is plastered on his face.

“you are loved by so many,” he brushes away the hair that has fallen over your eyes. he tucks them behind you ears and tenderly holds your face in his warm hands. “but i’m confident that i love you the most.”

you are the muse in his dreams. your perfume clings to his clothes. you make him the happiest man on the planet and your pain torments him. what is this, if not love?

“and if that makes me the stupid one? then so be it.”

“when did it become a competition?”

“since you got yourself a competitive boyfriend!”

“okay, fine! let’s make it my fault!”

you throw your arms around his neck, peppering kisses all over his face until he’s an uncontainable giggling mess.

“i’m drowning in kisses! nobody help!”

and you hope you’re hugging him close enough that he can feel the love and gratitude flowing through your veins. your eyes flutter shut, and you sigh— tranquility triumphs over chaos.

“are you falling asleep standing up again?”

“no!” you blatantly lie, drawing back with innocence masking your drowsiness. “we still need to go online shopping!”

“what are we buying?”

your face lights up. “appliances first?”

“appliances?” he cheerfully says. “sure! let’s get you new shoes too!”

as he gets dragged to the living room where his laptop is, he mumbles something with an enamored expression. “i should keep working hard.”

—

“yah, why are looking at me like that?” jungkook chuckles upon feeling your poorly concealed stare, diverting his attention away from the laptop over his stomach. “i’m the real deal. the tv is over there, on the screen.”

“just because…”

you snuggle closer to his side, heart fluttering when his arm that is your pillow moves to also hold you. you don’t really mind a small bed. this is the most favorable consequence a nuisance could have.

“i feel sorry.”

“sorry? for what?”

“because i made you sad, didn’t i? i hate that so much.” you sniffle, hand coming up to pat his cheek affectionately. “i know it must be hard for you too.”

“you’re the one who’s in a lot of pain.” he means to firmly speak, but the tremble of his voice rudely refuses to cooperate. “how could you even think of me feeling sad?”

“because i love you. of course i always think of you.” you argue, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “i can’t do that now?”

he sighs. “you know that’s not what i meant.”

a kiss is planted on your forehead— tender and cherishing.

“let’s be happy, baby.”

the sharp edges of jungkook’s fears are eroded in a way. in a universe that relentlessly challenges you to be optimistic, your heart that is well-versed in loving continues to rise above it all.

you echo his words wistfully. “let’s be happy.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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minami-ff · 5 months

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I Want My Kids to Have Your Eyes

Levi x Reader (fluff, sfw)

what a bold thing to say to your captain.

Moonlight hung over the hill like a comforting blanket as you both reclined an arm’s length apart on the soft grass beneath, bodies sinking into the earth. The day had been relentless, a gruelling mission that tested every ounce of strength. Now, in the quiet aftermath, you two found solace gazing upward at the summit’s view, shimmering like scattered diamonds against the canvas of the night sky.

The shared stillness remained comfortable, before you posed a soft interruption to the quietude, "Captain, do you ever think about your future?"

Levi's eyes briefly left the constellations above, attention shifting to you. "Yes, it usually ranges from the next second to the next few months. Which area of land outside the walls to explore, how defensive operations should alter for the next month, which day certain intelligen-”

“Captain-” You interrupted, then hesitated, the vulnerability of the topic making your heart race. "I meant a peaceful future, like having a family, kids?"

Levi's brow furrowed slightly. The thought of it was unfamiliar, impossible. "In this war? That’s far-fetched," he remarked, gaze returning to the stars.

A subtle smile grew on your lips as scenarios played at the back of your mind. "I know, of course, but don’t you ever imagine it? A life after the war, a future where Titans are just stories we tell our children." Levi's expression softened, a fleeting hint of wistfulness in his eyes.

"Like sometimes I think if I had children, I’d take them to play by the oceans, make adorable lunch sets," you continued, "how beautiful they would look if they had your eyes…" Embarrassment started flushing up as you realised you rambled on way too far.

His eyes widened imperceptibly, caught completely off guard by your comment.

"WAIT, that didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean having them with YOU, of course... definitely not…" You trailed off, a splash of pink painfully obvious on your cheeks. Get yourself together y/n, what on earth are you saying to your captain?

“Ouch.” A flicker of disappointment crossed his features. Levi cleared his throat, seemingly caught in the unexpected turn of the conversation. "Well aren’t you very in objection to that idea." he snickered, hiding a trace of sorrow beneath his face.

“Nevermind, I’m sorry, please forget what I said." You apologised in the tense atmosphere.

But Levi didn't dismiss it. Instead, his mind seemingly remained lost in contemplation. "How will your children have my eyes, if they don't have my genetics?" Determined to disprove your faulty reasoning.

You chuckled nervously, "I just mean I hope they’ll be a pretty colour, and delicate shape, like yours."

Levi displayed a rare vulnerability in his expression. He had never given thought to the aesthetic of his eyes; they were simply a part of him, a feature he never considered noteworthy. This was the first time he had received a compliment about them, and it left him momentarily speechless.

"At this rate, my most optimistic guesstimate is that I’ll be slaying titans till I’m 60." You broke the awkwardness joking, "in that case I might not be able to have kids, doubt any man would still take my crinkled self on a date anyway."

"Why not?" Levi replied seriously, his voice a soft echo in the tranquil night. "I won't be even a tiny bit surprised if you're still this beautiful at 85."

A blood-bathed blush adorned your complexion, stomach filling with butterflies and warmth, brain connections zapping around - wondering if he really thought that way, or,

“you’re just saying that.”

Levi sighed, “in all your years of knowing me, when have I ever felt obliged to tell a white lie, Comrade?”

"Right…” You muttered, with all sorts of thoughts doing laps beneath your skull, trying to continue the conversation as level-headed as possible. “Perhaps I'll meet my first love at 99,” a giggle escaping your breath as you joked.

Unexpectedly, Levi's response carried a weight that belied the casual banter. "Well. I think people can be in love without being in a formal relationship. You could easily have your first love now."

Your gaze laid upon his side profile, slightly puzzled by his logic, "but how can you be in love with someone without holding hands, saying mushy things, and all that?"

His head turned towards you, a moment of silence filling the air with eyes drilling into yours, revealing a sincerity that tugged at your heart. "I definitely can."

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javierpena-inatacvest · 6 months

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Movie Night

Summary: You and Javi are trying to pick a movie to watch together. When Javi decides to change into gray sweatpants to get more comfortable... something else besides movie watching ensues.

Word Count: 2.3K

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), established relationship, face fucking, oral (m receiving), mastrubation (f), praise kink, Javi in gray sweatpants (it deserves its own warning), reader has hair that can be held, Javi being a menace but still soft and sweet (because that's just how I roll)

A/N: This was inspired by an ask from an anon (thank you, non, Javi in gray sweatpants is everything), and I'm absolutely feral completely normal about it!!! Also, I had this gif in mind the whole time I was writing this because GOD DAMN 🥴🥵

This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!!

“Forrest Gump?”

“No…”

“Jaws?”

“No, not that either…”

“Pulp Fiction?”

“Not that one…”

“Well ya gotta pick something Osita.” Javi sighed, laughing to himself at your indecisiveness as he put back the VHS tape choices he had pulled out for your weekly Friday night movie. Ever since the two of you had started dating, Friday nights had been exclusively reserved for you and Javi cuddling up on your couch, eating the pizza he picked up on the way home from work, and catching him up on the many movie classics he had missed since his time away in Colombia- a well deserved way to end both of your weeks. The first few weeks of movie night picks had been easy- mandating that Javi had to watch all of the Star Wars and Indiana Jones series (your two personal favorites) before moving on to anything else. You had let Javi pick what movies he had wanted to watch from there, mostly to curb any time wasted from your indecisiveness on choosing something.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna pick?” You groaned, squatting down next to Javi as the two of you sorted through the movie collection under the TV stand.

“Osita, I’ve picked like, the last 3 weeks in a row. I promise, I don’t care what we watch. I’ll make it easy on you. Here…” Reaching back into the TV stand, Javi pulled out a few random movies, scattering them on the ground before looking back at you. “I’m gonna go change out of my work clothes, pick something from these by the time I get back. Only 4 choices. Can’t be that hard, ya dork.” Javi chuckled, pressing a quick kiss onto your forehead before standing back up and making his way towards the bedroom.

‘Fine…” You grumbled, shuffling through the choices that Javi had left. Reaching down next to you, you picked up “The Princess Bride”, deeming it the best of the 4 random tapes Javi had pulled from the TV stand, popping it in to the VHS player before settling back onto the couch, curling up in one of the blankets you had draped over the sides. “I picked something!” You shouted towards the bedroom, hearing Javi’s footsteps beginning to make their way down the hall.

“See? Knew you could do it, Hermosa.” Javi’s voice trailed behind him as he stepped into the living room, playfully rolling his eyes at you. “So, what are we watching?”

Truth be told, you hadn’t heard a single word Javi had said since you had watched him enter the living room- Not after seeing what he was wearing.

He had changed out of his work attire and exchanged it for a fitted black t-shirt and gray sweatpants that left very little to the imagination. Javi had insisted to you that they really were the only pair of sweatpants that he had, but there was a part of you that was convinced he knew just how irresistible he looked in them, and that the sight of him in those pants made you absolutely feral.

“Hmmmm?” You replied, visibly shaking your head to try and reel yourself in from the thoughts you were already having after seeing your boyfriend walk into the room in his new outfit. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked, what movie are we watching?” He nodded towards the TV as he sat next to you on the couch, legs splayed open in a way that had the outline of his bulge perfectly pressed against the gray fabric of his pants. You could practically feel your mouth watering as you looked down at his lap- you were trying your best not to stare, but you couldn’t help but swipe your tongue along your bottom lip breathing heavily as you looked up at Javi.

“Or…” You smirked, working your way across the couch to crawl into Javi’s lap, straddling him with your legs on either side of his, running your fingers through the dark curls of his hair. “We could not watch the movie and do something else.” Your hands began to travel down Javi’s body, resting on his chest and grabbing at fist fulls of his shirt as your hips pressed down into his, feeling him starting to become hard underneath you, your kisses becoming desperate and frantic.

“Something else, huh?” You could feel Javi’s boyish grin between the presses of your lips, his hands working their way up and down your body before digging into your hips as you rolled them against his lap.

“Mhmmmmmm.” You nodded, reaching down to palm at Javi’s dick, straining against the fabric of his pants. “God, you look so good in these. You know what these sweatpants do to me, Jav?” Your kisses left Javi’s lips, slowly trailing down his body in hot, wet presses against the exposed skin of his neck and soft fabric of his shirt. You slid off Javi’s lap, kneeling on the ground in front of him, tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants, springing free his cock, already painfully hard and leaking with precum. Javi lifted his legs, shuffling his pants down to pool around his ankles, letting your hands and kisses wander up his thighs.

“Fuck me, Hermosa…” Javi groaned, leaning his head back against the edge of the couch as you planted hot kisses along his length, one hand slowly stroking the base of his shaft, the other running up and down the skin of his legs. “You wanna suck my dick, baby?”

You smirked, gently shaking your head from side to side, looking up at Javi. “I- I want you to fuck my mouth, Javi.”

Javi’s eyes went wide, jaw immediately going slack as your words left your mouth, visabally taking a moment to process your request. He reached down to cradle your face, forcing your gaze up towards his. “Baby… I don’t- Hermosa…are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you or anything.”

Regardless of what either of you wanted in the bedroom, rough, soft, or anything in between, Javi’s first priority had always been making sure that first and foremost, you were comfortable. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about your request before- as much as he loved going down on you, Javi absolutely lost his mind every time you went down on him, and the thought of you on your knees, taking his cock deep down your throat as he fucked your mouth had him rock hard.

“Javi,” You giggled, biting down on your lip, raising an eyebrow at him, “I’m positive. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t want to. I wanna make you feel good, baby.” Grabbing the hand gently cupping your cheek, you tugged at it, forcing him to stand up, running your hands up and down his thighs before removing one to lick a broad strip down your palm and wrap it around his shaft, slowly stroking it, making him groan.

“Fuck me.” He muttered to himself, watching you wrap your hand around his length and taking him into your mouth, swirling the tangy mix of his arousal and your spit around your tongue. He ran his hand through the dark curls of his hair, trying his best to keep his composure, already so worked up from just the thought of what you were about to let him do alone. “If it’s too much, you let me know, okay? Tap my leg or my arm or whatever, and I’ll stop, no questions asked, I-”

“Javi. I love you, baby. I wanna choke on your dick. I promise I’ll be okay.” You smirked, nodding in reassurance, hand still twisting around the base of his shaft, making its way up to thumb at his tip, red and leaking, sliding the mix of your saliva and his precum up and down his length.

“Jesus. Okay, Hermosa. Open that pretty mouth for me, baby girl.” He reached down, thumb tugging at your bottom lip before sliding his hand along the back of your head, carefully cradling it as your jaw hinged open, sticking out your tongue for him to place his cock on. Your eyes batted up at him through heavy lashes, gripping around the back of his bare thighs as you let your mouth relax, his length hard and heavy against your tongue as you took him between your lips. He eased into your throat, setting a slow pace as his hips gently rocked as you took him deeper into your mouth, hearing him audibly moan as your fingertips dug into the skin of his legs, urging him to go deeper, pulling him closer to you. “You sure?” Javi looked at you, eyes wide as you nodded, humming against his cock in approval, as if he knew exactly what your little gesture had meant.

Javi pulled back, pausing for a moment, a devilish smirk spreading across his face before pushing all the way back in, making you hollow your cheeks and breath through your nose, brushing up against the curls at his base, the sweet and musky scent of him filling your nostrils as you inhaled. “Oh fuck, Osita. Holy shit.” His voice rasped, hitching in the back of his throat watching your mouth fill with his cock. His fingers ran through your hair, tugging a little tighter as his thrusts began to quicken, his grunts and moans becoming louder with each push and pull. “Fuck, such a good girl taking me so well. So fucking pretty when you suck my cock baby, holy fuck.”

His other hand met his first, cupping the back of your head as he fucked into you, hitting the back of your throat as tears welled in your eyes and drool pooled from your lips as his cock consumed your mouth. You loved sucking Javi’s dick because you knew just how good it made him feel- watching his face all blissed out, leaving him a moaning and muttering mess. But this? Looking up at him through your heavy lids seeing the pure euphoria radiating off of him? It was unmatched.

You couldn’t help but rub your thighs together, trying to ease the ache that had rapidly been building between your legs, feeling the wetness pooling in the fabric of your underwear. Desperate to ease your own needs, you shifted one of the hands that was holding the back of Javi’s thigh, bringing it down to snake down your sweatpants and the waistband of your panties, humming in relief around Javi’s length as you rubbed your clit, already throbbing and pulsing before your fingers had even touched it. Feeling the absent grip of your fingertips in his leg, Javi looked down to see you touching yourself as his cock thrusted in and out of your mouth, making his jaw even more slack, while his pace became more frantic and sloppy.

“You touching yourself, baby? Fuck- sucking my cock like this got you all worked up?” Javi groaned through gritted teeth as you nodded up at him with watery eyes, hollowing your cheeks to try and keep from gagging as he brushed against the back of your throat. “Fuck meeee.” He whimpered, not sure how much longer he was going to last watching you, feeling the tingle at the base of his spine already beginning to grow. “Dirty fucking girl. I’m not gonna last much longer, baby- shit- be a good girl and make yourself cum on those pretty little fingers for me, yeah? Wanna see you- oh fuck- wanna see you cum for me before I fuck myself down your throat.”

Sliding deeper into your panties, you felt the slick covering your folds as you dipped your 2 fingers inside your heat, the palm of your hand bumping against your clit while you touched yourself, feeling equally as worked up and close to finishing as Javi was. Saliva spilled from the sides of your mouth as tears slid down your cheeks as Javi’s cock filled every inch of your mouth, the veins of his dick throbbing along your tongue. You could feel your pussy begin to flutter as your hands slid in and out of your dripping entrance, arousal pooling in your belly with each brush of your palm along your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your whimpers and moans humming around Javi’s cock had him reeling, his fingers gripping tighter around the ends of your hair as he cradled the back of your head, as he pushed deeper down your throat.

Suddenly, you could feel the coil inside you snap, your cunt clenching hard around your fingers as your orgasm ripped through you, your eyes squeezing shut and the breathing through your nose becoming heavier as you came. Knowing that you had hit your high, Javi sought relentlessly to reach his own, desperately thrusting into you. “Fuck me, Osita. Fuck. I’m so close baby, shit, gonna fill up that pretty mouth of yours. Meirda, Hermosa, ay dios mío, voy a-aahhhhhhhhh (Shit, Beautiful, oh my god, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh).” With one more push of his hips, Javi’s spilled himself inside you, hot ropes of his spend coating the back of your throat as his cock throbbed, milking himself of every last drop before pulling back out of your mouth. Both of your breaths were slow and heavy, Javi’s hand resting under your chin, tilting your messy, wet face up towards his as you swallowed, taking his cum down your throat.

“Jesus Christ…” He whispered to himself, his jaw still slack and eyes wide as he looked down at you, a devilish grin now growing across his face. “Fuck me. Fuck, that was so hot. You okay, baby?” He asked, pulling you up to stand as you used the back of your hand to wipe the spit still dripping from the edges of your lips.

“More than okay.” You smirked, pressing up on your tiptoes to plant a hot kiss on his lips, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “We’re gonna have to get you new sweatpants, Jav.” You giggled, still laughing at the fabric pooled around his ankles. Javi tilted his head in confusion, reaching down to shuffle his pants and boxers over his legs.

“Why’s that, Hermosa?”

“Because if you keep putting on those sweatpants every time we’re supposed to watch a movie, I don’t think we’re ever gonna watch a movie again.”

Taglist

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @dappydelta @blackfemalenerd

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temiizpalace · 4 months

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☆┆ITS BEGINNING TO LOOK A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS..

SUMMARY: it was time to set up for the holidays! what’s some of his favorite traditions to do with you?

CHARACTERS: all dorms (+ grim)

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: none

ROMANTIC HEADCANONS┆(GRIM & ORTHO ARE PLATONIC.)

reader gender is not mentioned, reader is yuu

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

decorating the tree

he likes decorating the tree with you. hanging up the shiny ornaments, covering the tree in the colorful lights, and hanging up the star at the end. at first, he thought decorating some pine tree was silly and unnecessary. but now, he sees the appeal. and he loves it. he asked you if you wanted to decorate another. which is why you both were outside in the snow, decorating the dead trees in front of ramshackle. you’re freezing your ass off, and he’s having the time of his life. hooray.

cater, jack, jade, vil, silver

gingerbread men + houses

the two of you stood in the kitchen, baking enough gingerbread men to make an army. while you two decorated the gingerbread men, he took some frosting and put it on your cheek. he laughs while you get him back, putting frosting on his nose. this puts a temporary pause in the decorating, and becomes an all out frosting war. nobody comes out unscathed. after awhile, you two began to make gingerbread houses. there wasn’t much frosting left, so both of your houses were falling apart. great job guys.

ace, trey, ruggie, floyd, jamil, lilia

wrapping presents

you two sat in the middle of ramshackle, wrapping presents side by side. wrapping paper, tape dispensers, and ribbons were everywhere. scattered across the already messy floor. even if your gift wrapping is really bad, he’s still going to compliment you. telling you he’s not the best even if it’s absolutely perfect. at first he wanted to bring the gift he got for you and wrap it right in front of you, just to show off how well he knows you. i know, i know, he’s impatient. but he made sure it looked FLAWLESS just for you 🫶🫶

riddle, deuce, azul, jade, jamil, sebek

all. all of the above

he’s ready. he’s going to make sure this christmas is is the holliest jolliest one you’ve ever had. oh, it’s not? then he’s pulling out the big guns. christmas inflatables!!1!1!!1!1

grim, rook, epel, ortho, malleus

chilling by the fireplace

christmas traditions are great and all, but he’d rather relax. and you both do just that. laying on the couch in ramshackle, surprised that the fireplace hasn’t burnt down your dorm yet. despite the shock, it really was quite relaxing. of course he wasn’t going to be a grinch and NOT do christmas traditions with you, but just stay here with him for a second. you can decorate your tree and cookies and stuff later. it’ll be you, him, and the fire for the next 30 minutes.

leona

christmas event

christmas traditions??? in a minute, he’s on the grind. he NEEDS this christmas skin and now. listen, he loves you. he truly does. but your normie activities can wait, right? this is a limited skin. these things can’t earn themselves. as soon as december 26th hits, it’s bye bye for that event. til he gets his event items, he’s not moving from his room.

idia

BONUS : MISTLETOE

you were just finished cleaning up after the activity you both did together, when he suddenly calls you over. he’s standing by the doorway, looking right at you. just by that, you could tell why he wants you over. with a smile, you walk over to him, trying to act oblivious to his intentions.

“remember when you said when two people meet under the mistletoe, they kiss?” he asks, a playful smirk on his face. you pretend to think about it before looking back at him. “hmm.. yes. why?”

he points up to the mistletoe hanging above both of your figures. without a second to spare, he crashes his lips onto yours.

the lighting in the room created a warm and light glow, capturing the both of you in an ambient setting. the temperature was still incredibly low inside of ramshackle, but allow his body warmth to keep you from freezing.

riddle, ace, deuce, trey, cater, leona, ruggie, jack, azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, vil, epel, rook, idia, malleus, silver, sebek, lilia

A/N: ngl I think this is my worst work yet

but anyways, merry christmas to those who celebrate! wishing you lots of luck for the new year as well.

date written: 12/25/23

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thewriteadviceforwriters · 1 month

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15 Beautiful Lover-to-Enemies Dialogue Prompts | Betrayal Prompts

"Do you remember the vows we made under the moon's gentle glow? How quickly they turned to ash, scattered by the winds of deceit."

"Your words were once my solace, but now they cut deeper than any blade forged in malice."

"In the labyrinth of our love, I found myself lost, only to realize you were the minotaur lurking in the shadows."

"Every kiss we shared was a dagger coated in honey, sweet yet deadly."

"The stars witnessed our passion, but they now mock our folly as we stand on opposite sides of a war we ourselves ignited."

"Our hearts beat as one, once upon a time. Now they drum the rhythm of discord and resentment."

"I thought I knew the depths of your soul, only to find abysses of betrayal waiting to devour me whole."

"Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, I emerge from the ruins of our love, reborn as your adversary."

"You were the melody to my symphony, but now your discordant notes shatter the harmony we once shared."

"We danced on the edge of oblivion, oblivious to the precipice that awaited our descent into enmity."

"The echoes of our laughter haunt me, mocking the innocence we thought would shield us from the venom of betrayal."

"Our love was a tapestry woven with threads of gold, now unraveling into a tangled web of lies and deception."

"I offered you my heart on a silver platter, only for you to feast upon it with the appetite of a ravenous beast."

"We were poets of passion, crafting verses of devotion with every whispered promise. Now our words are weapons, dripping with venomous intent."

"The sunrise that once painted our love with hues of warmth and hope now heralds the dawn of our animosity, casting long shadows of regret across the battlefield of our hearts."

Short Note From Me!

Many fans of Enemies to Lovers often overlook the possibility of exploring Lover to Enemies. This underrated trope is one of my favorites and I believe it has the potential to make a novel truly stand out. If you have space in your story for this unique twist, I assure you it will result in an amazing read.

I created these dialogue prompts to inspire writers to explore the theme of lovers turning into enemies, showcasing a different form of betrayal.

Happy writing - Rin T.

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luxaofhesperides · 2 months

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Post-Apocalypse + Soulmate AU ; requested by @burr-burr!

When Danny was a kid, he used to imagine how the world would end. It was never a zombie apocalypse or the fallout of a nuclear war, but the death of the sun, the expansion of their star in death that would swallow their planet whole, leaving no survivors.

It would have been nicer than the post-apocalyptic world he stands in now, knowing that it’s his fault the world has ended.

He’s still struggling to wrap his head around it. To understand that all of this is his fault because he cheated on one test, desperate to pass after being unable to study for it with how exhausting and time consuming fighting ghosts is. Everywhere he looks, there’s more destruction. His own home is rubble, with only the partially untouched Ops Center remaining to let him know that this is where he once lived.

The rest of Amity Park is in worse shape. Buildings are hollowed out, the skeletons of their foundations visible, if they still remain standing. Most homes have been burned to the ground, leaving blackened corners of walls and nothing else. The roads are cracked and difficult to walk through, as if an earthquake tore through the city. Cars are scattered along the road, overturned or left abandoned, doors still open.

Danny has yet to find any bodies. He doesn’t know if that’s a good sign or not.

He’s only caught a few glimpses of his future self, the cause of all this, and can’t bring himself to chase after that monster. He feels sick to his stomach knowing what he’ll become.

That monster has to be stopped. The world has already ended, but that doesn’t mean his future self can be allowed to go on like this. If there are any survivors, they need protection. They need to know they’ll be safe to try to start rebuilding, and that can only happen if his future self is dead.

Danny knows what he has to do; he has a responsibility to protect what little remains of Amity Park, and to do that, he needs to kill himself.

But his head it spinning from the horror of the situation and his throat is tightening up the way it only does when he’s about to have a panic attack.

He needs to stop his future self, but he also can’t stay another second in the ruins of Amity Park without destroying himself.

The guilt sits heavy in his chest as he goes ghost and takes to the sky, flying blindly towards the setting sun. Danny doesn’t know where he’s going, and he doesn’t really care. He just needs to get away for a bit, until he can calm down and put together a plan of attack so he can take out his future self in one go.

He just…

He never thought he’d be a monster. But here they are.

Flying away from Amity Park reveals the truly harrowing extent to which this world has suffered under his future self’s hands. There are no intact cities or towns. Roads are broken beyond repair, highways littered with empty cars, most bridges crumbling into the rivers below them, and everything is covered in overgrowth. All signs of humanity’s careful cultivation of the world has been erased. The earth takes back what humans took from it, covering everything in green.

There is no movement. No people. Barely any birds flying beneath him.

What remains of the world is silence.

Danny is terrified that there’s no one left. That his future self has so thoroughly destroyed the earth that no human survivors remain.

That gives his guidance, some idea of where to go: a big city. Any big city, really.

He flies lower, searching for some sort of landmark, or a sign that will tell him where he’s going. A rusted over green sign farther down the road tells him that he’s 50 miles from Gotham.

Oh, Danny thinks, Maybe Batman can help me.

If anyone could survive the end of the world, it would be the superheroes, right? If anyone stands a chance at defeating his future self, it would be a superhero. Superman might have been a better choice, but Metropolis is the opposite direction and multiple states away; Danny’s not sure he can make it before his future self catches wind of him and hunts him down.

Danny has no doubt about what would happen to him if he’s caught; there’s a reason he hasn’t seen any ghosts around, after all.

Gotham is a city of secrets and rumors. What little he’s heard of it is baffling and, frankly, insane. There’s no city in the country like it and Gothamites prefer it that way, stubbornly loving the home that will kill them. For all the manmade horrors they survive on the daily, they would be more prepared for the end of the world than anyone else.

Gotham may be another casualty of his future self’s destruction, but it also offers him hope.

Danny follows the broken road towards Gotham, pushing himself to fly faster than he ever has before. What should have been a half hour flight is completed in fifteen minutes.

As soon as the towering buildings of Gotham, dark and semi destroyed, come into view, Danny drops from the sky and returns to human form. The strain from pushing himself has exhausted him and he feels it like an ache in his chest, his heart twisting and trying to burst from how hard it’s beating.

He collapses to his hands and knees and gasps for breath on the outskirts of Gotham.

It takes a good few minutes to calm down and breathe normally, then another to gather his strength to stand up and begin walking.

The world is eerily quiet as he enters the city, feeling the chill fall upon him as he is consumed by the shadows of tall buildings. It’s much more intact that Amity Park, but there’s no denying the destruction that still surrounds him. Buildings are empty and worn down, decaying and slowly being consumed by new growth. Burnt out husks of overturned cars fill the street, leaving Danny to carefully pick his way around them, unable to walk in a straight line.

He feels like the only person in the world. He feels like he’s being watched by a hungry eyes.

Danny shivers and walks faster.

The deeper he goes into the city, the more he starts to hope that he’s not alone in this world. There’s small signs of life: the smell of smoke, recently burned, certain streets cleaned up, makeshift walls constructed from rubble to block access to certain areas of each block.

He swears he can see people move above his head, but anytime he looks up, the windows of every building are empty.

“Batman,” he whispers to himself, “I just need to find Batman.”

He turns a corner and continues walking. Apartment buildings give way to stores and businesses, all with their windows broken and nothing on the shelves. Then the buildings end abruptly and he’s left staring at an overgrown park that resembles a jungle more than it does a part of the city.

The scent of something sweet lingers in the air. Fruit, perhaps, or flowers.

If he was left in the aftermath of an apocalypse, he would go to where he could find growing food. If there’s anyone left in Gotham, he’s willing to bet they’re in here, surviving off of what food can be grown in the confines of the park.

Danny crosses the road and takes three steps onto the grass before someone appears beside him and points an electrified baton at him.

“Who are you?” they demand, eyes hidden behind a cracked helmet, but the bottom half of their face is visible, revealing scars crossing on dark skin.

Danny takes a step back, eyeing the electric baton warily, and lifts his hands to show he means no harm. “Danny. I came from out of town. I was hoping to find people here.”

“You don’t look like you’ve been traveling.”

His clothes are clean and intact and he has none of the world-weariness that weighs down this Gothamite. Danny winces, and says, “My situation is kinda complicated. But I did just get here. I’m looking for help, actually. Do you know where I could find Batman?”

There’s a long moment of tense silence, then he hears a quiet sigh and the helmet comes off. An exhausted looking man looks at him with one blind eye, turned a milky white, and his voice is low and stricken as he says, “Batman’s dead. But maybe I can help you.”

“Batman’s dead?!” Danny repeats, shocked.

“Yeah. Sacrificed himself in one of the last times Phantom attacked Gotham. Got me and Nightwing out of that encounter alive. We’re really the only heroes left in Gotham, not that there’s much need anymore with everyone trying to survive.”

Phantom killed Batman. His future self killed Batman.

Danny feels sick to his stomach.

“Oh,” he manages to say.

The man’s expression softens. “Don’t worry, we’ll help you as much as we can. Why don’t you come on in? Ivy can get you some food if you’re hungry.”

Danny nods numbly as he follows the man deeper into the park. He walks with ease, taking paths that only become visible when he walks them, leaving Danny to follow close behind. It takes some time before he realizes that the plants are moving out of their way just enough that they don’t trip, and when he looks back, the path is covered again, hidden from sight.

He’s taken to the heart of the forest, where the trees shift to the side to reveal a large encampment of survivors all living together. Beds are strung up as hammocks between trees and rope ladders dangle from branches to help people move up and down. The ground is full of small fire pits, a few in use to make make food, and sections in the back full of vegetable and herb patches, separated by berry bushes.

The people here all look tired and worn down, but they still smile and speak in light voices, adjusted to a new life after surviving so much horror and destruction. He even spots a few people using powers, or just looking different, including one large man who looks like a crocodile.

“Pick up another stray?” a raspy voice asks, humor lighting the tone. They both turn to see a woman with long red hair and a green tint to her skin be lowered to the ground by a vine. She’s also heavily scarred and her right arm is completely gone, replaced by a wooden limb covered in moss that moves as if it’s always been a part of her body.

“Hey Ivy,” the man greets, “I don’t think this one is staying. He came to Gotham looking for Batman.”

The words make Ivy’s gaze sharpen, and Danny feels a trickle of dread go down his spine. She’s dangerous and standing before her feels as if he’s in the mouth of a hungry beast.

“Is that so,” she says, voice flat. “How interesting. I’ll let you two talk somewhere more private.” Her gaze flicks to the side, and when Danny turns to look, he can see some of the people in the encampment observing them warily, bodies tense and poised to either flee or attack.

Ivy turns and the plants part for her. Danny waits for the man to begin walking before he follows, trying not to feel trapped as the plants close the path behind him. She takes them to a small pond full of water lilies, gives the man a careful look, then leaves, swallowed up by the plants.

“Is everything okay?” Danny asks hesitantly. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“Nah, you’re good,” the man replies, “It’s just that people don’t trust me much.”

“Why? You’ve been really nice.”

The man shrugs. “My soulmate is Phantom. He’s the one responsible for doing all this and killing almost everyone we love. I didn’t know until the first time I fought him, but they hate anything to do with Phantom, including me.”

Danny’s heart stutters in his chest. This is his soulmate.

Most people don’t subscribe to the belief that they’re meant to be with their soulmate. Meeting your soulmate is rare enough that most people don’t try, and plenty of people have spoken of how important it is to have a variety of relationships, to not close yourself off for the slightest chance of meeting your soulmate.

Danny never looked for his; he didn’t want to subject them to his parents, and then he became a halfa and gave up on all dreams of having a normal life or any relationship with someone who didn’t know he was Phantom.

And now he’s here, in a ruined future, standing before his soulmate who understandably hates him for destroying the world.

“You’re Phantom’s soulmate,” Danny breathes. His hands are shaking. He wants to cry.

The man sighs. “Yeah. I am. Not that it’s stopped him from trying to kill me. Don’t worry, kid, I’m not working with him. I swear.”

“He’s your soulmate and he hurt you.”

“He hurt everyone,” he says, then gestures at his blind eye. “This is barely a thing compared to what he did to other heroes.”

Danny can’t find the words to expression his horror at seeing the damage he did to his own soulmate. His future self is heartless and cruel and bloodthirsty. He has to be stopped.

He doesn’t want to kill his soulmate.

“I came here for Batman,” Danny says, “Because I thought he could help me stop Phantom.”

“That’s rough, kid. Batman couldn’t beat Phantom. I don’t think anyone can. We’ve tried, but most heroes are dead and we can’t just go out there and risk the lives of everyone here. We gotta focus on survival, not revenge.”

“I have to stop Phantom.”

“Sorry kid, but that’s a terrible idea. Don’t go out there trying to be a hero. You can stay here, alright? Ivy will get you set up and the others will help you settle in.”

Danny takes a step back and shakes his head. “No. I have to stop him. It has to be me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m Phantom,” Danny whispers.

The man immediately reaches for his electric batons again, taking a step back. “Not funny, kid,” he says with a tense voice.

“I’m not joking. I am Phantom, just from the past. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You’re Phantom?” the man repeats. “You. You’re just a kid, and you’re going to destroy the world one day?”

“I don’t want this to happen! That’s why I need to go back, so I can stop the event that will set me down this path. And to go back, I need to defeat the Phantom that exists here.”

“He’ll kill you, kid.”

“That still solves the problem, doesn’t it? If I die here, then he’ll never live long enough to destroy the world. He’ll die too.”

The man stares at him with cold eyes, then turns away, dropping his hands away from the batons. “Don’t turn this into a suicide mission, kid,” he says. “The Phantom who’s here isn’t you. You don’t have to pay for his crimes. Just… stay here and I’ll go fight Phantom.”

“He already hurt you,” Danny says.

“What’s a little more hurt? I can handle it.”

“No,” Danny says firmly. He shoves away the fear and hurt in his heart and finds his strength in determination. No more running away. No more hiding.

The timeline should not exist. He can’t hesitate at the thought of erasing this version of his soulmate from existence; he’s tired and injured and an outcast in the only community that still exists in Gotham. He deserves better. Everyone here does.

And to give them a better life, Danny needs to stop this one from ever happening.

“This is my future. It’s my responsibility. I’ll stop it and make sure this never happens. And… I’m sorry for everything I did.”

“It’s not your fault, Danny. You’re not this version of Phantom.”

That’s not at all true, since Danny’s actions lead to the end of the world, but he’s not going to argue when he’s preparing to fight a stronger, more ruthless version of himself. He takes a deep breath, then goes ghost and floats into the air.

“Before I go,” he begins, hesitantly, “What’s your name? Since you’re apparently my soulmate.”

The man smiles sadly and answers, “Duke. If we ever meet in your time, tell that version of me to look for my mom’s favorite book.”

It’s an odd request, but if it’s important enough to be asked for, then Danny will do it. “Your mom’s favorite book,” he repeats, “Got it.”

“Take care, Danny. Good luck out there.”

Danny nods and takes one last look at his soulmate, older and worn down, stubbornly getting through each long day, and swears to make things better.

Then he flies off, ready to fight his future self and make things right again.

. . .

He thinks of his soulmate for years after he’s back in the present. The timeline where his future self exists is gone and the world is safe, but he still remembers the pain he caused Duke.

When the time comes to apply to universities, Danny sets his sights on Gotham. His parents take him on a trip during spring break to tour the campus, and it’s after the tour, as he wanders around on his own, that he bumps into a student walking out of a building.

“Sorry,” they both say at the same time, reaching for each other to help each other keep their balance.

As soon as their hands meet, it’s as if lightning runs through him. From the look on the other guy’s face, he felt it to.

This is his soulmate.

“Duke,” Danny says, amazed and disbelieving all at once. And the request crosses his mind, something he wondered about almost every night since he returned to his time. “Look for your mom’s favorite book.”

“How—?”

“I met you in the future. You asked me to take back a message for the you that’s here. So: look for your mom’s favorite book. What does that mean, by the way? I never asked.”

Duke blinks, then slowly retracts his hands from Danny’s. “My mom’s favorite book was a hand bound journal from my dad. They were soulmates and he wrote about their first year in a relationship together. It’s full of pictures, and she loved it more than anything. That message is to remind me to have faith in soulmates, to believe that something good can happen to me.”

“Oh! That’s… wow, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry into something so personal.”

Duke shrugs. “It’s fine. I needed the reminder. I would have already run away by now if you didn’t say that. You already know my name, but I think now’s a good time to introduce ourselves.”

“Right!” Danny says, flustered. He sticks his hand out, which Duke shakes with an amused smile. “I’m Danny. Fenton. I’m coming here next semester.”

“Duke Thomas. I’m a freshman here and I’d really love to get your number.”

He’s not hitting on Danny, not really, but it still makes him blush. The way Duke looks at him is full of light and laughter, so different from the exhausted and wary way he looked in the future now rewritten.

This is what the future version of himself tried to kill. He doesn’t understand how anyone could ever hurt Duke when he’s so full of life.

But he’s safe now. Everyone is; Danny changed the future and what lies ahead is wholly unknown to him.

The world is safe and full of promise.

No matter what comes, Danny is sure he and Duke are going to be just fine.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #the horror of knowing what kind of monster you are capable of becoming paired with the knowledge that your soulmate has suffered bc of you #and reasonably wants you dead/taken out of the picture not just for revenge but for the sake of everyone's safety #but also from duke's pov he's found a teenager wandering into gotham's last refuge. he looks strangely untouched by the end of the world.#hes looking for batman who duke watched die. and then it turns out that hes a younger version of the monster that ruined your life #(and everyone elses life) and realizes that this is who his soulmate once was #and then knowing that he either has to kill this innocent version of his soulmate or let his existence be unwritten #there is no happy ending for post-apoc duke's story #but he and danny get a second chance in a new timeline where things are better #doesnt mean the nightmares ever leave danny lol #thanks for the prompt!!

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erwinsvow · 6 months

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𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞

summary: you and aaron are having a hard time deciding on a baby name.

word count: 1.5k

author's note: eeeeeeee x3. cannot stop writing for aaron, especially domestic, happy aaron. not bau!reader but i stole elements from that story too, linked here. i really loved this one!

now spinning

You had thought time would fly by during pregnancy, or at least that’s what everyone else made it seem like. You felt like all you’d heard so far was warnings to enjoy this time with ‘just the two of you’ and spend your days preparing as much as you could.

You’d taken it very literally—your evenings after work were spent reading baby books and prepping food to store in the freezer.

Your days off from work, and even the rare, treasured weekend Aaron has off, is spent looking at paint samples (all yellows and greens, even though you’ve known it’s a girl since the two of you had Jack take a big bite out of a cupcake with raspberry frosting inside) and browsing websites for a car seat and a stroller. Aaron digs through the garage for Jack’s old things, and comes out with a sturdy wooden crib and a beautiful bassinet.

Aaron doesn’t worry as much as you, of course, and he has the best dad instinct you’ve ever seen. It comes so naturally to him, you almost worry about yourself. Will it be this easy for you?

You have experience parenting now, thanks to Jack and all the time you spent with him and Aaron even before you got married, but he barely counts. He’s an angel child—one who asks for extra servings of vegetables, does his homework without being asked, and never complains when you have to remind him to tidy up his room.

Besides a few puzzle pieces and various, outgrown sports gear scattered throughout the house—your house, your family home, you think fondly— he always puts away his belongings in the proper place.

He even reminds you and Aaron of his upcoming school projects and which commitments he penciled in for—a friend’s birthday party next weekend (When should we go get the gift?) and a class field trip next month (They need two more chaperones. Should I ask Uncle David?)

You’re convinced you’ll never have it this easy with another child. You start over preparing the week you find out you’re pregnant, after Aaron smothers you in kisses and hugs.

He takes you out to dinner with the team—another rare, treasured event, but not because he doesn’t want to, just because they’re always on a case—and you break the news to them when you turn down a glass of wine from Emily, who looks at you quizzically. No more wine for nine months, you had said. Ten, JJ corrected.

You’re seven months now, halfway to eight. Pregnancy brain is very real and has affected you like crazy. You keep forgetting to go grocery shopping and then you keep misplacing the paper grocery list Aaron keeps on the fridge with a little magnet. You and Jack have been eating a lot of take-out, and he’s not complaining but he still inquires about his vegetable intake over slices of pizza.

“You know, the baby is the size of a coconut right now,” you tell Aaron on the phone, rubbing your stomach. Your back has been killing you lately, another thing you had read about happening nearing month eight in your baby books of horror.

Aaron offers a massage when he’s around but it always hurts the most when he’s gone. Besides, his massages are what got you into this predicament in the first place.

Jack is asleep on the sofa right next to you. He had asked to watch Star Wars before bed—it’s a Friday night and he has no soccer practice tomorrow, and you are a perpetual good cop who can’t say no—so you had cozied up with him and a bowl of popcorn on the couch while The Empire Strikes Back played quietly in the background. You move your hand back to stroke his hair while he sleeps.

“Really, sweetheat? A coconut?” Aaron says. The team is up in Connecticut, and though he’s gone and you wish he was here with you, you’re thankful he’s in the same time zone.

You’re not sure about the case and can’t stomach the gory details anymore, but you think they must have made some strides since he’s staying on the phone with you and not in a rush to leave.

“Uh-huh, that’s what my book said. Never knew a coconut could kick this hard.” Aaron laughs on his side of the call, a sweet sound. You smile. “Maybe she’s kicking now to let us know she wants to play soccer like her big brother.”

“A prodigy in the making. Speaking of, does Jack have practice tomorrow?” Aaron likes to remind you of these things because he knows you keep forgetting.

“No, nothing tomorrow, I triple checked. And this little brainiac is just like you, keeps reminding me so I don’t wake him up at seven-thirty tomorrow.”

You hear Aaron laugh again. It all feels very domestic. Your mouth hurts from smiling.

“Aaron, it’s getting to that time. We need to pick a baby name soon. Any crazy ex-girlfriends or female serial killers we need to avoid?”

“Well there’s certainly a few. Serial killers, that is, not the other thing. What are you thinking so far?”

“Well my book said-” Aaron groans on the other end. “Hey! Don’t knock my book, it’s helpful.”

“Honey, your book had you convinced the baby would be missing fingers and toes if you had a turkey sandwich.”

“Deli meat is bad during pregnancy! So is sushi, thank you very much. I’d rather not risk my baby’s digits just because you wanted subs.”

“Reid said that’s not true and everything’s fine in moderation.”

“I’m sorry, has Reid ever birthed a human before?”

“Point taken. Your book also said your heartburn isn’t a big deal because it just means the baby will have a full head of hair-” “JJ said that too! And she said Henry had lots of hair-”

“And it also said sex during pregnancy is bad. Remember that?” Your face heats up. Damn him, making you blush even when he’s hundreds of miles away.

“Oh, whatever. Just tell me which names we have to avoid. I think we should do something with a J, though. Make it matching.”

“Very sweet, honey. Jordan? Juliet? June?”

“Hmm,” you ponder carefully. Even if it’s silly, this feels like one of the biggest decisions you’ll ever make. “I like them all but I don’t love them. They’re too… something. Too new maybe.”

“Older names, then? Joy, Josie, Julia?”

“I like those too. Should we really name our child after a Beatles song though?”

“I think that’s a great idea, don’t you?” You can almost hear it in Aaron’s voice—he’s relaxing for the moment. Either they’ve already caught the unsub or you have a bigger impact on him than you thought you did.

“Well if we’re gonna do that then we should at least use Eleanor or Michelle. Or Lucy! I like Lucy.”

“I’d prefer not to name our daughter after a song written about hallucinogens.”

“Aw, you're no fun. How about Anna?”

“What happened to wanting to match with Jack?” he asks.

“Ah, let the kid have his own identity. If he had it his way we’d name the baby Leia or Yoda.”

“Leah’s not bad. Pretty and simple. Four letters, keeping the trend.”

“That’s not a Beatles song!” You hear Aaron groan.

“You have too many demands, honey.” “No, I’m just picky. You should consider it a compliment, I’m choosy and I chose you, remember?”

“Vividly. Prudence, then?”

“Oh, that’s pretty.” You try to picture it written on holiday cards and homework sheets. Prudence Hotchner. You say it aloud to test the feel of it. “Prudence Hotchner. Prue Hotchner.”

“Sweetheart, I was joking.”

“You should never joke around a pregnant woman. I like it, it’s so pretty. Pretty Prudence.”

“You don’t think it’s a little old?”

“Well, her father is an old man who wants to name her after a Beatles song, so yeah, it’s very fitting. Doesn’t it just roll right off the tongue? Prudence Hotchner? We could call her Prue.”

“Prue is very cute. I like Prudence Joy.”

“Oh, I love Prudence Joy. Prudence Joy Hotchner. I like it so much. I’m tempted to wake up Jack and ask if he likes it. Will you ask the team if they like it too?”

“I will, honey. Isn’t it time to sleep now?”

“Yes, I’ve just been putting it off. Jack’s asleep next to me, I have no idea how I’ll get him upstairs without waking him.”

“If you wake him he’ll be able to fall asleep again, as long as it’s quick-” “I know, honey, don’t worry about us.”

“Can’t help it.” You can’t stop the smile that spreads, cheek to cheek. You have a feeling he’s smiling too.

“You’ll ask the others, right? About Prudence?”

“Yes, honey, I will. I’ll see them in a little bit, I stepped out to call you while I made another cup of coffee.”

“Oh, Aaron, it's so late for coffee,” you chide, lovingly. Don’t drink a whole cup please. I wish you guys would drink tea instead. Or at least decaf.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. I gotta go now. Kiss Jack goodnight for me?” “Of course.”

“And play Prudence her song, then?” You can’t contain the smile on your face.

“Of course. Good night from all three of us, Aaron.”

#hope everyone likes this one!#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch imagine #hotch drabble #aaron hotch

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amuseoffyre · 6 months

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Since insomnia is kicking my arse of late, I naturally tilted into the thoughts about the nature of the 3-act structure and why S2 of OFMD may have felt off and incomplete to a lot of people.

I am fully in agreement that we lost a lot of valuable time with only 8 episodes and a lot of it did feel rushed, but for the amount of story and set-up and growth and development they needed to fit into 4 hours of television, they did astonishing things.

DJenks has said from the very start that this is a story that has been planned out to take 3 seasons. It's literally a 3-act play and we are currently right in the middle of the worst part of that timeline according to every traditional 3-act structure.

Act one/season one is self-explanatory. Like New Hope in the Star Wars Trilogy or Fellowship of the Ring, this is the set-up. We're introduced to our protagonists and antagonists, the relationships are given a foundation.

The beginning is Stede's journey to becoming a real boy. The inciting incident, the one that actually pushes his change beyond "playing pirates" is meeting Ed. The second thoughts come together in episode 8/9 after his confrontations with Jack and Chauncey and episode 10 is the climax.

Act 2/season 2 is never going to be as smooth and simple as act 1/s1. A big part of the A2/S2 job is set up for A3/S3 and this is what we're seeing and why a lot of story threads seem to have been left dangling.

Again, to call back to Empire Strikes Back and The Two Towers, the structure is much the same: the original batch of people are divided and scattered, the big enemy from A1/S1 is looming, new allies make themselves known. In SW, this meant the introduction of Lando and Yoda as allies plus the hint of the Emperor lurking in the background. In LotR, we have the Rohirrim, Gondor and the Ents as allies and the expansion of Sauron's forces in Helm's Deep, Osgiliath and the winged wraiths.

There's a clear trajectory following the A2/S2 structure:

obstacle 1 - the crews separated and struggling

obstacle 2 - the end of episode 2 and the repercussions of his actions

twist - just when things start to settle, the Ned Low situation happen and Stede kills for the first time

obstacle 3 - Ed's struggle with his identity leading to him leaving

disaster - Ricky's assault on the Republic

crisis - do-or-die battle because they have no other choice

climax - the last 15 minutes of ep. 8 live here.

As with SW and LotR, there's an ending, but weighted with the knowledge of a story that is meant to continue. Each of those act 2 films end with the heroes still aware of the looming threat, some of them heading out on new missions, and some of them resting and healing. There's brief pause, brief respite, a moment to take a breath.

We have all the characters in place now and the battle-lines have been drawn. Luke still needs to confront Vader (I see you, impending Ed and Hornigold confrontation), Frodo still needs to destroy the ring, Aragorn still needs to lead the army against the Black Gate, the second Death Star is still hanging in the sky.

I'm so excited to see what S3 brings because we have so many arcs ready to go: Zheng's vengeance trip, the inevitable enforced out-of-retirement arc for Ed and Stede, Hornigold, Ricky trying to maintain his tenuous control of the republic given how many of his people were killed when the crew escaped, the pirate rebellion gathering forces.

Also how often do we get shows/films where the supporting cast are given this much storyline? We have a named/speaking-role cast of upwards of 15 central characters. That is a staggering amount of people to work with, when most shows would only focus on the leads and a couple of their friends. Six is the average for most TV shows, while comedies can inch higher because ensembles, but most ensembles don't get as much as our crew did.

I know a lot of people aren't happy about Izzy's death. I know I would have liked to see him a lot more, because he's such a grumpy old bitch and I love him and him affectionately roasting Ed and Stede would have made my entire month. But I'm also aware that narratively, as a figurehead of the old ways of piracy and "we were Blackbeard", it was a symbolic death as well - a sign of the death of the old ways of piracy and of Blackbeard as was.

(Also, they Obi-Wanned him. I'm not over that. Gave him the "if you strike me down I will become more powerful" speech. I'm just... guys, your star wars nerdery is showing XD)

So while it was flawed in places and pacing, given the scale of the story they're telling, the number of pieces and characters they had in play, and the arcs they have been setting up while also still keeping the humour, I am giving a standing ovation for a remarkable piece of work.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd meta

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spiriteddreams · 1 year

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flee(ting)

— a kiss that isn't meant to happen but does so anyway Pairing: Jing Yuan x Reader Warnings: angst, no comfort, reminiscing memories of someone (who isn't dead), possibly ooc jing yuan i just met the man hehe Word Count: ~1.3k A/N: the question was if i should write code or write a jing yuan fic and guess what i chose to do

time is fleeting. it is the steady drag of hands around a circle, the clock paying no mind to the desperation that people cling to in the hope that time will stop for just a moment and allow for just a little more. jing yuan finds that he curses time without knowing it. he stands behind his desk, hands behind his back as he looks at the papers scattered across his desk, his scrawled handwriting detailing reports from the cloud knights, logistics within the xianzhou alliance, and piled in the corner, never to be put away, are the sparsely gathered notes of your whereabouts.

he finds himself reaching for the papers, thumbing through the paper, some recent, others months, now years, old. he finds that he can’t quite remember the last time he saw you, and the memory of your last moments with him have begun to slip from the front of his memory. he hates the feeling. he curses the fact that he cannot hear your laughter echoing in his office any longer, as if your own memory was pulling away, trying to flee from the grasp he has so selfishly held onto for so long. you were there, and then you weren’t. an expedition gone wrong, a ship attacked and no sign of communication, now labeled as a closed case by the xianzhou alliance. but those close to jing yuan know that he’s never truly given up on it. instead he finds his mind drifting back to the day of your departure.

“don’t worry about me,” you stand proud at the docks, decorated outfit a sign of your standing in luofu. both yours and his companions had allow you both some space, privacy amongst the boxes of cargo and decorated architecture. jing yuan has no reason to doubt your abilities, after all, you had risen in the ranks alongside him and he is more than confident in your own skill. that doesn’t mean he isn’t worried. he can fight in wars, lead soldiers into the dark unknown and yet the thought of you leaving for an expedition scares him more than he would like to admit. it’s the nagging feeling that tugs in the back of his mind, warning him to ask you to stay, just one more time.

but jing yuan had always been good at hiding his intentions, presenting a calm and collected front to offer some semblance of comfort to those that look up at him. and he finds that his facade is a bit too easy to put on as he chuckles softly at your words.

“you will make all of us proud,” his voice is uncharacteristically soft, and he’d be damned if his companions heard the way he spoke to you in private. “i look forward to your return.”

you smile softly, offering him a reassuring smile, “i’ll be back before you know it.” he isn’t sure if the smile is meant to reassure him or you. there are unsaid words between the two of you, a delicately drawn line that the neither of you have dared to cross. instead, over the years you’ve resorted to a game of cat and mouse, both of you taking turns to play predator and prey. what went from teenage games has become something more, and yet neither of you had the courage to cross the line. he curses time in this moment, wishing that he could have just a bit longer to sort out this poorly woven tapestry that the two of you have created. he wants to tie the loose ends and seal it off, but you’re already slipping from his grasp.

“jing yuan—“ hands cup your cheeks before you can finish speaking and he pulls you close, lips desperately finding yours as your hands fly up to steady yourself on him. he’s moving all too fast, heart thundering and mind racing as he pulls away, wide eyed and apologies on his lips. but they die when he sees the subtle movement of you chasing after him, hands curling around his clothes as your lips tremble. you stare at him in shock but make no move to pull away.

“come back to me, promise me,” he breathes out. his hands fall to your waist as if to steady you and to keep him grounded. he doesn’t care if anyone else is around any longer. let them see for all he cares, and let them know how much he will miss you while you’re away.

“of course,” you sound breathless, eyes searching his. you smile gently and let your hand come up to gently cup his cheek. your other hand goes to brush away the hair that has fallen into your face. you stay like that for a moment, indulging in one second, two seconds, three seconds— you pull away.

your hands move to the back of your head, fingers tugging at the red ribbon in your hair. it’s silk of the finest kind, and yet you pull it free in one swift movement.

“take this as my promise,” you offer it to him with a smile that almost worries him. “give it back to me when i return.” he smiles in amusement but indulges in letting his fingers drag across your palm as he takes it from your hand.

then time calls back to you both as the ship horn sounds, a signal to prepare to leave. he swallows thickly when neither of you make an effort to go. no doubt your companions will come searching so he takes the step forward again and pulls you close, sealing every unsaid word with a kiss that has you grasping at him to stay close. you two aren’t meant to be doing this in secret. you aren’t meant to be behind cargo boxes like teenagers, holding onto one another as if you were dying in his arms. and yet here you are.

“i should go,” you step away first and jing yuan feels his chest constrict. he can’t read the emotions in your eyes, the way you can’t meet his gaze, the way your fingers tremble, and the way you take deep breaths as if to calm yourself. but you cast aside his worries when you shake your head and throw your arms around him, hugging him tight. his hands find placement at your back and you stay like that until your companions find you locked in embrace.

“general.” a sharp voice cuts him from his daydreams and jing yuan looks at the holographic image of yukong standing by his desk. she looks upset, more so than usual and he puts on an easy expression as he asks what’s wrong.

“we have guests from the astral express, tingyun has informed me they are on their way. we’ll send over more information as they arrive.” he nods as she disappears. jing yuan looks back over at the papers and sighs. his hand comes up to thumb at the ribbon in his hair and he asks if you are still out there and well.

time is fleeting. and jing yuan wishes you had promised to return, not avoided the words as if you knew that you wouldn’t return. he wishes you didn’t give him the ribbon, and he wishes you never kissed him farewell.

— — —

extra: so why is it, that when he receives word of travellers from the astral express arriving in luofu that he catches a glimpse of your face amongst the group that has come. why is it, that when tingyun and yukong greet you with some familiarity, you shy away and apologize that you don’t quite recognize them. and why is it, that it hurts so damn much when you look at him with no remembrance of who he is. the ribbon in his hair feels like it’s slipping.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 © spririteddreams

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #honkai star rail angst #spiriteddreams writing #spiriteddreams

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beskarandblasters · 5 months

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Apotheosis Part One: The Capture

Sith!Din Djarin x Rebel Spy!Reader

Apotheosis; the elevation of someone to divine status; deification.

Apotheosis Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Series summary: Din Djarin is a force-sensitive bounty hunter, working for the remnants of the Empire. He's on the hunt for you, an ex-rebel spy who has key information; the location where Luke Skywalker is building his Jedi training academy. But when you're captured, you're not going to give up the location easily. Din will have to utilize “alternative methods” to turn you over to the dark side.

Series warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, dark!Din, switches between Din and Reader’s point of view, eventual smut, Star Wars lore (not super heavy), (more warnings will be added as story continues)

Author’s note: Welcome to the first installment of this silly little trilogy! I hope you all come to like this different take on Din! ❤️‍🔥 Thank you to @jupiter-soups, @kajashe, and @pedgito for beta reading this for me!

Summary: Din Djarin is sent by Moff Gideon to capture you and Grogu.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: just an introduction of our two main characters, the reader gets captured at the end, reader does not know Din’s name yet, canon typical violence, force sensitive!Din, no use of y/n

You

Life used to be good. Back in the day when you had your friends in the Rebellion, you felt like you had a sense of community; a sense of belonging. But when the Empire was destroyed the need for the Rebellion dissipated. So, you chose to live out your days on the planet Corvus, in the village of Calodan. It’s a stark difference from your old life. Gone were the days of being a rebel spy, acting as an imperial officer while the Empire was constructing the second Death Star. You were someone important, reporting back to the Rebellion with information that was vital to the Rebellion.

And for what? To toss you aside as soon as they stopped needing you? Surely for someone as vital as you were to the Rebellion, they would’ve made sure you were well taken care of, living a relatively comfortable life. But the reality is quite the opposite.

Calodan is rough to say the least, living under Magistrate Morgan Elsbeth’s oppressive rule. She’s walking proof that there are still fledgling pockets of the Empire scattered across the galaxy. This time of peace will surely come to an end. And when that time comes… Wouldn’t the Rebellion call upon one of their most trusted spies?

Maker, that’s awful. You’re wishing for unrest in the galaxy just so you can live an exciting life again. The reality is, you’re wishing for more than just some thrill. You’re wishing for stability, friends, food in your stomach, a sense of community, and belonging. That’s what you’re after.

And it’s all so far out of reach.

You’re walking back from the market, your small bag of the little food you could afford slung on your shoulder. You’re always on edge here, even in your own home. It’s only right when Calodan isn’t necessarily the safest place to live. Morgan Elsbeth and her guards have people chained up in electrical cages in the village center on a whim, regardless if they did anything wrong or not. Kriff, if someone looks at a guard the wrong way, it’s straight to the cages. This causes everyone to move through the streets quickly, keeping their heads low and avoiding eye contact with others. It’s for their own safety but you can’t deny it’s also made the village lonely and secluded. You’re not living here; you’re merely surviving, just barely. This isn’t the life you pictured for yourself.

Lost in your own thoughts again you barely notice the presence behind you. Just as you turn your head to look, the figure is gone. All you saw was the edge of a dark cloak, turning a corner and heading down an alley. You don’t linger. You know better. You’ve been able to stay out of trouble ever since you moved here. And you’re certainly not going to start now.

Power walking and extending your strides, you head home, holding your breath and keeping your head low. Once you get home you lock the door behind you and finally breathe. You slump down into a chair at your kitchen table and set your bag of food on the tabletop. That could’ve been nothing. It could’ve been your imagination. Or someone else trying to mind their own business. After all, you weren’t attacked, the person didn’t say anything to you. They were behind you and then gone an instant. You’re just being paranoid again.

That is until you’re emptying your bag and you notice a small piece of paper folded up and resting at the bottom. With shaky hands you grab it and before you unfold it you try to think about what it could say. It can’t be credits that someone is after, you don’t have any. You don’t entangle yourself with the wrong crowd here. You keep to yourself, only leaving your house when it's necessary. But the idea that someone is watching you, taking note of your routines, what route you walk home every day, knowing when to plant the piece of paper in your bag without being noticed… That scares you. It makes you feel like the walls of your house are about to close in on you. It makes you feel like someone is lurking in the shadows, ready to strike when you’re not looking. If they know where you live, they will wait inside your home and strike. They could-

Breathe. Unfold the kriffing paper.

So, you do. And you’re… somewhat relieved?

The note reads;

Come to the edge of the forest at the north side of Calodan at nightfall… alone.

At the bottom of the piece of paper is a hand-drawn symbol of the Rebellion.

Maybe you’re getting that action you wished for. But you’re still hesitant. Anyone could write this note and pretend they’re associated with the Rebellion.

It is tempting, though. You have a blaster hidden deep in your closet. It hasn’t been used since you moved here. Tonight seems like the perfect night to dig it out.

You’re kneeling on the floor, rummaging through your closet. In the back, there’s a wooden box, containing your blaster and other things from your time in the rebellion. You feel it with your hand and slide it towards you, lifting the lid and being flooded with memories. Inside the box is your old imperial disguise, a pin in the shape of the Rebellion symbol, your grappling line, and your blaster. You take the blaster in your hands and rub your thumb under the cool, black metal.

You can do this, you tell yourself.

Rising from the floor, you tuck the blaster and grappling line in the waistband of your pants and set off into the night. The wall on the north side of the village is the least guarded at night. The person who left the note must’ve known that.

You’re swift on your feet, moving quietly and keeping your head in a constant swivel, on the lookout for any witnesses. But everyone is home like they should be. It’s past curfew. If you were to be caught you’d be subjected to the electric cages.

You can do this, you remind yourself.

You reach the north wall and aim your grappling line at the top of the wallet, retracting the line and pulling yourself to the top. Your landing is a little shaky but you still got it. It feels like old times again. You reattach the grappling line to the other side of the wall and slowly lower yourself on the ground. You made it. You did it.

But there’s still this strange person to meet, a stranger who for some reason knows who you are, knows your past. Taking a deep breath, you walk towards the forest, anxiety brewing in your stomach about just who this person could be. The forest is misty and it’s hard to see. You replace the grappling line in your waistband and draw your blaster, on high already for any attackers or one of Morgan Elsbeth’s guards who somehow noticed you leaving the village.

“You made it,” a woman’s voice calls from your right.

You turn and look who it is. You can make out a figure standing in the fog, wearing a dark gray cloak. Her hood is on her head but you can make out blue and white head tails peeking out.

“Do I know you?” you ask.

“No, but I know of you.”

“Oh?”

She removes her head and you're certain it’s Ahsoka Tano. You’ve never met her but you’ve heard stories during your time in the Rebellion. She was never associated with it, laying low and in hiding. So why would she leave a Rebellion symbol on the piece of paper?

“Ahsoka Tano?”

“Seems like you know of me, too.”

“Why are you here? And why did you leave me that note with the symbol?”

“I knew it would get your attention; get you to trust the anonymous sender. It worked, didn’t it?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“For Luke Skywalker.”

Kriff, Luke Skywalker? The Luke Skywalker?! You haven’t seen him in forever. You gotta play it cool, though. You can’t seem too eager.

“What does he want?”

“He doesn’t know about it yet but… I need you to watch over someone very important to him.”

“Well, how can it be important if he doesn’t know about it?”

“He’s building a Jedi academy on Ossus and I rescued a force-sensitive child from the Empire-“

“The Empire is still around?”

“There’s always remnants; sympathizers left in the galaxy.”

“Right.”

“I need you to watch over him until I can take him to Luke. I have to make some repairs on my ship before I can go and it’ll take me some time.”

“That’s all you need me for?”

“I needed someone I could trust. Leia said you’d be the perfect person here.”

Leia. Maybe you need to do this.

“When will you be taking him?”

“Two rotations from now. So you’ll do it?”

“Fine. If it’s to help Luke then why not?”

She smiles and moves her cloak to reveal a pouch hanging over her shoulder, hitting her at her hip. Inside the pouch is a small creature, pastel green with large black eyes. He looks to be of the same species as Yoda, whom you've never met. But you’ve heard stories of him.

“This is Grogu,” she says, taking off the pouch and walking forward to hand it to you. You take it in your hands and wear it on your shoulder, looking down at Grogu who’s peering up at you with questioning eyes.

“She’s a friend, Grogu,” she reassures him.

“How old is he?” you ask.

“About fifty. But for his species that’s still pretty much a baby.”

“So… How do I take care of him?”

“Don’t let him out of your sight. He can find things to get into if you’re not looking. Just make sure he’s fed and he should be pretty good for you.”

“Okay… Am I meeting you back here when you’re going to take him?”

“Mhm. Meet me back here in two rotations, same time.”

“Alright…”

“May the force be with you,” she says, turning and walking deeper into the forest, her cape billowing in the wind.

You sigh and look down at Grogu. He doesn’t say a word but you don’t expect him to, instead, he cocks his head to the side, looking up at you with a blank expression on his face.

“Alright, kid. You’re going to have to be quiet on the way back to my house. Got it?”

He babbles a strange noise that you can only assume is a noise of acknowledgment before you set off back toward the village. You grapple up and over the stone wall as you did when you left, landing softly on your feet and retracting the line. The coast seems to be clear. And just like before you’re light on your sweet, moving like the wind. Once you’re home, you let Grogu out of his pouch and onto your bed. All you know about him is that he’s young and force sensitive so he’s going to need a watchful eye at all times. This is going to be the longest two rotations of your life.

Din

Moff Gideon recruited Din to join his cause several cycles ago, but it wasn’t willingly. He knew Din was special back then. Force-sensitive Mandalorians are hard to come by. But it took some “convincing” to turn him over if you could call it that. Most people would call it torture.

“Please bring me Din Djarin,” Gideon says to one of his officers.

He bows at the command and leaves the cockpit, setting off down the hallway. Gideon has a task for Din, a special one this time. For a while now, Din’s been working as a bounty hunter for Gideon’s small remnant of the Empire. He’ll go after anyone Gideon tells him to, and he normally doesn’t ask questions. But this time, Din needs to know the full scope of who he’s going after. That someone… being you. And also the child. The Empire knows Luke is out there somewhere, building a Jedi Academy. They plan to stop Luke in his tracks and capture any force-sensitive students he may already have, turning them over to the Dark Side as soldiers for the Empire.

The cockpit doors open once again. It’s the same officer as before but this time Din is behind him, stance strong and ready to take on a new mission.

“I have a task for you, Din Djarin,” Moff Gideon says.

“To where?”

“Corvus, more specifically the village Calodan. One of our own, Morgan Elsbeth is the Magistrate. I’ve just received word from her that an ex-Rebel Spy has crossed paths with Ahsoka Tano and has taken the child into her care until they leave for the Jedi Academy. I need to go there to capture the spy and the child. If you talk with Morgan Elsbeth she’ll tell you when to strike.”

“I understand,” Din says with a tip of his helmet and nothing more.

He turns and leaves the cockpit, thinking about his new mission and how he’s going to capture you. If he can, he’d like to sneak up on you when you’re sleeping or walking down a dark alley. You’re an ex-spy. He’ll have to be smart about how he goes about this. But once he captures you and tries to get you to talk? That’s when the fun begins.

He leaves the docking bay in his ship, a Razor Crest, punching in the coordinates for Corvus and setting a course. On the way he thinks about how he’ll get you. Sure you’re an ex-spy, but that doesn’t mean anything to him. He’s never missed a bounty and he’s certainly not going to start now. Moff Gideon is confident in him, too. He is sending Din with no backup after all. This is all routine for Din, nothing to lose sleep over.

Din is a force to be reckoned with… literally. There are not many force-sensitive Mandalorians out there. He could’ve chosen to be a Jedi, to follow the Light Side of the force. But the Dark Side was calling to him in a voice louder than the Light Side could ever appeal to him. He’s never felt so much raw power before, tapping into abilities he never knew he was capable of.

But for a fleeting moment when he thinks about the other Mandalorians, the covert he left behind, he feels bad about what he did. The feeling doesn’t last long though. Instead, he feels sorry for them, sorry that they’re weak. If they’re so weak, then maybe… they don’t deserve to live at all.

He grips the gear shift on the Razor Crest a little tighter and makes the jump to lightspeed, hyper-fixated on you and your demise.

You

It’s been two rotations since Ahsoka delivered Grogu to you. You’re due to deliver him back to her tonight and honestly… you couldn’t be more relieved. He’s adorable but he’s also a handful, getting into things when you’re not looking, moving things with his mind, hiding on you, the list of mischief he gets into goes on and on. When you were wishing for more action and excitement in your life, babysitting was not what you pictured.

Part of you wants to ask Ahsoka if you can go with her but the other part of you is embarrassed, worrying that you’ll look desperate seeking out any chance of an adventure.

Alas, all you can do right now is wait until tonight.

Din

Din parks the Crest in the forest before heading to the front gate of Calodan. The guards at the watch tower take notice of him and let him in. They knew he was coming. One of them meets Din down below and escorts him to Morgan Elsbeth. She’s waiting for him on her pathway to her house, surrounded by water and her garden; a beautiful place to discuss something so grim. Her front gates open and Din walks towards her on the path. Her lips curl into a smile when she sees him.

“Welcome,” she says.

“I was sent by Moff Gideon,” he says, standing with his hands hooked on his belt.

“I’ve been expecting you.”

“You say there’s a spy in possession of the child… How are you so sure?”

“I always have at least one of my men patrolling the forest surrounding Calodan. One of them overheard them talking. She’s meeting Ahsoka Tano tonight at the forest on the north side of the village.”

“When?”

“At dusk tonight.”

“Understood. I will capture them then,” he says, turning and walking to leave.

“So confident,” she says in a somewhat hushed tone so he wouldn’t hear.

But he does, stopping in his tracks and turning to look at her one last time.

“I never miss.”

And with that he’s gone, walking back out of the village and into the misty forest. For now, all he can do is wait for you and Ahsoka to meet up and ambush your little meeting.

You

The sun has finally set. You’re placing your blaster and your grappling line in the waistband of your pants again, the same as you did two nights ago. Grogu behaves on your way out of the village, staying quiet as you weave in and out of the dark alleys and hop the wall with the grappling line.

Stepping into the forest you’re on high alert, anxious to hand him off to Ahsoka already. You swear you hear a twig snap somewhere. You turn to look in the direction of the noise to see… nothing. It’s just your imagination. You’re being paranoid.

Pull yourself together. You were a spy for many years in the Rebellion. And now you’re jumping at the snap of a twig?

A figure appears in the mist. You can’t make out who it is, blinking a few times.

“Ahsoka?”

But then a lightsaber is drawn, illuminating the figure and the mist surrounding them. It’s not Ahsoka. It’s… a Mandalorian? He’s wearing pure Beskar armor, vibrant and silver in color, with a black cape billowing in the mist. His stance is strong and menacing, making you feel small and inferior. And the lightsaber he’s wielding is one like you’ve never seen before. It’s black and its blade is one of a traditional sword. It sounds different, too, emitting a higher-pitched sound than that of a normal lightsaber.

Without thinking you draw your blaster, aiming at the Mandalorian and moving Grogu so he’s behind your back. And then, the Mandalorian begins charging at you, running at you with full speed. You shoot at him but it’s no use. Every blast is defected by him. You scramble thinking about what to do next. But Ahsoka’s voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Over here! Throw him to me!” she shouts.

She’s on your right, hands outstretched and ready to catch him. You slide the pouch off your shoulder and toss him over to her. There’s no way he’s going to make it but Ashoka catches him, using the force to carefully pull him towards her.

But before she can take him into her arms the Mandalorian stops and does the same. And now you can’t believe your eyes. He’s pulling Grogu towards him with all of his might. But Ahsoka’s strong, not letting go of him that easily. It’s like a game of tug of war between them with Grogu stuck in the air. If they do this any longer it’ll hurt him. Without thinking you aim your blaster at the Mandalorian, somewhere his Beskar isn’t protecting him, and shoot at the side of his thigh. The Mandalorian yells in pain and lets go of Grogu, sending him flying into Ahsoka’s arms. She takes him and runs, light on her feet as she runs through the trees. The Mandalorian will go after her next if you don’t stop him now. You keep shooting at him now that his attention is on you. But same as before, he deflects every single blast.

Your next instinct is to run, either after Ahsoka or back towards the walls of Calodan, somewhere, anywhere just away from him. You take off running as fast as you can, into the forest and narrowly missing rocks and tree roots. You don't dare look over your shoulder to see if he’s chasing after you.

All of a sudden you feel something around your legs, closing in on you. You look down to see a fiber cord whip, not too dissimilar from your own grappling line, encircling your legs. Within an instant you’re down on the ground, head slammed against a rock. You try to wiggle free but it’s no use, the cord is tightening around you rapidly. The last thing you see is the Mandalorian standing above you, piercing into your soul with the stone-cold glare of his visor before the world around you fades to black.

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mav3nrick · 1 year

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Let’s burn the world down together | Namor X NonHuman!Reader

Namor the Submariner x nonhuman!Reader

Context : Talokan and Wakanda are on the edge of waging a war on. They are not the only hidden realms ( before Wakanda reveals itself to the world). Your realm has been hidden as well, scattered across the world. Centuries ago, the most powerful nations decimated your kind, only for you and your people to hide underground. Your people grew tired of hiding, angry for revenge. Maybe, the sake of the princess will gladly lead you to join the war. Will your hunger for revenge be stronger than one of the most powerful forces this world has borne ?

Counts : 5 444 words

Warning : Black Panther 2 spoilers, self-hatred, overthinking, smut, soulmates, english isn’t my mother tongue, so there must have some syntaxes or spelling mistakes i apologize for it,,

Your people are quite some sort of spies. You were always hiding from the surface world as you called them. They took you everything : your lands, your home, your trees, your ressources, your everything. For centuries you have lived underground waiting for the moment you will reveal yourself again. For centuries, the surface world has believed your people were only legends but now with all these superheroes crossing the whole world and coming from the universe, things dramatically changed. Your time has come.

Night visions to see through your realm galleries and pointed ears to hear far away. Your people might be one of the fiercest Mother Nature has borne. You were nightmares on your own. Dangerous fighters you were. You were fearsome of your own. Pretty lullabies about your kind when you could kill for fun, only to see the humans suffer as you have suffered for centuries.

Your people’s name has been rumored all over the world in fantasy books. But one must know you were real. This is mostly one of the reasons she came to you. You thought you had been careful when you came to the surface world but unfortunately for you, she had found you too easily for your people’s sake. You only can be mad at yourself for that terrible mistake. You should be more precocious. You have always known that. Your head advisor would remind you that everyone knew this kind of mistake would have happened and you’d have just rolled your piercing eyes again and again. You had heard those words too much for your own good. You were reckless and couldn’t care less. No one could stop you when you had a goal to score. This thought mostly made you smirking.

Your new goal was to discover more lands than you had done in the last five centuries. This is why you were on that aircraft. This thing from hell made you quite sick. Well, this was your first time and your pride self couldn’t allow anyone to notice it. To be honest, your friends knew what was going on and you could see her face being crossed by that mocking smile. They were holding their laughs. You were about to break the bench as your hands held it too strongly for its own good. Your eyes were sending gentle dead threats to your friends. You hated that fucking plane.

“ We have arrived, Princess. “

You hear the pilot talking to one of your friends. Shuri seemed relieved to finally land on her motherland soil. Your eyes were shocked by the magnificentness of the place. Stars crossing your sage green eyes. This was way beyond what you could ever have imagined. It is far away from the old and dirty galleries you lived in. You knew some of this world's inventions when you walked incognito on the surface world. You had already come into these places they called libraries. You read books about everything that could be useful for your people to know. It was mostly about weapons, technologies and wars. This is what your people live now. Even if you were hiding for centuries, waiting for your time to come. You had never been at peace since that day. You may have barely known your former realm but from what the elders say it was beyond everything the world has seen. Golden trees, magic in its purest form living through every being, harmony and peace all over your realm until the humans’ population grew too much. They were your enemies the moment they crossed your realm’s borders. War destroyed everything as it has happened in Wakanda.

Shuri had explained to you the whole situation with that Namor guy. You were on her side as she came to reach you first. To be true to yourself, you understood Namor’s point of view about the surface world. No doubt you would burn the world down too. Will you let someone else take your biggest dream or will you join him ? No one knows. You wanted to know what she wants from you. It is certain she didn’t know everything about you and your people. The curse people. From magnificent elves to dark elves you fall deep down into obscurity. Literally and figuratively. It was funny to you to see the pure princess coming for darkness to invade her darkening heart. You knew you were drawn to her. You knew you could do something incredible with her. You had waited too long to use the entirety of your power.

“ We don’t have enough time. Riri, this is [ Y/N ]. The one I told you about. “

Shuri introduced you to a younger black woman. Your head moved to greet her. No word leaving your mouth. You had never been a great talker.

“ So she’s the one they want ? “

You asked, finally breaking your own silence. Riri seems to be happy that you know about her work. To be true, you had heard about her machine being able to find vibranium. As awful as it could sound, you were glad that the surface world had all their eyes focused on vibranium rather than one of your people’s precious metals. Galleries are maybe a good opportunity to lose your enemies and to hide but the moment they will surround your realm, you will be dead. Your people may be one of the fiercest fighters, you could not win over enemies that know all of your hidden doors. You would be doomed.

“ Apparently, yes I am “

The genius inventor said, embarrassed by the whole situation she pulled Wakanda in. She may have the best intentions in the world, she needs to be more careful. You scoffed at this thought that reminds you of someone you knew the most : yourself.

“ When are we going to fight ? “

You asked eager to cross your swords with Talokan’s weapons. You had heard they were one of the most powerful weapons. The ones you couldn’t break. It would be lies to say you didn’t want to try them.

“ We are going to attack first. This way we will have the advantage. We will be in the middle of the ocean. He would not touch Wakanda again. “

Shuri spoke like the true queen she was. She had taken the throne days ago after Namor killed her mother. It wasn’t her who told you this but one of her spies. Nakia if you remembered her name well and your memory was really good. You could remember almost everything from your long life. This was your salvation but mostly your curse. As said, everyone gathered to go to this war. Each soldier from each tribe walks to the battleship. And now, set sail. May the show begin.

*****

While the fight was occurring on the ship, you helped Shuri to capture the Feathered Serpent God. She didn’t need any help at that point. Her hatred for the man who had killed her mother took control over her body. The winged man was trying to destroy the aircraft he was imprisoned in. She made him mad as hell. So did he. Another smile crossed your face as you watched the two of them. Maybe you just should stay to watch them fighting. It was a delicious spectacle to watch.

What you couldn’t say was that your eyes were only watching the submariner man. He had piqued your curiosity. Something in you wanted to know much more about him. He must have feel the weight of your eyesight on him as he was now watching you. His eyes were full of anger but you seemed to have caught him off guard. A smirk on your face, you were enjoying this.

As things went worse on the ship and mostly because you did nothing useful on the aircraft, Shuri asked you to go back on the said ship. Her voice was full of anger. Your darkness enjoyed it a bit too much. You said nothing but agreed and went there. You didn’t like what was going on but you couldn’t say anything. Your powers only grew stronger each time you were close to all of these people who let their hatred and rage took over their bodies. War has always been something you fed from. It was your little secret.

As you land on the infamous ship, the aircraft flies to the closest continent. Talokan fought really hard. So does Wakanda. You wish your people could be part of it. Things would have been way too easy.

Soon enough, the fight was over. Namor submitted it to Shuri. Talokan lost. Wakanda wins. Both returning to their lands, healing their soldiers and rebuilding their towns. Celebrating for some, plotting for the others. You were quite frustrated. You thought Shuri would fall deeper into darkness but her will and morality were too strong for you to win. Maybe it was better this way than the other. You have to be realistic. If it wasn’t her, then you would find someone else. You already knew who this person would be.

After some goodbyes to your new friends, wishing them the best, you left Wakanda for another secret place. Only if they knew, they wouldn’t be so happy and eager to meet you again. You could feel Okoye’s suspicious look on your back. The one you had felt during your journey with them.

*****

You follow Nakia’s indications about the cave’s location. You had overheard her when she was explaining to Okoye where she found the princess, now queen of Wakanda. Due to this, you were now at the edge of a very small village on the Yucatan peninsula between the forest and the sea. In no time, you had found the infamous cave. You weren’t a quite good swimmer. You

“ The Moon will always respond to the Ocean’s call. You know this more than anyone else. ”

You said to the Ocean King, in your dark military outfits while he was in his golden ornaments robe. Only the moonlight that crossed the cave’s walls was reflecting through your elvish gold sword. She never left you on any occasion. She was the last thing you had from your past civilization.

“ You were on Wakanda's side. And now you are here before me, trying to get an alliance. “

The mutant responded, with wrath controlling his voice tone. His jaw was tense. You were quite amused by this even if you really deserved it. Your eyes couldn’t leave the man’s face. There was something mesmerizing about him. Something appealing. Something you couldn’t resist.

“ Maybe if you had come first, I'd be by your side now. “

You confessed nonchalantly. You had always been attracted by the most interesting offers people can propose to you. Your allies' choices were never fixed exceptionally in this kind of situation where both reasons were to listen and discuss. Listening to people’s darkness made you choose your camp. His politics were relatable to you. You could do the same things for your own people.

“ What do you want from my people ? You came here without us inviting you. “ “ I mean have overheard your location, sorry not sorry. You already hated the surface people too much. So do I. “

You cut him off. A playful smirk was seen above your face making his face tensing up. You could see a tint of curiosity crossing his eyes. He was suspicious about you and he must be.

The meeting was quite interesting. You had the chance to learn more about his people. He explained this to you as a sort of a warning. He wanted to be sure you knew where you had fallen as he had done it with Shuri weeks ago. He wanted you to know how powerful he was. You had seen him and his people fighting against Wakanda forces. You know what they are made of. You knew how great warriors they were and you showed him how you respect his people. More you listened to him, the more you grew curious about the king and his realm. As a mark of mutual trust - as little it was - you told him about your people and what you’ve been through. Both of you understood quickly how similar you were at some points.

You didn’t know how long your conversation lasted but it felt like none of you wanted it to end. He had offered you to visit his realm and to lend you a submarine suit they had stolen from that american team who started this whole war between the two vibranium possessor nations. With a little laugh, you had shown him how useful your control over darkness could be used to. You had seen the mesmerizing look in his eyes. Something had shifted. Something was wrong. You couldn’t find any word to put on. You were attracted to this man. It was too much to bear it alone. Your shoulders would break faster than those last centuries have tried to. You could feel his body heat crossing yours as he was so close to you. Chest against chest. Your hands on his muscular chest. His hands holding your hips. His lips brushing against your. You deeply wanted him to press them against yours and you wanted to slap yourself for this thought. You wouldn't think about anything else as his dark piercing eyes were locked into yours. He wasn’t going better than you. Both tensed and attracted to each other. You were rising something that was buried deep inside him, in a place he thought unable to unlock. Not like he wanted to.

Finally, his lips took possession of yours. Both dancing with roughness and an unknown passion. Both fighting for dominance. Both being made for each other. You didn’t want this to end, nor will he. His hands were desperately all over your body. Your fingers were pulling his black hair. Pleasure was running through your veins. You couldn’t fight against and you didn’t want to. You were too needy for him so he was for you. You wanted him to take away this unpleasant feeling while your body was burning. Heatwaves broke on your inner core. You needed him to do something. You could feel his neediness against your lower abdomen. Soon, the black leather corset above your jetblack long sleeve shirt and the latest will leave you too quickly for your taste. His gold ornament robe left his body too quickly for his own taste. Both of you were already panting without knowing why.

As things were becoming hotter every second that passed, you finally used your powers to be sure no one would interrupt or hear you. Like Wanda’s hex, your own barrier made with darkness will isolate the both of you from his realm. A devilish smile on his face, he seems to approve.

Soon enough, his lips were all over your body. They were giving hot kisses on your neck and your shoulders. Love bites against your hot skin. You were moaning softly his name. It wasn’t enough for him. He needed more. Still kissing your neck and playing with your hardening nipples, he led you to his bed. You let yourself fall on it when your knees tripped over the mattress. In your fall, you took him with you. He was above your whole body. You love this feeling a bit too much. Your legs encircled his waist, making your lower self thrusting against his hardening self. You snatched a deep moan from him. His eyes full of lust met yours once again. Oh yes, you will burn the world down for him.

“ Please do something …”

You needily whispered to his ears making him shivered. Without wasting more time, he took off your training pants and boots, throwing them somewhere else in the little room. Both of you couldn’t care less at this very moment.

“ Anything my queen wants. “

He said using his deep voice, full of lust and neediness. As said, he continued his kissing trails down to your inner core. You started being a moaning mess and he hasn’t touched you yet. A powerful shiver stroke your body at the thought of him doing whatever he wants with his sinful mouth. His tongue against your sensitive core was one of the most skillful things you have ever met. You couldn’t think but only moaning his name again and again. Your eyes were closed and tense. He could enjoy the show as he lifted his own eyes to watch over you. His tongue was still eating you out. His fingers were playing with your burning inside. Oh yeah, he was proud of the effects he was creating in you. Soon or later, he will be too addicted to it. It will be fatal for him as it will for you. He must protect you.

As he felt your orgasm coming, he decided to stop everything, making you moaning in complain. He laughed at your reaction. You will soon be served what you want. He couldn’t wait to bury his hardening self deep inside your burning core. His body was all above yours. His hands were from both sides of your head as he placed himself between your shaking legs.

A part of you was surprised to see how gentle and careful he was with you, as if he could break you in one move. He was reckless, eager for revenge. He could put the whole world in fire and ashes. He could kill without hesitation just to be sure his people were out of danger. You were just like him. Maybe this was what drew you to him and him to you.

Your drowning thoughts were cut as he entered your inner core. A concerned look was on his face as you came back to your body, moaning. His own moaning joining yours. He let you adjust to his size and when it was done, his rough thrusts started. They threw you to the stars in a few seconds. Your nails were dug into his muscular back. His hand next to your head held him still above you while the other one was running one your body before meeting your burning nerves ball. You were a moaning mess.

Pleasure in its purest and strongest form. None of you lasted so long. Soon enough, both of you reached your powerful orgasms, him filling you deep inside. Your body will be full of bruises and love bites as his body will be full of scratches.

Now, both of you were panting next to each other, a happy and relieved smile on both your faces as your eyes were locked into his. You were over the edge from what he gifted you. You were over the edge to be the unique person able to see this side of him. He was over the edge to be the unique person able to see this side of you.

Now, he had to go back to his duties and so do you. His cold and cruel attitude was back on his face. The God ruler of Talokan gave you a last kiss on your forehead before dressing himself again and leaving to accomplish his royal duties. The barrier you created formerly was lifted. Darkness coming back to your body and to wherever you stole them. It could be from people, places, animals or vegetables. You didn’t care. You only needed them to be powerful. You laid there a quite long time, your mind playing with you again.

******

After your encounter with Namor, you came back to your realm. You didn’t want to leave at first. You knew he didn’t want to. His eyes spoke for him as he let you go back to the cave’s waters. A goodbye kiss was the only thing you could give him. His hands were holding your cheeks. His thumbs sweetly cherished your skin. He was too sweet to be real. You were drowning into the sadness of his eyes. Something inside you was breaking. You didn’t know what but could only imagine what.

You would do anything to meet him again. It was really strange for you who had never listened to your heart’s whispers. They were too strong. He raised things you had never known possible and hidden deep inside your being. Two of the strongest rulers of the world are weak for each other. It was quite funny as you thought of it. If it was to be known by your enemies, they will use it against both of you. They will raise an inhuman rage that no one has ever known yet. You felt what Namor could do to this world. His darkness spoke to you, telling you his deepest and darkest desires. You wanted to do anything to make them come true.

One of his people talked to him in a tongue you didn’t know. His face changed when he saw the warriors and by the name he said, you knew it was Namora. You kinda like this woman. She was fierce and ruthless. Then, he told you it was time for you to leave. His voice was cold. He didn’t want you to leave nor did you do. Both had to act as nothing was going on.

As soon as you left the undersea cave that leads to his temple, you found a bus that was going to the closest airport to get a plane to go back to [ Your Continent ] undergrounds where your people are hiding. Sadly for you, your people weren’t located near the sea. Mountains have been the best place you could have found. When cities became too huge for you to stay underground, most of your kind moved to the countryside. Galleries were built throughout mountains.

The truth was that you tried to comeback home. He would never know. You were sure of that. Things went really wrong the very moment your feet landed on the airport soil as a surprise was waiting for you there. Something you had thought about. The Americans were on your back. They were waiting for you. How could you be surprised when they had almost all the superheroes under control at some point. You didn’t fight when they arrested you. There is always something else at the back of your mind. Your actions were always too calculated for your own good. Evil must always be prepared. Let them believe they got you. Your people's hatred will only be bigger as days pass with you being imprisoned at the Raft. A prison on the sea when Darkness is the Ocean’s most beloved person.

As much as you wish to hope, you couldn’t count on someone you had barely met. You were too old to trust people based on the first impression they gave you. Whatever happens between the both of you, you couldn’t. A part of you wishes too. Maybe you should have kept that seashell. You hated yourself for not stealing it. Now, you will stay there for how long the Old Gods know. Your wicked game will cost you everything. You will have all your time to think about a revenge plan. When you won’t be hating yourself for your stupidity and your humans’ worlds ignorance. You were sure : you hated them more than anything else. The surface world must be burned down.

******

You were locked for four months into that damn glass cell on that damn Raft. You were alone there. An army of skillful soldiers were guarding you. An army of the Earth enemies were backing you. Oh you could use their inner darkness to break free from this ugly place. Only if they hadn’t some sort of bracelet blocking your powers. The moment they put them on your wrist, you felt empty. An emptiness that could break the whole universe. Hatred filled your arching heart.

There was something else that made you unable to attack. A little gift Namor has granted you before leaving. You had been feeling sick a few days after you arrived there. You knew at that very moment. Something had changed deep inside you. From this moment, you were much more on your guard. You needed to be sure no one knows but the scientists there were on the lookout for every change. You knew they were testing whatever they created in that laboratory on the prisoners. You prayed everyday they wouldn’t come for you. You could lose that little gift. You needed to escape. You needed to go back to Namor. It wasn’t time to panic. Your hormones were making a mess of your emotions and you already hated it.

You were laying on your back on your miserable bed. Your hands were resting on your red shirt with its white sleeves. You were zoning out. You were sent deep inside your thoughts. You were your own darkness prisoner. Once again. Eyes looking at the gray and white ceiling until the Raft’s sirens were ringing throughout the prison. It seemed there was an attack here, you thought. You had no energy to move. Your curiosity couldn’t make you move. Screams were heard all over the prison. Laughs were heard too. You knew from who they were - the other prisoners. They seemed to enjoy the attack too much. A part of you wanted to know what was going on and especially who was attacking the most famous impenetrable prison. A part of you was hoping Namor would come to save you but how could he know ? Finding this prison on the sea was the easiest part of the game for the ocean’s ruler. His people had barely escorted you to the surface when you had left the cave. They were all over the ocean, maybe some had seen something. Maybe you had too much hope. You had barely created an alliance with the Feathered Serpent God.

As screams became louder and louder, you knew they were close to your cell. You couldn’t know how close exactly they were and now you were afraid they would come for your child. Your protective hands were holding your belly that was barely showing. You finally decided to move from your bed and stand up. Your cell was bigger than anyone in a real prison could see. You had to walk for almost three meters to reach the translucent glass that nothing could break.

One of your hands left your belly to hold you against the glass. You tried your best to stretch out yourself to see what was going on. Lights were shut down. Only the red one was going on and off. Bodies were scattered across the corridor. You flinched and gasped when something hit your cell’s glass. Then a face you hadn’t seen in months was presented to you. Rage could be seen on that face before they could see how shocked your face was. A worried look was on that face. It didn’t stop the shock from crossing your body. You couldn’t feel such intense emotion. You were too scared that something could happen. Tears rushes down your face. You couldn’t control them. How could you at that very moment ?

Then, the tall man asked you to shift your place for a safer one - it wasn’t that easy due to the tiniest cell you were in - and he tried to break the glass with his superstrength. He was in a hurry. He has to save you from this place. He has to be quick. He won’t leave with you and both of you know this. As it didn’t work, he tried to break the

“ Tell me you are safe and sound. Please tell me this. “

His voice betrayed his cold and angered face. The only thing you could do was running your hands all over his cheeks. You need to feel him close to you. You needed to be sure he really was there. You needed to be sure it wasn’t a dream or one of your darkness’ games. Some weight was lifted from your shoulders. It wasn’t the time for this kind of sweet reunion. Time was urging you to leave as soon as you could. Backups would come soon. If it wasn’t one of these superheroes the surface world has. Even if usually you were curious to meet them, today there wasn’t any time for this.

“ [ Y / N ]... We must leave this place now. I’ll protect you. There’s no fear to have. Now come with me.. “

You didn’t respond but followed him as he took your hand into his wet and rough hand. You tried to follow his footsteps but with your condition - he still didn’t know about - and your powers stolen from you, you couldn’t be as quick as he was. Your stamina - that traitor - had already left you to be hidden somewhere else.

You did your best. His people were fighting harder and harder against the Raft’s soldiers. When you reached the edge of the prison, he placed a respiratory mask on your face. You knew what would happen next. With a concerned look on his face, he asked you if you were ready to go. Deep inside him, he knew something had happened for you to react this way. You looked at your back and saw his people coming back to the waters. It was time for both of you to leave. They wouldn’t go before their king and his lover were safe in the ocean. So, without any hesitation, you gave a little pressure on his hand that hasn't left you. He took you into his arms and plunged into the cold water. You wish you had your powers to protect you from this intense coldness. You wouldn’t last long enough in the cold sea. Your eyesight started to see darkness before your eyes were shut down. Now, you were panting unconscious into Namor’s arms. You were too far away to hear his war threats to the surface world. He finally might have seen the powers blocker bracelets.

******

You remembered nothing. You didn’t know how long you had slept. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep. Nightmares have taken control over your sleep. Sometimes - when you were sleeping - you could feel a soft pressure on one of your hands. At some moment, you finally emerged from your sleep. Fear was the first thing that crossed your mind as your hands automatically held your belly. A chuckle was heard near you. You should have looked around in the first place.

“ You are safe. You're okay and so they are, my dear. “

As surprise came across your face, you turned to look at the voice. It was at that moment that you realized you were in Namor’s temple on the ground. The said man was sitting next to you, laying onto his own bed, in his golden ornaments and robe. He was shining something you had really seen but in the moonlight. This made you sighed in relief. It was finally over. Everything was over. You were safe. Both of you were.

“ I am glad both of you are safe. Attuma has checked on both of you. “ “ How did you know where I was ? “ “ I… “

For the first time, the submarine mutant was hesitating. This hesitation was quickly replaced by a small smirk as he ran a hand into his dry hair.

“ I have ears all over the whole coast. It took me time but I finally came to you. I was right to do so. I was right to listen to my instinct only. And here you are in full flesh. “

As the King was looking at you, he placed one of his hands on your belly. When his healer had told him about your condition, he was at the same time worried, happy and angered. His hatred for the surface world was behind comprehension. It was reinforced by what they had done to you. Soon you had learned that Namora, who was skeptical about your comeback among them at first, was willing to drown the world. You were caring for their king’s heir. A half-blood child. Looking at both your powers, they will rule the surface world one day. All of his people were sure of that as the rumors broke all over his realm.

“ Let’s burn the world down together when our child will be born “ Now you needed a way to bring your people there. You couldn’t stay too long from them. You couldn’t abandon them. Both your realm together,the more powerful you will be. The surface world wasn’t going to be ready. But for now, there are better things for you to think about like enjoy the rest of your pregnancy with your submarine king.

#namor x reader #mcu namor #namor the sub mariner #talocan #black panther #black panther wakanda forever #soulmates #nonhumanreader #readerwithpowers #tenoch huerta #smut #protective namor #namor the submarine x reader #black panther 2 #wakanda forever

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naomeii · 5 months

Text

Celestial Threads.

—Pairings: Morax x Goddess! Reader

Content : Angst to comfort, platonic! Xiao x reader, mentions of death, tiny bit of spoilers? about the archon war.

Synopsis: Threads of destiny lead to a revelation. As stars align, ancient lovers stand on the cusp of rediscovery, unraveling a tale of enduring love and divine destiny.

In the age when gods walked among mortals, when the winds carried whispers of celestial tales, there existed a love that transcended the eons – a love between the Geo Archon, known as Morax, now Zhongli, and the Goddess of Stars, Y/n. Bound by fate and forged in the crucible of countless years, their connection withstood the tests of time and the turmoil of the Archon War.

In those ancient days, Y/n, with her luminous presence, stood as the Goddess of Stars, a divine being revered by both adepti and mortals alike. Morax, the stoic and wise Geo Archon, ruled over Liyue with a firm yet just hand. Guizhong, the God of Dust, completed their celestial trio, and together, they shaped the destiny of Teyvat.

The love between Morax and Y/n was no secret. Their hearts beat in unison, their souls intertwined like constellations in the night sky. As the Archon War raged on, their bond became a beacon of hope, a reminder that even amidst chaos, love could endure.

The turning point came when Guizhong, their dear companion, perished in the crucible of battle. The weight of grief hung heavy on their hearts. Yet, the war persisted, refusing to release its grip on the realm. In a desperate attempt to protect their people, Morax and Y/n, mourning the loss of Guizhong, sought to move their citizens to what would become Liyue Harbor.

However, tragedy struck again. In a heart-wrenching moment, Y/n, trying to save a human child, faced her demise right before Morax's eyes. As she was turning into dust, she spoke, "Hold my hand for the last time, my love," as her ethereal form dissipated, turning into stardust that scattered in the wind. Morax couldn't do anything as his lover vanished, and could only choke up sobs that could be heard everywhere, the ever so stoic God, on his knees, crying for the loss of his lover. Zhongli, now, could only hold her hand one last time as the battle continued, leaving him to mourn the love he thought he had lost.

Years passed, and the war eventually came to an end. Morax, still grieving and burdened by the weight of solitude, took on the mortal guise of Zhongli. By his side stood Xiao, the vigilant Yaksha, a witness to the eons of grief etched on Morax's face.

Meanwhile, Y/n experienced a different fate. Instead of succumbing to death, her celestial essence invoked a deep slumber, creating a domain where her powers could protect her. Even in her sleep, she remained connected to the events unfolding in Teyvat.

In the quiet emptiness of her celestial sleep, Y/n heard a voice that shattered the ethereal silence. The revelation that she hadn't perished but rather entered a deep slumber resonated within her being. Awakening after eons, she found herself surrounded by a peaceful landscape that hinted at the war's conclusion.

Fearful of facing Zhongli in his new guise, Y/n made her way to Wangshu Inn, knowing that Alatus, now called Xiao, often sought solace there. The Inn, perched in Dihua Marsh, became a refuge for the Yaksha adeptus. "Y/n!?" he was bewildered.

In the quietude of Wangshu Inn, Y/n found an unexpected companion in Xiao. The Yaksha adeptus, usually reserved and distant, was bewildered by the revelation that the goddess presumed dead for eons stood before him, alive and well. Although he would never admit it, Xiao had found a source of comfort and understanding in Y/n, akin to a motherly figure, though the words remained unspoken.

Y/n's sheepish smile greeted Xiao's perplexed gaze. The conversation unfolded as Xiao explained the passage of time, recounting how Rex Lapis had taken the guise of Zhongli and now worked at Wangshu Inn. He detailed Zhongli's unwavering grief over Y/n's presumed demise, a grief that had lingered for centuries. Y/n admitted she knew of Zhongli's mourning but wasn't ready to confront him.

With a hesitant agreement, Xiao swore among the stars to keep Y/n's incarnation a secret from Zhongli. The pact was sealed, and Y/n, with Xiao's discreet assistance, integrated herself into the daily workings of Wangshu Inn. She took up a job, becoming a subtle presence in the background, observing the world she had missed for eons.

Wangshu Inn became a haven of sorts, a place where Y/n could quietly navigate the realm of mortals. She didn't forge many connections, preferring the solitude of her thoughts. Occasionally, she would encounter the Traveler, Aether, with his long braided hair and striking outfit, and his companion Paimon, a petite figure resembling a fairy with white hair and a star-flecked cape.

The exchanges with the Traveler and Paimon were fleeting, yet they brought a sense of warmth to Y/n's celestial heart. Aether's unknown years of existence mirrored Y/n's timeless essence, creating an unspoken connection between them. Paimon's playful demeanor added a touch of whimsy to the encounters, and together, they shared moments of camaraderie against the backdrop of Liyue's ever-changing landscapes.

As Y/n observed the interplay of mortal lives, she couldn't deny the growing curiosity within her. The world had evolved, and she found herself entwined in its unfolding tapestry, a silent observer with a heart that had endured through the ages. Meanwhile, Zhongli, burdened with the memories of love and loss, wandered Liyue Harbor, finding solace in the memories of his beloved. His mourning was a poignant symphony, echoing through the city he had helped shape, and the stars above, a silent witness to the enduring tale of a love that surpassed the boundaries of time and existence.

"Say traveler, do you ever feel the weight of a presence that lingers, just beyond your grasp?" Zhongli pondered, his eyes reflecting the depth of ancient sorrows.

Before the traveler could reply, Paimon, oblivious to the true nature of Zhongli's musings, quipped, "Well, there's a new worker at Wangshu Inn. She's got this ethereal vibe, you know, and her knowledge rivals even yours, Zhongli! I, ummm, I think her name was Y/n!"

"Y/n?" he uttered, a mix of surprise and disbelief in his voice. Zhongli turned to Xiao, who bore a guilty look, a fleeting expression that didn't go unnoticed by the perceptive archon. Before Zhongli could delve into the mystery, Paimon indecisively changed the topic, diverting Zhongli's attention elsewhere.

Xiao, meanwhile, breathed a sigh of relief, the weight of secrecy momentarily lifted. The adeptus yearned for the reunion of two souls separated by time and fate. Deep down, he wanted Zhongli and Y/n to rediscover the bond that had endured the tumultuous currents of history. Yet, bound by a promise made among the stars, Xiao found himself torn between the desire for reunion and the commitment to keep Y/n's incarnation a clandestine affair.

As fate continued its intricate dance, Xiao couldn't escape the persistent longing for a resolution that would bring solace to the hearts of the old lovers and bridge the celestial gap that had kept them apart for so long.

As days turned into nights at Wangshu Inn, Xiao found himself caught between the shadows of secrecy and the spark of longing that flickered within Zhongli's gaze. The Yaksha adeptus, ever reserved and distant, couldn't ignore the unspoken desire for the two ancient lovers to reunite. Xiao had sworn among the stars to keep Y/n's continued existence hidden from Zhongli, a promise he held with a heavy heart.

One evening, as Xiao and Zhongli were quietly conversing in a serene ambiance, a slip of the tongue threatened to unravel the carefully woven tapestry of secrecy. Xiao, usually composed and vigilant, found himself momentarily lost in the nostalgia that lingered in the air.

"Zhongli," Xiao began, his gaze fixated on the distant horizon beyond Liyue. "Have you ever felt the echoes of a long-lost presence, as if the stars themselves whispered tales of forgotten bonds?"

Zhongli, intrigued by Xiao's cryptic words, turned his attention to the Yaksha. "What do you mean, Xiao?"

Caught in the currents of emotions, Xiao hesitated. The weight of his unspoken words hung in the air like the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms. "There are threads that bind souls across time, Archon. Threads that withstand the ages, refusing to be severed."

Zhongli, his curiosity piqued, furrowed his brows. "Whose threads are you referring to, Xiao?"

In that moment, a gust of wind carried the celestial scent of osmanthus, weaving through the conversation like a delicate melody. Xiao, realizing the precarious ground he stood on, cast a brief, apologetic glance at Zhongli.

"I spoke in riddles, Archon. Pay it no mind," Xiao replied, attempting to steer the conversation away from the precipice of revelation.

However, the spark of realization flickered in Zhongli's eyes, a subtle recognition that Xiao's words were more than mere riddles. The Yaksha adeptus had unintentionally unveiled the presence of a celestial being, and the consequences of that slip lingered in the air like an unanswered question.

As fate continued its intricate dance, the celestial secret hovered between Zhongli and Y/n, an ethereal thread that waited to be acknowledged and woven into the tapestry of their shared history. Zhongli, with the wisdom accumulated over millennia, sensed the undercurrents of unspoken truths in Xiao's cryptic words. As the Yaksha adeptus faltered, Zhongli's keen intellect pieced together the fragments of information like an intricate puzzle.

He took a thoughtful sip of his osmanthus wine, the amber liquid reflecting the ages he had witnessed. Zhongli's gaze, sharp as the stone spears he once wielded, met Xiao's eyes. "Xiao, my friend, your words may be veiled, but the echoes of ancient bonds are not easily concealed. Threads that withstand time and space."

The Yaksha adeptus remained silent, acknowledging Zhongli's astuteness. The Geo Archon continued, "You may not have spoken outright, but the hints you've woven are not lost on me. Sometimes, the unspoken carries more weight than the spoken."

Zhongli, ever the perceptive strategist, understood that Xiao's oath among the stars was bound by the constraints of explicit revelation. With a thoughtful expression, he spoke again, "While you may not disclose her exact whereabouts, could you, perhaps, lead me to the threads you sensed? A subtle guide through the constellation of destinies."

Xiao, even if the name wasn't mentioned, knew whom Zhongli referred to. Torn between his promise and the desire for the two ancient lovers to reunite, he hesitated. The weight of secrecy pressed upon him, and he pondered the consequences of revealing even a fraction of the truth. Zhongli, patient as the mountains that stood tall in Liyue, awaited Xiao's response, knowing that unraveling the mysteries of the past required delicate steps.

In the inn's quietude, the celestial dance of stars continued overhead, casting a gentle glow on the Yaksha and the Archon, as the intertwined fate of Zhongli and Y/n hung in the balance. Xiao, torn between the weight of his promise and the desire to mend the long-separated lovers, wrestled with the nuances of his oath. He found a sliver of potential leeway in the wording of his vow. He hadn't explicitly sworn against guiding Zhongli to Y/n, only against directly revealing her presence.

As Xiao contemplated the moral intricacies, Zhongli observed the internal struggle in his companion. The Yaksha adeptus finally spoke, his voice carrying the burden of conflicting loyalties, "Zhongli, I vowed not to disclose Y/n's presence directly, but leading you to the threads of fate might be within the boundaries of that oath."

The Geo Archon, with a subtle nod, acknowledged Xiao's delicate distinction. "Lead me, then, Xiao."

With a somber determination, Xiao agreed, "I'll lead you to the threads, but it's up to you to follow them, Morax." The Yaksha adeptus, with a flicker of resolve in his gaze, prepared to navigate the celestial paths that intertwined the destinies of gods and stars, hoping that the reunion would bring solace to the ancient heart that mourned in silence.

The moon bathed Wangshu Inn in a gentle glow as Zhongli, with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, approached the figure sitting by the edge. Y/n's silhouette, adorned in the celestial radiance, stirred something ancient within him. As he called out her name, "Y/n..?",

the goddess turned, and for a fleeting moment, time stood still.

Her denial hung in the air, "I do not know whom you are talking about, perhaps you are mistaken." The Goddess spoke attempting to mask the truth. However, Zhongli, now fully immersed in the recognition of his beloved, wouldn't be swayed. With words wrapped in the echoes of shared memories, he questioned her absence and the long years of yearning that had persisted.

Y/n, unable to maintain the facade any longer, confessed. The tale of her deep slumber, the celestial domain, and the fear that had kept her away unfolded. Zhongli listened with a mix of emotions – relief, understanding, and a love that time hadn't dulled.

Their reconciliation unfolded beneath the luminous embrace of the moon. Zhongli, overwhelmed by the return of his cherished companion, felt the weight of millennia lifting. As their lips met in a tender kiss, the stars themselves seemed to shimmer in approval.

Curious, Y/n asked Zhongli how he had discovered her secret. His gaze shifted to Xiao, who stood at a respectful distance, an awkward expression etched across his face. Y/n, in a surprising twist, approached Xiao not with anger but gratitude. She thanked him for leading Zhongli to her, acknowledging the complexity of the promise he had upheld.

In the quiet of the night, beneath the watchful eyes of stars and moon, the reunited lovers finally embraced the beauty of their shared past.

#genshin imagines #genshin x reader #reader insert #genshin impact #genshin angst #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #morax x reader #morax x you #rex lapis x reader #rex lapis x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin fluff #genshin x you #genshin drabbles #genshin scenarios #angst to comfort

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nahoney22 · 1 month

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Hi! i love your writing and was wondering if you could do the tbb (or just tech if you dont wanna do all of them) reaction to their gender neutral S/O pulling out their old instrument or color guard equipment from their marching band days and practicing what they remember (i dont even know if star wars has an equivalent to marching band/color guard lol but i picked an old practice flag up for the first time since high school earlier and the thought popped into my head for this request..) feel free to disregard this if it’s not something you wanna write, keep up the amazing work!!

Colour Guard Memories

The Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

How The Bad Batch react to you pulling out your old instrument or colour guard equipment.

warnings: none, gender neutral reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, Batchers admiring/encouraging reader.

authors note: this is a really cute idea and sorry it has took so long to do anon. In the UK we don’t really have marching bands/ colour guards aside from royal parades from what I know so I’ve relied on Google to help me out 😅 enjoy!

Echo

"Think we've got everything?" Echo asks, sealing the final box of your belongings.

As you survey the sea of packed boxes, you're struck by the realisation of just how many possessions you've gathered over the years. It's only now, in the process of moving out of your family home, that the extent of it hits you. After what feels like an eternity of packing and stacking, you're finally done and you couldn’t be any more grateful for Echo's helping hand.

"I hope so," you reply, wiping your brow and straightening up, hands on your hips. "Now, all that's left is to get it onto the ship." The prospect of lugging boxes onto the ship isn't exactly thrilling, but you're itching to kick back and relax.

Echo chuckles and reaches for one of the sealed boxes, but disaster strikes as the bottom gives way, sending its contents tumbling to the floor. "Well, that's just great," he says wryly.

Letting out a sigh, you join him in gathering up the scattered items. Amidst the chaos, something catches your eye: an old, familiar object. "No way!"

Startled by your sudden excitement, Echo turns to you. "What is it?"

"It's my Sabre!" you exclaim, holding up the cherished item for him to see.

He blinks in surprise. "Uh, your lightsaber?"

You playfully roll your eyes at Echo, a mischievous glint in your eyes, as you take the equipment into your hands and wave it at him. "You've known me long enough to know I'm not a Jedi, Echo," you tease, giving the Sabre a quick twirl. "It's from when I used to be be a colour guard for a marching band."

Echo chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "I didn't know you did that."

"Yeah! I loved it. Want to see what I can still do?" you ask, a hint of excitement in your voice.

"The floor's all yours," he says, stepping back to give you space.

You take a moment to steady yourself, feeling the weight of the stainless steel Sabre in your hands. With a deep breath, you begin your routine, the familiar movements flooding back to you. As you twirl the Sabre with practiced precision, you can't help but feel a surge of nostalgia. However, in the midst of your performance, disaster strikes as the Sabre slips from your grip, narrowly missing a nearby window.

"Okay, okay, I'm a little rusty. Give me a second," you laugh sheepishly, quickly retrieving the saber and regaining your composure but Echo was still smiling and impressed throughout.

Determined to redeem yourself, you focus on each movement, executing smooth transitions and intricate spins. With each flourish, you feel a sense of satisfaction, the familiar rhythm of the routine bringing back fond memories. As you finally come to a graceful finish, you can't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you.

Echo applauds, a smile playing on his lips. "That was really impressive. You should've told me you could do that before."

"We all have our hidden talents," you grin, a twinkle in your eye as you admire the old memory in your hand before carefully tucking it back into the box. "Anyway, we should probably get going before I get distracted again."

“Well,” he says, resting a hand on your shoulder, “you should perform for me again sometime. If you want to that is.”

There’s a shine in his eyes, genuinely in awe of you and your talent. “I’ll definitely think about it.”

Hunter

Low on credits and desperate for some food to fill your stomachs, you and Hunter venture into a bustling market on a remote planet, hoping to find some opportunity to earn a bit of cash.

"See anything?" Hunter asks, strolling alongside you as you take in the sights and sounds of the market.

"Not really," you reply with a frown. The market is dimly lit, offering little in the way of useful materials, and the locals don't seem particularly welcoming. It's no wonder Hunter insisted on accompanying you.

But then, something does catch your eye. "Hey, that looks like one of my old flags," you remark, pointing to a colorful flag tucked away at the back of a small pop-up stall.

Hunter stops beside you, his interest piqued. "You used to spin those, didn't you?"

You chuckle at his phrasing, yet surprised that he remembers since it was just something you mentioned in passing once. "Yeah, I did. Not sure if I still have the touch, though."

A smirk spreads across Hunter's face as he holds up a finger, indicating for you to wait a moment. A bit embarrassed, you watch as he approaches the seller and strikes up a conversation. After a brief exchange, Hunter returns, flag in hand. "Let's put that theory to the test, shall we?" he suggests with a grin.

"Hunter! Did you just pay for that?" you exclaim incredulously as he shoves the pole into your hand.

"No," he says with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But they said if you can impress them, you can keep it."

You narrow your eyes at him, a mixture of amusement and disbelief dancing in your gaze. "Fine. But I'm warning you," you declare, stepping into a clearing and scanning the area to ensure there's enough space before attempting to recreate a routine you haven't performed in years. "I'm not as good as I used to be."

Taking a deep breath, you grip the pole firmly and let muscle memory take over as you start spinning the flag with practiced precision. The fabric unfurls in vibrant arcs, catching the sunlight and casting colorful patterns across the ground. With each twirl and flourish, you feel a surge of nostalgia as memories of your days in the colour guard come flooding back.

As you continue your impromptu performance, you can't help but lose yourself in the rhythm of the routine, the flag becoming an extension of your body as you spin and swirl with grace.

Hunter is watching you silently and appears to be actually enamoured by your performance. His eyes are wide in surprise.

When you finally come to a graceful finish, you turn to Hunter with a triumphant smile, the flag held aloft in your hand. "How's that for impressing them?" you ask, a hint of pride in your voice.

“That was… wow.” Is all he says, a proud smile on his face. He takes one look to the seller who just gives a brief nod. “And the flag is yours it seems.”

Hunter comes up beside you once more but you feel a tug on your top, turning to face a young child who was holding out credits to you. Bashfully, you accept and the credits swiftly came flooding in.

“Heh, seems like you still got it.” He nudges your side playfully.

This could be a pretty safe way to earn some extra credits it seems.

Wrecker

"Wrecker, come look at this!" you call out excitedly, beckoning your companion over.

With Wrecker's assistance in tidying up the Marauder and transferring some items to the Remora, you stumble upon an unexpected treasure: an old snare drum tucked away amidst the clutter.

"Woah, what's tha’?" Wrecker asks, intrigued, as he joins you on the floor, his eyes fixed on the instrument in your hands.

"I used to play it in a marching band. Forgot I even had it," you reply with a wistful smile, the memories of your band days flooding back, tinged with nostalgia and a touch of sadness for times gone by.

Wrecker notices the flicker of emotion on your face and decides to lift your spirits. "Well, go on then. Give us a beat," he encourages, nudging the drum closer to you and offering a drumstick.

You smile gratefully, feeling a rush of anticipation as you accept the drumstick from his outstretched hand and pick up the matching one from the ground. "Just so you know," you say with a playful glint in your eye, "it sounds much better in a chorus rather than individually."

With a deep breath, you position the drumsticks in your hands, feeling the familiar weight and texture of the material. Closing your eyes, you let muscle memory guide your movements as you begin to play. The rhythmic tapping of the drum reverberates through the air.

As you lose yourself in the music, your fingers move effortlessly across the drum's surface, producing a lively beat that echoes off the walls of the ship. With each stroke, super fast and then skilfully slow, you feel a sense of liberation.

Wrecker watches in awe, a grin spreading cross his face as he listens to the infectious rhythm you create. For a moment, all worries and cares fade away, replaced by the joy of listening to you play. Flourishing a finish, your cheeks warm to Wrecker applauding enthusiastically.

"Tha’ was amazing!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You've still got it."

You grin, feeling a surge of pride at his words. "Thanks, Wrecker," you reply, a sense of contentment washing over you. "Maybe we should start our own band."

“Definitely!”

Tech

"Is this yours?" Omega's voice interrupts your thoughts, drawing your attention to the slim case she's holding. As you approach, a wave of nostalgia washes over you at the sight of the familiar case.

"I haven't seen this for a long time," you smile warmly, taking the case into your hands. Kneeling down, you blow the dust off and flip open the lid, revealing your old clarinet nestled inside.

Omega's eyes widen with curiosity as she peers at the instrument. "Wow, that's cool! Did you play it?"

You nod, a fond smile on your face. "Yeah, I used to. In a colour guard and in parades."

"Can you play something now?" she asks eagerly.

Before you can respond, Omega suddenly calls out, "TECH! COME HERE!"

Tech, engrossed in his data pad, looks up in surprise and heads your way. "What is the nature of my presence this time, Omega?"

Omega launches into an exaggerated explanation of your discovery and her request. "Listen to them play."

Tech adjusts his goggles and looks down at you with curious eyes. "I was not aware you could play any instrument."

"I haven't in a long time," you admit sheepishly, wiping the mouthpiece and adjusting the bridge keys. "But I can give it a try."

With a deep breath, you bring the clarinet to your lips and begin to play a soft, melancholic tune. The notes fill the air, weaving a gentle melody that seems to resonate with the quiet stillness of the surroundings. It was a gentle tune, a stark difference to the ones you played in parades.

As you play, you notice Tech glancing up from his data pad, his expression softening as he listens intently to the music. It's a rare sight to see him so engrossed in something other than his work, and you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that your music has captured his attention.

By the time you finish the piece, Tech is still watching you, a thoughtful look on his face.

Omega bursts into a loud applause meanwhile Tech smiled at you. “I would not mind you playing that whilst I do some repairs... it’s rather relaxing.”

Crosshair

“What are you doing?” Crosshair's voice breaks your concentration mid-performance, and you freeze as your arms flail, causing the wooden rifle to slip from your grasp and clatter onto the grass.

You spin to face the clone, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. "I found my old rifle from when I used to perform," you explain quickly, bending down to retrieve the prop. With a flick of your foot, you send it spinning into the air, catching it effortlessly as it falls back down. "Want to see?"

Crosshair eyes the rifle with a hint of intrigue, his skepticism giving way to mild interest. "Perform? Rifles are for shooting. Not messing around with.”

“It’s wood, idiot.” You knock on the equipment before you then shrug, a sheepish grin tugging at your lips. "Anyway, it’s called rifle spinning. I used to do it as part of a routine in a performance group. It's more about coordination and showmanship than anything else. Wanna see?” You ask again.

Crosshair nods slowly, his gaze lingering on the rifle as you twirl it expertly in your hands. He stands back as you shows off your moves and he couldn’t hide the small impressed smirk forming on his lips. "You’re quite impressive I’ll give you that. But don't let it distract you from our mission." The compliment was rare but not one you were going to refuse as you give him a smile of thanks. But, he was right. There were more pressing matters at large.

You chuckle, nodding in agreement as you secure the rifle back in its holster. "Of course not. Just a little trip down memory lane."

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