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capricornus-rex · 4 years

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I was wondering if you could do a prompt with Cal and the reader where they’re both inquisitors, or the reader (as a Jedi/force-sensitive) having been supposedly “killed” during a fight with an inquisitor, only for Cal to find out later down the road that they’ve been turned into one, and it becomes his mission to save them and convince that he would never abandon them? I hope that’s okay and not asking for too much! ;~;

Nonsense! This is definitely okay and you’re not asking too much 😊😉 It was a little tricky to make the fic not look like a reverse twin of my 2 similar-sounding fics “Come Back To You” and “A Path I Can’t Follow,” but I saw it as a chance and a happy challenge to mix up the plot and add up what I wished I could’ve done on either fics. So, here you go, Anon! ☺ I hope you’ll enjoy the fic and I’m really sorry that it took a while in making it—as I was caught up in other requests and my own fic as well.

“Someone Left to Save” | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: The Mantis crew arrives to the capital of Ulfin, in the planet of Pevera, under siege. They meet the local rebel cell spearheaded by the former Republic admiral, Jax Beneb, who seeks to destroy the Empire’s occupation that was aggressively imposed upon while exploiting the planet of its natural resources. A plan is devised to destroy the Imperial’s main base of operations—as well as their influence—in the planet; however, it was a do-or-die mission that you and Cal had gotten yourselves caught in.

A/N: Also, Happy 40th Fic for me! ;;w;; I never saw myself expanding my masterlist with requests from other people, I just thought it would slowly grow with my own ideas and prompts but here I am now! 😭😭❤❤ I’m so glad you guys stuck around and liked my content, I’m forever grateful and really appreciate the support! You guys are the greatest!!! 🥰💖✨💜🌼

Tags: Force-Sensitive! Reader, Inquisitor! Reader, Jedi! Reader, Fake Death, Jedi turned Inquisitor, Seduction to the Dark Side, Turn to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force, Aftermath of Torture, Torture, Psychological Torture, Redemption Arc! Reader, Possible Redemption, Premonitions

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, physical and psychological torture

Also in AO3

Next: Part 2 | Masterlist

1 of ?

TWO DAYS BEFORE THE COUNTERATTACK

Many travelers would call Pevera as Felucia’s near twin—due to the vibrant, unusual, and colorful flora, the formidable yet fascinating fauna, and the great lakes that stretched and blotched across the continent. However, it colors begin to fade as the Empire devours it with its shroud.

All of you have gathered in one of the temple ruins that make up for the rebel cell’s meeting halls. Beneb and the fighters settled in the jungle that’s miles away from the capital Ulfin’s boundary. You and Cal listen in on the exchange of the soldiers and Beneb regarding their plan of their counterattack.

The main target? The Imperial outpost that’s been erected at the city.

The operation was quite elaborate for a rebel cell, nevertheless, Beeneb was confident that it was manageable—since he had put his faith on his soldiers to be the good ones, albeit being an interesting medley of misfits.

“We will strike at night—when they are most vulnerable, they’ll be under the impression that nobody will be outside due to the curfew,” Beneb interjects, he raises a finger at you. “[Y/N] will be part of the small division who’s in charge of planting the explosions at the very foundation of the building. The explosion will divert the Imps’ attention to their outpost while we free the captives and our men in their holding camps.”

And the former admiral moves his finger to Cal, “You, on the other hand, will go with the assault division. You’re one of the best fighters I’ve seen, my boy, and we’re gonna need all the brawn we can get until the captives have been freed.”

He never liked this idea not one bit—since its conception, he wasn’t really keen on the thought of having you take on one of the most dangerous tasks of this mission: explosives. You had to talk it out of him just so he’s convinced and reassured that this plan will come through.

At the end of the briefing, Cal pulled you to a secluded spot in the camp: at the side of a tent, which is still slightly in sight of other people around the camp.

“You’ve been uneasy since the start of the briefing,” you point out.

He reasons out his exact sentiments on the plan—he doesn’t like how Jax Beneb planned this whole counterattack.

“It seems risky,”

“Cal, in these times, everything is risky,” you argue. “I was hoping you’d have some trust in me—given that they put me in the explosives team.”

“I do trust you. It’s… It’s the plan I don’t trust,” Cal muttered, strictly within your earshot.

“They’re gonna have to do better if they wanted to kill me off,”

“Don’t joke like that,” he clicked his tongue, apparently ticked.

“I’m not joking,” you shrug your shoulders. “I meant it—I’m not that easy to get rid of, and neither are you.”

Cal fell silent. You had him back to a corner on that one. His eyes were wary of the partisans that passed you by, those pair of green irises shifted from one person to another, avoiding eye contact or greeting them with curt nods and mumbled hey’s and hi’s.

You bring your hand to his cheek, gingerly turning him to face you.

“I know it’s scary, but it’s gonna be okay,” you caress his cheek with the knuckle of your forefinger, he nuzzled his lip to the cushion of your thumb.

That same night, you were restless.

You’re haunted by the vision of red and orange burning blindingly behind your eyes, the rumble felt so surreal you feel the vibration at the soles of your feet, and whatever tension it brought you it was suffocating. Later on, in your nightmare, you’re greeted with the sight of Cal lying flat on the floor, facing up, his face is covered in ash and soot, red marks signify fresh yet minor burns, a streak of blood paints along the side of his face. Meanwhile, you can feel yourself lying right beside Cal’s unconscious—and seemingly dead—body. You want to scream, but you’re mute, with only the sound of a hundred, faceless screams, explosions, and the flaring inferno wrapping around the two of you.

“Cal, please get up…!” you hear your subconscious self beg, your voice cracking as you choke on your own words. You couldn’t even hoist your hand to nudge him, let alone touch.

He doesn’t budge. Embers continue to flutter over a plume of black smoke wafting in your direction.

You jolt up, awake in a cold sweat. Your eyes adjust to the dimness of your tent, lit by a single power lamp, your ears prick up and listen to the cacophony of insects chirping in the sparse vegetation of the outskirts. The bioluminescent sap of the trees flowing underneath the bark glowed around the camp in place of the bonfire that’s been put out for tonight.

Cal shuffled in his bed, he was woken up by your exclamation and shallow, rapid breathing.

“[Y/N], is something wrong?”

“I… Yeah…” you stammered, massaging both sides of your head as you hunched your back. “Bad dream is all… Sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep, Cal.”

He hesitated, but did so shortly afterwards. He didn’t close his eyes yet when he laid his back flat on his bed, he tossed to his side facing you, but you returned to your own bed with your back turned to him. Cal watched the steady by labored rise and fall of your shoulders as you coax yourself back to sleep, although you struggled in doing so.

It was a restless night. You literally fought it off by having a quick sparring session with one of the partisans.

Cal approached and leaned against the banister of the pen where you and spar buddy fought. He noticed the sleight of your hand is still intact—the grip around the hilt is firm and secure—but your ankles when buckling seemed flimsy; it’s not that he wanted you to fail, rather he anticipated the likeliness of you fumbling once the opponent lands a blow against your practice rod—which is nothing short of a typical electrostaff with a dead circuit.

“Did you get enough sleep last night?” asked Cal as soon as your sparring was over.

“I’ve caught enough winks. Why?”

“Your form looked off, that’s what,”

“Did I now?”

“Looks like you’re not as confident as you were yesterday,”

“Cal, my nightmare had nothing to do with the counterattack,”

He dismisses it by mouthing the word “Sure” and then the two of continued to talk with the banister between you. Seeing that he is the only person you can confide to with these kinds of dreams, you eventually caved in and narrated everything to him—even the macabre part where you find him lying lifeless next to you and he doesn’t budge.

“Okay, I won’t lie: that is scary.”

“It’s only a dream, Cal, don’t take it so seriously,”

“For a while there, you sounded like you did,”

“Well, it felt real—but that doesn’t mean I believe it,”

The bickering ended before the tension would even rise. Even if neither of you are talking about it, there’s always something that reminds you of it—anything was a potential stimulus: the campfire evoked the images of the burning light that seared your eyes, the collective voices of the fighters gradually melding together into one indistinct voice reminded you of the faceless screams.

This went on for the rest of the day, even during a recap meeting with Jax and the partisans. After that short meeting, you were led by one of the partisans who will handle the explosives with you on the day of the operation.

“Come on, we’ll teach you how the detonators work,”

“O-Okay…”

The partisan sensed the warble in your tone, she chuckled, although not to offend. The adult woman clapped your shoulder and slung her arm around it, hauling you to her side.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, little spark! You’ve got enough time to run away from it before the Imps could even realize it exists!”

While you were being stowed away by the detonations experts, Cal joined in with the fighters who were constantly warming up and sparring at one another—with the one collective reason that they want to be in tiptop shape when it’s time for the operation to be executed. Even without touching you, Cal had sensed your anxiety, he’s noticed your episodic wincing and migraine attacks, and though you insist that you’re fine—both of you perfectly know that nothing seems fine anymore as the day for the counterattack approaches ever so briskly.

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kolbisneat · 3 years

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MONTHLY MEDIA: December 2020

And so concludes another year! Maybe not the most ideal 12 months on record, but certainly memorable. I dunno. Anyway here’s how I wrapped up the year.

……….FILM……….

Gremlins (1984) Every time I watch this I just marvel at the fact that it was made. The practical effects are fantastic, the characters are so over-the-top that I think the Gremlin-sized mallet is the most believable part of the whole film. It just has that energy of a live-action cartoon and for that, I love it.

Gremlins (1990) This and Aliens fall under the category of sequels I didn’t like at first (for the hard turn in tone) but have come to really appreciate and enjoy. The opening with Bugs and Daffy really sets the tone for the whole thing and in hindsight, I appreciate how it manages to do all the same stuff that was loved about the original while making it feel bigger and different. Not necessarily better or worst, but definitely different.

Happiest Season (2020) It really felt like Harper was written to be the villain, right? Anyway it was a solid Christmas movie for a modern era, Kristen Stewart was a solid lead, and Dan Levy’s comedic timing is unreal. All-around fun watch.

The Family Stone (2005) Claire Danes and Luke Wilson are the only redeemable characters in this movie and while I don’t think they’d work out as a couple, it’s a shame they never get a chance to chat and just say “hey all of our family members are awful, right?!?” Actually Thad and Patrick are decent people, but I suppose they’re overshadowed by everyone else. Oof what a movie.

……….TELEVISION……….

Ted Lasso (Episode 1.01 to 1.10) Never have I more sincerely connected with a character’s outlook than Ted Lasso. It doesn’t matter if you know anything about Premier League soccer, what you get is an optimistic, heartfelt comedy that doesn’t punch up, punch down, or really punch at all. It’s gentle and kind and the sort of tv we need more of right now.

The Queen’s Gambit (Episode 1.01 to 1.07) Dang I thought I knew a little bit about chess but like...none of that helps here. It felt like a Rocky miniseries only chess instead of boxing (and I mean this all as a compliment). Given that the show doesn’t expect a knowledge of the grame, credit to the actors for communicating what’s happening in a game just through facial expressions. Worth checking out.

The Bachelorette (Episode 16.08 to 6.13) You know what, this was a pretty good season! It’s a shame we didn’t get any follow up after the proposal, but it was refreshing to see a group of guys who all got along and were just generally mature!

Mad Men (Episode 7.12 to 1.14) And so ends a pandemic-long viewing of Mad Men. First time watching it and I knew a little of how the series ended and honestly, I think it was fine! We got to check in with most of the cast and while I wish we could’ve kept going with these characters, it really did feel like they were all headed off in different directions anyway. Great series would highly recommend.

Neon Genesis Evangelion (1.07 to 1.11) It wasn’t until Asuka showed up that I realized this show is a metaphor for puberty and thus, is super horny all the time. Viewing through that lense, it’s an interesting allegory and the robot fights are cool.

The Mandalorian (Episode 2.01 to 2.08) For me, this show works best when it’s doing its own thing and just kinda existing in the world. The frog lady stuff, the random tasks, even the first ep did a good job of walking the line between fan service and the confidence to tell a new story. But dang if that last ep didn’t throw it all out the window. I’m just not a big enough Star Wars fan that I need to see all the old stuff again. It’s lazy writing and that’s what bums me out the most.

……….READING……….

Ring Shout by P. Djèlí Clark (Complete) Really great! I don’t read much modern(ish) day fantasy but the ideas and worldbuilding in this are so economic that it felt immediately familiar. Plus who doesn’t love the idea of a sword-wielding heroine cutting down monstrous klansmen?

Illuminatus Part III: Leviathan by Robert Shea and Robert Anton Wilson (Complete) After reading all three parts I can say, with confidence, that I have no idea who 90% of the characters are. Maybe it’s the similar names (John, George, Joe, etc.) or that every character talks like a philosophy student, but I just couldn’t separate them from each other. The plot and illuminati stuff was fun, but I’d seen so many great reviews and high praise that I was expecting it to be more fun.

Richard Stark's Parker: The Hunter by Darwyn Cooke (Complete) Darwyn Cooke’s effortlessly cool style elevates Stark’s pulp story to something that walks the line between classy and cruel. A murderous criminal is a tricky lead to follow but somehow you still want to see how it all shakes out. If you dig this first book then I recommend getting all 4 of Cooke’s interpretations of Stark’s work.

Scott Pilgrim Vol. 6: Scott Pilgrim’s Finest Hour by Bryan Lee O’Malley and Nathan Fairbairn (Complete) Still love this series after all these years and rereading them in color has been great. I still think the “glow”, as a twist/reveal, doesn’t really work and is somewhat convoluted, but it’s one misstep in what’s a consistently great run. The color version only adds to the quality of the book.

Dragon Ball 3-in-1 Vol. 2 by Akira Toriyama (Complete) This is the sort of light-hearted, good-natured comic I like to read around the holidays. There’s just something about a world where a criminal organization can be a mix of humans, bears, and a monster made of jelly that feels right, you know?

……….AUDIO……….

Song Exploder (Podcast) I’ve only listened to a handful of episodes so far but it’s really giving me a new perspective on music and the craft that goes into composing! I recommend starting with songs you like and then expanding from there.

……….GAMING……….

Neverland: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) A small seasonal interlude! I’ve posted a longer recap on Reddit but the group has temporarily resolved the issue of the island flood and have moved on to an escaped Fairy causing wintery havok and significantly dropping the overall island temperature.

D&D Homebrew Adventure (Menace of Merlin) And so concludes the adventure! I think I could’ve made the final showdown against Merlin a little more climactic, but live and learn. Now we’re taking a break as the group makes up new characters to play in this world!

And that’s it! We did it! Goodbye 2020 and here’s to a bigger and brighter 2021!

Happy Thursday!

#Monthly Media #Rambles #Kolbisneat #Andrew Kolb

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tae-cup · 4 years

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Cupid’s Blind Eye | Of Eternity and Euphoria (3)

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Summary: A demigod looking for love meets the god of love himself.

Warnings: N/A. This might be the fluffiest one so far. wait I lied it’s not fluffy at all. It’s really angsty. I’m sorry.

Word Count: 5.4k words

A/N: I have a lot of ideas for this series. So much so, I’m ignoring my other series. Like Hamartia and The Pact which I was s u p p o s e d to start by now. Smh this is what happens when I have too many ideas. I’m planning a spin off series for a Male!reader for this...I also wanted to tie this more into the overarching plot, but it’s okay, I’ll get you more park jimin okay. Consider me your supplier.

AS:ASJFLKWJQ:W it deleted my first draft >:(

Other:

Series Masterlist

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Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is winged cupid painted blind - William Shakespeare

Your knees hurt already. It had been all of 15 minutes, but the gravel under your legs wasn’t exactly comfortable. You had spent the last hour praying for the god of love to show himself and you fell to your knees desperately in the last 15.

“Oh, god of love.” You drawled sarcastically, ready to leave the dilapidated altar. “Answer my prayers.” You practically rolled your eyes, sick of this nonsense.

You stood slowly, realizing he probably wasn’t going to show himself any time soon. You swiped the gravel off your knees, not noticing the presence behind you.

“You should know not to be so disrespectful to your gods, darling.” A sly voice called. You froze. No way. When you turned to look, a man leaned against the pillars of the altar. He radiated lust and love, an inhuman aura. There was no doubt this was the god of love, lust, and passion.

And unlike him, you radiated a sort of pure aura; compared to him, of course. It drove him mad.

“Oh.” You were at a loss for words. His build was literally of the gods and his face, oh his face. You couldn’t find a single flaw in his face. From his adorable nose to his plump lips. You found yourself staring at his features for way longer than necessary. He smirked. This was a typical response to his appearance.

“Why do you seek me out?” He stepped forward, peering into your eyes.

“I want to know my soulmate.” You clenched your fists. Everyone you knew already found theirs. Your friend, Jennie, had explained that the god of love had helped her, but you didn’t believe her. You thought she was pulling your leg. The god quirked his head to the side.

“Why do you need to know that?”

“Because I’m sick of being alone.” You admitted, mouth feeling awfully dry as you nervously shifted from foot to foot.

His gaze softened, heart thumping.

“You won’t be alone forever.”

“It feels like it sometimes.”

“You’re a demigod.” It suddenly clicked. Your blatant disrespect of the gods, the odd aura surrounding you. Almost godly, but not quite. Not many demigods had a good connection to the gods. They were often cast aside, looked over, thought of as wannabes when many just wanted to live their lives. His altar wasn’t any different than the other crumbled ones around, the only indicator was the Greek letters above, but only a demigod would be able to read that.

“And you’re a god. I’ve come to learn that it doesn’t matter who you are, we all die in the end.” You frowned, thinking of your godly parent, one that had faded a long time ago, sentenced to eternal darkness for the atrocity of giving birth to you. However, being a demigod came with its perks. As long as you stayed healthy, you had longer lifespans while staying youthful. You had stopped aging around 25, but now you were around 60. You would likely begin aging around 100 and then die around 200. You had lived a long life so far without finding love. At first you thought it was possible, but as the years went on, no one gave you that spark, that burning sensation, that claimed them as your soulmate.

“Listen.” You sighed, “I just want to know if they exist. I’ve spent years searching and I thought fate was supposed to bring us together. Are they to be born in another timeline? Shall we never meet?”

The god of love frowned at your lack of faith in him as a god. He stepped forward, close enough for you to make out his face in detail. He radiated love, lust, and passion. His eyes were intense, but you didn’t find yourself scared. In fact, it was almost comforting. He was the definition of love.

“Do you have so little faith in me? Fate has brought you here.” He gently reached out and touched your shoulder. He just needed to check. It was silly to think that the god of love, could not seem to find his lover. There. That spark, that burn. It spread like a wildfire, consuming your everything. It felt like your atoms had rearranged, yearning to be completed by him.

You couldn’t do anything except stare at him. There was no way you were fated to one of the gods whom you so dearly despised. The gods had abandoned you as a child. Was this some cruel punishment? He softened his expression, taking in your frustrated form. Scared, worried, and anxious were reactions he expected from his soulmate, but anger was not one.

“I don’t have to be with you, you know?” You said bitterly. “I can choose to stay away. Not all soulmates stay together.”

Your words clearly had an effect on him because he nodded and stepped away. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion and hurt flashed across his face.

“I won’t force you to join me, but please reach out if you change your mind. You know where to find me.” He gestured to the altar. He, out of everyone, knew that you could put two perfect people next to each other in a room, but you couldn’t force them to love each other. Love was a tricky thing and Jimin knew it best. “Just ask for Jimin.”

Then he was gone, the wind seemingly taking him away. You rushed forward, looking for that sneaky god, but you couldn’t locate him. You had to admit you felt bad about reacting that way. He didn’t expect this either. With a sigh, you called out to the stones. “I’m Y/N. Lovely to meet you, Jimin.”

And of course he heard you. His eyes trailed your back as you ran back into your small town. It was one of the last towns who truly believed in the gods, that’s why so many had altars up. A smile made his way onto his face. Now it was just wait and see.

“Oh come on. You are way too boring, Jimin.” The fiance (I’m sorry I don’t have accents on this computer >:( ) of Yoongi rolled her eyes.

“___, You must understand, love just doesn’t work like that, You have to let it happen.”

“I bet she wants you to chase after her.” ___ continued. “Here, invite her to the wedding. She can be your plus one!”

“You’re too kind. I fear she may be afraid of the underworld.”

“Didn’t you say she’s a demigod?” Yoongi’s fiance quirked her head to the side. She was a human before a goddess. She had no bias against demigods and Jimin felt she was the best to approach about his encounter.

“Yes.”

“Then I doubt she’ll even bat an eye at the underworld.” She viewed her nails, thanking the workers and standing from the salon. “You came all the way to the human world just so you could whine about your love life to the goddess of the underworld. Seems right.”

Jimin scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. He was at a loss for words, however, and he bit his lip. “I came to you because she seems more human than god and I wanted to know your experience.”

“Well, Yoongi basically kidnapped me, but not really. I just knew I wanted to go with him. Then he and I hit it off from there. I fought with Taehyung, stirred up some shit, and now I’m going to be the downfall of Olympus.”

The other gods didn’t like her joking about the downfall of Olympus, but Jimin could always laugh.

“At least my nails will look good while it happens, yeah?”

The love god laughed along with her and the two walked over to the park. The park, known as Plyosum Park, was a great hotspot of godly energy. It was the quickest and easiest way to get to Olympus.

“Now, I must be going.” She smiled, “But, have you ever thought, Jimin, that she’s no more human than she is god? Maybe she just wants to be treated as the person she is; a demigod. That’s why I don’t think I can help you much. I wish you luck, however.” She sent a small wave to him before ghostly hands reached up and dragged her under.

Jimin sighed. She had a point. He’ll just treat you like any person. He let his wings grow out as he prepared to travel back to Olympus. They were a feathery white with golden flakes scattered in between. Many called him cupid for this, but he preferred the name Eros.

You opened the letter with caution. It had appeared on your desk when you arrived home and it definitely hadn’t been there before. The handwriting looked familiar, though you couldn’t place your finger on it.

Dear Y/N,

I am writing to you today because the god and goddess of the underworld are getting married. They have requested I bring along someone and of course my first thoughts were of you. It would be lovely if you are able to join me, but it’s quite alright if you don’t feel comfortable. Please consider my offer, but I will not hold it against you if you choose not to come.

Best,

Jimin

You had to chuckled at his formal phrasing, but you couldn’t blame him. He wanted to give you space and you respected him for being so cautious to your boundaries. It wasn’t expected of the god. After all, he was a god. He could have just kidnapped you on the spot. Maybe he just understands love doesn’t work like that. That made more sense. You carefully wrote back.

My dearest Jimin,

I would be honored to attend such a momentous occasion. Sadly, I seem to be at a lack of formal wear suitable for this kind of event, what do you suggest?

Best,

Y/N

Of course you had to shoot back with your own formal tone. You hoped he understood the sarcasm in it as you hiked to the only place you knew he visited. His altar was old, crumbling, very un-beautiful for the most beautiful god you knew. Then you remembered that you would be meeting many beautiful gods and goddesses in a short time.

You placed the far messier letter down at his altar and hurried back to the village. Jimin was waiting, hoping to catch you, but you were gone before he could even speak. He bent down and slowly picked up the letter. He hastily tore it open, smiling fondly at your words. It was a shame he didn’t get to see you properly before you rushed off.

It was in your nature, as a demigod, to be skiddish around most things; though you seemed to have more of a fight in you than other demigods. The issue was that demigods didn’t fit in anywhere. The gods despised them and regarded them as abominations, hybrids, wannabes. The humans weren’t much better, fearing anything they considered other. Demigods would rarely be able to rest without being hunted by one group or another.

Jimin looked to the middle distance, thinking about what outfit would best suit you. He wanted you to fit in with the other gods and goddesses. While he was a great believer in “love is love” other gods may try to bring you down simply because you were a demigod. It made him feel ill to think of what terrible things could come your way because of your mother’s mistake, not that you were a mistake. He mentally scolded himself. He was constantly on the fritz of checking himself and making sure he said the right things.

He shook his head, returning to his place in the clouds.

When there was a knock at your door, you jumped in surprise. It was not often that the village people visited you. You lived a lonely existence, but you decided this was fine.

“For: Y/N.” You read carefully, surveying the package on your doorstep. You glanced around, eyes flicking to the house next door and traveling down the empty road. Hurriedly, you grabbed the package and hauled it inside your house, slamming the door shut.

The box was more of a rectangle. It was long and flat and there was no return address. You had a feeling you knew who had delivered it. You walked to the kitchen and grabbed a pair of scissors. Then you approached the package, unsure of how to open it. If this was what you thought it was, you didn’t want to damage it. You gnawed at your lip, brows furrowed in concentration as you painstakingly cut through the thin strips of tape. This is ridiculous, just rip it open. You couldn’t bring yourself to do that, however. You didn’t want to rip the contents. So you continued your work before the box flaps finally undid themselves.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked at the dress. It was a light pink, an innocent color. You rushed to your room to try it on. Of course it fit perfectly. It had a tight bodice, hugging the upper half of your body in a flattering way. Then the rest of the material flowed from the bodice. Layers of tulle and silk fluttered to the ground. In the box also came a delicate silver crown, headband, thing. The silver was twisted into delicate branches that curved every which way, forming a sort of bramble. It looked so elegant and graceful. The accessories that came with the dress included silver earrings and bracelets. The most important was a necklace. It was an graceful, thin, silver chain, but at the bottom it was weighed down by a light pink gemstone. It seemed to glow, like a beating heart. You didn’t expect anything less from the god of love. You were stunning.

You couldn’t wait to wear it to the wedding in a few days. Jimin would surely be impressed. You found yourself blushing girlishly at the thought of impressing him. You wanted him to want you. To see his eyes light up when you entered a room. To kiss him. You gently placed your fingers on your lips, thinking of his plush ones on yours. You knew he would oblige you if you asked, but you had only met the once and the soulmate bond was inexplicably strong already. You were worried it would consume you if you let it. Would you still be standing if it did?

Days go by and now you stand at his altar. It’s desolate, looking lonelier than ever before. You shift nervously, having done your makeup to reflect the lightness you were sure he wanted to portray. You knew he was trying to get the other gods to like you and you were still wary of meeting them. However, you promised yourself that you would try, even if the other immortals didn’t. You didn’t want to pace, having already painstakingly made sure your dress wasn’t muddied on the way up. Where is he?

You were beginning to worry. Little did you know, Jimin was freaking out. He was pacing and getting far too worked up for a god.

“Hyung! What if-what if she gets scared and doesn’t want to see me again?” He whined to the sky god. He strutted up and down the hallway that led to his altar. He knew you were there, he could feel it, he just couldn’t bring himself to step through.

“Jiminie, she’s a demigod, she’ll be okay.” Jin squeezed his younger friend’s shoulder. Jimin had trusted Jin enough to tell him about you. He thought of telling Namjoon, longing for the elder’s advice more than anything, but there was something sneaky about that god that held him off.

“What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Why would she show up if she wasn’t interested?”

Jimin ran a hand through his hair and Jin could tell he was about to complain more so he stepped in.

“Hey, you’ll be okay.” He said softly, pushing the god of love towards the door. Who knew that such a suave man was so...scared of love? “If you’re worried about jumping off the deep end and drowning,” Jin had heard that falling for your soulmate often felt that way. “Then it’ll be okay. You’ll learn how to breathe underwater.”

The elder god then took the, now quiet, god by the shoulders and steered him down the hallway. The god of love took one heavy step after another. “Go, you’ll be late otherwise and that won’t do any good to lighten the other gods’ positions on her.” Jin said, almost scolding. The younger god just kept his mouth shut, nodding way too easily to his friend.

“Wait, Hyung-”

“Go.”

Then he was shoved through the doorway.

He stumbled straight into you, hands reflexively reaching out to stable you. You gasped in surprise, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Jimin! I thought you weren’t coming.” You said in a huff. The god stood there sheepishly, scratching his head.

“Right, I’m so sorry, I was...” Honesty is the best in any relationship. “...I was nervous.”

You tilted your head to the side. Usually it was the other way around with all the assholes you’d dated in the past. They were always entitled, never asking you about anything.

“Oh, I see.” You said awkwardly. “Well, it’s getting late.” You drifted off. Then you noticed him staring at you. Your cheeks flushed pink again at his gaze. It was intense, searching, as it took in your outfit. You heard him let out a soft breath.

“You look...ravishing.” He breathed, finally putting into words how he felt. But nothing could describe how you looked. You looked like a goddess. Perfection, beauty, grace, intelligence, all in one. He swallowed, trying to keep himself in check. He held out his hand, “Well?”

You hesitated, looking at his soft hands. Hands that had never worked a day in their lives. You cautiously place your hands in his and he pulled you close.

“Let’s go.” He murmured. How he managed to make two words sound so enticing was lost on you.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms...?” The goddess in front of you purred, holding out her hand. She somehow made it seem condescending. You and Jimin had been glued to the hip since you arrived, but he had briefly left to get drinks, leaving you to fend for yourself. Every god and goddess in the room was intrigued by you. You just kept thinking back to how extravagant the ceremony had been, but you had been more taken with how gracious the bride was. She was so bright compared to the god of the underworld, but somehow they got along.

“Y/N.” You smiled, your lips pressed together. You looked, and in someways were, like a goddess, but everyone knew there was something different. Your impostor syndrome was driving you mad.

“Right.” The feline-like goddess strolled away. You turned, trying to ignore the headache you had, only to bump into another god. He looked startled, jumping back quickly. He had an airy quality of innocence and bright light around him. He was handsome, devilishly so.

“Oh! I’m so sorry.” You exclaimed genuinely, looking at the god with confusion. He had this air of familiarity about him that you couldn’t quite place.

“No, no, it was my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He said shyly. Then an arm wrapped around your waist, a drink being handed to you softly. The man before you got visibly more pale at the sight of the god holding you. He didn’t seem scared, just sad, maybe even heartbroken. “Oh, I see.” He nodded quietly, mood doing a whole 180.

Jimin grimaced as he watched the other man retreat. He felt his heart strings tug, but pushed the pained feeling away. You could sense the tension so you carefully unwrapped yourself, taking his hands.

“Let’s dance.” You said softly. You weren’t sure what just happened, but it didn’t feel like your place to pry. As you place your hands on his shoulders and he planted his firmly on your waist, he let out a sigh.

“I know you’re curious, you can’t hide things from me.” He glanced around as you both blended into the crowd of other couples slow dancing. “That was Agape.”

You nodded slowly. That’s why you felt so familiar. Anyone who was close to Eros understood Agape well.

“Is that was he goes by?” You knew Agape to be the innocent love, the first love, and Eros to be a more sexual love, one filled with desire. You also knew that Jimin didn’t go by Eros, he went by Jimin. People often got him mixed up with Agape, claiming him as cupid, but Agape usually handled first love scenarios.

“No.” He said quietly, as if losing his will to speak. “He... he goes by-” He suddenly cut himself off. “Actually, he doesn’t like it when people refer to him by his real name. Just know that I like you now. You don’t need to worry about him.”

You frowned, eyebrows knitting together. “I never thought he would take you away from me? I was just interested.”

“Ah, yeah, there’s been...tension.” He didn’t give you any more explanation so you sought to change the topic.

“Tell me about the other gods.”

He seemed glad to change subjects. Instead, he told you about Seokjin, the friendly sky god who knew of your predicament. Then he went on about his Taehyungie, Kookie, and then his hyungs. You smiled warmly at all his fond remarks, discussing them as if they were his blood relatives. It humanized them, though you weren’t sure if that was intentional on his part. You had just warmed up to the idea of meeting these gods when someone screamed.

It wasn’t a happy scream. It was a blood curdling, ear piercing, shriek. A goddess ran from the entryway, clearly alarmed. You jumped and Jimin’s hold on you tightened.

You could see Taehyung pull his lover closer and Yoongi pushed his wife behind him. Other gods were taking defensive stances, eyeing the goddess warily. She was obviously a low level god, her aura faint and you were sure she was to die out soon. Seokjin carefully approached her like a wounded animal. Being the oldest, he had this responsibility; to meet all threats to his circle with full force.

“Ah, Ms. Lee, what troubles you today?”

The entire room stilled, watching Ms. Lee carefully. Seokjin spoke calmly, but there was a fierceness to his voice, a demanding power.

“We’re under attack up above. They’ll be here any minute!” She was inconsolable. You gripped Jimin’s arm and he held you impossibly closer. And attack? By who? The enemies of the gods were long gone and any god who tried to cause trouble was sure to be eliminated quickly. All the gods seemed troubled except a certain war god.

“Great! Then we’ll go to war!” He shouted, anger in his voice. Being the war god, you were sure it was his natural voice. Jimin started radiating a more dominating aura. You realized then that he had hidden most of it as to not freak you out. Now he glowed a luminescent light pink. You knew he was quite literally a lover, not a fighter.

“Now, now, how do we know this isn’t just a set up?” Yoongi narrowed his eyes, clearly not wishing to discuss war on his wedding night.

“Well either way we’d still be under attack.” The girl beside Taehyung breathed. She had a point, you couldn’t deny that. Jungkook’s eyes met briefly with Taehyung’s lover and you could almost see the spark of tension despite being a little ways away. Taehyung put himself between the two subtly. You had a feeling there was a story there.

“Jimin?” Your voice was a whisper as to not break the very thin surface tension of the room. He squeezed your hand in response to tell you he was listening. “Are we in danger?” Your heart beat rapidly. You knew you were the most human here. You were strong, but you wouldn’t last a second against a god. Okay, scratch that, you might last two seconds, being a demigod, but you were still severely disadvantaged. You didn’t want to a) be a burden and b) be killed.

“I’ll keep you safe, love.” He murmured quietly, leaning down and pressing a kiss on the top of your head. You felt your body heat up, wishing those lips to be on yours. You just nodded along, not trusting yourself to say anything else. Then there was a bang outside and the sound of the guards running. You turned to him. eyes wide.

Taehyung was already pushing his lover and Yoongi’s wife together, having another god usher them somewhere safe. You paused, wanting to join them. You even saw Yoongi’s wife turn and look at you expectantly. All the gods and goddesses who valued their lives were running. There was another bang and it was chaos. Those who had been frozen in place were now running and those who wished to fight were materializing their weapons. Jimin looked between you and the door, clearly debating. You gently pushed him towards his friends, knowing he wouldn’t want to leave his brothers.

Then you pressed a quick kiss on his cheek. He flushed red.

“Maybe you’ll get a kiss on the lips if you come back unscathed.” You joked, winking playfully as if he wasn’t about to go out and face...whatever was behind that entryway door. He didn’t respond, just nodding firmly. You rushed to join the other two women who were considered V.I.P.s because of their status and relationships to the inner circle. As you were ushered out of the room, you heard the door burst open and you prayed Jimin was safe.

You shivered, the dress not doing any good to keep you warm. The women beside you had hardly spoken a word to you except one, who was the bride herself. She had introduced herself to you and then gone quiet. Obviously, she was worried for her new husband. The other woman was shaking like a leaf. You were surprised the relationship between her and Taehyung worked, but you knew love worked in mysterious ways. The bride offered you a small smile, pulling off her pristine white cardigan and handing it to you. You thanked her lowly before resuming your staring contest with the wall.

It was a nice room, a library somewhere even more underground than the underworld. The goddess of the Earth was obviously more wary of you than the one of the underworld. Though, from what Jimin had briefed you on, she had once been a human too. You were all worried sick for your loved ones, of course. No one could think of much else. The constant shouting was driving you over the edge. You just wanted some peace and quiet.

Having always been introverted, you didn’t enjoy crowds for long periods of time. Keeping to yourself and staying out of the way was the best. As much as you disliked the gods, you and the women in the room were sharing a bond. A bond of fear. You were quite the opposite from Jimin in that way. He was a very social person, always going out of his way to talk to people, his words always smooth and graceful. You, on the other hand, were just...there. You stumbled over your words, rambled, and had trouble concealing your emotions as well as him.

There was a knock on the door. You all looked at each other, eyes wide and waiting for the password to be spoken. There was none. It’s not them. You mouthed. The door flew open before you had time to react. You counted your seconds. Two seconds against a god. You had two seconds.

You were just confused, however, when you were met with a familiar face.

“Mom?”

The long forgotten goddess didn’t even flinch at the anger in your expression, nor the tears that betrayed your pain. It was all too much. She had changed so much. Once the goddess of wisdom, the original goddess long before Namjoon, she held herself with grace. But her frame all bones, no fat, her face was gaunt, and she looked liked she had just walked out of a halloween store. Your breath caught in your throat as she grasped your arm, hard enough to cause a whimper of pain. The other women were forced to follow along as well.

She escorted you out to the ballroom. You felt yourself go pale, stomach dropping to the floor as you surveyed the room. Blood, everywhere. You couldn’t tell whose was whose. Gods are gods, but they bleed. And when they die, they must wait to be reborn once more. You felt your heart clench, seeing the inner circle on their knees. They looked defeated. Seokjin was comforting a sobbing girl, only to have her ripped away and whisked somewhere else. This made the elder god snarl, but he stopped almost immediately after looking at their captors. And who wouldn’t?

They were ghastly creatures, looking like demons out of a novel of pain and horror. Some of them had melted skin, others had hollow faces and haunting stares. All brandished with various “K”s on their bodies. You noticed your mother had one on the side of her neck. The gods were arguing with someone, but you couldn’t make out everything, the argument in full on Greek. Then there was a loud cough. Your mother threw forth the other two girls first. You watched Taehyung and Yoongi’s eyes go wide, before going back, completely feral, to arguing. Then your mother pulled you in close.

“Y/N.” She said coldly, despite her seemingly motherly embrace. “You have disappointed me greatly, I pray Kronos spares you.” Her lips were a thin line as she threw you to the ground too. You tripped over the debris and landed on your hands and knees. You looked up, meeting the eyes of Jimin.

You saw a quiet fury. You knew Jimin was diplomatic, he wouldn’t yell, but you could feel his anger from across the room. He mouthed ‘I love you’. And you frowned a little. This was not where you wanted to be confessed to. You wanted him to say to you, alone, and secluded. You selfishly wanted that. Now the enemy had stolen your first I Love Yous as well.

“Put her with the others.” You understood that part. The masked leader gestured to an underling who unceremoniously dragged you over to the other women. You huddled together as they shoved you into a cage with the crying girl from earlier. Yoongi’s wife wasn’t crying, but she did seem to be in a state of shock. Taehyung’s lover was crying, trying to conceal her sniffles. You gently shrugged off the cardigan from earlier, handing it to her. She took it quickly, hiding her face. You even heard the smallest thank you. Underlings surrounded you like specimen, watching you like you were zoo animals.

“Yoongi!” The bride called out, panicked. You felt it too. There was something bad coming. Then the cage moved and you felt nauseated from the sudden movement. You panicked fully for the first time. Where were they taking you?

“Jimin!” You screeched, hand stretching out. His eyes widened farther.

“Y/N!” He called back, fighting the restraints and lunging towards the cage.

Taehyung’s girlfriend sobbed loudly and Taehyung looked over, concern evident as he struggled to reach out, mental focus just on getting to his lover.

“I love you!” You cried. “Please look for us, don’t give up on us.” Came out your broken plea.

“I’ll search the ends of the universe just to see your face, Y/N.” You heard him say. The underlings restrained him and you sat back, feeling defeated already. The others knew you weren’t a goddess and they immediately babied you, knowing your body to be far more fragile from theirs. Tae’s girlfriend shot you small smiles of encouragement and you did so in return. Yoongi’s wife rubbed your back and the third mystery woman remained silent as you were driven to gods know where.

Last minute A/N: OKAY OKAY I admit it, I didn’t give this...a great happy ending. BUT BUT BUT I promise you a happy ending in the future-

#bts #tatawrites #of eternity and euphoria #bts x reader #jimin #park jimin #jimin x reader #fluff #god!BTS #God!Jimin #Demigod!reader #love #proof reading is dead to me #I'll just fix it later if I have the guts to reread my work

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kinetic-elaboration · 3 years

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December 10: Endings

The posts that have been going around about all these bad, nonsensical, random tv endings we’ve been seeing recently (GOT, T100, SPN), have made me think about what makes a good television ending in my opinion.

I admit that concluding a series is probably quite tricky because most shows, if they’re not miniseries, are conceived without a known end point in mind. A show runner can build an idea around a 5-season arc, but he might not actually get 5 seasons. He might only get 1. Or he might get 10, if the show is popular. So unlike a movie or a novel, the first episodes need to set up a general premise, a universe, a theme, but not necessarily a specific plot with X number of specific plot points leading to a pre-ordained conclusion. There has to be a flexibility to the narrative. But when the whole thing is completed, it should feel, ideally, as if it WAS pre-ordained, as if the show was always meant to have as many seasons as it got and was working toward its conclusion the whole time.

So, roughly, I think shows that stick the landing do so because the showrunner knows what the show is, at its core, about, and crafts a finale that relates to the central theme(s) and brings the main narrative to a logical and emotionally resonant conclusion.

This is very rough and very general, and it’s a formula that applies more to some shows than others. TV is incredibly varied after all. I mean, first off, not all shows know their last season is their last season going in. You can’t judge the final episodes of, to use two examples of shows I liked that were unceremoniously axed recently, The Society or Altered Carbon as “finale episodes” because they were never meant to be finales. Then you have a show like My So-Called Life, which does have a Classic ending, despite ending all too soon--mostly because every episode of that show was classic, and it only had one season, so its season finale being a fitting ending to the season automatically means its series finale was a fitting ending to the series.

(It’s such an outlier that I can’t really compare it to anything but honestly--this is how to do an open-ended cliffhanger and still make it feel like a conclusion. But that’s a whole different post.)

My formula above also doesn’t apply well to sitcoms, because they aren’t really about anything, in terms of plot. Like the name says, they set up situations: a group of people who are family, co-workers, friends, and then lets those situations play out in a funny manner for as long as there are jokes to tell. Sitcoms to me end well if they don’t overstay their welcome, if they remain true to the characters (because it’s the characters, not the minimal narrative, that defines the show), and if they hit an appropriate ‘ending’ tone. But the biggest thing for me is if the sitcom went on for too many seasons. Even if the final episode isn’t the greatest, it’s fine. But if the last 2-4 seasons were lackluster, it tarnishes the whole legacy.

‘Procedural’ type shows are yet another category, and I’m not entirely sure how to characterize those, or what makes a strong ending for that sub-genre. I’m using ‘procedural’ broadly to include, like, Bad Guy of the Week type shows--for example, Charmed, which I thought should have ended after S7. Again, I think it’s about not letting the whole thing go on too long, and then staying true to characters and tone in the finale itself.

So looking just at dramas that have a season’s warning before their finale--which, really, are the type of shows that are most likely to make people ANGRY with shitty endings, because they lure the viewer in with the idea that a singular, coherent story is being told. Maybe it’s convoluted. Maybe it’s winding. Maybe it’s hard to tell where they’re going with this. But if it all comes together in the end, none of that matters--and if it doesn’t come together, what was the point of all the seasons that came before? It becomes, retroactively, a betrayal.

The more plot-driven the show (if it has a mystery, a conspiracy theory, a quest), the greater the betrayal if all fizzles out. But I think the same feeling can arise from shoddy conclusions in dramas more generally. The L Word is one of my comfort shows but that last season is a MESS all the way down, the finale especially. There definitely wasn’t a point to anything, and it wasn’t even entertaining as, like, a dramatic soap.

But then I think about shows whose endings I really liked. For example, Six Feet Under had a great final season and one of the best finale episodes/ending sequences ever. The show up to that point had been about death, and that theme had always been centered most particularly on Nate: his fears of the family business, his previous brushes with death because of his AVM, etc. So of course the show had to end by killing one of its mains, coming full circle with the pilot, showing real grief hitting home--and of course Nate’s personal journey as the main character had to end with his death. Everything about the conclusion was fitting, not even counting the final montage.

I also really liked the conclusion of Big Love, for similar reasons: it was thoughtful, and it successfully teased out the main strands, both of plot and theme, that had run through the show up to that point. The most important thing had always been depicting this family, their problems but also their strength and their love for each other--so, as the showrunners said, it had to conclude by showing you that the family survives. They are strong, and their bonds endure. But the ending was, and had to be, bittersweet too, because anything less would seem to sweep under the rug the real tragedies of the last seasons. Not everyone gets happy endings. And the unhappy endings relate specifically to the toxic patriarchy that’s haunted all of the characters from the pilot. Alby has a chance to turn away from his father and the compound life--but the forces arrayed against him were too strong, so there was no deus ex machina for him, and he ultimately just became fully the evil villain. And Bill is taken out not by the state or by the compound but by an aggrieved man who feels he’s been emasculated, forgotten, who is raging against being so Unseen. What a way to make clear what the common denominator in all of the threats of the past 5 seasons has been.

I also give major points to shows whose finales feel like they’re trying, even if they’re imperfect, especially if the imperfections are because of factors outside the showrunner’s control. For example, I saw someone list Dollhouse as one of their ‘worst endings’ but I have to disagree. I like the ending of Dollhouse. It wasn’t supposed to be 2 seasons. That’s well known. But that’s how many seasons it got, and I think honestly they turned that into a plus rather than a minus. Dollhouse was its best when it was rushing to a conclusion, when it was fast-paced and exciting. Did it always make complete sense? No. Were there some pretty big holes in the plot? Yeah--S2′s Big Bad was absolutely and transparently a retcon instituted between S1 and S2 and I get that, and I forgive the show for that. I thought bifurcating the epilogue as two extra episodes after each of the two seasons was genius, and I liked that it allowed the show to have its cake and eat it too: a happy ending, with the main, immediate, singular Big Bad eliminated, at the end of S2, and a more bittersweet, more complicated, post-apoc ending in the bonus episode. Yeah, I can see the seams; I know there were a lot of constructed work arounds in there because the show was intended to be longer. I think the ending was presented in good faith.

I also, perhaps controversially, liked the ending of Veronica Mars (the original 3-season show; I didn’t see the reboot). The way the season aired was weird and didn’t do it any favors: having a long break before the last couple of episodes, which existed outside of the two Big Case arcs of S3, makes those final stories feel tacked on and random. Basically impossible to have a strong finish with that kind of structure. But the very end of the last ep had the bitter, dark feel of a noir, which is what the show was, a mash up of a noir and a high school drama. I liked that they leaned on the noir rather than the high school aspect, because it was the more creative way to go imo. Also, I appreciated that S3, in general, learned from S2′s mistakes. Yes, the college years are always going to be lackluster compared to high school, in any series that starts with its characters in high school. But VM recognized that no overarching mystery was going to compare to the Lilly Kane murder, so it split the Big Mystery into two Medium Sized mysteries, and I thought that was smart. All of which makes me inclined to think fondly of the conclusion. As with Dollhouse, its weakest points seem to be compromises it had to make, not really its fault but just an inevitable imperfection of the form.

It’s pretty easy to list aspects of a bad ending: a sense that events are arbitrary, a disrespect of characters, a rushed construction, a jarring tone, and most importantly a disconnect between the finale and what came before. If the show appeared to be a narrative (as opposed to a situation), but it doesn’t feel like a complete and coherent whole at the end, then the conclusion was bad.

I didn’t watch GOT or SPN and I stopped watching T100 at the end of S4 (though I do feel confident from tumblr that the ending was Bad), so I have somewhat of a hard time thinking of shows that I thought had really bad endings. I can think of dissatisfying endings that came from shows being cancelled without warning. I can think of shows that lasted too long in general or otherwise had fallen from their greatest heights by the time they limped to a conclusion (unpopular opinion: Friends fits in this category--that show should have been 4 seasons, maybe 5 tops; Boy Meets World and Dawson’s Creek are comfort show favorites of mine but they both should have ended with high school, like, pretty objectively speaking; iZombie started a slow downturn after S2 and by the end of S4 was kinda unwatchable. I literally stopped halfway through the finale.). I can even think of shows that lost me by the end even though objectively they probably had good endings (for example, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend--I couldn’t get through S4 and the finale sounded... technically well-constructed but like it would have driven me nuts).

But then I guess most shows with shitty finales technically had shitty last seasons in general. Truly notorious crash-and-burns don’t come out of nowhere. I mean I’m sure there are counter-examples to this (what’s that one with the kid and the snow globe lol?) but unless you try for a weird last-minute twist, or unless you’ve got your audience hoping against hope that an impossibly twisty story is actually very smart instead of very ill-planned, it’s generally clear before the last episode if a narrative has lost its way. I don’t tend to watch a lot of ‘twisty-turny conspiracy’ shows, and when I do I am supremely skeptical all the way through, so it’s hard for me to think of examples I’ve personally watched of a last minute “what the fuck was that” conclusion.

#the year 2020 #2020: fandom thoughts #the entire purpose of this ramble is for me to avoid introspection rn because i'm in such a bad mood

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