#buT WHEN MY SON FINALLY TOOK A LEAP OF FAITH

[aeternallis]

Kim's Place in the Mafia: Novel vs Show

The one thing I can say without a doubt in my mind is that from the crumbs we get of Kim and Chay from the book and show, these two are obsessively in love with each other. So I'll say that now and get that squared away.

And I know, most of the fandom detest the book due to its problematic authors and will never read it, and that's completely valid. Furthermore, I will say now that the book is trash and hardly coherent at times. But as my favorite English scholar for Ancient Rome, Mary Beard, once said: "It's trash...but it's very valuable trash."

For what it's worth, reading the book at least once can provide a more nuanced understanding of why the showrunners made the changes they did in the show. The changes in and of themselves makes for a more cohesive story (SOO MUCH MORE COHESIVE), but it also goes without saying that a lot of the events in the show remain faithful to the novel, so in that regard, there is some merit to be had.

Finally, when I say the novel is "trash", I mean the narrative itself, not necessarily the translation (although it's not perfect by any means). If anything, I'm grateful for the translators who took the time to translate this novel into English, since translation is a thankless job most times in fandom (lookin' at you, MDZS). As I speak no Thai whatsoever, I can’t give an informed opinion on DAEMI's technical writing abilities, since I'm not a native speaker, nor am I the book's target audience.

But, I digress.

The more I reread the book (in all its trash glory), the more I find myself questioning Kim's views in regards to how he sees himself as part of a mafia family. 🤔

In the book, Kim is a lot more accepting of his place within the mafia, despite his initial tendencies of disappearing on his guards and staying away from the main house. In fact, that pretty much changes once Chay enters the picture.

Gotta love a Kinn who's curious about his little bro's love life. XD

Kim is firmly settled into the fold of the family business (if that scene in the secret warehouse is anything to go by) and there’s a scene in the beginning of the book where Korn obligates all 3 sons to dress up in some fancy suits and visit their chocolate factory, since he’s particularly keen on getting it off the ground. This shows that although Kinn is set to inherit (in public, at least) the other two sons still have their duties to the family.

In fact, I will say that one of the most interesting things about reading the book is finding out that Kim's sleuthing is actually canon. Lol Granted, it's sleuthing more in regards to finding the mole and not really about Korn's game plan, but sleuthing nonetheless.

But in the show, his role within the family business and how he views it are a little bit more foggy because he has his musical career to keep him occupied, besides his sleuthing into Korn’s affairs. He’s not active in the way one would typically expect a member of the mafia to be (and who knows, this may be due to limited time constraints on the part of the showrunners), but he’s active within that sphere nonetheless.

And because of this, contrary to the general fandom consensus, I never really got the impression that Kim wanted to be out of the mafia, yknow? Personally, I think it’s too big of a leap to say him moving out = him not wanting to be in the mafia. Having that sort of character motivation wouldn't really make sense either, because then we would have had stronger hints of it, I think?

At the very least, by the end of the show, Kim--just like Chay--has more reasons to stay than not. The way I see it, Kim wanting to be out of the mafia would actually somewhat contradict his actions in the show.

Despite his effort in staying away from the mansion his father and brothers live in (and later on, Chay), Kim benefits from being a Theerapanyakul. We see this in a lot of different ways: the penthouse he lives in, the cars he drives (he gets his own set of the Maserati fleet, yo), his private studio, the freedom of movement he has in being able to easily get information (although this may be debatable), using Big as a gopher.

I highly doubt his career as a young musician is maintaining his luxurious lifestyle (perhaps only a part of it, like the fame); imo, there’s a calculated reason why BOC chose to keep the level of his fame as vague as possible. The way I see it, Kim moved out and pursued music simply because, due to his unique position of being the youngest son (aka the spare), he just had the luxury to do so.

If he truly wanted out of the mafia, I'm firmly on the camp that he could have done so already. We've seen in both the show and the book that unlike Kinn who's constrained by his duties, Kim does have the freedom to disappear, even to the point that it's to his detriment at times. Lol

Maybe I can go even further, and suggest that perhaps the reason he chose to move out is to get a better vantage point of the circumstances surrounding his father's schemes and the ongoing tides of power. Kinda like, he has to move away from the trees, in order to see the entire forest.

I wouldn't go so far as to say he wants power for himself (although this idea would be fun to entertain, especially within the context that he now has Chay in his life to protect), but again, being a member (a high-ranking one, at that) of the Theerapanyakul family benefits him in a lot of different ways.

In one of BOC's interviews and then in Jeff's goodbye message during the last KPWT, he mentioned something about Pond changing up Kim's character in order to make Jeff Satur shine. Idk about y'all, but that's quite a touching gesture, and one I definitely approve of, whilst I get a better understanding of the similarities and differences between novel!Kim and show!Kim. It's obvious from the show that besides changing Kim's maturity level and changing his image from a fuck boi to a cool prince, giving him a passion for music definitely humanized him and served as a way to balance out the other two love stories.

But be that as it may, although we the audience don't know as to what extent Pond changed Kim's character to better fit the story, at the very least maintaining Kim's position as a legitimate contender in the politics of the mafia world remains consistent in both the book and show.

Whether that observation lines up with the idea that he wants out of the mafia though, is entirely up to you. XD

#kimchay #kinnporche the series #kimhan theerapanyakul #character analysis #meta #kpts meta #kpts novel

[invisibleraven]

The race to 500!! It's always been you, peterpatterlina

NUMBER 500 Y'ALL! Seems fitting to do it with my OT3 and my favourite trope. I hope you enjoy!

Ser Reginald wiped the sweat from his brow, beaming at the chanting crowd. The tourney had gone well, and the purse was as good as his. It had been a good day.

If only he had someone to share it with.

Then he felt it, the tug of his heartstrings, meaning his fated love was nearby. He entered every tourney in hopes of this moment. Travelled far and wide, searching for them. To finally gaze upon his other half and proclaim his love.

Frantically he searched the crowd, eyes finally landing on the royal box where the fair Lady Julianna and her faithful guard Ser Lucas were sitting. Sharing a smile between them as he caught their eye. Could one of them be for him?

He approached slowly, not daring to hope, but the tug felt stronger and stronger as he got closer. Close enough to see the gap in the lady’s smile, the sparkle of the knights eyes. He gave a deep bow, but never broke their gaze.

Lady Julianna flushed and giggled, Ser Lucas shooting him a smirk. And Ser Reginald accepted the token-two cloths twined together, a brilliant royal purple twined with the deepest regal blue.

Oh.

Reginald looked that them then, and felt a tug at his heart… two tugs. For the two hearts opposite his own that were meant to be his. And he theirs.

He took the red cape from his back and tore a length from it, twining it with the one in his hand.

And just like that, three hearts beat as one.

~

Juliet grinned as she pushed her way through the crowd towards the Globe Theatre. It was rare that she got time off of her position as a lady in waiting to the Lady Caroline, but today the King's Men were premiring a new Shakespeare play. She had quite liked the last one what with her sharing a name with one of the characters.

Even if it made her weep uncontroallably at the end. She was glad this one was supposed to be a comedy.

And a comedy it was, Juliet finding herself laughing uproariously at the quips of Beatrice and Benedick. Booing Claudio when he disgraced Hero. Cheering when the happy ending came and all the lovers were wed and happy. It had been a lovely story.

Yet something changed when the actors came out for their bows. The role of Benedick had been played by a brash youth she had heard of; Lukas, the son of a wealthy Earl. His story had been passed amongst the maids, how he had run away to pursue trodding the boards. Juliet found it all rather foolishly romantic.

But the man playing Beatrice she did not know. He was introduced as Reginald, ward of Lord Peters, and she had to surpress a shiver at that. She had met the aforementioned lord at a ball once and he was a most unpleasant creature. She didn't think he would have the heart to harbour anyone, let alone take on a ward.

However, when the men joined hands to bow, their eyes met hers for a moment and it was as if lightning struck. Suddenly the world was filled with colour, bursting forth.

They looked equally startled, leaping from the stage and wading through the assembled audience until they met her. Lukas pressed a kiss to her hand, and then Reginald the other.

Juliet remarked on their glorious eyes, a spring time green and a sparkling topaz. They grinned, informing her that hers were the most enchanting shade of brown.

And nothing Shakespeare could write would ever top that love story.

~

Luc grinned as he and his fellow revolutionaries marched through the square, proclaiming liberty, equality, fraternity to all who would listen. The royal family cared not for them, so why did the people need a king who was content to feast while his subjects lay dying in the street from sickness and starvation?

Luc had been a student once upon a time, from a good family. Able to study poetry, music, history to his heart's content. He never wanted for anything and happily shared what he could with those who had less.

But then a childhood friend came back from war unable to work, unable to pay for food or medicine. And Luc found out too late, held poor Robert in his arms as he took his last breath. And vowed to make it right.

Sure, his parents had all but disowned him, but Luc wanted-needed-to fight so that no one else would lose their Robert.

So here he was, shouting alongside his brothers in the fight for freedom, pleading their case to a wealthy and unfeeling crowd. But some were listening, some were joining them. Even one more voice could lead to triumph.

Then a wealthy couple came into the square, and Luc swore the whole world froze.

They were beautiful, as the rich often are. But there was something about them that drew him in. Closer and closer until he was right in front of them.

"Oh, hello," the lady said, a genteel smile on her face.

"Lovely day," the man said with a tip of his hat and a genuine smile. "Strange that everyone else seems to be too still to enjoy it."

Luc looked around, and sure enough, no one was moving. Time had literally stopped for the three of them.

"Well that shouldn't stop us from taking advantage. Means first pickings for rowboats and picnic spots," he suggested.

The lady-Julietta he later learned, and her companion Reginald loved both of those things.

And yes, Luc still pledged to fight for the revolution, but his heart wasn't in the fight right this moment as it was busy entertwining with the two souls before him.

~

These three souls kept coming back together, lifetime after lifetime, always finding one another.

A trio of bandits in Edwardian times that felt a spark at the first touch of their hands all grabbing for the same display of jewels.

A nurse and soldiers admist the Great War who had been hearing each other's voices in their dreams since birth.

A gang boss, his girl and their trusty barkeep offering a refuge from Prohibition that had come together when an unruly waterfowl chased them together on a stroll through the park.

Three hippies who had lived with the tastes of each other's favourite foods on their lips that met at Woodstock.

They always found each other, had full and lovely lives together as often as they could.

And now it was their turn again.

~

Reggie was bored. He usually loved history class, but today the teacher was going on about the legend of reincarnated soulmates, and all the documentation surrounding the theory.

Don't get Reggie wrong, he is a romantic at heart, but he knows that all this soulmate nonsense is just that-nonsense.

At least for him.

Reggie has never felt a tug of strings, tasted something without food being there, heard voices or melodies. His world has been full of colour and sensation. He has no names scrawled on him, no handprints from a first touch or words first exchanged.

Reggie is a blank, and he's learned to live with it.

He has his friends, his band, what more could he ask for?

Apparently the sense enough not to eat street dogs.

But instead of getting reborn into a new life, Reggie, Luke, and Alex become ghosts. What's up with that?

Worse yet they end up 25 years in the future. Like... the hell universe?

Only now, Reggie thinks there might be something to the whole soulmate thing, watching Luke and Julie interact. How smitten they are, despite none of them being able to touch. How his heart longs for the both of them and he can never say.

Now matter how right it feels to play with them both while Alex is off with Willie (who he's fairly certain is Alex's soulmate, but the drummer hasn't said much either way). How when Julie smiles or Luke grins, Reggie's stomach does backflips.

How when Luke does that weird half kiss thing, it takes everything in Reggie not to reel him in for a real one.

How he longs to take Julie into his arms at The Orpheum when she sends him the softest most loving look he's ever been on the receiving end of.

And then later, when they can touch, literally glowing as they hug, Reggie takes a step back. Lets Luke and Julie have their moment. Alex is already gone to find Willie, and Reggie idly wonders if this means Ray and Carlos can see him now. Maybe some family type bonding would make him feel better about being the fifth wheel.

Only instead of some big sweeping kiss, Luke and Julie hold out their hands to him. Pull him into their embrace.

"Wh-what's going on?" Reggie stammers.

"Do you remember when we learned about past lives and soulmates in school?" Luke asks.

"I think I almost fell asleep in that class, but sure," Reggie replies.

"I have memories from mine," Julie says. Which is-almost unheard of. "And in every one, I had the two of you there with me."

"Me?" Reggie squeaks.

"It's always been you Reg," Luke replies.

"It's always been us," Julie amends. "Lifetime after lifetime, the three of us together. It wasn't until tonight that it really became clear, everything was fuzzy before. But when you guys poofed off stage, they all came rushing back, clear as day."

"I knew the second we all hugged, it was like an electric shock straight to my system," Luke admits. "Before we died, I had words on me-but neither in a language I could understand."

"Spanish?" Julie asks with a giggle. Luke shrugs with a sheepish smile.

"It said te amo?"

"That's Spanish for I love you," Julie confirms. "What about the other?"

"It was a bunch of symbols or something?" Luke says.

Reggie breaks from the embrace, grabbing Luke's notebook and quickly writes אני אוהב אותך. "Did it look like this?" Luke beams and nods.

"How did you know?"

"Because that's Hebrew," Reggie says. "For I love you."

"You know Hebrew?" Julie asks.

"I'm Jewish on my mom's side," Reggie says. "Not really devout, but I remember the language well enough." Then he frowns. "But I didn't have anything when we were alive. No signs or symbols, nothing."

"Reggie you and I met when we were in diapers," Luke says. "You probably knew it was me right from the start-no sign needed."

Oh.

"But... I don't have anything now either," he says.

"That's okay," Julie says, pulling him in. "We still love you no matter what." With that she perches up on her tiptoes and kisses him. It's sweet and gentle, the most perfect first kiss Reggie could ask for. Then when they break apart, Luke pulls him in for a kiss as well. Cheeky and playful, and Reggie grins into it.

Finally he steps back, and oh, Reggie can see the string that leads them together, just for a moment as Luke and Julie kiss. Can see everything birighter and clearer, can hear everything crisper.

Including their three hearts, finally beating in synch.

Wait... their hearts?

He reaches for Julie's hand, and places it on his chest, the other on Luke's.

And he knows it's real when she starts to cry happy tears. Can feel her relief, Luke's confused joy admist his own elatment.

He's still confused as to why all the soulmate signs are showing up after he found them, but he doesn't really care.

He's got a whole lifetime, and hundreds more after this one to figure it out.

And with Luke and Julie at his side for every single one.

#filled prompts #ficlet #rukebox #peterpatterlina #julie and the phantoms #gosh this got long

[thruheavenandhighwater]

Prom Night

Pairing: Eddie Munson/ Female OC

Requested By: NA

Word Count: 4,600

Summary: After finally getting the courage to ask out the girl of his dreams, Eddie takes to her to their senior prom.

Part two of Leap of Faith

Eddie Munson Masterlist Stranger Things Masterlist Series Masterlist

~~~~~

"You look good, kid," Wayne beamed as he stepped back to take in the sight in front of him. He felt pride swell in his chest as he gave his nephew a once over. Eddie was a few inches shorter than him, so the suit that he'd borrowed didn't sit exactly right on his frame, but it worked. 

Eddie smiled as he turned away from Wayne to inspect himself in the small bathroom mirror. He tugged at the lapels of the black jacket, straightening them against his chest. A wave of nerves crashed over Eddie without warning.

"I can't go," he cried as he ripped the jacket off and tossed it to Wayne. "You gotta call her, man. Tell her I died or something." 

“Eddie, calm down,” Wayne ordered, putting on the dad voice he rarely ever used. “You’re gonna go pick her up, you’re gonna dance, and you’re gonna get her home thirty minutes before curfew. Am I making myself clear?”

Eddie nodded, taking the jacket from his uncle. He sighed as he shrugged the jacket over his shoulders. He looked into the mirror once more. He saw Wayne standing behind him and caught his uncle’s reflection, making eye contact through the mirror. “I do look pretty good, huh?” 

Wayne rolled his eyes and walked away from the bathroom. Eddie took a few moments to collect himself, to just breathe. He allowed Wayne to take a few Polaroids of him in his suit in the living room. He knew damn well this might be his only opportunity to see him in anything other than torn jeans and black t-shirts. 

The drive across town was too long, Eddie thought. It gave him ample time to overthink everything about what was going on. Why would she agree to go with him? Did she lose a bet? Was she just so desperate for a date? Should he have cleaned the van more before picking her up?

When he parked in front of her house he took a moment to quickly clean the front seat. That would be enough, right? It’s not like he was planning to give her a grand tour of the entire vehicle before the night was over. Sure, some guys had spent the last month bragging about how they were going to ‘get lucky’ on prom night, but Eddie did not. He wasn’t that kind of guy. 

He walked up the steps to her front door. He took a moment to take a deep breath before bringing his hand up and knocking three times on the door in front of him. He heard shuffling behind the door before a man a little younger than Wayne swung it open. 

“Eddie?” He asked, cocking his eyebrow. 

“Yes, sir.”

The man eyed him harshly. He didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was scrutinizing everything about Eddie. "Now, son, I'm letting you take my only daughter out tonight under the assumption that you know a few things, but just for my own sanity, I'm gonna lay them out." Eddie didn't even blink as her father began to list them. "First, she will be home by midnight. If she's not in her bed at 12:01, I'm gonna come looking. Now this one's the most important so listen closely. She will be treated with respect. Do you understand?" 

"Yes, sir." Eddie nodded, swallowing around nothing as he stood under her father's scrutiny. 

Suddenly his features softened. His eyes, too similar to his daughter's, lit up above a bright smile. "Well, alright then," he said, clapping a heavy hand on Eddie's shoulder. 

"Oh, Brian, let him go," her mother called from another room. 

Her father, Brian, kept a steady, solid hand on Eddie's shoulder as he led him in the direction of her voice. They turned a corner into the living room. Her mother stood on the opposite side of the room, camera to her face while she took photos. 

From the back all he could see was her dress and her hair. Her dress was a shiny green number that stopped at her knees. Her hair was teased a little higher than normal for the occasion. She turned to Eddie with a smile and he would swear till his dying day that the sun was shining right there in that living room. She smiled up at him almost shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear. He was frozen in his spot when his eyes met hers. 

"Hi, Eddie," she greeted quietly. 

"You… you’re beautiful," he sighed. It was the only thing he could say, the only thing he could think. He barely registered Brian's hand squeezing his shoulder. He watched a deep pink blush crawl across her cheeks and her eyes fell to the carpeted floor between their shoes. She mumbled a quiet thank you and the moment was thankfully saved when her mother called Eddie into the room. 

"Come on," she called to him. "Let me get a few more pictures and then I'll let you guys go." 

Her mother snapped off pictures, adding them to a pile on the coffee table. When she was satisfied, she handed the camera to her daughter.

"Have fun, baby," she whispered to her daughter as she pulled her in for a hug. "Take pictures. I don't want any of those coming back unused." She smiled and shoved the camera into her purse. 

The drive to the dance was awkward at best. Neither of them could think of anything particularly clever to say to the other. Eddie kept his music down much lower than he usually liked, for her benefit. He’d even borrowed a mix tape from Robin. She insisted on it, telling him that no normal girl would want to listen to Ozzy on her way to her senior prom. He wasn’t exactly sure what was currently playing, but he hoped that she liked it. 

By the time he parked at the hotel that would be serving as their venue for the evening, he could have sworn he was sweating through his suit. But she seemed as cool and relaxed as ever. Her smile never faltered, not once in the 30 minute drive there. The sun was still high over them as they stood from the vehicle. The school, or maybe some overzealous PTA moms, had organized meals in the hotel restaurant for students. 

“Should we like, eat? Or something?” He asked nervously as the heavy glass door closed behind him. 

“Not hungry,” she answered. “Can I be real with you?” He nodded his head silently. “I’m so nervous right now I couldn’t eat a bite if I had to.”

“You? You’re nervous?”

“Well, yeah,” she laughed. She led him to the table at the front of the banquet room. They both flashed their tickets to the bored looking faculty volunteers manning the table before walking into the room. 

“If it makes you feel better, I’m nervous, too.”

“It actually kinda does,” she answered with a smile. 

The room seemed somehow so large and so cramped at the same time. Their entire graduating class, plus some of their dates from other schools all crammed into the room beneath the bright lights that had been set up by the DJ. They stood somewhat anxiously near the exit while a song neither of them seemed to know played over the speakers. 

“Are you thirsty?” He asked, leaning in to her to be heard over the music. She nodded, taking his hand in hers and walking with him to the small concessions table on the opposite side of the room. They collected plastic cups of watered down fruit punch from the PTA moms who were running the table. 

They sipped at their drinks uncomfortably as they swayed in place next to the wall. Eddie wished that he could think of something, anything, to break the tense silence that they found themselves in. She wished that she could be just a bit more brave. She’d already reached out, taken his hand in her own. How was she still too afraid to talk to him? 

“Kinda wish I’d thought to pack a notebook in my purse,” she laughed. He furrowed his brows as he looked down to her. “Seems like we talk a lot better when we’re passing notes.” His smile grew slightly. She loved the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled. She made a mental note to see those perfect little dimples as many times as she could before the night was through.

“Sorry I’m not cooler,” he laughed. 

“I think you’re plenty cool.”

“Is that so?”

“Totally,” she smiled. “You definitely have the coolest hair. And the best accessories.”

She took the cup from this hand and set it, along with her purse and her own cup, on a table near them. When she turned back to him she quietly took his hand again and began to toy with the large silver cross that sat on his pointer finger. She ran the pad over her thumb over the face of the cross before spinning it around his finger. Finally, in a moment of what she hoped was bravery and not stupidity, she slid the ring off of his hand. She tried it on each of her own fingers before finally settling it on her thumb. 

“You must have big hands,” she commented as she showed off the newest addition to her outfit. “It doesn’t even fit on my thumb.”

“Have you considered that you might just have small hands?” He asked, feeling his face go warm at the sight of his ring on her hand. She took his hand again, this time placing their palms together between them. Her fingertips ended below his last knuckle and he was able to wrap his own hand around hers. 

“See?” She laughed. “You have big hands.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and did everything he could not to spontaneously combust as she laced her fingers between his. He prayed to whatever entity might be listening that she wasn’t able to feel his palm sweating against her own. When she smiled up to him, the rainbow lights above them caught her eyes in a way that Eddie could only describe as ethereal. 

As he was about to say just that, the song changed. An upbeat Madonna song that Eddie never wanted to hear again gave way to soft piano chords that he actually recognized. He felt her hand squeezing his gently. Her eyes fell closed and she placed a hand to her chest. 

“Oh, I love this song.”

“You like REO?” He asked as Kevin Cronnin’s familiar voice began to filter through the speakers. 

“You like REO?” She repeated his question, sounding truly shocked. 

He hesitated for just a moment before pulling her to the dance floor. He had no clue whatsoever what he was doing. He felt his hands trembling as they fell to her waist. She seemed like an expert compared to him. She reached up, her hands landing on his shoulders. He was pretty sure that she was leading, whatever that meant. 

As the pre-chorus of the song began, he took a step closer to her. His hands moved to wrap around her as he pulled her closer to him. She smiled into his chest, glad that she had the chance to hide her blush. She laced her fingers behind his neck, beneath his curls. 

And even as I wander

I'm keeping you in sight

You're a candle in the window

On a cold, dark winter's night

And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might

Before he could stop himself, Eddie began to whisper the chorus of the song to her as they danced. He felt his heart skip a she pressed herself even closer to him. 

I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fightin' for

And if I have to crawl upon the floor

Come crashing through your door

Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore

He'd spent the last week anxious about the dance. He was nervous about people seeing him in a stupid suit. He was worried she'd think she made a mistake saying yes to him. That she'd end up leaving him alone at the dance for some handsome senior with a nicer car and better aspirations for his life. But as they swayed together on the dancefloor beneath the rainbow of lights, REO Speedwagon playing a little too loudly around them, it was suddenly like nothing else mattered. Nobody else was even in the room. Just the two of them, letting the music say what they had been too afraid to say themselves. 

She heard the song build to a crescendo as the chorus repeated one final time. She didn't want it to be over. She wanted the DJ to play it fifty more times so that she could stay in the moment forever. Wrapped up in Eddie's arms, warm and safe.  

The song ended with the same piano melody that it started with fading into another loud, upbeat pop song. Eddie glanced around them and saw other couples begin to separate. He thought that he should probably do the same. But she seemed happy to stay just as they were. He didn’t dare pull away. They stayed together on the dancefloor, chest to chest, as everyone else in the room moved around them. 

She pulled her face away from his chest just enough to look up at him. The way the lights framed his face was angelic. She giggled to herself at the thought. Eddie Munson, the resident freak of Hawkins High, the boy that everyone else in town was so sure was a satan worshiper… looked angelic. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked, his own smile growing to match her despite himself. 

“Nothin’,” she shook her head. “Just having a really good time.”

“So am I,” he answered. He leaned forward, his lips close to her ear. “Gettin’ kinda… crowded in here. Wanna sneak out?”

She shivered as his lips grazed over the shell of her ear. She nodded silently, not sure if her voice would work as she tried her best to calm her racing heart. Eddie moved his hands from around her back slowly, his palms dragging over her sides. She pulled her own hands from around his neck. When their hands found each other once more, it was no longer strange when they instinctively laced their fingers together. 

They walked back to the table against the wall that held their empty cups and her bag. He took her bag and led her through the center of the room towards an exit. There was a part of him, a nagging sort of voice in the back of head that was very aware that everyone in their graduating class could see them. He was almost sure that everyone had been watching them as they walked hand in hand through the crowded room. 

The exit led to a small patio with a few metal tables and chairs set up in front of a row of windows that showed the dance taking place on the other side of the glass. They could still hear the music being pumped through the speakers inside, but it was much quieter now. Quiet enough that they could actually hear each other speak. They walked to one of the tables, the metal chairs scraped across the cement patio as they pulled them out to sit beside each other.

Eddie cleared his throat, avoiding her eyes as he spoke up. “You’re really having a good time?” He asked, running his hands over his knees nervously. “You’re not just saying that to spare my delicate feelings, right?”

She laughed and Eddie thought it was the single most beautiful song he’d ever heard. “I promise, I’m having a great time.” She placed her hand over his, tucking her fingers beneath his palm. They sat in a comfortable quiet for a few minutes before she suddenly sat forward. She opened her purse and pulled out the camera her mother had given her before they left. 

“Smile!” She told him excitedly as she held it up to her face. 

Normally, Eddie never let his picture be taken. Even his uncle only had a small handful of photos, and almost all of them were taken when he was distracted or otherwise not expecting it. He’d throw his hand in front of his face or push the camera down anytime someone tried to take his picture. But this was different. This was her. And he knew years ago that he would do anything for her. So he did as she said and smiled for her. 

“I think that’ll be a good one,” she said affectionately as the picture printed from the bottom of the camera. “One more,” she told him, leaning close to him. 

He smelled her perfume as she put her arm out in front of them. She turned the camera towards them and pressed the button. He knew that this picture would be better than the first. His smile in this one was genuine as she pressed her cheek to his. 

They waited patiently as the photo developed on the table top. When she grew impatient she picked up both of them and turned them over to inspect them. She picked up the one of them together first. Her cheeks began to hurt as she smiled down at the photo in her hand. They looked so happy, smiling wide as the lights inside illuminated their faces. 

She handed him the photo to look at for himself. While he was looking at it, finding everything wrong with himself and thinking that she was the most intoxicatingly beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on, she was holding the photo of him tightly in her hands. She ran one finger gently over the edge as she studied the photo. She loved everything about it. Eddie's relaxed demeanor as he sat against the back of the chair. His smile, the way his hair laid over his shoulder. 

“Woah,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. Eddie's eyes barely grazed over the photo of himself. He didn’t like it and secretly hoped that she would let him dispose of it. His eyes trailed up her arms to her face and he found her looking over at him. He suddenly felt nervous again beneath her gaze. Just as he was about to pluck the photo from her hands and tuck it into his pocket to be dealt with later she spoke again, just a little louder this time. “You’re really handsome, you know.”

He felt goosebumps cover his entire body. His neck was suddenly too warm beneath the collar of his new shirt. He looked away from her again. He smiled as he looked down to his lap, her eyes heavy on him. “Oh, stop,” he chided. 

“No, seriously,” she smiled. “I’m so lucky I get to be at prom with the best guy in our class.”

Everything in Eddie’s mind and body wanted to reach out. He wanted to wrap her in his arms again. He wanted to pull her from her seat next to him and settle her onto his lap. He wanted to tangle his hands into her teased hair and kiss her until his lungs gave out. He wanted to make her feel as special and wanted as she made him feel. Instead of any of that, he scoffed and hoped that she couldn’t tell he was blushing bright red. 

The legs of her chair scraped against the concrete once more as she moved herself closer to him. She wrapped her hands around his bicep and rested her head against his shoulder. Her eyes fell closed as she sighed contentedly. He smiled down to her before resting his cheek against her head. 

“Think I’m gonna dent your hair,” he giggled softly. 

“I wanna say it’s okay, because I don’t want you to move. But we haven’t gotten our pictures done yet and I know my mother will have a meltdown if I don’t look perfect in them.” She sat up slowly and he was instantly sad at the loss of her warmth against him. 

“Guess we should go get pictures, then.” He told her, already standing. He put his hand out to her and revelled in the feeling of her hand in his. 

There was a line at the photographers station outside of the main room. They stood in line, hand in hand, as they slowly made their way to the front. At a table behind the photographer was a young woman with order sheets. Eddie took the form from her and filled it out in his messy handwriting. He added both of their names to the form, ordering plenty of copies for her family and his uncle. 

The older man behind the camera seemed somehow bored and particular at the same time. His voice was monotone as he told them how to pose. “Put your arm around her back, yeah like that,” he told Eddie. “You, get a little closer and put your hand up on his chest.” The flash was too bright in their faces as they both smiled at the camera. Once the photo was taken he was quick to usher them away, calling for the next couple in the same bored voice. 

“Do you, uh, wanna dance some more?” Eddie asked as they walked away. 

“Honestly? Not really,” she answered. “Dancing isn’t really my thing. I was having a lot more fun just like, hanging out with you outside.” 

“Well,” he started, a mischievous tone dripping from the single syllable. “We could leave and go hangout somewhere a little less… busy?”

She agreed and the pair quietly slipped away from the dance. Nobody batted an eye as they walked past the table where the faculty volunteers were now busying themselves with reading or grading last minute papers since there were no more students to admit to the dance. The parking lot was all but empty as they walked out the glass doors to Eddie’s van. He opened the passenger door for her, offering his hand to help her up into the vehicle. She smiled and nodded a silent thanks as she settled herself into the weathered seat. 

“Okay, so here’s the thing,” Eddie started as the engine rumbled to life. “I’m like, completely famished.” 

“God, me too,” she agreed. “We should have eaten when we got there.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, turning out of the parking lot. “But fear not, my lady, we do have options.”

“Oooh, what are my options?”

“Burger King or Pizza Hut,” he grinned.

“I’d kill for fries, honestly.”

“No need for violence, sweetheart.”

Her chest tightened at the pet name. She wanted to hear his voice wrap around the word for the rest of her life. She reached over the center console and rested her hand over his thigh as he drove. He took her hand in his, allowing their hands to rest comfortably against his lap. 

Once they’d secured their dinner Eddie drove them to an empty parking lot he frequented when his own thoughts would get a bit too loud to stay home. He parked the van, cutting the engine as she reached into the brown paper bag on her lap. 

"My mom would lose her ever loving mind if she knew I was eating this in my dress," she laughed, unwrapping her burger. 

"Why's that?" 

"The risk of me making a mess right now is like, astronomical." 

"Well, here," Eddie said, already in motion. He set his own sandwich on his lap and sat forward to pull his jacket off. "Less chance of the mess ending up on your dress. I don't wanna send you home covered in grease and ketchup, your parents would never let you leave again." 

She slid her arms into the warm sleeves. She breathed deeply, the scent enveloping her. A little bit of smoke, a little bit of cologne. It was all Eddie and it was her new favorite scent. She smiled to herself knowing that she'd probably fall asleep still smelling like him tonight. 

"Wait, where's your camera?" Eddie asked suddenly. She reached into her purse that sat beside her feet and retrieved the camera. He held his hand out excitedly as he turned on the cab light inside the van. "Smile!" He cried, echoing her words from the dance. She picked up her burger and flashed a bright smile to the camera. 

"Gonna have to burn that one," she said before taking a bite of her burger. Eddie mumbled a quiet hmm? in response, his own mouth already full. "My mom will shit if she sees it. Gotta destroy the evidence." 

"Oh, sweetheart, no," Eddie mumbled as he swallowed. "We gotta keep that one safe so we can show the grandkids." 

"We have grandkids?" 

"Yeah?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow like she should remember. "Can't believe you'd forget your own grandkids." 

She smiled affectionately, shaking her head. "You're really something else, Eddie Munson." He shoved a handful of fries into his mouth, hoping that she wouldn't see the bright red blush covering his face. It didn't work. She saw it and she loved it. 

The pair quickly finished their dinner as the sun slowly set behind them. They sat together, hands clasped in the middle of their bodies and talked about nothing and everything. They learned that they have a lot in common, but also a lot of differences. They were both only children who had no idea what to do after graduation. They both like spinach and hate mushrooms. They both had a blast poking fun at the other's music tastes. It was fun. It was easy for them to be together like this. Neither of them wanted to look at the time, dreading the end of the perfect evening. 

When Eddie did finally spare a glance at his watch he felt his pulse quicken. It had somehow gotten to be 11:15. They'd spent the better part of three hours in an empty parking lot without either of them noticing. 

Eddie quickly drove across town, parking his van in her driveway right on time. He made quick work of walking around the front of the van to help her stand out of it. When they reached her front door she took his hand in hers and looked at his watch. 

"It's barely 11:30," she told him. "Curfew isn't until midnight."

"Promised my uncle I'd have you home early." 

"Such a gentleman." 

He shrugged, a smirk coming to his face. "Don't go spreadin' that around town. People might start thinking I like you for some reason other than to sacrifice you in exchange for bountiful crops." 

"We definitely can't have that," she smiled. "Goodnight, Eddie." 

He watched her eyes dart quickly to his lips. She leaned towards him just enough for him to take the hint. He bent his head forward, his hand leaving hers in favor of cupping her jaw softly. His lips were chapped and all he could think about was that he should have asked for no onions on his burger. But the moment his lips touched hers, none of that mattered. He swore he felt every single cliche thing he'd ever heard in movies or songs. Butterflies. Fireworks. Electricity. 

He pulled away after a moment. Her lips were still pursed just slightly. Her eyes still closed as she tried to live in the moment for just a little longer. She felt his breath fan over her lips when he finally broke the silence.

"Goodnight, Faith." 

~~~~~

Feedback is always appreciated! Requests are open! Have a great weekend! 🥰 If you'd like to be tagged in my Stranger Things fics, please let me know. I also have individual tag lists for Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Steddie.

Tag List: @redwineanddnicotine @renaissan-vvitch

Eddie Tag List: @littlemiss-yeehaw @protecteddiemunson4vrvr @tayhar811

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x original character #eddie munson x female oc #eddie munsons x female original character #eddie munson/oc #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine #stranger things x oc #stranger things x original character #stranger things x female oc #stranger things x female original character #Spotify

[multi-lefaiye]

To Be Careless - Flash Fiction Friday

[Image Description: A banner with diagonal slashes of pink and orange over a grey background. Black text in the center of the image reads: “#FFF167 LEAP OF FAITH” / End ID.]

Finally participating in @flashfictionfridayofficial​ again!!! I really love the prompt for this week and wanted to give it a shot :> I hope y’all like it!! I took a bit of a loose approach to this prompt, I think, focusing on my OC Sol and their lack of trust in others after everything they’ve experienced. Here, the ‘leap of faith’ is their ability to trust anyone but themself. Might not be what y’all intended, but I hope you like it!!

Fandom: Original Work, inspired by the game Biomutant

Words: 984

Content Warnings: Semi-graphic descriptions of violence, including specific mentions of blood, broken bones, and fire; mentions of murder and death, as well as implied/referenced kidnapping; in general this is a whole thing about trauma and a lack of trust.

--

“Be careful.”

These were once the most important words in Sol’s life.

They first heard them when they were just a kidling, tottering around their parents’ paws. Their caretakers told them time and time again to watch their step, to tread lightly, and to always keep their wits about them. However, young Sol never listened, always brushing off others’ concerns easily. The world was too big, too exciting, and too full of endless possibilities for them to spend time being careful.

They didn’t know the world could hurt them, then, and they trusted the creatures around them to catch them if they fell.

This was a mistake that cost them everything.

They were nineteen cycles old when their fur was torn from their body, their bones shattered and their flesh torn by cruel claws. The world they had trusted had turned on them, and they paid the price for the trust they showed it in the first place. In the end, Sol was left a broken thing, alive only due to the cruel whims of an uncaring god and their own determination to drag their body out of hell.

In the aftermath of the assault that tore Sol limb from broken limb, Crane found them a. He was a gentle creature, all warm russet fur and shining blue eyes. Crane had known a life of hardship and pain, but instead of allowing it to harden him like it had hardened Sol, he chose to be kind.

With Crane’s strong, supportive hands holding them, Sol learned how to walk again, how to navigate a world that wanted them to hurt. They were no longer naive and careless, but Crane’s support gave them the confidence to try again, to take the leap of faith and trust someone once more. He would be there for them, no matter what happened.

Crane would catch them when they fell.

The two fell into a new life together, a comfortable routine cobbled together from the rubble of who they each used to be. They made their home in a cave, a tunnel beneath the cool earth lit by glowing moss and shielded from the elements, and they took odd jobs to support themselves.

“Be careful,” Crane would always tell them softly, pressing his muzzle to theirs, each time before one of them left for work.

“I always am,” Sol would always reply, bumping their head against his in turn. It was different, unlike anything Sol had ever thought they would have, but it was good, and it was theirs.

A few cycles into their new life, Sol and Crane had a son, and they named him Harvest. Having a child was another leap of faith for Sol, but it was one they took gladly. Raising Harvest was one of the most difficult things they’d ever experienced, but they wouldn’t trade it for the world.

However, nothing good in Sol’s life was meant to last.

All too soon, Sol’s new life was torn from them in a flash of fire, violent and all-consuming.

They were thirty-three cycles old when their home was destroyed and the one they trusted most stolen from them. Crane’s death was swift and brutal, his dark blood staining the earth beneath him as he fell. His eyes would never shine as he smiled at them again, now forever bound to stare lifelessly upward.

Sol felt a part of them die with Crane, but no matter how much it hurt, they kept fighting. The fire around them lit a spark inside them, and for the second time in their life, they dragged themself out of hell. With their son, only twelve cycles old himself, held tightly in their grasp, they fought their way out of the roaring flames.

After Crane’s death, Sol became a vicious, cruel thing, all sharp teeth and jagged talons, unwilling to let themself be hurt again. They never turned those claws or fangs towards their son, but they refused to trust anyone again. They’d been protective of Harvest before, but now they would burn the whole world to the ground if anything came near him.

Nothing would take their happiness from them again, as long as Sol had something to say about it.

“Be careful,” they told him, their voice low and serious, every time he left the den.

“I will,” he replied, rolling his eyes. He reminded them so much of themself, and they felt a pang in their chest at the thought of what might be awaiting him.

Only three cycles into their new life, Sol’s worst fears came true. In the dead of night, right under their nose, Harvest vanished without a word.

Sol searched high and low for him, the shattered remains of their heart hammering in their chest. They couldn’t lose Harvest, not after all they had done to keep him safe, not when he was all they had. The world couldn’t take this from them, not after everything.

For a time, Sol was overcome with despair, but it wasn’t long before the spark that had been lit inside them with Crane’s death became a snarling, crackling fire. They had decided long ago that the world would burn to the ground before they’d let anything happen to their son, and it was time for that promise to come true.

“Be careful.”

Those words had been said to them and by them so many times in their short life, and Sol was done following them now.

A few short months after Harvest’s disappearance, Sol took a leap of a very different kind as they threw themself headlong down the warpath. Their claws were sharp, their teeth were sharper, and they would never let anyone take anything from them again.

Trusting others had brought Sol their greatest joys in life, but it had also brought them suffering greater than anything they could’ve imagined.

It was time for them to strike back.

#flash fiction friday #multi's writing #heheoheo #i had a lot of fun writing this!!! #very happy to write again :3 #sol whitetail #biomutant rewritten #wahoooo #that's the tag for this at least

[starculler]

Fic List & Progress Tracker

An updated version of my previous WIP List Post. I'm always ready and willing to talk about anything on here :D

Last Updated: 4/10/2023

Series

(Dis)Placed:

A 7-part YJ/Avengers Crossover series currently undergoing a complete rewrite, featuring Dick Grayson and Clint Barton:

Losing It All Was Never So Easy

Robin is the latest pawn in the Light's newest game, and all it'll cost him is everything and everyone he's ever known and loved. >> 3028 words, first draft

It's A Leap of Faith (And A Little More)

Clint is ... So Tired, but there's a scared, traumatized, undead kid and no time to rest so he'll do what he does best and push on.

Grief Hangs Heavy In The Air

The anniversary of Dick's disappearance is coming up again, a suffocating and heavy affair for everyone left behind.

Dawn Breaks, Slowly But Surely, Over the Horizon

Life is odd when you're on the run, but Clint and Dick are making the most of it.

Building A Home Among the Ashes

They took Robin from him, but he's willing to put in the work to make it his own again.

The Bitter Taste In My Mouth

Bruce has lost and gained yet another son. This one... Somehow he'll keep this one safe. He can't lose anyone else.

One Foot In Front of the Other

What price is he willing to pay to get back everything he lost?

A New Cat In Town

A 2-part (and counting) AU where Selina takes in recently-orphaned Dick Grayson who goes on to become the thief known as Stray.

Shelter

Selina finds a 9-year-old orphan on the streets and while she'd never call herself a bleeding heart, she can't find it in herself to leave he little stray out here to die.

Debut

Word on the street is Catwoman's found herself a kitten

Crèchemaster Anakin

A 9-part series of multichap and oneshot fics about the version of events if Anakin had become a Crèche-minder instead

Lead Me Down Another Road

Anakin is 12 when his path to knighthood veers in a new, unexpected direction >> 3060 words, first draft

Untitled

There's a little Togruta that will not stop following Anakin around. The The crèche-minders and Obi-Wan find it funny and endearing. Anakin, however, has had it up to here with the snippy little youngling.

Hear the Drums of War

War is coming to the galaxy. It started with Geonosis, but no one know when (or how) it will end. >> 770 words, first draft

Untitled

Anakin watches initiates he's helped raise be sent off to war as fresh-faced Padawans and come back as corpses. Nobody's happy about it.

Untitled

It's been a year since Anakin officially stepped down from being Obi-Wan's Padawan, but Ahsoka still feels like she's stolen his place. Before she ships out to meet her new Master, she decides to approach the senior Padawan to clear the air.

The Taste of Victory is Bittersweet

Anakin is 22 when he finally becomes a Knight. He wishes his trials had been normal, rather than faced in battle.

Untitled

Anakin appreciates the congratulations and celebrations of his Knighting, but all he wants is to bury himself against a few of his favorite people and not think about the life his achievement cost.

End of An Era

The Jedi's fall is not a silent one. The Empire's rise is deafening.

Untitled

Lying to your friends is a reprehensible, if necessary, evil amidst the Empire's rise. Still, with Sabé, her former handmaidens, and a few loyal Senators at her side, Padmé will do what she must to help keep the few remaining Jedi safe.

ROTS AU

A 3-part series where Anakin falls, but his loved ones are enough to drag him back to the Light.

Part 1

Obi-Wan defies his orders to go to Utapau on a hunch and is there when Anakin and the 501st storm the Temple. This changes ... everything.

Part 2

Sidious gets his hands on Anakin. Tere was never going to be another ending to this story. Vader is inevitable whether his apprentice walks into the role willingly or not.

Part 3

Vader is the Emperor's right hand: a terrifying specter of a man clad head-to-toe in black. A nightmare whose very presence dims the light of whatever room he's in. Before him, all cower. Before him, the Emperor will fall.

Multichap & Oneshots

Batman:

On Your Knees

The shot rings in Dick’s ears, a piercing screech that muffles any sound Bruce might have made as he crumples to the ground. >> 2544 words, First Draft

Haunting (Of Wayne Manor)

Jason couldn’t care less that he’s been shut out of the family. He couldn’t care less about the chilling solitude or the gnawing pit in his stomach when he lingers too long on the why. And he certainly couldn’t care less about the Dick Grayson shaped specter chasing after him every hour of the day, bright and buoyant as he hadn’t been the night Jason’s gun put a bullet in his head.

Robin Reversal (Title TBD)

Dick is 9 and newly orphaned, but it’s not just Bruce and Alfred he has to get used to living with in the manor. It’s a lot less lonely of a start, but not everyone’s enthused about the manor’s newest guest.

Star Wars

Crèchemaster Vader

Crèchemaster Anakin alternate ending AU When the Jedi fall, The Sith Lord gets his hands on the potential apprentice long-denied him. Without the necessary sway over the young man, he settles for the gaggle of young hostages the Knight protected so fiercely that night. >> 1301 words, third draft

Events (Ongoing)

Flash Fiction Friday

12 Prompts Completed

DinCobb Zine Contribution (TBD)

Complete

Anidala Zine Contribution (TBD)

Complete

#fic list #fanfiction writer #pinned post #laying it out like this really puts it all in perspective lol

[itsfayehr]

Exodus Chapter 2 (part 1)

I want to divide this chapter into 4 parts beginning with verses 1-10. Part 2 is verse 11-14. Part 3 is 15- 22. and finally, verse 23-25 is the 4th part. The reason I want to separate them is because of the story as well as lessons involved. I really delved deep into each part because I believe that no part in the Bible is ever irrelevant or a mistake. Each letter is a word from God and should be taken seriously.

For today, I want to quote the Bible from the ESV because it gets the point across without it being overly complicated and confusing. And I want to divide it by verses so we can give it it’s due attention.

Ready? LET’S GO!

v1: Now a man from the house of Levi went and took as his wife a Levite woman. 2 The woman conceived and bore a son, and when she saw that he was a fine child, she hid him three months.

If you notice here, no one is named. And this is no mistake or laziness on the part of the author. It’s a deliberate literary way of saying where the child came from. And it didn’t name the parents at the outset for the reason that it is not quite the point of the author. It’s not part of this narrative as to who the parents are, just that they belong to the tribe of Levi.

To me, it’s curious because Levi took part in the murder of Shechem and his city. And in later chapters, his tribe was selected as the priestly tribe. They had no share of the property in Israel because God was their portion. Their lives were meant for service. But notice that at this time, Israel was still in slavery. God knows Levi’s past but did not use it against his descendants’ future.

Verse 2 is a wonderful verse. The mother of this child looked at him, she saw that he was a fine child. In the Amplified version, it says that the mother saw that he was exceedingly beautiful. The New Living Translation says that the mother saw that the child was special. This means that as soon as she saw the baby, she knew that the child had a purpose. And it’s curious that the next thing she did was to hide the child for three months. She knew the child was sent by God for a specific purpose and she had to hide the child instead of obeying the Pharaoh in killing the child.

v3:  When she could hide him no longer, she took for him a basket made of bulrushes and daubed it with bitumen and pitch. She put the child in it and placed it among the reeds by the river bank.

You can imagine what a new born baby is like. I took care of my nephew when he was a baby. And many nights I spent awake just rocking him to sleep. I would get up every two hours to feed him, burp him, change his diaper, and rock him back to sleep. And all the time my mother would wake up to see if everything was alright. I would take the child out during dawn when the sun first rises to give the child vitamins from the sun. And for this child’s first 3 months, the whole house was turned upside down because not only did we as a family have to do our daily tasks, but we also had to work around a schedule to meet the needs of my nephew.

In verse 3, we can definitely say that the birth of this child could spell a disaster. A crying child is very noticeable. And out of fear or leap of faith, the mother put the child in an ark and laid it by the river. I read a funny interpretation that the mother did literally what the Pharaoh said which was to throw the child into the river. The Pharaoh never said anything about making an ark for the child. But clearly, that’s not the point here.

The mother, instead of keeping the child and risking it’s death by discovery, chose to take a leap of faith. She deliberately placed the child into God’s hands by placing the child in the river. Not floating it down for the crocodiles to eat or any danger may come its way. Her wisdom and love, combined with God’s incredible mercy, came the salvation they had needed. 

Here we can see the similarities between the child’s initial phase of life to be similar to that of Noah. The latter’s family was placed in an ark, it was waterproofed by tar and pitch. And lastly, he was meant to save humanity. However, the child’s purpose was to save a certain nation. But we can see that what the devil intended for evil, God maneuvered in his own way a way for salvation. While the Nile was meant for the destruction of the Israelites, out of it came their savior.

v4: And his sister stood at a distance to know what would be done to him.

We can see that this was a whole family affair because his sister stood some distance away to see what would happen to the child.

v5   Now the daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe at the river, while her young women walked beside the river. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her servant woman, and she took it. 6 When she opened it, she saw the child, and behold, the baby was crying. She took pity on him and said, “This is one of the Hebrews’ children.”

Again, neither the Pharaoh nor his daughter is named. But their acts are very significant in God’s purpose. The offspring of a murderer took pity on the child. Some people think that this was because she didn’t know her father’s decree. I beg to differ because as soon as she saw the child, she immediately recognized the child’s ethnicity. In her heart, this is a child regardless of where he came from. And because of her pure intentions, she disobeyed the decree of her father. Pharaohs are considered to be gods at that time, which is why they were named after gods. Ramses was named Ra-moshe or born of Ra. She herself could have gotten into much trouble for saving the child. So we can see that God can even use unbelievers for his greater purpose.

7 Then his sister said to Pharaoh's daughter, “Shall I go and call you a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you?” 8 And Pharaoh's daughter said to her, “Go.” So the girl went and called the child's mother.

It’s amazing here the implications of the sister’s approach. The word “Then” implies that immediately the child’s sister came up to the princess. And to me it’s interesting that the princess did not even question why a commoner, a hebrew for that matter, would speak so boldly to her without any formality. In my mind, everyone knew what holding this child means and its importance is paramount. The survival of the child was more important than anything at that moment. Immediately, the princess told her to go and bring the child’s mother.

9 And Pharaoh's daughter said to her, “Take this child away and nurse him for me, and I will give you your wages.” So the woman took the child and nursed him. 10 When the child grew older, she brought him to Pharaoh's daughter, and he became her son. She named him Moses, “Because,” she said, “I drew him out of the water.”

I can almost imagine the sister running to the child’s mother and whispering in a hurried manner. The secrecy of it all for the sake of the child. And it’s amazing that the mother did in fact keep her child and taught the child all he needed to know. But what is more interesting is the fact that this child was not named yet until the very last verse. I don’t think the child was named when he was given back to the princess. I think the last verse was put there because what the entire chapter has shown us so far is that the names were not the emphasis.

What can Chapter 2 tell us thus far?

1) We are all called for a purpose.

I wanted to say here that actions speak louder than words but I feel like that’s such a cliché. I think the emphasis in the whole story is that it is not our title, our ethnicity, or our background that defines God’s purpose. God will use anyone and anything to His purpose. As the chapter unfolds, the characters’ actions and dynamics is given emphasis. The title here is not used to show importance or for any other reason than to show the characters as well as their significance in the culture at that time was involved. In fact, in the entire chapter, it is only Moses that has been named and only in the very last verse. To me, that speaks of a literary way of showing the horror that awaited should the child be discovered.

Also, it is amazing that the Pharaoh wanted to kill the baby boys. In the previous chapter, he even used women to implement his diabolical plan. But despite all of that, the women he thought were harmless would be the way in which God moved for His greater glory. The bottom-line is this: no one is too low or too high for God.

2) What the devil intended for evil, God will turn it around for good.

It’s curious to see how the Nile spelled both life and death for the characters. The Nile was the source of life for all Egyptians. In fact, Egypt literally means “black soil” because of siltation brought about by the river. And this siltation allowed vegetation for the entire country to be bountiful. The Nile’s flooding was believed to be given by the Egyptian god Hapi. But we see that the Pharaoh defiled even by their own terms the sacredness of this life-giving water and turned it into a symbol of death. But it’s amazing to see how God turns it around and saves one child. And it’s amazing to see that the future of an entire nation is in the hands of a baby that was supposed to die. But when God intervenes, he can turn anything around. The mother who thought she would lose the baby, ended up having the baby and being paid for it. Not only that, God gave her a second chance at life because wilfully disobeying the Pharaoh could have meant her death. All these women could have been severely punished. But God protects those that move by faith and are called according to his purpose.

[spidaerman]

@cyrushgoodman THE ANIMATION ABSOLUTELY BLEW ME AWWWWWWAY, ALL THE DETAILS PUT INTO IT WAS PHENOMENAL

THE SOUNDTRACKS WAS AMAZING, THE STORY, THE CHARACTERS, EVERYTHING WAS A PURE MASTERPIECE OH MY GODDD

I wanna rewatch it so bad too omgggg

#spiderman into the spider verse #spoiler #sort of #buT WHEN MY SON FINALLY TOOK A LEAP OF FAITH #OHHHH SHIIIIIIT #THAT WAS EPIC AS FUUUUUUCK #replies

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Sad Ending

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Reader

Warnings: Death, blood, injuries, what have you.

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: When you're reunited with Damian after year's of being apart, what he doesn't know is that you're there to say goodbye

A/N: This didn't quite turn out how it played out in my head but ig that's partly because I wasn't able to put in the filler parts in between cuz it just didn't fit. In hindsight I could've written a few more k's of words to fit it in but I reached my limit so I hope y'all enjoy it.

Your eyes were trained onto the figure in the crowd of the gala. The same figure it had been pinned to for a few weeks now and it would continue to be that way for as long as you could.

Damian Wayne was just as beautiful as you remembered him, with sharp eyes and a gorgeous face that had your heart leaping to your throat with a simple look. But you believed that the world wasn’t blessed with eyes gifted enough to see the true beauty of him.

A beauty that only someone who knew him on the inside would.

Everything about him was compelling, gorgeous, familiar. You watched him from afar in longing, wishing that you could go up to him but still you kept your distance, fearing the worst if he knew you were here.

Still, you remained selfish, indulging in your desires to get whatever glimpse of him that you could. You kept him away from you however, knowing that once you got a taste of him, you wouldn't be able to pull back.

But it was tough, you had missed him, so much.

Even so, you were content simply watching him.

You thought you were sneaky, that Damian didn't notice. Of course, you overestimated yourself, or underestimated him. And of course, in the traditional Wayne fashion, you had to expose yourself in the most dramatic and eccentric way possible.

The famous Damian Wayne, son of reputable and not to mention rich Bruce Wayne was attacked at the bank by a bunch of thugs, armed with weapons. The security was taken out swiftly and you imagined that Damian would quickly disarm the man threatening him with a knife.

Instead, he made no move, not even bothering to look remotely interested and just held up his hands like he was bored. The bandit, trigger-happy and confused, pulled back the blade in his hand, to try and stab him.

The crowd gasped and whimpered but were silenced by the man pointing a gun at them. Damian still didn't look phased. Instead, he lazily tilted his head until his eyes locked on your figure, hidden in the shadows. You stopped dead, watching carefully as he stared at you, completely tuning out the man putting his life in peril.

When the thug moved again, to try and stab him and Damian still didn't make any move, you leaped from your place before your mind could even process it, wedging yourself between the both of them and quickly disarming the man.

He fell to the ground, screaming in pain when you knocked the weapon out of his hands and then twisted his arm, hearing the painful crack of his shoulder getting pulled out of its socket.

You glared at the man behind you from the corner of your eye, "You could've gotten hurt."

He shrugged, "I knew you'd step in to protect me."

You scoffed, "You put a lot of faith in someone you haven't seen in years."

He just smirked in the infuriating way you knew he would before moving from behind you as more men came at you. With his help it didn't take long before they were all on the ground, either knocked out or groaning in pain.

"Um, can someone call an ambulance for these guys?"

When you turned, Damian was watching you with a small smile and your heart fluttered in your chest. You should've kept him at an arm's distance, you should have left but in the moment all you wanted to do was be in his arms.

Before you could even help yourself, you crashed into his chest like a falling star, wrapping your arms around his waist and breathing in the familiar scent of him. He held you tightly against him, cradling your head lovingly and gently pressed a kiss to your hairline.

"The league." You whispered to him, remembering why you were here.

Damian shushed you, tightening his arms around you and you were in a safe haven, sighing in relief against him. For a second, all the fear and guilt you had been feeling melted away.

Nothing else mattered as long as you were in his arms.

"We can discuss it back at home, (Y/N)." He muttered, now pulling away so he could lead you away from the police and reporters to his car.

You stared at your fingers intertwined with Damián’s, the engagement ring on your finger glimmering brightly under the sunlight and smiled unconsciously.

"I missed you." You sighed, feeling his fingers tighten around yours. Damian spared you another smile over his shoulder before you caught up with him, leaning into his arm.

"Me too, beloved."

****

"You should get some rest, beloved." Damian muttered, as the others began leaving the room. Your shoulders were still tense but you managed a smile, nodding at him.

"I'll just wash up and join you."

He smiled gently at you, raising your hand and placing a fluttering kiss to your knuckles before leaving. You watched the door as it slid shut and it was only then you let your expressions melt back onto your face.

"You may have the others fooled, but don't think for a second that you've pulled the wall over my eyes." Came from behind you and you froze, eyes widening.

You spun around to see Damian's brother, Tim, inch his way closer to you, figure stiff and guard up.

"Because Damian knows you, I'll assume your identity to be true. Damian was quick to trust you and the others followed suit but something's not adding up. Why are you here?"

His eyes were sharp and his gaze cut right through you. You didn't realize it but your hands were shaking even though you tried hard to maintain your composure.

"I—I told you," You croaked, cringing at your suddenly choked voice, "I was giving up on this life. I'm turning over a new leaf and hiding from the League until that happens."

"Then why come here?"

"I told you—"

"I don't believe you. You know why? Here's the problem with your story." He spoke, coolly, "Take it as a puzzle. The puzzle pieces all fit, but the picture, doesn't make sense. Why come here? When you're on the run from the League of Assassins no less?"

You were floundering, quite pathetically you might add, unable to think when your mind was flurrying so violently. It didn't help that Tim was speaking in such a condescending and strict manner that it intimidated you.

"Here's what I think happened; either you're here to lead the League to Damian, waiting until he's vulnerable and his guard is down to strike." He spat, "Or, you're not running from them at all. You're waiting until they find you."

You hesitantly raised your eyes to meet his, "You can't tell Damian."

"Since you even tried to entertain the fact that I'd hide Damian means that it's the latter. But why?"

"I was hand-chosen by Talia to be Damian's betrothed since birth. They handed me down to one of the main sergeants to be raised as their own. Except, they weren't that happy to have me." You explained, watching as his features smoothened over with realization.

The gears in his head were turning and you could only assume what was going on in his mind. He was a great detective; you could understand why he had Ra's' acknowledgement. But that made you all the more nervous, trembling hands holding onto the material of your shirt tightly.

"I was raised by them to be the perfect daughter, the perfect wife. As the person who was going to continue the 'Al Ghul' bloodline. However, soon after I was already perceived as a failure." You murmured, keeping your voice low in fear of any other Wayne's poking their head around and over-hearing.

"When Damian left the League to stay with Bruce." Tim realized and you nodded.

"Things just got worse after that. I sustained an injury from a mission and couldn't walk for a few months. My step-family was called on a mission for the last few of my recovery. When they returned, they were unaware of my progress but I decided to keep up the act that I was still unable to take care of myself. It was a few nights after that I heard them plotting to kill me since I became a liability and a shame to the family."

The man in front of you chuckled humourlessly, rubbing his tired face with his palm, "What kind of fucked up Cinderella story is this?"

You shared his sentiment, "Only difference to the original is that my prince never came. So, I had to take matters into my own hand."

Tim's eyes widened, "(Y/N), why is the league after you?"

You released a shuddering breath, "Damian can't find out."

He bristled, "Damian would protect you."

"And that's exactly why he can't find out. Damian would die to protect me, and if he tries to step in that's exactly what's going to happen."

"Then why come here? Why bring it to our home?"

You hid your face in your hands, "I didn't mean to. I just wanted to be selfish one last time. I was completely content with just watching him from a distance, I guess I overestimated my abilities. When we met, I was hoping he'd turn me away. I was hoping he'd tell me that he moved on and never wanted to see me again. I was hoping he'd tell me that he didn't feel anything for me."

Your eyes began watering and you felt the urge to hide and cry. Everything was getting messed up. Guilt took over you when you remembered how bright Damian's face was when he saw you, how right his hand felt in yours. How could you do this to him?

"Damian would want to know." Tim told you softly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder but your body stiffened up. He couldn't find out. He just couldn't.

"Are you really willing to put the life of your brother at risk for a girl you just met today?"

"You seem awfully keen to die." He commented, and you felt slight grief at his words. Of course, you didn't want to die. Not now, not when you were finally back in Damian's arms. Not ever.

You sniffled, biting your lip, "Damian shouldn't have to pay for my sins. I do."

His hand tightened on your shoulder and you found comfort in the warmth you could feel through your clothes, "I'll keep your secret."

Sighing in relief, you hugged him tightly, "Thank you."

****

When Damian woke up, his eyes flickered between the lamp beside him on the nightstand and then to the window. It was still dark outside, he assumed that he was woken up because of his usual schedule. It wasn't like him to miss patrol but the others suggested that he take a day off to rest.

He turned his neck to see that you weren't in bed beside him and wondered if last night had been a dream. It wouldn't have been the first time that he dreamt of you being by his side. But he remembered how much his heart pounded, he remembered feeling shocks all over his skin when he touched you.

And then he noticed the way the other side of the bed was mussed up, like someone had been sleeping there and he absently reached for that side, running his fingers up and down the fabric like he would be able to feel some residual warmth from your body.

Instead, the pads of his fingers came into contact with something coarse. His brows furrowed and he grabbed it between his fingers, realizing it was a folded piece of paper. Squinting and sitting up, he got a better look at it, recognizing his name scrawled in your handwriting.

'Damian.

I'm sorry that you'll have to find out this way but the League found my location a little earlier than expected. I'm going into hiding tonight. It's likely we'll never see each other again. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you this in person. Even though I know this is a missed opportunity for it and I should have summoned up the courage to say goodbye, I just couldn't stand the thought. And I couldn't watch myself break your heart. Please forgive me for this. I never wanted our lives to turn out this way, but I can't keep running away from reality and towards my desires anymore. You deserve so much more than I could ever even hope to offer you. And I know this is another mistake I'm making, but I left the ring you gave me. Thank you for giving it to me, but I think it belongs to someone else.

I love you, and I'm sorry.

-(Y/N)'

His heart rate picked up, skimming over the words a few more times. This had to be some sort of trick, he tried to decipher your words, tried to see if there were any clues, any codes but his heart clenched in his chest when he realized there was none. He pulled back the covers in a frantic motion and sure enough, the engagement ring you were given on your 18th was glimmering, abandoned by you.

Blood hammered through his ears and he threw off the covers, getting to his feet and sprinting through the doors. His feet pounded against the hardwood floors and then the metal floors of the Batcave.

"Damian? What're you doing up?" Dick asked, raising a brow as Damian marched his way down to the Bat Computer before pushing Tim out of the way and pulling up the Manor security cameras. You had managed to avoid all of them. Of course.

"We have to find (Y/N)." He said, not turning his eyes off the screen.

"(Y/N)? Wasn't she in bed with you?"

"If she was in my bed then I wouldn't be down here trying to find her, now would I?!" He bit back and then held out the note for Dick to read. Once he got through it, Dick squeezed his younger brother's shoulder as a sign of comfort.

"Don't worry, Little D, we'll find her."

"Damian, she said she doesn't want to be found. Don't you think you should listen to her and trust that she knows what's best?" Tim asked from behind him, hoping to get his brother to relax but Damian's back tensed up before he turned to his brother.

"You know something."

Tim froze, "What?"

But before he could even think of a cover story, Damian was grasping him by his collar, holding him to eye level to look the devil's grandson in the eye, "What are you not telling me, Drake?"

Realizing he's been caught, Tim pushed his hands off him, turning so that his back was facing him, "Doesn't matter. (Y/N) said she didn't want you to find out and I promised her."

He felt a little helpless watching Tim's back facing him. He didn't feel like himself. Every second that Damian spent away from you, when he knew that you could be in trouble had every part of him, every fibre of his being, every cell in his body ache with a pain he had never felt before.

Never in his life would he have thought that he would be brought to his knees by someone. But you held all the power over him and Damian would gladly kneel before you, his queen. And now he couldn't stand being away from you, he couldn't bear the ache in his nerves when he couldn't feel your skin under his.

"Tim." The silence in the cave was deafening as everyone looked between the two youngest brothers, "Please."

It was then Tim began doubting his choice. He bit his lip uncertainly, avoiding Damian's gaze and he looked to his feet, "She said she didn't want you to find out."

"Tell me."

And he did.

****

Your fingers were curled tightly around the handle of your sword, breaths coming out in sharp labours as you tried to deflect each of their offenses. There were too many of them, too many for you to take and even though you were able to dodge and counter most of their attacks, there could still hit you.

You were bloodied and shaking but you still refused to give up without a fight. They'd regret ever underestimating you, ever thinking that you were nothing more than a way to continue the Al Guhl bloodline. You were much more than that and they'd only see a fraction of it tonight.

Your resolved hardened in your veins as you sliced through another soldier, feeling more determined to get through this fight as the victor. Even though deep down you knew that it wouldn't change the end of your life, they'd never stop trying to hunt you down. But at least this way you'd put up a fight.

It was getting harder and harder to keep up the momentum, your speed and agility was retarding fast and decelerating with each hit you took. The wounds and cuts etched into your skin burned as you moved, blood dripping down your arms and legs.

Your body began going rigid, shocking in its movements momentarily as you kept flipping and manoeuvring yourself to doge the hits. That came to be a fatal mistake when your body locks up when you blocked one of the assassins, swords clashing together in the familiar sound of metal on metal.

Another came at you and your joints were locked in place, unable to move. Your mind blanked out and before you could slide the sword out to counter the other you heard someone scream your name.

You felt arms wrap tightly around your middle.

You saw green eyes.

And then you felt piercing pain in through your chest.

Damian heard you gasp in his ear and his grunt of pain echoed through your head as the katana went through him. Tears immediately clouded your vision when you felt fire burn across your middle, the blade of the sword buried into you as a painful reminder.

"Damian." You sobbed when you felt his knees buckle against yours. His body wanted to collapse, he couldn't stay standing much longer but you knew that if either of you moved, in an unsynced motion from each other, it could cause more pain to the other.

It was getting harder to breathe. You were choking on your own blood as the metallic taste filled your mouth. The sword had gone through Damian's lower abdomen but it had gone straight through your chest.

Your fingers dug into the back of his shirt, crying out into his neck, "Why did you come here?! Why didn't you stay away?"

With trembling fingers, he raised your chin so that your eyes would meet his. He was crying, the scorching pain forcing out more tears. Even then he wrenched a smile on his face.

"There's no one else in the entire universe I'd want by my side more than you. The ring is yours, my love."

Like as if on que, both your bodies crumbled towards the ground. The sword moved painfully through you and a garbled shriek left your mouth, muffled by the blood crawling up your throat.

Your head fell to Damian's chest and you heard the sound of his faint heartbeat, the sound getting farther and farther away as minutes passed. His arms were still wrapped around your waist in a lover's grasp, bodies pinned together until eventually everything went black.

Your prince came back for you this time.

What a shame the story had a sad ending.

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[fizzyxcustard]

Misunderstanding.

Masterlist of all fics are here

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, fluff, angst, brief/mild sexual references

Summary: From this imagine Thorin notices that you have been more distant recently, spending a lot of time away from him and he notices that you shy away when in the company of a male Dwarf called Hodel. He begins to have suspicions that you are being unfaithful and confronts you. 

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Thorin watched you from across the room. Yet again you were conversing with Hodel, one of the councilmen. The whispers and secrecy that you were both exhibiting was making Thorin frustrated. The King took a deep inhale of breath and closed his eyes for a second, trying to collect his thoughts. 

“Are you ready?” Thorin asked curtly, the frustration still taking hold of him. 

You looked at your husband, surprised by his sudden appearance. “Oh, I’m sorry, my love,” you replied, touching his arm. “I have a few things to discuss with Hodel. I shouldn’t be any more than an hour. I’ll meet you up in our chambers shortly.” 

“Fine,” Thorin half hissed. 

***

Things didn’t get much better for Thorin. Over a span of two weeks you were missing for dinner. Until one evening, Thorin had had enough and flung all of the food and glasses from the table. Everything smashed upon the stone floor, paired with the guttural shouts of anger from the King. 

Thorin was well aware that unfaithfulness was rampant in your society, and not being of the Dwarf race, you had no idea of how important loyalty was. Every relationship between Dwarves, whether platonic, family-orientated, or romantic, was always to be cherished. How could he have allowed someone from that kind of race into his life? A race of cheats and liars! 

Suddenly the door burst open and you swung in, cheerful and with a huge grin on your face. “Good evening, my love,” you giggled. “Uh...oh,” you said, glancing down, shocked by the broken glass and food lying across the floor. “Are you alright?” 

You approached your husband, ready to make sure that he had not come to any harm, but he flinched away. His eyes were cold and he shot you a look of complete distain over his fur-covered shoulder. 

“Thorin?” you asked. “My love?” 

“Don’t you dare call me that!” Thorin spat. 

“W...wha....what?” you stuttered in complete disbelief. “I don’t understand.” You shook your head for emphases, dazed and confused by your husband’s outburst. “What’s brought this on?”

“Do not act so innocent. I am surely not your love. I should have known better than marry someone from such a society that is unfaithful to the ones they should cherish beyond measure. Disgusting!” 

“You think I’m cheating?” you cried. “W....why? This is insane.” 

“Every evening and you disappear with Hodel. You are constantly whispering in council, trying to steer clear of me. Do you think I am a complete fool and don’t know what you are up to?” Thorin growled. 

Tears fell down your cheeks. How on earth could he ever think you would be unfaithful to him? Did Thorin even have any idea how much you adored him? No other man could ever compare to him; in every way he was superior. Thorin made your heart leap for joy, he pleased you, both physically and emotionally. Your love making had always been intense and you hoped that you would be blessed with a child soon. 

“How can you ever think I’d be unfaithful to you?” you wept, dropping down to the bed. “No one else can compare to you...ever.” 

Thorin crossed his arms, trying to remain composed, but the sight and sound of you crying always brought him to his knees in weakness. In a split second of that weakness, he approached you, his hand reaching out to brush your hair. 

You looked up at him and softly grabbed his hand, putting it your cheek. “I love you more than life itself, Thorin,” you sobbed. 

Thorin swallowed hard, trying to press the lump away which had developed. He averted his gaze to the ceiling and tears gathered, blurring his vision. “Why? Am I not good enough?” Thorin whispered, his voice breaking. 

“It’s me that isn’t enough, never you,” you replied. “I need to show you something...if you’ll let me.” 

“What...?”

You cut Thorin off. “Please. It’ll make everything clear and you’ll understand.” 

Both of you exited the bed chamber in complete silence. Thorin followed on behind you, praying to Mahal that this was a huge misunderstanding and that you really were faithful to him. 

You finally reached your destination. it was one of the many worker’s rooms, specifically where instruments were hand crafted from metal and wood. 

Thorin stepped inside after you, apprehension swarming in his gut. 

“Oh, my King,” Hodel stuttered as he saw you both at the door. He reached for a cover and tossed it over something quickly so as Thorin could not see. 

“It’s alright, Hodel. Can you give the King and I a minute alone, please?” you asked politely. 

“Of course, my Queen,” Hodel replied, lowering his head and then he disappeared. 

You walked over towards the covered object. With your back still to Thorin, you spoke, “This was supposed to be for our two-year anniversary next week, my love. I designed it especially for you and had Hodel and his son begin making it for you, but they encountered a couple of problems and that was why it took longer than it should have.” 

With a sigh, you picked up the cover, only to show a bright, gold plated harp. The gold had been fully moulded into the form of runes and had the markings of the date of your marriage. “The strings still have to be attached...”

Thorin spun you around and you gasped as you hit him gently. You put your hands on his chest and his wound his arms around your waist. Tears were pouring down the King’s face. “Please don’t,” you said, wiping his red cheeks with your thumbs. Then you pressed your forehead to his. “It will only ever be you that has my heart. Trust in that.” 

***

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[weaselbrownie]

thunders and warm hugs | d.m

draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary : scorpius came to your room at night because he couldn’t sleep due to the thunderstorm.

warning : dad draco, fluffiest fluff made at 3 am 

word count : 1.7k

The dark sky lit up, followed by a loud clapping of thunder. You watched the loud scenery from your living room window with a cup of warm tea in your hands. Nights like this really do remind you of your Hogwarts days, how you would stay up late sitting by the windows with Pansy when the wind and rain were chaotic outside. 

It's been a long time since you thought about your teen years, now an adult living in a beautiful home with the love of your life and your handsome son. You couldn't have thought of a better way to live life. The war took a lot of things but it also brought a lot of things, that day you nearly lost Draco and you were certain to never let that happen again– so here you were.

You were pulled from your thoughts by a string of laughter and paddles of little feet running down the hallways. You set your tea down and turned around to see your husband chasing your son around the living room. 

"C'mon now Scorpius– It's time for bed" Draco huffed a little out of breath from all the running. 

Your eyes followed as Scorpius ran at the speed of light, Draco behind him desperately trying to catch his hyperactive son. You laughed at his failed attempts and tried your famous trick to get him to calm down. You slowly walked to one of the couch in front of the roaring fire and sat down. You reached to your left to take a warm blanket and draped it over yourself before taking each end and stretching your arms to the side. 

"Scorpius?..." You softly called out 

"Honey could you come here for a second– mommy's cold"

All of a sudden the sound of little feet padding started to get closer and closer to you. Before you knew it Scorpius climbed up the couch and jumped into your arms. Upon seeing him you closed your arms and wrapped the blanket over him, tucking him in like a little burrito. Scorpius however didn't fight back like he would if Draco were to wrap him up as you did. Instead, Scorpius just snuggled deeper into your embrace starting to calm down. 

Draco stood behind the two of you and kissed the top of your head from the back of the couch before coming around to sit next to you. Draco smiled down at the two of you and extended his hand out. You shifted your gaze towards him and took his cold hands into your warm ones. 

"Mommy awe you still cold?" Scorpius asked as he lifted his face from your chest to look up at you. 

"No baby I'm all warmed up now– thank you" You answered your son softly as you kissed the top of his head before brushing fallen strands of pale locks from his face. 

The sky then suddenly lit up again followed by another loud clapping of the thunder. Scorpius squealed under you and held onto you a little tighter. You rocked him back and forth before whispering to him telling him it's just the thunders. Draco took this opportunity to shift closer to you and pull you in for a hug. Your muscles relaxed into Draco and he set your head on the crook of his neck. The three of you stayed on the couch for a little while longer before you could hear the soft snores of Scorpius. 

You sat up from Draco and motioned your head to your son sleeping soundly on your chest. Draco fixed his posture and leaned down to take the sleeping boy from you and brought him to his chest instead. Draco slowly sat up and motioned for you to do the same. 

"Wait for me in the bedroom yeah?" Draco whispered while taking closer steps to you. 

You nodded and gave him a soft smile before Draco turned around to take Scorpius to his own room. You turned around and reached for your wand before tidying up the couch and turning off the fire. 

You walked up the grand stairs leading to your room and opened the first door to the right. You continued to walk into the connecting bathroom to change into one of Draco's shirts before coming back to your room to sit on the end of your bed. Not long after you settled Draco came in and slowly closed the door to your room before sprinting up at you– tackling you to the bed. 

"Merlin Draco– you've got to stop running up to me like that" You laughed out while trying to wriggle out of Draco's grasp above you.

Draco's hand wandered to your sides as his lips found the side of your neck, kissing and breathing cool air to the space– ticking you. His lips danced along your collarbone and trailed up to your jaw and your cheeks– peppering you with kisses you laughed at him.

"Oh so Scorpius can and I can't?" Draco scoffed after he stopped kissing your face.

"You're not three sweetheart" 

"No no– I get it you have replaced me with my own son" 

"Oh shut up you big baby" You chirped as you flipped the two of you, making you on top.

Draco dramatically pouted at your action and tried to look annoyed but it just looked like a cartoon puppy who's lost his bone. A small smile paints your lips as you look down to admire your husband in an 'annoyed' state. Knowing Draco and how to crack his codes and mood swings you leaned down to capture his lips just for him to move away from you. You smirked at him as this happens one too many times before, you gave it a couple of tries– to capture his lips but it was no use. Giving up you brought your hands to his cheeks– cupping it and keeping it in place before finally putting your lips on his. 

Draco's soft lips moved in sync with yours as you felt time stopped. You have known Draco for most of your life but not a day has gone by where he doesn't make you feel like a princess and gives you butterflies in your stomach. Draco moved his hands to the small of your back as you deepened the kiss before a flash of lightning struck by your window– making the both of you jump.

You pulled away from Draco in panic as your gaze snapped to the window and the lit sky. You took a second to catch your breath before shifting your gaze back to your husband under you who's grinning widely. 

"What are you doing with your face?" You asked him as you knitted your eyebrows together. 

"You're scared" Draco murmured with the stupid grin still plastered on his face. 

"Am not!" 

"Mhm alright–"

"Draco Malfoy I am not scared!"

"Hush angel it's okay" Draco laughed at you as he softly grabbed the back of your head guiding it to the crook of his neck. "Like mother like son" Draco whispered to you before letting out another chuckle at your struggle to get out of his grasp. 

You finally gave out after a few minutes of fighting Draco and melted into his embrace. He moved his arms to your lower back before kissing your temple once more. The sky lit up again as another loud thunder echoed your room. You flinched a little and held onto him a little tighter not wanting him to disappear. Draco moved his head to whisper sweet nothings in your ear as your eyelids start to grow heavy. 

Right when you were about to give in to sleep the door to your room opened making you and Draco jolt up and sat straight on the bed to turn the bedside lamp on. Nobody was seen to enter the room before the door closed again. 

"Mommy? Daddy? Awe you awake?" 

Upon hearing the whispered voice you moved to the end of the bed to see Scorpius with tears in his eyes holding onto his little bunny. You smiled down at your son and Draco moved the blanket that covered his legs and bent down to meet Scoupius' face. Draco opened his arms and Scorpius jumped into him, closing his little arms around Draco's shoulders. 

"I'm sowwy– I twied to stay but it was scawy" Scorpius sniffled as he snuggled into Draco's neck once again. 

"Hey, it's alright– you want to stay with mommy and daddy tonight?" Draco pulled away from Scorpius to see him slowly nodding. Draco stood up with Scorpius in his arms before moving to the bed and placed him on the sheets next to you. 

"Oh my baby– come here" You cooed as you took Scorpius from Draco's arms and into your own. 

You lifted the covers and placed your son next to you, fluffing the pillow behind him and leaning him back. Scorpius was quick to settle in– bringing his bunny with him under the covers. You too settled back down under the covers as Draco got in and mimicked your actions. Draco then proceeded to drape one of his arms over the both of you and hooking his hand on the small of your back, trapping Scorpius in the middle. You looked up at Draco to find him already staring at you with a smile that danced softly on his lips. You slowly leaned down to your son who was getting sleepy again and then up to your husband who's admiring his little family. You gave Draco a quick kiss before settling back down hugging Scorpius. 

Life hasn't been easy, there was always something wrong peeking in every corner just waiting to jump out at you. For the longest time, you were unsure of a lot of things, knowing anything could change in a millisecond. You didn't have a lot of faith when the war came but you held on to that small voice on the back of your head telling you to fight back, telling you to look forward to what life had to offer. For once you felt a leap of faith and listened to that voice– and here you were. Snuggled up in your beautiful home with your wonderful son and the love of your life in your arms. 

For the longest time, you were unsure of a lot of things, but this– looking at your boys who were both sound asleep in your arms, you were always sure of them, sure that this was forever. And so you hold on and wait to see what more surprises life will bring you. 

#draco #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fluff #draco x y/n #draco imagine #draco malfoy x reader #dad!draco #scorpius malfoy #baby scorpius #harry potter #harry potter imagine

[neo-shitty]

stray kids masterlist.

☆ - reader’s favorite,  ♡ - writer’s pick

back to main masterlist | navigation

OT8 SERIES

IN THESE HALLS. —  you are a student of seoul’s top arts high school, SSA. during your sophomore year, you stumble upon a group of boys who took you under their wing. the rest was history. | a compilation of high school aus set in the same universe

BANG CHAN

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS. — in which your only company is the hum of the train beneath your feet and the numbness in your chest—waist-deep in regret and envious of the happiness that could’ve been yours. 3.3k. angst.

DROWN. — in which the music wasn’t enough to drown out the thoughts inside his head anymore. 3k. hurt/comfort(?), slight fluff, slight angst, high school!au

GLADIUS MAXIMUS. —  in which they didn’t tell you that superheroes didn’t always come in suits and capes. some came in casual clothes, OP bronze swords and sparky hands. 2.8k. percy jackson and the olympians!au, comedy.

IF I FALL. ♡ — “so i walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, i was drizzle and she was a hurricane.” - john green, looking for alaska. 2.9k. fluff, prom night!au, high school!au

STAR LOST. — in which you find out the hard way that leaping off of skyscrapers was one of the ideal dates of the sky god’s favorite son. sequel to gladius maximus. 1.3k. fluff, pjo!au, established relationship!au

ZERO DEGREES. — “closed-eyed and hoping for a better life.” 5.6k. heavy angst.

drabbles :: on the ride home ♡

LEE MINHO

BACK BEFORE SUNDOWN. ♡ — today was a nice day. just you, minho, the woods, and its occupant. 1.4k. horror, gore, paranormal, slight fluff.

PATCH UP. —  prompt. #35 - sick x concerned: where there’s a lack lot of mother-henning for ficscafe’s au pairing event 1.4k. fluff, neighbor!au

ROGER RABBIT.  ☆ ♡ —  notorious troublemaker lee minho teeters between suspension and expulsion when he finally gets caught, except it’s for something he didn’t do and when the boy cries ‘innocent’, no one bats an eyelash to drive the wolves of consequence away. with only one eye witness and the world’s faith turned away from him, it’s up to his friends to white out a well-earned reputation and serve justice where it’s due. (all prior cases that led up to said notorious reputation aside, though.) 26.8k. adventure, comedy, high school!au

TIMEPIECE.  —  time was often a concept too hard to grasp. for most things, it passes—irreversible—its marks left on whatever it touches. flowers wilting, buildings crumbling, people aging, all things fickle and impermanent. then there were those stuck in its loop long enough to become one with it like the seasons that changed in a number of months, and there were those whose clocks have already ticked their last—the dead. 2.9k. angst, shingeki no kyojin/attack on titan!au

drabbles ::  sharp-tongued

SEO CHANGBIN

FIVE STAR. ☆ — changbin wasn’t the five-star michelin their song suggested but he was a five-star boyfriend to you and somehow that was enough. 1.5k. fluff, established relationship!au, idol!au

SAFETY PIN. —  just because changbin knows how to put away a knife doesn’t change the fact that he knows how to wield one. 2.5k, hurt/comfort, angst, bestfriends!au

UNDER STREETLIGHTS. —  when his own light dims, changbin wades the darkness of both the night and his mind alone. he needs someone tonight but that isn’t something the local convenience store across the street can offer. or can it? 5k. hurt/comfort, fluff, platonic(?), student council!au, high school!au

HWANG HYUNJIN

DAYBREAK. —  every morning was a no-clip out of the reality whenever he was with you. 3.1k. fluff, high school!au

MEET ME WHERE THE FLOWERS ARE. ♡ — “ano daw la kun aadi la gihap? iba gud it kabutangan hiton akon kinabuhi.” (what if you were still here? things would’ve turned out differently.) — hain ka, bullet dumas 1.7k. hurt/comfort, angst

drabbles :: beside you, district nine, in the comfort of your apartment

HAN JISUNG

BRUISE LEE. — han jisung has lost to lees all his life, he should’ve been used to it by now. 2.6k. fluff, high school!au.

CHECKMATE. ☆ ♡ —  in which a group of friends decided to play a realistic game of mafia where it was all fun in games until one of them goes missing. 19.3k. mystery, thriller, high school!au

GHOSTING. ☆ ♡ — after months of radio silence, jisung shows up on the rooftop of your friend’s house as if nothing had changed at all. 1.8k. angst, slice of life, best friends!au

KARAOKE BLUES. —  when in doubt, have a karaoke night out. or in which the first real hurdle of your seemingly flawless relationship is finals week (and miscommunication and a tad bit of overreaction). 2.1k. fluff, slight comedy, camping!au, established relationship!au

KETCHUP. —  after months of skirting around each other, it was about time for the both of you to catch up. 1.9k. fluff, high school!au.

OBLIVIATE. — in which you found yourself alone with han jisung again; still fighting the same battle, but this time on two different sides. 2.8k. harry potter/hogwarts!au, angst, enemies to lovers.

OREO MINE. ☆ — the universe never worked in han jisung’s favor so when it (finally) did, he wasn’t ready for it. supplementary fic to bruise lee. 3.7k. fluff, high school!au.

drabbles :: try hard

LEE YONGBOK

ROAD RUNNERS. —  road running was just like any other high-paying job brought about by the new road management system. high risk, high reward. another position had been vacated in your station, you just hoped the newbie would last a little longer than the last one did. 2.6k. dystopian, kind of workmates!au

drabbles :: sunshower :: chevron signs

KIM SEUNGMIN

THE LONELY HEARTS CLUB. —  when you reach the point at world’s end where nothing seems to go your way anymore, will company be enough to console you? 2.1k. angst, hurt/(no)comfort, platonic!au, friendship!au, university!au

THOU SHALL NOT DIE. ♡ —  “do you think if you put your life on the line fighting for others, someone will stamp a form certifying you deserve to live?” — ryunosuke akutagawa, bungo stray dogs. 2k. angst, sci-fi, fantasy, dystopian!au

WHEN THE DUST SETTLES. ♡ —  prompt. #21 - sharing your umbrella with them in the rain from the 50 wordless ways to say i love you list. 1.8k. slice of life, hurt/comfort, high school!au

drabbles :: at lunch break, in the rain, proofreader(bf)!seungmin ☆ ♡

YANG JEONGIN

HEARTBREAK GIRL. — introducing yang jeongin: resident best friend, never the boyfriend. 1.4k. fluff, slight angst, slight pining, best friends!au, high school!au

These are works of FICTION. All of the characters, organizations, events and places mentioned in these stories are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

Copyright © 2020-2022 by neo-shitty.

#stray kids fics #skz fics #skz masterlist #masterlist

[swan-of-sunrise]

The Right Choice (Tales From The SSR)

Summary: After squaring away his new position within the West Coast SSR, Jack finally asks (Y/N) out on a date.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Here’s a look at what happened almost immediately after the end of Specs and the Flyboy, and there’s a lot of fluff here! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

The Right Choice December 1947 West Coast Strategic Scientific Reserve, Los Angeles (Previous One-Shot)

“Just when I thought we’d finally gotten rid of you for good, you had to go and fall in love with my top codebreaker,” Daniel said with feigned exasperation, the corners of his mouth curling upwards in an amused grin as he hung his crutch up onto his hook and sat down behind his desk. “Just my luck, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.” Jack absentmindedly hummed at the chief’s words while he stared through the office window at (Y/N); the codebreaker was finishing up a report on her typewriter, her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose as she concentrated on her work. Her vivid red lipstick had long-since faded into a pretty shade of pink and while he admired the focused expression on her beautiful face, he felt himself begin to smile at the memory of their passion-filled kisses. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that his massive leap of faith had actually paid off and that (Y/N) loved him just as much as he loved her; I’ve gotta be the luckiest son of a bitch on the face of the planet, he thought to himself, his heart leaping in his chest when the codebreaker’s eyes met his and returning her shy smile with one of his own.

“…Jack? Hello, Earth to Jack!” Jack quickly turned his attention to Peggy, who leaned against the edge of Daniel’s desk and let out a low whistle. “I think you’ve got a little bit of drool on your chin, Lieutenant…”

With his face beginning to warm in embarrassment, Jack shot back, “Oh, you’re one to talk, Carter, you know how many months I had to put up with you makin’ eyes at Danny Boy here back in New York?” Peggy scoffed while Daniel’s ears turned pink, and Jack flashed them both a triumphant smirk before leaning back in his chair. “So, how’s this job interview gonna work? Did you two want my resumé or my list of references first?”

Daniel chuckled and shook his head. “That’s really not necessary, Thompson, you’ve got a job at this branch as long as I’m running things; we just wanted to hear the whole story about how you turned down the CIA position.”

“Yes, from what we’ve heard Senator Cooper was quite insistent that you take up the position,” Peggy added, her nose wrinkling as she mentioned the senator’s name. “I can’t say that I’m very fond of the man, especially after hearing about what he said to (Y/N) during his visit.”

Jack nodded in agreement. “You and me both, Peg, he’s a real horse’s ass. There’s not really much to hear, though-”

“C’mon, Thompson, it’s the least you can do! You know how hard it was keeping all this a secret from (Y/N)? A very sad, very lonely (Y/N)? Rose and Zhang nearly spilled the beans at least three times this week, and even I almost blabbed earlier at the hospital.” Daniel pointed out as Peggy nodded in agreement, and Jack let out a defeated sigh.

“Well, by the time my first plane landed in Colorado I knew that I wanted to come right back here but I figured that there were things I needed to settle before I could; I had to thoroughly vet my replacement – and before either of you wise-asses ask, no, Chief Harding’s not a Russian spy – and I had to get out of my apartment’s lease and arrange to have my things shipped out here. After I did all that I paid Senator Cooper a visit at his office downtown, returned his letter of recommendation and told him I wasn’t interested in being his political tool before storming out. Doesn’t make for a very interesting story, but that’s pretty much everything that happened.” He caught Daniel and Peggy exchanging a skeptical look and frowned in confusion. “What?”

“You remember Angie, my old roommate from New York? Well, she’s friends with one of the secretaries who works downtown at the senator’s office and the other day, she telephoned to tell me all about the verbal altercation her friend witnessed between Senator Cooper and a rather irate federal agent,” Peggy explained with a knowing gleam in her brown eyes, continuing on as Jack began self-consciously rubbing at the back of his neck. “According to the secretary, the agent read Cooper the riot act for not giving proper credit to the team responsible for closing a major case over at the West Coast SSR; he was adamant that the case never would’ve been closed if not for the entire group of people he worked alongside.”

“Nah, it must’ve been some other federal agent, Peggy, ‘cause Thompson here’s never been very big on sharing credit…or being nice…”

Rolling his eyes as Daniel and Peggy exchanged amused grins, Jack ignored the heat rising in his face and replied, “You two’re hilarious, you know, you could give Crosby and Hope a run for their money. I told Cooper off ‘cause it was the right thing to do…and I thought it might make up for taking all the credit when we closed that Leviathan case back in New York.” He shifted awkwardly in his seat and shrugged. “What can I say? I was a real ass back then, but I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf.” His eyes flicked back over to (Y/N) and he couldn’t help but smile, knowing that the codebreaker had been a large part of what inspired him to become a better man. “A fresh start here in L.A. with (Y/N)’s all I’m lookin’ for.”

Daniel’s smile was full of warmth when Jack turned back to him and he leaned across the desk to offer him his hand. “Well, Agent Thompson, let me be the first to welcome you aboard the West Coast SSR.” Jack grinned and shook the chief’s outstretched hand. “And since there’s no way I’m gonna get either of you to focus on any work now, you and your new partner can go ahead and take the rest of the afternoon off.”

“Yes, you two deserve a fun evening out!” The happy expression on Peggy’s face was soon replaced with mischief as she arched a playful brow. “But not too much fun; it’s a work night, after all.”

Jack rolled his eyes as he got to his feet and jokingly retorted, “Yes, Ma.”

Bidding Daniel and Peggy goodbye, Jack left the office and paused for a moment to nervously fix his tie before making his way over to (Y/N)’s desk; the codebreaker, who was still typing away on her typewriter, looked up from her work and smiled as he leaned against the edge of the desk. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to calling you ‘Agent’ now instead of ‘Chief,’ won’t I?”

“C’mon, Specs, we both know that you’re just gonna keep calling me ‘Flyboy’ instead.” He chuckled when she gave him a noncommittal shrug. “But yeah, you’re lookin’ at the West Coast SSR’s newest field agent. And my interview went so well that Chief Sousa even partnered me with the branch’s top codebreaker, can you believe that?”

(Y/N) smiled in amusement at his reference to their contentious first meeting but played along, arching a curious brow and replying, “I take it that you’re fond of codebreakers.”

“Absolutely crazy about ‘em.”

“Even the ones who wear reading glasses?”

“They look cute with specs.”

“And the ones who don’t make very good spies?”

“Hey, nobody’s perfect.”

“How about the ones who’re messy and can’t keep anything clean?”

Jack winced in mock distaste. “Now that’s a deal-breaker.”

Laughing, (Y/N) took off her reading glasses and shook her head in mild exasperation. “You’re a jerk, Jack Thompson.”

“And you’re beautiful, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” His heart warmed at the flustered expression on her face as she began anxiously organizing her cluttered desk. “I’ve got even more good news; Sousa’s given the both of us the rest of the day off.”

She tucked several files into one of her desk drawers and closed it with a small chuckle. “Time off for good behavior?”

“Something like that.” Suddenly overcome with nervousness, Jack crossed his arms over his chest and cleared his throat before tentatively continuing. “Since we’ve both got a free afternoon, I was wondering if you’d…well, if you’d like to…to do something? With me?”

“I’d love to! What did you have in mind?”’

“Well, The Olympic’s still showing Miracle on 34th Street; I’ve heard it’s a pretty good flick and I know you’re a big Maureen O’Hara fan,” He reasoned, his calm exterior hiding the overwhelming sense of relief that washed over him when she accepted. “So, how ‘bout a movie and afterwards, milkshakes and fries at Lou’s?”

(Y/N)’s smile widened as she nodded, and the both of them went to fetch their hats and coats; while she was preoccupied with pinning her hat onto her hair, Jack quickly threw his fedora and coat on before grabbing her coat and holding it up for her to slip into, feeling very gentlemanly as she did so. The two of them left the bullpen and walked down the hallways of the West Coast SSR together, both of them occasionally glancing over at the other and smiling whenever they were caught staring. It wasn’t until Jack’s hand tentatively reached over and held hers that the unspoken tension finally came to a head; in an instant, he was being pulled into the nearest supply closet and his back hit the closed door as their lips met in a passionate kiss. Soft hands moved to cup his face and hold him against her while his own arms slipped into her unfastened coat and wrapped snugly around her waist, tugging her close as he lost himself in the sweetness of her lips.

The codebreaker was the first to break away, a little out of breath as she reached up and flicked on the light bulb hanging from the ceiling; her lips were swollen and her (Y/E/C) eyes were gleaming with happiness, a soft smile on her face as one of Jack’s hands reached up to caress her cheek. “Well, baby, that confirms it.”

“Confirms what, sweetheart?”

Jack grinned. “That I definitely made the right choice.” His fingers held her chin as he ducked back down, their lips meeting in a softer and more meaningful kiss; when they finally pulled themselves away from one another, they straightened their appearances before ducking back out of the supply closet and continuing down the halls, their smiles reaching their eyes as their joined hands swung between them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Lol I love seeing these two together, they deserve to be happy after everything they’ve gone through! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new one-shot. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0iKzLZlEK1rTaSIiW5zRlk?si=97af3c9ce3ff4b65

“Tales From The SSR” Masterlist

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up​​​​​ @fluffymadamina​​​​​ @remmyswritings​​​​​ @ourstarsailor​​​​​ @coffeeandcrimeshows​​​​​ @darkusangelus​​​​​ @josis-teacup​​​​​ @marvel-jackt-loki-buck​​​​​ @yeetyeetchickenmeat​​​​​ @sameoldbaby​​​​​ @theserenityspace​​​​​ @seeing-but-not-observing​​​​​ @supervoldejaygent​​​​​ @momc95​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​​ @kinda-c0nfused​​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​ @mads-weasley​​​​​​ @mostclevermiss​​

#tales from the ssr #jack thompson x reader #peggy carter x daniel sousa #agent carter #jack thompson #peggy carter #daniel sousa #rose roberts #marvel cinematic universe #strategic scientific reserve #specs and the flyboy

[slipper007]

This was your child.

Word Count: 1,448

Inspired by @icefire149 and @officialmisha 's tags on this post (thank you @featherasscas for motivating me to do this)

Also posted on my AO3

TW: Child Loss, grief and grieving

His body was heavy.

Castiel didn’t expect it, not when he’d scooped Jack up, held him like the child he was.

He had dropped his angel blade, left it behind in order to save Jack from the battle raging around them. He wouldn't leave him there, broken and burnt with his wings charred into the grass, a body so easily possessable by any one of the souls God had conjured. He could still smell the seared skin and ash. No, he would rather die than leave him there.

Arms full, Castiel had made a break for it, gotten all of them into a crypt not far from where God had abandoned them, but he couldn’t bring himself to put Jack down as the Winchesters fortified the door. With his powers, he should have been feather-light.

Castiel thought again of the scorched wings and choked back bile.

He was three. He’d only had three years when he should have had eons like Cas. Creatures like them were cursed in that way, to watch those they loved rise and fall and turn to dust, but they had each other. They should have had each other for the rest of time.

Instead, Jack was limp and soundless in his arms.

Castiel tried to tell himself Jack was asleep, the way humans had comforted themselves for millennia. Empty sockets told him otherwise, but he still laid him on the ground as carefully and gently as he could.

The Winchesters were trying to talk to him, but he was busy. Couldn’t they see that? Jack needed him.

He extended two fingers to the boy’s forehead and felt tendrils of grace try to heal him, just as he had tried when Chuck was smiting him. Maybe now, when he wasn’t contending with the power of a god, he could make it work. He still had power, enough power for this. He had promised Kelly, and Jack himself, that he would be there to protect him. He had signed away his happiness, any attempt at a future, to save this child. This couldn’t be the end.

Castiel’s grace flickered, and his eyes flicked up to Jack’s unchanged face.

Jack still had so much left to do; his story wasn’t over yet.

Castiel brushed the hair from his forehead and tried again, feeling the anguish building in his chest start to overflow.

Nothing was changing, nothing was healing, but a part of him was screaming in agony as it died.

Castiel tried one last desperate thing, reaching deep within himself and ripping a part out, trying to use the scraps of his grace to bring Jack back to life. He was a creature born of primordial energy, and his grace was the core of that, a beacon of life that could heal wounds or grow trees. Surely, when paired with his love, his despair, his sheer will, he could create life anew, bring back his son.

The white-blue glow surrounded them both, and Castiel felt it seeping out, more power than he had tried to use in years pounding in his chest like the heartbeat he wanted to bring back.

Jack stayed unmoving, body growing cold and pale.

It wasn’t enough.

There wasn’t enough power, no God to pray to, nothing he could do.

Jack was dead.

The door creaked and groaned and for once, Castiel welcomed the danger. He didn’t move from Jack’s side as the Winchesters called for him, begged him to help. The door fell with a crash.

The souls didn’t stand a chance.

Continue Reading

Castiel felt the burning, aching pain in his chest grow, and rather than force it down, try to keep channeling it into Jack, he let it out. His grace seized violently as he lashed out at them with his anguish, screaming. White light poured from his body, obliterating every soul it touched as the Winchesters dove for cover. He felt the ground beneath him quake and tremble as a chasm opened between him and the others, and parts of the floor gave out and crumbled. Bodies fell as the souls inside them were destroyed, billions upon billions turned back to the stardust that seeded creation.

All that stopped him from leveling it all, razing the field outside and destroying what was left of Chuck’s machinations, were the stone walls of the crypt around them.

If he destroyed the crypt, he would bury Jack.  

He couldn’t…

The souls gone, Castiel collapsed to his knees. He felt tears burning in his eyes, but tears didn’t soothe the throbbing loss in his chest, and tears wouldn’t bring Jack back. It didn’t stop them from raining down, his tears leaving trails in the dust that had fallen on Jack during it all before he wiped it away.

Castiel wanted nothing more than to join him on that floor.

Who will protect him, keep him safe?

A hand fell on his shoulder.

“Cas…”

“You killed him.”

Castiel hardly recognized the voice that spoke as his own, and apparently neither did the Winchesters.

“God—”

“God didn’t kill Jack, you did,” Castiel said again, feeling anger build in the new hole in his chest. “You held a gun to his head, betrayed him, locked him in a box—”

“He was dangerous, he killed—”

“It was an accident!” Castiel shouted. “He made a mistake!”

“He was soulless!”

“BECAUSE OF YOU!”

The Winchesters startled back as the words echoed, and Castiel felt the roof above them start to crumble. He forced the destruction down, tried to keep from burying his son.

“He burned off his soul saving us, trying to prove he could be useful even without his grace because you taught him he wasn’t! You taught him that the same way you taught me. All he wanted was your approval, to make things right, and you wouldn’t give him that!”

“I—”

“You both were like a father to him. He looked up to you.” Castiel turned his gaze to Dean alone, words cold and angry and burning. “He loved you. And I loved you. I loved you so much that I abandoned everything I ever knew. I took a leap of faith for you, and I suffered and lost more than you could ever imagine. And now you take Jack from me, too. He was three years old.”

For once, the Winchesters fell silent, but it did nothing for him. It wouldn't bring Jack back. He shucked off his trenchcoat and draped it carefully across Jack like a blanket before picking him up.

He was three.

He took Jack outside, feeling his grace spasm and hiccup as the grief grew. It threatened to tear him apart from the inside.

This was your child. I can’t imagine the pain.

Was this what he’d cursed Lily Sunder to a lifetime of?

“Cas,” Sam quietly tried, “He needs a funeral.”

“I’m not giving him a hunter’s funeral,” Castiel snapped, holding Jack even tighter. “Or a human one. He’s half angel, I’ll take care of it.”

Dean moved to speak, but Castiel gave him a withering glare before he could even get the words out.

He tried to set him in the passenger seat of his truck, but couldn’t force himself to. The whirlwind inside him was still thrashing and burning, the dead weight in his arms only making it more violent.

With care, he managed to keep Jack wrapped in his coat and look down to avoid seeing the burned remains of his eyes. When he moved to make his way to the driver’s side, he saw Jack’s wings and the hurricane brewing within him finally came out.

Castiel felt the earth quake and the sky bleed as he tore it all apart. Atom by atom, he reduced the world around him to nothing, collapsing the crypt to dust and cracking the earth as easily as one might swat a fly. The trees toppled like dominos, but he spared the gravestones around him, unable to destroy them.

The bodies underground were all someone’s child, too.

Something in him snapped, and the cosmic power drained away in mere moments. He was left standing at the center of a ruined earth, the last thing standing for miles, even as the Winchesters cautiously looked up from behind the stones, fear in their eyes at the destruction he had caused, of what he was, but he paid them no mind. He was too lost in feeling and he knew, even without thought, that he had fallen.

The pain grew worse, even more all-consuming as emotion overwhelmed him.

Only humans can feel real joy, but…also such profound pain.

He thought he had understood pain and loss before, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

///

Update: continues here

#this fucking hurt to write. #I don't know if i did the concept justice but we're gonna throw it out there anyway #slipper007writes #tw child loss #dadstiel #castiel #supernatural #spn fic #jack kline

[deannaroxannewrites]

Tropetember Day 4 - Rockstar / Actor / Model / Famous AU

The future is unwritten

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Rating: General Audiences

TW: Drinking/alcohol

AN: Day 4 of @tropetember. This has potential to be the start of a short series. Would anyone be interested in this playing out? (first date, meeting Jack, properly meeting the team, media finding out etc etc)

Life as an famous author can be lonely, but maybe a handsome stranger can turn your day around.

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 1.5k

Staring into a glass of whisky never solved any problems, but at least it passed the time.

When you’d started writing your first book, you never could have imagined how exhausting a promotional tour was. You very rarely had time to yourself, spent weeks at a time on the road and constantly had to be on your best behaviour. Not that you were exactly badly behaved but anything more than a glass of wine or two with dinner had your publicist cutting you off to “protect you image”. No matter how many times you assured her that your audience of young adults would likely not be surprised by an author having a couple of drinks at the bar, until the end of the tour, you were cut off.

You really missed having total control of your life.

And so, like a teenager sneaking out past curfew, you had waited for Denise to go back to her room to bed, before slipping out of your hotel room and down to the bar.

When booking your hotel, the publishing company had been all set to book you into opulent rooms around the country but you had convinced them that that would make you easier to find. Instead, you were booked in a nice hotel with good facilities, the sort of place businessmen would be happy to stay and meet clients for a drink downstairs. Lots of dark wood and leather chairs and large glass windows.

You’d stationed yourself on a comfy stool at the end of the bar, taking advantage of the window to watch the rainy New York street outside. It also allowed you a convenient view of the lobby. The good people watching spot allowed you to notice when a group of well dressed, if slightly rumpled, people wandering in, exhaustion pulling at their features.

One of the men, a tall handsome individual with dark hair and a stern expression, broke off from the group after a quick discussion and headed in your direction. He quickly gained the attention of the server and ran off his order - lots of alcohol and one coffee - before propping himself against the bar next to you.

You took a moment to study him. Up close, you could see the laughter lines in his face and warmth of his chocolate brown eyes. You also clocked the gun on his hip under the very nice suit jacket he was wearing.

“I can hear you thinking” he says, the smooth deep baritone jolting you from you staring. Rather than being ashamed you just smile. Who are you to turn down a chance to chat with a good-looking stranger? It's nice to act like a normal person for a change.

“That coffee you ordered is definitely for you then” you state. That surprises a laugh out of him. It’s a rich, warm sound and you savour it. He doesn’t look like a man who laughs often.

“You would be correct,” he agrees. ”Do you often spend your time staring at strangers?”

You smile at that and concede “only the handsome ones”.

The tips of his ears redden slightly but he manages to control the rest of his micro expressions. In the meantime, you sip at your whiskey.

Desperate to continue the conversation, you observe "I'd normally ask if you were on a trip for business or leisure but I think we've covered that."

He hums in agreement, taking your invitation to continue. "How about you?"

You wave the whisky glass at him. “The trip is for business, this however, is for pleasure.” You give him a cheeky grin and then sigh. “I’m just looking forward to being back home in DC next week. I hate being this close and yet not able to sleep in my own bed.”

“I’m the same. DC seems to be one of those places everyone complains about living there when they’re there, but loves when they can’t make it.”

Working under your assumption that he’s FBI, you presume he must work out of Quantico. What a stroke of luck chatting to someone who won’t be far away when you return home? You take a moment to assess your options and take a leap of faith. He doesn’t seem to know who you are and you’re enjoying the attention.

“Anyone waiting for you back home?”

He smirks at your extremely unsubtle comment, before allowing “just my little boy. He stays with his Aunt when I’m gone.”

Sadly, the bartender has managed to finally round up all of the drinks for his team. He pays quickly and then gives you a contemplative look. He seems to decide you're not a creep or serial killer or whatever else, and reaches into his pocket, withdrawing his card.

“If you’re around tomorrow and want to get a drink? Work permitting obviously.”

You feel a smile break out on your face.

“I’d love to.” You pocket the card before reaching out your hand. ”I’m Y/N.”

“Aaron” he responds with a quick grin, taking your hand and shaking firmly. “Hopefully, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a good evening. Don’t work too hard.”

And with that, he collects his drinks tray which is fully loaded and heads back to his group. You catch a couple of surprised expressions out of the corner of your eye and, as you stand up to head back up to your room, you notice the older gentleman pat him on the back before they all settle into looking through files.

Huh, apparently picking up strangers in bars was a rare occurrence for him. You wouldn't have guessed. He seemed pretty in practice from how he was talking to you.

Now, best sneak back upstairs and get some sleep.

------

It was nearly 3pm, meaning you only had an hour left of book signing. Sadly there had been some sort of arrest made across the street though which had put a bit of a damper on the event, reducing the amount of foot traffic into the store.

From your vantage point, you could see FBI and police personnel wandering around and looking busy and had been reduced to people watching to pass the time. You were startled out of your daze by a familiar voice.

"When our tech analyst demanded I stop by to get a copy of your book autographed for her, I had assumed the name was a coincidence."

You cringe. Oops. Busted.

"Hi Aaron," you say meekly. It's only as you glance up that you see he's smiling that you relax a little.

"Aren't you supposed to be outside tidying up your mess?" You question, taking the book off him with one hand and waving your other at the street.

"I've done most of my work for now. As we're consulting, we are not responsible for tidying up."

You hum in acknowledgement before asking who the book is for and signing the copy with a personalised message. You've never been one to just sign and hand back. These people are supporting you, it's the least you can do.

"No drink tonight then? I assume you'll be back to DC?"

"Sadly."

You both glance at each other, trying to gauge what to do next. You're grateful he takes the plunge.

"We could do something when you're back in DC? I can be pretty busy with work and Jack, my son, is my priority but I can try to fit something in? If you want?"

It's an interesting thing, seeing a calm and confident man like Aaron turn into a rambling mess. You take it as a compliment.

"Of course. I understand having a busy life. One of the benefits to being a writer is setting my own schedule.” You glance around the shop. “When I'm not doing promotion obviously. We can make something work."

You're rewarded with a grin and it makes your heart flutter.

"The main question is, are you sure you want to? I'm not, like, mega famous, but it can be a lot sometimes."

He doesn't even stop to think before he answers.

"I'd regret it if I didn't. And if it doesn't work, it doesn't work. We take a step back. At the very least, I'd like to get know you"

That sentence settles your nerves. You're sure you look like a maniac with the smile that's currently plastered across your phase.

"Can I call you tonight? Since I can't make drinks?"

You nod, but notice there are a few people waiting to meet you. Sigh, best wrap it up for now.

"Of course, I'll text you and we can sort out a time."

He nods, also noticing your fans and, before he can lose his nerve, leans down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You say your goodbyes and he heads back outside with book in hand, apparently impervious to the whispers.

And if your publicist comments that you don't stop smiling for the rest of the day? That's not really any of her business, is it?

#tropetember #fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #meet cute #famous AU #Author AU #criminal minds

[manndo]

i see you [din djarin x reader]

gif credit

pairing[s]: din djarin (the mandalorian) x gn!reader (no descriptors, no y/n)

warning[s]: slight angst, fluff, kissing, mentions of arousal (barley there & nothing really descriptive) and ridiculously canon divergent (see notes).

word count: 4.0k

prompt[s]: from this list, based off the prompt ‘overhearing they have feelings for you’

summary: you just wanted to tell the child a bedtime story, and apparently, you had something you needed to get off your chest. but you weren’t aware you had an audience besides the child.

author’s notes: alright, for the last day of 2020 (i’m still in 2020 over here, unfortunately), i’ve decided to take a leap of faith and post my first mandalorian fic! i started writing this before episode 13 of season 2, before we learned the child’s name and way before the separation (i am still recovering from the emotional strain of this ending). and obviously, i didn’t finish it until now -- almost two weeks after the last episode. so, as i mentioned in my warnings, this is canon divergent -- basically anything from episode 13 to 16 did not happen in this fic. so, this means that grogu is referred to as the child/the little one/the kid in this fic. in the future, i am hoping to write more canon friendly fics, but who knows?? the season finale was bittersweet and honestly?? i just want my dad/son duo back together. 😢but anyway! any and all mistakes are my own. please feel free to comment/like/reblog, whatever you see fit. enjoy! ❤️and goodbye 2020, hello 2021! 🍻

You were tinkering with a malfunctioning blaster down in the hull when you heard him. At first, the cry was soft, barely there — perhaps Mando had said or done something to irritated him while they sat in the cockpit together. However, after another few moments, the cries grew louder and longer. Carefully, you set the blaster aside, and wiped your hands on the cloth next to you before pushing yourself off from your seated position on Mando’s bunk. Within seconds, you were climbing the ladder and entering the cockpit to find Mando standing from his seat, holding the child away from him as the child wailed. Immediately, Mando lifted his head toward you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching him?” he asked, a hint of irritation in his modulated voice. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could imagine the glare he was giving you.

You sighed heavily, shaking your head, and took two steps forward to grab the child from Mando’s outstretched arms. Unfortunately, the child did not stop his crying. You tucked him against you. “Technically, yes. That’s what you hired me for, but you know this little one has his ways of sneaking around,” you muttered, reaching out to grab the little one’s tiny hand. Even through his wailing, the little one’s finger immediately wrapped around your thumb. You hummed soothingly and began to gently bounce him, keeping your eyes trained on him. “And, it wasn’t like you were complaining ten minutes ago when he was being a perfect little angel,” you mumbled, rubbing your thumb gently over the little one’s finger and looked up to Mando. Mando snorted, but said nothing as he sat himself back down in the pilot’s chair, and turned himself away from you. You knew he didn’t need to be there — the Crest was in hyperdrive and most likely on autopilot — but, you found he preferred it to other parts of the ship. Then again, when you’re always on guard like him, well, it made sense to be in the cockpit.

“He’s probably just tired, Mando,” you said, glancing away from him and back to the child, who was, thank the Maker, not wailing anymore. However, he was still crying, still taking in big breaths and looking at you with wide, glassy eyes. “Just needs a little nap. Ain’t that right, little one?” The child gave you a sniffle, and hung his head. “Come on,” you said quietly, giving the child’s finger a little squeeze, “let’s get you tucked in.”

You turned on your heel, and carefully made your way down to the hull once more, all the while whispering comforting words to the child in hopes to quell his cries. It seemed to work — for the most part. He still seemed upset, even if he wasn’t really crying anymore. More like, sniffles and whines. But, he was still restless against you. Even if he was overtired, it was clear he wasn’t too keen on actually being put down because the moment you had set him into the makeshift, hanging bed that Mando had crafted for him, he tried to pull himself out. “Ah, ah, little one, don’t you even think about it,” you reprimanded him softly, pushing him gently back down into the swinging bed. He let a small whine in disagreement, but didn’t try moving again.

“Maybe I should tell you a story,” you said, your voice low, calm. He blinked at you, his eyes still looking a little watery, and gave you another small whine. You began to rock the bed. “You know, I don’t think I’ve really told you any stories since I came on this ship,” you said, reaching up and running a finger over his ear, from base to tip. He made a small coo of happiness, and you smiled. “Granted, it hasn’t been that long since your dad hired me, has it?” You’d only been traveling with them for six months, give or take. You still sometimes had to, metaphorically, pinch yourself that this was your life now — galavanting around the galaxy with a Mandalorian and his charge.

You felt a small push against your finger, which had been resting on the tip of the child’s ear, followed by a small whine. You let out a short chuckle, and moved your finger, running it over his ear again. He leaned into the touch. “You know, the first time I saw you and your dad, I didn’t know what to think. I’d never met a Mandalorian before, but I knew of them, knew the stories of them. Who hadn’t?” You moved your hand from running to over his ear, to the top of his head. He cooed softy, eyes fluttering closed. “But, what surprised me the most was you, little one. Not because I had never seen creature like you. No, that wasn’t it. It was because you were with him. A Mandalorian and a child,” you whispered, noticing that the little one’s eyes were only half open now. You gave the top of his head a small scratch, and his eyes closed completely. “Even if you are older than both of us,” you added, a small chuckle escaping your lips as his eyes opened again, a bit slower than last time.

“It’s funny,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes trained on him. You watched as he snuggled himself a little deeper into his bed. “I never would have thought that one minute, I’d be fixing a blaster your dad needed repaired, then the next being on his ship, taking care of you.” A brief pause. “You know, he saved me, little one?” You felt a lump form in your throat, and you swallowed it. “Life hadn’t been easy when you two came around. Sure, I had a roof over my head and enough credits to keep me fed. But, it had been a lonely life.”

You took a deep breath. “My parents had been gone for a few years, and I had no siblings to seek comfort in. I worked for a nasty man, who liked to belittle me every chance he got, even if I was a better technician than he was. I had a few acquaintances, a few people I’d chat with every once in a while, maybe grab a drink with them at a cantina, but I didn’t have any real friends,” you paused. “Well, I did. At one point. But, things happen.” A heavy, dejected sigh escaped your lips. “People change. Life changes.” Absentmindedly, you ran your finger down the child’s cheek. His eyes were now half-open, the child hell bent on staying awake. Stubborn, like his father for sure. “But, now I’m here. And, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” You pursed your lips in thought. “Well, it would be nice to have a larger, more comfortable bed. But, then I wouldn’t have you, and I wouldn’t have your dad.” The little one cooed quietly, and you chuckled pulling your finger from his cheek.

You became silent then, let yourself just watch the little one. He was settling nicely into his bed, looking more relaxed, his eyes staying closed. It should have only been a few more moments, and he’d be asleep. Just a few more moments and he’d be resting peacefully, and you could go back to working on that blaster. Just a few more minutes.

“I love him, you know,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. It was only when you heard the little one coo that you realized that you’d said that out loud. Your eyes widened as you took in the little one, his own eyes now open once more. He was looking at you, head titled slightly, big brown eyes focused on you. He blinked once, twice as if he was waiting for you to elaborate.

Fuck, you hadn’t planned to say that out loud. But you had — to the little one, no less. Sure, he couldn’t tell Mando what you’d said, so that was an advantage. But, Maker, what were you thinking?

You had only just admitted to yourself you were in love with the Mandalorian. You had spent weeks denying your feelings. After all, you hadn’t known each other long, there was no way you were actually in love with him. It had to be, you figured, because of your living situation — you two were in constant contact with each other, barely any room for privacy or time alone. He was the only person you could hold a full conversation with (not that you didn’t have conversations with the child, but it was very one-sided). So, maybe, it was just the situation. It had to be. But, as the days passed by, you realized that wasn’t the case. You had fallen for the Mandalorian. You were in love with him. You were in love with Mando.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you closed your eyes, and let your head fall into your hands. “You weren’t supposed to hear that, little one,” you said, the words slightly mumbled against your palms. “Nobody was supposed to hear that. And, especially not your dad — not that I don’t want him to know, I do. But, we haven’t been together long — in the sense of me being on the ship, you know — and I fear it will make him distant again. He was so distant when I first came aboard, but now.” You let out another heavy sigh, and move your hands away from your face to glance up at the little one. He has pulled himself up to look over the edge of his makeshift bed, his tired eyes looking down at you. There is a sad look up on his face, his large eyes searching yours. “I don’t know exactly how he feels, little one. But, I’ve seen his heart. You’ve seen his heart.” You paused and took a breath. “It’s in the little things. The way he sits with you when he flies. How he tries to teach you things — even if they backfire in his face,” you said, and a smile crossed your lips. The child gave a small tired little giggle. “Making this bed for you,” you said softly, reaching up and running your fingers over the material. “Making your little pouch. All those things, and more, show me his heart, show us his heart.” You leaned forward and pressed your forehead gently against the child’s. “He would do anything to keep you safe, little one. Anything. And that, makes him a good man.” The child let out a soft sound, and you pulled away from him, a soft smile on your lips.

There was a brief silence that settled between you. You let it hang in the air for a brief moment before speaking again. “Alright, come on, you need to go to sleep now. Apparently, trying to tell you a bedtime story is not the way I should go,” you said with a small chuckle. The child gave a small whine. “Don’t try and fight with me. We both know you’re tired. So come on, close those big, beautiful eyes,” you said, your voice dropping in volume. His eyes fluttered closed, and you reached out your fingers, letting it brush against his tiny hand. “There you go,” you muttered, continuing to brush his little hand with your finger in a soothing gesture. His eyes stayed closed, and his body seemed to relax into his bed. Another few moments, and his breathing had evened out, and you knew he was finally asleep. You let out a small sigh of relief. “Sleep well, little one,” you whispered, and with on final brush to his hand, you stood up from the bunk. You pressed the switch, shutting the bunks door with a small clink. You had barely turned away from the door when you heard a loud thunk, and found yourself coming face to face with Mando.

“Maker!” you yelped, practically jumping out of your skin, hand slapping against your chest. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribcage as you looked at Mando with wide eyes. “Mando,” you said, voice slightly out breath as you pressed your hand a little harder to your chest, physically and mentally willing your heart to slow down. “You can’t — fuck, you scared me. You’re lucky I closed the damn door before you did that. What if he’d woken up? I had a devil of a time getting him to sleep, you know,” you muttered, hand falling from your chest and back to your side.

“Did you now?” he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his tinny voice. You furrowed your brow, as he took another step closer to you, his beskar helmet only a few inches away from your face. He titled his helmet, and you could swear, if he didn’t have it on, there would be a smirk on his face. You felt a twinge of panic fill your face — had he, had he heard you? You mentally shook your head of that thought. You were being paranoid.

“I did,” you huffed as you turned away from him, taking a step toward where you had left the malfunctioning blaster.

“Maybe if you hadn’t talked so much,” he muttered, and you felt your entire body freeze, “he might have fallen asleep faster.”

It felt like you couldn’t breathe. Blood was rushing in your ears. Maker, he heard you. He heard you blabbing your feelings, you feelings for him, to the little one. The quick landing, the sarcasm you had heard— it all made sense. He had been there, above the two of you, listening, hearing every word you said. Your confession. You felt yourself begin to get warm with embarrassment, and you willed your body to move. You wanted to run, but where could you run? You were on a ship, in the middle of space — there was no where to go. Nowhere to hide.

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breathe before you slowly turned back to face Mando. You didn’t have to see his eyes to know he was staring at you, but Maker, did you wish you could see them. Wish you could see his face. Maybe then you could tell what he was thinking. Did he feel something too? Or, was he disgusted at the thought of you having feelings? Was he about to dismiss your feelings, maybe even drop you off at the next inhabited planet, leaving you there. Leaving you alone, again. No Mando, no kid. You swallowed that fear, those thoughts. “Listen, Mando, I—”

“Close your eyes.”

You blinked in confusion. “W—what?

“Do you trust me?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Then, close your eyes. And, promise me, you won’t open them.” You blinked, too stunned at his request to answer immediately. His gloved hand wrapped around your wrist, a barely there touched. “Promise me.” It should have been a demand, but it came out more as a desperate plea.

You looked down at the hand gently holding your wrist, then back at the beskar helmet in front of you. “Yea,” you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper, “I promise. I promise,” you repeated. There was a moment of stillness where neither of you moved before you took a slow, deep breath and let your eyes fall closed.

You felt Mando let go of your wrist before you heard a clicking sound, followed by a soft hiss. It was followed by a loud clink of metal against the floor of the ship, near your feet, you thought. Then, there was a gloved hand on your cheek, the fabric rough against your skin. You felt the brush of his thumb over your cheek, and your breath hitched in your throat. “Mando, what are—”

The end of your question was gently swallowed by his lips.

Maker, you had not expected this. Immediately, you had wanted to open your eyes, because you weren’t sure this was real. Was he — was Mando really kissing you? But, he was kissing you. His soft lips were pressed against yours, not bruising, but not gentle either, and it didn’t take long before you felt his tongue swipe across the seam of your lips, seeking permission. You parted your lips with ease.  

At the first slide of his tongue against yours, a small whimper escaped your lips, your hand darting out as you blindly grabbed at his shoulder. You fisted as much of the material of his undershirt in your hand while the other part pressed against the cool beskar, and tugged, pulling him flush against you. You felt, more than heard, him groan when your bodies met, his hand tightening ever so slightly on your jaw while his other arm wrapped around your middle, holding you against him. You could feel warmth spreading in your limbs, and an excitement you hadn’t felt in a long time filling your veins and culminating between your legs.

You would have kept kissing him, would have let yourself suffocate in his kisses, but a few seconds later, you felt him begin to pull away. Before his lips could leave yours completely, you pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, giving it a quick nip. And, fuck, the sound that came out of his mouth. You felt another spike of arousal course through you, and you almost, almost opened your eyes. But, you promised you wouldn’t, and you knew what it meant if you did. So, you forced yourself to keep them closed as you tried to regain control of yourself, your hand still clutching his shoulder.

There’s a moment where the two of you stand there, your breath mingling with one another as you both tried to calm your racing hearts. But, it is brief, and before you know it, the hand that was resting on your cheek falls, and the arm around your waist loosens and you feel him step away. Immediately, you want to pull him back to you, bring his lips back to yours. But, you don’t. You’re frozen once more — in fear, in shock, in elation, you’re not quite sure.

You took a shuddering breath. “Mando—”

“Din,” you hear him say, and it sounds pure, smooth. It’s then you realize the helmet is still off. You can’t help the butterflies that form in your stomach at the sound of his unmodulated voice. His voice. It sounds like liquid gold to your ears. But then ,you hear the sounds you heard before he kissed you, the click and hiss, of the helmet falling back into place.

You wait a beat before you let your eyes flutter open, and you come face to face with the beskar helmet once more.

“Din Djarin,” he repeated, and reached out, brushing one of his gloved fingers down your cheek, over your jaw, and stopping at the nape of your neck. “My name is Din Djarin.”

His finger began to draw an absentminded pattern across your shoulder. You could tell by the tilt of his head that his eyes were focused on that finger. That finger that kept moving as the moments ticked by, never stopping, never making any sense against your skin. For the first time since you’d met him, you could tell he was nervous.

You knew he didn’t tell his name to anyone. You had asked when you’d met him what his name was. He had told you to call him Mando. You had thought it odd, but did not think it was your place to push him (you had only just met him, after all). So, you called him Mando, as did everyone else you had come in contact with. But, four months later, you decided to finally push the subject. He told you that he had not used his birth name since he was a child, since he was sworn into the Creed. There were only a few who knew name, and only due to an extenuating circumstance, he had said, making it clear he did not tell anyone. Nobody should have known his name — and from what you could tell, he had no plans of telling any one in the future.

But, here he was, standing in front of you, telling you his name. Willingly giving you this piece of information about himself. You knew he couldn’t show you his face — not yet, not now — but he could give you this. He could give you this part of himself. If the kiss wasn’t enough for you to know that he felt something for you, this sealed the deal. It wasn’t an outright “I love you”, but to you, it was something more, something deeper than that. This was him trusting you, him giving you a part of himself. It filled your heart with joy.

“Din,” you whispered, letting the name roll of your tongue, and filling the space around you. His finger had stopped its’ random movements, and his head tilted up, and you were face to face with the all too familiar beskar helmet. You smiled softly and wondered if he was smiling behind it too. You reached out, and let your fingertips dance over the cool metal. “Din Djarin,” you said, letting yourself try out his full name. 

It was beautiful. It was him.

“It suits you,” you said, resting your palm against the side of his helmet. “I love it.”

Din let out a small, breathy, modulated chuckle. “You do?”

You nodded. “I do, cause it’s you.” You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against the cool metal of his helmet, your eyes fall closed. “And, I love you, Din Djarin,” you whispered softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. You wished you could have seen his face, but instead, you heard an intake of breath before you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, hand splayed over your hip. His gloved fingers pressed into your hip bone.

“You mean that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hummed and nodded, letting your free hand fall onto his chest, right over his heart. You couldn’t feel his heart under the beskar chest plate, but you imagined it was beating rapidly, just like yours. “I do.” Perhaps, it was too early to say such things, to declare that you loved him. Most people might think you were crazy, and maybe you were, but that didn’t matter. You loved him — you loved Din.

“Even without,” he paused, and you heard him take a breath. You let your eyes fuller open, and you pulled back a hair, just enough to be able to take him in. He didn’t have to finish his sentence for you to know what he was talking about — even without seeing his face.

“Hey,” you said softly, making sure his he was paying attention to you. “I don’t need to see your face.”

You heard a small, disbelieving chuckle. “Don’t need to see my face, eh?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’. You tilted your head in thought. “Well, I mean, do I want to see your face? Absolutely.” You moved your fingers across the cheek of his helmet, to the visor, letting it trace the T-shape. “I want to see the color of your eyes, your nose, your mouth. The wrinkles and lines on your face. All of it.” You let your finger come to rest at the bottom of his helmet, just on the rim. You ran your finger over the smooth metal. “But, I know what that means for you, and I’m willing to wait for that. Your face is your face, and I’m sure it is a handsome face.” Another small chuckle escaped Din’s lips. “But, I don’t need to see it to know what I feel in my heart, Din.”

“You don’t?” He sounded surprised,

You shook your head. “I don’t. Because, I’ve seen you, Din Djarin,” you said, your voice filled with conviction as you looked at him straight on, right where his eyes would be behind that beskar helmet. “I’ve seen you.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin imagine #din djarin imagines #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian imagines #my writing