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onlyseokmins · 17 days

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ash and cinders • l.s.m.

Pairing: lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), angst, royalty!au, fantasy!au, gods/goddesses!au Warnings: magic, mentions of blood, war, cruelty, tyranny - all that good stuff, mentions of religion (au-specific), violence (i.e. suggestion of murder), (death) threats, and possible gaslighting 💃🏻 which just means a minor power play between them at first okay 😬 i promise it's not that bad lmao i'm just paranoid, lots of making out, oral (fem. receiving), lil bit of temp play tbh, little bit of choking, uh I wrote this so long ago and just finished it so lmk if i forgot anything?? it's just basically me attempting to write prettily uwu WC: 4.24k A/N: soooo, this has been rotting in my drafts FOREVER!!! but yeah seokmin is my most darling, favorite boy i've ever stanned anyways ofc i couldn't help but use his elle magazine photos (yes that's how long this has been ROTTING) ahhhhh - ahem anyways this goes hand-in-hand with Mischief Maker so definitely recommend checking that one out too! heheh <3

He only stayed during the night.

When the blanket of darkness covered even the moon with a hazy layer of clouds, leaving tiny twinkling stars for a traveler’s guide. The fire once dancing in the hearth dwindled down to scarlet embers barely emitting enough heat to fill the large quarters.

Not that it mattered.

Even as you lay naked amidst the silken sheets strewn upon the grand bed, the thought of your lover’s return alone was enough to engulf your body in a flame of burning anticipation that settles and simmers between your legs.

He had been gone far too long. A lengthy patrol around the surrounding territories had taken him away from your embrace. Although every morning the sun’s rays tickled your face as a sweet greeting and bathed you in a radiant light through the day, nights without him were by far the worst.

Cold.

Lonely.

Dark.

On usual accounts, it was a grievous crime to keep the queen waiting. But you would forgive him for anything, wouldn’t you? It’s exemplified in the way he bursts through the doors without so much as a courteous knock that even your most trusted servants must abide by, water droplets dripping from his auburn bangs.

Despite the eagerness to see you as soon as possible, he refused to step foot into your chambers when reeking of blood after fierce combat and soiled with dirt from travel. You always protested. The gilded throne you reigned from, the heavy crown upon your head, and even the bed you shared — all were built upon those very foundations. But your lover insisted on only showcasing the glorious side of things to you.

The gold.

The diamonds.

The luxuries.

All which adorned you by day. Glowing, glistening, and shining. Gems and jewels, fabrics woven from the highest quality quickly reduced to layers that only became a hindrance once it came time for his descent upon you. For you were absolutely beautiful clothed — this he very well knew — but when your whole body was bared naked for him and him alone? You were truly the definition of divine.

Those who dared to speak ill of you tried to foster ridiculous claims. Critical of the wealth in your possession. Mocked what they presumed was a lack of ambition. Wailed that you were a witch. A young monarch on an undeniable downfall to tyranny, one that would lead them all to hellfire and ruin.

Anything to validate that you were not worthy of the royal seal emblazoned across the lands in honor of a valiant leader with a royal bloodline still running through your veins.

Hypocrisy at its finest when you were the reason that they were bestowed or able to retain property linked to their names, money in their pockets, and a legacy to live by under your prosperous reign. Arrogant to cast down the very thing that elevated them to their current standing. But their greed would eventually come back to bite them. One day.

Even the religious sect whispered lowly, hidden in the shadows of the grand temples. Doubts that the king actually held a shred of affection for his partner — if the seldom visits seen visiting your chambers only when night falls were of any substantial evidence to go by. That he only lay with you out of duty, shackled and bound to an imposter who was never a faithful servant to the gods like they were.

Because not one of them truly believed that a god could ever favor, let alone love, a human.

You knew you were a savior to as many as you were also an enemy. A hindrance and a threat. A bold refusal to control or be controlled. There was nothing more to do other than lead your people as fairly as you judged.

All the preposterous assumptions infuriated him — your devoted knight, unorthodox husband, and scandalous lover. But he manages to temper his fiery rage out of respect for you. Behind your ruthless, steely intent is a righteous and kind heart that always calls out for him, now fully vocalized and embellished by the sweet voice he's missed hearing dearly.

“Seokmin,” you murmur, grasping his warm hand once he's within reach.

An entity of many epithets with an existence worth a millennium beyond comprehension and full of worship. Yet his favorite phonetic combination he'd ever heard was the one that fell breathlessly from your lips. The closest the human tongue could get to a god’s true name. And his second favorite would be yours, the syllables rumbling in his chest like a song and you smiled in contentment.

He was back, he was home, and he was yours.

Even in the darkness, Seokmin glowed. The ethereal radiance surrounding the broad expanse of sinewy muscles easily proved his lofty status as the great god of the sun. But it was also his eyes, flickering with the unmistakable presence as one of many deities. The kind of power that has managed to refrain from turning you into ash and cinders.

Whether it's attributed to your resilience, a ruler born to stand out and lead, or an entirely different reason — or a mixture of all — Seokmin isn't really sure. He's not the first to appear in a human vessel nor the last, with at least twelve of his known brothers wandering the mortal world for various reasons.

He wonders if he's the first to bow his head willingly, though, holding back his more devious and destructive tendencies. To pay back tenfold the worship he's received since the beginning of time all to you — a mere human — yet nonetheless, his queen.

The event of swearing his undying fealty feels like it was yesterday. For a being that persists forever, it may as well have been that short ago. Every memory he etches and sears into his mind for eternity consists of you, and only you.

How could he forget? How was he supposed to bury away the confident smirk that graced your lovely lips? Would he ever not recall the first time he bent the knee in such desperation? Not for a trick or as a dark seduction that tumbles into a dreadful demise, a conquest for carnage, and an abuse of his powers. But instead for the good of humanity — however short of an era it may be.

And maybe… for more. One that his heart fears to admit, for it does not beat within his chest, but in a plane beyond the reach of mortals.

"Would you kill for me?"

"For you, anything," the god affirms. "I have laid waste to kingdoms, countries, empires, and even continents themselves. There is nothing I'm incapable of."

"And if I asked you to behead the entire entourage that has traveled with you?"

"… If it is what you will, then it is simply my command to follow. For you, I am a lone knight at your disposal."

Silken skirts flare out as does your anger when you turn away from the large windows in the tower's tiny excuse of a throne room — hardly fit for the heir — showcasing a brief flash of the lethal dagger strapped to your thigh. "Do you wish for my downfall before I've even risen to the throne? You expect me to be a tyrant, despised by the people I am meant to save? To lead?"

"Do you think I, a god, care what thoughts others conjure up in their silly little minds? I am to act on your behalf, get my hands dirty in lieu of you. No matter how morbid your desires may be."

Stepping closer, you lift his chin with the tip of a dull sword intended to be ornamental. But it may be even deadlier than the one hung at his side, metaphorically sharpened and honed by a rebel princess's innate rage.

His little show of bowing means little with the way he stares straight at you without a shred of respect in those galaxy-filled irises. However, it is the mighty sun god who is taken aback by the hellfire burning in your gaze, hungry and powerful enough to rival his own as you scoff.

"I will show you what kind of queen this land needs, the methods we will follow, and the morals I wish to uphold. You will learn in order to understand them and enforce my will. Not only to help guide the vision I desire but to keep me accountable lest I stray. A critical misstep such as that is when I'll ask you to cut me down. Will you swear to do that for me?"

"… You dare question a god of what he can do? Your tiny, impudent human mind couldn't fathom a sliver of my capability."

"I dare to question what you can't or won't do."

"I told you, there is not a thing beyond my realm of —"

"Leave."

"… Your Highness?"

Painted lips curl in a snarl at the first address of your proper title since his arrival. "Begone, I said! Return when you feel like acting like the god you are, not simply a tool to be harnessed and used at will. Until then, I have no need for you."

Seokmin's jaw drops as you seat yourself back on the throne with a sneer and flick of your wrist for the guard to usher him out.

A challenge.

He's been abandoned many times. Discarded and tossed to the side once his usefulness has been expended. He's left before betrayal can even be thought of — for no one points a blade at a god's back — but never has he been rejected.

It was only the beginning of how you would become many of his 'firsts' and all of his 'lasts'.

Seokmin is lost deep in the memory even with the feeling of your lips curling in a gentle smile against his — a stark contrast to your initial meeting. A nail grazes his chin, digging lightly into the skin to fully bring the god back to the present.

You'd be offended by the habitual spacing out if he hadn't admitted to only getting lost in thoughts of you. Something he'd picked up during the routine patrols away. Though you strive to bring the god out of dwelling in the past when you're sitting right in front of him — the present — and deepen the kiss.

Yet he pulls away to tilt his head. "Do you remember what you offered to me?"

"Have I not offered you my all, my king?"

Charcoal lying dormant in the hearth flares back to life, emitting playful sparks when he chuckles. "After I returned to pledge my loyalty to you."

"Ah, even though I had you wait outside the gates for five days."

"Unfathomable for a god to hang around at the whim of a meager human, isn't it?"

"Meager?"

"To me? Yes."

His warm exhale of amusement feels just like the breeze that fondly brushes your cheeks every morning despite the eternal humidity. It may very well be him because no matter how far away physically from you he is, Seokmin's essence radiates in every sunray that stretches across the grand skies and below.

He is everywhere and everything all the time. But he is here with you tonight once again, kissing the palm you'd placed on his cheek. With mischief flickering like a teasing flame in his eyes, the god brings your hand to his throat, encouraging you to splay your fingers across his Adam's apple.

You free yourself from his light grasp to run them ticklishly up and down the bumps of his vocal cords. The movements of swallowing ripples beneath the light scratch of your nails until he halts you by replacing a veined hand over yours and murmurs, "Squeeze."

"Ah — but I…"

He repeats it again louder when you fail to do as asked, not even daring to move a muscle. Simply staring in almost awe-filled hesitation until he guides you to tentatively do exactly as he states, "You would have done anything to strangle me back then, what has changed?"

"… You know what."

"Tell me," he says it like it's a command, eyes brightening and swirling with an authoritative amber hue though it's all in jest. "Tell me what it is, my queen."

Never one to be deterred, only Seokmin could render you motionless for so long. You do as you're instructed, the gentle pressure applied by your hand around his throat causes auburn eyelashes to flutter. The slight restriction to an airflow that isn't all that necessary for a god's survival has his eyes rolling back before they re-focus on you, half-hidden by hooded eyelids.

"Love," you murmur. For it is the answer to everything, is it not?

"Love," is echoed with a resounding voice that doesn't fully come from the tongue of the man beneath you, but bellows out from an otherworldly essence that surrounds the entire world and beyond. And at the same time, he speaks it so fondly because ultimately, he's addressing it as a title for you.

The god of the sun, as immortal as he might be, has died before. Mortal vessels manage to persevere for a fixed number of years and a feeble human body can only endure so much wear and tear. Yet Seokmin's soul still shines steadily onwards despite the memory of death over and over again lingering… and he unsurprisingly realizes that he wouldn't mind dying like this — by your hand.

Was that love?

But the amount of power, energy, and time, along with the unpredictable wiles of the creator would never guarantee him returning to you. Preservation of this human shell was of the utmost importance, the first time he's ever handled a vessel with care before.

Perhaps that was love.

Rather than be swept up in unpleasantries, he entertains the amusing thought of how much fragility you exercise with him. Having already released your grip far too quickly and instead, fiddle with the untied laces on his loose shirt.

"Love," he repeats, this time as a call in a raspy drawl of his own voice.

"Hm. Or maybe it was… pity."

An eyebrow raises and the corners of Seokmin's mouth twitch upward. "Only my queen would dare to pity a god."

"It was for what you were. And who you weren't. I despise those uppity, repetitive displays of unwavering loyalty that either party can easily discard."

"Like the former king's imperial court."

"Yes."

Your angered hiss is exactly the same as the first time you informed him of your plans to take down your father and his cult. The disgust and rage have barely ebbed even after all the progress made for a better future and as many years that have passed.

Seokmin scans your expressions. He's always admired your spitfire that could rival his own flames. But in times when it burns long enough to possibly exhaust or hurt you, he worries. You're strong — he knows that — so many times he simply becomes the safe space where you can seethe aloud without interruption.

"Would you rather grow dull and be poisoned because someone is not even worth keeping an eye on or the thrill of unpredictability? A constant sword dance that keeps each other on their toes, never deviating gazes from one another."

He smirks. "That sounds familiar."

You think back to earlier days with him. A stubborn royal and an even more stubborn deity. When did the challenging, pointed glares at one another change to simmering looks of desire?

Instead of your swords tangling together in an angry clash over a small matter, it was your tongues after a heated sparring session. How condescension switched to respect to something more passionate… more primal… more intimate.

"Perhaps so. But look at you now — look at how you shine."

His skin indeed glows a bit brighter as he melts further into the soft touch of your palm returning to his cheek. Thumb tracing constellations between the pair of moles on his cheek while your other finger follows the nearly invisible scar below his eye.

"Little blemishes," he had once told you, "even the body of a god bears its flaws after fighting on a battlefield."

You thought they only made him all the more perfect.

"And look at how I've fallen."

As if to demonstrate his murmured words, Seokmin moves at the speed of light — his normal pace — to lie on his back, umber strands of hair spread out like flames of fire against the grandiose bed's silken sheets.

Somehow, he'd positioned you on top of him. Much accustomed to the tiny displays of omnipotence here and there, you remain unbothered. Affectionately, you brush back his bangs. Fiery wisps of hair that seemingly move on their own accord with the amount of power that ripples through their thin fibers.

He might just be the most powerful among his fellow deities and you could wield all of that as your own because he sits obediently in the palm of your hand. Lays dociley among your silken sheets. What he's trying to prove to you — the hold you have over him — immediately enthralled under your spell as you play with his locks and softly whisper, "You're Seokmin. My Seokmin."

Despite your bare chest quite literally in his face, the god waits. Fully clothed in soft linens where he can feel every tempting pulse thundering in your precious mortal body on top of his.

And still, he waits.

His hands don't even reach out as you unlace his shirt. Though he has wrecked and ruined your body in a thrillingly sensual, blistering, and passionate heat of love-making before, tonight he gives himself over to you. Vulnerable and all yours for the taking, watching with faint amusement as you impatiently urge him to shed the rest of his garments.

"My queen."

"My king."

"There is no rush. We have all of eternity."

"Do we?" you breathe out and look him in the eyes as your fingers dance along his inner thigh. "Or is it only you, divine ruler of the everlasting dawn and never-ending night?"

"My graceful moon," Seokmin sighs and distracts you from grasping his weeping shaft, urging you to straddle his legs. You follow his will despite the object of your desires lying neglected between your bodies, coating your stomach in the molten saltiness that drips from it.

"My stars, my sky, my galaxy, my universe." Each title of affection is seared into your skin with a burning kiss to brand your body. Your cheek, your ear, your neck, your shoulder, and your hand. "Without you in it, the world ceases to exist."

"My sun, my warrior, my knight, my shield, and my sword." You repeat a version of your own display of worship and what he means to you — mimicking the same actions across his lithe body. "My love, it would do you good to live in the present with me. Must you think of a dire future so soon?"

"Each inhale of life thus returns an exhale of death. I dread every moment that brings me closer to your end."

"Such morbid thoughts you carry, my darling. Where is the fearless god that took a poisoned arrow to the heart and pulled it out without so much as a flinch?"

"You think me weak when I'd take the blow of any weapon as long as it does not harm you."

The irony when you'd both been struck by invisible, non-lethal darts fired from the god of love's feathered bow. But the terrifying memory of Seokmin taking the assassination attempt in your place causes a rare, but true, fear twisting in your gut. The flash of life before your eyes changed the trajectory of your tactics and your relationship with the god. And as always he reassures you with what he knows to be the truth — for the most part.

"Nothing can hurt me as long as you're alright."

"Then make me your goddess in return so that I will be invincible enough to protect you from harm's wrath too."

"But that… you know I can't," he whimpers, "no matter how much I long to."

A tear trickles down his cheek, crystallizing when it falls. Like many before and well after, all bodily fluids of the god will be found transformed as various tiny diamonds and gems. Tangled within the bedsheets the following morning as they always are and stored away in the queen's treasury.

Seokmin cries, not just at his frustrations, but at how you gingerly hold his hot and hardened length. Heavy in your palm that rubs and strokes it lovingly before sinking down with practiced ease, having already stretched yourself out earlier while waiting. Undulating your hips in slow, controlled circles that make him dizzy with desire. Your words pierce his chest, paining him like no sword that sliced him open could ever compare.

"If fate will not let it happen, then bury me in the ground so I can thrive beneath your warm rays that whisper sweet nothings. Let me smile up at you after winter passes while I bloom brilliantly through spring and long into the heated days of summer. Weave my soul among the stars so I may greet you in the morning and kiss you goodnight every evening. Scatter my ashes into the windy gusts of the north and down the silver rivers flowing south so I may laugh and dance in the skies alongside your sunbeams."

He sobs at the poignant emotional tug of your words, every poetry waxed by your breathy voice punctuated by a tantalizing undulation of your hips. You reassuringly clench around him, foreheads and bodies pressed together, hands clasped tightly in each other's grasp.

The god's chest heaves and the mountains on the eastern border shift to the left. Sometimes the air cools when this occurs but tonight, it shimmers and glistens as if straining against his commands. A hot wave that threatens to distort the very seam of reality itself.

"I will always be yours," you kiss the corner of his trembling lips, "and you mine, my darling god."

"My sweet goddess, my everything… my love."

Seokmin's hips buck up anxiously and you let him lead the pace. Wild thrusts take over as he chases that high, wanting and needing to take you over that peak with him. Your body lays prone against him, along for the jostling ride as the god seeks his own pleasure through and with you. Praises and worship fall from his lips, never failing to be in awe of how your cunt molds and works his cock like a blacksmith shapes an iron rod yet he can bully it as he wants to fit him. Only him.

You were made for the god of the sun.

Golden ichor thrums through his veins, lighting his skin in flashes like the sparks of embers. He's beautiful. Otherworldly. Your lips capture each glowing pulse of godliness that erupts beneath his flesh with a tender peck. He's all yours.

And he was made for you.

When Seokmin plunges into your welcoming warmth that is his alone to claim before he finally succumbs, it's blinding. On the other side of the earth, the sun shines a little brighter. A harsh glint that already emits a sweltering heat from its fiery nature flares even hotter in the blue sky. A blessed priestess looks up in contemplation, waving away the worried maidens who tend to her every need.

You feel his large hands — one presses in a bruising hold between your shoulders, the other on your lower back. Keeping you flush against him, holding your body to his while you welcome inside the scorching spurts of his seed within your womb that feel like lava. Your walls flutter around him and he basks in the feeling of them pulsating as you jerk your hips

"Come," he begs out. It's loud and resounding. More of an instinctual command if anything and your body almost obeys unwittingly, unaware of his intent before he lifts you up with inhuman strength and clarifies, "Up here," and sits you on your rightful throne — his face, "where you deserve, the queen of queens. My queen. My love. My goddess."

He laps at you like a dehydrated dog. Both cleaning you up and creating an even bigger mess. Your thighs squeeze tightly around the sides of Seokmin's head, one hand tugging harshly at his hair and the other mercilessly wrinkling the silk bed sheets. His moans are sweet songs of praise but muffled as he sucks his release out of your cunt only to push it back inside with his tongue. The addition of globs of spit accompanying the still-hot, smeared mess causes your own sounds to grow much louder, writhing on top of him from the sloppy sensations.

Back and forth he repeats this a couple of times, the firm point of his nose stimulating your sore clit in his efforts. And finally, you come undone — spasming on top of Seokmin's chin and suffocating him just like he likes. Breathing and drowning in your essence, the very elixir of life.

"I shall make you mine," he whispers later, dutifully laying your deliciously aching but clean body onto freshened sheets. Your lover is ever so attentive, rarely nearly needing the same amount of aftercare he showers upon you.

For he is a god from the heavens to bestow blessings upon his desired mortal.

"I am already yours."

"But for all of eternity, it shall be so."

Satiated and content, you reach for him. He lovingly takes your hand and presses a kiss to the tip of each of your fingers. "How?"

"The Mother. She's the closest thing we have to the Creator and might be older than the universe itself. There's nothing she doesn't know so I'm sure she'll have the answers I seek."

"Must you leave so soon?"

Seokmin smiles as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. "The sun never fails to rise, my dear. I will be back before you know it bringing with me tidings of great news."

"I'll be waiting."

Your shared kiss is soft and gentle. Sweet and full of sentiment. Indeed, you always wait for him and the sun god leaves with a full heart of hope. Little does he know, and little do you suspect, the true one lying in wait was the shadowed figure holding a poisoned dagger beneath their cloak.

And so, with the death of a queen so loved by the god of the sun… the prophecy begins.

onlyseokmins: September 2024 ©

#ez.creates #svthub #svt.smut #dokyeom smut #seokmin smut #dk smut #lee seokmin smut #lee dokyeom smut #smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut

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hana-no-seiiki · 8 months

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ARDENT EXALTATION, ETERNAL DAMNATION

⟣┄─ ˑ 𝐈. ✧ yandere worshipper! x secret god! reader (ft. yan! god oc)

inspired by my bootiful @sagesskies n baldur’s gate shar/shadowheart

synopsis: if there was one main rule under your creed, it was for your name and titles thereof to never be spoken. but for this worshipper, it’s all that leaves his lips.

tw/cw: yandere & religious themes. yun sadist hours writing. reader calls oc their child but it’s not incest yall ples. character deaths.

TO WORSHIP YOU WAS THE GREATEST HONOR ONE COULD RECEIVE. An honor never to be shared nor declared. Selfishness and secrecy were the traits you valued in your followers. You simply felt that flaunting your presence to be superfluous, if not arrogant — thoughtless. A flaw you often saw in other gods that you wished not to have in yourself.

But of course, you were not perfect. No matter how much you may wished to be, even gods had their failures and oversights.

Once such oversight was Ynaël. The Prodigy, Priest of the Night, and your favorite.

He was immaculate. A perfect example of what it meant to worship you. He dedicated his voice, body, and soul only to you. No one knew his name but yourself. No one else knew he even existed. Those that did were sundered from existence, or lived in the afterlife.

You had only the highest of expectations for your child. He had an outstanding beginning. Unprecedented in your long, well hidden line of followers. You called for his name often. Assisted him in the ways you could as a deity in his adventures. Even allowing him to lay with you underneath the stars as mortals and your more carnal siblings did with their creations.

But as mortal beings and gods alike were, when faced with such high praise, it was inevitable for hubris to fester and slowly creep up on him.

He overstepped.

Sharing his devout adoration to his companions. Showering you with praise as he fought. Spreading your transcendent name throughout the very soil he stepped upon, and the crevices of bodies he’d desecrate.

What more was that he was proud of his accomplishments. You deserved to be known. To be remembered and immortalized. To share the spotlight your fellow celestial beings had. Was it not only right that you praise him even more?

But then, he could feel your presence slowly dimming in its luminance.

You never had a temple built to your name, so he could only ponder at night when everyone else had gone off to sleep or have fun underneath the sheets to wonder why you’ve seemingly left him. Was he too harsh? You were known for valuing mercy and forgiveness, the ability to show compassion even to the most tainted beings. Besides, you would never just leave him behind.

Frustrated with your lack of response to his calls, he sets upon a goal to build you a place for worship. One that was overdue in its establishment, in his opinion.

It took many, many agonizing years without a single word from you, but it was finally complete.

He takes a moment to gaze at the statue of your magnificent form he place behind the altar, soon to be covered with sacrifices and blessings. Anything you’d ask for, just as long as you bless him once more with yourself.

But instead, he is greeted by another presence.

A presence very similar to yours. Yet much, much more powerful.

Their voice almost tore Ynaël’s ears wide open in its magnitude.

“You killed them, you — a worthless scum of a mortal.”

Killed whom? Throughout his years working on your temple he had taken no life. He wanted everything to be completed as soon as possible. He had no time for any sorts of conquests.

“Meet your maker.”

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024

— to be continued

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splosh-crime · 4 months

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Demigod Kids Always Win

Some demigods have godlike power or mastery over the mind, but others have more subtle abilities. These understated skills are among the first to present among demigod children.

And what do these divine young ones do with these blessings?

Win.

Whether it’s competitions, bets, or just a game, very few demigods lack a competitive spirit.

⚡️Zeus: best jump-roper, longest breath-holder, highest jumper

🌊Poseidon: best sandcastle builder, best paper boat-maker, fastest swimmer, deepest diver, best fisherman

🌾Demeter: most berries picked, prettiest flower crown-maker, coolest stick-finder

💀Hades: coolest rock-finder, deepest digger, scariest storyteller, hide n seek champion, mafia winner

☀️Apollo: Angry Birds winner, Quack/Clap Dilly Oso champion, loudest voice, longest sun-stare, best singer

🍇Dionysus: funniest Mad Lib, staring contest champion (credit: @king-zacharyy ), fastest tree-climber, best storyteller, best party-thrower

🕊️Aphrodite: best braid/hairstyle, prettiest nail polish, best makeup

📦Hermes: Mario Kart winner, Duck Duck Goose champion (credit: @king-zacharyy ), fastest runner, best pickpocket, best prankster

🧠Athena: prettiest friendship bracelet, rock paper scissors & Evolution game champion, chess champion, ninja game champion

🧨Ares: thumb war champion, arm-wrestling champion

🔥Hephaestus: best Minecraft builder, best Lego builder, Jenga champion, most jalapeños eaten

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downbadf0rficppl · 8 months

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i didn't mean to love you so much

Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Summary: You don't know what you have until it's gone. Or is it?

Word Count: 6.0K

Repost

It took 3 days to arrive on D'Qar.

The Naboo N-1 Starfighter that you stole from the junkyard on Bracca was one wrong move away from falling out of the sky. Even with your constant mid-flight repairs, only prayers to the Maker were keeping her together. The BB unit you found kept you posted with constant, and frankly worrying, updates on how the ship was holding. Let's just say the plane was soon to be out of use.

When you entered the atmosphere in D'Qar, the landing gear erupted into flames, eliciting a series of explicit beeps from the BB unit. If not for the life-or-death in front of you, you would have burst into a fit of giggles.

Instead, you just grit your teeth: "Happy beeps, bud."

You and the BB unit left the carnage that used to be a starfighter flaming in the trees, bickering the whole time, and heading towards the Resistance Base. Towards new beginnings. Towards freedom.

Bracca was a junkyard, where scavengers and smugglers looked for parts to sell to the highest bidder. It was dark and dangerous at the best of times, and work was never-ending. It wasn't the kind of place you would want to grow up, but it was better than Kessel. Anything was better than Kessel.

It took a week to get to the Rebel base. Your head throbbed painfully with each passing day, with hardly any food in your system and little water to quench your thirst, the journey to salvation seemed almost unattainable. You had thanked the Maker for rain when it first came, but after 4 days of non-stop rain, you had cursed the skies for it. It only seemed to fall harder.

By day 5, the BB unit was running out of power, its movements slower than before. It was far too heavy for you to carry and without it, you would never reach the Resistance base. There were no sarcastic quips or complaints for its master anymore. No, the two of you traveled in silence, aside from the odd groan from either one of you. Its tiredness mimicked your own. You could only pray that the base would come into view soon. You weren't sure how much longer you would last.

When the planes came into view, you almost cried with joy. With newfound energy, you and the BB unit near-ran the way to the tarmac runway that signaled life on this dratted planet.

And while the BB unit was welcomed with cheers and open arms, you weren't so lucky.

You were marched to the medical bay by two men almost twice your size, flanked on the left and the right so you couldn't run if you tried. Your heartbeat in your throat. Of course, the resistance had to be careful, but surely this was excessive.

After you received treatment for your assortment of cuts and burns, you were delivered to a small room, adorned with only a bed and curtains to block out the light. Before you could say anything, let alone protest, the doors shut, leaving you alone in a small cell deep in the heart of the Resistance base.

As terrifying as the whole situation was, when you laid your head to rest on the bed in the dingy room, sleep came. It beat thorns and nettles on the forest floor of D'Qar. It beat sitting upright for 3 days, trying to avoid meteors and Tie Fighters. It beat restless nights on Bracca, hoping to gather enough for a meal. Sleep came to you better than it ever had before, and you reveled in it.

You woke up to familiar beeping outside the large metal door.

"BB-3?" Your voice came out as a hoarse whisper. The beeping got louder, almost unbearably loud, "Calm down, bud. I don't know how to open the door."

"Step back." A male voice came from behind the door, startling you. You stumbled backward, falling on the floor as the whooshed open. A tall man stood there, and if he were surprised you were on the floor, he didn't show it.

You scrambled to your feet, brushing the dust off your clothes as BB-3 rolled in, circling around you like a vulture would his prey. The man stood there observing you and the droid got reacquainted, before clearing his throat.

"Vice Admiral Holdo would like to speak with you." His tone was authoritative. You didn't want to be on his bad side. He led you toward an office on the opposite side of the building, your legs shaking as you walked. He shot you a pitying glance as BB-3 followed at your heels, before returning his face to its emotionless expression. You hated it.

It must have been early, as only a few people were up, and those who were seemed to want to rather be asleep. But no one batted an eye your way, despite the grime you still felt clinging to your face, and the ripped clothes you were wearing. You wondered if this was normal to them. People coming home grimy, hurt, and disgusting.

Only one man seemed to notice you on your journey.

"Snap!" A voice called out to you. The man in front of you - presumably Snap - broke into a huge grin. "Long time, no see, buddy!" Snap clapped the other man on the back, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

You stood there as the other man regaled the story of whatever mission he'd been on to Snap, and for a moment, you thought you were forgotten.

Until he turned. His eyes seemed to scorch your soul with their searching gaze. It was heavy, but you felt safe under it. Almost as if you knew that he would do nothing to hurt you.

"Heard all about how this one came in yesterday." He stretched out his hand, "Captain Poe Dameron. Pleasure to meet you."

You shook his hand and returned the favour, telling you his name. He tested it on his tongue, repeating a few times. Once he seemed satisfied, Poe turned back to Snap.

"How come you got stuck on babysitting duty?" He asked, mirth dancing in his eyes. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes or butt in - you wanted these people to like you. Sarcasm could be saved for later.

"Kid brought back my droid."

"BB-8 told me the story. Something about running from a resistance fighter, blowing up a depot train," you kick BB-3 gently, "and exploding an N-1. It was impossible. Maybe you should get your droid checked for gossiping?" Snap punched him in the arm, "Hey, it was just a suggestion." Poe grinned widely, "Oh, and the shootout. How could I forget the shootout?"

"It wasn't a shootout." You slapped your hand to your mouth. You hadn't meant to say that out loud. So much for saving the sarcasm for later.

Poe turns to look at you. "Oh?" his grin infuriatingly wide. "That's not what the droid said."

"It wasn't a shootout, we were shot at." Your confidence floods back into you. "And the depot train wasn't us. Wrong place, wrong time. Am I right, bud?" You glare down at the BB-unit.

He mumbles something about ruining a good story before whirring off to stop behind Snap. Stupid BB-unit.

"Guess you're more interesting than I gave you credit for kid." Snap stepped towards you, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. "The name's Temmin, Temmin Wexley. But everyone calls me Snap."

"Pleasure to meet you Snap," you echo Poe's words from earlier.

Your meeting with the Vice Admiral went well. She believed your story, well corroborated by both BB-3 and the bounty on your head placed by a well-meaning neighbour. She cleared you to start training with the resistance, though you surprised both her and Snap when you asked to be a mechanic.

Though when you started working on ships, it was clear to see why. It was almost like there was a secret language that ships spoke that only you seemed to understand. You scoffed at that. Beginner's luck you called it. Still, there was no denying that you loved working on the ships and that you were good at it too.

Months went by and you settled into the routines of the Resistance. You were given a room closer to the other mechanics, who, despite the constant tension of competition, seemed to like you well enough. You often sat with them for meals, although passing up on opportunities to spend more time with them. They seemed content with that. You got used to the early morning wake-up calls when the sun streamed through the window and urgent repairs needed to be made. You learned to enjoy the quiet evenings when everyone else had closed up shop and you could finetune repairs for those who needed it. You finally felt like you had a purpose. It was freeing.

Snap kept you up-to-date on the comings and goings of the First Order - never in much detail of course, but enough to satiate your desire to know more. In return you smuggled him extra jogan fruitcake when it was served while he was away. Sometimes, in thanks for saving your life, you made extra updates and repairs to his X-Wing when he came back from long missions - more often than not to save his those extra hours of tedious work.

Black Squadron had come home after a week long mission the night before. You had worked late into the night the day before, and you were now regretting it. Blue squadron had come into contact with a few Tie Fighters on night patrol, and the damage was hair-pullingly extensive. You were in for a long day. It didn't help that you could barely keep your eyes open, hands glued to a cup of Caf that was doing little for the tiredness clouding your brain. You didn't even notice Snap come storming in.

"WHO WORKED ON MY SHIP LAST NIGHT?" He yelled over all the mechanics. Shit.

You had done some basic repairs for him the evening before last and had spent the better part of last night finishing up repairs and repainting his ship. You knew how pilots were with ship paint. Maker, you were screwed.

After a few moments of silence, you decided it was better to own up than let everyone suffer. "I did, Wexley."

He slowly turned towards you, before grabbing you and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug, lifting your feet off the ground. You were shocked. He was happy - no, elated. The rest of the mechanics, equally as confused as you, turned back to their work, ignoring the scene in front of them.

He still had you gripped tightly when Poe walked in. "Easy tiger, you'll kill the greenie. What did she do to deserve your wrath?"

"My wrath?! No, no, no, Poe. This kid is my new favorite person on base."

"I'll try not to take offense to that," Poe grumbled jokingly, "What did she do to deserve such high praise then?"

"Have you seen my ship? She's beautiful, more beautiful than Jess that one time." He started, about to regale a story, you did not need to know. You elbowed him hard in the ribs.

"My sentiment exactly," Poe said to you, giving you a fist bump before walking over to Snap's X-Wing, closely followed by Snap himself. You trailed behind them, still unsure of what was going on. Poe dragged his finger across the paintwork, "He has a point though. I've never seen Snap's X-Wing look this good." Poe turned towards you, his warm brown eyes sparkling with pride. "Good job, Greenie."

You smiled gently, before turning away. It was high praise from Captain Poe Dameron, flyboy of the resistance.

"Maybe I'll snap her up, you know, give her a real ship to work on?" Poe said, his flirting tone making an odd double entendre that made your face light up in flames.

"Not a chance. Kid, you're my new mechanic. Officially."

"What if I don't want to be?" You countered, your sarcastic tone making both Snap and Poe burst into laughter.

You accepted the role though. There was no world in which you didn't. You enjoyed the perks of being Snap's favored Mechanic - you could sleep in more often, you were privy to more information than the average mechanic. He would tell you if he was to leave the base soon, you were often told just how bad a situation was. Snap trusted you. And if Snap did, so did the others.

'The others' being the other pilots on Black Squadron: Jessika Pava, Karé Kun, L'ulo L'ampar. And of course, Poe Dameron. It was almost like you couldn't escape him. His infectious laugh, his boyish grin, his boisterous personality. His ability to make even the most mundane task into a story for the ages.

No wonder he was so popular.

You began to sit with them in the cantina and you frequently ended up leading the repairs on Black Squadron, no one else being as trusted as you. You opened up to them slowly, telling them about growing up on Kessel and being brought to the Scrapper’s guild on Kessel. You told them the truth about your escape - Poe ended up on the floor laughing, saying “the real story’s so much better, BB-3”. They found out about your impeccable aim after a fun night in the cantina that ended in a tense game of holodarts. They became your family - more of a family you had ever had in your life.

And while, you saw Snap, L’ulo and Karé as your brothers, you could not say the same for Poe. Poe was a flirt, everyone knew that. But as you got closer and closer, it was harder to ignore the way you're heart sped up when he looked at you. How you're palms grew clammy when he smiled in your direction. How his praises and compliments made your knees weak. God you were in love with him.

You knew that half the women on the base had either slept with him or wanted to, and yet not one of them got even a second of his time. None of them except you. Poe would walk you to your room in the evening, and to the cantina in the morning, regaling stories of his adventures before he knew you. He’d bring you caf when you were working late, and sit under the stars with you at the end of a long day. He’d tell you stories of Yavin 4 and his mother. He showed you the ring that hung on the end of his necklace.

“I want to give it to the one, you know?”

“Don’t get all sentimental on me, Captain.”

He groaned, “Don’t rank me.” You just smiled.

“So, no lucky lady in your life, Dameron?”

“No lucky man in yours, greenie?”

You scoffed, “If there was ever a chance, they’ve all been scared away by you.”

“Good.”

You laughed it off, but inside your guts twisted at the idea that Poe was happy you were single. Your insides warmed at the idea that he might just feel the same.

The next morning, you walked out of your room to the sight of Poe sneaking out of the room opposite yours. Half-naked. His eyes widened at the sight of you, and your hand quickly hid your eyes from the view. Your heart dropped. He lied to you.

Poe sought you out later on in the day. He came up behind you on the landing deck, with a cool glass of jogan juice in hand. You had stripped out of your mechanics jumsuit, the arms tied loosely around your waist. Your tank top was almost a shade darker with the sweat of exertion and ridiculous heat. And yet you declined it, your face barely concealing your childlike annoyance. You knew it was stupid. You and Poe were barely friends, let alone anything that would justify your anger.

“I’m sorry.” Poe huffed, still standing underneath you in the beating sunshine. You were surprised: Poe Dameron never apologises.

“For what?” You said, your back still facing him. He sighed - he didn’t like it when anyone was annoyed at him. Least of all you.

“For this morning.”

“Why does it matter, Poe? You can sleep with who you want to.” You said, anger colouring your voice.

“It matters,” he yells, “because it upset you. Because, for whatever reason, the idea of me sleeping with other people, made you mad at me.”

His obliviousness tugged at your heartstrings, as if to say ‘he doesn’t feel the same’.“I’m not mad that you’re sleeping with other people.”

“Then why are you ignoring me?”

“Because you lied to me, Poe.” You say, dropping down from the ladder, sweat dripping down your back.

“What are you talking about?”

“You said there was no one special in your life.”

“There isn’t.” You raise a brow, before grabbing the glass of jogan juice from his hand. “Just because we had fun for a night, doesn’t mean I’m getting down on one knee.”

“I think you’ve done it enough times for that to be proven, Poe.”

His cheeky smile returned, “Glad we’re back on first name terms.”

You shook your head at him, “For the record, if I ever catch you sneaking out of a room in my wing again, I’ll skin you myself.”

“If you catch me you say? Well, I like myself a challenge.” You slap him on the head, before climbing back up the ladder.

“Leave me alone, Poe. I don’t need your love troubles plaguing my every hour.”

“There’s no place for things like love in the middle of a war, greenie. First thing you learn in a place like this.”

If he hadn’t been walking away, he would have heard your heart burst into a thousand tiny pieces. Maybe it was for the best if you didn't love him.

Instead of wallowing in undeserving heartache like an idiot, you forced yourself to forget all about the way Poe made your heart feel. He became just another friend, pushed so far into the friendzone that was no conceivable way out. To his credit, you didn’t hear of another escapade of his again. He probably just got good at hiding them.

That always got difficult when he was sent on week-long missions. Your heart would migrate into your throat and even swallowing became difficult. Your mind would swim with worry, all for him to come back completely fine, his ship always seemed to come home the least scathed. A fact for which your heart was grateful.

"Hey, flyboy," you called, as you walked into the cantina. There were less than 10 people in the whole room - probably due to the ungodly hour of the day.

Poe was sat in the corner, the light of his datapad shining on his face. He ran his fingers through his hair. It was unusually disheveled, which could only mean one thing. He was nervous.

You walked up to him. Evidently, he hadn't heard you from across the room, because when you came up to him and rested your hand on his shoulder, he flinched and grabbed your hand. You winced at his tight grip as he turned to face you.

Poe released your hand when he saw it was you. He leaned back into your chest, eyes fluttering shut. "I'm sorry," he whispered, gently.

You grabbed the datapad from his hands, and placed it face down on the table, "It's ok. What's going on?"

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

You absent-mindedly run your hands through his hair as his head remained leaned against your chest. "It's not nothing. Is it a mission? You're leaving again soon?"

He hummed in agreement.

"You're leaving today, aren't you? That's why you're up early."

"Why do you think Snap got you to wake up early? You're not just a sight for sore eyes, you know."

His words made you blush. Never have you been more glad that he isn't staring right at you - it would give your heart’s deepest darkest desires away.

He left that afternoon. After you completed routine checks for him, he was off on a top-secret adventure. Sometimes, it was easy to hate his rank, because it made it so hard to find out where he was, or what he was doing. But as always, you let him go and, as always, you prayed he'd come home safe. To you. You always pray he comes home safe to you.

Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks. And while it wasn't unheard of for Poe to be gone this long, your heart could barely take him being gone for a day. That's the price of being in love. You'd never thought of yourself as still being in love with Poe until he left on that mission. You'd never thought much of the way your heart still raced when he talked to you. You'd never thought much of the way your heart still ached when he left for missions. You'd never thought much of the way your heart still burst when he smiled at you. But without him there, it's like your heart could not find a reason for beating.

You continued on with your job, trudging through daily repairs and meals, trying to keep your mind away from Poe. You forced a smile when you talked to Snap - missing Poe hit him just as hard as it hit you. You forced a smile when you taught new recruits - you couldn't afford to have them hate you just because the Captain was missing. You forced a smile when you came down for dinner - there was no use in moping around in the middle of a war. But when you were in the comfort of your own room, you let the smile fall and the tears drip down your face. You cried almost every night for the first week that he was gone, trying to reconcile your newly found feelings and your newly lost friend.

It was a surprise to everyone when Poe crash-landed back on D'Qar with burns and cuts littering his body. You were up at an extremely early hour as working on Snap's ship when he landed, and you were immediately filled with concern. A tight knot wound its way around your throat, as you watched the scene unfold. BB-8 was nowhere to be seen. The ship is smoking dangerously, and parts of it are falling off, but most worrying of all, Poe was struggling to get out of the cockpit. You quickly threw yourself onto the X-Wing, hitting the emergency ejection latch with the spanner in your hand. The cockpit lid flew open and Poe climbed out, coughing heavily and clutching his side. Snap came running out of the base, and grabbed Poe's arm. You ran up and grabbed the other, and the two of you dragged him towards the med wing.

Two nurses snapped him up, cleaning his wounds and applying bacta spray where necessary. Snap turned away, mumbling something about an early morning briefing, but you stayed rooted to the spot. You couldn't take your eyes off his broken state, and tears slipped out of your eyes before you could control them. After a beat, you spun around on your heel and sprinted to your room.

When the door clanged shut, you slumped onto the floor and burst into tears. You couldn't bear to see Poe in pain. You hated yourself for not being strong enough to fight through your tears to be with him. And you hated yourself for still being in love with him, when you promised you would be. When your datapad lit up with tasks for the day, you made the rash decision to call in sick. In the time you had been on the base, you had never called in sick. This job was your lifeline, your passion, and nothing, not even illness, would affect that. At least, that's what you had thought. You spent the majority of the week in that same spot, tears subsiding when you became so dehydrated that your body refused to let you cry.

On the fifth day of your hibernation, you finally left your room, having showered and gotten ready. Few people were on the base, apart from the mechanics and medics, and the injured - which included Poe. Given the lack of a real threat in the vicinity, General Leia had given the day off. You didn’t want to relax. You couldn’t relax.

You snuck over to where Poe’s beat up X-Wing was parked, and the sight of it almost made you tear up. The memories hit you like a brick. Poe barely limping towards the med wing. BB-8 being carried to the droid repair room. Fire extinguishers coating the X-Wing with hopes that it may be able to fly again. You got to work.

You were finally satisfied as the sun set over the vast treescape of D'Qar, covered head to toe in oil and grease. After some gentle coaxing by Paige - the only one aware of your all-consuming feelings for Poe - you agreed to grab something small to eat with her.

What you didn't sign up for was to see a broken and battered Poe sitting at the table, laughing at some stupid joke that Snap had probably made. He looked up as you walked in, almost as if he was expecting you. His eyes met yours, and you felt the tight knot in your throat begin to form again - just as it had the morning Poe crash-landed on the base.

Poe tried to lift his arm up to wave but winced at the action, the stitches keeping his wounds bound together stretching at the extreme action. You pressed your lips into a tight smile, willing the Maker to take your tears away. Paige handed you a bottle of water, before leading you toward the table. She left you standing in front of the table, where you awkwardly shifted your feet.

"Gonna sit down?" Snap asked, mirth dancing behind his eyes, "Or are you planning to put on a show? Wouldn't put it past you to have hidden another talent."

You smiled weakly, sitting down next to Jess and unscrewing the cap on the water bottle you had been given. Jess leaned over and whispered gently, "Feeling ok? Paige came up to ask if you were ok when you didn't show up at drills this morning."

"Yeah, felt a bit under the weather after morning rounds."

"Probably the shitty sleep you've been getting worrying about this guy." Karé said, pointing his knife at Poe.

Poe looked at you, his eyes wide, but you tried to brush off Karé's words, sarcastically replying, "Oh please Karé, the only thing you're worried about is whether or not they have that drink that you like from Sorgan, which is disgusting by the way - I don't know how you can drink it."

Everyone laughs as Karé splutters about how delicious spotchka is, the anxiousness wracking your body easing its reins slightly. Under the table, you feel Poe's foot nudge yours gently. You smile lightly at him, careful not to let him have a good look at your red-rimmed eyes and splotchy face. As much as it shouldn't matter, you don't want him to know how much you care.

"You don't have to pretend you don't care for the captain, kid. You should have seen how she leaped to open the hatch Poe, something from a Naboo holodrama. Or one of those superhero films." Snap laughed, as your face burned red.

Poe raised his eyebrow, "Now that's something I would like to see. Maybe I'll get myself stuck in a cockpit again, just to see you in action." He laughs, but you don't laugh with him. You feel your chest tighten, and the knot in your throat return. Your vision clouds with tears, and you quickly got up, excusing yourself on the notion that your headache has returned, and that you should probably get some rest before drills the next day. You stumbled out of the cantina, breaking into a sprint as soon as you were out of sight.

Poe’s eyes followed you as you left, worrying tinting his gaze. The group had fallen almost silent at your abrupt exit, looking at where you’d run, before turning back to Poe. Snap slapped the back of his head.

“Why, in the Maker’s name, would you say that?”

“What?” Poe said, rubbing the back of his head. Jess gave him a pointed look, “What did I say?”

“You joked about getting hurt, Poe! Why would you do that?”

“He didn’t just joke about getting hurt, Wex! He joked about almost dying!”

"Oh please, it's not that big of a deal. Everyone knew it was a joke. Right?" No one looks at him. "Right?!"

Jess waves at Paige, whose eyes were trained at the door. She meekly walks over, leaning down to talk to Jess.

"Is she ok?" Paige asked, her eyes brushing over the group until they landed on Poe, "What did he do?"

Poe's eyes narrowed in confusion. "I'm so confused," he muttered under his breath.

"He made a joke.”

Snap butt in, “About almost dying."

Paige’s eyes widened, "You're not serious."

"Look, I don't know what's up with her today, but something tells me that that was the last thing she needed right now."

Paige turned towards Poe, "If you weren't injured right now, Captain, I would beat you up."

"Hold up. I don't even know what I did." He said, standing up. "I get that the joke was a little misplaced, but it was a joke. I didn't put myself in this situation willingly."

"We get it, Poe. But you haven't been here. She's literally been destroyed - she's barely sleeping, I barely see her come down to eat, she spends all her time working on different ships, drowning herself in work. Today was the first day in the year she's been here that she's called in sick." Paige said, her eyes flitting between Poe and the door. She was in a half-mind to run after you, to console you.

Poe beat her to it. He got up, ignoring the protest from his teammates, and headed towards your room. He knocked lightly on your door, hearing the gentle sobbing from your room.

His heart broke. He knocked again.

“I’m fine Paige, I just need sleep.”

“Nice to know you’d lie to Paige.” Poe said, his voice steady and gentle. You open the door to you room, the door whooshing up to reveal Poe in all his glory, “Would you lie to your Captain?”

“Don’t pull rank with me, Poe.” You joked as he bent to meet your eyes.

He reached out to caress his fingers against your cheek and wipe away the stray tears. You leaned your head into his hands, the callouses on his hands like comfort against your cheek. He touches his forehead to your eyes, his eyes closed as if he couldn’t quite believe you were here. That this was happening.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. Poe’s eyes met yours, softly searching for something. Answers, probably.

“Why are you sorry, darling?” The pet name gripped your heart, so familiar and yet so foreign. The tears begin to flow freely again. He soothed you, mindlessly carding his fingers through your hair, “Don’t cry, don’t cry.”

You look into his eyes, and can’t help but to sob harder. Why did you have to fall in love with him?

Your head curled into his chest, seeking the comfort only he could give. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He asked, whispering into your hair.

“I didn’t mean to.” You said through tears. Poe looked at you.

“You didn’t mean to what, love?” He asked. You repeated it over and over, your tears soaking through his shirt. He lets you cry until your weak, pulling you further into his arms.

He asks you again.

“I didn’t mean to love you so much.” You confessed through whispers. It was so quiet that you thought that Poe didn’t catch what you said.

His widened eyes told you otherwise.

“You…?”

“I love you.” You whispered.

“You-you love me?”

“I love you so much that whenever I see you my heart quickens until it’s uncomfortable.”

“Love -”

“I love you so much that my hands become so sweaty that I can barely keep a hold of my datapad.” You showed him your hands that were covered in a sheen. He gives you a watery laugh, before wiping your hands on his already soaked shirt.

“I love you so much that when you leave, I can’t bear to survive.”

“Love-” You interrupt him again.

“There’s no life without you, Poe.” Your voice broke as you dissolved into another bout of tears.

“Love, please.” Poe sighed, kissing your forehead, “Please, just-”

“I know. It’s a war. I shouldn’t have, but I did and I can’t help it. Please don’t hate me, please-”

Poe grabbed your face, pulling you into him. He grazed his lips over yours, before pulling away way to fast.

“I could never hate you, love.”

You pull him back towards you, smashing your lips onto his. He pulls you into his lap deepening the kiss further. You run your fingers through his hair, and over where the bandages cover his fresh wounds. Poe winced, and you pulled back.

“You should rest. And heal up.”

He looked at you with such adoration, that for a moment you thought you’d melt away. “I have the rest of forever to heal up. I want this now.”

“You have me for the rest of forever. I think you should heal up now.” He rested his forehead against yours, sighing and closing his eyes. You kissed his nose gently.

“The rest of forever is too far away.” He whispered.

“You made me wait for this long. I think you could wait for a little longer.”

“Only a little bit, love. Only for you.”

He stood up, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed it, and he pulled you to your feet. The sudden motion had you dizzy, head pounding due to the dehydration. He caught you gently, lifting you into his arms, before gently depositing you on the bed. He left light kisses on your forehead, and left with the promise of coming back with water and a little food.

He walked out of the mechanics wing and back towards the cantina, intent on his mission to get a little food and water into you.

The whole of black squadron watched him walk in. Poe nodded to them lightly, not knowing exactly what they had been expecting. Apparently it was enough for them, as they turned back towards each other.

He grabbed a small muffin and a bottle of water, before heading back to your room. He walked into see you asleep on the bed, and he couldn’t help but smile. God, she’s beautiful.

Poe sat down on the bed, rubbing your arm gently. You opened a bleary eye to see Poe crouched next to you, blocking the moonlight streaming in from the window. He pulled off his shirt, and lifted your head up to get you drink some water, before settling down next to you. You rested your head on his chest before falling back to sleep.

Poe moved under you, pulling his necklace from around his neck and placing it around yours. Your hand immediately migrated to the metal ring strung on the end. Poe froze. What if it’s too soon. He relaxed almost immediately, as your fist closes around his rings.

He relaxed, pushing his nose into your hair. You smiled as he whispered something that he probably only said because he thought you were asleep.

“I love you too."

fin.

buy me a coffee

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talonabraxas · 3 months

Text

“Colour is the soul of Nature and of the entire cosmos...” — Rudolf Steiner

Colors Meditation, Aura, and Healing Levels

The Meditation/Dream level helps you to understand a color or a colored object seen in a dream or meditation.

The Aura level helps you to understand the purpose of that color within the human energy field.

The Healing level is the way the color works when applied to healing the body or spirit.

WHITE

Meditation/

Dream: Truth of the highest order. Enlightenment. Energy in its most pure form. Divinity.

Aura: Never a predominate color in the aura unless you are looking at an angel or an ascended master. However a white layer in the aura or a layer with white streaks indicates a person following the will of God and being directed by it.

Healing: Charging the energy field, bringing peace and comfort, divine light or whole white light entering.

VIOLET

Meditation/

Dream: Conjures feelings of enchantment, wishes fulfilled, of dreams made fact. Transformation of the self or of some aspect of your life into a higher form. Connecting to your higher self. The "I am God" presence.

Aura: This color in the aura is the highest vibration for the human spirit. A person who is in command of his life and energy. A visionary. Violet with a gold outline is a person who is one with spirit and God and is in service to mankind.

Healing: Connecting to spirit, the opening of the third eye, the clearing of the head, purging the auric field of distortions.

BLUE

Meditation/

Dream: Blue is the energy of pacification, self protection, sweetness and tenderness, and of loyalty. It represents contentment and reunion with the Earth.

Aura: Blue in the aura represents a teacher or a very sensitive person. They are kind and caring and will do much to help others grow.

Healing: Cooling, calming, restructuring of the etheric level, taking away pain when doing deep tissue work and work on bone cells. Blue also helps to expand a person's field to connect to his/her life task.

GREEN

Meditation/

Dream: Taken most directly from nature, these hues often are expressive of constancy, self-affirmation, security, self-esteem, and of deeply rooted pride. A healing meditation may contain green, as it is the color of new growth.

Aura: Green in the aura signals a very intellectual person who may possess healing gifts. At the very least it signals a nurturer personality and one that will do what they can to make another comfortable.

Healing: Charging the heart chakra, balancing the aura, general healing, sometimes charging the aura to ensure well being and health, and to remove illness.

YELLOW

Meditation/

Dream: Representative of cheerfulness, radiance, relaxation and release from burdens. It is warmth of sunlight, the halo around the Holy Grail. Yellow is hope.

Aura: Yellow, like green also signals a very intellectual person, but this person does not possess healing gifts. They are powerful thinkers, and idea makers.

Healing: Charging the brow chakra, clearing a foggy head.

ORANGE

Meditation/

Dream: Symbolic of fire, of expanding energy, power and the omnipotence of the sun and the majesty of sunsets. Energy to accomplish ones goals.

Aura: A very ambitions person who needs to succeed and has the energy to do so.

Healing: Charging the auric field, increasing sexual potency, increasing the immunity system.

ROSE

Meditation/

Dream: In meditation or dreams represents self-love, also resurrection. The color of flesh, of sensuality and emotion, romantic love, and supportive love.

Aura: A person in-love with another or in-love with one's created environment.

Healing: Subtle healing and love. This energy puts back a sense of self love and self worth.

RED

Meditation/

Dream: Red represents the will to achieve, energy, intensity, and struggle. It is also appetite, desire, and reproduction. It is life in the "now."

Aura: People with mostly red in their aura are fiery spontaneous people. They are often fearless, or appear that way. Red's make good police and firemen and soldiers. Red will also be found in the normal aura for brief periods during great anger or passion.

Healing: Super charging the auric field, burning out cancer, warming cold areas.

GOLD

Meditation/

Dream: Divinity transforming lower energy to upper energy. Spiritual power in all aspects operating for the greater good.

Aura: Gold in the aura is rarely a predominate color, however you can find it as an outline to another color, like violet. Gold as an outline in the aura adds the dimension of spiritual nobility and rank, a person that has and is achieving great spiritual progress and work.

Healing: The restructuring of the seventh layer of the aura (the God self).

GRAY

Meditation/

Dream: Grey in a dream or meditation signals excessive energy being burnt off. it is also a lifting of intense fear or some life-threatening situation.

Aura: A person who's life-force is leaking away due to unhappiness, sadness, depression, or illness. With the color black a person with advanced cancer.

Healing: Only used during a healing when excessive energy must be removed because the person can't handle it.

BLACK

Meditation/

Dream: In the shinny black variety it is a closing in of energy and resource to protect ones self. The velvet or shinny black is not a negative color to get in a meditation, especially if you are feeling burnt out. A velvet black light opens up the Aura so that it can accept higher colors.

Aura: A dull lifeless black in the aura shows a person who is very far removed from the constructive forces of the universe. With the grey streaks, it shows a person being destroyed by his or her own separation from God.

Note: Wearing black is very common and it opens up the human aura to all the other colors. Many students of the occult like to wear black for this reason. Wearing black also protects your energy from leaking out to others.

Healing: The velvet black color is used to bring a patient into the state of grace, silence, and peace with God.

SILVER

Meditation/

Dream: Silver relates to the moon, the subconscious, and the female aspect of the universe.

Aura: Not a color usually present in the aura in any great quantity.

Healing: Used to purge the auric field and to charge the sixth level of being (karmic level), to remove old karma that is no longer needed.

INDIGO

Meditation/

Dream: Purple or indigo in a dream or meditation signals some kind of psychic power or ability or some kind of psychic force.

Aura: In the aura shows a very intuitive person, a person with prepackaged abilities that come from before birth to be used physically in this incarnation. These people tend to be square pegs as far as society and fitting in is concerned. This will change as more of the current generation is born with this color and takes its place in society.

Healing: The opening up of intuition or of some psychic ability. It is also used to prepare the individual of the entering of the divine spirit.

CRYSTAL

Meditation/

Dream: Transformation into a new form or a higher energy state. Crystals amplify and a crystal light will amplify your own energy to a higher level.

Aura: A crystal aura around a person is clear but will have other colors intermingled with it. This is the 'chameleon' aura. People with this aura will take on the attitudes and ways of those around them. The aura of others becomes their own aura. It is important for these crystal people to only surround themselves with the best influences possible, for obvious reasons. A person with a crystal aura must learn how to separate themselves from everybody else.

Healing: Sometimes used to fill in an empty spot where some energy was removed, so that nothing unwanted takes it place, till the person's energy field can replace the vacuum with its own energy field.

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bloodflwrz · 13 days

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These wall artworks in Carl Manfred's Mansion (theory and analysis)

Carl's mansion itself is an amazing location because I can't help but look and analyze every single piece of art scattered across the walls and floor. But these three objects in particular made me curious, I wanted to understand why they were specifically chosen to be placed on that wall. None of them are similar in any way, stemming from different cultures, eras, and material. So, what could they mean? I have an idea, sort of.

I believe each of these three pieces represent our main three protagonists, from left to right: Connor, Markus, and Kara. It represents their identity, their story, their journey. I did some research on these objects, using Google Lens to help point me first in the right direction of the possible inspiration or sources of the pieces, and afterwards my own reading using various art archives, articles, galleries, and museum sites. (I apologize for the wall of text 😅)

1st, Connor:

This seems to be a type of emblem, shield, a coat of arms. A coat of arms is typically adorned and used to represent an entity, and organization, an empire, government, army, or a noble family. Coats of arms are intellectual property, meaning, they cannot be worn just by anybody and flaunted just to feel special, you have to be deserving and privileged enough to display it. Wearing one is a sign of honor and respect, as well as servitude, and with it comes the duty of representing your status and regulating civil law, should you be in a position of policing, legal activity, or combat.

How does this relate to Connor?

Our beloved Android sent by CyberLife has been given orders by his makers, the great and all powerful company that produces every single Android we see in game. His duty is to assist the Detroit Police Department in investigating deviants. This coat of arms, particularly shaped like a shield or police badge, represents Connor's story as a prestigious and advanced prototype Android, with the capability to analyze clues at an inhuman rate and perform combat maneuvers like its child's play. He is not a force to be reckoned with, should he choose to stay a machine, in fact, he IS the law. He is the shield and representative of the company, CyberLife, and its only chance at finding the source of deviancy among their highest-profiting product, Androids. Without Connor, CL is headed straight into nothingness. He must not disappoint Amanda, his handler, and be the loyal subject that he was programmed to be. The infamous blue triangle logo found on every Android's uniform, a symbol of CL, is just a modern version of a coat of arms.

If you look from a Deviant Connor perspective, the police badge/shield-shaped coat of arms could also represent his loyalty to Hank and his protective demeanor. At almost every dangerous encounter alongside his partner, Connor is given the choice to either protect or ignore Hank's safety. Though his priority is to find the deviants, it is his personal mission to protect Hank from harm.

2nd, Markus:

A Marka/Dogon mask, originating from West African ethnic groups (Mali, Ivory Coast, Burkina Faso), particularly the Bambara and Dogon people (and other adjacent groups within the geographic location). This one was a bit difficult to research about, as many masks tend to have ambiguous origins and meaning, but from what I read, these masks tend to represent the coming of age, male initiation, journey into manhood, identity within a society, as well as religious association when used in rituals, sacrifice, and tradition. Some forms of these masks are used in rituals that have a connection with the dead, showing reverence and respect for those who passed on. Practicing remembrance and showing honor to their ancestors are large aspects of their culture with the use of these masks. The masks are also used in traditional healing practices, where they are believed to have powerful spiritual properties that can help cure illness and promote well-being. These handcrafted masterpieces are extremely important in these cultures and are often passed down by generations, signifying the importance of family and bond.

How does this relate to Markus?

These unique masks were primarily made and used by men in West African ethnic groups during the initiations of boys transitioning to men. Much like our Markus, the 'adoptive son' of Carl himself, Markus' innocence and youth is suddenly taken and he's forced into chaos, being harassed by protestors, threatened by Leo, almost permanently shutdown, thrown into the android scrapyard, and has to navigate the world by himself without his father to protect him. He has to mature and leave the comfort of his peaceful and comfy life, and come to terms with the cruelty of the world where Androids are subjugated to abuse and slavery. As a man, no longer a protected child, he takes the responsibility of protection and guidance for his people, symbolizing his 'coming of age' and transition into manhood. He is changed, has endured trauma, and must put on a mask to show that he is still strong and ready to live a life in his new role as a leader. As Lucy puts it, "You had it all, and you lost it all... You've seen hell and now hell lives in you."

Markus' story is closely related to death and the reverence of his 'ancestors': previous Androids who have suffered and died at the hands of humans. His goal as the leader of Jericho is to avenge those that they have lost and fight for those he can yet save. Every deviant's life is unique and special, their stories have meaning, even if they are treated like mere objects and servants by human society. Markus is willing to sacrifice his life in many instances to send a message to the humans, pass on his legacy to Jericho, and afterwards, all of society. His ability to convert is symbolic of a crying, healing, and inspiring message, reaching the furthest reaches of Detroit to those that need it the most. He wants to heal and save his people, bringing them biocomponents and thirium, expanding their sanctuary, arming his people (or family, at this point) with defenses, but in order to do that, he has to be willing to carry the burden of leadership.

3rd, Kara:

The skull of a bull, carved, broken, yet standing strong, thanks to kintsukuroi, aka Kintsugi. Kintsugi is the intricate Japanese art of repairing broken ceramic pottery using powdered gold/silver/platinum to put the pieces together, and display something in a different light, even more special than its original form. The purpose of Kintsugi isn't to hide or disguise the broken figure, but to instead emphasize its history, showing the life that the object had endured. The traditional Japanese philosophy of "Wabi-sabi", often associated with this particular art, describes that beauty can be appreciated even when it's broken and imperfect. There is beauty even in something modest and rough. Even a powerful and enduring beast, like a bull, can be broken down, but its story isn't over, its remains can still be repaired and appreciated if put together by a powerful glue such as gold, or perhaps... Love?

How does this relate to Kara?

Kara, the perfect housemaid Android for domestic work and childcare, is no stranger to being broken. In fact, our first scene with Kara is her being repaired and returned to Todd. Her memory has been wiped clean, she's been made anew, it's almost like nothing has happened, right? Over the course of her story, we learn that Kara has in fact been destroyed, broken, and abused by Todd. How do we come to the realization of her past? Thanks to Alice. Alice, in this case, is her glue, the mold between her cracks and shards. The bond and natural love between Alice and Kara is what keeps her together, alive. Because Kara is a protective mother-figure, the bull, or a cow, whatever you perceive it as, is a perfect symbol for her. Bulls are gentle in their nature, until a trigger sets off their instinct to fight and run you over with their body mass and horns. This is seen in her constant struggle to survive and seek shelter.

We come across two men in particular (out of her many escapes from danger) who set this instinct off, Todd and Zlatko. Both of them want to (or attempt to) break her, wipe her memory clean, and take away the beauty that is her caring nature and deviancy. Just like how mankind has domesticated cattle for their own benefit. Alice brings her back every single time. No matter how much of her body and memory is stripped away, she is back and stronger than before. Kara is a survivor. She can cut her hair, remove her LED, wear ragged clothes as a disguise, but deep down it's still Kara. Her story is shown in her battle scars and changes in her appearance, just like the golden streaks of broken pottery. As long as she has the protective instinct and love for Alice, it'll always be Kara. This is the beauty symbolized by Kintsugi and Wabi-sabi.

---

If you made it this far, thank you! I'd love to hear your opinions and comments on my analysis. This might all be a stretch, but seeing as how the game is littered with references, themes, and symbolism across many scenes, these artworks seemed to standout for a reason, at least to me.

#DBH #detroit become human #Connor #Markus #Kara #Carl Manfred #RK800 #RK200 #AX400 #theory #text #mine #analysis #DBH theory #art

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nocturnal-lanturn · 1 month

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most to least likely to get bitches: txt edition

pt2 of my "mtl likely to get bitches" my other ver was for skz and i thought it was funny and my friend and i were talking about it again. so. here it is.

also warnings: suggestive themes!!!

1. yeonjun is the obvious choice. he obviously gets bitches. idk if i even have to explain, he has the face card, he has the body, he has the social skills, he has the confidence. 100% gets hoes with ease. he knows his power and exercises it. about 75% likely to fuck a fan, i sense that he prolly wouldn't mind

2. taehyun, personally i think taehyun COULD get hoes. does he actively seek them is the question. could easily be seungmin 2.0 where he has the direct ability but decides the bag isn't worth it. he seems like he knows how to actually exist in a club and his bedroom eyes don't play (talking from experience). so!! i think that he's pretty high on the list. he's also one of the least losers in txt, so that helps a lot. 60% likely to fuck a fan. i think he's a bit more cautious ngl

3. soobin. i am a very big loser soobin agenda pusher (this man is so loser core it hurts bad but then again, all of txt are losers tbh) BUT!! i think he can mask his loserness more than beomgyu can (which is why beomgyu is lower, among other reasons lol). i think overall hes a very attractive charismatic guy (bonus points bc hes all around pretty good at comedy and timing!!) so i think his ability of getting bitches are very high and he can successfully bag them. 80% would fuck a fan, i think he would think its fun and risky

4. beomgyu. okay!! i love beomie, he's one of my obsessions biases. but... guys.. this man is not only a loser, he's insane!! like he's incredibly funny and a mood maker, don't get me wrong, but this man is bonkers!! in a fun way, but still bonkers! i think if he was his off screen self (bc i'm sure he's much more subdued irl) then he could pull it off! but for the sake of this ranking, he's a loser with no chance (other than me). 40% likely to fuck a fan. i think he's more on the "yall are chill" side of the parasocial relationships.

5. kai ... the epitome of "i brought this girl over and we played video games :D" (my friend gave me that description and i stole it). this man is bitchless to the highest degree, but personally, i think that should change. this man is hot as fuck, in my humble opinion!! i think he could get bitches, but fumbles the bag bc he doesn't want to assume or doesn't understand his power. 35% to fuck a fan. i don't see it for him ngl

this was much longer than the skz one lol. bc there were less members i felt like i could elaborate more.

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disease · 5 months

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LIST: iOS SHORTCUTS

• Spotify to MP3 | "Download Spotify tracks to MP3." • All Media Downloader | "This shortcut helps you download content from social media apps." • Web Services | "Customise the internet for you." • Better GIF Maker | "Convert videos and live photos to GIFs at highest quality using ffmpeg" • Water Eject | "Powerful water ejection system." • Paywall and Cookie Bypass | "Bypass website paywalls and cookies." • iUtilities | "The only shortcut you’ll need" • Reverse Image Search | "Search by image instead of keywords" • Google Translate | "Quickly translate using the Google Translate API" • iTweak Final Version | "A Jailbreak Alternative With Multiple Features!"

...WHAT ARE SHORTCUTS?

for those unaware: the pre-installed Shortcuts app on iOS/macOS/iPadOS can potentially be a life-changing application in regards to digital productivity.

it's utilized as a hub for your collection of shortcuts and automations. shortcuts allow for just a single click—which many times is conveniently incorporated onto your "share" sheet option panel—to execute one or multiple actions; automations are chosen commands that run at specific/relative times of day without prompt.

people tend to overlook the Shortcuts app due to its available "gallery" of shortcuts being rather limited... with the only other option provided being to build these desired actions yourself, which requires the skill of digital coding. however! that's where RoutineHub comes in: it's a website allowing users to share their own complex shortcuts, free of charge, and has a large selection to choose from.

RoutineHub: Shortcuts {by Popularity}

#smart technology #digital productivity #life hacks #productivity #shortcuts #smart living #automations #iOS #macOS #iPadOS #technology #routinehub #g #link #text #ref

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deisbookofdemons · 2 years

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Zizzi would fly into Nevada to look for the Maker before she noticed him as she flew down to him. "Um hey, you wouldn't believe what happened to me recently." She would let out a soft yawn.

The Maker sipped some tea. "There are very few things that a deity won't believe."

#|| the highest power: the maker ||#bluemajingirl

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astrologyaware777 · 3 months

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Houses 9-12

Based on Chris Brennen’s books on fate and Hellenistic astrology

10th house

“Place at the peak” the top,the summit of one’s life and livelihood

Signifies action, what one does - occupation

The highest spot in the chart, reputation, rank, advancement, change, innovation

Honour, ruling , leading

How effective you are, successfulness

Associated with children-can be one of the things that are native does or produces

The 11th house

The place of good spirit

Joy of Jupiter

Rising up, aspiring to reach the highest point of the chart

That which helps native to support the action native does in the 10th

Friendship, alliance, patronage, becoming friends with powerful people

As a post-ascension, that is rising up associated with hopes, desires, expectations

That which the native aspires towards

“ increase of things in the future”

Acquisition, gifts, honours, dignity, wealth

Associated with children, because 5 houses from the 7th house

(Derivative astrology)

The 12th house

Bad spirit

Joy of Saturn

Pre-Ascension of the hour maker

Place referred to as “between worlds”

Everything that happens before birth- for both mother and child shows the separation

Enemies, loss , misfortune

Suffering, ailments, injuries, danger, weakness, death & troubles

Derives from being a declining place that is in aversion to the rising sign

What detracts from life & or the spirit

What comes about by force or restraint, trials, judgement

Slaves, servants, quadrupeds- four-footed Animals

Associated with travel, travel that does not go well, or is difficult, such as being banished from one’s country

#10th house #astrology #hellenistic astrology #11th house #12th house #astrology notes #astrology chart #chrisbrennen #traditional astrology #hermes

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rashfordxbruno · 1 year

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"Today, we female fans of Manchester United are demanding that the club to abide by their duty of care towards their female fans and employees and demonstrate a zero tolerance approach towards acts of violence against women by refusing to bring Mason Greenwood back into the squad."

"The situation is clear - taking Greenwood back legitimises and normalises sexual assault and domestic abuse. It tells other players, and the men and boys that look up to them, that abusing women is acceptable, without consequence, and won't affect you or derail your career."

"It also tells us, as women, that we don't matter. It tells female MUFC employees that their employer is happy to make them work alongside an abuser, and tells hundreds of thousands of female fans that supporting the team we love involves supporting men who abuse women like us."

"It tells us that our safety doesn't matter, our experiences don't matter; that the 1 in 4 women who experience domestic abuse and/or sexual assault in the UK don't matter. It tells us that men who make the club money matter; not us, our fellow fans, mothers, sisters or daughters"

"The club has launched all sorts of initiatives in recent years to allegedly promote inclusivity and diversity at the match, but "All Red All Equal" means nothing if the rights of those who have perpetrated gender-based violence are more equal than those who have lived through it"

"We know there are currently multi million pound PR firms spinning narratives to go along with his potential return. "Repentant father who has turned his life around and just wants to support his partner and child." "Young genius who made a mistake but deserves a second chance.""

"Threatening your partner with sexual violence isn't "a mistake", it's deliberate, targeted abuse. The lockdown parties and police warnings were apparently "a mistake", getting dropped by England and sent home from camp for breaking the rules was also apparently "a mistake"."

"The problem here isn't a player who has "made a mistake", it's a player who has consistently demonstrated an attitude of extreme arrogance, entitlement and exceptionalism; and who has shown nothing but disregard and contempt for what it means to represent this great club."

"Everyone makes mistakes, but not everyone does so while in the position of power and privilege Greenwood is. If you want to play at the highest level at the biggest club in the world, your behaviour will be held up to the highest level of scrutiny, accountability and expectation."

"The decision of senior management at MUFC regarding Greenwood's return will tell us fans everything we need to know about their ability to run this club, and about whether they have any genuine willingness to listen to, engage with, and support fans on issues that matter to us."

"Is this club for them just a vehicle for commercial success, trophies, sponsorships and revenue? Or do they genuinely share our vision of Manchester United as a great institution that exists as a place of belonging and community for those who care about its values and traditions?"

"We are calling on the club to do the right thing. For their fans, for their employees, for the millions of young boys and girls across the world who look up to our players as heroes and role models, and the millions of women whose lives have been blighted by violence and abuse."

"To the decision makers at the club, remember; this goes beyond football. This decision is a reflection of you, your morals; of who you are as individuals, and as humans. Will you stand with abusers, or with the abused? History will judge your choices. Make sure you choose well."

#manchester united #mufc

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madametrashbin · 1 year

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Brainrot? Brainrot... or Drabble. Idk

I’m alive! Sort of? Honkai: Star Rail has viciously grabbed my brain the second I saw it and now I have thoughts... and this is also because I got yanked in by the throat from both the silly content and beautiful artwork.

And if it wasn’t enough to nail a coffin to my grave, Tumblr dropped a post from @channelinglament (which is this post right here) and now my brain’s keeping me up with thoughts.

Not sure if I’ll have enough energy to spare for actual posts, but maybe with enough food for thought, I might actually make a piece or two... might. Due to HSR’s brand of silliness, it might just be Shenanigans the Fic.

The thing that gets to me the most is the highest of Aeons part, like... the Aeon of Aeons and you know, while I still know almost nothing about how Aeons come to be, what if there’s that one Entity that just exists and gives power that basically ascends whatever is sentient.

Of course the term “Aeon” would not be applied until numerous of the ascended beings are present and people are suddenly aware that there are these powerful beings in the universe now that can literally affect everything and bring about a permanent change to their livelihood. One moment the universe is all calm and normal and then here comes the Aeons. People do not know how to feel about them at first.

Naturally, there will always be the curious type of people who would try to search for the cause of it.

Pop in lil old You, just trying to help everyone you come across who look to be in desperate need power to be able to change their unfortunate circumstances. Too pure of heart, harmless mischief maker, just overall the sweetest entity with the power to turn anything into gods... yes, this is how beings like Qlipoth and Nous are born.

Now this gets me thinking that the Paths existed as one big, singular Path with you as the origin point and the ending point. When you gift a part of your power to someone/something, a piece of the path branches out of the main path but still remains connected to you... whether out of devotion or because it cannot exist without you is up in the air (your choice tbh).

The people/Aeons would just feel so grateful to be chosen, to be given so much power to do what they wished to change/do most... this was before they discovered there were others like them, doing things different from them that may clash with their ideals and suddenly there’s an all out war because each of the Aeons believed that the others were sullying your name by abusing your gifts.

(While the Dusk Wars are happening, you remain in ignorance to the wars because there are mortals that are calling for help and you just can’t look away from them.)

Eventually most of the Aeons are either killed off by each other (i.e, Tayzzyronth the Propagation) or assimilated into another Aeon (i.e Ena the Order), leaving a great many Paths masterless and fraying in shards, which suddenly starts to affect you badly and the poor Aeons who were just trying to do your name justice are panicking.

No one knows what happened, or what was happening to you, and when Akivili disappears/died, you disappear as well. Everyone is grieving, and there are no more new Aeons appearing anymore.

Thus you are assumed dead by the universe (this part came from another post that I can’t quite find ;-;) and later become forgotten just because... idk. Haven’t thought much past this.

Plot twist for the universe (not really a plot twist because there would be no story without the star of the show), you are not. You just got a bit (super) sleepy because the Paths that are masterless are without an ending point and therefore drains you because there is no one there to receive the power from the separated Path. You spent a lot of your energy mending the masterless Paths back to you which made you fall asleep by the time you were done.

When you wake back up is when the game starts, and being so out of touch with the timeline of the universe, you’re just one curious bean trying to figure out what’s going on.

No one can see you now though, which is just sad for you, but you realized they can sense you so you’re just doing your best to help them now. Kafka and Silver Wolf do not understand what’s going on except the strange warm and homely feeling that makes them feel invincible is suddenly there.

Also a mischief maker if the randomly destroyed property by the subtle urging is anything to go by... yeah, there’s something there.

Kafka and Silver Wolf feel oddly disappointed when the sensation leaves, but returns to Elio and mentions it to him. He then tells them that he may or may not have withheld information from them that an Aeon (the OG of Aeons) was going to be helping them. However they react is up to your thoughts... I haven’t thought of something for that part yet.

When MC (could be either) wakes up, the first thing they actually see is You... which makes you delighted because Yay, a friend to communicate with!. Neither March 7th nor Dan Heng could understand why the MC is talking to nothing, until they felt the warm and fuzzy presence nestled into them that they are suddenly aware that MC might be interacting with a higher existence that might be an Aeon.

They are naturally wary of you at first, but upon seeing the way MC interacts with you, doing some silly stuff by your apparent urging... they realized you’re pretty harmless and also very nice (in what way, also up in the air).

[Going back to the subject of other Aeons who are essentially your Emanators by all but name, they do not know you are alive until Nanook catches sight of you/felt your very real presence with the MC when the Doomsday Beast battle happens. They are very happy you’re back, but they’re very upset because why didn’t you tell them you were back? For what reason, you guys can think about it.

Anyways, you’ve got an Aeon stalking you and MC now, keeping a close eye on you especially because they nearly lost you once and would like it if you didn’t actually die this time. When MC starts getting acknowledged by more of the Aeons, more of them are also going to notice you too and then join Nanook with the stalking thing.

Eventually if they do find you in reality... well, that’s up to your imagination. It can also be a race between them and the mortals who start to see you physically too since you’re the sweetest existence to ever come into the universe and it’s a must to protect that innocence of yours (or for some other reason).

Also highly debating if Aeon!You would be either Aeon of Origin (the beginning of the Paths/the Origin of the Paths if going by this type of story) or Aeon of Guidance because of the in-game thing that we all do.]

Uhh... that’s all my brain can come up with here... so I shall see myself out now! ;D

#sahsr x reader #self aware au #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #I apologize to everyone who followed me for not doing anything here for a long time #lots of stuff happened #but also burned out #still burnt out to a crisp rn #especially with summer approaching over here #I don't do well being melted alive by the heat ;w;

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