#Prompt: Once in a Lifetime | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silverskyeline · 8 months ago

Text

'hunger' 18+

worst!wolverine x f!reader (3.9k words) summary: logan can't tear his mind away from the new barmaid at his usual haunt. he tries to resist you, he really does. but when you're both alone in the bathroom, he finds he's not the only one plagued with filthy thoughts. tags: for the 'longing' prompt for logan promptober, set in the bar from the movie, kind of angsty, filthy, pent up logan, alcohol consumption, doggy style, creampie, biting, light choking, pinning wrists, hair pulling, spanking, rough sex, implied age gap, sweet ending.

his usual haunts offer comfort, safe nests tucked away down isolated roads, usually requiring quite the drive to find - it's hard to find places where he's thought of as a stranger. no familiar faces, no conversation, no fuss. just logan, a bottle of whisky and time.

time spent staring into the grain of the old wood on the bar wondering how the fuck he ended up here. he'd stopped keeping count a long time ago, how long he'd been around, been alive. things get kind of hazy after two hundred years. logan had no reason to keep count.

until he saw you.

the bar was busy, as it normally was. he didn't mind it this way, less attention on him, less chances of someone trying to pick a fight with a specific stranger. not that they'd win, but logan had grown too tired for petty fights these days.

he's sat at the bar when the bartender clocks off, switching with someone new, someone he'd never seen before. you walk in and his eyes immediately scan your face, your build, your outfit. it's a habit of his, one he hoped he'd grow out of - but logan has learned that he'll never stop assessing for new threats. it's just in his dna.

but what he finds isn't a threat.

you're easy on the eyes, especially to these tired old hues that have grown accustomed to staring at the same old walls. he drags his eyes back down to his glass like he's forcing himself to look down the barrel of a gun rather than looking at you, before settling on you once more.

logan can't let himself look too much, he isn't allowed nice things, especially not pretty little things such as yourself. he's poison, tainting everything he touches, spoiling it. he's experienced enough heartbreak, enough losses for a lifetime and more.

. . . but what harm can looking do?

a few weeks pass, logan notices you're in every few nights from now on, must have been put on the regular rota. he wonders if you know most of the tips you receive by the end of the night are from him. you're diligent, you work hard, and you deserve more than the minimum wage you're probably getting.

you've never noticed him, or at least, he's never caught you looking in his direction. but he finds himself craving it, willing your eyes to meet his even for a second. the extent of your interactions have been sliding a glass or a bottle in his direction before continuing with your other duties.

it's not even lust on his mind either, he just finds himself captivated by your presence. he wonders about your life, your interests, your dreams. . . though he'd be lying if he said he'd never pictured bending you over against the bar and fucking you senseless.

he is an animal, after all.

he wonders if he should switch bars just to distance himself. he couldn't let himself become comfortable with the idea of you. relying on others was a weakness. besides, what would you be to him but just another person he'd lose someday? it wasn't worth it. you weren't worth it.

fuck.

logan curses himself under his breath for even having this internal debate. you were strangers, this was stupid, it was all fucking stupid. but the mind of a lonely old man is a desperate one, and what logan really craves isn't just eye candy. he craves a touch, that first touch that sparks electricity throughout your every nerve ending, causes goosebumps to ripple along the skins surface. he craves something, anything.

he was so fucking hungry. always so fucking hungry. a rumbling hunger that starts at the pit of his stomach and gnaws through him like a rabid animal frantically trying to escape a suffocating metal cage. it's a hunger he can't satisfy, he knows he can't satisfy. but he'd been alone so long.

surely one bite couldn't hurt?

no, he finds himself shaking his head as he stands from the bar. he'd take a leak, and leave early. it'd only been a month since he first saw you, he could get over this. switching bars wasn't particularly appealing to him, but it was better than having to look at you and feel that familiar ache.

the bathroom door swings open and he walks inside, situating himself at one of the urinals. a few moments later, the door swings open again, logan doesn't bother to look over.

"oh, thought these were empty, sorry."

his head turns quickly. it's you, mop in hand. there's an uncomfortable silence that follows.

speak, fucking speak. "it's fine."

you pause, then nod a little and begin mopping the floor.

his eyes are back on the urinal, swallowing hard. was this really going to be your first conversation? with his eyes glaring into old porcelain, dick in his hand? he tries not to picture you stealing glances at him, but he can't help it. is that what he wants?

maybe.

finishing up, he quickly makes his way over to the sinks, pushing his hands under the cool water and rubbing with soap. his eyes flit up to the mirror. and he catches you.

your eyes lock on one another for just a split second before you quickly busy yourself with the mop again.

but that split second was enough. it was enough to notice how you were looking at him.

"all done," you say with a sigh after a few moments, standing straight and gripping the mop but making no effort to leave just yet.

logan eyes you in the mirror, watches how your eyes dance across the room before inevitably landing on him again. he turns to face you, noting the distance between you both in the room.

you lean back against the bathroom stall divider, eyes drifting across logan's figure. he was tall, big. this is the first time you're really able to look at him, to study the features of his face. this time he's not hiding behind a glass or a bottle.

the hunger in his gaze is obvious, but it's dulled, like he's just barely holding back. you think he looks lonely, there's a distinct air about him that practically screams that he needs to be touched.

you rest your mop against the wall, "you're in here often." you state, it's not a question.

"guess i'm a regular," he replies curtly.

swallowing hard, you continue, "i noticed. i always have to restock the whisky when you come by."

logan pushes himself from the sink and approaches you slowly. was he really doing this? after a month of pining and longing for you, a stranger in a bar, was he really going to give in to his desires? would you let him? the lust was clear in your eyes and he knew he was reflecting it right back tenfold.

"i like a drink." he says with a subtle shrug, just a step away now, eyes never leaving yours.

a small smile tugs at your lips, "i know."

you're not sure what you're really doing. you're supposed to be on shift, designated five minutes to clean the bathrooms. five minutes you'd much rather spend doing someone something else.

you eye the stranger who's been watching you, tipping you. of course you've noticed, you'd have to be pretty stupid or oblivious not to. you've come to expect him at each shift, but his presence intrigued you more than the other regulars. not just because he was more handsome, considerably more handsome.

no, it was those sad eyes that seemed to say a million words while his mouth remained firmly shut that had you curious. even now as he stands before you so silent you could hear a pin drop, when you look into his eyes you can feel a sea of words brewing.

oh how you wanted to open him up, to peer inside behind that rough exterior, to take a peek behind the facade. you're sure you're easier to read than he is.

you're not sure when or how it happened, but he's right in front of you now, his body almost touching yours. you look up at him with a feigned innocent look.

"i've seen you, you know," you mumble bravely, "looking at me."

logan doesn't seem surprised, he brings a hand up to hold your chin, turning your face from side to side to get a proper look at you now that he has you up close. "yeah?"

"yeah," you reply shakily, "thought i was imagining it at first. but by the second night it was obvious."

he smirks, so he's not as subtle as he thinks.

your hands snake down, finding his belt buckle and brazingly begin to unbuckle it. he watches you, eyes fixated on the way your fingers move. he swears he's about to start drooling. but then you move, hands winding up to the buttons on his shirt. you splay your hands across the fabric, eyes widening when you feel what's underneath.

"are you. . . is that-"

logan grips your wrists, not the suit. he wasn't talking about that now, he had to shut you up. he leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as his strong hands keep a firm grip on your wrists. you submit, leaning back against the cubicle divider as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth.

he moans, relishing the taste of you, the taste he's thought about for so fucking long. he brings your hands up, pinning them above your head, shifting his grip so one hand easily pins your wrists, leaving his other hand free.

his free hand plants firmly across your upper chest, the rough pads of his fingers brushing against your collarbone as he explores your mouth with his tongue. you're lost in the sensation, knees going weak as you allow the older man to have his way with you. he needs this, you know it.

"taste so fuckin' sweet," he mumbles against your lips, kissing you between words, "you do this often? let men kiss you in the bathroom?"

you mumble a 'no' under your breath, ". . . just the ones who tip good," you grin.

logan feels himself chuckling, biting your lower lip. oh, he liked you. his hand travels upwards, finding purchase around your neck. you gasp in response, moaning. he eagerly swallows your moan with his mouth, drowning out any sound that threatens to escape.

the kiss grows in intensity, you wonder how long it's been since he's kissed someone. he kisses you like a man starved, like he'd devour you if you let him. and you would, you think, if it felt this good.

his hand on your neck gives a gentle squeeze before running down your torso, palming at your jeans suddenly. you try to whimper in pleasure, but he's silencing you with his lips again.

"shhh, shhh," he whispers against your lips, "feel good? i know it feels good, but you gotta stay nice and quiet." logan can feel the material of your jeans begin to damp and he resists the urge to growl, feeling the way the fabric beneath gives way.

you nod, whispering small affirmatives as he touches you through the material. "just give me more," you whine.

and that spurs him on. in a flash he's pushing you into the stall, stealing a few more kisses where he can before he turns you, pushing your back against his chest. his lips find your neck, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses along the skin he finds there.

you're like putty in his hands, melting back against him as his hand returns to your crotch, rough hands massaging circles against your clothed core. you resist a moan, exhaling shakily instead as you let him use you.

"you wanted this just as much as i did, huh?" he growls into your ear, "need it, need me to fuck you."

you nod quickly as you feel his lips curve into a smirk against your skin.

"yeah, thought so," he nibbles on your earlobe, breathing deeply through his nose as he tries to steady himself, preserve the moment. but how can he when you feel this good beneath his fingers, taste this good on his tongue? "tell me you want it."

"want you to fuck me," you whimper almost immediately, suddenly feeling so very needy. there's a hot ache growing between your legs, one you're desperate for him to fill.

logan laughs, "you can do better than that, honey, know you can."

"please," your voice cracks and you swallow back moans as you squirm beneath his touch, "please fuck me-" it becomes apparent to you at that moment that you don't even know his name. your cheeks flush at the thought of letting this stranger, this older man fuck you in the bar bathroom, but actually, you kind of like it that way.

he nods against the side of your cheek, his stubble scratching against your soft skin, "there we go, attagirl. . ."

with that, he pushes you forward, forcing your hands onto the tank of the toilet to support yourself as he bends you over. his hands find your waist, his hips connecting with yours and slowly grinding his very apparent, large bulge against you.

you let out a whimper, arching your back a little at the sudden contact.

"feel that?" he mumbles, guiding your hips to grind back against him, "feel what you do to me?"

a gasp, "fuck, you're big." you can already tell, the way his bulge is pressing against you, demanding to be felt. you swear you can almost feel it throb through the material.

"yeah i am," logan smirks, he knows he's big, and he knows exactly how to use it.

pulling back slightly, he roughly pulls your jeans down, practically manhandling you, your underwear disappearing with it. he grabs handfuls of your ass before kneading the skin. "look at that, pretty little ass, all for me."

you just have time to gasp before you feel one of his hands connect harshly with your skin, the sound ringing out in the small bathroom of the bar. "f-fuck!" you whine, feeling the sharp sting, knowing there's a bright red imprint in the shape of his large palm on your ass.

there's some jingling, the sound of his belt being moved out of the way, a zipper. you prepare yourself, or at least you try to, but his cock is already slapping against your backside before you have time to steady your hazy mind.

"you gonna take all of me?" he asks, biting his lip as his aching length slaps against your skin, "think you can?"

you nod quickly, looking over your shoulder at him, "mhm!"

"if you say so. . ." he smirks and positions himself, one hand on your hip and one aiming his cock at your tight little hole.

then, all at once he's sinking in. you gasp, he gasps. and fuck, he is big. you feel that sweet stretch, his cock throbbing against your tight walls as it slowly glides inside. you're whining as it slowly fills you, eyes rolling back at the sensation. but he pulls out a little, only to push back in again.

he's working you up just right, mesmerised by the way you take his cock. his eyes are fixed on your tight hole begging him to enter, loving the slick sound as it pushes inside.

"you've been thinkin' about this since you started your shift," logan says confidently, his words confirmed by how you drip around him, "thought about me fillin' you up, nice and full?"

despite the way your cheeks flush bright red, you can't deny it. you've thought about it more than once, fantasised about it in bed, hoping that one day that stranger from the bar would fuck you so good you forget your own name.

you don't need to reply either, because he knows. he knows from the way your wet hole flutters around him, and fuck does it make him harder to know that you've thought about this just as much as he has. he begins to pump into you at a leisurely pace, firm hands on your hips.

"holy fuck, so fuckin' tight," logan grumbles, his deep slow strokes hitting you deep as he bottoms out inside of you.

you try to turn your head, to look up at him, but he grasps the back of your hair, pushing your head down. "nu-uh, keep that head down."

he knows if he lets you look at him, look up at him for too long, he'll lose it. he can't have your soft eyes on him while he fucks you, he doesn't deserve it. he'll take you, just like this, with your head down and your ass up and his cock buried deep inside you.

because he can't describe the shame that swirls in his stomach, that this is how he relieves himself, a quick fuck in a bar. this dirty older man who's seen so much sin, perpetuated sin with his own hands, who longed for the young pretty little thing in the bar. logan doesn't deserve nice things, this he knows.

you feel his thrusts grow rougher, your legs slipping apart as you attempt to hold yourself up, hands planted firmly on the tank of the toilet. you're squeaking softly with each pump, feeling him use you to release his pent-up frustrations. and it felt so fucking good.

with his firm grip on your hair tightening by the second and his other large hand digging into your hip, you begin to bounce back against his motions, sending him even deeper. you both moan in sync with the feeling and you pant softly, cheeks flushing further at the soft 'plap plap plap' of his hips connecting with you, the sound reverberating around the small cubicle.

"that feels so fucking good," you sing, closing your eyes. logan gives a particularly hard thrust, speed picking up. you can't help but smirk, mouth stuck open as you moan softly, he likes it when you talk to him during, huh? "keep fuckin' me, just like that, so good. . ."

he groans, wrapping your hair around his fist as he relentlessly pounds into you. harder and harder, deeper and deeper, you're sure you'll have bruises littered over your body before the day is through.

"harder!" you cry, feeling your legs tremble. you're not gonna last long like this, and by the way his cock is twitching inside of you, he isn't either. "i'm gonna cum, you're gonna make me fuckin' cum!"

another groan slips from his lips, gritting his teeth as he uses you, watching you take his throbbing cock beneath him. "look so pretty like this, bent over, takin' what i fuckin- shit. . . takin' what i give you."

your body grows hotter, sweat forming on your forehead, each impact pushing you forward roughly. you're really not gonna last long.

he begins to hunch over, his chest flush with your back as he huffs against your neck, fucking you like a rabid animal. you're squealing now, the pleasure swirling in your lower stomach, threatening to send you crashing into bliss. at this point, you don't fucking care if someone walks in and finds you like this, sees his feet planted behind yours underneath the stall. in fact, the thought of the risk sends a bolt straight to your gut.

"yes yes yes," you mutter, feeling your orgasm approaching steadily. you swear you can feel him in your guts. you begin to flutter around him, begging for release, knowing it's going to completely destroy you.

logan can't even form words, just grunts slipping from his lips against the side of your neck. and then he feels it, his cock twitches, his mind reeling with the imminent release. he needs this, oh he fucking needs this.

he bites down on your neck, teeth sinking in slightly as he feels himself release deep inside you, his cum spilling out in strong waves. you feel your knees buckle, but a strong hand planted on your tummy helps keep you upright as he fucks his release deeper into you.

the animalistic nature of his thrusts combined with the sensation of his hot cum painting your insides sends you flying over the edge, your orgasm milking him as you clamp around his aching cock. he slams his hand against the stall wall with a loud metallic bang, splaying his fingers across the metal as if to ground himself as his thrusts falter.

his tongue lazily licks the indents of his bite mark against your neck, groans easing their way from the back of his throat. you can hardly catch your breath, legs still shaking from such an intense release. it's hard to think straight with his dick still buried deep inside, feeling it twitch with every aftershock.

you both stay like that for a solid minute, panting, coming down together. he's planting soft kisses along your neck as your breath slowly comes back to you.

he pulls out, stepping back as he stuffs himself into his jeans. you collapse onto the toilet seat, shakily pulling your jeans and underwear back up as you look up at him. it's clear he's looking to leave, a distant look in his eye, maybe a little shame creeping into his features.

standing on trembling legs, you lean up, giving him a surprisingly soft kiss. your hands take over his, helping him back into his jeans, zipping them up, clasping the buttons together and buckling his belt. all the while your lips are on his, slowly, passionately intertwining together.

you pull back, buttoning your own jeans as you continue to look up at him. ". . . does that count as your tip for the night?" you joke with a smirk, hoping to see a flash of his smile again, hoping to alleviate some of that shame he's carrying.

and there it is, a small smirk on his lips as he glances away. "maybe."

the shame seems to settle, begins to dissipate. it feels less like satisfying an urge and more like. . . exploring something new. his eyes drift back to you.

"i'll see you tomorrow?" you ask, tilting your head.

he blinks, suddenly remembering time exists outside this small space seemingly crafted just for the two of you. "yeah," he says, quietly.

"good," you pat his chest before moving past him, leaving the stall. you stand, looking back at him. a beat, "or, you can meet me after my shift ends?"

his eyes widen, taken aback. fuck, had he forgotten how to do this? his eyes flit to the side, before making up his mind. he gives a firm nod.

you smile before leaving him in the bathroom, returning to the bar through the door.

logan stands there for a few moments, running his fingers through his hair. he smooths down his shirt, feeling the suit beneath, a stark reminder always of his past.

but maybe he could begin to take a few steps forward. maybe he deserves more than to suffer forever, forced to keep everyone at arm's length. maybe he could allow himself this small happiness, a date, or whatever this was.

maybe it was time to satisfy his hunger, his loneliness, for good.

2K notes · View notes

dreamersparacosm · 2 months ago

Text

𐙚₊˚⊹ flustered!jk and cheeky!reader 𐙚₊˚⊹

warnings ; talk of sexual activity, reader is flirty as hell

prompt ; in which you give him the proposition of a lifetime.

“You ever gotten road head before?”

And that’s a lot for Jungkook on a Friday night at 2 a.m.

The words leave your mouth like a drunken dare. Slurred just enough to qualify as inadmissible in court, but sharp enough to slice through the silence in his beat up Honda Civic.

He chokes on absolutely nothing — just air, his own saliva, probably the weight of existing too —and the car swerves slightly in response. His knuckles go white on the steering wheel, eyes flicking to you with full-body panic.

“What?” he manages, but it comes out like he swallowed the question halfway down his throat.

You bite your lip, grinning like the brat you are. “You heard me.”

He looks back to the road like it personally offended him, jaw locked, ears turning that very specific shade of holy shit she’s serious pink.

This is fun. Dangerous, maybe. But fun.

You’re curled up in the passenger seat, legs folded under you, a little too buzzed and warm, thanks to whatever was in that last green tea shot. Your dress is bunched high on your thighs, and his hoodie, stolen sometime around drink three, is drowning your frame. You look casual. But your heart is punching the inside of your ribs like it’s trying to break parole.

“I’m just saying,” you continue, tilting your head, “you drive like someone who hasn’t.”

He sputters. “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” you hum, stretching like a cat in the front seat, “you’re so tense. Both hands on the wheel. Ten and two. Obeying the speed limit like it’s a religion.”

“I—” he blinks rapidly, glancing at you again before darting his eyes back to the road. “I’m being safe. You’re drunk. I’m driving you home. Can you say… You’re welcome?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t grateful,” you tease, smirking now. “I just think you’re overdue for a little character development.”

Jungkook exhales through his nose like he’s been victimized by your words. His grip tightens on the steering wheel, considering it’s the last thing tethering him to sanity. The curve of his jaw flexes under the fluorescent wash of a passing streetlight, and you wonder if he’s actually angry or just short-circuiting.

Probably the latter.

You lean in just a little. Not enough to do anything stupid.

“C’mon,” you say softly, voice lilting, teasing. “Never? Not even once?”

He gulps audibly. You watch the movement of his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “No,” he mutters. “Jesus.”

“Wow,” you say, dragging the word out like sin. “So pure.”

“I’m not—”He shuts his mouth. You watch his knuckles flex again. “That’s not… God.”

You bite your cheek to stifle a laugh. This is better than expected. You’ve been harboring this tiny, stupid crush on him for months. Jungkook with his pretty mouth and shy eyes, always tripping over his own feet around you like you’re some kind of asteroid crashing into his orbit. And now? You’ve finally caught him mid-spin.

He clears his throat. “You’re so drunk.”

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

“Stop it.”

And maybe you should stop. Maybe you should let him keep his sweet-boy dignity and drop it, but… where’s the fun in that?

“You didn’t say you didn’t want it,” you reply, the grin blooming slow and wicked across your lips. “Just that it’s never happened.”

The car turns down your street mercifully. You see his shoulders rise and fall with the tension of someone who is praying for deliverance. Or a flat tire. Or spontaneous combustion.

He parks, throws the car in front of your building a little too aggressively, and finally looks at you. His voice is low when he says, “Get out of the car before I say yes.”

You blink. Smile fades just a fraction.

Oh.

So he has a mouth on him too.

You unbuckle slowly, heartbeat in your ears, and open the passenger door. But just before stepping out, you glance over your shoulder.

“Next time, Jungkook,” you murmur, lips quirking. “Hands at nine and three. You’ll need the leverage.”

And then you’re gone, vanishing into the night like a drunken menace, leaving him alone in the driver’s seat, still clutching the wheel like it just changed his life.

part two!

#l o l #idk what this is #????#I just drink wine and think of giving jungkookie road head #so that’s how this came to be #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #should I write a part two where reader actually does it #who said dat

549 notes · View notes

pukefactory · 2 months ago

Note

I was reading through your ENA writings, and I was wondering: Would you do headcanons or stories for a more angsty prompt? I was wondering how ENA might navigate the downs of a relationship. 'Cause like, ENA literally has a part of herself called her "meanie side". She'd definitely say something she regrets at some point. Doesn't help that she probably hasn't had very many relationships of this type.

Could you write some headcanons for what happens if ENA's meanie side says something... well, really mean, and how she navigates the aftermath of driving her partner to tears?

It's fine if not! That definitely seems to be a little outside the general vibe with these. Plus, I even have some ideas of my own for this, too!

(For example, maybe her partner gains a bit of a phobia of her meanie side's voice, so she forcefully tries to change it into her more friendly-sounding salesperson voice, but that's really hard because it seems like her meanie side talks when she's distressed in general, like her PTSD-like response to the vending machine refusing to sell her stuff, or when Froggy calls her when she arrives at the Purge event.)

Sorry, you're making my own creative gears whirl, lol! All that to say, it's cool if you'd rather do more wholesome stuff.

•☽────✧˖°˖ I DON’T KNOW HOW TO LOVE ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation of Headcanons Featuring Salesperson Ena Trying To Make Up To The Reader After Saying Something Hurtful

★ Character(s): Salesperson Ena (Ena: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ The words are out before she even processes them. Ena’s Meanie side, fueled by frustration, sharpens her tongue like a blade, and the moment your face crumples, her geometric form glitches. “Oh… Oh, WAIT.” The red side is already scrambling to take control, but the damage is done. A hard swallow, a glitchy stammer, and her face flickers between a grimace and a forced salesman’s grin. “A-alright, that was a limited-time offer of cruelty—uh, poorly advertised, terrible customer service. I’d like to issue an immediate recall—”

☆ The realization sends her into a spiral. She grips her hat, her polygons jagged, her expression contorting between stiff remorse and an agonized smirk. “No-no-no-no-no, I-I, um—LOOK OVER THERE!” (There’s nothing there.) “Uh, NO NEED TO CRY, HAH, IT WAS A JOKE! …A bad one, really bad, I mean, did you get it? No? Not funny? Oh. Ohhh, geez.” Her hands wave wildly, like trying to physically catch her mistake midair, but all she’s doing is digging the hole deeper.

☆ The Salesperson side desperately tries to salvage the situation, slipping into her usual corporate babble as if she can sell her way out of emotional devastation. “I have an INCREDIBLE deal for you today! A fantastic, once-in-a-lifetime, super-duper-special ‘I’m Sorry’ package! It comes with—uh—regret! Profound self-loathing! A, uh, complete reimbursement of all emotional damages! Act now and receive bonus guilt!” She grips her hat. “That… that didn’t help, did it.”

☆ The Meanie side hunches forward, knees drawn to her chest, voice quieter now, almost trembling. “I—I didn’t mean it like that…” The weight of the moment presses down on her, cracks spiderwebbing along her skin. “I say stupid things. Mean things. I-I don’t even think before I—” She hiccups, trying to contain the mess of static in her chest. “I just wanted to be heard. Not… not this.”

☆ The second you leave, the performance is over. No business chatter, no outbursts—just silence. Ena folds in on herself, static fizzing at her edges. Her polygons warp and distort, a physical manifestation of regret. She hugs herself, claws digging into her polygonal sleeves, whispering, “That was so, so stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” The word repeats until it’s nothing but glitchy noise.

☆ Ena isn’t great at this. She tries every trick in her book—witty remarks, elaborate business metaphors, even writing an entire jingle about how sorry she is (it’s terrible). But when all else fails, she just slumps forward, hands clasped, voice trembling between glitchy laughter and something achingly real. “I really don’t want to lose you. Not over my dumb mouth. Not over me.”

☆ She leaves gifts that make zero sense—a business card that just says “SORRY” in bold letters, a rock painted like a sad face, an actual coupon that reads, “Redeem this for one (1) unfiltered Ena sincerity session.” Eventually, she just shows up, staring, fingers twitching. “So, uh… did you use the coupon yet?” A pause. “I-It’s refundable.”

☆ Eventually, she cracks. Underneath the layers of glitchy bravado, underneath the business-talk deflections, she’s just… scared. “I don’t… I don’t know how to do this right,” she admits, voice warping between pitches. “I don’t know how to be—uh—soft. Or gentle. Or—consistently good. I just—” She wrings her hands. “I never meant to hurt you. But I did. And that—it—it sucks. And I suck. And I wanna—fix it. If—if you let me.”

☆ The Meanie side knows she’s the problem. Always the one who pushes too hard, who says the wrong thing. What if this is the time she can’t fix it? What if she just… loses you? That thought alone is enough to crack her voice into something unsteady, her edges blurred with static. “You… you don’t have to forgive me,” she murmurs. “But I—I really hope you do.”

☆ When you finally—finally—lean into her, still sniffling but not leaving, Ena’s entire form stabilizes. No more warping polygons, no more distortion. Just a deep, shaky exhale. “Okay,” she whispers, almost afraid to move. “Okay. This is still a disaster. But, uh… I think I can work with ‘disaster’ better than ‘gone.’” A small, wobbly grin. “Let’s… let’s fix this together, yeah?”

719 notes · View notes

nerdygirlramblings · 5 months ago

Text

omegaverse 141

a/n part of this once again inspired by @dragonnarrative-writes and their comment on a previous chapter. also, if you have ideas for a title, that'd be great 😂

cw: a/b/o dynamics and typical omegaverse breeding (m! and f! omegas can get pregnant) mentioned

In the interim between your meeting with Captain Price and dinner with the task force you call your family pack. You know your moms and dad will give you their honest opinions, and right now you want that more than anything.

"Hey pretty girl," Dad says when he picks up the video call. "Everything okay? You usually don't call on a weekday unless we've planned it." For a moment you simply take in his smile and the way he's trying to reassure you.

You deflect. "How are you feeling, Dad?" He's carrying another litter, and after losing the last two, you know how important it is to everyone that this one is successful.

"Your moms have pretty much put me on bed rest," he says, rolling his eyes. "But you called us, honey, what's going on?"

You sigh. This is what you called them for. "Well, I wanted your opinion on something," you tell him.

"Just my opinion, or do you want the moms' too?"

You tell him you want everyone's opinion, so he moves through your childhood home to where your moms are, each room he passes drawing forth another bittersweet memory that has you missing him and your pack even more.

He finds your moms in your childhood bedroom, being transformed into a nursery, again. He sits on the rocking chair you remember, the one that floated between the three kids' bedrooms each time there was a new litter. Once your moms are standing behind Dad, you tell everyone about the offer to join Price's task force, and by extension his pack.

The more you tell them, the more your mind snags on how appealing being part of a pack is. But you can't help but be scared of the implications of that desire. Despite how Price laid things out, it's going to be hard enough to prove you're worthy of being on the 141, and if you become part of their pack, you'll never escape the talk about sleeping your way on the task force.

Your parents can tell your mind is somewhere else when you hear Mum insert your name into Bowie's "Space Oddity."

"Sorry, Mum. Wha' was i'?"

"I was just saying this - the task force, I mean - sounds like a great career opportunity. But I can't abide how much more danger this puts you in."

Mama adds, "Sounds like this alpha knew how to broach this. Didn't cock it up. And I agree with Mum, this is much more dangerous than what yer doing now. But sweetie, ya didn't see yerself when ya talked about what this would mean ta ya. And what doors it might open for other omegas like your brother."

You tear up. Both your moms see this for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity it is. You notice no one's mentioned the other half of Price's offer. "Dad?" you prompt, "Wha' da you think?"

Dad watches you for a few minutes, smiling but sad: you can see it in his eyes. "I think you need to say yes, honey. Even if it scares us more, i's the right thing fer you." Your moms don't chime in; they don't need to. But you need want their thoughts on becoming a pack omega, Dad's in particular.

"And the other part?" you ask quietly, looking away.

"Honey, becoming pack omega fer yor moms was one of the hardest and easiest decisions I ever made. I love yer moms," you watch their faces through his declaration, both putting a comforting hand somewhere on him, "and they gave me all of you pups. If Price is as good an alpha as he is a Captain, if 'e's a guiding hand for his pack, then you couldn't have a better mate. In the end, trust your omega."

And that's the crux of the matter isn't it. Your omega has been scratching at your hind brain all afternoon because she wants to take Price up on both offers as soon as possible, but you need to be smart about optics and your career.

You tell your parents you love them and thank them for their honesty, promising to tell them what you decide before the ink dries. You end the call with a few minutes to spare before dinner and take that time to pull your emotions together.

series masterlist | main masterlist

#cod #poly!141 #poly!141 x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #omegaverse #omegaverse 141 #omegaverse tf 141 #a/b/o #a/b/o 141 #a/b/o tf 141 #john price #kyle garrick #johnny mactavish #simon riley #nerdygirl says #fierce wars and faithful loves

1K notes · View notes

mcsstydia · 10 months ago

Text

Faking it - Finnick Odair

prompt: you won the hunger games, now snow forces you to sell your body. your mentor, finnick odair, proposes the both of you fake a relationship so the capitol citizens won’t be interested in you anymore.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

Warnings: mentions of forced sexual labor

word count: 2.2k

Masterlist

You won the hunger games. After weeks of fighting to survive, of hiding, of pure fright, of killing children who were not much older than you, you won the games. Now, a lifetime of glory and wealth awaited you, right?

You could have never been more wrong. You could have guessed that there was a flaw to what was promised to you. Sometimes, before and also after the games, your mentor, finnick odair, would look at you with a kind of concealed sadness, as if he knew there was something just as bad as the games would wait for you once you survived.

Finnick was 19, only two years older than you, but you had a feeling sometimes you could see in his eyes he had already endured a lifetime worth of pain. Turns out, your feeling was right about the amount of pain his heart had to carry.

Two months after you've won the games, when you've returned home, on a late Wednesday afternoon, Finnick rang the bell at your new house in the victor village. As you opened the door, you were unexpectedly greeted with the handsome man that was Finnick Odair. You had had a crush on him for forever, and it had only intensified during the time where he was your mentor.

Your stomach began to turn in nervous circles. Why was he here? Did he come to see you? Spend time with you even? Wait, that was not it. You could see it in his face. You were good at reading him.

His gaze rose from where it had been previously fixed on the ground to meet yours. There it was again, that sadness. ''What happened?'', you asked, scared it had to do with your mother, who was out of the house for the evening. ''Your mother is alright.'', Finnick said calmly, as if having read your mind.

You visibly relaxed and exhaled. Nonetheless, your grip around the edge of the door did not loosen. ''Then what it is?'', you asked anxiously, trying to seem collected, composed. But Finnick knew you almost as well as you did him.

''Can I come inside?'', he asked in turn. You nodded silently, your body began buzzing with anxiety. The pleasant turns your stomach initially performed upon seeing Finnick had now turned into unpleasant ones. Finnick headed for your living room and you followed him blindly. He pulled up an armchair and gestured you to take place on the couch. He placed the armchair so it was right in front of the couch. Both of you sat down, and then he gently took both of your hands into his large, warm ones.

This is how bad it was? Normally, you would jump in the air at the touch of his hands on your skin. Now, you could feel the colour draining from your face and the warmth leaving your hands in dread of what was to come.

''Just tell me'', you demanded. You knew he would search for the best way to tell you, to somehow sugar-coat it. Finnick looked at you, and you knew he could see in your eyes that this was what you needed.

''Snow sells the good-looking winners to the citizens of the capitol. At least their body. And now he wants to sell you.'', he said. For a moment, the information had to sink in. Then, you could feel the remaining control you had had over your facial muscles seep away. All expression fell from your face, your eyes made no effort to conceal the tears that came flooding in, and your hands began shaking in the gentle hold Finnick had on them.

His grip around your hands strenghtened, but stayed gentle. ''No…'', you managed to breath out, shaking your head in disbelief. You could feel all the strength leaving your body. Finnick seemed to notice, or he had anticipated it, because he caught your head as it fell toward him, his hands gently cupping the sides of your face. A thought came to your mind about the person you cared most for in this world. In between ragged breaths, you managed to ask ''Did he do it to you?'' The look in his eyes was all you needed to know it was true.

Loud, ugly sobs escaped your lips and you made no effort to hide them. Finnick made no effort to calm you, he knew there was no point in telling you it was all going to be okay. ''I've got you,'', he whispered into single strands of hair, your head still in his hands.

He rocked your body back and forth in an attempt to tell you he was there, and he wouldn't leave. He had begun to do that on the first night after your name was drawn for the games. You had been in the train on your way to the capitol, as he found you on the floor, weeping. He held you the whole night, until you had finally managed to fall asleep. He had rocked you gently, had promised to get you out of the arena alive.

At this point, you had thought he would tell that to every young girl he would mentor. Now, you came to the tentative conclusion that you meant something to him.

Suddenly, he whispered, ''I have a plan,''. The sentence brought you back to reality. His hands never leaving your face, you managed to lift your head just so much as to be able to look in his eyes. His beautiful face was blurred by the tears still in your eyes, and by your already-swollen eyelids. He looked at you with concern, and care, and suddenly you knew you were anything to him but simply another tribute he had to mentor.

You realised you were more than important to him. His next sentences only proved how much you meant to him. ''I won't let him do that to you,'', he began, wiping away one of your tears with his thumb. You could also see fear in his eyes, but it was fear for your wellbeing, for your life.

''It's risky,'', he continued and breathed in. ''But I would risk it, for you.'', a deeper meaning of his words hung in the air, but it was not important now. ''If we fake to be in a relationship, Snow can't sell you. The capitol citizens would then never want to tear us apart.'', he explained. His word registered in your head, and the word fake sent a painful, but quickly fading, stab into your chest.

''Would they believe it?'', you asked. Finnick allowed himself to smile, and his fingers carressed your cheeks. You thought you could read him well, but you weren't so sure now. His expression screamed 'of course they'll believe us, look at how in love I am with you', but he couldn't really think that. He couldn't. You would know if he had feelings for you, and you were sure he did not.

Something brought him back from his thoughts into the situation. So he said, ''I hope they do. That's why I said it's risky. If they do not believe it, if Snow does not believe it, we would be in a lot of trouble.'' You pressed your lips together, and then nodded. ''Why would you do that for me?'', you asked, and then imeediately wanted to take the question back.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. ''Because I care about you.'', he whispered, holding your gaze. ''Once we do this,'', he continued. ''there's no going back. It will be us against the world, probably until we die. Do you realize that?'', he asked.

For once, you hoped he could not read your face, or your thoughts for that matter. Did you realize that? Yes. Was it scary? Of course. But was it scary because that meant you had to spend the rest of your life with him? No. That was the only part of this whole thing that sounded like heaven. Instead of telling him any of this, you nodded as an answer.

The next weeks Finnick and you prepared your 'relationship'. You got to know each other better, to make it seem as realistic as possible that you were in love. Many nights were spent like this, quietly, so as even your mother would not know. Many nights ended with your head in his lap, with his fingers running through your hair. Many nights, in which the both of you fell asleep on your couch, or in his bed, all the while holding on to each other.

When your victory tour began, while visiting the districts, you made apparent that you were a couple. Word quickly got out about the new power couple of victors. On the nights on the train, Finnick often lay next to you, to hold you through your cries. It was agonizing to visit the districts of the children who died in the games you were a part of.

Your new relationship was so important to the capitol citizens, that, once in the capitol, both finnick and you were invited to Ceasar Flickerman's show. So you sat there, with Finnick next you, his hand in yours. You had gotten used to the pleasant feeling that was ilicited whenever he touched you. You had gotten used to having him near, so it was not hard to appear happy next to him. It had never been, though.

The people loved you. Everyone adored the two of you together. So much so, that president Snow let go of forcing you into selling your body to the citizens of the capitol. For now.

For now, you were on your way back home from the capitol to district 4. For now, there was the slight hope that things would stay that way, and it was all thanks to Finnick. On this first night on your way back home, you hadn't asked Finnick to come into your room. He had spent the night next to you for the whole of the victory tour, calming you down, holding you when you cried.

But now? You thought Finnick was tired of taking care of you every night. You thought Finnick deserved a night to himself. After all, he wouldn't get many of those anymore that you were in a 'relationship' with him. So you lay there, on your bed, your hands neatly folded on your stomach, your thoughts almost as loud as the train on the tracks. When the doors to your compartment opened, you sat up in your bed, startled and scared. It was only when you saw that it was Finnick who entered, that you relaxed again. Somewhy, you stood up from your bed out of reflex. Finnick looked agitated, and for a moment you feared he brought bad news again. His mouth stood slightly agape, he was breathing heavily, and his eyes frantically scanned your body.

''I don't want to sleep without you,'', he suddenly blurted out. Shock was an understatement. You couldn't help yourself. ''What?'', you brought out as an answer.

The usually calm, confident Finnick he could so easily present himself as for the cameras was nowhere to be seen. He seemed scared, agitated, and lost all at once. ''I-..'', he began tentatively, and took a step toward you.

''I don't want to sleep without you. I don't want to, and I can't, for that matter, when you are not next to me, when I don't know you're safe, when I cannot feel your body next to mine.'' Although he obviusly tried to explain himself, you were no smarter than before.

Finnick could see that you were not sure what he was trying to tell you. He took a few steps until he stood directly in front of you. He took your face into his hands. ''This,'', he continued, gesturing to the two of you. ''It was never fake to me. I never wanted it to be fake. I love you. I have loved you for a long, long time, and I plan on doing it for the rest of my life.'', finally, he seemed to exhale of what seemed to have been a breath he had held for a long time.

Tears began pooling in your eyes. And for the first time in a long time, they were tears of happiness. ''Oh Finnick Odair, are you really so blind as to think I ever wanted it to be fake? I am madly in love with you.'', you finally confessed, and a grin so wide he had never managed to fake for the cameras spread across his lips.

''And now, kiss me, please,'', to any other person, this would have sounded like begging. But it was Finnick, and it was you, and you were both so madly in love nothing else mattered.

So Finnick did what you asked him to do. Slowly, he leaned down, and let his lips brush against yours. After that, it was instant. You both were so hungry for each other, so desperate to finally be able to touch each other in a way you had only dreamed of.

Hands were tangled in hair, and roamed the body of the other. Your lips and teeth clashed against one another, but the kissing erupted feelings in your stomach, and heart, and the whole body, really, that you had never thought could exist. When you broke apart, the both of you giggled, caressed each other's skin, and placed delicate kisses here and there.

That night, you fell asleep in each other's arms again, kissing, holding each other. For the first time in a long time, you weren't scared of the future, because you knew either way, you would spend it with Finnick.

#thg #finnick odair #finnick odair thg #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x you #sam claflin #sam claflin imagine #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark #peeta mellark imagine #finnick odair fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

mcflymemes · 2 months ago

Text

PROMPTS FROM THE HUNGER GAMES: CATCHING FIRE * assorted dialogue from the 2013 film, adjust as necessary

if you die, and i live, i'd have nothing. nobody else that i care about.

it's different for you. your family needs you.

you have to live. for them.

nobody needs me.

i do. i need you.

how does that sound?

what if we set your backyard on fire?

he can't hurt me. there's no one left that i love.

remember who the real enemy is.

we got married... in secret.

we want our love to be eternal.

we've been luckier than most.

i just wanted to say that i didn't know [name]. i only spoke to him once.

he could have killed me, but instead he showed me mercy.

that's a debt i'll never be able to repay.

she wasn't just my ally. she was my friend.

i couldn't save her. i'm sorry.

you guys look amazing.

so what do you think, now that the whole world wants to sleep with you?

i wasn't talking to you.

will you unzip?

thanks. let's do it again sometime.

the way the whole "friend" thing works is you have to tell each other the deep stuff.

what's your favorite color?

now you've stepped over the line.

see, this is why no one lets you make the plans.

you have been our mission from the beginning.

the plan was always to get you out.

people are looking to you, [name].

you've given them an opportunity. they just have to be brave enough to take it.

we have seen a lot of tears here tonight.

you are angry. tell me why.

i'm getting totally screwed over here.

now you wanna kill me again.

nobody decent ever wins the games.

nobody ever wins the games. period. there are survivors. there's no winners.

love is weird.

i would love to borrow that outfit someday.

you look pretty terrifying in that get-up.

i outgrew them.

any secrets worth my time?

unfortunately, i think that's true.

i'm sorry you had to cancel your wedding.

i'm really not in the mood for a lecture.

you don't have to apologize to anybody, including me.

i hardly know anything about you except that you're stubborn and good with a bow.

there's more than that. you just don't want to tell me.

make him pay for it.

any last advice?

stay alive.

she's committed, i'll give her that.

you saved my life. you gave me a chance.

fear does not work as long as there is hope.

you were dead. your heart stopped.

how rude of them.

eyes bright, chins up, smiles on.

we're a team, aren't we?

i am truly sorry.

you both deserved so much better.

i don't want to be with anyone else in there. just you.

that's what i want.

no waving and smiling this time.

i want you to look straight ahead as if the audience and this whole event are beneath you.

that should be easy.

be careful. it's a force field up there.

i think these games are gonna be different.

i guess we're not holding hands anymore.

i don't care about any of them.

i'm here to drink.

you know and i know there's only one person walking out of here, and it's gonna be one of us.

i get to say goodbye.

they will kill us.

whatever game you think you're playing, those out there are not playing it with you.

i don't want you to get hurt.

so how do you like the party?

you could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve that boy.

you don't want to shoot her.

how about i shoot both of you?

get them out of here.

#rp meme #mcflymemes #hunger games #rp prompt #rp memes #roleplay memes #rp starters #roleplay prompt #ask memes #ask meme #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters

429 notes · View notes

ready-to-read7 · 4 months ago

Text

Prompt #12

Okay I have seen a few things of Damien and Danny being siblings but most of the time they are twins but that is not the angle that I’m currently going for since I do remember reading once when Danny was Damien’s older brother some time ago and I’m going to throw in some trance Danny misunderstandings with baby elly but a lot more interference from clockwork

so Danny was reborn as Danielle al Ghul and for some reason he was born female but he did not care since he could just simply proclaim himself trance when he’s older, he knows he’s a baby he still has all his memories from his first life and his time as the ghost King but he sees this as a vacation that will take an entire lifetime but a vacation non the less one that finally will let him relax hopefully.

but unfortunately he was born to a family that worships a thing known as a Lazarus pit a hole of disgusting, old ectoplasm that has become corrupted, not to mention he found out later he was born into a league of assassins, and these two things wouldn’t really be a problem since he still has his durability and enhanced senses so he could avoid getting killed, and he thought the ectoplasm would not affect him but unfortunately due to how old and disgusting it was it was making him sick so from when he was a baby he was ill and obviously his grandfather saw this as a liability but his mother somehow convinced his grandfather that he might have inherited his biological father’s intelligence so he might be useful for something other than one day taking over the league of assassins, and that she would simply try and bear another child in order to get the perfect heir,

when Danny was 4 his mother gave birth to his little brother Damien who unlike him was not affected by the Lazarus water so was the perfect heir in his grandfather’s eyes.

They both were still being trained Damien obviously because he was supposed to be the next heir of the league of assassins but Danny was being trained more in intelligence and healing but it does not mean his assassin training didn’t happen and to the surprise of everyone he was keeping up with his training the only thing is his illness made it difficult for him to gain his grandfather’s approval since Danny would randomly faint or start coughing up blood.

Also despite constant attempts to keep Danny and Damien apart most of these attempts being done by grandfather they had a good relationship and Danny had become the league of assassins head healer by the age of 12 and his grandfather, Ra's al Ghul could admit that Danny was not as useless as he once said but despite that Danny’s condition was getting worse, so much that by the time Damien was 10 and about to leave to go to his father Danny could not leave his bed.

okay so a time skip happens of 4 years and this is where I’m going to have to explain on how elly fits into the story, so something happens in elly gets put into her core and while Danny is on a mission clockwork gets in touch with him again and explained the situation with elly and explains that she needs to be incubated a.k.a. he has to carry her like a normal human baby and Danny Seeing this is a chance to reunite with his daughter along with to get away from the league of assassins makes a plan and stages something that makes it look like he got (assaulted) when in reality all that happen is that he absorbed elly’s core,now for his plan to get away from the league of assassins

he writes a letter to Damien explaining the situation blaming their grandfather for the entire thing by stating that he had been getting worse and grandfather had sent him on the mission regardless to a place that was honestly more dangerous than he could handle in his much weaker state and now things have happened ( he does not mention that he is pregnant technically since it would be too early to know that for a normal human)

Damien having lived for 4 years with his father and siblings had learned that most of the things the league of assassins did was not okay and receiving this letter from his brother that he had kept secret from his family because he honestly thought that his brother was safe and he did not see a point in telling them about Daniel, was absolutely furious how could grandfather do this, Daniel was a cherished member of the league of assassins he was the best healer, what would be the reason for grandfather to put him in such danger and then he would think Daniel had always been strong his fighting prowess was that on almost the same level as mother the only reason it wasn’t better was because he was ill and to be honest if he was not ill he probably would’ve far surpassed grandfather, Damien comes to the conclusion that grandfather was scared of Daniel and was purposely keeping him sick and putting him in dangerous situations just to keep him in line, Damien would not accept this and would immediately set up a meeting with his father so that they can rescue Daniel.

#dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc #dpxdc #batfamily #dp x dc prompt #danny phantom #misunderstandings #dp x dc Misunderstandings #Damien's older brother Danny #trans danny fenton #trans danny #Baby elly/dani is going to be so cute and loved by her family #Bruce is obviously distraught that he has another son that he didn't know about but he is determined to rescue him #All the batkids are in shock

559 notes · View notes

somnoir · 5 months ago

Note

first time giving a prompt

deaged!Danny (may include Dani, Dan and/or Jazz too if you like) given to Themyscira to be raised by Kronos (Clockwork). They were given a vague reason (they either might end the world or save it. kinda like the PJO Great Prophecy "to preserve or raze")

cause a boy/s is/are involved. They get sent to be raised by Diana instead

i just really want mom!Diana to happen

god I love mom!Diana so much! I need this woman to just pop up to the watchtower with her own baby and tell the others to fuck off cause, BATMAN HAS HIS BABIES I HAVE MINE!

Percy Jackson themes? Let's go!

Children of Diana - part 1

Kronos was always a mysterious and frightening figure in their stories. The father that devoured their children upon a prophecy of a throne to be taken by his child. Five had fallen into his stomach, Hestia of the hearth fell first, whilst Hades was the last to be eaten. Only by Rhea's cunning did their youngest, Zeus, survive his father's hunger and grow to be king.

But Kronos never truly stayed dead.

He was time embodied, moving with every universe, even as he melted away from their world and into another.

Hippolyta told her stories of Kronos, along with how she wished for a child and how her love for one allowed her to make Diana out of clay and give her blessing of goddesses to be a mother to a blessed daughter. Diana heard stories from her mother of everlasting Kronos who's name shifted with worlds, with his domain of time. How the titan has moved past from his children and embedded himself into the stars.

Diana heard of his stories but never in her lifetime did she expect to be met with that same Titan.

Her first instinct was to bow, to greet this almighty titan with the proper etiquette. But Kronos only smiled at her, snapping his fingers.

One moment Diana was Louvre, then next she was beside her mother in Themyscira.

"Diana!" Hippolyta blinked, bewildered to see her daughter before the atmosphere turned tense, cold.

Once again, the Amazons were graces—perhaps even cursed—with the Master of Time's presence.

"Kronos." Hippolyta sucked in a deep breath, her stance going rigid as she prepared to greet and attack their guest. "My lord..."

"Progeny of mine," Kronos wore a purple rone that shadowed his face, with a body that floated from the ground. In his hand was a peculiar staff with a glowing blue clock. "I have no trust in my children but... You Amazons are more sensible and responsible than my brats."

"Except for Hestia. I would trust her but she is too close to them for my liking." He drawled, startling Diana.

Hestia was the eldest of the traitors, the first to be eaten. She was still referred to as a traitor and yet there is evident fondness in Kronos' voice.

"Nevermind that." Kronos waved it off, "Pandora has claimed that you are trustworthy—" THE FIRST WOMAN PANDORA?! "So I shall trust you with this prophecy. Especially, Diana... Wonder Woman. You will prove essential to the fulfillment of this prophecy."

Diana's body stiffened, unable to help but grab her mother's hand. Blessed as she was, Hippolyta squeezed her daughter's hand, comforting and reassuring before they nodded and waited for the prophecy...

Kronos was smiling.

"From the death of youth, a monarch shall rise,

To fall, and rise again with time's reprise.

Brother and sister by the throne will stand,

Balance to bring, or doom to command.

Should the path be dark, the stars will weep,

For the universe's fate, the king shall keep."

Diana's breath hitched. The prophecy was... It was scary. She couldn't fathom it. From the lines alone, there was a possibility of the universe's doom... But it involves a king of sorts.

What did that entail?

Kronos was laughing now. "Be wary, Diana of Themyscira... The High King of the infinite realms and his siblings will arrive soon..."

"The infinite realms?!" Hippolyta almost looked faint.

"Yes. The king, his royal siblings the prince and princess have entered a new cycle. Their oldest royal sister is currently regent and unable to raise them in the realms."

Diana cleared her throat, "My apologies, but why is the regent unable to raise her siblings?"

"Regent Queen Jasmine Phantom died long ago. She is a full ghost whilst her siblings are epitomes of balance, both living and dead. As they are still very much alive, being in the realms for too long during their years of development is unhealthy for their constitutions." He explained, glancing at his staff.

"It is time."

Again, Diana was startled and almost lunged forward for more answers before her mother squeezed her hand again. Her breath caught, glancing back at her mother who sent her a warning glare.

"I wish you the best of luck, Diana." Kronos smiled, almost softly, "You will do well to raise my children. I am in your debt."

All at once, Diana was suddenly the mother of three and someone the Master of Time owed a debt too.

Diana had not expected to find three children in her home. Yes, she expected to find three individuals, but she had at least expected infants. Not three children who's ages varied.

"Hello..." The middle of the three said, blue eyes, black hair, scrawny and small.

"Hello." She softly said, looking around her apartment before crouching in front of the children with the softest smile she could ever give. "I am Diana. Could you give me your names, little ones?"

"Dante." The eldest of the three, with blue eyes that flashed red, grunted.

"Daniel but I go by Danny." The middle smiled, then gestures to the toddler that clung to Dante. "This one is Danielle but she likes to be called Ellie."

The girl waved at her, rosy cheeks with blue eyes pile her brothers.

"Clockwork said we had to come to you because our sister couldn't keep us in the realms. We're sorry for the trouble." Danny grimaces, genuinely apologetic and clasping his hands together.

"I told that bastard that we didn't need to be deaged or anything. But no! He kept saying that we needed a vacation or whatever." Dante scoffed, rolling his eyes before adjusting little Elle in his arms.

Diana saw the discomfort on the eldest's expression as he tried to adjust his little sister in his arms. She offered her service to him, gesturing for Dante to give the toddler to her, bur she received a growl and a glare from crimson eyes.

One of the boys was the king of the infinite realms turned into a child. The prophecy had clearly stated that the king would be joined by his sister and brother, so the possibility of little Ellie being the king was void. So it was between the boys then.

"Don't be mean, Dan! Miss Diana is already trying her best right now. I'll tell Clockwork and Aunt Pandora that you're being mean to their favorite." Danny snapped, swatting his brother's shoulders.

"It is alright, your majesties."

"Oh!" Danny flushed red, "No need for that. You don't have to!" He insisted, "I'm not king at the moment since Jasmine demanded we were given a break... I just didn't think that a break meant going through a new human cycle."

Diana's eyes softened, so Daniel was king. "I see... I do not mind being your caretaker, little ones. I have friends who have children, and I have found myself rather envious of them. Truthfully, I never expected to beae children myself but... My mother lost the ability to have one herself, and yet she made me from clay."

Dante nodded, "We've heard of your story. It's quite beautiful how your mother loved you so much, even when you were nothing but a dream... But she managed to make you reality with that love. It's quite inspiring."

Danny soon explained, "Our mortal mother died many years ago. She and our father were ghosts, citizens of the infinite realms before my siblings and I encouraged them to follow through with reincarnation. We would have had our eldest sister do the same, but she is more stubborn than our parents." The fond smile on his lips was one tinged by melancholy and longing.

Diana realized that these children were ripped away from what they called home, forced by their own sister for their sakes. Immortal monarchs were thought to be all powerful, undying and never needing rest.

Diana herself saw it as such, with how Zeus refused to relinquish his throne, of how his siblings and children attempted to usurp him the same way he did with Kronos.

But the royals of the infinite realms seemed to be of a different breed. The dead who were once mortal, living, before time caught up to them and their existences were given to the realms. That humanity seemed to be what made the Ghostly royals to be so... Extraordinary. Because it was clear to Diana that the regent Jasmine loved her kingly brother and royal siblings with all her heart. Especially when she was willing to sit upon the throne, carry the burden of monarch, for a life time. All because she wanted them to be given a chance at happiness.

Diana has heard stories of the realms, of how the previous king, a tyran named Pariah Dark, was defeated. Phantom became king through conquest and it was rumoured he had still been a child, still alive and only half dead, when he was given the crown.

"Well then..." She cleared her throat, smiling softly. "I hope that you will be able to live comfortably with me, little ones. I will not force you to see me as a mother, but I will do everything I can to be a proper caretaker. I will love and cherish you the same way my mother and sister did."

That statement alone seemed to have affected the three, enough that Dante relaxed.

The second time Diana tried to take Ellie from his arms, Dante sis not resist. He carefully tucked his sister into her arms, showing her how she liked to be held.

Ellie giggled, reach up to her and nuzzling her cheek against Diana's chest.

"Adorable." She whispered, kissing the little girl's forehead before turning back to her brothers. "May I know how old you currently are?"

"Physically or chronologically?"

Diana chuckled, "Physically."

"I'm ten. Danny's eight and Ellie's two." Dante explained, pointing to them each whenever he spoke. "But chronologically, we're around... Actually, I don't know. Time in the realms and time here is different. It's also different from our earth. So..."

"Ah, no need to explain if it's too confusing. I understand that time flows differently for everyone. Let us just say that you've existed for a few centuries, yes? Keep it vague for everyone else." Diana grinned, already thinking of how Batman would be utterly perplexed by that.

"Well then, let us get you settled in, yes? Unfortunately, I only have one guest room." Diana frowned, cooing at little Elle that tried to wiggle our of her grasp, "I was planning on moving soon since this part of Paris is a little too loud for me."

A little white lie. She'd have to ask Bruce for help of finding a new space in a short time.

The three looked suspicious, skeptical, and already feeling guilty. Diana was quick to act, ushering them to their rooms, asking them if they've eaten and what they'd like for dinner if not.

Aside from a new place, she needed to acquire herself some parenting books. Yes. Lots and lots of parenting books, especially if her children were eldritch beings.

Maybe Bruce had more experience in that field.

No, Diana, do not think like that. You're a mother now.

Especially when she was the mother of three while Bruce was only parenting one child. Though said child was now a rather rebellious fifteen year old.

Masterpost

#Children of Diana #I like WW's clay origin more than her being a daughter of Zeus #it shows that Hippolyta loved her so damn much that she made a child out of clay and was gifted life by the gods #in my au this lady is between 200 or 300 years old #that's reasonable in my head :)#Jazz saw her siblings slowly breaking down from being king; the time police; and ambassador of the realms #dan is time police and hates speedsters now cause theyre the ones he's trying to arrest #its part of his community service #ellie is ambassador because she gets to travel everywhere and make diplomatic relations for rhe realms #Diana achieved the status of mother #shes gonna be the best mom to her new ghost babies #The Phantom trio really miss Jazz but their new super mom is the cool lady that Pandora and CW are really proud of #Diana has had her babies for less than a day but if anything happens to them she'll kill everyone then herself #DICK IS STILL ROBIN AND FIFTEN!#So the rest of the batkids haven't been adopted yet #so #technically... Diana has the most kids #mother is motherinf by having the most kids first :D #tbh struggled writing their names a bit cause there were too many Ds #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom #danny fenton

986 notes · View notes