#Everything in that dream was a kind of dark blue. Bathed in that kind of light. I thought that was interesting.
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the ground vs the sky in hadestown
(in which i go very long on hadestown's lighting design to strengthen my eurydice = hades, orpheus = persephone agenda)
TL;DR: eurydice and hades are ground, orpheus and persephone are sky. the "ground" characters need the "sky" characters to be free, to dream, to remember that there can be a better world than this.
all screenshots used in this post are from a video by @medium-observation, thank you for your service as always
there's a ton of evidence in the show for this dichotomy, with the most obvious and literal one being the lighting associated with each character. during how long, hades and persephone take turns to sing, and as it switches between them the lighting changes too -- orange for him, blue for her.
orange for hades feels fairly obvious considering hadestown as a setting is bathed entirely in warm colors. per lighting designer bradley king:
Hadestown is very furnace-like: amber, orange, and rust.
persephone gets blue, which she brings with her at the beginning of livin' it up on top.
so that's what i mean when i say ground vs sky. for hades it's pretty literal - the ground is his domain, but it also reflects how he "keeps his head low, he keeps his back bending". persephone gets the blue of the sky because it symbolizes freedom - not just being free but feeling free. from the NYTW version of livin' it up on top:
Give me a sky that you can't buy
Or sell at any price
the sky is a big thing for hades and persephone, because it's the one thing he can never give her. he expresses how he feels about that in chant:
Lover, I was lonesome
So I laid a power grid
In the ground on which you stood
And wasn't it electrifying
When I made the neon shine?
Silver screen, cathode ray
Brighter than the light of day
to him, that's the closest thing he can give her to a sky, which he hopes will outshine the real daylight (though of course that's not what she really wants from him).
in our lady of the underground, everything persephone offers up is also sky-related (moon, wind, stars)
I got a sight for the sorest eye
When was the last time you saw the sky?
ok so we've established the hades and persephone part of this. what does this have to do with orpheus and eurydice? because the exact same lighting design is present with them, too - and it's especially clear in wedding song:
when eurydice sings during this song she's bathed in yellow and amber. then orpheus sings and the blue light starts creeping in to show how slowly, and despite herself, she's beginning to believe in him.
this all culminates in the dance they do in all i've ever known, where the entire stage is bathed in persephone's dark blue. the literal meaning in the scene is that it's nighttime, but the color - and choreography - is eurydice finally letting herself be free and untethered from the ground.
But when I saw you all alone against the sky
It's like I’d known you all along
from 'working on a song':
It was a brief choreographic / staging moment, after the lovemaking, when the lovers lay on their backs side by side, holding hands and looking up at the sky. At the stars. It reminded me of how the stars had played such an important role in the early Vermont version of the show, with the Fates naming the constellations, and the idea of our destinies being “written in the stars.” And it moved me, I think, because of the knowledge of where our lovers were headed: a world without stars.
i actually find this dichotomy especially interesting because of the associations with the characters and the colors. temperament-wise, you'd probably say hades is "cold" and persephone is "warm", which is true. but hades gets the warm colors and persephone gets the cold ones.
why? because hades' orange is the suffocating kind of man-made heat, whereas persephone's blue is the endless possibility of the sky. and yet, artificial warmth is still warmth, while the open air can be bitterly cold... something that eurydice knows very well, and is the reason why she makes the choice she does.
during epic iii, when orpheus begins to sing, the scene is still orange. then as his song begins, the light on the walls becomes blue, like he's actually finding that "crack in the wall" to let the sky shine through. from a cut song that orpheus would sing called cloud machine (per 'working on a song'):
There’s a crack in the wall
It’s a little bit wider
It’s a little bit wider, that’s all
then, after the climax of the song, when the scene re-settles, the light goes back to being orange. but as soon as hades remembers the melody and he and persephone begin to dance, the light turns blue again, like the exact same thing is happening to hades that happened to eurydice in all i've ever known -- he's remembering how it feels to let himself be free.
ok i think that's about it. thanks for reading this super long post starring my brainworms
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Redressed my nail again, taped my finger so I don't injure the joint, did this whilst listening to Valin's playlist, got emotionally T-boned when "Dress" came on, now I am doing my leg exercises, the usual... Goodnight, everyone.
#My sleeping pills are working fine however... So I will sleep now.#I feel a little melancholic...#I have a strange emotion inside of me since a few days ago.#I had a dream where I met Atsushi. I woke up and I felt a bittersweet emotion I can't describe.#It was very out of nowhere. Sort of in-passing. I tend not to encounter recognisable people in my dreams.#Or people at all. My dreams are empty nonsense. It was unusual.#Everything in that dream was a kind of dark blue. Bathed in that kind of light. I thought that was interesting.#Doesn't make me happy or sad. Just makes...#I don't know. I suppose right now I am ''sad''. My throat hurts because my muscles are crushing it like a tin can so I don't cry.#Hah...#Regardless. Goodnight everyone...#I come back to this post after an hour to make a kind of edit in the tags.#I feel much better now. And I imagine moreso when I go to sleep and wake up.#Goodnight everyone. Kiss kiss...
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Once more the hallucinations hit, and once more I am here writing it out.
My brain is fucking terrifying and I want out, so bad. This came to me in the form of a nightmare.
Also, please don’t take the timeline into consideration, because I have no idea what’s going on. Again, nightmares and dreams tend to not have the best coherency when it comes to plot and timelines. The reincarnation doesn’t have a name, I was too busy feeling terrified. Shit in parentheses was how I experienced the nightmare. Everything else is just me adding sprinkle sprinkle.
——
Ra’s al Ghul.
Talia al Ghul.
Two names that she had been aware of, in the peripherals of her hyper fixation. Two characters meant to enhance the story of the Dark Knight. Side characters, on a good day. Perhaps, a main antagonist on a better day.
On a bad day?
Main characters. Real, living people. Real, living, breathing assassins.
Unfortunately, they’re her new family. One she remembered coming into, bathed in a pool of blood and screams.
She was not a baby.
She is now, a baby. The first of Talia al Ghul’s children. The eldest, once Damian al Ghul was born.
Swaddled in emerald green and gold silks, she was presented to a man with silver streaked hair and a receding hairline. He too, was robed in green and golds.
“A daughter, Talia?” He rumbled, the smooth Arabic flowing out of his mouth failing to hide the acrid disappointment. The child, past the haze of confusion of suddenly being deported from her own adult body into one of a helpless child, felt a stirring of irritation. It’s good she learned the language, because now she knew exactly how Ra’s felt about her. The child grumbled a displeased sound. Not that she would have ignored the fact that her grandfather was Ra’s al Ghul. (He smelled like moth eaten fabric and blood- but I think that was because my cat accidentally scratched me.)
“My apologies, father.”
“Do not tell the young detective of this. Had it been a son, perhaps things would have been different. No, a daughter would only hinder him.”
Talia bowed, hands tightening on her daughter. “May I raise her, father?”
“A resource is still a resource. Go ahead, Talia.”
“Yes, father.” Talia took the dismissal and bowed before leaving.
On her way back to the room with the reincarnation’s crib, Talia al Ghul stroked her daughter’s head.
“I wish you were born a boy, my daughter. I am sorry my beloved will never know of you.”
The reincarnation looked at her new mother. She’s young, the woman-child realized. A teenager.
“You’ll have to be useful, my daughter. Your grandfather is not so kind as to keep the useless. I… do not wish for your death,” her mother muttered.
Great. She got new life and it’s already in danger.
——
She learned to swing a knife. Swords. She learned and devoured the teachings. She learned to be useful.
But then they asked her to take the life of a man who did her no wrong.
Her baby blues clashed with her grandfather’s Lazarus green.
She was still young. A child.
“No.”
“No?”
“He did no wrong.”
“He failed, granddaughter.” Ra’s smiled down at her, patronizing. Cruel. “Perhaps you possess your father’s heart, and you are foolishly sentimental, as women and children tend to be. But in the end, you are an al Ghul and you will obey. Plunge in your blade and I will reward you.”
The reincarnation looked at the man kneeling in front of her, resignation and a hint of pity in what little she could see of his face.
She’s already died before. What did she have to be afraid of?
“No.”
They tried to beat the weakness out of her. It didn’t work.
——
The reincarnation stared at the mirror, left alone in an opulent cage of gold and emeralds and precious stones that meant little to her now.
Her hands traced her back, small fingers finding purchase in soft skin. Her mouth opened fruitlessly, noise refusing to escape. She still felt the burning magic, the brand her own blood had carved into her skin and soul because she refused to kill. The chains her grandfather had shackled around her with magic and cruel amusement.
She had killed him, in the end. Obey, or be punished. Her body had moved without her permission, the reincarnation a prisoner in a body that refused to do as she commanded. The knife swung, a life taken, her hands dipped in red.
She learned a valuable lesson that day.
There were things worse than death.
“This is an order, granddaughter.”
The Magic had flared a searing heat at her neck, forcing her to kneel on broken legs. Ra’s loomed above, authority in his voice. She was bound to obey, regardless.
“You will never speak another word of affection, you will never speak another word to anyone unless I allow it. Perhaps this will teach you of your folly, and your place in this world.”
The loss of her freedom and the fear that came with it was a bitter and devastating lesson.
——
Ra’s al Ghul was so much worse than what little she knew of him.
She was right to be afraid for herself.
Her mother had worried, when she’d withdrawn and refused to speak to her. Even if she could, the reincarnation would not have wanted to. The reincarnation had felt furious, back then, when she thought of Talia. Her mother who refused to protect her. Her mother, who claimed she loved her but refused to see the chains Ra’s wrapped around her neck. She who plied the reincarnation with a supportive hand but forced her into the fighting pits.
But, as the reincarnation stumbled out on bruised and used legs from Ra’s al Ghul’s meeting chambers where he had allowed his business partners to partake in her, she realized that Ra’s was a monster in a human’s body and her mother was a victim of his making.
The lesson Ra’s taught her that day was that if she was not useful, if she did not kill, he would take what was left of her and make use of her.
Hate flared in her heart, and the beginning of Ra’s downfall began the day he let her go from the chambers alive. Injured, but alive. Injured and violated, but alive and furious.
——
She carved her hate and rage and helplessness and fear in the bodies of the people he bid her to kill. Her silenced screams were expressed in the way she splattered blood, the way she covered herself in it. A killing machine first, a stress reliever second, and a child… wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to be.
His enemies were felled, one after another. He gave her his approval, something she detested.
But still, she continued, bodies racking upwards, tens turning to hundreds, hundreds edging into thousands.
The red in her ledger became ichor and guilt. Her language became violence and obedience.
“You have become a sharp tool, granddaughter.”
She was a genius, after all. And now, she could not disobey. A blade that Ra’s believed will never point towards him. She kneeled. She obeyed.
“Thank you, grandfather.” Her words were only allowed to come out- without searing, terrible pain- when she was thanking him. She tried not to do it as often as he wanted. He thought he broke her when he read the obedience she carved into her body language.
But she never bowed. Never. Not to him. Never.
——
“My weapon could learn much from your granddaughter,” David Cain sat across from Ra’s, wine in their stupid goblets. How she detested the green and blacks he’s seen fit to dress her with. She’s dressed provocatively, not of her own choice. She doesn’t have much of those- doesn’t have much in ways of choices- these days.
She was twelve, and Ra’s al Ghul deserved to die.
“Her combat is a higher form of what my daughter has achieved. How did you do it?”
When Ra’s began to reply, she slipped away.
She found the girl. She found… the cage- the black box- the child was placed in. The child flinched from her when she opened the metal box, fear only easing as the reincarnation kept her body language neutral and kind. (It was pitch black, and about the size of like, a closet. No light. Only from whatever door the box had.) (Cass’ hands hurt from banging on the walls to be let out)
David Cain’s daughter, her mind whispered, the memories of another life once more making itself known.
“Cassandra.” She whispered, regretting it immediately when pain wracked her body. She fell to her knees as the punishment for disobeying an order slammed into her.
The girl looked at her in concern, but did not move closer. The reincarnation stared at this girl and saw a reflection of herself.
David Cain would be here for a month. She will free Cassandra in those days.
——
The weapon stared at the girl in front of her, kneeling in pain.
She did not understand.
-
The girl came back. Water. Food. Kind.
The weapon felt warm. The girl was quiet. No sounds. Good. The weapon knew the girl understood. The weapon thinks that the girl is a weapon too.
-
The girl comes back, again. This time, she makes a sound. It hurt her, but she did it again. The weapon understands when the girl points at herself and repeats the sound. The sound means the girl. The girl expects something from the weapon.
The weapon makes the sound, flinching to see if the owner will come to punish it. The girl purposefully sits, relaxed but vigilant… and protective. Of the weapon?
The weapon relaxed. It repeated the sound, pointing at the girl.
The girl smiles, in pain. But approval. The weapon feels- the weapon is warm, like under the blanket. Approval.
The girl teaches her to make sounds but the weapon communicates without it. It does not like the sounds, does not need them, but the girl seems to think it’s important.
The weapon likes the girl, so the weapon learns. They still understand through no sounds, through reading each other.
-
The girl comes back, silently. Secretly. The weapon does not notify the owner. The weapon feels- does not want to.
The girl- the girl with the sound- she says a different sound. Her body tells the weapon that it’s important, this sound.
And when the girl points at herself and says her own sound, then points at the weapon and says that new sound again, the weapon begins to understand.
The girl had given the weapon her own sound.
“Cass—n- ra.”
“Cass,” the girl said, and Cassandra understood.
“Cass.” Cassandra pointed to herself.
-
The owner wanted- wanted Cassandra to end a life. Cassandra watched the owner kill and gesture to the dead thing.
Cassandra did not want to.
When Cassandra is placed back into the pitch black box, she waited for the girl.
The girl came.
“Don’t want.” Cassandra clung to her, reading the welcome and the sadness in the girl’s body. Cassandra tucked her face into the girl’s shoulder. She is cold. The girl is warm.
The girl hugged her back. The girl understood. Sadness hardened into lines of determination. Cassandra felt… light. Felt hope.
-
Cassandra slipped away from the place, water in her pack for the dessert and money to run from the country. The girl stayed behind, seeing her off. The girl tells her to never come back.
Cassandra did not want to leave the girl behind, but the girl could not go.
“Be free, Cass.” The girl had whispered through the pain. “For the both of us.”
——
Her grandfather knew. He allowed David Cain to break her, not kill because she was of use to him still, as a lesson. She found that she hated his lessons. But, she hated his attention more.
And still, she could not regret. How could she, when Cass trusted her with what fragile hope she had?
So, she lets him beat her, and provokes him with smirks and fearless eyes because the longer he’s focused on her, the more time Cass has to run.
Then, he gets too angry, and insults Ra’s, whose eyes grew cold. Her grandfather gestured and while she usually hated the command that followed that gesture, she could not feel that hatred now.
She got back up, legs broken and arms twisted once more, and attacked David Cain.
Ra’s would not follow Cass. Not when she was not his business to deal with, and not when David Carin’s fury amused him so.
David Cain would not follow Cass. Not while she still drew breath. The reincarnation stood, and threw herself at one of the best assassins of the century.
She tore his throat out with nothing but her teeth. She felt, for once, not like a monster. Not even when Ra’s nodded in approval and ordered for David Cain’s broken body to be cleaned up.
——
She’s been granted a mission in New Jersey, once her months of discipline- of torture- ended. She does not get ordered to find Cassandra. She’s fourteen now, and as silent as ever. Her mother had adjusted to her silence by then- long ago, actually, taking it as a quirk her daughter had developed. She hadn’t been a terribly vocal child, after all. Talia praised her for being useful even as a woman- the self degradation something the reincarnation had no doubt Ra’s had insidiously trained into Talia- and for being loyal to Ra’s.
Sometimes, she hates Talia for being- for-
Never mind. She couldn’t afford to hate anyone else.
She killed her targets early, determination and wistfulness urging her movements into sharp . Then, she made her way to Gotham and slipped into the city of darkness- where her father was.
She watched as he hid in the shadows almost as easily as she did. She watched as he flew and glided with the younger Robin. (He was younger than her by a year. She checked.) He was free. They were free.
She wished…
As she turned away, she saw a child tumbling from the edge of a roof. It was an instinct she’d thought Ra’s had managed to bury after the months he’d spent making sure she killed only children.
She hated him.
She caught him, swooping in and tucking him against her side as she plucked him from the air and plopped him back onto the crumbling roof of Gotham’s slums.
“Oh, thank you! So much- are you a vigilante?” The boy asked, looking at her masked face. It’s a good thing she wasn’t exactly dressed like a regular League operative.
She shook her head. Her eyes fell onto his camera, faint memories rising once more. She had an inkling-
“I’m- uh- Tim!” The boy introduced himself nervously, edging away from her silence. “Thank you for saving me…?”
She nodded. She pointed to the camera, tilting her head.
“Oh- you… want to see it?” He clutched his camera closer. Oh, he did have some sense of self preservation. She wondered why a seven year old was allowed to roam these streets… but she did worse at seven.
She held her hand up and back up. The boy hesitated, and then showed her the camera. “Uh- I took pictures of Robin and Batman!”
They sat on that roof for hours, and she let Tim Drake tell her stories about her father and his son. Ward. Son.
She could tell that Tim didn’t have anyone to listen to him.
She didn’t have long until she had to go back or risk severe punishment, but… she could make time for Tim, to listen to him.
She wondered if Cass managed to escape completely. She wondered if her sister all but in name and blood learned how to smile.
——
Tim had never had a friend before!
She listened to him! And gave him hugs the one time he was brave enough to ask! And she seemed to like Batman and Robin as much as he did! No one who didn’t like them would listen to his endless rambling otherwise, right? (Tim was super skinny, like ribs poking out skinny. He looked like a sickly Victorian child and he was kind of cold)
“And then, Robin went like this,” he pantomimed the awesome punch Dick Grayson did on a Joker goon. “And the guys got knocked out just like that!”
His new friend nodded, looking interested.
“Sorry, am I talking too much?” Tim asked anxiously. He didn’t want to make his friend hate him!
She shook her head, and gestured for him to continue.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
His new friend was so cool! She even taught him how to throw a punch and to fight!
——
When she had to leave, she prepared Tim for it.
“Do you have to go?”
She nodded and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Her other hand held a duffle bag with an assortment of weapons she carefully kept from him. (One of the blades still had guts on it, which, ew.)
“Try not to fall off anymore roofs, little photographer.” She said, smiling at his shocked look before leaping away.
“Wait, you can talk?!” He shouted at her back. She smiled a little wider.
——
“A son, this time.” Ra’s al Ghul’s voice echoed in his disgustingly flashy throne room. It rings of approval.
The reincarnation stood behind her mother, eyes cast downwards.
“Well done, Talia. I finally have a worthy heir.”
Damian al Ghul cooed.
The reincarnation was scared. But… she could not allow her younger brother to be trapped like she was. She’s fifteen now, a decade of slavery having worn her down and nearly broken her. But with her brother… no, she could not allow it.
She met her mother’s eyes and knew then that they agreed. Protect Damian, at all costs.
She ignored the sting of envy. So what her mother could not find it in herself to protect her daughter? So long as she protected Damian, it didn’t matter.
Maybe she didn’t matter. Maybe she wasn’t worth anything. Maybe- maybe- maybe.
She also ignored the seed of disgust she had for mother’s actions in conceiving Damian. She couldn’t do anything about it. Talia was also a victim.
A louder voice in her asked if she could really excuse that, when Talia had a choice and she chose to hurt and violate Bruce Wayne like that. She wondered if she could truly ever forgive Talia. She wondered if Bruce Wayne got therapy.
——
She stared at the tome in front of her, eyes blank. (Actually, she had no eyes. Like? Empty sockets, but then later she had eyes???)
The brand- the shackles- the chains could only be broken if Ra’s died. She wasn’t opposed to that. But if he died, so did she. She couldn’t even kill herself to get out, because the chains would be there even if she died. If she was revived- a high chance, thanks to the fucking pits- then the chains would still be there.
Perhaps… she could use the pits?
Her mind turned and turned.
——
“This is your ukht.” Her mother pointed at her. Damian stared up at her, and she melted. Her brother was too damn cute.
“Ukhti?”
She nodded as her mother smiled in joy. “Yes, habibi.”
She was better at hiding the pain, now. She was better at enduring it, too, that fucking burning feeling. She spoke more, but only to Damian.
It would not do for her brother to grow up not knowing how to receive verbal expressions of affection. Not like she did, in this life.
Still, it hurt to speak. But then, she had an idea, based on Cassandra.
She could not speak, but speaking wasn’t the only way of communication. She’ll teach Damian sign language- standard, as commanded- but also her own version. Yes, she could do it. It wouldn’t be hard.
She was a genius, after all, and creating languages wasn’t as hard as people seem to think.
——
Damian copied her, small fingers patting his hand four times.
She did it back to him. “I love you.” She tells him, with sounds and with motions.
He does it back, excitedly, because he had a secret with ukhti!
——
Sometimes, she dared not to touch Damian. She wants to ruffle his hair and give him hugs but the ichor on her hands reminds her to not get to greedy. She did not deserve it.
Not when her hands were stained with the lives of so many people.
——
Another mission.
She was twenty now, and not much closer to escaping her bonds. Though, once she hit her majority, Ra’s lost interest in her in that way. A blessing, even if she had to seduce his “business partners” into giving him better deals more often now.
She stops by Bludhaven. The Robin she watched so many years ago- six, by her count- had grown new wings and moved. She wanted to see if he could fly still.
He could. He flew as free- no, freer than his days as Robin.
She dipped away to complete her mission (nuclear weapon trading, really?) and swings back to see a spider trying to break the former Robin’s wings.
“No.” Nightwing whispered, staring upwards at the cloudy sky blankly. “Please, stop.”
She didn’t need to hear any more. She saw red, and dove feet first straight onto the spider’s head, knocking her out.
She picked up a near-catatonic Nightwing, and helped him to his apartment. She left Tarantula in the rain and felt zero guilt about it.
He changed mechanically, some kind of instinct keeping him from removing his domino, but it was a bit pointless considering she escorted him to his personal apartment.
She watched as Nightwing slipped into an exhausted sleep before leaving. She had a spider to squish, and traces to hide.
——
Dick wakes up, drained and exhausted. He… someone saved him.
He sees a scrawled note, handwriting impeccable enough to be a font, written with his pen. He picked it up from his table, and his eyes tiredly read the message.
“Don’t worry about Tarantula. Or your identity.”- A friend.
He remembered- the mask- the mask of the stranger that saved him vividly. He’d remember. And he’d thank them if they ever came back.
——
She was in charge of training assassins, these days. A year and a half later after Bludhaven, she was back in Nanda Parbat, and she’s devoured every magical tome she could get her hands on. They all say the same things.
Her assassins were trained well, and Ra’s praises her with more responsibilities as he followed the pit in his obsessions. Her mother began to splinter the group, not knowing that as Ra’s began his descent into madness, people looked towards her instead of Talia for leadership. They did not know that her unwavering presence by Ra’s side wasn’t voluntary but it is their true that she became his right hand out of pure skill. And flawless obedience, of course.
Then, someone new joins.
Someone with pit rage and empty eyes that goes rigid when she approaches.
Then again, most of the operatives freeze up when she walks towards them.
Her memories roar. A child.
He bowed, and her eyes followed the streak of white hair at the forefront of his skull.
She gestured at him to follow, and ignored the pitiful eyes the rest of the assassins gave to the kid- they act like her training was hard when she went easy on them (it was)- and led the kid towards the training rooms.
She knew who he was, even if her grandfather and mother didn’t think she knew.
Her… Bruce Wayne would probably appreciate his son being returned relatively sane.
But first, she had to beat the Pit out of him. Then, she could assign body guarding duties to him, in an attempt to protect him.
——
“Grandfather, I will take Damian’s punishment.”
“A whipping girl, granddaughter?” But he nodded anyways. He made Damian watch.
She kneeled and allowed the punishment. She couldn’t always protect him from Ra’s, but this she could do anytime. It’s not like she was unfamiliar with the torture. (The whip had barbs. Rusty. And they sprinkled salt.)
——
“I liked poetry….” Jason Todd tells her after a training session. “I think.”
“Sure. I’ll call you Grave, then.” Pain. But she was used to it.
He tilted his head, eyes going blank once more. She sighed. There went his memories again. (His eyes were blank and glazed. Like looking at someone you love and knowing they’re looking through you.)
——
“I would not trust her,” she says to the air, next to a Red Hood emerging from Talia al Ghul’s chambers. She could see it, the beginnings of Gotham’s new crime lord. But still, “Talia al Ghul is known for her lies.”
She pushed away from the wall. It was up to Grave if he listened. It was out of her hands now.
——
She’s twenty-five, and she’s helping Damian pack for his first meeting with Bruce Wayne.
“You must not tell him about me.” Because he’d come rushing here, and she had worked too hard to save Damian for her fool of a father to come and ruin all of that effort.
“I promise.” Her little brother said solemnly. Ukhti said it out loud, which meant it was important and she expected him to keep that promise.
The only other time he’d heard her speak was to tell him she loved him.
The reincarnation smiled and told him through their special sign language, to treat the current Robin with respect and to try his best to get the current Robin to pass down his title.
‘Robin is earned. They have different rules, over there. Try your best to learn those rules.’
Her brother was sheltered. She loved him, but he was spoilt and sheltered. Of course she was worried. Talia barely mothered him.
“I know. You do not have to remind me so often, ukhti.”
She smiled, and patted his head.
“Be safe,” she whispered. “I will miss you.”
Damian darted in for a hug. “Of course. Goodbye, sister. See you soon.”
She hoped not. It was hard enough to convince Ra’s that Damian would learn more under Bruce Wayne.
(She was locked in a small closet- like Cass- for about a week, because she brought up the idea first.)
——
She found it.
The answer to pit rage laid in an old, all but crumbling tome from Atlantis- answers “from a ghost.”
——
Bruce Wayne died. Months after Damian came to live with him. That- irritating- she sighed and worked with her mother to turn Ra’s al Ghul’s attention away from Gotham, lest he called Damian back in Bruce Wayne’s absence.
The little photographer caught grandfather’s attention. She stood vigil as he played chess with Ra’s. His interest in Damian wavered. Anticipation blurred in her veins.
She saved his friends. Her assassins. She let them go, telling them to wait for the little photographer’s plan. (Y’all miss girl had fucking bloody handprints on her pants like someone tried to grab it.)
The first few people who had an inking she might not be loyal to Ra’s… and it was them.
When her other assassins attacked Red Robin, she cut them down before they could touch him, helping him with a furious League of Spiders or whatever operative. She hated spiders.
“What…?”
“You’re a lot of trouble, little photographer.” She sighed. His jaw dropped.
“It’s you!”
“Go,” she cut him off. “Blow this place up. I left a surprise for you outside.”
——
“Owens?! Z?!” Tim trembled, exhaustion and shock and wonder hitting him at once.
“Heya, boss!” Z chirped. Owens helped Tim up while Z helped Tam. Pry walked around them, looking out for further threats. “The nightmare trainer let us go. She knew you, I think.”
Tim smiles, all shark teeth and zero hero. (In the background, the song zero to hero from Hercules 2, played in reverse.) “Tell me more.”
——
Damian grunted, bracing himself for the magical creature’s attack.
“Robin!” His father barked out, panicked. Damian hoped he’d survive-
Shhhlk!
He looked up and there stood his ukht. She bounded forwards, using the odd fauna of the magical plane to bolster her movements as she sliced the creatures apart with her swords, magic humming brightly as she cut through them… and the magicians attacking them.
“What- what are you doing here?” He asked. She greeted him, three fingers curled over her shoulder.
‘My question is,’ she signed. ‘Why were you here without a magical weapon.’
Damian sighed as father stepped in between them.
“Who are you.”
“Batman. Cease your excessive worry. I trust her with my life,” Damian snapped. He stepped around a shocked Batman, looked him in the eyes, and unsheathed his katana. He handed it over to his ukht, who took it with amusement.
‘See?’ His eyes seemed to say. Father tensed when his sister unsheathed her own blade and handed it to him.
‘Are you here for a specific reason?’ His sister signed to him.
“Uh, you gonna introduce us, little man?”
Damian sent the Flash a derisive look and ignored him.
“We’re looking for a magician. He set a squadron of demons loose into D.C. last night. He has a tower.” Damian added.
“Robin,” Father growled. “Who is this.” Damian shot him a look and turned back to his sister.
The reincarnation tilted her head. ‘Tower… it’ll have to be that way.’
“Could you take us there?” Damian asked. Truthfully, he could find the way himself. But he wanted more time around his ukht. She nodded and Damian straightened.
“I feel like we should be concerned that Robin’s friend just murdered a bunch of people.”
His sister glanced back and ignored them.
“Silence, incompetents. Speak another word against her, and Batman’s no killing rule will be applied creatively.” He hissed. (The fucking surroundings hissed with him y’all what the fuck)
He turned when his sister ruffled his hair (Superman muttered a super shocked “what the fuck.”) and Damian allowed it. He had missed his sister.
——
#I have vivid nightmares#batman#oc in dc#dc#batman fic#idea for a fic I definitely don’t have the time to write#reincarnation#isekai#once more my brain has seen fit to fuck me over#tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon#like holy shit what the fuck#brain what is wrong with you#tim drake#jason todd#Damian Wayne#Damian Wayne’s older sister#dp reference lol#couldn’t resist#oc gets Isekaid and proceeds to have a shit of a time#y’all there’s a second part to this shit#it’s a long ass dream
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i wanna be yours - mv1
pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader
requests that came together and inspired this series:
• nsfw prompts 9-13 (in pt. 2)
• 'listen up. Obsessive possessive crazy max for sweet innocent reader smut.'
• 'ok so we need dark FICS of any driver of your choice but make him very obsessive and possessive and don't forget the smut. Keep it up girlllll!!!'
summary: a lot of tension building between possessive max and sweet y/n.
warnings: alcohol consumption, fluff, slightly crazy max, some cliches (im sorry!)
also the title is based off the arctic monkeys song because i felt like the vibes matched also i love arctic monkeys💕
a/n: screaming once again!!! this is the first fluff ive posted and it's part 1/2. the next part has the smut as promised but i wanted to take my time and build this up please enjoy🙏
the flight to the UK was long, but well worth it. two months ago you'd been offered an unbelievable opportunity.
an opportunity you'd been dreaming of for years, one you'd spent what felt like an eternity working towards— an engineering internship. not just any internship, one with the red bull formula one team.
you'd be able to travel with the team, shadow the engineers, help with various tasks around the paddock, and design parts at hq. an absolute dream.
after scouring a thousand real estate websites, you'd finally found the perfect place for to live.
a little 1 bed 1 bath apartment, tucked into a beautiful, quaint little neighbourhood. just 30 mins to the red bull hq.
you'd dedicated many late nights and ikea shopping trips to making the apartment your own. your comfortable escape from the grueling hours of studying and pressures of the internship.
you led a busy life, but it never bothered you. you adored what you did and formula one had been your passion since you were a little girl.
and now everything was falling into place. in fact, tommorrow you'd leave to attend your first race with the team. austria. red bulls home race.
you were ecstatic to say the least.
°~•☆•♡•☆•~°
you hurriedly made your way through the paddock and into the red bull garage. your eyes glued to the schedule on top of the pile of papers in your arms.
you were on your way to assist one of the senior engineers in preparation before the race began.
you were nervous, and it was no help that you weren't exactly sure where you were supposed to be meeting him.
suddenly, you stumble over your own feet and bump into someone.
you feel hands on your shoulders, their grasp firm, steadying you.
you look up and are taken aback by the pair of strikingly blue eyes staring back at you. his eyes were the kind of crystal blue that would capture anyones attention. but despite their bright colour, they had a sort of inexplicable depth, darkness to them.
there was something in his expression that you couldn't quite read. something stirring beneath the surface of his icy gaze. it was as though he wasn't just looking at you, but into you.
you abruptly become aware of his hands, still on your shoulders. you're so oddly aware of them, as if it's your first time being touched by anyone.
he holds you firmly, as if trying to hold you together. the moment seemed to last forever. the two of you frozen in time.
a stranger's eye contact and touch shouldn't be affecting you in this way.
"you okay?"
it's only once he speaks that you realize who the man standing in front of you is.
your eyes widen, cheeks flushing. you straighten up quickly, mouth slightly agape.
"oh'" you start, at a loss for words "yeah, im sorry." you manage a small smile.
you straighten up an take a step backwards, pulling away from his grasp. you miss the warmth of his hands more than you'd ever like to admit.
"it's okay, no worries," his eyes linger on you a moment longer before you both go your separate ways.
as you walk away, you cant help but glance back at him.
max verstappen.
you'd certainly heard him speak before on tv, but something about his accent in person was enchanting. his energy seemed to linger on you like perfume.
everything about him caught your attention, long before you'd bumped into him in person.
you'd seen his dominance on track, it was impossible not to notice. he could control the car like no other driver, handling each corner perfectly. he pushed the car to the limit every race and it payed off.
it wasn't just his driving you noticed.
his persona. it was everything. and you couldn't ignore the fact that it was sexy.
his short temper, his tendency to snap easily.
it was unreasonably and indescribably attractive.
°~•☆•♡•☆•~°
the next time you see him he's across the room. you're studying the notes that the senior engineer gave you, papers and writing utensils spread across the table in front of you.
he was discussing something with his race engineer, he certainly wasn't doing anything that was particularly interesting or peculiar, he wasn't even looking in your direction.
but for fucks sake you were distracted. you were somehow absorbed by his prescence.
ever since bumping into him you couldn't seem to get him out of your head. last night you'd replayed the memory over and over in your mind, finding it more difficult than usual to fall asleep.
all day, you'd silently prayed you would bump into eachother again. your relentless efforts to push your thoughts and feelings to the back of your mind were useless.
the mere idea of him was addictive, so alluring. he was drug-like to you and impossible to ignore.
although it was unknown to you at the time, max had found himself similarly hooked on you. or rather, the thought of you.
even though he found enough strength to avoid looking at you, he was well aware of you. sitting at the table in the furthest corner. he was even more aware of the fact that your eyes kept flickering in his direction.
your energy was unlike anything he had ever known. you walked around with an aura of pure innocence. yet you seemed untouchable.
your smile shone. your laugh was contagious. you radiated sunshine. max had come to know these things about you.
you were magnetic in such a way that made him curious.
it stirred something inexplicable inside him. like you were another thing for him to win, to claim. another thing for him to dominant. to corrupt.
your innocence was tangible. and max wanted to be the one to wreck you. it was all he thought about.
ruining you.
°~•☆•♡•☆•~°
the light in your apartment was soft. that's how you preferred it.
you relished your alone time. your small apartment was tailored exactly to you. it was always where you felt perfectly safe and at ease.
light from the sunset was just beginning to spill through your windows. you're stirring a big pot of soup on the stove with lazy motions.
a buzz from your phone catches your attention, the screen lights up and you see a new message. it's from andrew, one of the young engineers at red bull who you'd grown close with over the past few months.
your eyes widen upon reading the message.
a dinner with drivers? you couldn't deny that it sounded exciting.
but then again, you were already in your pajamas and the soup was beginning to steam.
you suck in a breath.
fuck.
the three letters of his name were more than enough to change your answer.
°~•☆•♡•☆•~°
you spent half your time getting ready frantically choosing an outfit.
finally, you'd settled on your favorite black dress. your hair fell over your shoulders in soft curls left over from the day before.
now, you were standing outside the restaurant. you take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves.
you walk in and the hostess greets you with a friendly smile. you're led to a booth connected to a big table that's only half full.
andrew waves you over and you take a seat next to him in the booth. lando sits across from you.
youd never spoken with lando outside of strictly professional context and you were pleasantly surprised by his charming humor. you're engrossed in the conversation with the two boys as the rest of the group fills the table. you look up to greet the others.
your breath hitches when you see him. his eyes stare into yours with the same intensity as they had two days ago. you don't break the eye contact until he sits down and a dark haired boy you've never seen before calls his name.
despite the abrupt rush of blood to your head, you manage to hold up the conversation with lando.
°~•☆•♡•☆•~°
max couldn't keep his eyes off you for long, and the longer he watched the tighter his grip got on his glass, until his knuckles turned white. he was so focused on you laughing and smiling with lando that he didn't pick up on the way you fidgeted with your ring. a nervous tell.
max clenched his jaw as you leaned in close to something lando said. far closer than what many would deem an action between two casual friends. your giggles and blushing and landos knowing smirk and your hand jokingly smacking his arm made max see red.
"you alright, mate?"
"im fine."
°~•☆•♡•☆•~°
as the night goes on and the chatter and laughter get louder, people begin shuffling around, moving to talk with new people.
lando is called over to a different group of friends and andrew leaves with him, leaving you alone in the booth.
"having fun?"
you recognize his voice immediately, sense his burning presence as he slides into the booth, sitting next to you.
"yeah." you manage a smile. "the food was really good."
"that's good." he says, briefly glancing away. your eyes involuntarily trace over the tendons of his neck.
he was wearing a dark button down, the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. simple, but ridiculously sexy.
he turns his eyes back onto you.
"i didn't know you were gonna be here."
"oh i—" you hesitate for a second, his eyes making your heart skip a beat.
"andrew invited me." you explained, turning slightly so you could face him.
"mm, so are you..." he gestures between you and andrew a few seats down, you know what hes asking.
"oh no, we're just friends." you toy with the edge of your napkin.
it was a bold topic to bring up during a first conversation to say the least, but it didn't feel weird. there wasn't the usual tension, usual coldness that typically came with talking to someone for the first time.
it was comfortable, you were able to relax a little.
"hm." is all max answers with. he spreads his legs slightly and pushes his hips forwards, getting comfortable. his leg brushing against yours.
the casual action had your heart thrumming in your ears, beating so loudly you're worried he can hear it.
you swallow, having to glance away. you feel your cheeks turning red.
why max verstappen had such an intense effect on you was still a mystery.
"so um—" you start, trying to make some small talk that would distract you from his arm that now rested on the ledge behind you. you take a breath, composing yourself before speaking. "how often do you guys do this kind of thing?"
he shifted again, his leg touching yours, but he doesn't pull it away this time. the knot of nerves in your stomach tightened. you felt your face turn even redder. the physical contact made your body ache for more.
max smirked, his ego swelling as he saw the effect he had on you.
"once in a while, usually after a race."
you nod, biting your lip.
"congratulations by the way." you say, it wasn't surprising he'd taken first yet again, but you said it anyways. you prayed he wasn't able to pick up on the way your words came out slightly shaky.
you wanted to do nothing more than relax into him, but with the way he was looking at you that proved to be impossible.
you took a sip of your wine, desperate to cool down as an unexpected surge of heat washed over you which lingered between your legs.
max was different than anyone you'd ever talked too before. he reminded you of nobody. his sense of humor was unique and hilarious.
as the conversation continued you grew immensely fond of the dutchman sitting beside you. although you were absorbed in the stories from his childhood he told you, you remained acutely aware of how close the two of you were now sitting.
max's night couldn't have been unfolding more perfectly. your body language made your thoughts and feelings painfully obvious.
he picked up on the way you blushed immensely at any slight touch from him. the way your pupils dilated as you stared at him. the goosebumps that spread across your chest when he complimented your dress.
but the loudness of the restaurant was a little too much for him. there were too many people here. he craved something more intimate, more private.
"do you wanna get out of here?"
you're caught off guard by his words.
the question was so cliche, yet coming from his mouth it made your heart throb.
"there's a beautiful view not too far from here," he continued, "we could walk?"
his voice was like velvet and he leaned in close, speaking in a low tone as if he didnt want anyone to hear except you.
by now, you're practically having heart palpitations. the pit in your stomach gapes wider.
it was already hard enough for you to keep your sanity intact with him while surrounded by other people. you honestly aren't sure if you could handle being out alone with him.
you nod slowly your head spinning, breathe quickening.
"oh, yeah i'd love that." your voice was unsteadt, yet enthusiastic.
without another word he starts getting up, but before he slips out of the booth he gently touches your leg with his hand, as if reassuring you.
his fingers may as well have been made of hot metal, his touch affected your entire body, his fingerprints burned into your skin.
you felt like a little kid with a crush as you gingerly got up and followed max out of the restaurant, butterflies in your stomach and in your mind.
you don't notice all the eyes on you two as you leave the restaurant, too caught up in the giddiness you were feeling. your own eyes too focused on max in front of you, more specifically on his back which looked so good in that damn shirt.
max, on the other hand, was well aware of all the eyes on him. he fought to keep his cocky grin at bay. there were at least 20 other people there, and out of everyone, you were leaving with him.
he opens the door and lets you by first.
"thank you," you say, the night air cooling your overheated body.
"of course."
amongst the ever present—extremely active— butterflies that fluttered in your stomach, you felt a twinge of genuine nervousness.
you realize that you had just left a restaurant, alone at night, with a guy you technically barely knew. was this safe?
it certainly felt safe. max felt nothing like a stranger.
your nervousness melted away once max fell into step beside you. you looked up at him, at those intense blue eyes.
you were walking so close your arms touched. you had the urge to reach out and take his hand, but of course you didn't.
so there you were, walking alongside max verstappen into the dark night, to see the promised beautiful view.
you'd only walked two blocks before max carefully took your hand in his, entwining his fingers with yours.
please let me know if you want to be tagged for pt.2 (this might end up being three parts)❤
#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fanfic#mv1#mv33#f1#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#prompts#fanfic request#f1 fanfic
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The GraveRobber
Andrew graves x reader
Warning: cursing, sexual stuff
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
...
Jax...
You remember sitting on your sweet boyfriend's lap around midnight eating pizza and playing Mario kart the night before he left. Did you do something wrong? After all you both been through together... he just up and left? Why?...
He was you best friend since childhood, you both went to the same preschool, took baths together when you had play dates, had sleepovers every other weekend, all that jazz. Jax was really kind of cute , He had light brown curly hair , with equally light brown freckles that covered his fair skin and he always wore these long sleeve shirts with sweaters over them or this dark blue space themed hoodie that you would occasionally borrow when he was at work. It smelt like fresh linen and Irish spring body wash.
Jax preferred a "traditional" relationship ,he didn't like you wearing makeup and anything tight or short because he didn't like guys gawking over you. He didn't want you to work even though you wanted to work as mortician but he didn't find that feminine and well it creeped him out. So you decided to sacrifice your dream to well compromise in your relationship , you stay home in your shared apartment, doing the cleaning , cooking, and all those household chores. It isn't like you hated these things, you are actually pretty skilled at it.
But after Jax got a new job , you both moved to this apartment and well after a month , he left. It feels like it was almost planned... like ever since you both arrived here, he grew distant and well now looking back at everything... you should have know.
He started coming home late, like really late . He started complaining about you and how you looked and why don't you try dressing more modern and feminine and you remember turning and looking at him like HUH?! And that's when you start smelling very sweet perfume on his work suit. The same work suit that you wash and iron. But you must be crazy right, he would never cheat on you anything, he always acted like a saint.
That bitch
You're gonna find him.
And make him pay.
"OH MY GOSH," you yelled hitting against your neighbour wall with your fists, "TURN OFF THAT MUSIC," you screamed but that did nothing. You groan as you slam your head against the wall as a last attempt.
You decide to clean your small apartment, it became a habit now, I mean well there isn't anything really to do other watch tv and sleep. Can't really eat, have to ration food, maybe you shouldn't have really given those two emo siblings a whole box of food. But that was out of your good heart , you want to hate everyone but you just can't. It was a good thing you did.
*Your Love Increases*
You sigh, as you go to change your clothes after showering looking at the dreary patterns on your long skirts and and ugly blouses that Jax bought for you to wear. But you remember your clothes that you wore in high school which are stuffed in black trash bag in your closet after Jax threatened you to throw away if you continued wearing them because he claimed that you were cheating by doing so. You burst the bag open and empty it on the bed and you smile as you remember how good you used to feel wearing these. You grabbed an outfit and put it on.
You look at your outfit in the mirror , twirling and grinning and you decided to put on some makeup. Damn you look hot.
*Your Confidence Increases*
You turn back to the clothes that you now realized you hated and look at them. You bunch up the clothes , and slam open the balcony door and start dumping out the clothes outside onto the street. Your heart races wildly as you see the clothes being run over by speeding car. It was almost... pleasurable. Your chest rises and falls heavily as you breathe hard , smiling madly.
As you come down from your high, your eyes meet the older of the Graves siblings- Andrew with his eyes widened, his mouth slightly opened and halfway burnt cigarette almost falling out his mouth. His eyes traces over your body lingering at certain places and then at your lips and repeats this as if he was in a trance. You blush, its been a while since someone looked you like this, you don't even think Jax ever looked you like this well since... ever.
You snapped your fingers in front his eyes as he blinks out of his trance. "H-ey, um- wow you look uh- wow," he covers his face partially, blushing trying to avoid eye contact or his eyes contacting with any part of you than can make his knees give out. Before you speak , he continues , "Damn I mean you look beautiful since the first day I saw you moving in but damn you look so good, I mean you looked hot in what I saw you in last time but-" he breathes in hard as he continues admiring you. He starts back again " This enhances your hotness," he smiles nervously also playing with his hair as his eye gets lost in yours.
You smile mischievously, without words you use your index finger to call him over to your balcony while biting the bottom of your lip. Jax never made you feel so... horny but damn you are now and you want to enjoy this badly and come on, Andrew is hot. His eyes widen as he smirks and sets up his makeshift bridge to cross over coolly , he turns to flick the cigarette off the balcony and turns back to face you .
He pushes you against the balcony door , tracing his hands on your hips, he kisses your neck , light and soft then he pecks your lips. Its almost as if he is afraid to touch you like if you're glass, or so you thought. He squeezes your hips roughly , bucking up against you private area making you groan, running his tongue against your lips asking for entry. You open your mouth as you start feeling heated, his tongue slips in, dancing with yours, fighting for dominance and winning. He drinks in your moans as you grind against him. He pulls away from the kiss reluctantly, leaning down to whisper in your ear as he grabs two handfuls of your ass, "Tell me what you want me to do Y/n, say it and I'll do it , please say it Y/n."
Face flustered as you are just mind fucked from this amount of physical interaction, you wrapped you arms around his neck , breathing heavily as your chest touches his , " Andrew I wanna-,"
"ANDREW , where the actual hell are you I need you to come rub my feet," Ashley annoying whines loudly that it can be heard from where you both were. Andrew jumps back with a scared but annoyed look as if he has touched fire but his hands is still on your hips almost as if glued almost as if he didn't want to let go.
He breathes in apologetically as he steps back, giving you a quick deep kiss holding to your face saying " I'm sorry but I really like you , but if Ashley finds out I don't know what she'll do...", "ANNDREEWWWW" she yells . He groans loudly as you give him a kiss again and he leaves to go back into his apartment.
You look longingly at the apartment and scowls
"Stupid Cock block"
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❆.*.•°◞8:02 p.m. — huening kai
genre: jack frost!kai, fantasy, fluff, a sprinkle of angst (brief description of frostbite/hypothermia)
wc: 1.4k
the tips of your fingers are turning a deep, inky blue.
the sight should concern you, and yet you cannot find it in yourself to care. your muscles refuse to function, as if having a mind of their own, rendering you unable to lift yourself from the snow surrounding your body, to find your way out of this damned forest. bones frozen over, you exhale, watching with glazed over eyes as your breath creates a fog in the air. much akin to the rest of your body, you are unable to feel your lips.
you are tired, so very tired. stars twinkle above you — glittering, joyful, taunting. get up, get up, get up. chase after us.
perhaps a small nap would be of help, then you can find your way out, following the stars all the while — you simply must regain some energy first. close your eyes and rest, and when you wake, everything will be okay.
“close your eyes,” a sharp, icy voice whispers within your mind. “give in to me.”
finding no reason to rebel, your eyes flutter to a close. everthing will be fine. you will soon wake and trace your steps back to the edge of the forest. tendrils of sleep curl around your mind, pulling tighter and tighter as you begin to slip into unconscious. you tiptoe on the edge of dreams when the rapid crunch of snow underneath boots catapults you back into reality. the sounds grows louder before it stops next to your ear. your eyes open a crack, blurry vision taking in the stranger. you catch a streak of fair blonde hair, a worried voice floating through your ears, before your eyes close once more. at last, darkness whisks you away.
you are unsure how long you remain unconscious, but when you do finally wake, death no longer sinks its talons into your chest. your entire form is bathed in a delicious warmth, and when your eyes blink open, you find a fireplace crackling with orange flames before your eyes. a blanket has been wrapped around your body, a small pillow cushioning your head from the hard floor. unfurling your limbs from their curled up state, you sit up. you look around with a frown pulling at your brows, noting the onyx sky outside through a nearby window. it is still nighttime — you mustn't have been asleep for too long.
the front door clicks open, a blast of cold mixing with the warmth of the room. a man who seems to be near your age quickly shuts the door before his gaze meets yours. physically, he is slightly intimidating — long-legged and a bit broad, the thinness of his striped sweater unable to hide his wide shoulders. you should be concerned about being alone with a man in his cabin seemingly in the middle of the woods, but the relieved expression his features melt into when he realizes you have awoken soothes your apprehension.
“you’re awake! i am glad,” he says as his lips curl into a gentle smile. in that moment, you find yourself thinking that he’s pretty, with strong yet kind features that further relax the tension in your muscles. “you had me worried.”
“i—” you start before hesitating for a moment. “thank you. for helping me.”
he hums, giving you a wide berth as he makes his way over to a dark wooden table, sitting down in a rickety chair that squeaks as he adjusts his long limbs. he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. his thin sweater and slacks concern you; how could he have gone outside in such thin clothing and remain so unfazed?
“why were you in the forest? at night, nonetheless.”
you pause for a moment before you respond, heat spreading across your cheeks. “i...got lost.”
his brows furrow at that, but he doesn't press any further, shifting so that he leans against the back of the chair, chestnut-hued eyes still trained on you, studying you. his icy blonde hair brings out the natural flush of his cheeks. you shake the thought away. he is beautiful, yes, but he is a stranger to you. untrustworthy.
“how are your hands?” he questions, playing with his own in his lap, fidgeting in his seat.
your hands! the cold had all but taken them when he had found you, but as they emerge from under the blanket, the frostbitten tips of your fingers have somehow returned to their normal state. your jaw drops, mouth parted. this isn't possible. this should not be possible. no, no, no.
“h-how?” you panic, rubbing at the skin. “how did you—”
“my powers- i mean, i created a salve that can reverse the effects of frostbite,” he says, but the first part of his sentence is not lost on you. you have heard many stories of this forest, of the creatures that lurk within the shadows. he couldn’t be...
“your powers?” you squeak, backing yourself against the wall next to the fireplace. “y-you—”
he remains on the chair. a beat of silence. two, three.
“my name is kai,” he begins, and though he does not receive anything but a fearful stare in return, he continues. “i have resided in this forest for my entire life. most humans refer to me as ‘jack frost,’ though i am simply a myth to them.”
he allows you to simmer with that information, fixing you with a neutral expression. it makes some semblance of sense now; there's something different about him, in his aura. you are unsure how you have not noticed before, but his ears come to a point, unlike any human.
“i wish not to hurt you,” he finally says when he senses your body relax slightly. “however, the forest is dangerous at night, so it would be best if you remained here until morning. i will guide you out.”
you inhale deeply, weighing your options. you could stay, sleep in warmth with a seemingly benevolent mythical being protecting you — or you could take your chances in the pitch black, ice-cold woods, unaware of what could be watching, waiting to pounce on a vulnerable little human like yourself.
easily, you choose the former.
“i see. thank you again for your kindness,” you say with a lethargic smile. sleep seems to weigh your eyelids down now that your safety is essentially guaranteed. his presence screams sincerity, comfort, and, ironically, warmth. something inside of you tells you to trust him, and against your better judgment, your name tumbles from your lips.
“well, it is nice to become acquainted with such a respectful human,” he says, and you wonder what that could mean. you ponder what other humans had done to him to elicit such a response. “i do have a spare bedroom, but you may sleep out here if you would like.”
“a bed would be wonderful.” you nod, attempting to get up, but your limbs betray you. you collapse back to the ground. the man — kai — winces, but does not act to help you. you see him eye the fire next to you as you finally stand.
“heat...makes me weak. i apologize,” he says as you move towards him. his hand wraps around your wrist, fingers cold, guiding you down a hallway until you reach the door towards the end of the hall. you say nothing.
“i will leave you alone,” he says, the hand around your wrist dropping to his side as he opens the door for you. “if you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask me. i will be next door.”
you are unsure what comes over you as you lean up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. you pull back with a grateful smile, cheeks hot as you realize what you have done. “thank you, kai. i shall see you in the morning.”
a ruby red blush stains his cheeks, and he stutters out a brief good night before he's slipping into his room and slamming the door shut. you giggle a little — how odd; you, of all people, causing an immortal being's face to flush. quietly, you close your own door, dropping onto the bed to snuggle into the soft sheets. sleep arrives without delay, your eyelids drooping more and more as snow falls outside of the window next to the bed. you watch in wonder as frost begins to cover the expanse of the glass pane, your eyes blinking open a final time to find the entire window coated in ice.
among the fern-like patterns that riddle the window, a heart is tucked into the center.
masterlist
© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.
#txt fluff#hueningkai fluff#txt x reader#hueningkai x reader#txt imagines#txt aus#txt timestamps#txt soft thoughts#txt soft hours#hueningkai angst#txt angst#hueningkai imagines#hueningkai scenarios#💌 — hyuka
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GHOST SPIDER GHOST SPIDER GHOST SPIDER
The noccoro angst with this reversal is beautiful! GIVE ME PISSED OFF NETEYAM WHO RESENTS JAKE FOR ABANDONING SPIDER
Give me neteyam who is racked with massive amounts of guilt and torment over not rescuing Spider and having to live with the fact that he's dead and only neteyam knows and can only see him....
I think the only person who would believe him would be Kiri, considering how in tune she is with eywa and her surroundings.
Give me Neteyam trying to help put Spider's spirit to rest, but Spider is so far gone that it's impossible to even try, because Spider's spirit is just so broken from everyone turning their backs on him and abandoning him to the sky people and him feeling like he's not good enough to pass on into Eywa's embrace.
"You left me to die!" Spider screamed.
"I-I never wanted to leave you behind! None of us wanted too leave you behind!" Neteyam cries out as tears roll down his cheek.
"LIAR!" Spider screams as the marui shakes violently from Spider's furious rage.
GOD YES THANK U FOR SCREAMING WITH ME ABOUT THIS. HOW DARE YOU WRITE THAT.
(If you guys don't know what we are talking about, it's the ghost of Guilt by @undercoverpan which is like a Spider ghost version of our Neteyam ghost au and we are all literally insane for not thinking of that first).
I know we've all been on our Neteyam hiding his relationship with Spider shit, but I feel like this is the perfect opportunity for him to just say fuck it and just start saying everything and going off on everyone. I KNOW Kiri would believe him, and I think Lo'ak would too, he looks up to Neteyam too much not too. The tragedy that even if he can get through to Spider ghost and they can reconcile and he can prove to Spider that he loves him and that the kids all care and never wanted to leave him, it ultimately doesn't matter. Spider is still dead and Neteyam is still just seeing a ghost.
(If any of you are into The Black Phone and also are into very sad and tragic ghost love stories, feel free to check out Holding On and Letting Go by Nizhoni93, which this fic reminded me of in the hopelessness it made me feel in the ghost of a loved one being right in front of you, but not really there at all. It's so incredibly well written. Little tw for implied rape/non con, but if you know The Black Phone you know).
Fun edit to my draft of this: got distracted rereading that fic, please have a long list of quotes from it that really haunt me and that I feel really fit our ghost love au:
"He curls in on himself, crying quietly. I lay beside him on my side, head lying on my arm, watching him. A heavy blanket of grief covers us both. There’s a block of moonlight coming through the window. It splits us down the middle, me in shadow and Fin bathed in the silvery blue streak peaking through the jarred curtain. It’s almost ironic. That we’re laying on opposing sides now, like it was always inevitable. This frail seam divides us more than I feel. Light and dark. Life and death. Maybe we were just never meant to be in each other’s worlds."
"When he falls asleep again, I want to reach across that fragile line of midnight, that mystical brink between us, and urge the sweaty strands off hair out of his face. I imagine imprinting myself under Fin’s skin, leaving new and warm dreams of us to replace the cold bruising ones the Grabber left behind.
There’s an anchor in my chest that stops me. I’m never gonna’ touch Finney Blake again. Am I?
All we have is whatever this is.
And whatever this is, it’s harder than anyone can ever imagine."
"Sort of struts down the hall sometimes — which admittedly, is kind of cute. Now that I'm dead, I can own that. Finney Blake is cute. It's not like I have anything more to lose in saying so."
"Instead I could have stuck around and spent a lifetime making sure I was protecting Finney Blake from myself and from anyone who could dare to get in his way. Now I'm the reason he's getting in his own way.
He spends hours in day, refusing to forget me. He's sad when he wakes up and he's sad when he goes to bed. When he's not sad, he's angry."
"I like you Finney Blake...only you'll never know it. You'll think I liked older girls with angry philosophies. But I like you, for your sweetness and how clever you are. I like you for being funny and gentle and brave and impossible to give up."
"'I can’t shake him.' Finney mumbles, his words sounding exhausted and hazey, 'He’s still everywhere. He won’t go away.’
'I know kid. He’s still got me too.'
Fin hitches on another cry.
'Robin…'
My heart perks. I need him to never quit saying my name. Even when he’s sad, I want it to be his. Only his.
'…I know you said I could do this, but I can’t. Why’d you have to go?'
I shake my head at him, 'I haven’t left Fin. I'm with you till the world stops spinning if you want me. I ain’t going anywhere.'"
"He squeezes Donna's hand, but I feel the pressure constricting my heart instead. There's no more blood left in me to spare, but if there were it'd be at Fin's discretion to start pumping the life back into my veins where it belongs."
"That hasn't changed Fin. I'll always be around to have yours, I want you to have me right back. I wish I could be the one to help you break down the walls you've built since I died, instead of being the reason those bricks were laid. Donna Thompson is around to help you miss me, but what if I don't want to be missed? I just want to be in your face and hold your face and kiss your face and make you never forget me."
"'I have faith, just not in who you'd expect.'
'Then who?'
He looks up, steadfast, 'The only person that matters,' he answers. 'Robin.'
I smile at him with a misty gaze. You're the only thing I still believe in too Finney Blake. Fuck it, we can worship each other and every inch of the world around us that isn't covered by shadow. I never want to be in the dark again. I don't have to be when I'm around you. We can make our own light and we never have to crossover. We can just stay together, you knowing me and me knowing you...and that's all that has to make any sense.
I'll stick with you Finney Blake. Pray to me. I'll be your best religion."
"I reach up and thumb Finney's face where his jaw his tensing. I'm braver being invisible. Writing my fingertips over his skin. There's no electricity between us. No magic spark under my fingertips. If I give into the temptation and add even a little more pressure, he'll slip through my fingers. I can't tell if he's cold or warm. I can't feel the smooth hollow of his cheek, or have him lean into my touch.
But I can look into those black eyes and know exactly where I belong. There's a little window of light slipping onto the crest of his irises now, unveiling flecks of gold. They look like stars. If Fin is lost, I'll stay lost with him. I'll float my soul forever in the deepest, darkest shade of his universe.
'I couldn't live without you Fin. Dang dude, I had to go and die just so I could follow you forever.'"
"'This isn't normal grieving Robin. Everyone keeps telling me it'll get easier but every minute you're not around, I'm losing my mind! I'm seeing flickers of you in the corner of my eye. I'm hearing echoes of things that aren't there. It's your stupid sarcasm and your sass and your obnoxious fucking laugh—'
'Hey...hey watch it—'
'I miss your laugh,' Finney chuckles sadly, 'you never cared that people looked at you weird for it.'
'Maybe cause I only had eyes for you dork.'
'And then I think I feel things too. Just now, I swear...' He shakes his head at himself, tracing his cheek softly. I watch his brain working, my heart thudding with desperation. You swear what? What Finney!?
'There's no way.'
There is a way Fin. There has to be! We just have to find it."
"Can dead hearts break? If so, I hope this time I'm done for good."
"I try to shake him awake, but my hands go through him. I hover my palms over him, quivering uncontrollably. I yell out to him, 'Fin! Wake up! Wake up! C'mon man!'"
"Sometimes I catch glimmers of hope in his eyes. Hope for me. For us. Those star flecks burst like supernovas only I can see. But I worry; will Fin accept any future without me in it, especially knowing now that I’m back on the table? I don’t want to get his hopes up. Seeing as how, fate’s got an annoying track record for overlooking the sheer epicness of us. What if once all our light explodes; we're just left staring into the dark mouth of a black hole?
I'm not sure I'm good for Fin anymore. Or is it the other way around? This boy is a torture to me. I'm alive when I'm around Fin. He makes me alive. My heart stopped beating a long time ago. My heart is decaying five feet deep in the earth. But Finney wakes my soul. We're so extended; it feels like he's beating one heart for the both of us.
I know I’ll have to let him go one day. I know I’ll have to make him let me go.
Till then, we can keep being hopeless idiots.
I still really wish I could give Fin what he wants though. Get him to see me for as little or as long as we have left."
"'Are you here Robin?' He barely whispers. Anyone else would've missed it. But by now I'm an expert in all sounds Finney Blake, and I can make language out of even his tiniest, most indistinguishable peeps. 'Or did I chase you away?'
I smile softly at him.
'Nothing you say is making me go away Fin.'"
"We can pretend we're in our own little world here. You don't know this, but I'm laying against the door hovering my legs in your lap because the leg room back here really does suck but also because it's an excuse to get closer to you. I'm not complaining.
Finney...I've missed half the movie because I'm watching you instead and I never want to quit being the only one who gets to see you from this angle. The way your smile shines from your soul and the casual grace of your dimples as you reach across the console and keep stealing Gwen's fries. You have mischievous grin and a fry dangling from your lips and I'm realizing you're my latest and greatest revelation.
Jesus. I think I might love you Finney Blake. I think I might maybe...actually...definitely love you."
"I'm losing my marbles trying to hold onto this illusion I've built around Fin and me. Maybe I died too young for this. I'm too small for a feeling so big, but I can't help it. I know how I feel and I feel like I can't live without him. I guess I don't have to though, do I? I've fooled myself into believing that being dead meant nothing had to change. I could sit on the sidelines like I used to for Finney's games, only this time I'd be watching him live for the both of us. It's sad to realize that everything about me since I've died and everything that’s happened since, is really, pathetically, entirely about him. I can't live my own future so I have to steal his."
"I touch him. Not really though.
Fin blinks into a soft, nonplussed expression. My heart leaps in my chest.
He looks at the space beside him, at me?
Not really though.
His eyes scan the empty seat where I should be sitting and a part of me believes he feels something. That he's searching down a path that I've dragged him down again. I feel guilty for taking him away from this moment of reprieve. Why is it so hard not to be selfish with him?"
"I touch him everywhere where he can see me in the window. I run my fingers over his forearm and love the way his veins pucker when he tenses his arm. I crawl my fingers up the sides of his neck to see if it tickles him and I get sad when it doesn't."
"'Why'd you do that? Why'd you go away?'
'What?' I ask wincing, taken aback by that. 'It's not like I meant to Kid.'
'I don't understand what's happening here!' Finny says, spinning on his heals and pacing in the other direction now. He gestures vaguely and frustratingly at thin air.
'I can't go through this again! It's just like what happened before, except now I'm losing you in pieces rather than all at once and...and...do you even know how hard that is? You were there and now you're not and why? Why are you doing this to me?'
My eyes burn with angry and uncomfortable tears. He's getting under my skin, or maybe he always was and I'm just being reminded of that.
'Hey stop it will you! You think this is easy for me either? You think I wouldn't POOF! myself into your fucking lap again if I could?'
'I'm waiting here ghost boy!' Finney shouts at me, or I guess in the general direction of where he thinks I'm standing. He's about three feet off."
"'Robin,' He utters again, 'if you heard any of that, I didn't mean it, okay? This is all so hard. All I want is for this to be real. I want to keep you so badly.'
I step closer to him, suffocating the space between us. Leaving absolutely no room for Jesus.
'Don't I know it,' I whisper back.
I like the way his bangs get tangled, and I lean in and nuzzle my temple against them. It might be coincidence, the way he closes his eyes for me. We're breathing together. It makes sense to take and give life together. I dust my nose against his cheek and then move my lips over his lips. He pacifies against me. He’s more delicate up close. I'm stroking all his sweet, soft curves and fuzzy outlines.
'This is progress though, right?' I tease him, whispering against his mouth. My voice is raspy, losing itself to the lump in my throat. I swallow it down and close my eyes too.
'Tell me you can feel this Fin.'
'Robin...' I hear Finney whisper, softer and more fragile this time, 'Is that you?'"
"'Dare me to spend the night with a ghost, Robin?'
I grin at him, my mind and heart on fire. I quirk a challenging brow at him, 'What else is new, right?'"
"'Jesus Christ,' she scorns, touching a hand to her head and clutching her hair stressfully. 'You've really gone and fallen in love with a ghost haven't you?'
I stiffen. Fin chokes on his spit. He flushes so red, he looks like a dorky beetroot. We both start rambling like idiots.
'What? Robin and I aren't...no, it's not like that—!'
Without thinking, I look sideways at him. My heart snapping in my chest as I do. 'It's not?'
Lelaine bears down on me suspiciously.
Oops. Did I just say that out loud?
I backtrack, matching Fin's panic and blurting out my own pathetic explanation, 'I mean of course it's not!'
She's not buying it, cocking her chin in my direction and telling Fin, 'He doesn't seem to know that.'
I drop my face in my hands, groaning, '¡Querido Dios! You did not just tell him that.'"
"I sigh as I spider crawl my fingers toward his hand laying on the table. I tease my index finger over his. He doesn't move. Doesn't even flinch. I look at his hand, and at him and feel unbearably empty.
'He doesn't feel it.' I whisper. 'How can this be real if he doesn't even feel it?' I sit up and look at Lelaine through misty eyes. 'Can you help us or not?'
She frowns between us, looking sceptical. 'What do you expect me to do?' She asks.
'I want to be like you.' Finney eagerly explains, 'To be able to able to see and hear ghosts and control whatever the hell is happening to me. I want Robin back. Please.'"
"'I'm not getting rid of Robin.' Finney tells her, thankfully on the same page. Not that I ever thought he wouldn't be. The sting feels a little more bearable. 'There's got to be another way.'
She looks at both of us, scowling.
'Can you honestly say you are happy living like this? Because you certainly don't look happy Finney. The harder a medium latches onto a spirit, the thinner their tether to the real world gets stretched. It's a delicate line. You need to find a way to cut that tether loose, before you end up on the wrong side of it.'
She looks at me insolently, but is speaking to Fin as she says, 'Cut him loose before it's too late.'"
"She can't force Fin to get rid of me. That's not how it's supposed to go. We're supposed to be together!
'I'm not going anywhere. You can't make me!'
'You aren't doing him any favours by sticking around here,' Lelaine shoots back. 'He can never move on if you're always around to remind him why he shouldn't.'
There's a shard pushing into my brain now. Breaking the nerve endings holding my composure at bay. Tears mist my eyes and I choke out weak and pathetic words, 'I'm not trying to hurt him. I...I love him.'
That has to be enough. That mean something! It makes this okay. Us okay. Right?
'You are hurting him Robin, even if you can't see it that way.'
'STOP IT!' Finney screams at her, drawing our attention. He gets up and slams his palms on the table fiercely. 'Stop talking to him like that! You have no clue what you're even talking about. Robin is helping me, not hurting me. I need him!'
'Trust me honey, a ghost is the last thing you'll ever need in your life.'
'But it's my life to live, isn't it? I make my own choices. Just like you. Just like my mom did! And I choose Robin, understand? So you can just leave us alone.'"
#miles spider socorro#spider socorro#neteyam sully#nocorro#jake sully#kiri sully#lo'ak sully#i mentioned it so i'll tag it lol that fandom can use a revival#because i want more of it#the black phone#robin arellano#finney blake#rinney#avatar#avatar the way of water#james cameron avatar#melissa's asks#melissa on avatar (cameron)#lol i guess i have to have a black phone tag too#melissa on the black phone
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Hi, did a matchup, idk if it's still open but I hope it is, I probably didn't give enough detail in the last one so mb. New attempt.
Basics:
Name: Alex/Axel
Gender: Demiboy, He/They/It (Trans FtM)
Sexuality: Gay
Likes: Cheese, Snakes, Anime, Stuffed Animals, fruit, Theatre, pretzels, pasta, long hot baths, dark chocolate, sour candy, music, daydreaming, kangaroos
Dislikes: all of the Vees, vegetables, odd textured foods, Sherpa, paper straws, people yelling at me
Personality: I'm a very goofy silly person, with kind of a dirty/dark sense of humor. I have abandonment issues and am very very possessive. As in someone called my friend a whore and I had to be held back by three people, possessive. Once I find someone I like, it's basically I stay calm around them, and test the waters. I'm kinda flirty with my friends too. Once I figure out where I stand with them, I'm my normal weird crazy self.
Hobbies: Crying, drawing, reading, listening to music, day dreaming, theatre
My style: Gay Lumberjack. I wear a lot of flannel and jeans, sometimes I wear something that people would call 'femboy core' like a black hot topic skirt and a cute lil sweater. Most of the time it's just a flannel, tank top and jeans though.
Love language: Everything. I have severe abandonment issues due to past friendships so I just want to be doing as many things with them as possible.
Appearance: 5'3, White Hispanic-Jew. Shoulder length brown hair, blue/grey eyes.
Shenanigans: I said a pizza I made had down syndrome, rolled around and chased people in a colorful tube thingy. moaned as a joke, and didn't know the principal was behind me. Fell off a table from laughing.
Hope this is enough information, idrk how to describe myself.
hello axel!! dw about it haha, tbh i was just totally stumped the first time you had sent in a request, anywho, i think i’ve got you figured out, so i decided to pair you with…
Husk !!
Definitely understands your protective side, although he may not reciprocate it in the same fashion, he’s protective over you too, in his own way
Husk also understands your abandonment issues, the world can be a shitty place, and not everyone is who the say they are, so he tries his hardest to show you that he’s here to stay
Genuinely does have a love for your little goofy side, to him it’s a combo of the most stupid yet cute shit he’s ever seen, like he’ll screenshot when you text him something cute for when he has a bad day, but it’s more so stupid than cute XD
#hazbin hotel#x reader#mio’s writing ! ☆#fanfiction#x y/n#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#x you#mio’s matchups ! ☆#reqs closed#hazbin husker#hazbin hotel husker#husker hazbin hotel#husk x reader#husk hazbin hotel#husker#husk#hazbin husk#hazbin hotel husk#husker x reader
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/some kind of vent
"Yeah, you were the fucking problem all along" Zoro screamed in the face of the person in front of him, his boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend "You made me feel bad, you were the fucking shit who talked to others behind my back, the one who ignored me and said I was fucking excessive, does this seem excessive enough to you!" Tears formed in his eyes, the bitter taste between the words, he just wanted to leave this alone but he couldn't just shut up.
And that's because Zoro was a patient person who let everything go, but not anymore, he couldn't stand her attitudes anymore. Every day was like a stab in the back, each word drier than the other, they were simply not made for each other anymore,
It hurt, it hurt like hell to give up the person you loved so much at some point, he knew he was going to miss those hugs, those words of affirmation, the few good times you had together, of course it would be painful.
"Zoro I…" she tried to speak.
"Get out of here, I don't want to see your face in my life" Zoro turned away trying to hide the tears that were streaming down his face "Stop it please, I'm sick of hearing all your excuses, all your bullshit towards me."
"Zoro!" the shout was heard more insistent
"Stop it already!"
"ZORO!
"ZORO!"
His eyes suddenly snapped open, his breathing quickened and the wetness of tears in his eyes, the only thing keeping him conscious was the pair of warm hands and a blue gaze full of worry and fear "Curly?" his voice came out raspy, his throat aching from the dryness.
"God Zoro you had me worried" the blond exclaimed with a tinge of relief in his voice still stroking Zoro's face trying to remove the moisture from his cheeks.
"W…what happened?" Zoro lay confused, he could feel the softness of the bed, his eyes wandered in the room, his room, their room, almost dark for the hour they were in only illuminated by the lamp on the right bedside table where Sanji illuminated his night books.
"That's what I should ask you idiot Marimo! I come from working the night shift and all I hear when I arrive is screams, for a second I thought we were being robbed or something" Zoro could feel a slight tremor in the blond's long fingers.
The green-haired man sighed trying to calm his racing heart and took Sanji's hands with his own trying to give comfort to his partner "sorry, shitty dream".
"You want to talk about it?"
"It was, kind of dumb, I don't want to remember it honestly."
Sanji let out a look of doubt "can I do anything for you?"
Zoro looked into his boyfriend's beautiful eyes, those which could express so much being an open window to his emotions whenever they met. His, delicate but skilled hands for his work which he worshiped as well. Soft blonde hair that he dearly caress, thin but lovely lips to kiss and his trademark eyebrow that he always teased was one of the things he couldn't help but love. Everything, everything about Sanji was beautiful, everything glowed, he couldn't believe how lucky he was to meet him, to be loved by him, it sounded so unreal he was always afraid it was all a damn dream where the universe would mock him for believing he can deserve anything in this life.
"Stay with me" Zoro brought his hands to Sanji's waist squeezing him to his body.
Sanji smiled and stroked his head "Here I am, well actually I want to take a bath first, I feel the sweat and grease on me, but if you give me 20 minutes I can…"
"No…"
"Marimo what are we talked about my personal hygiene?"
"No, I'm talking about always, about this relationship, stay with me always."
Sanji let out a sudden blush at Zoro's so sincere words then smiled and hugged him more.
"I don't know what kind of dream you had silly but you've become so sappy all of a sudden."
Zoro was still looking at him with serious eyes.
"Okay okay easy my dear Marimo, I will never leave, you would have to kill me or hit me hard on the head to forget such a lazy, annoying, nasty mess" Sanji paused to grab Zoro's face and plant a quick kiss on his lips "But as sweet, adorable and cute as you are" another kiss "I love you".
Zoro felt his heart racing like all the times Sanji talked so openly about him.
"I love you Curly"
#one piece#zosan#sanji#vinsmoke sanji#black leg sanji#roronoa zoro#rorona zoro fanart#zoro#sanji x zoro#zoro x sanji#fic prompt#vent tag
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after i’ve put this shadow to bed
(a prologue to the fic i’m working on for @frozenabattoir. because ava deserves a little corruption arc)
Rating: M
i keep having the same dream.
“Bea?”
in the dream, i’m standing on the shore of a lake, barefoot. pebbles and silt shifting under my toes. it’s quiet bea - so quiet you can’t even hear the water.
“Bea, where did you go?”
it occurs to me, then, that i know this place. it’s the lake in switzerland, where you taught me to swim. i remember slipping into that icy water with you and the brush of your palms on my stomach.
i remember looking at you and thinking that i would rather this than the Blue Grotto. i would take it over anything.
“There’s something on the walls, Bea. It’s so fucking dark in here, but it’s there. Can’t you hear it?”
“Dripping.”
“It’s on the windows, right? That’s why it’s dark.”
it’s daytime. there’s warmth on my skin but it’s like the warmth of a mouth, like someone breathing down my neck. it’s daytime but it’s dark.
the mountains are all wrong. they’re the wrong shape - i’m sure of it because you taught me about taking everything in and that layering technique where you sit recollections on top of each other and see where the deviation is. bea, I did that and I’m telling you - nothing is the way it should be.
i keep waiting for you to show up, but you never do.
there’s just the lake.
“It happened again, didn’t it?”
“Bea?”
“It’s blood, right? Of course it fucking is.”
i don’t mean to, but i walk into the lake.
it’s like bathwater. the way it was in the orphanage, where they actually drew the bath half an hour ago and maybe another kid was in it before me. because why waste warm water on a kid who couldn’t feel shit? why waste the cleanest water?
why fucking bother
lukewarm, that’s the word. but it isn’t the same. it’s thicker. by the time the water is up over my hips i feel like it’s holding me. i dip my hands in and they come out red.
it’s the lake in switzerland but it isn’t our lake.
“Think. Okay, we were here. Th-there were two windows, east-facing, and the door was on the right side of the bed and the bed was… fuck!”
“Okay, Bea sleeps on the right, near the door because she has throwing stars sticking up out of the bedside table like a crazy person. I’m on the left and I – right, I woke up early yesterday because the sun warmed my back!”
“I just need to find a window.”
the mountains. i’m up to my waist and i start thinking about the mountains again. about what kind of wrong they are, squinting even though it’s dark, even though it’s daytime. it’s like… remember how you explained to me about light? how objects absorb most of the wavelengths of light and we only see what’s rejected? or, i mean, reflected.
you taught me that, which is pretty cool but remember i made you watch the Pirates of the Caribbean movies and you liked them. i could tell. i think it made you feel things. for me it was always Elizabeth and the running away and the maybe dressing up as a boy sometimes. you liked that bit too.
but mostly you liked the curse. I think you felt that, didn’t you? a bunch of people cursed with hunger for, like, twelve years or something. maybe it was ten.
you were hungry too.
that’s alright with me. i think your hunger is good
i love that about you.
“I slipped in the blood.”
“Bea? Are you laughing? I can’t hear you but I fucking bet. You literally warned me never to try run through a pool of blood, with your most serious face on and everything. It scared me a bit that you thought it might be relevant.”
“I guess it’s fucking relevant now.”
“Should have listened to you.”
“Bea?”
i start swimming. like you taught me but honestly bea i feel like it’s not even me. my body is swimming but i’m stuck thinking about the mountains. the sky.
eclipsed. that’s what you’d call it. we both know about space because diego got me a bunch of books one time and sister frances thought they looked boring so she let us keep them. they were from the library but what were they gonna do? fine us? send us a bill?
you know about it because you’re beatrice.
that’s what it looks like. in the dream. it’s just a dream.
the sky… it’s like someone covered it with their hand. what’s another word for that?
occluded. sometimes when one thing interrupts another thing you can see the blockage more clearly, when otherwise it might’ve been invisible. i think sometimes that’s how we see stuff in other galaxies. as interruptions.
“Are you here, Bea? Are you lying here and I just can’t see you?”
“Are you dead?”
the sky is red. i should say it and stop avoiding it. after all bea it’s just a dream. i keep having it but that’s all. i used to have one where that guy Yoshi from the Nintendo 64 ate me. he just went, like, mlem and i was fucking gone. who donates that shit to orphans? but yeah, i have a lot of recurring dreams.
maybe that’s psychologically relevant.
the water is red too.
it isn’t water.
“…. Bea?”
i keep having the same dream. i swim out into the middle of the lake and there’s an island. not very big. it doesn’t have to be very big.
there’re a couple of trees on the island, surviving i guess in the silt and the shallow soil. you’d know the soil type and its pH and the name of the trees, but to me they’re just shadows; i’m looking at the mountains. it feels important.
i walk to the middle of the island. never understood that stuff about people saying their legs or whatever took them places without their permission. it’s something to do with habit, but you know i don’t have that stuff.
we were getting there. sometimes in the bar i forgot what my hands were doing, but that was mostly about you.
the only time i ever felt anything like that it was with you.
in the middle of the island there’s a garden, but it isn’t a garden. you can grow as many plants as you want but if a space is full of headstones then it’s a graveyard.
but there are flowers. and herbs. i can smell basil and mint. inside the trees i almost can’t smell what’s in the lake.
remember when i got you one of those little basil pots you get in the supermarket and you gave me this convoluted look? then you went in the bathroom for ten whole minutes while i put things away in the fridge. yeah, i know you re-did my work later, by the way. i just feel like finding stuff in the fridge should be an adventure.
i hope i didn’t make you cry. you re-potted the basil plant and told me a bunch of stuff about horticulture, how these herbs were never really produced with the ability to survive. too much neglect in transit.
i almost made you forget about the graves, huh? we should forget about it.
it’s just a dream. never mind that the mountains look like hands, like knucklebones and the sweep of a thumb. never mind that the water is blood. never mind that the sky is gone.
i stand in the graveyard looking at the headstones and it’s like there’s a hand pressed into my back. not in a comforting way.
you’re doing long division in your head about it, right?
but the implication is pretty obvious and, also, i don’t think long division will help here, but i like that you taught it to me. that and square roots and coefficients and polynomials. i liked how you didn’t seem surprised when i was good at it.
i like you.
i’m sorry about all the blood.
#dark!ava au#myfic#wn fic#warrior nun#continuing my agenda to let each of the girlies go off the rails for a bit#something Happened to the halo on the other side#post s2#amber i owe you my life for this idea it's going to be so fun to write#& putting blood in the narrative is my specialty#oh! title is from this is how you lose the time war
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a court of love & scars
part 2 is more build up to the story and background. don't worry it'll get spicy soon;) 18+
tw: past SA
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Part 2 Gwen
My eyes danced around the faces in the room. I looked to the high lord of the night first, Rhysand, I had only heard whispers of him amongst the prisoners that had died long ago, horrible fearsome things about him. Devastatingly handsome while the two females on either side were breathtaking.
"Welcome to my court, princess Gwen, a living legend!" Rhysand speaks first, I tried, and failed, to smile. He looked between me and Azriel, who had gone silent. "I'm Rhys, and this is my High Lady Feyre, and my cousin Mor," he gestured between the two females.
"Thank you," I managed, my voice hoarse and raspy from years of not being used. "Thank you for your kindness," I said just a little bit louder this time.
"Our home, is yours. I will have a room made up for you and Azriel will show you where you can bathe." Rhys says, with a kind smile. Not at all what I had expected. The two females were gaping at me, especially the one called Mor, and I wondered if it was the same Mor I had heard of in the cellar. I didn't get much information while in captivity. In the past maybe 75 years? 100? I had been alone down there thrown scraps whenever they remembered me, but other than that... Alone. "Thank you." I say again, I didn't know what else there was to say. I hadn't spoken to anyone in centuries. With that Azriel turned and headed for the stairs.
"See? Safe, I told you." Just a small smile tugged at my lips at his words I wasn't sure how I managed it, for him, that's why. My savior. "Nuala and Cerridwen will help you clean up," he looks down at me, "I'll be right outside. You're safe," he must have seen the panic in my eyes knowing that he was leaving me alone. I didn't know him. Why did I feel like that? Protected. Just because he saved me?
"What happened to the spring court?" I ask finally, I had been wanting to ask for a long time. My family. He had said that Tamlin was the only one left. "It- It fell.. In the war. They went against Tamlin and-" He started but I cut him off. "Tamlin is the high lord of Spring," I say, it was his father when I was taken, he nods. So much I had missed. So many I couldn't say goodbye to. Azriel was still holding me, I didn't mind it, he was so warm, strong, tall. His smell was intoxicating; cedar, and the mist of night. He carried me into the bathroom and set me down on a small cushioned bench by the door. Everything was beautiful the room and bathroom were made up of dark blues and black with silvery accents. The twins appeared through the opposite wall and Azriel nodded to them and looked at me again. "I'll be right outside," it was my turn to nod and look down at my feet not able to meet anyone's gaze anymore realizing just how disgusting I was. I had only been 17 when I was taken to Hybern. Whisked away from my family, from my studies, from my training as a seer, from the husband I was supposed to wed, whisked away from the duties of the Spring Court, whisked away to be locked away, beaten, raped, tortured.
The two females approached me silently, not saying a single word as they undressed me, laying Azriels shirt and leather over the side of the bench next to me. The two helped me up and I staggered a bit so utterly weak, it didn't feel real. None of it did. But, it was he had come for me. I had seen him, in my dreams, he was there. The Shadowsinger, in my dream, they had whispered to me, told me he was coming, the shadows had held me in my dream, carried me. And the hands, the scarred hands. I remembered them. Impossible to forget when it had been the first dream, the first thing closest to a dream in hundreds of years. I was in the tub now, they had lifted me into the warm water, it enveloped me. I wondered how long they would let me enjoy it. I told myself I would take another bath tonight, I would stay for hours tonight.
They were careful, gentle but thorough as they scrubbed me. Scrubbed away years of dirt and grime, carefully washed my hair that was so long I didn't even know how they managed it. It was down past my feet now as it hadn't been cut in ages. Nothing had been done to care for me besides throwing me slop when remembered which I had ate like an animal with my hands. I didn't remember what food tasted like. It had been so long. So long. How did I end up here? In the Night Court. When they were finished with me they dressed me, the dress didn't fit, it was big on me and they hummed about getting my measurements, it was the only thing they said, and it wasn't to me. "Thank you," I breathe as they carefully comb through my hair they only smiled in response before drying it with some spell and then just like that they were gone. And there I was sitting in front of the vanity staring back at myself. I hadn't seen myself since I had been taken. My cheekbones were sharp, cheeks hollow and my pale green eyes sunken in. Horrible. And then there was a knock. "Come in," I barely got out loud enough.
Azriel stopped in his tracks when I turned and met his eyes. He looked over me as if he was taking me in for the first time and he opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. I could feel my face heat with the intensity of his stare and he must have noticed because he cleared his throat. "You must be hungry," he continued to advance toward me and stopped in front of me. "Can you walk?" he asks and I just nod. "A little bit," I say and take his outstretched hand, he helps me to my feet and my knees wobble but I steady and he slowly helps me back to the dining room. The only ones left there were the High Lord and Lady. I wondered if they stayed for me. "Welcome," Feyre speaks for the first time, a warm smile covering her beautiful face. "Thank you," I say, sitting down with Azriels help and he sits down next to me. I could tell they had questions, I could see it in their eyes but I knew they didn't want to ask, they looked at me like a doe that they didn't want to scare. I wasn't scared though, not next to Azriel, and I couldn't explain it but I felt so close to him, like I had known him for years. Looking into those hazel eyes that seemed to only soften when they landed on me, soften yet intensify in a different way...
"I know I am believed to be dead. And I'm sorry for.. For just showing up here on your door step I .. I can't thank you enough for your kindness," I say, looking between them. Azriel had began piling food onto my plate considering I hadn't moved, was just sitting there hands in my lap. But the smell? I hadn't smelled real food in years. "Eat," Azriel coaxes quietly and I pick up my fork resisting the urge to dig in like a heathen.
Azriel
"No, don't be sorry. I'm glad that Azriel found you. No one deserves to endure what I'm sure you went through in Hybern," Rhys says back to her, I wince in the slightest as I filled my own plate. I was lost for words, not that I spoke much anyway but what was there really to say? She was eating now, and I noticed that she was forcing herself to eat slowly, I wondered when the last time had been.
"You are nice," she observes looking at Rhys. "Are you sure this is the Night Court?" she asks me now, she was smiling just the tiniest bit, joking, she was joking. Rhys is the first to laugh, and then Feyre. I couldn't, but I smiled and sucked my teeth.
"For someone who has been locked up for centuries I admire your sense of humor about things," Rhys was pleased, he liked her, that was rare. "I can't say your cousin has fared the same," he snickers and I shoot him daggers we aren't there yet Rhys. She wouldn't know the dynamic, she wouldn't know anything. She wouldn't know her family killed Rhys' sister and mother. She wouldn't know about Amarantha or how Feyre left the Spring Court. About how it was Feyres fault the Spring Court fell. Everything, everything, would have to be explained.
"He's never been funny," she quips earning another laugh from Rhys. They spoke of politics and changes over the years she had been gone just light conversation, nothing heavy but I could tell it was a lot for her I could tell the toll it was starting to take realizing just how long she had been down there. When they had excused themselves the silence lay thick between us. I wanted to, but I didn't know how to break it.
"I saw you," her voice is barely a whisper, her food was gone now, nothing left on the plate I had tried to serve seconds but she had denied it. "In a dream. I think... I think I knew you were coming to save me," she cleared her throat, cheeks burning under my gaze as I gaped. Her flush face stirred something deep inside me, every time I felt that tug that was starting to become familiar. Had she beckoned me? Without knowing? Did she have some power to pull people to her? Was that where the feeling was coming from? "I think about.. Three weeks ago? Maybe less. I didn't believe it but then you came. And.. And I'm here it doesn't seem real but I'm here." She fumbled for words and I just stared back.
"I don't know how I found you," I mumble pathetically, leaning back in my seat, I couldn't handle the eye contact anymore. It was far more intense than anything else I had experienced lately. She didn't say anything, shrinking back in her seat a bit as if my response embarrassed her. Dammit.
"There's a library I can show you," I managed, trying to save the moment but then realized I didn't even know if she could read and I cursed myself. I awkwardly scratched the back of my neck. "If-If you um, like that sort of thing," I added. I didn't want to blatantly ask if she knew how to read. "And Elain, Feyres sister, she's a gardener, you'll meet her soon I'm surprised she's not around yet, she might be in the garden, I know you will be fast friends." I offer, not even knowing what to say. I never spoke this much, usually preferring to sit back and observe rather than partake in the main conversation. "She has another sister too, Nesta, she's not staying here right now.. But, she will visit, sometime," I add not really knowing what to say.
"The gardens are beautiful," she says, and I smile and nod in agreement. "And I used to love to read but.. But I think today I just want to rest," I nodded standing up and offering my hand to help her back up to her room. "I'll be around today, if you need anything," I say as I helped her get to her room she was walking a little more easily her golden curly locks falling at the floor behind her feet as we walked. I couldn't help myself. "Your hair, is.. It's beautiful," I breathe finding myself a bit intoxicated by the smell of her now that she was clean, like lilac and fresh dew.
"Thank you," she blushed again, I swallowed hard and nodded standing at her door now and she eventually dropped my hand, I casually ran it through my hair, just fidgeting as I didn't know how to behave around her. "Again, if there's anything you need. I'll be here today." I look down at her face, she was quite short, barely reaching my chest, I wondered if it was the years of malnourishment that stunted her growth, she was as short as Amrin. I wasn't suppose to be home today but I wanted to be there, for her. "Okay, thank you Azriel," my name sounded like honey on those lips, I felt that pull stir deep within me, something inside me screaming for me to wrap her up and hug her. "Of course, rest little one," I say softly and leave her in her room, she shuts the door behind me and I turn, letting out a long breath.
I ask the shadows where Rhys is and we find him in the study, hunched over his desk a bit wings tucked neatly behind him. I cleared my throat and he slowly peeled his eyes from what he was doing. "Az, sit," he says, I do, taking up one of the chairs on the opposite side of his desk. "And how's the princess settling in?" He asks, now leaning back a bit into his chair.
"I'd say, remarkably well, considering," I say, and it was true. I didn't know how she was settling in so well she trusted me... Instantly almost. Maybe because of her dream, she saw me, saving her
"You know," Rhys says thoughtfully, putting his hand on his chin and rubbing gently. "Her father was very powerful he could shapeshift and had the brute strength of the Spring Court, he was like Tamlin. Her mother was a very powerful healer.. The princess could prove to be quite a useful addition to our team.. You know if she wishes to stay," Rhys looks at me a smirk of amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth as the shadows flared up around me in protest at the thought of her as a part of the team. Fighting along side us. I didn't say anything I stewed quietly in my chair as I stared back at Rhys. "How did you find her Az?" He asks, still looking quite amused.
I softened, relaxing in my chair a little bit. "I think she called to me, she's like Elain," I mumbled not letting my eyes stray away, anything concerning her I wanted him to know I was serious. "Another seer," Rhys muses, I nod, I felt so drawn to protect her I couldn't place why. "They weakened her so much she hadn't had a vision since she saw her family mourning her.. But she saw me coming, in a dream," the last part I said quietly, it felt almost embarrassing for some reason.
"Called to you?" He repeated slowly, studying my face. "Yes- There was a pull-" Rhys cut my words off with a laugh.
"Careful Az, you might find a bond on the end of that tug,"
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other parts
#acotar fic#acotar smut#azriel fic#azriel fanfic#azriel smut#azriel#acotar fanfiction#a court of thorns and roses#azriel fan fiction
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Apps that I downloaded to help me be less stinky - A report of first impressions mostly.
Health
Chronic insights:
First impressions: Very detailed. For everything they offer up front for free, it's great. There's a long list of symptoms you can add to your daily log to monitor, plus the option of adding something else. You can either log the severity/time/duration or just that it occurred. The only issue I have is that I can't set a reminder to log my symptoms.
1 week report:
1 month report:
Pillo:
First impressions: I've used this before. It's pretty basic, but also not my favorite app. Adding new meds to take at the same time is convoluted.
1week:
1month:
Mental health
Prompted Journal:
First impressions: First impressions are swoon worthy. The people that designed this app obviously care about helping people unravel their brains. It is a donation based project, so while you do need to pay for more than 2 prompts a day and color customization, everything else is free. There's no data collection!
1 week report:
1 month report:
Dailyo:
First impressions: Simple, aesthetically pleasing mood tracker. I use this to monitor my overall mood of the day and one or two thoughts. There's ads on the top and bottom but they fit the color scheme so I'm not perturbed.
1 week report:
1 month report:
Hygiene
Routine Flow:
First impressions: I just use this to remind myself to brush my teeth and track how often I bathe. You can use it for other reminders and productivity monitoring if you want but I just needed it for this particular use.
1 week report:
1 month report:
Tasks/vision board-
Miscellaneous
Wondr note:
First impressions: It's literally 3 dollars for full use of the app. I use this to keep track of my tasks for the day. It appeals to me because I can customize the board to appeal to me aesthetically. I tend to enjoy task apps more when I can fiddle around with the colors and fonts and add pictures.
My only real gripe is that I wish I could customize the size of each picture on the vision board/ the size of each column to have a sort of scrap book effect. I also would like to be able to go back and look at previous entries, but I can't see a way to do that. You could also use this app to journal ideas and dreams but I just use it when I wake up and need to list my priorities for the day.
1 week report:
1 month report:
Vision board:
First impressions: It's cute! You can a bunch of pictures and then edit the music and play a little slide show to inspire you. The other settings aren't very intuitive for me tho? Check back later.
1 week report:
1 month report:
Dreamkit:
First impressions: Great dream journal. You can go into as much or as little detail you want to about the dreams you have. Each entry has the option of summary, characters, place, mood, and what variety of dream it is ( lucid, fever, nightmare, etc. )
1 week report: Nothing new to report, I continue to use the app for its purposes. I have it on my home screen so I remember to document the dreams I have first thing upon waking should I feel the need to.
1 month report:
Photophobic screen apps
Darker:
First impressions:This app is one of 2 that I've been using to make my phone screen more tolerable to look at. It basically makes the screen darker than your darkest setting. You can choose which color to coat your screen if you aren't a fan of the weird red orange that the blue light filter uses, however most of the colors are in the red spectrum. I would like to choose dark purple, however I have to pay for that and I'm not going to. As I already kind of use a blue light filter I just opted to make the screen darker than my phone can make it for when I'm on bed at night or have a migraine. In order to edit the settings you have to hold down the icon and select settings, just pressing the icon will only turn the settings on and off.
1 week report:
1 month report:
Twilight:
First impressions: Your phone already comes with a blue light filter, but this app lets you customize how much of that filter affects your screen. You can dim the screen more, add more filters, color temperature, intensity, etc.
It's a neat little app.
1 week report: The only real concern that I have about using this app is I'm worried that in my attempt to prevent migraines and eye strain by making things dimmer, am I causing eye strain because it's too dim? Time will tell.
1 month report:
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A Very Cute Neighbor (Part 5)
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)
After a tough day at work you were ready to be home. Your dream of the bakery plaguing your mind more often lately. You used to enjoy your job and thought about the bakery as an escape, but not anymore. It was a need growing deep inside of you to own your own business one day and make a career out of your passion. You sighed, pressing the call button for the elevator. The desire for a hot bubble bath rising to the surface as you groan, tipping your head back to stretch your neck.
“Rough day?”
You snap you head up to see Shownu looking at you. He had a knowing smile on his face. His backpack slung over his shoulder, but his normal professional attire had been traded for a pair of joggers and a loose shirt.
It had been almost a week of not seeing him and you had caught yourself thinking about him more often these last few days. Especially since the dream you had that kept coming back. It was a pleasant dream, but it was also a wet dream. And seeing him now in a pair of gray joggers and a thin white t-shirt was too alluring.
“Yes. What about you? Where’s your suit?” You blush at being so forward after you scrabble from gawking at him.
He shrugs. “I work out sometimes.”
“Okay,” you nod turning back as the elevator dings and the doors open.
You both step inside of it and he pushes the button for your floor. The doors close and you have to look at the floor. The reflection of him next to you sparked something inside of you. It felt out of the blue, but at the same time it didn’t.
“What happened?” He asks after a moment, his voice thicker. His gaze was glued to your reflection, hand tightening on his backpack strap.
“I hate my job,” you say softly. “I used to love it, but I have this crazy idea about owning my own business-.”
“What kind?” He asks, cutting you off. Interesting reflecting in his tone.
You lift your gaze to his and immediately look away. Something in those dark depths of his eyes stirred even more. You needed the elevator to open and soon.
“A bakery.” You answer, your breathe coming out quickly.
“I like cake.” He responds, his tone shifting and your eyes flash to his. He steps closer and you inhale. You wanted to reach out and touch him, but you didn’t.
The doors opened to your floor and you exhaled stepping off quickly. What was going on with you? Yes, he was attractive and smart, but you never acted like this. And maybe it had been a while since you had felt another’s touch, but that didn’t give you permission to get so flustered from a simple elevator ride.
“I was thinking about cooking tonight. Would you join me this time?” He asks pulling you out of your thoughts at your front door.
You look at him in surprise. “Sure.”
He smiles taking a step back. “See you in an hour.”
….
A hot soak with peaceful quiet and a fresh set of comfy clothes later you were knocking on his door and he answered with a glass of wine ready to go. You take it as he ushers you in while you drop your phone and keys on the counter. His hand brushes your back as he passes you to go back into the kitchen.
“Here you go,” he says pulling a stool out for you. His gaze dragging over you from the tips of your toes to your head. A warm blush blooms on your cheeks as you move forward. “You look comfy now.”
“Very,” you respond, taking the seat as your hands brush down your t-shirt and leggings. He steps back, returning to the stove.
You begin to admire his apartment. It was clean and had tasteful decorative pieces. It was him down to the little pieces that tied it all together, it had a strangely perfect balance to it. You turn back to him and he is watching you with an amused expression.
“Did you decorate your apartment?” You ask taking a much needed sip of wine.
“No, my mother did. She owns an interior decorating firm.” He is back behind the counter, chopping. “Is it that obvious?”
“No.”
He laughs a little at your lie before putting everything in a saucepan. You look down at the butcher block counter top and trace the pattern in the grain of the wood. It was nice to distract yourself from him. His essence surrounding you flooded your senses and was distracting.
“How long have you worked at your job?” He asks pulling you back to the present conversation.
You look up again. “Six years. I started right after college. My parents were thrilled.”
He moves closer to refill your wine glass. You hadn’t even realized you had finished the first.
“Careful, you’ll get me tipsy.” You murmur and he quirks an eyebrow. He had seen you drink a lot more at Louis and Daphne’s and you had been fine. You clear your throat. “I didn’t eat lunch today.”
“You should take better care of yourself,” he reprimands, his tone shifting to a more authoritative tone. “Make sure you eat.”
It surprised you as you took a sip and set the glass down.
He clears his throat, his tone shifting back to normal, “do your parents know you hate your job?”
“Umm… they passed away,” you say gently and he pauses. His gaze lifting to yours. “Car accident almost three and a half years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
You shrug. “You didn’t cause it.”
He nods, stirring his ingredients as they sizzle and the aroma begins to fill the room, he moves around the counter offering you a sample out of another pot. You take it and smile at him.
“That is amazing! I thought you didn’t know a lot about cooking?”
“I asked my mother to show me a few things,” he confesses and you see a slight blush color his cheeks. “I wanted to be able to host once.”
“That’s so sweet of you Shownu. I will let Daphne and Louis know and I’m sure they would not mind, I know I don’t if it tastes this amazing.”
He laughs admiring you long enough that it makes you blush.
(Part 6)
#monsta x fic#monsta x#shownu#shownu fic#shownu one shot#shownu fancfic#shownu fluff#monsta x one shot#monsta x fluff#monsta x shownu#shownu monsta x
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Alairie Persu
Chapter 8
The long carriage ride eventually stopped. I was untied. We had to walk around five miles to the border to prevent being sniffed out as spies. If they saw the carriage I’m sure things would have been fine but Clavis insisted it was a ‘necessary precaution’. After passing through the border we managed to scramble to the Inn. It was dark and wet by the time we got there. They had even started turning the lanterns and lamp posts out. We had made it just in time.
“Here’s the keys to your room ma’am. It’s the one on the left at the end of the corridor.”
“Thank you.” I took the keys from her and gestured to Clavis. We walked through the rowdy drunkards in the pub and walked upstairs to the room designated for us. It was lovely. Much fancier than what I had expected, the room was surprisingly well furnished. Lovely wooden accents all painted in a dark maroon. Faux mahogany. All the pillows were grey and green. It had a pleasing colour palette. I mean it was definitely a commoner's cheap room but it was perfect for the nights.
“This is worse than I thought. We only have one bed and a communal bathroom with everyone else staying here.” Clavis grumbled. I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or being annoying. It almost sounded like he was trying to wind me up.
“We have chamber pots and one of us will sleep on the floor.”
“Thank you for volunteering.” Clavis grinned. I didn’t care. After sleeping on hard stone in the cell for ages, sleeping on wood seemed like a dream. As long as I got a blanket and a cushion, I was fine. Clavis huffed as he fell back onto the bed. “Pull my boots off,” he demanded. I did as he asked and managed to yank the boots that had suctioned to his legs. He then demanded me again and again, eventually only leaving him in his undershirt and undergarments. Apparently, I was now his maid. “I want a bath.”
“Too bad. You’re going to have to fill it up yourself.” I said as I motioned to the small tin bathtub hanging on the wall. He looked at it and sighed as he got up and got it down, placing it on the small carpet. He glared at me with eyes I couldn’t read. His ‘beast’ was showing. Yet again, being tired and journeying long distances tended to show a different side of people. Aggravation. “Do you have any money? I’m hungry. While you have a bath I can go down to the bar and order food?”
“And give you the opportunity to run away? Absolutely not. There’s bread, cheese and meat in that bag.” I walked over to the bag he mentioned and took some of the food out. Sitting on the window sill I watched the town outside. It was nearly impossible to see but the moon illuminated everything with a blue glow. Merchants running with their wheelbarrows to their homes, drunkards sitting around the fountain and women casually sitting on their laps.
“Why did you choose to stay here? There’s literally a brothel below us- no shame if you’re into that I guess,” I munched. By the time it took for me to eat and gaze outside, Clavis had half-filled the tub.
“I wasn’t the one who did. Anyway, we are common-folk now and this was the cheapest. Keep your back turned, unless you want to see me naked of course.” His entertainment laced his deep voice.
“Nothing would horrify me more. But I’m just saying, expect a lot of… noises tonight. This is a rough place. I bet a lot of violence will go down outside.” The sound of water swashing filled the space between us.
“Thanks for the concern but I’m not a child,” he quipped. “You’re a drug dealer, this is your kind of domain right? Drug addicts, violent people, prostitutes, drunkards… you’re surely used to this? You probably even participated in these ac-”
“I have personal morals and ethics. I never went to places like this. These are the places where people who are ready to die come. Anyway, that’s enough of this.” I affirmed, ending the conversation. We sat in silence. The sounds of water gently letting waves of sleep come over me. Once Clavis was finished, he hung up the tub and walked to me.
“Your hands, my love.” Clavis had tied me up harshly to avoid me from escaping. Both my wrists and feet were attached to the legs of the bed. It kept me in an uncomfortable plank position. If I wanted to, I could have melded into the floorboards right there. “There we go. All bound up.” I glared at him.
“Some weird consummation rituals you have in Rhodolite.” I was going to be stiff in the morning. That being said, I was too tired to argue with him. He snorted before replying with eyes filled of stone.
“I can’t risk you doing anything. Good night.” He explained. Blowing the candles out,
he got into the bed and soon all the noises disappeared. His gentle breathing was the only thing I heard. He was easy to fall asleep. I couldn’t. My body was stuck. I couldn’t lay properly. I, eventually, closed my eyes and forced something to take me away, whether it be sleep or death.
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Don't Think Twice
Word Count: ???
Notes / Warnings: Unnamed female OC, two lines of physical description. Small twist, nothing crazy.
Title and song referenced is Don't Think Twice by Hikaru Utada (Kingdom Hearts 3)
My Masterlist
Enjoy xx
why do you say my name , even though it hurts you ?
He found that couldn't escape his ever-present thoughts as he carried on throughout the town. The questions without answers, doubts and suspicions, regrets and thing he could not afford to forget would not leave him be. They clouded his vision, so he could no longer see the path in front of him. There was voice deep within his mind that taunted him with every step, a voice that compelled him to turn himself around in shame. It was difficult to not give into it. There was little light leading through the darkness he had shrouded himself in. He was just a shadow, stretched far from the light.
"Hey!" She called out to him, loud and unapologetic. He was jolted out from his self-processing, truly opening his eyes to take in the sight of the girl bathed in sunlight. It looked good on her, as it always did. With pouted lips and furrowed brows, she inspected his face as if he wasn't even really standing before her, "Are you even awake yet?"
how did I live in a kingdom of thieves ?
The girl looked deep into his eyes, as they acted as a window to his soul. Standing on the tips of her toes in her attempt to even out the difference in their height, she stared unblinkingly, giving him a perfect view of her blue eyes. The sapphire jewels shining through shades of silver and violets, orbs that glowed as perfect as dew drops on iris petals. They were not simple, for she was not a simple girl.
"There you are." She smiled once she recognised the faintest signs of life, even if it was slightest twitch of his eyes as he stared back down at her. It was better than nothing, as he was not a man known for emoting on any scale. She wasn't particularly bothered by that trait of his, she and developed ways of reading him like a book. He was more open to her anyway.
and people who say things they don't really mean, really mean
Now having his full, conscious attention, the girl carried on, along the road, with a bounce in her step. She clasped her hands behind her back, and skipped ahead of him as she took in the lovely clear sky overhead. "Ahh, it's so nice out." With the autumn sun seeping into her skin, she gave her dress a twirl, the flow-y white fabric floating as she did so. Watching her glide around in the dress had brought the image of white doves to his mind, however at this moment she seemed more elegant, like a swan. No matter what bird she reminded him of, especially in that delicate dress, she would always be angelic in his eyes. A piece of paradise, in the most unlikely place. Caught up with playful minx, as she was the apple of his eye, he had absentmindedly responded to her, "Hmm."
you're only everything I ever dreamed, ever dreamed of, ever dreamed of
"Hmm?" She came to a halt just to give him a disappointed look. While he had agreed that the day so far had been just fine - quiet, warm and sunny - he clearly wasn't enjoying it as much as an ordinary person. He wasn't taking advantage of this rare occasion, where he could actually think to himself and take a breather without being harassed by his own kind. She was certain that he wasn't aware of this unique opportunity to just let himself relax. Spinning around on her heel, her skirt twirling around with her, she leaned closer to him - knowing full well that she already had his audience, he hadn't exactly taken his eyes off her yet. Completely enamoured. And with her smile, that damned smile, she had him obsessed. "Come on, let's not waste it."
She snatched his hand, holding it tight between her own as she pulled him along. She was in a rush, to a destination he did not know. She tugged him along off the beaten path, toward the very edge of Fortuna, where nature was dominant rather than the religious constructs. She charged along at pace he struggled to match with ease, and she had noticed. "Can't keep up?!"
Her laughter made his heart feel light, weightless rather than the void in his chest that it usually was. It reminded him that this very moment was real, that she was real and he was alive. There wasn't a single doubt in his mind, and just for a second, he stopped overthinking things.
Once they had found themselves in the shade of the autumn foliage, she had let him go to run ahead. "Race you there!" She shouted back to him as she ran, barefoot, over the fallen leaves. Soon enough, he would only catch a glimpse of her hair so black, against skin so white, as she weaved between the trees. the contrast of her natural hair only served to make her more an haunting oddity, though one sought as a prize and admired thusly. A pang of panic hit his chest every time he had lost sight of her, but knew better than to actually worry she would disappear. Even so, he chased her through the woods with an eagerness to see where she would take him.
He followed the mixture of gravel and dirt along the narrow path, catching small glimpses of her as she lead the way, until he came upon her staring out over a small brick ledge, overlooking the forest and lake, as well as Fortuna Castle in the distance. Standing on top of an aged, wooden bench, she tried to peer as far as she could into the horizon, just to take in as much as she possibly could. She turned to devil beside her, as he had finally caught up to her, with a smug look.
"Finally! Where have you been?" She laughed at him, jesting as she usually would, before hopping off the bench to wander past him to inspect some flowers that had caught her eye.
you must be kidding me, did you really think I could say no ?
Plucking one of the flowers just she had something to twist between her fingers idly, she moved back over the brick ledge that separated her from the forest below her. The sky was streaked with hues of rose as the sun began to sink, shining a new light over the world. The water of the lake was cast in honeyed tones of gold, glittering over the surface, beautiful and dreamlike. "Isn't it pretty?"
He hesitated to give her any answer, perhaps because it wasn't the view he was focusing on at the moment. In a daze, he drawled out a "Yeah." but did not sound ultimately convincing. She gazed over her shoulder, to scoff at his unflinching at stare that was squared solely on her. "Pfft, not me, the view." She tossed him the flower, a white belladonna lily that most certainly did not belong in these woods. He caught it, and admired it himself, before noticing that the entire area around this lookout had these flowers blooming. It was the perfect frame for the perfect view.
I want you for a lifetime
"What are you doing?" He asked as he watched the girl before him jump up onto the bricks that lined the overlook edge. He wasn't sure exactly why he had bothered to ask, he did not expect a reasonable answer from her. "What's it look like?" She amused him, as she carefully treadled over the rough surface of the brickwork, one foot in front of the other, toe to heel. She kept her arms out for balance, especially when she wobbled. Her sense of equilibrium threatened to cave in with every step - though more so when she gazed down from the ledge to the fall below her. Trees would catch her if she fell that way, but it would not be kind to her in anyway.
The devil crossed his arms, not impressed with her constant inane sensibility that he would find himself dealing with no matter where they were. She had the heart of a child - she had never quite realised she had grown up. Even though the battles, strife and bloodshed that had been shared between them, it never dampened her spirit. It was almost admirable, then again, it could have been her stubbornness shining through. "You're going to fall." He felt like a parent scolding their child, but she always found a way of making others worry about her antics.
She smiled, "And you're going to catch me."
so if you're gonna think twice, baby, I don't wanna to know, baby, I don't wanna know,
She was so confident with her words, as if every single one she breathed was definitive fact. He had scoffed at it, thinking that she was painfully naive, however it was that some naivity that was refreshing. A purity that was rare to encounter, and again, it was found in the oddest of places. The girl was likely to slay a man where he stood, by blade or bullet, as she would to be intrigued by flowers, or birds.
And so he revealed the slightest smile to her, that appeared to be genuinely sweet. The most precious and rarest of sights to grace his face. Something worth the wait. It was the kind of smile - that he would often fight against - that her heart fluttery but more so, it made him just that little bit more human in her eyes.
"I haven't seen that look in a long time." As soon as she drew attention to it, his smile had fallen, returning to his usual scowl-like expression. It only proves that his smiles were no myth, that it was possible to see that man looking like he isn't unimpressed by everything, ever. "Promise me that you'll smile like that again. I still haven't taken a picture of it yet."
He turned away, ignoring her joke, "No promises."
"Why am I not surprised?" She sounded blue. He gazed over to find that she did appear to be somewhat frustrated, with herself, more than him. Running her fingers through her hair, she asked herself out loud, "Why did I pick you?"
She had presented him with a question he wanted answers to himself, "Why did you?"
everything is just right,
She paused mid-step, her eyes flickering the drop to her right before returning to her own feet. Something in her mind faltered as she searched for the answer, she was sure she knew it. Why she had picked him, out of anyone in the whole world, to stand beside - why she had been so blind to offer him her heart over those who would have been suitable.
"Who knows..."
It was all she could say. To her, leaving that mystery there was better than what she assumed was the actual answer - that he seemed, ironically, more fun than anyone else. It didn't sound right - he was more entertaining? No, more interesting than the rest? She never really considered if he was would be able to cater to her every need, if he could provide her with everything she'd ever need from him like with a normal relationship. She hadn't even thought of whether he was the emotionally healthy option - would he even make her happy? These things never came to mind, because there was really no need for them to, in her eyes. Though she couldn't describe how exactly, he was enough and more than she ever wanted. Sure, he could be stubborn, selfish and arrogant at times but he was more than the cold, hardened persona he put on. He was the only man she'd ever need and want.
but if you're gonna think twice, baby, I don't wanna know, baby, I don't wanna know
"Maybe it's because I knew, you'd never let me down - never again." She thought out loud, as she wandered back and forth across the brickwork. Occasionally she would stumble as she stepped, and he was more than ready to snatch her from the ledge before she could fall down. However, she never lost balance, but she was quite aware of how he flinched with every falter, and for whatever reason, it made her smile. "And I was right."
"No, you weren't." He snapped back, not willing to accept her kindness because it was so adamantly naive. She wasn't right about him. She wasn't right to be with him, especially after all this time. He was a selfish creature, more demon than man, who had no right to have anyone like her beside him. He was a user, and there were times he had exploited her for his own gain. And yet, she stayed. It was stupid - they were both stupid for trying to keep whatever this was alive. "You should have known better."
Her hands balled into fists at her sides even as she soldier on, trod carefully over the ledge. She tried not to think about it. She tried to ignore that self-deprecating nature of his. She tried, so damned hard. To no avail, she felt her fury bubble in the pit of stomach. Shoulders tense, she tried to keep her thoughts to herself. He thinks he's so goddamn bad, like he's the spawn of Satan himself but he's not. He's the Son of Sparda, and while he wasn't exactly living up to his father's legacy in the best way, it did not make him a monster. Even then, monsters don't deserve to be alone. "Always so, frustrating." She had managed to seethe out through gritted teeth. She released a deep sigh, as her body began to relax again. She no longer saw red, even she was still bothered by him, and gazed his way, "Never change."
And so, she flashed him one last smile before she turned to face him, and let herself go.
"Wait - "
He reached out to her, as she willingly fell backward. Her dress rustled as she descended, her hair in her face and yet, even though she was falling so far down, she still had that smile of hers. Vergil was more than ready to dive down and catch her, to throw himself off this ledge and try and save her. He didn't. He knew better. He knew that she was in no real danger, that she wouldn't even hit the ground. Even as her body slowly dispersed in glittering white lights, the ghost that haunted him fading from his sight, his heart was still in his throat. Soon enough, she was gone again - though she was never really here, with him. Another delusion, a haunting illusion of his former lover. He cursed at himself for being fooled by it again, but she was just so real, just like the lily she had thrown to him, it was real.
The breath of the season filled the air, the autumn breeze carrying the reds, oranges and yellows before letting them fall to the ground. Vergil's hair had been rustled by the cool breeze, and though it bothered him, he made no sudden moves. He could hear it. His name, being called upon within the wind. A whisper, just for him to hear, a haunting chime to give him faith.
"Vergil ... I had no regrets."
Hearing her voice, he gazed up to the sky, embracing the gentle breeze as it was a small comfort to him, one of few over these long, lonely years.
#devil may cry#devil may cry vergil#devil may cry fanfic#devil may cry fanfiction#vergil#vergil x reader#vergil x oc#x reader#x oc#reader#oc#dmc vergil#dmc fanfic#dmc fanfiction#dmc#fanfiction#fanfic#oneshot#vergil my love
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Had a strange dream where I found a uncommon/rare Ghibli movie in a charity store called something like "Journey of Opelia" and the cover art was this girl in a stream under the water like mid doggy paddle or something with camera view showing her and outside the water with green hills blue sky's fluffy white clouds very scenic, also a random metal grey pipe. And like the story was about this girl I assume called Opelia and she was some kind of experiment who survived a nuclear fall out disaster surviving in the post apocalyptic wasteland only being alive because of the nuclear experiments she went through and it was like her job/roll to leave the comforts of what was her shelter which was a barely held together wooden shed essentially in this really dark cloudy muddy murky landscape and venture out to find the spirits of nature I'm pretty sure to make them return? So the world could start healing as they'd naturally left when everything went to pot and like that was the plot, cause I think the dream implies she was the only link left between humanity and nature which dang no pressure least I think the dvd cover in the dream says it. But this movie had dream lore that it's English dub release had massive censoring/editing and was renamed "Journey of Orpelia" and the girl in the cover art was vastly different like to the point they'd given her different hair color and style and her clothes which in the sub cover were tatty wasteland clothes with floaty water physics and coloring had been changed to this oversized white jumper with no water physics or coloring from the water cause damn things change but apparently not this white jumper that covered her entirely essentially and like idk what English release did to change the movie or why but it was some deep lore so you could only get the original movie via the original sub the dub would always be different somehow but they were both in a charity store in my dream. At one point in dream I'm pretty sure I played the role of Opelia like as if my dream was the movie and saw the world collapsing event, some guy who got hopped up on experimental stuff fell into a nuclear water bath thing, I blame the Post about the nuclear swimming pool I saw yesterday, and because he was radioactive it made all the machines go crazy and unsafe everything going into the red and Opelia was watching this from her room area and kept muttering "release the pressure release the pressure" in this really stressed way knowing what was happening was bad cause the pressure build up was getting dangerous, and they did. But then the entirely facility exploded regardless and it only left the experiments and there was like two other girls, one was somewhat antisocial would be around us for a bit but once it hit her going into her shelter she'd become very aggressive telling the other girl to leave before she killed her ripping her apart very clearly snarling in a not human way, and the other was younger I think more needy socially and tried suggesting maybe instead of us all sheltering separately we could form a cuddle pile as it was getting colder implying a nuclear winter and like valid point why we following Opelia this girl seems interesting. Of course she left after being threatened and despite the fact I/Opelia wasn't directly threatened she left too moving inhumanly as it was first person along a wooden fencing like a cat animal person to my shelter where I tried to curl up barely covered by a jacket. Unfortunately dream said that's all the Opelia plot u getting and changed but was really interesting/weird.
So apparently the name Ophelia the closed version of Opelia I could find means aid or benefit and was the name of a hamlet character so Journey of Aid/Journey of Benefit? Maybe the other girls had names that were also weird pronunciation and spellings of other characters from Shakespeare.
I get the feeling this movie would be one of those soul crushing ones tbh, cause I don't know how the dreary landscape I saw when I was Opelia could ever become the cover art, I think the dvd cover art is a trap to lure people in personally and that's why the dub has so much changed as it was too sad so they gave it a happy ending lmao.
#My dream#Fake Ghibli move#Ghibli in my dreams lmao projecting movies to me#What even is an Opelia#Why is Opelia#Studio Ghibli Journey of Opelia#Turns out this is an actual movie my brain just hella ripped off#If anyone from Ghibli wants to steal this ur welcome too lmao
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