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runwayrunway · 9 months

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No. 55 - Finnair [+ Centenary Livery]

So I know I'm in the process of writing a bunch of longer posts and thus haven't posted in absolutely forever, but I had to let something cut the line very quickly because in this case it was somewhat time-sensitive. I've missed the actual date by two months, but if I get in a post while it's still 2023 (...in my timezone, at least, so sorry to actual Finns busy enjoying 2024) I think that counts, and this entire blog is about what I think, so that means it counts.

On 1 November 2023 Finnair became the sixth airline to turn 100 years old, consistent with its status as the sixth oldest airline in continuous operation. I wish I'd started this blog earlier in the year, or prioritized differently, because Aeroflot and Czech Airlines also turned 100 in 2023, but...well, I didn't. You'll probably see them both in 2024 instead. Finnair, however, was requested by @kuivamustekala - particularly their centenary liveries. Requested a long time ago, even. So I'm going to hope that late is better than never and throw Finnair one last birthday party to wrap up 2023 by looking at where they started, where they are now, and what they've been doing to celebrate.

1923: PROTO-FINNAIR

Finnair, obviously the flag carrier of Finland, was founded in 1923, but its first service was in early 2024, using a Junkers J.13 (fitted with obligatory floats, as there were no suitable airstrips in Finland at the time).

image: Joseph Eaton via US Navy National Museum of Naval Aviation This is actually the US license-built version, the Junkers-Larsen JL-6, but I couldn't find any pictures of actual J.13s on floats.

Unfortunately, Finnair was founded under the name 'Aero', which is probably the actual single worst name for an airline I have ever heard. We can jest and joke about things like Jet2 and Fly Air, but I sincerely do not think I have ever seen anything with worse SEO than an airline named 'Aero'. Even for 1923 this was fairly dire - back then, as for much of history, airlines were generally named for the area they served. Aero may have been a private company, rather than state-owned, but that didn't mean they couldn't name themselves for the area they served - private airlines have always done this and still do. Incredibly enough, there was a second 'Aero' founded in Poland in 1925, but that was quickly merged into what would become LOT Polish Airlines, shedding the name like a chrysalis.

Bafflingly, even when the Finnish government bought the airline in 1946 (they still own a majority share of it today) they didn't bother to change the name. They did begin writing 'Finnish Airlines[1]' on the fuselages, but as far as I can tell this appears to have been more of a stylistic flourish of sorts than an actual rebrand, or maybe even a clarifying subtitle on the very nonspecific name. In 1953 they began marketing under the much catchier 'Finnair', but the company remained legally named 'Aero' until literally 1968 and the fuselages still read 'Finnish Airlines'.

image: Finnair An Aero/Finnish Airlines Convair 340, photographed in 1953 in a livery which included both the large 'Finnish Airlines' wordmark and 'Aero' on the tail.

Early Finnair, like most early airlines, didn't have a particularly standardized livery for its fleet, and even where it did it's not very well documented. Finnair unfortunately has some of the poorest documentation for livery evolution of any large airline I've discussed so far, which really surprised me. That said, it's when the name became Finnair that things begin to be easier to find, and so that's where I'll begin.

1968: CLASSIC FINNAIR

This original logo[2], introduced in 1968, was designed by Kyösti Varis - at least, that's what every logo database I looked in said. I actually couldn't find either Finnair or Varis confirming this[3], but I still think it's probably true. Unlike designers like Vic Warren and Lindon Leader, who wrote and gave interviews about their designs for major airlines, Varis appears to have other preoccupations. He is enormously successful and prolific, to the point where his website doesn't even mention Finnair. According to the timeline he provides he would have either been creating this logo freelance or in his very last days at Advertising Agency SEK (probably the latter, since they did the two subsequent iterations), and based on his history as a typographer I think it's safe to say the letterforms are his creation as well. Also according to his timeline, he is younger than Finnair! And we almost have the same birthday.

I like the original Finnair branding. It's not ostentatious, but it's nice and sleek, with that forward slant I love in airline branding and a long unbroken line (both in the 'F' logo and in the even heights of the letters in the wordmark). It looks aerodynamic and the rounded, blocky letters have a hint of that 60s futurism while not being gimmicky. It's kind of incredible looking at it next to the '91-'94 FedEx wordmark, which occupies the opposite end of the sliding quality scale of TRON-looking text. The design as a whole is simple enough to easily reproduce but distinct enough to easily recognize. The shade of blue chosen is a fair bit lighter than the blue of the Finnish flag, but visually pleasing enough. They basically keep iterating on this general concept for the rest of their history, which I think is fantastic - no need to get rid of something that's working for you. It's nice to see an airline not feel pressured to reinvent its logo and livery every 20 years. That's about it for the logo[4] - what about the livery?

As mentioned prior, Finnair's liveries, before quite recently, were very poorly documented. Variants definitely existed between different types and different periods in the company's history, but the broad strokes of the branding seem to have remained almost startlingly intact for around thirty years.

image: Letterform Archive The cover of a style guide from 1985. If it's changed from the 1968 original, I can't tell how.

But I'm really here to talk about one thing: the liveries.

The above image was from Finnair's own archive and was taken in 1968[5], making it contemporary with the introduction of the Kyösti Varis branding, as well as lining it up with the 1969 addition of DC-8s, like the pictured airframe.

For the majority of Finnair's history, their livery is always going to look something a little bit like this. Primarily white, with a thick blue cheatline (in what I call the domino-mask style, where it's vertically centered around the cockpit windows) that lightly flips up at the very end and a blue cross on the tail to represent the Finnish flag.

Finnair says this image is from 1960. If so, the livery was already well on its way to existing prior to 1968, with my guess being that it was introduced in 1960, along with the first jets in Finnair's fleet - the pictured Sud Aviation Caravelle, which pioneered the swept-wing, aft-engine format later seen on immensely popular jets like the DC-9 and Tu-134 - the latter of which was commissioned specifically because Nikita Khrushchev was so impressed with the Caravelle's aft engines and the quiet cabin experience they provided. It's a plane with a lot of unique visual features, featuring a nose that looks almost slanted downwards (a copy of the de Havilland Comet nose), a cruciform tail (instead of the more efficient T-tail used for future rear-engined designs), and triangular passenger windows. Most crucially, though, it was more or less the first short-range jet on the market. This made it perfect for an airline like Finnair, which at this point didn't really go that far from actual Finland.

This 1960 photograph provides a very strong blueprint for what was to come. It's the first iteration of the livery to say 'Finnair' instead of 'Finnish Airlines', and it's introduced a modern-for-1960 single-rule cheatline, although this early version was flipped horizontally, curling up at the front to frame the cockpit windows instead. (I think the white paint also cuts off behind it, leaving the space in-between the cheatline and painted nose blank metal, but in black-and-white it's somewhat hard to tell.) I do think I prefer the modern version. The use of the white downward curve with no blue hemming it in creates a really nice effect where it blends with the unpainted metal underside, due to the metal being right where you would expect to see a shadow anyway. (This effect is why I'm not quite sure where the paint ends on the Caravelle, and am just guessing based on which parts are noticeably reflective.) I definitely prefer the change made to the tail, where the single line of trim at the end of the rudder was replaced with a white canvas for the Finnish flag.

While I do tend to have a slightly pessimistic outlook on primarily-white liveries, I will say that if you're going to have a primarily white plane, and you are the flag carrier of Finland, this is a fairly understated and stylish way of incorporating it. While I probably would have done it on the main body, over where the first set of doors is, instead of on the tail, I think this is far from the end of the world. What they have is a nice, elegant taper where the tip seems to point directly at the tailplane, and it looks neat and intentional. A lot of airlines tend to just awkwardly slap a logo on their tail, which often looks really sloppy due to poor alignment or even just out-of-place entirely, and Finnair avoids that while keeping the tail from being completely blank. Having an element on the tail that's more horizontal than vertical, like the old 'AERO' rectangle or the tail rectangle on the one decent livery Lufthansa ever had.

If you look in the background, you can see that wow has the Olympic Air livery looked like that for a long time! But that's a story for soon.

Additionally, some details were added on the nose. You can see on this DC-8, photographed in 1969, that the nose features an e-girl cheek stamp of the Kyösti Varis logo. Next to it is the name of the aircraft - in this case, Jean Sibelius - in really difficult-to-read thin text. (Finnair unfortunately appears to have stopped naming their planes by the late 1970s, but at one point they would frequently be named for Finnish people and places.) The 'domino mask' goes quite a bit beyond the cockpit windows to create a wider line from the side. I wish that the logo could have been integrated some other way, because the extra little blue thing just looks cluttered, but I can't imagine how they would do it without just replacing the cheatline. I mean, that would have been an option - indeed, it's what I would have done[6] - but assuming that they keep this general look I think the logo just can't fit in on the livery. The engine nacelles, maybe? Though that would still present issues on the Caravelle, where the engines are directly over the cheatlines. I also wish they would have made it a bit easier read the name, because I like to know what the plane's name is - thankfully, some later paint jobs actually do this before, tragically, Finnair stops writing names on their planes at all.

I believe this to be the strongest iteration of the classic Finnair livery, and it was pretty obviously optimized for the DC-8. Modern airlines tend to not bother adjusting their liveries between types, creating some absolute travesties of proportion, but Finnair boldly went in the opposite direction by modifying it for each airframe and yet still having it look worse.

The sharpest deviation arises in the CV-440 version of the livery. This image is from 1971, just two years after the DC-8 liveries would have carried their first passengers, and it's wildly different. The cheatline is lowered sharply, sitting below the cockpit windows and wrapping around to contour the body of the airplane. There's a certain je ne sais quois to the domino mask that I find myself missing here. This design also has an unnecessary second 'Finnair' added to the tail, which kind of looks awkward stacked on top of the existing cheatline besides being redundant, and the Finnish flag on the tail is somewhat awkwardly made free-floating. It feels a lot less sleek and a lot more arbitrary.

On the other side of the plane the cheatline goes down quite a bit farther than on the jet models, probably because they thought it would be a better way of negotiating the Convair's rather bulbous nose, and I actually think I prefer the wide, upturned variant. This version, if anything, is too close for my taste to the livery VARIG operated in a similar timeframe. There are a lot of differences, yes, but in the 70s having one big solid cheatline on a white body and metal underbelly was the equivalent of the Lufthansa Line, so if you toed said line, be it cheat or Lufthansa, you risked becoming easily mistakeable for any airline with too similar of a color scheme. And blue-on-white was maybe the most common color-scheme at the time.

I doubt Finnair shared many tarmacs with VARIG, but here they are with Pan Am, and they could also expect to run into airlines like Sabena, Icelandair, and probably a half-dozen I've never heard of, all competing to be the one the others get mistaken for. It's a tricky position to be in.

I do quite like the livery on the left, maybe even more than the DC-8 one, but I can't seem to find any other airframes painted like this. I'm not sure why this one is.

These images are from 1971 and 1969. They are both the same model of airplane - the Super Caravelle or Caravelle 10B. Their liveries are completely different. And that's just how it was back then - not even standard within the same airline, somehow still trying to stay distinct from dozens of other non-standardized blue-on-white cheatlines.

When evaluating classic Finnair, I have to keep myself tempered in both directions. When I think it's clean and well-proportioned I have to remind myself that it's just a complete nothingburger. When I think it's a lazy and cowardly non-design I have to remind myself that, no, at its best classic Finnair does look like it was designed with some thought, and it does have some traits that feel at the very least interesting enough to merit not being totally dismissed.

But...look, I have to give classic Finnair a D+. Because they tried, and they did something, sure, but it's ultimately not something especially memorable and the implementation is just spotty.

Even given a canvas like the DC-10, they fumbled. The DC-10, in my opinion, was a big test for them. And I do mean big. In the DC-10 is a plane with all the space in the world to add visual elements, and a space where just a couple lines can go from a detail to a fin that towers over anything that isn't a 747, showing off the Finnish flag as if someone had flown it from a building mast. The third engine, which I feel like a lot of airlines really struggle with on the DC-10, gets a nice horizontal line of writing that's not intrusive but helps prevent it from feeling like a giant gap. The wordmark gets larger, is moved forward, gets to really own the space it takes up instead of being squeezed in. And...they made the cheatline just....a really thin flat line that looks bad and stiff and boring. There's nothing setting them apart from Icelandair, and Icelandair's livery from this point in time was so boring that my only comment on it was that it looked like they forgot to paint the rest of the plane. You can do white planes well, but Finnair just really doesn't get there.

...hey, Finnair? You can't just decide to do belly stripes but worse, Finnair, you're literally next door to like two thirds of SAS and that livery was designed from the ground up. They have a couple of near-misses with SAS's toes but this is the one that makes me actually go 'is this allowed?'. It seems to have been exclusive to their late-80s MD-80 fleet, but it's just incredible to me that it ever happened. (That said, those three shades of blue are so nice together and I wish they had ever brought them back. I understand the appeal of sticking to the stark contrasted blue-on-white of the flag, but there's so much potential out there!)

1997: NEW TYPE, NEW LIVERY

I really like the 757. It deserves a better livery than this.

Removing the cheatlines was a very trendy choice to make. This is the sad beast I call the Deltalite - a Deltalike but without the painted nacelles and belly that are usually slight redeeming factors. There's such a beautiful design on the tail that could have been put on the whole fuselage, honestly, and that's sad, but even on the most granular of levels...why keep the little cheek stamp if you have the logo visible on the tail now? Weird choice. Being so desperate to do the Deltalite thing everyone else is doing that you get rid of your country's flag on the tail is just a bad choice of priority, I think. There's not much to say about this. Honestly, I'd drop it to a D-. There's enough happening that it would lose something by being painted into Star Alliance colors, but it wouldn't lose terribly much.

2000: NEW FINNAIR

Oh, Finnair. Why? Did no airline resist the siren song of getting way too into airbrushing in the early 2000s?

Maybe I just have whatever the opposite of nostalgia is for the early 2000s, but this just makes me sad. They've made the wordmark look worse, overcomplicated the simplicity of the logo, and gone ham with the gaussian blur.

Look, it's not all that bad. The shades used on the actual plane are noticeably darker, and the colors at least don't look half bad now. And they've even bothered to paint the engines this time around! But...come on. You've changed 30 years of something that was working just fine for...this? Something which maybe climbs up to a flat D?

The 2000 brand overhaul, including the logo, was done by Finnish agency SEK & Grey. They're nearly as old as Finnair and have worked for brands as prominent as Coca-Cola and Kellogg's, but their about page puts Finnair front and center. They have an entire page describing their Finnair work.

Despite claiming to have included humanity and warmth and movement, I see none of this. I'll admit upfront I generally dislike what's dubbed 'Nordic' design. It's not the minimalism which I dislike but the banality.

What does any of this have to do with Finnair? What here represents the history of one of the world's oldest airlines? What here really speaks to the Finnish people? Why is just designing something generic and making sure it's all crisp (when you're photographing it fresh out of the plastic, before it's been tripped over and stepped on and yanked down staircases and accidentally sat on and stained with tea) considered a substitute for designing something that people will see years down the line and get nostalgic for? I'm nostalgic as hell for Alitalia, an airline that doesn't exist anymore. I still use the bag from an amenity kit I got on Alitalia nearly ten years ago to store small essential things like toothbrushes and medication while traveling, but I wouldn't know it was Alitalia by looking at it, because it's lovely and convenient and ergonomic but it's literally just grey. It evokes nothing, and it doesn't even say 'Alitalia' on it anywhere. Nothing here could ever be considered ephemera or memorabilia. I could steal Finnair's look at the Gap.

2010: SORRY, HERE'S NEW FINNAIR FOR REAL THIS TIME

SEK & Grey gave it another shot. This one's a lot better.

I like the change in the logo, first off. And this, the word 'Finnair', is the logo, but I'm comparing it to the earlier wordmark. 2000's attempt felt like it was taking the original and just trying to sand off the corners to make it more modern, but the 2010 take on it actually shapes each glyph into a neat little space-age thing that creates this curved shape by way of a lot of straight lines, in a way that feels visually pleasing and interesting. I enjoy the square holes in the A and R, the return of the crossbar on the N, and the extreme range of widths which gives the letters a real weight to them. This isn't a typeface - these glyphs exist in the context of the word FINNAIR in this exact configuration and one of four colorways. Finnair does have a proprietary typeface, Finnair Sans, and it looks nothing like this because this is not a font, it's a logo.

I think it is a shame that this is the logo now. I really liked the F. And they haven't gotten rid of it, but it's now been relegated to an official subordinate position, according to their branding guide:

The official Finnair logo is the text version of the logo, and it is primarily used. The F emblem is used as an additional symbol.

Look, I'll always think it's a shame when your main logo is just the name of your company. Some airlines do it, and it feels like an empty space to me. It can be satisfactory but not outstanding. When you start out with a nice little symbol and then take it away, though, I do feel somewhat robbed.

It stings extra because I really like the way the new F looks. It has that long brushstrokey look and it almost makes me think of Hebrew characters. The way it tapers now really adds to the feeling of movement I get from it, and it's a great base for a livery. Now that it's darker, even though this does bring Finnair into competition with airlines like SAS, LOT, TAROM, Lufthansa, and even Ryanair when it comes to dark-blue-on-white, it also contrasts better with the main body, and it's still light enough that you can recognize it as blue. Anyway, it doesn't take a genius to know how to integrate this into a livery. Long line for the fuselage, go up to match the tail...

Finnair. Are you serious, Finnair?

Look! I get it! Billboards are in now, it's fine, I get it. it's probably the nicest billboard I've seen in a while, font-wise. It feels comfortable on the fuselage and it feels like it earns the space it occupies. The F is nicely centered on the tail, cuts off at a pleasant point. But...why?

I really can't be too mean about this. I want to be meaner than I actually can justify, because I think if any other airline made their plane this featureless I would hate it but Finnair's billboard livery is actually nice enough and everything is placed well enough that it's not at all unpleasant to look at. It's an acceptable livery. If maybe 25% less planes were basically all white it would shoot up in my esteem. I don't really like the fact that they put the little Fs on the inside of the wingtips of their A350s, but that's really my only nitpick. It's just sort of...bringing a really fantastic loaf of bread to a potluck when you were asked to bring baked desserts. You've done a very good job, but you didn't quite get the assignment.

It's a bit hard to critique the modern Finnair livery in detail because I think it's executed fine. There's nothing really wrong with it except that it has a logo that could lend itself to all sorts of interesting shapes, it has 30 years of variants of a very specific design to draw on, and it's chosen to go tabula rasa just to be all clean and minimal instead of doing any of the interesting things it could have with this new start.

I want to dislike this take on the Finnair livery, but at the end of the day I just don't. I think it's completely satisfactory. A lot of airlines try to get this look and somehow end up seeming cluttered for it. Finnair is one of the only instances I can think of where a white fuselage with just a wordmark has looked okay. It isn't ugly. It hasn't failed at the thing it's trying to do, but I think that it should have tried to do something else.

At the same time, though, this is the most Finnair that Finnair has ever been. The blue cheatline and the Deltalites were stumbling over well-trod ground. The modern livery, at least, isn't sloppily tail-heavy and seemingly thoughtless.

I give modern Finnair a C. This took an excessive amount of deliberation, but it really is...good enough. It's satisfactory. It's fine! I would have taken a completely different direction, but they have done a good job with their sort of lackluster idea. It's alright. We'll check on them again in another hundred years and see where they're at.

2023: CENTENAIRY

A century is a very long time. Finnair is older than my oldest grandparent. Finnair is older than over a dozen sovereign countries. Finnair is older than aerodromes in Finland. It's older than every currently operating airline except KLM, Avianca, Qantas, Aeroflot, and Czech Airlines. As of the first of November, Finnair is in triple digits.

I adore this centenary stamp Finnair has put out, celebrating the long relationship between aviation and the mail. It's not complex, but it's not barren, either. It combines the dark blue of the modern livery with the light blue of the classic one, all with the white silhouettes of airplanes elegantly soaring over an outline of Finland. The outstretched white wings on the deep blue have the grace of a giant fish swimming beneath a glass-bottomed boat.

But of course it isn't just stamps. Finnair is an airline. Airlines do special liveries. Qantas and KLM both slapped a big 100 sticker on an airplane for their big anniversaries. Finnair has of course done something similar.

Three airframes - the pictured A350-900, OH-LWR, and two A320s - OH-LXK and OH-LXM - have had a 'bringing us together since 1923' sticker applied. Matching the rest of Finnair's branding, it's certainly quite minimal, but it's a nice gesture. It's not what people have been talking about. That's OH-LWO and OH-LWP, both A350-900s, who have been given something more substantial to wear.

youtube

I'm going to assume that after its renaissance on tumblr a few years back most people reading this are familiar with the Moomin franchise. I definitely am, because when I was in my larval stage my mother first taught me to read Russian using an omnibus book of Moomin stories. Creator Tove Jansson apparently designed both the shape of the eponymous white critters and the sound of the name Mumintrollen itself are designed to evoke a feeling of softness, and it's clear why these characters are so beloved.

It isn't the first time Finnair, which frequently collaborates with Finnish brands and highlights its Finnish roots, has featured Moomins.

image on left: Antti Havukainen

In the 1990s, the airline first flew a Moomin jet. They had another in the 2000s. Both were withdrawn from service before 2010. It's been a while now since Finnair flew their last MD-11, but when celebrating their 100th birthday, a milestone that the vast majority of airlines will never see, they chose to do it by way of a soft Moomin embrace.

image: Changi Airport

And, I'll be honest, I think it's very sweet. It got an actual, sincere little smile out of me.

100 years is a really long time. In 1923 aviation was unrecognizable. What we would now consider an airliner didn't really exist yet - space for ten passengers, closed cockpits, and metal fuselages were the exceptions rather than the rule, and the Ford Trimotor was two years from its first flight. Cabin crew were barely even a concept. Airplanes, for all intents and purposes, were considered a type of boat. A nonstop flight across the Atlantic was a ridiculous concept. In a report published by the US National Bureau of Standards, it was said: 'there does not appear to be, at present, any prospect whatever that jet propulsion of the sort here considered will ever be of practical value, even for military purposes'. There were no aerodromes in Finland, so a small company called Aero attached floats to a plane just large enough for four passengers and took them from Helsinki to Tallinn.

Look how far we've come.

Footnotes:

[1]: The Finnair website's history page, which I used as a source for much of the background and several images in this post, renders it as 'Finnish Air Lines', but on the airplanes themselves it clearly has no space, so I've corrected that seeming error for them. I don't know why this discrepancy exists, because as far as I know during this period they were marketing themselves as Aero so this text would only have existed on the livery itself. [2]: Actually, I very occasionally see this version where the F logo isn't fully surrounded by the circle and the F in the wordmark doesn't have the rounded top, and I don't know which came first or if the less round version is just somehow...not real? I did try to figure this out, I swear, but at some point I realized I am literally not a professional logo historian, and nobody is going to be let down if I don't brute-force an answer despite not even speaking Finnish, and I should finish writing the post before it's 2024. [3] The closest thing to an official source I can find is the descriptions of two listings for the centenary stamp including a quote from designer Ilkka Kärkkäinen attributing it to him. I don't at all doubt that he did design it, but I always like to find concrete attribution for things if I can and would hate to spread misinformation and the sparseness of confirmation here is something I find very strange. My best guess is that there's plenty of good sources on it in Finnish but nobody has bothered to make it as clear in English. [4] Admittedly this is a stretch, and I certainly don't think it was intentional, but it does remind me of the longship prow used in early SAS liveries. This motif was introduced in 1946 and continued to see use after the Finnair logo was introduced. The overlap is fairly limited in that SAS never used the longship in their logo (...I kind of want to talk about their logos one of these days) and the Finnair livery you'll see shortly doesn't look like SAS's at all, plus SAS has the extra pink on their liveries, but I couldn't get it out of my head that they do look sort of alike. [5] The absolute hero who uploaded it to jetphotos mentioned that Finnair had given him the photograph while planning to dispose of it, and this makes me wonder if the lack of documentation is just because Finnair doesn't hold onto their old materials, which makes me very sad. A lot of companies, more broadly, didn't bother to keep records until somewhat recently, but in Finnair's case it seems to be particularly egregious. As someone literally studying to be an archivist it makes me exceptionally sad to see history lost just because nobody cared enough to preserve it. [6] Maybe they didn't want to look like backwards SAS. Who can say?

#tarmac fashion week #finnair #grade: c #grade: d+#region: finland #grade: d #grade: d-#region: northern europe #era: 1960s #era: 1970s #era: 1980s #era: 1990s #era: 2000s #era: 2010s #era: 2020s #special liveries #commemorative liveries #requests

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taintedcigs · 7 months

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labyrinth sounds super sweet 🥹 do you per chance have a snippet you might be willing to share with a poor commoner such as myself? 🙏🏼

oh you sweet lil angel OF COUUUURSE!! i actually was gonna make that a little mini-series buuuut i have decided to make it a oneshot (probably a very long one, wooops), i still don't know what direction it will take but it has a stupid meetcute ? i keep gushing abt <33

it's basically steve being fully pessimistic abt love, after many failed dates robin tried to set him up on. and JUST when he thinks he lost all hope, you swarm into family video, making a little offer steve can't refuse <3

its still a very VERY rough draft but snippet under the cut that might be a teeny tiny long <3

Robin, leaning against the counter with an air of annoyance, “Already turning into a miserable old man I see?” She quipped, a playful glint sparkling in her bold icy gaze.

With a roll of his eyes, Steve chose to ignore her jests, fingertips grazing against the tape in his hand before he pushed it next to the others. “Anyway, I’m just saying I don’t want to do this whole love bullshit anymore, so, I can and will shut myself off,” he grumbled.

Miserable old man. Robin thought to herself. “Whatever you say,” she mumbled, conceding to his stubbornness.

“But,” She leaned further onto the counter with a sheepish smile, “you never know when true love is gonna find you!” Her attempt to inject a bit of optimism into Steve's newly cynical outlook fell deaf on his ears.

A bitter huff escaped from those otherwise sweet lips. “If it comes looking for me I’ll be here fixing the damn horror section, thanks to those idiotic kids!”

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disapproval before she went back down to counting the stocks, scribbling down some nonsense to avoid Steve.

“I swear if I ever see those little fuckers again—” Steve’s little rambling to himself was interrupted by you. Like a sudden burst of sunlight piercing through his gloomy clouds.

“Hi! Sorry for bothering but—” Such a soothing voice usually would've made him melt. But, with such bitterness filling his body, it only made Steve snap.

“What?” He asked, rather rudely, body jerking back with the annoyance of dealing with another customer. That was until he faced you, regret filling his skin faster than the caffeine still swimming in his veins.

“Oh—uh, sorry, didn’t mean to—” You muttered, startled by his semi-rudeness, yet once he saw you his demeanor, that stupid ice wall melted quicker than he built it up.

“No, shit, I’m sorry, I mean not shit— fuck, ah.” He rambled, embarrassed, a salmon pink color rushing to his cheeks, almost knocking over the trolley he was standing next to.

Thankfully, you let out a sweet giggle, saccharine, charming. “Don’t worry, I totally get that, the whole anger and cussing thing.”

“No, no, I swear I’m not like an angry person—” He tried to reassure, and you were quick to give him another smile, one he felt he didn't deserve.

“I get it. Customers aren’t always right, you know?” You gave him an understanding shrug, almost comforting him, and Steve felt that giddiness again, the one he thought he had fully lost.

He really was pathetic.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“I just started working in that coffee shop down the street, and shit, indeed. These people can be mean,” you further related, and Steve couldn't help but get a better look at you—chocolate gaze getting caught onto the crescent moon necklace clasped around your neck, Levi’s jeans hugging your curves in the best way, and a graphic tee to pair it with. Effortlessly stunning.

Still out of breath, and attempting to seem collected, Steve managed to ask, “Merrill's?”

The worst coffee in town. The only coffee shop in Hawkins. Toilet water quality type of coffee, and always the stalest pastries. But, shit, if you were there, Steve was more than willing to chug a gallon of their coffee.

#em’s mail💌#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #wips

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polutrope · 1 year

Note

"green things even among the pits and rocks"+maglor? (you already know all my potential ship preferences if ships were to come in :D)

Thank you for the prompt! From this list.

Probably not a relationship you were expecting, but I have a Caranthir and Maglor agenda (re-ignited by this character ask), so here we are. Post-War of Wrath in the ruins of Rerir and Helevorn, 775 words.

* * *

Strange, that one of the few tracts of land not to sink into the sea is a place that Maglor knew so well.

Not so well, any more; that is true, for it has greatly changed. The soaring white peak of Rerir has been brought low. Its slopes, once thick with blue-green pines, are mostly shorn down to bare rock. In its collapse, the mountain has filled the deep basin of Helevorn so that no more than scattered pools of the lake’s dark waters remain.

But the land is not so changed that Maglor cannot remember.

* * *

Dawn is heralded not by the Sun, whose warm light will remain hidden behind the mountains for some time yet, but by the chorus of birds outside. Maglor and his brother have kept each other awake through the night, meandering pleasantly between story and jest and debate. Now Caranthir has a mind to ascend to the summit of Mount Rerir. Today. And when Caranthir has a mind to undertake some bold, and possibly ill-advised, adventure it is little use trying to stop him. Besides, Maglor is eager to gaze east over the vastness of Endor.

“It is liberating, Macalaurë, to feel so small, looking out over that endless expanse of wilderness,” said Caranthir, topping off Maglor’s goblet with the last of the second bottle of wine. “You must see it.”

It is rare enough that Caranthir will suffer the company of another, let alone extend an invitation. So Maglor will go with him.

“But first,” Caranthir says, rising purposefully from the chair he has occupied for the last several hours, “I must swim.”

“Swim?” Maglor says. “Isn’t it cold?”

Offering no more than a grunt and a wave of his hand in answer, Caranthir is on the way out. It takes more effort for Maglor to pull himself away from the comfort of Caranthir’s plush furniture and well-appointed chamber. When he catches up to his brother, Caranthir is already standing on a rock beside the black water, stripped naked. He looks over his shoulder at Maglor and dives, as if he had been waiting for him to witness the bold leap into the lake. Caranthir’s skin is pink with the cold when he surfaces, but he is grinning. Steam swirls around his body from the heat of his own breath in the frigid air.

“Won’t you join me?” he shouts at Maglor.

Maglor scoffs and scuffs the stone beneath his feet. He is about to cross his arms over his chest and say, “I think not,” but then he catches his brother’s eyes, wild and careless, and he laughs. Before he has the chance to think better of it, Maglor has made a heap of his own clothing on the damp ground and is bounding towards the edge of the rock. The cold is knife-sharp and squeezes the breath from his lungs. It bursts out as a yelp, and Caranthir laughs that rough and raucous laugh that Maglor has always delighted in coaxing from his morose little brother.

Then Caranthir takes off, arms whirling, cutting a path over the glassy water. Maglor goes after him. The cold slips between the tight knots in his muscles and loosens them. In the wake that trails behind his fluttering feet are the cares of too many anxious nights. All the warmth of his body gathers around his heart.

He gives up the chase, rolling onto his back to float on the surface, limbs splayed in surrender to the sky. The rising Sun purples the ridge of the Ered Luin.

* * *

The bond between Maglor and Caranthir was not well understood by others. Even Maedhros, when Maglor enthused about his visits east, would furrow his brows and shake his head; perplexed, if not a little envious.

It was the poetry in the way Caranthir experienced everything—as quick to anger as he was to laughter. As skilled at finding fault that others missed as he was at finding beauty that no one else could see. And it was Maglor who could best translate that acute, often wearying, experiencing of the world into something that made sense.

Maglor surveys the wreckage of the land his brother had loved. A beam of sunlight thrusts itself through the clouds and catches on a pool of water in the distance. The reflection glitters between heaps of jagged rock and churned soil tangled with roots. Maglor looks down at his feet. Where a trickle of water has found its way between the rocks, hardy leaves, holding the promise of a flower, have sprouted. Green is filling in the veins of the land once more.

* * *

The idea of Caranthir enjoying icy swims in Lake Helevorn is inspired by Dawn Felagund's Caranthir, who also does this.

#maglor #caranthir #silm phrase prompts #prompts #my fic #silm fic #unintentionally a sort-of companion piece to my Maedhros & Maglor prompt fill #yes the Maedhros mention was 70% for you Lark <3

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selfproclaimedunicorn · 7 months

Text

Secrets In The Dark

Sooooo, I wrote another drabble set in Aldreda’s backstory. It's not not a sequel to the last one, but there's probably a couple months between them. Also it's from her shitty cousin's POV, so content warning for being in the brain of the guy actively deciding he wants to groom a 13-year-old. Fully understand that not being something everyone will want to read, I just needed to expunge my soul of the idea I had. Anyway, felt slimy after completing this & again while editing so I'm gonna plan nice things now

Aldreda Tag | AO3 Series | Other Flashback Drabble

Stars blinked above in the great expanse of black as water gently sloshed against the sides of the longship, making it rock and softly creak as it sat still in the waters of The Sunset Sea. Westley groaned as he sat up. His arm was numb from having laid his head on it for so long, and The Sharp’s eighth son had rolled over enough to be on the edge of the blankets he’d wrapped around himself to keep out the cold and the wet and offer some cushion between himself and the hard planks of the ship. If it weren’t for the cold glint of a blade in the dark, and the shadow of Beorn Merlyn’s form huddled near the port side of the hull, he would have pushed the ship boy further away from him. He didn’t want to risk shoving him into one of the other men and waking up more people before he could talk to him.

Westley stretched, working limberness back into his shoulders and arms before pushing himself up and stepping over the sleeping man at arms that lay between him and the huddled form near the hull. Beorn's posture stiffened, and he watched Westley with hard, dark blue eyes. He didn’t move, the knife in his hand pausing in its work against whatever silly little trinket he’d been whittling to pass the time. A good bit of shavings crunched under Westley’s boot when he stepped in front of Beorn; he’d been at this a while it would seem. He crouched down before his man, arms rested on his knees and a manic grin on his face.

“Hope you’re not planning a mutiny with that.” He tried to keep his tone light as he inclined his head towards the knife, hoping his words would be taken as a jest. Beorn had been a good friend to him, loyal and true and willing to listen to his orders in spite of being a few years older than him. Westley had been just as true to Orwen, and he’d loved his older cousin like a brother…but that did not mean his loyalties to his cunt uncle’s now-dead son outweighed those to his own father, The True Farwynd. Such caveats to loyalty existed in everyone, even the fourth son of The Merlyn sent off to serve ‘one of those crazy Farwynds out in their lighthouse.’

“Not planning anything…unless you do something.” Beorn’s gaze faltered, unable to hold Westley’s unblinking eye contact, and he mumbled the second part.

“Do something?” his grin relaxed, and true humor played at the edges of his voice this time, “Where’s that coming from?”

Beorn’s eyes darted towards the sleeping figure curled up between him and the hull, and he followed the other man's gaze. Aldreda. Westley looked back from his cousin, fair and vulnerable, to his man. He said nothing, his smile fading to blank neutrality.

Beorn shifted under his near-black gaze, anxiety dripping from him like water off the oars. His hushed whispers came out as a desperate plea, “I know we've never cared, but she is too much risk, Westley!”

He didn't say anything, continuing to just stare at Beorn. The other man swallowed, and he rubbed his thumb over one of the rough edges of the half-formed carving in his hand. “I know The Farwynd said to do what you wish, but that was more for her than you. It had to have been, and you know that.”

“Beorn.” Westley’s low voice was cold and stern, a warning to shut his stupid blabbering mouth. He did not heed it.

“Westley, you cannot touch her. If you take her maidenhead, The Farwynd will have you stripped naked and thrown into the walrus rookery slathered in clam juice at best, and during their rut at worst. Naga's Bones, Orwen even–”

Before Beorn could continue, he grabbed his jaw, holding so tightly that he winced. Westley’s brother-in-arms didn’t need to be brought into this. A dead man had no business in his affairs, especially if his words were still being honored. The honoring was not how he meant it in life, but it was still happening.

“And your plan for if I touch Aldreda is what, exactly? To cut off the fingers I put in her and present them to The Farwynd? To take off my cock and throw it in the ocean? To betray House Farwynd and kill your captain?”

Beorn did not respond, probably because he could not. Still, Westley searched his face as he held fast to his blocky jaw, fingers pressing hard into the bone. It was uncomfortable for him as well, but there was a malicious sort of pleasure in the discomfort on his man’s face while he tried to impart his thoughts without words.

“You only care because Aldreda is special…which is why you have nothing to worry about.” An easy smile spread across Westley’s face as Beorn’s thick brows furrowed with confusion. He let go of him, and patted his cheek as the other man tried to work some amount of comfort back into his jaw.

“Aldreda is special,” he reiterated, careful to continue keeping his voice low, “which is why no one will have her. There will be a proper time, of course, but that is for me. When she is six and ten I will make sure that in these three years she has learned that she’s mine. Your only job, Beorn, is to ensure that Aldreda hears and knows nothing of anyone else. I have needs, you understand, and they are none of her business. Her only business is taking what I give her, when I give it to her; training, raiding experience, love as Orwen’s sister, and one day as my woman. Promise me you’ll do this.”

There was still that same confused sort of concern on his face when he started to respond, “Westley–”

He frowned, quietly furious, and moved his hand from Beorn’s cheek, to his neck. Westley hauled him up onto his feet by the scruff, and the knife and hunk of wood clattered to the floor of the longship as they were dropped in the process of being dragged to the hull. He bent Beorn over the edge, the other man’s face barely above the black brine.

Westley loomed over him as he spoke again, his words coming out through gritted teeth. “If you do not swear to make sure all she knows is that I waited for her–”

“Westley?!”

The rustling of waking bodies and Aldreda’s worried cry saw Westley leaning forward, dunking Beorn’s head into the sea, and grabbing his upper arm to get a better hold on him. With a grunt of put on effort, he pulled him back up and away from the hull. Beorn coughed and sputtered over the water that had gotten in his mouth and up his nose as all that salt soaking his hair and the collar of his tunic dripped down and softly pattered onto the floor of the longship.

“There you go,” he put on a show of straightening his tunic and caring for his waterlogged man, “you have to be more careful!” Beorn's eyes met Westley’s for a moment, angry and disbelieving, before ultimately a look of resignation crossed his face.

“I will…I promise.” When he spoke, the words were horse and brought about another coughing fit.

“What happened? Beorn, are you alright?”

“He tripped.” The lie fell easily from Westley’s lips as Beorn coughed into his fist, and Aldreda and Vickon and other men looked on with concern.

“I am fine,” Beorn rasped, “I got pulled out before anything too bad.”

“Vickon, get something for him to dry off.”

“Aye, Westley!” The Sharp’s son scrambled to gather something at least mostly dry for Beorn as the men all mocked or checked on him, stretching and then easing back into the spots where they’d been sleeping. After a moment, Beorn went to Vickon’s side to dry off, leaving only Aldreda and Westley by he hull

“Beorn is usually so sure-footed.”

“Everyone has their moments, and it is a good thing I was up to see his. Best to not be down a man, we will need everyone once we hit the coast. House Reyne’s land is rich with plunder.”

“So that is where we’re going?” There was a sparkle of excitement in her black eyes, and a wild grin pulled at the corners of her mouth. Naga’s Bones, Westley wanted her now; wanted to see how that grinning mouth would feel around his cock. It wasn't the right time though, he wanted her to want it as much as he did.

“It is,” Westley returned her grin and tucked some of her hair behind her ear, “I thought you deserved something big for your first raid.” Her cheek felt warm when his fingers brushed it, and something soft entered her smile.

“Get back to sleep, Aldreda. We'll talk about the plans tomorrow.”

“Right…good night, Westley.”

A smug sort of satisfaction filled Westley’s chest as Aldreda did as he bid her. It wasn't much, not yet, but the willingness was there; his work could be done in three years.

#my writing #fic: a fair and handsome seal lord #ocs #oc: aldreda farwynd #westley farwynd i am in your walls #i mean i love when a villain is truly A Villain & is evil & knowngly do shitty things #but also this man needs to be jailed #the way this man is so self aware & so fucking delusional at the same time #asoiaf oc #afahsl drabbles

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cottondo · 6 months

Text

BLACK LACE | chapter six

yours truly, but not truly yours

Fizzarolli x reader

i really hope y'all notice

the little dialogue change

the reader has

with robo fizz here (;

lmk if you see it !

____________________

You actually managed to smile a bit at Fizz as he chatted with you while you worked. You knew he couldn't stay around the park too long- - too many fans; though, you got the hint he didn't actually mind the publicity. It took a little bit of you two being in silence for Fizzarolli to get uncomfortable enough to start talking up a conversation with you- - probably because he felt bad.

Fizz sat on the bleachers, eyes following you as your sweeping job was finally finished. It was time to fix up the robo fizz animatronic for its next show.

This was prolly gonna be lil awkward. Especially if it starts talking—

The real Fizzarolli was sitting right here, as if it was all of your fantasies come true, and the only version of him you did get to have (sorta), was broken on a stage.

You take the robot out onto the stage with a toolbox set, and place a hand over the area of the robot to look it over. Exposed wires again at the neck. Damn thing.

"Holy shit! That piece of junk is supposed to be me?" Fizz leans comically forward on the bench, stretching and tilting his head to the side with a grimace.

You turn to look at Fizzarolli curiously, a brow raised slightly. "Yeah. What, you don't think he looks like you?" Your voice was teasing, and Fizzarolli only scrunched up his nose in distaste at the thought. "What the hell's wrong with its neck?"

You take a small step to the side as he meets you at the edge of the stage from the floor. It was subtle, but you noticed his eyes looking over the circus stage briefly before meeting with your face.

"He likes to glitch out allot." You shrug, "I swear he does it on purpose to piss me off, though." As you bend and lift a tool out from the box, you hear footsteps walking up the stage.

""You mean, like, it's actually sentient?" Fizz looked . . confused. Maybe a little curious?

Did he know know how own products?

You stand up straight again and scrunch your face up slightly in confusion. "Yeeah . . ? He pisses me off."

Fizz stares at it, rounding it once in a small stepped circle around the limp robot, putting a hand to his chin in thought. "I guess it's just freaky, looking at that thing so close up."

You found his curiosity a little entertaining. Your lips curl upward to a smile. "Then you really don't wanna see it turned on."

"Pun intended?" He tilts his head with a wavering smile. "Your jests are better than I thought."

With a smirk of your own, he watched you roll your eyes. That wasn't the intention, but you decided to just roll with it if he was laughing.

"Gross."

Your legs crouch down to the floor, and you hold yourself in a low squatting position to look over the exposed wires in the robot's neck. With a lopsided frown, there was a heavy sigh threatening to escape. This stupid project would take you at least two hours to do.

So much for getting done early today.

"Soo . . you do this almost every day?" Fizzarolli looks down to you. "The robot, I mean,"

You get comfortable on your knees, and bring the toolbox closer to your side. As you nod, you look up at him. "Mhm. Fun, right?"

No. It was anything but fun. Especially being tormented by a robot that you once had feelings for.

Fizz had his arms crossed, staring down at you with not much amusement. Safe to say, he thought the same as you. "I don't know, don't you get bored?"

There was that bitter feeling in your chest, again. How'd he know?

"I mean, yeah. Sometimes," your shoulder shrugs, and the way your voice was lighter made it all the more obvious how you really felt. "But it's not all bad. For a while, it was my only way of getting to talk to y—" your eyes widen, and you pause what you'd been doing. Staring at the limp robot in a small shock, you realize that the words just came out before you could even stop them from happening.

Shit shit shit.

Fizz flinched, but you didn't want to look over to see his reaction. It actually felt like you'd been frozen in fear.

You pick up the pliers and focus on the wires again instead. "I mean, like, you know, because nobody else here is cool. It's tiring dealing with parents and their kids all day." Quick recovery, you think to yourself.

"Riiight . ." Fizz looks away awkwardly, and you feel the disappointment in your stomach start to bubble.

You're always fucking up. Why can't you just shut the hell up for once?

"You know, this place actually brings back some memories!" Fizz turns away from you, and walks across the stage. "I was good as a circus performer too, even as a kid." His smile briefly faded, you noticed, but when he turned back to you, it was bright again.

"I'm surprised you aren't some form of jester." He looks you over once. You furrow a brow. "Was that supposed to be a compliment, or are you just making fun of me?" There's a tease in your voice again.

Fizz smirks. "You're actually . . not bad."

You look up at him, sharing the lighthearted smile for a brief moment. There's a fuzziness in you as that compliment starts to sink in.

The wire in your hand sparks, and you yank your hand away quickly with a flinch of pain. Fizz's eyes widen, looking down at the robot's neck. Clearly, you separated the wrong wires. You blame him for distracting you.

"What's happening?" Fizzarolli asks, taking a step closer to your side.

This was hardly new to you, but clearly Fizz thought something about this was dangerous.

You shake off the stinging in your hand, and tilt your head. "It happens all the time. Damn thing always short circuits."

"Y-Your finger!" He was oddly caring right now. Was this actually how Fizz was?

Your eyes glance down to the dozens of burn scars littering your hands. They'd eventually fade over time. It was just one of the many 'perks' of working at Loo Loo Land.

Your finger was bleeding, but you barely even noticed it. "It's fine." Brushing it off was just easier than dwelling on it.

You actually found it a little comical how freaked out he was by all of this. A smile managed to calm him down, seeing as though you were hardly phased by it.

"Just a faulty connection. I didn't solder it right." You give a little wink, and hold up the gun to the wire, fixing the two together. The sparks went away.

"I'll stick to stage work." He sighs out.

"Yeah, it's probably for the best." You giggle up at him.

Fizz walks off the stage, and looks you over briefly. "Look, I gotta get going. But, I'll see you at Ozzie's tonight." His hand sits on his hip, curious and waiting for your answer. "Or at least, I think I will, right?"

You nod, giving him a little smile back. "I'll be there."

•

Your hand grabs Fizz's dressing room doorknob, and twists it to open.

You figured he'd have your costume out and ready for you. But what you didn't expect, was for you to see him in mid make out sesh with . . Ozzie?

"O-Oh god, sorry—" Your eyes widen, and instantly, your heel spins to turn you out of the room.

"Oh! Hey!" Fizzarolli quickly gets off Ozzie's lap, a bright and nervous grin spreading from cheek to cheek, and Asmodeous sits up straight, eyes wide and shocked.

You thought he'd be at home still, since his leg was still broken. It actually . . kinda felt funny seeing Fizzarolli with someone other than, well, you.

"Hah! Uh, y/n! There you are!" Fizz was laughing, and sweating, reaching out a hand to stop you from leaving. You look down at his hand on you, and furrow a brow slightly. "Totally just having a non emotional make out with the boss. What, never seen that before?" His laugh was nervous as hell.

"Not- - not really, no." You frown at him. Asmodeous stands with a crutch, and smiled sheepishly over at you. "So! You're the new demon I've heard about."

Your eyes look up to him- - oh my goodness. He was so intimidating in person. And this was how you got to meet him for the first time!? By breaking up a bang session in the dressing room??

"Yes sir," you smile nervously up at him. "I'm really happy you guys changed your minds about my application."

"I'm sure you'll fit in around here soon. So far, I'm liking what I've been seeing." His smile grew as he headed for the door. His hand gave you a small pat on the shoulder, causing you to smile warmly to yourself. Fizz took a step to the side, allowing room for him to leave.

Your smile brightens up a bit at Ozzie, and suddenly, there was that warm fuzzy feeling again. It almost felt like somebody actually wanted you around. That was new.

"Bye, Fizz." Asmodeous winks, and closes the door behind him, leaving just the two of you in the dressing room now.

Fizzarolli lets out another sheepish chuckle before looking at you. "I'm sure you've seen crazier things,"

Was it wrong to feel jealous? Fizzarolli wasn't yours, and you didn't belong to him. You guessed you couldn't control who he spent his free time with, but it still hurt. Sigh.

"I swear, it's strictly fucking. No strings attached," Fizz raised a hand.

"Okay," you shrug, raising a brow. "Uh, so my costume?" You shake off the lingering feelings.

Fizz claps his hands together in remembrance.

"Right! Got it right here," with his back turning to face you, you take a look over his shoulder to see him pulling out the new stage fit you would be wearing. Cute, as usual.

"Soo, whaddya thiink?" He holds it up, smiling big while presenting it. You force up a smile, but it was still hard to get the idea of him being with somebody else out of your mind. "I like it," it was true, you did think it was cute, but the way it was said made him think otherwise.

"What's wrong with it?" Fizz frowns, letting his arm drop.

"Nothing, I swear." Your smile tries to prove your mind to act otherwise, but it was clear he wasn't buying it. Only thing was, you weren't upset about the dress.

Fizz narrows an eye on you, shoving the dress into your hands. "Alright, if you don't like it, deal with it anyway. It's either this, or leave."

The dress shines against any light, and the sequins are scratchy. "Fizz, I swear, I love it." You roll your eyes at him.

It was useless trying to talk about the real emotion in the room, so you decide to turn away from him and bring the dress with you to the other side of the room. Quickly removing your clothes, you slip on the new dress. It fit snuggly, and you honestly couldn't move too well in it, but it was fine.

"Don't forget you need to get the crowd to rate you a ten tonight." Fizz reminded you of the deal you two made. "Already talked it over with Asmodeous. He said it's a fair deal!"

You better be on your good shit tonight then, though those thoughts are making it really hard to concentrate on anything right now.

"I didn't forget." You walk over to him, standing beside him at the mirror. There's a variety of makeup sitting out on the vanity, so you help yourself to get show ready.

"Y'know, I kinda hope you make it." Fizz bumps your arm as you apply some powder under your eyes. Your eyes blinked as you glance at him in the mirror. "Really?"

Fizz busied himself with collecting the makeup on the counter. "It'd be fun to do some jester comedy again with someone who's circus familiar."

You smile softly over at him, and suddenly, those feelings you've had for him are starting to feel way too real. Are you being a little delusional? Or did it actually seem like he was being nice to you for a reason?

"Better make sure I win then." You bump his arm back.

#helluva fizzarolli #Fizzarolli #fizzarolli x reader #helluva boss

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blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk · 1 year

Note

Absolutely zooming to the ask box for a letter from Grelle because she has my whole heart this is such a cool idea

aaaaa thank you! here ya go, darlin'~

transcript below the cut in case any of it is hard to read!

My Dearest (Name),

O love of my life, I am so very glad to be writing you again! You would scarcely believe how I have been longing to see you.

My, but you’ve not forgotten me, have you? … I only jest, my darling! Someone such as I is not easily forgotten, especially with the knowledge that you love me so. I’d be a fool to doubt it; your love reaches me even when we are apart. Such sweet sorrow it is, to yearn for someone the way I do for you! I wouldn’t trade it for a thing, though. Pain will but give way to love, and I know it will be all the more delightful when we are finally allowed to be together once more.

What have your days been looking like, dear? Other than, hopefully, there are visions of me everywhere your eye wanders. Nothing would make me happier to hear! My life has been as dull and busy as ever… Will has not ceased to be a dreadful bore, nor will he even give me the satisfaction of playing along with my lighthearted flirting. (I promise, sweetheart, my eyes are only for you! I simply have to have some fun round the office, you know?)

On the other hand, Ronnie is as much a charmer as ever. Why, I haven’t even been able to keep track of how many dates he has gone on this month alone! TOO many, the silly boy. But, at least he seems quite happy. And his training has been coming along well. I dare say he’ll be ready to take his next assignment with nearly no help at all! Ah, I feel like a proud mother.

Do tell, am I writing too much in my letters? Sometimes I feel as if I have far too much to say and very little of it is of any true substance. Then again, I do believe you rather like me that way. At the very least… I never feel as if you’re ignoring anything I have to say. That’s something I appreciate very much. Your attention and affections make my heart soar!

Now that I have caught you up on the goings-on of my life, I do hope you’ll catch me up on yours. And, well, I should never forgive myself if I didn’t say something which would cause a terrible scandal if anyone were to see it. It bears repeating: that surely must be one of the things you like about me, mustn’t it? If I were no scandal, your feelings would probably fade. That’s all the same to me — one must keep their beloved interested!

So, then, a scandal to shock any prying eyes… my entire being aches to have you close, darling. We could be pressed as close as two people could be, and it still wouldn’t be close enough to ease my desires. The very next time we meet, I intend to kiss you so hard I’ll leave your lips bruised, and I promise you that my hands will never let you go. I crave your touch more than anything. And I shan’t pretend you haven’t confessed to feeling the same.

With that, I ought to draw this letter to its finale! Do take care not to leave these pages lying around… I should hate to think how your reputation would suffer. Instead, hold this letter close to your heart, and think of me, until we are together again.

Yours Always,

Grell Sutcliff

#Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Grell #Grell Sutcliff #love letter #romantic #fluff #drama #ROMANCE INTRIGUE DRAMA! XD #the love letter thing especially lends itself well to the setting #not that people don't write love letters in any time period but BOY was it big in the Victorian era #SO ROMANTIIIIIIC~~~#one hell of a queue

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seradyn · 1 year

Text

A Dream Come True (Chp. 11)

Finally, after 6 months

Chapter 11/35: A Daring Dance For Two

Date time with our daemon man. Get ready for long conversations and some backstory for our reader 😌

Extra long to make up for the back to back hiatuses >.<

Link to work Masterlist

Word Count: 11,052

TW: Childhood trauma

Tags: @savage-rhi @blossom-adventures @ticklemycucumber

Lmk if you’d like to be tagged in updates

———————————————————————

The library looked dark, decrepit when it was closed. There was no light coming from the overhead windows, no welcoming gust of warm air to greet you. Closing was one of your least favorite parts of the job, but it was a necessity. You tugged on the front door’s handles experimentally and, of course, the lock held without much effort. Satisfied, you dropped the keys into your bag, turning your back to the old, withered building.

You shivered into your coat, the kiss of winter’s breath turning the tip of your nose red. The temperature was only continuing to drop, much to your dismay. The frosty wind sunk deeply into your clothes, cutting through them like jelly. The pinpricks on your skin had you rushing to find warmth someplace else.

“Ah, there she is. And here I thought you’d keep me waiting.”

You paused, smiling at the teasing voice. You’d almost forgotten. Turning, you found the owner a short distance away.

Ardyn was leaning against one of the great pillars holding up the awning, head tilted down and arms crossed, one leg laced over the other. You could see he still wore that smug, sly expression, directed at the ground with lidded eyes, as if it had been bold enough to comment on the soles of his boots.

You shook your head at him. “I’m sorry,” you said, wondering how long he’d been standing there. “They don’t like to let me off easy.”

He looked up then, his calculating, omnipotent eyes drinking in your form. They, too, held that smirk just as well as his lips.

“I only jest,” he reassured. He pushed off from the pillar, beckoning you after him with a wave of his hand. “Come, my dear. I’ve parked just around the corner.”

You fell into step at his side, a brisk pace to keep up with his longer strides. You stole a breath of the sweet tinge of his cologne, a mix of vanilla and cinnamon. You wondered how much it cost; probably more than your biweekly paycheck.

“So, where are we going?” You asked, keeping up as he took a sharp left down the block, passing the startled faces of the sparse citizenry, who gave a wide berth in their chancellor’s wake.

“Ah, ah,” Ardyn tutted. “That would spoil the surprise.”

“Oh, a surprise?” You asked in wonder, smiling at the thought. You were already curious about what he had in store for you, but now you were even more so.

Ardyn returned your excitement with a grin of his own. “I think you’ll find it quite to your liking.”

“Is that so?” You said playfully, throwing him one of your own smirks.

“Consider it a guarantee,” he purred, grinning in a way that told you his confidence was not merely for show. He took the lead as you came up on a row of neatly parked cars at the end of the street.

You had to swallow a giggle when you saw which car he gravitated to, swinging open the passenger door for you. It certainly suited its owner, just as ardent as he was. A convertible colored dark maroon, much like Ardyn’s hair, with a white race stripe down the middle. A moogle pom pom had been stuck on the antenna, making the vehicle look almost comically whimsical. The top was down, revealing wine colored upholstery to match the paint job.

“Your chariot, my dear,” he hummed as you approached his car.

“Ever the gentleman,” you replied, settling into the red leather seat, the door slamming closed behind you. You paused, closing your eyes in a deep, silent sigh while his scent swallowed you whole, taking you captive with near overwhelming sweetness. Another wave of it washed over you as Ardyn took his place in the driver's seat, the engine humming to life not long after. Soon, you’d merged into traffic, and the library disappeared into the rear view mirror.

A comfortable silence filled the car, the wind whipping through your hair as you were enraptured by the sights that passed you by in a blur, one of restless crowds and neon signs. Each one an invitation, a trap laid simply, only willing to release those from their clutches whose purses had been emptied. You hadn’t the gil to entertain those desires, so you hadn’t seen much of Gralea’s famed nightlife, save for the trip you’d recently taken in its shadows. Even that had been different; most of it had died down by then. Now, you had a chance to experience it in its purest form, with someone who was undoubtedly versed in its culture. It almost felt like going to another country.

Meanwhile, Ardyn was humming away beside you, carefree as he drove you to his ‘surprise’. You smiled even wider when you recognized it as the song associated with the bright yellow birds you adored. You hadn’t taken Ardyn as a chocobo person, but the thought had you biting your tongue to stop yourself from giggling. This was the man you were afraid of not three days ago?

Perhaps there was hope for you yet.

Soon enough, it seemed Ardyn got bored of silence, and decided to fill it with his own voice instead.

“So, tell me,” He began, the words beckoning your attention away from the view. “How long have you been looking after Gralea’s biggest library?”

“Oh, only a few years,” you said, surprised by his interest. “Got recruited right out of college, and I’ve been there since. This’ll be my fourth year working there.”

“Truly? It seems I’ve been missing out, locked in my ivory tower. Tragic, really.”

You let out a nervous chuckle, looking back out the lowered window so he couldn’t see you blushing. “I’m sure I’m no better than the last one. Besides, we can’t change the past,” you said honestly. “There’s no use in worrying about it.”

“Indeed we can’t,” Ardyn said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “We are simply forced to live with the consequences.”

You looked back at him after hearing the last word, the creeping darkness that had seeped into it just below the surface. The corner of his mouth twitched, his smile becoming strained as his grip around the wheel tightened. Though it wasn’t long before he remembered to compose himself, those brief emotions tucked away, for now.

Even though he didn’t say it, you knew you’d struck some kind of nerve. A stab of guilt creeped into your heart; you hadn’t meant to upset him. Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, he interrupted you, smirking as the car slowed.

“Ah, here we are,” Ardyn murmured, pulling his car in front of a building that stretched far into the sky. Deciding to let the previous exchange go, you gazed up at it as the engine died, wondering how many floors there were. A million, you thought in hyperbole, unclasping your seatbelt as Ardyn departed from his vehicle. Before you could even reach for the handle, he was there, opening the door for you and holding out his hand to help you out.

“Thank you,” you said as you placed your hand in his, his fingers curling delicately around your own. He gracefully pulled you onto the sidewalk, looking down at you with fond, half lidded eyes, your door falling closed behind you with a thud.

“Of course, my dearest,” he cooed, releasing your hand and offering up his arm in its place. You looked between him and it for a moment, before you snickered at his gentlemanly nature. You wrapped your hands around his strong forearm, and he began to lead you towards the looming skyscraper.

Between you and said building, a sizable crowd was loitering, the atmosphere filled with an energetic buzz that was almost suffocating. The street was awash with their laughter and conversations, made more boisterous as some teased drunkenness, booze flowing freely from somewhere unseen.

Not your type of people, if you were being honest, but usually you weren’t one to let such things bother you.

Usually.

It was as you got closer you realized how much different you were to these people. Not just in mannerism; it was obvious in something as simple as your state of dress. You weren’t someone who was big on expensive designer products, but even you could name some of the brands their garments oozed. Not only that, but there seemed to be only two options among them when it came to outfits; freshly pressed suits, or flowing, iridescent gowns. There was no in between, not a hint of anything casual to be found.

And you’d just come from work. You were in street clothes.

Being led towards the gathering by the imperial chancellor no less.

Your arrival hasn’t gone unnoticed, either. It didn’t surprise you that the chancellor’s presence was one to turn heads, but that fact was slightly more mortifying when you were practically hanging off him. Your eyes flicked from face to face, watching the raised eyebrows, the bewildered stares when they saw Ardyn’s company, no doubt questioning his choice of companionship. You wondered how truely low their opinion was of you, when they didn’t even have to pause their conversations to pass silent judgment.

You huddled closer to Ardyn, trying to find some semblance of comfort in his presence, even while he seemed none the wiser to their scrutiny.

“Are you…sure this is okay?” You asked meekly, staring out at the high class gathering around you. You wondered if it would tarnish his reputation, being seen with someone so much lower than him, even if he didn’t believe that himself. Surely word would get out he’d been seen with someone like you.

Ardyn, whom you would’ve considered observant before, seemed completely oblivious to the weird looks the two of you were getting. He rather appeared quite jovial, smirking at nothing in particular, like he’d been welcomed with a standing ovation.

“Hmm?” He hummed happily, an eyebrow going up at your question. “Is there a problem, my dear?”

“N-no, it’s just - ” you looked at the ground in shame, fearing your woe sounded juvenile. Your social anxiety was bad enough with Ardyn alone, but in crowds, being the center of attention made you want to jump out of your own skin. You just hoped you weren’t embarrassing him. “I’m not exactly…well dressed for the occasion.”

Ardyn hummed again, looking out at the gathering as if just now noticing them. Something darkened his features, sinister and wicked, as he continued to smile while locking eyes with the boldest of the bunch. A silent challenge for them to dare question whose company he chose to share.

The nobles all quickly looked away, smart enough to fear the chancellor’s wrath.

“Should there be any…complaints,” his lips curled even higher, making him almost look malicious. “I shall deal with them personally.”

You had no idea what he meant by that, but you heard the seriousness in his voice. He wasn’t bluffing. Knowing he was willing to stand up for you, you eased out a tense breath, nodding in thanks.

The people standing close to the glass double doors scurried away as you reached the building, Ardyn opening them so you could both enter. Your muscles relaxed when you were finally out from under the noble’s unabashed prying eyes.

Which didn’t last long, unfortunately. The inside wasn’t much different from the outside. A dark restaurant laid out before you, undoubtedly where the outside patrons had gotten their drinks. Standing tables littered the room, there wasn’t a chair in sight. It reminded you of the cocktail parties you’d seen on TV.

You’d never actually been to one of those.

The bar was taking up the entirety of the left wall. Bottles of all different colors and shapes decorated it, the glass reflecting the orange glow of the dim ceiling lamps. They were completely swamped by the looks of it, there weren’t any open stools. To make it worse for the staff, the people in here matched the ones outside; dressed nicely, and making enough noise to drown out the decades-old music that was playing overhead. You watched the wait staff as they darted around skillfully, only stopping to place drinks or small plates of food down before whisking away to the next table.

You hoped they got good tips.

You figured this restaurant was the reason Ardyn brought you here, but he didn’t even flinch as he led you past it all, heading for an elevator in the very back you hadn’t seen before. Without a word, he pressed the ‘up’ button, grinning at the slight look of confusion on your face.

The elevator slid open with a cheerful ding, and Ardyn ushered you on. It was empty, much to your relief, meaning you wouldn’t be pressed up against him. He pushed a button for a high floor, something in the 60’s, ascending as soon as the door closed again.

Awkward silences were becoming a common thing between the two of you, and the slow, jazzy elevator music only made it worse. Your fingers instinctively flexed around Ardyn’s arm, your breathing sounded deafening in your ears as anxiety began to spin its web around your heart. You should’ve been excited, but what had transpired outside left a sour taste in your mouth, and you couldn’t help feeling you didn’t belong. You could only imagine the place Ardyn was taking you had the same kind of clientele, their judgeful eyes seeing you as an easy target. An entire meal feeling like an insect under a microscope sounded miserable.

Something brushed over the top of your knuckles, pulling you back to reality. Looking down, you watched as Ardyn rested his free hand atop your own, giving your fingers a light squeeze of reassurance.

“You needn’t be so nervous,” he said quietly. Soothingly. “You’ve nothing to prove to me.”

You were silent for a moment, the gentleness in his voice pulling your gaze upward. He was smiling at you. Softly, sweetly…like he cared.

“All I ask is that you be yourself.”

Heh. Yourself.

When was the last time you were yourself?

Not since you were little, you realized. And what a sad thought that was.

Did you even know who you really were anymore?

Not really. It had been beaten out of you long ago. Your parents used it as an excuse to abuse you, your friends an excuse to exclude you. You’d decided it was better to keep it under lock and key, keep it hidden and guarded. Even someone as close to you as Satus could only say he saw part of it. It’d been years, but those wounds were still red and swollen.

In its place, you became an expert at crafting masks. If one friend group wanted you to act one way, you could, and another for a different group. If your parents expected you to be their pauper princess, then you could be so, to an extent. If your best friend said something you didn’t agree with, you found it hard to voice a dispute.

The poisonous flower of rejection had festered for years, building a cage of weaving roots around what you might call yourself.

And some part of you didn’t think you were wholly undeserving of those lashes.

You blinked, the memories causing your eyes to go misty. You swallowed the lump in your throat, wondering how long you’d been struggling with Ardyn’s statement. He was still waiting. Patiently, his gentle smile never left his face as he waited for an answer. His tolerance was surprising.

Perhaps…Ardyn was different. Maybe his request didn’t come with concealed expectations.

That was enough to give you a sliver of hope.

“…Okay,” you said, meeting his eyes. “I’ll…try.”

Arden nodded approvingly, giving your hand another squeeze. “That’s all I can ask.”

The rest of the elevator ride was in silence, both of you watching the glowing red numbers above the door count up.

While you hoped you weren’t getting too ahead of yourself…

The elevator dinged again, announcing that you'd arrived, the numbers now reading 64. The doors slid open, Ardyn stepping out with you as soon as they finished.

It was much brighter up here, which you appreciated. Ornate chandeliers dangled from a high ceiling, reflecting off the marble tiles and glass windows. The center of the room had been cut away, allowing you to see down into the lower floors between bars of railing. As you got closer to the edge, you could make out people scurrying around like little worker bees.

Your destination appeared to be along the far wall though, if the long line of people was any indication. Indeed, Ardyn leisurely steered you in that direction, allowing you to take in your surroundings. It was another dimly lit restaurant by the looks of it, although you couldn’t see far inside through the crowd. You just hoped you’d have some illusion of privacy while you dined.

Ardyn breezed past the line, which surprised you at first, before you remembered exactly who you were with. No one would dare make the imperial chancellor wait in a line, of all things. Commoner as you were, it felt quite strange to you, wrong somehow, but you knew it wasn’t your place to say anything. Best to just follow in Ardyn’s lead.

At the threshold, you were finally able to spot a sign displaying the restaurant’s name. When you read it, a small gasp parted your lips.

La Compañera. One of the best, and most expensive restaurants in all of Gralea. Their reservation list was full months in advance, from what you’d heard, and their meals could cost you a week's worth of work. The kind of place everyone knew of, talked about, but few could say they’d ever been. You’d given up on going there yourself, not on a librarian’s salary at least.

This was where Ardyn meant to take you?

You looked up at him with wondrous eyes. He, on the other hand, looked more smug than you’d ever seen him, like the whole of Eos was his to command. He had every right to be, too. It was no wonder he was so confident you’d like his choice for the evening.

“You should learn not to doubt me, dearest,” he said, basking in your amazement. He was enjoying your reaction a great deal.

“I thought you could only get in with a reservation,” you breathed, looking around with astonishment. The place was positively buzzing, a chorus of forks hitting plates and too many conversations to count. As you neared the hostess stand, you could even see a part of the kitchen off to your left, and you were able to hear the sizzling of meat, of pasta turning in a frothy boil. Delicious smelling vapors wafting from its steel appliances, making your mouth water in anticipation.

“Indeed,” Ardyn said cheerfully. “Though you’ll find few are bold enough to enforce such rules in my presence.”

You hummed at that, not doubting it, but wondering how that was going to work out. The restaurant only had so many tables, and if they were all full, him being chancellor wouldn’t mean much.

Your questions were soon answered, as you both stood before the hostess. She was dressed in a suit; white button up with black khakis, hair tied back as she scribbled down the names of arriving parties. You both waited for a moment, you assumed for her to acknowledge you, but instead another woman stepped before you, wearing the same uniform.

“Chancellor Izunia!” She chirped, smiling brightly at him. “It is an honor to serve His Excellency, as always.” She bowed low and deep, hand held daintily over her heart.

“The honor is all mine, Charlette,” Ardyn preened. With a flourishing wave of his hand, he gave his own short bow, which you were quick to copy. Although not before you shot him a questioning look; he knew their names?

“I was hoping to make use of our little arrangement,” he went on, straightening. “I could think of no better place, especially since I am want to entertain a special guest.”

He smirked down at you out of the corner of his eye. You looked away, trying to hide the creeping crimson that invaded your features.

“Of course, Chancellor,” the woman - Charlette - said. Reaching around her coworker, she grabbed two menus from the stand before making her way back into the depths of the restaurant, expecting you to follow. She led you through a wide eating area, dotted with tables dressed in white linens, flickering candles set in the center of each one. The place was huge, and you lost count of how many twists and turns it took to finally reach your table. It wasn’t just any either, tucked into a secluded corner, the angle perfect to keep prying eyes out. The wall it was pushed up against was made entirely of glass, allowing a grand, near endless view of the sprawling metropolis below. Your breath caught in your throat, admiring the sea of speckled lights, like stars swimming in benevolent waters.

You weren’t given much time to admire it though, Ardyn slipping from your grasp to take his seat, forcing you to do the same. The seats were heavy - expensive, you corrected - the wood polished and dark as you settled into it. Your hostess turned waitress placed the menus in front of you, and with a quick flick of her wrist, the candles sprung to life with gentle orange flames. She tucked her lighter into a pocket as she set another small sheet of paper down, the drink menu, you assumed. With that, she was gone, disappearing into the throng of suited staff and pampered guests.

While you unfurled the neatly folded napkin and laid it across your lap, you eyed the silverware dubiously. It seemed each set came with two of each utensil, though a glance at Ardyn’s side of the table told you that was intentional. One bigger, and more square, the other dainty and curved. You may have pondered them longer, had your stomach not given a gentle roll, reminding you you hadn’t eaten dinner yet.

“If you’ll indulge me…” Ardyn said softly, beckoning your eyes upward. He sat with his chin resting on laced fingers, like he was making a decision of utmost importance. “It would be criminal to not let you sample some of their finest Cabernet Sauvignon. A rare find these days; the grapes are grown in Lucis.” Ardyn smirked, leaning back in his chair to lounge as if it were a throne.

You concealed your confusion as best you could. You had no idea what he just said, but he mentioned grapes, so you figured it was wine of some sort.

You’d hoped to avoid this, but you knew it was inevitable. Unfortunately, you’d never really come on to alcohol like most people. In fact, you hated the stuff, grimaced every time its foul taste met your lips. While your peers had been off making fake IDs and clubbing, you were sipping milk teas and reading books on the couch. Thinking back on it, it was really no wonder you weren’t invited to parties.

Of course, you couldn’t tell Ardyn that. It was silly, childish. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself by revealing you couldn’t handle your liquor. As much as it pained you to almost immediately break your promise to him, you couldn’t find the strength to be honest.

Instead, you smiled, meeting his honied eyes. “I’d be delighted,” you said sweetly.

Ardyn’s smirk grew at that. “Splendid. I’ll have them fetch us a bottle when they return.”

“Sounds good,” you said, eyeing the menu. Food seemed much more appealing at the moment. Your stomach gurgled its agreement.

The menu wasn’t big. That was a mark of its quality though, each dish more extravagant than the last. You only recognized a handful of them, but for those you did, you knew they were ones that required a careful hand, and hours of prep work. Things most people didn’t dare trying to make at home, lest they spend all day laboring over a ruined meal.

You’d been worried the place would be too high class to have anything you’d like, picky eater as you were, but it seemed you were in luck. One of their specials was something you’d had before, and it was one of your favorites. Your mother made it when your older sister got her doctorate. The dish had taken the entire day to prepare, but when you all sat down and took a bite, it was more than worth it. You hadn’t had it since then, and the thought of tasting it again brought a small smile to your face. The memory of its flavor ghosted across your tongue excitedly.

Having made your choice, and noticing Ardyn was still nose deep in one of the menus, you gazed out at the dining area, admiring the decor. The place was certainly designed with your scenario in mind, and you could see why. The place was dark, hushed, allowing a sense of seclusion for its diners. Candles and dim lights gave it a cozy feel, helped by the warmth of a fire crackling in a brick fireplace as its centerpiece. The restaurant’s popularity was clear; not a single table was left yearning for guests. Even the bar, which you’d passed on the way to your seat, had someone perched on each stool.

“Oh, I forgot to ask,” you said suddenly. “How did you manage to get this table? I know you’re the chancellor and all, but the place is always fully booked from what I’ve heard.”

Ardyn lowered his menu, meeting your eyes while chuckling lightly. “Oh, it is, though we have come to a certain agreement. I’ve prevailed upon our dear Emperor to accept his catering only from specific establishments. You’ll find not even the smallest of His Radiance’s galas are absent of such luxuries. In exchange, they’ve agreed to always save a table in my name, should I ever choose to stop by. A…mutually beneficial relationship.”

You paused to stare at him for a moment, his words digesting, before you couldn’t stop a light laugh from tickling up your throat. He was even cagier than you’d thought.

“Clever,” you complimented. It seemed he had the whole of Gralea wrapped around his fingers.

Ardyn positively beamed. “I have my moments.”

You both shared a laugh at that. Quite the understatement, you both knew.

As your snickers began to die down, your waitress returned, cradling a fancy, vase-like bottle filled with clear water, dropping it off as she asked for your orders. Ardyn got his special wine you couldn’t pronounce, along with one of the meals you didn’t recognize, and Charlette complimented his choice with a forced sweetness. It made you cringe a little, seeing her lick his boots as much as possible before she asked what you wanted. Such was one of the downsides of being with someone so high in Niflheim’s pecking order.

Once she was gone, you turned back to each other, Ardyn smiling brightly at your attention. It was so boyishly innocent, you couldn’t help returning it, even when you felt heat creeping up your neck. Oh, he was cute.

“I’d like to get to know you better, if you’ll humor me,” he said, leaning back in his seat, sinking into its cushions, his eyes partially lidded.

You nodded your approval; it was customary on first dates after all. You just hoped he’d give you a chance to do the same, though you had a feeling he probably couldn’t be as open as you’d like. Few could say they knew much about the chancellor, and you figured there was a reason for that. He’d be a tough nut to crack, but you had a deep desire to find out more about him.

Parallels between Real Ardyn and Dream Ardyn aside…

“You said you attended university before starting your career,” he began. “What did you study under their tutelage?”

“Public relations,” your answer was automatic. The question had been asked countless times while you were a student, after all. “I also minored in ancient Lucian, but I’m a little rusty these days.”

It was true, you’d once been semi-fluent. The language had caught your attention after you’d learned of your ancestry. While your blood was mostly a mix of Niff and Tenebraen, a drop of Lucian ran through your veins. Bred out through generations, your ancestors had once owned land there. When you’d found out, you liked the idea of connecting with that part of yourself, and, for once, your parents agreed. Dead language though it was, many books from those days lived on, allowing people to study it as they pleased. Your own skills had atrophied though, having no one else to speak with, and little time to practice on your own. Sadly, more of it slipped through your fingers each day, but you could still hold a basic conversation.

Ardyn’s eyes practically sparkled at that. “Ancient Lucian?” He said slowly, wonder lacing his tone. “Now that is something you don’t hear very often.”

“It’s a pretty language,” you said, smiling with pride at how impressed he seemed. “It’s so different from our modern tongue, I loved seeing how much we’ve changed.”

Ardyn nodded. “I must say, I’m surprised. Few have the patience to learn it.”

“Yeah, my classes were pretty small. And it doesn’t translate into the modern word very well. Plus all the symbols…”

“A challenge I’m sure you more than excelled at facing. You’ll have to demonstrate for me sometime,” Ardyn chortled. “I’ve yet to meet anyone able to master it.”

“‘Master’ is a strong word,” you chuckled. “I haven’t been able to practice much now that I've graduated, but I’d like to get better at it again.”

“Perhaps I can be of some assistance,” he smirked. “I have known it for many, many years.”

Your eyes widened, and you gaped at him, much to his amusement.

“You know Ancient Lucian?!” You said, astounded. How, why did he know ancient Lucian? You hadn’t met another person who knew it since you left school.

“Indeed I do,” Ardyn purred, pleased with the bewilderment that twisted your expression. “Our friends across the pond found the idea of communicating in a language we couldn’t understand quite grand, given the circumstances. Our intelligence agencies have become versed in the tongue to compensate, and I followed suit, so I may be kept abreast of their messages without the need for a translator.”

After hearing his explanation, you relaxed a little, glad there was an actual reason for it. Though, something still nagged at you from the back of your head. A strangeness you didn’t know how to name, something that felt…off. You decided to ignore it, all too happy to accept what he’d said.

Just a coincidence…The dreams may have been in the past, but it’s just a coincidence.

That’s what you kept telling yourself, at least.

“Makes sense,” you said with a nod. “Hard to spy on someone when you can’t understand them.”

“Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer,” Ardyn shrugged.

As he finished his sentence, fancy curved wine glasses were placed in front of you. Charlette smiled triumphantly as she brandished the dark green bottle, residue of a wax seal dripping down the neck, the cork already gone. She filled your glasses halfway, a forced smile on your lips as you watched it fizzle and foam slightly. She left the rest on Ardyn’s side, bidding you adieu with reassurances that your meals would be out shortly.

Ardyn picked up his glass by the stem, swirling the scarlet liquid under his nose. You took yours as well, thinking how it was like coffee: smelling much too sweet for what bitterness it contained. With an approving smile, Ardyn brought the wine to his lips, and you quickly followed suit. Some part of you hoped it wouldn’t be as bad as you were expecting.

You tried your best not to make a face. You really did. Despite your efforts, you could feel the faint contorting of your expression turning sour. The potent flavor of alcohol permeated your entire mouth in seconds, like someone had cracked open a battery over your tongue, letting the vitriolic acid burn into your taste buds. The PH so low it brought back memories of being violently sick over a toilet.

You gulped it down quickly, relishing in the whisper of sweetness that followed the disgusting liquid. At least with wine, there was a pleasant, fruity aftertaste.

When your eyes flicked up at your companion, you had a new reason to grimace. Ardyn was staring at you, a brow raised, with the slightest frown on his face.

“Something the matter, dear?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned. “Is it not to your liking?”

Oh, bless his heart. He doesn’t realize it’s not this wine I have a problem with.

“Ah -” you hedged, placing your glass back on the table shamefully. You’d hoped you would be able to get through at least a few sips before you made your distaste known.

“I’m sorry,” you said, hating yourself for not being able to just suck it up. “I’m just…not really a fan of most alcoholic beverages. Pure acid…” you muttered the last bit under your breath.

A long pause followed, Ardyn staring at you. You acquainted yourself with the table cloth, fidgeting nervously under his gaze.

You looked up in shock as a hearty laugh filled your ears.

“Is that all, my dear?” Ardyn said between laughs. “Why, you almost had me worried! I was afraid you’d taken ill.”

You blinked owlishly, not expecting his reaction. You let out your own laugh, albeit a nervous one. “No no, I’m fine. Just can’t stomach the stuff. Especially champagne. Never been able to enjoy it.”

“Well, I’d hate to bring you such discomfort.” Ardyn continued to snicker while he spoke. “I’ll have the waiter fetch you something more suitable.”

“Oh that’s okay.” You waved your hand dismissively. You didn’t want to seem picky or ungrateful. “I’m fine with water, you don’t have to -”

But it was too late, Ardyn already waving over one of the attendants that passed by. A tall young man with hair cut down nearly to the roots, a thin mustache on his lip.

“Might you be so kind as to fetch my friend something more to her liking?” Ardyn was saying, the man leaning down to hear him. “Preferably something…virgin? I’m sure you can think of an agreeable substitute.”

The attendant glanced at you, his brown eyes analytic, calculating as he studied you. Just as quickly, an uttered “Of course, your Excellency,” left his mouth before he turned and disappeared into the restaurant.

You sighed at his retreating back, shaking your head. “You didn’t have to do that, it was fine, I promise.”

“Oh but it wasn’t,” he gave you a pointed look. “I’ll not have it be known I’m a bad host. Besides, we came here to enjoy ourselves, and it seems unfair to let me have all the fun.”

Well, you supposed you couldn’t argue with that. He had a point, after all. And hard as you tried to fight it, a little smile crept across your cheeks. It was…kind of sweet.

“Thank you,” you said to the table. The thoughtfulness made a fuzzy warmth settle in your chest.

Ardyn didn’t respond, though his expression softened. A slow nod was all that was needed to show he accepted your gratitude.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to return to our previous conversation,” he said gently, his fingers laced in his lap and elbows resting on the armrests of his chair.

Looking up, you nodded. “Right.”

“Tell me, do you have any family living in our lovely capital?”

Your smile faltered, fists clenching in your lap, bunching up the napkin. You hadn’t expected him to jump to that so soon. The fuzz in your chest burned like kindling, and you averted your gaze, hoping he couldn’t see the extent of the sourness that replaced your smile.

“They, uh….We’re not exactly on good terms.” You picked at a loose string on the tablecloth, unable to meet his eyes.

“My apologies. I did not mean to upset you.”

“No,” you said quickly, turning back to him. “No, it’s okay. It’s just…I…” You paused trying to think of how to phrase it.

“They always wanted me to be perfect,” you started, pushing down and burying the anger that tried to resurface with the memories. “I was never good enough for them, and they made sure I knew it. They always wished I’d been a son. And my older sister was never any help.”

You swallowed, the lump that’d formed in your throat making it harder to talk with each word. It’d taken years, and lots of therapy, to be able to talk about it at all. You still couldn’t without emotions that’d been left to fester in stained jars from clawing at your skin, threatening to spill. For what does a child crave more than the love of their mother and father?

They only ever saw you as their maid, though. You were cooking the family meals by the time you were ten, cleaning the house and doing the chores since seven. Your family was the proud owner of a successful orchard to the east of the capital, meaning their house was nothing to sneeze at. More of a mansion, but to you it was more of a prison, trapped with a father who shouted and a mother who demeaned. You were beaten into submission, burned and flayed and ripped until you were their perfect little princess, a trained monkey for all to gawk at.

You supposed all the love they had was used up on your sister, whom they spoiled to the point of being rotten. She loved how much they favored her over you. It was like a sport to her, to see how much trouble she could get you into. Any attempts to stand up to her were rewarded with a lock on your door, and a night without dinner. Some part of you did pity her though; she was but a pampered poodle after all. More of an object to your parents than a person, something to flaunt to their rich neighbors.

Schooling wasn’t something they were overly fond of you participating in, since your sister had already proven herself superior in that field. She won awards at science fairs while your grades were good, but not spectacular. A failing in their eyes. When eighteen rolled around, their boot was already firmly placed in your back, the door to their estate shutting with a thunderous crack behind you. They would suffer a runt no longer.

You tensed when something kicked you, snapping you out of your dark memories. Your brows furrowed, and you stared down at the table as if you might see through it. Then - there it was again. Something nudged your shin.

It was Ardyn. His smirk had been wiped clean off, and was replaced with a gentleness you hadn’t seen before. It…looked like sympathy.

“I know the feeling all too well,” he answered your unspoken question. “I never lived up to my family’s standards, so I became an outcast.” Something flicked across his face, and you blinked, recognizing it. It looked similar to what happened when he saw Jeremy; an untamable rage that was held by a leash ripe for snapping. Gone before you had a chance to really see it, buried as deep as it would go.

Well…family issues could certainly explain his bitterness.

You sensed his leg was still encroaching on your side of the table. Thankful that he snapped you out of your whirlpool of thoughts, you decided to return the favor. Sinking down into your seat a little, you reached out with your right foot, finding his boot easily. Delicately, you curled your ankle, giving his shin a comforting rub.

A soft smile returned to his face when he felt you. You gave him one of your own, feeling he deserved to be soothed too.

“So…we’re both a little broken,” you said, like you were sharing a secret. “Maybe we can help each other pick up the pieces, if you’re willing.”

He hummed in thought, letting his smile grow back into a smirk. Good - he was feeling better, then.

“I’d like that,” he said, twirling the stem of his wine glass in his fingers. “If you’re willing to put up with the ravings of an old man.”

You scoffed at him. “You’re not old!” You waved your hand at him in offense. “You look thirty!”

“Close,” he teased, sipping his drink. “I’m thirty-three.”

“See? That’s not old.”

He snickered at how adamant you were. You certainly had fire when you wanted to.

“I don’t suppose I’ll be winning this one.” He leaned back in his chair, defeated. “Ugh, where were you on the council when I needed you?”

“I don’t think I’ve got the patience for politics,” you giggled at the thought. “I’d speak out of line once and get thrown in jail.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised. Especially with the epidemic of incompetence spreading through the Emperor's cabinet as of late.”

“Giving you trouble, are they?” You said with a chuckle.

“All the time.”

You laughed whilst he shook his head, rubbing his temple in frustration. You supposed even the chancellor couldn’t escape the woes of annoying colleagues.

“Who’s the worst of the bunch?” You probed, not really expecting an answer.

“General Calligo Ulldor,” he said without hesitation, letting out an angry sigh. “He has an ego bigger than the imperial legions, and that is saying something.”

You hummed, taking a sip of water. You could feel its cold touch glide down your throat as you drank. You hadn’t noticed until then, but your mouth had gone quite dry over the course of the evening.

“Never heard of him,” you said, placing your glass back on the table. You weren’t big on politics, but you still knew some of the people on the imperial council. Aside from Ardyn, that is.

He grinned widely at your statement, a mischievousness darkening his eyes.

“I’ll be telling him that when next I see him. He’ll have an utter fit over it.”

You scoffed again. “I doubt he cares what some commoner thinks.”

“And you would be forgiven for that assumption, inaccurate as it may be. The man believes his name echoes from the coasts of Niflheim to the walls of Insomnia.”

“Damn…that is a big ego.”

You smiled as Ardyn laughed, one that was carefree and jovial. You liked that look on him. You decided you wanted to see him laugh like that more.

Right as he was settling down, your waitress returned, steaming plates balanced in one arm while she held a glass in the other. You’d completely forgotten about the drink Ardyn ordered for you, but its bright red color betrayed something sweet, and you were a sucker for sweet things. The warm plate she placed in front of you looked just as appetizing; you didn’t need to sink your fork into it to tell it was cooked to perfection, its savory aroma prompting an impatient growl from your belly.

You both thanked the waitress and she was off, leaving you alone to enjoy your meals. Ardyn encouraged you to tell him if it was all to your liking, and you nodded, though you doubted you would be disappointed. It all looked perfect.

Holding up his glass, Ardyn proposed a toast to your budding relationship. Taking your own, you adorned a goofy smile as your glasses tinked together, both of you taking swigs of your drinks. This one was infinitely better, a mix of ulwaat berries and the sharp taste of oranges. These were the kind of drinks you could suck down all day.

The food was the real highlight though, which was to be expected. As soon as the first forkfull hit your tongue, you melted into your seat, closing your eyes blissfully to bask in the heavenly flavor. It was even better than you could’ve imagined.

For those first few bites, neither of you insisted on conversation, too busy savoring your dishes. Glancing at Ardyn’s, you still weren’t entirely sure what it was, but it looked like some kind of fancy casserole; a layer of starchy substance concealed a treasure of meat and vegetables. You’d have to ask him what it was later.

After a few minutes, Ardyn resumed asking you questions in between bites. You were happy to oblige, the conversation flowing more freely. He started by asking about your hobbies, mercifully leaving the issue of your family aside. You told him about them in scant detail, curious what his own hobbies were, and asking him as much. He told you he fancied all different manners of wine, though that wasn’t much of a revelation, given his enthusiasm for the stuff. He also told you he was rather good at chess, which surprised you. You asked him to play you sometime, though he warned your odds of winning against him were slim, at best. You made him promise not to go easy on you.

By the time you two were done exchanging stories of how you fell into your passions, your plates were greasy and cold, your glasses empty and stained. Ardyn drank almost the entire bottle of wine on his own, yet he didn’t seem even the slightest bit tipsy. He must’ve had a high tolerance, since he seemed to drink it often, by the way he spoke about it.

As soon as you both were satisfied, Charlette appeared, gathering your dirtied plates and asking if you had interest in dessert. Ardyn looked to you wordlessly, leaving the decision in your hands. As much as you were tempted, you were full enough on dinner, and chose to decline. With that, she took the last of the wine, saying she would keep it for his next visit, and add the night's meal to his tab.

When she departed for the final time, Ardyn stood, strutting to your side so he could hold out his hand for you. You blushed a little as you placed your hand in his, letting him help you up. Somehow it felt more intimate then, the way he smiled at you with his trademark smirk and gave his arm for you to take. It felt less like it was just for show and more like he may actually have some interest in you.

As dizzying as the thought was.

But you weren’t going to let your doubts dampen your mood. A pleasant contentment had laid its roots in you, blooming into a smile that wouldn’t leave your face. The evening had gone better than you could’ve expected. Even though there was some initial nervousness, and the hiccup of your family affairs, your conversation had otherwise come naturally. Both of you teased each other, cracked jokes, made like a merry couple, all things considered. It made you feel good. It put a spring in your step as you were walked back to the elevator.

Ardyn, of course, insisted on taking you home. You agreed readily; the building was much too far from home to walk, which left you with few options. Not that you minded, you were feeling more confident in Ardyn’s presence after the night you shared.

The ride home was lethargic, your bodies busy processing what you’d put in them. Ardyn made his way to your apartment without issue, parking his car right next to the front doors. When you got out, so did he, asking if he could walk you to your room. You hesitated at first, but you allowed it. You didn’t want to leave his side just yet. Standing next to him was starting to feel warm. Comforting.

The elevator ride was a silent one, but this time the painful prick of awkwardness was noticeably absent. It let you off with a ding, and you led Ardyn down the row of cookie cutter doors to what you called home.

“This is me,” you said, gesturing to one close to the end. The only distinguishing feature a gold 1021 glued under the peephole.

“…Thank you,” you said, turning to where Ardyn stood behind you, watching you fish around in your purse for your keys. “For tonight, I mean. I had fun.”

Ardyn’s eyes softened. “As did I,” he said.

You stared at each other for a long moment, not saying anything, wondering how you should part from each other. You weren't sure if you should do something more. Should you say goodnight? Hug him? Kiss him? The possibilities swirled in your head, indecision pulling her boney fingers through your hair.

Though, as usual, Ardyn knew what to do. He stepped forward, the familiar feeling of his fingers under your chin welcome. Perhaps it was the lighting, but his amber eyes seemed to glow as he looked down at you.

“Might I be so bold…” he murmured, his half lidded irises blinking long and slow. “As to wish you a goodnight?”

He carded his thumb across your lower lip, a wake of tingling skin left after it. His gaze darted down to watch your mouth get pulled apart ever so slightly, before his eyes snapped back up.

He wanted to say goodnight… but not with words.

Your eyes widened. Did he…really want to…?

It was a little scary, when you realized what exactly he was asking of you. What if you weren’t good enough? Would you disappoint him? Hell, were you even ready for this?

You trembled with a full body shudder, the answer your soul gave shaking you to your core.

“Yes,” you breathed, letting your consent hang in the air as the tension between you two balanced on a knife's edge. Your tongue wet your lips as you allowed your eyes to fall and linger on his mouth, before being caught again by his saucers of honey.

Ardyn hummed in pleasure, holding your chin up for himself.

“Close your eyes…” he whispered.

You obeyed without hesitation, blood rushing in your ears as the anticipation made your muscles tighten.

The ghosting of his breath across your face preceded him. You curled your toes, waiting, and when the stubble of his beard scratched your skin, his lips finally meeting yours, time slowed to a stop.

His touch had always sparked heat deep beneath your skin, a crackling fire of emotions you didn’t dare name.

But this…this was a bonfire, one that struck like lightning down to your fingertips, a raging blaze that stole your breath away. His mouth was soft, decadent in the way it slowly massaged into yours, delectable in the way his beard contrasted his lips. You could sense the faint, sweet taste of the wine he’d had, making him all the more delicious.

It took you a moment to come down from your high, remembering to return his gentle caress. The care he took to familiarize himself with how you moved kept making you lightheaded. Even though he took the lead, he wasn’t demanding. Ardyn allowed you to get lost in the movement, your fingers curling as a need began to bloom in the bowels of your core.

He was addicting.

Whatever fleeting thoughts occupying your brain vanished, leaving behind only the need to join him in that dance. You sighed contentedly into him, melting into his form, your hands coming to rest on his chest. Ardyn made a pleased sound, his own hands dropping to hold your hips, keeping you flush against himself.

It was all at once long and indulgent and over far too soon. You parted from each other with a wet, satisfying pop, panting not from lack of breath, but from the magnitude of what you’d just done. You got kissed by the chancellor. And fuck, you’d liked it. You’d liked it a lot. Your eyes fluttered open, watching him, hoping he’d enjoyed that as much as you had.

Ardyn’s face shone with the gentlest blush, his eyes slightly wide and unblinking. He looked at you like you were a great mystery to him, something he lacked the tools to figure out. He was at a loss for words, his neck showing the faintest hints of perspiration.

But even while his face was contorted with confusion, he couldn’t hide the desire that burned deep within his eyes.

There was a long pause that followed, the two of you just staring at the other. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what you would do.

It did not have to wait long for an answer.

Something in Ardyn snapped. He suddenly lunged forward, sweeping you up and forcing a startled yelp from you, shoving you against your door. The sound was barely out of your throat when he claimed your lips again, holding your body delightfully hostage between himself and cheap wood.

At first, the kisses were light and airy. Perhaps even hesitant, both of you scared of what further indulgence would entail.

But soon, they were needy, desperate. You could sense it in the way he moved, how he clung to you like he feared the very thought of letting go. Like he’d wandered a barren desert all his life, only to now be blessed with the quenching mist of morning rain. You were his salvation, locked away and hidden by those who would wish him suffering.

And you were just as parched, just as depraved in your search for relief.

You could feel the door strain behind you, creaking while it struggled to hold as it pressed against your back, Ardyn humming a possessive growl into your skin.

You held on to his roaming forearms for stability, trying to remain grounded enough to return his sweet affections. The worries from the night, the week before melted away, massaged out of you by the passion, the hunger in his eyes.

So what if it all collapsed, really? Did it matter, when you breathed in Ardyn’s scent, his musk, as you moved to run your fingers through his hair, scraping your nails along his scalp. Oh, and the little whine of delight he made when you nipped his lower lip, his excitement brushing against your thigh.

So what if the world fell apart tomorrow, spoiled by fire and brimstone?

Would it matter, would you care?

No, you realized, humming into his mouth, cupping his stubbly cheek in one hand. His own traveled your sides, slowly dragged up and down, from where your bra could be felt through your shirt down to your hips. His nose pressed against yours, his bangs tickled your forehead.

You gasped when something slick traced your lower lip. You hadn’t expected him to be so bold. But you immediately let him in, unable to stop a slight moan as his tongue darted inside you. The remnants of his meal remained on the dexterous muscle, spreading the exotic spices across your taste buds as he explored your mouth. It intertwined with your own, bringing you together in a deep, primal way.

You could feel heat gathering below you, soiling your underwear. A pressure that built with every featherlight touch.

You felt slightly filthy for it. Normally, you weren’t really one to have sex on a first date.

But he felt so good. So right.

Your left hand untangled from his hair, groping blindly at the door holding you up, trying to fiddle with the handle.

“Do you…want to…come inside?” You asked between kisses, chasing his lips as he dove down to nibble the tender flesh of your neck. You groaned in appreciation, your fingers flying back into his hair.

When your words finally registered, Ardyn froze. You could’ve wailed when he leaned back slowly, meeting your eyes with a calculating expression.

You immediately felt guilt squeeze your chest. You’d overstepped.

“I don’t believe…” Ardyn said through heavy breaths. “…that would be appropriate of me, given how long we’ve known each other.”

Your face fell, as did your heart. The heat inside you fizzled, fading into embarrassment that made you want to sink into the ground.

He must surely think you a whore, now. Gods, you’d ruined it.

“Now, now,” he said gently, taking your crestfallen face into his palm. A sweet smile returned to his features as he rubbed fond circles into your cheek. “There’s no need to look so disappointed.” He leaned down sinfully close to your ear, his voice a siren’s song. “I am not opposed to having a bit of fun, once we come to know each other better.”

Your heart leapt at that. So there was still hope for you.

Ardyn chuckled when we leaned back, noticing how your face had brightened. You were just adorable.

“Speaking of which,” he began, letting his hands fall from you as he took a step back. Your body unconsciously swayed in his direction, missing the warmth of his caress. Oh, how he’d never get tired of watching you chase his touch. “I had plans to spend the afternoon at the imperial gardens at his Radiance’s humble abode. It would bring me unending delight if you were to join me.”

You stared at him with wide, excited eyes. “Is that allowed?” You asked. Not just anyone was permitted into the imperial palace, especially common folk. You’d only ever seen it in passing, from the outside.

Ardyn grinned mischievously. “With my blessing, you are allowed anywhere, my dearest. Sans perhaps, the Emperor’s private quarters. I don’t believe he would find it amusing if we visited him uninvited.”

You laughed quietly at the thought. Ardyn certainly had an interesting sense of humor.

Stepping up to him, you caught him in a tight embrace, burying your face in his chest, reminding yourself of when you’d done the same thing in a dream. His clothes were just as comforting and full of warmth as then too, and you delighted in the movement of his lungs, the beating of his heart. After a moment, he held you with just as much enthusiasm, one hand rhythmically combing through your hair while the other cupped the small of your back.

“I’ll see you again tomorrow?” You asked, looking up at him in question. He still had that soft adoring smile on his face, and you could’ve melted at seeing it displayed for you.

He brushed the back of his knuckles across your cheek, widening your pleased grin.

“I swear it on my honor as Chancellor,” he smirked, that whimsical mischief you were coming to know returning to his eyes.

You giggled at him, releasing his waist in favor of taking his hand from your face, pressing a delicate kiss on the back of his fingers. “A simple promise would do.”

“Then a promise you’ll have,” he said. “I’ll have an attendant ready for you by noon tomorrow. Make sure you’re ready a few minutes prior to his arrival, it would be a shame to make him wait.”

You gave a short nod. “I’ll be there.”

“Good.” You released his hand as he stepped backward, waving as he turned toward the elevator. “With that, I bid you farewell. Until tomorrow.”

You returned his wave smally, watching him go.

“Good night, Ardyn.”

He paused midstep, looking at you over his shoulder. He’d almost forgotten.

“Good night…花.” (hana)

Your eyes widened, a soft gasp falling from your lips as he smirked at you. He continued on down the corridor, as carefree as he was at the convenience store.

Like he hadn’t just called you his flower in ancient Lucian.

Your head spun with it, a flush washing down to your fingertips. It was so…intimate, in a different way. Like a promise, a trusted secret. You almost wanted to call after him, say something in return, but you couldn’t think of anything suitable. Plus, you didn’t want to overstep so soon after you’d already stumbled. He’d set a pace for the both of you in this. The least you could do was respect it.

So, with some reluctance, you focused on getting your door open. Still, you couldn’t wipe your stupid smile from your face. He called you flower, you thought giddily, the door clicking softly as the lock was undone. You closed it gently behind you, not wanting to wake your neighbors. Glancing at the digital clock on your stove, it was already well past ten. The fact had your body sagging. It’d been easy to ignore your tiredness before, but now that you were alone, it struck you with full force. It was past your bedtime.

Throwing your purse onto the coach carelessly, you got ready for bed. Your brain was filled with the memories of your night out, replaying the best parts as you showered and changed. You’d had more fun than you thought you would.

And you were going to see him again tomorrow!

You let out a happy sigh at the reminder, snuggling into bed. You were excited to see him.

So much so, it was almost enough to make you forget about your dreams. And the nagging sense of wrongness that was an incessant thorn in the back of your mind, as you drifted off to sleep.

“Sleep well…あなた.” (anata)

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

Ardyn slammed his fist against the elevator wall, the metal groaning as it caved from the force. Another dent for the disgusting bucket that building called a lift.

“Gods damn it all,” he muttered, a fury that was all too familiar making him tremble with a need to release it.

The kiss had been a test. He wanted to know how much the gods had made you in Aera’s image, and your little date gave him the perfect opportunity to test not only your personality, but also your more…intimate mannerisms. A quick peck was all it was meant to be.

But it became so much more. When his lips touched yours, he got the same feeling he did when he kissed his beloved. How his heart felt like it was soaring, content and ignorant of the turmoil that shook the ground below. With her, he forgot his hurts as a healer who absorbed the scourge, and instead could simply exist. Pretend for a few moments he lived a peaceful life with his beloved, drowning in the happiness she wrought.

And it’d happened again. He felt it as soon as he kissed you. That happiness, the love he craved so deeply, even if he denied it. Your lips had moved with that same feeling of reverence, the same unconditional love he once felt from her. When you parted from each other, his soul screamed, for it was desperate to feel even an ounce of that again.

So, against his better judgment, he’d kissed you again. And again. And again. He let himself get lost in it, closing his eyes as he remembered her. He could picture it, stealing time away from his duties to waste it in the gardens together. Or stolen moments at the inn of the town he was curing, where they would relax for a short while before their callings beckoned them onward.

Until you spoke, that is, reminding him who it was he was actually kissing.

That had been a splash of cold water to his senses, and he knew he had to stop. He’d let it go on for far too long.

His fingers hesitantly traced his lips, which tingled with the memory of your touch. No, it hadn’t been the exact same as Aera, he realized. You were both gentle in your affections, certainly, but there was something else in yours. A fiery determination mixed with a hint of apprehension. You weren’t as sure of yourself as Aera was, but you had enough will to fight that part of yourself when you wanted to.

He let out an angry sigh as the doors slid open to the lobby. He’d have to do more tests to be certain.

The dinner had been fruitful at least. Even though he was a bit sad to see you still couldn’t be completely honest with him, he’d expected as much. Well, no matter. He’d just have to break down your walls, earn your trust. Something he could call himself an expert in.

Still, he’d gotten quite a bit out of you. He learned enough to tell that you were not a carbon copy of his Aera, which had him relieved. He’d been worried the gods would be too lazy to think of anything else, couldn’t imagine anyone besides her holding him in any positive regard. That they would copy and paste her personality, her wants, her passions onto another body, plastering another face over it.

They hadn’t, though, which surprised him. Aera had been a fan of architecture, something that you displayed no interest in. Reading was something you had in common, but he supposed he couldn’t really blame you for that one - you worked in a library after all. She also had no issues with her family, at least none that he could recall. No, you were your own person. The gods had given him a small mercy on that front.

Yet that mercy was a double edged sword. While he could confirm you were your own person, he could also confirm there was unmistakably something bigger at play here. It was no coincidence you made him feel the ways Aera did. And it was no coincidence you’d met now, so close to the cursed prophecy’s end.

A prophecy he was now certain had begun pulling at your strings.

Though for what purpose, he still couldn’t say.

He’d have time to figure it out though, under the guise of more ‘dates’.

Speaking of which…

Ardyn pulled out his phone, dialing a number as he slammed his car door shut. It rang once before it was answered.

“Yes, your Excellency?” The scratchy voice of one of his servants chirped.

Ardyn said your name, your full name, into the device. “I want you to find me the location of her immediate family. I’d like to pay them a visit…”

“At once, your Eminence.”

———————————————————————

Thank you everyone for the patience and support. It has really helped me get back into this, now that I have time.

I kept things like Reader's hobbies and what they were eating vague so you can put in whatever you like :). I personally imagined reader got some delicious beef wellington and Ardyn got a shepherd's pie. I head canon he likes commoner food, it's comforting for him.

Also, since some of you know I do have some childhood trauma, I just want to say the stuff I said about reader's family is completely fictional. My family is wonderful and I love them very much. We're going out for drinks later :) (yes the alcohol thing is real though so wish me luck lmao).

Also also I decided since I'm semi bilingual I wanted to add some Japanese into the story! Don't worry, I'll make sure to put translations in the text where it appears, that way you don't have to scroll/look anything up to understand it. This time is the exception because I wanted it to be a surprise. Japanese definitely exists inside FFXV already, I'm just tweaking it so it can be a sweet little thing between Ardyn and reader :) Hope you enjoy it!

Translations: 花 = flower あなた = dear (or a general term of endearment)

No, the dreams weren't in ancient Lucian, they were in English. Reader didn't even know they were in Lucis during them, and probably still has some doubt about the exact location.

Anyway, I've set a routine for myself to write a little bit everyday, which I hope I can adhere to. Please look forward to future chapters!

#ardyn #ardyn izunia #ardyn lucis caelum #ardyn x reader #ardyn izunia x reader #ardyn x you #ffxv fanfic #also on ao3

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kindheart525 · 9 months

Text

There was a cave on the rock farm playfully dubbed the “Crying Cave” by the sisters when they were young, a nickname which ended up sticking well into their adulthoods. It was a place where any of the Pies could go, in moments of strife, to cry, scream in anger, or simply think. The crystals were like friends to listen to your problems; they would always be there.

Limestone Pie had avoided lingering here after her father passed, only entering its secluded walls to mine whatever resources she needed and then leave. Even when her other family members took their time in there to mourn, she didn’t need to. Or she just…didn’t have the time for it.

But it was exactly where she knew she’d find her son, who had a lot to think about as of late. And now…so did she.

“Mountain Peak!”

The mare called out in her usual harsh tone, but then attempted to soften her voice.

“You in here?”

“Agh! I mean, yep! I’m here!”

Mounty appeared over a wall of crystals, his eyes widened in surprise. Lime couldn’t quite tell if he flew up there or jumped out of fear.

The colt’s expression shifted to vague disappointment once he saw who it was. He landed on the other side of the wall, now looking guilty.

“I wasn’t gonna be in here for long, I promise! Pinkie Promise! I’ll get back ta work now, what did ya want me to do?”

“Sit down.”

Limestone ordered with the same authority as her own mother, though not as gently.

“Uh…please. I want to talk. We’ll work later.”

It was like Holder’s Bolder had cracked open in broad daylight. Limestone Pie remembering to say please and thank you!? Postponing work for even a minute!? He jested to himself…but she wanted to talk to him? Honest to Gaia?

At this point Mounty had almost resigned himself to never having a real conversation with her, but maybe Ma AJ had gotten through to her after all.

“What’s goin’ on?”

He asked, though both of them knew the answer.

Limestone stood in silence for a moment, moving her mouth like she was about to say something but then stopping to reconsider. She wasn’t so good with feelings.

“I…uh…”

Limestone cleared her throat, deciding she wasn’t going to dance around this and drag it out more than she needed to. The colt could handle a straightforward explanation.

“Your Ma talked to me today, while we were out running errands. About how you’ve been behaving and how you’re feeling. You talked to her, right?”

“Yes?”

What are you gettin’ at here?

Mounty was confused as he wondered if he was in for a scolding or a real conversation.

“I know it’s been hard for you since your grandpa, ahem, passed on. And if your Ma’s right, I guess I’ve made it worse. A lot worse.”

A new pang of guilt shot through her as she said this, thinking of how she’d treated him.

Mounty, the unabashedly good-natured colt he was, opened his mouth like he was about to stop her, say, no, you didn’t, it’s okay. But that would have been a lie.

“Taking apart that machine you built is probably the worst thing.”

Limestone started going through the list in her head of things to apologize for, one by one, without fooling around.

“You didn’t take time off from work to build that thing. It even got you your cutie mark. It showed a lot of craftponyship and planning, and you should be proud. Even though I didn’t agree with the purpose, I shouldn’t have gotten all pissed off like that. I wouldn’t like it if somepony destroyed my hard days’ work like that.”

“It ain’t about the slide.”

Mounty frowned.

“I could build a new one o’ those no problem. It’s all those nasty things you said, ‘bout how I wasn’t doin’ anythin’ useful with mah cutie mark. An’ how I was disrespectin’ not only Grandpa but the whole family. Don’t you remember? That hurt somethin’ awful.”

“Yeah…”

Limestone cringed at herself, not just for what she said but how she was trying to talk her way around these more deeply-cutting actions of hers.

“That was bad, even for me. And it isn’t even true. Look—“

She sat up straighter to look him squarely in the eye.

“It took me a long time to realize this but I was wrong. About a lot of things. Like what your Grandpa would have wanted. If your Grandma and Great Aunt Morganite know anything, it’s that he would have liked that slide of yours. And…I’m sorry I tried making you think otherwise.”

Apologizing was extremely hard for Limestone, so she broke her gaze and turned away, hardly wanting to look at the colt she’d wronged.

“Thank you.”

Mounty said.

“An’ even though I had my doubts sometimes, I reckon I always knew he woulda liked it. Y’see, the Hearth’s Warmin’ before he passed, Grandpa an’ I had a bit of time together, and we talked a bit. He said I had a mighty important role ta fill on the farm, that I’d help it flourish an’ be an asset the the family.”

“Did he?”

Limestone uttered.

“Yeah. I reckon I took that ta heart, tryin’ ta fill that role an’ make him proud ever since. Even when uh…some ponies said I wasn’t doin’ it right.”

Mounty didn’t want to be confrontational and say that it was really only Limestone who said this, but she knew what he meant.

“Damn. I spent this whole time trying to make him proud too. When all I’ve really been…”

Her voice choked up.

“Is an insult to his memory.”

She slammed her hat down on the ground, throwing it almost like it was something foreign, something that didn’t belong to her.

“He…I talked to him too. Did you know that? He told me to take care of our family and protect what we stand for. And…and I did anything but that!”

Mounty wasn’t sure what she was doing at first, with her face concealed behind the smooth silver curtain of her mane. Perhaps scolding herself in the anger that was typical of her. But no…she was crying.

This was a long time coming, yet it was so unusual that he didn’t know what to do. He’d never seen his Mom even shed a tear before now. After a few moments of letting her sit there and let it out, he whispered,

“You really do miss yer Pa, don’t you?”

“He…he taught me everything I know.”

Limestone sniffled, wiping her eyes.

“At least, he tried to. I don’t know how much I learned. I wish he were still here, to teach me all this again. I’d actually listen this time. I swear to Gaia.”

She turned to look at her son.

“Maybe then I’d figure out how to actually support my foals so they don’t keep having to run off to this stupid Crying Cave.”

“Well…there ain’t nopony sayin’ ya can’t start now.”

Mounty tried to reassure her.

“I’m sure he’ll be proud seein’ ya try. I’m sure he did appreciate you always thinkin’ of him even if you…didn’t always get it right.”

He smiled.

“But we’re both in this cave now. I reckon we both need it?”

Normally Lime would have scolded him about talking back to her, for suggesting she wasn’t doing her job right. For a split second she did think of it, but he was right. She had just admitted it herself. She had a lot of work to do.

And she had to be the adult and be there for him.

“I’ll try to figure it out myself, but don’t be scared to tell me when there’s a better way to do things if I don’t get it. Even if I’m all rocky and jagged about it.”

She chuckled at the pun.

“You’ll have to be able to take charge if you’re going to run this farm one day.”

Mounty gasped.

“Really? Me?”

“If Grandpa wills it, it will be so.”

She affirmed.

“Give me that.”

She gestured towards his bow tie, which he took off after a brief look of questioning.

And to his surprise, the mare who wouldn’t dare alter her father’s belongings tied the pink ribbon around his hat for a whole new look.

“Your Grandpa would be so proud of you, Mounty. You have all the creativity and care I now know was always in him. He was right, you’re one of the best things to ever happen to this farm and this family.”

At this point she was crying again and so was Mounty, with happiness this time. They could both feel their love for their respective Pa and Grandpa reflected in each other, more strongly than ever.

Mounty moved in for a hug, one that was much needed, with his wings and forelegs wrapped fully around his mother who finally returned the gesture.

After a good long moment, Limestone’s quivering lips turned up into a playful smirk.

“Now…what do you say we go rebuild that slide?”

She pushed the hat down on his head, prompting a fit of laughter.

“Haha! You think we can do it as good?”

“We might even make it better. Just lead the way, farmer.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Previous: High Quality Crystal

#KindsArt #auraverse #the future’s foundation #limestone pie #mountain peak #story piece #next generation #my little pony #mlp fim #mlp g4

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faelune-home · 1 year

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FFXIVWrite 2023 #9: Fair

(A/n: Kind of a mix of character interaction exploring and a bit of backstory diving with Thancred and Alisaie here. I like the thought of Thancred maybe getting some chance to spend time with baby kids in their youth, but ultimately it's probably not something that did/could happen given the circumstances. :'D All the more reason to think on it I suppose, as readers and for the characters.

I think they could pair well in terms of personality, she can match him in his jesting and keep up with him without letting him win out too much, meanwhile he'd probably hold back with her anyway, stop himself from saying anything too overt. Inspiration came from the idea of him being a bad influence on them as kids, even if I didn't get to write that and only hinted at the end aha

Takes place on the ship ride to Sharlayan in early EndW, so that entire boat ride has plenty of downtime opportunities.

Word count: 670)

“I’m well aware that I won’t be able to remember it–” Thancred paused in his frantic bag sifting, looking up at Alisaie leaning against the hull’s pillar, a curious look upon her face.

“But did you ever spend time around our estate when we were young? Looking after us?” she asked.

“Why, did you think I’d give you a knife to play with?” he asked back, smirking. She rolled her eyes.

“Father would probably have murdered you before you even considered the idea, nevermind if you had one out in front of us at all,” she scoffed.

“Then that’ll be your answer. Your father didn’t approve of me and insisted I had no place in the family,” he shrugged, more matter of fact about it than upset. Alisaie couldn’t help but frown though.

“I can’t say I’m surprised, but tis a shame to hear. Aside from some over-amorous behaviour you’ve mostly grown out of, you’re a decent man,” she said, a small smile growing when she noticed the mock-offended look he gained at her comment.

“Over-amorous? Mostly?” he mumbled, loud enough for her to hear his “outrage”, causing her to giggle. Adding in an affected head shake for good measure, he stood straight and leaned against the wall beside her.

“That aside, you needn’t be too upset at your father on my behalf. I didn’t get to go to your lovely abode much since Louisoix set me up with an old acquaintance of his that specialised in subterfuge, so I spent more of my time in training. Kept me busy before and after you two were born, so it was that and your father’s disapproval that kept me away. Besides, if he needed a babysitter, Urianger was always on hand as you well know.” She still looked uncertain at his explanation.

“I suppose that’s true. Still doesn’t seem wholly fair though…”

“Yes, yes, unfortunately that is the way of the world. Oh woe is me to be cast out on the streets and forbidden access to your lovely presence, at an age when you knew naught but how to scream and cry,” Thancred exaggerated, earning himself another scoff and a shove.

“Keep that up and maybe I won’t regret that we never had you around,” Alisaie pouted, though even then a small smile snuck its way back to her lips.

“But you’d probably still miss me,” he said, with a sly wink.

“Miss your charming self? Perhaps, perhaps not, I’m not so easily swayed by sweet talk,” Alisaie matched him, smirking at his playful remark. He tutted.

“Pity.” Their little corner of the ship fell into quieter conversation, people watching the other passengers while avoiding the talk of their future plans. Better those were kept for the whole group, as spread out as everyone else was on the ship, still in the early stages of their voyage.

Later into the trip, as night began to fall and they’d settled back down onto the floor, getting ready for sleep, did he speak up again on the matter, an older memory come to mind.

“If you wouldn’t mind to hear it?” The way Alisaie sat up straighter answered the question for him.

“Though I did say I never got to spend time with your family, or you and your brother as young ones, there was one instance. Courtesy of your very open minded mother needing some assistance one day. Just an extra hand to mind you both.” He suddenly looked very sheepish.

“She is a very forgiving woman, I’ll say, given what happened that day. Yes, I’m especially thankful that she’s never made mention of it to your father…”

“Oh?” Curiosity peaked again, Alisaie’s eyes lit up at the thought of whatever faux pas he could’ve made.

“Let it be said that as a boy,” he said, mouth already curling in an uneasy grimace, “perhaps my vocabulary was still on the rather crude side, regardless of the company I kept…and well, babes are wont to emulate those around them as they learn…”

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #alisaie leveilleur #thancred waters #fufu's writing #endwalker #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv

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its-anime-zing · 5 months

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So...

We recently finished Monster (2004)...

(I know series has run its course, but SPOILERS below. For just in case) 😁

What do we do with that ending? Brain is shook.

Is Johan just out there running around in a backless hospital gown still doing crazy Johan things?!

Lowkey, boyfriend and I made a prediction in jest that Dr. Tenma would end up saving him again, but that Johan would probably be left bonkers and bedridden/confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his days.

And WHAT ARE THEIR NAMES??!! That is the true crime here!!

As I'm writing this, am realizing some further research probably should of been done prior... but at the same time, it's kinda fun to record the initial reaction. 😆 Also...

This scene. Why did they have to make this murderous psychopath look so... soft?! And vulnerable?! *Slaps self* NO! Bad emotions! Don't get attached!

Peace~ ✌️😁

#monster 2004 #monster anime #my posts #post #posts #text post #gif #gifs #that's another tick on the 'ol watchlist #good show! Enjoyed it!#too much death though 😭#seriously Johan leave sad elderly couples alone #protect Dr. Tenma at all costs #we wish the best for all the survivers #Eva is a bitch but hope she finds happiness #Roberto never died. You ain't slick bro we're onto you 👀#he's just resting his eyes and will soon wake up and go about his mayhem #Anna/Nina is so into Tenma no I won't accept arguments (jk)😝

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absolutelynotsanebaby · 2 years

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Fic Recs! DC:

Fandoms: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited, Young Justice, The Flash (Comics) (note: this section is combined with Halbarry fics), Miscellaneous

Key:

Character/Character = Romantic Relationship

character & Character = Platonic Relationship

MCD = major character death

GDOV = graphic depiction of violence

Fics under cut

Young Justice:

“In Case of Emergency” by Deranged Black Kitten - Fanfic.net, one-shot (though its really long), Roy Harper & Dick Grayson & Wally West, teen and up audiences.

It had started as a joke, contingency plans made for various hypothetical circumstances, but then the world falls under mind-control, their mentors turning against them, and those rules made up in jest become something to survive by.

“A Flashlight to See in the Dark” by Kazyre - Ao3, 21/? chapters, unfinished, Hal Jordan / Barry Allen.

When Iris dies suddenly, leaving Barry to raise their three-year-old nephew by himself, Hal Jordan steps up to help out his best friend. Years pass, friendship grows into something much more, and somehow the three of them become a family. Story will span Wally's life from age three all the way to the formation of the Team - will be mostly humor and fluff.

Justice League & Justice League Unlimited:

“Remembering normal” by SmallInsect - Fanfic.net, one-shot, Wally West & John Stewart, Teen And Up Audiences.

“Batman’s satellite cameras had clocked the Flash at an average of four point five six seconds per cycle. Four point five six seconds. To circumnavigate the entire globe. John can see why everyone freaked.” [Oneshot, spoilers for “Divided We Fall”].

“Conspiracies” by SmallInsect - Fanfic.net, one-shot, Wally West & Don Hall, Wally West & Vic Sage, general audience.

There’s a new rule in the League that The Question and Flash aren’t allowed to be alone together on the same mission. Post "Divided We Fall". Oneshot. Flash, Question, Dove.

“Mask” by SmallInsect - Fanfic.net, one-shot, Shayera Hol, general audience.

Her real name is Shayera Hol. That much is true, at least

“Keeping Your Appointments” by incense-whiskers - Fanfic.net, one-shot, Bruce Wayne & Wally West, MCD (non-graphic and doesn’t happen within the story), general audience.

bruce wayne is known for his impeccable sense of timing. death, however, runs by his own clock/on anniversaries

“Pretzels, trust and evil twins” by incense-whiskers - Fanfic.net, one-shot, Bruce Wayne & Wally west, drabble, general audience.

flash is impulsive and lively, it's his nature. it's not something batman holds against him, rather, it is something he tries to protect./drabble, relationship study via Crisis on Two Earths.

“Homework” by onlyanorthernsong - Fanfic.net, one-shot, Wally West & John Stewart, Wally West & Bruce Wayne, general audience.

Wally has homework due tomorrow. He, Gl, and Bats are on monitoring duty. Oneshot.

“Angle Of Death” by xffan-2000 - Fanfic.net, one-shot, Shayera & The League, general audiences.

A drabble series. It's an unspoken truth that Shayera is the resident killer in the League...

“Atomic Time” by Constance Eilonwy - Fanfic.net, one shot, Wally West & Bruce Wayne, Wally West & The League, general audiences.

Bruce is only thinking of the good of the team. Really.

“A Hero’s Heart” by Everhere - Fanfic.net, one-shot, Wally West & Shayera Hol, CW: Alzheimer Disease, general audiences.

Years in the future, Wally has contracted Alzheimer's Disease, and the only person he still remembers is Shayera.

“These Small Hours (Still Remain)” by CluelessKitten - Ao3, two chapters, completed, J’onn J’onzz & Wally West, Diana Prince & Wally West, general audiences.

"Do I want to know?" Diana asked.

And Superman, who could hear more clearly than the rest of them, shook his head. "Nope."

Behind her, J'onn said, probably to Flash, "I do not understand why we had to do this in front of a burning warehouse."

“Sharing Food is a Human Friendship Ritual” by those_painted_wings - Ao3, one-shot, J’onn J’onzz & Wally West, general audiences.

After the events of the Justice League animated episode Warworld, Flash notices J’onn being even more reserved than usual.

“Snapshot Collection” by Belphegor - Ao3, 8/12 chapters, on-going, Linda Park / Wally West, The League, general audiences.

Snapshot: 1. A photograph, especially one taken quickly or in a sudden moment of opportunity. 2. A glimpse of something; a portrayal of something at a moment in time.

08 - When Batman hears that a member of Flash’s “Rogue Gallery” was killed, he shows up in Central to check on the kid.

“Walking on the Moon” by Belphegor - Ao3, one-shot, James Jesse & Wally West, CW: mental health issues, teen and up audiences.

The Trickster was sitting on the top of a building, thinking of trying out his air-walker shoes for the first time. And then the Flash stopped by for a chat.

(reposting from FFnet)

“Wife” by Belphegor - Ao3, one-shot, The Rogues & Wally West, Wally West & Snart’s Wife, general audiences.

Sure, being the wife of a supervillain was supposed to have perks, but having his colleagues show up on your doorstep with grim faces and bad news was not one of them. When the Flash - of all people - did, it was a nasty surprise. DCAU Rogues.

(reposting from FFnet)

“Territorial” by KingWatney - Ao3, one-shot, The Rogues, general audiences.

When Flash is away, the Rogues step up to defend Central City. Because we can't have a bunch of outsiders wrecking the shopping mall, can we?

“You Ain’t Nothing But Gone” by Thistlerose - Ao3, one-shot, Shayera Hol / John Stewart, John Stewart & Wally West, general audiences.

Set during Part 2 of "Starcrossed." Wally tries to reach out to Green Lantern.

“Practice” by Tomboy13 - fanfic.net, nine chapters, completed, Wally West & Kara Danvers & Don Hall, teen and up audiences.

First JLU fic. A mistake puts Flash's life on the line. Now the others must make things right, before Cadmus gets a hold of him. NEW CHAPTER UP!

“Onions and Cakes” by Alba Aulbath - fanfic.net, five chapters, completed, Wally West & Vic Sage, Wally West & J’onn j’onzz, teen and up audiences.

When the League grew in size after the Thanagar invasion, the Flash took a temporary leave. Which might prove to be a mistake if the Question has anything to say about it.

“Gut Feeling” by Super Chocolate Bear - Fanfic.net, ten chapters, completed, Wally West & Carter Hall, Wally West & Shayera Hol, Wally West & John Stewart, Wally West & Bruce Wayne, Shayera Hol / John Stewart, Teen and up audiences.

Dark events start unfolding in Central City, and Flash is the prime suspect. Just how far will blind faith and friendship go?

“Ouch” by Onlyanorthernsong - fanfic.net, four chapters, completed, Wally West & The League, Wally West & Lex Luthor, Wally West & Shayera Hol, Wally Wst & John Stewart, Wally West & Bruce Wayne, Shayera Hol / John Stewart, general audiences.

He gave a sharp, uneasy sigh. "I don't know who I am, but apparently, I hang out covered in blood in tight spaces with a mask on. What kind of a freak am I, seriously!"

“Perceptions of non gods” by SmallInsect - fanfic.net, JLU cast, MCD, GDOV (?), Justice Lords Universe, general audiences.

A year after the death of President Luthor, revolution rises against the Justice Lords. [A oneshot of many ficlets. Set in the Lords Universe. Spoilers for A Better World.]

The Flash (comics) / Halbarry:

“Radio Free Keystone” by Liviapenn - Ao3, one-shot, Hartely Rathaway & Barry Allen, Hartley Rathaway / Earl Povich, MCD, teen and up audiences.

When Superman died, it happened on Main Street in Metropolis, live and in color, from five different angles, on five hundred different channels. There was nothing like that for the Flash. He just... disappeared.

“Rewind, Press Play” by TheObsidianSun12 - Ao3, four chapters, completed, Barry Allen & Hal Jordan, Barry Allen & Jay Garrick, Barry Allen & The League, teen and up audiences.

The Justice League. Protectors of Earth, they have beat back invasion after invasion without fail. Even the mighty Darkseid, Lord of Apokolips, fell to them on their first attempt. How, you may ask? Well, all it takes is one speedster to turn back the clock and transform a devastating loss into a victory. But while the rest of the League isn’t aware of their world-ending defeats, the Flash remembers each and every one in vivid detail. He may be the fastest man alive, but there are some things even he can’t outrun.

“with shortness of breath (you explained the infinite)” by LostOnMyRoad - Ao3, 1/2 chapters, unfinished (on-going?), Barry Allen & The Justice League, Barry Allen & Leonard Snart, general audiences.

“Daydreaming, Flash?” someone asks. He turns to see Superman watching him intently. The man may be built like a Greek God, but he’s got an inside like marshmallows. He smiles, shaking his head. “Just thinking,” he grins. The shadow of the Speed-Force wavers in the corner of his vision. “Think we could convince Bats to get us an official Justice League minivan?”

Superman sighs. “I suppose you’re calling shotgun?”

Barry grins.

Or,

Barry struggles to come to terms with the fact that he’s going to effectively disappear while simultaneously trying not to let anyone know about said disappearance.

(It starts, like it often does, with the dreams.

Fire and heat, over and over again every night until Barry starts taking a bottle of sleeping pills before going to bed, in the hopes of staving off the visions for a few seconds, maybe a minute, when he’s sleeping.

The Speedforce has always been rather volatile, but never like this.)

“Acrophobia” by Orphan_Account - Ao3, one-shot, Barry Allen / Hal Jordan, Teen and up audiences.

Barry becomes a blue lantern, and Hal is thrilled at the fact that they can fly together. But Barry's been avoiding doing just that, and Hal wants to know why.

“fooled around and fell in love” by finalfrontierpioneer - Ao3, one-shot, Barry Allen / Hal Jordan, Teen and up audiences.

The first time is an accident. The other times after that? Not at all accidental.

Or: Hal starts calling Barry pet names and finds that he doesn't actually want to stop.

Or: Instead of revealing Barry's civilian identity to Batman and Superman, Hal calls him "babe." And then proceeds to call him a lot of other things.

“I died a sinner, you died a saint (a look from you and i would fall from grace)” by DynamicDuo (XylB) - Ao3, one-shot, Barry Allen / Halbarry, teen and up audiences.

Will-they-won't-they-should-they-shouldn't-they, could-they-would-they-will-they, the five times Hal and Barry almost and the one time they did.

It goes like this: Hal can't stop looking in broken mirrors, and Barry can't stop with the what-ifs, and together they can overcome death but somehow intimacy draws them up short.

(5+1 fic!)

“Yellow Butterflies” by ChocolateTeapots - ao3, one-shot, Barry Allen / Hal Jordan, Hal Jordan & Thaal Sinestro, teen and up audiences.

Much as Hal doesn’t want to admit it, Sinestro’s right. Barry does represent Hal’s fears, though not in the way Sinestro means.

From his smile, Sinestro’s unconcerned with the distinction.

“I Second That Emotion” by CapedCommissioner (smittenbritain) - Ao3, one-shot, Barry Allen / Hal Jordan, teen and up audiences.

Hal’s report is simple. The Guardians tried to make some upgrades to the Central Power Battery, and they went awry. All Green Lanterns are, currently, at the mercy of their emotions - ones that are, in fact, amplified by that fuck-up with the Power Battery, and perfectly visible through the rings.

Barry decides to keep him company while he's under lockdown, and Hal's ring decides to force his heart onto his sleeve.

“Five Times Hal Complains and One He Shuts The Hell Up” - ChocolateTeapots - ao3, 9 chapters, completed, Hal Jordan / Barry Allen, Hal Jordan & Oliver Queen, Hal Jordan & Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan & Dinah Lance, Dinah Lance / Oliver Queen, teen and up audiences.

The world’s ridiculous, and Hal’s going to tell Barry all about it. Oh, and hopefully they'll get together at some point.

It’s not like Hal really has a plan, but that's never stopped him before. Let the whining and dining commence!

Miscellaneous:

“Split” by Wolfsbanesparks - Ao3, 43/50 chapters, on-going, Billy Batson & Captain Marvel, Billy Batson & The League, Billy Batson & Damian Wayne & Jon Kent, Captain Marvel & The League, teen and up audiences.

After a fight with Black Adam goes horribly wrong, Billy Batson and Captain Marvel are forced to navigate the world as two beings instead of one. But such a separation comes at a cost and they must race against the clock to fix what's happened to them before it's too late.

Unfortunately the Justice League is all too eager to help their trusted colleague and his 'son'.

“Small Favors” by susiecarter - Ao3, one-shot, Bruce Wayne / Clark Kent, teen and up audiences.

Bruce doesn't exactly intend to start doing nice things for Clark. But once he has, he can't stop—and maybe Clark doesn't want him to try.

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