#i feel like the two of them meeting up in the afterlife and spending time in greenery is very possible

[tumbly-s]

Stargazing

[check out my pinned post if you’d like to commission me for a similar piece!]

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel Characters:

~First I love you~

Warnings‼️: use of pet names, a dash of angst for Adam and Lucifer (I’m sorry), swearing, GN!Reader, Lucifer doesn’t really say it but it’s still cute I think.

A/N:Okay I’m VERY into fluffy scenarios with these characters rn- MY HEART- thank you guys for all the love towards these and I hope you enjoy! This is sorta rushed because I’m TIRED and working on TOO MANY THINGS.;-;

~not proofread~

Vox:

I’ve mentioned this in previous headcannons with Vox, but dating someone was most definitely not part of his plan.

He views himself as this big bad overlord who would never go soft for anyone.

Dude thinks he’s too good for anybody, even Vel and Val sometimes. He’s very proud of his work and what he does and doesn’t like anyone getting in the way of that.

You’re only a slight exception.

Who he would literally do anything for

He tries to keep your guys’ relationship very much under wraps. He understands how dangerous of a person he is to be around.

Sharing your relationship to the public would basically be an open invitation for anyone who has beef with Vox,

Including a pesky radio demon

To target you.

So while he denies your guys’ relationship to anyone and everyone, it’s understood between the two of you what you guys truly have.

However, Velvette and Val are able to see right through Vox’s bullshit when he starts getting feelings for you. They see how he reacts to your messages, your affections, and your presence.

They know Vox has a soft spot for you, but since they like their heads attached to their bodies, they keep their mouths shut.

As his feelings for you grow, it became more and more obvious to anyone with common sense what was going on.

The man literally relaxes at the mention of you.

Unbeknownst to Vox, literally EVERYONE knows about your guys’ ‘secret’ relationship.

Vox doesn’t realize how easy he is to read. He’s an impulsive liar, and a good one at that, but his actions very much contradict the lies he spits.

He could literally be screaming at one of his employees for who knows what, and if you walk into the room, his eyes soften and his attention is on you.

He’s straightening out his posture, trying to look as if he wasn’t about to murder one of his employees.

(He would deal with them later)

Despite how obvious his and your feelings are towards one another, Vox still doesn’t make anything public, letting fans and overlords alike to speculate.

It was a poorly kept secret but one the two of you mutually agreed to keep.

You are in Hell afterall. Saying you were the TV faced overlords significant other was like sticking a paper on your back that says ‘Kick me’

Vox does his best to balance his life with you and his work life. Work was all he ever knew, so when you entered his afterlife, scheduling became a huge issue.

He would love to spend every moment by your side but he’s work too hard. His empire is too important to him.

So while the two of you didn’t go out too frequently on dates or outings,

(But trust me when you do, it is luxurious. He makes the limited time you spend together worth it.)

Vox was always making a way to communicate with you.

Whether that be via phone call or through text messages, he’s always making sure to make an effort to spend time with you. Even if it was just hearing your voice and seeing your words through a screen.

On your off days, he keeps you on an ongoing call in his TV room at all times. Unless you have something planned of course, then it’s back to the texting.

He would be in and out of his screen room frequently between meetings and whatever other things he had to do. The little lair of his was where he spent a lot of his time catching up on paperwork, checking up on the latest releases, and working through the insane amount of work emails he received.

All while talking to you. Whether it was ranting about his day or yours, or if it was talking about what your guys’ next date would be or even just enjoying each other's silent, distant, company.

That brought you to now; listening to your significant other rant about his overlord associates who had sprung a last minute meeting on him.

You listen to him shuffling around his office, grumbling as he put on his suit jacket.

He rambled on grumpily while you listened with an amused smile. He swore under his breath as he looked at his watch.

"Alright doll, I'll be back in about an hour."

"Boooo."

"I know, but once this bullshit is over, I just have paperwork so I'll be all yours, I’ll talk to you later."

"Alright, see you in a bit, I love you.”

“Mhm, Love you too.”

Vox hurries out of his media room without a second thought, zapping into a nearby security camera and appearing into the meeting room in a bolt of electricity.

He begrudgingly sat in his chair slumping into himself and mentally preparing for the chaos his coworkers were about to create.

As Velvette and Val went at each other throats, his mind drifted to the thought of you.

God, he would give anything to just be next to you instead on enduring this Hell within Hell.

He zoned out, thinking about how you were sitting on call in his office, waiting for his return. You were so loyal to him.

He thought about you, your company and your voice, the way you sounded when you said you loved him.

Realization hits him like a freight train, his screen glitching out a bit and his fans kicking into high gear as he replays the conversation the two of you had before his abrupt departure.

He kind of stays in stunned silence for a moment, in complete utter shock. Was he dreaming?? He said it back so casually! Too casually!

He whips out his phone, shooting you a quick text:

~“You said you loved me??????”

It takes a few seconds for you to respond, but it feels far too long for Vox.

~“Yeah? You said it back”

~“I didn’t realize I did.”

~“Oh. Did you not mean to?”

~“No!”

~“Fuck that came out wrong. Hold on.”

Vox went into panic mode, his screen glitching in and out. Velvette and Valentinos arguing becoming muted background noise.

He tried his best not to blue screen or shut down completely, taking a deep breath to regain composure before he texted you back.

~“I do. I love you too.”

And boy are you glad Vox can’t see your right now because you are sure he would be soaking in your embarrassment with that prideful grin on his face.

You knew you said it first and honestly it felt natural coming out.

But knowing Vox felt the same, hearing him saying it, or well, seeing him say it.

Seeing that he got over his own pride to just say it by himself meant a lot to you.

It made your chest feel warm with joy, your stomach fluttered with imaginary butterflies, and your face burned red from those words that somehow meant more coming from him.

But of course you couldn’t let him know how giddy he truly made you.

Please don’t boost his ego more-

So instead you respond with;

~“That’s pretty corny, flat screen.”

Your reaction to his admission completely catches Vox off guard. He finds himself smirking to himself, somehow feeling better with you not taking him too seriously.

He couldn’t even hear his coworkers screaming at him, wanting his input on the subject they were arguing about.

He just chuckles to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket. Giving fake hums and nods of acknowledgment. Replaying those three little words in his head over and over and over.

Adam:

Holy shit, this man is too up his own ass to realize how bad he’s got it for you.

Don’t get me wrong, the man’s stuck up. He’s selfish. But whatever you ask?

Yeah you’ve got it or it’s at least getting done by the end of the day.

He’s got it bad.

He usually denies your request at first. He’s ’above such things’.

But whatever request it may be, whether it be him stopping to get food or requesting a late night cuddle session. He’s a sucker for you.

And everyone knows it but he will deny it to no end. No way is he soft for you. Nu-uh.

Because of his status and massive ego, it stops him from acting how he wants to around you for a long time.

Like, he’d love to hold your hand, be with you 24/7 in the streets of heaven.

But deep down he’s super self conscious about getting into a relationship. Man lost not one, but TWO wives that’s were MADE for him.

You’re good at getting him to show his true colors though. Straightening him out when he’s pushed too far.

He definitely made a big show about asking you out as well. Mostly to make himself less nervous about doing it.

According to him ‘it’s an honor he’s even asking you’

Which lead to you giving him a death glare and ignoring his ask the rest of the day until he asked you genuinely.

(He then surprised you at the end of the day with chocolates, a romantic dinner, and a huge blanket fort, where you guys cuddled and watched movies until 2 am. Where he asks you again to be his partner properly this time, not letting his ego get the better of him.)

But that aside, you’re one of the few people who can see through Adam’s egotistical exterior.

I hc that he’s a big softie. So oh boy, when you utter these three little words to him, they gain so much more meaning.

I mean we already know the man loves praise. Hearing it from you is a whole different level of euphoria.

It was the morning of an extermination, and while you weren’t meant to know, Adam couldn’t keep anything from you. You ended up finding out about his yearly activities in killing sinners.

The two of you didn’t speak of it often. It’s not like Adam was supposed to speak on the matter anyways.

But when you heard about the exterminations now coming twice a year?

You couldn’t help but feel nervous for your significant other. Sure Adam was strong, but who knew what the hell spawn were capable of?

Adam had finished getting dressed, walking out of his room with his mask in hand.

He seemed like a giddy child, muttering excitedly how he ready he was. It was a way to get the adrenaline flowing and get him hyped for the big day.

Despite how gruesome it was, he did love his job and the praise he received for it.

You’re laying on the couch watching Adam, hearing only your heartbeat in your ears. You watch Adam put on his mask, looking towards you and giving a small wave.

“Alright babe! I’ll see ya later. Hey, you should order from that one kick ass pizza place tonight! Celebration dinner after I wipe out those fuckin’ hellspawn!”

You’re quick to blink out of your panicked daze, swinging your legs over the cushions and nearly tripping over yourself as you go over to him before he can get out the door.

You let out a breath, brushing off nonexistent dust off his pristine war outfit.

“Just.. don’t be stupid. Alright? Don’t go biting off more than you can chew.”

“Uhh. Babe. You do realize who you’re dating right?? I’m fucking Adam! The original-.”

“Original dick, first man, yes yes I know.”

He looked at you through his mask, his grin faltering at the edges when he saw your eyes drowning in worry that you hid behind a nervous smile.

You avoid his gaze, continuing to try and find things in his outfit to straighten out before he can leave.

If you’re lucky, you’ll find something bad enough causing him to have to stay home.

Where it was safe with you.

Adam puts a hand over your own, stopping you from brushing imaginary fuzz off the front of his shirt.

You meet his gaze, and despite his mask being on, you see a genuine soft smile. One of adoration and reassurance.

One that made you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in.

You press a quick kiss against his mask where a projection of his lips were.

He always hated when you did that. You depriving him of your real soft lips against his own.

Just ask him to take the mask off, he would do it if it meant he could kiss you.

Before he can complain, you gently squeeze his hand, letting out a whispered voice. Almost sounding too nervous- no, too scared- to speak.

“I love you.. please be careful..”

You go to let go of his hand so he can be on his merry way. But he’s quick to process your words.

He tightens his grip on your hand, pulling you in closer to him. A look of shock is evident on his face.

He squeezes your hand, pulling you against his chest. He moves his face, almost uncomfortably close, with his mask causing forced distance between you.

“Say that again.”

Now you were a little confused.

What did you even say again?

Did Adam suddenly get cold feet with the whole extermination?

He kept your body in a sort of pose that looked like you were going to start dancing.

His one hand in your own, holding tightly while his other arm wrapped around your torso, hand pressed against the small of your back to keep you close.

Your body pressed against his, it seemed he only wanted you closer, keeping a firm arm wrapped around your torso while you waited for you to repeat your words.

You look up at Adam, repeating your own words in your head. The realization of what you said and, what he wanted to hear again from you, made your face flush from light shades of pink to dark hues of red.

Adam has a smug grin on his face, keeping his tight grip on you. Refusing to let you go until you give him what he wants.

You see the look on his face and roll your eyes a bit while smiling. In a sudden rush of confidence, you kiss his mask again, wiping that smug smirk off his face.

“I love you.. be careful.”

You repeat, once again before Adam can complain about your teased kisses.

Part of Adam is glad you can’t see his face, which was burning red from your actions and words. You speaking sweetness enough to make him melt in your arms.

Those three little words that seemed so cliche before you uttered them.

He lets go of your hand so he can lift his mask off over his head. As soon as it’s off, he’s leaning in to kiss you. Just before his lips reach yours, whispering back a small:

“I love you too, babe.”

And just like that, he’s kissing you in the most soft and genuine way Adam can be. How he always was with you.

You didn’t know that would be the first and last time you would get to utter those words to your partner.

You didn’t know Adam wouldn’t be returning back to heaven after his expedition.

You didn’t know you’d only be able to hold his empty halo, whispering the lost words you never got to say to him.

Adam never planned to leave you alone questioning your faith.

You didn’t know, but at least Adam knew you loved him before it was too late.

Lucifer:

Another big sap despite his title.

Of ya know. The devil.

He met you a few months after Lillith left. So you saw him at rock bottom.

You met him at rock bottom. Wallowing in sorrows and self pity, waiting for his wife to return.

You never did pry at the king, one because he was your superior, and two because he was never in the right mind space to listen to you.

You offered an ear when he needed, an occasional shoulder to lean on when Lucifer had downed too many bottles.

You made sure the king stayed fed and physically stable. Forcing him out of bed on bad days.

(Well i wouldn’t say forcing. You’d sit beside him, rubbing his back while he lets gentle tears fall down his face. Whispering reassuring words and asking what he wants to eat so he would get up and get his desired meal you serve)

(It’s more of convincing and encouraging)

Lucifer had spent his eternity with Lillith. Having been with someone so long, he couldn’t imagine his life without her.

He was angry. He was grief stricken. He was confused. He was sad.

Her departure tore him and the family they had made apart.

You made him feel normal again. Like he wasn’t a failure of a king, husband, and father. You made him feel okay about himself.

Slowly over the years, Lucifer was recovering. It was painfully slow, but you had patience. These things took time overall.

He would never truly be over his wife’s leaving, not really knowing the reason why she had gone, only blaming himself for it.

A part of his heart was torn out that day, but you worked to fill it with new hope.

Lucifer is completely blind to your doing for awhile. I mean he spent a couple years disassociated from everything.

You provided everything for him and he barely knew anything about you. What was your intent in the first place?

He did ask you this once, why you were helping him. Why you did what you did.

Your reason was simple but struck a chord with Lucifer.

You said he deserved to be loved.

Loved.

He had half the mind to burst out in tears right then and there

After that admission, Lucifer set a goal to become a sort of equal to you. To provide for you as you had for him.

The newfound determination to basically serve you got the king of hell up and moving again.

What the two of you had felt so domestic. Cooking and cleaning together, tending to the garden Lucifer had made with Lillith. He couldn’t bare to step foot in it after she left.

But when he saw you out there in the garden covered in dirt and mud, yanking pesky weeds from the ground.

He couldn’t help but go out there. He didn’t even know you had been tending to it.

Most life had died in the garden with Lucifer’s marriage. Painful and sad

It became a midday chore for you while Lucifer grieved indoors. You caught eye of the gardens beauty one day and thought to spruce it up a bit.

When Lucifer was on his feet again, he joined you in this chore. Trimming away dead branches, pulling weeds, picking fruit that had ripened enough.

While he could just use his angelic power to grow these things, nurturing the plants from the start and watching them thrive and bloom was something he enjoyed ever since creation started.

It was something so special to him. So pure and a reminder of home.

The two of you grew closer with this shared chore, it didn’t quite feel like a chore anymore. As it was something the two of you looked forward to now.

Lucifer could feel himself falling. It was what he was prone to doing. But he couldn’t bring himself to be that vulnerable again.

Everytime he had fallen it left him bruised and lost. And if he lost you, he didn’t know if anyone would come pick him up again.

He could only get so lucky so many times.

He was currently looking at an open space near the center of the extensive garden. Where several paths met up in the middle of the garden. Where large trees formed a sort of dome shape protecting anything beneath them.

Lucifer hummed to himself, sleeves pulled up to his elbows. He tapped his chin thoughtfully, spreading the dirt on his fingertips to his face.

He glanced at how much space there was in the center of the garden. He always thought the center was bland. Sure you could lay down and look up towards Hell’s blood skies, but after centuries of seeing nothing but red above him, the sight got boring.

Besides, his creativity was bubbling in him. Begging for something new.

With a point of his finger, golden hues shot out, a large fountain forming in the middle of the gardens. It wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the trees above, but it did challenge them.

The white cement water fountain had edges to sit comfortably, three tiers, with little ducks on the middle layer spitting out water into the pool below.

Gold accents decorated each layer of the fountain. The pool to hold the water having a ruby red color, making the water appear like blood when it sat at the bottom.

Lucifer walked around the fountain, looking over every detail of his work. Making sure it was pristine and perfect.

He enjoyed it for the smallest moment, leaning his hands against the base of the fountain, leaning in to look at his reflection.

He then grew frustrated, not able to enjoy his own creation. It wasn’t good enough, not if it was made from his hands.

He growled, slapping his hand through the water, causing it to splash out. He gripped the edge of the fountain, gritting his teeth.

“Goodness..”

Your voice made him quite frankly jump into the air, falling onto his butt. His head snapped in your directions.

Your eyes were blown wide while you stared at Lucifer’s newest creation. Hands gripping a basket of freshly picked produce from the garden.

The king sits up, stuttering over himself as you move closer to get a better look at the fountain.

“You made this?”

You ask quietly, gently running your fingertips against the designs of the sides of the fountain, feeling the smooth detailing.

“Yeah I know.. it’s uh.. it’s-..”

“It’s beautiful.”

Lucifer visibly tenses at your words, looking up at you with eyes wide in shock.

He was dumbfounded, he looked like a child sitting on the ground just staring at you like this.

You look down at him, seeing his eyes wide and his jaw practically hanging on the floor. You can’t help but chuckle, deciding to take a seat next to him.

You set the basket between the two of you. Picking up a peach from the basket.

“The produce is growing lovely this year.”

You compliment the gardens hard work. Lucifer blinks out of his daydream, looking at the basket between the two of you.

His heart swells with joy. A sense of accomplishment that his creation, something he made, you thought it was beautiful.

His eyes trail to you. The light peering through the branches above you casting perfect rays on your skin.

Your company felt like home. It felt warm and comforting.

And in this light, in the garden, you looked just like…

“I love y-..”

Lucifer starts to speak before his mind can stop him. When you meet his gaze, his voice catches in his throat.

His face flushes golden colors when he caught himself almost daring to say that to you.

He lets out a comedic laugh, awkward and loud.

“..youuurrr COMPANY! Hah! Wow what a nice day! Gee golly, can’t imagine it any other way haha!”

You stare at him for a moment. Of course you were use to Lucifer’s occasional awkwardness behavior, but often times you had to read between the lines to understand what he truly meant/wanted to say.

You kind of got at what he was trying to say, your heart starting to beat fast in your chest at the thought of it.

But it wasn’t the right time. You knew Lucifer wasn’t ready.

You offer her a small smile, handing the fruit to Lucifer. You reach a hand up to wipe the dirt off his chin.

“I love it too. Any day with you.”

Lucifer’s face flushed gold once again, shoulders relaxing. He instinctively leaned into your touch, looking up at the fountain.

Patience. So patient with him.

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC PROMPT #25

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Just me building off of other ideas.

✦

Family Reunion

Clockwork sends an adult Danny, newly appointed Ancient of Space, on a mission through time again. Except this time, it isn't located on Earth, but a distant planet he's never even heard of before. Clockwork didn't tell him any specifics on what he was supposed to do or when he was supposed to return to his own time, just to blend in and have an experience. He would know when it was time to return.

Needless to say, he has a blast! His core is bursting with happiness at getting the chance to explore this unknown corner of the universe with a sky full of constellations he's never seen and fascinating locals. Considering he might be here a while, he buckles down and learns all about their culture and their traditions and even eventually learns their language without having to use the two-way translator Clockwork gave him.

He spends decades there, not even having to worry about how he never appears to age, the people here being incredibly long-lived. However, he eventually meets someone. Someone he falls head over heels for. He gets married. He has kids. He watches them slowly grow into adults as well. It isn't until one of his sons informs him that he's expecting his own child(1) that Danny feels a tug at his core.

He ignores it, but over the course of a few weeks, it's gone from the occasional pull to a full-on yank at his entire being, along with a sense of dread that something was going to happen to this wonderful little planet. To his family.

He becomes restless and loses so much sleep, it's a miracle he can even stand. His family are worried for him, but he assures them that he's just feeling a little under the weather. One night, he's sat up in bed, unable to sleep again. His gaze is fixed lovingly on his spouse, but nonetheless sad.

He doesn't miss when all the soft sounds of the night stop and a green glow appears behind him.

"It's time to leave, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"There isn't any way I could stay? I can't bring them with me?"

"I'm afraid not. There are some things that can't be changed or stopped, even when they fall into your domain. I'm sorry."

"Why send me here just to make me abandon them like this? What was the point?"

Clockwork is silent, but when Danny turns to look at the ghost, he's gone.

Danny takes a few more precious days to spend time with his family. Kiss his spouse. Hug his kids. Feel the strong kicks of his grandchild he won't be there to witness the birth of.

The night he leaves, he places a letter on his spouse's nightstand, gently kisses their forehead, and disappears in a flash of green, never to be seen again.

Years later is when Danny gets the news. That the planet Krypton is no more and that his family is gone. He searched the Ghost Zone for them, but he never knew the location of Krypton in the cosmos. Their afterlife is beyond his reach, in a place that isn't even on the Infamap.

He nearly drowns himself in grief when he finds a sliver of reprieve in the form of a news broadcast. An extraordinary man in blue and red with the kryptonian symbol for such emblazoned on his chest is shown fighting off multiple enemies at once. He is the spitting image of his father and Danny as well.

He had a grandson. His grandson was alive.

✦

(1) This was Kara, not Clark. Danny left before he even found out about Kal-El being in the oven, so there will be a misunderstanding at first. Then Kara pops up later, and Danny just bawls his eyes out that he had two surviving grandchildren without even knowing it this whole time. How he first meets either of them is up to you!

(*) What this means power-wise for Clark is yours to decide. As well as what Clark already knows about his grandfather from the stored information his father left him. What his father thought of Danny disappearing without a word is also up for you to decide.

[callsign-rogueone]

one for the books - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x Scribe!Reader part of my Valentine’s Day Celly (better late than never?) words: 1.7k (got a little carried away here, oops) 🏷: IRON FLAME SPOILERS. scribe reader who is referred to as a woman one time, and has painted nails, but no pronouns used. just some meet-cute fluff with reader and Gare. love at first sight. it's weird writing him with anyone other than Angel, but I hope y'all will still like it anyway 🥺

Garrick wanders through the rows of bookshelves in search of someone who actually knows what they’re doing, so he won’t have to spend the entire day looking at the titles of every book in this massive library.

It doesn’t take long for him to find the only scribe who’d come with them to Aretia: Violet’s friend, Jesinia, who had helped them sneak into the Archives to get the journals. Who happens to be Deaf. He hadn’t thought about that part. 

He waves a hello, racking his brain for the letters of the alphabet and spelling out his request at a snail’s pace, hoping he’s moving his hands correctly. I… n-e-e-d…

Jesinia takes pity on him, holding up a hand to stop him and darting back into the maze of shelves, leaving him standing there thoroughly embarrassed -- he really needs to add “study sign” to his list of things to do after this whole wyvern thing is resolved and Tyrrendor is freed again. Whenever that will be.

He’s expecting her to come back with a pen and paper, so he can write it down, but she emerges thirty seconds later with another scribe in tow, one he’s never met before -- the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

Jesinia gestures to you with a soft smile, and leaves.

He blinks once, twice, taking you in.

You’ve taken some creative liberties with the uniform, wearing the beige scribes’ robes open with a plain shirt and pants underneath, the hood down to expose your face and hair, a pair of glasses perched atop your head and a clipboard in hand, your nails long and painted a pale pink -- a few of them have started to chip, but it’s endearing; comforting to find a tiny flaw in an otherwise perfect presence.

You’re equally entranced. The fortress is crawling with riders -- you’re one of maybe five students here who are anything else --  but this one in particular makes your heart race. 

It’s as if the gods pulled a knight from the pages of one of your fantasy novels and dropped him in front of you in this library; broad and tall, muscled and tattooed, two longswords strapped across his back… he’d be intimidating without the nervous smile on his face and the blush dusting his cheeks, the afternoon light coming through the windows and making him glow.

“How can I help you, Lieutenant?” you ask after a moment, hoping you don’t sound as flustered as you feel.

The scar running down the side of his face moves as he speaks -- more quietly than you’d been expecting. “Riorson sent me; he wants everything you have about wards.”

You blow out a nervous breath. “Okay, uh… I’m still not totally sure how this library is organized, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“We can look together, then,” he offers, giving you a knee-weakening smile.

You don’t know if you can spend the rest of your afternoon with this man and not make a complete fool of yourself, but you’ll just have to try your best. “Sounds like a plan.”

You realize you don’t know each other’s names, having been too busy staring at each other to make proper introductions.

“Garrick,” he offers, extending a hand to shake.

You’re really supposed to refer to him as Lieutenant, since he’s graduated and you haven’t, but you still repeat the word softly, trying it out. “Nice to meet you, Garrick.”

He already owes Xaden Riorson his life, but hearing you say his name, feeling the softness of your hand against his… he decides he’ll be in the boy’s debt well into the afterlife, too.

“I’ll start on one end, you on the other, and meet in the middle?” you ask. “Anything with wards, magic, or protection in the title would be a good start.”

He hums in acknowledgement, heading down to the end of the row.

“I haven’t been in here in ages,” he admits, scanning the rows of shelves for anything that could be useful. “I lived most of my life here before the revolution,” he adds quickly, explaining.

Small talk is good. You can do small talk.

“It must have been interesting growing up in a fortress like this,” you respond, too shy to ask him for his likely incredibly-tragic life story outright, and you’re technically on the job right now, so you should be focusing on the task at hand.

He picks another volume off the top shelf, keeping his feet flat on the ground and barely having to stretch for it. “It was. There were a few dozen of us kids around, always underfoot and meddling. We used to play hide and seek in here, and see how long we could stay before the scribes found us and kicked us out.”

You laugh, a sound he doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing. You may be a librarian, but you’re the polar opposite of the typical strict and stiff scribes he’s used to -- young and lovely and not afraid to laugh and talk among the books, to let them hear your voice and know that they’re appreciated. They’re lucky to have someone like you watching over them.

Since you’re grasping at straws here, you decide to cast a broad net and pull down anything that could be even a little bit helpful -- and you’re finding more than you’d thought, likely because the Tyrrish basically invented wards. 

You really should have brought a cart, but it’s no issue for him -- he’s holding at least ten thick volumes at once with complete ease.

“I got it,” he offers, shifting the tall stack he’s amassed into one arm and taking yours with the other. Seeing a man like him with an armful of books is hotter than it should be. Everything about him is hotter than it should be.

He sets the stack on the nearest table, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of a chair before he sits down.

Your eyes linger on the relic winding around his arm like a plume of black smoke, contrasting against the pale muscle. You know it was intended as way to mark them as the descendants of those who had committed treason, to set them apart from their peers and to force them to enroll in the rider’s quadrant, but he looks like he didn’t have too much trouble in his days at Basgiath, if the two dozen patches on his flight jacket are any metric.

It suits him. He’d look incomplete without the relic and the thick scar on the side of his face. It would be rude to ask how he got it, but the curiosity still tugs at you. You want to know everything about him.

You realize you’re staring, and pull your eyes away as quickly as you can manage, worried that he’ll think you’re judging him -- though you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t on his side.

You each take a book off the top and crack it open, scanning for anything that could help. “Did he say anything more specific? Or why he needs this?”

“Nope. But he’s always been vague and mysterious, even when we were kids, before he had all those shadows following him around.”

“I’ve only seen him twice, but that sounds accurate.”

It’s his turn to laugh. “He may be all cold and broody all the time, but he’s a good guy. I’ve always considered him my best friend.”

You’re thinking of the best way to keep him talking when Jesinia knocks on the side of a nearby shelf to get your attention. Done with my transcribing. What’s next?

Thank you. You can leave for the day. 

Jesinia gives you a sly smile. You don’t want help? Or do you just want to be alone with him because you think he’s handsome?

She’d told you that Garrick’s sign was rusty, that he could only fingerspell, but you still turn away from him as you respond, praying he didn’t understand what she just said. 

Two can play at this game. I’ve been meaning to ask, how is that redhead boy who keeps coming by to talk to you? I’m sure he’d like to see you for another sign lesson tonight.

She reddens, realizing you know about her crush on the rider, and bails out of the conversation while she still can. Goodnight!

There’s that lovely laugh again as you turn back to him, seeing him watching you -- now you really hope he didn’t understand. He quickly returns his gaze to the book in front of him, which definitely isn’t modern Navarrian or any of the other languages you know. It must be Tyrrish.

“You can read this?” you ask with rapt curiosity, leaning forward to take a better look at it.

“About every fifth word or so,” he answers. “There aren’t many fluent speakers left, since it was outlawed decades ago and kids aren’t taught it in school. I don’t see the symbol for “wards” anywhere, but that might be too obvious.”

“No language should ever be outlawed,” you respond, perhaps a little too hotly. “There must be so much valuable information that was lost in translation or destroyed entirely after the wars. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to become a scribe, to try to save as much as I could. But so many of the texts in the Archives have been translated over and over, and I can’t help but wonder if some things were left out on purpose.”

Another smile. “Well-said. Into the “maybe” pile, then?”

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment as you realize how long you’d been talking. “That’s the only pile we have,” you sigh, stretching. 

He’d shown up around four, and it’s nearing seven now, your body automatically responding to the hour and telling you to pack things up, but that’s one of the nicest things about the library here -- unlike the Archives at Basgiath, you can work here through the night, and not be booted out at seven on the dot.

You’d asked the Lieutenant Colonel about it when he’d come by one day, and he’d told you there wasn’t any sort of magical time-sealing-lock on the library, just a normal wooden door charmed to be fireproof -- so you’d stayed in one of the armchairs until midnight reading, just because you could.

“Well,” he offers, “I know it’s a grave sin to eat in the library, so how about we take a break, get ourselves some dinner, and pick this back up after?”

Smooth. Very smooth.

“I’d like that,” you answer, your heart fluttering. “I’d like that a lot.”

[mrs-snape5984]

“I'll meet you on a day that never ends. I'll greet you in a way that heaven meant…”

“I hope you don't break my heart of stone. I don't wanna scream out loud and wake up on my own…” (“Idler’s Dream” by Oasis)

Considering, that I don’t see any way out of the misery, which my life has become since this cruel and inexorable disease ME/CFS has robbed me from being myself, I’ve started to commission some of my beloved artists of Snapedom with a special project of mine. I explained to them, that I’m slowly fading away from my life as well as from other people’s lives. It started two years ago, when this sickness got me into her relentless grip, forcing me to let go of the life, I’ve known before. Losing more and more of my abilities and strengths with each passing day, I’m finding myself in an unstoppable spiral of torments.

Nowadays, I’m not capable of leaving my room and most of the times even my bed anymore. Day in, day out I’m surrounded by darkness, silence and solitude. Participating in social activities, in milestones of my children or even in longer conversations with friends isn’t possible for me anymore. My presence has lost its meaning and purpose.

Whereas my phone didn’t stand still in the beginning of my disease, when friends and colleagues were worried about me…it’s getting more silent now. People are starting to forget about me…and yes, I can absolutely understand them. It must be frustrating to send messages or attempt to call me without getting a proper reply. My former boss told me some weeks ago, that people are feeling speechless about my situation, so it’s easier for them to forget about me…letting me become a faint memory in the back of their heads. This is exactly, what I meant, when I said, that I’m fading away…and it’s okay. I can’t be mad about it. I understand.

It’s also happening here on tumblr…and yet, here are still some kind people, who seem to notice my silence. I was astonished to hear, that my friend @capysnapeart, whom I commissioned for this beautiful artwork of Severus and my highly self-inserted OC Jules, searched me in a sweet post on their blog, after not hearing from me for several days. I was even more dumbfounded, when I realised, that other lovely people of Snapedom had also noticed my absence from my online life. This was very unexpected, but - indeed - touching and heartwarming to me. Thank you for not forgetting about me.

The project, which I’ve commissioned @capysnapeart and some other artists for, should show the different stages of the life, I’m expecting to have after my final breath, which doesn’t seem to be so far away anymore. I’ve set myself a limit…a certain point of no return, at which I won’t be able to accept and endure my pain and my suffering anymore. Well…let’s just leave it like that.

In my imagination, I will be able to choose, how my afterlife will look like. I will be with Severus, the character, I’ve been clinging on for the past 21 years, already. I imagine, that we will meet at the age of 11 years and from then on, we will spend the rest of our lives together...growing old together. It may sound strange and pathetic, but this is all, that I'm wishing for. I want to come home to him...

I asked Capy to draw Severus and Jules as a middle-aged couple…sitting on a bench in front of their little cottage at the sea. I’d love to see them being happy together…finally living the life, they’ve always wanted to live…the life, they’ve deserved to have! They’re cuddling on this wooden bench…feeling like home in themselves.

Capy, my dear friend, I’m beyond grateful for your understanding of my wish for this mesmerising artwork. You’ve managed to capture the peace and the silence of this scenery so perfectly, that it made me shed countless tears of longing. A longing for this fantasy to become true one day, when I will let go of my existence, eventually. Thank you for your talent, your kindness and your acceptance of my ideas. Feel hugged! 🫂🥹

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

[gray--abyss]

I wanted to figure out a likely timeline of Dan/Phantom/Whatever-his-name-is's spiral into evil, for writing him and stuff.

CONTENT WARNING: Discussion of suicide and themes of suicide starts below cut.

1. nasty patty incident

2. danny is grieving, but hopes for at least his parents to come back- after all, they had unfinished research, an obsession and thirst for knowledge. his justifications for how Sam, Tucker, and his sister would come back are flimsy, and he knows it. He can't stand the pitying looks from his former tormenters. His aunt, Alicia- not a gentle woman, but doing her best- comes out from the country to supervise him.

3. End of month 1: the funeral. Danny starts to grow more outwardly volatile, instead of directing his despair inward. He exchanges contact information with Vlad, and the two enter an uneasy truce as they enter closer contact.

4. After 6 months, he tries to tell Alicia about the half ghost thing, and she doesn't take it badly- but she admits that she doesn't know how to help with that. Danny isn't sure what he's been expecting, but it's not what he wants. He can't stand to be in Amity Park anymore, and asks Vlad and Alicia if he can move in with him. they both agree, and he moves in with Vlad.

5. month 7: Danny is miserable at this new school, in this new, empty house. He feels like a ghost here more than he ever has before. the fear and hatred he harbors towards Vlad has only amplified with the closer proximity, and the mans security measures certainly don't help. His hatred for himself grows, being too weak to save his family, too weak to tough things out in Amity while waiting for his family.

Content warnings apply below. I promise it's not All doom and gloom, but given it's Phantom... there's a lot of it.

6. Month 8: Danny decides that if his family doesn't come back, he will commit a kind of suicide, removing his ghost half, then his ghost half removing and dispatching Vlad's ghost half. He decides that 2 against 1 will be the best method, and that's where the idea of fusing with Vlad's ghost half comes in. After all, if either of them can kill their combined ghost, that'll be safer for everyone. One last "heroic" act. He just has to trick Vlad.

7. Month 10: Danny gives up, and executes on the plan. He's sick of wasting time being sad. Phantom doesn't want to die, and successfully kills Danny, and fails to kill Vlad. He doesn't realize Vlad didn't die in that explosion.

8. After the rush of revenge, Phantom feels really weird about it. It was only fair, Danny was going to kill him, but he realizes he didn't think through what it'd be like living as part Vlad. But hey- he doesn't have to juggle school, politics, or feigning humanity anymore. He can go keep an eye on his home now, and figure out how to spend his afterlife! He gets in contact with Alicia, letting her know a less... scary version of his suicide, and that he's going to be hanging around in Amity Park again. (... He still hasn't really given up on someone coming back.)

9. When he finally gets back to FentonWorks, he's furious to find his former schoolmates partying in his house, and nearly attacks them, but calms down just enough to only yell at them. He doesn't care about keeping things secret anymore, and lets the secret slip. He doesn't miss how their treatment of Phantom changes. He can almost accept this not-as-pitiful respect.

10. For the next 3 months (at 1 year 1 month post incident), he tries to protect Amity Park. He causes more property damage than before. He notes and tries to ignore his increased aggression, but after he actually injures Valerie, the only person left that he "trusts", he panics, and drops her off at the hospital. Enough is enough, and at a town hall meeting that he doesn't attend, they decide to bring in the feds to deal with the local phantom.

11. Upon FentonWorks being raided, he's furious. He's been protecting these people, and for what? This isn't fair! Phantom kills a few of the GIW, before making a declaration to the whole of town with a souped up megaphone he stole from the GIW: If they don't want his help, then he'll be what they think he is- just an another evil Phantom.

12. In the next 2 months, he causes mass chaos, but fails to cause much damage to GIW and the government. He's just one ghost, after all. He retreats into the ghost zone, and convinces Skulker to take him on as an apprentice. He does have fun hunting and fighting ghosts, after all, and it can help him hone and perfect techniques.

13. for the next 3 1/2 years (4 years 9 months post incident), Phantom almost entirely lives in the ghost zone, only traveling to the world of the living for special occasions. He's figured out how he wants to look by year 2 post incident- basically an idealized version of how he would've wanted to look as an adult. He sets out on his list of revenge, targeting ghosts and enemies that he feels have personally wronged him.

14. To graduate from his apprenticeship, he and Skulker have a hunt-off. Obviously, Phantom wins, and graduates. The hunt lasts 3 months. (5 years post incident)

15. This isn't to say Phantom had no social afterlife... with ghosts he was previously allied or friends with, he tried to keep those relationships. Wulf isn't about what he's up to, and distances himself to an acquaintance. Phantom parties with Dorathea, allies himself with Fright Knight, actually befriends Klemper for when he just needs a chill hangout, convinces Poindexter to help him in researching ghost stuff, and helps Bones babysit Youngblood, just for examples of relationships he has with canon ghosts. He's a combination of two very social and dramatic ghosts, so he's honestly kind of goofy when he's not being actively menacing.

16. He does not acknowledge the not-being-able-to-be-seen-by-adults thing that Youngblood has going on, deciding that he must be an adult at this point, and the fact that he can see Youngblood is a Fully Ghost thing. Youngblood thinks it's a bit he's doing and plays along- it is Not a fully Ghost Thing

17. He does some trial runs on attacking security companies and billionaires in the month before the next Incident Anniversary.

18. On the 5 year anniversary of the Nasty Patty Incident, Phantom launches a successful attack on the GIW, destroying their facilities. He begins razing USA government agencies and offices, because genuinely, they have been such a pain for him. He doesn't attack postal offices or bus systems. When other countries allied with the USA try to attack Phantom, he starts targeting them as well.

19. Something that... basically everyone but Phantom himself notices, is that the only average-people civilians he targets are people in Amity Park.

20. At year 6, the USA as we know it is gone- people still live there, the only places actually uninhabitable being former military bases, and a 50 mile radius around Amity Park. Phantom starts making a concerted, focused effort to attack Amity Park, starting an arms race between him and Valerie.

21. It's unnerving for Valerie to see how little he's changed, even with a shiny new coat of evil paint and an adult-ish appearance. She can't help but think it looks an awful lot like a superhero that Danny used to like.

22. At year 9, he decides that he's done all he's wanted, and that Valerie will be strong enough to kill him- so he plans one last fight with her- either he'll win, and be uncontested in strength... Or he'll lose, setting the balances of justice right once again. He's excited to see how strong she's gotten. ... Despite all he says, he hopes she'll win, and he'll get a "happy" ending, even if it isn't his.

[saphirered]

Caged Birds Don't Sing

And here's the third and final part of this request! You can find part two here. I hope you have all enjoyed this little angsty piece as much as I have. Happy reading my darlings! 😘

You walk among the gore and decay, stepping over those who have left this world and the horrors that tore them away. You hear the wails be they cries of pain, of grief or relieve. You’re covered in grime, head to toe. The silk and gossamer had been exchanged for steel and leather but the burden is equally heavy. You just wander. No purpose. No direction. You hear the faintest echo pierce through your hazy mind. The world is numb. You are numb and waiting for it all to come crashing down, for the realisation to hit you viciously. You’re free. You’re free of her, free of it all. You were a fool to think it’d magically all be better. All those sacrifices you made, they were a blood price for this. The goal was reached but the price steep. You find your gaze connecting to the eyes of one who paid the price for your silence. The White Wolf of Doranelle steps up to you. You can see his lips moving. He speaks your name but his words are a distant echo. He grabs onto your arm and gently shakes you. 

Fenrys saw you walking among the corpses and chaos. You looked like an angel of death among them; reaping the souls of the fallen and walking them to the afterlife. Once upon a time he might have jested you looked horrible, that the battlefield did not suit you and you should return to your life of finery, that blood tarnishes even the prettiest diamonds. You might have clapped back but he knows now you won’t. You’re too far out of it. You don’t even respond when he calls your name. He realises why when he shakes you, when he sees that hand you had clasped over your abdomen move, and sees that blood and gore is not your enemy’s. You’re ashen, and have lost your radiance. You could never be plain but this must have been the closest you’d ever got to it. He’s all too aware how you straighten your back, you don’t even feel the pain anymore but still make it a point to appear presentable, as if you’re ready to meet your end.

“Have you come to finish the job yourself?” There’s an airiness to your voice. You’re ready. You know what’s coming. It’s all lead to this. “It’s okay, Fenrys. I’m ready to face the consequences of my actions.” Conflict crosses his features so you reassure him. You find it with yourself to take his hand and guide it to his sword. He doesn’t shake you off nor stop you. Still he looks conflicted. 

“I used to dream of this moment,” He starts holding onto that sword but then he takes your hand instead, placing it over your abdomen and keeps pressure on it. “But I was wrong. I know what you did. I know why. It wasn’t worth it. You did what you could to be selfless, to protect and preserve. You did it at the expense of so many others.” Fenrys thinks for a second while you take in his words. He continues no less. 

“How is it any different than any of this? Why do you deserve to die when we’ve done just the same? When I’ve done just the same in those years of service. It doesn’t make it right but I know I’ll be spending the rest of my days making things right. You are clever and quick witted. You see through lies and deception, and are a master of persuasion. You are stubborn and thickheaded and annoying but most of all you can be a complete and utter bitch. We need that. We need you.” 

“For now I would like to see the stars.” One last time… You don’t say it but something in your heart knows this to be true. The sun is close to set. You don’t even know how long you’d been wandering the fields. It might have been eternity. You knew it would end here on the battlefield. You knew this life of yours would come to an end with Fenrys standing there in front of you. That was your curse wasn’t it? You knew how it would end for Maeve but you never gave her the opportunity to get rid of those who would lead to her downfall prematurely. You had no intention of changing this moment of yours either. It’s best to not mess with the way things are supposed to be. You learned that lesson the hard way. 

Fenrys sees the solemn distance in your eyes. He cannot begin to imagine what runs through your head, not even now he knows the gravity of your life, of the burden you’ve carried ever since you met him. He doesn’t envy you. He simply nods and throws your arm over his shoulder and lifts you as if you were no more than a rag doll. If you wish to see the stars then you will witness them away from death and ruin. With what energy he replenished he takes you to the beautiful hills of some forgotten place. As the last light of the sun sets over the horizon and the grasses rustle in the wind he sets you down. He debates if he should sit down next to you but then he feels the gentle tuck on his sleeve. You stare up at him with bright and peaceful eyes and he finds himself lowering next to you. How is it in the aftermath of it all you have become the embodiment of peace among the chaos? How is he feels that pleasant relief and release now he is near you? 

Together you sit until the silver speckles fill the night’s sky. The air grows cooler, and the wind dances ever so lightly; the only sound of the rustling blades of grass banishing the echoes of haunted clashing steel. You feel warm and comfy and cozy so you slowly lay down and gaze up. An easy smile graces your features, even when you see Fenrys at your side. If someone had told you you’d be here right now in this very moment, you’d have called them fool. Yet here you are. Here he is and he stares at you with something you can’t quite place. There’s pity, regret but that’s as far as you can uncover. 

“It was easy to hate you for all she did to us. We couldn’t do anything about Maeve, loyal or not but you… I see now it wasn’t right- I don’t know- I think what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry it had come to this.” Fenrys stumbles over his words. For that smooth talking and quick-witted fae he is known to be he half expected you to give him shit for it. He’s surprised you don’t. You just smile up at the stars. 

“I’m sorry too. For everything. I wish I could have done better.” There are so many words you want to speak but don’t have the energy for to voice them nor does it seem to be the moment to bring up that horrible past now the healing can finally begin. 

He watches as you struggle to breathe a little. He adjusts, lifts your head and sits behind you so you may lean against him. Throughout his weeks of torture, you’d been the one to clean up the mess. You’d been the one to nurture his wounds and held him while he slept. He’d refused your help at first solely for the fact he hated you, or told himself he did. He meant what he said; it was easy to hate you, to blame you and tell himself you were the villain in the story. You patched him up. You’d given his brother a final resting place when no one else dared to. You’d lied to Maeve’s face about it too. You’d risked it all for him. How could he hate you now knowing what he knows? You’ve been so strong but so broken for so long. You deserve your peace. You deserve the one thing you asked for. He’ll keep you company just as you kept him. That’s what he tried to tell himself at least. 

Hatred can turn from many things. Fenrys is not ashamed to say he’d miss you if you’d become another casualty of this grand scheme of Maeve’s. You asked to see the stars for a reason, thinking it’d be the last thing you’d see. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t try. Your odds might not be looking good but he knows you’re stubborn. He brushes some tangles from your hair with his fingers. 

“Then do better. I dare you to do better, you stubborn little bitch.” He speaks with a laugh. You tilt your head backwards more to look at him and manage to raise an eyebrow, sniffling a snort.

“What?” You’re confused but something within you sparks beneath the surface of your skin. You’d never been one to back down from a challenge set by a furry bastard. A part of your mind asks the right questions; why should you stop now?

“You heard me.” He guides you into a sitting position and pats your cheek. “Think you can’t do it? You lost your game, sunshine.” 

“Fenrys, now is not-“ He places a hand over your mouth and your next words are muffled. You try to remove it but can’t get a grasp.

“No no. I expect a grand apology for all the years of slander of my esteemed character. Besides, if I’m going to do this ambassador thing, I need you to write me a good reference. It’s the least you could do.” He lowers his hand just in time for you to snort.

“Ambassador? You? You don’t even know the first thing about basic etiquette, let alone foreign etiquettes. You’ll start a war within the week.” There’s that spark again. There’s that life in your eyes, that chaos among the calm that he’s hated facing only to be reminded it was the only consistent thing, the thing he took joy in over all these years. It was easy to hate you and blame you but it was never truly satisfying. Fenrys had found great satisfaction in challenging you, teasing you because despite everything, you made a worthy opponent who would meet his challenge. You were a sparring partner in a fight none of his friends could match. 

“What you gonna do about it? Stop me? I’d like to see you try.” He crosses his arms and raises his chin in defiance. Your lips part and you scoff shaking your head. “You can spend the rest if your life looking at the stars right here or you can tell me exactly how I fucked up the precious table settings and ate with the wrong cutlery. Hell, you can even judge me for all the princess I’ll sleep with and haunt me for being banished from nations. Someone needs to know what they’re doing and I sure as hell don’t.” He’s not wrong. He doesn’t know what he’s doing and you do. When he looks forward on his own, all he sees is shortcomings and the need to learn. he could be taught and would be of course. And he’s not completely incompetent but when he looks at you, if he had you with him, he feels safe and confident. 

“Only an idiot would leave you unsupervised.” You’re not wrong and you can see the horrible scenarios play in your mind of Fenrys running half naked out of a country or greatly offending a court for not knowing their customs. He’d be a mess. You know no amount of tutors could put up with his bullshit or have the dog pay attention for more than five minutes. 

“Well then, hello there idiot. You’re my supervisor. Now let’s get you to a healer and a bath because frankly you reek of death.” You feel your heart beat in your ears, feel the rush of blood when he reaches out his hand and offers it to you. He needs you. And in a way you need him. You need Fenrys to remind you what it feels to be alive because that’s what he’s done. He’s taken many hurtful blows to your armour in the past but when you were at a loss, you knew him to be consistent, you knew what to expect and when it mattered most, you had each other despite it all, despite the hatred you had for each other. It won’t be an easy road but then again nothing about Fenrys is easy except maybe his tendency to share his bed with others. You sigh and close your eyes. You nod as you place your hand in his. 

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” 

“Eternally.”

“You better make it worth my time.” The look he gives you when you speak those words; the one that is filled with the most indecent thoughts, tells you enough. 

“You’re the only person who’s ever shared my bed and I haven’t fucked. We can change that.” He teases. Old habits die hard but he’ll never go out of his way to let you know you’re his type. Previously it would be followed by a comment of how your horrible attitude or the moment you’d open your mouth would be an instant mood kill. There’s no follow up comment. 

“I’d like to see you try.” You couldn’t resist the urge to make that comment, to set that challenge and while your initial thought is you’d regret this, everything else screams you won’t. You just won’t make it easy on him. Fenrys laces his fingers with yours, gently pulling your entwined hands towards him and therefore urging you forward. Cocky bastard. 

“How about a kiss first? I’m told it leaves the many wanting for so much more. You up for the challenge?” You don’t answer but instead close the distance and so his lips meet yours. He’s damned. He’s down the rabbit hole and falling forever more. He’s breathless. Few people managed to get him so and he’d be damned if he’d let you win that easily. He’ll still take great pleasure in this moment but when your lips finally part, he has the both of you falling through the worlds and reappear in the healer’s ward. 

“I hate you.” You groan.

“And you can hate me even more after you’re all patched up.” 

[randombush3]

The Best Part

summary: here’s a fic based on her song ‘the best part’.

words: 863

warnings: this is about death so do with that what you will.

notes: i don’t know why i haven’t posted, and i don’t really have any excuse to give you. i’m working on things, just slowly. really fucking slowly. but flo released music and i couldn’t help myself. lots of love!

There is no specific memory of you linked to today. No story in particular that she can recall, that she can tell someone about so they can vividly experience it with her, make her feel less alone. In fact, this is the case with most days — times she cannot shake you off for it is simply your existence that she misses; the comforting thought that you are alive. It makes what she knows, what she seems to constantly be reminded of, worse.

She has tried. For the past three years, the past one-thousand one-hundred and twelve days, she has tried to forget slightly. You don’t seem to leave her alone — typical. You sit beside her on trains, whispering in her ear. You mock her when she rehearses her scenes in the living room alone, running her lines for her, telling her how you would have said it. There are times when she can feel your lips against her neck, your fingers brushing hers.

No, she can’t shake you off at all. Neither can she tell whether it hurts or it helps. Your presence is her imagination, but if she convinces herself, she kids that nothing ever happened. You are alive, you are just away. Somewhere unreachable; a desert island with no mobile phone, off on one of your silly expeditions that you claim deepen your understanding of the world around you.

Tonight, she dares to sprawl out on the bed. It feels juvenile, like how she would have slept before meeting you. Before she had to put up with your insistence of sharing a bed equally (‘this me:you ratio will not fly, Mrs Pugh’). Is this what acceptance is? Allowing herself to break one of your rules because you are not there to enforce them?

It doesn’t seem to make a difference, anyway. All the things you said sleep in her head with her. You wake up at the same time now — of course that only happens when you are dead.

Maybe this is the curse she has. Yours was obviously the fact that you died. Her misfortune is to be the one still standing, only this time with no one beside her. Her life is the one that is resigned to waiting until she can see you again, the one that forces her to believe in an afterlife just in case it gives her one more chance to… Who is she kidding? Her therapist says if she thinks her life is just about prolonging her death, then she should reevaluate. Flo did think to make the point that that is exactly what she is there for, but the woman charges by the hour and she would rather spend the money on an additional series of another random TV show you may have liked to watch.

Everything just hurts.

She is fucked. She would not recommend falling in love, because the person you build a life with can just fuck right off the face of the Earth at any given moment. She regrets ever feeling a love like the two of you had shared.

Your pillow smells nothing like you. She is three years too late to have her face buried in it. Tonight, you are not beside her, not keeping her company, not even in her imagination. The bed is full, but with only one person. She fears she has gotten rid of your memory by stretching out, and, horrified, retracts her limbs. Rolling over onto her side, she feels your arm around her waist. Your nose presses against her head, you breathe her in.

She would give anything to have you do that one last time. To know that it was the final goodbye, to be able to rehearse it, would surely make her feel better. Something like closure.

As she drifts off, she parts her lips, tongue running along them, wetting them. A force of habit, three words prod at her to be spoken. But she won’t say it if you don’t say it. If you were beside her one last time, she would beg you not to say it. If you were here now, a ghostly apparition, she would cover your mouth with her hand because if you said ‘I love you still’, she would fall to pieces and never get up again.

Seven days later. You have now been dead one-thousand one-hundred and nineteen days. She has revisited this idea of seeing you one last time. She wonders what she would say. Thank you for the best parts? Maybe she would apologise for her weak heart. You would find this hilarious, how miserable she has become. You would provoke her, taunt her, and she would get defensive, say something like ‘my love just hurts when loving’. You would relish in the scowl she would give when you laughed in her face. You are — were — the worst.

You are — were — her life.

You were the best part.

She opens her mouth as she closes her eyes. She is determined to get used to filling the bed. She is going to compromise.

“Fuck you for dying, Y/n,” she whispers into the darkness. “You know I love you still.”

tags: @pewpughpew @ridleypugh @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @xsophiesx @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz @karsonromanoff

[aria-ashryver]

I adore Ollie!! Seeing as aer personality is rather different from Grey’s, what do you imagine them like together?

Eeee thank you! Ae’s a sweetie 🥰 I’m playing with f!Grey — I think she’s is going to have a time with Ollie lol. I’m only 2 chaps in but Grey has firmly cemented herself in “mischievous little shit” territory. I think her way of feeling people out is by trying to push their buttons (as often and irritatingly as possible), which is hilarious to me that she’s now trying that with Ollie, who just… has none lol.

(I’m very much choosing to ignore every canon scene where MC gets irritated with her bs lol)

Grey’s out there trying to be cheeky and annoying, cracking jokes and trying to irritate them, and Ollie is just “yes, I understand this whole “being a ghost” must be very overwhelming for you, I’m here for you 100% of the way”.

To which, Grey is like… oh shit. My usual schtick isn’t working, bc Ollie keeps gently skirting past my charming defenses and now I’m making a genuine connection with this person oh god oh fuck abort

After they spend a bit of time together (and Grey is captivated by Ollie’s cringefail demeanour and complete lack of rizz) Grey starts getting genuinely worried for aer.

Like… Grey’s the deceased one?? Out of the two of them?

"Yes, okay, entirely understandable that I was murdered, my haters wish they were me, etc, etc, but this walking ball of anxiety is the kind of person who would attempt to free a feral wolverine from a beartrap with their own two hands because they couldn’t stand seeing it in pain, with no thought to their own safety, and how are they not dead yet? How have they not fallen headfirst down a open manhole because they were so intent on helping a little old lady cross the street? And oh god I’m going to have to stick around and take care of them, aren’t I? Aw crap."

I think at first Grey will be a little put out that Ollie never rises to her bait when she’s trying to wind them up. But then once Grey has aer figured out a little more, she’ll have this moment of “aha! I know how to tease you!”— there was a textpost I saw a while back (I can’t find it 😭) which said something like

“I was trying to throw away an old backpack when my boyfriend put on this sad little voice and said “Oooh, am I going on a trip? Will I be back soon?” so now I have to keep it.”

And like… that’s them haha.

Grey’s out there doing shit like haunting a pair of Ollie’s old boots and making them do a goofy lil dance to make them laugh. Trying to convince them they keep meeting a bunch of dead ghost celebrities and do they want to hear some juicy afterlife gossip, etc.

It takes them a minute, but once they figure out how to play with each other, they are golden. And I think Grey appreciates the fact of being truly seen for once, too (once she gets over how truly terrifying it is to make a genuine connection with another person yk yk)

Thank you for the ask my love! 🌻

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

What do you think of Soulmate AU with the Grimm Reapers where every person is born with a symbol/tattoo that changes color according to your soulmate mood and will start glowing once you meet them. When your soulmate d*es, the tattoo loses color and turns grey. Now imagine your tattoo is already grey from the moment you're born (since Reapers commited s******) meaning your soulmate d*ed before you were even born! Everyone feels sorry for you but you accepted the fact. But one day, your tattoo unexpectedly starts to glow!

aaaaaaaa it makes me cry, is what I think!! so obviously I had to write it XD

and you don't have to put asterisks like that with the words, tbh; while I do tag triggers when I can, replacing letters like that makes it more difficult for blacklist to catch it. I've had my own issues with it, as well as reading others' thoughts.

for example, typing out "suicide" will cause blacklist to catch it, so that any post with the full word "suicide" will be blocked if someone has "suicide" blacklisted. if you type "s******" or "su*cide" or any combination of asterisks replacing letters, blacklist will not catch it, and people who actually have "suicide" blacklisted might see the post since it won't be blocked. if you want to make sure that people who have a word blacklisted won't see a post like this, don't replace letters with asterisks, just type the whole word and blacklist will catch it!

ok PSA over, now onto, THE REAPERS MY LOVES-

He’s… a little sad for you, that you lived so much of your life thinking you’d be alone forever. Even though he knows people are born alone and die alone, they shouldn’t live alone. He always knew he’d have someone, based on his own tattoo, but you must have been so worried. As soon as the two of you meet, he apologizes for what he’s done to himself, because it led to you suffering and wondering and feeling like something wasn’t right. However, now the two of you have found each other; even if his afterlife ends up being cut short by his illness, he intends to spend the rest of it getting to know you. And… hopefully you’re happy getting to know him.

As much as he regrets what led you to him, he’s grateful he found you. At some points, he would stare at his own tattoo and will it to turn grey, simply so he could know you would stop being tortured by the thought that he was dead. (And stop eating at him with guilt, knowing that he’d doomed you before you were even aware of him.) You didn’t let the so-called impossibility stop you, and… he found you, at last. It’s… okay, that it’s him you ended up with? You’re not disappointed? Well. At least now the two of you can be together without any cares. Now that he has you, he promises, he’ll do anything for you.

Goodness, it’s about time you showed up! They’ve been waiting for you, you know? Of course… they know they haven’t done themself any favors. Unfortunately. By killing themself before they could meet their soulmate, they’ve effectively made you think you’re never going to find them. They’ve been watching their own tattoo daily, excited by your feelings of passion when it turns red and wanting to rip apart whatever made you sad when it turns blue. And here you are, at long last! They’re ever so delighted that you didn’t give up looking for them. You held out hope for them, and now they get to be with you. It’s like a fairytale, and now they get to live with you, happily~ ever~ after~

That’s just his luck, isn’t it… that he’s fated to have died before his intended ever existed. He’s angry at himself that he took his life away, but he can’t help thinking — would he have had someone else if he didn’t? If he stayed alive, would he simply have no soulmate at all, because there would be no way to be with you if he hadn’t died? It makes his head spin and he loves it, some unknowable questions to ponder over. He’s overjoyed that he finally gets to have you, though, so as long as the two of you are together, he doesn’t fret over what might have happened. As long as he isn’t a letdown to you, he’s glad that things eventually ended up where they did. You’re the best puzzle of his life, and even if he never figures you out… he loves the adventure of trying.

God, he was starting to think he’d never get to be with you. And here come to find, you thought you were fated to be alone from the start? He’s gone through so many people trying to see who it was who was his. Countless one-night stands, endless breakups when it became clear he wasn’t compatible… there’s never any way to know for sure. He’s been lonely, searching for you. There’s a little guilt that you had to live for so long feeling lonely too… though, now that you’re together, he’s prepared to thoroughly enjoy being with you. He’ll show you the best of this life that he has to offer, if you’ll let him!

Damn, did you really wait all this time for him? Instead of just going off and trying to find someone else? He held out for you because he knew you were alive, but if he thought his soulmate was dead… he would probably give up on the idea entirely. A person only gets one, right? He’s disappointed in himself that he made you wait, that you almost certainly felt isolated and pitied and a million other things. It’s bullshit, and he’s the one who put you through it by killing himself. Then again, it may not have worked out this way if he hadn’t, so… it’s complicated. If nothing else, he’s thankful he’s met you at last; he thoroughly teases that now he has even more of a reason to want to be done with work.

You must have known they would find you soon enough! You never gave up hope, ja? Here they are with you now! It’s not something that they really like thinking about in general; the fact that they took their own life. It’s worse that doing so led to you thinking you were destined to be alone forever, so it’s something they have to confront particularly after first meeting you. They’re… sad that what they did led to you suffering. They never wanted to hurt anyone but themself. Even then, it’s… ugh. It’s a lot. They’re just so happy that you’ve found them now, that finally they have their beloved! You must have been so lonely, so they plan to make up for lost time. They also take all the photographs of you, wanting to have as many as they can. They’re so excited to start building a life with someone!

This is… it’s real, at last? After waiting for so long, the two of you have finally found each other? He was starting to think it would never happen, that even though his own tattoo proves otherwise, he was doomed to be alone. So many people he’s seen die, so many he’s lost, and none of them have been the one. The very first one he lost drove him to kill himself out of grief, and… it’s infuriating, that this was the thing that would lead him to meet you. He’s waited so long for you, and you’ve been in so much pain just like him, because you thought for most of your life that he was dead and would stay dead. But… he’s here now, love. He’s here. You’ll never be alone or doubt his love again.

It’s not any great surprise, is it, that what he did begets ever more punishment? It’s just a tragedy to him, that his actions led to you being punished. You’re the one who’s been hurt and has thought that the person you were meant to be with was someone you’d never meet. He’s not happy with himself, that you’ve been through so much and it’s his fault. All he can do now that he’s together with you is try to make sure the rest of your life is better than what came before. Even though he works a lot, surrounded by reminders of death, he’s with you as much as he possibly can be. Any time that isn’t taken by his job is yours. While he may not be overly emotional… there’s no denying that he loves you, that he’s glad to have you, and that he’ll do anything to make sure you know it.

[honeycomb-fics]

#Ghosted

Fandom: Mob Psycho 100

Pairing: Dimple x Reader (gender neutral) ft Dimple!Serizawa

Word Count: 2.4K too many

Fluff, Humor, Rom-Com (I will most likely make this a series)

Summary: What happens when you catch feelings but you’re already dead? Your series of misfortunes catches Dimple’s eye and he has to wrestle with the implications of romance in the afterlife.

AO3 link

Dimple was planning on spending his day accompanying Shigeo as he went with Teruki to look at the new Hagemon collection. He figured he would at least get some entertainment from his day dropping some snide remarks at how tragic he found their shared sense of fashion, but he couldn’t help but notice he was feeling a bit restless and bored. Even in the face of being able to toss some insults at Teruki, it was becoming less exciting as his hair grew back and he stopped switching wigs every two weeks, material wasn’t as readily available.

Something caught Dimple’s eye as he leisurely floated behind the two adolescent boys who were chatting away about god knows what, he zoned out a while ago. You had just rounded the busy corner, carrying an armful of coffee orders for your coworkers from Mobucks ready to make the trek back to the office when you tripped over a piece of uneven pavement, effectively dropping every last beverage.

“Oh fucking hell,” You sighed out, throwing your hands in the air in resignation, “The nightmare never ends..”

You rifled through your bag for some spare napkins and fruitlessly attempted to dry your pants before picking up the cups off the sidewalk. You stomped your feet as you made your way over to the nearest trash bin, chucking the coffee cups in with a vigor. A deep grimace lined your face as you wiped your hands clean, preparing to make a 180 back to the coffee repeat the entire errand.

Dimple watched the whole mess unfold with a sense of fascination at your expressions and exhaustion. Something about your deep sense of annoyance resonated with him.

He glanced at Shigeo before starting to float across the street in your direction, “Catch up with you losers later!”

You were already halfway down the block by the time Dimple floated in your direction. He opted to just linger slightly behind you as you entered Mobucks, he was a little put off by the fact that he felt inclined to follow you in the first place.

“Welcom- wait weren’t you just here?” The barista asked, “Was there something wrong with your order?”

You stared deadpan back pointed with one hand to your soaked pants that were clearly covered in coffee, “No, just dropped them. Give me a sec and I’ll retell you the entire order.”

Dimple thought to himself ‘this shit is hilarious’ watching you fish through your disorganized bag for a list while customers in this queue piled up behind you. Some impatient middle aged man let out an annoyed huff and you were growing visibly more distressed.

“I can.. probably look your order up in the system actually,” the barista chimed in after five minutes of your desperate searching.

‘Well damn why didn’t you say that sooner’ Dimple retorted to no one. Feeling himself starting to get annoyed on your behalf.

“Oh thank god,” you breathed out a sigh of relief, “I was never going to find it in this quagmire.”

You paid with your company card; which Dimple, much to his dismay, took note of where you worked, and you patiently waited for all ten drinks to be re-made. Throughout your entire journey back to the office, he trailed behind you feeling a small pit of anxiety hoping that this batch of drinks didn’t meet the same destiny as the last. Every time they started to teeter in your arms, he would subconsciously rush forward with concern.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Dimple mused aloud.

He floated in front of you briefly and allowed himself to get a good look at your face, seeing if that was what drew him to you. He noted that, sure, objectively he considered you attractive but that wasn’t quite hitting the nail on the head completely. After all, he’s dead, what business does he have going around being attracted to the living anyway? Once you had safely made it to your office building he decided he had done his part and went his separate way.

-  -  -

Unfortunately for Dimple, he found himself increasingly curious about you since your Mobucks incident and since he just happened to know where you worked it was quite convenient for him to check in at his leisure. He had made several general observations about you, most of them frustrating. One, you were very ordinary, you worked an office job, had no ESP powers to speak of, you probably had hobbies but he didn’t dare follow you home. That was a line that even Dimple was not about to cross. ‘Well at least not yet you pathetic creep,’ he thought to himself. Two, despite having no detectable curse, you were one of the most unfortunate and unlucky people he had ever laid eyes on. This was both very entertaining and distressing for him. He watched you almost fall down a stairwell only to catch yourself at the last second, but subsequently drop the entire box of documents for the board meeting, which you had a complete meltdown cleaning up. There was something about the unbridled rage you exuded in private moments only to instantly put on a mask of cheerfulness in a public setting was- cute. Wait, cute? No.

That brought Dimple to his third point and possibly the most intolerable of them all, he had enough self awareness that he could admit he did find you attractive. He needed to stop this.

-  -  -

Dimple decided to visit Spirits and Such to clear his mind and reset for a bit. He figured watching Reigen flail around would provide him some much needed distraction from his current duress. He was thinking too much, and he was quite frankly over it. However, as soon as he phased through the wall he saw Shigeo sitting on the couch, he knew his plans had just gone to hell. ‘Shit,’ Dimple cursed in his head, ‘If anyone is going to see right through me, it’s him.’ He briefly thought about just retreating but he didn’t want to deal with the aftermath next time he decided to show his face.

“Oh, look who decided to grace us with his presence,” Reigen acknowledged Dimple with a teasing sneer, “I thought you finally moved on, it’s been so long.”

“Heh, don’t get excited. I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy? What do you even do?” Reigen rolled his eyes, glancing over to the spirit curiously.

Dimple mumbled just within Reigen’s earshot, “Not run a fake business..”

“Do you just come here to start—,” Reigen shot up from his desk, visibly perturbed. One of the things Dimple enjoyed about his friend, a term he loosely used for Reigen, not that he would ever openly call him that to his face, was that he was so easy to rile up.

“Oh I thought I heard Dimple’s voice,” Serizawa happily greeted the spirit, as he entered the room from the office kitchen, presumably finishing some small chore, “It’s been awhile!”

“Dimple?” Shigeo finally spoke up, “You disappeared on Teru and I the other day”

“I had something to do,” He attempted to divert as he settled on the other end of the couch Shigeo was on, “Did you get anything especially hideous from that store?”

“You seem different,” Shigeo’s eyes bore into him. Dimple knew that he was going to be persistent. The kid was growing more and more confident by the day and Dimple couldn’t be more proud but by god this was not the time.

“I am not different.”

Serizawa chimed in from his comically small desk, “I think that if you should talk about it if you’re struggling”

Dimple cast Serizawa an exasperated look, “FINE. I met this person, well I didn’t meet them. But I find them interesting. And I just have been checking in with them periodically. I don’t know why I am drawn to them, I would like it to stop. Immediately.”

“Maybe you’re sick,” Reigen offered, not even looking up from his laptop as he answered emails.

“I appreciate the concern for once. But I’m dead, you idiot,” Dimple replied, his tone laced with sarcasm, “I can’t get sick.”

Somewhat excitedly and curious, Shigeo asked, “Do you think you have a crush?”

‘That’s it’ Dimple thought to himself as he phased through the wall, fleeing the situation, ‘I’m done with this shit. They can mock me all they want.”

Out of a stroke or luck, you happened to be walking down the same street Dimple was aimlessly floating down. Heading to a Mobucks to work on a project in peace. Dimple mentally remarked on how you must be their most loyal customer; however, he just didn’t realize that it was pumpkin spice latte season and one of the few things that kept you going was a seasonal flavor.

Against his better judgment, he watched you for a few moments quietly as you got your order and situated your temporary work station in the coffee shop. His mind wandered on how it was nice to see you actually have a peaceful moment for once and how he enjoyed the serene expression on your face when you took the first sip of your drink. When horror struck through his body when Mob’s words ran through his head ‘do you think you have a crush?’

For once, Dimple didn’t allow himself to flee the situation. He forced himself to stay and ruminate on the emotions he was experiencing regarding his curiosity towards you. He couldn’t say for sure if it was a romantic inclination because you have never been able to communicate with him, but what if you could? How would that even work? Would he even want it to?

“What kind of fucked up beauty and the beast shit is this?” Dimple laughed to himself, thankful that no one could hear his self deprecating comments. He had almost wished he never came to this conclusion because now he was reeling at the frustration of it all. As much as he didn’t want to confide in anyone regarding his situation, Shigeo was the person closest to him and had figured it out. There was a chance he would spout something optimistic but he was usually realistic and straightforward when it came to Dimple. Dimple was really holding onto that one strand of hope that someone could talk some sense into him and make this disappear.

-  -  -

Dimple arrives back at the Spirits and Such office looking even more visually distressed than he did when he left. He looked around the room for Shigeo hoping to find the young boy for some kind of comfort, only to be greeted by Serizawa and Reigen. Reigen seemed to be taking in his frantic energy with amusement, leaning back in his office chair, spinning his pen in his fingers.

“Wait. Are you actually in love?” Reigen said half laughing, a look of shock on his face that he didn’t even bother to hide, “I didn’t even know that was possible?”

“Reigen, sir,” Serizawa admonished his boss, “Maybe we should be more gentle with Dimple… he seems stressed.”

Reigen flapped his hand in Serizawa’s direction, waving off his concerns, “If you’re so hung up, why don’t you just possess someone and, you know, actually talk to them. Instead of doing whatever you’re doing. It would be a hell of a lot less creepy.”

Suddenly, Dimple rushed forward, getting directly in Reigen’s face, causing the strawberry-blonde man to scramble back in his chair, “Wow, an excellent idea for once!” He exclaimed, snapping his small green fingers, “Let me borrow yours.”

“Absolutely. Not.” Reigen adamantly refused with a look of abject horror and disgust on his face.

Dimple quickly retreated, already forming another plan, not without shooting Reigen a quick look, “Whatever, you’re too ugly anyway.”

He was too determined with his next course of action to bask in the sounds of Reigen’s offended sputtering, focused on floating nonchalantly over to Serizawa’s desk. Feeling kind of like an idiot for not coming up with this idea himself, he could have been interacting with you this whole time. It’s not like possessing someone is necessarily hard, he’s wasted a lot of time.

“Heey, pal,” Dimple greeted, toying with one of his pens.

Serizawa eyed him warily for one moment before sighing and hanging his head. He calmly raised one hand when Dimple opened his mouth to voice his request.

“I will agree to help you on one condition,” Serizawa said, lifting his head up, sounding oddly stern, “That you do not do anything inappropriate while you are using my body.”

“I really would not trust him,” Reigen advised from across the room.

“Let the big guy make his own calls. I will treat your body with the utmost respect,” Dimple assured, trying his best to look convincing. He honestly didn’t have anything nefarious planned. The idea of just you being able to hear him speak for once was enticing and he was willing to be on his best behavior. The threat of Serizawa being able to vaporize him into nothing was always there, and there was something that Dimple couldn’t pinpoint but.. when Serizawa was annoyed with Dimple it did seem like he was considering it in earnest.

“If you two are going to do this just.. get out of here and do it. I don’t think I can take listening to it anymore,” Reigen said with his head in his hands, looking completely exasperated, “I don’t have any clients this afternoon that require you, Serizawa. Please, just.. handle,” He waved his hand around in a circle in Dimple’s direction, “This.”

“Alright let’s go”

-  -  -

Dimple spots you sitting at the same table at Mobucks, with your brow furrowed, seemingly concentrating very hard on something on your laptop. He hesitates for one moment before making his way over to you, not wanting to interrupt your work, but when has he really ever cared about being polite. Why would he start now? He finally had a corporeal body to borrow and a chance to interact with you, like hell was he going to waste this opportunity. Serizawa was nice but Dimple had his doubts that he would lend his body out habitually.

-  -  -

The empty chair at your table scraped against the floor loudly, diverting your attention from your work. Your eyes shot up from your laptop to the man in front of you. He was tall, quite handsome, with deep brown eyes, but he was wearing a shit-eating grin and he looked over your table.

“Oh, is this seat taken?” He inquired, as he slid himself into the chair.

[hoolequinn]

Cap-Ironman Rec Week Day 1

Here are some recs I have for Day 1 of cap-ironman Rec Week! Today’s theme was Multi-verse Monday, so here are some recs of mine from various Stony universes, or ones that feature multi-verse crossovers. I tried to avoid the larger universes of 616 and MCU, focusing on the smaller ones instead:

Worth a Damn by @saber-wing

Avengers Assemble

That was what it always came down to, wasn't it? Money. Who had the most of it.

Tony has a rough day. The Avengers hit a nerve.

The world spins madly on by goodmorningbeloved

1872 & MCU

This isn’t about the beginning.

This is about the bullet that slices through Steve Rogers’s heart, neat and clean, and leaves him for dead in the dust. This is about the gun that suddenly feels cold, colder, in Tony’s hand as he lunges to his feet and lurches forward, screaming and screaming.

_

Or, Steve and Tony meet again in the afterlife.

The Jar by @sineala

Marvel Adventures: Avengers

The Avengers are ridiculously competitive people, and what starts out as a silly late-night team discussion quickly becomes a contest: their names. Not the code names -- the nicknames. Who can go the longest without using them? They pledge to spend a week not nicknaming each other, and they'll pay up every time they mess up. This hits Tony the hardest, and not just financially. Tony's got a lot of nicknames for everyone, but most of all for Steve -- and when Tony can't use the names he's already got, the names he uses reveal feelings he had no idea he had.

Like stepping on the sun by Red, @starksnack

Avengers Assemble & Marvel Tsum Tsum

When the Sorcerer Supreme asks the Avengers to go investigate a potential multiverse incursion, Tony is less than impressed. The weather is foul, and it's not even a Tuesday. The multiverse portal, when it does occur, seems to be a bit of a fizzer, so Tony isn't expecting anything to happen. He certainly isn't expecting an oversized fuzzy jellybean to come and meddle in his personal life.

I cried a constellation for you by lmao_thunder, @starksnack

Marvel’s Avengers (video game)

Star Tear Disease. The internet tells him it’s deadly. It's not a very well-documented disease, officially at least, because it's been romanticized in the media for years but it's very real. As real as the glittering abominations clumped in his palm and soaked in tears. A grin curls onto Tony’s face. Maybe he’ll have enough to make his own American flag of unrequited love. Perhaps Steve would get a kick out of it.

Epic Love Story by @captainneverever

Marvel Adventures: Avengers & Marvel Tsum Tsum

Tsum Tsum Steeb dreams of becoming a hero and an artist and falls in love with a mysterious song. Then he's kidnapped and doesn't know if he'll ever find the tsum tsum of his dreams. Can the Avengers help him?

Double Time by @sineala

616 & Marvel Noir

Cassino, Italy, December 1943. Special Agent Tony Stark, former Marvels adventurer, is sent to investigate a Cosmic Cube found by the Invaders -- and it's the perfect opportunity for him to rekindle his secret romance with Steve Rogers. But when Hydra attempts to steal the Cube, an inadvertent wish for help leads to the appearance of a Tony from the future of another world: Director Stark of SHIELD. This Tony is a man with a lot on his mind. He refuses to tell them anything about the future, but he seems to know much more than he should about Captain America. And something's happened that's clearly killing him inside, but he's not talking. When Director Stark's failed attempt to return home leads to the unexpected appearance of another visitor from his universe, all the lies come undone. Now there are two wars to fight, and the second one could ruin all of them.

And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time by @elysian-prince

Marvel’s Avengers (video game)

“Well, since we’re going to die anyway, you have any, I don’t know… Last confessions?”

Or what would have happened if Steve and Tony had been more open about their feelings in the escape pod.

Inevitable by @naxa1818

Avengers Assemble

After Tony lost a bet to Steve he has to go through a week of basic training. If only he hadn't just had a revelation about the super soldier. It was going to be a long week.

The shadow of a dream by @laireshi

1872

Tony can't make it right again. Steve can.

[denimbex1986]

'THE POWER OF LOVE

When lensing an amalgamation of haunting and precious memories and heartbreak, director Andrew Haigh and cinematographer Jamie D. Ramsay SASC wanted to avoid being too heavy handed with nostalgia, instead opting for a subtle and organic visual expression of reminiscence and relationships.

Much like the journey of reflection and discovery that unfolds in author Taichi Yamada’s novel Strangers – a traditional Japanese ghost story of love, loss, the afterlife, and treasured and sometimes painful memories – the process of translating the book for the screen took writer-director Andrew Haigh (Lean on Pete, 45 Years, Weekend) on his own emotional voyage.

In Haigh’s cinematic reimagining, All of Us Strangers, we meet Adam (Andrew Scott), a 40-something gay screenwriter who lives alone in a high-rise flat in London. Still impacted by grief from the traumatic incident in his childhood which claimed the lives of his parents, when Adam meets Harry (Paul Mescal), who lives in the same block of flats, the love that grows has a transformational power.

Returning to his childhood home, Adam is transported back to the ‘80s and as past and present collide in a nostalgia-infused dreamlike world, he has the opportunity to spend moments with his parents who have been frozen in time at the age they were when they passed away. Memories of those he has lost and feelings of grief and suffering are revisited as Adam has conversations he wished he could have experienced if his parents had lived to see him reach adulthood.

In the telling of an ethereal tale of the power of love, Haigh wanted to “pick away” at his own past in the same way as protagonist Adam, even choosing to shoot the scenes with Adam’s parents at the director’s childhood home in Croydon, South London. “I was interested in exploring the complexities of both familial and romantic love, but also the distinct experience of a specific generation of gay people growing up in the ‘80s,” says Haigh, wanting “to move away from the traditional ghost story of the novel and find something more psychological, almost metaphysical.”

Speaking on a panel session following a BAFTA screening of the film which British Cinematographer attended, Haigh spoke of his interest in “the need to connect, or to soften whatever the pain is that you carry around with you.” While some changes were made to the story that unfolds in Yamada’s book, the central idea of the protagonist getting the chance to meet his parents, and “go back in time to have those conversations again, get to know them and them get to know him” felt really powerful to Haigh.

“I wanted to incorporate the idea of a love story into that and see how those two things connect and bounce off each other,” says the director. “There is a sense of yearning – he has lost his parents and is yearning for them as well as yearning to find someone to give him comfort and love. His parents are also yearning to be alive again and to spend more time with their child.”

A fresh narrative

The script stood out as extraordinary to Jamie D. Ramsay SASC, a cinematographer who finds it “rare to come across a piece of literature in script form that excites you, feels fresh and unlike something you’ve seen before.” He was fascinated by exploring the way people deal posthumously with trauma. “It touched me because there’s a lot of emotion attached to the subject, especially for those who grew up feeling prejudice against homosexuality and uncomfortable to come out to their parents. That was a childhood trauma that stuck with Adam, coupled with the grief he experienced,” says Ramsay, speaking to us from the location of his next production.

The feeling and “the way the movie moves you” always come first for the cinematographer, and is then “serviced by the next layer which is the choice of lights, glass, and style. “So in this film, there’s the feeling of loss as well as the emptiness of never being able to get the acceptance of the two most important people in your life. The relevance of the story to the current day when isolation is all too common struck a chord with me, and I also wanted to be part of making the movie because I love Andrew’s previous work – he’s an incredible filmmaker.

“He’s a rare director who has impeccable taste and direct sharp vision about what he wants to do. However once you have aligned with him and understand what he’s looking for creatively, he hands it over to you and trusts you completely.”

The South African/British cinematographer is familiar with lensing heart wrenching stories with sensitivity and creative flair, having won the Bronze Frog at Camerimage 2022 another adaptation of a book – Oliver Hermanus’ Living which sees a civil servant reflect on his life and how to spend his remaining days when faced with a fatal diagnosis. Ramsay’s work on All of Us Strangers also struck a chord with audiences and immersed them in another emotional story, resulting in the film being selected in this year’s Main Competition at Camerimage and scooping multiple British Independent Film Awards including Best Cinematography, Best Film, and Best Director.

Discovering the look

It is the smooth-flowing conversation between director and DP during the five-week prep and five-week shoot which Ramsay believes was key in the creative process and a result of Haigh being “super smart and knowing what he wants.” For Ramsay, a DP is “a visual ideas engine which the director then guides into place” and as Haigh knew so specifically what he wanted in terms of the story being told, the pre-production period of fleshing out their approach to the film was a joy.

“Andrew didn’t have a fixed idea of what it should look like though, which is great for me because I love the process of finding out what it should look like with the director,” adds Ramsay. “When the director is autonomous and has a strong visual idea, it’s difficult for you to collaborate and truly imprint your personality onto the film. We discovered it together through deep conversation, starting with what the narrative was really about, who the characters were, and then just talking about the references that appealed to us over the years.”

These inspirations included Ingmar Bergman productions such as Swedish period drama Cries and Whispers (1972) due to its unsettling movement, even though the narrative themes differed to All of Us Strangers. Taking creative influence from that production subconsciously and “allowing it to sit in the background” of their decision making, the filmmakekodrs explored Haigh’s wish to “create a sense of nostalgia but not be too heavy handed with it,” producing a subtle memory of sadness.

While Yamada’s book was a strong influence on Haigh, when shooting an adaptation of a novel, Ramsay “tries to avoid being affected by outside sources besides the script” and rarely reads the book because it “overprescribes your creativity and imagination”.

Discussions led them to explore the organic feeling of memories, and decide that those recollections of the filmmakers’ and protagonist Adam’s past would feel analogue. “We knew it would probably be things like 35mm prints from the ‘80s and early ‘90s, 300g printed records, a photo diary, or a tape deck which are all indicative of the era we grew up in, and the era in which the lead character went through this trauma,” says Ramsay.

The duo agreed this organic and analogue feeling would drive the visual approach – they wanted “to feel the dust on the negative, to feel that human touch to the film. We never wanted something that felt overly structured and overly perfect, it had to feel flawed.” With the touch of the filmmakers behind the lens combined with the creations of the art department shaping the final result on screen, the choice to shoot on 35mm 3-perf film was made quickly, working with Arricam LT and Kodak VISION3 500T, 250D and 50D film stocks and processing, scanning and dailies colour carried out at Cinelab.

“You can’t argue the value of shooting on 35mm film and I had great support from the teams at Kodak and Cinelab in terms of the tests and the dailies. Choice of film stock was largely driven by function as much as aesthetic. When you don’t have a huge budget for lighting and you’re using a lot of practical light, having the speed of 500T is really useful,” says Ramsay. “From a light perspective, we also did a lot of transitionary filming and having the extra bit of love out of the 250D allowed us to transition between day into night smoothly. For a lot of our daily life sequences we went for 50D because we love the robust strength it offers.”

The more vintage aesthetic was paired with cutting-edge technology in line with the filmmakers’ aim to “not be overly dramatic with the feeling of nostalgia.” Already venturing into a more organic technique of shooting on film, they wanted to avoid “adding another layer by using vintage lenses to achieve flares”. Instead they sought “the reality and responsibility of a sharp set of lenses, offset with the romance and organic nature of film” which led them to test multiple options before landing on Zeiss Master Primes.

“That contrast played with the analogue versus digital, the pastels versus the primaries which we kept leaning into,” says Ramsay. Colour palette was largely inspired by the era, selecting signifying tones that felt aesthetically pleasing as well as true to the time period. “We then worked out the evolution of those tones in a contemporary context. And whenever we went back in time, we imprinted those tones onto those moments,” says Ramsay.

A “journey of colour” that was birthed in Adam’s childhood found its way into his apartment in adulthood. “From the art department through to the camera and lighting crew, we all wanted to convey the feeling that Adam never quite grew up. He got Peter Pan syndrome and was locked into an area of his life he couldn’t move past.”

Haigh and production designer Sarah Finlay spoke about the design of the film needing to look quite naturalistic and avoid jumping in and out of the different time periods visually. Haigh’s childhood home needed to be modified in some ways to look as he had remembered it. He “wanted the past and present to bleed into each other and a lot of the design was more about feeling the past.”

Vintage meets cutting-edge

Both Haigh and Ramsay are fans of the look and feel of film, but they also wanted to create a “feeling of being out of touch with reality – a symptom of the self-induced isolation and loneliness Adam experienced.” This resulted in a collision between the analogue and digital filmmaking world, and Adam’s apartment being built in a studio at Wembley Park Studios in London. Incorporating virtual production techniques, the set was surrounded by an LED wall comprising ROE Visual Ruby 2.3mm (running on the Helios processing platform), upon which all of the views from Adam’s apartment were displayed. The 120ft by 50ft volume was built with the help of the team at Creative Technology – which supplied the LED screens – and plates were captured in and around Stratford, East London.

“In doing so, we could manage the time of day, luminance, position of the view, cloud structure, movement of traffic, or whether we wanted to do a time lapse with the clouds,” says Ramsay. “It just allowed us to put the reality a little bit outside of the realm of normal, just beyond his apartment. This helps create a slightly strange feeling in his apartment, which is a significant location as it’s where 30 minutes of the movie takes place.”

Ramsay enjoyed a harmonious combination of old and new technology, using ARRI SkyPanel LED lights to create an ambience matching the colour of clouds displayed on the LED wall in addition to 12K or 24K ARRI T12 or T24 tungsten fresnel lights to create the feeling of a sunset illuminating the room.

“I haven’t been able to achieve that with any other light besides the fresnel tungsten head which have a warmth and analogue feel,” he says. “My sweet spot is a specific combination between old and new such as using 35mm film against the LED wall to soften the wall. And by embracing LED technology to marry the colour tone of the wall with the ambience, you then create an interesting synergy with the analogue feel of an old fresnel.”

Helping Ramsay achieve this synergy was Warren Ewen, a gaffer the DP has collaborated with a number of times in the UK, who “goes above and beyond” and is “one of the strongest hands on set.” Working with a stellar lighting crew, the DP learnt about safeguarding himself from an exposure perspective and making sure there is enough lighting in place to service what is needed when shooting on film.

In addition to the benefits Ramsay and the crew enjoyed when working with the virtual set, the cast expressed their appreciation for having a visual context of the outside world displayed on the LED wall in contrast to their experiences of green screen shoots. However, Ramsay’s greatest challenge when shooting on the volume was occasionally discovering moiré in the dailies. “It gave me sleepless nights because when we got our dailies moiré might be introduced in the strangest situations – in reflections on the set as if a glass, mirror or wall was acting as a sensor,” he explains.

“That’s still a mystery that needs to be solved. It’s the hard thing about seeing your dailies 16 hours later when shooting on film. But Andrew was so collaborative and supportive throughout, knowing we were going down the 35mm and virtual production route and the emotional turmoil we might encounter along the way. But the results were well worth it.”

Prior to shooting commenced Ramsay explored technical challenges that might arise for scenes which were to be shot against the LED wall with his longtime colour collaborator, Joseph Bicknell, colourist at Company 3. “After understanding the story in broad strokes and Jamie’s perspective on it, I like to create a strong show LUT for him to load in camera during tests, so he can see live how it might react before photography,” says Bicknell. “Once we have that test footage we’ll dial in the look further, I’ll make a few adjustments and he shares his thoughts which we built into the final show LUT. The overarching look of the film didn’t end up straying far from this in the final grade.”

Bicknell felt the production was a “masterpiece” from the first time he watched the cut without final mix or colour as “all the mood and intensity was there”. Haigh and the cinematographer’s shorthand was so strong that Ramsay had a clear idea of the visual vibe the director desired when it came to collaborating with Bicknell again in the final grade. “Andrew is very supportive in that way and has a lot of confidence in the HODs he’s picked because he loves what they do. He trusts them and that’s why it’s wonderful to work with him,” says Ramsay.

Exploring the film’s emotional qualities, in the grade Bicknell and Ramsay worked with DaVinci Resolve to achieve a “light blend of magical realism to help the audience travel through the story”. On specific scenes they used colour to more forcefully convey emotion, for example during moments of distress such as the sequences that take place on the underground. “Inspiration for this was partly taken from the performances but also what was happening in the sound design,” says Bicknell.

Reacting to the moment

The majority of the narrative plays out in Adam’s childhood home, which Haigh was keen to shoot in the house he grew up in. But, as Ramsay highlights, shooting in quite restrictive spaces such as those in the house location with low ceilings and small windows would have been tricky even when working with small digital cameras. “The fact we are shooting on 35mm cameras with 1,000 foot loads made filming and lighting tough,” he says. “We managed to get permission from the property’s current owner to cut out a doorway to extend the lounge but it was still very challenging.”

Wanting to work within a wider frame to allow themselves the option to isolate characters, but also centralise characters in important moments led the cinematographer and director to adopt a 2.39: 1 aspect ratio. “There are scenes where we isolate the characters on either side of the 2:39 aspect ratio and others where we centralise the character and tighten the eyeline to a great extent,” says Ramsay, using the sequence where Adam and his parents are all in bed together as an example. Haigh and Ramsay wanted this to be an uncut scene, and to hide when the cast members in the bed needed to switch and move, creating a beautiful yet strange and jarring experience.

“This was difficult as we were on location at the house in Croydon and needed to build a cage inside the bedroom from which we could suspend the 35mm camera with a 1,000 foot mag above the characters,” says Ramsay, who likes to operate and “react to the feeling of a moment”, and was behind the camera for All of Us Strangers. “I had my grip Kevin Fraser seven inches above this rigging, operating the dual slider as the scene developed. It’s tough to find 35mm familiar crew but Kevin’s very comfortable with rigging film gear.”

Meanwhile, Ramsay was on the zoom, timing it precisely to push in so another character disappeared from the frame. “Each time they had to leave the bed without us feeling the bed move, and then another character got in and they were revealed. Building a structure to support the 35mm gear on location was difficult but what was most important to us was having absolutely no cuts in that sequence, so there was no chance to lose the audience’s attention, locking them in this dream.”

As well as not being too heavy handed with the sense of nostalgia, Haigh wanted to avoid being overbearing with the suggestion of Adam’s different states of mind, wanting the subtlety to almost make the audience question where they were and whether it was the past or present. “The only time we pushed it was the club sequence where Adam is intoxicated and that feeling was motivated more by the drugs he had taken than by the state of mind and the presence of ghosts in his life,” says Ramsay. “For the club scene, we had more free rein to really push the lighting, transitions, use reflections and break the fourth wall by Adam looking into the camera, confusing the situation.”

While pushing the camera movement and making it more confusing in that sequence, the filmmakers wanted everything else to be fairly stable, with a “slight movement and breath to it” achieved by shooting on zoom lenses and moving “constantly in and out of the zoom, to make everything feel like it was breathing a little and slightly strange.”

Difficult locations to control where the crew were at the mercy of what already existed included the Whitgift Centre shopping centre in Croydon. Shooting there demanded the crew carefully pick the time of day they were filming due to the large glass ceiling through which the sun would shine.

“Sequences that were fun to work out included the tube scenes which were shot on a tube line we had access to for a certain amount of time and could go back and forth on,” says Ramsay. “Adam’s journey always needed to appear to be in one direction, so I needed to work out when to mirror his placement on the tube and when to switch extras, so he always seemed like he was going in the right direction.”

In scenes taking place on the train, reflection was an important motif because “reflection is your self-identity” and the filmmakers “wanted to represent the decay of Adam’s psychology through the way he was seeing himself in those moments.” In line with Haigh’s subtle storytelling, the director wanted the use of reflections to be gentle and quiet rather than overbaked. “So, it was a case of choosing when to do it and leaning into what exists in reality,” says Ramsay. “For example, tube windows morph your face naturally, so we thought let’s lean into what happens in this environment and use it as a tool.”

Haigh emphasises the importance – “especially when lensing a story with queer identity at the heart of it – that the reflection a person gives to the world can be very different to how they feel. It can be quite problematic and traumatic.” The director felt it was important that Adam sees himself in a different light each time he looks at his reflection “and things are changing and he’s learning or coming to terms with things.” Another central and constant theme running through the film for crew and cast was conveying the power of love and that “long after you’re gone, that feeling of love remains.”'

[wanderingnork]

Horror Movies: Lady Lab Rats

This is a theme that takes a turn for the disturbing: movies about women who are the subject of scientific experiments. Most of these can get pretty uncomfortable, so I strongly advise tackling this list with care. That said, I love all but one of the movies on this list. One of them is in my personal top ten horror pieces, in any medium, of all time. This list is presented in increasing order of intensity and on-screen violence.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920): A strange doctor exhibiting an eerie somnambulist as a carnival attraction arrives in a small town. The presence of this movie on the list should tell you there’s more to this than meets the eye, but I don’t want to spoil the ending for anyone who doesn’t already know. This movie leans on an unsettling atmosphere and gorgeous sets, not screaming and gore, to create its horror. The leading lady is delightfully spooky throughout.

Thale: A pair of crime scene cleaners stumble on a mythological creature trapped in a basement, formerly a subject of medical experimentation, and have to decide how to help her--or if the risk of helping is worth it to them. No actual experiments go on onscreen, and though the leading lady spends the entire film fully nude, it’s not remotely sexualized. Vulnerable yes, sexual no. It’s a slow-paced movie, with strong creature feature elements.

Splice: Two scientists decide to secretly create and raise an animal/human hybrid creature in their barn. Of course, this goes horribly, terribly wrong. Dren (the creature) has an absolutely stunning design. This one’s unique on the list in that the woman in question was born thanks to an experiment, not brought into a preexisting situation. I was personally disturbed by the strong elements of child grooming in the actions of both scientists, and would be unlikely to watch this again even though I adore Dren.

V/H/S 94: The Subject: A classical mad scientist kidnaps and alters unwilling people into cyborgs in a dark, back-alley clinic. When the authorities arrive, Subject 99--one of the only survivors--has to fight her way free. This is literally one of my favorite horror stories ever. Subject 99 is an incredible Final Girl, the found footage is shot in a very impressive way, and the action doesn’t outweigh the dreadful horror of what’s happened.

Martyrs (2008): A troubled young woman follows her even more troubled friend directly into the hands of a cult obsessed with discovering the secrets of the afterlife--by “scientifically” torturing young women until they can see it. You can imagine what happens from there (or maybe you can’t). Responses to this movie vary. Some people say that it’s the most disturbing thing they’ve ever watched; others, like me, found it incredibly moving and cathartic. Some people call it torture porn; I’m not so sure the label applies here. It is a challenging watch, no matter where you fall on the scale.

Some questions for thought: What changes in the stories if the protagonists of these movies have their gender changed (male, transgender, nonbinary, anything) while nothing else is altered? Would the characters feel more or less vulnerable? Would your reaction to the more violent movies change--would you be more or less disturbed? What role does the trope Beauty Is Never Tarnished play in these stories, if any? Would your feelings about these movies change if the characters were aged up to middle age or older? Why or why not? Would it surprise you to find out that I think The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is on an equal level of institutional violence to Martyrs, if not more so? If you’ve seen them both, would you agree?

(Previous Recommendations)

[pokeexehasstoppedworking]

Diamond In The Rough Ch16 The End

(This is it folks. Just one more left after this which will be the epilogue. The place where reader meets Arceus is based off the Legends of Arceus post game fight. Link below.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=_8-feGjQNs8&list=LL&index=37)

Gordie was home. His home. Your Gordie. His Y/n. Your Home. Everything. Both. Yours and his. The whole day was a magical blur. You remembered feeling Gordie's happy tears fall onto your forehead and you cried as well still hanging onto each other like a pair of koalas in front of a large crowd but you didn't care. By the time you two finally pulled apart the entire crowd began cheering and pushing you all towards the inevitable welcome back party Circhestor decided to throw them. The entire time Gordie holding onto you in one way or another or vise versa. It was all such a blur of a night. You remembered eating a little bit, giving Melony a congratulations hug, and just...talking. Just talking and being held by Gordie who seemed to do nothing but smile and hold you the entire time...until it got dark. Like REALLY dark and really REALLY late into the night. By the time you realized it, you were already so tired but so happy. You couldn't remember any other time you cried so much or felt so happy it felt like the whole world was becoming whole again. All your focus on Gordie and his focus on you so it was quick a shock when you were finding yourself standing in front of your house having been escorted none other than the man himself and having him convince you to go to sleep.

"Get some sleep," he spoke softly, forehead pressed against yours, a few happy tears falling down his face, and two soft hands holding your cheeks. Perfect smile on his features. "I wanna spend more time with ya too but it's late..an' M' tired from travelin'. Tomorrow I'll be back to ya. I promise you." Followed by another kiss to your forehead.

You did whine at the loss but your urge to sleep overtook any other emotion. So you stumbled your way inside after a few more moments. Silver and the others were both happy and anxious to see you after so long but sleep still won out over everything. You were already so exhausted you hardly even noticed you going through the routine of taking a shower, brushing your teeth, and getting into your favorite pair of fuzzy pjs before just collasping into your bed. Eyelids heavy and darkness consuming you as you fell into a fast deep sleep. The darkness of your dream was interrupted however in the most strangest ways. Because you woke up. Or at least...you thought you did-

"At last...Thou haveth been found. Divine childe from thine differ plain of being.''

Cold..It was so cold. Like winter had come early and seeped into your blankets, except you weren't covered by anything except for the clothes on your back. And you weren't laying on any soft cozy mattress like when you first went to best. It felt..cold and glasslike the ground under you. Like you just decided to fall asleep on a giant pane of glass in the middle of winter. It was the cold that beckoned f/c eyes to open above you, shivering and teeth clattering together from the cold feeling. And what was above the young woman made her gasp at the holy sight above. It-...It was almost as if the universe itself was in front of you, swirling shades of purple and black swam before you in the shape of the galaxy with some invisible force holding it above you. Silence fading in and out as twinkling stars shown around you with the beautiful sight of the fully moon lighting it all. The moon looked so close and so far at the same time. What the-...Where were you? Were you dreaming? This felt too real to be just a dream. Were you seeing some kind of old game footage like the first time you arrived in this world??..Had you died? Is this the afterlife? No..No that wasn't it. Before you could get too far into your questioning, you slowly, body shaking and teeth now clattering together from how cold it was, stood on legs more wobbly than a newborn deer. Your hands came up to rub your arms in a failed attempt to warm you up looking around. Black...EVERYWHERE WAS BLACK!! Like eternal night other than the endless night stars and full moon above you. Nothing anywhere. Spinning in a complete circle, you still found yourself completely alone. Right. Alone. This MUST have been some crazy dream right?

"H-Hello?!," You called out tentatively finding your voice trembling and throat dry from the cold croaking. Like a creepy tunnel your voice echoed into the dark abyss. ...No answer came back to you. "I-I-Is an-nyone there!?"

Dead silence.

Ok. Obviously this wasn't a dream. This was a freaking NIGHTMARE!! You felt dread creeping in on you and you would've started panicking if it wasn't for a voice. One you thought you heard before, One so feeble and far you almost thought you had imagined it. Then you heard it again.

"This way.''

The words- That voice came from behind you and you snapped behind you seeing no one.

"H-HELLO!? HEY! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!? C-C-C-C'mon! Ju-Just s-s-show yourselves al-al-laread-dy!"

"This way," the voice repeated only now you were facing the direction it came from.

This person-..thing...It couldn't be serious right? Your mind was playing tricks on you surely!...But..you had no other choice but to follow it huh? Sigh. You sighed, looked around you one more time, again saw nothing, and then turned forward to behind walking. To be honest it felt like walking on a treadmill. Never leaving the place you stood except you didn't feel the ground move under your feet or the stars go past you, maybe your feet were just too cold. Then, after a short while of walking you saw it. A small dull light coming from in front of you. You grew more excited and your pace quickened. That was it! The exit! At this point you were all but running, excited to leave this place wherever it is was you were. You'd probably wake up once you reach the end. Boy Piers would think this one would be a doozy to hear. Probably get a laugh outta it too. The closer you got the more blinding the light became. Up until you had to close your eyes against the harsh glare. Still you continued on and while the light gave you hope it also took away your sight until with many blinks and your hands rubbing your eyelids, they slower adjusted to the light and it wasn't as bright as you initially thought it was. And your eyes blinked down once your leg bumped into something almost making you trip over and blink at it. Until your eyes fully adjusted. And widened as you realized you were staring at....Uh..Well you were staring at..The light was coming from...

A floating rectangle???

Yes. Before you floating just a foot above the ground was a stop sign sized rectangle that was glowing a white with a slight blue-green tint to it. Your f/c eyes followed it up to another one just like it. And then another. And another. And another. All one foot apart and starting to head upwards like some kind of stairs...Wait..WERE these stairs?? You kept staring at it totally bewildered-

"Up, Young One. Ascend."

You flinched. There it was. That voice again. It sounded male in gender and echoed both inside and outside your skull like a drumroll. Wait. Did that thing say up? You blinked at the apparent stairs again. It wanted you to go up? Seriously!? A long flight of stairs?! Your mind couldn't have dreamt up an elevator at least?...You sighed but followed the strange voice's instructions and began to climb the glowing staircase upwards. Step after step you took moving upwards in a seemingly never ending stairway of glowing floating rectangles. After a while you got to a point where you couldn't tell where you began or where it ended, as if you weren't even going anywhere again like when you were walking, but there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Er. Stairs I mean. Because when you looked up, you saw something at last that made you give pause once again. Upwards above you was a GIANT circular platform surrounded by faint purple lights resembling the aurora borealis. Was that where you were supposed to go? Looking around there was nothing and no where else to go. You couldn't even see the bottom of the stairs anymore as they faded into the darkness below. Guess there was only one way out of this mess. Looking back upwards you continued your climb all the way up until finally at last you were standing on the strange floating platform. The platform was about as big as half your standard large parking lot and strange circle patterns were glowing in it's floor. You stopped when you were about half way in the middle of it and looked around. And still nothing although you didn't feel so cold anymore now.

"HELLO!?," you hollered out again your voice echoing around as you looked around for any sign of life. "Hey! I'm here already! Where are you!? Show yourself!"

"Be Not Afraid!"

That voice again. Echoing. It sounded like it came from everywhere and no where at once leaving you looking any which way to find it. Up at the stairs. Down at your feet. Around and around at all sides seeing absolutely no one. Then it happened. Something blocked the light from you making you freeze as a long shadow fell over you. ...You felt yourself gulp feeling a VERY massive presence behind you eyes boring into the back of your skull. And then you slowly turned around. And you saw it. Irises shrinking and jaw dropping. White blinded your vision as red and green eyes bore down at you from four stories high and feet across. The thing a monster above you-

"AAAAAAAHHHHH!!!" Your body moved on it's own. Peddling backwards and making you crash onto your backside flashbacks of the giant corviknight when you first showed up flashing before your eyes. Making the giant pokemon blink and wince.

"I sayeth be not afraid."

"HOLY ARCEUS!!," You cried out staring at this...this..thing wide eyed scooting backwards and pointing at the thing towering over you. "What the heck are you!?"

"Oh..Thou hast already answered thine question," it answered you tilting it's head at you. "It hast taken me many a moon to find thee."

You paused. Staring at the giant thing in front of you like a goldfish before lowering it's head. "....What?"

It looked eye level at you now as if trying not to frighten you again. "Thoust tis gazing upon thy god of this realm."

God?...Wait. This thing was a god?? Not any god you could think of like Thor or Hercules. Wait. Did the pokemon franchise even have a god? Well there were legendary pokemon which were like demigods and the strongest among them was-....Was-...Your eyes widened more as a glass breaking sound went off in your head again and the thing chuckled at your expression.

"HOLY ARCEUS!!!"

"Thee one and only."

"I-...W-What the-" ARCEUS!? YOU WERE BLOODY TALKING TO THE ARCEUS!? "W-Wha-...How-...WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING HERE!?"

"I haveth summoned thee to correct the mistake of mine children."

"Wa-..Y-Y-Your children!?"

It nodded before lifting it's head back up and you stumble/wobbled back onto your foot. "I'm afraid the fault of thou's arrival to this plain of existance would be none other than my own children. Perhaps thou knowest thy children of time and space?"

You continued to stare at him before raising a brow. "Are-...A-Are you talking about Dialgia and Palkia?"

Arceus nodded. "Indeed."

"Wha-...H-How the heck?! What did they do to me!?"

"It seems that not too long ago now mine two children had gotten into a rather terrible spat. The worst one in nearly a millennia. Twas the fighting so passionate that they had opened up portals to your world. Resulting in many a person crossing over."

You still stared at him....before you scowled. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. WAIT A MINUTE!!" You pointed at him. "Are you telling me that the only reason I'm here is because I fell through a portal two legendary pokemon made!?"

Arceus looked a bit more embarrassed now. "When down to it..yes. Tis what happened. And thoust was not thee only one. I had toldest thine children to fix their mistake."

"....And did they?"

"Yes...Well. Mostly. I hast seen them mend the rifts and heal thine wounds towards one another but send the humans they did not. Instead they deemed it worthy to bend space and time to thine will and make thee a part of thine new world."

Make you a part of this world-...THE ID CARD!! Your eyes widened as you realized. THE OLD BAG SONIA DISCOVERED AT THE CRASH SIGHT!! That was them!? It must've been them! That was the only way to explain it! Things were starting to make so much sense now.

"So Dialgia and Palkia fought and during that fight managed to open portals between this plain of existence that they exist and somewhere where they only exist in video games and anime?....That....actually makes sense in a really, really weird way. But that still doesn't explain why you're here."

"With mine children not doing so I hast taken it up in mineself to right thine wrongs and return thine human children to their rightful home."

Your eyes widened. "You can do that?"

He nodded. "I apologize on behalf on my children for thou's troubles and thee's wait for mine arrival. For there was a many humans which fell and I hadst to prioritized the ones who would cause more trouble than though."

"You can...really send me back? Just how many were there!?"

"A plenty but do not be alarmed. Every human was sent back happily, some more forced than others. However thy childe is thy last to return home and thus thou shalt get to chose thy fate."

"You mean...I can chose whether I can leave or stay?"

"Correct. Thou hast shown bravery and compassion where others shant. I commend thee and thy good deeds. Therefore shalt get my reward here. Chose. Stay in this new world or return home from wince ye came."

You...could go back? You could go back home!? Back to your mother and old home and life. You could ...you could go and make a new life for yourself. You could leave and get your own life and job and chose your own college since you had the guts to never listen to her! And she still must be worried about you. And...that was your goal in the beginning r-right? To get back home. But...you did and have so much here. You had friends. A job. A home. Pets- Er. Pokemon. And you and Gordie-...You'd have to start all over again if you went back, and Dialgia and Palkia made you an identity here. You now existed in both worlds. But you could only chose one.

"What...happens if I go back? T-T-To my old world."

"Nothing. It would be like if thou never left at all."

"Really?"

"Thou would be sent back to the exact time they disappeared. You'dst be wearing the clothes thou wore when you disappeared. Thou's age would be the same before you left. It would be if thou never ever even left for a second...But. Be warned. If thou shalt pick this path, you shall never be able to return here again. And everyone here shall forget you." Your brows shot up! "Every evidence of you even being here would fade away. Photos. Memories...Everything. Your friends would forget about you."

They ...Would forget you? All of them. The journey you made with your friends? The way you raised Silver? Gordie and your feelings?

"W-What about my Mom?! In my own world I mean? W-What would happen to her?"

"Thine same scenario. In fact thoust hast been here for so long thy mother hast most likely forgotten as your existence hast most like already faded from there as well. But fear not Human Child. It shalt all be fixed once I send ye back."

You stared at him. She....had already forgotten about you? But all of it would be fixed once he sent you back..If you decided to take him up on his offer to send you back. But would that be the best thing? Yes you missed her but...There was so much more here. And your world didn't have Funny Leon or Smart Sonia or always hungry Silver or ambitious Postwick twins....Or..Gordie. ..It was decided. You inhaled a shaky breath stealing your nerves before looking back up at Arceus who still stayed ever patiently.

"Hast thou decided?"

You nodded. "I have. I-...I-I'd like to stay if that's possible."

"Art thou sure? I will only make this offer once and if thee choses to stay.." He shook his head. "Thine choice is final. I shalt not make this offer again nor will I send thee back to your old home. Think carefully before thou gives me their final answer."

"I'm already sure. And I'd like to stay."

"Tis that thine final answer?" You nodded and he hummed. "....So be it. As thou walkest onward upon thine own path, upon thee and upon this creation where thou now dwellest, I bestow my blessing. Take heed upon thine new life and tell not a soul of our meeting. Fair thee well, Human Childe Y/n of thy different world."

With that your vision began to fuzz and blur. The darkness shifted and spun around you like you were drunk and dizzy. Faster and faster everything spend up as the double vision of Arceus faded...And you woke up. Shot straight up from your cozy bed in your own little house in the dark. It....It must've still been night time! Gordie walked you home only a few hours ago. After a moment you slowly laid yourself back down and stared at the ceiling for what must've been ten minutes or so processing what had just happened....Before you again smiled.

"...I'm home."

[genz420]

The Fire That Burns With Us - Chapter 93: A Fathers Love.

Master List

Previous Part - Next Part

138 -  Harrenhal 

A father's love can make or break a person.  Even the presence of a father in a person's life can make all the difference.  

When Aemond first learnt of Visenya being pregnant after their wedding, he remembers the joy and excitement, but also the fear.  He grew up without his fathers love, knowing that his father had a favourite and it wasn’t his brothers or even sister.  But the product of his father's first marriage, a product of a marriage full of love, unlike his mothers and father.  

Aemond had been terrified in the months Visenya had spent pregnant.  The only time he ever saw a father love their child was with Ser Laenor and the Strong bastards and Visenya.  He couldn’t understand how a man could love another man's child and treat them as their own, not when his father didn’t try to spend time with him and his siblings.  

So Aemond wanted to ensure that his children grew up with love, not caring that fathers usually weren’t as involved in the children's early years.  But his world changed the second he laid eyes on those two bases.  Then came Aenar, named after the Dragonlord that moved their house from the Freehold of Valyria to the new lands of Westeros.  

Aemond isn’t a stranger to the whispers around the legitimacy of his newest son, the fact that the babe has red hair, and that remours that Visenya and Rob are more than just friends.  But Aemond knows that Aenar is a Targaryen through and through and had most likely taken after his mother rather than him or Visenya.    A fact that haunts his dreams, ideas spurting like Tyrell flowers that his son might take more than just appearance from his grandmother.   But as the babe sleeps soundly in his arms, he doubts that Aenar could do anything evil in his life.

But as of late, his dreams are filled with Visenya dying out West or himself dying in the East.  Hundreds of thousands of leagues between them, and Aemond just hopes they don’t meet again in the afterlife and that both of their gods provide them with more time.

A selfish wish, but it is more reasonable to ask than for the rest of his family to drop dead.  

So before Aemond is forced to mount his dragon and protect the Riverland army as they march south, he can enjoy some alone time with his children.   As the twins play together, Aemond is plagued with the memories of simpler times when his family still hated each other but didn’t wish death on eachother.   Back when he thought his biggest worries were not spending enough time with his children or Visenya dying because he was too selfish and wanted more children.  

“I remember when you and Visenya were that small,” The unmistakable sound of Laenor echoes in the silence room.   The presence of the Velaryon makes Aemond spring out of his chair. Aenar pressed closer to his chest, like trying to block the sight of the babe.  “Aemond,”

Laenor knows that the prince must have a hard time trusting people, given their current situation, but if anyone should be wary of someone, it should be Laenor of Aemond.  The former husband to Rhaenyra can’t help but still hold ill feelings towards the younger male.  For stealing his dead sister's dragon, perhaps he has redeemed himself by giving Visenya happiness.  

“I do not know your intentions,” Aemond simply states.  

Aemond keeps his gaze locked on the older man, not daring to look away while Laenor and Daenys play at his feet.   Daenys could even taunt her brother, and Aemond would not dare look away from Laenor.  For all he knows, Laenor could work with the Blacks, perhaps still loyal to his former wife.  Maybe he was sent here to kill one of his children, or perhaps he is a spy.  

“I would never harm your children,” Laenor tells him as he makes his way closer into the room, his hands out in front of him, but the fire that burns in Aemonds eyes does not seem to go away at his words. 

“Just like you would never harm Visenya?” Aemond asks, his voice cold and full of venom like a snake.  “My wife and my children are the most important people to me, and I will not allow a man that abandoned his family to push any ideals onto my children,”

Laenor had fought in the Step Stones, yet as he stares down Aemond, he wonders what could make a man have such hatred towards a person. 

“I will tell you this once, leave this room and don’t come back. Visenya might have let you be in the same room as our children, but I will not,” Aemond informs Laenor.   “I will not let you disappoint another generation when you abandon them again,” 

Aemonds words cut deep into Laenor. 

They cut deep because they are the truth.  

Laenor may not have been the Velaryon's bastards father by blood, but they did hold his name.  They held his name after he left.  Jacaerys wore the name as he tried to prepare himself for the throne that he might one day hold.  Visenya wore the name when she fought in the Iron Islands.  Joffrey, who never knew him, still held the name with pride.  And Lucerys died being proud to hold the name.

Laenor had abandoned them, leaving them open for attacks from the vipers.  And Aemond, Aemond wants to make sure that his children have to go through that.  Never have to live with the thought that their parents didn’t love them, for his children to mourn them at such a young age.  

Aemond would protect his children with everything in him.  

He is a dragon of House Targaryen, and god's help anyone who tries to hurt his children.   

Especially Daemon Targaryen.  

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