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@shelteredheartsx

Two Slow Dancers – Mitski

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shelteredheartsx‌:

Hades let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. That may have been the most honest thing he had ever said to her apart from I do and I love you. He laid it all out on the line for her, she was the only person in the world he would let see him so open, so vulnerable. He relinquished his power all before her, all the control, all the time he spent trying to make things better himself instead of listening and doing what really would have made her happy.

But there was hurt there. Persephone was about as good at hiding it as he was. They were getting old, he knew that, but with age came knowledge, and he knew Persephone better than most things. He didn’t know what was wrong, part of him felt like he shouldn’t ask. But they promised each other honesty and openess…not to mention he had a burning desire to help her, whatever he troubles may be.

“I don’t mind walking…as long as you don’t mind telling me what’s on your mind lover.” He said, raising an eyebrow, but giving a kind smile, something he rarely gave to anyone. “Few milenia spent together dear, don’t you think I know when there’s something on your mind?” He teased lightly, his thumb grazing over her knuckles lightly as they began walking hand in hand. “You don’t have to tell me, I won’t push. I just worry about you, I hope you’re alright.”

"It's nothing we ain't talked about before, Hades, nothing you don't already know." She barely curbed her tongue from snapping out the platitude at him, impatience already starting to drag at her. Wasn't fair to him, wasn't even 'cause of him. He'd taken her hand, started walking with her side-by-side, was treating her with a gentle hold, bein' thoughtful. Trying. So should she.

His thumb rubbed across her knuckles, and she tried to focus on its simple feeling of comfort. It was an old gesture, nearly as old as their marriage... and maybe that's why she was trying but not getting anywhere. Persephone scowled, and hated it, and hated how he'd probably take it for him when it was for all the things in her head she couldn't make sense of buzzing loud as summer cicadas. She stepped in time with him for a while, trying to wrangle something down. Finally opened her own damn mouth when they turned the corner.

"Way we got married, all those years ago... I loved it. We didn't want for anything finer than the two of us and the dirt. It was just love, and it was easy." She tugged on his arm, and grit out the harder words between her teeth. "And all that should feel nice to reminisce about, but it just hurts thinking about how much harder it is now. I know where we've been and where I'd like us to be. There's all this shit in-between, and a — proper way of going about it." She waved the hand that wasn't clutching onto his wide - nearly smacked a passerby in the arm with it, and gave as good a stink-eye as she got - and all but growled out the word.

Silence but for the sounds of city-life around them fell again as she waited 'til she felt her temper cool, only fueled by feeling so wrong-footed. Persephone wrapped her other arm into his and pulled him a mite closer, trying to show him she didn't mean anything by her anger where it felt like her words only failed. Gods, but did she want for a drink to turn her tongue silver. "Lot of room to misstep 'round proper things," she continued, sour. "Lot more ways they can break. Just - thinking about all that drives me a little crazy, is all. We've a lot of air to clear, and we been better at fighting than talking." A muscle worked in her jaw, and she guided them through a back-alley shortcut. "You say I only ever wanted to leave Hadestown, and I just want to fight you on it. Then I remember that I shouldn't, and I don't really want to. But it feels easier than talking through it, but then that feels wrong too. I ain't saying it's a cycle that can be made heads-or-tails of."

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they took each other by the hand, and brother, they danced

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@lxst-children | hargreeves, v.

Securing an asset. After some of the gold wore off his Academy graduation and his badge'd earned a little tarnish, Phil'd been impressed with how simple his higher-ups had made it sound. Locate a potential asset, contain it, hope it didn't blow up in your face months down the line or expose their identity during a televised press release. All part of an agent's wheelhouse.

Those wheelhouses didn't exactly mention just how the hell they were supposed to be applied when you were suddenly delivered into - to the best of Phil's limited knowledge of hardcore sci-fi ( what could he say, he was more of a Star Wars guy ) - a parallel universe with no such, as he'd uncovered thus far, access to S.H.I.E.L.D. resources, but hey, what else was being an agent supposed to be all about? Alien threats dropped from the sky, not-gods-but-yeah-kind-of-gods skewered you through the gut. You worked with whatever you had at hand.

Even when what you had at hand was, apparently, an unusually effective violinist. Waste not, want not. Phil readjusted his hold on his umbrella - his fingers were feeling stiff these days, he wasn't getting that old was he? - and crossed the road to her, smiling pleasantly. "Miss Hargreeves? Do you have a moment?" he called, pitching his voice as loud as he could over the rain. Then grimaced. "Not - not a Jehovah's Witness, in case that helps. C&E Catholic, born and raised." If only his high school drama teacher could see him now. Play-acting, just another component of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s wheelhouse.

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shelteredheartsx‌:

Played by ear?

Where were the plans? The schedules, the itineraries? It was a pace he knew his wife to be fond of, but it was one he was not sure he could follow. But he would try, after all that’s what they promised each other. However, the idea filled him with anxiety, he didn’t realize just how little control he would have. While being consumed by his own thoughts, he failed to hide the furrowing of his brow, the stern lines in his face, and the subtle panic in his eyes. But once he snapped out of it, he tried his best to hide it all away, the last thing he wanted was to seem afraid.

“Lover I tried shaping our way and takin’ the reins a long time ago and look where it got us: with a town you only ever wanted to leave and a spring you rarely got to see. I think it’s about high time you steer us.“ Of course he was still anxious. He was a was a black and white figure in Persephone’s world of color, he had no idea what to do, and he didn’t know what to expect.

Must have been how she felt in Hadestown…

But she had followed him all those years ago, she had trusted him implicitly. He owed her the same respect, even in the face of uncertainty. “Persephone, this is your place, your night. I’m not gonna step in and bring order to a place that clearly thrives without it. I trust you, so if winging it is what you intend to do, then winging it is what I’ll try.” He said, feeling a bit more confident when he intertwined their hands. “If you’re steppin’ out, I’m right behind you.”

He only wished Orpheus had believed that of Eurydice.

That was the trouble of having a face so set in its expression she’d forgotten - for a good long while, almost too long - he could have any others. Her man was too serious by half, but a silly old thing if he honestly thought he could school the worry out of him without no one noticing. The coolness of the knob bit into her hand while she waited on him to work it out. Patience, be patient. She weren’t always too good at it, a damned girl like her. Always stuck tapping her toes on the next thing coming ‘round the bend.

She liked change, always had. She just couldn’t stand the waiting for it. And there he was, her husband, always waiting. A sickly kind of nervousness coiled itself in her belly as he thought, and thought, and nearly had her spitting vinegar. Spit it out while you still have time, she nearly told him - near about ruined everything - but thank everything too that his mouth finally opened and he worked out his mind aloud. Still had to bite her tongue to stop herself from interrupting, though ( heavens knew if she did, he’d probably never start again ). A town she only ever wanted to leave... That twinged. Rang something true, but still twinged. A balm came when Hades stepped up to her and twined their fingers together, became that man with steel to his spine for something she wanted, but... 

Persephone swallowed, raised up on legs she wished she could say were steadier beneath her than they were. Brought her face as close to his as she could without touching yet. “Thank you,” she said, and tried to push as much meaning into it as she could - all that meaning that choked in her throat and didn’t want to be said aloud. Thank you for trying ; thank you for following ; thank you for being patient, even when it’s more hell than the town we call home, even when I’m the one making it that way.

A taxi was likely waiting on them outside; she thought she could hear the rumbling of it right out the door. But she just wanted to hang here for a second in his space. She wanted it to settle her as much as it had him. Time was, it always had. Stroking her fingers across his jaw, Persephone sighed in the space between their lips... and finally twisted the knob beneath her palm, opening them up to the world. She stepped back, and trusted him to follow her. Outside, the night life was already bustling, and she let it bolster her. Just as she thought, a cab of bright yellow was idling right outside their door, but it sent her tapping her toes in thought. “ ...How you feel about walking?” she asked over her shoulder - still not looking at him, still trying to wait for his presence at her side. “There ain’t a right answer, I’m just askin’.”

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hey y’all!! this is already sent in to the main, but just so i have a note at the top of my blog — i’ll be on hiatus until the 18th of this month to focus on school ( i am a being of hubris, we already knew this ). so i’ll see y’all again then!

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@lxst-children | snicket, l.

L is for libraries, which are safe places for learning. Cresting the final flight and turning onto the landing, Kit all but seethed the trusted mnemonic under her breath. It was an old habit, an old trick of training from a patient chaperone who tried to make the best out of an apprentice who preferred to act before thinking became an undesired obstacle in her way. She had been trying it since her finger, tracing reluctantly ( and with no small amount of hopeful disbelief ) along the shelves of the children's section, stuttered and stalled at Snicket-comma-L. 

Kit couldn't say she was experiencing much success. ( L is for little brothers, who could be more than a little exasperating. ) The straps of her satchel, holding more children's books than she'd carried with her since her short stint at Prufrock Preparatory, slipped off her shoulder, and she stopped just to growl that little bit louder and forcefully readjust them back into place. She moved down the hall without much care for quiet as she scanned for his door. L is for Lemony, who - for the first time since they were adolescents, perhaps, or even children - was possibly the last person she wanted to see. Under the curdling frustration still laid a sharp pang of watching her sibling turn to her with unknowing eyes. Not so terrible as thinking him dead for most of their adulthood, but a close thing. 

Ah, there he was. Reshouldering her bag once again, Kit rapped sharply on his door, calling out, “Lem — Mr. Snicket — ” She stymied, already caught between sibling and stranger. “ ...I’d like to speak with you for a moment. Would you please come to the door?” 

A pause, and then, with no small measure of exasperation - as though she’d suddenly remembered who she was talking to - “So help me L., if you climb out your window I will spread a layer of thumbtacks so thoroughly under its sill that the next time you’re met with someone outside your door who actually means you harm you will find your escape definitively more difficult.”

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shelteredheartsx‌:

Hades couldn’t understand it. He thought that was custom, that if someone gets you something you give them something back. He wanted to give her something back. She didn’t need anything from him…it was hard for him to process. In his mind he thought she should be showered with gifts, to show her just how much he cared. Maybe that would just have to change as well…but it still didn’t set right with him.

“Well…if that’s what you need then I shall certainly provide.” After all he had married her, that was a binding promise he intended on keeping. They were gods, they took the “to death do us part” vow to heart, being immortal meaning they were linked for enterity. But linked to the most beautiful woman in the world didn’t sound half bad to Hades. He smiled at her before smiling back down at the carnation…maybe this was a sign that things were going to work out this time, that maybe this world was a blessing. No six month time restraint, no godly duties to fulfill…maybe this world was giving them the time they needed to heal. Maybe that was what he had to give his wife, more time, time together…Hades didn’t have all the pieces of the puzzle put together, but some were falling in line enough to get an idea of the full picture.

“Although you never did offically tell me what you have in store for me tonight Persephone. All I know is that I promised you a dance…perhaps more than one if you can forgive me for stepping on your feet.” He teased before offering his hand to help her of the keg. “And if I recall correctly, you promised a song.” He smiled smugly, one hand still pressed behind his back.

If she listened closely - and oh, she was trying - she thought she could hear the whirring of his mind. His methodical, mechanical music of tryin' to put the world into place. Persephone waited it out, only the tightening grip on his tie betraying her impatience. But he got there. There was that tiny little crack of a smile, splitting his stone-made expression open; the flattest joke, but tossed out at his own expense instead of someone else's.

'Bout time he learn how to do his own damn books, she mused, and grinned back. "Did I?" she said, feigning ignorance. It broke fast as she took his hand and hopped back off the keg with his help. Now didn't this feel familiar. Weren't it for the absence of a hat crushed in wringing hand behind his back, and a suit far too put together for summer heat, he might as well have been inviting her out past Mama's garden gates. They were gettin' old, she supposed, and he of some older'n most. Made sense that he'd be a little stuck in his ways. Persephone was just grateful he'd gotten on the path back to these ones. "You'd better keep your toes in-line, then," she continued - winked at him and checked him with her hip as she passed by him to the back door.

At the threshold, she paused; her hand closed around the doorknob, but she didn't twist to lead them out to the alley beyond. There came a small swoop in her belly, knocking her off-kilter for a moment. Persephone half-turned back to him. "I didn't make any greater devices than this, Hades." She felt like she owed him that warning. Methodical, mechanical mind. Her grip tightened on the knob, hand hidden behind her back as she raised her chin, looking back to him askingly. "That's not my way. So if I'm steerin' us through this night, like it seems you're asking me — we ain't gonna be going along to any bigger plan. We're gonna be headed out, and it's all gonna be played by ear. You think that’s something you’re going to be able to keep up with?"

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@bluesupes

Pulling to idle beside the sidewalk at the sight of a beckoning arm, Kit sank into the worn leather of the driver’s seat and felt the bundle of tension that had gathered between her shoulder blades in the weeks since the masque unravel some. Though she would never be able to maintain it as a regular occupation as Jacques did, sliding behind the wheel of a taxi cleared her head in the exact way that complicated emotional entanglements and Italian recipes did not. Everything was just so much simpler; routes were predictable ( or, when not, with immediate solution through creative use of the term “shortcut” ), destinations were finite. The greatest mystery asked of her was the identity of her passenger -- a taxi, as it was said, would pick up any who asked for one. Kit rolled down the window and made to greet him before her jaw snapped shut with an audible click. The similarities were wholly superficial, but… well, the past months’ peculiarities had her on edge, and long-dead friends suddenly ( and most inexplicably ) returned to life were hardly the furthest thing from her mind. And he really did look so much like B.

The B. who had apprenticed under her brother’s chaperone and could be expected to play pranks in elevators, that was, not the accomplished baticeer and subject of many of that same brother’s long-winded soliloquies. Kit blinked, and shook the shadow of their friend’s face out of her eyes as she smiled, polite if distanced, as she asked, “Where to?”

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Critical Role › Vax’ildan

An outsider since birth, Vax quickly learned to solve life’s challenges in his own particular way, often by sidestepping them entirely. And when his knack for circumventing adversity isn’t enough, the way of blades the elves schooled him in more than makes up the difference.

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“Chant II,” Hadestown (requested by anon)

Have a musical theater lyric you want an edit for? Tell me it here!

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five seasons of: 🛡️phil ‘agent’ coulson🛡️

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“The night has a thousand eyes. And the day but one; yet the light of the bright world dies with the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, and the heart but one: yet the light of a whole life dies when love is done.”

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shelteredheartsx·:

Hades brow furrowed, not used to being in such a setting. He eyed his wife, who looked as full of mischief as ever as she hopped up on one of the kegs. He followed her, hands fumbling nervously behind his back so she wouldn’t see. He studied her face, hoping he could figure out what was going on in that ever turning head of hers. Needless to say he failed, making his heart thump in his chest.

But the flower…oh. To anyone else this would have just been a simple carnation, but to him it was a reminder of what he had been long ago, and what he aimed to be now. It was the flower of Orpheus, the man that Hades had come to, if anything, respect. It was a reminder that he had to be better, and despite his tense entry into her place, he knew he had to at least try to enjoy himself. Part of winning back his wife was accepting what she held dear, he knew that now.

“I doubt that I could ever match you in beauty Persephone, but I’m glad to be tied to you in appearance, thank you. Have to admit though…I might look out of place being tied to the most beautiful woman in the bar.” He said with a soft laugh, peering down at the flower that looked so fitting with his vest. He kissed her hand to show his appreciation before he gave a sudden frown. “I…I came empty handed, I’m sorry I don’t have anything to offer you. I’ll make it up to you, you have my word.” And it hadn’t been the first time he had spoken those words to her, but he had hoped the first time he said it to her all those years ago would have been the last. Not only was the poor man empty handed, but he was used to giving gifts, not receiving them. It was an odd feeling…certainly not one he was used to.

“Is there anything I can get you while I’m here to make amends for my lack of a gift at the present?” He asked, hoping his wife would not be too discouraged that he had come unprepared. His fear was irrational of course, but all the same Hades wished he could do something to repay her for such a kindness.

Hope was supposed to be this tentative, fine-feathered thing, fluttering in the hearts of gods and men alike - but Persephone didn't know flying things. What she knew came deep-rooted in the earth, so to her hope felt grounded; the possibility in newly seeded ground, the stubborn wherewithal of sprouts reaching for the sun no matter how far down they were buried. The seconds Hades kept quiet, looking down to his vest, stretched into minutes, hours, days, and centuries. Some small part of her, still seething and licking ages-old wounds, waited for him to jerk out of her grasp, crush the flower in his hard and heavy hand.

The bigger part of her kept still, hardly breathing 'til he finally broke with a soft chuckle and turned to kiss her hand. She laughed then, utter relief - lookit the pair of them, not so hopeless after all - and shook her head at him. "Ain't that just presumptuous of you, when you haven't even seen where we're headed yet. Just as easy that I'll be the one outta place." Not too likely, she was assuming, knowing Hades, but just as easy. 

Her mood couldn't even be swayed when he frowned again. Persephone only shook her head again, wrapped her fingers around his tie and gently pulled him in closer to her. "When am I finally gonna get it through that thick skull of yours?" she mused, and oh, this was an old ache too: chains of gold, shackles of silver, weights of precious stones. Gifts to bind. But in this moment, the bruise didn't hurt so bad that she shied away from it - or snapped at him over its wound. 

She kept her tone matter-of-fact as she continued, "It's just a given thing. And I'm happy you're happy with it, I am, but it doesn't carry some great expectation with it. There ain't no overhead, no bargain to cut. I don't want or need anything from you." There was some bite to those last words, but she tried to soothe it some by twining his fingers with hers. "'Cept for you to just stay by my side, when we can. That's the only promise I hope for out of you."

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MCU Meme | 2 Weapons: Coulson’s Energy Shield (½)

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mMKAY no fried router or Hell Descent Towards Graduation is going to stop me from having a Good Time, so plot/starter call for any of the babes! feel free to either leave a reply w/ whatever muse combo you’d like or just hmu!!

persephone / percy koren (HADESTOWN)

vax’ildan (CRITICAL ROLE)

kit snicket (ASOUE)

phil coulson (MARVEL)

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Spotted at Grand Central, bags in hand, CLARK GREGG. No, that’s a mistake. It’s PHIL COULSON, they are a CANON CHARACTER and come from MARVEL. They are FORTY-SEVEN and I’ve heard they are GENUINE, as well DOGMATIC. They happen to hold THEIR memories. Don’t believe me? See for yourself.

welcome to new york! what is your character’s name?

son boy allowed phillip j. “phil” coulson. occasionally called phillip son of coul, jamie flugelman, or just plain agent

where / when have they been pulled from in their fandom?

/jester lavorre voice technically from the end of agents of shield, season 5 - so phil vanished off into his swan song w/ may, actually going to tahiti this time and finally dying a peaceful death on his own terms. for purposes of what he remembers, sometime after the avengers and just before agents of shield began

do they have a job, and if so - what is it?

yes, and nothing exciting; phil’s back to using skills he learned under S.H.I.E.L.D.’s academy of communications, working an office job and doing statistical analysis. it’s pretty awful, but it pays the bills and makes sure he has a place to stay while he’s working out what fresh hell he’s gotten dragged into this time and learning to live without S.H.I.E.L.D. as his 24/7 again

what with the curse and all, how has your character’s life changed?

phil coulson’s got a hole in his memories again, and again he’s left hardly recognizing it. when phil was brought through, he lost all memories past Project T.A.H.I.T.I. 

for as far as he’s aware, after loki killed him he was dead for a short, but generally indeterminate amount of time - maybe eight seconds, maybe eight minutes (though it feels longer) - before nick was able to get to him and help get him revived and into recovery. in reality, phil was dead for days before nick ordered him to be revived under the most extreme of measures: Project T.A.H.I.T.I., a Clearance 10 S.H.I.E.L.D. program phil had once overseen that was researching whatever medicine would be necessary to revive a fallen Avenger. those who had previously gone under the operations had been driven mad, and after coulson began showing the same symptoms all memories related to Project T.A.H.I.T.I. were erased out of him, and he was given new ones that have him remembering recovering in actual tahiti for months while the Avengers were led to believe he’d died for real. eventually, coulson was reinstated to active duty, and the last thing he remembers was speaking with maria hill and director fury about possibly setting up a small, highly-trained team of agents to tackle unusual, unclassified cases

is there any other information about your character that members might find helpful?

how much of phil only remembering up until right before agents of shield starts is me sweat-dropping about how long it’s been since i’ve watched aos u ask? most of it, 100% well done!! as i get to watching thru again, more will probably start to bleed through. this is my own damn fault for basically just peacing out after s2, and u know what i’m cool w/ that

so, yeah. not only is he unaware of The AOS Fam apart from may and maybe knowing of the rest’s ( daisy obvs excluded ) files, but he isn’t aware of S.H.I.E.L.D. being half-HYDRA or anything following ca: winter soldier either, bc. idk that’s fun fam, i get to use my own ignorance for fun for once!! and just wait ‘til he finds out he’s now part cyborg man

obviously, this phil will also be disregarding anything that comes up in aos s6 as well esp as we’re p sure that’s not even Real Phil