#I have been a weirdo my entire life and somehow have ways been able to find connection | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

extraordinaryhistories · 5 months ago

Text

#23 - 'Damascus' (non-album track, 2001)

I have never quite been able to find my way around ‘Damascus’. Since I first delved into the cadre of Sufjan deep cuts, ‘Damascus’ always felt to me like a forbidden fruit – a song with some sort of deeper power that, try as I might, I could never quite access. There’s something strange here. Let’s try to discover it.

‘Damascus’ was released on a 2001 charity compilation album called Seen Unseen (A Benefit For the Evergreen Center For Street Youth). Looking at the tracklist in retrospect, as with other contemporaneous releases on which you’ll tend to find these bits and bobs, Sufjan is the only name on here of any current notoriety. It’s odd to imagine a time where Sufjan was just ‘a member of his class’, so to speak – one of a crop of other softly spoken folk musicians, not at all regarded as the scene’s wonderkid. This was just before Fleet Foxes, before Iron and Wine, before craft beers and plaid shirts and plucked guitars became the centre of everything that was hip, but it was welling up. Slowly, it was welling up. And you can see it on a compilation like this one, and you can see it on Sufjan’s sudden change of tack around the turn of the millennium – weirdo outsider trading in every genre under the sun becomes increasingly committed to his acoustic guitar, and begins to write more earnest, serious songs like ‘Damascus’.

About that earnestness. ‘Damascus’ is a true lyrical labyrinth, one of the most maximal and yet least specific songs that Sufjan would produce around this time. I have struggled with this one for as long as I have known it; just about every line feels obscure, but I never feel as if we are trading in true nonsense here. It’s a song with a real sense of intent to me – it is long, layered and remarkably straight-faced, with every line delivered passionately, heavily. But to where is that passion directed? What is it about?

Perhaps we can most safely break down ‘Damascus’ by talking about it in broad, emotional terms – what these lines, attached to their music, are trying to make us feel. There’s plenty of feeling in said music, and very little of it is contented. You can hear it from minute one, right there in that determined, sort of anxious set of acoustic chords, unambiguously minor in their tonality (‘Damascus’ is in A Minor and only uses the white keys in its chords.) Same with that scenery-chewing little piano lick, a heavily-emphasised part of the song, elevated by Sufjan’s vocal melody mirroring it on the ‘takes me back’ line. The whole affair feels secure, but dejected somehow, like the drudgery of a life condemned.

And it stretches on. For a while, actually. It’s four minutes and forty five seconds of pure melodrama, a language spoken in guitar, in banjo, in organ, in drums. It’s actually one of Sufjan’s more uncharacteristically generic arrangements, in the sense that I could easily see many other artists making a song that sounds precisely like this one. The rather standard drum part and reliable mid-tempo feel situates ‘Damascus’ unambiguously in folk rock territory, and though you can say this about a handful of other Sufjan songs, the later examples (like ‘Springfield’) are supported by maturity and the sense of an artist at the height of their songwriting powers. If ‘Damascus’ has a weakness, it is that this one feels a lot longer than it actually is. Not necessarily in a positive sense, either. It plods, and plods, and plods.

Perhaps that’s fitting. This is a song that deals extensively with transfer. Transfer of bodies, transfer of information, transfer of power, without bearing to whether that transfer is consensual or not. Desperation pours out of nearly every line in this song, especially in a chorus anchored by the lines ‘it takes me back against the everglades / Back against the out-of-state’ – we see immediately how our protagonist is a transient one, who exists entirely on the fringes of civilised society. They are displaced and in need of refuge (ideas perhaps even more relevant today than they were in 2001). The verbiage also puts them consistently in the role of object, never of subject; similar to the protagonist of ‘Kill’ only being able to reclaim any agency at all by wanting, ‘Damascus’ is a song more of ‘it takes me’, less a song of ‘I go’. A typically cheery Sufjan song topic, then: weakness, fear, subjugation. Every ounce of that drudgery that comes with displacement is here, musically and lyrically.

If we’re talking broad emotional strokes, though, there are just as many strokes of resentment on this canvas. Plenty of them, too. It’s reminiscent of ‘Kill’ in that sense, but while the narrator of ‘Kill’ crumbles before their massive, unavoidable id, the narrator of ‘Damascus’ resents their master’s ideology. Words and ideas are this song’s primary battleground. Lines like ‘do you know the adversary / And carry all the burdens of peoples' pasts?’ feel discursive in tone – even the choice of the words ‘adversary’, ‘sanctuary’ and even ‘border temple’ seem out-of-time somehow, like we are trapped in the centre of some grand generational Socratic dialogue with immense stakes for the asker. Our protagonist is reacting to another’s ideas with revulsion, knowing that those ideas will only lead to their perdition. It is a very studied revulsion, though, conveyed through distant, foggy verses and an instrumental that has all the intensity and thrill of the owner’s manual that comes with your washing machine. But for a song that represents the long, slow trudge following an intellectual defeat, that’s sort of the point, isn’t it?

Okay. The elephant in the room, which I’ve been doggedly trying to avoid for setup reasons. ‘Damascus’ is a very religious song. Most every song from this era is a very religious song, granted; this one, though, is a little more complicated than the others. The title makes it clear that this song is about Paul the Apostle, who, in Acts 9, receives a vision of Jesus on the road to Damascus. Paul, a Pharisee, was travelling to Damascus with the intent of persecuting Christians there; the appearance of Jesus engendered in him a newfound devotion that led to his becoming one of the most significant figures in theological history.

This is far from the first time that Sufjan has focused in on a specific Biblical story and used it to argue a point on what it means to be faithful (or, hell, what it means to be human.) But it is the first time that Sufjan has allowed shades of gloom to seep into his faith. So far, we’ve seen the joy of Christianity; we’ve seen the awe of Christianity; we’ve seen the rage of Christianity. We’ve not seen the sadness of Christianity. We will see it plenty in his future songwriting, but until we reach Seven Swans: oil, meet water.

This context, at least, explains the motif of movement that underpins ‘Damascus’. Movement figures massively into the experience of being a Christian. Paul is converted at a moment of travel – Damascus is literally the ‘last place’ he goes as a heathen – and many devout have metaphorized faith as being akin to a journey that reaches no end until after death. That leaves us to account for how everything else in this song, including its emotional tenor, relates to the story of Paul the Apostle specifically. As far as I can figure, ‘Damascus’ lends itself to three possible interpretations vis-à-vis Paul.

Interpretation number one: the narrator of ‘Damascus’ is Sufjan, and this song is actually quite straightforward. He is directly addressing either Paul or God, making reference to Paul’s journey as an analogue of his own – a sinner embracing the ‘approaching light’ of salvation. Direct address to God is not uncommon for Sufjan, so this interpretation would be the most precedented. To me, though, it doesn’t hold water. There are too many antiquated phrases and references (‘border temple’, for one) to make me think of this song as anything but situated in Paul’s time.

Interpretation number two: the narrator of ‘Damascus’ is Paul himself, and the aforementioned emotional tenor here is not one of resentment but of fear. This would make ‘Damascus’ a very rare song in Sufjan’s work written from the perspective of a specific cultural figure. Paul is therefore speaking directly to the Lord at a moment where he is set to abandon every precept on which was constructed his sense of self. Naturally, he is terrified. The appearance of a messiah that he so firmly rejected chips away at his hard-line Judaism (‘Does the border temple fall down / I fall down / When the approaching light in me has stayed’) and leads him to feverish questioning (‘Do you float the sanctuary?’) Ultimately Sufjan tries – and, depending on your opinion of the song, succeeds at – extracting the scared, awed Saul of Tarsus from the costume of Paul the Apostle, a man who retreats ‘back against the everglades’ as an escape from his fears. Which, when you’re brought face-to-face with the creator of all mankind, does not seem so unreasonable.

Interpretation number three and the one that I find most interesting: the narrator of ‘Damascus’ is not Sufjan nor Paul, but a Pharisee whose life is thrown into turmoil by a Gentile Christianity. This interpretation would best explain the pangs of resentment that echo through the song. Suddenly, Paul is recast not as saviour but as terroriser, embodying a sort of theological colonialism that literally and figuratively displaced Jews who did not convert. The narrator wonders whether Paul has the license to speak on behalf of an entire people (‘Do you know the adversary? / And carry all the burdens of peoples' pasts?’), but it is all for naught. The border temple as fallen down; they have fallen down. They have no choice but to leave their community, refugees taken ‘back against the out-of-state’ where they will remain forever dispossessed. ‘Damascus’ is an empathetic portrayal of early Christianity’s victims, written by a real-life musician who aligns ideologically with their tormentors. That tension is key to the song’s power.

I speak as if I have any idea what this song is about, but I do not. I could see one of those interpretations, all of those interpretations, or none of those interpretations being correct. All these words in and I find myself no more able to taste the forbidden fruit. A song with this sort of deep, heavy seriousness to it, though, deserves a deep, heavy attempt at analysis. Maybe ‘Damascus’ has a little too much of all of that in it – even its fans (all three of them) won’t deny that Sufjan has made more engaging music than this. It is nothing if not a little theological puzzle box, though, and if some more ears found their way to it, perhaps one of us, one day, will crack the code.

#music #sufjan stevens #sufjan #folk music #christianity #damascus #paul the apostle #a life of transience #soft colonialism

6 notes · View notes

quillyfied · 1 year ago

Text

Hellaverse Theories: Hazbin Hotel S1E8

Welcome to Quilly’s Hellaverse Theories, where I overthink the entire Hellaverse! Last episode of Hazbin time, and after this I’ll start on Helluva Boss (which shouldn’t be nearly as long but I am a windbag so who knows). Let’s go!!

Hazbin Hotel s1e8, here we go:

And here we go again with Vox and his complete reasonable obsession with Alastor and anyone who associates with him, love that for Vox, truly. Best life: he’s living it. But it’s also kinda scary how comprehensive a view Vox has of everyone and everything; we know this already, but watching him watching the Hotel just sort of feels…more violating. Because of audience bonding with the characters, really, but still. There’s a reason why the Vees are a terrifying force to be reckoned with and its real-world reflections make me too sad and full of impotent rage to manage so let’s move on.

Charlie wishing her mom could see this! Sweet! Valid! Somehow super sad knowing where her mom is but not knowing why!!

Well. Vaggie straight-up calls them all “sinners.” So for me that pretty handily puts the “are cannibals sinners” debate to bed. For a while, at least; I’m still gonna be double-checking the blood spatter when the battle starts.

Yeah Pentious giving the grand toast to not dying, I’m not. I’m not emotional. I’m fine.

So this little scene with Alastor and Niffty…intriguing. Seems to show a softer side of Alastor, one where he hangs up the scheming for one minute and admits he’s been enjoying himself, enjoying these people (for their interpersonal drama entertainment value if nothing else). It’s funny and it’s sweet and definitely shows why Niffty sticks with Alastor on the off chance he doesn’t own her soul. And it also has me not completely convinced that when Alastor gets the chance to accomplish his goals by betraying everyone at the Hotel, he isn’t going to feel some level of conflict about it. Getting a character who believes so completely in their own infallibility to crack: the ultimate Good Narrative Food.

(nope hang on angel and husk are flirting pause the analysis have to go squeal about it—)

(I’m a veteran of the Good Omens (TV) fandom and got pulled into watching a snake and reptile care youtube, I know about snake hemipenes, why is the mention that Pentious might have them taking me out at the kneecaps)

Lute being Too Much for Adam never ceases to make me laugh. Or remember that she definitely deserves to be a main villain, at least for a little while. (Alright her name is Lute because “lieutenant” but for the longest time I thought her name was Lute as in “guitar-like instrument” because Adam WOULD, that weirdo; I choose to believe it’s both tbh.) Lute is someone who is way more a foil for Vaggie than anyone else right now, and the absolute struggle in her future is making me excited. ALL ABOARD THE STRUGGLE BUS, LUTE.

I’m sorry I just paused to make another note of something but it’s flown OUT OF MY ENTIRE HEAD because I just realized HUSK AND ANGEL ARE BOTH CRACKING THEIR KNUCKLES AT THE SAME TIME AS THE EXORCISTS APPROACH. WHAT WAS I SAYING??

Right. Vaggie. Got her new wings, and it’s interesting to me that she immediately hides them. Even more interesting to me that she CAN immediately hide them; none of the angels ever seem to, if they even can. That seems a little more…demonic in nature. Because Lucifer certainly can. Sera and Emily change their forms slightly, but the wings stay out at all times (mainly bc it seems Heaven is specifically formed around being able to get around with them on, especially the courtroom). Just one more way that Vaggie is embracing her new life, I suppose.

And here come the Vees, safe in whatever bunker they’ve got, and once again I can’t stress enough how Vox seems to be the only one with any interest in the proceedings. The other two are treating it like Vox dragged them to a sports event that he’s super into and they’re just along for moral support at best. The utter boredom of it all is something I can’t fathom. But I’ll try: this means nothing to them. The Hotel means nothing. The Extermination means nothing because they can just hide from it while the rest of Hell gets slaughtered. They’re cold-blooded ruthless manipulators who might be about to give Lucifer a run for his money if they aren’t stopped. I look forward to season 2 very much. Because on a grand scale, the Vees mean NOTHING. Their games are PETTY SQUABBLES. They don’t rank on the cosmic horror scale because the fight is so much bigger than they are. But they can sure throw wrenches into things!

ALRIGHT HERE WE GO THE PRODUCT OF MY MANY THEORIES ABOUT OVERLORD MECHANICS AND ALASTOR SPECIFICALLY: the shield moment. They seem to be expecting it to happen, so Alastor knew he could do it, but it’s my firm belief that he couldn’t until he made the deal with Charlie. He figured out that he can get powerups just from making deals themselves, or else has been doing it better than anyone else if it’s a known thing, and Charlie isn’t a slouch in the power department. So that’s my theory: Alastor is only able to go toe-to-toe with Adam at all because he’s borrowing a little taste of Charlie’s power from their deal. He’s already plenty powerful, and maybe he could do the shield the whole time, but I do think the deal with Charlie was made at a very opportune time, and Alastor probably only agreed to take on Adam solo because of his overconfidence in himself now boosted with having some of Charlie’s power. I only really have a gut feeling to provide as a source for this, because the only one who proves up to facing Adam is Lucifer; Alastor made a good call, possibly recruiting more of Charlie’s power more directly in a deal when he did, but Charlie isn’t a match for Adam, either, so Alastor very much couldn’t be. He has the speed and the skill to definitely give Adam a bad time, but he can’t withstand the power. Charlie doesn’t have the skill, but she could have the power in time. Lucifer…well, he’s an unfair powerhouse, deus ex machina in a top hat and resolving daddy issues, and we love that for him.

Anyway. Shield. Angels finding out in a very nasty way they can be killed. Adam being his usual misogynistic self. And then Adam deciding he’s over it and obliterating the shield in one punch.

I get the feeling that Adam really doesn’t do much during Exterminations beyond laugh and make tasteless jokes while occasionally smiting demons that get too close or look fun to squash. Because he just effortlessly whips out these shows of power that nobody seems to be able to account for, which makes me think it’s because nobody has ever seen Adam actually try and fight in earnest before. Following the theme of the show, they’re hopelessly outmatched (outgunned outmanned outnumbered outplanned I’M SORRY), and manage to pull a win out of their asses anyway thanks to the power of Love (and pulling Lucifer out of his millennia-long funk for at least half an hour), which Adam very clearly doesn’t have. But. Who needs Love when you have whatever terrifying powerup the higher-ups saw fit to give him?

“A mortal soul is no match for me, edgelord.” Okay. Okay. Here we go. So…Adam isn’t a mortal soul…despite being the first human soul in Heaven. He wields divine light and has a divine axe. Lilith isn’t a mortal soul despite being the original first woman, rules as Queen of Hell when she’s at home, and has an inspiring voice and song to grow Hell’s strength. It’s safe to say that someone else granted them these powerups (Sera/the Seraphim for Adam, Lucifer for Lilith). So…let’s look at Alastor again, just for a sec. He demonstrates ability far beyond what we see any other Overlord or demon do, seems to know his way around deals and loopholes like the slipperiest lawyer in existence, and his rise to infamy was meteoric. It’s a popular theory that instead of Lilith, the person holding the other end of Alastor’s leash is Roo, especially given the repeating eye motif that he has in his magic, but I wonder if Roo isn’t giving him a power-up already, and the deal where he’s caged is something else. If the two are separate in some way.

“You should know better than anyone what a soul can accomplish when they take charge of their own fate.” Now THAT…throws a very different spin on the theory, actually. If Adam and Lilith weren’t gifted their abilities, but took them, Lilith drawing from Hell and Adam from Heaven. If nobody gave either of them anything at all, but they found ways to elevate themselves. Or…made deals, perhaps? Either way, Alastor seems well on his way to becoming something Else just like they are, but. He isn’t there yet. Hence the need to make a deal with Charlie and stick close to her and her budding power. Hence why Alastor couldn’t take on Adam yet.

Y’know. I haven’t mentioned or noticed Alastor’s shadow much. But it certainly is a huge part of his power. Just like the microphone staff, which is broken now oh nooooo. But back to the shadow—the combination of the shadow plus the voodoo aspect of Alastor’s powers are a bit too much Dr. Facilier for comfort (which is hysterical given that Keith David is right there voicing Husk), but the tentacles add a nice touch. Although all of that, plus the deer aspect, plus the possible cannibalism and serial murder, plus the radio—does it seem like Alastor might have too much going on? Because I’m wondering how much of that is his, and how much is alternative powerups from other deals. He made his name as an Overlord killer, after all—and as an Overlord himself, owning souls grants power. I’m certain that whatever supply he’s high on, it’s the only way he was able to survive being first hit by pure holy light, and then cut down by Adam like that. So it must be working for him—but not well enough.

There is something so comedically horrific about how Adam just…vaporizes Pentious, war machine and all. It seems to be a pretty effective death; however, I do have to wonder how it would affect Pentious’ ability to be redeemed if it was angelic steel that got him instead of holy light. Either way, confirming that there are multiple ways to kill demons, angelic steel is just the most straightforward, and wow he’s just wholly gone now, huh? Not even any debris or a body or anything.

(Putting this theory up while I’m thinking about it: concerning Charlie’s deal with Alastor, and specifically the “one favor where you harm no one” bit, a part of me thinks that Alastor is going to have Charlie stand aside and let him kill someone…just to prove that they can be redeemed. Whether that’s Alastor’s purpose or not in killing is up for constant debate in my head, but I do want it made very clear that Pentious wasn’t redeemed until he died. Demonic redemption might require double death; maybe the souls are re-judged on double death anyway. Who knows??)

HEY, BLOOD THEORY CONFIRMATION: Dazzle (gosh I hope I got that right) bleeds black. He’s Hellborn. There IS differentiation in blood colors given in this show. NICE.

So why the ENTIRE HELL does Charlie bleed RED?

It’s subtle, it could be written off as her horns, but it’s there in certain shots; she’s bleeding from the head after Adam throws her into the hotel sign, definite drips that aren’t her horns at all, or bloodstains from possibly being close to cannibals who died. And it’s red. Why is it red? Why does she bleed red like sinners, Viv? WHY DOES SHE BLEED RED, VIV?

Because here’s the only thing I can think of: that means one, she DOES have a soul (an immortal soul, like Adam says, mechanic not metaphor), because two, she might be something close to half-human, or at least half-sinner, or half-whatever the actual hell Lilith is. This makes her powerful, but also incredibly vulnerable, just the same as sinners are with their souls. And it puts her more on their level; she isn’t some above-it-all royal that’s something entire Other from the sinners, she’s sort of partially one of them. (Not to say she doesn’t still have her royal privilege and so forth and et cetera let’s move on.)

Alright Vaggie hiding away her wings is kinda worth it for the badass blink-and-you-miss-it tearing open of the back of her battle uniform to let them out. And, uh, can we give Jessica Vosk ALL the credit for that absolutely unhinged Lute scream as she TEARS HER OWN ARM OFF??

(Also, to the legend who wrote the Lute’s Arm/Vaggie’s Eye fanfic: I didn’t read it but I think of you often.)

But: Lute and Vaggie setting up to be tragic narrative foils, most likely complete with Lute spiraling as she completely loses any sense of self or direction while her world crumbles around her and Vaggie going from suspicious to pitying. When the truth about how fucked up the Exorcist legion is comes out, I’m sure there’s going to be signs about how they were both hurt pretty deeply by being a part of it but handled it differently, Vaggie by being lucky enough to find a support group after she was kicked out and Lute struggling with carrying on the legacy alone. Also, calling it now, if Emily doesn’t Fall, then Lute is definitely gonna try to kill her at least once. Anyway. That’s probably super endgame stuff.

LUCIFER, DEUS EX MACHINA! Or. Uh. Diaboli ex machina? Eh who cares LOOK AT HIM GO. It’s such a fun fight, watching him zing around Adam and shapeshift and be all creative and zany. Right up until it matters—and then he’s all business. Fiery, deadly business. Also how did he get his voice to do that (the “you’re in my house now, bitch” part, not the “go home” part). But it’s such an important moment for witnessing that dreamer that Heaven cast out, the creative powerhouse that just wanted to make something nice, something meaningful. Adam can’t fight him because Lucifer isn’t really fighting. He’s playing. Right up until Adam threatens Charlie again. She’s the only thing worth fighting for to him, after all.

So very interesting to me too that when Lucifer is in his demon aspect, the snake on his hat becomes a halo. (Also, unlike the other Sins, he doesn’t get any taller. Bless him.)

Now. Let’s address the elephant—or, rather, the very small cyclops—in the room. Niffty killing Adam. It’s certainly a twist. It’s the biggest, weirdest twist I’ve ever seen. It kind of doesn’t make any narrative sense. It boggles the brain that Niffty, the littlest demon in the group, the bit side character, gets to kill Adam, the big bad of the season. But in a way…that’s kind of perfect? It DOESN’T make any narrative sense. LIFE doesn’t make narrative sense. Not everything is going to fit into a perfect metaphor. Although, if I tried…Niffty took out the biggest cockroach of all :P Alright I’ll be honest I don’t know. I’d love to read other people’s thoughts on why it happened like this. Because it’s not like I don’t enjoy it as a narrative choice, it’s just so jarring and my English major brain hasn’t made it make sense yet.

Such an unexpectedly tender character moment to have Adam’s dying smile be for Lute, though. Yeah, she’s gonna be REAL hecked up next season. And not because she’s way more homicidal than Adam somehow.

(Also, back to my blood color theory: cannibals bleed red. They’re sinners. Stop the debates, it’s canon and I can prove it now. Kinda. Still got the whole. Charlie bleeding red thing throwing a wrench into my everything.)

And we see some of the littler pieces to finish off a lot of my theories—the Vees’ ultimate plan to seize control of Hell going off pretty well despite the Hotel surviving (not that it mattered to them either way, the plan was to throw the other Overlords off their game and take their stuff, not mess with the Hotel at all); Husk and Niffty going about their days but looking surprised with the rest of the group when Alastor shows back up (and still uncertain if they knew he was alive or dead and if they even would know if he died tbh). But let’s take one last little peep at Alastor before I close the book on him for now.

Y’know. They really do make it unclear if it’s Alastor Altruist, or Alastor, altruist.

But more than that, it’s the first time he acknowledges his deal and the fact that his powers are limited—which is why he might use non-soul deals with others anyway, to get around his soul deal constraints. And if he’s LIMITED and he went to bat against Adam and held his own pretty well, maybe I need to rethink my own assessment of his strength and how he’s leashed (unless, of course, the theories are right and it’s a deal with Lilith keeping him constrained from using his powers except in her service, so he really was at maximum potential in that fight and just isn’t strong enough yet). But he’s confident (as he always is) that once he’s out of his deal, he’ll be where he wants to be, pulling strings and manipulating fates and probably strong enough to replace Lucifer (and wouldn’t it be twisty if Alastor used his favor with Charlie to let him kill and replace her father as King of Hell? Wild. Anyway—). But until then, he’s showing back up at the hotel after it’s been rebuilt, sans staff, and while fanon has latched onto the idea of his wound containing angelic essence that’s slowly killing him…I’m not so sure if canon is going to go that route, but his missing staff is probably way more significant than the wound, and I’m curious about that.

Now forget about these losers, let’s go check out the last two scenes and put proper bows on my last two theories.

First: Pentious, redeemed, showing up before the Seraphim and NOT at the heavenly gates. Convenient for keeping something this reality-shaking a secret! I still don’t know that I’m fully convinced that Sir Pentious is truly the first sinner to be redeemed; I still kinda think he’s just the first one that Sera and Emily noticed, but I’m looking forward to exploring that mystery more next season. Maybe with Molly as an actual character this time? The folks who keep drawing and writing about Molly and Pentious being friends, you’re legends, keep doing that; it will sustain me if I am disappointed.

Second: Lute and Lilith on a beach in Heaven, presumably. Alright, wording: “Adam is dead. Your deal is done, and I’m in charge now.” There is. So much to unpack in that. Starting with “Your deal is done.” Lilith…made a deal…with Adam? Adam made a deal with Lilith? Or Lilith made a deal with someone else, like the Seraphim, and Adam happened to be a condition? The most likely explanation is that Lilith made a deal with Adam, but for what and why remains to be seen. It sure looks like Lilith made a deal with her ex-husband to relax in Heaven and let Hell rot, but things really aren’t as they seem in this show; appearances are constantly deceiving. I’ve heard the popular theory that Lilith and Eve share a body (very, very weird implications if so), and it’s shown in some family portraits that Lilith can banish her horns just like Lucifer can his wings (or Charlie her horns, for that matter), but not showing Lilith’s eyes, keeping her shrouded in mystery—is that to conceal her identity as swapping between herself and Eve, is it just to build mystery about Lilith herself (who again is NEVER HECKING MENTIONED EXCEPT BY CHARLIE AND ADAM), is it for lolz? What the heck could Lilith and Adam have possibly traded for, anyway? Letting Lilith crash in Heaven in exchange for…what? The Exterminations have surely been going on for longer than seven years. Lilith could be imprisoned, but Lute’s behavior and language doesn’t convey that at all. Like, AT ALL.

Additional question: does Lute even have the power to take Adam’s place? Or will she get the power as she assumes command?

Anyway, moving forward in this scene, Lute later says “Your brat is threatening the very foundation of Heaven.” Interesting, showing that Lute is just as fearful of a Hellish uprising as Sera is and what that means for the safety of Heaven and the souls they’re protecting. “And if you want to stay here” And if you want to stay here. IF YOU WANT TO STAY HERE. Lilith is definitely there because she wants to be. Or at least Lute believes she wants to be. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if both Lilith and Lucifer are exhausted with their existences, but it is such a contradictory thing, for Charlie to believe so wholeheartedly that her mother is off doing something important, that she loved Hell and cared about its denizens, only to show Lilith on a beach needing to be threatened with leaving it to get up and deal with Charlie. But, then, Charlie also believed her father didn’t want to see her and didn’t really care about her. It’s possible that Charlie is wrong about her mother. But we have so few clues and it’s easy to assume the worst when this is how Lilith is truly introduced.

One thing I keep noticing and keep forgetting to go back and check for: Lilith’s necklace. There really aren’t very many details that don’t have some sort of thought put into them, and her necklace while laying out on a beach is…eye-catching, at least to me. It’s simple, but I just wonder if it’s present in any of the portraits, because I keep forgetting to check for it. Maybe if I write it down, I’ll remember to keep an eye out next time.

I’m sure that there are theories and threads that I didn’t finish, because I have word-vomited something like 24,000 words of theories and reactions and maddened questions; now that I have it all out of my system, maybe I’ll make organized, reasonable posts where the theories are actually separated and presented as cohesive wholes rather than themes carrying across episodes. But I have to get through my Helluva Boss analyses first!

Thanks so much for sticking around and sticking it out, and if any of this made sense, then I’m glad! Later!

#quilly's hellaverse theories #hazbin hotel #quilly writing

3 notes · View notes

piduai · 2 years ago

Note

back in 2021 when i was studying to get into college i would stalk your acc everyday i kinda developed a parasocial relationship with fr sorry girl i just enjoyed your strong opinions and ur sense of humour anyway a year later i actually got into college i am doing what i wanted and all and for some reason i thought it somehow would fix all of my lonely problems but it didnt. ive always been weird but more than ever i dont think i can hide it anymore, i try being normal sooo hard but i feel like everyone can see through my act and they get weirdedout, like they can see that i am trying so hard when to them is so natural and the only girl i kinda made acquaitance with is thinking abt leaving so idk what to do. i truly envy normal people, i take no pride in being different i would trade all of my "uniquiness" to be able to fit in this world fr. sorry for venting, i remember you had a post kind of giving tips on how to ""survive" college but i cant seem to be able to find it. anyway thanks queen keep your head up.

congrats on getting into college, especially if it's something you like doing! i hope your academic career is going smoothly.

if you're in your second year of college you're what, early 20s? being 21 is as bad as being 14 but now you can legally take out a loan. being a weird loner at 21 is ^2 that. i think a lot of lonely teenagers have this college fantasy where they'll finally become social butterflies once they get their psych 101 schedule, but it's rarely the case; people don't change overnight. what i'm trying to say is that it's normal and fine even to feel that way - the disappointment, the frustration, the feeling of something lacking and of losing out. you're in a transactional period, not fully grown into your brain, so it's rather normal to feel bottomless despair in your situation. a lot of your problems will pass with age.

i can relate to your "i wish i was normal" bit so bad. a lot of boring losers on here who haven't stepped a toe out of normalcy their entire lives will talk about being proud weirdos because they play dungeons and dragons and have a porn addiction. god's #real strongest warriors know that there's nothing worse than deviating from the norm, a life of alienation you feel down to the bones. even if you mask exceptionally well and manage to blend in it doesn't go away, you know that you're abnormal and are the odd one out, and struggling with things that come naturally to the majority is downright humiliating. when i was younger i used to resent all of this, i resented not being like other people, resented being unable to be like everyone else, resented having to invest excruciating effort to not stand out like a sore thumb. but eventually you just have to come to terms with it, accept that there's something wrong with you, something that makes you different from most people you'll meet casually, and live with it. once you don't hate yourself for it anymore all you have to do is remember the scripts to follow during regular meaningless interactions and you're peachy. weird people have always existed, you're not the first or the last one, and they lived somehow so we can manage too.

and i know that the self-consciousness makes you think that everyone can sniff you out like a hound but the truth is that most people don't really care about you, they have their own lives to worry about. and it's a good thing, great in fact! if you just exist quietly but try to blend in (as in, don't behave in erratic or abnormal ways and don't create trouble) THE meanest thing people will passingly may think of you is "oh she's a bit awkward/shy/unfriendly" like i promise you those around you don't secretly look at you and go like... wtf.... look at that FREAK walking here..... gross..... because they simply don't care. like i think that strangers are much more benevolently indifferent than we're giving them credit for.

as for practical advice you never asked for, the good old "go to a place many times and you'll meet someone" method typically works. actually the best would be to join some sport of your liking, it doesn't have to be like, competitive or anything, swimming or badminton are good. but if you're bad at that maybe try chiller hobbies, like maybe your uni has some kind of clubs? anime/manga clubs, reading clubs, whatever you like. usually the people you meet at those particular clubs suck, but it kind of works like lesbian dating - they can introduce you to their friends, which can be nice encounters. there's also the option of frequently volunteering at events or getting a part-time job, stuff like bartending can introduce you to a lot of young people, especially if you're in a student town, but barista/waitressing can work too.

the problem with all of the above is that it does require you to be proactive, which is i think a difficult feature if your sense of self is fluctuating and you're being eaten alive by shame/self-doubt/self-hatred/insecurity. it's very hard to live that way. first and foremost you need to stand solid on who you are, to learn to accept your own quirks, to accept that you have to put up with hardships others will never know, and to respect yourself. different doesn't mean worse, or even bad. you're not a bad person. bad people don't have this kind of thoughts, they live life guilt free while demeaning and stomping on others. so even if you're a bit unusual you're still a decent person, you're deserving of dignity and respect and kindness, of good things, of connection, of love. meaningful encounters are rare, but they happen! keep searching, there is no other way. there are other people like you. i wish you the best of luck!

#anon

9 notes · View notes

blankcest · 2 months ago

Note

OMIGOSH I WASN'T EXPECTING THE ESSAY BUT ILY. I definitely see that perspective, I just like reading too much into Ford not choosing to major in cryptozoology until a few years into college and thus a few years away from home able to expand on his own opinions and passions, one interview said teenager Ford thought the same way as Flibrick about Stanley and that's implications, that Ford started school and cut off Stanley with the main goal of excelling within a certain standard that would have him fitting in, and that Ford was in so many clubs but somehow Stanley was his only friend. Also I think it's funny to make Ford an angry wet cat.

Also tell me your food crimes I will be judging Harshly

Food Crimes: I like putting mayonnaise in my ramen.

Secondly:

Oh I’ve never heard of/seen that interview before so that’s news to me!

Honestly that’s a really cool perspective and the implications of it is really interesting when trying to understand Ford as a character and his whole arc.

As well as you bring up really good points about him only pursuing his passions later on in his college life. Points I haven’t thought of before!

I think this goes into how Ford feels about himself verses how he feels about other people. I think Ford loves freaks and weirdos but that Love is rarely extended to himself, giving himself a higher standard to live up to. I think you’re right that in a lot of ways he strives to try and prove he belongs to greater society/his family/etc, especially while he’s young. However, that same type of expectation of normalcy or proof of belonging rarely extends to other people.

I think about his relationship to Stanley when they were kids, Ford actively sticking up for him in Lost Legends and loving his brother’s eccentricities. Finding them entertaining and fun.

I think about his relationship to Fiddleford in college, how Fiddleford made himself a social outcast with his theory that reality is a computer program. Actively charging himself up to Mcgucket’s room, Stating his theory is mathematically feasible, and spending over 24 hours trying to prove it. Simply because well, he related and understood how it felt to be outcasted.

Then you think about his relationship to Gravity Falls itself. A town so strange and weird and off-putting, yet he put himself right in the middle of it. In love with every second, feeling like he truly belongs! As well as not wanting to change it in the slightest.

AND THEN, you look at how he sees Mabel. Immediately being charmed by the kid and her weirdness, loving her for being so out there and well. Herself!

In terms of the Club thing: as an autistic child who was also apart of a decent number of clubs through it’s education

Thats.. entirely possible. When you’re a social outcast. Aka “the weird kid”, it’s surprising easy to be apart of things without actually being apart of stuff. You might be officially part of a group, but that doesn’t mean people will hang out with you outside of the group NOR will it mean they’ll even be friendly to you or acknowledge your existence.

Often times, you’ll be even more ostracized within the group setting than you would be outside of it. Especially if you’re very successful, submissive, or both. This can be compounded upon when you end up favored by adults because of that success or submissiveness.

So teenage Ford having no friends feels completely possible to me, even with all his extra curriculares. You also have to look at it in a small town setting as well, everyone in that highschool knew each other since probably kindergarten. Ford has been outcasted by everyone that entire time. Even if they where forced to share a space together in a club, class, or anything else. His reputation and social status wouldn’t be erased so easily.

So again, it feels completely reasonable that even in Highschool, through clubs, and everything else. Ford would be socially isolated until he’s in a new environment entirely.

That’s what happened to me.

I also feel like the whole cutting off Stanley wasn’t really his choice or intention . Like yes, he did choose not to try and contact him for 10 years but to be an Apologist for a second.

A) he was extremely busy trying to fast tract his education and research

B) His father would have probably heavily discouraged and disapproved of the idea entirely. Which, as much as Ford might disagree with his father on things, would heavily sway him because of his desire for his approval.

POINT IS: Ford is a fucking critter 2 me and is also a dumb stupid idiot with daddy + self-loathing issues

he intrigues me <3

ALSO, he is a wet angry cat at times. But you also have to remember he is full of ✨ whimsy ✨

#it answers...#stancest meta

2 notes · View notes

androgynousblackbox · 2 months ago

Text

What A Punny Life. 5 [Appleradio, Radioapple]

A03 link

[Candlelit Dinner/Under The Stars]

Lucifer woke up in the morning with the sound of a huge explosion. Another attack of some other wannabe Overlord coming to test themselves against the radio demon, most certainly. Just when he finally got a few good hours of sleep. That was his kind of luck.

Groaning to himself, Lucifer rose from the bed to look out the windows. Like he expected, a group of sinners were already fighting the figure of the radio demon in front of the hotel. As high as his tower was, he could still barely listen to some of the resulting screams when the hotelier put his hands or tentacles on them. The laugh of Alastor was still easily heard over anything else.

With a deep sigh, Lucifer turned around. The guy was going to get big, he was going to eat people, if not simply impale them to throw them to a side. Probably an impressive espectacle for someone who had gotten to Hell yesterday. For him, it was as surprising as people cussing out at loall. Once he saw one sinner going full demonic form on others of his kind, he had seen all of them.

There was no point in trying to get back to bed. No chance he was going to be able to sleep again. The only thing left to do then was just get on with his day already. At least the attackers had the decency to use a reasonable hour for their bullshit.

At the breakfast table, it looked like everyone had been unceremounously taken out from the slumber in the same way.

“Morning, dad” said Charlie, yawning and rubbing her eyes with her mug of tea at hand. “We were attacked, but don't worry, Alastor is taking care of it right now.”

“I heard that” Lucifer patted her back on his way to any available chair. As he did, the center of the table was full with fresh fruit, the around had delicious muffins and finally plates with still warm cookies. On any other day, Lucifer would be glad to prepare a lot of it by hand, but after his brute awakening this was the most he could manage. Only his own tea he was going to make the normal way.

The rest of the residents didn't seem to mind at least. Rather quickly, everyone had something of his creation on their hands to munch on. Lucifer could have his flaws as a father, but it always warmed his heart to see that he could provide something for his daughter and all of her friends.

As he was setting up the boiling water on his mug, the screams stopped. Well, no, in Hell they never quite stopped and he could still hear more if for some reason he wanted to. But the one that were right outside of the hotel did. A few minutes later, he had set himself on the table when a dark shadow manifested off the ground and from there their bloothirsty radio host came in, looking entirely satisfied with himself.

"Problem solved!! announced happily, making a flouriture with his cane. "You are all welcome! Niffty, you can go take care of the splatters of blood and body parts left behind, can you?"

Niffty somehow swallowed up the two muffins she had shoved into her mouth.

"Was any of them a really bad boy?" asked, her eyes already shinning with wicked joy.

"I am afraid not, my dear. All contracts from someone else. They were just ordered to attack and had no choice, as they wouldn't stop saying as I picked them appart. If we are lucky, whoever was controlling them will be stupid enough to try themselves and then you can grab whatever you want" said with a encouraging wink.

"Aww" Niffty looked dissapointed for a second, before pushing her chair and jumping down to the ground. Not without quickly grabbing another muffin, which did warmed Lucifer chest for a moment. Psychopathic weirdo that she was, she could also sometimes be adorable. "I am going to use their meat to attract more insects to torment." Of course, that it was until she started giggling and talking to herself.

But oh well, as long she did cleaned up the area, it's not like they could really complain. Lucifer started pouring sugar cubes into his mug. At least seven seemed reasonable enough. Then he waited a little bit for the tea to cool a little, enjoying some cookies for himself. He may have not started the day ideally, but a nice chocolate chip delight could do a lot of good for the soul. Or whatever was the angel equivalent for them, not that anyone ever told him the correct terms. Either way, he was so entranced by the flavor that he almost missed the sound of static radio.

He lifted his head just when Alastor was coming over, his own muf full of coffee.

"Oh, my, would you look at the time!" said Angel Dust suddenly, lifting himself up from his chair. "I just remembered that I had this thing to do and whatever. Thanks for the breakfast, short king! See you later, suckers!"

With a groaning sigh, the pornstar lifted himself up and went out, still yawning against his hand. Lucifer thought he heard some kind of mumbling from his part, something about stupid old men complicating simply shit. But before he could be sure about it, almost as quickly, their winged cat resident stand up.

"Wait, it just came back to me, I also had that thing" said Husk without any enthusiasm, rolling his eyes as he went to follow Angel.

Alastor did not questioned it at all. He sat down on the chair that before was from Angel. The one right next to Lucifer. As soon the ass of the deer man was down, Lucifer tensed up, even though he tried to hide it. Was it coming now then? The teasing about his stupid call? Oh, if the man got really insistent about it, Lucifer may just forfet entirely and get back to his room. Drown on some duckies for a little while could help him to feel better about their breakup. That was never really a breakup, because there was never a relationship, but it was the closest thing to one that he had in a long time. And of course, as usual, the fault was of him.

No, he was not going to resist a lot if the dirty red claws of the sinners started digging there.

"Thank you so much, Alastor" said Charlie, having the brightest smile to greet the radio demon. Maybe too bright. Somehow it felt like she was looking at both of them as she spoke. Probably glad that they weren't jumping to each other's throat instantly. Her relief could be short lived for all Lucifer knew. "Do you think you would be able to repair the damage today?"

"I am working on it as we speak. Don't worry, it will be perfect in no time." Alastor took a sip of his coffee calmly.

Once again, a low kind of music was sounding around the sinner, coming straight from the sinner's cane. As he took a glance over at it, the red glowing eye looked away, as if suddenly interested on the nearest wall.

Lucifer cleared his throat.

"You know, sweetie, I could also repair any damage if you want. It wouldn't take me any effort at all," assured with his most helpful smile.

"Oh, it's okay, dad! I am sure that is under control now!" And before Lucifer could add any more, she suddenly gasped and returned her attention to the radio demon. "By the way, did you finished up with what you were doing last night?"

Alastor straightened up a little on his seat, as if slightly taken aback from her question. Nothing notorious about his composure had changed, but Lucifer was akward enough to recognize some new passing tension that was definitely not there before.

"Yes, in fact" said the sinner, bringing his mug to his face. "It was all done sooner than later."

"Should I be worried?" couldn't help to question Lucifer, squinting his eyes.

The corner of Alastor's smile twitched a little.

"Please, your Majesty. I know that is hard to believe, but not everything has to revolve around you."

Charlie giggled softly into her hand.

"It's okay, dad!" assured. "Alastor was just finishing up with a project that he has been working very hard on for a long time" said, directing to the sinner even a brighter smile.

"Okay, now I am worried."

What could be a project that the demon was working on? Some torture device? Some way to chop up souls? A new spell to destroy people's lives? But if tat was the case, it didn't made sense that his daughter would look so enthusiastic about it. Charlie rolled her eyes as she shook her head indulgently.

"It's nothing bad! If anything, it may be the best thing that could happen to his Hotel," said, positively squealing.

"Charlie" came the voice of Alastor, making sound her name like a light tap on her hand. "Don't you have other tasks to take care of today, dear?"

"If it's that important, I could help with it too" offered Lucifer, really curious now, directing a grin to the sinner. "Surely you don't mind a little help there with your project, right, buddy?"

"How selfless of his Majesty!" Alastor chuckled, taking another sip. "How noble and so unnecesary. What I wanted to do has been accomplished. The final part is all that matters now and that still needs some time."

"It's going to be great!" promised Charlie, perking up and smiling at her father. "It's okay, dad, I saw it myself and is amazing!"

That did absolutely nothing to calm him down. But his daughter looked so helpful about it, he couldn't bear to bring her to reality so suddenly. If the radio host was tricking her on some way to support his project, whatever it was, he could trust on himself to find out about it with his own means and act accordingly. He could even go so far to be a little roughter just for getting the hopes of Charlie up like that. If it was something dangerous or a risk for others, then that was just cruel.

Alastor cleared up his throat. The sinner finished the last bit of coffee he had left and grabbed his cane back.

"Speaking of, I should take care of that immediately" said, right as Charlie squealed again. "Not that, dear. Something entirely different that has nothing to do with what we were talking about. Have a good day, everyone!"

With a single dramatic gesture of his hand, the man dissapeared through the chair to the ground and then completely out of their sight. Lucifer glared at that point for a moment longer as he gave a thoughful bite into his cookie. He did not believe a single word out of that yellow teethed mouth.

"I should also start going, sweetie" said, willing to follow the radio man and find out what he was up to.

He was back on the lobby, planning his next move, when suddenly his phone started vibrated from his pocket. Seeing at the flashing notification on the screen, Lucifer's mind instantly erased anything to do with the radio host, his especial project and the trickery his daughter had to be under, and a growing smile instantly appeared on his face.

That was the alert he had set up in front of his doorstep. Not for visitor, not for just letters, not just intruders. The moment the same being that had left the previous packages was ready to do the same, a spell was going to take over the new gift for his own. It was a pitty that he was not going to be able to see the new letter, although he didn't feel that bad about losing another piece of meat to magic.

In the hand of the sender, as soon Lucifer was aware of their presence, was going to appear a new letter written from his own hand and desk. It was a rather simple one, after at least a thousand that Lucifer had discarded in frustration. Rather than any question about where they have been, about how grateful he was for the presents or anything at all, Lucifer had finally gone and get straight to the point. The words "If you want for us to see each other, would you do me the honor of accompanying me for a dinner tonight?" were plenty straightforward. Lucifer had set it up all right after making his song request, so he was ready to have their date on any of those nights. It seemed that now was going to be that one.

Oh, but that was not all. Behind that replacement spell, there was a curse. Just a tiny one, nothing harmful. Whoever touched came in contact with his letter was not going to have another choice but to remain in place, unable to move, for five minutes. All the while sending a signal that Lucifer could easily track of on his own. More than enough time for Lucifer to go greet them directly and recieve his response directly. Putting that mystery put to rest already and know, with total certainty, if there was any willingness to pursue anything further. If there wasn't, well, that was going to suck for a bit, but he would learn to live with it. At least he wouldn't need to keep wondering about it.

He smiled bigger when his magic quickly told him that the sender was on the hotel, right above his head. Probably just in front of his door right that moment, instead of just using their magic from afar like how Lucifer thought. In any case, it was them, or someone connected to them, and that was more than enough for him.

Fingers at the ready to snap, Lucifer was about to open a portal right where the signal was coming from when suddenly Charlie was hugging him from behind.

If he had turned to see over her shoulder, he would have seen the shadows of a curtain were for a moment bigger and larger than they were usually. But the moment passed, there was nothing to see there, and Charlie was hugging him tight.

"Ah, dad! Thank goodness you still haven't gone anywhyere, I was so worried I wouldn't be able to catch you!" said almost in one breath, right above Lucifer's head. "I uh… I totally need you for something duper super important! Something I couldn't ask anyone else help with! Only you, papa! You think you could do it?" asked, squeezing him tighter.

"Uh…" Lucifer practically short circuted in place. Both positions, helping his daughter in anything she could ask, and wanting to solve at once the issue that had been weighing in him for weeks, were both battling to the death inside of his head, not allowing any other thought to survive. "Ah, sweetie… does it need to be right now? I-I can help you, of course I can, but I also have to see a little something. I promise I won't take long and then I will be all yours!"

He lifted his fingers again. Charlie put her own hand on top of his.

"Papa, you always do this!" said and her face scrunched up like she didn't like saying that, or her next words. "All I ask is a little bit of help from you and you can't do that for me? Is… uh anything you do more important than helping me out with my dream!? Am I ever going to be that important for you?"

Lucifer looked up to her, horrified. He had no idea that she thought that way. A truck full of parental guilt immediately was summoned to bury the other army in an instant. Nothing else in all creation could matter as much to eliminate those ideas from his daughter's head, right now.

"Of course not, honey!" insisted, taking both of her hands to hold on his. Charlie looked deeply uncomfortable with herself, but she didn't pulled away from him. "Sweetie, how could you say that? You are the most important thing for me, obviously. I was just going to take care of something very quickand come back in a sec, that is all!"

"Well, then…" Charlie looked over to something up ahead her, behind Lucifer, and then separated from him, crossing her arms. With a dramatic huf, she turned her head away. "Then go! Leave me to be! I knew I coudn't count with you!"

"No, no! Honey, I am sorry, I am sorry" said Lucifer in a panic, holding her arms. When Charlie looked back to him, she seemed pained. "It's okay, baby. That other thing can wait until later. You will always be my first priority, always. Just tell me whatever is that you need and it's yours."

"Oh, dad" Charlie sighed, hugging him again and squeezing him as hard she could. For a moment she just stayed there, almost apologetically. But she haven't done anything wrong as far Lucifer was concerned, so he squeezed her back without knowing what else to do. "I can't do this. I am sorry, I didn't meant of it."

"No, no, sweetie, please. It's good we talk these thing out." No matter how much it felt like driving a sword through his entire torso. It was probably what he deserved after falling to be there for her so many times before. "I never wanted to make you feel like that. I am sorry."

"No" Charlie nuzzled her cheek against his head. "You don't. You have been… It has been great having you around, really. I didn't mean that before." Taking a deep breath, Charlie stand up and grabbed his hand. "But since you offered oh so kindly, I still need for this thing!" added with a taut smile.

Before Lucifer had any chance to say anything at all, his daughter dragged him out through the lobby to the open door of the hotels. Turns out, the small thing that Charlie needed help with was with repainting the frontal face of the whole hotel. She was right there was no one else inside that could do it with just a few snaps of fingers like he could.

Lucifer originally thought he was going to finish with that quickly and just go to find his sender, still paralyzed in front of his bedroom door. But no choice that he could make seemed to be good enough for Charlie, who didn't seemed to have any specific vision either.

"Sweetie…"

"Dad, this is the first thing that all of Hell sees when they see to this place! We have to make sure… uh that is a good looking place for them! Inviting and welcoming and one that screams Hi, I am safe and warm and totally not a waste of time here!"

"I don't know if a new coat of paint is going to do that, honey."

"But it doesn't hurt to try!" She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, right at the center of the red dot. "Please, papa? Pretty please?"

Oh, well, how could he say no to that?

It wasn't until a full hour had passed and Lucifer was sure they had already gone through an entire rainbow of colors, twice, when Charlie declared with a long sigh that how the place looked originally was probably the best. Couldn't she have thought of that from the start? Lucifer still got it back to normal, just like she wanted it.

"Thank you, papa!" Charlie hugged him again and kissed his cheek, effectively melting any frustration he had away. "You are really the best dad ever!"

"I haven't really done anything…" started out Lucifer, when Charlie suddenly gripped his shoulder, looking as determined as ever.

"Don't say that! This has been a great help to define the look of the whole hotel! Thank you!" With one other big squeeze that had Lucifer loosing contact with the floor for a second there, she laughed while putting him down. She gave him a chuckle. "Sorry, I just really wanted to have that down now. You can do whatever else that you need now."

"Alright." Lucifer turned away. But not before he made a squeak out of his daughter with a hug of his own. "I love you. Bye!" said quickly, jumping out to a portal he just got open.

"Love you too!" reached to him the voice of Charlie from behind, right before he closed it to run to his bedroom door.

It was empty, just like he expected now. But someone had scratched on the wall, using the same rought letterings on all of the cards he had gotten until now. The word yes seemed to have been engraved there, as if whoever wrote it had written it over and over again. Although he certainly would have to fix that, Lucifer was deligted to see it. He officially had a dinner date now!

The note also included the exact direction where he hope to have their dinner. Since the sender never had an issue coming inside the hotel, Lucifer figured that they wouldn't have it either to reach the balcony on the 14th floor. That one was big enough to contain at least eight tables and all of them have their own space so nobody had to feel like others were going to intrude in their conversations. Destined for parties, activities on the open air without leaving the hotel and whatever else the residents needed out of it. That night, Lucifer was going to decorate it with some nice lights on the reiling and the entrance. Some curtains here and there to make it look more intimate. Some pot flowers, carrying on some of the flowers the sender had given him before, so it wouldn't look so empty. The only table being theirs, slightly enlarged and of a more elegant design.

He could have chosen literally any place on Hell. A proper restaurant would have probably been the way to go in a case like this one. But going to his first date in millenia was already nerve wrecking enough without also adding a space full of strangers on some establishment he didn't know either. People taking pictures or trying to get his attentios, only to then speak to him and his date online or whatever counted for gossip tabloud nowadays. All of that for what could potentially be just one date that could go literally in any way was just too much for him.

With a little dinner at the hotel, at least the failure or success of the night was going to stay just between them. The sender could go back their own merry way, however method they were using before, and Lucifer could go directly to his room. No more prying eyes, no one following them, no one to answer to. Someday he could consider a more public appearence, at least in front of the other residents. But only if things got very well for a while and Lucifer didn't want too many hopes up.

As for the dinner itself, Lucifer had managed to get some non cannibal meat that they could both enjoy, cooked, salted and served to perfection with some side dishes to fill the stomach. As for drinks, one of his nicer wines back at the palace. One of the few alcoholic drinks he kept around despite not being overtly sweet, and despite not really doing anything into getting him drunk. If his date didn't like that one, he could always changed it for something else.

Finally, dessert. A souffle he had made himself. Not too sweet, not too intense, but filling and soft to finish off the night in a good note. Assuming that they even got to the dessert at all. If not, well, two souffles for him!

As for him, Lucifer ended up pulling out one of his favorite suits that unfortunately he didn't have many chances to get out. One especially gifted by Asmodeus for when he ever decided to "bring a cutie down to his ring", which explained the heart themes that were open at the thighs of the pants and the holders on his black jacket holding it together through chains. The open revealed belly had always seem a tad bit too revealing for just wear it around, reason why he had never taken out until that moment. A little bit of skin on a date couldn't hurt, right? Besides, if he wasn't going to wear it for that occasion, Lucifer had no idea when then, so he just took his chance. He just hoped that his date didn't think that it was too much.

After making sure all the lights were just at the right places, Lucifer sat down at one of the chairs and consulted his phone. It was only going to be a couple of minutes until the time he told the sender to appear. Plenty of times to try to relax. Bouncing his leg up and down, Lucifer looked at the entrance to the balcony. Although, now that he thought about it, he had no idea how his date was going to arrive. It could be through the doors or through the balcony itself. Or just appear out of nowhere in front of him.

As he was thinking about it, an explosion came out from right under him. Reclining over the reiling, Lucifer saw a bunch of sinner coming down with a bazooka ready to shoot again. He couldn't be entirely sure since he didn't seem them the first time, but he had to imagine that those were part of the same group that tried to attack them that morning. They saw that going from the front was not a good idea, so now they were taking their chances with the back.

Maybe he should just make them go away? As he lifted one hand to do just that, a screeching full of radio static broke through the air and then appeared black tentacles reaching for the closest targets before the rest of the sinner followed through. Scream of pain, horror and demented taunting filled the air, all of them taken over by the radio noises coming from the demon. No laugh this time though. Those fools had caught Alastor in a bad mood.

If that was the case, probably the last thing the man wanted was to receive any other intervention. Besides, he seemed to be having things under control. Lucifer returned to his seat. Trying and failing to not check on his phone every few minutes.

10 minutes passed and the battles, or massacre more so, was still going. Someone shoot again from the bazooka and the explosion heard near the hotel, without actually hitting it. Lucifer made a face when he could hear from where he was the crunch of the sinners's bodies between the teeth of the radio demon. He wasn't just eating them whole like usual, he was making sure that they suffered while doing so. What bug had crawled up his ass?

15 minutes. A little bit late, but that was okay. Fashionably late was still a thing, right? He was going to make appear the food anyway, so there was no risk of all of it getting cold before they were there.

From the backyard, Alastor grabbed one of the sinners and growled on their face what time was it. Lucifer could tell him. But whatever answer he got, wasn't the one Alastor liked the most and he devoured him all the same. Making all the disgusting noises that mixed in with his scratching and stating popping into the air like a corus of screams. How many more were coming? Thirty at least? They sounded like a bunch. Even those that were trying to run, were going to get caught and suffer the same fate. A draconic growl came out from a more than pissed off Alastor.

So overdramatic. Lucifer rolled his eyes as he sighed, supporting his chin over his hand and his elbow on the table. He decided that taking a few sips from his own bottle wasn't going to hurt. At least it would be something to do now that he had finished with the bread sticks he could keep replenishing all he wanted.

He gave a toast to the empty chair. For idiots that gave it their best and still failed. No matter if it was as small as attacking the home of an Overlord or as big as putting oneself out there in the market of potential partner. Their collective pathetic hope was the last thing to die, even among yellow sharp teeth going hard on their spines.

Half an hour later, after another explosion had come and go, finally there was some silence coming from the backyard. Lucifer tried to serve himself another glass, when suddenly he realized the bottle was empty. He looked on his phone. One hour and thirty minutes late. He stared at the numbers on the screen until they kept advancing. One hour and thirty four. One hour and thirsty five. When it reached the thirty six, Lucifer sighed and stand up.

Well. He could take a hint when he was given one. If they weren't appearing at all, then it could only be because they had changed their minds. Or they were laughing at the thought that he bothered at all. Somewhere he couldn't see. Maybe before going directly to some kind of tabloid to talk about how easily they had tricked the devil himself. What a moron, they would say.

Lucifer filled out the bottle again with a hand gesture and carried it out by the top with him. In his head he knew he had to clean up everything, leave the balcony exactly as he found it, but he had no head for that at the moment. On the morning, he said to himself. After the longest shower ever, repairing the damage on his wall and take as many pills from Belphegor he could to be knocked out for the rest of the night, gulping it all down with the wine. If Charlie found it and asked, he was going to say he was just enjoying a quiet dinner by himself. Or something else. He would think of something later.

As he opened up the glass door, he heard some steps coming the hallway. Running. Huh, he had never seen the radio demon run anywhere before.

"Your Majesty!" called the man, getting closer and stopping a few steps, bending over to get his breath back.

He was so empty at that moment that he didn't even have space to be surprised that he had changed at all.

"Hey. Nice suit" commented Lucifer, because it was.

Mostly black and red like his usual outfit, but this one looked somehow less tacky. It had a heart themed everywhere just like his own. They could have matched. But along the nice suit, he also took notice of the drops of water still falling from Alastor's hair and the way his bowtie looked slightly croocked, like he had rushed desperately to move.

"Going somewhere? You should probably fix the thing" commented, pointing to his neck. Alastor saw the gesture and looked down, getting the accesory right. "Yeah, that is right. Now you are good. Hey, if you have a date or something, the balcony is really pretty right now. Just make sure to clean it up later, alright?" He gave him a tired smile as he turned around. At least now he wasn't going to be the one to take care of that. One less thing to worry about. "I am clocking out now. Night, buddy."

He crossed the hallway to another one, in the direction to the nearest elevator, when suddenly a shadow stopped him. Just the shadow, with the shape of Alastor. Unless Alastor's perpetual grimace, that dark figure had their eyebrows and mouth turned downwards, as if sad for something.

"Sir" said Alastor, from behind. "They… they took longer than I expected. They kept coming more and more, like a bunch of roaches to a bloated dead body" explained, his voice becoming growly as he was still mad just remembering it. "They wouldn't stop."

"Oh." Lucifer had no idea why he was saying that to him. It's not like it was his job to supervise him or anything. "Well, but you did stop them in the end, right? Good job, I guess" he gave him a lazy thumb up. "Can I go now?"

Alastor brow furrowed slightly, a single tilt of his head as he stared at Lucifer. Like he wasn't sure what to make out of his attitude. Lucifer sighed.

"Listen, buddy, I am tired, so if you don't mind, I really prefer to go to bed. We can do… whatever the fuck this is later, alright?"

He went around the shadow, who now thankfully let him through without chasing him. He had taken just a few steps when he heard Alastor groaned at his back.

"I can't brie-lieve you! I am souper hungry right now and that is how you react, your Majesty? Come on, let's taco about how I came way late and have an egg-cellent time instead of getting all sour! Lettuce celebrate and meat up for dinner, your Majesty."

The bottle slipped away from Lucifer's hand. The content of it spilled on the carpet and the wooden floor, filling the air with the aroma of the expensive liquid. Lucifer turned around slowly, the idea that just popped in his head too unreal to not make him feel like he was part of a dream. He looked again at the new suit of the sinner and then lifted a hand, pointing at him, as if there could be any other sinner present to confused him with.

"You?" said, still incredulous. "You? You did that? The… you?"

"Well, you don't have to sound so shocked either." Alastor sighed through his nose and made a gesture down the hallway. Under his gray skin, Lucifer could see growing stains of a blush. "Can we please return to the table and speak there?"

Lucifer just gawked at the man. The fucking radio demon was blushing in front of him. His mind was unable to process.

"You?!" repeated, as if that was the only word he knew.

"Yes, me!" exclaimed Alastor suddenly, lifting his arms. At seeing that Lucifer took a step back, he groaned again, rubbing the space between his eyebrows. "Honestly, I was hoping that you alone would find out out. I thought if I let you some of the sweets you helped me make was going to be enough of a confirmation, but then someone decided to make a spell that made those go away and didn't leave me much of a choice."

"Oh, fuck off" said Lucifer, frowning at him. "Is my fault now that I didn't thought that the asshole who keeps taunting me and insulting every chance he has would be so fucking corny as to leave those presents? Have you ever tried this new revolutionary strategy? It's called BEING NICE. Asshole."

"You laughed at them everytime!"

"Oh, and I bet you were watching, you creep!" Lucifer suddenly gasped, realizing something else. "Is this your fucking idea of a joke? Is that it? Were you just fucking laughing about this on your little radio show? Oh, that is low, even for you. You disgust me."

Alastor growled, running his fingers through his hair. When he spoke again, his shoulder had spread as the rest of his members enlarged. Black antlers scrapped the ceiling as he couldn't contain himself any longer.

"Would you just listen to me?!" roared on Lucifer's face.

Not willing to be less, Lucifer spite fire as he took out his wings and let his own horns grow. He was still far smaller than the demonic forms of the sinner, but he dind't let that stop him. He was too pissed now.

"Listen to you to keep making your stupid joke running? It's over, buddy!"

"It wasn't a joke, you stupid little cretin!"

"Ah, petnames now, eh? So romantic! How about this one for you? Heartless dick!"

Alastor lifted his hand to try to grab him. Lucifer lifted his hand to punch him away if he even came in contact with him, when suddenly both of them froze.

"YOU TWO ARE IDIOTS!"

The surprisingly loud voice of the tiny maid came accompanied of her tiny quick steps over the carpet. Both of them saw her, paralyzed.

"You both are idiots!" repeated Niffty. She first looked at Lucifer, pointing at him a black finger. "You should know already if someone is lying to you or not! You are supposed to be the father of lies! You know that Alastor is saying the truth and are just mad because you didn't see it before! And you, sir!" said, quickly turning to Alastor, who was taken aback. "Scary pretty boy is right too. You should be nice sometimes to the people you want to be nice to you back! All this bickering as flirting only works if you are both in the same page of it being flirting in the first place! If not, then is just nagging! Now stop being silly and make up and have nasty sex right now!" she determined, stomping her foot on the ground.

For a moment neither of them moved. The first to break the silence was Alastor, with enough calm on the surface to clear his throat as he let his demonic features retract back a little.

"I think that is enough of an intervention, dear. You can go now."

"But I want to see the make up sex!" protested Niffty with a pout.

"Niffty" warned Alastor, his patience clearly already wearing thin. "That is enough."

"Aww, I never get to see anything fun around here" Niffty kicked her carpet under her before moving away, back to the cleaning supplies she had been using at one of the last room of the hallway.

As soon the door of the room was closed again, they both looked at each other.

"So…" started Lucifer, not knowing what else to say. "Since when did you…?"

"Does it matter?" Alastor sighed harshly, fully returning to his default state, rubbing his temple to fight a headache.

"I guess doesn't" Lucifer returned to the floor and came back to normal too. "But, I mean… why? Don't you hate me?"

"I did" said Alastor simply, crossing his arms. "At some point I realized it was too much effort for something that wasn't worth it. Then, I don't know, I changed my mind" finalized with a shrug, looking away. "The first gift I did it on a whim. I had just killed someone and I was full already, but didn't want to just throw it away."

"So you gave me your literal scraps" added Lucifer, deadpan.

"But then you saw the note and laughed like it was the best joke that you have heard your entire life" continued on Alastor, opening up his eyes as he could still see it and was still surprised by it. Lucifer blushed now, not willing to admit that was the first time someone told him any jokes at all. Then Alastor shook his head slightly. "Anyway, I think that is why I kept doing it."

"And when I requested those songs, you knew…"

"They were for me, yes" Alastor chuckled. "One sweet, one a warning. Conflicting messages, your Majesty, but I got the message anyway. I wasn't trying to mess with you, so I thought I was in the clear anyway."

"Ah" Lucifer pulled on his bowtie, suddenly feeling very hot in the face. "W-well…" said, his mind in blank.

Alastor nodded, as if a whole statement had been pronnounced right there.

"Do we return to the table?" offered again. "I think someone promised me a dinner" said with a smile.

"You literally just ate like, fifty people" said Lucifer, but his feet were already moving back already.

When he was just at the side of the radio demon, he smelled his cologne. The man had even put cologne for their date. That fact alone had his head spinning almost more than any other revelation. It was a good one too.

"I didn't ate everything, some of it I just spit it out" explained Alastor easily, following him behind. "I was leaving some space for the actual meal."

It wasn't until they came inside the balcony that Lucifer realized the cane was putting out music again.

#appleradio #radioapple #duckiedeer #lucifer x alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer

17 notes · View notes

krahenschrei · 1 year ago

Text

An Aquarius Opening Up

Random journal-ish entry because I need to get the feelings out somewhere or the Bees™ in my head will detonate.

For a whole lot of reasons I'm not the sort of person who likes to talk about their feelings or anything about myself that isn't like basic surface level things and that's kinda always been the case. I keep everyone in my life at a certain level of distance, some closer or further than others, but not my family, my therapist, or friends have ever gotten to any really deep layers of who I am or anything like that.

But something changed recently. I can't pinpoint when and I don't know if there was any specific trigger or if it just happened gradually without me noticing.

I've been with my boyfriend fo a little over two years now and I've always felt comfortable telling him mostly anything but even he unfortunately was held at a certain distance. Closer than anyone else has ever been, certainly, but still something in me kept me from letting down my walls entirely. I know part of my issue stems from having to be the strong one my whole life for everyone - family, friends, etc. - I was the tough, stable person that held it together for everyone else and made sure things were taken care of or at the very least, anyone affected by something was able to talk to me about their feelings and basically use me as a sounding board to process and usually that would turn me into the therapist friend as well. I was not 'allowed' to have the same courtesy though because if I spoke about my feelings, I was invalidated or made to feel guilty for expressing myself because I "made them feel bad" and was told more than once by specific people in the past that me just wanting to discuss something bad that happened "upset them" and I was made to drop it, even if it had nothing to do with the person I was talking to.

But lately I've found myself just saying things to my boyfriend that are usually things I would keep to myself. Nothing weird or bad, just thoughts and feelings that sit deeper inside me that I would've never expressed to anyone else. There have been times I've said things and realized it but felt no embarrassment or shame like I might have if it had slipped in front of anyone else. I've been taking stock of how I feel during those times and it's an unusual sense of calmness and just… being okay. Like I don't feel excessive happiness or anything, it's not a euphoric moment, it's just… natural and good. It feels safe. I have never in my life felt safe with anyone, not even family members that I knew did genuinely love and care about me - because I felt they would still betray my trust somehow at some point.

He makes me feel safe. He makes me feel okay. I feel comfortable and have this deep sense of understanding that there's no shame or guilt or fear here. There's no need to compete, no need to argue and debate to make my feelings be taken seriously or validated. There's no need to posture and express an unhealthy level of generosity in order to 'prove' that I'm worth keeping around.

Last year was hard. The first quarter of this year has been hard too for different reasons but now, coming into May, I just feel… good. I feel content. It's an unusual sensation. Trauma, mental illness, and just being an annoying air sign has made my whole life feel like a constant state of needing to prove to everyone around me that I deserve to be here, that I deserve love and care and to be heard, that I am not somehow less important than those around me just because I'm different than they are. There's just been these little moments for the last month or so that make me stop and think like… Yeah, this is good. This is right. I'm okay. I'm safe. I'm loved. This is what it should feel like.

I feel authentic. I feel like my genuine self thanks to him. I feel like for once, someone doesn't think I'm some alien weirdo that can't function properly and just doesn't try hard enough or feels things the 'wrong way.' I don't get into constant panicked states worrying if he's losing interest in me. I don't constantly stress myself out and worry myself physically sick about making some frantic display of reminding him that I'm there and don't want to be replaced and I'm good enough. I don't have to fight for his attention, he just gives it because he wants to, because he wants me, and I guess part of me is still learning how to accept that. No one's ever wanted me without it being conditional somehow.

It's a lot to process and there's still even more I haven't fully wrapped my head around. I hope I'll be able to give him that same sense of safety and acceptance. He deserves it. I hope I can love him as perfectly as he's loved me.

#krahe journal #rambling about feelings and bf

1 note · View note

invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years ago

Text

Childhood

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

+ This Game of Ours

Jason’s eyes snapped open at a sound that no human should be able to hear.

Ever since he’d been resurrected from the Lazarus pit, his senses had grown abnormally acute – amongst other strange things.

Sometimes he swore he could even hear Y/N’s heartbeat. It was easiest to do with her, after all he was so intone with her very being.

But all of that made nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him – let alone in his own home. Which someone was. He could feel it.

Jason’s eyes glanced down at Y/N, who was sound asleep on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he lifted her body off of him so he could slip out of bed.

But Y/N was a light sleeper, unfortunately. She must’ve inherited that from Bruce, even though she wasn’t even raised by the man.

Y/N winced as her eyes opened just in time to see Jason grabbing one of his hidden guns from below their bed frame.

“What’s going on?” Her voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Jason lied. “Stay here.”

Now that she found out about another hidden gun in their apartment, Jason knew he was going to return to a lecture from Y/N. She never hid her hatred for guns, and had asked him to keep them out of their apartment.

“Jason…” Y/N whispered desperately, now more awake and concerned.

“Stay here,” Jason said, more firmly this time.

Then he quickly kissed her, leaving even less room for her to argue.

In only his black boxer briefs, Jason snuck out of their bedroom and into the living room without making any sound. Y/N had always been shocked at how quiet her giant boyfriend could make himself.

Just as Jason raised his gun, he heard the familiar voice.

“Put some clothes on, Todd.”

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

To Jason’s surprise, he was in civilian clothes and not in his Robin uniform.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, breaking in like that?” Jason reprimanded as he uncocked the gun.

But before Damian could defend himself, the bedroom door squeaked open and Y/N was rushing out into the living room.

“I told you to stay there,” Jason growled.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “Obviously I recognized Damian’s voice, Jason.”

Then Y/N looked at her half-brother for a second and quickly realized Damian had come there for a reason.

“Everything alright, Damian?” She asked carefully.

“Yes,” he lied.

Jason remembered when Damian despised Y/N. He saw her as a threat to his claim to the Wayne throne. But Y/N had immediately made her intentions clear. “I have my own reputation, money, and career that I built without a name attached to me. I want nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises,” she had told Damian as soon as she realized he saw her as some sort of competition.

It took Damian months to even acknowledge Y/N. And he really only did because both his father and Dick – basically his surrogate father – scolded him for not doing so.

Slowly but surely, the two grew closer.

Y/N didn’t put up with Damian’s attitude. But she also didn’t scold him like a child. If he was rude or aggressive, she spoke to him the same way she would speak to a grown man who behaved in such a manner. Somehow it made the boy slowly start to respect her more.

Eventually, they bonded over their mutual love of the arts. Damian was impressed with her photographs, while Y/N was honored whenever Damian decided to share his drawings with her. Y/N had gifted Damian his first camera. And Damian once gave her a few lessons on the basics of sketching and painting.

Who knew Waynes were the creative type?

And it was when Damian’s pets all seemed to be obsessed with Y/N that the boy finally decided to get over his original opinions and feelings.

It was by no means a short or easy battle. But the rest of the family was relieved when Damian finally accepted Y/N as one of their own.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?” Y/N offered Damian.

The boy just shrugged, but she noticed his eyes subtly light up.

She never understood why he refused to let himself feel joy in the simple things. It was like she could catch him stopping himself from being a kid.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason announced with exhaustion.

It was clear to him that Damian came to see his sister, not him. And he was nice enough to leave the two of them alone. Even though he was a bit bitter that his girlfriend was being stolen from their bed.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Jason invaded Y/N’s space and gently grabbed her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross,” Damian groaned.

Jason glared and pointed at the boy. “You’re in our apartment, demon spawn. I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I fuckin’ want to.”

Y/N just laughed as she watched Jason close their bedroom door behind him.

“Come on,” she nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s make some hot chocolate. I think I have some of Alfred’s cookies hiding somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Damian mumbled.

Y/N smirked and shook her head. Tonight, she wasn’t taking the bait.

Once Damian decided he didn’t hate Y/N, he jumped right to making it known that he did not think Jason was good enough for her. But she knew it was an act – mostly.

“Why aren’t you on patrol?” She asked casually once they had giant mugs of hot chocolate and cookies in front of them, making sure to give the boy extra marshmallows.

“I’m grounded,” Damian muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Grounded?”

It seemed like a far too normal concept for a family of vigilantes.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed.

“I’m guessing that means Bruce and Alfred don’t know you’re here…?”

“I snuck out,” he admitted.

“Why did you get grounded?”

“Father found out I was skipping school. And then that I skipped the school dance.”

“Why does it matter if you skipped the dance?” She asked, clearly confused.

Y/N was also struggling to imagine Bruce caring about such a trivial thing like that.

“Father wishes for me to have normal experiences that young man of my age is expected to have,” Damian said with a roll of his eyes.

“School dances are lame,” Y/N commented.

Damian sat up straighter, not expecting that to be her response.

“I skipped prom. I didn’t want to go,” she added.

“Why not?” The boy challenge, somewhat caught off guard by that.

Y/N shrugged. “Bad music. Bad dancing. Tacky dresses. Just wasn’t all that appealing to angsty, teenage me.”

Damian just nodded slowly, and then got quiet.

“I have no desire to be normal,” he finally stated after a few minutes.

“I’m not taking his side, but I get why Bruce wants you to do these things, Damian. You were robbed of a lot of things because of the way you were raised. I’m not saying that it’s bad or good. But I think Bruce just wants to give you the opportunity to experience the life of a – well...of a kid.”

“And was your life normal?” Damian quickly asked.

Y/N nodded. “So normal that it was boring.” She laughed, “My entire life was normal until I met all of you weirdos.”

That got a smile out of Damian.

But then it slowly dropped and he seemed to get lost in his head.

“I don’t…I don’t have any friends,” Damian finally whimpered.

Y/N was shocked by the boy’s emotion.

Damian was always composed.

“It’s like they speak a different language. And it’s one I can never learn.”

“Oh, Damian,” Y/N sighed as she rushed from her seat to kneel beside him. “I know it must be hard to try and fit in. But you’re not doing anything wrong. None of that’s your fault.”

“Father is more than aware that I don’t need the education,” Damian’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “He only forces me to attend so I can make friends. And that is one thing I am unable to do.”

Y/N let him breathe and have an opportunity to continue before she spoke again.

“I hate school, so I skip. And the school dance seemed so ridiculous to me, so I skipped that too – even after father specifically requested that I attend.”

Y/N sighed, “And did you tell him how you’re feeling when he grounded you?”

Damian shook his head no.

She hadn’t expected anything different. She could easily imagine Damian lashing out at Bruce when he received his punishment, saying that the requests were a waste of his time and beneath him.

Damian was good at hiding his emotional pain – maybe even better than their father.

Y/N was sure Bruce didn’t have a true understanding of what Damian was going through.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Damian asked.

“Of course,” she gave him a sad smile. “How about we take this hot chocolate to the couch and watch a movie?”

Damian shrugged. But it wasn’t a no.

Y/N let him pick the movie.

He chose Fantasia.

When Y/N didn’t hide her surprise, he explained that he respected the animation and loved all of the classical music. Even when they did a child-like activity, he still always found way to remind the world that he was no normal child.

An hour later, both of them had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still playing.

When Damian felt another presence, he awoke with a jolt and grabbed his hidden knife, holding it to the throat of the intruder.

But it was Jason, gently bringing Y/N’s sleeping body into his arms.

“Once again, demon spawn, you’re in our apartment,” Jason hissed with annoyance.

The man was completely unfazed by the feeling of a blade threatening to slit his throat.

Damian huffed.

“I’m taking her to bed,” Jason explained the obvious. Then he nudged his head at the love-seat across from Damian. “There’s a blanket right there if you want to sleep on the couch. Or you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

But Jason paused, with Y/N sleeping in his arms, as he noticed a strange look on Damian’s face.

“What?” He urged.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself,” Damian growled softly.

Jason looked utterly unimpressed. “You’d have to get in line,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet to prevent waking Y/N.

But then Jason’s face softened. “Look, kid, I think you know that she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d die before doing anything to mess this up.”

“Hmph,” was the only noise Damian made in response.

Jason rolled his eyes and carried Y/N back to their bedroom.

In all honesty, he couldn’t fall asleep while she had been in with Damian. With Jason’s weird enhanced hearing because of the pit, he was able to catch a bit of their conversation.

Jason softly place Y/N back in bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. When he joined her on the other side of the bed, she didn’t even wake as she slid back into his arms.

Now Jason could finally go to sleep.

When there was a knock on the apartment door the next morning, Damian and Y/N shared a look.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N sighed.

Jason had made all three of them breakfast that morning.

But now Damian pushed the food around his plate, knowing this was the end of his small rebellion. Who knew what his new punishment would be?

Y/N opened the door to unsurprisingly find her father.

Bruce was wearing a full suit, despite it being a Sunday morning. On top was a heavy, black overcoat with the back of the collar slightly propped up.

“You could have least told me he was here,” Bruce greeted his daughter.

She smirked mischievously and shrugged. “I’m no snitch.”

Damian appeared behind Y/N, not seeing the point in dragging this out any longer than necessary.

“Alfred’s downstairs with the car,” Bruce told his son evenly.

The disappointment in both his expression and tone was obvious.

Damian looked up at Y/N. “Thank you for having me, Y/N.”

“Next time, use the actual door so you don’t give me or Jason a heart attack.”

Damian smiled at that before walking past his father and down the hallway.

“Can I talk to you a second?” Y/N asked Bruce.

Her father seemed surprised by the request, but nodded anyways and closed the door behind him.

“I think Damian is really struggling – more than you think, I mean.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been remotely injured from patrols in months…”

“No, Bruce,” she quickly cut off. “Not as Robin. As Damian.”

Bruce was quiet.

“He doesn’t know how to fit in, Bruce. And you’re putting a lot of pressure on him to live a normal life. Bu he’s never gonna have normal. That was taken away from him before you even knew he existed.”

“He said that to you?” Bruce asked.

She nodded. “In so few words, yes.”

“And I’m assuming you have some advice,” he quirked a brow.

“Well, yeah. Maybe you should just homeschool him.”

“Y/N, the whole point of him going to school is to be around kids his own age. We both know the education is beneath him already.”

“But that’s the thing, Bruce. He’s never going to relate to any of those kids. Going to school makes him feel like a freak. Let him get homeschooled.”

“He needs to learn to make friends,” Bruce argued.

“You’re right. He does. But not with the spoiled brats of Gotham Academy. How many superheroes are you friends with?”

“He doesn’t consider them friends!” Jason shouted from the kitchen.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine. How many superheroes are you acquainted with, who have kids around Damian’s age?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“I know you like to keep your personal life away from Batman. But those are the only kids that Damian is ever going to relate to in some way. Do you get what I’m saying?”

To her surprise, Bruce nodded. “You’re right.”

Her brows shot up. “I am?”

Y/N had really expected him to fight her on this.

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you are. Out of everyone in this family, you are the only one who can say they had any semblance of a normal childhood.”

Suddenly his phone dinged and he glanced down at it.

“I have to go,” he regretfully told her.

When he looked back up at her, his face softened. “Come to the manor soon for dinner,” he asked her gently.

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, “I will.”

Bruce nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Jason was hiding. “And bring that one with you, will you?”

Y/N laughed. “He’ll go wherever I go. He’s like a puppy, that one.”

“I can hear you!” Jason called out.

Bruce laughed and stepped forward to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking out for Damian, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bruce.”

––––––––––––––––––––

#jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #father of mine bonus content #Father of Mine #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #batboys #batfam #batman family #batsis #batfam x batsis

2K notes · View notes

heliads · 4 years ago

Text

Crows

Everyone has a symbol on their palm that somehow relates to your soulmate. You have a crow, which led to you joining the Dregs in Ketterdam. Every Dreg has a soulmate symbol that in no way relates to you- except Kaz Brekker, as no one has seen his palm at all.

masterlist

You stare at the crow inked into your palm. It stares back at you.

You hesitate for a second longer, then snap your hand shut, letting the unblinking eyes of the black bird disappear back behind your fingers. This is the price of a soulmate, of wandering too far from your home and never finding the one person you were meant to belong to. This is the price of being a canal rat, a Grisha, of being anybody still foolish enough to believe in a soulmate in the midst of all this darkness.

Soulmates may technically be real, but people only believe in them as much as they do Inej’s Saints, or anybody else’s long-held dreams. Between the wars and Shadow Folds springing up across the world, it’s getting pretty hard for anyone to find their soulmate at all. It’s supposed to be simple- one mark on each person’s palm to designate their soulmate, a mark that will disappear at the first touch of their hand on yours. Sometimes, you wonder what mark would be on your soulmate’s skin: a flame or sparking coal, maybe, for your branch of the Small Science, or a skull, for all the death that seems to shadow your path.

The crow has been on your palm for as long as you can remember, as long as anyone has ever had a soulmate. It was there when you were born, but judging by your trend in luck, it’ll probably be there until the day you die. Soulmates aren’t for girls like you, girls who flee their homes to trade a life amongst the Grisha for a death in the gray-streaked streets of Ketterdam.

You were born an Inferni, that much is true. You witnessed the Ravkan civil war, and you were there to flee it for safer tides. You weren’t sure what cruel twist of fate landed you in Ketterdam, one of the worst places for a Grisha, but you were at least able to keep your identity a secret. You’d seen what happened to the luckless Grisha trapped inside neverending indentures, and you know what tortures would await you if word of your firestarting habit got out. So, you never spoke a word, and pretended you were just another otkazat’sya traveler in need of safe harbors.

You hadn’t been wandering the canals long before your path turned into the Barrel. It wasn’t an intentional choice, just an eventual fate that you would end up in the worst part of the twisting sidestreets. There was no escaping the Barrel, not unless you were a wealthy mercher or some other lucky sap who the Saints blessed with the ability to avoid getting dragged down into the muck like everyone else. You learned the names and locations of all the gangs like everyone else: Black Tips, Dime Lions, and most notably, the Dregs.

Your breath had caught in your chest when you heard of them. They frequented the Crow Club, some were called the crows themselves, their leader had a crow on his cane. Everything seemed to point in a glaringly obvious arrow towards your soulmate mark: a crow for a crow. Where else could you have ended up?

You knew better now. You had met Kaz Brekker, the boy with the crow cane, and you knew that any chance of finding a soulmate among his crew was near impossible. You had been walking home after dark one night when you found yourself set upon by a duo of thugs. Not Dregs, possibly Dime Lions with a bone to pick, angry that the Dregs had such control over the pigeons of Fifth Harbor. They had been expecting an easy mark, somebody they could thunk over the head with a pair of brass knuckles and walk away without a scratch. They weren’t expecting you to beat them into the dust in a matter of seconds.

No matter your status or location, you were still a Grisha, and you’d been trained by Botkin long enough to be able to defend yourself. When the goons were finally laid at your feet, unconscious, you had allowed yourself a moment to smile. It was easy to feel low, a gutter rat in the canals of Ketterdam, but being able to use your fists again almost reminded you of the training halls at the Little Palace.

Enjoying this one brief memory, though, was a slip that you shouldn’t have made. When you looked up, you weren’t alone- a boy stood before you, gloved hands clasped over a crow’s head cane. You didn’t particularly know who he was, or make the connection between him and the Dregs, and moved to get out of the alleyway before he decided to make the same mistake as the thugs. He had slid his cane in front of you, fast as lightning, stopping you in your place. “I think we should speak about your future in Ketterdam.”

You were annoyed at this sudden interruption. “I think you should leave me alone.” You had retorted, using your hand to move his cane back in front of him. You had also been irritated, both by the fight and this boy’s brashness, and slipped your hand into his pocket for just a second to retrieve a newly shined pocketwatch. No one could have possibly seen it, this tiny movement, and the boy certainly didn’t, as he let you pass without another word.

You were still grumbling when you got back to the ramshackle building you called an apartment complex, and your landlady had raised an eyebrow when she saw you. “What, have you finally realized that it was a fool’s errand to come here?” She asked, and you shook your head. “No, just bothered by some guy with a crow’s head cane. Weird prop to carry around.” The woman had blanched, face suddenly seeming to age a decade in a second.

She had bustled over to you, voice low as if terrified that the boy might be able to hear her. “That’s Kaz Brekker, you fool. He runs the Dregs. Saints, he might even run this city.” She had hurried away from you then, forcing herself back to her work. Even then, you had known she was wrong. There was nothing the Saints could know about Kaz Brekker, nothing they could even hope to involve themselves in.

You had shaken the experience away, climbing up the stairs to your apartment. When you pushed open the door, however, you saw that you were not alone. The boy from earlier was back, this time leaning against the far wall. He gestured for you to close the door, which you did, albeit hesitantly. You had no idea how he got in- you had changed the locks when you first arrived at the apartment all those weeks ago, barred the windows, made it impossible for anyone except you to make their way inside. Yet here he stood, with knowledge of both where you lived and how to get there before you. It was impossible. Well, impossible for anyone except Kaz. The Barrel was his home, after all, and you doubt Dirtyhands had ever bothered to knock.

His fingers tapped the crow’s head of his cane. “I don’t think we quite finished our conversation. You could do more than just wash dishes, you know. The Dregs could always use a new member. That, and I’d like you to return what you stole from me. I’m impressed, actually. No one is that good at pickpocketing except me, and no one would try something that daring except for, well, me. I think you’d fit in nicely with my gang.”

You had folded your arms across your chest. “And I’m meant to believe that my pickpocketing was impressive enough to warrant a visit from Dirtyhands himself?” Kaz had shrugged, the movement stiff in the darkness. “You can believe whatever you want. I just want to see if you’ll take a good offer when you see one.” After a while, you had accepted, and Kaz had left, but not before whispering something in your ear. “If you steal from me again, I will cut off both of your hands. I don’t tolerate theft, not from me.”

You had heard enough threats to know that he meant good on this one. As it turned out, however, Kaz would not have to fear theft from you again. You found a home amongst the Dregs, a home you weren’t likely to give up due to the thrill of pickpocketing Kaz Brekker. You had a room at the Slat, a place at the table, a voice in the masses. It was something you weren’t willing to trade away.

Even amongst the many crows of Kaz Brekker’s gang, however, you still couldn’t let the issue of your soulmate go. You can remember one night, late into the night’s bells when you, Inej, Jesper, Matthias, and Nina had all made the journey up to Kaz’s office, slumped against chairs and floorboards and chatting the night away. Kaz was sitting at his desk, apparently doing paperwork, but you did notice that he kept coincidentally chiming into conversations even when he said he wasn’t paying attention.

At some point, Nina steered the conversation to soulmates. She held up her now blank palm, proclaiming that at some point it had held a wolf’s head. She had been terrified, she said, terrified that she would have a drüskelle or some other weirdo for a soulmate. Matthias had acted affronted at that, but if he was feeling particularly charitable he might relent and tell the gathered Crows about how he’d had a heart on his hand, and how frustrated he’d been when it had disappeared the second he’d locked Nina away on that slaver’s ship.

Nina had turned to Kaz then, intent on poking the bear and having some sort of fun that night. “So, Brekker, what’s your soulmate mark? Or do you not do that sort of zealot human thing we call soulmates?” Kaz had raised his eyebrows, looking distinctly bored. Of everyone in the room, you’re pretty sure that only you and Inej would be able to tell that he was holding back a smile.

“I’m not entirely a monster, Zenik. I do have a soulmate.” Nina had leaned forward, intent on clarification. “Then what’s the mark? We can’t just take a gander at your palm, remember? They’re hidden by your gloves.” Kaz had let his papers fall back to the desk with a thunk, turning to her with an expression laced with both exasperation and studied disinterest. “It’s a fire. A small flame. Happy?”

Nina had looked fascinated. “Beatific. I wonder what that means. An Inferni, maybe?” She wiggled her eyebrows at Kaz. “Maybe it’s supposed to show that they’re devilishly attractive. Really hot, get it?” Kaz had made a sound that was either a dry cough or his best attempt at a laugh. “Hilarious, Nina. I see why you’re a Heartrender- you could make a person want to die based on your jokes alone.”

Nina had acted affronted, making sure everybody knew that her jokes were hilarious, thank you very much, but you couldn’t help but think about the repercussions of this. What if Nina’s first guess was right, and Kaz’s soulmate was an Inferni, like you? If your tattoo was of a crow, and Kaz’s was of flames, then surely it was too much to just be a coincidence. You’d never know, anyway, because soulmate marks only disappeared on flesh to flesh contact. Kaz always wore gloves, so you’d never find out the truth. Besides, you remind yourself, the chances of this were superbly unlikely. A crow could mean anything, so could a flame. You need to stop getting your hopes up.

Despite the possibilities and impossibilities, you’ve still been running with the canal rats long enough to know that you can’t dwell forever on what might have been. You’re a Dreg now and you need to focus on that instead. When Kaz announces an upcoming settlement with the Razorgulls, yet another one of the gangs that roam the streets of Ketterdam, you’re eager for a chance at something entertaining after a long while of nothing. Kaz will meet with the leader to negotiate their way through a claim on the various pigeons coming and going from the harbors, and that will be that.

However, this is the Barrel. Negotiations are rarely easy. This is why, when Jesper arrives as Kaz’s second, he’s shunted aside to a separate room to stay out the duration of the meeting. Kaz and the leader of the Razorgulls are on the opposite side of the street in an empty courtyard, far away from any help should they need it. Kaz was prepared for this, as always, and set up a plan. Inej will shadow Jesper, making sure that he’ll have a way out if he needs it, and you’ll be shadowing Kaz himself. You’re not sure why Kaz chose you instead of his faithful Wraith, only that he rarely makes decisions based on nothing and you would do best to follow his judgement. The times he’s let you down are few and far between.

You and Inej split up, staying amongst the rooftops to avoid detection. She follows Jesper and the Razorgulls’ second into a crowded tavern, and you head towards the abandoned courtyard. Ahead of you, Kaz’s cane taps against the crooked cobblestones as he wends through desiccated hedges and marble statues severely lashed by time. The Razorgulls’ leader is waiting for him there, but you can’t follow now. Instead, you stick to the edges, climbing stairs and making your way into the empty buildings that watch over the courtyard like silent sentries.

You’re not sure what trouble you’ll be walking into, only that it will exist in some crooked form. There’s no logical reason the Razorgulls would want the seconds in another building unless they were planning something, and no reason Kaz would agree to this at all if he wasn’t sure you could have his back when he needed it. As you creep along the buildings, keeping a careful eye on the proceedings through the few broken windows, you notice that the two gang leaders have begun to speak. You can’t quite hear what they’re saying, only a few whispers here and there.

You’re just rounding a corner, ready to make your way into a neighbouring building, when the lights flash off, landing you in darkness. Instantly, you panic. Lighting is scarce here, only the moonbeams and a couple of oil lamps, but there’s no reason they should have shut down this quickly. You hear footsteps on the stairs, along with two pairs of voices: Razorgulls, discussing how important it is to stick to the shadows so Brekker can’t see them.

Your heartbeat thuds in the dark as you realize they haven’t spotted you yet. In fact, they have no idea you’re there at all. When Kaz was giving directions for the negotiations, he specifically told you to make sure that you weren’t seen, even if rival gang members showed up. If you want to go along with his plan and make sure he lives to see the end of this shoddy deal, you’ll have to stay in hiding.

This, however, is easier said than done. If the lights were on, you would be able to see the wooden beams of the floor and tell which ones would creak and which wouldn’t, which large shapes of furniture to avoid and which holes in the floorboards you should step over. A chill washes over you as you realize what you’ll have to do. You move your fingers together, quick as scraping flint against steel, and a small flame materializes at the pad of your index finger. It’s small, barely visible to anyone except you, but it’s enough to help you get out of the room before the Razorgulls notice you.

Even as the thrill of using your Grisha power after so long sends a charge of energy through your veins, you can’t help but feel uneasy. The only reason you’ve been able to survive in the Barrel and avoid unwholesome indentures is because you never used your power, not once. Even if it was necessary, this still feels bad.

You’ve found a new hiding place in the corner of the room and move to extinguish your flame now that it’s no longer useful. However, it’s been too long since you last used your powers as an Inferni, and your concentration wavers. The flame grows brighter and you start to panic, eventually clamping down your mind and forcing the fire to disappear.

The disappearance comes too late. The Razorgulls have seen some light in the shadow that wasn’t supposed to be there and are now edging your way, careful not to let you out of their sight. You have no choice but to take them down, standing over their unconscious bodies and feeling a wave of nerves crest over you. Kaz specifically said not to mess with the gangs, but you had no choice. You can only hope that this won’t ruin his plan too much.

Quietly, you step through the room and unlock a window, letting the panes move open in the wind. Now, you can hear the voices echoing up from the courtyard, and your heart sinks as you realize that things aren’t going well. The leader of the Razorgulls has revealed his ace in the hole, that he’s got guns trained on Kaz right now. Kaz just laughs, the sound as cold as rocks scraping against a ship’s hull, ready to damn a hundred men to the depths of the ocean.

“Do you, though? Who are the men you sent up- Dirk Struik and Niels ter Avest? Your coffers may be deep, but mine are more extensive. Gentlemen, take down this man, if you please.” Your stomach twists as you realize Kaz was counting on the men you just knocked out. Without them, he’s alone with a man pointing a gun at his skull. There’s no way around this- you’re going to have to break your most cherished rule again.

You thrust your palms out in front of you, letting tendrils of flame arc out of your hands and cascade onto the leader of the Razorgulls. He twists in agony, burns appearing on his skin. He only suffers for a moment or two, however, until he becomes unconscious due to the pain. Kaz’s head jerks up, staring at you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Kaz Brekker truly surprised, but he most certainly was not expecting this.

You don’t think there’s anything you can do except try to explain yourself. You jump down from the open window, letting your heels land lightly on the stones of the courtyard. Kaz seems frozen in place for a second, then moves forward until you’re standing only a few feet apart. Your breath comes wild in your chest. Kaz speaks after the longest of moments. “Where were the guards?”

You hold up your hands uselessly. “They saw me. I had to take them out.” Kaz’s eyes dart to your palms, faster than a sharpshooter pulling the trigger. He takes in the smoke still curling around your fingers, then the crow mark in the middle of your hand. When he speaks again, his voice has lost its icy edge. He just sounds like a boy again, young and confused.

“You never told me you were an Inferni.” You sigh. “It was a secret I needed to keep. You know what happens in the Barrel, the indentures and the tortures. If I used my powers, I would have died a long time ago.” Kaz jerks his head in a harsh nod. “I don’t blame you for surviving. We have all committed worse crimes to live” Your voice gains a confidence it didn’t have before. “Then what do you blame me for? You’re upset, anyone could tell that. If it’s not with me keeping my Grisha abilities a secret, then what is it?”

Kaz hesitates, as if pulling himself back from a yawning chasm. “Me.” You stare at him, at the indecision wracking his brow, then at the way he’s pulling at the glove at his palm. His hands almost seem to shake, like he’s still not sure that he’s doing the right thing. He pulls the glove off, inch by inch, seeming to dread every second that his hands aren’t covered by the black leather. At last, you see it- the mark on his palm, the flame sparking into being right there on his hand.

He reaches out tentatively. “I need to know.” He manages, and at last you understand. You move your own hand slowly, stopping when it’s only a few inches away from his. Kaz squares his shoulders, as if preparing to jump from another broken building, then closes the distance and lets his hand rest lightly on yours. As you watch, your soulmate tattoos shimmer for a second and then vanish, erasing from your skin as if they’d never been there at all.

Kaz lets his gaze linger on the empty skin of your palm, and then he seems to come back into himself, snatching his hand away like he’s flinching from a blow. You can see it in his eyes that he regrets this, that he can’t keep his hand there, but you understand. You can understand quite a lot from him.

Kaz’s voice is like the grating of metal. “I’m not somebody you want as a soulmate. It won’t be easy. It won’t be good.” You laugh quietly in the night. “If I wanted something easy, I would have never come to Ketterdam.” Kaz nods at this, something almost like relief in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.” You manage. Something almost like a smile flits across Kaz’s face. “Good. We have much to discuss.”

1K notes · View notes

lokislastlove · 4 years ago

Text

Come One, Come All (dark!Loki x reader)

Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, knife play, oral (m&f), smut, bondage, kidnapping.

This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

Authors Note: I wrote another one! No idea where this came from, but it was fun to write. Still working on improving my smut, huge thanks to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for some tips and editing the shit out of it. 😘 also I know there is a creepy clown in the pic but I feel like I have to say there aren’t any clowns in the fic. I hate clowns.

Chapter 1:

It was the kind of summer night you dream about, warm enough to keep you comfortable in your shorts and peasant top, but with a light breeze that keeps you cool enough to fight the flush of alcohol in your veins. You look forward to these moments when you are able to go out with your girlfriends and let loose, forgetting about all life’s responsibilities, if just for a single night.

“Come on!” Ash calls over her shoulder, her hand tight around your wrist pulling you impatiently.

“Aww but that looks so good” you groan as you press your face longingly against the glass barrier of the hand dipped corn dog cart.

The sweet scent of the frying corn dough wafts tantalizingly through the air making your mouth water. You friends laugh at your theatrics, having just helped you scarf down a large sugary funnel cake and a platter of nachos, the evidence of which still stains the corner of your mouth. Really, it was their fault for getting you tipsy before taking you to the county fair, everything just smelled heavenly and if you could you would try one of everything.

“Just a slushee?!” You beg as Jen steps behind you and pushes you out of the food court, giggling the entire time.

“Come on, fight the drunchies! You promised you would try that new funhouse,” Jen whines, looping her arm through yours, Ash doing the same on the other side.

“Oh yeah,” you grumble.

“Oh stop it” Ash scolds playfully. “Everyone at work keeps talking about it - it’s like a mini escape room! And I’ve always wanted to do one, please.” She rants excitedly before giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh that’s cheating. No one can resist those big brown eyes” you pout, but yield as easily as they knew you would.

“I know” Ash smirks, tossing back her long silky black hair over her slender shoulder.

“This is gonna be so much fun, I promise” Jen bumps your hip, giving you a wide encouraging smile.

You manage a strained grin as you let them lead you through the crowd. It’s not that you don’t like funhouses or the idea of doing an escape room, having always loved solving riddles and doing puzzles. It’s just you don’t like clowns, and every funhouse in your experience has at least one.

“Oh damn there’s a line!” Jen moans as you all stop in front of a large structure covered in flashing lights, the ominous ‘Tricksters Trap’ bathing your face in a violent red glow.

Garish contrasting colors somehow both attract your eye and make it hard to look at. Your pupils dilate with the lines of fluorescent bulbs burning into your retinas. The stereotypical circus music blares through the cheap speakers, reminding you of one of those old Jack in the box toys. And of course, without fail, was the obligatory clown statue hanging over the entrance, like some creepy sentinel there to guide you to your inevitable demise.

“Ugh fucking clowns” you grimace as you pass by the entrance, heading toward the end of the line.

“Yeah they definitely nailed the creep factor,” Jen agrees, her eyes shining with nervous excitement.

“I know isn’t it great?!” Ash squeals.

You stand there taking in the horrific detailing painted on the side of the metal structure. You are thankful when Ash explains there is a time limit, only ten minutes to complete the puzzle or else they kick you out and you have to try again. If you figure out the puzzle you get to leave through the mirror maze and you earn the coveted “I tricked the Trickster” sticker.

“Gotta get that sticker, or else that bitch Katie at work will never let me forget that she got one and I didn’t” Ash complains, causing you and Jen to share a look and snicker.

“Hey! Don’t laugh, this is serious! We gotta be smart and figure this out, failure is not an option” she urges dramatically before collapsing into drunken giggles with you and Jen.

“You ladies seem eager to prove yourselves,” slithers a low voice.

Startled you gasp and spin around quickly. The three of you look up at the tall lean figure standing behind you. He wears a perfectly tailored black ensemble, that matches the color of his slicked back hair. His eyes practically glow green against his alabaster complexion. His sharp cheekbones and angular jaw make your breath hitch, causing his thin lips to curve into a sinister smirk. He is stunning.

“Um, yeah. Well this place has the whole town buzzin’. Seems like everyone is talking about it” Jen is the first to speak.

“Ah I see. Wouldn’t want to miss your chance to take a stab at it” the mysterious man surmised, eyes focused on you.

“We got this shit. Right guys?” Ash assures him as she playfully smacks you and Jen.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out. Good luck,” he challenges with a raise of a brow.

You stare after him as he saunters away without another word. His hips and shoulders sway smoothly, his soft footsteps giving him a dangerous almost feline vibe, like he could rival even the most deadly of predators. As he turns to round the corner of the ride he takes one last look over his shoulder at you. Your eyes lock for only a fraction of a second but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

“That was weird, right?” You mutter, eyes still transfixed where he disappeared.

“Eh, just another creepy dude. If I had a nickel for every weirdo who tries to chat me up…” Jen jokes.

“You’d have like a whole 50 cents,” sasses Ash.

You are finally broken from your daze when Ash is pushed into you. You laugh and try to brush off the lingering effect of the handsome stranger, shifting your focus back to your friends. The line goes by quicker than expected, with only one group out of the three ahead of you making it out with stickers. The losing groups return to the line from a back door, bickering about where they went wrong.

Finally it is your turn. Ash claps her hands excitedly, dancing up the metal stairs to the costumed man at the entrance. His red and white stripped suit is expertly torn and painted with fake blood to make him look as intimidating as possible. With a tip of his top hat he welcomes the three of you and begins to explain the rules in his well practiced accent.

“Come one come all to the Tricksters Trap, if you’re feeling lost, just go find the map.” He sings with flair and a perfectly timed bow, directing you to the inauspicious black door.

Taking a deep breath you follow your squealing friends into the darkened hallway. Pausing to look back as the door creaks shut, cutting off the jovial sounds of laughter and chatter with a sudden slam. You flinch at the loud noise and turn back to the dim hallway. The short corridor is lined with wall to wall green velvet curtains barely visible with the green rope lights running along the ceiling.

“Guys?” You whisper when you don’t see them next to you, causing your heart rate to quicken

You call for them again, this time louder, your feet unwilling to move from the spot. It has only been thirty seconds and you are already about to call it quits. Get a grip. You take a hesitant step forward.

“You guys?!” You call shakily.

“Hey! Come on we found the map!” Jen pokes her head from around the corner at the end of the hall.

She disappears just as quickly, waving her arm for you to follow. You breathe a sigh of relief and rush after her. You enter a large room filled with all sorts of random objects. It’s as if it is designed to overload your senses. The green from the hall carried on into the room, more velvet green curtains hung on the walls that were not obstructed by shelves of books or other oddities. You saw everything from perfectly aligned glass jars filled with alien looking creatures, grandfather clocks, to treasure chests overflowing with grizzled toys.

Jen and Ash are hunched over a table with a map spread out smoothly. It was easy enough to see it was a map of the room and hallway, with what appeared to be three small rooms hidden along the wall behind the heavy green drapery. You go over and pull back a curtain and find a locked door, the other two also hiding a locked door.

“Ok so it looks like we gotta find a way to open these doors” you offer, your anxiety calming a bit as you focus on the mystery at hand.

“Hey look there is some sort of code over here by the lock on the door.” Ash hollers excitedly.

You each pick a door code and frantically search the room. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out you need to use the books on the large shelf along one wall. The first number tells you the book the second refers to a specific page. You find a slip of paper in the book with a riddle written in a blood red ink.

“I make two people out of one” You read aloud.

“You can hold me in one hand, but I’m used to fill the room” Ash reads hers, her face twisting in concentration.

You both look to Jen, “I have two hands, but I can’t clap.”

“Damn no wonder so many people failed, definitely wish I wasn’t drunk right now” Ash laughs.

“No no we can do this, it’s probably items in the room so let’s just focus. We’ll do one at a time.” You assert, pacing the room and trying to take in all the random objects.

“Two hands…” you mutter as you stop in front of a large grandfather clock. “Clocks have hands!” You yell excitedly and open the narrow door.

The heavy pendulums swing inside and you see a shining silver glint off the rounded golden end. You pull off the small silver key, stuck on by a tiny magnet, and jump in excitement.

“Holy crap! You’re a genius!” Jen exclaims running over to take the key and try it in the door.

The key slides in smoothly and the door opens with a gratifying click.

“Woo! Keep going, you are on a roll!” Ash claps as she cheers you on.

“Ok, ok” you giggle before taking a deep breath. “Two people out of one… maybe a camera? Or wait…” you realize as you stare at Ash currently checking her makeup in an antique mirror hung between two curtains.

“Ash! Try pulling on that mirror!” You yell pointing frantically at the mirror in front of her.

Her brows knit together briefly before understanding, grabbing the frame and tugging gently until it swings open, revealing a key hung on the wall.

“Yes!” You all shriek together.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and a loud maniacal cackle reverberates through the surround sound speaker, turning your elation into yelps of surprise.

“Two minutes left” a familiar polished voice echoes forebodingly throughout the room.

“Shit, that scared the crap out of me” Jen laughs clutching at her chest.

The warning gives you pause, managing to shift the spirit of the whole room. Ash giggles nervously as she watches the lights of the room transition from their previous dim yellow light to a menacing red hue. The mood lighting in addition to the increasing volume of the horror soundtrack playing over the speaker helps to put you back into your initial anxious state.

“Seriously? Is this fucking necessary?” You curse, shaking your head.

“Ok let’s get the last one guys! We can still do this!” Jen yells through the cacophony of sound effects.

“Yeah what can we fit in our hand but somehow also fills the room?” Ash reiterated the final riddle.

“These red lights make it so much harder to see” Jen complains bitterly as she rummages through the items inside a large chest.

“Lights… Jen that’s it! A lightbulb!” A smile breaks out on your face as you figure out the final clue.

“Look up there!” Ash points to a solitary darkened light bulb screwed into the ceiling.

“I got it.” Jen jumps onto the table and reaches up, unscrewing it quickly. “There is a key inside!” She shouts.

She unscrews the bottom of the fake lightbulb and received the key before handing it to Ash. Each of you run over to the corresponding doors and turn the key, squealing in delight when they all slide open.

“Is that it?” Jen asks looking into the cramped dark space behind the door.

It was little more than a closet. Barely enough room for each of you to stand in. You were at a loss. You could have sworn that would be the end.

“Guys there is a lever here on the back wall of mine, how about yours?” Ash’s muffled voice calls from inside her closet.

“Oh yeah mine too!” Jen replies.

“Do you think we have to pull them at the same time? ‘Cus mine did nothing when I tried it” Ash says poking her head out to look at you.

“Thirty seconds!” That haunting voice booms again as a tick clock sounds through the speakers, counting down your final moments.

“Ok let’s try it together!” You nod at both of them, before stepping into the tight dark space.

“THREE! TWO! ONE!” You shout, mirroring your friends calls, pulling down your lever with a snap.

There is a moment of silence as the lights of the room behind you suddenly go dark, the music and sound effects cutting off instantly.

“Did we get it?!” You yell.

You don’t get the chance to hear your friends response as the wood door slams behind you, locking you into the small space.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

#dark fic #dark Loki #dark loki x reader #tom hiddleston #come one come all

318 notes · View notes

writertitan · 4 years ago

Text

Fate

pairing: levi x reader

word count: 5291 (not sorry)

themes: mentions of minor character death, nightmares, sassy!reader, confused!levi

requested by iman-the-simp

The breeze was harsh and whipped at your body as you made your way to your temporary lodging. It had been a long day of meetings with your new superiors, getting up to speed on what it meant to be a soldier, and trying not to lose your cool. There had also been a lot of spying, and whether they were aware that you noticed or not, apparently it didn’t really matter. After all, they were still trying to figure out where to put you and they knew you’d have to go along with whatever they said. Would you be most useful in the Garrison Regiment, or perhaps with the Military Police? Pyxis had basically vetoed placing you with the Scouts and part of you was relieved for that. Your set of skills were put to use when defending someone, not fighting someone. Or, in this case, fighting something.

You shuddered at the thought of having to face a titan in the flesh.

The door to your room came into view and you relaxed a little, ready to just take a breather alone, but the call of your name made you tense up and turn around slowly to see who was calling you. It was an MP, a new recruit, and it took you a minute to remember her name.

“Private Hitch,” you greeted her cordially, her name finally popping into your head, but you couldn’t hide the irritation that edged your words. What could she possibly want? She’d been one of the spies you’d caught watching you today, and she’d done her duty very poorly.

“Sorry, I know this is a pain, but...you’re wanted for another meeting tonight and I’m supposed to take you,” she explained. You noted the way she tensed around you, and the slight shakiness in her voice as she spoke to you, though she did a decent job of trying to remain calm. You could only imagine the rumors going around about you.

With a loud and exasperated sigh, you ran a hand over your head and gave her a frown, though it wasn’t directed at her, despite her willingness to spy on you all day; you were upset with the situation you were finding yourself in, and how it somehow got worse and worse. You just wanted to be alone.

“Fine,” you quipped, and followed her along long hallways and past closed doors with muffled voices on the other side, until you got to a familiar one. This had been one of the meeting rooms you were constantly finding yourself in these days.

Hitch opened the door and let you in, and you stepped inside rather confidently, though you had no idea what this was about.

You saw a few familiar faces as your eyes scanned the room. There was Pyxis, Zachary, and Dok, and...new faces. Confused, you tilted your head to the side as your eyes met blue ones, and then grey ones.

“Who am I meeting today?” you asked bluntly, looking towards Pyxis, the friendliest one of the group.

He was already smiling warmly, beckoning for you to come and sit. You did so, opting to sit as far away from them all as possible.

“No need to be upset,” Pyxis told you, gesturing towards the two new faces at the table. “This is Commander Erwin of the Scout Regiment. And this is Captain Levi.” He pointed out Commander Erwin as the blond, and Captain Levi as the black-haired man. When Levi glared at you, you glared back.

“Don’t worry,” he started, “I don’t know what I’m doing here, either. This is clearly more of a meeting for the higher-ups.”

The last sentence was directed more towards Erwin, but Erwin didn’t indulge him with an explanation. His eyes were trained on you, examining you shamelessly. You’d only heard snippets about Commander Erwin, but of course had never seen him in person. All of this was new to you.

“You’ve got quite the skill set, I’m told,” he greeted you. His voice was deep. Even though he spoke calmly, his voice seemed to boom. Definitely a Commander.

“You could say that,” you replied, eyes shifting to Captain Levi briefly. The way he seemed to stiffen up and also examine you a little harder caught your attention right away. It was as though whatever Erwin had said triggered him. What was his deal?

Erwin chuckled at your demeanor, which caught you off guard. And the fact that you were once again caught off guard by someone made you mad. It was the reason you were here in the first place. Pyxis had laughed at you the first time he’d laid eyes on you, much like Erwin, and it was so disarming. Now look at yourself.

As soon as you realized your mistake, you fixed it. Straightening up and hardening your gaze, you met Erwin’s eyes without hesitation, even going so far as to quirk up an eyebrow. In a way, you were challenging him to just get to the point. You’d have liked for this meeting to be done with as soon as possible.

From beside Erwin, Captain Levi scoffed a little.

“I know Darius Zachary and Commander Pyxis are deliberating on where to put you, in their respective regiments,” Erwin began, “but I was hoping to speak with you about joining the Scouts.”

“This is only a formality,” Zachary immediately interrupted, shooting Erwin a glare. “This is not to be taken seriously.”

“Duly noted,” you replied coolly, arms folded over your chest as you stared between all of them. Your glare faltered when your eyes met Levi’s again. He was struggling to pick an emotion. You saw him waver between annoyance and curiosity and even confusion, if you were reading him right. And, usually, you were spot on.

Pyxis laughed that same laugh that had taken you by surprise and gotten you caught, and you looked at him with a bewildered expression, never failing to be surprised by his reactions to things. The atmosphere was so tense. How could he always find it in him to laugh at any situation?

“We all know you’re pushing hard to have our little prodigy in the Military Police, Zachary, but please remember that there is a process to these things,” Pyxis chided gently, a smile ever-present on his face, and then it seemed like he had taken everyone by surprise at that. Nonetheless, it got Zachary to back off and lean back in his chair, silently allowing for whatever was happening to continue.

Erwin cleared his throat and leaned forward, eyes intent and determined as they stared right at you. “Whether you think so or not, your talents would be highly advantageous in the Scout Regiment. I believe we’d benefit from how you’ve used those talents, on the field. The Scouts also have much more experience with...less traditional ways of recruitment. It would be an easier transition than transitioning into a soldier with the Military Police or the Garrison Regiment. We’re willing to work with you.”

It was difficult to keep your gaze fixed on Commander Erwin when Captain Levi was practically twitching beside him, eyes slightly wider now as he stared at you, clearly trying to figure you out. Your eyes flickered over to him more than once, your own gaze questioning him, but eventually you were able to ignore the captain and focus solely on Erwin. Maybe Levi was just a weirdo. That’s what you’d heard about the Scouts anyway; all of them were outcasts in their own right.

“I ask this in the most respectful way possible...you’re asking me to voluntarily get eaten by titans?” you asked Commander Erwin, your eyebrow again raised up as if to challenge him. Nile Dok, who had been silent this entire time, actually guffawed.

“I’m asking you to risk your life considerably more than if you joined the Garrison or Military Police, yes,” Erwin answered, honest as ever. It did surprise you a little, but you were careful not to show him.

You didn’t answer right away but met everyone’s gaze calmly, all of them very concentrated on you and you alone. Clearly, you had every opportunity to have your fun with them. Maybe pretending to consider joining the Scouts could buy you a little alone time, force everyone to leave you be. Even if just for a little while.

A sigh escaped your mouth and that little noise alone made all five men lean in closer. As fun as it would have been to string them all along while you figured out a way out of this mess, you knew it would be no use.

“I’m not really into risking my life unnecessarily,” you said.

To his credit, Commander Erwin didn’t show any sign of disappointment or discontent in your answer. He must have fully expected it.

Levi looked to him then, back to being stoic and unreadable, but you caught a flicker of something in his eyes as he gazed at his commander. The emotion was gone before you could really make it out.

“For what it’s worth, it wouldn’t be an unnecessary risk,” Erwin said, ignoring Levi’s steely gaze. “You’d be doing something meaningful. And you’d be avenging those you’ve lost.”

Commander Erwin’s last words made your heart stop beating.

He got up calmly, like he hadn’t said something so earth-shattering, and Captain Levi followed suit automatically. You barely registered Commander Erwin saying something about it being nice to meet you before walking out with Levi. You barely registered that you were also standing up, following them despite calls from Zachary and Dok to stay where you were, but of course, you didn’t listen to them. You were only fully aware, fully back in your body, as you stopped at the corner Levi and Erwin had rounded, keeping yourself hidden as you peeked out and listened to their conversation.

“- should have known you’d brought me for a reason,” you heard Levi say. “I guess I’m not surprised that you’re resorting to ‘less traditional’ approaches to recruitment, as you so eloquently put it.”

Erwin chuckled.

“Thanks for coming, Levi. What did you think?”

“I think the kid’s sassy as hell. Don’t tell me I was like that,” Levi replied. Their voices were fading away the farther they walked down the hall.

“You were, and still are, very much like that.”

Before they turned another corner and were completely out of your line of sight, Levi paused and turned his head to look over his shoulder, meeting your gaze instantly. You felt your face grow hot but didn’t look away or try to hide; no use in hiding when you’ve already been caught.

The quirk of his eyebrow was almost mocking as he disappeared around another corner with Commander Erwin. But, more than mocking, it was challenging.

You set your laughably small sack of belongings on your new bed, taking a look around at your new room.

Temporary bed, temporary room, you thought to yourself, huffing a little as you sat on the edge and then flopped down to stare at the ceiling, legs still flopping off the edge. There was no way you were actually going to join the Scout Regiment. No way in hell. You were just here temporarily, to learn about their techniques, their day-to-day, and how you could potentially be useful in this regiment.

The scrubby window showed nothing but the black of night, a faint orange glow of a lantern outside the only real source of light besides the burning candle on the dresser across from your bed. The bed was creaky and the blankets were scratchy, not as good as what you’d had when you were temporarily lodging over with the Military Police. Still, you were hoping for more peace and quiet here, ironically, than you’d had back there with the MPs.

Though sleep should have been calling your name, you fought it with every fiber of your being, as you’d been doing for weeks now. There was, admittedly, a part of you that was exhausted, but the part of you that was overwhelming and overpowering told you to stay awake, for many reasons.

In an effort to distract yourself, you got yourself situated and put away what few belongings you had and were able to bring along with you, and then took out the leather journal you had somehow managed to keep to start writing down the events of the day. But all of that was done soon enough, and you didn’t want to waste paper on another mundane day, so you got up to exit your room and explore.

Commander Erwin and Squad Leader Hange had already given you a tour of the grounds, but it had been quick and, if you were being honest with yourself, you hadn’t really paid much attention. Why would you, when this wasn’t permanent? This was just a formality, as Zachary had reminded you time and time again. There was no need in remembering every detail of this place.

Silence and darkness engulfed you as you walked along the hall, vaguely remembering where the dining area was. You’d brought your candle along for extra light, fingers hooked around the brass handle of the holder as you made your way to...well, wherever you were going.

About to give up and turn back and hopefully find your way back, your eyes caught another flickering flame around the corner. When you rounded it, you were surprised to see a head of cropped black hair that was becoming increasingly familiar. Although you hadn’t spoken to Captain Levi since the meeting, you’d glimpsed him around the grounds during your arrival and subsequent tour. His back was always turned to you, or his profile was visible but he would never look at you. Any curiosity he’d had about you seemed to have been squashed. For some reason, that bothered you.

He didn’t look up from his cup of tea and stack of papers. But he did acknowledge the extra presence by calling out, “It’s well past your bedtime, brat. You better be halfway back to your room by the time I turn around.”

“That’s no way to talk to your subordinates,” you said without missing a beat, fighting the urge to smirk when Levi’s head whipped around. “I’m not your subordinate, though.”

Levi frowned at you, but didn’t look away. “Technically, you are while you’re still here.”

You frowned at that and walked over to where he sat, setting the saucer holding your candle next to his and sitting down.

“So, why are you still awake? Like you said, it’s past bedtime,” you said with an air of casualty, back pressing into the chair as you studied the man in front of you. Levi was definitely a force to be reckoned with. His attitude was obvious, of course, but there was something determined and unyielding in his eyes. His stoic demeanor was still edged with that same unstoppable nature. Captain Levi was definitely interesting.

You should have known from your few observations alone that Levi wouldn’t answer your question, but it still irked you when he didn’t even acknowledge it and went back to working his quill on the papers in front of him.

“Sorry I asked,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes, but then turned your attention to those papers with intrigue. “What are you working on?”

“Nothing.”

“...Can I help?”

“No.”

You huffed, annoyed, definitely about to say something snarky, but Levi cut you off before you could lash out.

“This is exactly why you should go to bed, kid. You’re getting cranky,” he said, sounding almost bored.

Maybe it was true. Maybe you were cranky from your lack of sleep. Maybe it would all come crashing down on you, the weight of everything that’s happened, and if you’d just rest, things would feel better. You would feel better. But that nagging part of you, the one that said to stay awake, whispered in the back of your mind about the darkness that was waiting for you if you did try to rest.

“I can’t sleep,” you whispered suddenly, and it came out meeker than you wanted it to.

Levi snapped his attention away from his papers to look at you then, eyebrows knitting together for a moment before finally relaxing back into an unreadable expression. Even then, you swore that it wasn’t a trick of the light when you saw a little bit of understanding in his eyes. But then the flame of the candles flickered and it was gone again, the emotion you couldn’t quite pin down from Levi, the one you’d seen during that meeting when you’d first met.

Wordlessly, he handed you a stack of papers he’d clearly already finished.

“Proofread these for any errors,” he said. “And there’s a pot of tea in the kitchen. You’ll want to heat it up again. And bring me another cup.”

You brightened up and nodded eagerly as you stood up, grabbing your source of light again.

“On it!”

You took a few steps and then stopped, face getting hot with embarrassment as you remembered --

“You don’t know where you’re going,” Captain Levi stated. It wasn’t a question.

“Maybe I do,” you challenged.

“You’re going the wrong way.”

“I knew that.”

You should have been exhausted. You should have been on the verge of passing out, rocketing into a dreamless sleep for the night, out like a light. In many ways, you were completely worn out.

Your limbs ached and felt heavy from ODM training, and your eyes burned from being awake so long. You’d managed a few hours two nights ago, but the nightmares had been so realistic and so dark that you hadn’t been able to try and rest since then. Your insomnia headache, as you affectionately called it, was in full swing after exerting yourself all day.

And yet, as you collapsed onto your bed and closed your eyes and tried to just fall asleep and forget about it all...you couldn’t do that.

You couldn’t keep your eyes closed for more than a few minutes.

A frustrated groan tore through you as you curled up into your scratchy blankets, your stubbornness kicking in. Whether you wanted to or not, you were going to get some sleep tonight. Nightmares or no nightmares, it was getting ridiculous.

Your eyes stayed shut and you stayed unmoving, breathing evenly to try and coax yourself into some form of unconsciousness, but your mind still felt restless.

It’s no use, you thought bitterly, and then physically jolted in surprise when the words were said out loud.

Just not by you.

“It’s no use,” a familiar, achingly familiar, voice said.

Your eyes flew open and you frantically searched the room for her, but afraid to move a muscle from where you lay in bed.

And there she was, clear as day, so close you could have touched her.

“Saria.” You breathed out her name, hand twitching at your side, wanting to reach out and just touch her. She was right there. Just sitting at the edge of your bed by your feet, watching you with the most serene expression on her face. She had never looked serene when she was alive.

“It’s no use,” she repeated, cocking her head to the side as her wide eyes stared you down. “How could you possibly sleep knowing you killed me?”

Before you could even think to answer, you watched in horror as blood soaked through her dress, dripped from her hairline, dribbled from the corner of her mouth. She was getting more and more mangled as you stared, until finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m sorry!” you cried out, ripping the upper half of your body from the bed to try and get close enough to her, to try and save her somehow.

Your hand was outstretched to the foot of your bed, reaching out to nothing.

Another dream.

The tears came swiftly after the realization hit. Just a few wretched sobs that you were unable to control, which died down once you got your bearings and a better hold of reality set in.

“Only a nightmare,” you mumbled to yourself, throwing the blankets off of you. No chance in hell you were going to attempt to sleep after that.

You were surprised to see how dark it was outside. The sun had only just set when you’d gotten back to your room, but now the early morning chill had set in and there was nothing but silence to keep you company. So, you’d slept after all. It just had only felt like 5 minutes compared to the hours you’d allegedly been out.

You lit your candle and padded out of your room, shifting uncomfortably in your newly issued uniform that you hadn’t even pulled off before trying to sleep. Barefoot, you wandered the halls until you came to the dining area again, a surprising wave of relief washing over you when the sight of another flickering flame came into view.

Levi was there again, a cup of tea at the table next to him like last time, but this time he was reading a book instead of working through piles of undoubtedly boring paperwork.

And he’d heard you again, like he had the first time just a few days ago. This time, he didn’t make a snippy remark. He did, however, look up from his book, likely to make sure it was who he thought it was. His eyes flickered back to the pages before his mind seemed to catch up with the full sight of you, and he immediately looked back to you and set his book down for a moment as you made your way over, Levi registering that something was amiss. You saw him take note of your eyes, the same eyes you were now positive were red and puffy from your little outburst, and then he looked over your rumpled uniform and jittery hands.

“There’s tea in the kitchen,” he said simply, picking up his book again.

You were embarrassed at not realizing you probably looked a little wild until just then, but were grateful that Levi didn’t comment on it. Now that you knew where the kitchen was, you made your way there silently and reheated the kettle, finding a small container of sugar. You poured a little less than a tablespoon into two cups after pouring out some steaming tea, nervously making your way back to where Levi was sitting.

Why were you nervous?

“I brought you another cup,” you started, then berated yourself internally when you saw the cup already by him was still half full. “I hope you don’t mind that I put just a little dash of sugar in it. I hate the way tea tastes after you reheat it. You can taste the difference.”

At that, Levi’s eyes shot up and he didn’t even try to hide the astonished gaze.

“What?” you asked uncomfortably, sitting down in the same chair you’d sat in before.

“Nothing. I just...have never heard anyone else say that before.”

To your complete astonishment, a very rare smile pulled at Levi’s lips, but he was gazing down at the cup of tea you’d brought him and not at you. Briefly, you wondered how it would have felt if he had looked right at you when he smiled.

“I’m glad I’m in the presence of someone with actual taste,” you said with a grin, heart skipping a beat when Levi actually chuckled at that.

Then, as soon as it had all appeared, his smile and his laughter died away and he gazed up at you with an apprehensive gaze. Your heart sunk, your earlier thought - hope - of seeing him smile at you squashed.

“If you’re having problems sleeping, you should talk to Hange,” he told you, voice a little stern.

At that, you had to scoff.

“Real nice, coming from you of all people,” you grumbled. “You should practice what you preach. Everyone says you basically have forgotten how to sleep.”

“I have my reasons-” Levi started, but you cut him off instantly.

“So do I.”

Again, you began to tremble, a flash of your lost friend at your bedside suddenly coming to the front of your mind. You tried to shake it away, but it still felt so fresh. With a frustrated sigh, you grabbed your cup of tea and took a heavy sip, not caring about the way it burned.

Levi seemed just slightly gentler by the time you spared a glance his way. His book was closed, index finger holding his place in his book, and he pursed his lips as your eyes met.

“Need to talk about your reasons?” he asked; a clear indication this wouldn’t be a mutual thing. Nonetheless, he was allowing you safety to talk to him, something you hadn’t really expected.

Something else you hadn’t expected was how easily you just let it all slip out.

“I couldn’t save my friend,” you explained, gritting your teeth as the confession was said aloud. It was a bitter pill to swallow. “When I realized the MPs were on our tail, I told her to meet up with the guy who had hired us as their...protection, so to speak. That’s what we’d been planning on doing that day: meeting up with our new contract for the first time. I’m sure you’ve already heard that that’s the reason everyone is so intent on bagging me. She and I...we were both really good spies, basically. Sometimes vigilantes, to be honest. And I didn’t want both of us to get caught, so I told her to go ahead and find the guy who’d just hired us, see if he could help somehow. Turns out he had only hired us to kill us, after we’d gotten some of his guys killed from a previous job. They tortured her, and then they killed her. The MPs demanded for me to take them to the meeting site. We got there much, much too late. It was hard, seeing her like that. All because of the choice I made. And now I just...can’t stop seeing her.”

The disgust you’d been feeling for yourself crept back up, almost made you gag, as the words weighed down on you. Levi was watching you intently, his eyes conveying that peculiar emotion. This time, he didn’t try to shield it with his stoicism.

You shifted around awkwardly, not knowing if you wanted him to say something or not, and then you stiffened when Levi frowned and leaned back in his chair, scoffing a bit.

“What?” you asked him, arms hugging yourself.

“It just feels like I’m being fucked with somehow,” he admitted, his eyes back on the tea you’d brought him, and then flickering back to you. “That wasn’t your fault. You made the choice you thought was best. That’s all.”

Although the words should have been meaningless coming from someone who didn’t know you at all, or know the situation, it dawned on you that maybe Levi understood more than you realized. Him being a captain in the Scout Regiment alone was reason enough. How many people had he lost? Against your own wishes, you felt yourself soothed by his words.

“I’m sorry about whoever you’ve lost,” you whispered. “What was their name?”

Levi tensed at the question and you knew you wouldn’t really get an answer.

“Too many names to list,” he breathed out. You nodded.

“My friend’s name was Saria,” you said, forcing yourself to say the words. It was painful to even speak her name. You felt ashamed to do it, undeserving. “She’d be more qualified for this kind of thing. I’ll probably be hanged soon or something. I’m not a soldier.”

Levi gave a fleeting smile again, shaking his head.

“Trust me, you’ll learn. Just survive it. That’s all you can do.” His eyes darkened, then softened, as he said, “Survive it for her.”

As soon as he got the words out, you found yourself making that promise to yourself, and to her.

“I will.”

“You’re sure?”

Levi’s surprise and apprehension was evident in his question, his brow quirked up as he gazed at you from across the table. It was supper time, and you’d made it a habit to sit with him and the other higher-ups during meal times. At first, he’d barely acknowledged you. Now, on the third day, and with your little announcement, he was forced to engage with you.

“Yup. I’ve decided to join the Scouts.” You repeated the words again, tasting them on your tongue, and they didn’t taste so bitter. Just a couple of weeks ago, you would have scoffed at the idea of being crazy enough to choose the Scout Regiment.

From beside Levi, an amused chuckle rumbled from Erwin’s chest.

“Zachary’s not going to be very happy about this,” he mused, but he was clearly enjoying the prospect of telling him, gaze faraway as he daydreamed the scenario.

Levi didn’t say anything else, but he gave you a wary glance again before getting back to his cup of tea. You shrugged and continued to eat your meal, though admittedly, you were too antsy to really eat. You ended up handing over the last of your bread to Levi, who shot you an incredulous stare, and the last of your vegetables to Hange, who seemed pleased.

“Take it, I’m full,” you insisted, already hurrying away from the table so you couldn’t be around to hear of the protests.

It was true, you felt full and didn’t have an appetite. Maybe it had to do with the anxiety coursing through you, though. Because, for once in who knew how long, you actually felt sleepy. Your eyelids drooped as you made it to your no-longer-temporary room and finished your night routine of pajamas and splashing some water on your face. You crawled into your no-longer-temporary bed and sighed in relief, letting sleep take you.

When you felt the bed dip, you tensed up. For what felt like several minutes, you waited in silence, hoping to be called into a dreamless sleep, but you were suddenly all too aware of your bedroom, and the fact that you just didn’t feel alone.

“It’s no use.” Saria’s voice pierced through the air and made your eyes fly open. The same words she’d used before. She’d never liked repeating herself when she was alive. Dead Saria was kind of annoying.

You wanted to tell her so many things, wanted to beg for her to let you sleep, but your throat felt like there was a rock lodged in it. The lump couldn’t be swallowed down. You couldn’t even scream. You couldn’t even move. Your body felt heavy, like lead.

“It’s fine,” Saria sighed wistfully, a hand running over the material of your blanket. “You’ll probably be dead soon. The Scouts, huh? Wonder why you chose the Scouts.”

And then you finally found the will to move, and clenched your eyes shut as you sat up in bed forcefully. When you opened your eyes again, she was gone.

A shaky exhale left you and you clambered out of your bed, wanting to just get out of there and already knowing where you wanted to go and who you wanted to see. You lit your candle and made your way out, barefoot and only in your nightgown.

The sight of Levi’s flickering candle made you feel ten times better, and the sight of Levi himself made you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

When you saw that there was a second cup of tea right in front of your usual seat, you let yourself smile.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman oneshot #levi one shot #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi fanfiction #levi fic #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman #levi #aot fanfiction #aot oneshots #aot #snk fanfiction #snk

235 notes · View notes