#also the lines about come on give us one more spark / sing a song of fire / lest we fall into the dark is SO speirs coded | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hjnxx · 9 months ago

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› › mascara — the debut single.

HIJINXX’s percussion driven first digital single, the song encourages the listener to avoid unhealthy relationships and know their own worth, letting them showcase their confidence and true talents. dropping officially on streaming platforms june 14th, 2021, MASCARA centers around an electronic hip-hop and dance-pop trap beat that creates a dynamic, upbeat pop song.

a formidable hit that made waves for all the wrong reasons domestically, MASCARA had the opposite effect internationally. nevertheless, HIJINXX would get the chance to perform the song on mnet’s m countdown, sparking the discourse surrounding their name. the official music video for MASCARA received 2.6 million views within the first week, highlighting how HIJINXX are quickly making their own statement around the world no matter what.

› PRODUCING & ARRANGING CREDITS : hongjoong, eden

› WRITING CREDITS : hongjoong, eden, ahyeon

› MUSIC SHOW WINS : 0

› CHART PLACEMENTS : #87 on bbHOT100

› MUSIC VIDEO : 1M views in 2 days, 2.6M for the first week

› STAGE OUTFITS, FROM LEFT TO RIGHT : AHYEON, MICHA, YUINA, EUNJI !

› ERA NOTES

wooo hijinxx first single! debut into the industry with fire and passion, this is what we like to see!

except comma,

the public reception to the single being mostly in english was genuine surprise. it’s not unheard of having english lyrics in k-pop songs, but the entire song? as a debut single? for a new group trying to find their own footing? yeah korean netizens were not having it at all. on a forum asking what people thought about the song, the top liked negative comment read: they should all move to america since they want to sing songs with no korean lyrics. they shouldn’t even call themselves a ‘korean pop’ group.

many were quick to come to the girls’ defenses though, saying that the song was meant to reach a wider audience since the survival show didn’t do as well as hoped. ratings for the show had tanked following the accusations of rigging and favoritism, so it wasn’t a long shot for the group to debut with such a song to appeal to a wider audience.

now on to the girls! yuina became a quick fan favorite with her expressions and stage presence, surprising viewers with her strong dance skills. it was then revealed that she spent many hours practicing the choreography over and over, sometimes well into the morning, even falling asleep in the practice rooms out of sheer exhaustion. hearing this, coupled with some tidbits of her life that she had revealed on the survival show, warmed her up to the public very quickly. her short rap in the song would also gain a bit of praise, especially for her lack of vocal wavering despite giving one hundred percent during performance.

despite this, kq would receive a lot of criticism for debuting the girls with ‘simple choreo’, the general consensus being that ( save for yuina who was really busting her ass on stage every time ) the other three girls would ‘walk instead of dance’ into each position.

micha received a ton of attention, some good, most of it bad. the main sore spot was that, as the main vocalist, she was given the most lines, but netizens would go on to complain that the company was favoring her through an unfair line distribution. hate comments would be left underneath the videos uploaded for the performances. she’s lucky she’s pretty, one commenter would write, otherwise i would really hate to hear the sound of her voice. when she dances she looks like she’s being electrocuted and it’s not like she tries to be likable.

eunji would go semi-viral for blankly staring at the screen during group introductions, the nerves getting to her so bad she would default to a semi panicked look. screenshots of the moments would go viral to be used as a reaction meme despite most not knowing where the pictures originated from.

mascara would be promoted for a month and a half, long enough for public performances / more busking, few idol interactions, and dance challenges—especially with their senior group, ateez. the ‘mascara challenge’ with yuina, wooyoung, and san would especially go viral due to atinys flooding the comments with love and poking fun at the notable height difference between san and yuina.

mascara did not gain any wins, but it would go on to chart and peak at number 87 on the billboard hot 100, marking their first entry on to a chart.

soon after the music video for mascara dropped, hijinxx would release a four episode behind the scenes series of filming, practices, and more for each member titled to their respective suit. ( ex : micha’s episode would be titled ‘HIJINXX - ‘MASCARA’ BTS : DIAMOND SUIT’ )

even though there wasn’t much to say about ahyeon’s performance, she would gain more traction for her persona off stage. atinys and aces would bond over hongjoong and ahyeon’s friendship, the bits and pieces of the two featured in her mascara bts episode showcasing just how close they were. considering she’s the one who actively pursued their friendship, their moments were received fondly as the two truly seemed comfortable together. the recording process especially showcased this, featuring a now infamous moment of the two poking fun at each other in the studio. one atiny would post on twitter, ‘new drinking game : take a shot each time ahyeon says ‘joong-ah!’ every time he acts like a little shit LMAOOO 😭 i love them together <3’, the tweet amassing enough attention for even the ateez members themselves to pick up on the teasing.

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houseofdoodles · 9 months ago

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will we see more voice claim of your mw ocs?

Since you asked nicely. :) Here's everyone's voice claims I got for my OC's in one video!

Sorry I had to post one hefty video and not four separate ones! Tumblr can't let me do that.

Some more details about the voice claims under the read more! Because I love voice claim stuff and I am a rambling mess about it.

ISO is the only character I for sure have one voice claim for as of right now and that's Ashley Johnson. The most spot on comparison is definitely Lake from Infinity Train. Checks off all the right marks from the slight metallic sound in her voice to a lot of personality and characterization bits that I can see in ISO. Picked some extra juicy voice lines in this video that hit almost too hard with how relevant they are to their character. :') Wanted to pick some lines from Pike and Terra too since both of them have lines that I could see ISO saying as well!

I already posted Chopper's voice claim video and a little explanation earlier, but I recently updated it to include one more voice I had in mind! Essentially, Jesse Harnell is perfect for an overall smooth and humorous tone while Lance Henrikson is someone I can see for Chopper if I want him to be more intimidating.

Last one I cannot for the life of me find the name of the voice actor since it's from old video game material (cast is listed, but they don't say who voices who), but I really wanted to include it since this character and his overall theme and voice were someone I looked to for inspiration for Chopper!

Spark L was both tricky and fun for me! Being a pop star meant I also needed to find someone with a singing voice, so her reel is a smidge longer than the other ones here. :')

Nikki Simmons was the first actress that came to mind since her role in NSR is a really nice comparison to both Spark L's bubbly personality and singing voice. Buuuut. Part of me also says this kind of voice is both too on the nose and has too much energy. I wanted roles that sounded more natural in tone so I snagged some voice lines from Brenda Song and Kody Kavitha!

I'm started to lean more and more towards Brenda Song for Spark L since a lot of her sassy and enthusiastic energy are perfect for Spark L! Also I don't have any lines here, but an extra bonus to Brenda Song is her role as London Tipton because a lot of her lines are way too fitting for this girl. :]

Kody Kavitha is another I look to because her fast and peppy performance is also perfect for Spark L's personality!

Claw Jaw's voice situation is REALLY similar to Spark L's. All three voices I picked for him are all tones and deliveries I can picture for him!

Patrick Seitz was a voice claim I had in mind for the longest time when it came to CJ since he's got a really good guttural voice in a lot of his roles. I could have picked many others that he's done, but I went with Bluddflagg since his tone and use of that fun, pirate vocab are nice things to look to for CJ! Like Spark L's first voice though, I was afraid this was too much energy so I looked to two other roles to be on the safe side.

I'm debating whether or not I want to give Claw Jaw an accent, so in case he doesn't (or at least if it isn't as heavy), Clancy Brown is a nice voice to turn to! He's still got the perfect energy and deliveries for CJ when it comes to both a goofy character but also a tough sounding voice.

Grog is a character I really looked at when getting CJ's energy pinpointed, so I had to include Travis Willingham. Like Clancy Brown, a combo of silliness and seriousness is perfect for the guy!

#Voice Claim #ISO #Chopper #Spark L #Claw Jaw #My OC's #Thanks for asking this! Been wanting to post these for some time and this was a nice reminder to do that :')#So sorry for the hefty amount of text explaining this. This is something I'm kinda passionate about gbuirebgru #I was hoping to make animatics based off of some of these lines.#I might still do that at least with my favorites if I find the energy and time to do it haha #// Long Post

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triplexdoublex · 9 months ago

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technically yes nobody can save you but I agree that hearing your fav saying that they’ve been through the same stuff that u have is very comforting especially when dealing with mental illness cause it can be a very isolating experience. But it is your choice and decision to get better, your fav person can show u that they also went to therapy and how it has helped them and that can influence you to go and try it out but that’s still up to u. With Kells I think he’s struggling a lot even if he tries not to show it to not worry us that much, and from what I’ve seen I don’t think he feels deserving of our love and devotion to him or that his mind wants to believe that we will turn on him and he’ll end up alone as he was most of his life. The line “who am I when the music stops” imo kind of shows that he’s scared all the love and support will leave when he’s not singing no more, and that maybe everyone who hated will come out in support of him only when he’s dead, cause that’s what’s happened to a lot of artists who have passed (like he mentioned in his line “thinkin maybe the hate’ll finally go away if I’m not alive”). He definitely knows we love him through the support we give him on music and project but I think he’s scared to even through music really be honest with us cause he’ll be scrutinised for it. He’s got so many eyes on him now and I think he’s scared to lose the fame and publicity he so badly wanted for so long. I believe with “don’t let me go” he even said that it was a song he usually wouldn’t put out if he had more time to sit on it or something. and I think that’s why he’s also holding onto Megan. She helped him get the fame he worked so hard for years to get, he finally got the recognition that he so badly fought for and I think if he loses her he's afraid he’ll also lose that part of fame and the awards and such, not saying he didn’t get awards before Megan but she definitely helped him get to another level of fame and publicity. And I think if he loses Megan he’ll be made fun of in the media. At the start everyone was so out of their minds on how a guy like him could get the world loved hottie Megan Fox and if it comes out saying that they aren’t together anymore, even tho all the people who saw the relationship as toxic or weird will be happy, he’ll still be laughed at for managing to lose the “most beautiful women”. Like they made fun of him after the em disses, he’ll also be made fun of if he loses Megan.

TW// Suicide ideation

Yes technically you’re saving yourself by making the decisions needed to better your mental health but sometimes you need that spark of hope to get you started and kells is that spark for a lot of people. I’ve had many sparks along my mental health journey one of them actually being song lyrics from the song “Self Conclusion” by The Spill Canvas. I was driving home from work thinking about ending it all, I already knew how I was gonna do it — I had recently had my wisdom teeth removed and this was back when they would give you prescription pain meds for literally anything (which is how how the opioid crisis started) They gave me Percocet even though I said that I didn’t want them because I was afraid of getting addicted (addiction runs in my family) He insisted I would NEED them. But I didn’t they sat in my cabinet full and unused, and I was planning to take the bottle. I had just pulled into my driveway when the song started playing , a song I’d heard a million times before but the lyrics “we all flirt with the tiniest notion of self conclusion in one simplified motion, the trick is your never supposed to act on it, no matter how unbearable this misery gets” hit different in that moment and felt like a sign to me to stay and get help. I sat in the car and sobbed for what felt like fovever , then went inside and got rid of the pills. And did start therapy shortly after. Yearsss later when I met the lead singer I thanked him for SAVING me! Of course I was the one who decided not to go through with it and to start going to therapy , but what if I never heard that song at the exact moment I needed it , would I even be here having this conversation… there’s a good chance I wouldn’t. So yes I believe I was saved by their music!

Kells definitely gets a lot underserved hate , he has shared many times that he worries about not being appreciated until his dead. Another lyric that comes to mind is “everybody hates, but can anybody love me, guess they’ll wait until my face is on the mural” i think he finally did get a little taste of being taken more seriously when Tickets to my downfall and Mainstream sellout both went number one and her acquired a bunch of new fans . But it must be so hard to know that pretty much everyone outside of the fanbase hates him.

I don’t believe Megan helped kells to rise to fame , if anything he boosted her non existent acting career ( when was the last time you heard about Megan Fox before they got together … maybe 2007ish ) Kells gained more fame for revitalizing the pop-punk scene, but I do agree that he will be dragged for ‘loosing Megan’ I’ve already seen evidence of it in social media comments

#machine gun kelly #mgk #colson baker #megan fox #tw// suicide

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mask131 · 2 years ago

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How many Muses?

Given my Greek mythology posts have been sparking some interest lately, I thought: why not bring more to my fellow Greek mythology fans? And so today, what I want to talk about is, the Muses.

A lot of people only know them through the Disney movie “Hercules” - and... of course, you know how faithful to Greek mythology this movie is *cough cough* irony *cough cough*. They did get some things quite right - such as putting the Muses as narrator of the story, that’s a nice and intelligent move. And then... there’s the rest. But let’s put all that aside and take a look at who were truly the Muses.

Note: Muse is the modern, Latinized spelling and saying of the goddesses’ name. In original Ancient Greek, it is “Mousai” (Mousa in singular) (in Latin, “Musa, Musae”).

I) Homeric vs Hesiodic ; and the nine Classical Muses

As usual, what one needs to first do, when looking at a Greek deity, is compare the Homeric and Hesiodic traditions.

Homer, in his Iliad and Odyssey, describes the Muses as the daughters of Zeus. He usually talks of them in plural, and even at one point says there are nine Muses in total - but in other passages of his epic he refers to the Muse, in singular, and treats her as a singular goddess (we’ll come back to this afterward). The Muses are described as singers and music-providers for Olympus, other gods, and half-gods of note. For example they are known to be the one singing alongside Apollo’s music during the divine feasts on Olympos, and when Achilles dies, they are the ones who sing at his funeral. This insistance on the Muses being singing-goddesses is notably carried on by an anecdote Homer tells in The Iliad: it is said that a Thracian man named Thamyris pretended that he was a better singer than the Muses, and could beat them at a singing contest with ease. The Muses heard of his boasting, and angry with him, threw a violent curse at him, removing his beautiful voice AND making him unable to remember any song (or rather turning him into a “singer without memory”). Again, this is an example of the topic of “hubris punished” in Greek mythology: the gods cannot reach the same levels as the gods, as if they pretend they are better than them, they’ll lose everything. If this man had just been happy with his voice and said he was the better singer of all humankind, he wouldn’t have attracted the fury of the Muses - but he had to boast he was better than the “official” singers of the gods...

But beyond singing, Homer also heavily points out that the goddesses are deities of poetry. In the Iliad and the Odyssey, it is made very clear that the bards of Ancient Greece - the aoidoi (insulgar aoidos) - are considered the main servants of the Muse. To be a talented poet, or a talented bard, or even a gifted singer, you must receive the favors and blessing of the Muse, because it is her that offers as much poetic/singing talent as inspiration, to create songs, poems and stories. I keep saying “Muse”, singular, because in the texts of Homer, while the Muses are mostly referred to in plural as characters of the stories (at the feast of the gods, at Achilles’ funeral), whenever they are invoked as the patron of the aoidos, or when Homer himself invokes them, the singular “Muse” is used. Does Homer refer to one specific Muse among the nine, or does he unites and gather all nine goddesses into one singular deity? It is unclear. But what stays is Homer’s famous, iconic lines - his call to the Muse before beginning each of his epic, his plea for her to give him the story he needs to tell, and his thanks for her revealing to him all the secrets of the gods. Because, in these early times of Ancient Greece, the great epics and the great poems were seen as being “offered” by the gods to humanity. Poetic inspiration and poetic talent came from the gods - from the Muses to be exact - and as a result, all those great stories sung by the bards, all the myths and legends of the poets, were offered by the all-knowing Muses to humankind. Without the Muse, a poet, writer, storyteller loses as much his voice as his memory (as the story of Thamyris proves). And this is why Homer invokes the Muse and her blessing before beginning each of his epics.

(And as with providing music for the gods, Apollo also co-worked alongside the Muses when it came to teach humans how to sing and poets which story they should tell)

Now, if we go by the side of Hesiod, we do not have a contradiction (unlike with other deities). Hesiod confirms that all singers, all musicians, all poets own their talents, inspiration and gifts to the Muses and Apollo - without them, there wouldn’t be any form of art on earth. The job of the “servants of the goddesses” is to sing the great deeds of the most valorous and heroic men, and the stories and adventures of the immortal gods - and in doing so, they make people forget their troubles and sorrows... This is the nature of the service of the Muses, according to Hesiod, distract and entertain humanity not in a goal of information, but to ease the hard and difficult life of mortals. The same way Homer called upon the Muse before beginning each of his poem, and regularly asked her to “give” him the stories he was about to sing, Hesiod claims in his Theogony that all he is about to reveal was actually taught to him by the Muses, who appeared to him one day as he was on Mount Helicon. They selected Hesiod, a mere shepherd, a base man part of the lower class of Ancient Greece, and turned him into a glorious poet, into the honored and blessed servant of the gods supposed to tell their deeds for all of eternity. Though, Hesiod slides a very interesting remark in his poem... He mentions that when the Muses appeared to him, they specified that they know many true things that they tell humans... as much as they tell them false things, but worded with such talent and cunning that they appear as they are true. This mention is highly interesting: in the Homeric tradition, the Muses are all-knowledgeable because they are goddesses, and they assisted to most of the events they tell, so there is no doubt that what the goddesses bring to aoidoi are true. However, in Hesiod there is more ambiguity, as the Muses admit they are, just like poets, as much carriers of truth as bringers of lies that are so convincing they appear to be true. [There could be a whole debate on how Ancient Greeks perceived poetry, myths, and all that, but let’s keep things simple].

What Hesiod brings to the table is a lot of additional information that Homer does not give. For example he precises that, beyond Olympos (where they dwell by the side of Zeus, delighting their father with all sorts of stories of the present, the past and the future), they also dwell on the mountain Helikon (the place where Hesiod met them). On this mount, they can be seen dancing, and taking baths in springs, and at night, “veiled with mist”, they sing and praise all of the gods, from Zeus, Hera, Athena and Apollo to Gaia, Okeanos, Selene, Helios, - and many, many more. Hesiod more interestingly specifies the identity and ligneage of the Muses: he explains that they were born of Zeus and of the goddess Mnemosyne, the personification of Memory. It is said that Zeus laid down with Mnemosyne for nine consecutive nights, and that one year afterward the Muses were born, nine daughters “of one mind”, who immediately started singing with their sweet and lovely voices, and quickly went to their father Zeus, at the top of Olympos, where they still dwell to this day. Hesiod also gives each of the nine Muses an individual name: Clio, Euterpe, Thalia, Melpomene, Terpsychore, Erato, Polymnia, Ourania and Calliope.

What is quite interesting is that, in Classical Greece, a consensus and appreciation grew, in literature, poetry, philosophy and culture, that each of the nine Muses represented a different form of art - for each goddess was a specific domain, which would explain why Homer only called upon one specific Muse to sing his poems, since epic poetry would be the domain of one given Muse. This is the list and classification that is the most well-known and widespread today. But, it is present neither in Homer nor in Hesiod. In Homer the goddesses are an unnamed group, and while Hesiod gives them personal identities, he only identifies one division: between Calliope and his sisters. Indeed, Hesiod claims that Calliope is the greatest of the Muse and the leader of the nine, because her domain is to give inspiration and talent to the princes (nobility, royalty, top of the hierarchy). A bit like fairy godmothers, the Muses can take a fancy to a lovely princely baby, and upon his birth place some “sweet dew” upon his tongue, so that his words would be gracious, his judgements always true, his speech sure and his mind wise. And it is watching over those Muse-gifted princes that is Calliope’s job.

Now, I won’t go into great details into this matter more, but here is the “classical” list everybody knows today and that became with time the “traditional” and “by default” categorization of the Muses. Calliope is the Muse of epic poetry (the one that Hesiod and Homer sings, so when Homer calls upon the Muse, he calls upon Calliope). Thalia is the muse of another form of poetry, pastoral poetry, as well as the muse of the genre of the comedy (in theater, because theater is a form of poetry for the Ancient Greeks). She is opposed by Melpomene, who is the Muse of tragedy. Erato is the muse of love poems and lyric poetry as a whole, where Polymnia is the Muse of hymns, sacred poetry and religious songs. Euterpe is the Muse of music (especially flute music), while Terpsichore oversees dancing. And then come two Muses that can surprise someone today because these are thought to be science, not arts, but in Ancient Greece these domains were considered forms of art: Clio, the Muse of historians, and Ourania, the Muse of astronomers.

II) Not nine? The alternate Muses

A text is often brought up when one starts digging into the Muses. A text by Diodorus Siculus: his “Library of History”, written in the 1st century BC (so a VEEERRRYYY long time after Homer and Hesiod). As the title of the text says, it is the work of a historian trying to trace back the origins of the myths, and Diodorus take an interest in the Muses because of their association with Dionysos (this is a novelty of the late centuries of Ancient Greece - apparently the Muses had gained a new connection to the god Dionysos, when before they were just associated with Zeus and Apollo, and Diodorus even says they were paired with satyrs out of all creatures, the satyrs providing the music by instruments while the Muses sang and dance.

Diodorus presents the tradition we best know today: the Muses are nine, and the daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne. But he also lists several alternative presents in the work of other poets, and that he believes never took off because of how prevalent and dominant Hesiod and Homer’s work were on the myth of the Muses. He notably says that some poets give the Muses a different set of parents: they become more “primordial” deities by becoming the daughters of Gaia, the Earth personified, and Ouranos, the Sky personified - which would make them sisters of the Titans. He also adds that before Hesiod and Homer made the number nine popular for the Muses, there were only three of them. Other details he mentions that were present in his time but not in Hesiod or Homer’s texts are that 1) The Muses apparently discovered letters, and how to arrange them to form words, creating the first poem by doing so. 2) The Muses are eternal virgins - because, as Diodorus suggests, it furthers the allegory of a “pure and uncontaminated education” to reach the peeks of poetry. Though again, in Homer and Hesiod no mention of virginity, discovering letters or hanging out with satyrs. In fact it is quite bizarre to have virgin goddesses partying with satyrs... But by the 1st century BC things had grown very bizarre in Greek mythology. Even weirder of course is the fact that in older texts and legends, Muses were clearly not virgins as Calliope for example was renowned as the mother of Orpheus... It seems the whole “virgin” thing was a very late addition to the myth - as Diodorus says, it seems to mostly exist as an allegory for the “purity of the art” or whatever.

What is very interesting here is the mention that “Before they were nine, they were three...”. It is a topic that has been getting some interests today: the “original trinity” of Muses. At this point things however get a bit complicated and broken down... For example Pausanias, in the second century AD (so long after Diodorus himself), in his “Description of Greece”, claims that the Aloades, Ephialtes and Otos, were the first to honor and sacrifice to the Muses, on the Mount Helikon, and that when they started the cult of the Muses, there were three of these goddesses: Melete, the personification of practice, Mneme, personification of memory, and Aoede, personification of songs. Pausanias however claims that afterward, the original three Muses were changed into the nine we know today. He also mentions an obscure poet of the 6th century BC, Mimnermos, who claimed there were two sets of Muses: an “older” group, born of Ouranos, and a “younger” group daughters of Zeus (and we know by other sources that Mimnermos, like other poets such as Alcman, poets of the 6th or 7th BC century, was one of those poets that attributed the birth of the Muses to Gaia and Ouranos... So from these informations, it seems the Muses were originally three goddesses born of Ouranos and Gaia, elderly deities representing the three parts of art (practicing, memorizing and then singing/performing), but that with time they were “de-volved” into daughters of Zeus, and nine personifications of different types of art.

It is a quite simple and interesting concept... if it wasn’t for other little tidbits that complicate the matter further. For example there are fragments and information about another obscure poet of the 7th or even 8th century BC, from Corinth, who also listed the Muses as three... but as the daughters of Apollo, with different names from the ones listed above, and who were co-worshipped alongside their father at the Delphi sanctuary (you know, Delphoi, where Apollo had his main oracle). The Apollo symbolism seems reinforced by the fact that, according to some sources, these three Muses were named after the three chords of the lyre, the sacred instrument of Apollo: Nete, Mese and Hypate. This was not however their only set of names: the obscure poet I talked above rather gave them the names Cephisso, Apollonis and Borysthenis. Overall it makes sense that in some areas they would be seen as the daughters of Apollo, given how strongly they are associated with him, sharing most of their domains and activities with the god: in fact, one of Apollo’s epithet was “Muse-Leader”, Apollo Mousegetes.

So... it seems yes there might have been originally three Muses - but the idea of these Muses as sisters of the Titans and a primordial trinity of art goddesses was not the only one prevalent in Greece. In Apollo dominated area, they were his daughters and personifications of the music of the lyre.

It is quite poetic however that we still keep the importance of the number three by having still three different sets of Ancient Greek Muses today - the daughters of Zeus, the daughters of Ouranos and the daughters of Apollo. (I know there is a fourth set about four different Muses - but given it was written by Cicero and is part of Roman literature I will gently push them aside, because we focus on Greek things here).

EDIT: I forgot to mention the Homeric Hymns! I didn’t want to put them alongside Homer’s “certified” work like the Iliad of the Odyssey, since too many people make the mistake the Homeric Hymns are authored by Homer “for sure”... Anyway, to add some more info, in the Homeric Hymn to Artemis, it is mentioned that the Muses dance with the Charites at the house of Apollo, at Delphi, and that sometimes Artemis joins to “order” and “lead” the dance. The Homeric Hymn to Apollo however rather presents them, in their “usual” setting, as singing hymns in the “house of Zeus” at the top of mount Olympos (though their song isn’t just about the glory and gifts of the immortals, it also apparently involves describing the suffering, weakness, helplessness and misery of humankind...). Finally, in the Homeric Hymn to Hermes Apollo describes himself not as a master or leader interestingly, but as a “follower” of the Muses of Olympus.

#greek mythology #greek goddesses #greek goddess #muses #mousai

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thenwethrowitonthefire · 5 months ago

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hello. I don't have any much of ask this time, mainly wanting to know which spark song you've been hyper in it(if you comfortable to say of course) and rant

I haven't listened to any songs lately since depression has tighten it grips on me causing me get overwhelmed/over-sensitive to voices but there is this verse keep repeating in my head from change by sparks for unknown reasons (consider I'm not good at memorizing lyrics so I only know this part of song)

Change; every dog is gonna have his day // Change; every loser's gonna have his way// Change; I don't care what other people say

i think you had said one or two things about this song to me before but I never opened the discussion cause I feel we will talk ENDLESSLY about it. each sentence in this song carries lot meanings, the full song has it deep heavy meaning while it looks clear as well -very spark type of thing- (like ocean I suppose? at least to me. with clear surface but deepness) and the feelings that arise when I focus on each lines, it goes into my heart before sinks in my soul (I also want to cry with - could be because I'm depressed)

I think is one of those songs I love from sparks that get me go numb on the kitchen floor like the angst on my pants if I let it posses me.

the previous answer still has me! still thinking about and trying to gather my thoughts over it, your overlook on full album by pointing the main concept of each song had me to listen to full album with closer look this time (+ the additional reblog from that account made some good points too (thank you! if you reading this :))

Hello again! ^^ So nice to see you in my ask box once more :)

I'm sorry to hear depression is being really tough on you at the moment, I hope things will be a bit better again soon ⁠♡ Change is a good song to hold your hand through dark days, the part of the lyrics you've highlighted in your message say it all. I really like what you said about the song and so I'll just give you a knowing smile because I think we understand each other perfectly well :)

I'm glad you enjoyed the previous answer and that you're still thinking about it, I love them so much for having made an album like that in these times :) (Hey @parts-of-me-unravelling thanks again for your addition about crying in one's latte ☺️)

I'm always comfortable talking about any song that I've been fixated on but I've honestly not listened to a lot of music recently (I've also been down in the dumps a bit and crave silence a lot). Sparks is always there though in other ways even when I'm not listening to music: I recently got a poster that I feared I'd missed out on. It made me so happy! It's good memories and a truly great photo. I also bring Sparks up in random conversations a lot, yesterday a friend was talking to me about pandemic isolation times and how people would only dress up the upper half of their bodies for zoom calls. ...so I was thinking of when Sparks made a video in which Russell stood up to show off his polka dot shorts, to which Ron said he wasn't going to stand up because he wasn't wearing shorts and it was supposed to be a pg rated video 😂 (I appreciate these guys so much.) It's in one of their 2020 videos on Instagram, all of which are very worth watching btw. (During self-isolation Russell treated us to singing lessons and workout sessions, Ron showed off his hand sanitizer collection and "The Ronald D. Mael Museum of stones and shells" (if I remember the name correctly), we got A Day In The Life Of Russell, Russell showing off his fridge magnet collection, and weekly lyric reads from Ron, as well as a couple of live recordings of songs from home. Honestly they were sweet as hell for doing all of that, I treasure all of these videos immensely. ... They might be good to watch actually if you need a mood boost :))

But here's something I've been hoping to tell you as there's something exciting coming up for the Sparks fandom: Sparkstember. It's a full month of celebrating Sparks and all their different albums and projects, and it takes place in September. The prompts list hasn't been posted yet but I'm going to assume it's not too dissimilar from last year. People can engage with the prompt/album of the day in any way they like so it's not only about art, though a lot of people make art for every single day of the month, and it's just really fun :) (Also a bit insanity inducing haha, I've now made art for every single day of it for the last 2 years while also trying to keep up with everything my friends have made. I very much intend to do it again this year.) People partake on any social media platform they like, though I personally especially enjoy it on Instagram. Sparks see and share a lot of the stuff that we put out there, so it's a really nice way of letting them know what they mean to us :) There's always too much about them that I can't put into words, also there's just too much to say, so having a whole month and going album by album is really good for that. (I mean, you've seen how I can write a whole essay about just one song. And they've got so many songs, albums, tours, photos, interviews, music videos, etc etc.) So I've been preparing for that these last weeks, and I'll keep the details about it to myself because my answer is getting so long already 😅 (Plus, I'll be going on about every album for the whole of next month anyway.) What I will share though is this tumblr post I made about these lyrics from the song Let's Make Love. You may have already seen that post float by, but it says everything about my motivation for Sparkstember and how much I love Sparks. (Gratuitous tag rant included on the post 🙃)

...sorry to go all "I love Sparks" on you today, without really talking about a song (I truly could write a whole book about them and their work though, plus there isn't really a separation between them as people and their art, it all exists as one massive universe but it's also all one and the same thing). Though the Sparks fan experience is basically Sparks fans constantly telling each other how much they love Sparks anyway so, well, there you go. The Sparks fan experience 👍🏻

The world could use more joy at the moment, or at least I know I could use it and could use things to make me want to keep going, so have this fun homemade music video from 2020 as my parting gift. Just because both the song and the video never fail to make me smile :)

youtube

#hope you enjoyed my ramble that possibly lacked direction 😅 ask me about the song ride 'em cowboy or rosebud sometime though if you like #they're some of my (many) forever big faves. I've not listened to them especially much recently and I already had so much to say #so those are saved for later :')#i hope you feel a little better soon 💕#thanks again (as always!) for the ask :)#ask #anon #sparks #Sparks ask

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dustedmagazine · 2 years ago

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Jackson Reid Briggs — Out of Line (Legless)

Out Of Line by Jackson Reid Briggs

The Saints’ Chris Bailey might have left us last year, but his spirit is alive and kicking on Out of Line, the second solo EP by fellow Brisbane native Jackson Reid Briggs. You can feel it in Briggs’ shout-it-all-down vocals, the steady chugging and thumping of his band’s rhythms, and the horn section-like surges of guitar that come flooding forward when he steps away from the mic.

Briggs, like Bailey, makes dejected and soulful garage punk that gives it everything it’s got, every step of the way, even when it’s mired by self-doubt. “Falling short on the numbers again/I know it doesn’t matter, but what do I know?,” he howls on the title track as the band chugs fixedly along in a mode reminiscent of fellow Saints disciples Eddy Current Suppression Ring. With a little help from a flanger around the two-minute mark, longtime collaborator Ryan Potter’s cutting rhythm guitar starts to clear space for Briggs to do his thing. As room opens up, Briggs’ guitar lashes out with increasing violence, his roiling tone colliding with cymbal punches like a live wire coming loose in a storm, smacking the pavement below and spraying sparks.

This is music that gives you the rush you need to get to where you’re going, or to get you away from where you came, a dynamic at play in the EP’s lyrics. “Chain me up and lock me down/tell everyone in the city I can’t leave,” Briggs demands on opener “Gone,” presumably about Melbourne, the city he’s called home for the better part of a decade since being “exiled” (as the bio sheet puts it) from Brisbane. But according to Briggs, the song is mostly about getting older. “You start to lose a lot of things as you grow older and sometimes you need to push a little harder to get them back on track,” he said in an email. Fittingly, when the guitars lock together coming into the chorus on “Gone,” it feels like the smooth shift of a bike’s chain to a higher gear, the accumulation of the power and momentum necessary to overtake whoever, or whatever, is in front of you.

Relentlessly propulsive rock is what Briggs has built his name on over the past eight or so years with backing band The Heaters. But on “Expectations,” the EP’s smeared-with-gloom second track, Briggs shows us a new side of himself, one that’s equally capable of bringing a sense of urgency to a more acoustic-based sound. Its melody unfurls more patiently than anything Heaters fans would expect, with a slippery, sitar-ish guitar line eking its way forward alongside bassist Cameron Hawes’ (of Martyr Privates and Slug Guts) dusty amble. Briggs’ voice also sounds different here, resembling Kitchen’s Floor’s Matt Kennedy in its vowel-stretching dreariness. “If you’ve ever got a problem with my lack of expectations/there’s a knife strapped to the back of the bedroom door,” he sings menacingly in the chorus as the song slithers along, leaving you more than a little concerned for his well-being.

What’s also concerning is that this EP remains a digital-only release — and adorned, on Briggs’ Bandcamp page, by artist Shannon Rush’s gorgeous Night People-esque cover art to boot. Somebody put these songs on a seven-inch, please!

Chris Liberato

#jackson reid briggs #out of line #legless #chris liberato #albumreview #dusted magazine #rock #punk #garage #brisbane #australia #saints

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magnetothemagnificent · 2 years ago

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Do you have any happy/uplifting/"we will get through this" type of jewish songs? Take your time answering or if you don't have any on hand i understand, have a nice day/night <3

One of my favourites is of course "V'Hi Sh'Amda" ("And She who stood") from the Pesach Haggadah. It comes in many tunes, some more somber than others, some more upbeat, but it's such a comforting song about our resilience as a people:

וְהִיא שֶׁעָמְדָה לַאֲבוֹתֵינוּ וְלָנוּ. שֶׁלֹּא אֶחָד בִּלְבָד עָמַד עָלֵינוּ לְכַלּוֹתֵנוּ, אֶלָּא שֶׁבְּכָל דּוֹר וָדוֹר עוֹמְדִים עָלֵינוּ לְכַלוֹתֵנוּ, וְהַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא מַצִּילֵנוּ מִיָּדָם.

"And She is the One who stood for our fathers and for us. For it wasn't one alone that stood over us to exterminate us, rather in every generation and generation they stand over us to exterminate us, and the Holy One Blessed Be He saves us from their hand."

There's also an incredible feminist reading to this hymn, notice the pronoun change in it?

Another song is "We are a Miracle" by Yaakov Shwekey. I hate Yaakov Shwekey, he is not someone I support, but damn does "We are a Miracle" hit me in the feels every time. Maybe it's because the song came out when I was in a rough time. Anyway. The song is good. The creator isn't. Alas.

Then there's "Kol HaOlam Kulo" ("The whole entire world"), originally written by Rabbi Nachman of Breslov. The lyrics are simple, but the tune......when sung in a group and you just constantly repeat the last line.......it's spiritual.

"כל העולם כלו גשר צר מאד והעקר לא לפחד כלל"

"The whole entire world, is a very narrow bridge, and the main thing is to have no fear at all."

Then there's "Am Yisrael Chai" ("The people of Israel are alive"). Again, simple lyrics, but oh so powerful when sung together. The most famous tune is the one by Shlomo Carlbach.

עַם יִשְׂרָאֵל חַי עוֹד אָבִינוּ חַי

"The people of Israel are alive, our father yet lives"

Then there's "Banu Choshech L'Garesh" ("We've come to chase the dark away"), by Sara Levi-Tanai. It's a comforting song about unity being able to overcome evil, and of course with Chanukah being in Wintertime, is also about overcoming the long nights haha. And my name is in it (as an adjective)! I'll bold it in the Hebrew. Unfortunately, I can't find any recordings with the full lyrics, only the first stanza :/

בָּאנוּ חֹשֶׁךְ לְגָרֵשׁ,‏ בְּיָדֵינוּ אוֹר וַאֵשׁ.‏ כֹּל אֶחָד הוּא אוֹר קָטָן,‏ וְכֻלָּנוּ אוֹר אֵיתָן.

סוּרָה חֹשֶׁךְ, הָלְאָה שְׁחוֹר!‏ סוּרָה מִפְּנֵי הָאוֹר!‏

צִיל-צִיל-צִיל בַּפַּעֲמוֹנִים, מִי אֲנַחְנוּ? – סְבִיבוֹנִים. לָנוּ רֶגֶל אַחַת, אִם נִפֹּל – גַּם לֹא נִפְחַד.

סוּרָה חֹשֶׁךְ, הָלְאָה שְׁחוֹר!‏ סוּרָה מִפְּנֵי הָאוֹר!‏

אָנוּ שׁוֹבָבִים גְּדוֹלִים, עַלִּיזִים וְהוֹלְלִים – אַךְ נֵדַע יָפֶה מְאוֹד לְסַפֵּר, לָשִׁיר, לִרְקֹד.

סוּרָה חֹשֶׁךְ, הָלְאָה שְׁחוֹר!‏ סוּרָה מִפְּנֵי הָאוֹר!‏

"We come to chase the dark away. In our hands are light and fire. Each individual light is small, But together the light is mighty.

Flee, darkness and night! Flee, before the light!

Tzil-tzil-tzil in the bells, who are we? – spinning dreidels. We have one leg, if we fall – we still won’t fear.

Flee, darkness and night! Flee, before the light!

We’re big mischievous kids, merry and praise-giving – but we’ll know very nicely to retell, to sing, to dance.

Flee, darkness and night! Flee, before the light!"

I really like the line "Each individual light is small, But together the light is mighty", emphasizing how we may be a small little spark alone, but together we make something greater.

Then there's "HaMalach HaGoel Oti" ("The angel that redeems me"), which is originally from Parshat Bereishit 48:16. It's often sung as a lullaby by Jewish parents, and it's a song that's helped me through get through some dark times. It's a song of strength and protection. Sometimes when I'm in a really depressive and lonely state, lying awake at night, I'll sing it to myself.

הַמַּלְאָךְ֩ הַגֹּאֵ֨ל אֹתִ֜י מִכׇּל־רָ֗ע יְבָרֵךְ֮ אֶת־הַנְּעָרִים�� וְיִקָּרֵ֤א בָהֶם֙ שְׁמִ֔י וְשֵׁ֥ם אֲבֹתַ֖י אַבְרָהָ֣ם וְיִצְחָ֑ק וְיִדְגּ֥וּ לָרֹ֖ב בְּקֶ֥רֶב הָאָֽרֶץ׃

"The angel that redeems me from all harm, he shall bless the children, and call in them my name, and the name of my fathers, Avraham and Yitzchak, and may they become a great many multitudes over the face of the earth."

And of course, "When You Believe" from the film "The Prince of Egypt", written and composed by Stephen Schwartz. I prefer the original version from the film, not the one performed for the end-credits by Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston. I think the song has a lot more emotional depth in the actual scene, especially with the addition of the children's chorus singing words from Shirat HaYam. But yeah it's an incredibly moving and inspiring song. Is it a "Jewish song"? Yes. It was written by a Jew, in a movie made by a Jew, telling a Jewish story.

There's a lot more but those are the first few that came to mind :)

#jumblr #judaism #jewish music #am yisrael chai

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erimeows · 3 years ago

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Sari wants to go to a concert of a world famous pop star in Detroit, Optimus gets strung along and the singer starts flirting with him with ten times his confidence, after Sari got her autograph. What would our precious Oppi do about all the attention (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧?

Love your work btw, I need to get into the habit of reposting things lol I always forget :(

Hey! Thanks so much, I really appreciate it. Headcanons below the cut <3

They’re at this concert that he doesn’t really want to be at, just him and Sari. It’d loud, crowded, and too many people have come up to him asking for his autograph and pictures.

He politely obliges, but is also incredibly anxious; anxious about protecting Sari in the midst of this mess of adults who could easily trample her, about being a literal giant who is probably blocking the view, anxious about the fact that Isaac was kind enough to pay for them to go and he had no way of paying him back.

Bumblebee and Bulkhead are cuddling in a seat somewhere in the crowd, and Ratchet and Prowl are back at the base because they didn’t want to come.

Optimus is in the very front with Sari on his shoulders, spark slamming in its chamber as the opening act ends. The music is reverberating through the huge outside area as you show up on stage, and his optics go wide in awe, as this is his first time seeing you in person.

Him and Sari actually bonded over your music when he first came to earth. You were one of the only human artists he’d liked, so he had seen all of your music videos, memorized all your songs and their lyrics, watched every interview you’d done and admired your work. It was absolutely insane to see you on stage, especially with Sari there, as she was an even bigger fan than he was.

You start performing and he swears he feels his spark swell. Your voice is even more beautiful in person, and the sight of you all dressed up and in the flesh, singing your heart out is especially captivating to him. At one point during the chorus of one of your songs, you stop and move to the front of the stage, tilting the microphone down to him.

Him and Sari sing the line into the mic, and the crowd cheers and continues, but he swears you looked at him with blushing cheeks and something sparkling in your (e/c) optics when you did that.

Eventually, the show ends and they use their VIP passes to get backstage. Tons of other fans are back there talking to you and some others, but eventually, you work your way out of the crowd and approach him and Sari.

First, Sari talks to you, and you have a very enthusiastic conversation with her about your music, her and her hobbies, etc before signing the t-shirt Sari is wearing with the cover of your most recent album on it.

Then, you turn to him with a smirk.

“Hey, handsome, need an autograph?” You don’t even ask before lifting yourself up to sign his chestplates- thankfully, with a dry erase marker. Your name is scrawled out across his body, and a weird part of him wants to keep it there forever. “What’s your name?”

“O-Optimus Prime, and you are?” He stammers, voice cracking, and Sari, who is still on his shoulder, laughs at him. “W-Wait, no, I know your name! I’m a huge fan, really... Forgive me, I- I’m a little flustered, I just-”

“Well, Optimus Prime, here’s my number,” You grin and write your number on his palm without even asking before winking at him. “Gimme a call sometime- I can tell you want to, handsome.”

And, of course, he does give you a call- as the humans would do, he waits a couple of days and gives you a ring, and the two of you start setting up dates, those of which have to be kept very secretive and private to avoid paparazzi, but he doesn’t mind it.

Optimus being Optimus, he falls in love with you very quickly. You’re charming and bold, confident and fiery, passionate and loving, direct and open- a lot of things that he isn’t, and he loves you for it.

The two of you develop a great, dynamic relationship, and everyone loves it. Y’all are in those celebrity magazines all the time, and of course, y’all have a whole ship fandom.

#tf #tfa #transformers animated #transformers #optimus prime #tfa optimus prime x reader #ask #asks #my asks #request #requests #headcanon #headcanons #drabble #drabbles #tfa optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #human reader

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catty-words · 4 years ago

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an exhaustive list of things i love about “perfect harmony”:

- on a meta level, i am deeply obsessed with the fact that madison and charlie wrote it together because that’s such a clever way to give the actors more immediate access to a huge part of their characters’ intimacy AND because it’s a really nice mentorship move, affording two actors early in their careers the opportunity to push their creative limits

- luke singing step into my world when he’s actually taking a step into julie’s, both in the context of the fantasy and in the story more broadly, and how the world being that of a bittersweet love story ‘bout a girl reinforces this crafty juxtaposition

- much of the choreography being a mirror image of the dance julie just did with nick, starting with the hands and how carelessly julie can take nick’s vs. how much pathos goes into the moment she tries to grab onto luke’s

- julie’s ‘please reassure me through this’ look she gives to luke when their hands miss coming into contact twice and his ‘trust me, you got this’ eyebrow wiggling and subtle little nod

- and then the way she freaking Comes Alive when they finally do touch

- when the keyboard beat drops and just. the song currently exists solely in julie’s head so of course it’s driven forward by her instrument while being supported readily by luke’s lulling guitar (god i just *clenches fists* love subtext)

- nick’s lift being straightforward and about the act of the lift vs. both of luke’s lifts being more stylized and romantic

- the lyric when he goes, i know he doesn’t leave because it’s a playful line about luke being a ghost but also because luke’s not there in dance class yet he’s fully alive in julie’s head and heart she’s carrying him with her always the ROMANCE of it all

- speaking of ROMANCE her hand planted over his heart for the move that accompanies the lyric? top-shelf

- nick’s fancy floor moves ft. julie vs. luke’s fancier floor moves ft. fancier julie

- they just have the cutest flirty expressions here idk

- nick & julie’s clumsy and short-lived version of this move vs. luke & julie’s smooth af, lingering version

- the way all these mirrored moments add up to say that luke has fully supplanted nick as the loverboy of julie’s fantasy life and is clearly a far more complete person to her than nick ever was. on the flip side of that, though, is the way these mirrored moments speak to flynn’s line about julie ‘always want[ing] what she can’t have’...nick is there in real life and it’s less glamorous than the fantasy. which is only a small part of why julie’s going full ��i am not looking i do not see it’ with nick’s feelings but the writing/framing is encouraging us to see that it’s still for sure a factor and i, for one, am compelled

- luke’s finger flare when he reaches his destination and they’re finally palm-to-palm and how it makes me need to lie down for a full hour

- smiiiiles

- and lastly, the way the complete song is chock full of lyrics that play with the convergence of these two people being in each other’s lives unnaturally (two worlds collide when i’m with you + we’re heaven on earth) and their connection being only more powerful for that fact (we come to life when we’re / in perfect harmony speaking to how they defy death through music + love me as i am / i’ll hold your music here inside my hand building on that to bring the deepest ‘music = the spark of life’ cut into being)

#julie and the phantoms #jatpedit #julie molina #luke patterson #gifs by catty #eml*#jatp meta #500 #did i really kick off this list getting emotional over resume building?#I SURE DID. and that's how you know i'm one of the adults in the fandom skgsdk #anyway #another lyric i'm obsessed with but can't quite fit onto the list because i try to go in chronological order #and the chronology of the shortened song is all off #is 'you set me free' sung by luke because. LITERALLY.#and then of course shout out to my jukebox tag #melody & words #in other news #i tried out a new skill for this list (the one moment fading into another thing) so please clap for me #it turned out quite nicely if i do say so myself

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ptergwen · 4 years ago

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sensation

w/c: 4.6k

warnings: some swearing, suggestive tings, and a pretty bad ending

summary: it’s the last night of your world tour, and tom has the perfect way to celebrate

a/n: i know y’all have been waiting for this one! everyone really loved when worlds collide but i ran out of ideas for it lol sorry... anyways my solution was to turn it into a oneshot :D based off the au!! i’m honestly nervous about posting this cuz a lot of you asked for it and i don’t wanna disappoint but i tried my absolute hardest to make it special <3 please enjoy

“thank you so much! we love you!” you shout to the audience, laughing breathlessly when they shout back. one of your dancers pulls you into a side hug, you throwing your arm around his neck. “we’re so fucking lucky you chose us, that you came all the way here. i’ve seen some of you back at night one. wow.” your voice gets wobbly, thinking about how loyal your fans are.

the tour started in new york, and they’ve followed you here to london.

tonight is an emotional night for everyone. you’re about to wrap your last show before you continue again in the summer. touring the u.k. has been a dream, and you’re just as thrilled to travel the rest of the world after your break. it’s bittersweet because you’re going to miss the hell out of your crew and the millions of lovely faces you’ve sang to each week. but, you do get to spend your time off with a special someone.

he’s watching you from the sound booth, sending fond smiles and loud cheers your way. thanks to you, tom has been at every show you’ve played in england. he brought harry along this time because he’s also a fan and wanted to see you. well, tom is more than a fan at this point. you’d say he’s more of a boyfriend. you haven’t discussed labels just yet.

your dates have mainly been over facetime, since you live on opposite sides of the world with insane schedules. a heartthrob actor and international popstar is quite the combination. you’ve only seen each other in person a couple of times, the first being pretty recently.

zendaya brought tom along to hang out with you in los angeles. he happened to be there recording some lines for a movie. she saw your concert earlier that night and invited him to crash the dinner plans you’d made, resulting in the best surprise and most fun you’ve ever had. the other time you enjoyed each other’s company was one weekend in paris. that was... something.

besides those two miracles, everything between you and tom happens through a screen. you’ll down bottles of champagne or keep warm under blankets while talking about your days. it’s nice, having someone on the other end who listens and actually hears you. tom gets it. you both do.

finishing your tour in london is convenient because not only will you have tom to comfort you, but you get to stick around for a while. he’s invited you to stay at his place. you can’t wait to meet the other holland’s, his friends, and obviously tessa.

“fuck, i’m gonna cry. i’m already crying,” you announce to the crowd, though they can tell from the tears streaming down your face. more dancers huddle around you and turn your single hug into a group one. you’re laughing and sobbing and holding on tight to everyone. fans bawl their own eyes out, the fact that this is it starting to settle in. the onstage crew even gets choked up, seeing you like this.

tom pouts from where he’s watching. he wishes he could run up there and squeeze you tight, but he’ll have to save that for when you’re done.

“i love you all so much, literally every single one of you in this room,” you tell everyone for the nth time tonight, swiping a perfectly manicured finger under your eyes. “my lighting crew, sound crew, my band, my fearless fucking dancers-“ a hiccup cuts you off. people burst into fits of giggles, which is a much needed tension breaker. you adjust your headset so the mic doesn’t pick up any other bodily noises.

grinning, you rest your arm on a shorter dancer’s shoulder, then go on. “sorry, sorry. i just wanna say, like, three more thank you’s before i get out of here.” there’s a chorus of no’s and encouraging whistles at the mention of you leaving. you blink back more tears to delay the breakdown you’re going to have. “thank you to my friends who always show up for me.”

with a knowing smile, you glance over at tom. “and, thank you to my more than a friend.” he smiles back, both hands held over his heart. harry elbows him in congratulations. more screaming erupts from the crowd as they realize where you’re looking and who you’re looking at. this will be sure to spark some headlines. whatever, you’re used to trending on every possible social media platform by now.

“this is the big one,” you preface, taking in a breath while everyone quiets down again. “thank you to you guys. for trusting me, for caring about what i have to say in any way. i feel your love. i really do, and i hope you feel mine.” your fans yell that they love you back, dancers gently swaying you side to side, emotions on high. there’s one last song, and it’s over.

“this has been the sensation tour, and i’ve been your host. was i good?” you try to lighten the mood, earning a bunch of what sound like positive shrieks. the earpiece you have in makes it hard to tell. “y’all were even better.” exchanging looks with your dancers, you pull out of the hug so you can get to your mark for the finale. they follow your lead. music comes through the speakers.

“i’ll see you again soon, okay? i promise. here’s sensation,” you introduce the song, immediately bursting into more tears. it’s torture to say goodbye. thankfully, you have the most incredible fans on earth, so they sing along with you at the top of their lungs. that includes tom and harry, your ultimate stans.

when the show is over, you run right off stage and over to tom. he’s waiting on the side with actual heart eyes for you. you practically leap into his arms, a hand cradling the back of his head, both his arms draped low and tight around your body.

“you were so amazing up there! absolutely smashed it, darling,” tom breathes out. his face is smushed between your neck and mostly bare chest. “thanks, tom. seriously, thanks for being here tonight and every other.” you smile a tired smile and wind your other arm around his neck. he presses some light you’re welcome kisses to your skin. “mm, thanks for having me. how’s it feel to be done?”

you sigh, fingers running through his curls. “like the biggest relief, and also really sad.” you’re such a mess that you could cry again on the spot. tom senses it and lifts his head up to see if you’re alright. “super depressing,” you surprisingly reiterate without the waterworks. “i know the feeling. you’ll be back soon, though. you said it,” he murmurs, a grin on his lips as they brush against the corner of yours.

you’re about to kiss him properly, then one of your dancers comes up to you. you’d forgotten that there are still stage managers and security everywhere, too. you get completely lost in tom whenever you’re together.

“you killed, babe,” coco greets you, linking your arm in hers. tom takes the hint and lets go of you. he watches on with a smirk. “nah, you murdered,” you send the compliment back and bite your lower lip. “i dunno, i feel like someone murdered me!” there’s coco with her dramatics. she’s genuinely hilarious, your shared sense of humor playing a huge part in your friendship.

she brings your free hand to her heart. you gasp at how fast it’s going. “that shit is really beating, coco. are you, like, okay?” “probably not. it was the freestyle that got me.” coco went a lot harder than usual tonight, since it was her last big dance break for a while. she puffs air from her cheeks and nods to tom. “this your man?”

“yeah, you could say that. i’m tom,” he answers, holding out a hand for her. “coco.” she pulls it like you would in a handshake. you beam at them, one of your best friends and unofficial boyfriend finally meeting. “sounds promising. i approve,” coco mutters to you. bumping your hip into hers playfully, you take one of tom’s hands in both of yours.

“aw, we have your blessing or something? your permission?” you coo and get a push at your shoulder from coco in return. tom chuckles, his thumb running over the back of your hand. “no! i was gonna say you should bring him out back,” coco clarifies, like it was obvious. you’re not sure what she’s on about. “uh, what’s out back?” you question. “an axe?” tom teases.

coco gestures to the nearest exit. “we’re having a little goodbye party in the parking lot. fire pit, snacks. remember?” nope, you’d completely forgotten. the idea first sounded like the perfect way to end your night, so you agreed to go. that was before you were dripping sweat and mentally exhausted. now, all you want to do is unwind with tom and tom only.

the superstar life is one you’re happy to lead, just not at this exact moment.

“i do now.” you muster up your most apologetic smile for coco, tugging on tom’s hand. “i’m sorry, co. i think we’re gonna pass.” her jaw drops. you’re never one to skip these things. “aw, for real? it’s our last night!” tom threads his fingers through yours while you talk. “bro, we’ve been together for almost a whole year,” you laugh out, nuzzling your cheek into tom’s chest. “get sick of me.”

“never,” coco deadpans. she catches you gazing up at tom, relaxing as his arms hug your middle. she’s known you long enough to tell what’s a fling and what’s real love for you. this is something special, and she can’t get in the way of it. she’ll let you navigate this yourself. “ok, just for tonight. you’ll text me?” coco gives you a real smile, raising an eyebrow at tom. he gathers that’s a good thing. he’s in.

“mhm. maybe we can hang out tomorrow,” you agree and let your eyes flutter shut. all that’s keeping you up are tom’s strong arms. “tell everyone i love them.” “i think they know.” coco shakes her head lightheartedly. tom laughs at her. “be good,” she tells him and means it, rubbing your back on her way to the lot. that leaves you and tom alone at last.

custodians are cleaning up the arena, fans are piling out, and you’re clinging to tom while his steady heartbeat grounds you. this is the only after party you need.

“harry’s got the car when you’re ready,” tom mumbles, tucking a piece of damp hair behind your ear. you loop your arms around his torso with a hum. “i was kinda wondering where he went.” “yeah?” he gives you a small smile. “gotta ask what he thought... of the show.” yawns are creeping past your lips, tonight’s events catching up to you.

“i like feedback from the fans, or stans,” you elaborate in your sleepy state. tom uses his fingertips to tap your temple. “what about me? i’m your biggest.” “i’ll, um, follow up with you later.” your words are slurring. “right now, home.” warmth spreads throughout tom’s entire body, his house becoming yours for a bit. “your chariot awaits,” he affirms before helping you to your dressing room.

after collecting your things, you follow tom out to the car. harry is in the driver’s seat, and you two slip into the back. he exchanges a look with his brother through the mirror while you settle on his shoulder. you’re hugging his bicep, his lips pressing to the side of your head.

“thank you for driving,” you speak softly to harry. he starts to pull out of the spot with a nod. “no problem. get to say i was y/n y/l/n’s chauffeur.” tom clicks his tongue even though harry is joking. you snicker at his remark, joking back. “you want the job? better be a five star ride, then.” your banter brings yet another smile to tom’s face. his family is everything to him, so seeing you get along so well means the most.

“right, right. did you have a good time?” harry wonders, twisting to see behind him while he turns around. he also peeks at you snuggled up to tom before facing forward. “great, actually. did you?” you check, the grin clear in your voice. harry goes into full stan mode. “no shit! you were brilliant, y/n. god, every note was just like how you did it the studio.” he’s raving, which is much appreciated by you.

“good answer.” tom shoots his brother a wink. “‘s that what you wanted to hear?” he asks in reference to your conversation earlier. your response is a kiss to his shoulder. “yay. i’m happy you liked it, harry.” he buzzes with excitement, having his favorite artist care what he thinks.

not much is said for the rest of the drive. tom and harry make some hushed conversation about golfing this weekend while you struggle to stay awake. they’re obsessed with that damn sport. it’s honestly nice to see, that tom has something he likes to do when he isn’t shooting hollywood’s biggest movies. your free time will finally give you the chance to discover other hobbies.

you stumble out of the car upon arriving to the boys’ place, a backpack on your shoulders and tom’s hand held tight in yours. you’ve got only a few essentials with you for tonight. the rest is on the tour bus, so you’ll gather it after your hangout with coco. besides, everything you need at the moment is right here.

“home sweet home,” tom announces as harry unlocks the front door. his words bring a tired smile to your face. “finally,” you exhale, keeping your fingers laced with tom’s and following the two of them inside. “i could show you around a bit, give you the grand tour. or-“ tom stops talking, feeling your weight on him. harry huffs at how oblivious his brother is.

“mate, she’s falling over. save it,” he suggests and kicks the door shut lazily. you’re done in. you’ve been having to lean on tom since the show ended. “another time, then,” tom mumbles, securing his arm around your waist. “there is one thing i wanna see.” your voice is low, body curled into tom’s side. he raises an eyebrow. “and that is?” “your room.”

tom takes that in a suggestive way, like he does most things. “we’re getting right to it, are we?” he questions, harry gagging and you nudging his arm with your head. “not like that, dummy. ‘cuz i’m sleepy.” there’s a beat of silence. “ask me again in-“ “wow, look at the time!” harry interrupts so he doesn’t have to hear the details. he’s sure he’ll witness enough after it happens. “off to bed i go! goodnight.”

he rushes to get to his room, yelling out, “great show, y/n!” on the way. “thank you! night!” you call back, tom letting out a sigh. “div of the century,” he says under his breath. “must run in the family,” you playfully retort. that gets you a firm poke at your side. “where’s everyone else?” you glance up at him. there should be two other idiots and a lovely, furry lady running around.

“tuwaine’s gone to the pub, harrison’s filming late, and tess is at mum and dad’s,” tom fills you in, grabbing your arm and draping it around his middle. doing him one better, you hug him with both. you squint in confusion about the last part. “they watch her when i’m out,” tom answers your unspoken question. “ah,” you nod, then deflate ever so slightly. “i wanted to meet her, though. the other boys, too.”

tom smooths the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “you will, darling. it’s only for tonight.” he kisses the same spot reassuringly. “we’ve got loads of time.” “yeah, we do,” you agree, instantly cheering up and letting your head fall onto his chest. “now, where’s your room?” “just upstairs. you need some help getting in?” he’s only playing around, but you accept, tightening your arms around his neck.

“show me the way,” you beam at him. “happy to.” tom wiggles his eyebrows, you jumping up. your legs wrap around his waist, his arms holding you against him. with a satisfied hum, you squish your face into his insanely soft shirt. “what a diva,” tom sarcastically complains while taking you to the staircase. “doesn’t even say please. no manners from this one.”

“you try dancing in six inch heels for two hours,” you shoot back, patting the side of his neck. he moves one hand down to your thigh for a better grip. you’re nearing the top of the stairs. “think i’ll leave that to you,” he decides and squeezes your thigh. “look at me, carrying the whole music industry.” your face easily gets hot and your words turn to murmurs. “shut up. you should listen to other songs.”

you’re on the second floor now, tom going for the first door. he frowns at his rejected compliment. “no, i like yours. they’re my favorite.” “really?” your muffled laugh sounds from his chest. “what was the first thing i ever said to you?” he asks, a toothy grin on him even though you can’t see it. you recall the faithful night he slid into your dms while he carries you into his room.

he’d tripped over his words somehow, the fangirling fool. before that, he tweeted to the whole world that he wanted to see you in concert. it was a huge thing, and people were freaking out about it, even more so when your online interactions became routine. that’s nothing compared to where you are now.

you’re currently living with him and basically dating. possibly, in love. the base of it all really is your music.

“that you love me.” you pause for the ellipses. the corners of your lips turn up. “but, you really meant to say my work.” “both apply.” tom passes that off like it’s a side comment, carefully laying you down on his bed. you look up at him with a curious glint in your eyes. “what does that mean?” his cheeks flush, and he bites back the smile that’s growing. this was supposed to go... differently.

you sit up, breathing out a laugh at tom’s boyish behavior. he’s precious, truly. “you do love me?” those three words will change everything if he says yes. he takes both your hands in his and holds them between you two. you meet his doe eyes. “yeah, y/n/n. i do.” so, you were right. “i love you... and, that wasn’t how i planned on saying it.” signaling for him to elaborate, you tilt your head to the side.

tom sits down next to and faces you before continuing. “it was supposed to be romantic, right?” he rolls his eyes up to the ceiling, annoyed he ruined this. “candlelit dinner, flowers, that sort of thing. seems more fitting for the occasion.” you shift closer to him until your knees are touching. your face is lit up, voice dropped to almost a whisper.

“since when do we do things the way we’re supposed to?” you point out and set your hands on his shoulders. “we’ve gone straight from online dating to me moving in. that’s usually not how it works.” tom chuckles lowly. his own hands find their place on your hips. you’re so good with words. then again, you are a singer. “guess you could say we’re, um, spontaneous,” he agrees, fingers drawing circles on you.

you and tom have explored some of each other’s most intimate places, yet you’ve never shared a moment quite like this. it’s like meeting him for the first time again. he’s too tongue tied to spit out what he wants. you somehow know, anyway. what you cherish most about your relationship is that you two completely and totally understand one another, on every level.

“tom?” you speak quietly, butterflies filling up your body. “hm?” he hums back. this is one of those moments where it all just clicks. “i love you. i really, really love you.” you giggle out of the pure happiness that consumes you, tom joining in your laughter. “i love you, too.” he sounds like he’s said it a million times and he’ll say it a million more. he leans over so his forehead rests on yours. “really, really love you.”

your warm breath hits his face, eyes darting from his own to his lips. “i want you to be more than...” you trail off, unsure of how to phrase it. “more than... more than a friend?” tom pokes fun at what you said during the show. there’s less and less space between you with every second. “you mean, like, a boyfriend?”

“exactly. be my boyfriend,” you all but demand. you’re half asleep and desperate to be able to call him yours already. “bossy, bossy, bossy,” tom chastises, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. how he goes from being shy and giddy to the cockiest person alive in minutes, you’ll never know. “please?” you throw in to sway him. your hand locks with his, slowly moving it off your face.

you run your tongue over your teeth. “at least kiss me.” “you don’t have to ask,” tom breathes, lips now ghosting over yours. “i was going to.” true to his words, he closes the microscopic gap between you, you pushing forward against him as you kiss back. your first kiss in love. his lips taste like the chapstick he always uses, and he moves them softly.

he places a hand on your knee, you opening your mouth so he can have access to it. instead, a yawn exits. tom pulls back with a breathy laugh. “you must be exhausted, yeah? let’s get you to bed.” he pecks your lips once more. “my girl needs her beauty rest.” that confirms your relationship. you scrunch your nose and grin wide. “and, she’s gonna get some with her boy.”

you’re reminded of how sweaty you are when you catch a whiff. “oof, wait. do you think i can take a shower first?” you grimace, fanning at the air for emphasis. tom uses the tip of his nose to nudge yours. “absolutely. need help in there, too?” he’s not asking in that way, only so nothing happens. the hospital wouldn’t be the most pleasant place to spend your break. plus, he doesn’t want to be without you too long.

“you know what? yeah.”

that’s how you end up intertwined under the hot water, letting it cascade down your back as tom hugs you close to him. you sigh in content and tangle your fingers in his fluffed over curls. you’ve learned that he’s super into having his hair played with. it’s endearing, how he instinctively leans into your touch, eyes closing as you tug on the roots.

he drops his head down to kiss your shoulder, dragging his lips to your collarbone in a way that tickles. they land on one of your breasts next. there isn’t anything sexual about it, only loving. just in case he gets too excited because it’s not uncommon he does, you gently put a finger to his lips. tom takes the hint and lets up. you continue combing through his wet hair while you step out of the water.

“do you ever sing in the shower?” he questions, drawing your naked body in closer to his. “sometimes, yeah. i honestly feel like i sound better there,” you admit and slide your hand down to the nape of his neck. tom’s tongue darts out to lick his lips. “not true. you sound beautiful everywhere, and don’t fight me on this one.” he smirks in satisfaction, you groaning at your loss.

“i really enjoy hearing your voice when it blares through an arena, though,” tom keeps buttering you up. you shake your head and settle both arms around his neck. “man, i just love you so much.” “i love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs back, you switching places so he can give his hair a final rinse. you watch him and his glowing body, admiring the sight.

“what a sensation you are,” you say mostly to yourself, which doesn’t stop him from hearing. “i see what you did there.” he eyes you while you do the same to him. your arms still around his neck pull him back to you. “tommy? do you sing in the shower?” you meant to ask him before, then he started throwing all those compliments at you.

tom scoffs, walking you back so you’re against the wall. “i don’t sing anywhere.” “what?” you gasp and put a hand on his chest. “you’re lying, you have to be. wasn’t billy elliot a musical?” he narrows his eyes at you as he tries to gage where you’re going with this. “that i did a decade ago, and way before puberty. couldn’t sing a word without cracking after that.”

your mouth is left hanging open in shock and disappointment. you bet he has a nice voice, and he’s downplaying it. “y/n,” tom begins, cupping your jaw with his palm. “since we’re living together now, there’s a lot you’re going the learn about me. good things, weird things.” he shrugs casually. “this is one of the weird things.”

“only because you make it weird! come on, let me hear you,” you request and wrap a leg around his waist. you’re giving him a hopeful smile. “god, no. you’ll hate it,” he almost laughs, a hand on your thigh. “i’m literally a singer. how could i hate something i love?” you refute, batting your lashes at him. “especially when someone i love is doing it.” “i love you, too. but, i’m not.” he’s quick to shut you down.

“drop a bar!” you try to coax him, which he already has a comeback for. “you first.” “i can’t. my throat is all scratchy from earlier,” you lie. tom presses his lips into a line, feigning pity. “aw, you know what’ll make you feel better? tea. i’ll go get you some.” he turns to shut the water off, so you grab his shoulders. “no, the steam is working. you can stay.”

“love,” tom addresses you in a warning tone that you can’t take seriously. he can’t either, a giggle escaping him. “my voice is shit. ask anyone, and they’ll tell you.” “i won’t believe them,” you hum, pushing back curls sticking to his forehead. “sounds like you just have stage fright. we can work on that, though.” “how?” he tightens his arm around your middle.

“i’ll bring you on for my next show. we’ll do a little duet.” you’re joking, though that would definitely be interesting to see unfold. “uh, never. what happened to you being tired?” tom cleverly deflects and digs his fingers into your side. you look down in defeat. “i forgot about that.” “yeah, yeah. no, seriously. we should really get to sleep, y/n/n.” he’s back to his sweet, attentive self. “‘s been a long night.”

giving in with a nod, you capture his lips in yet another kiss. tom never gets tired of them, and neither do you. you break it after a few seconds, lips lingering on his as they detach. “carry me?” you ask again, not caring how whiny you sound. tom presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “oh, you’re adorable. of course.”

well, you’ve found something to keep you occupied until the next leg of tour. you’re going to discover the many layers your intriguingly unusual boyfriend has.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland request #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader

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ariadne-does-her-best · 3 years ago

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Love in G Major

Dick Grayson x Reader One-Shot; Soulmate!Au

Word Count: 2,500+

Warnings: Kidnapping but nothing graphic happens

Author’s Note: Hey guys! This is my first time posting a fic so characters may be a little OOC. Please let me know if you guys liked this and if you want to, feel free to send a request! Also, I might make a series of Soulmate! Aus since I have a good idea for Jasons thought out. xo, Ariadne

Summary: In a world where everyone has a soulmate, you’re one of the lucky ones to receive a physical sign of your soulmate in the form of a timer counting down to when you’ll meet. But after being kidnapped by the Riddler, hours before you’re supposed to meet them, you can only pray that the Riddler of all people isn’t your soulmate.

Five hours.

You swayed to the rich sound of your cello, eyes closed, as you shifted your hand down into fourth position. You rested for a beat before going down bow, still doing vibrato even after the piece was done. The audience waited for a sign that you were done with the piece, be it that your hand stopped moving or you physically stood up and told them to clap. Instead, you opened your eyes and smiled as the diners took their cue to start clapping before inclining your head in thanks as you waited for the applause to die down.

It was a normal Saturday at the small but expensive Italian restaurant you performed at. You weren’t supposed to be there since you had requested to take today off but the owner had still put you down to play during half of the two-hour live performance time slot. At the end of the day, money was money and who were you to ever say no to the thousands you always received in tips. After all, you could only think about the new bow you could buy with the money. Which would lead to you sounding better, getting more gigs, and making more money. The process was like a cycle, really.

After the applause stopped and those who were up putting money in your jar had sat down in their seats, you sat back down and started playing Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1, Prelude. You could hear the pianist who was supposed to take over for the rest of the night setting up, his hands flipping through his many copies of sheet music.

Aside from the sounds of cutlery and the wisps of conversation, there was not much noise other than the smooth sound of your cello. But even if there were no noises, something still bothered you.

At first, it wasn’t that bad. You could feel someone staring at you, which was normal since you were performing on a stage with your whole being on display, but it was longer and more intense than normal. Letting your eyes wander around the crowded restaurant, your eyes locked onto a pair of green eyes. You smiled slightly at the young girl before wincing as the slight burning of your wrist got worse. You continued playing, closing your eyes as you tried to ignore the burning of your timer. Your soulmate timer.

You were one of the lucky individuals who had a visible connection to their soulmate. Instead of feeling a spark whenever you touch your soulmate, like your neighbors do, or being able to finally see color when you touch your soulmate, like your parents, you were one of the few lucky ones who could count down to the precise moment when you would meet your soulmate. And that was exactly what you did. When you were thirteen and your parents had explained your soulmate mark to you, the first thing you did was calculate when you would meet your soulmate according to your timer and write it down in your diary.

It was impossible for you to ignore the burning on your wrist, impossible for you to not grin as you played. But your grin was wiped off when you heard glass shatter and a scream.

Four hours.

You had no idea where you were but judging by the smell of the place and the fact that two men wearing green suits with question marks were staring at you, you were not at the restaurant.

‘At least I still have my cello,’ you thought as you pulled against the ropes that tied you against a pillar. The henchmen were talking between themselves as they approached the pillar where you were tied. They started untying you from the pillar and you took this opportunity to suddenly stand up and run.

You heard one of the henchmen curse but you ran in random zigzag lines towards where the door was. It was weird that the henchmen didn’t shoot at you or even attempt to stop you. But you ignored the niggling in the back of your mind. Wrenching the door open, you looked back at where your cello lay and turned back around to walk towards your freedom.

Except it wasn’t your freedom, it was the Riddler in his forest green suit and bowler combo. A rather tacky-looking combo in your opinion but hey, you weren’t going to be the one to break the news to a murderous criminal. He looked up at your sudden entrance and smiled.

“Here she is,” he said, yanking you into the room where the guests of the restaurant were tied onto the seats of an auditorium. You shivered as the cold air hit you and you looked around the room, taking in the TV production set up and the large stage that covered up more than half of the room there.

The Riddler dragged you up onto the stage, and you couldn’t help but wince as the harsh lights burned your eyes.

“What am I doing on stage,” you asked the Riddler as you covered your eyes with your hands. The Riddler’s smile became somehow larger, looking rather comical for a second before becoming more uncomfortable to look at. “Riddle me this,” the Riddler started as he pushed you down onto a chair, “what is it that cannot open any locks and yet has 24 keys?”

Your eyes furrowed in confusion as you rubbed at your wrist, the burning sensation somehow getting worse.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled as a minute passed.

“Well, if you don’t know, why don’t we give you a little motivation to figure out the right answer?”

And with that, the Riddler drew out a gun and pointed it at the closest person seated at the stage, the pianist. At this point, you could hear the sobs wracking through his body and you thought about his elderly parents who depended on him to pay for their surgeries. You don’t know how you could live with his blood on your hands.

“Wait, I have the answer,” you cried out, reaching out to grab the Riddler’s elbow but stopping. Something told you that that wouldn’t be a good idea and he might take that opportunity to shoot you.

“Well, do go on.”

“It’s music,” you said, staring at the deranged man’s face. He broke into peals of laughter, clapping his hands, as he tried to settle himself. It was unnerving how he could flip the switch easily from being a man ready to kill another to laughing as if you were the funniest person on Earth.

“That’s correct. And with that, let us start the games.”

Three hours.

After asking you his initial riddle, the Riddler had quickly set up a broadcast to be shown to all of Gotham, using the footage that one of his henchmen had taken of him questioning you as the intro.

“Batman, I have two riddles for you,” he said, addressing the camera. If you weren’t stuck on stage with two guns pointed at you as you tuned a somewhat cheap cello, you would have sighed. Why couldn’t he also include picture puzzles or something else for once? But you were stuck on stage so you just carefully tuned the instrument, hoping that none of the guards took your movement as you tuned as a sign of your sad attempt at running away.

“There are as many constellations in the sky as there are keys in a piano. What number am I? There you will find the answer to, ‘What is it that makes songs but you will never hear it sing?’ You have an hour to find them before I start playing my little game.”

As if that's your cue, one of the gunmen poked your back and you tensed, surprised by how cold the metal was through your sweater. You quickly quit your tuning and started playing the op. 88, hoping that maybe Batman or Robin would recognize it. It would probably be difficult for them to recognize since they probably weren’t as necessarily as interested in music as you were. And if they were, it’d probably be a little difficult to hear and piece together the piece since you were playing more stiffly than your usual languid movements.

You just hoped that they could understand the Riddler’s riddle and show up to save the night.

Two hours.

An hour has passed of you sitting in your seat playing your cello. Your butt was stiff from the hard chair, your back hurt from your stiff posture, and your wrist was burning pretty badly. At the thought of your wrist, your mind recoiled slightly. What if your soulmate was one of the Riddler’s henchmen? Or the Riddler himself? The thought of it made you want to puke.

“Well Gotham,” the Riddler said, standing in front of the mic as he paused to look dramatically at the camera. “Batman still hasn’t arrived yet so I will be starting my game. And today we have a very special guest that will be playing with me.”

At this, the goons started applauding and you heard a child in the audience cry even louder.

“Our special guest is the one and only (Y/N) (L/N) who has been playing such lovely music for us during our broadcast.”

You sat in your chair, music forgotten as another stage light shone on you.

“Now come on (Y/N), don’t be shy. I know that I’m somewhat of a local celebrity but I don’t bite.”

You shivered under the Riddler’s gaze and got up, trying your best not to stumble as you walked towards him. Your breathing was labored now and the closer you got to the Riddler, the more you felt like you were going to faint.

“(Y/N) here is going to play a simple game. She’s going to play a song that shows up in the cards,” he held up a large stack of index cards and fanned them out on the podium. The crying from the audience became even louder, with ‘Please, no’s mixed in. You turned to watch the small girl from the restaurant being dragged onto the stage, the bright lights highlighting the tears running down her face.

“And if (Y/N) here cannot play the song or if she plays even a single note or rhythm incorrectly, little Bella here will be dunked into this vat of water. For each mistake, she will be kept there for thirty seconds longer.”

You watched in horror as the girl was dragged towards what looked like a giant hole in the ground filled with water. She struggled against her restraints as she cried, her bleary eyes focused on something over your shoulder. You looked over in the corner of your eye and saw the familiar red and yellow of Robin.

As you turned around to shake the Riddler’s hand in acceptance of the rules, you curled your hand in a fist.

“Let the game begin,” he shouted, smiling at the camera before he went to choose a card.

“I’m sorry but we’re going to have to change the rules,” you said before pulling back your fist and punching him in the jaw.

One hour.

You were hiding in the corner of the stage, hidden by the curtains as you tried to untie Bella. The poor girl was trying to hold her sobs in but some still escaped, sounding misplaced in the sounds of Batman and Robin beating the Riddler & co. into oblivion.

You shushed her and tried to twist the rope and push it through the knot when a birdarang flew through the gap of the curtains and sliced your cheek along with the stray strands of hair nearby before hitting the wood paneling behind you. You ignored the blood that was slowly dripping down your face before grabbing the birdarang. You probably grabbed it wrong since it cut the palm of your hand, making you curse under your breath as you started sawing through the multiple knots in the ropes around Bella’s hands and feet.

Once she was free, the little girl tried to get up and run but you grabbed her, putting a finger up to your mouth and cupping a hand behind your ear, whispering “listen.”

You both sat there, listening to the sounds of Robin giggling as he punched someone. You furrowed your brow at that, wondering who exactly was the boy crazy enough to dress up as a traffic signal and fight crime with an equally weird man dressed as a bat.

You slowly started standing up once the sounds of Robin’s laughter had receded before holding a hand out to Bella. The young girl grabbed your hand and you both started edging your way off of the stage area where the fighting was taking place and towards her parents. Batman and Robin were tying people up when you finally found Bella’s father, the sound of the GCPD’s sirens in the background becoming louder and louder as they came closer.

As you and the other hostages made your way out, making sure to jump across the dock to the other side so you don’t fall into the disgusting water down below, you felt someone grab your wrist. You turned and smiled at Bella’s father.

“Why don’t you go and seek some medical assistance?”

“I will sir,” you replied before making your way to the paramedics, letting them fuss over your cuts. You could see Batman speaking to Commissioner Gordon but you couldn’t see Robin near them.

“I think you have something of mine,” Robin said with a grin as he held his hand towards you. You were surprised to see him in front of you but you smiled at him confused.

“I don’t know what you’re…,” you trailed off when you looked down to where he was pointing to see that you were still holding his birdarang.

“Oh. Well, I don’t know… maybe I should keep it. Something to remind me of this day,” you teased as you held up the birdarang so it was eye-level.

“Alright, you can keep it. Just don’t tell Batsie,” he said with a wink, causing you to giggle. “I’m sorry for cutting you.”

“It’s fine,” you said, wincing as the burning on your wrist became worse. Robin also gave out a hiss of pain at the same time as you, causing you to both stare at each other. You reached your hand out towards him slowly, letting your hands ghost over his cheekbones slightly when you felt the telltale cooling sensation of your wrist.

“Let’s go talk somewhere else,” he said, and you nodded, following behind him to an empty alleyway.

“Let me introduce myself again,” he started taking off his mask, “I’m Dick Grayson.”

You were met with the most beautiful pair of lilac-blue eyes, causing you to catch your breath in the back of your throat.

“And I’m (Y/N).”

“Why don’t we get out of here and get to know each other better, princess?”

“I would like that, love bird.”

#robin #nightwing #robin dick #robin dick grayson #dick grayson #dick grayson oneshot #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x reader imagines #dick grayson x reader imagine #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson imagine #dc imagine #dc imagines #ariadne writes #ariadne does her best to write

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atveren · 3 years ago

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The Monstadt and Liyue boys: You are the victim of a killing game+you as the blackened

Diluc, Venti, Albedo, Chongyun, Kazuha, Childe, Aether, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli, Scaramouche

Warnings: Blood, Death, Self-Hate, Self-Blaming, Depression Mentions, Swearing, Injury Detail, Execution Detail, All detail described is vivid, but original, slight mentions of suicidal intentions. Be warned, this fic is not for the faint of heart. I’m on mobile, so please scroll past if any of this triggers you.

Based off of Danganronpa, but not many spoilers for the games.

Gender Neutral (You/Yours, They/Them)

Ultimates will be put next to the GI characters names, and yours will be ‘(Ultimate Talent)’.

They still possess their visions

This may interfere with canon, but this is an AU so that doesn’t matter. Also it breaks some rules of Danganronpa, and again this a fanfiction so take that as you will.

The executions will be on a seperate line, if you’d prefer to skip the detail.

Requests are open! For Genshin Impact only at the moment.

Diluc, The Ultimate Winery Owner

Your body is found

Diluc had remained level headed throughout this ordeal, especially since you were there. He believed he had to protect you, and would do anything for you to both escape. It was just another day, during free time when the body announcement played. He sighed, knowing how upset you’d be, you were usually one of the unlucky few that ran into the body first. Unlike usual, you hadn’t ran off to find him. “Maybe they haven’t found it yet..” He muttered, his mind not dare travelling to the darkest assumption. As he walked, he became more concerned. Hopefully, you were just asleep in your dorm and had missed the announcement. As Diluc approached the area, he noticed the guilty glances of others. He was confused, and upon entering the room, he froze. He didn’t want to believe it. There you were, chest slashed open. It was a gruesome sight, he felt sick. He rushed to your side, not wanting to believe this was real. But when he grabbed your arm, and it was cold. He blamed himself, he was meant to protect you. He didn’t want to lose you too. But he did, and he snapped. Nobody saw him until the trial. And when your killer was found out? Well, he almost killed them himself. It wouldn’t be surprising if he turned into a blackened.

You are the Blackened.

“And that would make the killer, (Full Name).” One of the others had announced. Your boyfriend stared at you, in denial. You let out a laugh. “Oh, well done. You got it right.” You seemed nonchalant about it, and shrugged. The voting was quickly dealt, despite Diluc’s protests. When Monokuma announced that yes, it was you, Diluc still couldn’t believe it. He walked over to you. “Why?” He questioned, but his voice was breaking. “Well, I wasn’t planning on getting caught. I wanted us out of here, no matter the cost.” You said with a sigh. You seemed frustrated your plan hadn’t gone through. He stared at you, with shock. He didn’t believe it, he never would. But he knew what came next, you’d both seen it before. He didn’t give the others a chance to get near you, and embraced you. You gave smiled one final time at the Ultimate Winery Owner, before the chain locked around your neck, ripping you out his arms.

Your Execution.

Everyone was silent, as it started, but Diluc stared blankly, and if it wasn’t clear, he was in silent tears. He didn’t want to watch this, but it was like he was in a trance. You were tied down to a chair, something that looked like it was from an older time. There were mumbles about how this would go, most of the survivors being confused. That was until wine bottles were smashed against the ground near you, and he knew what was coming next. He wanted to rush in, and try stopping it, but it was like you could sense his thoughts, and practically froze him with a glare. The next part, broke the man, fully. A match was thrown into the spilled alcohol, and it engulfed the area in flames. Your screams and pleas destroyed whatever happiness he had left. And when the execution was over, he made a mental promise to be joining you soon.

Venti, The Ultimate Bard

Your body is found

The bard was always desperate for his freedom to be back, but he wouldn’t kill, no. Especially not if there was a chance you could be hurt. He’d developed an attachment to you throughout this, and you’d spend many nights in one another’s dorms. You’d listen as he strums his Lyre, one of the few things keeping you both sane through this hellhole. That all came crumbling down, as he was the first to find your body, and screamed. Others rushed in, and Venti was hyperventilating. He wouldn’t believe this, he couldn’t. He refused to leave your body’s side. As much as the way you were murdered made him disgusted to see, he just wanted his moments to say goodbye. “I’m so sorry, (Name)...I failed to protect someone again.” He sobbed out once the others had left to search for clues elsewhere. When the killer was announced, Venti sure did have a few choice words with them. He was screaming, and wouldn’t calm down. His composure was lost, and he wasn’t the same after losing you too.

You’re the blackened.

Venti couldn’t believe his eyes as your name was voted by everyone. And when it was comfirmed? The bard ran to you and clung to your body. He begged you for an answer, and when you said it was for his freedom? He sobbed. He said things he didn’t mean, and you knew he didn’t, not taking them to heart. His gaze was hidden from the monochrome bear, and you nodded at it. Signalling the end of your time. You knew there was no where to run, and you feared that the male you’d loved would be hurt if you made a break for it. You kissed Venti on the forehead, muttering your gentle apology and that you loved him. He mumbled an ‘I love you too’ and you knew he forgave you. But just as the words had left his mouth, you were ripped from him, now facing your death.

Your Execution.

Venti couldn’t watch, he knew you didn’t want him to. “I’m so sorry, (Name)..” He said under his breath, while crying. You couldn’t guess what would come next, when an instrument was shoved in your hands. If you messed up a note, the asphyxiation from the chain would only be slowed, not stopped. You just wanted this over with, and played to the best of your abilites. Venti covered his ears, he couldn’t listen or watch. When it was over, he dropped to his knees still sobbing, and it took one of the others dragging him to get him to move. He was rarely seen again, unless needed. There never was a spark in his eye, like before. Any melody the others heard when passing by was dark, it made them sad just hearing it.

Albedo, The Ultimate Alchemist

Your body is found

The two of you had developed a relationship, both having being considered ‘outcasts’ from the others. He would teach you of alchemy, and you would teach him (ultimate talent). You shared a gentle bond, even if at times it didn’t seem like you were all that close around the others, both minding your own business. It was a late night and you were in his ultimate lab, he calmly asked you to try this one thing he’d been working on, and you agreed, knowing he would never hurt you on purpose. You took the glass from him, and drank it. You soon felt your eyes grow heavy, and it was as if your pulse was slowing. Albedo gently called your name, concern written in his eyes. You couldn’t reply, seconds later, limply dropping against him. He felt panic rise, checking for any sign of life, and didn’t find it. In the trial, he was mostly silent. And upon his guilty judge? He accepted it, he was furious at himself, the one person that trusted him, died by his hands? Who wouldn’t that anger?

You are the blackened.

You laughed as your name was announced and Albedo stared. He didn’t want to believe it, but he did accept it. There was nothing he could change, nor do about this. He wished you’d just spoken to him, and told him to do it. He would have, especially since you did it so he would be free from all this. Your boyfriend approached you, and hugged you. The others muttered things of ‘Well that wasn’t a surprise’ and the like. You gave him a soft kiss, before accepting your fate. “Now! We’ve got a special punishment for (Full Name) The (Ultimate Talent)!” With that, you were chained and tied to a pole. “This is an especially special punishment, made by one your own!” The monochrome bear called out. There were confused yells, people panicking at one another. Who would it be?

Your Execution.

The lights flickered off, then on again. But it was a spotlight. The light fell on Albedo. “What..?” He questioned, staring at the others. Just as his question fell from his lips, an agonizing scream could be heard on your end. Chemicals upon chemicals were being launched at you. The others yelled at him, wondering how he could do something like this to somebody he’d called a lover. Albedo didn’t know, and called out again. “But..I never wanted this?! Especially not for them..” He recieved a laugh in return. “Now now, dear alchemist. If you hadn’t prepared all of these, your supposed sweetheart would’ve just had a quick little death! This is all *your* fault~” Monokuma said with a sing-song tone. He was lying, this would’ve had the same outcome no matter what Albedo did. But, the alchemist believed him. And cried. It was silent, and he didn’t realise it, but he was crying.He fully blamed himself, there was after all no evidence otherwise. It didn’t take long before he was considered dangerous, and avoided

Chongyun, The Ultimate Exorcist

Your body is found

An argument had been a bit too heated for him, and his condition acted up. You’d went with him, to the small area of his lab that was colder than the rest. He would normally come with you there, to calm down. Usually, you were dressed more appropriately for the temperature. You didn’t worry this time, more concerned over your boyfriend. You stayed cuddled close to him, but the temperature soon became too much. You didn’t want to upset him further, and stayed silent. He didn’t notice. You slowly felt your eyes shut, and rested more against him. He felt the weight, and went to tap your hand to let you know that he was fine now. But then he felt the skin that was far too cold. He screamed, and others rushed in. He didn’t forgive himself. He should have known, noticed, anything...Many nights were spent crying himself to sleep.

You’re the blackened

Disbelief, and thats all. He didn’t forgive you, but he did at the same time. He hated and loved you. It hurt, badly. And upon hearing your reasoning? He became more conflicted. He was lucky he brought popsicles, because otherwise it wouldn’t be good for him. He saw your stressed expression and sighed, before walking over and hugging you. You would be dead soon, anyway. This is the least he could do. The moment came all too fast, and then you were gone.

Your Execution

You had to try fending off spirits, but they weren’t real. You grew tired, fast as they weren’t normal opponents, plus the cold chill wasn’t anything better. Chongyun realised far too late he wasn’t mad, and he still loved you fully. He almost called it out to you, but you slipped up and were killed. It was bloody, and he felt sick. He hated this feeling. He just wanted you back, and in his arms. At the very least, you were out of this game, and resting somewhere. Maybe...maybe he would join you early. This was caused by him, after all.

Kazuha, The Ultimate Poet

Your Body is Found

You and the poet were close from the beginning. It hadn’t been long for a relationship to bloom from that. He would also tell you stories of his time at sea, while you both stayed together in the late evenings. You had said to him you just wanted to go grab a book, and he believed you’d be fine. That proved to be a fatal mistake, as when you entered the library, you were killed by a set trap. Kazuha waited, for an hour, before growing worried and rushing to your last known location. Being the library. He saw your body, and the panic rised. He quickly got everybody together, and was one of the main people during the investigation. At the trial, he was the first suspect, being the last person to be seen with you, and for not showing much emotion, but with his evidence, he was proven guilt free and the killer was found. They certainly didn’t expect the insults that flew from his mouth. He was anything but calm now. He’d lost two people by not being there in time, of course he was pissed off.

You are the blackened

Silence. That’s all you were met with. You couldn’t blame him, and you didn’t want to guilt him so you made an excuse as to why you killed. You had done it so the two of you could be free and sail off. You claimed it was because you were bored, and wanted something interesting to happen. He didn’t approach you. He just stared. It was disheartening. He still loved you, he just...he needed time. Time neither of you had. Not when you yelled out an apology as you were dragged to your final moments and any chance he had to let you know he forgives you, was gone.

Your Execution

You were sat in a chair, a book was slammed in front of you. Metallic hands wrapped around your neck and you guess what to do. Maybe...maybe you could survive this? You read, slowly, the poetry in hand. It was a painstaking process, but when you got to the end of the book, and lowered it, you thought it was over. Maybe this was a lucky chance? That was until you were finally choked fully. Kazuha knew he had time to yell it, that he did forgive you. But that was all gone now. You’d never know that he did love you still, despite everything. He’d lost two people close to him, and was now shut down. And tired.

Tartaglia, The Ultimate Freestyle Martial Artist

Your Body Is Found

You’d both taken a habit of approaching one another with an invitation to spar. It had started with him doing it solely to train you to defend yourself, but then it became a game to the both of you. Childe had decided today he would find you, as you’d snuck up often on him. He entered your dorm, calling out your name. What he didn’t expect was it to be a mess, and have things broken. “(Name)? Are you here? Is this a prank....?” He had asked, while walking around, looking for you, but he never expected the site of your cold, dead body under a table. He approached, almost laughing. “Come on now, (Name), this isn’t funny.” He reached his hand out, to grab your own, but being met with the cold feeling, he jumped back. He stared, and stared. He was in denial. He wouldn’t believe it. He didn’t. Not even at the trial. Not afterwards, not even at his own death, did he ever believe you were dead. He knew it was stupid, but somewhere inside he believed that this was some cruel joke, and you would both return home at some point.

You are the blackened

In case you had any doubt, Childe forgave you instantly as the news was announced. You thanked him, and he held you. He wasn’t upset or mad at you in the slightest. However, he was furious at Monokuma, knowing your execution would happen in mere moments. He held you, not wanting to let you go, ever. Tartaglia kissed your forehead, and muttered an ‘I love you.’ You smiled at him, before being dragged away.

Your Execution

A pole was thrown in your arms as these things started to attack, you tried defending yourself, but it was hard. You thought you’d have a way out, but the stage you were on became slippery and wet, and you struggled. Childe felt a fury burn inside bright than before, and ran to your aid, disarming one of the things and using that to defend you and himself. It seemed to be going well, but they were coming faster than either of you could handle. Tartaglia swore he would get you out of there, but that all fell down as you missed a hit and were killed with one blow. Everyone thought it was over, but they kept attacking, eventually overpowering him too. At the very least, you were able to die together.

Aether, The Ultimate Traveller

Your body was found

Aether didn’t believe his eyes, not when he saw the person he promised to be with forever, dead, stabbed so many times and blood marking most of your skin. It was horrifying, some of it wasn’t even a knife, it looked like an axe or something. At the trial, he snapped. He’d already been seperated from his sister, and now this? You were the one person he told everything to. And now you were dead? Aether was beyond pissed. He normally was sweet and pretty chill, but that was gone. All the frustration he had, was taken out on the killer. If it wasn’t for the fact he knew you’d be upset wherever you were, Aether probably would’ve killed them. He also had to find Lumine, and couldn’t do that while dead.

You are the blackened

He had one question. “Why?” He wasn’t mad, or upset, he just wanted to know. And when you quietly confessed it was so he could see his sister again? He cried. He held you close. He didn’t let you go. Not as the votes were cast, not as it was confirmed you were the blackened. He couldn’t be mad at you, after you’d given up your life so he could leave you guilt free? Maybe..there was a way he could save you. He didn’t have time to debate, as you were ripped straight from him. He made a promise if he could, he would try to save you.

Your Execution.

A fight. That was what you had to. Survive the swarms and swarms of enemies. Aether rushed in quickly, not giving anybody time to protest. You both fought, back to back. But it grew tiring, very tiring. Eventually, you were stabbed, and it pierced deep. You dropped down, sobbing out for him, and he froze up. This caused him to be also hit down. The blade was ripped from your back, and he reached his hand out, just to comfort you. He knew this was it, your and his death would be for nothing. Just as he was about to grab your hand, one of the bots stepped on it, shattering the bone. At the same time he grasped his own hand, you were brutally stabbed multiple times in front of him. He sobbed, before being killed off with blunt force to the head. He knew Lumine wouldn’t find out. They’d been seperated again, and she was in another world entirely.

Xiao, The Ultimate Adeptus

Your body is found

You and him weren’t close, per se. But still found comfort in the other’s presence. You and him had this sort of thing where you would watch out for each other. He, however, kept more of a constant gaze on you. Xiao never took his duty to protect you lightly. He slipped up once. You called his name just a second too late. He found the killer fast, luckily. They were luckily he didn’t kill them right there. He was...angry. At himself. Not at you. He made the mistake, he wasn’t watching you.

You’re the blackened.

Forgiven. Immediately. You apologised and all he did was...hold you? He apologised in return, and confessed the feelings harbouring in his heart. You blinked at him, shocked. But you reciprocated the feelings, and told him so. He felt regret he hadn’t said it sooner. Maybe then...but he didn’t have to reconsider his foolish decision as you were dragged down the hall.

Your Execution..?

Run. Thats all you could do. You ran and ran while the monokuma bots chased you. It also felt like you were running out of air. You wanted to survive...and knew what you had to. You called out Xiao’s name, just soft enough. And he had to. He appeared by you and fought to your defence. The two of you ran, and ran more. Amd fought too. It seemed like the exit was in sight. And it was, but it was closing fast and..only one of you would make it. Xiao knew what he had to do, and sped up, shoving you through the exit...and he followed. You were...free. It was surprising and you gasped for oxygen, clinging to him. It surprised both of you, neither of you thinking you’d make it.

Zhongli, The Ultimate Storyteller

Your body is found

Close. You were close from the day you came here. Many nights were spent in each other’s arms, him telling tales upon tales. You’d listen with interest. But that’s the fond memories he looked back upon. Now, he was alone. Without your constant questions, and curiosity. Without your hopeful reminder that you’ll both make it out. All that was left was this trial room, and your to be found killer.

You’re the blackened

Forgiveness, again. He pulled you into the safety of his arms as your confession to the others spilled out. You admitted it was selfish, and you just wanted him and yourself to be free. They weren’t happy, but understood. That’s all most of them wanted, anyway. Zhongli could feel your pulse begin to race, and slowly whispered one of your favourite stories. It calmed you slowly, and you were ready to accept what faced you.

Your Execution

The drag and then being locked to a pole? Painful, much? He wanted to avert his gaze. But you would expirience that, and it would be just rude of him to ignore you. He felt sick watching the Execution happen. Books flew at you from angles and at rapid paces. You sobbed out for help, but nobody could do anything. It was a cruel reality, but...maybe there was a chance? He thought, as your battered body dropped down from the pole...and you moved. It sounded like...like warmth. Safety...You heard him call for you...You tried moving to the sound, and just as you felt you could reach it, your skull was bashed in the final time. He only stared. He was...he couldn’t take it. The pain was overwhelming..He wished he could just take you into his arms and say everything is fine but...it wasn’t. And it never will be.

Xingqiu, The Ultimate Writer

Your body is found

A prank. That’s all it was meant to be, just a harmless little joke. Nothing to hurt you, let alone kill you. Just a simple water bucket prank. But he had no idea you already were heavily injured. And just as he noticed, it was too late. He dealt the blow. He was the blackened. He killed the love of his life, the one person who consistently tolerated his pranks and teases. Xingqiu accepted his fate, with no struggle.

You are the blackened

Denial. Another one in denial. He considered this just like one his books he read lately. You would tell him that everything was a prank, you weren’t the killer. But when everyone called the vote, and it was confirmed. He yelled at you. He was upset, at...everyone, himself included. Everyone..except you. He wanted to tell you, that he was sorry. That he did forgive you. But he couldn’t, as the chain locked around your neck.

Your Execution

Chained down to a chair, and a paper was slammed down in front of you, with a pen. You were confused, but got the hint. You wrote and wrote, which had you distracted from the area slowly flooding. You slowly started to suffocate in the water, but it didn’t bother you. You felt like it wasn’t even happening. Xingqiu started yelling, begging you to try and survive. You couldn’t hear him, only the sound of your own thoughts. And eventually, your body gave out.

Scaramouche, The Ultimate Debater

Your body is found

From the beginning, you had made an agreement. You would watch out for each other in trials, backing the other up, always an alibi. You considered him a friend, and told him so. You did consider him more, but kept that under wraps. But he never reciprocated..at least you thought he didn’t. Scaramouche did feel the same, but thought he’d have time to tell you. He believed you would be there the next day, the day he would tell you. Tomorrow. He didn’t want there to be a chance you didn’t feel the same, but had considered it, because it would be better than you never knowing. He knocked on your dorm, expecting you to answer at the call of your name, but you didn’t...And he grew annoyed, assuming you were sleeping in. He sighed under his breath, before opening the door, and being met with the sight he never wanted to see. Your bloodied body, clutching a letter to your bleeding chest. You were long gone. He swiftly walked over, trying to ignore the tears rising to his eyes and grabbed the letter, hoping to find some clue as to who your killer was. But as he read through it, his eyes widened. It was a confession. To him. In your writing, that he completely recognised. And he felt regret. He hadn’t even told you that he cared about you. As far as you were aware, you were just a toy to him. Maybe at first, yes, but not as of late. During the trial, he was anything but calm, snapping if anybody dared to speak ill of you. When the blackened was found, they were screamed and swore at. Insults hurled second by second. They likely were terrified of him. And when they were executed, he laughed. If it was possible, people feared him more. And tried to avoid him at all possible costs.

You’re the blackened

Keeps defending you, even when it was a lie. When the votes were cast, and you were still found out, he started yelling. For a moment, others assumed he was an accomplice, but you and Monokuma denied that fact. He was still in denial, hardly able to accept the fate that was in front of his eyes. He asks you why? Why couldn’t you just tell him to do it? It’s rare to see him on the verge of tears, but his pride is in shambles. You gave a laugh, with a sorry before fate dragged you to your doom.

Your Execution

It was some kind of...trap. You were just stuck there. The contraption slowly brought you to your doom, or what you assumed to be. With some careful consideration, you managed to slip from it, avoiding the fate planned. Nobody knew this, and assumed you died when it was stopped. Scaramouche was not the one to find you, it was somebody else. They quickly brought you to him, and he hugged you, tightly. He was shaking, and yelling at the same time. He was just glad you were alive, that’s all that mattered to him. You both managed to escale from there, possibly with others.

Well, hope that wasn’t too OOC. Sorry for the gruesome imagines <3 Another angst fic is coming soon! Prepare :)

#genshin impact x reader #danganronpa #DR #Aether #Albedo #Chongyun #Diluc #scaramouche x reader #Xingqiu #zhongli #murder #blood #gore #TW #Trigger Warning #TW: Suicidal Mentions

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sleep-i-ness · 4 years ago

Text

Love Game (James Potter x reader)

Summary: Remus has spilled the beans about you having a crush, and James is determined to find out who it is.

“So, Remus says you’re in love with someone.” Sirius came up behind you as you sat in the shady corner of the common room, reading quietly. You were out of the way, but still able to keep an eye on everything going on.

“Does he now?” You turned the page, finger tracing the words as you continued to read.

Sirius flipped a chair round, sitting down in front of you and tipping the top of your book down towards him. You finally glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Who is it?”

You gave him a confused look. “Why would I tell you?”

“Because you told Remus?” Sirius stated, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

“I told Remus because he asked me out just so he’d have a date for Hogsmeade, and I felt bad for not being able to accept.” You returned your gaze to your book, trying to signal that this conversation was over.

“So, what you’re telling me is that I need to ask you out?” Sirius grinned at you and you shook your head, knowing exactly what that smile meant. You’d seen that exact smile 5 minutes before your best dress had been covered in mud, aged 5. And then again before you got caught playing the Muggle sport ‘football’ at age 12. And yet again before you went swimming in the canal and your brothers yelled at you for a solid two hours at age 16. Nothing ever good came of that smile. “Y/N Prewett, would you do me the pleasure of going on a date with me?”

“Well that’s not very romantic. No.” You shook your head, trying to concentrate on the words on the page in front of you. You had reread this line at least 5 times and it still wasn’t making sense.

Sirius sniffled, faking tears, and you glanced up at him, giving him an unimpressed frown. “Why not?”

“Because I’m in love with someone else,” you sighed, feeling a very uncomfortable sense of deja-vu.

“Who is it? Who could this man be, that has stolen your affections away from me?” Anyone who said Sirius Black was a serious bore should see him now; he was being a right dramatic pain in your arse.

“Not telling you,” you replied in a sing-song voice. He snatched your book away and you scowled. “Give it back.”

“Not until you tell me.”

“Don’t be an arse Sirius.”

He gave you a look.

“It is so bloody obvious!” You threw your hands up in the air. “If Remus, Marlene, and Lily were all able to guess, so should you.”

Sirius thought for a second, his eyes lighting up as he finished scanning around the room. “No fucking way. How did I never notice?”

“You’re oblivious.”

“It’s James, right?” He grinned, making eye contact with someone behind you and you hushed him furiously.

“What’s me?”

You froze, sending Sirius a sharp glare. Turning around slowly, you smiled up at him as you shook your head and rolled your eyes. “My least favourite Marauder, apparently. But don’t worry, Sirius has definitely filled that spot because he’s being a right pain in my arse.”

You snatched your book back from him and settled down into your chair, focused on returning to your reading. You just wanted to finish it, for God’s sake. You only had a few more pages left and so many other books to get started on.

James stared at the two of you a moment longer, suspicion brewing in his eyes, before he lowered himself into the chair next to you. You assumed he was going to drop the subject. “So, Remus told us about someone you’ve got your eye on.”

You slammed the book on the table. “Has Remus gone round telling everyone?”

“Probably, it’s Remus,” Sirius sniggered at your exasperated expression; you’d told him to keep his mouth shut but you really should have known better. Remus had never been good at keeping secrets from his family; he always managed to blurt them out, accidentally or not.

“So are you also in love with a Hufflepuff?” James crossed his legs, the silky fabric of his trousers tensing around his thighs and your gaze flickered downwards unwillingly. You blinked, quickly looking away, as a soft flush crept up the back of your neck. Sirius grinned at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and you rolled your eyes at him. The teasing was going to be incessant. Remus had already started making snide comments.

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer, and you sighed. “No, surprisingly the only thing Marlene and I don’t share is our taste in men.”

Sirius laughed again and you pulled a face. If he continued being so obvious, James was sure to guess he knew.

“Does Sirius know who it is?” And there it was. The surprise was evident in his tone, his voice tinged with barely audible hurt, and guilt shot through you. Sure, if the man in question had been anyone other than him, he would have been one of the first to know. But you couldn’t afford to affect whatever friendship you had with your silly feelings.

You nodded, sending Sirius a poisonous glare, and placing your hands flat on the table. “Sirius guessed. And I’d say it was pure luck, judging by the way he stumbled on the name.”

“So if I guess, you’ll tell me whether I’m right.” James steepled his fingers together, eyes sparking, and your own widened. If there was one thing you knew and always abided by, it was to never challenge James to a game. Although his competitive nature translated well into his work, you had seen him and Sirius fighting to win, and learnt.

But it would be unfair in his eyes if he didn’t get a shot. You could always lie if he ever guessed correctly. “…Fine.”

He grinned; teeth almost sharklike. This was a bad idea. His eyes darted around the room, appraising every guy slowly before stopping on a pair playing Wizard’s Chess. You stifled a laugh as one got splattered with slime, wiping it off his face with a grimace. “Diggle.”

You shook your head, wrinkling your nose. Diggle was in the year below but only a couple months younger than you; you weren’t into boys who still had the mental maturity to find fart jokes funny. James glanced at Sirius who shrugged in response, at least he wasn’t going to give it away.

“Is it someone close to me?” James asked, fiddling with his watch as he watched for your reaction.

You hesitated, looking to the side as you thought of how best to answer. “I don’t think I said I’d answer your questions.”

He gave you a long hard stare and you met him with equal determination. You weren’t prepared to let yourself be thoroughly embarrassed that easily. James glanced away, slender fingers tapping against the table and your mouth was suddenly dry.

“Podmore.”

“No, however, I need to go talk to Marlene,” you hesitated, fumbling with your excuse. “About my Alchemy essay, so I will see you around.”

You brushed down your skirt, tucking your book under one arm as you waved them goodbye. James looked as if he were about to say something before he hesitated and thought better of it, resorting to a nod instead. Sirius waved you a cheery goodbye, the most evil twinkle dwelling in his eyes, and you returned him a bitter smile.

You managed to avoid James for the rest of the day, darting round corners and forcing Marlene to sit in between the two of you in any shared lessons. But you knew you couldn’t keep this up for long; Lily and Mary had started to give you weird looks.

“Shingleton.” James murmured as he passed you on the way out of Potions, and you shook your head with a grin. At least he was no closer, he was suggesting people from completely the wrong House.

The next time you saw him was dinner, a vacant space left beside him. You narrowed your eyes as he patted it cheerily, waving you over. On the other side of it, a seat up from where he usually sat, was Remus and you shot him a glare, huffing out a breath. Trudging over to James’ side, you slid onto the seat, flinching as your leg brushed against his.

“Toots.”

You scoffed. Of course he didn’t want to just spend time in your wonderful company. “Nice to see you too, James.”

“Come on, please give me a hint.” He sent you a pleading look, eyes big and round, and you couldn’t help but feel a little tempted to tell him. But again, you had enough self-preservation instincts to realise that immediate rejection was not what you were after.

You turned to Remus, giving him a wry smile. “Hello Remus. How kind of you to save me a seat.”

Sirius snorted from his seat across the table, turning it into a cough as you scowled at him.

“You’re welcome. Besides, I’m really enjoying watching James trying to guess,” you raised an eyebrow, “and you squirming.”

There it was. You hated them all; this was absolute torture. You could have, in theory, not sat with them, but you knew James would have made enough of a scene to fully embarrass you either way. Lily, Mary, and Marlene were at the end of the table, where you would usually be, and you sent them longing looks. If only.

Marlene caught your eye and smirked, glancing suggestively between you and James as she wiggled your eyebrows. For Merlin’s sake, of course she was in on this ridiculous match-making plan too.

You sighed. “Remus, I thought when I told you about my crush, you’d keep your mouth shut.”

“They were ragging on me about not ever having a date for Hogsmeade, and apparently we look like we’re dating already so I should ask you out. I told them I already had and that you’d said no because you like someone else,” Remus rattled off what had happened, and you rolled your eyes. Stupid boys and their stupid pride.

“You could’ve just said that I wasn’t interested. And left it that.” You knew why he hadn’t, that was obvious, but it still infuriated you. You’d said it in confidence, feeling a little guilty, but knowing that you were doing the right thing by not leading him on. Now you strongly regretted it.

“Stebbins?” James interjected, having been barely paying attention to the conversation. He’d been too busy scoping out the room for potential crushes, dismissing them for being too ugly, not good enough for you, too dim, too dull, and soon made his way around the room without finding anyone that fit his criteria. So he had to go back round and lower his standards for who you might like, although they clearly weren’t worthy. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much that you liked someone who he thought was miles below your league.

“Nope.” You barely spared him a look, deep in conversation with Remus. For some reason that stung.

The plates in front of you filled with food, but even the delicious meal couldn’t distract you from the bitter mood you’d settled into. You pinched roast chicken between the tongs, ladled peas onto your plate and settled on baby potatoes to make up the rest of your meal. It looked deceptively bland, a white hunk of meat and boring vegetables but you could barely stomach this.

“Gravy?” Sirius offered you the spoon and you shook your head, prodding at your plate. James looked at you weirdly, but you brushed it off as you used the food as an excuse not to talk.

You decided to skip dessert, main course being sufficient to sustain you for the rest of the evening, and headed back to the Common Room. Slughorn had set you yet another essay, this time on the properties of Angel’s Trumpet Draught, so you’d already taken out a couple of the thick tomes in the library that might contain information. The rest you hoped was in your class textbook; you really couldn’t be bothered to trawl through book after book to find enough information to fill the required space.

You set yourself up quite nicely in the corner of the Room, books spread out around you and taking up the whole table. You hoped that was enough of a hint to leave you alone. To add to that, you had your back to the room so that you really looked unapproachable.

Remus was first back from dinner, making a beeline for you as soon as he stepped through the portrait hole. “I’m sorry about dinner.”

You groaned, shaking your head. “It was awful, it was so unbelievably awkward.”

“Yeah, I could tell.” Remus, not taking the hint from your piles of work, settled into the seat next to you. He grimaced. “James is so oblivious.”

Laughing, you nodded in agreement, quickly scribbling out notes on a relevant paragraph before returning your focus to Remus. “Tell me about it. James was just listing off all of these names and I can’t believe he can’t see that he’s the one I like.”

Remus’ eyes darted to something behind you, and you turned round, expecting to see Sirius pulling a face, or something of that kind. He was insufferable in that way. Instead, your heart dropped.

James stared at you, mouth dropped open, making it abundantly clear he’d heard your conversation. Oh Merlin. You swallowed, feeling your eyes prick and heat rise up the back of your neck.

“I’m going to my dorm.” You swept everything off the table into your arms, ignoring how pages bent and parchment crumpled. Side-stepping James neatly, you ducked your head as you passed Sirius and Peter, and headed up to your room. That was mortifying. You couldn’t ever show your face again.

You heard James shout behind you, but you just picked up the pace. You were not going to get rejected in front of your entire House. His shouts grew louder as he caught up with you, but you hopped on the stairs before him, breathing a sigh of relief. As a boy, he wouldn’t be able to reach you; the stairs were charmed to make sure he couldn’t go up them.

Your feet slipped from underneath you. But of course he knew a way around that.

You slid down on your stomach, papers and quills spilling from your grasp. Tumbling into the grasp of two broad arms, you took a moment to reorient yourself before quickly breaking free. James had been the one to catch you and he now helped you up, stacking your sheets untidily.

“Y/N, please don’t run now.”

You blinked, breathing harshly as you pursed your lips. You nodded, feeling eyes on you from all around.

“Go on, scram.” Sirius yelled at the onlookers, who were mostly from younger years, and even if they weren’t, they were scared enough of the Marauders and their tricks to obey instantly.

James grabbed your hands, waiting for everyone to leave, as he rubbed a calloused thumb over your skin. “I heard what you said.”

You smiled waterily, breathing out a laugh. “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, James, you don’t-”

“Wait,” he interrupted. “Let me talk first. I like you too so will you go on a date to Hogsmeade with me this Saturday?”

“You like me too?”

James almost chuckled at your gobsmacked expression, before realising that probably wasn’t the right response. “Yes, you fool. Have done since about fifth year, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh,” you breathed, speechless. Your lips moved soundlessly as you tried to think of what to say, mind blank with surprise.

James brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, hand moving down to cup your cheek. “The only thing I want to know is if you’ll go on a date with me to Hogsmeade.”

“Yes,” you grinned. “Of course!”

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nincompoopydoo · 3 years ago

Text

DEBRIS AND MISERY

CURIOUS MINDS THINK ALIKE ; PART 5 / ?

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 3.1k SUMMARY: Through guessing games and walking on eggshells, it’s you and Loki that dance the strange choreography of two curious minds trying to figure out the other. A/N: Slow moving chapter! If any of you speak Norwegian and know that sentence is wrong, please tell me! I took a risk, not sure if it's worth it. Anyways, I promise there’s more stuff coming in the next chapters. Tell me anything about this chapter, what you love, what you hate. Enjoy xo gif from this gifset by@marvelheroes WARNINGS: Swearing? More paperwork. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERPOST ; MASTERLIST

The narration of Miss Minutes accompanying the grainy animated graphics of a training video on how, why, and when a branch of a timeline is reset seems to be the source of Loki’s absentmindedness. If he is typically referred to as outrageously and mostly unnecessarily communicative, it is his mind that beats his mouth—the tumult of his thoughts is loud and overwhelming like the people who amass at taverns every evening to drink themselves silly whilst singing jolly drinking songs until the wee hours of the morning. Except, his thoughts are far from jolly. He, mastermind of language and a silver-tongue, has no words of any language to describe the complexity of his mind with accuracy.

Kraftig regn som faller i en fossende elv.

Like heavy rain falling on a cascading river. Water from the sky on water streaming through the ground—thunderous raindrops from above against the river that strikes every rock of every winding turn.

Those were the words of his mother.

Maybe, that’s how his mind should be described.

It’s the mechanical creaks of spinning wheels against the polished floor that pulls him out of his thoughts and finds that he had been staring blankly at a page of men riding jet skis of a magazine he'd nipped from the stack of junk on Mobius’ desk for the last minute or hour. A second or a day? He isn’t sure.

Time works differently at the TVA.

“Hey Casey,” he hears you chime, the cart squeaks as it pulls to a halt. “Do you have a paperweight or something I could use?”

There’s a sound of rummaging as the clerk searches the drawers. Loki restrains the urge to look.

“Uh, yeah...Here.”

“Thanks.”

Probably an infinity stone.

The clerk then wheels by, pushing the evidence cart as he casts a cautious glance his way.

Right. He did threaten to gut him like a fish earlier on although the threat was not as deadly as he intended but proved to be surprisingly effective. Yet, Casey is probably the type to be afraid of his own shadow, he would comply with any sort of threat even if it isn't death.

Pathetic. But amusing.

The training video continues to play in the background, and Miss Minutes’ stupidly charming and cheery voice is starting to sound like gibberish to him. At this rate, it’s white noise to him—attention elsewhere but somewhat listening to a certain extent. He loves multi-tasking and isn’t afraid to admit he’s great at it though it likely plays a huge factor in contributing to the uproar of his brain. It’s why he doesn’t get any sleep for most nights.

There’s just...so much to think about.

And now, it’s filled with the reminder of how you met another version of him. Somewhere. Sometime. An inferior Loki, obviously.

Suddenly, the jet ski magazine becomes less interesting, his mind fleeting.

Discreetly, he spins in his swivel chair and sees you through inked writings and diagrams on the glass partition of your cubicle. Your coat’s discarded, and you have your sleeves rolled up, looking less formal, less tense than before. Yet, still as fierce with that constant scowl of your brows. He watches you bring your fingers to scratch the left side of your cheek and notices a vague resemblance of a fading scar.

He hadn’t seen that before.

The glowing orange hue of the soul stone sits idly on top of a stack of papers beside you.

Loki makes some sort of contemptuous noise in his mind at the sight.

The TVA is a strange place. The thought of a cosmic organization that overlooks all of the time doesn’t make it any less weird and neither do the uniforms—dull color combinations and collars that never seem to end. And the Time-Keepers, well, he isn’t sure what to make of that. Things are a little too straightforward, too simple for handling such a complex matter of the universe—Time. It doesn't make sense.

You spark his curiosity. You had a connection with him. Another Loki trusted you to a certain extent. He wonders what makes you so special, that Mobius was willing to try everything to convince you to help.

He also wonders what your name is.

The clearing of his throat comes off as a sudden and disruptive sound that resonates clearly through the somewhat silent environment of the office floor. A subtle way to gaining your attention although it's proving ineffective. You continue to flip through documents, scribbling notes on a notepad.

He wheels his chair closer to you. For a moment, he catches sight of a white mug amongst the mess. It says, 'Rocket scientist at work.' There’s no way a person as intimidating as you have that kind of mug.

He clears his throat once more.

Still nothing. It’s like he doesn't exist to you.

Then, he notes your vague attempt to fight down a growing smile.

Oh. Oh. You—

Hm.

He scooches closer and taps on the glass partition a little too aggressively.

“I know you can hear me.”

His tone comes out in a sing-song manner. Finally, your eyes turn up to meet his. They are different from when you first saw him emerged into the hallway. Less angry and shocked. Now, you just look unimpressed.

Loki somehow thinks it’s a great idea to charm his way to you.

A grin finds his way to his lips, curving widely with oozing allure.

Or so he thinks.

“Pardon me, but I believe we haven’t properly met and I didn’t catch your name earlier on.”

You don’t say anything, only blink in response.

Tough crowd.

Loki shifts in his seat.

“...What is your name?”

He articulates his words with care, and he doesn’t know why he finds it a need to tread lightly around you. Like with a touch, you will transform into a fiery beast from his childhood nightmares and eat him alive.

You and Mobius are polar opposites—personality-wise. It’s a wonder how the two of you get along.

Do you scare him? No. Definitely not.

Do you intimidate him? Perhaps. But, he will never admit it.

Maybe it’s the way you’re gazing at him with that constant, deafening deadpan look.

Then, you finally give him an answer.

“Agent.”

And with that, you're back to scribbling notes on a notepad.

Agent.

Loki scoffs silently to himself.

Well, that turned out to be completely pointless.

He turns his back to you, returning to scanning through Mobius' jet ski magazine within his grasp.

Loki doesn’t see how you’re now staring at the back of his figure, tapping your pen against the notepad absentmindedly.

Curious minds think alike.

You needed a change of scenery.

With all the noise of the muffling narration of the training videos from Mobius’ desk, you began to feel like you forgot how to do your job. The only job you were created for. The disturbance seems to be putting your brain into a frenzy and it’s preventing you from getting your head straight on report protocols. Trying to think of better words to describe the things you’ve seen on Sakaar that weren’t words that meant trash and didn’t end up sounding unintentionally sexual, is where you draw the line.

Times are hard for the variant turned analyst.

The archives are serene amid your solitude. Extensive tables hidden between shelves of identical-looking binders that expanded throughout the hundreds of floors of the building. The spot that overlooks the three looming statues of the Time-Keepers is your favorite. The occasional swish of a passing elevator calms your nerves from all the frustration and pressure ever since you were released from your arrest. You’re just happy to be somewhere familiar although it’s not home.

Although all distractions are gone, you manage to find new ones as you gaze at the glowing ‘357’ signage from across the building as you decide to let your thoughts run for just a little while. You feel like you’re looking through foggy glasses and your brain feels like it’s about to shut down any moment.

Dream away the pain, then.

Then, you hear a voice from afar. Two voices. It’s Mobius; you’ll recognize that quintessential Texan accent anywhere from the times he would rave about a new jet ski magazine he’d found on a mission...something along those lines.

Much to your chagrin, you also hear Loki with that irritatingly posh accent of his.

You should probably move somewhere else. Run and hide before you're being pulled even more into this mess because you know Mobius is trying to get you to spend as much time with the variant turned analyst to gain trust.

You’re still not sure how it’s helping with his case. Loki has better trust in Mobius than you as far as you’re concerned.

Before you could even gather the mess of your files, the two men you’ve been trying to escape are already by the desk you’re sitting at. You suddenly notice the stack of files on the other end of the desk, not remembering seeing the archivist putting that there.

Crap.

“Let me park ya at this desk and don’t be afraid to really lean into this work...”

You look like a deer caught in the headlights, signaling to Mobius that you really don’t want to share a desk with Loki. He continues to speak to him, ignoring your silent plea. Then, he gestures to the seat across from you.

There’s still time to leave.

Mobius addresses you with the stretch of his pointer finger.

“You, keep an eye on him. I’m gonna get a snack.”

Well, too late.

With a turn of a heel, you and Loki watch him walk away and pass neverending shelves of the archives. Once again, the two of you are left alone in the silence and the white noise of the TVA.

You meet each other's eyes at the same time, struck with the thought that you and he will probably be seeing each other a lot until the Loki variant is arrested. Plus, you’re tired of giving him the cold shoulder although you believe he deserves it.

This is a different Loki. The one who’s still power-hungry. The one who still wants to rule.

Time to start fresh.

You notice he now wears a jacket, a color somewhere between green, grey, and brown with a striking image of the TVA’s official badge above his chest. The lapels of his jacket jut out in an attempt to replicate his sense of pride and confidence.

He must have been on a trip with Mobius to the Renaissance Faire in Wisconsin, 1985. Oh, how you would kill to tag along. Everyone who knows you knows about your obsession with Earth’s music pop culture, specifically the 1980s. It explains the cassettes you have lying around. Your apartment has more of it.

Unfortunately, you're grounded. That's reality.

Thus, you decide that Loki deserves a second chance because he’s also somehow looking at you for some kind of approval. You’re starting to wonder if this is the same Loki that was tapping aggressively on your cubicle earlier on.

With an open palm, you gesture to the empty seat surrounded by stacks of binders and folders. It's the first time he has experienced some kind of acknowledgment of his presence that you weren’t ranting or screaming about. Oddly calm. Oddly inviting. Momentarily, he shifts in his stance, eyes darting between a fading figure of Mobius rounding the corner and to the seat, across from you.

The air is tense. However, still breathable.

Loki slides into the seat, legs shifting under the desk as it brushes against your by accident. You shoot him a pointed look, and he responds with a coy expression, blinking at you innocently. It’s mischievous.

Classic Loki.

You turn back to your case file, ignoring the way his gaze seems to burn holes into the side of your face for a fleeting moment before flipping a binder open from the stack to his left.

You snore when you sleep.

Loki wouldn’t describe it as a snore; it's more of a wheeze. Soft and subtle but it’s there, cutting through the ambiance of the archives, drifting and resonating in his ears. Through turning pages, uttering words to himself for his amusement, and having an irritating lady shush him for that, he realized how it became a lot quieter. The grazing sound of pen furiously scribbling words onto the yellow notepad has stopped.

Then, he hears it. Your pathetic snores. Your cheek is unceremoniously pressed against the back of your hand while the other holds the orange pen that’s still pinned down on the paper, mid-scrawl. The tip of the ballpoint pen sits idly, halfway through the curved stroke of the last letter of the word, ‘debris.’ He cranes his neck, face tilting in an attempt to read the chicken scratchings of your handwriting.

0132: L1190 hauls me through the time door and I miserably land on Sakaar, the planet of wastelands and debris.

You are quite...miserable. In a comical way. And he knows how much you hated your time on Sakaar—Mobius warned him of your apparent irritation in reminiscent of being stranded and then having to resume paperwork immediately. He wonders if he, too, is the reason for another boiling rage.

Apparently, you were pardoned on behalf of not only Mobius but the Time-Keepers as well.

You, an agent, are recognized by the holy and almighty Time-Keepers.

You, an agent, who sleeps with your mouth agape.

The statues of the TVA’s creators loom over him like they’re watching his every step. Every movement. Every lingering thought. Right now, he has the urge to uncover, perhaps deduce, the holes within this whole mess. In a carefully calculated and discrete movement, he reaches to prod you on the forearm. You don’t move.

He prods you again.

You still don’t move.

Now, Loki is trying to chat up the archivist who watches him through narrowed eyes, glasses framing the austere and rigid structure of her face, in favor of files that turn out to be classified.

Classified, classified, classified. Only able to gain access to his own file.

His journey from the desk proved to be useless and unproductive although the much-needed stretch somehow made it a little worthwhile.

When he returns, you're surprisingly still asleep, brow twitching and lips still parted.

Aren’t you supposed to be keeping an eye on him?

The pen you held has now left your grasp, rolled over to his stack of binders. He notices the words inscribed on it, ‘Mars is there, waiting to be reached.'

Through your fury and chaos, he knows there’s a part of you that feels, a part of you that loves. And you love everything about the Midgardians’ space program. It's shown in the way you cling to collected memorabilia.

There are dark circles that adorn your shut eyes, barely hidden under your lashes. You’re exhausted, fractured.

Loki is having a difficult time trying to suppress how he likes the way the frizz of your hair glows against the glowing table lamps from the desk behind you. You’re raw, flaws presented on a silver platter for everyone to see. Maybe, that’s the reason why you entice him the way you do.

He’s staring. Right. Back to work.

Loki returns to running through neverending case files, engrossed in the pixelated monochrome images that accompany the monospace typeface of endless reports.

Then, he sees it.

‘Destruction of Asgard’ in big, bold, and red letters. It glares at him sharply, images of his once divine home of Asgard, crumbling at the feet of Surtur. Buildings, people, engulfed in the flames of the fire demon. The prophecy of the end, Ragnarok—it was meant to be.

His home, it still was. Although an untrue Asgardian.

He knows how it ends. He knows he dies. He wishes his true self, the one on the Sacred Timeline, could have done more.

He doesn’t realize the forming tears that linger. He doesn’t realize that in the sense of premonition, you’ve awakened. He doesn’t realize that even with sleepy eyes, you notice the grief that glints in his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

With three words, you’ve struck him with those eyes that seemed all-knowing. You see through the facade he has created, sealing the true nature of what is truly a child that is afraid of his destiny and to lose all he had ever known. His mother, father, and brother. His people. You see through it all.

You know that face. You’d seen it on Sakaar when he sat at the doorstep of your makeshift home, watching the splintered moon drift through the star-lit sky. You’d seen it in yourself through the dusty reflection of the screen of the tempad.

He longs for home. He longs for family.

For a moment, Loki sees Frigga in your eyes.

Then, his world shifts, hauling him back to reality. It’s you who’s across his way, not his mother. Loki blinks, partly to get his head straight with the excuse to blink away the sting in his eye. He shifts in his seat, rolling his neck and squares his shoulders.

“Yes. I’m alright. It’s just...”

Trailing off, he clears his throat. You follow his gaze and from your spot, you catch sight of those deafening crimson letters. Maybe, it was the spur of the moment. You blame your drowsy state, but there’s a growing warmth that spreads across your chest from the pit of your stomach. It’s subtle, a spark, but evident. Before you know it, you’re uttering words that leave your lips faster than your brain could perceive.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t know when was the last time you said those words and meant it. Loki doesn’t know when was the last time he’d ever heard those words addressed to him, spoken from the lips of a stranger. Until now.

You mean it. He sees it in the curve of your brows.

Loki swallows, nodding curtly. For the first time, he has nothing to say. And as quickly as the moment comes, he brushes it off and so do you. Whatever is reminiscent of a residing unknown feeling, bubbling within, has disappeared.

He sees your hand reach for the pen and for a while, he thinks you’re about to reach for his arm.

But no, you’re back to scrawling notes on the paper and he’s back to studying useless documents.

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall back into your normal antics as you find yourself chasing after Loki, who abruptly left the desk with wide eyes.

Curious minds think alike. Mostly.

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#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson x you #loki imagine #loki laufeyson imagine #loki series #sylvie #mobius x reader

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