#orpheus/reader

[des-no9]

Orpheus/Reader

5k; Explicit; AFAB reader

You're Prince Orpheus' saviour. And tonight, he's going to thank you.

Written especially for @snoretash 😘 but hope yous all enjoy too 💜

[corruptedroses]

hi, i saw reqs were open!

nsfw novelist hcs with a fem reader 👀

⌞ask box open⌝ | ⌞commissions open⌝ | ⌞ko-fi?⌝ | ⌞Patreon coming soon⌝

— “A little research goes a long way, darling ❤„

Fandom — Identity V

Featuring — Orpheus / The Novelist

Content Warnings — AFAB reader [no pronouns], mentions of scratching, mentions of biting, temperature play, a suggestion of Nightmare joining in on the fun.

Author's Note — at the time of writing this we still do not know Orpheus' real name [as the name Orpheus has ben confirmed to be his pen name], in the near future I may end up coming back to fix this to include his real name but for now, he shall just be Orpheus.

As the title of this post suggests, Orpheus isn't a stranger when it comes to the concept of intimacy or topics regarding sexual intercourse. While this man may be a bit frigid himself, he certainly wouldn't deprive himself of the chance to learn new things. As a writer, research is a vital role of writing, and thus research means divulging in desires that would make even the devil himself sweat in pure sin.

While he leans on the vanilla side of the spectrum, he isn't afraid to experiment on his beloved or himself; while scenes like this don't usually appear in his books given that he is an author specialising in the detective genre, you have noticed that if he does something like tying you up, it usually ends up in the next book. It's weird but oddly enchanting. His personal favourite of these scenarios has had to be when he had watched your skin pebble as he dragged an ice cube across your exposed bosom. He really did like seeing you tremble

Being a bit of a frigid person, you will have to guide him at first; use him how you see fit, guide his hands, his legs, his arms to hold you tightly, squeeze you, embrace you, allow him to absorb the scent of your skin and the taste of your sweat into his brain to the point that he cannot forget it. He will not forget it. As a fast learner, one that tends to save every little detail to his memory, it wouldn't be too shocking that he ends up finding himself knowing your body like the back of his hand by the fifth time you fuck.

Talking about his fingers, he's got some long ones, he likes to make you sit in his lap, watching your face as he touches you ever so slowly, gentle circles, beautiful melodies, he's a man that likes to watch his pieces come together [and apart] with his fingers. From his years of typewriter and pen, he has callouses that also provide some nice texture. He wants to make you drip all over his thigh whether you like it or not.

He really, really likes to see evidence on each other's bodies that you two have danced the tango only meant for the most desperate of people, scratch his back, bite his skin, and he will return the favour in a way that no other man would do. He wants to leave evidence that he was there, for you to remember how he felt against your skin even long after the bruises and scratch marks have faded, he wants to remember how your heels felt digging into the small of his back as he made you sing broken syllables of his name. His true name.

When he begins to run out of ideas on how to best keep you on your toes, do not be surprised when certain books of a certain genre start appearing in his home; it's all important research to him.

There are certain nights, however, that he tends to forget, ones where his notes have already been done and you lay sound asleep. Those are the nights that make Orpheus think that he must've given into his most basic of instincts, the yearnings of the living man. As long as his notes are presented nicely and well in case of future projects, he best not dwell on them for too long.

[kupidachillea]

What Yandere I think Ancient Greek mythology boys would be.

TW⚠️ General Yandere behaviour, biting, manipulative behaviour, clingy behaviour…mentions of self harm (not reader). Read at your own risk⚠️

Achilles:

🏺- I feel like if Achilles was a yandere he’d be more akin to the typical yandere. Jealous, possessive…almost like a land mine

🏺- He��s protective of you and wants your attention…only your attention. I think that speaks for itself about how this relationship would go.

🏺- He’s not overly touchy, but in public.,he has this weird thing about ‘laying claim’ to what’s his and making everyone know it..even if it embarrasses you…he’ll caress you thigh openly in public among other…things… he also tends to squeeze you into his chest and he has a thing for biting- and boy does it hurt..if you don’t stop him at times..you’ll be bleeding by the end of it

🏺- If you’re at home- he wants you in his arms. You’re sitting on the sofa? He’ll put you in his lap. You’re lying in bed? He’ll jump on top of you. And he’s heavy- so good luck getting him off of you.

🏺- despite his concerning behaviour..he truly does care about you..in his mind..you’re the only one that matters. He wants you to be with him for as long as possible..and don’t even think about trying to break up with him..he’ll find you.

Patroclus:

🌿- Patroclus would be one of those yanderes that aren’t openly a yandere..he’s more docile and less explosive. Though- he still has those red flags.

🌿- He’s a manipulator. Especially if you’re a sensitive and emotional individual- he’ll exploit that. Gaslighting you at times and telling you “I know what’s best for you, darling”. Yeah..not really the best part of this relationship.

🌿- He’s more touchy than Achilles. He loves to have his face nuzzled into your neck whenever he can..breathing in your scent as he holds you in his arms. Letting out a content sigh as he kisses your lips tenderly..but don’t let that tenderness fool you..he’s still got a few screws loose.

🌿- He’s the type of yandere to act calm whenever someone is trying to hit on you in public..usually it’s when you’re not around is when he finds that person and either beats them half to death or worse..he use to be a medic and warrior..he knows more than one way to put people through pain. Though It’d have to be very bad for him to immediately clock to that mode.

🌿- He knows you’ll never leave him..how pathetic of you to try.,you keep running back to his arms anyway even if you do. He’ll break you as many times as he needs to have you in his arms..he’s patient.. and once you do come back..either in tears for just looking like a sad puppy..he’ll pamper you and stroke your hair as he kisses you lips and whispers how much he loves you.

Perseus:

🛡️- This is a bit tricky..He’s like…an enthusiastic yandere..that’s how I describe it. He has limits on how far he’ll go..but that doesn’t mean he won’t do certain things.

🛡️- He’s not explosive like Achilles and he’s not a big manipulator like Patroclus. He’s a bit chill. He’s the one that is similar to being docile but at the same time his yandere tendencies will seep out.

🛡️- He actually warns you what will happen if you do A, B, and C. Because he doesn’t want to hurt you in any way..he just wants to have a loving relationship with you without any casualties. Occasionally he’ll get mad..but he’ll never take it out on you..never. Though..a few chains here and there can’t hurt..right?

🛡️- He loves to be with you..he’ll check on you at work.. on the street at home..any time really. He’s just trying to look out for you and makes his hit list anyway

🛡️- So far you’ve never had a problem with him..he’s not very overbearing..he’s smart in how he does things..you’ll never know what he does when you’re asleep..you’ve never considered leaving him..and he’d like to keep it that way..he wants to shower you with words of praise and devotion,

Orpheus:

🎼- Orpheus is what I’d call a clingy yandere. When he first met you..it took him awhile to fall for you but when he did and you both got together it was a done deal for him.

🎼- He’s so clingy..he doesn’t like to be anywhere without some physical touch involved. After losing his first love- he won’t lose you. He’ll never lose you..he’ll make sure of it.

🎼- He peppers your face with kisses in public that it makes even married couples jealous..dear lord. His words are sweet and filled with honey.

🎼- Sometimes he wishes he had the power to hypnotise you with his voice..so he could make sure that you’d stay with him forever..but I guess locking you inside will have to do..trapping you under his body as he cuddles you will have to be enough.. chaining you to the bed as you both sleep together is what he has to settle for…such effort.

🎼- Once when you tried to leave him, he literally got down on his knees and begged you to the point of tears to not leave him..he said how he couldn’t live without out you and how he’ll harm himself if you do leave him…you fell for his trap and stayed with him..having pity on this poor man. Perfect..he likes it when you break and ignore your better judgement for him.

[orpheusluvr]

They catch a glimpse of you

NSFW WARNING

This is basically just some scenarios with various idv male characters reacting to seeing you either undressed or seeing a slight part of you (female reader btw)

But the reader (you) actually has a huge crush on these characters and you realise that this is a perfect way to get closer to them (totally not writing this in my perspective 😃)

Anyways, enjoy!!!

Characters included: Luca, Norton, Orpheus and Frederick

-

Luca:

You stared at the large red wine stain on your favourite dress and sighed. Even though poor Demi continuously apologised for being clumsy and accidentally spilling it on you, it made you slightly annoyed considering that you decided to wear this dress especially for today.

You carefully took it off and placed it in the laundry basket to be washed later. As you looked down, your eyes widened as you saw that the wine had stained your skin too. The material must’ve been too thin and the wine went through it.

Time for a bath then, it seems.

Just as you were about to remove your bra, you heard a knock on your door.

“Y/N? Are you in there?”

It was Luca.

You nervously bit your lip, feeling his presence outside behind the door. What would happen if you let him in while you were in this state?

“Y/N?! Say something if you’re there!” Luca called out.

“I’m here!” You said.

You felt a blush form on your face.

“You can come in.”

You immediately heard the sound of the door opening.

“Phew, you had me wor-”

Luca was immediately cut off after looking at you. His eyes scanned your body, admiring every part of it.

“Need help with getting rid of that stain?” He said, pointing to your chest.

You heart was pounding.

“That would be really helpful.” You smiled.

Luca smirked.

“Alright, I’ll take care of it. But I’m expecting a reward afterwards.” He said, carrying you into the bathroom.

Norton:

“Hey Norton, what are you up to?” You said, entering the lounge.

“Hey Y/N! I was just relaxing.” He said.

You sat next to him, opening the book that you were carrying.

“What’s that?” Norton asked.

“It’s a really interesting book that I found hidden in the library. It has a lot of weird symbols and things in it.” You said.

Norton gave a laugh.

“You really do amuse me a lot.” He said.

“I’m being serious! Just look at how interesting it is!” You said, turning yourself to face him and showing him the page that you were on.

But Norton wasn’t paying attention to the book at all. Because his eyes suddenly drifted off somewhere else.

Your shirt was hanging loosely from your chest, showing a large amount of cleavage. As you moved in the seat, your breasts would follow your movements, practically almost about to pop out from the shirt at any second.

Norton felt his dick twitch and gulped nervously.

“Norton? Are you alright?” You said, worryingly. You saw how his face had suddenly gone red and he was sweating. You placed the book down onto the table, then turned around to touch his forehead. He immediately let out a groan.

You were confused and shocked at how he suddenly became “unwell”.

“Hold on, I’ll get you a glass of water.” You said, getting up. But Norton immediately grabbed your hand, making you sit on his lap.

“There’s no need…just stay like this…” he panted.

You then immediately realised why he was acting like this when you felt something between your legs.

Orpheus:

You knocked on the door to Orpheus’ bedroom.

“Come in.” You heard him say.

You slowly opened the door, then gently closed it behind you.

Orpheus was sitting on his desk, completing some paperwork. He looked up and gave you a smile, his face illuminated by the candle next to him.

“Ah, nice to see you Y/N. Why are you here at this hour?” He said.

“I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d give you some company since I know that you stay up late.” You said.

You just needed a random excuse to see him, since you and Orpheus barely had time to talk to each other.

Orpheus nodded.

“I see. Well, I guess you could help me with some of my work. I won’t force you though.” He said.

“I’d be happy to.” You said.

Orpheus nodded.

“Alright, sit here.” He said, motioning to the chair in front of him. His arm accidentally hit one of the papers on his desk and it flew all the way underneath his bed.

“I’ll get it.” You said.

You went on all fours and crawled underneath the bed.

What you didn’t realise was that Orpheus was checking you out, smiling to himself as he saw the shape of your ass from behind. However, as a gentleman, he managed to control his urges to do anything with you.

You got back up and walked over to him, placing the paper on the desk.

“Thank you, but I think I shall resume my work later on. I have something else to take care of.” He said, getting up.

“Do you need help with that too?” You said.

Orpheus looked at you with confusion.

“So, you knew I was looking at you?” He said.

You also looked at him in confusion.

“You were?”

You knew damn well that Orpheus did look at you from behind but you were just playing along that you had no idea. You had purposely arched your back for him when you were under his bed, and it seems like it worked like a charm. Because the next few hours were spent in his bedroom, behind closed doors.

Frederick:

“Absolutely magnificent piano skills. You seem to be getting much better.” Frederick said.

“Thank you. I have been practicing a lot.” You said, getting up from the seat.

“I could tell. Anyways, would you like to take a stroll in the garden with me? You do need a break, after all.” He said.

“Sure.” You nodded.

Shortly after, you and Frederick slowly walked around the garden, taking in the fresh breeze. But all of a sudden, the wind became extremely strong. Strong enough to blow the hem of your dress upwards, exposing your thighs.

Frederick immediately pushed the dress down for you. But it didn’t mean that he didn’t catch a glimpse of what was under it.

“Maybe we should go inside now.” He said.

He immediately realised that what he said sounded extremely wrong.

“Ahem, I mean. We should enter the manor and resume our duties.” He said, slightly embarrassed.

You gave a laugh.

“Frederick, you didn’t need to correct yourself from the first time.” You said.

He immediately felt himself tense up after hearing that.

“Pardon?” He said, his eyes glistening with slight lust.

“I’m saying…you should go inside…me.” You said, your voice filled with desire.

Frederick was almost weak in the knees after hearing you say that, especially with that tone.

He gently took your hand.

“Then let’s go. I’d like to hear you make some melodious sounds.”

[jointherebellion215]

Flowers

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader

Summary: You're living a perfectly content life on Geidi Prime with your husband. It's a shame your mind can't rest, sparked by glimpses of a life unknown. Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.

Word Count: 1.5k

TW: Dark!Feyd-Rautha, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, yandere!Feyd-Rautha, manipulation, gaslighting, like SO much gaslighting holy shit, descriptions of violence, abusive relationship, emotional abuse, isolation, tragedy, nonconsensual drug use, nonconsensual medical treatement, induced memory loss, amnesia, dubious consent, pregnancy, songfic, happy-but-not-really-happy ending, I know I said female!reader but there's virtually no pronoun usage or descriptive words in thisfor the reader besides titles so maybe GN!reader??

A/N: I'm blown away, almost 500 notes on His Kiss, the Riot? Holy shit, all of the thanks! Here it is, the final part! I'm ending it with the song that actually started this whole idea. Listening to Eva's interpretation of Eurydice singing Flowers gave me the most delicious, fucked-up bit of inspiration and this came out. I was clutching my own metaphorical pearls writing this cause damn, this gets dark. Like, way more than I thought I could write. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the end of this twisted tale. Thank you for reading! As always, I appreciate you taking the time to like, comment, and reblog.

Read Part One and Part Two

AO3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.

Lily white and poppy red

I trembled when he laid me out

“You won’t feel a thing,” he said, “when you go down”

Nothing gonna wake you now

Drops of blood. 

A wicked, black smile.

“You won’t feel a thing.” 

You wake up with a gasp. Your doctor had warned you about dreams like this. They weren’t real, just an aftereffect of your accident.

The medical staff for House Harkonnen had been gracious enough to inform you of your predicament. When your family had recently hosted the Harkonnens, you quickly met and fell deeply in love with the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. Your love for each other was so intense that you had demanded to get married right away. Your father disapproved of the union, so he disowned you and banished you, demanding to never see you again.

On the journey back to Geidi Prime, a stray asteroid hit the ship and caused you to hit your head. Feyd had apparently worried for your life, which saddened you and warmed your heart. It was nice to know that someone truly cared for you. However, your mind wasn’t quite the same afterwards. Your life before Geidi Prime was completely unknown to you. Your memories were in a fragile state.

That was just a few months earlier. Unfortunately, your mind has not yet recovered your memories prior to the accident. You were diligently taking a specially brewed tea that would calm your mind so it wouldn’t fracture under the immense pressure to try and fix itself. When you asked how long it would take for you to recover, your heart cracked when they said that it may take the rest of your natural life.

While it broke your heart to hear of your father’s dismissal of your feelings, you believed that you were strong enough to carry on. Having no further ties to your home world made it better to settle in with your new family.

You are a Harkonnen now.

Now, your footsteps make the quietest of echoes as you traipse down the narrow corridor. Heads of nearby servants and slaves bow, and eyes snap to the floor as you pass by. You feel the barest of sympathies, for not being allowed the simplest of human connection with their na-Baronness. But it was paradise considering the consequences should anyone ever feel bold enough to try otherwise.

Your husband wouldn’t allow that.

Dreams are sweet, until they’re not

Men are kind, until they aren’t

Flowers bloom, until they rot and fall apart

“Can I not have a single friend on this planet?!”

You burst into your shared chambers, rage rushing through your veins. All you had wanted was to have lunch and tea with one of the few female palace advisors you had taken a liking to. Maybe share a laugh or a story. Make a connection outside of your new family. That was all ruined when Feyd barged in and gutted your companion, stomach-to-throat, while she sat in her chair.

You were sure that your shoes had trailed blood down the hallway, but your mind was focused elsewhere at the moment.

“What use would you have for friends? I am right here.” He closed in on you, grasping your arms and forcing you to look in his direction. “Am I not enough for you? Do I not give you everything you should ever desire?”

His hands tighten around your wrists, making you flinch. A stray tear falls from your eyes, guilt starts to overcome your anger.

“No, not at all, husband! You have given me everything I could have wished for and more,” You wrench your hands out of his grip and grasp his face. He showered you with gifts, never let you go hungry or thirsty and this is how you repay him? “I just… I didn’t think you would want to hear me talk about certain things. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“I know you don’t, my darling.”

You take a deep breath as you feel the tension in the room start to settle.

“Your mind is already fragile from the accident… I just want to keep you safe.”

Safe. That was the key here. He takes step back and retrieves a small dagger from his belt.

Feyd holds it up, showing you the weapon. “Did you know that your friend had a blade dipped in poison strapped onto her person?”

You can feel the blood rushing from your face. No. You didn’t know.

“I-I didn’t see a knife on her. She couldn’t have-“

“She did.”

He drops the blade and leans in closer to you, forehead aligning with yours. “There are people out there who seek to harm you, who seek to harm me through you. I can never let that happen.”

You nod furiously. You couldn’t believe that you had been so stupid. 

Trust is unbelievably hard to come by in the Galactic Imperium. Your few months’ worth of memories can even attest to that. It seems that the only people you can truly rely on is family.

“I only want what’s best for you.”

You understand now.

Is anybody listening?

I open my mouth and nothing comes out

Another argument discussion had emerged from your telling of your latest dream. Your husband was convinced that you were entirely too exhausted to put any stock into what your subconscious was telling you, but you thought otherwise.

Fingers run through a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

“I swear to you, it felt so real! It was almost like a memory, like something I-,” A firm hand is placed on your shoulder as you give a slight stumble. Feyd puts a hand on your back, leading you to the edge of your bed, setting you on the bench that was placed against the footboard.

“Please, have some of your morning tea, my darling. You look a bit peaked.” You accepted the cup he gave you, settling down and taking a few sips of the warm, spiced drink. Your mind instantly calms, anxieties evaporating from your body like puffs of smoke. Never mind the memories that you had just… Floating.

Your husband is now on one knee in front of you, arms encasing your body, as his hands cup your face. He brings your eyes to meet his, seemingly searching. For what? You do not know.

“What were you saying about this dream of yours?” A pause reverberates throughout the room as your head tilts in confusion.

“My…?” You stutter, mouth opening to complete a thought that was no longer entirely there. “I can’t quite remember. What were we talking about?”

Your husband gives a smirk, analyzing your face once more before placing his hand on the dark fabric covering your swollen belly.

“Nothing of import. It seems that my heir is set on scrambling your thoughts.”

There seemed to be nothing in this world that brought more joy to Feyd-Rautha’s face than the sight of you and his unborn child. He’s more protective of you now than ever, having guards always posted near you, having you wear a shield during all public appearances. Not to mention, he was damn near insatiable in private. His hands and mouth are practically dragged away from you and your growing stomach every morning.

You give a chuckle. “I’d heard about pregnancy brain before, but never knew it to be this taxing! Perhaps I’ll take a walk later if I’m feeling up to it.”

Feyd gives your cheek a soft pat before rising to his feet, “Rest, my darling. I shall check in on the both of you later.” His hand rests next to yours, giving your belly a quick rub before he walks towards the door.

Your head goes to set on your pillow, the warmth from the tea running through your body. You must be really tired, since you fall asleep so quickly.

Quick enough to not hear the deadbolt lock clicking from the outside once the door is closed.

Flowers, I remember field of flowers

Soft beneath my heels

Walking in the sun, I remember someone

Someone by my side, turned his face to mine

The dreams start to encroach your mind while you are awake. You continue to follow your doctor’s instructions: take your daily tea, rest often, don’t overexert your body or your mind. But, ever persistent, they push through, finding parallels with your daily life to latch onto.

A hand, gently enlaced with yours, guides you through a meadow—

You husband’s hands lead you to stand with him by his uncle’s side, preparing for another ceremony.

A laugh, familiar and warm—

A chilling cackle of laughter reaches you in your viewing box, watching your husband gleefully slay another adversary in the arena.

Bright, yellow sunlight caressing your face and neck—

The black sun of Geidi Prime pulses in your periphery as you wave to a crowd below, your husband standing stoically next to you.

A kiss, given freely—

Feyd ravishes you in your chambers, lips melding together with yours.

My darling—

My love—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

“Is everything alright, my darling?”

You blink, snapping back to the present. Pale, smooth skin and blue eyes, your husband extends his hand towards you. Safe. He gives you everything. You and your child will never struggle or suffer with him. You are safe with him. Aren’t you?

Blood splatters over a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

You give a bright smile.

If you ever walk this way

Come and find me lying in the bed I made

[kimdokjas]

on looking back & repetition as metaphors for grief

1. a grief observed - c.s. lewis // 2. spirited away - dir. hayao miyazaki // 3. orpheus tries to hold on to eurydice (c. 1791) - françois gérard // 4. omniscient reader's viewpoint - singshong // 5. gilgamesh a verse narrative - tr. herbert mason // 6. omniscient reader's viewpoint - singshong // 7. on the other side of grief with ocean vuong - aaron schwartz // 8. time travel told in five parts - judas h. // 9. omniscient reader's viewpoint - blackbox art // 10. housewife, the vanishing princess - jenny diski // 11. poem in pieces, a log; a history of too much - adrianne kalfopoulou // 12. the butterfly's burden; cadence chooses me - mahmoud darwish // 13. metamorphoses - ovid

image ids under the cut:

1. A quote by C.S. Lewis. I look up at the night sky. Is there anything more certain than that in all those vast times and spaces, if I were allowed to search them, I should nowhere find her face, her voice, her touch? She died. She is dead. Is the word so difficult to learn?

2. Dialogue from the Spirited Away screenplay. Haku says: But I can't go any farther. Just go back the way you came, you'll be fine. But you have to promise not to look back, not until you've passed through the tunnel.

3. A painting by François Gérard. Orpheus tries to hold on to Eurydice as she lies prone in his arms. Orpheus has a desperate expression on his face.

4. An extract from Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint. A tale of this new world continued to flow on. But then, just as the subway's doors closed, Han Sooyoung looked behind her with a slightly unsure, hard-to-read face of someone that left something behind. Even Yoo Joonghyuk looked back, too. The only person who didn't was Kim Dokja.

5. An extract from The Epic of Gilgamesh. If you are Gilgamesh and did those things, why / Are you so emaciated and your face half-crazed? / I have grieved! Is it so impossible / To believe? he pleaded. / My friend who went through everything with me / Is dead! / No one grieves that much, she said. / Your friend is gone. Forget him. / No one remembers him. He is dead. / Enkidu. Enkidu. Gilgamesh called out: / Help me. They do not know you / As I know you.

6. An extract from Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint. None of them could understand. They couldn't understand that there was someone in this world who could never live in the present.

7. A quote by Aaron Schwartz. In a way, grief is a marker of time. There was this and then there wasn't this, but you're still here,

8. A stanza by Judas H. so in the dream you find a way to go back / back to the days of sunshine on her not-yet grey hair / back to the hummingbird that came / when she called / back to when she still had a voice / to call them at all / time travel and grief are really not so different / it is all about looking back

9. Official art of Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint by Blackbox. Yoo Joonghyuk and Han Sooyung turn to look back at the viewer. Kim Dokja in the background walks ahead without looking back.

10. A quote by Jenny Diski: People don't understand about repetition, do they? How it is at the heart (thump, thump, thump) of obsession; at the erotic centre (drip, drip drip) of desire. You do, of course. Repetition is insatiability spelt sideways.

11. A quote by Adrianne Kalfopoulou. Grief will keep you reaching back / for what is not there

12. Poetry by Mahmoud Darwish. I am still here / but you won't return as you were when I left you / you won't return, and I won't return

13. A quote from Ovid's Metamorphoses. Eurydice, dying now a second time, uttered no complaint against her husband. What was there to complain of, but that she had been loved?

[rosemaze-reveries]

Hello, I am the man boob requester, I enjoyed it very much! You’ve reminded me the existence of bane, I forgot how much I loved him.

This time I would like to request something less on crack-ish; idv characters of your choice with a freakishly quiet reader who makes a small noise to announce their presence whenever they enter a room to not freak people out pls.

My cat does this and it’s the cutest thing ever..

🎨⚓📣⛓️📍🖋️🏈

🎨 Edgar - "Stop doing that." He finds it weird and unnecessary. A proper excuse me would suffice. As a result, you start skipping your greetings altogether, only to discover that Edgar is surprisingly easy to spook. A few poorly-stifled heart attacks later he demands you go back to announcing yourself.

⚓ Jose lifts an inquisitive brow. "What was that, love?" When you repeat the sound, he tests it on his own tongue, as if trying to recognize the language. Then he smiles at you, snapping as it dawns on him: "Aha! But of course—modern balderdash. A beautiful language, one all the more enchanting on your sweet lips."

📣 Lily totally hijacks it. Just from the few times you make that sound, she adopts it into her daily hello's. She's much more talkative than you are, so she's usually the one that comes trotting in to visit you rather than the other way around. Guess it's hers now! At least she only uses it with you.

⛓️ Luca tends to lose himself in his work, drowning out all other sounds. It's easy to sneak up on him. He tunes out your little greeting the first few times you use it, and even now he still misses it sometimes. He starts responding with a small noise of his own to let you know he's heard you.

📍 Matthias spends a long time trying to decipher the meaning behind it. Some days he wonders if it's a signal to someone else, that he's being tracked in some way. One day he finds himself in a position where he's not sure how to catch someone's attention, and suddenly your small voice floats up in his head. All of a sudden it clicks. You won't mind him borrowing it just this once, right?

🖋️ Orpheus won't comment on it directly, but he does notice. He picks up on every little thing you do. He returns your greetings as he would anyone else, maybe giving you a nickname based on the sound, like little mouse or dove. The sound is endearing but unusual enough that he thinks about it often... You'll never get to hear his thoughts about it though.

🏈 William takes to this super quickly. For him, your quiet chirp is not so much a warning but a very welcome greeting. Whether he's working on something or mid-conversation, his face lights up like clockwork the moment he hears it. He'll glance around with a smile tugging at his lips until he spots you, where it blooms into a huge grin.

[fishermanshook]

TO THE STARS ABOVE.

( night watch ) + gn!reader

happy birthday @rieuvie ♡ , ooc probs , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

Night Watch is undoubtedly one of the more ruthless Hunters found in the Oletus Manor. Most if not all of his matches end in the Survivors being obliterated and their bodies left with aches and scars that only time can heal.  

However, there has been someone who’s broken through the fortress he’s put up to protect himself [ somehow… ] and has helped him learn what it feels like to be loved all over again. 

Happy Birthday, Riel.

���wc꒱ 529

“Ithaqua, for the last time,” you say, trying to attract his attention. “where are we going?”

Unfortunately, your plea has fallen on deaf ears, as have the thousands of others you’ve thrown his way in the past 10 minutes. All that’s happened is your boyfriend picking you up bridal style and saying he’s taking you somewhere special. Nothing more, nothing less.

He hums before ‘answering’ your question. “I think you’ll know soon enough.” As if it’s the best response he could give you. And, in truth, maybe it is. Ithaqua has been a bit distant from you lately. Chances are that it's due to the onslaught of stress and depression the manor already provides, but your mind likes to jump to other conclusions. Conclusions of leaving you to side to try and survive these retched games.

The halls of the manor are eerily quiet and void of anyone in sight, minus the clacking of Ithquas stilts, making his presence known to whoever hears them. The only person you manage to spot is Orpheus, knee-deep in a newspaper burnt at the edges. He catches your eyes and gives you a knowing look. 

You wonder what it meant. 

- 

You groggily rub your eyes and stretch your arms into the heavens above you before looking around.  You're not sure when [ or where ] you fell asleep, but the view outside is nice at least. 

You feel your arms wrap around your waist, and, at first, you don’t recognize the hands of your lover. Nor have you noticed the checkered red and black picnic cloth you’ve been sitting on. The cake though is a delightful surprise and— where are you? 

You whip your head around and almost clang it against Ithaquas. Your eyes widen as only now does his face come into view and now you're falling into the bushes right next to you and—

“Baby, are you alright?” He says in such a sweet voice that it almost sounds out of character for him. [ cause it is, bitch. ] Although, it doesn’t take you long for you to nod your head and step out of his lap and into the scene he’s set up all by himself. 

“Wow, Ithaqua, it’s beautiful.” You say, gazing at the colors in front of you. 

“Me or the Sunset doll face?” He chuckles, making you let out a small giggle at his idiotic remark. “I thought I’d do something nice for you ‘cause, I know, it’s your birthday and all.”  

You kiss his cheek. “It’s lovely. Now, how about we celebrate a little, huh?” You say, draping your arms around his neck before he picks you up and spins you around. 

“Happy birthday, idiot.” 

a/n: SO out of character because god knows this is the first [ and probably last ] time I’m ever writing for him,,,,but I’d do it again for you Riel. Happy birthday 🎂.

© fishermanshook — no stealing , translating , plagiarizing or reposting my work on other any other sites + reblogs adored !!

[kohabielnin]

Valentine Day Headcanons

I know it took me a while to do this, as classes make it a little difficult for me, this is another gift for someone very special to me, the @kaval0 💕

Norton Campbell

• Incredible as it may seem, he remembered the date and was prepared days before as he saw the children arranging things to give gifts to those they like,

• Everyone in the mansion was surprised when he handed you a flower and chocolates,

• Naib stole some chocolates just to tease Norton, as usual,

• His embarrassed look when he handed you the chocolates was really cute,

• Both Melly, Frederick and Alice wondered if he was actually sick,

• In general, no one in the mansion expected Norton to give you chocolates

Ronald of Ness

• He closed the theater so he could have time with just you,

• I always saw this skin as one of Norton's most romantic skins because he's an actor,

• This man is not very good at cooking, so the one who helped him with everything was Lady Truth,

• He compares you all the time to flowers, especially roses,

• For a whole day, you can wear his hat and mask,

• He called Mr. Inference to boast that he had company on Valentine's Day...

Naib Subedar

• You two ate the chocolates together, it was cute according to witnesses,

• He worked hard to make the chocolates and even harder not to eat them 💕

• Norton played little a with Naib, but he didn't care and ignored Norton,

• He was a little shy when it came to handing over the chocolate, as he had never done it before,

• Eli helped him have the courage to go talk to you and Brooke watched so Naib didn't give up halfway,

• Spending Valentine's Day with him was definitely a lot of fun

Morningstar

• He made his servants make a feast just for you,

• He just loves spoiling you, whether it's a holiday or just a regular day,

• There isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't say he loves you out of fear of losing you,

• He made you a crown similar to his as a gift,

• He himself searched the entire kingdom for the most beautiful rose so he could give it to you,

• In general, Morningstar is a sweet, beautiful, perfect and sweetheart

Orpheus

• This man simply wrote the most romantic poem you've ever seen in your life, along with flowers and chocolate,

• Guess who had a pinky in the middle of one of the letters you received? Exactly, Little Girl,

• You two had a great day together,

• He took the day to listen to you talk about the books you like while giving your opinion about them too,

• He is very good with words, so sometimes he would say something or other to embarrass you, like a compliment in French that he learned from Frederick,

• There was no shortage of tea and cookies in the afternoon for you two

Bonus due to our zap/discord ship in which I am Frederick

Frederick Kreiburg

• Ok... you woke up hearing him playing your favorite song on the piano,

• If you ask him about this, you will only hear: "I feel like playing this song", with an indifferent pose as always,

• On the coffee table, there is a plate with some strawberries covered in chocolate and a handmade letter from him,

• He has a slight difficulty being romantic, but his small acts show that he cares a lot about you,

• He won't mind spending the day playing the piano for you if you wish,

• If you don't want him to spend the day playing the piano for you, he won't mind taking you somewhere relaxing with few people

[theofficialuriel]

girls (gender neutral) when yoohankim parallels Orpheus and Eurydice

[leftoverghosts]

(doubt comes in)

is this a trick that's bein' played on me? 

Art's devotion is almost worshipful, comparable to Orpheus' dedication to Eurydice.

art donaldson x reader.

warnings: implied depression after injury. use of she/her for reader. no use of y/n. not beta read.

nori says: this is an expansion of my orpheus!art blurb okay!!! i hate it!! idk if this is what i wanted, but it's what i have to offer. please love me still. send me ideas if you want to! xoxo.

word count: 2,206

“You’ll get better,” Art says quietly, walking up to the net as you smash your racket against the ground. “You’re only a week post-op from your surgery.”

But you don’t want to get better—you want to be whole. You want to be as you were. What greater glory was there than being you on the court?

Your throat feels raw, imaginary bile rising like a torrent rushing through a gorge. You want to spit, to seethe, to yell.

Instead, you cry, and that only upsets you more.

Art comes around to rub your back, but his words are muffled, drowned out by the water plugging your ears.

He is Orpheus, trying to lead you—Eurydice—out of the underworld of your suffering, wading with you in a river too deep to tread.

He sees through your attempts to abandon him first. And you hate him for it.

Who the hell is Art Donaldson, with two healthy knees, to say he loves you—your pain, your anger?

How could he be so good? So self-sacrificial? How could it be real?

A voice in your head, that you don't recognize as your own, whispers: he too will turn around to watch your demise.

You feel the weight of Art's hand on your back, his touch a reminder of his unwavering presence. But the comfort it once brought now feels like a burden, a shackle tying you to a reality you desperately want to escape. You shrug off his hand, the movement sharp and dismissive, mirroring the jagged edges of your fractured spirit.

The tears keep falling, each one a bitter reminder of the dreams that slipped through your fingers like sand. The sobs choke you, stealing your breath and your voice.

"I'm here," he murmurs, his voice a lifeline in the tempest of your despair. "I'm not going anywhere."

You turn to face him, your eyes searching his for any hint of pity or regret. Instead, you find only love, pure and unwavering, shining like a beacon in the darkness. It's almost too much to bear, the intensity of his devotion, the depth of his commitment. You want to believe him, to trust in the strength of his love, but the voice in your head whispers its poisonous doubts.

"Don't," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the roar of your inner turmoil. "Just… don't."

Art's eyes, those mesmerizing pools of blue and brown, search your face, seeking a glimmer of the person he once knew. But you avert your gaze, unable to bear the reflection of your broken self in his loving stare.

You limp away from the court, each step a painful reminder of what you've lost. The mangled tennis racket dangles limply from your hand, a useless appendage, a cruel mockery of your former glory. Art follows, his footsteps echoing behind you like a persistent heartbeat, a rhythm you can't seem to escape.

"Please, talk to me," he begs, and it sounds like weeping, his voice laced with desperation. "Let me help you."

But how can he help when he doesn't understand? How can he fathom the depths of your despair when he stands on the precipice of his own success?

You whirl around, your eyes blazing with a fire born of anguish and frustration. "I don't need your pity, Art! You can't fix me!"

The words tear from your throat, raw and bleeding, like shards of glass embedded in your vocal cords. Art flinches, his face contorting with the pain of your rejection. But still, he persists, reaching out to you with an open heart and unwavering devotion.

"I'm not trying to fix you," he says softly, his voice a soothing balm against the ragged edges of your soul. "I just want to be here for you, to love you through this."

But love, you realize, is a double-edged sword. It has the power to heal, but also the capacity to destroy. And right now, with your dreams lying shattered at your feet, you can't bear the thought of dragging Art down into the abyss with you.

You turn away from Art, your shoulders sagging under the weight of your anguish. The sun beats down on your back, its warmth a cruel mockery of the ice that has settled in your veins. You want to run, to hide, to disappear into the shadows and never emerge. But your knee, that traitorous joint, holds you captive, anchoring you to this moment, to this pain.

"I can't do this," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I can't be the person you need me to be. Not like this."

Art's hand settles on your shoulder, his touch feather-light yet impossibly heavy. "You are exactly the person I need you to be. Broken, whole, it doesn't matter. I love you."

The words hang in the air between you, a lifeline and a condemnation all at once. You want to believe him, to lose yourself in the comfort of his embrace and let his love wash away the stains of your failure. But the voice in your head, that insidious whisper, won't be silenced.

"You say that now," you murmur, your gaze fixed on the horizon, on the future that seems to slip further away with each passing moment. "But what happens when you realize I'm not worth it? When you see that I'm just a shadow of who I used to be?"

Art's fingers tighten on your shoulder, a gentle pressure that draws your attention back to him. His eyes, those captivating pools of blue and brown, bore into yours with an intensity that steals your breath.

"If you are a shadow, then me be swallowed whole by the darkness.” He says, his voice low and fervent. "You mean everything to me - your strength, your passion, your fire - they still exist inside you, even if you cannot see them at this moment. And I will spend every day reminding you of that until you believe it too."

Tears blur your vision, hot and stinging, as the walls around your heart begin to crumble. You want to believe him, to trust in the unwavering faith that shines in his eyes. But the road ahead seems so long, so daunting, and you're not sure you have the strength to walk it.

"I'm scared," you admit, the words tearing from your throat like shards of glass. "I'm scared of failing, of never being the same again. I'm scared of losing you."

Art's arms encircle you, drawing you into the shelter of his embrace. His heartbeat thrums against your cheek, a steady rhythm that anchors you to the present.

"You could never lose me," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "I will be here, by your side, every step of the way. We'll face this together, one day at a time. And even if you never set foot on a court again, you will always be a champion in my heart."

Tears well up in your eyes as you hold onto him tightly, as if he might vanish from your embrace. "You're too good to me, Art. I love you."

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

As you stand by the clay courts of Stanford, memories flood back to you. Memories of a time when your name was synonymous with tennis greatness, when you were the future of the sport. But now, even as a New York Times best-selling author and respected ESPN commentator, you felt like a mere spectator in the world you once ruled.

Your attention is immediately drawn to the court on the far left. It was where you and Art spent countless hours, with his arms wrapped around you as the two of you worked through your injury and anger. Even though you had already mastered the basics, you allowed him to guide your hands and correct your form. Your motivation for these lessons went beyond just regaining your abilities; it was also a way to ease Art's worries and show him your love.

In the beginning, you had hoped those lessons would heal you, but after a while, all you longed for was to stand across from Art on the other side of the net and volley with him at full strength once again - not for glory, but for the joy it brought both of you.

"God," a voice calls out, as if that were your name. You turn, already knowing it is your husband who has followed you here. He rarely lets you out of his sight, afraid that you will slip back into your defenses after all the time he spent using love as a Trojan horse to get into your heart. "You shone so brightly on that court."

You wince, realizing that he has spoken your inner thoughts. Art senses your unease and foresees your attempt to escape. Before you can flee, his hand grasps your shoulder, halting your retreat with a firm grip.

You plaster on a smile, your feigned cheer clearly confusing him. He hadn't wanted to come to this event in the first place and seeing how these ghosts still terrorize you, Art is upset.

You allow his touch to anchor you in place. He utters your name like a familiar prayer, drawing you back to the present. You've long accepted that he will always worship at your altar. But the raw sincerity shining in his eyes in this moment feels too genuine, too exposing.

"Are we leaving?" He inquires softly, and his ring on your finger feels like a symbol for safe passage over the river Styx.

"I just wanted to stay for our speeches," you say as he brushes hair away from your face with tenderness. Even in your most tempestuous moments, he shows compassion.

"Baby—"

"I'm sorry for—"

You both start at the same time, but you wave him on benevolently.

"Come back to me," he pleads obediently, "don't go somewhere I can't follow."

His words ignite a fire inside you. No matter what storms may come, he seeks shelter within you and continues to fan your flames. Art's devotion is almost worshipful, comparable to Orpheus' dedication to Eurydice. You can't help but reminisce about moments spent together - showering, Art supporting your injured knee, or him feeding you when your sadness weighed down your hand and you couldn't eat on your own.

He always made sure to remind you that his success was also due to your support. The fruits of his labor - his career - were meant for both of your enjoyment. Without you, he could not thrive.

"I'm here. I'm with you." You say after a moment. Reaching up, you cradle Art's face between your palms, your thumbs gently caressing the smooth planes of his cheeks. His skin is warm beneath your touch, a tangible reminder of the life and love that flows between you. As you trace the contours of his jawline, you marvel at the strength and tenderness that coexist within him, a perfect balance that has sustained you through your darkest hours.

Art leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed as he savors the intimacy of the moment. His golden curls, tousled by the gentle breeze, tickle your fingers, eliciting a soft smile from your lips. In this instant, the world around you fades away, and all that exists is the connection between you, a bond forged in the crucible of adversity and tempered by the power of unconditional love.

"I love you," you whisper, the words a sacred oath, a promise to hold onto the emotions that have rescued you time and time again. Gripping Art closer to you, your fingers entwine in his hair as you bring his mouth to yours.

Art's lips dance against yours with a reverence that takes your breath away, each brush of his tongue a silent prayer, a vow to stand by your side through every trial and triumph.

When you finally part, breathless and flushed, Art's hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away the lone tear that has escaped your lashes. "I love you too," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "More than anything in this world."

[entomologistt]

Where do they keep a picture of you?

Featuring: Alice DeRoss, Frederick Kreiburg, Melly Plinius, Orpheus DeRoss, and Norton Campbell (separate headcanons)

Ento note: Basically ashes of memory gang, yeah. I love them. I wrote this on the verge of passing out... First written post too!! ^^ Gender neutral reader!!!

Alice DeRoss

Goodness, she has so many pictures of you! All taken with the camera she always has with her. Where does she keep them? She definitely has a whole scrapbook dedicated to pictures of you and the two of you together! With dates and notes.

But on her person, she keeps a special picture of you in her purse to carry wherever she goes. When she has the time to herself, she often takes it out to admire you, a fond smile on her face.

It’s one where she caught you off guard during one of your dates. She thinks it really captured your natural radiance, your most natural, most prettiest smile without being encouraged by the camera… Which is why it’s her favourite!

She can’t wait to capture more of you!

Frederick Kreiburg

Frederick is considered a paranoid person, and although you may not be a secret, he doesn’t want you dragged into his problems. But he definitely has a picture of you on his person. It’s kept safely in a secret compartment of his coat; it can only be accessed by him.

So when he gets into that spiralling state, when none of his musical compositions sound or look right, a sea of crumbled papers surrounding his space— yeah, he needs something to get him out of there. So that’s with his tuning fork, the echoing soundwaves clearing his thoughts, silencing those “ghosts” …

And looking at the picture of you, the one he keeps so dear. It inspires him, the captured feelings he has for you eventually turned into beautiful piano symphonies.

You are his muse, after all.

Melly Plinius

Melly keeps you in her hat. She likes you, and she likes hats, so it’s the perfect combination. Her two favourite things in one, how lovely. In that little space inside with the stitches, so it's basically kept as snug as a bug.

It’s a picture of you on a picnic you’d set up for the two of you, a surprise from you when you tagged along on one of her entomological studies. Out of all the insect and flower pictures taken on that camera, the picture of you had to be the best, her lovebug.

However, she doesn’t always carry it—only when she travels. When she’s not, she puts it in a frame or somewhere it can be protected. She doesn’t want to lose it, it’s her favourite.

She deeply appreciates you and your sweetness.

Orpheus DeRoss

Orpheus wouldn’t keep you on his person. No, he has to keep you a secret; he has to be careful. But you are his darling lover; he has to have at least one, so he keeps your picture hidden away in a journal. Like a bookmark.

In fact, this journal is filled with a bunch of writings or poems about you. It’s all dedicated to you, all the thoughts of you he has written down while away from you. He misses you.

Maybe, just maybe, one day he’ll give and show it to you… When the time is right.

He’s running out of pages to spill his heart on.

Norton Campbell

There are two places Norton might keep your picture. Like Melly, somewhere on his mining hat, or simply in his pocket. He doesn’t have the luxury of being fancy with it. Wherever it is, he treats it like it’s the last thing he has of you, so it's definitely treasured.

So when it slips out onto the ground, he’s quick to chase and grab it before they can. He can handle the teasing and remarks of his cruel co-workers, he doesn’t care, as long as he still has that picture of you in his possession.

It’s you that keeps him going, along with… other things. He has his own goals, yes, but is it so bad to want light in the darkness of this hellhole?

You make him believe that kindness still exists.

[otakusparkle]

So I got the information regarding future events of Identity V (from Mori (Twitter))

- Next diary is Hullabaloo circus and will be implemented next year

- The continuation of the main story (Ashes of Memories) will be released next year

- In addition to the new episode of AoM, Entomologist will have Identity Switch (Hunter) form

- Every character will have their turn to get S-Tier Costume, it is state by NetEase apology that there is no unfairness for every single character and for the Visitors to please be patience for the release

- Toy Merchant S-Tier Costume

- Cowboy S-Tier Costume

- Instead of Photographer, COA 8 Hunter will be Soul Weaver to get S-Tier Costume

- Journalist and Novelist S-Tier for Sherlock Holmes collaboration will be released next year

- Undead new costume

- Explorer new content

- Female Dancer new content (this year)

- Breaking Wheel and Entomologist GG team champion

- Deduction Stars will be released at the end of this year : Fool's Gold, Journalist, Composer, Hermit, Cheerleader, Patient

- Nymph Award : The Ripper and Prospector

[kupidachillea]

how I think Ancient Greek mythology boys would treat you hcs:

Achilles:

🏺-He’s a bit possessive, not entirely in a ‘red flag’ kind of way but a ‘My partner, I’ll kill you if you touch them” type of way

🏺- He doesn’t like to admit it but he loves to cuddle and hold you close. Especially after he takes a cold shower- he’ll just flop down next to you and shimmy over until he’s on top of you and he’ll just stay there; recharging from your warmth

🏺-he’s definitely more of a physical touch is his lover language type of guy. So holding hands, kisses on the cheeks, touching your hair, caressing you softly. Yeah- that’s what he likes

🏺- He seriously doesn’t like it when other men try to flirt with you..it rubs him the wrong way and it makes his anger bubble up, but he’s definitely not about to go over there and punch the guy in the face……at least..not when you’re around

🏺- He gets anxious when he sees you hurt, like I’m talking about, sprained ankle, flesh wounds, things like that. He grumbles to himself and makes you promise to be more careful.

Patroclus:

🌿- He’s not as possessive as Achilles, but he definitely has his possessive tendencies, like when you’re talking to another man, he’ll casually stroll on up and wrap his arms around you and just watch the guy with narrowed eyes

🌿- he’s a big old puppy dog, he loves hugging you whenever he can. He loves showering you with kisses. It’s just his thing. He especially enjoys holding you in bed and just listening to you heart beat

🌿-However, he loves giving gifts as well. From flowers to home cooked meals. You name it.

🌿- He doesn’t get as jealous as Achilles, but he only locks in when another man or woman is touching you inappropriately without your permission..he hates it.. he’ll try to be polite but stern about it.

🌿- If you ever get hurt, he doesn’t worry that much- because he’s confident he can heal any wound you appear to him with.,though he’d rather prevent than cure…

Perseus:

🛡️- He’s a big old golden retriever boy. He doesn’t get jealous easily because he’s confident that you wouldn’t leave him. He’s only a bit clingy and he almost always insists on carrying you places

🛡️- his love language is words of affirmation, or just loving words in general while he places soft kisses to your hand or palm. The look of devotion in his eyes when you stare back at him. The soft “My love…” or “my beloved..”..it just hits home for him.

🛡️- he loves to have you in his arms whenever he can. It just comes naturally to him, nuzzling your neck as he giggles and cuddles you on the sofa or bed or even the floor. He especially loves to tickle you just to hear your giggles.

🛡️- like mention before. He doesn’t get jealous that easily, instead he’ll probably loudly proclaim that you’re his spouse. And he gets a satisfied look on his face when he sees the scowl on other men or even women.

🛡️- if you get hurt he’ll apologise for not looking after you more carefully..even when you tell him it’s fine.he’s disappointed in himself for letting it happen. Especially under his roof. However anytime you do come to him to get it patched up. He’ll always give a small kiss to the treated wound. Like “boo boos go bye bye”

Orpheus:

🎼- He’s a bit sheepish with touch, but as soon as he warms up to it, he really loves to hold hands..and cuddle. It makes him feel safe and relaxed

🎼- He isn’t totally possessive, but he does make sure the person is at least an arms length away from you.. for their sake.

🎼- he loves to write odes to you. Songs, poems, the works. He’s got an entire book of love letters and an even bigger journal of songs and poems he’ll read to you.

🎼- He’s not really a jealous person but does get a bit moody and pouty, and sometimes he unintentionally stares at the man that’s flirting with you, and it’s so uncomfortable that the man leaves you alone. 🎼- when you get hurt, he’ll most certainly heal you. No doubt about, however he mutters to himself before you call him out on it. He apologises but it’s honestly cute, the way his brow furrows and his eyes are filled with worry. Afterwords he holds you in a soft hug.

sksksksksk I might do more of this. Eh if you see this and like it- drop more mytho boys for me to write about

[bicycle4two]

she must know (that she is loved) || Jason Todd x F!Reader

Summary:

jason has to trust that she is following him

or

an orpheus and eurydice retelling

...

Read on AO3

...

Part 1

...

It’s a journey he never thought he’d find himself on but there are a lot of things Jason thought he’d never do and has done, albeit most of the time reluctantly, against his will, in his life. 

It’s something out of a fairytale, an age-old story that was made to teach people lessons, to inspire thought and discourse, and Jason thinks that no one is going to believe that this is something he’s doing–something that can be done, but if there’s something that Jason Todd knows how to do, it’s the impossible.

If he was able to come back, why can’t she?

At least he’s here to guide her.

(God, he hopes that he is guiding her, that she, like she’s done many times before, is following him.)

…

There are moments, multiple throughout his time of knowing her, when she will ask him to play for her, play something she can dance to–an easy request, as there’s nothing she can’t dance to–something that allows her to close her eyes, spread her arms, and glide, twirl, fly across the room, allows her to forget that for a moment, just this moment at least, that there’s a world outside their own.

Jason doesn’t think he’s that good a musician, he prefers the company of his books when he finds himself having downtime, but he plays, he plays for her because she asks him to, because if it’s within his power, he’d do it for her, always for her.

So he plays her a tune, mostly something from the top of his head, a melody that’s inspired by her, and he watches her dance, follows her fluid movements with his eyes.

He’s not that good a musician, he can’t flawlessly play without looking down at the keys from time to time, but it doesn’t matter, she doesn’t seem to notice when he misses a note, and Jason couldn't care less either because he simply cannot tear his gaze away from her. 

(Jason! Look at me!)

He just can’t.

…

He’s long grown accustomed to all things cold and dark, in some way he has found comfort in it as it has often played to his advantage when he’s out fighting crime or investigating, but now he yearns for the light, the feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. 

It was not often that he found himself outside the city for leisure but there was a time, not so long ago, that she convinced him to drive them to the outskirts, just until they saw some semblance of nature, of life undisturbed, and they laid together under the clear blue sky. She had danced for him then, too, the trees as her backdrop, the grass her stage, her carefree laughter as her song.

And him, her enamored audience. 

There’s no laughter here now. The ground is wet under the soles of his shoes, the damp crunch of gravel under his heavy footsteps creates the soundtrack of this journey. He expects the haunting echoes of wind to accompany it, maybe the clicks of bats like what he hears when he is down at the Batcave, but the air is still, quiet, making it quite obvious that he is alone.

No. 

Not alone. 

Of course not because she’s here, she’s just behind him.

She’s always just behind him.

(Look! Look at me!)

…

Trust.

She’s there.

He needs to trust that she’s there, behind him, following him, like always.

Trust that even without him turning back, she’s just there, quickening her steps to catch up to his long stride.

He should probably slow down though, he doesn’t want to get too ahead of her, doesn’t want her to trip just because he wants to get them out of here as soon as possible, get her to where it's safe, get her home.

He stops.

He waits, just in case, in case she’s lagged behind, in case she has fallen due to their haste–

Fallen? What if she’s hurt? What if she’s too far behind, unable to move, he needs to turn back, needs to make sure–

No. 

Trust. 

She’s following him. 

She always follows him.

She must.

(Right?)

…

He used to say that her gaze was like fire, not in the way that it burns, but in the way that it warms, brings comfort. In the way that fire can symbolize that you’re home, that you can take refuge here.

He always feels the warmth of her stare, feels it like a caress down his back, before he hears her approach. It’s a difficult thing to do, to sneak up on him, and although her steps are soft, quieter than even his own trained and calculated movements, her eyes give her away everytime.

It’s this warmth that he seeks now. 

Sometimes he thinks he can feel it, feel the prickle at the back of his neck.

But it’s not enough, it was never enough just to feel that she’s there, he needs to know, needs to clarify with his own eyes that she is just behind him–

(Jason!)

–But he can’t. He won’t look back.

So he has to depend on what little warmth he feels, ignores that actual chill in his bones.

Because fire, although strong and consuming, can also be distinguished.

…

Just a peak–a little glance over his shoulder–just to make sure, just to check.

It won’t count—it will.

He can’t. 

But–

He just has to know. 

He has to make sure.

He must–

(Look!)

–He must not.

…

She used to say that Jason had a talent for finding her, especially when she needed him the most–when she was late to class, when she needed to go to the washroom because she’d spilled sauce on her white skirt, when she’d taken the wrong turn looking for their favorite coffee shop, when some Rogue goon had picked her off the streets to use as a hostage. He’s always there at the nick of time, just when she’s starting to feel a little hopeless, he’s there to save her, to bring her back.

What she doesn't know is that she has a talent for finding him, too. 

When he’s lost in his thoughts, stuck in a spiral of dark memories, of what ifs and could have beens. She finds him, brings him back to the light, reminds him that he is good, that he has good in him, that things, no matter how bleak they seem in the moment, will always turn out alright in the end.

Even him. 

Especially him.

…

(Look at me!)

Don’t.

…

There was a time, under the blanket of the night sky, when she roused him from his sleep, her eyes glassy with unshed tears, fingers twisted into his nightshirt.

“Why are you with me?”

She asks, voice cracking like ice. 

And Jason, Jason is frozen because—

She must know why. 

She must know.

“Why?”

But sometimes, sometimes she needs reminding. 

“How is it that you see me?”

She asks, eyes closing, tears falling, Jason reaches for her then, thumbs wiping at her cheeks, soft, so soft, fragile.

He sees her, he’s always seen her. 

It’s hard to look away from her.

And she must know why. 

…

“You always see the best in me.”

“I just see you.”

…

Light! 

There’s light!

It’s still a ways away but Jason finally sees an end to this journey, the suffering, the anxiety.

In his excitement, he nearly turns back to her, almost looks back to tell her, assure her, celebrate with her, that they’re almost done, they’re almost home but—

But he stops. He stops himself because he can’t, he must not.

He needs to reach the light first, needs to lead them out of the darkness, so he hurries, because it’s there—they’re almost there!

At last—

He’s here!

He feels the warmth on his skin, his eyes squint from how bright it is, can’t imagine how long it’s been since he’s been in the light, and her—it’s been even longer for her but soon, soon they’ll be together, together in the light—

“Jason!”

It’s automatic—he turns, he turns to her because she calls for him, he’ll always answer her call—

And, there she is!

There she is in—

Darkness.

…

“Jason, look! Look at me!”

And it’s almost funny how she feels the need to say that, to call his attention to her, because Jason is looking, he’s always looking at her. She doesn’t realize, doesn’t yet know, how hard it is for him to look away.

...

a/n:

oh look, i did write a part 2

[turbulentscrawl]

Heyy! Could you write a most-to-least compatible with a clingy!reader with the survivors maybe?

I love your works and find myself rereading them a lot, they're really stellar!! •v•

Thank you, I'm glad you like my work!! (I added Ithaqua, I couldn't resist)

Emma wants to be with you all hours of the day, craves it. She wants to never be alone again. If you want the same, then it’s nothing short of a match made in heaven, right?

(Bonus) Ithaqua is not #1 only because he doesn’t like if you get desperate about him having to leave for matches. Like, first of all, he doesn’t get a say and there’s nothing he can do. Second of all, he enjoys terrorizing the little survivors. This is his Me-Time. Any other time he adores having you wrapped around his finger—and a little separation pouting is endearing, but any more than that and he gets frustrated.

Eli is incredibly patient. He loves your company and doesn’t mind a shadow most of the time. But as he’s somewhat of a figurehead and confidant in the manor, he will sometimes need private time with other inhabitants. It’s for their privacy, you see, surely you understand. Otherwise, he doesn’t mind you sticking by his side!

Andrew won’t ever say it, but you liking his company so much sooths a lot of his soul-aches and worries. He does like some occasional quiet time, but otherwise he likes that you would choose time with him over time alone.

Antonio loves his darling’s company…but he also knows it’s important to give his friends some quality time too. (And he has a good amount of friends, despite fate’s intentions.) It’s only fair, right? Surely you can wait a bit. He’ll find you again later to share a bottle of wine.

Ganji similarly likes a good amount of time with his partner…but he’s also quite used to being alone and gets irritable when he doesn’t get any decompression time alone. Make sure he gets like five hours to do his own thing, and he’ll be alright the rest of the time.

Melly doesn’t know what to do with you most of the time. It’s not that she dislikes having you around, but rather she feels awkward. Is she…supposed to be doing something with you? Is she expected to entertain you? She’ll deal with this better after some reassurance and comfort, but otherwise struggles with subconscious expectations about her duties as a partner.

Emily can appreciate clinginess from a medical standpoint. You’ve got some abandonment wounds, yes? You’re afraid of being left behind. She will do her best to accommodate you, but unfortunately she has to work the infirmary most nights and you can’t just loiter in there. Respect her work hours and she’ll make it work the rest of the time.

Orpheus is busy with his own things a good chunk of the time, but as long as it’s not anything private he doesn’t mind sharing space with you. You can even sit on his lap while he’s busy writing…just don’t distract him with inane chatter. And when he says he’s busy, respect that.

Norton avoids you for your own good, alright? Don’t make this difficult. He’s not answering any questions about the hows and the whys, and begging will get you nowhere. When he’s able to have you around, rest assured he’ll be around. He wants to be around you. But whenever he leaves you be, it’s because you’re safer that way.

Luchino also has work. Even in the manor, he’s not giving up on his research, his life’s work. It’s better if you let him come to you. Make plans with him; he’ll never be late, never forget you. But he has work and even as his s/o you can’t be allowed to distract him.