#(because dum spiro spero = while I breathe I hope) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whereflowersbloom · 3 years

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Dum Spiro Spero

The leader of the league of shadows and secrets was watching a beautiful creature bathing in sunlight. Shinning ebony hair catching each breath of early autumn’s glinting sunset, a tendril of her hair catching in the wind as it breaks free from an elaborated braid. Raven was kneeling in the garden, hands working the soil, to bring life, making new life grow. Some moments she stopped to enjoy the autumnal breeze on her face, staring into the distance as if caught in between this world and another.

Looking back Damian never thought he would have this. It had never been an option for him. His life was mostly filled with dangers, blood, threats and uncertainty. Wondering if he would live to see the next sunrise or survive enough to watch the following sunset. His life had been filled with hatred. Hatred towards a parent be believed had abandoned him, an enemy that murdered his loved ones who raised him. He did everything in his power to avenge them but he did not feel satisfaction or any kind of gratification after killing him. No. The emptiness did not fade away.

There were times where he was filled with so much regrets. Regret of rejecting his father and not believing in him, that he cared for him. Regret of the days he spent resenting his adoptive brothers for having the chance of a different life. Regret for not being able to love someone freely. Not until her.

The first time he saw her he couldn’t help but stare in awe. The same day Damian drew in his first breath of Gotham City air.

An eternity could have passed by in the blink of an eye, breath hitched in his throat, eyes quivering with strong emotion, heart hammering in his chest and yet he would have stared at the sight of her the rest of his days. For it was humanly impossible to get his eyes off of her. It was a view he had been starved of for eighteen years.

He stared because she was light.

She was home. Finally.

Porcelain skin, thick locks of raven hair, piercing, unearthly amethysts struck through his soul. And he felt alive, whole.

He had learned an important lesson. Life was too short, shorter if you’re an assassin, it was too precious. You could never waste a second of it, especially with the people closest to your heart. And he made a solemn promise to his family and himself. He decided to live without regret. To take the opportunities that life handed him and most importantly, he swore to himself that even no matter what happened in the past, the terrible things he had done, his faults and mistakes. He deserved to be happy.

That was five years ago.

It was easy to lurk in the shadows of the their house, a petite, cozy cottage close to the league’s headquarters. In the Kunlun mountains he had found a rustic little gem straight out of a Jane Austen or Charlotte Bronté novel, that was how Raven had described it. She had been working on the garden for eight months. There were now fragrant jasmine bushes and two apple trees, one almost completely covered by creamy white climbing roses, clusters of bluebells, foxgloves, pink Hibiscus flowers, pale lavender orchids, and the entire lawn was strewn with white and yellow daisies. In the shadows he knew he would not disturb her reverie. Yet he had been caught, luminous violet eyes wiser than her years cast to where he has hidden with a gentle smile that just pricked the corners of her mouth. “You know I can feel you staring, Damian. The intensity of your emotions is making me go weak.”

Damian couldn’t stop admiring his lover. Because the eyes that followed her were ones brimmed with love, adoration. Stepping into the sunlight, gently he helped her stand up, instinctively wrapping an arm around her waist. “You will never be weak, beloved. Not because of me or anyone.” Words were spoken softly, his other hand reaching to lift a white lily from the blooming bulbs bed and tucking it right behind her ear. Not too far off in the distance the radiant sun continued arching low in the sky reading to say goodbye and allowing the sky to welcome the moon and stars.

One of his long, tanned hands, cupped her face with delicacy, her body aching desperately for his touch. He placed his remaining hand over her chest. She was aware that Damian could feel the rapid pulse of her heart through skin. “Thought you’re stronger than any other living creature in this universe. There is strength in your goodness, as much as there is in steel and fire.” His emerald eyes were filled with so much joy, so much warmth and devotion, it was endless, everflowing.

Raven barely thought she was breathing, willing her unruly heart to ease a fraction, soothe down its beating instead of racing even after all these years together. Damian gently kissed her temple and murmured against her rosy cheek in a low voice that made goosebumps rise on her tender flesh. “Do you know why I fell in love with you?”

She licked her lips and pretended to think about it for a moment. “Because I said you were insufferable our first meeting.” She teased. As much as his presence annoyed her at first, she had come to feel comfortable around him, safe, content. The feelings she had tried to contain became harder and harder to ignore. Slowly, he carved himself into her heart, something she did not have a name for took root. Every time he saw him, heart fluttered in her chest like a child, and everytime he smiled at her...oh Azar she couldn’t take the clash of ardent emotions. After that something inside her began to loosen, shift, to change. She had been a fool, deceiving herself it was nothing more than friendship.

Everything changed for them and she was infinitely thankful both had put in the effort to help each other overcome their fears. They only required a little push from Dick at the beginning, because both were impossibly stubborn.

Damian chuckled audibly. It was a fascinating sound she thought to herself. His hand trailed along her collarbone, enjoying the smooth texture of her ivory skin, grasping the side of her face. Green orbs bored into violet constellations. He spoke firmly and his features hardened slightly. There was a battle raging behind his green gaze, like he was desperately fighting something inside him. His past. “You did not judge me for my past actions, for the assassin I was raised to be. I was coated in blood, spent my days destroying and taking lives. And yet you found goodness in me.” His deep voice was rough and cracked just a bit.

She had given him five years worth of smiles, laughter, love and so much more. Filling the void inside him after losing his grandfather and mother. She had lifted him up. Damian would never let her go. He refused to. How could he?

“Dum spiro spero.” He breathed, heart thundering in his chest.

He did not have tell her its definition. She knew the meaning of the phrase. She blinked in surprise, her mind automatically translated it. While I breath, I hope.

Interlacing his hand with hers, entwined like a vine to tree, he swallowed hard before continuing. “You are my hope, Raven. When I look at you I see hope.” Raven was this incredible force which had burrowed itself so deeply within him being that there would be no uprooting it. Never.

She found herself voiceless, giving time for his words to sink in. Then she did not have to think about her responses for more than a second. She knew exactly what she wanted to say.

Raven held his gaze, unwavering, for another minute before speaking. “I know you really look at me and see me for who I am and I hope you know, I will always look at you and I will see someone who despite seeing the worst of it all, is still kind, good, a generous and compassionate soul.”

The raw emotion swimming in his eyes made her want to embrace him for eternity. He loved her. He loved her more than she ever imagined. She felt her own eyes watering, tears running down her cheeks which Damian wiped away with careful motions.

“I would love to be your hope until the end of my days.” She whispered voice thick with emotion, forehead pressed against his. His skin was warmer than hers, she let herself submerge in the lingeringly tender contact. Unable to hold back anymore Damian kissed her ferociously, with starved lips, pouring all his words and feelings into the caress. Squeezing her frame against his, wishing for any distance to vanish, anything that would keep them apart.

“I love you.” He whispered in the most intimate of ways against her mouth.

Damian took her in his arms, carrying her and not wasting time, making his way inside the small cottage. They were two souls in love, hearts beating the same tune, in perfect synchrony.

Happy birthday chromie 🙈🙈🙈❤️❤️❤️

This small oneshot is dedicated to @chromium7sky my closest friend in the fandom.

I hope you all like it though. @tweepunkgrl @alerialblu @andthendk @ravenfan1242 @carnationmilk @bourniebna @srose-foxfire @sofiii

#damirae #demon birds #damian wayne #damian al ghul #raven roth #teen titans #dick grayson #tim drake #bruce wayne #slade wilson #ra’s al ghul #talia al ghul #dc fandom #dc universe #creative writing #league of assassins #damian x raven #dum spiro spero

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shirbertshitposts · 3 years

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A concept:

Gilbert “Highest honors in classics” Blythe writing little love quotes in latin on Anne’s papers while they study together and Anne getting mildly annoyed because she doesn’t know latin and he’s marking up her notes. (Anne would know latin in the context of the books but in a modern context she might not which I think would be funny).

It wouldn’t have to be even whole quotes it could just be little phrases:

mea lux = my light

amica mea = my friend/my love

vita mea = my life

In perpetuum et unum diem = forever and a day

Dum spiro spero = while i breathe, i hope

Omnia vincit amor = love conquers all

“Omnia vincit amor” is a Virgil quote and in Anne of Avonlea it’s said that Anne and Gilbert do their virgil college coursework together so there’s that.

#shirbert #gilbert blythe #anne shirley #anne of avonlea

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chironshorseass · 3 years

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magnificently cursed

Annabeth kisses Percy Jackson at the winter solstice; because of this, things may turn out for the better—or is it the other way around? The only thing she knows for certain is that she has a special loathing for fatal flaws and prophecies.

or,

A canon divergent au in which many things happen at once.

read on ao3

Dum spiro, spero

(While I breathe, I hope.)

That was one of the first Latin phrases Chiron had taught her, all those years ago. It was what she hung on to when life carried on by a thread.

And when she’d been left, alone, to die, that was what she remembered. And also rocks, and blood, piling up on her. She’d begun to think that that was the only way of life. Rocks and blood.

Or maybe it wasn’t blood, maybe her vision had been drowned in scarlet. And maybe those weren’t rocks.

No, it was a fact that those weren’t rocks.

In her feeble brain, she knew. This was the sky.

This was the world.

But she couldn’t give up, because then everything would come crashing down. She’d die anyway, but the rest of humanity, Luke...they still had a chance.

Percy still had a chance.

But it was a ravenous pain, holding the world. One that gathered on her shoulders like burning steel and flowed through the rest of her body in a river of magma.

Dum spiro, spero.

While I breathe, I hope.

But she could barely breathe.

The weight of the world had been shoved onto her shoulders, all for betrayal. She was dimly aware of Luke (a friend or foe) and Atlas (a foe) , and someone else, standing there, watching. She wasn’t sure. It was hard to see anything when her mind delayed any comings and goings for just a few seconds.

Sweat had meddled in her eyes. She couldn’t clear it away.

Ringing echoed in her ears. She couldn’t scream for it to stop.

But every cell in her body screamed, and it wouldn’t stop. Everything screeched and cried and hollered, but she was sure that she made no sound.

All she wanted was for someone to take this agony, this torture, away from her. To burn it just like it was burning her.

More rocks fell.

Blurs from the outside of her hellish sphere discussed things.

Laughter.

Crying.

Ichor.

It trailed from someone’s legs like fresh honey. An immortal. She couldn’t hold her chin up to see who it was, however.

But that person made themselves known.

Artemis. She’d kneeled down next to Annabeth. Her face was streaked with gold. More ichor. Then she turned to say something, maybe to Luke. The goddess seemed distressed, angered.

Luke. Traitor. Friend.

Traitor.

A clang followed, and she had just enough energy to lift her eyes and see the chains that now littered Artemis’ feet. She’d somehow been trapped, like her, and—

More pressing weight from the sky. More backstabbing pain.

I am going to die.

And if she was going to die, she wouldn’t be able to breathe, and if she wasn’t going to breathe, she wouldn’t hope.

Better to die than hope, then.

Artemis’ flashing eyes appeared from the depths of her darkened vision.

Annabeth understood too late what was about to happen.

Chains free. Distressed goddess. Ichor. Laughter.

This was a trick played beautifully by Atlas—and Luke. They wanted to see Artemis trapped, just like her. They also wanted Annabeth free.

She let out a groan, a sound of protest. It was no use.

Artemis had already taken her place, holding what had nearly toppled over. Annabeth’s shoulders had never felt so light.

The last thing she saw was Percy’s face. His dimpled smile and his eyes the color of the sea on a clear day and his curly hair.

“Sleep tight, Annabeth,” he said.

Then he faded away, and she saw nothing at all.

While I breathe, I hope.

Percy had rescued her before. It went both ways, really, but this felt familiar. Riding some kind of horse—this time on Blackjack—with him tucked behind her, flying to safety. Well, she wasn’t sure if meeting the gods at the winter solstice could count as “safety,” but it was close enough.

He came for me.

Thalia flew closeby, on a pegasus with Grover. She remembered the knowing smile the daughter of Zeus had given her, right after Grover had crushed her into a hug.

“He didn’t come for Artemis,” she’d said, talking about Percy. It was hard not to blush.

Afterwards, They’d taken to the sky, dark comets streaking through the stars, through Zoë.

The guilt of what had happened would come to grasp her with greedy fingers, but it was smothered by Percy’s arms around her. Just like in Siren Bay. Just like after leaving Polyphemus’ island, injured and barely conscious.

And as New York’s city lights replaced the stars in the sky, that feeling of warmth also overcame the dread of what was to come.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

The wind tickled her words, just like it did her face, but Percy still heard.

Her neck was barely craned to him, and yet, she could see how close they were now. It made her grip onto Blackjack’s neck tighter.

He gave her one of those rare smiles, as though he’d been caught in the moment.“You don’t have to thank me for anything.”

She thought about Luke, for a second. He would always love her; that’s what he’d promised. They were family. And then again, Percy was always with her when she needed it the most. Ironic, maybe. But she couldn’t dwell on it.

Instead she said, “You did kind of save me, though.”

“Yeah, but you already thanked me, like, a bazillion times.” He tilted his head sideways. “Besides. You would’ve done the same for me.”

Percy meant to tell her. But the words were tangled up in his throat, just like they had been when the Olympian council debated on killing him.

Destroyer, they’d proclaimed.

Perseus. Destroyer.

In the end, Artemis hadn’t chosen Annabeth as a member of the hunt. But rather, Thalia.

Annabeth was alive and she wasn’t a hunter and from then on, he could breathe properly.

Staring at that lock of grey hair, she recalled the events that led them here. A pain that they both shared now.

She touched the streak gently, and they stayed there, swaying to their secretive music. It was the kind of song that stitched them together, two souls molded into one horrible moment.

But it was more than just the horror that connected them. In the vibrancy of Olympus, it felt like they were creating the beautiful moments, too. They’d become a luster that outshined the rust in their thread of life.

“So,” she said, swaying to the music. “What were you going to say to me earlier?”

“Athena doesn’t approve,” he mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

“What?”

“I just...I wanted to say that…” He grabbed her wrists that were currently locked around his neck, taking her hands in his. This time, his gaze landed on her, only her. “You mean so much to me. I never want to see you go.”

Annabeth shook her head; she still didn’t understand where this was going. “You won’t. I changed my mind—about the hunters.”

Percy breathed out a laugh. “I didn’t think I could feel so relieved in my life.”

“Me neither,” she smiled. “I don’t think that kind of life was for me, anyway. But…what does my mom have to do with this?”

He regarded her for a few seconds, until he finally relented. But not before checking both ways in case Athena was around.

“She knows what I want to tell you, but she doesn’t approve.”

“And that is…”

Maybe she had some idea as to what was going on. But she wanted to hear it from him.

It was exhilarating and frightening all at the same time.

He took a deep breath; when he spoke, the words tumbled out of his mouth like burnt offerings.

“I want to be with you—but not if you don’t want me to. As more than friends. It’s cool if you think it’s too fast, though, or...I just—I thought you’d leave me, and that scared me so much. And—I realized that I really like you. But only, only if you want to, obviously.” He pursed his lips. “I’ll just shut up, now.”

As more than friends.

I really like you.

She didn’t think she was prepared to hear this. It sent her reeling, tumbling into echoing chambers where it was only her and Percy’s words. Over and over.

“Annabeth? Are...you okay?” he asked.

She blinked, and she saw everything clearer. The softness of his voice, his eyes, concerned. The sensation of her hand in his. The plumpness to his lips. She wanted to kiss him, and badly.

“Mom doesn’t approve?”

He shrugged. “I mean, I guess.”

“I want to, though.”

Annabeth felt her cheeks flush at that, but she didn’t care.

“You’re...sure?”

“Yeah, Seaweed Brain. If you haven’t noticed: I really like you, too.”

“Really?” His eyes were wide, filled with wonder. But then he cleared his throat. “I mean, cool. That’s...cool.”

She snorted. “Okay, now—come here.”

And that’s when she kissed him. And everything felt perfect.

Though there was something that she’d forgotten. Something that had lured her into wanting to join The Hunters in the first place.

The hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap.

She squashed it down. Prophecies have double meanings, anyway.

“I do not approve of your friendship with my daughter.”

Athena had told Percy this. She’d told him many things. Like how his fatal flaw was personal loyalty, but she herself didn’t seem so sure.

But Athena was right, she was always right.

Except when it came to Annabeth. He didn’t care if she didn’t approve.

(Maybe that was his mistake.)

Annabeth thought that they could manage long distance—and they could—they’d been successful in calling daily and sending emails.

It was fine; she was finally happy.

Something in her had clicked at getting to see Percy smile at her when she’d call him her boyfriend, all sweet and loving, or just whenever he appeared on the IM. Her stomach filled with butterflies whenever he laughed at her jokes and whispered “goodnight” like a soft melody. Even though she never dared say, “I love you.”

It was all fine and good.

Until Luke appeared.

He’d knocked on her door, and her stepmother had answered.

She’d expected someone from camp, when Helen had called to her. There was a small flicker of hope there, that it was Percy.

But when she opened the door and stepped outside, her heart stopped. Her breath hitched.

“You,” she said through clenched teeth. Before he could react, she’d pointed her knife at him, slick and quiet as a panther.

His gaze flicked to that old knife, and he had the nerve to smile.

“You still use my knife.”

She ignored him, moving closer, pointing the blade directly at him. “You here to finally finish me off?”

He patted his pants and shirt, then carefully raised his arms.

“I’m unarmed, see? Just wanted to have a talk, that’s all.”

“Like you wanted to have a talk back on Mt.Othrys? When you left me there, to die?” Her voice shook, but she held her ground.

Luke winced. “Five minutes, Annabeth. That’s all I’m asking.”

He looked terrible, like he’d aged twenty years. Every word he muttered out seemed to steal a part of him, leaving him there to rot. His skin stuck to his face, pale and hollow.

“Consider this as a truce,” he said. “I don’t plan to hurt you. I swear on the Styx.”

Thunder boomed. Reluctantly, she lowered her knife. But she wasn’t stupid, that knife wouldn’t go anywhere.

“And what do you want to talk to me about?”

“I need your help.”

She shook her head. “Luke, you know I can’t—”

“Kronos,” he breathed. “This is about Kronos.”

Her hand tightened against the pommel of her blade. She waited for him to elaborate.

“He...wants to use me as a stepping stone. He’s gonna take over the world, if I let him.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“You don’t understand, Beth.”

At the mention of that nickname—that so few people ever used—she had no choice but to meet his eyes. They’d once been a bright blue. Now, they were shattered discs. Like his mother’s.

“I…” He moved his jaw from side to side, a nervous tick that had plagued him ever since coming to camp. “I can’t possibly do it. He’s gone too far, and I have no choice but—”

“ Why are you telling me this, Luke?”

“Because—”

“You know what? Whatever it is, I can’t help you.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but she spoke before that could happen.

“You nearly killed me, Luke. You get that? You nearly killed me. Do you know how messed up that is? How, how could you do that? We were family once!” She was screeching now, her voice reverberating across the cobbled San Francisco streets.

She felt the sharp sting of tears, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting them fall.

Maybe by now, everyone in the neighborhood was listening in, but she didn’t care. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hurt him like he had to her.

A shadow crossed his face. Guilt. He felt guilty.

Traitor. Friend.

“Look, I...I know this won’t mean anything to you, but I’m sorry.” Her eyes fixed themselves on anything but him. “I just—he’s using me, Annabeth. In everything.”

“And what am I supposed to say to that? Too bad? I’m sorry? This was your choice!”

“No, you don’t understand.” His entire body shook. Annabeth had never seen him so terrified, so unstable. He’d changed, she realized, from that confident hero she’d once looked up to. “I want to run, ‘Beth. Fuck everything. I can’t take it anymore. I want to—to go with you.”

He’d left her utterly disarmed, her armour melting away. Was Luke...actually switching sides?

“Go...with me?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” he gasped. “Gods, yes.”

“So you’re...having second thoughts? You want to go to camp?”

Hope blossomed in her heart, no longer the shriveled flower that it had once been.

Luke sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, through that grey streak. It was a symbol now, representing the two people she’d bled for the most.

“No,” he said, and that hope began to wilt once more. “You still don’t get it. I want to run, like the old days. Get away from all of this crap. From the Titans and the gods—everything. Just me and you, and we can finally be free.”

She laughed, water leaving her hope alone and escaping, running down her cheeks instead. “More like you don’t get it.”

“As if you knew even the slightest bit about what’s going on.”

“Wake up, Luke! This isn’t a fucking fantasy! People are counting on you—on me! And the old days are over! They’re over...because of you!”

“No, they’re over,” he insisted, “because of Thalia.”

“Please, Thalia made her choice—”

“Just as you’re doing now and just as I did before! Run with me, Annabeth, or let me die in the hands of Kronos. There is no in between. I wouldn’t leave you like Thalia did. You know Kronos controls me, you know the only way for me to escape him is to hide.”

She still shook her head. “No, no we have to stop him. We can’t just run like cowards, that’s not how it works! And I can’t leave Percy—”

“Ah.” His eyes blazed with a strange light, as though he’d found a missing puzzle piece. “So that’s what this is about. Percy .” He chuckled to himself. “He’s going to leave you in the end, you know that, right?”

Despite the dryness to his tone, Annabeth felt like his words were drowning her in an eternal pool of memories.

Worthless.

Freak.

Your mother didn't want you. Your father didn't, either.

And then…

A single choice shall end his days.

“You don’t know anything about Percy and me,” Annabeth seethed.

He sneered. “Oh, but I do. A little bird told me that you’re finally dating him. That he’s controlled every single thing about you since day one, leading you right to his trap.” His lips widened to a grin, watching her face. “Yes, I have spies. I’m sure you knew that already, though.”

A voice screamed in her head, that all he did was lie; that he was the one controlling her. But right now, nothing seemed logical, only that grin of his and the way it was crushing her garden of hope.

“You need me, Annabeth. More than you will ever know.”

Tears fell down her chin, swam in her eyes, distorting Luke. He stood there, silent, waiting for her to fall like prey to the arrow.

Yes. Go with him, rid yourself of responsibility.

No. Percy saved you from Luke. You love him, even if he might die.

Yes.

No.

Yes—

“There’s no way, Luke. After everything you’ve done...and now you’re asking me to leave the people I love? And no, Percy has never controlled me. Like Thalia did, hell, like you did— I made my choice. To stick up to him even when I know he might leave. Because I care for him, and he cares for me! Unlike you!”

He scoffed, moving closer to her. He could probably hear her thumping heart.

“Those are his words, not yours. Honestly, I thought you’d be better than this, Annabeth. Better than being with that bastard. Listening to him instead of me. We’ve been through so much together, have experienced more things than you and him will ever share. He wants me dead. He wants me to destroy our world by letting Kronos take over me.”

“You can still choose to side with us, Luke,” she begged, voice cracking. “It doesn't have to be this way!”

“Ah, choosing, choosing, ” he laughed, stooping to her eye level. She couldn’t escape, back against the door. “You see, Annabeth, with choices...sometimes...you don’t have one.”

She still held her knife; he was close enough for her to easily stab him with it. As though reading her thoughts, he stepped away from her, only for him to extend his arms. An invitation.

“Go on, do it. Fight me. Your beloved mother would approve, you know. Wise thing to do and all that. After all, this is the last chance you’ll get.”

She was silent, mouth parched, while her eyes rained down more and more tears. It was strange, the way he talked like he wouldn’t exist anymore. The way he implied that Kronos would do something to him.

Staring at him, openly waiting for her killing blow—she couldn’t do it, no matter how much she wanted to.

You loved him once, like he loved you. Or does he still love you?

No matter how hard she tried, her heart still held a part of him. Her knife slipped from her hand.

“I see,” he said. “You’re still that small, seven year-old girl. Weak and helpless.”

“Get out.”

He let out a breath. “For the record, you’ve just helped his plans stay in motion. When the world ends and crumbles at your feet, remember that you had your chance, and you didn’t take it.” He closed the distance between them again, only for her to shove him off.

“Get out, and don’t even dare touch me.”

He did listen to her, lowering one foot to the bottom step of the porch, but not before turning around, regarding her. Something like disgust brimmed in his eyes.

“This will all be your fault. You and siding with Percy Jackson. One day, he’ll be your undoing.”

“I said, GET OUT!”

“Annabeth? What happened?”

“Nothing, just...had a disagreement.”

“Was it someone from camp?” her stepmother asked.

Annabeth knew that Helen tried to make an effort with her nowadays, but she still didn’t feel like sharing anything. With anyone. Least of all her.

“Something like that,” she managed to mutter out, before she turned and dashed for the stairs.

She crashed in her bed, feeling the sobs already.

Stepping stone. What had he meant by that? Was Kronos going to kill him?

Suddenly her room seemed much too small for her. Shortness of breath. That’s what she felt.

The world might end and it will be your fault.

You could’ve killed Luke, once and for all, and saved Percy.

You could’ve—

She screamed into her pillow, deafening the sound. Deafening her cries, brutal and untamed. To her, it was never clear when she fell asleep that day. Only that, eventually, she did.

At first, she dreamed of the ocean. She’d always admired it from afar; it was the perfect work of art. Swirling colors that changed hues with the light. The ocean was the mirror of the sky, only more powerful. She knew this because she knew its offspring. She knew Percy.

He was there, standing atop dark, jagged rocks. They were black, a stark contrast to the blues and greens. His hair whipped around in the wind, though that was the only thing moving about him. His hair and nothing else. Then she realized that the sea wasn’t moving either. It didn’t take long for the wind to stop its whistling, as well.

She longed to run to him, to kiss him, to hug him...but she was a third-party spectator, drifting off into the sky as if her soul was unanchored to her body.

Meanwhile, the world held its breath.

Control, a voice whispered.

She tried to speak, but her lips wouldn’t move.

Control, it whispered again. That’s all he wants.

Percy chose that moment to look up. His eyes were dark, she could tell, even from her distance. Dark and green. Before she could so much as attempt to call his name, he dove into the mass of water, away from the rocks, and disappeared into the safety of the sea.

It is fatal. But it is his.

She turned. And there it was, that voice. She gasped when she saw the figure from which it was coming from. Luke. He was levitating just like her, in the middle of the ocean and sky. Only his eyes didn’t match the background. They were golden . Everything about him glowed, from his skin to that facial scar. His voice wasn’t his, not really. It sounded like rocks grinding, like rotten apples, like —

Luke … that face, stared down on her. Then the voice came, that horrible, rasping voice. His lips split into a smirk. “They don’t call flaws ‘fatal’ for nothing.”

She screamed, and everything disappeared

This time, her dream shifted to camp. She was sitting by the lake, her hair dripping wet. Luke was there, too. Normal Luke. The one who used to smile and ruffle her curls whenever she talked about architecture, the one who wore orange t-shirts and sandals and was looked up to as camp counselor. Next to him, she seemed much smaller, helpless. But it dawned on her that she felt this way because she was, in fact, much smaller than him.

This was a memory—when she was around nine, maybe.

“You know we can try again, right?” Luke was saying.

He was gentle when he dragged her into his arms and he was gentle when he held her there, keeping her warm.

“The naiads tried to drown me,” she said, sniffling. “I’m not swimming again. Not in a million years.”

“I thought you wanted to be the best swimmer at camp?”

His eyes were blue, she noted; they matched the calm waters of the lake. Normal blue and normal Luke. Just as it always should’ve been.

She looked away, arms crossed.

“Irene was right. Athena doesn’t belong in the water.”

“Hmm. Maybe Athena doesn’t. But you aren’t Athena. You’re Annabeth, and you can do anything.”

“Tell that to the naiads,” she grumbled.

He smiled, making his eyes crinkle. “I did. And they agreed to let you be. I do have some charm, you know.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “The ladies can’t resist.”

She shoved him, grimacing. “Yuck!”

“Hey, girls love it! Now, come on.” He stood, and in he went to the canoe lake, disrupting the peace of the smooth water and splashing her everywhere. Holding his arms up, he signaled for her to jump as well.

She shook her head at him.

“Aw, come on! Don’t be scared, ‘Beth! I won’t let go of you. I won’t let you drown.”

“…Promise?”

“Promise.”

She didn’t need to hesitate anymore; all she did was jump into his waiting arms.

I won’t let go of you.

I won’t let you drown.

But he did. Time was cruel; no wonder Kronos wished for a war, for revenge. Time brought change and destruction. Birth and death. It shriveled things and turned them to dust. Luke may have loved her once, but Time broke them both apart into tiny shards of glass.

School was on the farthest corner of her mind the next day. She woke to the feverish sun sneaking through her pale curtains. Immediately, she wanted nothing but to curl under the covers. To melt into them like candle wax until no one remembered her. Or better yet, so that everyone would grieve. So that they would look for her in every corner of the world but never find a single trace. She’d be a legend, a strange happenstance from that past.

“Ah, yes. Annabeth Chase. The girl who vanished and shook the world with her mystery.”

Nothing like that happened. Though she did stumble into the bathroom from the nausea, only for her stomach to find nothing but water. She dry heaved and cried, tremors running up and down her body. She must’ve collapsed—lost her balance—because for a while, she laid there, on the cool bathroom tiles and staring at the wooden ceiling like some discarded doll.

Her father found her in that state. He rushed to her, wrapping her in his arms like she was five years old all over again and tucking her in bed.

Her eyes fluttered open a few times, catching Frederick’s wrinkled forehead and wrinkled eyes. He was worried. Concerned. She wasn’t going to lie: that was a nice change.

“—A fever,” he said. She didn’t hear the rest.

Helen said something in response. Annabeth couldn’t focus on that, either.

“I’ll stay by her bedside until she wakes up. Maybe that’ll help,” her father said.

I should be sick more often, she thought, then drifted off to sleep.

Hellish nightmares followed her there. Some were of Percy, burning alive. Others were of Luke, his eyes golden. Once in a while, she’d wake up, only to feel her eyes weigh down on her face. All those times, she’d have no choice but to welcome her nightmares again.

Hours or years or days passed before she could manage to be awake fully. The sound of a typing computer lulled her brain, but she had a mission; she wouldn’t let her mind slip away. She craned her neck to where the clicks and clacks echoed from, blinking a few times in the process.

There sat her dad, on her desk chair.

“Dad?” she croaked.

He turned, then beamed once he saw her fully awake.

“Hey, sweetheart. How’re you feeling?”

“Mm. Better.” She yawned, sitting up fully. “How long was I out?”

Frederick wheeled his chair toward her, arms resting on his thighs and brows furrowed. “Since yesterday morning.” He held his palm out and touched her forehead, murmuring, “Fever’s gone, at least. We should take you to a doctor, though, now that you’re awake.”

“No, wait. Dad. I’m not—”

“You’re not sick?” he finished for her, eyebrows raised. “The evidence presented in front of me says otherwise.”

“Yeah, I know, but…I was fine before, and this happened after I saw…”

“Your friend?”

“I mean, he’s not—” But she stopped herself before she could say, ‘ he’s not my friend.’ Instead she nodded and said softly, “Luke, yeah.”

Frederick handed her a glass of water, and she drank, slowly and carefully.

“I don’t pretend to understand everything going on with this…second titanomachy,” her dad said. “But I…I’m worried, Annabeth.”

Why did his visit make you sick? What is going on?

She knew that’s what he meant to ask. But the comment was left unsaid, a strange buzzing filling into the after-pause.

She shrugged. “Probably the nightmares. Sometimes that can happen, just never…to this extent, I guess.”

She watched him purse his lips. He knew almost nothing about her, even if, these days, he tried. He tried, but she still had half of a goddess. It was a part of her that he would never fully see, hidden away from his eyes in case it ever became a nuisance, a disturbance.

Recovery came quickly. Nevertheless, she missed half a week of school. She made sure to study and email her teachers—finish everything she had to finish—but really, that was just an excuse to not think about anything else.

Like Percy, for one.

What Luke had told her stayed in the shadows of her days. Her dreams, too—as well as her strange illness. Or at least the memory of it. She hadn’t lied to her dad when she’d said that dreams affected her in more ways than one, but this was a new record.

A god was trying to warn her of something. Perhaps it was Kronos’ doing, even. In any case, the dreams had taken a toll on her.

Percy and Luke and everything had taken a toll on her.

How much truth had been shown in her dreams?

Were they prophetic? What would happen to Luke with those unnerving, glowing eyes?

He’d talked in a voice that wasn’t his—an ancient voice—warning about Percy and control.

They don’t call flaws ‘fatal’ for nothing.

The last time she and Percy talked about fatal flaws, neither of them knew what his flaw was. Yours is hubris. Carrying the world on your shoulders feels easy, doesn’t it?

But what was Percy’s? Could it really be…

There was this terrible feeling, a tightening in her chest.

Suddenly, she was aware of an incoming IM. The air in front of her shimmered like water. Percy. Fuck. Without thinking, she swatted at the mist with her hands, clearing it away before it could form into the image of her boyfriend.

That’s when she realized: Percy couldn’t see her like this. He knew her too well; he would ask questions and she’d have no choice but to answer. For some reason, she couldn’t trust herself to bring up Luke in front of him. To bring up her dreams.

In came another call. With a swish of her arm, it disappeared again.

She could imagine Percy’s confused expression as he sat on his bed, wondering why his girlfriend had deliberately decided not to answer. So she stumbled over to her desk and opened her laptop. She unlocked her email and typed:

I’m sorry Perce. I was going to tell you that I can’t answer because my cousin Magnus is in town. He’s with me in my room at the moment. Didn’t want to freak him out lol. Also he’ll stay here for a bit. Probably until June. I hope it doesn’t bother you so much but I think that we should communicate via mail. Less risky and all that haha. So yeah I hope you’re well and say hi to Sally for me <3

Your gf,

Annabeth :)

She clicked send.

Gods, she hated herself sometimes.

Coward, Luke’s voice taunted, in her mind.

“Shut up,” she muttered.

But it was the truth. She couldn’t even face her boyfriend. Couldn’t even tell him about what was on her mind.

You think that he might leave, once he sees how weak you are. You couldn’t even see your oldest friend without it taking a physical toll.

She swatted those thoughts away like she did with Percy’s Iris Messages, but it was no use. They were here to stay, drawn with permanent markers in her brain.

Percy replied right away. He told her that it was fine—that not to worry. It would only be a month until they saw each other in person, anyway.

See Percy. After all this time.

They’d planned that, too. Annabeth would take a detour to New York City before arriving at camp, and they’d spend the afternoon at the movies like a normal teenage couple before they had to act the complete opposite of that.

A small, horrible part of her was glad that she’d lied to him. That she could fall on the excuse of her cousin Magnus—never mind that she saw him last when she was seven and had no news of him since then.

She had to, though, she had to lie to protect him from herself. So she curled up in her bed and waited for June.

#pjo fic #percy jackson fanfiction #percabeth fic #percabeth #blood tw #look mom i can write #there lol

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pinkrae · 3 years

Text

Beyond the War | Chapter 1

Setting: DamiRae, Post!Apokolips War, new timeline AU

Inspired by: THIS Comic by chromium7sky and all the Super!Rae fanart xD

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“Do we know that this will work for sure?”

“It’ll work.” Violet eyes looked into green before the gaze was averted, letting a sigh of concern leave the young man’s lips. There were many uncertainties, many questions lingering in the air. As it was expected after everything they had gone through. They’ve had one hell of a time, after all. But there was something else, too.

“Would you rather have the world as it is right now?” She then asked again after a moment, placing her hand over his and bringing his eyes back to her.

“I- Of course not,” he stuttered and took a quick look at the people- the survivors around them before locking his eyes with hers once more. “I just- We only just got each other back. I don’t want to lose you again.” His brows furrowed, he tried his best to hide the immense pain in his chest that he felt just thinking about it. But he knew she felt it regardless. She always did. A sigh escaped her lips as well.

“I know,” she mumbled and looked over at the water before them, her lips curling into a sad smile. “But- We found each other in this timeline. I’m sure we can find each other again in another.”

He looked at her in somewhat of an awe and surprise of how lightly she seemed to take the situation at hand and before he even knew it, he released an incredulous chuckle.

“How do you know that?”

“I don’t.” A simple shrug and a gentle squeeze on his hand as she could see Flash preparing to start his run from the corner of her eyes. “All I can do is hope.”

And a whoosh sound went past them. That’s how they all knew these were their last moments together like this and it brought a tear in her eyes. As fucked up as the world turned out to be, she had loved so much of it. She found friends, found family, she found love. And all of that would be gone in a blink of an eye. Even if it was for a better future, she couldn’t help but to feel sad about losing all the positives that she had gained during her stay here.

“Raven-” his voice brought her back from her thoughts and she looked at him teary-eyed, noticing the sadness in his own eyes as well- “what if we can’t find each other in the new timeline? This new- Flashpoint?” The thought of her not being able to find him pained her to the point that it felt like her heart had just gotten pierced by a dagger, but she had to remain hopeful. She had to.

“Dum spiro spero, Damian,” the girl spoke through her tears and lifted her free hand to caress his cheek. “While I breathe, I hope.”

“Dum spiro spero,” he repeated in a whisper in an almost desperate thought that speaking those words out loud would help to make it come true and slowly leaned in until their lips touched for their first and their last kiss in this timeline as the world around them slowly disappeared in a bright light…

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Deep breath…

Be calm…

You can do it…

Violet eyes slowly opened as she took in the scenery before her. It was definitely much different than Metropolis. Darker. More grim. Filled with so many negative emotions. Fear, hatred, greed… She hadn’t arrived too long ago and she already hated being here. But she had set her mind on doing this and, well, she was already here, so there was no backing down now. Sporting the signature look of her family, Raven roamed about along the rooftops of this godforsaken city in hopes of attracting the kind of attention she came here for. And she didn’t have to wander around for too long before she heard that very familiar deep voice behind her.

“You’re far away from home, kid.”

She wasn’t startled or afraid of the man in the slightest, so she turned around to face him as if she had expected him.

“I didn’t know how else to contact you,” the girl responded confidently.

Sure, he wasn’t the friendliest of superheroes she knew. In fact, most people, sometimes even his own friends, were afraid of him. And while, yes, he did give off this dreadful vibe, Raven was more- curious. There was a sense of familiarity with him and she felt comfortable enough around him.

“Well- Not without Superman finding out about it, anyway,” she added in once his silence told her that her response wasn’t extensive enough. Of course, there were other ways to contact Batman. But not without someone else’s help. Which is exactly what she didn’t need this time.

“Why are you here then?” Brief with his words, as always, the masked vigilante stepped out of the darker corner of the rooftop.

And that’s when she froze for a moment. Like she hadn’t thought of even getting this far. Suddenly doubting if it had been a good idea to come here after all. Was this the right thing to do? Behind Clark’s back? Not telling anyone? Not trying a different alternative and just going straight to Batman? Who was currently looking right at her, expecting an answer-

“I- I wanted to ask for your help in finding someone,” Raven stammered a bit at first, but found her confidence again towards the end of her sentence.

“There are legal ways to do that.”

“Not for someone who’s got no legal records on the entire planet,” she was quick to respond, but stopped for a brief moment before elaborating with a sigh. “Look, all I got is a fake ID and fake adoption papers. As far as the law is concerned, I didn’t exist until I was fourteen. And even for someone who was born on Earth and dropped at an orphanage as an infant, it could take years to- to find your actual family, so… Please. All I want is a chance.”

Batman looked intently at her, putting the puzzle pieces together the more she spoke. He didn’t say anything- did he ever?- only hummed in thought. Sure, he could ask her why she didn’t just go to Clark and Lois for this. They were renowned reporters, very much capable of helping her. But she had made it clear that she didn’t want Clark to know she was even in Gotham right now, meaning she probably didn’t want them to know anything at all about this. A foster child looking for their blood related family not wanting to tell their foster family about it to not hurt their feelings? He’d seen that all too many times before. Some with less happy endings than others.

“You’ve been on Earth for how many years? Why now?” His raspy voice then finally broke the silence, startling her just a little bit. Of course, she had expected a question like that to pop up. But truth to be told, she had no solid answer for it. Or, what could be considered a solid answer, anyway. There were many things she could tell him in response. That she wanted to know if she had any blood relatives on Earth at all. That her mother had been an adopted child herself and she wanted to do this for her. Or that she could never go back to Azarath because it got destroyed and she missed her mother, even though they were never truly allowed to have a proper mother-daughter relationship, so she was seeking a way to somehow connect with her through others of her bloodline. Or that there was just something constantly missing in her life and she felt like she was always searching for something- someone, not even knowing what or who that was, so she was hoping that finding family would perhaps quench this feeling. But- It was all so complicated, even for her.

“I just want to know.” That was a simpler answer.

Raven shrugged and hid her hands behind her back, thinking for a brief moment as her gaze grew distant, not focusing on anything in particular. “I’d like to think that getting to know both sides of my family would do me good.”

A part of that was true, too. All she ever really was recognized as by those who didn’t know her was the demon’s daughter. A hellspawn, born to an interdimensional beast that almost destroyed this world just like he had done with countless others, had her adoptive family and the heroes of Earth not intervened and helped her stop him. Having a nice, quiet, normal family somewhere sounded nice sometimes. But again, it wasn’t the main reason.

The Bat’s “hm” almost sounded like a growl as he contemplated the sincerity of Raven’s explanation, unsure if he should trust it or not. Well, she didn’t blame him for not trusting her. Not a lot of people did. Her eyes returned to observing the masked man before her in anticipation of his response. Luckily, however, she didn’t have to wait for too long. Glancing sideways for a second as if hearing something, he looked back to her and swiftly turned around.

“Follow me,” he said as he started making his way to the edge of the roof. “It’s not wise to parade around Gotham with that “S” on your chest.”

“It’s- not an “S”...” The girl mumbled quietly under her nose, but quickly levitated after him as the two of them got down into one of the many dark alleyways where he’d hidden the Batmobile. It was for the best not to argue with him since he seemed like having agreed to her plea, even if he didn’t outright say it.

It wasn’t a no either.

---------------

FF.net link || AO3 link

#damirae #fanfic #fanfiction #Damian Wayne #super raven #super rae #raven #beyond the war #post!apokolips #I WROTE A THING AGAIN #I am SO EXCITED for this one #hope you enjoy!#{{ 👋 written by me }}

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mermaidxatxheart · 4 years

Text

The Love Letter

Alright. This is my submission for @heli0s-writes‘ 2k challenge. Congratulations, babe! you deserve all the love!

Prompt: Dum Spiro Spero (While I breathe, I hope.)

This was probably the easiest thing I’ve ever written.

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Word Count: 1384

Warnings: general sadness? swearing but surprisingly not a lot.

Summary: Bucky’s just gotten back from his time in the POW camp and a couple missions with Steve. He’s starting to wonder what he’s still doing there, instead of being home with you.

Bucky’s bones ache. Everything hurts. His head is pounding, his teeth ache in their sockets, Christ, his fucking eyes hurt.

The camp is loud as he makes his way from the mess hall tent towards his makeshift bunk. He just finished eating with Steve, new Steve, not the short, scrawny and sickly punk he’s known his whole life. No, this Steve could probably kick his ass, too, while fending off three other guys.

Idiot.

But in a way, he’s glad. He’s glad Steve is healthy and strong now, he won’t have to spend so much time worrying about him. But he’s not happy he’s over here in the middle of this shit.

No, he never wanted that for his best friend.

He pauses along the muddy path, stepping out of the way of the foot traffic as he pushes an unlit cigarette between his chapped lips.

Fuck, he wants to go home. Wants to see his girl, hold you in his arms and dance in your living room, holding you close. He misses the way he can feel your heartbeat against his chest when he does. Your light breath on his neck, your sweet voice when you tell him how much you love him.

His arms still remember the way you feel, the exact shape you take when you’re pressed against him. He could do it now, encase the empty space, and if by some miracle you showed up, you’d fit perfectly in it.

He sniffles slightly as he raises the lighter to the end of the cigarette, and with shaking hands, lights it. He takes that first drag, the taste burning his tongue, you’d hate that he’s smoking. Always telling him that it’s gonna kill him someday.

If the war doesn’t do that first.

He makes a silent promise to you, that when he gets home, when he survives this, he’ll quit just for you.

“Hey, Sarge!” One of the ladies shouts from across the path. He looks up, squinting slightly to make out a face in the dim tent. Heather, she’s been flirting with him since day one. Just something to pass the time, honey. Not much else to do ‘round here, except make handsome men blush.

She waves him over and he nods reluctantly. He just wants to go lay down, relax his bones before Steve comes up with some terrible idea, again.

He waits for a break before stepping across the muddy road, the squelching of his boots in the mud making his hair stand on end. He hates it. Misses New York, misses concrete and solidness under his feet, misses the smell of the city, dirty and oppressive.

There’s too much clean air out here, marred by blood and gun powder. He’d never be able to enjoy the countryside, not after this.

“Hey, Sarge. Glad you made it back.” She says as he ducks under the tent flap.

“Me, too.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Did ya need me for somethin’, doll?”

“Always in a rush, you men. Can’t even take time to enjoy the pretty scenery.” She admonishes with a smile.

“Darlin’, you have men droppin’ by here all day long to flirt with ya. You don’t need a putz like me to tell ya how pretty you are.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“Maybe they’re not the right men, Barnes.” She turns and rummages through a stack of envelopes. “Somethin’ came for ya while you were... away. It’s due to get shipped back, but since you’re here now, I figure you should have it.” She turns around, holding up a square envelope with elegant scrawl on it.

Bucky’s heart skips a beat as he realizes it’s from you. “Thanks, Heather.” He says, reaching for it.

“She’s a lucky gal.” She says softly.

“Not so sure about that. Think you got it the wrong way ‘round.”

She places the envelope in his hand and he takes it and her fingers, lifting her hand to his mouth. “Thanks for always bein’ so kind.” He says before letting her go and turning from the tent.

He walks quicker now, more determined to reach his destination. He stubs out the lit end of his forgotten smoke and settles on his cot. His heart is pounding as he looks over every inch of the paper.

It smells like you. His eyes water a little as the ache in his chest is both soothed by your perfume and made worse by the distance. He holds the paper to his nose and inhaled deeply, your perfect face conjured behind his eyelids.

The muck, the pain, the loud conversations and noisy jeeps all fade away. He’s left with his last memory of you, at the train station. You hugged him so tightly he thought a rib would break. You tried desperately and failed miserably not to cry. You kissed him repeatedly, ignoring the curious stares of the people around you because fuck them. He didn’t stop you, in fact, he held you closer. He kissed you like it was the last one you would ever have, fingers curled into the back of your dress.

But also a promise. That while he has breath in his body, he has hope that he’ll come back to you.

You let out an ugly sob when he told you that, and he couldn’t stop the smile. Stop laughing at me, Bucky.

He lets out a sigh and carefully opens the envelope, trying his best not to rip it to shreds. Inside are small strips of paper, dotted with oil stains. Now he realizes why it still smells like you, his clever girl. He leaves the perfume-sprayed papers inside so he doesn’t lose them and opens your letter.

Hey, handsome.

I never know how to start. Small talk, in light of everything just seems stupid. So, I think I’ll start off with: I miss you. I miss you so much that it hurts deep in my bones.

I didn’t know it was possible to miss another human this much, but I feel like you’ve taken half of me with you.

I hope you’re doing alright over there. I hear that Europe is beautiful, but I suppose not the parts you’re seeing. I’ve had an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach for weeks and I just know it has something to do with you.

I know you can’t tell me where you are or what you’re doing, but if you could just let me know that you’re okay somehow, I would really feel better.

My Latin class is growing well. I learned something in honor of you, and I remind myself of it every day that you’re gone.

Dum spiro spero. While I breathe, I hope.

That’s what you said to me the day you left, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. I like it and I think it suits us.

I won’t keep you much longer. But just know that I love you with my whole heart, James Buchanan Barnes. No matter where you are, no matter what you’re doing, I’m thinking of you and missing you terribly. It might not help, but I’m home, waiting for you. Waiting for you to bring my heart, my other half back to me.

Stay safe, my love.

Dum spiro spero.

Forever yours.

Bucky closes his eyes and presses the letter to his chest. What did he do to deserve such an amazing dame? This is exactly what he needs to help him keep going. A reminder of what he’s fighting for.

“Buck, we’re heading out.” Dugan’s voice says from the end of his cot.

Bucky groans and cracks an eye open, looking at the big man. “Yeah, alright.” He folds the letter neatly, storing it in the small box with the others in his trunk. His little collection of you to keep with him.

He grabs his blue jacket, zipping it up and picks up his sniper rifle. “How many more of these stupid facilities can they possibly have?” He sighs, following Dugan out. He glances back at his trunk, thinking you’re probably right.

Dum spiro spero.

While he can breathe and fight for his life, he’s going to have hope that he can make it back to you.

Everything Tag List:

@everythingisoverrated @dsakita @shreddedparchment @bitsandbobsandstuff @after-avenging-hours @alexblrus @thinkingsofamadwoman @i-dont-want-to-be-called @thefridgeismybestie @fortheloveofallthatsholy @crazychaotic @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety @redstarstan @justreadingfics @themistsofmyavalon @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @wkemeup @thiccbinch @glide-thru @moli1497 @ellaenchanted91 @part-time-patronus @janeyboo @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @thirstybitchqueen @xxloki81xx @stuckonjbbarnes @browngirlmagic @geeksareunique @nicoleplacee @lexshead @gambitsqueen @sebbbystaaan @lokisironthrone

#heli0s2kwriting #mermaidxatxheart-writes #Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x reader #romance #1940s!bucky #writing challenge

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yridenergyridenergy · 4 years

Note

Hello there! If you have some time to spare; I would be very interested in hearing your opinion in each album of Dir en grey so far.. or what they make you feel like etc etc.. If you got the time ;)

The Insulated World

If you try karaoke with this album, you quickly notice that the MAJORITY of the lines are structured long and you always run out of breath. Like you are spent and out of oxygen or life after each. It's tasking on the abdos, painful no matter whether the song is constituted of screaming or is a 'ballad'. Whether it is by screaming the end to expulse the last bit of breath or transitioning from one sentence to the other for as long as there is still air in your lungs, Kyo orchestrated these lyrics in a manner that demonstrates his meaning, which will bring him to the brink of death and that he wishes to use all ounces of his existence to transmit. "Until my very last breath". With this album, it helped that I worked on posting the lyrics and stuff to incorporate them into my understanding from the start. So, there is no escaping that this is the "I hate myself" album. But this loop of ending the last song the same way as the beginning of the first song – I scream therefore I live – is genius. Globally, the tone isn't one void of hope.

Another particularity with this album, I think, is the "spitting" going on. The 'dare' sounding like 'zare' in Ningen wo Kaburu for instance isn't just a Kyoto accent: you can hear the lack of restraint, the raw and unfiltered loathing that can't warrant one second spared to collect the saliva properly in the mouth. But it's not screamed as much, everything has been very reflected.

Musically, I have found myself detecting melodies that are extremely familiar to ARCHE and Dum Spiro Spero ever since their release. That was usually on the first couple of listening sessions though, so I would have difficulty pointing them out now, but it feels like the raw sound is not as unique as it used to be. Perhaps just the band thinking about giving themselves a break on stage by thinking about how difficult things could be to play and keep in mind if they want to move around or interact with the fans.

THE MARROW OF A BONE

Some sorrow, but an orgy of frustration. No care for how long, just short bursts of anger stringed one after the other. That being said, there are some interesting guitar melodies among everything using that dirty, somber tuning, even though Shinya's track does not demonstrate his independent streak. Overall, listening to this album, I develop a vision of dwindling, swirling pieces of flesh exposing a head that exploded open out of sheer intellectual anger? Perhaps because of the majorly English lyrics which, coming from a Japanese, means that there was more effort put into them to reach a wider range of recipients. There was too much contained but not just in the heart – like the person tried to contain it and reason with those feelings, however it became overbearing and transcended all restraints of the mind.

UROBOROS

Before even realizing that that was the intended world view featured in the ultra deluxe release whatever, from the first few songs I was really imagining a desolated landscape. A very somber one. Throughout the album, it feels like you navigate from one area to the other in this world, encountering deserts but also destroyed cities and even living beings, like demons. And yet, at the end there is a twist of hope, it seems. Overall, UROBOROS sounds so sophisticated, the melodies are starting to be elegant while dirty and low. But, I hadn't noticed before, you can discern some melodies following the lyrics very closely like in all of the rest of the music produced in the world. Still, this album really has Shinya shining with his truly unique, genius drumming. If you don't know what I am talking about, watch him or an amateur drummer playing GLASS SKIN. To finish, is it just me or does this album's guitar riffs sound very "piratey"? In addition to the dry, post-catastrophic land, there is some personality in the guitars that my mind associates to pirates for some reason... Well, UROBOROS is very beautiful and goodness, I love Tue Madsen's mixing.

VULGAR

This album is ominous but exudes confidence. There is something daring about the individuality of the songs that is fully assumed and goes in your face. The music is more repetitive than in most Dir en grey albums, but the heavy riffs are catchy and there is a plurality of sounds regardless. With this album, I get reminded that Kyo's voice is rather unique in the Japanese music scene for not being as low as the average singer. I love the UGHs throughout the album. It's very lyrics-heavy, each song is an individual story for sure.

Six Ugly

Again, the music can be repetitive but there are some very good beats and sound experimentation. In general, this mini-album gives me the sense of a renegade teen expressing madness both as frustration but also as some delusion. It's slightly on the crazy side hah. The way it ends is representative: a scream followed shortly by a laugh.

GAUZE

As much as I was approaching this album now with some resentment due to those people on Twitter who hold it as the sole album worth mentioning in all of Dir en grey's history, damn this was a very, very solid debut album (MISSA tends to be overlooked hah). It feels like a train, both as a continuous, relentless ride but also a train hitting you head on. The music can get very repetitive at times, but there are such good riffs too. The tone of the singing throughout most of the album is "revendicateur" (no real equivalence in English), respectful but very powerful regardless. There are already very interesting experimentations with the voice at this early stage.

MISSA

How did Shinya even go from such standard, non-varied drumming skills to his genius and unique performance of these days... Still, much better than a lot of other stuff I hear on today's radio or from the past, and especially from ANY other visual kei/J-rock band of that era. I listened to Aoi Tsuki all the time before hah. There is something insolent about the sound of the guitars in this album. The repetitiveness and the lyrics that are dragged on make this a more contemplative work.

(As far as semi-albums go... Do you consider The Unraveling one? AH don't get me started on this one, my love is absolute! 改-KAI- is just remixes though...)

Kisou

Like I am witnessing a very particular ceremony. There is demonic mixed with frustration and sadness. There are some highly powerful atmospheres in the songs on this album, like Bottom of the death valley, Gyakujou Tannou Keloid Milk and Karasu. It's vicious, it keeps me transfixed. The transitional tunes (shinsou) are so nice to have, they really transport you from one mood to another.

Withering to death.

Ah this is when I discovered Dir en grey. THE FINAL had been enough to trigger the rest of this past decade+. This whole album grips my heart and elevates it, deepening the trend of exuding all that's inside. And hey, having watched these songs live a few times, they definitely have that 'dancey' vibe. There is a remarkable trace of maturity in this album from all members and every song is very unique. Ending with Kodou too... All in all, a very relatable work, like everything that followed.

ARCHE

Du Shinya génial tout craché. This album wholly demonstrates Shinya's talent, the rolling and so diverse drums. Overall throughout this album, the bass and drum tracks are very, very appreciable. And the guitars pave some amazing, fantasist sonorities. ARCHE, to me, is desolation but, primordially, HOPE. It feels like the sadness is acknowledged but the energy of this album possesses me, courses through my veins and what unfolds is an encouragement to take control and turn your gaze forward. When a closed one passed away, "What now?" from Chain Repulsion and other segments of the songs on this album surfaced in my mind. When the dearest soul in my life passed away, in the end, this album is what I turned to in order to assimilate the situation, pour it out and still leave with a sliver of hope.

My initial thoughts about ARCHE when it came out was that the songs were universes that were cut short prior to being fully fleshed out. Almost a "coït interrompu". Now, I deeply appreciate them as they are, but indeed each tune is a world of its own, so immensely unique. There is something very stubborn about some of the songs too, like "I won't let you ignore what happened, I'll make sure of that". Seize the reins.

Dum Spiro Spero

I get the image of one horribly gigantic and tenebrous snake sliding across the ground, fangs bared but discrete, prowling. There is something difficult to seize about these songs, like they are up there on a pedestal trying to lure me in with fantasy golden linings... Otherwise, I am quite biased by a review I had read, which described this album as the opening of the gates of hell, letting loose all that it had imprisoned. I really agree with this depiction. The sounds on this album are very bewitching, it's as if there was magic involved and many of the songs sport twists and turns, as though to pull the listener into various tunnels up and down in something that you are not too sure you want to partake in.

MACABRE

Honestly I am relieved when I remember that this came right after GAUZE, not Kisou. Macabre's content is definitely very raw and overall, the sounds are very constant. It feels like a storyteller album, where things are expressed and you are entranced, but as far as relating to the stories being told... Weird things are going on sometimes hah. What is sure is that, no matter the range of emotions, they are powerful. There is little restraint to this intensity and madness. What it starts, it ends. And this album gave us the likes of Wake, a fist in and of itself.

And yet, throughout these two decades, there is an unmistakable constant of five men producing unique rhythms that aren't bound by even one another and yet come together as one to form a plethora of the most genuine expressions of pain, sadness, anger and, still, hope. Which is why I say that my favourite album is all of them.

I would be very interested in reading other fans’ impressions of each album too, and curious to know if anybody agrees with my thoughts on them. Let’s open a discussion!

#thanks for the trip #anon #ask #albums #opinion #Dir en grey #京 #Kyo #Die #Shinya #Toshiya #Kaoru #薫

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littlemissagrafina · 5 years

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Tattooed!Peter Prompt

Tony and everyone finds out Peter has tattoos.

Usually his tattoos are covered by his shirts (bonus if he hasn't told Tony because he's nervous for Tony's reaction) but he forgets that he has them and one day there's a big family get together with all the avengers, Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, May Happy, ect and it's a hot summer day so he has to take his shirt off. Cue the reactions or everybody.

I was also hoping for specific tattoos as well.

Tattoos: an ink stripe tattoo on forearm for each person he has loved who has passed away, a semicolon on the inside of his wrist, May's favourite flower behind his ear, spider under his foot (a nod to Tom Holland), arc reactor on the inside of his bicep,

Dum spiro spero (While I breath, I hope) on his rib cage, and 'Be brave' in Ben's handwriting on his hip (from a letter Ben wrote to Peter after Skip Wescott)

#marvel #irondad #peter parker #tattoos

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grimdarkandhandsome · 4 years

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USA State Mottos, Ranked

Epistemic status: Silly post.

Yesterday i realized the 50 states of the US had eclectic and delightful mottos. I’ve ranked them for you from coolest to uncoolest.

1: Ad astra per aspera - Kansas

To the stars through difficulties. This is beautiful and it looks great written out. I am confident Kansas will be the state closest to the stars (after resolving difficulties).

2: Salus populi suprema lex esto - Missouri

Let the welfare of the people be the supreme law. It sounds great, it’s grand, it’s bold, and it’s a wonderful priority.

3: Regnat populus - Arkansas

The people rule. I imagine a time traveler approaching Emperor Nero and saying, ‘I have two words for you....’

4: Labor omnia vincit - Oklahoma

Labor conquers all things. It’s a great attitude towards self-improvement, and i think more phrases should end in omnia vincit.

5: Sic semper tyrannis - Virginia

Thus always to tyrants. The flag clarifies the situation by showing a emperor being stabbed. This is delightfully overaggressive when placed next to Washington’s motto.

6: Excelsior - New York

Ever upward. A nice-sounding word. Definitely sounds like a sword.

7: Esse quam videri - North Carolina

To be, rather than to seem. A pretty cool choice of priority. Not like those videri states with their big gold cufflinks.

8: Dum spiro spero - South Carolina

While I breathe, I hope. A harmonious phrase that celebrates the indefatigable human potential for improvement.

9: Equality before the law - Nebraska

Choosing English instead of a stylish foreign language is a missed opportunity to show off. But this phrase gets better the more you repeat it. I like to imagine that when Nebraskans are cornered by journalists they just bark ‘Equality before the law!’ and close ranks.

10: Ua mau ke ea o ka ʻāina i ka pono - Hawaii

The life of the land is perpetuated in righteousness. It’s in a local language, it’s very beautiful written out, it outlines a plan to benefit the entire ecosystem, and it’s just generally quite radiant.

11: Alis volat propriis - Oregon

She flies with her own wings. Very cool sentiment. Only marked down because the words don’t look quite as cool as omnia does.

12: Dirigo - Maine

I lead. It’s terse, it’s taut, it’s claiming victory out of nowhere, it’s Maine.

13: Live Free or Die - New Hampshire

Penalty for using boring English, but bonus for being the only state to realize you can append ‘or Die’ to any motto.

14: Audemus jura nostra defendere - Alabama

We dare defend our rights! Bonus for being the only state to realize you can prepend Audemus to any motto.

15: Serit ut alteri saeclo prosit - North Dakota

One sows for the benefit of another age. Yes, i know, it kindof sounds like ‘Search for the altered sequin among the prosaic’, but the meaning is quite cool. Radical long-game altruism.

16: Si quaeris peninsulam amoenam circumspice - Michigan

If you seek a pleasant peninsula, look about you. What??

17: Eureka - California

I have found it. A counterpoint to Maine’s Dirigo, and a geographical counterpoint as well.

18: Equal Rights - Wyoming

A wonderful priority, and charmingly bald phrasing.

19: Alki - Washington

By and by. This is Chinook, apparently. Washington is apparently the opposite of Alabama, who dares to defend.

20: Crescit eundo - New Mexico

It grows as it goes. I don’t like it as much as Ad astra per aspera, but i decided to rank all improvement mottos evenhandedly to avoid bias from the order i read them in.

21: Esto perpetua - Idaho

Let it be perpetual. It is quite verbally beautiful and it captures what we were all thinking - Let Idaho be the same forever!

22: Friendship - Texas

Could be phrased more stylishly, but it really is a rather nice motto.

23: Under God the people rule - South Dakota

I imagine a South Dakotan time traveler in 1300 CE pulling her hair and saying, ‘Oh my gosh, it’s not that hard, how many times to i have to explain the hierarchy?’

24: Montani semper liberi - West Virginia

Mountaineers are always free. Cheeky!

25: Deo gratiam habeamus - Kentucky

Let us be grateful to God. Very resonant words. Less focused on improvement and more remarking on the fact we made it this far.

26: State sovereignty, national union - Illinois

I know it’s confusing, but we put it in the motto and eventually you’ll get used to the concept. What a nerdy motto!

27: Nil sine numine - Colorado

Nothing without Providence. What beautiful and assonant words. A theme of several states is ‘The big thing is totally paramount, but the small thing is also cool just in a secondary sort of way.’

28: Forward - Wisconsin

In its troughs and at new peaks, Wisconsin always wants to do better :)

29: Industry - Utah

I didn’t know that. But it is a cool attitude. They say that most domains of human endeavor require hard work first of all.

30: Wisdom, Justice, Moderation - Georgia

I just think it’s a little boring. But i like prioritizing wisdom.

31: Virtue, liberty, and independence - Pennsylvania

The last two are, like, the same thing.

32: Qui transtulit sustinet - Connecticut

He who transplanted sustains. Apparently this is a phrase from the Vulgate Bible. I’m guessing the Europeans are the ones who transplanted. I like the sonics but i’m not convinced on the sentiment.

33: Fatti maschii, parole femine - Maryland

Strong deeds, gentle words. Note: I found that translation on Wikipedia and i don’t speak Latin so i don’t know if it’s the best one. I think this motto sounds like a humorously awkward compromise and probably seemed offensive from a 1800s-gender perspective as well as from a modern gender perspective.

34: With God, all things are possible - Ohio

Ohions are optimists whereas Coloradons are pessimists.

35: Liberty and prosperity - New Jersey

Tedious ‘list of nice things’ format, but i kindof like looking at New Jersey as a Utopian El Dorado.

36: Ense petit placidam sub libertate quietem - Massachusetts

By the sword we seek peace, but peace only under liberty. Sir, can you lower your sword and read me those criteria again?

37: Hope - Rhode Island

Inferior version of Dum spiro spero, but pleasantly minimal.

38: All For Our Country - Nevada

Typical Nevadan slogan, a people known for their radical push for big government and federal power.

39: Agriculture & Commerce - Tennessee

Not really cool enough for a crowd to shout in unison with their hands over their hearts. But at least it celebrates feeding the people i guess.

40: Ditat Deus - Arizona

God enriches. A weird mix of 100% religious and very lukewarm. God is a plus. Never turn down God when you don’t have to pay extra for Him. But the words do sound nice.

41: Stella quarta decima fulgeat - Vermont

May the fourteenth star shine bright. I hope the fourteenth state is a good one. This one has a impressively high style-to-substance ratio.

42: L’etoile du Nord - Minnesota

The star of the North. I’m not that impressed. If Oregon, Texas, and New York had joined in and chosen L’etoile du Ouest, Sud, & Est respectively, then this would have been cool. Pleasantly unique choice of language tho.

43: Virtute et armis - Mississippi

By valor and arms. Suddenly, we are amoral & fighting! Mississippi is apparently the most weapon-themed state.

44: North to the Future - Alaska

It was wise to clarify why North is good. Minnesota would have chosen A star featuring Anchorage.

45: Our liberties we prize & our rights we will maintain - Iowa

I don’t know, it’s just not exciting phrasing. Our lives are of utmost importance, & our safety will be protected. We have wonderful dogs, & we love our cats. Iowa is being maintained. Needs work.

46: Union, justice, confidence - Louisiana

Are these the top 3? Do political attack ads here accuse candidates of being secessionist, lax, and meek?

47: Liberty & Independence - Delaware

Freedom & Self-Direction. Free Will & Autonomy. Adulthood & Unpredictability. Wild & Unleashed.

48: Oro y plata - Montana

Gold & silver. Why should you live in Montana? Cash cash money. Autos deportivos y bling.

49: The Crossroads of America - Indiana

Next.

50: In God We Trust - Florida

Perhaps in Florida, bad things do not happen to good people.

Honorable mentions:

- Justitia Omnibus - Washington DC

Excellent!

- Samoa, Muamua Le Atua - American Samoa

Translation: Samoa, let God be first. (Samoa, imma let you finish...)

- Joannes Est Nomen Ejus - Puerto Rico

Translation: John is his name. Enough said.

(Honestly i changed my mind about the order partway thru typing this but didnt bother to reorder them.)

I think the messy inconsistency of these mottos is fairly beautiful. Despite having no style guide and apparently quite scattered priorities, these 50 governments share open borders and pretty excellent harmony by international standards.

Source: Wikipedia

#usa #us states #state motto #state government #motto #latin motto #trappings of state

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