#im meant to be in the deep blue underworld!!!

[cleo-serotonin]

being a mermaid would solve all my problems

#or having a mermaid gf #im meant to be in the deep blue underworld!!! #and i want it to last forever!!! #h2o just add water #h20 just add water #mermaid #mermaids #the little mermaid #lgbt

[dvrkprinces]

&&. ( alexander barrett ) was just spotted in amsterdam. rumor has it ( he ) is a ( 34 ) year old ( alpha werewolf ) who resembles ( jamie dornan ). ( he ) has been said to be ( quick-witted & determined ) but also quite ( cunning & hard-headed ). with all the chaos surrounding the magical underworld, ( he ) has chosen to align with ( the werewolf rebellion ). ( he ) is currently serving as ( a werewolf rebel spy in the inferno ). hopefully the city doesn’t devour them whole.

— ❝  fine. make me your villain. ❞

( hi there, kiwi here! last but not least, we have the official intro for my angsty edgelord, alexander barrett. daddy issues and brooding galore, this is a character who is exceptionally near and dear to my heart. as per usual, please let me know if you’d like to plot; i’m available through both the group’s discord and tumblr ims. ♡ )

name: alexander henryk barrett

birthplace: the bronx, new york, u.s.a.

birthday: may 3rd | taurus

scent: bergamot, violet flower, tuscan iris, campfire, black pepper oil, warm woods + ( signature cologne: noir - tom ford ) 

appearance: 6′3″ and muscular from years of working as a skilled hunter and undercover member of the werewolf resistance. with curly chestnut / honey brown hair and piercing blue eyes, he strongly reflects his irish heritage. alex prefers to keep a full beard at all time, just as a personal preference.

personality: ( + ) quick-witted, determined, intelligent, crafty, ambitious ( - ) cunning, hard-headed, hot-tempered, sly, self-serving

biography: In the heart of the Bronx, a boy was born to a starry-eyed single mother who wanted her son to be better than the world he’d entered into.

Financial instability and strife reigned over young Alexander Barrett’s life; poverty and crushing responsibilities became the weight he was forced to bear. Never truly exposed to anything but life in the projects, Alex spent most of his younger childhood years roughing around with some of the neighborhood kids and dreaming of a day when they’d all make it in the big leagues; some of his friends aspired to excel in sports, while others prayed to God that they could keep their asses in school long enough to earn degrees and get solid jobs in the more middle-class areas of the Bronx or even, God willing, another one of New York City’s heavily-populated, compact boroughs. But Alexander, with a mother who was barely able to scrape up enough money to get by for the two of them in their closet of an apartment with two weekday jobs and an additional one on the weekend, knew that getting out of the city and onto making a decent income was less than realistic. See, Alex was different from the other neighborhood kids; his mother was a runaway--an omega werewolf refugee who had escaped Ireland after she had been sold to an alpha werewolf from her pack in the hopes of reproducing and “fulfilling” her duties as an omega. After being impregnated with the alpha noble’s child, she escaped on a refugee boat leading to the Americas. Her pack, being Roman Catholic, had considered their union as concrete as marriage--and the only way Genevieve could escape her husband was through death. So she disappeared. It was there, in the heart of New York, that she raised her only son with all of the love and devotion inside of her; but, having been exiled and written off by all family and “proper” wolfish society, Genevieve found herself stranded in a foreign country as a single mother with no support, no means for a reasonable income, no resources available to her at all.

As Alex grew up under a loving, but hopelessly poor, roof, he found himself turning to the streets for some semblance of stability in a world where he feared his mother would fall under the pressure placed on her shoulders. Still, the world continued to spit on the boy from the Bronx with a hardened heart and a battered soul. And so young Alexander, pessimistic about the world around him, stumbled into a life of crime and mischief from a young age.

As soon as he was old enough to understand what poverty meant and how hard his mother–his beautiful, caring mother–worked to provide for him, Alexander decided to help her out as best as he could. As Genevieve was an Irish immigrant hiding from her past, expenses such as healthcare, as she tirelessly worked to try and obtain her American citizenship, were hard to come by. So, when Alex was too young to get a job, he’d shoplift clothes from secondhand clothing shops and would tell his mother that some of the older boys at school had traded him for it in exchange for some help on their homework; he’d snatch food from local grocery stores and would scatter it throughout their kitchen, praying to God his mom didn’t catch on. And the minute he was old enough to legally obtain a job of his own, Alex started working for one of the local car garages. First as a mechanic’s assistant, and then, finally, helping out with the cars themselves. But still, his lust for power and security–for stealing what he believed was owed to him and his mother–grew with age, and by the time he was sixteen, Alex was eaten up with the urge to control the world around him. So he hung out with kids on the wrong side of the tracks; began to make a name for himself on the streets. He made an effort not to terrorize people, but took what he thought he deserved. He was just, but stern; he was understanding, but not forgiving. He refused to let his mother become a victim of the streets, and so he made the streets his own. 

So without his mother knowing, Alexander plunged into a life of crime, putting school–and his other responsibilities–on the backburner. He was raking in more cash than he ever had before, and even more so, he was making a name of himself. His mother was proud of him for all the wrong reasons; she thought her son had gained a promotion at work and was working long and tireless hours in the hopes of helping them and saving up for an education for himself. Alex, who still worshiped and adored his mother, couldn’t bear to break her heart by telling her the truth. For a long while, he told himself that things were best this way; that it was easiest and safest for Genevieve Barrett if she didn’t know who (or, more specifically, what) her only son had become. He lied, cheated, and gambled his way out of everything. He was a smooth talker, a charmer, ruthless, and ambitious as hell. If he had to lie, cheat, and steal to help his mother afford to pay rent or put food on the table, then it was something he could live with. Easily. He was an alpha werewolf who knew that the “duties” allotted to his wolf ranking and status would soon be imposed upon him--but until that day, Alex was content to use whatever resources available to him in order to get by.

While he was a teenager, roughly seventeen years old, his mother--having never committed to any sort of romantic or physical relationship with any sort of meaning since his birth--fell into a relationship with a local restaurateur named Antonio. He owned a deli shop down the street, and though he came from a humble background himself, Genevieve fell head over heels in love with the human man who made her sandwiches every other Thursday. Alex disapproved of the relationship, having never been around the man much himself, but couldn’t bear to tell his mother and risk her ending a relationship over his own discomfort. Despite the nagging sensation deep in his gut, Alex pushed aside his ill will towards his mother’s newfound love and instead channeled his energy into street fights and the small heists and coups he hosted with other neighborhood boys. It was just the general unease of his mother entering into a significant relationship when she had otherwise feared men for years that bothered Alex, that was all; that was what he continued to tell himself, at least.

Life has an uncanny ability of catching up with you, Genevieve Barrett would have said, and the words ricocheted through Alexander’s skull like a restless bullet the day his mother died. A balmy spring evening, with promises whispering through the trees, rustling their branches and whistling through the busy city streets, Alex came home after a long day of working at the mechanic’s garage when he found his mother being forced into a van, kicking and screaming as no less than five men held her down and shackled her to the back of a nondescript van. No, not men--wolves. Werewolves with strong and thick Irish accents whom Genevieve seemed to know and fear. Blood thundered through Alex’s veins and pounded in his head as he raced towards her, screaming her name as her mother’s lover stood to the side, clad in a business suit and speaking urgently with a large and imposing alpha--the leader of Genevieve’s old clan, who had been hunting her in the years since she escaped. Alex pieced things together just as the man turned to face him, a queer smile on his face that sank straight to the pit of Alex’s stomach. The man had never loved his mother--he’d been a mole. Sent by Genevieve’s former pack to retrieve one of the precious jewels that had been stolen for them: an omega.

Alex was held back and forced to watch as he and his mother locked eyes, screaming for one another and scrabbling to reach each other through the barrier that separated them. Overwhelmed by panic, Alex nearly missed what happened next. Antonio explained to the wolves that Genevieve was barren; that she’d had a surgical procedure done to keep her from bearing and rearing any more children. Already a fugitive of the clan’s law and now virtually useless to them, Alex was forced to watch as one of the men holding his mother back took her head in his hands and twisted, snapping her neck. The grief and overwhelming flood of emotions over watching his mother executed in front of him pounded through Alex’s veins, and before he was able to control himself, he was shedding his human form and emerging as an alpha wolf, attacking and killing no less than three of the other wolves who had harmed and mutilated his mother before eventually being shot with a tranquilizer. Alex viewed it as a manifestation of his grief--the lead alpha saw it for what it truly was: the physical manifestations of an alpha wolf in full bloom.

And if they couldn’t have Genevieve, they would have him.

By the time Alex woke up, he was in a cargo holding cell on his way to Ireland; deciding he was a virile alpha and would do just fine in replacement of his mother, Genevieve’s former pack had stolen Alex from his home and transported him across the pond to serve in Ireland for their unseemly purposes. Soon after arriving at their clan’s stronghold just outside of Dublin, Alex hatched a plan to escape. He might have been in a foreign country and damn near penniless, but he had grown up a street rat who clawed his way through the food chain to emerge on top, and he wasn’t about to let that stop him now. He was able to escape from the clan that hoped to transform him into a breeding alpha, making his way through Ireland in search of anything that would tie him to his mother’s name and past.

Eventually, he found fellow rogue wolves, who would later become the foundations of the burgeoning werewolf rebellion, and joined up without hesitation. He’d never had much of a thing for authority or organized government anyway. He soon took Nadya Kingsley under his wing, a fellow werewolf from a broken home who needed a cause to call her own. She has become his closest confidant in all matters; the closest thing Alex has ever had to a “best friend” or family since his mother’s untimely death. Together, the two make an unstoppable duo and have garnered the respect and admiration of much of the underground rebellion.

It’s been close to twenty years since his mother’s death, and Alex’s current assignment for the rebellion is to infiltrate The Inferno and work as an informant to gather intel on what the fallen angels and vampires have planned in the supernatural war raging against them. Alex is cold and callous, cunning, and always thinks before he acts; he can be the loyalest of friends or the bitterest of enemies.

But above all, Alexander Barrett fully trusts nothing--and no one--but himself.

wanted connections: i’d be super down for some rebellion or werewolf-human coalition connections for alex in particular ! hit me with what you’ve got !

#ALEXANDER // #blood and glory: ( intro ) #nhqintro #ptsd tw #trauma tw #violence tw #death tw

[nevadaughterofelsa]

An Icy Threat

Authors note: a piece of fiction until I can RP as Neva with a Hades.

Also had an idea for alternative ending, lemme know if you'd like to see it and I'll write it! But hopefully this will inspire someone to wanna RP with me :)

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

Neva was watching the happenings in the Isle of the lost. It was her only way to spy on Auradon thanks to her old home welcoming the core four that were Mal, Evie, Jay and Carlos over to their side. The Isle was full of excitement because those very four kids had managed to stop the jealous Audrey- daughter of Aurora and Prince Phillip from causing destruction in Auradon.

Part of her was sad Audrey failed, yet another part of her was joyful at her failure. It meant she could bring her own destruction to Auradon. It was four years since she had been banished to the Isle. Banishment for avenging her family’s honour and title. Hans is the true villain, not her. However in these four years, she had grown with the attitude of 'if they want me to be the monster... Fine. I’ll be the monster'.

“You’re staring into your shard deep in thought again.” A male voice echoed through her frozen forest. “Hades...” she simply greeted, waving her hand to close the images in her magical shard and turning to look at him. “And what brings the fire to my domain?” She questioned him. This made Hades smirk and chuckle. “Really Neva? What’s with the dramatics today?” He asked, walking up her ice steps to her chair, feeling glad he always his favourite clunky boots so not to slip.

“I’m just keeping up to date on the goings-on. Nothing wrong with that is there?” Neva simply retorted with a smidge false innocence in her voice. “Now, no need for the sass.” Hades began. “Neva, if you needed updates you could just ask me. I am after all one of the rare ones that doesn’t find you intimidating.” He smirked. This caused her to roll her eyes. “And that my dear Hades, requires leaving my forest and losing my temper with the VKs.” She told him back, leaning close to his face and using her index finger to flick his chin from underneath.

“You’re a flirt. You know that right?” Hades pointed out. “Only to you,” She smiled, before standing up and walking down the steps towards the trees that line the little frozen lake to her left. Hades chuckled, he was pleased he got that out of her. He had found her utterly fascinating and ironically hot for quite some time. “Now whose the one staring?” She called out, not even needing to turn to look at him to know he was watching her every move.

“Do you wanna know what’s happening in Auradon or not?” Hades changed the subject and this made Neva turn around. “They stopped Audrey. You got a clever daughter. What else is there to know?” She replied to him. “They need me to go over and save Audrey. Her use of Maleficent’s staff put her in a death like sleep. So I’m going.” Hades explained. This actually surprised Neva. “But why? She doesn’t deserve it! If I got this for what I did, she should remain in her own prison!” Neva complained, her voice full of anger. “Im not doing it for Audrey. I’m doing it for Mal...and to get my ember back.” He explained, walking over to her and placing his hands on her arms.

Neva scoffed. “Its true. I couldn’t give two damns about those heroes, but I do care about Mal. She deserves happiness.” Hades continued and this made Neva calm slightly. She always did admire his fondness for Mal, despite staying out of her life for all these years. “...fine” she simply said. Hades then got a smile on his face. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were jealous.” He joked, making Neva breaking out of his grip and conjuring a snowball to throw at his chest.

“You’re insufferable.” She commented. “And you’re surprisingly hot when you’re mad and well... For an ice cold princess.” He replied smiling smugly. Neva walked back to him. “How do you do that?” She questioned, “Do what?” “Make me fall in love with you when you make me so mad?” Neva admitted and that threw Hades off guard for a few seconds. “Because I’m a God” He smirked, grabbing her and lifting her head up to his. Just as he was about to give her the kiss he’d always wanted, there was a cough in the near distance snapping him out of the moment.

“Mal, you’re here for me already?” He asked with a sigh. “Yes dad. Audrey can’t keep waiting.” Mal told him, her arms folded across her from the cold. Carlos and Jay were seen behind her. Carlos looked utterly terrified but Neva couldn’t work out who he was terrified of. Hades looked back to Neva, “I guess we’ll save that moment for later. I’ll be back Icy” He winked, walking over to his daughter and her friends.

“I’ve told you before hot head! Don’t call me that!” she called out, throwing another snowball at him, this time hitting him square in the back. She saw Carlos jump and squeal at the action. “God you two! You’re worse than us kids!!” Mal complained leading Hades back to the limo. “She’s terrifying, no wonder the VKs don’t step foot in that forest anymore.” Carlos whispered to Jay. “If you’re going to whisper, do it quietly. She’s no scarier than any one of us.” Hades chimed in, giving the son of Cruella a sideways glance.

Hades was sent back to the Isle and his first stop was to Neva's forest. “Neva?!” He shouted looking everywhere for her. “Where is that—” “icy witch?” Came the interrupted reply from behind him.

“Just came to say I’m back and shall we continue where we left off?” He smugly told her. “You are seriously something.” Neva smiled shaking her head. Hades just grabbed her and kissed her on her lips. His warmth against her cold made for an electric contact. Stepping back to break away, Neva looked up at him and smiled. “Hades I didn’t think you were serious.” “about finding you hot as Hell?! Neva I was DEAD serious. I come to annoy you because I like you and I’ve not felt anything since Mal's mother.” He truthfully spoke, not wasting the opportunity to throw in some underworld puns in in the process.

“I’ve always liked you too. Never did anything about it because we’re so different.” Neva admitted. “Hel-lo!! The saying “opposites attract” exists for a reason.” He told her, pulling her into an embrace. Neva froze in his embrace before relaxing, placing her hands on his chest, gripping at his torn robes under his leather coat. Truth be told, Hades annoying antics made having to live on the Isle a lot more durable. She knew she would have gone utterly insane if he didn’t bug her to no end nearly every day.

Two days passed and the Isle of the lost was just like any other day. Kids either stealing, selling, or spray painting that bit of wall that had a tiny area free of paint.

On Auradon the kids and adults alike were all gathered at the entrance. Mal with her fiancée Ben and her friends on the balcony. Fairy godmother walked over and handed Mal her wand. “Ready my dear?” She asked Mal. “Definitely!” she smiled and with a wave of the wand a few words to form a spell, she brought down the barrier between the two worlds once and for all.

The Isle felt a strong kick above the Isle and as they looked up at the sky they saw the barrier break and disappear. Lead by Uma and her crew, every VK on the Isle ran across the bridge. The core four and kids of Auradon all met them at the entrance and either bowed or courtseyed, allowing the Isle kids entry to a new better life.

Hades stood on the Isle, at the bridge holding Neva’s hand. “Ready love?” He asked looking down into her blue grey eyes. She nodded, but gulped and squeezed his hand just that bit tighter. She didn’t have a good feeling her heart. Hades stepped forward with her and made it onto the bridge but he felt a tug and Neva's hand fall from his. He span round to find her still on the Isle. “You can do it Neva!” He told her reassuringly, not knowing why she stopped.

“I can’t! The separate spell keeping me here is still up!” She told him, wide eyed and close to tears. She thumped the air and Hades saw for himself the magical barrier glow when she collided with it. “Then I’ll come back” Hades told her, stepping towards her, “Hades no. Go to your daughter.” Neva stopped him. “She needs her father at her wedding.” She continued, her hurt and anger forming in her hands. Before Hades could stop her, she blasted him over the bridge where Mal met him half way. “Dad!!” She screamed as she ran to him, helping him up to his feet.

“Im fine Mal. She did it for my own sake...” He told her, walking her back into Auradon. That’s when the winds picked up strongly out of nowhere. The sun being hidden by black thick clouds, swirling in the sky. Snow began to fall heavily on Auradon.

“Neva no...” came a voice Hades hadn’t heard before. Queen Elsa and her sister Anna walked up and spoke. Hades turned back to the sky and saw the storm get worse. “Dad look!” Mal called out pointing at the ice that spread up and round the entrance of the Isle and across the bridge. “She’s freezing the whole place” Mal gasped. “If Auradon didn’t banish her this never would have happened.” Hades remarked. “We didn’t want her banished Hades.” Elsa replied, looking up at him with disapproval in her eyes. “She knows that YOU didn’t want to, but you think that makes a difference? Auradon has given the rest of the Isle a second chance to those who want it. Yet they won’t give it to your own daughter.” Hades pointed out. “Its no wonder her powers have have taken over!” Hades continued, finding it difficult to not blame Elsa.

“It’s not my sister’s fault!” Anna chimed in. “Was there ANY positive things for her over there?” Anna asked. “Yeah...me” Hades flatly spoke. This did not make Elsa happy one bit. Anna couldn’t help but smile. “Well Elsa! They do say opposites attract!” She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Not now Anna” Elsa told her sister, walking towards Belle, Beast and the Fairy Godmother. Hades watched as quiet words were spoken between them and he squinted his eyes in a judging manner.

That was until the sounds of Mal's chattering teeth reverberated through his skull. He quickly took his coat off and wrapped it round her. “Vome on, we need to get everyone inside and warmed up. Then I’m going to make myself known in that little meeting they’re having.” Hades suggested to her, guiding Mal and the other kids inside.

Neva watched as the love of her life walked away with the people of Auradon. He did what she told him to, do why was that very image making her cry. Screaming in emotional pain, she dropped to the floor, ice shooting out all around. The Isle now falling victim to her powers. “Hades...help me...” She cried, until the last of her sorrow snapped and she slowly looked up with a smirk.

“Maybe now Auradon you’ll see what I’m capable of! I’ll have my revenge and you’ll regret EVER turning me into a monster!” she practically flat, standing up and walking up onto the balcony, creating an ice throne and spires on the frontal buildings. She stared on as her ice and snow covered Auradon in a blanket white. She watched as only a few of the adults stood on the opposite balcony wrapped in several layers and blankets staring back at her. An evil smirk crept across her face.

Elsa and Anna looked out at their precious Neva. “Hades was right. We never should have let her be banished...she’s more like I was than I realized possible.” Elsa spoke to her sister, as Anna pulled her in for a side hug and rubbed her shoulder. “They didn’t give us a choice... We’ll pull her back Elsa. I promise. I pulled you back remember?” Anna reassuringly told her sister. Elsa slowly nodded as tears fell down her cheeks.

“Your version was different. You both had each other. Even the Isle exiled her...” Hades explained to them, stepping up from behind. The two sisters looked at him. “You said she had you?” Anna queried. Hades simply closed his eyes briefly and nodded. “I was the only one who would visit her. She just stayed in the forest freezing it before I did. I got her to eat and drink. Stay healthy. Thawed parts of the forest just to gain a reaction out of her numerous times.” He explained, smirking at the end bit. He remembered even those dark days fondly.

“Thank you Hades.” Elsa simply commented. “I never thought I’d thank a villain but you kept her stable. So thank you.” Elsa thanked him again, looking him in the eyes. He just simply nodded to her in recognition. He didn’t take his eyes off the Isle and Neva. “Neva..” he breathed. Elsa and Anna quietly stood out in the cold with him, despite the fact Anna could never handle the cold after she got her heart frozen when she was an teenager.

“has the dark in me finally come to light?

Am I monster full of rage?

No where to go but on a rampage, or am I just a monster....in a cage?”

Days and days went by and the storm just grew. Auradon was growing weaker from the freeze. Her revenge was finally coming to light. Elsa never left that balcony. Numerous people tried to get her inside but she refused to lose sight of her daughter.

“I’ve been talking with Hades... He’s going to go out there and talk her down.” Anna broke the silence walking up to Elsa in the morning of day 12 of this winter. Elsa looked at Anna. “How, it didn’t stop it from happening?” Elsa questioned, confused on how it could do the slightest bit help.

“Because I love her” Hades interrupted, answering her question. “If I can’t bring her back then when I’m back I’ve agreed to let Belle and Beast to destroy the bridge...” he explained, getting a lump in his throat as he spoke those words. The last thing he wanted was her to be stranded on the Isle forever. “Then bring her home. Bring my girl home” Elsa said, turning and looking him dead in the eye. She grabbed his hands and squeezed them. “I have faith you’ll bring her back to the light.”

Hades squeezed her hands back before letting go. “Keep her safe Anna. And... Look after Mal for me.” Hades requested, to which Anna hugged him with a simple “I will. Now go get our girl” before letting go.

Hades took a deep breath before exhaling and he tightly wrapped his coat round him before fighting through the storm to get across the bridge. If his theory was right, he should be able to enter the Isle with no problem and get to Neva. Neva squinted her eyes as she saw a figure in the storm battling across the bridge. “Turn back!!” She shouted, standing up, raising her hands, ready to fight.

“NEVA! ITS ME! ITS HADES!” He bellowed through the sound of the storm whirling around him. This stopped Neva dead in her tracks. Slowly lowering her hands, she waved them in a circular motion to make his walk easier to her. Her heart may be getting harder with the power in her, but she refused to have Hades struggle in her eternal winter she created. Hades stood up shit more right now the wind let up around him, and only him. It made him stop briefly to look around. He couldn’t help but be impressed by her power. It was equally beautiful as it was frightening.

Pulling his coat tighter across his chest, he power walked over to her and looked up when he reached the bottom of the balcony. “Neva this needs to stop. People are getting seriously ill from your cold.” He told her, his voice didn’t have an ounce of fear towards her or hatred. He spoke out of admiration and love. “They deserve everything they get. They trapped me in my frozen Hell, I’ll trap them in theirs.” She coldly told him, yet Hades could see the emotion of upset in her eyes. “The Isle kids don’t. I know they were scared of you, but they were just like you. Banished to this damned place. I was sent here. A God. Yet here I am trying to continue and bring back all the hard work my daughter created.” He tried to get through to her.

His plan didn’t go how he wanted as she glared and shot a barrier of icicles Infront of him, causing Hades to jump back slightly. “Neva! Please!” Hades called to her, desperation in his voice now. Since when did he ever feel the need to beg? This was not like him. He never begged but this woman was causing him to. “They wanted me to be a monster! So I became one! They’re reaping what they’ve sowed!” She all but yelled at him.

“Just let me come up! We can sort this mess out! If you stop this winter, they’ll let you back!” Hades pleaded with her. This momentarily caught Neva off guard and he wondered if he was finally getting through to the woman he had fallen in love with. Then her reaction changed back just as quick. “Lies! You think they’d welcome me back with open arms?! They’ll lock me up the moment I cross the bridge!” She told him, convinced that’d be the only outcome. Through her yelling, she unknowingly threw her arms up and shot a ice blade right at Hades, impaling him in the side.

Hades fell to the ground in pain as he made the blade thaw and melt. “HADES!!! NO!! OH MY GOD NO!” She looked wide eyed, shaking with fear at what she had done. Clambering up rapidly, she ran down her stairs and skidded down to him, the storm seizing, but the snow staying. “No no no no.. Hades I’m so sorry! I’m do so sorry.. please.. please don’t leave me, oh god..” She looked from the wound to his face quickly, running her hands through her hair and over her face. Her hands are shaking and she didn’t know what to do. “Neva, hey...hey look at me” Hades said, shivering as he felt her ice overtaking him.

Neva looked at him, tears falling from her eyes. “Its okay...I love you. I know I’m not one to say that sappy crap but...I love you.” He had to admit it to her, even if he didn’t survive her ice. “I love you too... Tell me how to fix this. Please, I can’t lose you...” She sobbed, leaning down placing her forehead on his. “Anna said love will thaw. Said you’d know what that means” He explained. She lifted her head and wracked her brain for the meaning. “Love will...thaw...love will thaw!” she remembered what her aunt told her about how her mother used the love in her heart to thaw the winter. Hovering her hands over his wound, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the ice, she thought about drawing it upwards and as she did so, her hands raised above Hades, speckles of thawed ice raising with her. The wound began to close and as she opened her eyes and smiled and chuckled. “I did it!”

With a grunt Hades stood up with Neva’s aid. He looked down at her with love in his eyes and a smile to match. “Now...let’s do the same with this storm. I believe in you” He told her, running his hands down to grab her hands. “What if I’m not strong enough?” She asked, afraid she won’t undo all she did. “With my power you will be.” He reassured her, giving her hands a squeeze and a nod of his head towards the bridge all to say 'come on'. With a gulp and a sigh, she let go of his hands and stood in the middle of the Isle and looked out towards Auradon. She raised her hands high above her head to skies above and Hades did the same with his ember in his grasp.

They glanced at each other and with a nod they looked back to the skies and used their powers to thaw the winter. Every bit of ice and snow began to rise from the ground and buildings around them and all come together into a snowflake in the now blue skies. Just like her mother had done years before. Parting her arms away she dispersed the cold and came back the warmth to all of the Isle and Auradon. The two of them could hear cheers and screams coming from Auradon in celebration. “Told you you could do it!” Hades smirked giving her a wink causing Neva to blush.

“Neva!” She quickly looked back towards the bridge and she saw her Aunt Anna come running down the bridge. Grabbing her hand once more, Hades walked her to the bridge and stood with her. The barrier still up for her. “Aunt Anna?” She spoke. “Neva! Oh my god that was incredible!! Your mom was so proud!” Anna was gushing. She may be older but that young spunky attitude was most definitely still there.

“Where is she?” Neva questioned. “On her way. She don’t do the whole running like a reindeer thing as she calls it.” Anna told her, panting from being out of breath. Neva smiled and saw just behind Anna was indeed Elsa with the fairy godmother beside her. She tried to work out their body language but couldn’t. “Neva. You froze Hans, you brought an lasting winter stronger than anything your mother made....” Fairy Godmother began talking which made both Anna and Hades to cough to make her get to the point. “But you’ve proven yourself here today. You’ve proven that through love you can change any outcome. So, to keep my part of Auradon's deal with Elsa and Hades, I remove your barrier and welcome you back to where you belong.” She smiled, waving her wand and spouting her famous words 'bibbidi bobbidi boo!’ the barrier broke down. Hesitantly Neva stepped one foot forward, finding she could finally cross. Elsa instantly pulled Neva into her grasp. “oh Neva! I’ve dreamed about this day to hold you in my arms again!” Elsa cried.

Anna gave Hades a little fist nudge on his arm, which brought a straight disapproving bloom from him. So she quickly retracted her grin. “Mother...” was all Neva could say. Elsa pulled her back to really look at her and wiped her remaining tears from her face. She guided her back to Hades and placed their hands together. “Thank you Hades. For giving my daughter the love she so desperately needed to show her there’s more to having these powers than destruction.” Elsa complimented him.

Hades was about to respond when the cry of “DAD!!” broke the moment up and Mal came bounding down the bridge with nearly all of Auradon and the Isle behind her. Mal threw herself onto her father hugging him. “I saw everything!” she said to him, before pulling away to look at Neva. “I am SO sorry...and I’m glad you’re with my dad.” She told Neva, hugging her. Neva shocked, hugged her back after computing the action. “Thank you Mal.” She said, pulling away and looking at everyone, “thank you all.” She told them.

Belle and Beast walked through the crowds to stood in front of Neva. “Neva” they spoke formally. She looked at them both nervously. Then Belle smiled and embraced her. “Come home” she declared. Neva smiled and nodded, “I want nothing more” was all that needed to be said before Hades stepped up to hold her hand and they all went back to Auradon....together.

#descendants hades #descendants fanfiction #hades x oc #descendants Hades fanfiction #descendants hades rp #descendants

[dragonwitch77]

Death’s Flower ch 2

“Stupid kid. Stupid gods.” Snatcher grumbled, stomping down the seamlessly endless steps that descended down to his realm. A realm that only housed beings that had left the mortal world for good, where there is nowhere else to go when their life came to an end. A domain that had many names.

The Underworld. The Realm of the Death. The Underground. The Forsaken Place. The Domain of the Snatcher.

Pretty much those names were enough to fill in the mortals and gods alike of what was down there. Being the God of Death, souls of mortals were sent to his domain to be dealt with after their parting from the living world. It was his sole duty alone to do this task, whether he liked it or not.

And he didn’t mind it one bit.

In fact he liked that he was the God of Death. If it meant that others feared him and left him alone, then he didn’t mind reaping a couple hundred souls each day. It was fun to see others squirm in his presence, fearing when he might snap and attack them or prank them out of the blue. He may be the God of Death, but he had to have some fun once in a while.

He took in the site of his world as he reached the final step, standing on it as his eyes gazed over the world he ruled. Some would say that his domain was a dark place that didn’t even have a speck of light in it, but he could prove them wrong once they saw what a wonder his world was. It was like a kingdom of darkness, the only light coming from the pools filled with souls he had yet to judge, varying from bluish greens to deep purples and sky blue. As long as it wasn’t too colorful, his world was perfect.

“Boss! Boss!”

Almost perfect.

“What is it?” Snatcher sighed, stepping off the final step, letting the earth return to its natural state as it closed up behind him for another year before he could leave again.

His minion, one of many identical beings that swore their service to him, fell to the ground in front of him in a clumsy manor. Picking themselves up, they stood tall, or as tall as their pudgy small round body could only reach the height just half way to his knee. “Boss! Thank the Sisters you’re back! We just got a new batch of souls! It seems like a bunch a them had drowned.”

Snatcher rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. “That’s the third time this month. Honestly, how many idiotic mortals are going to die before they realize that fishing out in a storm is NOT a good idea?!” He walked past the minion, grumbling to himself as he went deep into his domain. “What’s the status on our current pools?”

“W-well, we’ve managed to sort out all the young and old into the pools they should go in. Few have tried to escape.” The minion followed behind him, listing off the things that had happened while the deathly ruler was gone. “The dogs were getting restless after you left so we set them lose on some damned souls to keep them occupied. A child recently died of an illness. Someone was stabbed to death. Moonjumper is here. And we still—OOF!”

The minion fell backwards, looking up at the long black hair of their master.

“I’m sorry.” The minion coward as Snatcher slowly turned around, his eyes illuminating in the darkness, staring down the minion. “Did I hear that right? Did you just say, Moon. Jumper. Is here?!” A deep growl emanated within Snatcher’s throat as his cape began dancing with power.

“I-I-I-I-I’M SORRY! We tried to send him away but he wouldn’t listen!” The minion shook with fear as the dark serge of Snatcher’s power radiated. “He insisted that he needed to see you urgently, but you weren’t here!”

“WHERE IS HE?!”

“AT THE TEMPLE! HE’S IN THE TEMPLE!” The minion openly wept as Snatcher growled with rage, running towards his home.

)*(

The home of the God of Death was, as the other gods described it, not as fancy or well lavished as all the other homes of the other gods and goddesses. It wasn’t made out of white stone marble, but black cracking earth and vines with sharp thorns that held it together. It was just as big as any home fit for a god, maybe even bigger than the rest of them, but was not very appealing to look at with crumbling pillars, broken floors, skeletons of the many deceased used for decorations and furniture, and bodies of past intruders hung on the ceiling to show as an example.

But while the other gods and goddesses would find the thought of going to such place disturbing if not revolting, there was in fact one god who did not mind Snatcher’s strange taste of design.

And the only god to get on his nerves.

“MOONJUMPERRRRR!” Snatcher screamed as he burst open the doors of his home, forgetting to restrain himself as his power tore the rotten wood off their hinges and clatter to the ground in pieces.

“Ah! So he finally arrives! Though I can see he’s quite angry as a beehive!”

Snatcher growled as he spotted the god sitting in his favorite chair with a bowl of grapes in his hand. “What are you doing here you pathetic excuse of a god?! You aren’t allowed in the Underworld without permission from me!”

The god merely grinned, plucking a grape and popping it in his mouth. “Permission from you? Oh how silly but true. While indeed most do, I however can pop in out of the blue.”

Snatcher stormed his way up to Moonjumper, slamming his claws into the seat’s armrests and growled dangerously. “I REALLY insist that you stop with your ridiculous habit of rhymes you—”

“Temper temper! There’s no need of this distemper!” Moonjumper rose from the seat, shoving the bowl in Snatcher’s hands. “I only came for a visit! Now that’s not such a crime, is it?”

The god giggled, going around Snatcher as he threw the bowl filled with fruit away. Most would say that the two were look similar to one another. But while their faces did seem to mirror each other, that is where the similarity ended. While Snatcher was thin, bony, pale skinned, golden eyes, had wild long hair that reached to the floor, covered in darkness and wore pants, Moonjumper was a class of his own with his short pure white hair, blue skin, bright red colored clothing with chains wrapped around his torso and neck, wild red eyes, and scars covering his face.

And majorly legless. Everyone could spot the lack of legs from miles away. And it was no secret to how he lost them in the first place.

“You little pest! How many times do I have to beat it in you that I do not want you here?! You have your own domain! Go use that instead of here!”

“I do not wish to be this pestering! I only dropped by to see what your mind is festering.” Moonjumper grinned, floated around Snatcher. “You seemed quite tense, I should know. Tell me, what’s bothering you so?”

“I don’t need to tell the likes of you!” Snatcher shoved past Moonjumper. “I know your tricks God of Corpses! Don’t think for a second that I won’t know what you’re up to!”

“But that is not true! I really came to see you!” Moonjumper followed him, keeping a distance between them in case the Death God decided to get a little… slashy. “Say all you want with your skilled tongue of lies, I can see it in your sad eyes.”

“Stop following me.” Snatcher growled. “I’ve already got enough to deal with, and your visit is not helping.”

“Indeed all this talking isn’t much help. Shouldn’t you be searching for the thieving little whelp?”

Snatcher froze in his tracks. He slowly looked over his shoulder, glaring at the other god behind him. “How… did you know something was stolen from me?”

Moonjumper clicked his tongue, waging his finger at Snatcher. “Oh silly Snatcher, can’t you see? There’s a connection between you and me. Though knowledge and memories we do not share, you tend to let you emotions go wild without care. Though it was only just very brisk, I could feel that the balance of the world is at great risk.” He grabbed to cloak that Snatcher never took off, pulling it up so that the tear was visible for both of them to see.

“For such a precious item that you deeply tend with care, seems that someone defiled it with a horrible tear.”

Snatcher swatted Moonjumper’s hands away, tugging the cloak close to him.

“This act is quite shameful, but who is very blameful? Mortal or god? This act has got me quite awed! For stealing a piece of the cloak that belongs to none other than you Snatcher, must be feeling deep satisfactory and rapture.”

“If it were a mere mortal that stole from me, they would die instantly when they touch the piece even by a little.” Snatcher glared at the tear. “No mortal can do such a task and get away with this without consequences. Even with help from another god, the task is impossible.”

“Ah! But to have a piece taken under your nose and gone! It seems that impossible was in fact improbable along.”

Snatcher shot a dirty look at Moonjumper. “… I don’t have time to deal with you. I have work that needs my attendance.” With that he stormed off, leaving Moonjumper to giggle madly at nothing.

)*(

“Thank you for coming Caitlin. I know this was sudden with what happened earlier today and with your help with the guests.”

“It’s no trouble! I was happy to help! Plus, I hadn’t had the chance to use my whip on someone for a long time now so I felt it was necessary for some practice.” Caitlin grinned, patting her trusted whip hooked on her belt. “Besides, I wanted to see the little cutie again~! I just can’t get enough of his tiny little fingers~!” The goddess purred, making Zaman laugh happily.

“Yes. Lyvia has certainly made a cute… child…”

“… Is something the matter?” Caitlin asked, noticing the sad look in Zaman’s three eyes.

“It’s nothing old friend. Just… Lyvia never showed any deep desire for anything other than looks before. I knew she had a soft spot for children, but… to go this far to make one. Without a partner no doubt. I… I honestly don’t know how to feel! I would never allow her to sleep with any man of course! She’s still too… too arrogant I fear. I feel like she only did it for attention and has no real desire to care for her daughter.”

“Zaman, old friend, do not worry!” Caitlin took Zaman’s hand between hers, grasping it tightly. “Your daughter is taking a big step. Motherhood is rewarding and learning. She will learn to be less immodest as she cares for her new child and learn to take her responsibility well. She now has someone who will depend on her and rely on her to take care of them. I’ve seen plenty of new mothers in my time and she’s no different.”

“But what if she strays from her duty as a mother? Children need constant care after all. I would know this well when Lyvia was but a small child herself and I had to raise her on my own.”

“Ah, but that is where you are wrong dear friend. You were not alone! You had friends who were willing to help. And now, your daughter has friends that are willing to help her raise her child when she is in need of that help.” She gave her friend’s hand a squeeze.

Zaman sighed, shaking his head with a smile. “You… are a very wise old friend. And very right. I’m still worried about her, but I will give her a chance at being a mother.” His smile grew wide as his three eyes gleamed with a spark of giddiness in them. “And it will be a joy to be a grandfather. After all, someone needs to spoil my grandchild!”

“Oh you!” Caitlin slapped his arm in good fun as the God of Time roared with laughter.

“Father? Caitlin? Can you come to the garden please?” Lyvia’s voice called out from the garden, catching both of the gods attention. They shared a look before heading over to the garden.

The garden was a beautiful place, filled with flowers and fruits, with decorations that wild the imagination of any mortal, and small animals that played in the trees and sang lovely songs gifted by the goddess herself. Lyvia was seated by the edge of one of the many lakes in the garden, watching the colorful fish swim about.

“Lyvia? Is something the matter child?” Zaman asked, approaching her quietly as her child was sleeping in her arms.

Lyvia continued to stare at the fish swimming in the water before slowly turning her gaze to the moon. “… Father? How, high are the walls surrounding the garden?”

Zaman, taken by surprise by the question, shared a glance with his old friend. “Well, very high my child. Why do you ask?”

Lyvia looked away from the fish, fixing her eyes on her father. “Is it not possible to make them higher? I… would like them to be taller.”

“Now why in the world would you want that? The walls surrounding the garden are very high already.” Caitlin questioned, one of her ears tilting down in confusion.

“I know they are high as they are now Caitlin. And you are right to question my sudden request.” Lyvia stood up slowly so not to disturb her child’s rest. “But, please understand. It’s for my child’s safety.”

“The walls are tall enough for you not to worry for her safety my daughter. I made them myself and with the finest builders! Why has this worry come upon you?”

“…”

“… It’s… because of him, isn’t it?” Caitlin’s ear flattened against her head, her tail dipping down low to the ground.

Zaman sighed. “Lyvia—”

“Please father! After what happened today, I’m worried for her safety! Not fearing the God of Death is one thing, but to laugh in his face is another! Have you ever met someone who has laughed in the face, the actual face, of death himself?”

Zaman’s mouth hung open, yet no words came out. “… well… no. I can not tell you who has done such a thing.”

“Exactly! You both have told me what he is like. He will not take this lightly! What if he tries to do harm to my child? Or worse, kill her?”

“Now now! There’s no need to worry about that!” Zaman placed his hands on Lyvia’s shoulders. “Snatcher has used his one day of walking on the surface of the living. And he may be the God of Death, but he’s never taken a life of a god before!”

“But… but what about the Dark Days?”

The two older gods cringed, looking away from Lyvia.

“… Snatcher… does tend to hold a bit of a grudge against others.” Caitlin spoke quietly, her tail swishing to and fro. “I’ve seen firsthand of what he can do when he’s pushed far enough. He can turn things rather ugly real quick.”

Zaman sighed, rubbing his neck. “He’s an unpredictable one. With a variety of tricks up his sleeve.”

“Please build the wall higher father! My child must be protected from his wrath!”

Zaman glanced at his daughter, looking deep into her pleading eyes and found great worry deep within them. He looked to his grandchild, seeing the peaceful look on her sleeping face. So innocent and untainted by the world.

“… fine.” Zaman sighed with reluctance. “I shall see to it that the wall gets built taller.”

“Thank you father!” Lyvia threw her arm around her father, hugging him tightly. “Thank you! Thank—Oh!” Lyvia pulled back as her child started to cry. “My poor baby, did mommy startle you? Oh, I’m sorry.” She rocked herself, heading off for her chambers.

Caitlin watched as the young goddess walked away, turning to her old friend with a deep frown on her face. “Would building the walls higher even make a difference? Snatcher is a crafty one and you know that walls won’t stop him if he really will go after her child.”

Zaman rubbed his chin, stroking his small beard. “He is crafty. Too cleaver for my taste, and, dare I say, smarter than me and the Sisters. And terrifyingly dangerous. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries anything, but I’m sure he wouldn’t try anything so soon. But then again. It wouldn’t hurt to prepare and add a little guard to the place.”

“Yes, but would it be enough to stop him? He can be very persistent on his tasks, nothing will sway him from what he sets his mind on.” Caitlin huffed. “To think… he was once one of us on equal ground.”

“Now now. The past is behind us all Caitlin. What happened, happened. There’s nothing we can do now but more forward with time of the future.”

“… Zaman… how… how can you be the only god I know who doesn’t hold on to the past without a deep grudge? Everyone else seems to still hold it against him for what he’s done but you—”

“Caitlin, let’s just say for now that we all were young back then. Snatcher may almost be as old as me and older than you, but sometimes, you have to look at all angles before you see the whole picture.”

Caitlin stared at her friend for a moment before sighing and shaking her head. “I love you old fool, but sometimes, even with the clearness of a cat, you still remain a big mystery to me.”

Zanam smiled. “Because too much curiosity can kill the cat.” He laughed as Caitlin gave him a solid punch to the arm, leading her back inside for a few drinks before seeing her off that night.

#ahit #ahit au #ahit fanfic #a hat in time #death's flower au #snatcher #cooking cat #moonjumper

[hakyeonsmelanin]

Prisoner (Ravi x reader)

Hades au and Persephone au!

The god of the underworld took you as his prisoner. Little did he know your heart belonged to another.

warning: character death, sex, a little bit of gore, Ravi being a fucking creep and obsession?? Enjoy anyways x

Sorry y’all I can’t help bringing Hakyeon in 💀 he’s my bias and he owns my ASS sksksksk

He was so tender, so gentle at times that you almost forgot where you were and who he was. Soft sweet nothings were often whispered into your ears, kind caresses consoled you in your times of sadness.

“What troubles you so, little one?”

“I want to go home, Wonshik.” You pleaded tearfully, clinging onto the silk of his shirt. His long fingers threaded themselves into your hair.

“You are home, my love.” He answered simply.

“No, I am not. I am mortal, I am not meant to dwell in a place as dark as this. You know this best above all yet you still keep me here! Im begging you, I wish to go back to my real-“ he cut you off, his voice booming through the air.

“SILENCE! Your home is with me. I decide where you dwell, where you go and what you do! Tell me? Are you not provided for here? Do I not give you, my Queen, the finest of everything?”

“Yes, you do.” You looked to floor, scared to endure his wrath. The last time you had pressed too hard, it hadn’t ended well, it took weeks for your bruises to heal.

“ I do not want to hear of this again. You would do well to remember that.” Hades released you from his grip and walked out of the throne room.

What could the God of death know about a mortal’s sadness?

What could the God of death know about love ?

~

You were the most divine thing he had ever seen. Your smile was radiant, your eyes were beaming and your nature was like that of a child. Always laughing, always happy...were you unaware of the darkness in the world? The corruption, the pain, the death...were they foreign concepts to you?

He had seen you by mistake. A tear in the veil between the worlds had caused him to gaze upon the mortal realm and of all things, he came across you. Once he first looked at you, Wonshik found he could not stop.

There you sat in a meadow, nonchalantly braiding flowers into your hair, creating a crown of the sorts. An assortment of petals; vivid reds and azure blues ; soft pinks and purples were knotted sweetly into your locks.

If it was a crown you wanted, Wonshik would give you one.

If you wanted to be a queen, Wonshik would make you his.

~

“I love you, little one.” He poured some wine into the golden goblet in front of you before placing a kiss on your head and sitting in his own chair, a dark and intricately crafted thing. You would expect nothing less for the God of death.

Despite not needing to eat himself, Hades arranged for you to have dinner every evening. It was something that gave you peace of mind and allowed you to feel closer to home. Maybe if you did normal things, you could feel more normal. But nothing about this was normal. Nothing about this was right.

One who breathes has no place in the land of the dead.

“I love you too, Hades.” You lied before taking a sip of the wine. It was delicious as always, and left a sweet aftertaste on your palette.

“I have told you many times, beloved, address me as Wonshik.” He seemed to be in a good mood today.

You sat in silence after that, with you digging into your food and Wonshik watching you lovingly.

“Tell me of your life before you came here. I want to know all there is about you.” This caught you off guard. He was normally so uptight about you mentioning the life he stole from you on the mortal realm. It had been two years since he brought you here and not once did he allow you to speak of such matters, they were almost considered taboo. But looking up at him, his expression was earnest. He was serious.

“ I...come from a poor family. My father works at the markets, he sells cheap cloth and linen. My mother sews. My brother is younger than I and I was very close to him.” Wonshik smiled at that, making a hand gesture as if to say ‘continue’.

“...my fondest memory of him and I was at the age of eleven. He was nine. We both went to the markets with my father and tried to help him sell his merchandise, competing with each other to see who could make the most sales. He won, of course, being smaller and cuter although I made my fair share of sales too. In order to get my revenge, I tied his feet up when he fell asleep that night and left him. He didn’t notice until he had to get up in the morning and fell down, falling straight onto his face. It took him a whole year for his tooth to grow back.” You laughed at the giant, gaping hole where one of your brother’s front teeth should have been. He didn’t take it too seriously, he just pranked you back.

That was something you loved about your brother, his unwavering cheekiness.

“My love, I hadn’t known you were so mischievous. What was your brother’s name?” Wonshik chuckled at your antics.

“Sanghyuk. He’s not my brother by blood, my father found him as a baby, crying outside of a brothel. But he was still very dear to me.” You missed him more and more every day.

“Mmm, did you have anyone else who was dear to you?”

Before you could stop yourself, the name fell from your mouth. You had gotten too caught up in remiscising but the memories you had with the boy who had dark eyes and golden skin were so precious to you, you couldn’t help but say his name.

“Hakyeon.” Oh no, what had you done.

Wonshik, observant as always, realised the slight widening of your eyes, the small gasp from your lips.

“Hakyeon. Who is this hakyeon?” He leaned forward, all the softness in his expression gone now.

“...Just a boy that I used to play with as a child.” He was so much more. Hakyeon, although a mortal, had something Wonshik could never have. He had your heart. Once upon a time, he was your betrothed and you dreamed of a future with him.

Then Hades stole you away.

“Just a boy?”

You gulped your food down, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. If he got to Hakyeon, you would never forgive yourself.

“Yes, Wonshik.”

No more was said about the matter.

No more was said that night.

~

The clothes you wore now were fit for a queen-no, a goddess. In your own realm, you wore simple dresses made of cotton and sandals created from weak leather. In the underworld, you wore the finest crushed velvets ranging from shades of deep maroon, hazy greens and blues and sometimes, jet black. Your hair was always in an intricate up-do as requested by Hades, who loved to see as much of your face as possible.

Putting on the clothes, no matter how beautiful, felt like a lie.

Taking them off, felt much worse.

“Come closer to me, little one.” Hades gestured with his index finger to the bed he sat on and you followed hesitantly, coming to a halt in front of him.

You were now in nothing but your undergarments, shivering lightly at the cold. Your captor placed his hands on your waist and began placing soft kisses on your stomach.

“I had never felt love before I met you,” His kisses moved upwards, from your navel onto your breasts and chest. He removed the lace confining your breasts and sucked lightly, eliciting a groan from you. His digits on the other hand moved to your nether regions, slipping over your clothed heat.

“I had not felt anything before I met you, do you know that, love?” His lips moved to your ears now, whispering gently.

“N-no.”

“Well, now do you know. You are my most prized possession, my shining jewel. I am lucky to have you as my wife.”

Hades lay you on the bed now, climbing on top of you. How you hated yourself for enjoying this so much. He was evil, he took you from everything you knew based on the delusion that he loved you and still, you yearned for him at times like this. What would Hakyeon think? Would he be disgusted at you? You wished it could Hakyeon ontop of you instead, the way it should have been.

You closed your eyes in an attempt to banish all thoughts of your childhood love. Luckily, Hades helped you with that through the quickening pace of his fingers.

“Tell me you love me, Y/N. Say it like you mean it, this time.”

He removed his fingers, positioning his member at your enterance.

“Say it.”

“I...”

“Say it.”

You moaned when he entered you slightly, only to remove himself. Didn’t he want you right now? How was he stopping himself from losing all control? He ground his hips up against yours and you gave in, the more wanton side of you taking over.

“I-I love you, Wonshik. I love you so much.”

He kissed your lips and entered you roughly, causing you to yelp into his mouth.

You hated him for controlling you like this.

But you hated yourself more for enjoying it.

~

“Y/N?” No. No. No. It couldn’t be him. Your senses had to be decieving you.

“Hakyeon?” He knelt on the floor as Hades stood over him. His skin was bloody, eyes glazed with tears and lips quivering. This had to be a nightmare.

“W-Wonshik, what is the meaning of this?” You stood up from your throne and moved closer to the two. The God grabbed Hakyeon from the collar of his flimsy shirt and dragged him backwards before flinging him onto the ground completely.

“You love this man.”

Your eyes snapped up to Hades in shock. His expression was viscious, his chest puffed out as though he was a wild beast but the look in his eyes told you he was hurt, he felt wronged. Now you would pay the price for it. Hakyeon would.

“No! No, I don’t! I told you I played with him as a child but that was a long time ago! I never loved him!” Your chest was pounding and the sides of your head were stinging. This couldn’t be real.

Hakyeon sobbed on the ground. His shoulders shook and his breath was heavy. How you wished to embrace him, tell him it would all be okay.

“Little one, do not take me for a fool. I saw the look on your face when you spoke his name. You care him, deeply so. You love him. But that is not acceptable, when you are wed to me.” He walked to you and gripped your hair tightly.

“Ah! I- I swear to you, Wonshik, I love you! I have no feelings for this boy! I have not seen in him years! It’s you, my love, it’s always been you! You are the one who owns my heart, my soul and my body!” Your exclaimed, tears falling from your eyes.

Wonshik’s eyes widened at that and his grip on your scalp wavered. His voice was a deep whisper when he spoke to you next.

“In the two years, you have been here...not once have you told me that you love me without myself having to say it first. Not once have you ever called me any term of endearment. Now...now, I know you love this man.” He released you and walked over to Hakyeon, whos eyes were stuck on your hysterical form.

You chased after him, grabbing at his back but it made no difference.

“Please! Wonshik, it doesn’t matter how I feel for him when I only have you! You’re the only one in my life! He hasn’t intruded once! We can forget him! We can carry on and live our lives together, our eternity! He doesn’t matter, j-j-just return him to his realm! You and I live here peacefully, there’s no reason for him to even be here!”

He picked up Hakyeon, as he weighed nothing and didn’t even acknowledge you. Hakyeon’s eyes widened as he looked at you, opening his mouth to speak.

“You are the one who has ruined my marriage. The scum who has taken my wife from me.” Hades growled into his ear before raising his arm and pushing him further up. Hakyeon was dangling in the air now, eyes filled with pure terror as he struggled. He looked at you lovingly, knowing you would be the last sight he would ever see. He could’ve spent his whole life looking at you.

Hakyeon often dreamed of finding you again, after your disappearance.

Not like this, though.

“Y/N! Look awa-“ he never finished his sentence. Hades wrapped his fingers across his neck and you ran forward but it was too late. You heard a gruesome crack.

Blood seeped from his mouth, his eyes were cloudy.

You screamed.

His body fell limp on the ground and you scrambled towards it, nuzzling your chest into his chest. Wonshik was silent. You cried and cried and cried into the body of your love, feeling the warmth leave it with every touch. His hair fell over his eyes just as cutely as it did in your childhood and you moved it to the side to pepper kisses on his forehead, cheeks and eventually his lips.

He was gone.

Gone.

Gone.

It was all that monster’s fault.

Looking back at Wonshik, you saw him standing with a blank expression although you knew he was hurt at what he just witnessed. Your true feelings, your love for a mere mortal when Hades himself, a powerful God meant nothing to you.

“You...you...devil! You fucking monster! Look at what you have done! Everywhere you go, everything you do causes such pain! If you thought this would bring us closer, you are mistaken...because I will never, ever even come close to loving you. You miserable, jealous, pathetic excuse for a creature there is nothing I would love more than to see your demise.” You seethed, the anger you hid for two years finally erupting. Your voice was a hoarse, ragged and vengeful sound. It was aged and seeped with hatred. You couldn’t recognise it.

“Because you’re right! I don’t love you, I never have and I never will. You REPULSE me!” You roared at Wonshik whilst cradling Hakyeon, hoping somehow that he would just come back to you.

Wonshik’s eyes were glossy now. A river of tears fell onto his cheeks but he said nothing and left the throne room, leaving you alone once more.

#vixx #vixx smut #vixx angst #vixx fanfic #vixx au #vixx x reader #vixx scenarios #vixx imagines #vixx fanfiction #vixx reader-insert #vixx ravi #vixx wonshik #vixx ravi x reader #kim wonshik #kim wonshik x reader #ravi x reader #ravi kim x reader #vixx hakyeon #hakyeon x reader #leo #vixx leo #vixx hyuk #vixx hongbin #lee hongbin x reader #cha hakyeon x reader #cha hakyeon scenarios #kim wonshik imagine #kim wonshik scenarios #vixx ravi one shot #hades au

[bioticgoddess]

Songbirds and Baby Bats (V)

Series Summary: Jason Todd returns from the dead and, after the events of Under the Red Hood,he goes from Gotham to Bludhaven in search of himself…and an old friend. But getting your life back is never easy and Black Mask has enlisted the aid of Gotham’s other Crime Families as well as a few ghosts of Batman’s past. He’s coming for the Red Hood and everyone of his allies.

Part V

Strolling out of the shadows, nonchalantly turning one of his pistols over in his hands, Red Hood chuckled, “Well well. If it isn’t Owen Selkirk, how ya been buddy?”

The lanky blonde man gasped nervously, taking a few a few awkward steps away from the heavily armed and armored vigilante. “Red Hood…ahaaa haaa…wha-what do ye want?!” He stammered, eyes wide and heart racing - according to the telemetry feed on Red Hood’s helmet. The last time Red Hood and Owen Selkirk had any dealings it had ended with a shattered knee cap for the former IRA money man and information broker.

The vigilante chuckled, popping the ammo clip out of his side arm. Looking it over as part of a languidly inspection the firearm. “We both know you’re well aware of the new players on your…team,” voice ominous despite his apparent focus on the fire arm. Both knew he meant criminals and members of the proverbial underworld. “I want to know what you know.” The grin in his voice was audible. Under his helmet, the Red Hood watched the scans of Selkirk. According to the readouts he was more than nervous, he was panicked, and high. “Look,” he added as Selkirk fidgeted, “I am not in the mood beat it out of you. May just start shooting though.”

A few minutes passed and the man said nothing, only increasing the distance between himself and the Red Hood. Further into the shadows that filled the majority of the alleyway. Not that there would’ve been much light from the half vacant apartments in either building. He laughed nervously, “What makes you think I know anything Red? C’mon mate, I…I knew better than to do anything to get on your radar. Besides, I thought we were even after what ‘appened in Amsterdam.”

His head snapped up, he slammed the clip back into his sidearm, and the Red Hood’s entire body went taught. He was predator in every sense of the word with that change; eyes narrowed and jaw clenched tight behind the red helmet. With a  forced sigh, nostrils flared, Red Hood waved his free hand, “Look. I’m tired Selkirk. You still owe me for not putting you in the ground with all your friends.”  He leaned towards the Irishman, panic and fear painted a path across his face. The vigilante used his six feet and 200 pounds of Lazarus pit enhanced muscle to his advantage. “Now, I need you to pay up. Recent events Selkirk, not old news.”

“Aye...uh…what...what de ye need,” Selkirk stammered, backing further from Red Hood. Only stopping when his back was pressed against a dumpster in the alleyway. They were partly in the open, despite the shadows that cloaked them from the majority of onlookers.

“League of Assassins sent someone here, Deathstroke,” the words made Selkirk’s blood run cold and caused the color to drain from his face. “You’re also going to tell me about the Intermediary.” He tried to back pedal farther but the dumpster remained an impediment.

Selkirk shook his head emphatically, “Nope. No! You shouldn’t ask me about ‘im! Either of ‘em! Deathstroke is a nightmare made manifest and the Intermediary, he…just no. Unuh. If you don’t know who he is, consider yerself lucky.” Whoever this Intermediary was, he scared Owen Selkirk more than Deathstroke did – and Red Hood had seen evidence and the fallout of the mercenary’s work. The kind of rumors that even made him blush.

“Selkirk,” he growled, pointing the firearm at the Irishman’s knees, “Not. In. A Mood.”

Yelping and flinching, Owen Selkirk cowered, bringing his arms up over his face and head. “Deathstroke! I can tell ye about him! Ahh!”

“Well I do love a good story,” Wren chirped, dropping heavily onto the lid of the dumpster a matter of inches from Selkirk’s head. Her hands rested on her hips as she looked between the Red Hood and Selkirk. “It seems we know all the same people.” She was grinning, winking at the gun wielding vigilante. The situation visibly and thoroughly amused her her – despite scaring Selkirk so hard he shrieked and practically leapt into Red Hood’s arms. It would have surprised neither of the pair if their apparently shared informant turned out to have wet himself from the fright.

“Dude, not so close,” the firearm wielding man chastised. Immediately, Selkirk took long harried strides away from Red Hood. Standing in the middle of the alleyway made him the third point of a triangle between the duo. He was keeping an eye on Red Hood, the side arm still in his hand.

Hopping off the dumpster, Wren crossed to Selkirk. The old Irishman was drawn, weathered from years of running with the IRA. From the years spent in the Belfast shipyards - both before and after the death of his friend Michael Flynn. She put a hand on his shoulder as Red Hood closed in, the helmeted man spoke in her place, “Deathstroke. What do you know.” He pointed the firearm at Selkirk’s face.

“That’s not necessary Hood,” Wren rolled her eyes, free hand resting on the Red Hood’s forearm. Gently she pushed the gun down and away from their informant. “So, what do you say? Tell us about him?” She was playing her best version of good cop. Or sweet and innocent, either way it made him groan and roll his eyes. But it did work on Selkirk.

Nodding, suddenly pliant and less frightened, the Irishman started, “Deathstroke’s one o’their best. An American, uses one o’ those Japanese swords.” He waved a hand like there was a blade clutched in it. “But ‘e’s also skilled with those,” he pointed to Red Hood’s side arm. Selkirk was notorious for telling all without outright giving anything away.  Looking around the alley, it seemed almost like he had been waiting for someone to come upon them.

Then it happened.

Thanks to his helmet’s telemetry, Red Hood knew the sniper round was hurtling towards them a heartbeat before it hit home. As he pulled Wren back out of the way, the round pierced Owen Selkirk’s throat like a paring knife to butter. Wren herself barely had time to turn her head and cover her face before arterial spray splashed across her.  Another one flew past, this time slamming into Selkirk’s chest. He crumpled to the ground in a bloody pile.  

Red Hood pulled Wren back around the dumpster, searching the alleyway for anyone else. “Stay back,” he hissed.

“No, I have to get him,” she cried out, trying to scramble over Red Hood’s legs and out of his grip. “I have to…” she was frantic, almost breathless, blood on her chest, forearms, throat, and hair. Blood that didn’t belong to her.

“Stay here, I got this,” he growled, setting her down harder than he meant and diving out from behind the dumpster. A round missed him, cutting into the side of the dumpster as he looped his arms under Selkirk’s. Starting backwards, dragging him, he grunted, another round whizzing over his head and into the wall before they disappeared into cover. “Got him,” he rested the bloody man on the ground and tucked back as far as he could.

Helmet telemetry, analyzing the trajectory of the rounds told him they were out of range. From wherever their would-be sniper was, the dumpster was enough to keep them out of sight. “Shit,” Red Hood cursed, pressing his back against the heavy dumpster. He was weighing his options – did he risk sticking his head out or did he and Wren risk their lives to flee. Or, third option, did they wait until they could reasonably presume the coast was clear. None of them were great choices.

Behind him, tucked fully out of sight, Wren had pulled Owen Selkirk up so his head rested on her knees.

“Owen,” she whispered, “Owen don’t you give up on me.” The words fell on deaf ears. Owen Selkirk was gone. That second round has pierced his pericardium then his heart muscle. He stared blankly up at her masked face. His eyes going from deep brown to cold gray as the color drained, blood pooling around them.

Still crouched, Red Hood called to her, “We need to go little bird.” She nodded, reluctant to leave the old man behind. But she knew Red Hood wouldn’t tell her they needed to leave if it weren’t vital. Quietly she placed the dead Irishman’s hands on his chest.

 With as much speed as they could muster, Red Hood and Wren took off sprinting down the alley. Reaching back with his free hand, Red Hood caught the closest of hers. As they fled, it was the best he could do to comfort his friend.

--

Up on a rooftop, two buildings over and well above the apartments that made the alleyway where Wren and the Red Hood had been, a man unfolded himself from his hiding place. He was clad in a shade of blue that, when light hit it, had a metallic appearance. Almost like one expected of the dragon scales in fantasy tales and fairy stories to produce. He grinned behind a half face mask and dark glasses – despite the near starless night. “Well,” voice devoid of emotions, “This is going to be an excellent hunt.”

Another man reclined close by, his black and orange two tone suit somewhere between ninja and special forces. He warned, “Don’t get cocky.”

--

“I am not having this conversation right now. I am bruised, bloodied, and want a shower,” she snapped, throwing her hands up in the air. To say that having her late-father’s best friend die in front of her, his blood sticking in her hair and across her uniform, had upset Amy would be an understatement. Jason wasn’t sure if she was angry, exhausted, or just generally upset over the entire situation. That didn’t mean, however, that she hadn’t been angry at Jason for going off on his own without so much as a word to meet the informant he could find.

He pulled off his helmet, setting it down on the kitchen table and shot back, “I was trying to protect you! His death...it wasn’t my fault!”

“I don’t care! Selkirk...he-he was family once! You should’ve told me! If you’d done that then...then maybe he wouldn't have died,” her voice was raised, overwhelmed with what he could only presume was a combination of grief and nerves. Jason knew she was right, even as she turned her back to him and stormed out of the living room and kitchen area, he could admit at least that. No matter what role Selkirk had had in the organization that led to the death of Amy’s father, he didn’t deserve to die the way he did. In an alley as, he presumed, a warning for the three Bludhaven vigilantes.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Jason started the long process of  peeling out of his uniform. Everything needed to be washed. Carefully he stepped into the kitchen, tossing his gloves in with hers in the otherwise empty sink. “You can be angry but we,” he realized the water was running. Confused he looked at the faucet, it was off. “Shower,” he grumbled, shaking his head. He could feel the blood and grime caught in his own locks. In another life he’d have probably sprinted back there to join her, now…everything felt like he was swimming through mud. He knew better than anyone that not talking to her could get one, or both, of them killed. Not a thing he planned to let happen.

“I am a colossal ass,” he muttered, peeling out of his jacket and draping it over one arm. With the other he swung open the door for the under-sink cabinet. There he found a section of plastic sheeting. Laying it out with a flourish on the kitchen floor he stepped into the center of the 6 feet x 3 feet sheet. He set down his jacket gently,pushing up the sleeves of his compression shirt when he did.

Crouching, his fingers working the knots and buckles of his boots free. Their run home had removed most of the blood and other detritus, but until he’d had a chance to clean them it was a better idea to let them sit. Sighing heavily he yanked off one boot, losing his balance and almost crashing heavily to his knees. That would be a great way to end the evening - concussed or with a sprained ankle on the kitchen floor. Grumbling as he caught himself Jason cursed. A few agonizing minutes later both boots stood on the plastic along with his weapons, his pants, and the armored vest over his undershirt.

Even his socks were abandoned on the tarp.

What he found when he walked into the bedroom was the Wren costume in a pile on the floor. Amy had laid a towel out in lieu of tarp. Hesitantly, Jason put his hand on the door. He was surprised and strangely relieved to discover the door knob unlocked. Pushing it open enough that he could just see into the bathroom, Jason caught a glimpse of her disappearing behind the shower curtain. “I know you’re angry but...would you please hear me out?”

Exasperation escaped her, “Ye may as well get in here.” He could hear water cascading to the tub floor and the sound of scrubbing.

He slipped into the bathroom, the steam starting to accumulate from her shower was welcoming. The bathroom was longer than it was wide. Awkwardly he sat on the toilet lid “You have every right to be upset Irish. But I need you to trust me. You know as well as I do that the League killed him to get to us. We’ve always had each other’s backs and I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize that” He was on a roll, “Irish, you…you’re my best friend,” his voice went low, “You’re so much more than that and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She stuck her head out around the curtain, hair soaked through falling in a wavy curtain over her exposed shoulder. Save for the exhaust fan, it was silent in the bathroom. She’d turned off the water. Snatching a towel off the rod hanging to her left, Amy looked him over thoughtfully. “I guess we’re having this conversation,” her voice was barely a whisper.

Quickly as she’d appeared, Amy disappeared back behind the curtain.

“Wait…what conver…oh,” Jason caught up with her. Realizing exactly what had come out of his mouth. “Yea…I guess we are.”

Climbing wholly out of the shower, towel wrapped around her like a tube dress, Amy pointed behind her, “Wash and talk.”  He started to protest but she cut him off, shaking her towel wrapped head, “You are no less bloody than I was, you can clean up and talk.”

“Fine,” he acquiesced. Peeling out of his compression shorts and shirt, he had to hide the grin behind his hand when Amy turned beet red. She’d clearly forgotten that he’d have to strip in order to actually shower. A fact he reveled in silently as he paraded past her. The grin finally won as he stepped around his friend and disappeared behind the shower curtain. Flipping the water on, he grimaced – it started out ice cold, despite only being off a few minutes. “Ahthatscold,” he grunted, the water warming as it continued to fall.

Looking out through a clear section of the curtain, he watched Amy hop up on the bathroom counter. Presumably swinging her legs back and forth as she toweled off her hair. “You were in the middle of a thought,” she called to him over the dun.  

Squirting shampoo into his hands he worked it in his hair. The lather turning pink as it streamed down his body and down to the drain at his feet. “Maybe it’s your turn first,” he countered, cursing softly as some of the suds ended up in his eyes.

“Losing my da’ was hard. Losing you…was so much worse. You were…are…my best friend Jay and I loved you. Still do. It took me a lot longer than it should have to voice those words. The last several weeks I…we…seem to have taken for granted how easily we got on.” She was looking down at her hands, the damp hair towel clutched between them as her partially dry hair fell in a messy wave of dark curls over her right shoulder.  Swallowing she continued, “Dick was right, when he said ye’d have to be blind to see how I care about you.”

Clearing his throat, Jason jumped in before she could continue, “You took the words outta my mouth Irish.” The water shut off, “So, I have a question for you then,” he began; Amy looked at him, running a brush through her hair. She nodded. “Where do we go from here then Irish? Because I want my girl back.”

It was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Every noise – from the sound of the brush going through her hair to their hearts doing gymnastics – was almost painful. Though the steam haze she couldn’t see how anxious Jason was behind the shower curtain. There was some hope he had the same problem discerning the shade of pink the other vigilante had turned. Letting a long slow breath out, she slid off the counter. “I want my guy back,” she echoed, tying her hair in a low, loose ponytail as she cast an almost expectant look at Jason Todd.

Pushing the curtain open, Jason leaned out, bracing himself against that stupid portable bench. The second full size towel, the one he’d been using, hung just out of his normal reach. Normally he had the sense to move it. Catching it, he yanked…and brought the towel bar down with it. “Shit,” he cursed. Amy laughed. “Yea, you think it’s funny, I’m gonna have to reinstall it,” He groaned, standing back up before he lost his balance and careened forward onto the hard tile floor. Bath mats would do nothing to cushion his fall.

Regaining his balance he could hear her giggling. “I’ll, um…be in there,” she nodded to the bedroom, “While you regain your dignity love,” her voice was so much lighter than it had been in the weeks that passed since their mildly violent reunion. The door clicked shut behind her and Jason scrambled to get himself out of the confines of the shower and dried off.

--

Jason pushed the bathroom door open, the towel loosely wrapped around his hips. It was taking everything he had not the grin like an idiot. This wasn’t how he’d planned things, not by a long shot. Was even more than he’d hoped for in all honesty. But here he was, barefoot, hair still wet, taking  deliberate strides across to the bed. Where Amy sat, book in hand partially changed into an oversized tee shirt and underwear.

A deep breath and he scooped Amy up by the waist. Nearly sending her book crashing to the ground in the process. It didn’t matter. She laughed from the surprise. Foreheads resting against one another he whispered, “You have no idea how much I missed you.” The strange emptiness he’d felt the last five years, the longing for his life back - the parts and people that had mattered - gave force to those words.

She kissed him. Her book landed on the nightstand. The soft thunk it made synced with the moment she pulled away for breath. His tongue darted across his lips, warmth spreading through him. For the first time in years, though times uncountable since coming to Bludhaven, things felt right. “I miss you too Jaybird,” her voice soft, nose bumping against his.

That undid him. He covered her lips with his again, taking in the taste, smell, and feel all while the world fell away. Determined to relearn every inch of her that he’d known before his murder then to get acquainted with the parts he hadn’t yet known.

#Jason Todd #jason todd x oc #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x oc #red hood x you #red hood imagine #batman imagine #dc comics imagine #dc comics imagines #dcu imagine

[nyxmare]

i keep to myself alot.

ive become accustomed to

drugs and not knowing trust

im sorry im so vulnerable im sorry im too strong to say how much i fear the worst

gave so much blood in my heart to keep everyone else alive i was dying the whole time

all ive ever known was “fuck bitches get money”

i laughed along but i didnt reslly everr think that was funny.

do you reslly feel me? do you reslly know? i see your halo glow.

nothing is a show.

build a home inside me lets plant a garden to grow.

undercover angels dont exist and everynight u exist inside my room

i dont want to feel impending doom i dont want to be anyone but

for you

and i have so much sadness im forever mad

never placid

my heart beat is irregular

i just need your arms on me on me on me and not -

its all a blur. its hazy.

am i the face you seek to see?

in the fog and smog

breathing in the city

ive survived a lot but take my hand please im

lost

id blinding follow you whevere you lead

just dont lead me to be deceived

i have lost myself again

for you its easy and idont always know exactly what to do

im clumsy

im fragile im soft but i stiffen

did you not hear that -listen.

listen to the silence i wake up from a dream

afraid you won’t be be beside me

i slow down my breathing

i hear your gentle sighs without even opening my eyes my body finds your lips

muscle memory

every part of you i need

retracing your face with my fingertips inside my head

its cold in my bed

its cold sometimes

am i yours? are you mine?

do you have the time?

to let me be here

to let me die

sometimes it hurts.

sometimes i want to scream into the sky.

im angry a lot.

im fucked up a lot

i hate myself and yet here you are

but the click is ticking static starts building-

i dont know who she is

i dont know who i am

you cant let me drown

turn around to face me

i hide tears like im

sorry

for feeling

i dont think i have any meaning

my compass is broken

i dont know where im going

im imploding

just want to be alone

alone with you does that make sense?

does that make sense?

my first abusier had to m me didnt it?

so i could never

had my prefrontal cortex stuck in a vorext

wait stop don’t disassociate

just yet

just yet




i still fear the mirror x2

hated having to look myself in the eyes

n see the truth

there’s nothing but pain x2

but its not born from vanity

insanity what more could you demand of me?

i just wwant tk ve the knky

hate things coming too closeg to me get away from 


paranoia \sticks like the gun to my hip

ptsd got a bag just for loaded clips, magazines


remember the fear x2

remember the hands i couldn’t pry off

me

how dare i cry x?

how dare u lie

I PANICED EMBARRESSED

SO i pRAYED TO A GOD that even my childhood didn’t really believe in 


remember girls were meant to be soft/

thts what’s you said anyways 
 like i was just a pillow in bed not a human begin/ and ur not wrong
you’re only herE

for the same reason

same song

every breakup song i write sounds the same

because you’re all the same name same face same GAME, SAME.

- taste me instead i willl possess your body like a like a

sucCUB-…..SUCH A CLICHE \MANIC PIXIE DREAM GIRL MANIC PIXIE DREAM GIRL

manic PIXIEEEEE DREAMMMMMM GIRL I OWN MY OWN WORLD.

Wild, naked, her tongue uncurled — feral image of force, bursting sheer power.

and she’s a god with skin so transparent it appears blue

nyx is the mother of the night- angel of death? no, she protects

as we cry]

ourselves to sleep at night

darkness and light

offspring of chaos like all mankind be/….

ur ONLY AZ STRONG AS UR WEAKEST LINK is\ BUT WHAT IF

the weakest link is AN ARTIST U JUST don’t agree with


but fuck you I’m not the same

MANIC PIXIE DREAM

NYX

 personification of the night

the daughter of Chaos.

USED TO QUESTION IF I WAS born at the wrong time

FELT LIKE I WAS BORN JUST TO BE DESTRUCTIVE

but with so much love to give

born out of the void,

the personification of the deep darkness and shadows.

 the brother of (earth), the underworld loves me, the abyss does too just don’t let it look back into you

carried in the womb of kali and nyx

—the mother of all power—without being reduced to the role of a housewife

you said i reminded u of eve , 
dude eat the fruit of knowledge and lets fucking leave 
the can’t be tamed one, 
not even appealing just getting pitiful and sad to watch
family stopped calling
wouldn’t want the answers anyways
i hate to lie but the truth is unbearable too often
voices in Smy head please stop them 
drown them out with a rifle 
im my fathers child 
runs in the family
brain matter paints the walls
all that’s left of me r