the archer, the prey -

⁽ ¹ ⁾ .　　last words:

[crssfre]

juliette will be back @trueblu3 for the time being.

[crssfre]

☆ Put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. It's time to spread positivity! ❤❤❤ right back at you !!

[crssfre]

going to try to write here tomorrow :)

[crssfre]

Unfortunately I’m about to make this Juliette’s entire personality -

[crssfre]

☆ Put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. It's time to spread positivity! ❤❤❤ forever + always

[banschivs]

" Everyone's difficult. " Nix doesn't mind the ten or so feet down into the sea water below, while she's perched herself on the narrow railing atop the sea wall. She faces away from the water, black under the suffocating night's sky. When the rest of the country seems to get their longer days of sun, Gotham's summertime is just as murky as any other, though the air sticks close to skin and hugs the back of her neck when she bends forward to glance at her phone.

1m ago didymus: 🧊🚢? 30s ago ambrosious: still 10s ago ambrosious: 🧊🏹

The monolith of the under-construction Iceberg Lounge would drape them both in shadow were the sun up. As it is, the berg glows an eerie blue, just faint enough to make a person double-take on their way past. Draw them in. The original building of old brick has been 'carved in half' by the gargantuan glass ice shard, seemingly jutting up from far beneath the concreate foundations. At the set of double doors below that crystalline behemoth stand two of Oz's brick shit-houses, clad in black suits. They watch the women from across the street while their charge remains holed up inside.

Oswald prefers the scent of his perfumed papers over the pretence of 'fresh air' by the water. He'd scoffed at the idea of an outside eye, too. Phoenix, Juliette, and others 'like them' aren't his preferred future clientele, but his business partner knows where the money is. He'd shoed them both out the doors at the mention of a cigarette. Not while the leather sofas for his office were uncovered!

" Something I've learned since they let me out the box. " She broke out. Nix kicks her heel against the railing she's perched on, and cants her head so Juliette is not longer solely held in her periphery, and takes a long inhale of second-hand smoke. " I'm getting better at coping with that. Even if you lot confuse the fuck out of me. "

[crssfre]

" well... yeah. " you almost laugh... but instead you opt into a smile that is made tenser with teeth grinding down onto each other. eyes flick up to meet the cool blue glow that catches the curve of your form, the iceberg lounge that feels so influential in the making & finding of who crossfire was meant to be, who you were meant to be.

( sometimes you think you've found her, sitting next to a woman that has in some way or another become a healthier form of family than those who share your blood or last name –– & just the thought makes your smile lighten, jaw loosen & tension dissipate into the damp air ).

cigarette to lips, the wind hits the flickering light, throwing small pieces of ash to the ground beneath them. if anything, you're slowly growing more anxious with each inhale, but the company you keep is oddly comforting. she'd kill someone if she needed too... not something many people take ease in, but you're not like the rest of the people who tiptoe & dance around in lines across the country: maybe it's just the gotham of it all. " you lot? " confusion echoes across your features with furrowed brows & worry lines as you pull your gaze away from the magnetism that is the bright blue iceberg lounge.

" who's you lot? "

[joshhcrtnett]

Lucy Liu and Josh Hartnett

LUCKY NUMBER SLEVIN (2006)

[trueblu3-a]

IT FEELS GOOD TO BE KNOWN SO WELL. I CAN'T HIDE FROM YOU LIKE I HIDE FROM MYSELF –– I REMEMBER WHO I AM WHEN I'M WITH YOU. YOUR LOVE IS TOUGH, YOUR LOVE IS TRIED & ... TRUEBLU3 / BY ARIA .

[ashprompts]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 (𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐒) — 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

a collection of sentence starters from the album by boygenius, "the record." feel free to alter pronouns/text as you see fit

"give me everything you've got, i'll take what i can get."

"i want to hear your story and be a part of it."

"who would i be without you?"

"speak to me until your history's no mystery to me."

"talk to me until the words run dry."

"i'll give everything i've got, please take what i can give."

"i want you to hear my story."

"it's a bad idea and i'm all about it."

"when you wake up, i'll be gone again."

"in another life we were arsonists."

"mama told me that it don't run on wishes, but that i should have fun."

"so many hills to die on."

"run out of gas, out of time, out of money."

"you're doing what you can, just making it run."

"take a break, make your escape."

"can you give me twenty dollars?"

"i know you have twenty dollars."

"she's asleep in the back seat looking peaceful enough to me."

"we're coming back from where no one lives."

"[name], i'm sorry."

"i just make it up as i go along."

"i can feel myself becoming someone only you could want."

"now i'm wide awake, spiraling."

"i'll get a real job, you'll go back to school."

"we can burn out in the freezing cold."

"you know how i get when i'm wrong."

"i can feel myself becoming somebody that i'm not."

"i'm 27 and i don't know who i am."

"you can't help but become the sun."

"when you don't know who you are, you fuck around and find out."

"it feels good to be known so well."

"i can't hide from you like i hide from myself."

"you already hurt my feelings in the way only you could."

"i remember who i am when i'm with you."

"your love is tough." / "your love is tried and true blue."

"you've never done me wrong, except for that one time."

"it doesn't matter anymore."

"who won the fight?"

"i don't know, we're not keeping score."

"i'm trying to be cool about it."

"wishing you were kind enough to be cruel about it."

"telling myself i can always do without it, knowing that it probably isn't true."

"it's impossible to pass your tests."

"i'm trying to forget about it."

"kindly get out of my head about it."

"once i took your medication to know what it's like." / "and now i have to act like i can't read your mind."

"i ask you how you're doing and i let you lie."

"we don't have to talk about it."

"i'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning."

"it's nice to see how good you're doing."

"we know it isn't true."

"it would only take the energy to fix it."

"i don't know why i am the way i am."

"not strong enough to be your man."

"i can't stop staring at the ceiling fan."

"spinning out about things that haven't happened."

"do you see us getting scraped up off the pavement?"

"i lied, i am just lowering your expectations."

"half a mind that keeps the other second guessing."

"always an angel, never a god."

"i think i've been having revelations."

"skip the exit to our old street and go home."

"go home alone."

"you live up in my head."

"i've been making music since you told me to do it."

"i just wanna know who broke your nose."

"figure out where they live, so i can kick their teeth in."

"if this isn't love then what the fuck is it?"

"i guess just let me pretend."

"i don't wanna die. that's a lie, but i'm afraid to get sick."

"if you're not enough, then i give up."

"i used to think if i'd just close my eyes, i will disappear."

"if you love me, you will listen to this song."

"i could tell that you were serious."

"it gave us more time to embarrass ourselves."

"i might like you less now that you know me so well."

"there's a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in."

"i am not an old man having an existential crisis."

"i never thought you'd happen to me."

"will you be a satanist with me?"

"mortgage off your soul to buy your dream vacation home in florida."

"tryin' to score some off-brand ecstasy."

"will you be an anarchist with me?"

"sleep in cars and kill the bourgeoisie."

"at least until you find out what a fake i am."

"spray paint my initials on an atm."

"i burn my cash and smash my old tv."

"will you be a nihilist with me?"

"if nothing matters, man, that's a relief."

"if nothing can be known, then stupidity is holy."

"if the void becomes a bore, we'll treat ourselves to some self-belief."

"oh, you know what i should do?"

"it's so hard to come back."

"you could absolutely break my heart."

"that's how i know that we're in love."

"i don't need the symbol of a scar."

"isn't it enough that we stripped down to our skin?"

"i feel crazy in ways i never say."

"will you still love me if it turns out i'm insane?"

"i know what you'll say, but it helps to hear you say it anyway."

"damn, that makes me sad." / "it doesn't have to be like that."

"if you rewrite your life, may i still play a part?"

"i can't imagine you without the same smile in your eyes."

"there is something about you that i will always recognize."

"if you don't remember, i will try to remind you."

"i will go on and on until it all comes back."

"i'm out of my depth at a public beach."

"i never listened, i had to see it for myself."

"making peace with my inevitable death."

"i guess i did alright, considering." / "tried to be a halfway decent friend."

"an honest fool with more bad habits than you can count."

"was anyone ever so young?"

"breaking curfew with illegal fireworks."

"unpacking god in the suburbs."

"you don't have to make it bad just cause you know how."

"writing the words to the worst love song you've ever heard."

"an incantation like an anti-curse."

"i think that you're special." / "you told me once that i'm selfish."

"you said my music is mellow, maybe i'm just exhausted."

"you think you're a good person because you won't punch me."

"i love you. i don't know why, i just do."

"you're not special, you're evil."

"you don't get to tell me to calm down."

"you made me feel like an equal, but i'm better than you and you should know that by now."

"it looked like it hurt and i wasn't sorry."

"i should have left you right there."

"you don't know me."

"i wanna be happy."

"i'm ready to walk into my room without looking for you."

"i'll go up to the top of our building."

"i can't feel it yet, but i am waiting."

[batfall-done]

a laugh falls as juliette mentions her mother , light in formation as it's generous in it's give (he hides the pain, wants to give a good ending to her night). a shared memory between them both. ' i think your mother does it more for herself ' bruce softly utters , though even with those words he already knows that they don't truly need to dwell on the subject. ' jewelry huh ? ' nose slightly crinkles , and he already wonders if it had been jewelry that had somehow been gifted in hopes that she wear it on instagram. ' wine ? ' he reaches for a clementine in bowl as he goes to peel it with fingertips. the phone shifted once more , ' well ... that can always be regifted '

the last of skin pieces palmed in hand , as he makes his way to the compost bin , and throws them in. ' i think both our parents did that ... - wine has never been something the two of us ever needed ' a slight raise to wording as his true sentiments be heard through carefully structured sentence. ' i've never liked parties but ? i would have liked to see you ... that's what always made it special ' a smile works it's way upon melancholic features that have the faint tinge of light bruising. ' big celebrations were never for us '

us said with a weight , a knowledge that reached far back into their history with one another. in previous years he had indeed attended - sitting at the edge of the table , and panic stricken when asked a question. he could manage a few hours before he came to her side and kissed her cheek with a quick ' happy birthday '

i feel less lonely on nights when she calls or when i call her. the nights dwindling as the months go on , and the two of us knowing the risk of being intertwined with one another. her mother the driving force behind my protective nature , the reason for pulling away. we both know that there are other factors , and i'm aware that the scrambling technology will only last another thirty minutes. i start the trek upstairs , climbing marble steps as phone is pressed against ear and clementine is held in the other.

' i'll have to look tomorrow ... to see what you wore , and i'm sure your mother disapproved ' another laugh as he steps into the small office that has a semblance of a 'home', and he QUICKLY inhales from the pain of that small act. ' regardless , something tells me that you were nothing short of stunning ' he can only imagine , and he hates himself for missing it - knowing that she already forgives. ' first time i wished i was there ' / @crssfre

[crssfre]

you open your bedroom door: the lights are out & you stifle a sigh. there's something so lonely about the black & grey, about the art on the walls that lacks any humanity behind it ( money spent for the point of spending money, how heartless in your own existence ). the light is flicked on quickly & he pulls back your attention. he has a habit of doing such a thing. " trust me i wish you were there too... we would've laughed at how everyone was pretending they loved me oh so much. " you turn to shut the door behind you & try to force a smile on your lips as you slip next into the bathroom.

the phone is put on speaker mode before you place it gently ( so not to irritate his ears ) on the counter top. " honestly she didn't talk to me for much of the night... she was too busy organizing all of it & getting mad at the caterers to even focus on me. i behaved. " as usual. it makes you sad to think about, the little perfect doll, the well behaved daughter in front of audiences, the disappointment behind closed doors.

you unzip your dress & as the silk fabric falls to the ground, there's a sigh of relief that spills past stained lips. nights spent in skin tight suit is more comfortable than than the performance you you were caught in tonight. " honestly this shit makes me more tired than... y'know, our usual nights on the town. " your laughter rings out through the bathroom & finger tips move to comb your hair up into a ponytail, pulled from your face.

i miss you... you nearly say it, lips even part to spit out such words but you bite it back, swallow down such an intimate truth: he knows, he knows you miss him ( you hope he does ). this is the closest to a life you'll have together, just talking, laughing, telling each other how your days continued on in monotonous stories that seem interesting if even only to you.

you run the sink & lather face wash on your hands before pulling it across skin painted on with a thick layer of makeup ( covering thin white scars scattered across your features ). " i think this'll be the first time i go to sleep before four am in weeks, but i'd probably fall asleep even quicker if you were here. " / @arkhameir

[crssfre]

juliette is at such a weird place in her life it makes me emotional. she just graduated from law school to prove a point to her mother but she doesn't want anything to do with the degree. every day she takes photos of herself around gotham to post on instagram, and then she goes out at night to destroy her body, get hurt, and try to stop people like her mother without actually stopping her mother because of how complex her feelings are, and then she goes home alone and does it all again.

[crumbargento]

Tři oříšky pro Popelku - Václav Vorlíček - 1973 - Czechoslovakia/East Germany

[jokemoved5thewrathofkhan]

Knocking on Jules’ windows from the outside summons Joker. She’s in a high rise. That’s impossible. Sea winds muffle how they laugh at him, goading him to turn and see what’s to become of his infant son. What feels like an ice pick to the chest pivots Joker even though the baby hasn’t made a sound. Ivaylo gums his own fist and grizzles in his baby seat until his father lunges to tear him from harm's way. Sokol remains seated next to him, though he should be monitoring Joker for the inevitable shortness of breath and terror that’s swamped his eyes once he notices the strange faces pressed against the glass. They’re smiling, too; windburned and blistering from the sun.

Werewolf backpedals a touch too fast with an infant in his arm. He doesn’t bobble Ivaylo, but catches himself and rakes his free hand through his hair while settling the baby against his chest and shoulder. Ivaylo doesn’t react to those from the outside and neither does Jules, but they knock again. 

“Arthur!” a woman in athleisure wear that he doesn’t recognize calls. The knocking reaches a crescendo. Joker bares his teeth and suffers a ragged inhale that Sokol doesn’t arrive in time to still. Four people stand in a row along Jules’s windows, grafted to the glass. Joker coughs into his free elbow and bounces Ivaylo as if that was his intention all along. 

His train of thought’s long derailed, but Joker flicks a wrist and propels it in frantic circles that manages to fish out, “Y-you brother’s…” he coughs again. Doesn’t clear the phlegm from his lungs or the dried blood from his throat. “My fucking informant on the running D.A. — who I really…” the makeup amplifies his theatrical cringe, “Really…do not want in office for a fucking host of reasons…a-and your mother…” Joker checks Ivaylo to ensure the infant’s not about to fuss, then uses his own face to nudge the baby’s as he wrestles his iPhone from his pocket. “You know what?” He shrugs at Juliette. “Don’t take my word for it. Let’s hear from a sister and a mother...since...apparently...today's theme is girl power.”

FaceTime gets a response on the first ring. Spaghetti’s coiled around Nix’s forearm like a bangle. She must be cleaning the albino corn snake's terrarium…or he’s in shed, which never isn’t disgusting. 

“Who’s the bitch?” Nix’s tongue-in-cheek observation about her husband being in a strange apartment dies as soon as he flips the camera and lets Juliette fill the frame. She doesn’t jump back, but quirks her mouth and blurts, “Whoa, fuck! Is it my turn for the tour?”

“In thirty seconds or less, may we please have your sagely..." he over-emphasizes, "Womanly advice in regards to stalking family members to try and mine ulterior motives?”  

Nix pockets her tongue in her cheek, purses her lips, then returns the volley, “Why would anyone spy on Henry? The guy’s as scandalous as a ham sandwich."

“And Mrs. King…?” Joker hasn’t allowed his eyes to stray from Juliette even though the susurrations in his ear spike in volume. 

“Being an omega-level bitch doesn’t mean she’s plotting your downfall, Jules,” Nix unintentionally echoes her husband. “Not everyone's like the Wayne’s.” 

[crssfre]

you watch him with the annoyance of a little girl, arms folded & lips pushed into the tiniest of pouts ( & for a moment you feel like a little girl once more too, told off, scolded... this time for things that toe the line of uncertainty, not for things your mother has dictated for your / then again what truly is the difference in these circumstances? ). gaze nearly piercing, you refuse to take it off the other man even as he begins to react... to what? you don't know.

features soften & the arms previously crossed so tensely over your chest fall back down to your side. a moment of silence passes before he lifts his son into his arms... you take one step forward, away from the stairs & as gently as you can manage: " are you alright? " how can i help moves to spill from your lips before he's coughing out words that yet again twist upon your features.

henry, harvey, your mother...

unsure if it's just the night time that's paralyzing your thoughts or the abruptness of his need for your family to remain in tact just another day longer, but you're mouth hangs open, nothing left to say even as nix answers the phone. the camera turns & you instinctually want to smile, but instead you bite down inside of your cheek... hard, harder, harder until you pull skin off the lining along with a slow yet steady drip of metallic on your tongue.

there's nothing for you to say: they know, you know, who your mother is, who your father was, & who your brother is turning out to be. you cannot escape your blood, you cannot escape your name... so you wait in silence for a few seconds, of which turn to nearly a minute as your train your eyes out the window, away from the joker

" if she wants bruce dead or harmed i'm sorry i can't let that go. " it's stated matter of factly, because that's what it is, that's how it is & how it will always be in your head. " i couldn't give two shits about my own downfall or whatever. " it would be easier that way, you think, maybe you wish it to be so sometimes ( but in your family that wasn't allowed, you couldn't think of a life without the kings, it was near blasphemy ). " but i can't handle that, i won't. "

[abenzstern]

kinda reminiscent of bludhaven, isn't it? that recklessly volatile need to prove herself immortal [...] dick sees familiarity in the sentiment. like a really screwed up trip down memory lane, it all happens in slow motion. first, there's an arrow, unnotched and idle as her fingers seek the bowstring. then, there's an interlude of miscalculation — juliette has this nasty habit of never watching her six. her six is noticed, but in a stroke of fate ( manipulated by bruce wayne himself ), nightwing watches it for her. the gun fires. so do his hamstrings as he springs.

a hit to the shoulder is a small price to pay for another shot at immortality, right? hell, he'd been through worse only a month ago.

never mind the sharp lance of pain. dick knows it's hit nothing important — though her sense of urgency is endearing. icarus almost flew directly into the sun, didn't she? somehow, his theatrics subverted her violent path into disintegration.

" seemed like a good idea at the time, " he acknowledges with a lopsided grin, palm pressing flat to his wound as if entirely unbothered. dick wasn't unbothered, but held his course all the same. " should head back to belfry. you any good at stitches? or should i call babs? "

it is decidedly not an option to call bruce. he is certain juliette feels the same. trailing behind her, dick pauses at the passenger side of her car, senses alert to the incoming sirens. his blood is everywhere.

" aw, hell. gordon's gonna get a kick out of covering this one up. reckon i should get him a fruit basket? "

[crssfre]

" everything always seems like a good idea at the time. " your voice mixes in two contradicting tones: one, annoyance –– the bullet had your name carved into it ( stupidly & recklessly, & yet your name is your name ), two, gratefulness ( the directionality of the silver was aimed for your spine, it was going to be a final blow rather than the inconvenience it has become of him ). brown eyes flick in his direction with brows knit so tightly together, even beneath your mask the worry lines that decorate your forehead seem prevalent & prominent.

" i can do it, if you're fine with that. " are you as good as barbara? no, but that should come with the territory... very few of your friends are as good as her, but you're good enough, more than good enough ( many of your own smaller, better healed scars are cleaned & fixed by your own hands / the same can be said for your more hideous endeavors ).

slipping into the front seat of your car, hands instinctually white knuckle the black leathered wheel before you even start driving... you can hear a lecture now, it's not something you have the heart or time to worry about.

you sigh.

gaze flicks over to see him as he gets comfortable ( blood dripping into your seats, you silently thank god it washes out ). " a fruit basket, a gift card, a thank you letter... " voice trails off as you start to drive, faster than you should, not as fast as you have before. every occasional second you're glancing over to ensure the color isn't leaving his cheeks. sure, the wound is not as bad as it could have been nor as bad as he has had before, but the guilt makes it worse in your own eyes. " i'm going as fast as i can... i'm so sorry, genuinely so sorry. "

[moosings-deactivated20231019]

RANDOM DIALOGUE (QUESTIONS) PROMPTS (2/?)

ₓ ˚ .   ୭   ˚ ○ ◦ ˚     as always, some triggering content may be present! change any pronouns to better suit your muse(s) needs!   ˚ ◦ ○ ˚   ୧   . ˚ ₓ

why is it always my fault?

why do people call you that?

do you know anyone here?

how’s your wound?

are you worth a second chance?

after all we’ve been through, why?

when are you going to apologize to me?

you did this? for me?

will you promise me?

can’t you be on my side? just once?

what exactly do you do for a living?

do you even hear yourself?

sorry, what did you say?

did you mean what you said?

can i kiss you?

truth or dare?

are you comfortable?

what were they like?

what time do you want me to pick you up?

how can you say that to me?

how could you possibly think that was a good idea?

did you enjoy yourself?

why don’t you stay over?

why hire someone, when you can just do it yourself?

out of everything you could’ve said, why that?

do i know you?

you love me?

how old do you think i am?

why do they treat me like that?

have i ever given you bad advice?

do you want some company?

do you think last night was a mistake?

what are you in the mood for?

do i remind you of anyone?

where were you?

who did this to you?

can i have some cash?

tell me why i should believe a thing you say?

sorry, do you have the time?

why don’t you find out for yourself?

where do you think you’re going?

do you want one?

when am i ever wrong?

who do you think you are?

where are you going to go?

run that by me again?

i don’t know what to say?

can you kill?

why is it never your fault?

would you kill for it?

why did you do this to me?

can you be quiet?

what’s so funny?

why don’t you want to go home?

how are you so calm?

have we met before?

what was it like?

are you seriously asking me that right now?

what’s with the third degree?

you want me?

can you help me?

would you care for a dance?

are you sure you want to spend another night alone?

why do i have to apologize?

what am i supposed to do if you’re not here?

why would they do that?

do you want me to grab dinner?

can you help me bring these in?

how annoying can you be?

how do you think that makes me feel?

why didn’t you fight back?

what are you so afraid of?

can you tell me what happened?

you did this all by yourself?

how can i help you?

how do you sleep at night?

you’re sorry?

how do you keep a secret like that?

what’s going on?

we’re friends, right?

how about i take you home?

why won’t you just listen to me?

you wanna mess around?

what does that eleven mean?

when will you learn?

how could you even ask me something like that?

does it hurt?

why did you do it?

can you hear me?

do you have a ride home?

you’re afraid of the dark?

would you like to try?

why did you do that for me?

you really think i’m beautiful?

is it noticeable?

where did you get all that money?

where did you get this?

do you know what i did?

where did you go?

like what you see?

can i touch you? here?

how many people have you killed?

can i borrow your phone?

can you keep a secret?

do you want us to stop?

where have you been?

another round?

when’s the last time you had a full night’s rest?

do you really think that’s a good idea?

what does that have to do with anything?

have you eaten anything today?

why do you think you feel that way?

what happened to them?

what’s your problem?

you didn’t really think you were safe, did you?

have you come to apologize?

do you know who i am?

do you want to be alone?

[crssfre]

⁽ * ⁾ i always wanted to die clean and pretty ... but i'd be too busy on working days! so i am relieved this turbulence wasn't forecasted ( i couldn't have changed anyways ) i am relieved i left my room tidy ... goodbye. / juliette king, a vigilante oc by aria.

[crssfre]

@absensia : do you have a cigarette?

" uh, that depends. " forearms press into the cold metal rails of the balcony, slight pain accentuated by the bite of the cool summer air wind. you like it that way –– a hater of heat & a lover of the ache. that is what encapsulates you. the other burn, the extra burn, comes from the smoke your lips twitch to inhale. you've tried to be good tonight, tried to go back to the girl you once were: good, fake, a smile always & poise beyond compare. what if she's forever dead, what if she's never coming back?

that's a problem for another time, right now you take the opportunity as it presents itself to be one step further from the sweet girl you used to pretend to be.

" promise you won't tell anyone? " hands stretch into satin pockets cleverly hidden in your gown & you can't help the smile that cracks onto your lips... first comes out a pack of camels, then, your other arm reaches into the other pocket, a red lighter. " because if you do then i'll know to never lend you a smoke again. "