#but damn this city seems so bleak today

[soryualeksi]

Talk of child death cw.

[youandmedead]

𝕽𝖊𝖚𝖓𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝕬𝖙 𝕷𝖆𝖘𝖙 -𝕷𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖙 𝖝 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

Warnings: Swearing, blood, angst, basic vampire shit, rushed ending, Potentially ooc (been a while since I’ve watched QOTD)

Synopsis: (Y/n) finally reunites with their creator after so many years of deep slumber.

Notes: (!GN READER!) This'll be based off of Movie Queen of the Damned Lestat.

Some could claim that this Oneshot is a massive cliché…they would be right by that but I had an idea and rolled with it 🤷

The darkness that the night brought engulfed the sky making it bleak and misery induced. However despite the time, the streets of the vast city were still bustling and the kaleidoscopic street lights shun down to the Earth below and illuminated everything that was within a close proximity of them.

As (y/n) sat upon one of the tallest billboards and watched all of those wretched souls below, they couldn’t help but ponder over the idea about what life would have been like if they had not met him…if they had not been turned to the creature that they were today. (Y/n) drew their knees up to their chest and let out a deep sigh, they were always so conflicted over the emotions that they held for the now not so mysterious stranger that yearned so much for companionship.

At first Lestat had scared them, at that time it was either become a vampire and be his companion for years to come or die right on the spot and as fear coiled around their very being and held them in its vice like grip (y/n) panicked and accepted the vampire’s offer. Throughout those few couple of years, fear was the only drive in the relationship between the two…(Y/n)'s constant worry over displeasing their creator grew and grew as he became more powerful. However, not so long after that their views changed, he asked (y/n) about their life before he turned them and soon in turn, he opened up about his life both before he met you and before he also became a vampire....he became more thoughtful and a strange sense of twisted sweetness seemed to have possessed him. Love and fondness was beginning to bloom in their chest….perhaps they were crazy and perhaps they were not. They had constantly yearned for him, until one day the emotions that (y/n) held for Lestat were strangely reciprocated. They spent their days hunting, playing music together, and exploring the world.

Yet soon after Lestat disappeared and entered his great slumber the vampire (y/n) grew lonesome and eventually they too took to rest for many, many years up until the early 2000s.

~

Now it has been 3 years since they have awoken and they still have not seen the man who they held conflicted emotions for, in person. Whenever they had explored the ‘new’ world since their awaken (y/n) has saw his face along with a group of others plastered upon every biggest city’s billboards, much like the very one they were sitting on (one of which held a platform that ran against it).

They adjusted themselves and lay down with an arm propping up their head and an arm covering their eyes all whilst humming a song that had became increasingly popular since their great slumber came to an end. They felt themselves drift off into thought about the old days until they heard a startling creak and a vast rock of the ledge, which balanced on the billboard.

"Well, well, well…it seems that it was far less difficult to track you down. How are you…my little (Y/n)?”

(Y/n) bolted up and looked in the direction where that oh so familiar voice came from. Their eyes were blurry due to the adjustment but they knew almost automatically that it was him.

Lestat.

“Holy shit…” (Y/n) hauled themselves up and rubbed their eyes once again to get rid of the blur, “Is it really you?”

A slight chuckled escapes his lips, “Why of course…who else could it possibly be? You don’t see many who have as charming looks as I.”

They smirk and shrug, “Meh, you could be some poser.”

They walk towards Lestat’s towering figure and look up gazing into his eyes, “I think I may need some evidence that it is really the man you claim to be.”

Lestat gives a deep chuckled and hooks a finger underneath (Y/n)’s chin, it seemed as if he was staring straight into their soul…looking for something in particular.

“You gonna do something or not?” (Y/n) whispers, anticipation coursing through them.

He teasingly leans in further, his breath tickling their skin.

“Patience little one,” he replies.

He pulls them in further until both their lips are just barely touching, believing he would make the move (Y/n) closed their eyes and waited patiently, until he backed off suddenly. After they opened their eyes they were met with a sly smirk by Lestat.

They rolled their eyes tutting and whispered, “Asshole.”

There relief was almost instantly replaced by a sense of rage leaking venomously from the cavern, in which they tried to lock these thoughts and emotions away.

“Now, now…is that any way to greet me after so many years?”

Rage coursed through their being and they pushed Lestat out of the way, “It is considering you abandoned me…and then as soon as you awoke you replaced me,” (Y/n) then maliciously grinned and raised their hands up mockingly, “But then again that is on me, I should have knew that would’ve happened considering the way you went on back then.”

Lestat stayed quiet for a moment his smirk now faded away.

“Despite you complaining about betrayal and abandonment from those you loved and cared you still did it to the person who stuck by your side the longest….fucking rat bastard, after everything I’ve done for you?!”

(Y/n) paced closer towards him, fangs now being bared and a hand prepared to strike. Their right hand was prepared to slash his face until he caught it almost instantly, his grip growing tighter by the second.

They growled, “Fuck you, Lestat…”

They sighed and eventually the male vampire loosened his grip on their wrist, “The thing that pisses me off the most is that I can’t bring myself to hate you, even after all of the shit you’ve pulled.”

He placed a finger under (Y/n)’s chin again and forced them to look him in the eyes, “I am so sorry Mon Cher,” he rested his forehead upon the other vampire’s, “It was wrong of me to have just left you there.”

“Damn right it was,” they whispered, emotion overwhelming them.

Lestat leaned in and kissed them, an exchange of emotion flowing between the two. Lestat did not feel regret, that feeling was no longer as much of a role in his newly found and attained nature, however he must admit that he felt some form relief when he came across (y/n) after so many years. In addition to this (Y/n) felt a range of emotions coursing through them also; ones of which they knew would cause harm and they craved to act upon them however they also craved companionship once again…they knew that the man that stood before them and kissed them with such passion had them wrapped around his finger.

One of the main things that Lestat was talented at, was reeling his play things back in when he felt was necessary and on his own accord.

(Y/n) quickly reeled themselves back and gripped onto the collar of Lestat’s leather trench coat and looked down, “I just…”

Lestat took (Y/n)’s chin in his index finger and thumb and tilted their head up, making sure they looked him directly in the eyes, “I know it’s been a long time and I’m prepared to make up for all of that lost time mon Cher…nothing can excuse what I have done to you, I don’t expect you to forgive me right away…” he broke eye contact and look at the floor for a moment, “But if you do eventually find it within your heart, I will be eternally grateful and vow to never leave your side again.”

(Y/n) rested their forehead upon Lestat’s chest and they sighed in defeat. “I’m pissed you know? You randomly show up after all these years, famous and all the arm candy you could yearn for…” they slowly raise their head up a grit their teeth, “But what hurts even more is that you awoke much earlier than I thought and never bothered to come look for me! You didn’t even care if I was alive or not…you just never fucking cared in general.” Ripping their hands away from the man that had abandoned them so long ago, (y/n) took a step back and ran a hand through their hair, taking a deep breath they tried their utmost best to remain composed. Unfortunately, tears were brimming in their eyes and the sensation of weakness began to settle in - they hated it. Being vulnerable in front of someone was not in their nature, however within these circumstances their carefully crafted mask began to slip.

Lestat levitated towards (Y/n) and spoke quietly into their ear, “It’s okay to let your mask slip you know?”

(Y/n) whipped around and glared at him, "Are you also aware of that?"

He stays silent for a moment, “I know that you hold conflicted opinions mon Cher,” they grew closer and closer to them and tilted their chin up once more using his index finger, “Just please…”

They looked into his eyes and sighed heavily, “It’ll take time,”

Lestat’s eyes widened slightly at that statement.

“But don’t you dare be taking this lightly Lestat,” Y/n warned, “The things you’ve done would be irreparable to some, so be lucky that I’m giving you this opportunity to earn my forgiveness.”

They gave Lestat a stern glare, “Understand?”

The male vampire nods and takes one of their hands in his, he brushed the back of it with his thumb and speaks, “

[prototypelq]

Finally had some time to play Bleak Faith again! (I wasted all my free time since the last time on DRG with friends 😅)

By all means, this game is janky, the locations are enormous, with staircases four times their required size, and since some of the assets, including animations were bought by the devs on asset stores - the quality of enemies and animations does vary and faver in places.

But this game feels so right for me.

I'm not a soulslikes fan, not at all, in fact, I get very annoyed when the game acts cruel to the player (looking at you, poison swamps), but Bleak Faith, despite the jankiness, hasn't been anything like that at all.

All the staircases and the few tight corridors had me on edge, cause the souslike-subgenre takes the sadistic traits of it's original quite often, but there haven't been any jumpscares from the corners yet (even if the enemies do teleport behind you, which is sudden, the attack windup usually leaves enough time to dodge for you).

The experience itself feels like it's supposed to be more meditative, dreamlike and contemplative, rather than teeth-grinding. You explore the gorgeous artpieces before you, with gorgeous music in your ears, and when the time comes, that city, the machine, tests you back. The enemies are both sucked-dry of life husks, zombified pieces of this city, or the architecture in a way, left as decayed remnants of this place to be forgotten, and at the same time, they are the gatekeepers of these wonderful structures.

i dunno this game makes me feel meditative and contemplative and I really love that okay. also, again, the... post-post-apocalyptic high tech religious fantasy? ... the genre mix grips me very hard with this one.

also, I can clearly see why this game can be janky at times. Cause it was developed by three people, and it has:

melee fight system with tons of different weapons; ranged system, including a magic system; the fight system includes parries, dodges and jumping, which are all valid evasive options; a random dismemberment system which has limbs flying off into the depthless below; equipment system including upgrades and slots for stat boosts, with differentiation between heavy/medium/light armour; equipment crafting system; character upgrade system with stats, perks, and active abilities which diversify into builds; enemy mounting system; some perks talk about summons so a summoning system too.

and these are only the ones i've encountered in my three hours with the game.

The freakin latest installment of the souls series doesn't have ALL of these mechanics. I don't know why the devs wanted to have EVERYTHING on the 'action game' mechanics lists. I think this only lacks a Devil Trigger and a Ninjitsu from MGRR, granted, the dismemberment system is already in the game!!!! Three people developed this!!! Why haven't they cut any of features????? It's not feature bloat either, cause you will be using most of these in the playthrough, but damn, some are so situational, but they require dev time too and the fact that the devs had so much ambition both exhilarates and terrifies me a little. As a consumer, I am Not disappointed, but wow man. It's a very high mark to make your game both a visual and an auditorial masterpiece, and adding so much features on top of that seems insane to me.

okay, I think I've wrote out my emotional part, here are some screens

speaking of the size of the game - you see that ladder on the wall? I saw it from another island and wanted to check out. With the size of this game and how passionate the devs are about their spaces, I have no doubt this is an actual route somewhere, and not just a background decoration. Hopefully I'll get to explore it later, for today I have finally defeated the first boss.

Konrad is a good tutorial fight, he made me engage with pretty much every mechanic in the game - parries, ranged magic, dodges and jumps for some of the attacks. Good boss, I'd love to hear some lore of his.

On the staircase, leading below after Konrad, there was a half-broken wall. This is an idle husk, it's not an enemy and can't do anything. I love the implication it was forgotten and left to die between the outer and the inner wall somehow. Sad and mildly horrifying.

I dunno who this guy is, but he said hello and continued to stay there. This is now my bro and I love him. I'll come back for him.

Again, the genre mix of this game works wonders for me. Brick archway bridge above nothingness, leading into a tight corridor, illuminated by a red LED, where the walls seem to be covered in ventilation ways that spread like some sort of disease or organs, or simply uncaring for the needs of the residents of the lower levels. I dunno which is the right interpretation yet, but it feels like all of them are valid in a way.

The style again. Beautiful medieval architecture, big metal gate-arches with the road of paving stones, contrasted to the hrushchevkas in the background, all overgrown and forgotten.

Visually, this is a feast I cannot get enough of.

The thing I CAN get enough of is THIS.

So, I set off to explore this city, and I run into some extremely tight corridors, so much so that the character obscures most of my vision and the floating behind camera doesn't really allow you to see anything. Deeply uncomfortable. After only a few steps, I get ambushed by a new enemy that is leagues faster than anything I've met in the game before, it's pretty much an actual mugger in an alleyway. I was able to get rid of it, and headed forward, where there was a weird long curved-around corridor ahead. Seems like it follows the curved shape of the outer wall of the buildings here, so it must go through the whole thing around. It seemed the right way to go, and the long curved corridor seemed like another architectural marvel of the game, so I wasn't too worried about lack of other enemies.

I SHOULD HAVE. Cause a dozen or another steps into I saw this red-eyed spider-centipede-like Thing, which was swiftly advancing on my position. It's legs made the worst possible sound too. I freaked the hell out, and ran back as fast as possible. The curved corridor merged back into the uncomfortably-tight alleyway, which was noticeably smaller in width, and I thought that was my saving grace. Wrong again, cause this horror was unbothered, and as I finally confirmed, that the enemies do not deaggro, it chased me all the way to the checkpoint.

This thing is horrible, I hate it so much, 10/10. I became much better around spiders and other insects in latest years, so I am pretty fine around them irl, but this thing is made out of 1000000% nightmare fuel, it's running sound sounds like it has all legs accounted for, and its horrifying as hell. I was only saved by it's predictable lunge attack with long windup and winddown, but damn do I not want to meet another thing like this. (I'll most likely have to...)

[holykillercake]

Hazy Justice - 02

01 03

pairing: Cop!Smoker x MilitaryDoctor!Reader

word count: 2k

summary: After eight years serving your country in a war, you returned to your hometown as the new head of Trauma Surgery in one of the best hospitals in the country. You were expecting a calmer life now, but suddenly you see yourself choosing between your brain and your heart, light and dark, justice and evil.

notes: I guess you saw the gif already! We have the introduction of a new character!

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

Stiff neck and a headache. This is what you get for sleeping on your living room floor. 

You took a quick shower and some painkillers before heading for another day of work. On your silent drive towards the hospital, your mind ran through various things. 

The first being the list of your patients, the ones you had to check upon first, their conditions, and find out the attending who took care of them during the night, ask them about possible complications and current situation. 

The second subject hovered your head as more of a question, though. Had you finally met your neighbor, or was it just a dream, the result of your exhausted state? 

You spotted a cute restaurant when you stopped at the red light, perhaps you´d have lunch there today, it was near the hospital, and the place gave you a ¨good food¨ vibe. 

The image of the man you dreamed about wandered its way back into your thoughts, despite your difficulty of seeing a perfect picture. His hair was actually the only thing you were sure about. White, a single lock was falling on his forehead, but it didn´t look like it was meant to be there. Maybe it was just ¨end of the day¨ hairstyle. 

You parked your car on your designated spot and looked around the parking lot. It was the first time you´ve seen it so crowded. It made sense, though. 

A yellow Jaguar drove in a couple of minutes after you did, and since that was the only yellow car you had seen so far, and you spot the small white stuffed bear hanging on the mirror, you knew it was Law. 

He left his car and walked over to you with a strange expression.

¨Y/N-ya, what are you doing here?¨ always so straight to the point.

¨Well, good morning, Law. How are you?¨ the man rolled his eyes, but you refused to answer until he learned how to talk to people properly. 

¨Morning, Y/N-ya. I´m good. What are you doing here?¨

¨What do you mean? I work here.¨ you gave him a duh face. 

¨Yeah, but not today.¨ your head tilted to the side ¨Today is your day off.¨

¨My day off?¨ you were so used to not having days off that it didn´t even cross your mind. You asked the HR person everything but days off. ¨What am I supposed to do on my day off?¨

¨I don´t know, Y/N-ya. Go explore the city or have some rest. Today you only get inside this hospital wounded or dead.¨ he said bitterly, patted your shoulder, and entered the building. 

The only thing besides work you had planned for the day was paying a visit to that cute restaurant, so it took you some good thinking to come up with a plan. Maybe Tashigi was free, and you two could do something together. 

<Mornin´ Tashigi! U free today?>

<Morning, Y/N-san! I just need to take somethings to the office then I´m free!>

<Do u mind if we meet there?>

<Of course not! Smoker-san will be there too I think. You said you wanted to meet him.>

<Perfect then! See you in a bit ~>

<See you, Y/N-san!>

Tashigi´s station was inside the Justice District, so it didn´t take long for you to reach it. The journey was peaceful, and the view was something to take note of. Beautiful leafy trees were strategically planted on the sidewalks, offering shadows for those who preferred to walk, no scratched paint in any house, store, or building. They all looked recently finished. The asphalt was shiny and without bumps or holes, making every car trip smooth.

You entered the Police Department and couldn´t help but feel a bit lost.

¨The new Commissioner made quite a few changes in the place.¨ you mumbled to yourself. 

Back in the day when Sengoku was the Chief of the Police Headquarters, the halls were lighter and brighter, the furniture was softer, and it smelled like spring - if that is possible. After he retired, a man named Sakazuki took his place, and to be honest, he seemed pretty decent, but he deals with justice differently, and the place shows. 

First, it was damn cold; the AC was making his money worth it; the smell was the second thing that hit you. The strong odor of bleach, the freezing temperature, and the morbid LEDs on the bleak grey ceiling made you feel like you were in a morgue. Everything else was made out of either leather or metal. 

This Sakazuki guy was definitely on the list of the people you didn´t want to meet. 

¨Hi, can you help me? I´m looking for-¨

¨Y/N-san!¨ Tashigi yelled, almost losing balance and falling on her face. 

¨Hey, careful there!¨ you hugged her. ¨You´re good to go?¨

¨Yeah, I just...¨ she turned her head around a couple of times, looking for something. She smiled and waved at someone ¨Smoker-san! Here!¨

The man was getting out of a room, sunglasses on and a cigar on his mouth. He was tall and seemed muscular under the leather jacket, but what caught your attention was his hair, the same white hair you remembered from last night. Only this time it was completely put back, no loose locks. 

The change in his expression made you think he had recognized you as well, and the thought of Tashigi´s boss being your front-door neighbor made you chuckle. 

¨That´s what I call a coincidence.¨ he said and took off the shades. You struggled not to gasp when his light-brown eyes met yours.

¨Right? I was so tired last night that I thought you were a dream.¨ you giggled, and he broke a smile. 

¨You know each other?¨ Tashigi asked.

¨We´re neighbors! It took a while for us to meet, though.¨ 

¨Tough week.¨ he touched the nape of his neck. 

¨Yeah, it was. We even saw you yesterday, Y/N-san!¨ the young officer said, confusing you ¨The Sora park, we were there too! But since you looked so busy, I didn´t want to interrupt.¨

So much happened, but you couldn´t recall anything. 

You just focused on starting the triage process. Determining the severity of the patient´s condition, assign a priority level, taking care of those who could be assisted in the local, and having the severely injured ones being sent to the hospital where you knew Marco would take good care of them. 

You were immensely wrong when you guessed that the triage process would be easier, thinking that the majority of the victims were fatalities.

 Apparently, the park was celebrating its 5th anniversary, so people from not only the different districts but other cities were all gathered in the park. 

¨Sorry, I didn´t... see you guys.¨ you said a little apologetic and lost. 

¨No apologies needed.¨ Smoker said ¨It was pretty intense. Although we were not supposed to spread knowledge of our presence in the scene.¨ he gave her a disguised rebuke, and you watched your friend get redder than a bell pepper, apologizing. 

You stared at each other for two seconds before you burst into laughter.

¨You´re still as clumsy as I remember, Tashigi.¨ you wiped a few tears ¨But don´t worry, this information dies with me.¨ you turned to Smoker, and he nodded, trusting you as a military. 

¨S-Should we go, Y/N-san?¨ 

¨Yes, of course! Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Smoker.¨ 

¨Pleasure is all mine, Y/N.¨ you shook hands again, staring each other in the eyes. 

His eyes slowly traveled to your lips, and you noticed that you were biting it, blushing more than Tashigi. 

¨Well, see you, then!¨ you let go of his hand and rushed to the door. 

¨Y/N,¨ you turned with an audible hm? and raised brows ¨knock if you need anything.¨ you nodded and smiled. 

¨Will do.¨ 

~

¨I´ll have the Kenafa, please.¨ Tashigi told the waiter with so much of a look in the menu. 

The cute restaurant you drove by earlier was called Terracota, and it was specialized in foreign cuisine. Even with the names and ingredients, you couldn´t figure out something you´d like, so you decided to order the same thing as the officer. 

¨That´s what eight years of ration do to you.¨ you joked.  

¨What have you been eating these days?¨ 

¨Whatever they have on the menu at the hospital. Sandwiches, pasta, sandwiches, sandwiches, chocolate bars, sandwiches...¨ you laughed ¨Haven´t had time to think about cooking yet.¨

¨Take outs are simpler, right?¨ you nodded ¨So, what do you think about Smoker-san?¨ 

¨Looks decent, polite, hard worker-¨

¨Aw, come on, Y/N-san! That´s not what I asked!¨ she gave you a suggestive look ¨He´s not taken, you know.¨

You open and closed your mouth a couple of times, words refusing to come out.

¨What? Tashigi!¨

¨I´m just saying!¨ she held her hands up, defending herself in the middle of giggles ¨But seriously, Y/N-san, I think he liked you too.¨

¨Ok, first, I never said I liked him, and second, I just got here. Can´t really think about this stuff.¨ 

¨Well, you should consider, at least. He doesn´t go out a lot, so...¨ she prolonged the last word ¨...maybe it was fate that put you two as neighbors.¨ you scoffed.

¨You believe in this stuff?¨

¨I do. Sometimes we see some crazy things...¨ her expression frowned ¨...it helps if I believe in fate. And the reason behind things... you know?¨ you nodded when she looked at you, even though you didn´t.

For your salvation, the waiter came back with the amuse-bouche, breaking the uncomfortable moment.

 You didn´t want to tell her that you stopped believing that everything happens for a reason a long time ago.

¨But you said you have a brother here, right? Have you seen him already?¨

¨Unfortunately, no. He´s out of town now, so I´ll have to wait. God, I miss him so much!¨ a smile grew on your lips with the idea of seeing him again. 

¨Oh yeah, you told me he runs businesses. Do you know the names? Maybe I know or visited before, or even know him!¨

¨Of course! There´s the Casino Verde, the Hotel Verde and a restaurant called Suna. I´ve never be-¨ 

The girl in front of you turned purple as she choked on her food, a raucous cough called everyone´s attention while one hand covered her mouth and the other smacked her chest. 

¨Y-Your brother is C-Crocodile?¨ she asked with a hushed voice, still trying to fight her food from coming out. 

You were expecting her to know him, but the explosive noodle reaction caught you a little off guard. 

¨Yeah... are you ok?¨ you offered her a napkin which she gladly accepted.

¨I´m sorry about this, it´s just...¨ she paused a bit, brows furrowing while her fingers tore the napkin you gave her. Then she took a deep breath and recomposed herself ¨... he´s very famous, you know? He basically runs the Light District!¨

You knew he was rich and powerful, but to say that he ran the most extravagant district was a surprise. A good one, though. You couldn't help but feel proud of him. 

You remember all the sacrifices he made when you were two just kids lost in this world. All the humiliating jobs he´d work at to buy you food. The pain of having his childhood taken from him at such young age. 

He became a man to protect you. He never let anything or anyone hurt you, he never let you starve even if that meant he´d be going to sleep with nothing but a glass of tap water in his stomach.

You felt a burning sensation on your nose, and your eyes started to water, bringing a genuine smile to rise on your lips and tears roll down your cheeks. You didn´t mind it, though. You were too happy.

¨Yeah... he is my brother.¨ 

[animeyanderelover]

This was requested privately by @headmastermephistopheles. Remember that there will be changes in the original story. I also skipped a lot in here because I didn’t want to rewrite the whole episode. I obviously have to split this in more than one part.

Warnings: Yandere themes, threats, manipulation, blood, death

Summary: Working for the young Phantomhive had always been very interesting, especially if his butler seemed to have a huge interest on you. You yourself had never been normal as well. But who would have thought that one visit in a town would lead you to gain two obsessed admirers and leading you to find out that you were so much less human than originally thought?

Pairing: Yandere Angela/Ash &

reader

Angel, hope of my life

“Holiday, Holiday, we’re going on a holiday! Holiday, holiday, we’re going on a holiday!” Why couldn’t they just shut up? Did they seriously expect the young master to bring you all along just so you would get some rest too? No way that the young master was that kind. You bet he had been just afraid to leave you all alone there to find his manor burned down when he and Sebastian would come back. He did trust you, but he didn’t trust the other three. But you decided to not tell them this, for their happiness sake. You noticed a signpost that you passed by. “Welcome to Houndsworth.”, you read out what stood on it. If you were completely honest with yourself, it didn’t look like the place you were heading to was the paradise on earth, more the opposite. Your suspicions were confirmed when the carriages suddenly stopped and you heard Sebastian speaking:”It seems we arrived at the village everyone.” To say that the scene in front of you was godforsaken would be too nice. “I forgot to mention something. The resort that the queen is planning is yet to be constructed.”, your young master told you. “Yes master.”, all four of you answered and you couldn’t help, but feel bad for Mey-Rin, Finny and Bardroy. Damn that child. Almost as if Sebastian had heard your thoughts his head suddenly turned around and his blood-red eyes met yours. You narrowed your eyes at him whilst he just sent you one of his charming smiles that would have worked on all other persons, but not on you.

Something about Sebastian had always been fishy, he seemed not normal, not human. The way he did everything always so perfect wasn’t normal. But there were many things that weren’t normal in this household. Best example were all the servants, including you, in there. All three of you had a pretty shitty past and all of you had been hired by Sebastian because of your special abilities. You had lived on the streets back then, having run off from the orphanage you had spent your first years of life in. Your parents had set you for whatever reason right in front of the door when you had been really young and the people working in there had taken you in. You had lived in there until you had become eight years. That’s when things had gotten bad for you for a rather abnormal reason. You didn’t know until today how exactly it was possible, but somehow your own body healed visibly faster than others. It was a really benefitting power, but humans were naturally afraid of things they couldn’t understand and so the people in the orphanage had started to avoid you because every wound you had gotten seemed to heal within a day. The children had started to call you witch and no one had wanted to do anything with you. You had felt lonely and unappreciated what had led you to the decision to leave.

Living in the streets had forced you to grow up faster, needing to fight in order to survive. You had learned many things from many people, each one of them helping you realize a important messages in life or tricks that had proofed to be very useful. You had learned how to fight and you didn’t want to compliment yourself, but you were a good fighter. You didn’t possess the strength Finny had, but you were athletic, smart and knew a lot of moves. Sebastian had encountered you one day when you had currently fought against a few other men on the street who had wanted to steal the food that you had honestly earned. You had been too busy with fighting to really hear what he had offered you, taking three from the five guys without much troubles down. When you had been ready to take the remaining two, they had already been laying on the ground, Sebastian standing over them. That’s when he had offered you to start working for his young master. You had refused, but for some reason the man hadn’t leave you alone, instead following you until you had enough and had yelled at him that if he would beat you in a fight, you would join. If you would have known how he was beforehand you would have never made this offer, but you had been so stupid at that time. The fight had been short and humiliating, you had lost and had joined the servants.

The whole landscape plus the city were in your eyes just bleak and the people in there have you some bad vibes, however, it was no wonder. They were probably all highly alert and leery. Who wouldn’t when a giant wolf was killing the citizens. Your young master was honestly such a liar. You just knew that he didn’t bring you here on a holiday. He had a mission and for the manor’s safety he had brought you all along. You felt almost disgusted when hearing that the people in here killed dogs just for fun. That was nothing, but heartless. You were thrown out of your thoughts when you suddenly heard your fellow servants making words of admiration. It looked like you had arrived at your destination. It was an old manor, nothing compared to your master’s manor, but you guessed that not everybody had a Sebastian as a butler. That’s when your eyes suddenly landed on the lady who you assumed was a maid for the one who owned this manor. You would have lied if you would have said that she wasn’t gorgeous. She was very pretty with her greyish hair and amethyst eyes. You didn’t know if she felt your intense staring because suddenly her eyes shifted in your direction. Her eyes widened and for a moment it almost looked like she had just discovered the most beautiful creature on earth. But she quickly pulled herself together and led you inside the house. You couldn’t stop staring at her. It wasn’t because she was pretty, but because of the...strange feeling you had about her. It was somewhat similar to the feeling you always had about Sebastian, yet at the same time it felt like the complete opposite. But it felt dangerous nevertheless.

You stared shocked at the walls in the room the maid had just led you in. Covered with heads from stuffed animals. It wasn’t the first time you had seen this, but the sheer amount of it was what shocked you. It almost looked like the owner of them killed just for fun. A sudden scream and a whipping noise made you turn your head around. You gasped when you saw the scene right in front of you playing. A man, most likely the owner of this house, was hitting the maid with a whip whilst yelling angrily at her. For the first two or three seconds you were speechless, disgusted by this act of cruelty. But the very next moment, before your master could even order Sebastian to do something, you suddenly sprinted towards the woman who was lying helplessly on the ground, preparing herself for the next hit. But the next hit never reached her because you suddenly jumped protectingly in front of her and catched the whip with your hand, ignoring the searing pain you felt. “And who the hell are you stupid little thing?! Get out of my way or else I won’t hesitate to hit you until you whine like a child!!” He raised his whip one more time threatening. But you didn’t move, instead you glared angrily at him. “You’re truly despicable, sir. Hitting a poor woman just like this. Don’t you have any sense of honor left in that pathetic body of yours? I warn you, the next time you attempt to hit I’ll attack. And I swear, I’ll give you each hit you gave her twice as bad back.” For a short moment the man looked shocked, clearly not having expected to hear such with dislike laced words. But in the next second his face twisted into an angry expression. “How dare you, you little brat!!”

You prepared to give him a strong kick in his private parts, but before he could even attempt to hit you he was suddenly stopped by Sebastian. “Couldn’t you have interrupted all of this earlier?!”, you snarled at him. “I waited for my master’s orders. By the way, it isn’t my fault that you played the hero.” You groaned before quickly bending down to the woman. “Miss, are you alright?!”, you asked her worriedly. She stared with wide eyes at you before letting her eyes wander to your hand where a red mark had already started to form. “Why would you do that and let yourself get hurt? I’m not worthy for you to get hurt!”, she said panicked and grabbed your hand, observing the wound carefully. She mumbled something that was, despite the fact that you were so close to her, couldn’t understand. You were a bit surprised by the way she acted, the panicked and terrified look in her face whilst looking at your hand was a bit off for the fact that it was a rather harmless wound and that the both of you had just met each other. You pulled your hand away from her almost desperate grip and she tended up as soon as she didn’t hold your hand in hers anymore. “Listen Miss. I did it because it was the right thing to do. And compared to your injuries this is nothing. By the way, my wounds heal faster than others so it shouldn’t take too long for my hand to recover.” You offered her your unharmed hand which she gladly took. She didn’t let go of your hand, holding it for a bit too long before finally letting go. She glanced shortly at the hand that had touched yours and you saw something sparkling in her eyes. An emotion which you couldn’t quite grasp. What was that? Admiration? Adoration? Love? Why the hell would she have such emotions in her eyes? You couldn’t find a solution to your questions because suddenly Sebastian tapped your shoulder. You blinked confused at him. “Didn’t you forget something (y/n)?” At first you didn’t understand before you realized it. “Damn it! I was supposed to help the others carrying all the luggage in!”

She didn’t stop staring at you. The whole time all of you were sitting on the table she didn’t stop glancing every few seconds at you. It made you feel uneasy, the emotions from before still swirling around in her eyes. It kind of unsettled you. Such strong emotions shouldn’t be reflected in a person’s eyes. Especially not after only meeting someone for barely an hour. Mey-Rin, Bardroy and especially Finny seemed to not notice that. They were busily acknowledging Angela. “...After all we servants go to stick together, right? (y/n), am I right?” You turned around to him. “I’m afraid I didn’t listen. What did you say?” Bardroy gave you a betrayed expression. “Come on, why are you always ignoring me? I said if Angela needs any help we’ll help her. Right?” All attention shifted to you since you were after Sebastian and Tanake the highest ranking servant in the house simply because Sebastian trusted you the most when it came to responsibility. One short glance in Angela’s direction made you feel nervous. She looked at you like your answer would decide something really important in her life. You could understand to some degree that it must be hard to serve for such a jerk, but that still didn’t justify these intense feelings in her eyes. But who were you to judge someone? Angela had been probably beaten up many times before so to finally have someone step in must had been a new experience for her. “Of course. Just call us when you need a few extra hands.”, you answered. “How kind of you to offer your help. Thank you all.” This sentence should have been meant to all four of you, but why was she just staring at you and made it sound like she only meant it for you. You glanced around. Did the others not realize how she kept staring at you? A sudden ringing interrupted the silence and Angela instantly stood up. “I have to go right away. My master is calling. Please excuse me.” Before she disappeared through the door she turned one more time around, glancing at you. You didn’t know why, but your gut told you that there was something dangerous about her. And so far your gut had always been right.

“How are your hands doing? Are they better?” Angela nodded. “My hands are just fine, but what about your hand. I’m far more concerned about that.” You waved your completely healed hand in front of her face. “Told you that you don’t have to worry.” She slowly stretched her hands out to grab yours and observed it closely, just like she had done it when there had been the fresh wound. “Perfect.”, she muttered with an almost worshipping gaze out. You laughed nervously and pulled your hand out once again. “Why are you keep doing this? You make me nervous with that.” She gave you a shocked expression. “I’m sorry! It wasn’t my intention. I was just so glad that your hand healed so quickly! I felt so incredibly guilty when you got hurt just for my sake. I’m not worthy of this sacrifice from your side!” Her outburst was unexpected and confused you. Why was she so concerned about this. “I’ve endured worse than this. Believe me, this was nothing compared to what I’ve endured in the past.” You had hoped to ease her a bit with this, but it had the complete opposite effect. “You got hurt even worse before?! Promise me you won’t bring yourself in troubles again!”

“Master! I beg you! Show mercy this one time! These people don’t deserve the punishment!” So much to promising her to not bring yourself in troubles again. Quite the serious troubles. Being tied up and needing to watch how the young master was chained to a wall just so the dogs could rip him to shreds was indeed very humiliating and frustrating. Not to mention that all of you were left. That was insane! You were being punished for saving a dog! You were being punished for showing humanity! What was wrong with those people?! Where was their honor?! Where was their heart?! You just wanted to punch these bastard Barrymore in his face. He was truly a pathetic human being and if you would have still been able to speak you were sure you would have cursed the whole village by now. So it was probably a good thing you weren’t able to or else you would have angered them even more. “Leave this village immediately and advice her majesty never to send her minions near it again.” You gave a muffled scream of protest out and gave your master a sharp look. “Don’t you dare to humiliate us all like this!”, you screamed in your head at him. But you shouldn’t have worried about your young master. When you heard his words you felt almost proud. Sharp and cruel with his words as ever. But when you glanced at Angela you noticed that she looked absolutely terrified at you. It wasn’t the worst situation you had dealed with. That was at least until you would be chained to this wall as well. Then you would have a problem. “...Get him!” With these words the dogs stormed straight towards Ciel. “Sebastian, you idiot! Where are you when we need you?!”

“You fool! Couldn’t you have appeared 5 minutes earlier?! Then we wouldn’t have been tied down! I mean, I understand that you needed to collect the evidence, but still!!” “Shouldn’t you thank me for saving your life?” The nerves of this man. “Thanking you?! Keep dreaming! You always need to make such a show!” You had actually a few more words to say, but couldn’t because Angela suddenly turned you around and started looking for any injuries. “I thought you promised me that you wouldn’t get yourself in troubles anymore!! Are you hurt anywhere?!” You slowly pushed her away from you. “I’m not hurt and apologize for this. But I did the right thing. I believe that it’s always worth the trouble to stand up for what you think is right.” She looked at you as if you had just spoken nonsense before you continued:”Shouldn’t you be happy as well? After all the guy who mistreated you was just sent to jail. That means you can finally be free.” “Y-you care for me?” You nodded. “It’s as Bardroy said. We servants gotta stick together.” Your attention was turned towards Finny who was holding the dead dog and crying. A shadow clouded your eyes. The dog had reminded loyal to his master the last minute. Sometimes you were surprised how much more humanity you saw in animals than in humans. “Humans can be so disgusting.”, you mumbled out. Angela glanced surprised at you. “I can’t believe that they did this. Of course they now know who was all behind this, but still. To let a living creature die like this. It’s disgraceful. Especially Henry Barrymore. Someone like him deserves to rot in hell.” Angela turned to face you fully. “Do you think that all humans are like this? Dirty?” You looked at her irritated. What was that for a question. “I...suppose that not all humans are bad. But all humans can be corrupted if they aren’t strong enough. But no one is born evil. That’s what I believe. Why asking this?” Angela didn’t answer, instead staring somewhere in the space with a thoughtful look in her eyes.

“What’s wrong Mey-Rin? Why are you screa-“, you paused your sentence when you saw the scene right in front of you. The cellar in which Barrymore had been kept was destroyed. The wall behind the wall was completely destroyed, telling you that something with incredible strength must had done this and the large pool of blood told you what faith the man most likely had suffered. “What...happened in here?”

[need-a-fugue]

Centennial Man

Summary: Bucky may not want to celebrate his birthday, but you’ll be damned if you let his 100th go by as just another day.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Cavity-inducing fluff.

You’re gone when he wakes, that side of the bed cold and empty.

He twists around, fingers idly gripping the crumpled sheets where your body should be, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth as he blinks the room into focus. It’s dim but not dark, a sliver of early morning light spilling in through the crack in the curtains, still drawn – unlike how he leaves them when he gets out of bed in the morning, tearing them open to bathe you in the offending light, forcing you to writhe and moan and finally get up.

But today… you’re already up.

He slowly turns back around, rubbing his stubbled face into the million thread count sheets you insisted on buying a few months back – new sheets for a new home! – before landing his eyes on the bedside clock. His brows pull tightly together, confusion tugging his frown even further. Nine o’clock? He lets out a groan and rolls onto his back, a knowing, “Damnit,” flowing languidly out of him as he rubs at his eyes.

You turned off the alarm. Of course you did. You turned off the alarm to keep him in bed and then you disappeared to go do… something. Even though he told you – repeatedly – to treat this just like any other damn day.

He hears the front door open, the crinkle of a paper sack, a sharp, “Ooop,” in your voice to likely mark a near trip or spill. And he pulls himself up and out of bed.

“What are you doing?” he asks, stepping out into the hallway, tugging a T-shirt over his head, not even bothering to do up the jeans he pulls on. He peers into the kitchen, parking it at the breakfast bar to watch as you merrily pluck item after item out of a large paper bag.

“I went to our corner bakery,” you state, not even turning to look at him, so intent on unpacking the goodies. “I got croissants,” you spin then, just long enough to offer a quick raised brow, “obviously,” and turn back to the counter. “A blueberry muffin. A lemon poppyseed. A bran muffin,” you intone slyly, whipping back around to face him. “Because old men like you need their fiber.”

“Ha, ha,” he spouts, grumpy frown still painted on his face.

You reach behind and grab a single plate from the counter, pluck a paper coffee cup with the other hand, and step over to the breakfast bar. “And,” you announce with a flair, setting the plate down in front of him, “pain au chocolate. Because it’s my baby’s birthday. And he deserves it.” You wiggle your brows playfully, getting met with little more than a dramatic eyeroll from Bucky.

He points to your other hand. “That coffee for me?”

“Of course,” you state, setting it down in front of him before rocking back on your heels, crossing your arms over your chest, and offering an almost chiding glare. “Black. Plain. Boring. Just like you.”

He plucks the plastic top, tosses it to the side. “I told you… I don’t do birthdays.”

“You did my birthday,” you say with a shrug.

“Yeah,” he says after downing a long, hot sip. “You would’ve thrown me out if I hadn’t.”

Your face twists with admonishment. “No,” you intone, narrowing your eyes severely. “You just like being the gift giver, the one who celebrates other people. The hero.”

“Making you dinner for your birthday makes me a hero?” he asks, lips finally quirking into a small, crooked smile, a hint of mirth twinkling in his eyes as you roll yours in annoyance. He plucks a pain au chocolate from the plate, takes a giant bite, devouring almost half the pastry at once. “This is it, right?” comes out of him amid buttery crumbs as he speaks around the food in his mouth. “No party… no nothing, right?”

Another eyeroll, this one so deep it almost hurts. “Really, I should just count my gift to you as talking Tony out of that damn party.”

He swallows thickly, takes another quick sip of coffee to wash down the pastry. “I don’t get it. He hates me. Why would he want to throw me a party anyway? Unless it’s because he hates me… and he knows I’d hate it.”

“First of all,” you mutter spinning back around to grab your own coffee off the counter, “He doesn’t hate you.” You shrug. “He just doesn’t like you. And yeah, you being annoyed by even just the thought of a birthday gathering probably gives him a monstrous hard on.”

“Could do without that image,” he mutters before shoving the rest of the croissant into his mouth.

“But really, that man will take any opportunity to throw a party. Don’t make this all about you.”

“My birthday,” he states simply. “Not about me. Got it.”

You sweep out of the kitchen, rounding the breakfast bar to pull up next to him. “Nat’s covering for you this morning – ”

“You could’ve just said that instead of turning off my alarm,” he interjects, a bit of an edge to his voice.

You give him a get real stare. “You still would’ve gotten up by six… still would’ve gone down to the gym. It’s your birthday, you can sleep in one damn day a year.”

“Mm-hmm,” he mutters, reaching out for the remaining chocolate pastry.

“Anyway,” you intone, swiftly plucking the treat from him and tearing it in half, returning only a portion to his waiting, open hand. “As I was saying… Natasha’s covering for you, so no work today. Steve wants to hang out, so I said I’d send you his way for a bit. But I need you back here by six.”

“Why?” he asks, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Because it would be rude to keep the mariachi band waiting,” you snipe. “Why do you think? We’re having dinner.”

“I don’t want to go out.”

“Good, ‘cause we’re staying in.”

His eyes widen, brow arching into an utterly incredulous expression. “Don’t take this the wrong way, doll, but I don’t want you to cook either. I might not want to celebrate my birthday, but that doesn’t mean I want to get food poisoning for it.”

“I’m not going to…” You let out a low, annoyed growl. “You’re the worst. Just go… do whatever you want to do for a few hours.”

He reaches out and captures you with his metal arm as you try to scurry off beyond him, back to the bedroom. “What if what I want to do is right here?”

You swat him away, aiming a pointed finger as you take a single, wide step back. “No,” you declare, trying – and failing – to keep your lips from curing into a devilish smile. “Not now. Not yet.”

He turns back to the breakfast bar with a grunt. A scoff. A bitter huff. “I gave you two orgasms before the sun even came up on your birthday.”

“Psht,” you scoff. “I was barely awake. Probably dream faking.”

He shakes his head slowly. “Nope. I rocked your world.”

Your eyes roll back so hard that this time it definitely does physically hurt. “You are such an old man.”

                                                               000

“You should have a little more faith in her,” Steve says with a chuckle as he swipes at his hair in the locker room mirror, pinching a chunk between his fingers and twisting.

Bucky snorts in reply, rolling his eyes at his friend’s – frankly alarming – love affair with 21st century hair products as he does little more than viciously rub a towel through his own just washed hair. A two-hour run. Some light sparring followed by heavy lifting. A long ass shower. And he’s finally ready to face whatever you have cooked up for him. Mostly.

“You’re acting like she’s gonna throw you a surprise party,” the still-preening super soldier says, barking out a quick laugh when Bucky turns on him with a raised, wary brow. “She’s not going to do something we all know you’d hate.”

“I hate celebrating my birthday,” he mutters vaguely as he tosses the towel into a hamper by the door and roughly pulls on a sweatshirt.

“You didn’t used to,” Steve says, finally turning away from the mirror and locking onto Bucky’s eyes with a rather gloomy cast. “Hell, you used to drag me around to every soda shop and dance hall in the city. Kept me out all night just because it was your birthday and you damn well had the right.”

Bucky shifts his eyes away, unable to see such memories – vague, unattainable recollections of his past life, an utterly other life – through the simple, reminiscent lens of his friend. “Yeah, well. That was a long time ago.”

“Alright,” he sighs out, an almost disappointed edge to his voice. “Well, for what it’s worth… happy birthday, Buck.” He whips on a stiff button down – ever the dapper fella – and begins to do it up, keeping the sour-looking man in his periphery. “And just… be nice.” He heads for the door, dropping a hand to Bucky’s shoulder as he goes, giving him a swift jostle as he states, “She’s trying to do something nice for you. Don’t be a jerk about it.”

He does little more than mutter in response – something bleak and unintelligible that comes out like a lazy grunt – and turns to follow him out of the locker room, out of the sprawling gym. Each reluctant step towards the elevator, then down the hall to your newly shared apartment, seems to stutter and slow, his entire body prickling in a heated hesitation.

Why is it so different now? he muses dimly. Why does celebrating feel so… wrong?

Because it shouldn’t be happening, that’s why. Because he never should’ve lived to be 100 to begin with. And the only reason he did is because he was transformed into some sort of ageless monster, designed to kill. To end life. There’s no reason why anyone should be celebrating the beginning of his.

But of course, he’d never say that to you, would never tell you that he was undeserving of kindness or love or even just a birthday dinner. He’d tried that once already, and it ended with him donning a split lip. Tough love, apparently, was a phrase to live by where you came from.

“Ah,” you squeak out, an animated leap accompanying the all too excited utterance as you flash a wide, bright smile the moment he steps through the door. “You’re back! Perfect timing!”

His eyes blow wide as he looks just past you, cocking his head to peer at the fully made table to your left. “What is all this?” he asks with a laugh, sauntering over to the pristine settings and pulling in a long breath through his nose, taking in the strong aroma of… “Steak?”

You nod. “But don’t worry. I didn’t make it. I promise.”

Another laugh, and the accompanying smile lingers easily on his face, strain lifting from his shoulders as he watches you slip over to the counter to pour a couple fingers of what looks to be damn fine whiskey into a crystal tumbler.

“Sit,” you demand, dangling the glass dangerously between thumb and forefinger, waving it slowly back and forth in front of his face.

He does as requested, dropping into the chair, and reaching up for the glass only to have you flop heavily into his lap instead. A surprised oof blows out of him, followed by an amused, “Hey,” as you settle in and take a single, slow sip. Your eyes close, the softest hum of pleasure slipping from your lips as he slides the whiskey from your hand. “Good?” he asks before taking a long pull himself. “Mm, yeah,” he mutters, swiping his tongue languidly over his lips. “That is good.”

You nod and lean over to hack away at the giant, bloody steak on the table. “This,” you say with a flourish as you spear a bite with the fork and bring it up to Bucky’s mouth, “is from Donovan’s. One of Tony’s favorite places.” You wait until he accepts the bite, his lips still curling into a sly grin, before you raise a brow and further explain, “He claims it’ll melt in your mouth.”

Bucky chews slowly, relishing the perfectly rare-cooked meat before swallowing it down and offering a pleased nod. You dive back in and steal a bite for yourself, agreeing with Tony’s assessment wholeheartedly as you leisurely chew before moving your fork over to pick at the massive baked potato. Bucky lets out an airy chuckle in your ear, leaning forward to drop a swift, whiskey-laden kiss at your temple. “Is this my birthday dinner or yours?” he asks as he slowly lifts the hem of your shirt and sneaks his cool metal digits beneath.

You jolt in his lap as he splays his icy palm over your ribs and lets out another light laugh. “Fine. Fine,” you mutter, feigning annoyance as you rise and hand over the fork. “I’ll just sit over here… all alone.” You lower yourself into the chair across from him, bottom lip pulling into an overdone pout, all in the hopes of getting even just one more precious, sunny laugh out of him.

It works too. One laugh, one smile, each bleeding easily into the next as you sit across from your 100-year-old counterpart. Your – sometimes better, sometimes worse – other half.

The two of you slip easily into the moment, enjoying a calm and leisurely – and delicious – dinner together. The few words that fall from either of your lips – all too often busy with the succulent steak, dripping-with-butter potato, oddly amazing brussels sprouts – are truly unneeded, talking feeling wholly underrated when you can simply bask in the presence of one another. And play a dangerously distracting game of footsie beneath the table.

Once the meal is over, both plates practically licked clean, you jump up to clear the dishes, eager to get at them before he tries to take over. You drop everything into the sink with a clank and a thud – wince when you hear him hiss out a disgruntled, “Easy, baby.” – and pour him another drink before turning to slowly back out of the kitchen, holding the whiskey up like a carrot as you beckon him into the other room.

“Where are we going?” he asks, wily expression on his face, his hands dropping down to your hips as he backs you into the hall.

He begins to turn, not-so-subtly angling towards the bedroom. But you shuffle your feet to a halt. “Uh, uh,” you intone with a shake of the head. “You still have to open your present.”

His fingers trail up your sides, even as his head drops, lips lowering to your exposed collarbone where he sucks a small, sweet, red blossom into your skin. “Yeah,” he mutters into you, flesh hand ducking beneath your shirt, pressing a hot palm to the small of your back. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“No,” you laugh out, stepping out of his loose grip and giving him a small shove. You tug his hand out from beneath your shirt, wrap his fingers around the whiskey glass, and saunter off to the other side of the room to dig out a small, wrapped package. “I just ate a potato that weighed like four pounds,” you say as you slump heavily onto the couch, neatly wrapped gift in hand. “I need some time before… that.”

He rolls his eyes, takes a long sip of sweet, brown liquor, and sets the tumbler down on the side table before sitting beside you. “Okay,” he mutters vaguely, that unsure look returning to his face. “How much time do you need to digest?”

You laugh, the bright and tinkling sound swiftly bringing back his delicate, crooked smile. “Shame we can’t all have a super soldier’s metabolism, huh?”

He cocks his head playfully. “Am I not being patient enough? I thought I was being very patient.”

You let out a rather indignant snort and toss the gift haphazardly into his lap. “Yeah, sure. Patient. Also grateful. And kind…”

He leans forward then, curling into the bend of your neck and peppering your skin with swift kisses. “I am grateful, baby,” he murmurs into you. “Always grateful for you.”

Your hand slinks up into his hair, fingertips dancing lightly along his scalp. “Well… as for the patience part… we still have cake to get to too.”

“Thought you were full,” he whispers softly, his lips, tongue, now tracing the line of your jaw.

“But it’s your favorite,” you state, craning your head to give him better access.

“You’re my favorite,” he mutters into you. “Best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Well,” you intone thickly, pulling away just a bit, knowing full well that if you don’t manage to duck out of this now, you certainly won’t be able to later. “That is good to hear. But I have it on good authority that devil’s food cake is your favorite.”

“Really?” he asks, voice sounding utterly disinterested as he tugs you closer.

You nod. “Steve gave me your mom’s recipe.”

His lips still on your neck, body stiffening beside you. He pulls away with a start, confused look on his face. “My mom’s recipe?” You nod again, raising a questioning brow. “You made… my mom’s cake? For me?”

Your hand slowly slides down to cup his cheek, eyes shining brightly as you say simply, “Sure did, baby.”

He looks almost… lost. For a long moment, he does nothing but stare at you, seemingly assessing everything about you. His hand rises to your face, fingertips brushing lightly along your cheek, thumb dropping low to gently press into the center of your bottom lip. “You’re amazing. You know that?”

“I do,” you say, tone straight and serious, teasing quality playing only in your sparkling eyes. You give him a wide smile and a little shove, gaze dropping down to the package in his lap. “Now, open your present.”

That crooked smile returns, not quite a smirk, certainly not a leer. You’ve come to know it as one of his most sincere expressions, even if it isn’t quite as bright and broad as that ever-elusive beam that only occasionally breaks across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. It sets off butterflies in your stomach just the same. Because both of those smiles are seemingly only ever directed at you.

He looks down at the gift with a sigh and gingerly tears into the wrapping, pulling it apart to reveal deep brown leather, thick and supple. He slides his fingers delicately over it, over the flat, soft surface, before pulling it out of the wrapping entirely and flipping it over in his hands.

“It’s a new journal,” you mutter, tone suddenly peppered with apprehension. He looks up, expression unreadable, and you give a short shrug. “You only ever write in those notebooks and… important things… like your memories? Those should have a nicer place to live.”

His eyes lighten to a luminous, icy blue as he continues to stare over at you, into you. “That’s really nice, baby,” he says softly. “I love it.” His gaze drops back down to the book in his hand, brow furrowing as he traces a finger over the sharp, ridged pattern running along the edges of the cover. “What’s this?”

“Oh,” you start, a hint of hesitation working into your tone. “Yeah. That.” You reach over and pick up the journal, flip it over to show him that the same etching stretches along the back as well. “It’s my heartbeat.”

His eyes fly up to meet yours, a quick chortle pulling from his chest. “What?” he barks out, glancing back at the design and noting now that, yes, it does appear to resemble an EKG readout.

“Yeah, I had someone in medical record it for me. And then I sent it off to some… leather smith or whatever they’re called to emboss it… or… whatever.” You shake your head dismissively. “Anyway, it’s 101 beats of my heart. One for every year you’ve been alive. Plus one to grow on.”

“You…” He sputters for a moment, still staring down at the journal, staring down at the very rhythm of your heart sitting in his hands. And then his face splits wide, that big, bright beam you’d been waiting for – hoping for – taking over as he raises his head and locks onto your eyes. “You crazy girl,” he laughs out, shaking his head fondly.

“Crazy?” you bleat out, only barely able to maintain the faux vexation. “I just gave you my heart… almost literally!”

“Still figuratively,” he states with a raised brow. “But I damn sure love it even more now.”

“Well, good,” you breathe out, reaching over and tugging back the cover. “Then hopefully you’ll forgive the fact that I took the liberty of filling in the first entry for you. Go on,” you prod as soon as you see his eyes drop to take in your sloppily scrawled words. “Read it.”

He settles back into the couch with a grin, holding the journal open with one hand as he clears his throat dramatically and begins. “Dear diary,” he reads aloud, choking suddenly on a laugh as he shakes his head lazily back and forth. “You think that’s how I start a journal entry?”

You shrug. “I don’t make it a habit of reading other people’s diaries, so I really wouldn’t know.”

“It’s a journal,” he corrects, both brows cocked high as he leans back to peer down at you.

You merely roll your eyes in response, tapping the open book impatiently in a swift and silent order for him to continue.

He returns to the page, corner of his mouth quirking into a crooked grin as you press yourself into his side, laying your head atop his shoulder. “Today is my 100th birthday,” he goes on coolly. “My wonderful, brilliant, patient, funny, charismatic, beautiful, delightful, best damn girl,” he breathes out with a snicker, “treated me to breakfast in bed.”

“You were supposed to still be in bed,” you gripe from his side.

He goes on, gentle amusement and utter adoration blooming in his gut, as he reads aloud, “She’s really the best.”

You snake even closer, wrapping your arms around his bicep and singing out, “It’s true.”

He gives a slight nod and returns to the entry. “She ordered steak from the best place in town. Diary, you do not want to know how much that cow cost.” His head cocks towards you, single brow raising in an almost admonishing way. Again, you shrug and tick your eyes back to the page, encouraging him to go on. He does so, uttering, “Then she gave me her heart,” with a gentle fondness.

“I really am a peach,” you mutter, turning your face just a bit and pressing a lingering kiss onto his shoulder.

“You are, baby,” he agrees, dropping his lips to your hair for a moment before returning to finish the entry. He clears his throat again and continues with, “It was simply the best birthday I’ve had in all my hundred years. And the best part of all was the homemade cake, which my girl made with equal parts chocolate and love.” Another snicker escapes him, though it chokes and sputters in his throat as he reads the next sentence, uttering slowly, “and then wore like a nighty so I could lick icing off her thighs all night long.”

[kuzuhinasecretexchange]

Work Title: How To Learn To Enjoy Coffee In Four Days

Author: @jagopolis

For: @starryy-night

Pairings/Characters: Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu/Hajime Hinata, Peko Pekoyama

Rating/Warnings: General audiences, warning for a lot of foul language

Prompts used: Coffee Shop AU, urban fantasy

Author’s notes: I am so sorry for the foul language. And the other thing, I hope this small piece is to your liking! I adore modern/urban fantasy so I immediately jumped on board, and while coffee shop AUs are not something I often write, I think I did decently! Enjoy this small piece and glory to the lovely kuzuhina ship! Also, 10°C is 50°F.

Nobody liked Mondays.

And that was the fact as true as the sun setting every morning, the stars showing up at night, or that every full moon werewolves would go a bit feral.

Even the weather seemed to agree that Mondays are shit. The temperature was no higher than maybe 10°C if not for the wind, and the sky had that ugly, grey color of clouds that won’t bring rain, but will obscure the sunshine just because.

Amidst all that, just after they got a moment off their duties, Peko approached Fuyuhiko with an offer. Apparently, a new coffee shop opened nearby, and she was looking for a friend willing to visit it with her.

And, you know what? Yeah, sure, why not, any break from the bleak reality will make this boring day much more bearable.

Turns out the shop wasn’t even far from their workplace, they didn’t have to take a short-distance teleport, just a quick train ride. At least, it would be quick, if not for the elf who suddenly decided to argue with the driver. Seriously, even goddamn dragons aren’t that proud.

But finally, they arrived at their stop and headed towards their destination. It was in one of the more rural districts. With narrower streets, mainly small houses and equally small gardens.

“So, this is the fuss is all about?” Fuyuhiko mused out loud, judging the rather modest front of the cafe.

Peko nodded quietly, though what interested her more were the fluffy cushions leaning against one of the windows. Knowing her, they won’t leave without a new one.

This was actually a good opportunity to take a peek into the cafe. And it wasn’t anything stellar, truth be told. Just a few tables with chairs or more comfortable sofas, a small counter, and a single, tired employee checking something on his phone. No customers at this hour? Sheesh, if this is another shitty place… Fuyuhiko sighed and pushed the door, walking inside. What hit him immediately was the sheer intensity of magic woven into this place. It felt as if they transitioned from a shitty autumn Monday to a bright summer Sunday by just taking a single step. The interior transformed from a cheap look to a full-blown forest. With trees and birds singing and all that shit. And, yeah, Fuyuhiko was aware this is all just very good illusion magic at work but y’know, this shit is still impressive. Especially since he tried and failed miserably at learning it.

And then Fuyuhiko noticed that there is a fucking window with soft cushions next to him and all immersion went poof.

Peko, however, was absolutely taken in, and he knew that from the way her lips twitched in the slightest of smiles.

“…come on, let’s not keep the barista waiting,” he grumbled, before moving to the counter, now overgrown with moss and flowers. But behind it was the same, very bored barista, checking his phone. The audacity! Fuyuhiko very loudly clears his throat, and the guy finally has enough common fucking sense to look at his customers. “Welcome to our small shop, what do you desire?” barista’s voice was no less enthusiastic than the way he greeted his only customers, and Fuyuhiko was so, so fucking tempted to curse this idiot out right there and then. Let’s go. Let’s fucking go.

“What we fucking desire, is–” There was a hand on her shoulder, and Peko’s voice quickly cut him off. “We don’t desire anything, Fae. However, we would like to order an espresso and a caramel latte. With almond milk.”

…of fucking course it’s a fae. As if anything today can go right, he almost told his desires to a fae. Good job Fuyuhiko! Good job you idiot!

The fae barista nodded and got to making their order, while Peko, with her hand still on Fuyuhiko’s shoulder, guided him to a table far away from the counter. The shorter man huffed angrily and sat down.

“…This was close. You need to watch your tongue around faes.”

To that, Fuyuhiko just grabbed a handful of moss growing from his chair and ripped it off. “It’s not my fucking fault that bitch tried to scam me out of my wants! How the hell was I supposed to know he’s a fae to begin with? These stupid illusions make him look almost amagi–”

Peko cut him off with a nudge before he could continue his angry rant as the barista approached them. He placed their orders on the table. It didn’t appear as if he heard anything, then again, who knew with these sly bastards. “Anything else?” Your stupid head on the platt–

“No, thank you very much.” God bless Peko for her natural unshakable composure.

The barista nodded and then walked away, all while Fuyuhiko dug his sharp claws into the living wood of the illusionary table. Meanwhile, Peko picked up her espresso and took a long, slow sip. She was someone who not only knew a lot about coffee but also enjoyed this devilish brew of the evilest of demons. No, seriously, how the fuck could anyone ever enjoy its bitterness? Fuyuhiko let out a frustrated growl, before finally taking his cup and sipping some of probably the single sweetest coffee in existence. It still tasted like coffee, and that meant absolute garbage though. “For being clearly a front for fae activity, their coffee is rather delicious.” Peko mused, setting down her cup. It was already empty, much to Fuyuhiko’s horror. His latte was barely started and he already had enough!

“If you say so. I just think it’s a very shitty business practice to try to extort desires from your clients,” he muttered, grip tightening around his glass. “I’m just gonna go pay and then we’re out. And never, ever coming back.”

Peko looked at him with that slightly amused look of hers, before turning her eyes to the weird-ass not-illusion-hidden window with the cushions. Oh no… “Please don’t tell me you want a souvenir.” She nodded. He cursed out his life again. Then got up and walked to that counter and damn barista, who somehow already got back onto his phone. Fuyuhiko had to try real hard to not start growling at the fae. But he was a distinguished dragon, and way too old to growl at people he disliked. “I’m paying, card, how much is it?”

The barista looked up at him with these annoyingly green eyes of his, then on the register.

“830 yen.” And at that moment Fuyuhiko started growling. What a fucking steal! He could get coffee that’s equally as horrible for what, a 100 yen? Fucking faes and their fucking shady business practices!

No, Fuyuhiko, remember your goal here.

“…you’ve got quite the prices.”

The barista just shrugged. The bastard-

“I didn’t set the prices, I just work here.”

The eyeroll Fuyuhiko made was one of the more subtle kinds. Absolutely.

“Alright, whatever. Can the cushions you have by the window be bought?”

And that, for fuck’s sake FINALLY, got a reaction out of the bored guy. His brows furrowed in genuine confusion, as he looked over Fuyuhiko’s shoulder and at the window.

“Well, no, they’re a part of the interior…”

Aha. Sure sure, anything a fae has in their sight can be acquired through a bit of rule-bending.

“What about exchange then? You can exchange anything for anything with equal value.”

Gotcha bitch.

The barista sighed, before rubbing his temples and hesitantly nodded.

“That… Is true, but you’d have to bring me an equally as fluffy cushion for trade. You’d already have a cushion though, so why-”

“Then it’s a deal!” Fuyuhiko took his card out and quickly made the right payment. For the coffee. But the more important and tricky one will have to wait. “I will bring you that cushion tomorrow.”

Barista didn’t say anything, visibly too stunned by the weird happenings. Haha, 1-0, shitty customer service guy. With everything taken care of, and his power and pride flaunted, Fuyuhiko turned around and gestured at Peko to follow him. She sighed, with that smallest of amusements on her face. She was lucky to be his best friend, he wouldn’t bother for anyone else.

“I’m never doing you any favors again.”

To which Peko just laughed, as they walked out of the enchanted cafe and into the much less gray Monday of the city.

  —

  So, Tuesdays.

On most occasions, Fuyuhiko didn’t mind Tuesdays as much as he did Mondays, for a simple reason. His work started later and he could wake up at a reasonably late hour and not be late. Sure, not much happened, but there wasn’t any reason for outright hatred either.

That is, usually.

Because today, he had to carry a fluffy fucking cushion to a stupid cafe and uphold his end of the deal with a fae. Because, in his own stupidity, he shouted ‘it’s a deal’ in front of a being known for making shady deals with other magical and amagical creatures for a living. But this was fine. Everything was fine. This was a harmless deal with clearly stated conditions. Pillow for a pillow, exchanged today. That’s all, the fae really had no room to scam him out of his soul or some shit.

And so, after work, he made it very clear to Peko how dissatisfied he was with what she put him up for, before leaving with his sacrificial pillow, one he extorted from Souda with a few threats and curses. What? He doesn’t have stuff like that just laying around, he prefers smooth materials.

He took one look at the traffic and decided to not bother with a train, instead preparing to pay quite a bit for a teleport. Really, fuck whoever thought that instead of making this perfect means of transportation free, one has to pay stupid amounts just to make a short jump.

The machine situated on the end of his street happily swallowed a few whole bills while he typed in the address. Glass doors of the booth closed behind him, the low hum of magic filled the closed space, before pulling him under for just a moment and spitting out at a different machine. THANK YOU FOR USING OUR SERVICES flashed across the screen, as the glass door opened to the narrow street from yesterday. “Thank you for ripping me off, assholes,” Fuyuhiko muttered to himself. At least he wasn’t one of the losers who were nauseous after teleportation. He covered his mouth with his hand. Just in case.

The street was as empty as yesterday. Actually, everything looked exactly like yesterday, even the weather was the same. Pushing the annoying deja vu aside, Fuyuhiko quickly made his way to the coffee shop, pillow in his hand. A plastic bag, but who cares.

Inside the exact same illusion has greeted him. His eyes wandered to the counter, behind which the same shithead from yesterday was standing, but this time just mindlessly fidgeting with some coins instead of being on his phone. What an improvement.

So Fuyuhiko walked over, slammed his cushion on the counter, and stared the barista dead in the eyes. “My end of the deal. Your turn.” And the barista looked at him with such deep confusion Fuyuhiko was sure the last time he saw emotion as strong as this on someone’s face was when he breathed fire during a party to get everyone’s attention. So he just stood there, waiting for the idiot to remember what this is all about. Up until now, he didn’t really have the time to examine his target of curses. He had the appearance of a guy roughly his physical age, with a standard built and brown, spiky hair. So spiky in fact that some strands seemed to completely defy gravity and just stand upright. Fuyuhiko briefly wondered what kind of hairspray the guy was using. He was dressed in a brown apron and striped shirt, just standard work clothes. No one would wear that atrocity without being forced to.

“…wait, you’re the guy who wanted to trade pillows-?” the barista finally spoke up, examining the bag. He reached into it, and took the cushion into his hands, squeezing it.

But Fuyuhiko really had no patience for this place, nor this guy.

“Yes. Now, which ones can I trade this for?”

The barista stared at the pillows stacked up against the window as if he saw them for the first time in his life.

“Any, I think. Just, uh, bring one to me and I’ll decide?”

Without waiting for any further encouragement, Fuyuhiko bolted towards the window, grabbed the single fluffiest bastard situated there, almost tripped on a tree’s root on his way back, and placed the soon-to-be-his pillow right next to the one he brought.

The barista blinked in great confusion again, before nodding.

“Yeah, sure, this looks about equal in volume…”

Which, to be fair, surprised Fuyuhiko. Was this fae just. Agreeing to the terms of a different being? What the fuck. What the Fuck.

“Would you like to order anything, though?” the barista continued. Fuyuhiko shook his head.

“No, that’s all I wanted out of this place. Bye.”

He grabbed his bag, the newly obtained gift, and turned around. “Wait!” the barista’s voice caught up to him. “…we also serve tea?”

Did that bastard notice that he didn’t drink his coffee yesterday? More importantly, remembered it? That’s very fucking weird of him.

But also rather rude of Fuyuhiko to just walk in, demand a pillow, and walk out? Fuck this shit… a single cup of tea couldn’t harm anyone. Even if served by a fae. If they used some illegal charms they’d be shut down before they could even open.

“…single cup of green tea then.”

As Fuyuhiko turned around, he caught the barista smiling to himself. Yeah, good job dipshit, you just convinced a guy to become your customer again. This time though, instead of sitting by a table, the dragon decided to sit by the counter. Maybe to observe the sly fae. Maybe.

Said fae in question easily maneuvered between the shelves and picked out what seemed to be Fuyuhiko’s ordered tea, then scooped some into a tea infuser, placed that into the cup, and poured hot water onto it. And it’s not like Fuyuhiko has never seen someone make tea, for fuck’s sake he makes it himself, but damn this man had some moves.

“Enjoy your drink.”

Fuyuhiko looked at the cup with still brewing tea with the slightest hint of suspicion. But he just went over all the arguments, so he just picked it up and took a sip. “…that’s one sweet green tea.”

The barista laughed a bit, before scratching his neck. “Yes, you see, I picked a sweeter mix, I thought you’d like it after your last order.”

“Do you remember every order you get?” Fuyuhiko could not contain a snark. The barista answered with a slow nod.

“Pretty much-? That’s what I’m paid for.”

The dragon just stared at him as he continued to sip his tea. The fae shifted his balance from left to right, then searched for something to look at, finally landing on the pillow.

“…that girl is really lucky to have you. I mean, not everyone would make a deal with a fae to get a gift!”

And to that, Fuyuhiko spat out his tea for the first time. He coughed loudly, to the barista’s bewilderment.

“Peko is like my sister!”

The barista shook his head with stunning speed, his voice seemed to get a tone higher.

“No, I wasn’t trying to insist anything like that-! She’s lucky to have you, as a brother-?”

Fuyuhiko continued to cough his lungs out. The barista leaned forward and, after hesitating a moment, awkwardly patted his back. And while Fuyuhiko would prefer for a stranger to not touch him, the gesture was somewhat appreciated (and, damn, his hands were warm). A few more coughs and the cursed tea finally left his lungs in its entirety, it would appear. He could finally breathe freely. Barista went back to standing at a distance of the counter (would it be strange to be disappointed by that?).

“Uh… Sorry about that. So, your ‘like sister’s’ name is Peko, and yours is?” That was probably the most awkward segway into a different topic Fuyuhiko has heard since he met Kazuichi. Anyway, it’d be pretty rude to not introduce himself.

“Name’s Kuzuryuu Fuyuhiko.”

The barista’s eyes went a little wide, no doubt recognizing the family name. But he made no comments about it, instead just nodded.

“I’m Hinata Hajime. It’s nice to see new faces around here.”

That’s… An underwhelmingly typical name. The dragon hoped to at least find a family connected to this fae, but it seems he truly was just. A guy working in a cafe.

The momentary quiet apparently startled Hinata, as he reached to scratch his arm.

“So, you-”

“Before we change the topic again,” Fuyuhiko cut in. “Let me finish this tea. It’s getting cold.”

Hinata gave an apologetic look and a nod, before shuffling off to poke some buttons on the cash register. From the side, Fuyuhiko could appreciate just how. Nicely he fit into the scenery, with his green eyes, and hair in a shade similar to the trees, and–

Hinata turned his head and flashed him a quick smile, before going back to work, and Fuyuhiko was almost sure his heart stopped. Gh, get yourself together, you useless fucking homosexual!

“Actually, there’s something I want to ask you,” quickly start a conversation maybe then he won’t judge him for staring. “You behaved like a completely different person yesterday. I’m not tryin’ to pry, but what’s up with that?”

Hinata stopped for a moment, before resuming the apparently absolutely pointless fidgeting with the register.

“Yeah, I. Apologize for that, not very professional of me, hah?” from just the tone of his voice Fuyuhiko could guess that he stepped into something he shouldn’t have. “It was just. A long day, I barely got any sleep, and–” “Y’know what, nevermind, forget I asked.” Good job Fuyuhiko. You absolute moron. You idiot. How do you ruin your chances in a single sentence.

“Oh, no, it’s fine! I get it, it must look pretty weird from the outside, like two different people, or something!”

“Like, identical evil twin shit?”

 Hinata’s smile got wider for a moment, covering up a laugh. “I wish! Someone to cover my shifts, that’d be fantastic.”

And, alright, listen. Fuyuhiko was prying way too much, but this a matter of planning his week ahead and knowing when to come to this cafe and when to ditch it all and not expose himself to any bullshit from faes.

“So you work here alone? Sounds tough.”

“Well, not really. I’m just the only one on shift right now. My coworker will come to give me a break eventually.” said Hinata, following it with a dismissive wave of his hand.

So of course Fuyuhiko followed it with: 

“Then, when are you free?”, praying inside that his hidden intention is not picked up just yet.

“Uh, I finish my shift Friday evening?”

The intention wasn’t picked up but if Fuyuhiko had any more tea, he’d probably spit it out again. Luckily, the cold, half-finished cup laid abandoned next to him. “…it’s Tuesday.”

“Yes, well, fae don’t really need to sleep as often as most sentient species, so I can take 5-days-long shifts without much issue.” and he had the audacity to say that as if it was just a common occurrence to work for 100… something hours nonstop!

But that. Did give him quite a bit of time to get to know Hinata better…

“Sounds fuckin’ awful, I can barely stand 8 hours at work.”

Hinata responded with a chuckle, just shrugging.

“You can get used to it, I guess. Are you going to finish your tea, or-?”

Aw, shit, the tea. Yeah, it was undrinkable now anyway, and it’s not like Fuyuhiko liked it that much in the first place.

“I’ll pay, how much is it?”

“A cup will be… 300 yen.”

OH FOR FUCKS SAKE– the prices here will kill him! Drain all of his goddamn earnings!

He just took out enough bills and handed them over. Staying longer than this would be rude, even if nobody else was in the cafe. Or, that was an illusion, he just fell for an illusion, and it’s all fae tricks designed to make him lose money.

He grabbed his pillow and stood up.

“Till next time, then.”

Hinata’s brow slowly raised.

“Next time?”

But before he had to answer that question and no doubt embarrass himself further, Fuyuhiko walked right out of that cursed place.

Just one glance, through the window. And, sure enough, Hinata stood there, stood there, alive, and probably real since apparently glass resisted the illusion. Luckily, his eyes were still stuck looking at the door, so he did not see Fuyuhiko questioning his existence.

Turning away and walking down the street, the dragon took out his phone and quickly opened the chat with Peko.

  FUYU: How do you learn to enjoy coffee?

KOKO: Why are you asking? FUYU: None of your business! KOKO: It’s that barista. FUYU: …… KOKO: I knew you’d enjoy that place. :-)

[angelcorebabyowo]

Can I have a ride home, I'm at a party and I dont know anyone...

Paring: RemRom

Words: 2771

Chapters:1[or 2]/ ???

Warnings: cursing, somewhat unsympathetic light sides from how you look at it,

oman knew this was a bad idea, he knew going to this dance was a bad idea, he knew that his friends would most likely stand him up, trust me he did. What he didn't expect was to be sitting on the gym bleacher gently crying his eyes out. He didn't expect his brand new dress to be ripped or the heel of his heels to just tear off because he fell. Despite his shaking so much he mages to get his phone and call up his brother, one of the only people he cares about anymore and puts the phone up to his ears begging for someone to answer. Tears had started flowing more freely now, no control to him, and had started full-on sobbing.

"You've reached the trash can! Leave a message after the beep!" was all that came from the other line and Roman almost threw his phone. He tried one more time and it finally worked and he nearly jumped when it worked. The sound of Remus' voice put a smile on his face despite the circumstance.

"Hey whats u- wait, are you crying?" The voice on the other line was hoarse and sounded as if they just chugged a gallon of those drink packets. Just like Remus. He had stayed home seeing as he had gotten expelled earlier in the year for beating up one of the kids who picked on roman and sent them to the hospital, he was lucky that no charges had been pressed, although it was bad enough the school board hadn't wanted him to come back unless he pulled that stunt again.

"They stood me up!" Roman cries and tries to form a ball but the bleachers hadn't given much room to so much as move another inch, "Told me I was too annoying to hang out with them anymore!" he knew it sounded childish but that was the exact wording, and he wasnt about to back down.

"Who do they think they are!" both of them said at the same time, although, Remus sounded angrier than Roman. Roman made a sound that sounded a bit like a whimper at the tone, he never did like it.

"Look, I'm in the middle of something right now, and by that I mean I just woke up. I'll pick you up in a few minutes. Do you want me to stay on the line, or will you be alright?" Remus asks his tone of voice nearly completely changing after he heard Roman's reaction to it before. He might have been an asshole but not enough to fully harm his brother during their weakest point, he would never swoop that low.

"Can you um..Can you stay on the phone?" Roman wasn't crying anymore but he was still sniffling up a storm and it was apparent with every word. He had a small problem with being alone when he was in the state. He knew he couldn't do anything but it still made him beyond uncomfortable to be alone.

"Alright then, go and wash your face off to get all the snot off of it" Remus exclaims, Roman could hear him getting up and his bones popping in the prosses, "You're a messy crier"

Roman does just that well at least walks to the bathroom, wincing and hissing as he walked to the bathroom, he refused to take his shoes off so every step was painful and he nearly started crying again.

"What's the damage? I hear you hissing, sound like Dee" He heard Remus ask him, it was muffled due to the phone not being directly on his ear and more on his shoulder. Dee, Or Jauns Lawrenson, was their mutual friend who had graduated last year and was currently going to Law school or something like that. Neither of them paid enough attention to their friend's career to tell anyone about it.

"My shoe broke and my dress has a gnarly rip in it, luckily the dress looks pre-ripped, can't say the same for the shoes." Roman practically growls annoyed that his favourite outfit was remotely ruined."Stop laughing! It's not funny! It's not fucking funny!" He practically shouts as he gets into the unisex bathroom and locks the door. Luckily there was only one stall so it wasn't like anyone would barge in on him or yell at him for being too loud.

He slowly sets the phone down on the sink and moves to turn the water on, his movements were slow as if he didn't know if he wanted to turn the handle. In all honesty, he didn't want to, he didn't want to hear the noise of it right now, but looking in the mirror at his face he knew he needed to do it. His eyeliner had smeared and his mascara had dripped down to his cheeks and with how much he's rubbed them it was smugged in more places than one on his face.

"It's alright, look I'll tell you a trick that helps me. Paper towels. Get them as wet as you can and then turn the water off when it's as full as it can be, that way the water isn't on for that long and the struggle of everything isn't as bad as it would be!" Remus says cheerfully. Roman could hear the car door close and the engine start. "Want me to pick up Dee? I doubt he'd mind if so!"

He'd never be more relived for Remus to get behind the wheel, and the thought of Dee being there sounded beyond amazing, but it was always just a little too loud with all three of them in the car."No! Just you is enough, hurry up, would you? All the lights are hurting my head, I'll meet you out front"

"I'm also bringing you some pyjamas so that you don't freeze to death tonight. Love you, I'll see you soon" Remus says quickly before hanging up the phone. He had said it so many times in the past, the simple phrase 'I love you' although, it sounded a bit more affectionate today, Roman didn't question it.

After 10 minutes of scrubbing his face raw to get the makeup off he finally got a text from Remus alerting that he was outside. With that Roman practically runs out and to the car and quickly gets the passengers seat and groans as the somewhat to warm hits him, he gently sings into the seat not even putting his seatbelt on. He looks at the roof with a somber expression, it wasn't a good look on him at all.

"That bad huh?"Remus asks handing Roman MacDonald's bag and a normal Walmart bag "I picked you up a cheeseburger and a small fry, would've picked up a happy meal but I didn't know if you would've wanted that. Plus I know damn well you didn't eat anything today, don't play dumb with me. You also got some fuzzy bottoms and a paw-patrol shirt because I couldn't find the normal clothes, Hope that's alright." Remus started driving as Roman dug into his food. The other twin was right, after all, he hadn't had anything all day because of his nerves.

"Yeah it's all right, my guy," Roman says with a big bite of food in his mouth, a smile was now playing at the corners of his lips now instead of a frown. He then changed his shirt, not even carrying if people could see him do it. He wasn't a particularly interesting site to see after all, the only intresting part would be a scar over his heart from a surgery a few years back.

.

"Don't talk with your mouth full. Not polite" Remus says with a breathy laugh as he continued to drive, he was driving to the beach because he knew that was Roman's favorite place, most definitely at night. He just wanted to see the other happy again .

Roman rests his head on the window as the streetlights, and the city in general, fade into a bleak nothingness. He was used to it, he and Remus drove this same route nearly every night. Not under the same circumstances, of course, just on the nights Roman couldn't sleep or if Remus dragged him out of another midnight adventure. Tonight, after the prom fiasco, had the same calming air to it as all of the other times did. Roman sat up slightly, still making sure to slouch just enough to not touch the top of the seat so that he was still comfortable.

The music from the radio was soft enough to make the car seem a little bit alive. The twins' silence was never an awkward one it was, more often than not, a comfortable one. This didn't mean they enjoyed it though. It was Remus who broke the silence, it typically was, and smiled over at him. It was awkward seeing as the "elder" had sharpened his canines to a vampire-ish point on summer and now continues to do it anytime it somewhat goes dull. Roman did the same thing, although, he was too much of a wuss to do it for more than that summer so his teeth had dulled a lot in that area.

"I'm not going to ask you again Ro, what flavour milkshake do you want?" Remus questions as he pulls into a Rallys parking lot, not wanting to go to the drive-through without knowing the full order "If you same say some shit like vanilla I'm going to leave you in this parking lot."

"Jokes of you, I hate Vanilla milkshakes. Banana and can you ask for extra whipped cream" Roman says laughing softly and sits up completely before crossing his legs. He felt better now, and with the promise of something sweet his entire mood changed even more. "And I'll give you ten bucks when you get home if you get me a thing of funnel fries, like a small thing, not even a medium"

"I'll get you a medium shake and a small thing of those fries," Remus says with fake disgust, in all honesty, hed most likely steal a few of Roman's "How can you even eat those things? Think of all of the parasites that are in that dough"

"This is coming from the guy who drank the pond water from my science project!" Roman says with a smug smile. a few years ago Remus, as a dare, drank an entire jar of muddy pond water leaving him in the hospital for a month with several bacterial infections and nearly died. Roman was lucky Remus found it funny or hed most likely would have gotten slapped.

"Ugh- don't remind me, I'm still trying to pay off all of those hospital bills!" Remus groans sadly before pulling into the drive-through line before quickly saying his order and playing and getting his change back, he then got the food just as fast because it had been only them and it seemed pretty much deserted at the time. He quickly drove off mumbling something about how the workers seemed mean and he should go back and give them a piece of his mind.

"Ah shut up and give me my food," Roman says and practically snatches the bag from Remus' lap with a small smile and keeps it on his side. He wasn't being mean it was more of a playful/teasing type if anything. He was rarely mean to his brother but when he was it was for typically good reason, or he just wanted to be a nuisance. "None for you!"

"Little shit!" Remus says laughing fondly before reaching over and stealing one of the fries and plopping it in his mouth before taking a sip of his milkshake "Before everything, want to go home or do you just want to ride around? We don't have anything big planned so it's not like we have to even wake up early. I was going to bring us to the beach but I'm pretty sure we'd get chased off by those snobby rich guys again." "Want to risk it to see if they do?"

"Nah, knowing them they'd press charges or some shit trespassing and I don't feel like getting arrested tonight"

"You're no fun anymore!" Roman wines

"Finnnnneee We'll go later when there's no chance of us getting caught! That better Little prince?"

"Hell yes! now come on start driving faster!" Roman says with a grin looking over at Remus before turning up the radio and practically bouncing in his seat. He had heard that nickname so many times it might as well had been his name, it was a reference to one of his favourite story as a kid and even to this day "Our song!" Roman quickly rolled down the window and started tosing scream the lyrics to "tongue-tied by Grouplove" it was rarely played on the radio but when it did Roman made sure to sing it.

It had a good summer and over the top entry they could both get behind

"Let me guess, you want me to sing along with you?" Remus says laughing softly before rolling down his window as well as the other two windows. If the two of them were going to be loud they were going to be so loud that the entire neighbourhood they had been driving through was going to have to file a noise complaint on a random beat-up car that drove through the neighbourhood. and started screaming the lyrics. "Take me to your best friends house! Loved you then and I loved you AND I LOVED YOU NOW!" They both sung that part ith all of their heart, Roman was playing the air guitar and Remus jamming out while thumping on the wheel as he drove. The car was filled with the two Teens laughing their asses off as the music practically blasted as they screamed and laughed just as hard. For a moment they forgot about everything that ever happened to them as they jammed out.

Everything was perfect in that time and space.

Eventually, everything calmed down and Roman yawned and leaned back looking at the ceiling closing his eyes slightly and took a sip from his now melted Milkshake. "This was fun Re-"

"Really? I think it was the best experience we will ever have in this plane of existence."Remus says pulling into the driveway and parked the car, they didn't go to the beach seeing how late it had gotten and both had started to get overly drowsy "And yeah, it was fun for me as well. Want me to carry you or are your legs good enough?"

"Carry me" Roman whispers tiredly and making grippy hands in Remus' direction "Please?"

Remus took the keys out and got out of the car before walking over to Roman's side and helps them out and picks them up bridal style."You good?"

"Always am Rem, now hurry up before I spit in your face for moving to slow. "

"Oh you know I love it when you spit on me"

"Ugh! Shut up and get a move on, would you!"

Remus laughs as he walks into the house, it was unlocked because Remus kept losing the front door key, and then walks to Roman's room and flops them on the bed. "You going to sleep or want me to keep the light on? I'll most likely not come back for a few minutes because I have to go fix up the car," he asks walking over to the light switch. They shared a room because Neither Remus nor Roman had the strength to clean out, or sleep, in their parents' old room after they died despite it being years ago.

"Off, yeah off," Roman says softly nuzzling into the blanket cocoon he already managed to get himself into. His mind was practically mush at this point so he didn't feel like talking

"Goodnight sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite," Remus says turning the lights off fully.

Roman snorts "Goodnight Rem! Don't let them bite you either!"

Remus fondly rolls his eyes and playfully blows a kiss and closes the door and sighing softly as he hears the tiny click. He slowly walks back to the car to get all of the stuff and runs back inside and puts the stuff into the tiny kitchen before going to the room flopping down on his bed and looks over at Roman who seemed to be peacefully sleeping. He smiled and wrapped himself in his own blankets before finally falling asleep.

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - London bits

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 14 | Part 15 London bits | Part 16 >

Disclaimer: some strong language

Author’s note: It was so much fun to do some actual research on Jersey’s history - even though it is only mentioned very briefly in this chapter. 

Word count: 1.265

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

One can find and do many things on our Jersey island, its rich soil housing some 107.000 inhabitants. But as it appears, the world has more to offer than multi-horned sheep, lovely beaches and close knitted communities. Today I’m once more writing from the metropolitan city of London, my journey taking me to meet some ex-inhabitants of our beloved Jersey.  

In this “Old Faces goes London”, I’ll be visiting a baker who decided to bring his infamous Jersey-rolls to the great City of London, a linguist who strives to keep Jèrriais (our territories unique Norman dialect) alive and I’ll be having a cup of tea with an exporter of Jersey’s very own apple cider. Yum!

And, as time is ticking I will now bid you all adieu. Or, to keep it in the Jèrriais realms;

À bétôt!

Ali

‘Morning.’ Henry pressed a kiss on my cheek while he brushed past me, his hands busy with making toast while I prepped some lunch boxes. It was 6 AM on a Tuesday and, though I was far from awake, I did admit that I felt quite happy being here, in Henry’s Mews kitchen. 

In the far corner I could hear Kal hogging down some food after an even more ungodly early doggy walk - from which I thankfully had been spared - and before long the kitchen was filled with lovely scents and we were all enjoying our breakfast.

‘Sleep well?’ I said, keeping my voice down as the walls were rather thin. Henry nodded, cup of coffee hovering beneath his nose, cheeks dimpling with a tender smile. ‘Sure did. Though looks like you are STILL sleeping.’ He laughed. ‘Mmm... I’m very much enjoying this dream, thank you very much. So please, allow me.’

‘Then so I will. So what are you up to today?’ He took a hesitant sip of the far too hot drink, scrunching his nose as he nearly burned his tongue, then decided to put it down, his hands instead moving to cut into the toast, his egg all gooey perfection as it oozed out onto the plate. I could see Kal push his head on Henry’s lap, hoping that his puppy eyes were enough of a persuader to earn himself some bacon. But apparently it was just another part of their morning routine, Henry’s hand near automatically running through the Akita’s fur before returning to his breakfast, no bacon bits shared in the process.

Sweet bears. 

‘Going to have an interview with that baker in a little over an hour, then visiting that publisher followed by some work calls. You?’

‘No baker interviews unfortunately,’ He smiled. ‘Just meetings. Meetings, meetings, meetings.’ Henry shrugged, obviously not looking forward to it. ‘Oh..What do you want to do for dinner by the way?’ He inquired.

‘Eh…eat food?’ I grinned, earning an exasperated look from him. ‘Hahah..sorry..but eh..let’s just cook something at home. Shall I cook or..?’

‘Cooking as home is good, sure. And, Ali, honestly..I’m not THAT traditional. Maybe let’s just say that the first person who gets home, cooks? That seems to be more fair.’ He said simply, hogging down onto another huge bite. 

‘Very well then, my fair feminist knight.’ I winked, also cutting into my toast, my nose sniffing happily as the savoury scents drifted into my nostrils. Gosh, how nice it was to be with a man that could cook! 

—

Still somewhat catching my breath from hurrying from meeting to meeting, I sat before one man called Charles Dunham, his golden nameplate shining proudly on his paper-filled mahogany desk. From the moment I had gotten into his office, it became clear that the old, fat cheeked man was most eager to get me on board; a good cup of coffee and some cookies were moved onto the last remaining bit of his space on his overcrowded desk and before I could even take my first sip of the welcome drink, the offer was already on the table.

‘Simply said; we adore your stories. And from a business point of view we see great potential. You have a solid fan base, and we recently released a similar storybook for adults that sold like hot buns on the Sunday market,’ He grinned happily, throwing three cubes of sugar in his coffee and mixing it with a freakishly small spoon. ‘So we are more than glad to develop this project with you.’

I blinked over the rim of the cup of coffee, hot steam raising up from the porcelain. HOLY DAMN! I let out a soft giggle and smiled. ‘My…alright then. I had expected to have to give you my sales pitch and perhaps a kidney or two. I mean, I even made a whole presentation, but this is far better. Thank you so much for your trust and enthusiasm Mr. Dunham, it truly means the world!’ 

Mr. Dunham chuckled. ‘And the world better be ready. How about we start editing a first version in the next few months, fine-tune a few things? Oh, and I did have one small question; are these based on actual people?’

‘Some are inspired by a mix of people I know, though all characters are definitely fictional in nature.’

‘Well, perhaps you COULD add a slight reference to Superman, since he’s from the Islands as well. Our readers would surely love that.’

I felt my stomach somersault again. Oh Mr. Dunham..if only you knew.

‘Haha..well. We might have to look into copyrights there, but it sure is true that we, I, adore our homeland hero.’ I winked.

—

Oh the homeland hero. I did adore him, indeed. In fact I craved him really.

The moment I had gotten back to Jersey I felt like I had left a piece of myself back with Henry. Suddenly the air was bleak and my parents house was not my home anymore, the large but comfortable house feeling like but a shell of what it had been just days earlier. And it got even weirder when I was laying in bed. 

Here I was, alone, my hand outstretched to the spot where he would lay if we would sleep together. I even tried to sniff the pillow he had slept on, to see if any of his scent perhaps lingered there.

It didn’t.

It had been a strangely eventful day today. First the very early flight, a sleepy Henry - quite unique to find in the mornings - driving me to the airport. And then the near desperate hugs and kisses we shared, followed by a restless flight. And then I had to quickly drop off my stuff before heading to another doctors appointment. This time for one of a more invasive nature; a number of physical tests had to be performed so I could enlist for a sperm donor. My plan B. Just in case everything failed with Henry. 

But, in all honesty, it felt more and more like a doom scenario I was increasingly less comfortable with. Did I want to become a single parent, if all of this failed? Was that really my dream? Or was a child just a result of something greater I truly wanted, something I had pushed away and hidden from my still beating heart. Did I actually want something quite different?

Did I want..eh..love, actually?

As I lay there looking at the ceiling, small glow-in-the-dark stars speckling the otherwise dark surface, I came to the bitter tasting realisation that I had not really taken into account that there was suddenly this extra person who had come into the equation. This person I had wild make-out sessions with on my parents couch, as well finding in him the person who offers a listening ear and who would consolidate me and be there during a doctors appointment. 

He cared and was obviously not really wanting to leave. And I, to be even more honest with myself, well, I didn’t want him to leave either. I needed to keep him close and listen to him if I wanted this to last. 

Rolling on my side I picked up my phone. 11.30 PM. He’d probably be sleeping now. I bit my lip and decided to text him, even if he’d only read it in the morning.

“I just tried to sniff the pillow but your scent is gone. I miss you😢”

Quite immediately a message returned. A selfie, taken with a flash in the starkness of a dark bedroom. Henry’s face sulkily grabbing onto a pillow. “That makes two. I miss you three!”

I giggled, silly bear, then imitated his picture, taking one myself, his pillow squeezed tightly in my arm, head resting on top. “Sweet dreams bear. I’ll keep your pillow safe.”

And then a little voice chat message came in, his silky deep voice filling my heart with joy; ‘Sweet dreams Ali.’

Oh sweet were my dreams indeed. 

If only..if only he were here to share them with me. 

--

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[keelywolfe]

FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 4 (Mafia AU)

Summary:  The continuation of Rus’s terrible, awful, no good, really bad day

Tags: Spicyhoney, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings

Warnings: Some violence. A wee bit of unwanted touching and some innuendo.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

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Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

The long ride through the city streets gave Rus a chance to gather up his scattered wits and once he got them back into the right order, he still only knew one thing for sure. He was seriously pissed off.

It was pretty obvious that this was all Edge’s fault, didn’t have to be a rocket surgeon to figure that out. Before Edge, Rus had stood at a lifetime score of zero when it came to kidnapping and after Edge started coming in, Rus was two for two with the extra bonus of their shop getting wrecked, and repaired, along the way.

Who the hell was this guy?

Flat out asking probably wasn’t gonna get him any answers and Rus settled for staring moodily out the car windows, absently noting the street signs even if they were all but meaningless to him. Rus didn’t know the city very well, that’s why he had google maps on his phone…he groaned inwardly as he realized his phone was missing. Fuck, it’d been hard enough to scrounge up the extra cash for that one.

His bag was gone, too, and a discreet check found his wallet was also absent. Not that he thought these guys were the kind to be cleaning out his meager bank account, but it counted for aggravation if nothing else. He’d need to get a new ID, new cards, the limited cash he’d had on him was gone. It was like every time he thought he hit bottom, the universe found another way to yank the rug out from under him.

Rus slumped down, letting his skull drop against the cool window glass as he stared at the blurring scenery.

Wait…they were passing a little corner store that Rus recognized. These streets were ones he knew. They were heading into the Dust Bowl, towards home, and Rus would have felt a lot better about it if Edge hadn’t hinted pretty clearly that Blue and home weren’t the same place right now.

He went on to prove it by driving past the residential areas and Rus gave the route that would have set him on his own porch a longing look. What he wouldn’t give to be curled up on his own bed right now, heading into Sleepsville and if any dreams came his way, Rus was gonna stuff them back up the pipe they came from.

Edge drove on and the silence in the car was close to unbearable. Rus wondered what Edge would do if he turned on the radio. Probably not kill him, he’d only just saved his life, but the guy was a criminal per his own lack of denial. Maiming might still be on the table and Rus really needed both of his hands for work.

The place they finally pulled up to was worse than he could have imagined. Rus stared up in horror at the glowing neon lights, so bright they were visible in the daylight, surrounding the huge LCD screen advertising their ‘services’. Places like this were exactly why Blue wanted their store in the Human shopping district.

“are you serious? we’re going to a strip club?” Rus blurted.

He’d never gone into any of the clubs down here in the thirties block; they were nicknamed the dirty thirties for a reason. Even if he’d been curious, which he really, really wasn’t, Blue would have murdered him if he’d put so much as a toe bone across the threshold of one of these places.

He’d been trying not to look at Edge, better to focus out the window than on the façade of a handsome face overtop whatever criminal awfulness lay beneath it. Now Rus turned to see Edge was rolling down the window, speaking in a hushed voice to another Dog Monster in a nice suit. Yeah, just like the guys from his first venture into kidnapping and Rus wasn’t any kind of Sherlock Holmes, but even he could add 1 +1 = bullshit.

Edge only glanced at him with a flick of crimson eye lights, “This is my place of business, yes.”

The Dog stepped back, and the car eased down the narrow alleyway between the buildings. Rus barely choked back a cry of surprise as Edge abruptly veered the wheel into a hairpin turn right towards the building. The brick wall loomed and then vanished into a sort of tunnel, cutting off the afternoon sunshine. An underground parking area, Rus realized, and there was no old clunker of a van with a rose on the side painstakingly painted in his brother’s hand in sight. All the cars here resembled the one he was already in, sleek and shiny, every single one of them worth more than their shop with all its blooms and their house combined.

Edge pulled into an empty spot and shut off the engine. It only made the silence that much worse, bleak and complete. He started to turn towards Rus, hesitating when Rus flinched back helplessly, strangling on a yelp before it could be the first thing to fill the quiet.

“Easy,” Edge said, and there was a new inflection for that deep voice, one that Rus hadn’t heard before. Manners he’d gotten at the shop and this morning, anger. Today it was coaxing, almost a croon, trying to soothe him like Rus was a lost pet and something about that comparison stirred his already agitated temper. Edge reached over and Rus might’ve damn well bitten him, but he didn’t touch. His expression only darkened as his gloved fingertips hovered over the side of Rus’s face where it ached the most. He was probably bruised up, whoever nabbed him at the shop this morning had popped him a good one.

“Easy,” Edge said again, in that same cozening voice, “you’re safe here. Let’s go inside.”

"no." Rus crossed his arms over his chest and slumped back into the leather seat, scowling down in the direction of the glove box. The front of his apron was dotted with marrow, dried to a tacky maroon against the heavy dark green fabric. Rus scratched at one of the spots, watched as it flaked away into dust, but the stain remained. Probably even Blue’s terrifyingly efficient laundry skills wouldn’t be able to get it out.

There was a beat of silence, then, "What?"

"no!” Rus said again, infusing that single word with all the irritation and fear of the day, letting it pour out as he added. “i'm not getting out of this car until you explain to me what's going on."

He glanced at Edge out of the corner of his eye, half-expecting another round of that anger from this morning. Instead, he looked nonplussed, his brow bone drawn down into a frown. Suddenly, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a crooked smile. "So. You want to sit here in my car with me, alone, is that what you're saying?"

Startled, Rus’s head jerked up and Edge’s amused gaze was suddenly closer, the much-larger skeleton leaning over the gearshift right into his space and bracing his arm against the passenger side door. His bulk seemed to fill in any room that Rus wasn’t already taking up and Rus’s back was already pressed tight against the plush cushion of the seat. There was nowhere else to go as he sputtered out, "w-what?"

This close, the heady aroma Edge’s cologne was overwhelming, enormous, and worse, there was a hint of spice paired with it, a whiff of roused magic that paired with the sudden heat of his body so close to Rus’s. The only light was whatever overhead fluorescents could make it through the tinted windows and Edge’s scarlet eye lights tracing along Rus’s bruised face again. That voice Rus found so enticing before sent a strange tingle down his spine as Edge murmured, "My enemies already think you're mine. Perhaps you should be."

What. The. Fuck.

"i don't belong to anyone!" It sounded so weak, less a denial and more a sad kind of plea, which was stupid, because Rus wasn’t one of the flowers in their shop, he wasn’t something that could be owned, thank you very much!

"No?" Edge picked up his hand, prying it gently away from where it frantically gripped the side of his seat. Where his sleeve rode up, Rus could see the shadow of bruises left earlier by the ropes and he could only stared dumbly as Edge nuzzled at those mottled blotches, a light kiss on the inside of his wrist made Rus shudder, not in revulsion, no, he couldn’t name that feeling. Edge’s grip was so gentle, more cradling than holding and Rus could have pulled away if he wanted to, broken that hold so easily. So why wasn’t he?

"no…” Rus tried to protest, strengthless and lost, “you don't even know my name."

"I don't, you're correct in that," Edge agreed. He pressed another light kiss to Rus’s wrist, nudging his sleeve further up to investigate where the bone was unmarked and pure. "But I know you. You work all day in your little shop until noon when your brother comes in to relieve you for your lunch, which you go to eat at the corner park."

That woke him out of the daze that rich voice wove around him, innocuous as a spider’s web and twice as insidious. At least with a spider, you knew what they wanted from you. “you…you've been spying on me!"

"No,” Edge denied. His breath was hot against Rus’s bare wrist, his teeth scraping lightly against the slender, delicate bones as he spoke, “We have another place of business down the road from your shop and I can see the park from my office. I see you sitting alone on the bench, eating your sandwich and feeding crumbs to the birds and squirrels. I don’t know your name, but I saw your smile when I came into your shop. I know more of you than you might think."

He moved then, with a blurring speed, his face inches from Rus’s as he said, softly, "I am a very bad person, flower shop boy. If you saw my soul, you'd know that. And you…"

“please,” Rus whispered. He didn’t know what he was asking for.

His voice grew softer yet, almost a subsonic rumble. Hardly more than a breath as Rus stared up at Edge with sockets so wide, they ached. "You were a step into the sunshine out of the darkness. A fantasy that I never wanted made reality and yet, now you’re here and it is becoming very difficult to not embrace the dream. Now. Do you want to go inside, or would you rather stay here with me to discuss this further?”

The last was said with a sardonic lilt and it took a moment for Rus to realize he’d stopped talking, the former silence was overshadowed by the throb of his soul, so loud in his head Rus wondered wildly if Edge could hear it, too.

But the spell was well and truly broken and if this were only a ploy to get him out of the car, it worked. Rus opened the passenger door so quickly he nearly slammed it into a concrete support beam, almost falling onto the pavement in his effort to scramble away.

Edge exited with better grace, his smooth gait carrying him to where Rus still wobbled on his feet. “Inside, it is,” Edge drawled, his mouth tilted into a smirk, “Do you need help?”

“i can walk on my own!” Rus wasn’t so sure he could, but he wasn’t about to let this asshole carry him again. He let Edge get a few steps between them before he followed, staying out of arm’s reach. Pointless effort, the first place Edge led him was a service elevator, where Rus was forced to stand right next to him surrounded by stark wooden paneling and glaring overhead lights.

But when the door opened again, it was into far more lush surroundings. Ornate carpets ran down a hallway subtly lit with ornate sconces. On the left was a neutrally painted wall lined with artwork that was miles above the league of the cheap prints in their house from the thrift shop. On the right there was a row of angular glass, almost like skylights, looking down.

The glass was tinted and if television could be believed, Rus figured it was probably one-way. He lingered back as Edge walked on, peering down. They looked down into the club below them, the stage lights dimmed through the tint.

From this angle, Rus thought he could see the entire ground floor. The bar was furthest away, with its collection of tiny-looking bottles ready to be used by ant-sized bartenders. He could see the patrons sitting at their tables, the occasional glint of a glass as it was raised, and the stage itself with a scattering of poles.

There were only two dancers, probably it was too early to put on any kind of real show, and they were making the most of their minuscule audience. A searing blush heated Rus’s cheekbones as he watched a scantily clad Bun slide languidly down a slim pole to her high heels, strutting over to kneel in front of one of the Humans in the audience, cupping her bared breasts as if in offering.

“If you wanted to see the show, we could have gone in through the front door.”

Rus jerked, looking up wildly to find Edge waiting at the end of the hallway, his face unreadable.

“how can you run a place like this?” Rus burst out. He jabbed an accusing finger at the display below them. “how can you abuse your own people for money?”

“All of our staff is fairly compensated for their work,” Edge countered, “which a more than they could say if they worked for the Humans. Now come along.”

That sounded more like an order than anything else had and Rus grudgingly obeyed. It was a shameful relief; he didn’t really want to see some guy shoving bills into a mostly-nude woman’s g-string, anyway. He hunched down, his skull low between his shoulders and followed.

The second door led to another hallway, this one completely enclosed. More expensive carpets and artwork, more intricate wall sconces that made Rus feel like he was in weird, modern version of Dracula. Except this was only like, office space above a rinky-dink strip club so why did it feel like they were walking forever?

“why did you even bring me here?” Rus grumbled, trudging along as he watched his untied shoelaces bump along the carpet. “you told me you were taking me to my brother. i want to go home.”

“I did say that and I am,” Edge agreed. Stupid how even now that voice sent a trill up his spine, why was he such an idiot, anyway? “But I’m afraid you can’t go home, not yet. Nor can you go to your shop.”

Home wasn’t entirely unexpected, all things considered, and the shop shouldn’t have been, if he’d bothered to think about it. Rus halted, dismayed, “but our store—we were supposed to get the new coolers this morning!”

“It’s been taken care of.”

“more help? great. i think we’ve had more than enough help from you!”

"You really don't have a choice. This is my fault, so I’m going to keep you safe." Said matter-of-factly, with no room left for debate or argument.

That didn’t mean Rus wasn’t going to try. "i don't want you to keep me safe! i don’t want anything to do with you or any of this...” He gestured wildly at the walls, the carpets, club that couldn’t even be seen. “this horrible place!"

Edge halted so abruptly that Rus nearly ran into his back, half-tripping over his own laces. He looked up into Edge’s stoic face defiantly, silently daring him to contradict him.

“No one talks to me like that.” But Edge wasn’t angry. It was more like he was marveling over it, almost pleased, and Rus didn’t know what that meant, he didn’t know what any of this meant. All he knew was his head ached and frustrated tears were starting to gather at the corners of his sockets, held back only be sheer determination.

He fought to keep from squirming under that penetrating gaze and it, well, it softened, somehow, it was the only way to explain it. “Come on,” Edge said, again, and instead of leading, he silently shepherded Rus to walk next to him, a hand hovering without touching at the small of Rus’s back as a guide.

They finally stopped outside of one of the doors that was as nondescript as any of them rest of them. Edge knocked briefly, in a weird rat-tat-tat pattern, then opened the door.

After everything, Rus still wasn’t sure what to expect and this luxurious office definitely wasn’t on his mental list. A large, ornate wooden desk dominated the room though there wasn’t a scrap of paper in sight, surrounded by leather chairs and sofas. There was a side bar with various sized bottles and a tray of clean glasses, and the walls were lined with bookshelves, filled with leather-bound volumes that had Rus mentally salivating; he could only imagine what information was in them, much better than the meager offerings of the local library.

Better yet, Blue was sitting in an oversized leather chair, still in his work uniform and almost disappearing into the thick cushions. He struggled to his feet with a cry, running over with both arms outstretched to Rus. Who dropped to his knees, clinging to his big brother as he hadn’t since the day they came to the surface and with almost the same mix of emotions, fear and joy.

“Brother, I was so worried!” Tears brimmed in Blue’s sockets and overflowed down his rounded cheekbones. His starry eye lights dimmed as he reached up to lightly touch the bruises on the side of Rus’s face, too gently to cause even a hint of pain.

“i’m okay, blue, seriously,” Rus told him. But he didn’t let go, leaning into those comforting arms.

“ain’t that sweet, a family reunion.”

That made Rus jerk, turning to see a burly skeleton almost as broad was he was tall coming from around the desk. He wasn’t much taller than Blue and in his sharky grin was a glinting gold tooth. One that might shine even in the dim light in the backseat of a car.

“Brother, this is Red,” Blue gestured towards the squat skeleton, who was lighting a cigar, “Edge’s brother. He told me what happened.”

“did he?” Rus said, as neutrally as he could manage when he was staring face-first at the skeleton who’d offered him a chance to ‘make it a double’ that morning, whatever the hell that meant.

“yep,” Red said agreeably. His crimson eye lights glittered with dark amusement as he grinned around his cigar. “glad you’re okay, flower shop, musta been a hell of an ordeal, eh, bro?”

Edge was standing by the door, arms crossed over his broad chest. His face twisted as if he was tasting something sour and he said nothing.

Blue only nodded, mopping away his tears with a clean hankie, “When I got to the shop and it wasn’t open, I was so afraid, brother! I had no idea that there was any,” he lowered his voice as if he might be overheard by someone nefarious, never suspecting that the bad guys were already in the room, “gang activity in our area and I’ve no idea why they would target us, but Red assured me they can help us handle it.”

“and fer a very reasonable fee,” Red added with mocking cheer.

“A fee!” Rus spluttered, “but all this is—” Their fault, Rus couldn’t say, not when Blue began scolding.

“Now, brother, I understand how you feel, but honestly, it’s not fair to expect them to help us for free. They’re businessmen and they can’t simply offer charity,” Blue lowered his voice, whispering, “and if we have their help, then I won’t have to worry about you.” He turned to Edge then and said with trembling gratitude, “Thank you, for bringing him back to me.”

“You’re welcome,” Edge said gravely, and Rus seethed inwardly even as there came another knock at the door, that same rat-ta-tat as before. Edge cracked it open to reveal another Dog, this time in what looked like a butler’s uniform, like he’d stepped right out of the movie ‘Clue’ after taking tips from Tim Curry. “Please, show our guests to their room. They’ll be staying with us for a few days.”

The Dog nodded, waiting as Blue offered more profuse thank you’s for them ‘saving’ him and if Blue thought anything of Red’s wide grin and Edge’s calm silence, it didn’t show. He followed the Dog and Rus started to trail behind him.

“Wait.” A hand on his arm made Rus pause and he looked up at Edge, biting back what he wanted to say even as he looked uncomprehendingly at the thin black rectangle that suddenly appeared between Edge’s fingers. “Here.”

It was his missing phone. Rus snatched it away, powering it on and he couldn’t help but notice the wifi was already connected. Like someone had bypassed his password and took a peek, sonuvabitch.

Blue was looking at him expectantly and Rus muttered, “thank you,’ before hastily escaping out the door.

The room they were led to was almost as big as their entire house. There was a wide bed topped with down-filled pillows and a heavy duvet, surrounded by curtains that were pointless in a room with no windows. On the other side of the room was a sitting area with a wide sofa and on the coffee table there were a couple of trays with domed covers that could only be dinner. A shame Rus didn’t think he’d feel like eating for about a decade or so. A disinterested poke at the remote on the side table opened a panel to show a large television screen that Rus didn’t bother to turn on.

What a weird place, the inside seemed bigger than the out, like an evil Tardis or something.

Rus flopped down on the bed without even stripping off his apron, toeing off his sneakers to let them plop down to the floor. That Blue didn’t scold him for making mess was a pretty good tell of his mood. Instead, Blue boosted himself up onto the mattress, crawling across the wide expanse to sit next to Rus and his hand was gentle as he smoothed it over Rus’s skull. Rus let him, didn’t draw away as he considered what he wanted to say.

“blue,” Rus hesitated, and said carefully, “i don’t know if getting involved with these guys is such a good idea.”

His brother surprised him, admitting, “I’m not sure, either. But they said they can help us,” Blue offered him a tremulous smile. “Business has been a little on the slow side and we lost that money to that horrible thief we hired. Red told me they can help support us until we get the insurance money. Things will be better, then, I’m sure of it.”

Rus closed his sockets tightly, swallowing down any other objections, because he knew that tone. Things had been tough lately, he knew that, but his brother’s false cheer told a clear story that Blue hadn’t been updating him like he should’ve. If they didn’t go along with this, they’d lose everything.

They didn’t have a choice.

“sure, bro,” Rus tried to force some enthusiasm into it, wasn’t sure if he succeeded. He gave it about a fifty-fifty shot.

“You must be exhausted,” Blue said, still petting his skull, “You don’t need to talk about what happened right now, let me heal that for you and then you can get some rest.” Fiercely, he added, “It will be all right, brother, you’ll see!”

That soothing, familiar touch drifted down his bruised cheekbone, fingertips going warm as Blue pushed healing into the injured bone. Getting healed always made Rus sleepy and he drifted off before his brother could finish, basking in his Blue’s gentle affection and care.

When he woke, the room was dark and Blue was asleep beside him, the bed so large they didn’t touch even with their arms outstretched. He fumbled for his phone, squinting at the too-bright screen that told him it was after midnight. As late as it was and as exhausted, he still couldn’t fall back asleep, his weary thoughts tumbling over and over themselves, an endless thumping dryer inside his mind.

They’d be staying for a few days, Edge said. Days of the shop being closed, days of the flowers not being properly tended, stock lost along with missing out on deliveries, walk-in purchases, any sales at all. Blue said Red offered to help but, what if that was all for show? They could lose the shop and if they did, the house would be next. Everything they’d worked so hard for.

This was all Edge’s fault, yeah, sure, and Rus still didn’t know exactly why, but it was the truth. A truth that didn’t even matter because lying here fuming about it wasn’t helping. What he needed to do was make sure Edge forced his brother to keep his promises to help them and Rus wasn’t sure how. It wasn’t like he had anything to barter, even the shop was technically in Blue’s name.

Except. There was one thing Rus knew that Edge wanted. Oh, he’d tried to deny it this morning and then went the complete opposite way this afternoon, but Rus was pretty sure he understood what was up with that. A failed attempt to protect him from…whoever, at this point Rus should probably start a list…and beneath that was the truth.

Edge wanted him, that much Rus knew and maybe if he…if Rus gave it to him. Maybe if he offered to give Edge whatever he wanted, they could be sure their shop was safe.

Lying in the wide, unfamiliar bed, Rus swallowed hard. In his daydreams, he’d been eager for something like this, tumbling into bed with his tall, mysterious stranger and even now that Rus knew the truth, a faint warmth throbbed once between his legs at the thought.

His soul was less certain, shrinking back in his rib cage. Rus ignored it, slipping out from between the sheets. All he had to do was offer and endure, who knew, he might even like it. Didn’t matter if he did. If it kept their shop open, Rus would do whatever it took.

It was worth a shot.

tbc

Read Next Chapter

[itzagothamcitysiren]

Welcome to the Family

So I wanted to give a quick thank you to everyone whose supported this :) I really didn’t expect it, since I’ve been posting on other sites for a couple of years now with barely any response. So it’s very motivating and refreshing to see an active community! 

If anyone is interested I do have an account on fanfiction.net and AO3 but I haven’t been super active on there as of late. But if there are any Guardian of the Galaxy fans out there I do have two completed books posted and than a work in progress for that fandom :) Link to my fanfiction.net page and my AO3 page!

Also sorry for updating so late in the day. I’m still working during all the covid craziness and work was hella busy and stressful today. As soon as I got home I crashed for like four hours lol. Hopefully tomorrow will be better and I won’t be so tired. 

Never Wanted to be Here Now pt. 3

           Clothes had never been that important in Halley’s life; or better yet she should say that fashion had never played an important role in the ex-assassin’s life. Her father was many things but he always made sure she had what she needed. Her clothes had never been worn out or old due to their career they could afford to look nice.  And because of that Halley never really cared about appearances since her lack of impute in the clothing her father picked out for her.

           Outside of work, Slade wanted them to look professional, classy, as he put it. Her closet mostly consisted of black shirts and cardigans with the occasional simple black dress. Her pants and shoes were always comfortable as they were always on the move. Never was something flashy or over the top, unless the job called for a little undercover work of course. But practicality was something her father drilled into her from a young age.

           It wasn’t until moving into the tower did she really start to see that clothing could be used as a way to express oneself. Kori was more than eager to brighten up the girl’s bleak wardrobe and instantly began filling the girl’s new closet with hand-me-downs that the Tamaranean Princess simply grew out of. It wasn’t particularly what Halley could now recognize as her own taste but at the time she was just appreciative of putting anything on that wasn’t just black.

           When Kori insisted on taking her shopping before she was set to move in with Dick’s father, Halley was so used to having just what she needed that she didn’t see the need. But now, she was grateful and somewhat annoyed that she couldn’t wear the clothes she had bought at this exact moment. During her time with the Titans she actually began to get a personality; she actually liked things and knew a decent amount about pop culture; like she actually understood what Star Wars about now.  

           Wally and Victor had a field day because it was like Starfire all over again. You think storm troopers are the good guys? She remembered Wally’s voice cracking as he could hide his horrified reaction to the revelation that she had never seen the series of films that nearly everyone in the modern world held close to their hearts. She couldn’t count the amount of movie nights they had with her, feeding it to her like it was imperative information that was at the upmost importance for her to learn.

           She let her eyes wander to her closet, thinking of the Star Wars t-shirt she picked out during her shopping trip. She remembered running up to the guys eager to show them what she had picked out. She sighed as she remembered the proud look they shot down at her. Her smile from the fond memory faded as she turned back to face the mirror in front of her. Her eyes looked at her appearance, her lips slanted in displeasure. Halley was never one for dramatics’ but maybe Dick was rubbing off on her after all?

           Pulling at the tight collar of the white dress shirt, she reached onto her dresser to grab the next item of clothing that would surely make her body itch. Slipping the vest over her head and shoulders, she smoothed the thick navy blue fabric out while looking at the crest of Gotham Academy that was place over her heart. She would rather wear the uniform her father made for her than this. Stop being overdramatic, she cursed herself.

           It wasn’t that bad she supposed as she titled her head as if that would change how she looked. It wasn’t that she looked bad, technically she looked fine. The vest surprisingly didn’t make her look frumpy and the plaid, pleated skirt wasn’t too short but also wasn’t awkwardly long, just resting a few inches above her knees. And at least her footwear was comfortable much to her original thoughts. Alfred had called them saddle shoes and the name itself had made her feet already hurt.

           Halley just figured that this was the confirmation that this was her life now. Dick had called her the night before, wishing her good luck on her first day of school. Even Kori and Wally cut in, wishing her the same. She could tell they were trying to ease her worries about them, refusing to give her a straight answer when she asked where they were and what they were doing. Frowning again, she let out a sigh, pushing her hair back and off her shoulders.

           Should she wear it down? Or up? Braids?

           Rolling her eyes, she reached down for her backpack, deciding that her hair looked fine as it was.  It was just school, she told herself. She’d never been to one before but she had some short of idea what it was like.  The guys showed her at least a dozen movies that took place in High Schools. Granted she knew that there’d be no singing, or magic, or burn books, she knew kids her age were mean and terrible. Just look at Jason for example, surely not all of them were that way? But she told herself she’d ignore it all.  She was just there to learn and make Dick happy and that was it.

           “You done checking yourself out yet because we’re going to be late for school.” Speaking of the devil, there he was. Halley really hated herself for letting him sneak up on her yet again. Narrowing her eyes at him, she moved away from her mirror and reached towards her backpack. “Oh right, I’m supposed to knock,” Jason pretended to recall, fully remembering the long and stern conversation Bruce gave him about boundaries. He knocked on the doorframe, with a roll of his own eyes.

           Halley huffed, slinging the backpack over her shoulders before moving past him, making sure she bumped shoulders with him as she did. Jason turned to follow about to call her out but stopped when he saw her backpack. Sniggering he followed, picking his own up from the floor and putting it on. “You aren’t seriously going to use that thing, are you?”

           “Why wouldn’t I?” She questioned, squinting up at him as he matched her pace. They walked side by side down the long hallway until they reached the grand stairway. “Dick gave it to me; it’s a perfectly fine backpack.”

           “You can’t wear that! In Gotham? Are you crazy?” Jason laughed again, poking his finger at it and then into her side. “People aren’t too big on Supes over here.”

           She jerked her body away from him, bounding down the stairs to get a few steps in front of him. “I’m not that big of a fan either but it’s all I have, so it’ll make due.”

           “Alright, you’re funeral.” Jason shrugged, raising his hands in mock surrender. Halley rolled her eyes at him. He was just trying to wind her up before her first day. No one in their right mind would stab someone over a backpack; no one was that stupid.

           The pair reached the kitchen, Alfred laying out scrambled eggs and bacon for them. He informed them to eat quickly, as he didn’t want Halley to be late on her first day. Being her first day, she had to get there a little bit earlier to meet her student counselor and receive her schedule, as well as meet the student she was supposed to shadow.

           Just as it did on her first morning her, breakfast ended all too quickly and she soon found herself in the back of the car, sitting to the right of Jason this time. Even the drive, which took about thirty minutes, since the Manor was on the outskirts of the city, felt as if it only took a handful of minutes. She was sat in the backseat as Alfred parked the car to let them out. Halley’s eyes widened at the large, imposing building with teenagers scattered about, chattering and laughing. It wasn’t the first time she saw the building, attending the rides with Alfred all of last week but saying that Halley was suddenly feeling dazed would be an understatement.

           She jumped as she heard a car door slam and then saw Jason walking around the car. He stopped a foot away from her door, looking impatiently. He was waiting for her. She quickly picked up her backpack, suddenly not wanting him to leave her if he got tired of waiting. He was better than nothing. As she shrugged her bag on, she opened the door but not before quickly thanking Alfred for the ride.

           “It was not a problem at all, Miss. Good luck on your first day.” He nodded to her as she closed the door.

           She watched as he began to drive away, before turning back to Jason. Her hands instantly pulled down her skirt as they began to walk. She suddenly felt exposed. Was her underwear showing? Why were people staring at her? It only took mere seconds for her to notice it, but the crowds of teens seemed to go silent as she walked back them with Jason. Were those whispered she was hearing. It was the backpack; Jason was right about the-,

           “Chill, damn girl, your face is so red right now.” Jason hissed out, tauntingly. He looked her up and down; this girl had issues. “It’s just cause you’re with me. People around here heard Bruce Wayne took in another kid.”

           “Oh, so it’s not the backpack?” she said quietly, pushing her hair behind her ears, trying to cool herself off.

           The chuckle Jason let out wasn’t like his usual. It seemed genuine and somewhat playful. She looked up at him confused. Jason looked back down, opening the door for them once they reached it. She looked somewhat adorable fretting over everything and shook his head, putting a hand on the said backpack. Gently, he pushed her through the doors.

           “I was just messing with you.” He grasped the bag for emphasis before letting it go. They began to walk at an even pace with each other again, Jason clearly leading the way with Halley following like a lost puppy. “I mean it’s a pretty lame backpack, and people are most likely going to call you a giant dork but you won’t get murdered over it.”

           Halley glared up at him, before realizing that she reached out and lightly slapped him upside the head. She didn’t know what came over her, it wasn’t like she did it maliciously. It wasn’t done out of rage like when she had slapped him her first day here. She felt this weird playful anger inside her and that’s how her consciousness expressed that sudden feeling. The pair stopped walking, earning looks of annoyance as the people walking behind them nearly walked into them.

           Jason’s hand rested on his head where she’d slapped him. Halley opened her mouth to apologize; she’d seen Dick and Kori do that to one another jokingly but that was different. They were a couple, they were close. She and Jason had barely spoke, let alone civilly with each other during her first week with them. But before she could apologize, he just laughed, using his hand that was holding his head to lightly push her shoulder.  “You really are a dork.”

           Halley’s face turned red, unsure of how she felt during this situation. Seeing this Jason just shrugged, putting his hands in his pant pockets. Nodded forward, he motioned her to get moving again. He began leading her to the guidance counselor like Bruce told him to make sure he did.  

           The rest of the walk was silent between them. The halls were loud enough as it were and Halley was just trying to take it all in. She thought since this was supposed to be filled with a bunch of rich kids it’d be a little tamer? She grimaced when she saw a couple practically sucking each other’s faces off against some lockers. Looking away quickly, to not wanting to get caught staring, she kept her eyes facing forward.

           Jason did his job and quickly left her, mumbling something about seeing her out front after school. Sighing but not surprised that Jason ditched her as soon as his obligation was up, Halley opened the oak door, entering the room. Looking around, she was greeted by a lady sitting at a desk and a couple of students looking less than thrilled sitting on seats up against a wall. Halley walked up to the desk, clearing her throat to get the lady to look up.

           “Hi, I was told to come here. It’s my first day.” She said awkwardly, fidgeting with her backpack strap.

           “Name?” the woman sighed, sounding how the kids looked.

           “Halley Wil- Wayne.” Halley cursed to herself, quickly correcting her mistake. Putting a smile on her face, which was of course fake, she repeated herself this time with some sort of confidence. “Halley Wayne.”

           The woman perked up at that, looking up from her desk and work; Bruce Wayne was a large donor to the school. “Oh yes! Welcome to Gotham Academy, Mrs. Patterson can see you right now, right through those doors.”

           Halley raised an eye at the woman’s sudden attitude change but nevertheless thanked her before turning to the doors she pointed too. Inside the woman, her counselor, Mrs. Patterson was just the same. It wasn’t until she spoke her new name did she start to treat her like a human being or well more than one actually. These people were so fake it made her want to escape back to her tower and be locked away from the world again. It didn’t get much better throughout the day and she was beginning to understand why Jason was always in such a bad mood on the car ride home.

           She’d been paired up with a tall, black haired girl who seemed nice at first glance but Halley quickly learned that like many of the people here, she was what Dick called a snoot. When the girl finally looked away from her phone, she introduced herself as Sam, but then went back to her phone. The two girl’s shared their homeroom together, Halley still unsure of the concept. They only set in the room for about fifteen minutes as the teacher checked them in and then they left for their first class with a ring of a bell. Did they not trust the students to show up?

           Sam showed her to her first class, which they shared together again. Halley half expected for the girl to sit with her but couldn’t say she was shocked to find herself sitting alone in the back of the room the entire class. She could barely follow what was happening; she was halfway through the term and never read the Iliad before, or anything like such before. She obviously she knew how too but she didn’t have much time for reading growing up and ancient Greek epics weren’t something Slade Wilson considered an important part of her education.

           As the bell rang, Sam waited impatiently for Halley too collect her things, shoving them into her backpack. When she caught up to her, Sam just looked at her bag and raised an eyebrow, “So you’re into superheroes?”

           Halley could sense the distaste laced in her tone and just shrugged, remembering Jason’s warning. “There, um, okay, I guess. I mean if it weren’t for them, who’d save us you know?” She laughed lamely, wanting to slap herself for sounding so, so civilian.

           “I guess,” Sam shrugged leading her to her next class.

           “It’s really my older brother’s backpack, he let me have it.” She added, abruptly, causing Sam to eye her strangely. Halley awkwardly smiled, turning her face quickly away from the taller girl. Calling Dick her older brother felt weird, never really having a title for him but to the world they were technically siblings and she didn’t know, was trying to sound cool? Gross.

           “Ohhhh,” Sam said, looking away from her phone. She suddenly had a look of sudden interest. “You mean Dick Grayson? He’s hot; my sister was in the same grade as him. He came over sometimes for parties and stuff. You’re so lucky you get to live with him, he has like the greatest ass-,”

           Halley grimaced as Sam spent the entirety of their walk gushing over her brother. She’d never saw Dick as the way Sam was describing him and it made her slightly uncomfortable. She was glad when Sam dropped her off in front of an open doorway. Sam didn’t share this next class with her, instead stating how she had a slip that allowed her to leave class early to meet her back here so she could show her to her next one.

           The rest of the day played out all the same. She’d sit through a tortuous forty-five minutes, learning things she either already knew, or things she knew were useless in the real world. Then in between each class she’d be pestered by Sam. The girl bombarded the new student with questions about Dick Grayson. Eventually, the girl moved on to other topics. Asking if Bruce Wayne really did bring different woman home every night and of course the big how much money does he actually have, question. Even during lunch Sam insisted she sit with her friends and Halley felt as if she stepped right that scene from the Mean Girl’s movie Wally showed her. She knew how this was going to go down and quickly excused herself to use the restroom and never went back, instead opting to ask some nice boy for directions to her next class.  She was restless and agitated.

           Her free period was when she found herself finally deciding this whole school thing wasn’t for her. At least in her classes, the time slightly went by quicker. She tried to start her homework, another concept she didn’t understand, but quickly gave up, slamming the textbooks closed.  She blushed when the surrounding students looked at her from the sound and started whispering. Frowning, she quickly picked up her books and left the library, wandering the halls for the rest of the thirty minutes, masterfully avoiding the teachers who she would surely get in trouble with for being in the halls during class; which was another stupid concept.

           But despite how her day really went, she still put on a good face when the day was over. She wouldn’t want to come off as ungrateful if she spoke truthfully. Her day was great, and she met a lot of nice people. She didn’t spend her lunch alone in a bathroom stall and she most definitely was looking forward to going back tomorrow.  

[comic-brew]

Anemos

Summary: Grief is like a toxin, invading your every pore and spreading like the plague, leaving behind nothing but a jade black painted husk. Hollowed out, resembling more of a dead shell than a man.

Notes: Another last minute @jaytemisweek2020 fic! I really am incorrigible. Song: Anemos by Katherine Duska and Leon of Athens. I'm sorry in advance

Reading time: 18 mins (2.2k words)

Warnings: dealing with grief, fake character death, angst angst angst

Or read here on ao3!

***

Hurried wind, blowing forth

"Hey, Princess... It's Jason."

The phone had already started recording, the whooshing sound of passing vehicles was simply a miserable undercurrent to his already bitter voice.

He looked around at the city's skyline. It seemed so familiar from his spot on the rooftop, yet the empty, discarded bottles of scotch in the far back reminded him just how bloody different everything was. How it would never be the same.

"Well uh.."

He trailed off, coughing dryly and staring at the seconds passing on the screen. He scrambled to find the right words. He had so much to say -too much- so he might as well end up saying nothing. It didn't matter anyway.

"It's Wednesday today. We… we had plans for this morning. We were gonna grab breakfast at that terrible diner that you somehow like so much. Shaw's."

He chuckled bitterly.

"I seriously don't know why you like that crap. I'd rather eat Dick's cooking than go there again, and that should be saying something. Although-"

His eyes glistened under the moonlight, tears fighting to be spilt out of their glacial blue. Jason tried to swallow back the lump in his throat. He had to do this.

"I would relieve Quraq all over again if it meant getting to be dragged there -or anywhere- by you again- I-"

His voice broke, bent like a flower's rachis crunched beneath a boot. Jason finally gave way to the tears, flowing in beads across his cheeks. He put the phone down for a second, to brush away the salty waterfalls.

Hurried wind, he whispered to me: 'stay

"You know what? This is stupid"

A small scoff evaded his lips. A little insane. Perhaps a bit more of a sniffle as his kevlar enhanced shoulders drooped even further down.

He sat back down on the cement. Plopped the phone down on the ground next to his helmet, his forehead burrowed in his hands. Perhaps to hide the pain, to keep it locked inside. Trying to hold the weight of his head so that his neck wouldn't have to. It felt so heavy. Everything was heavy and fuzzy, thick and inky like a bog eager to consume him.

There was no bog, of that he was sure. So.. that left only the gaping hole in his chest.

Yeah, that should be it.

Dark matter was devouring him, sucking him from the inside, to make up for the absence of a heart beneath his ribcage.

I'm becoming one with the wind now

Lifting his head up from his gloved palms, he rested his fingers on his chin. Limbs huddled closely together, in a small bundle of 6 foot tall boy. A small bundle screaming in despair, even without the air tingling at his vocal chords. His every cell was radiating anguish, Jason could almost reimagine the bleak stench of death encompassing his meager existence.

He drew in a deep shaky breath, shuddering at the sudden chill blowing against his body. He kept shivering even after the soft gust had dissipated.

Blow forth with the wind, a kiss piercing me like a bullet in the middle of the night

The sharp 'ping' indicating the halt in the recording was almost lost amidst the cacophony of horns and shouts rebounding from the city streets. Gotham highway was hazardous on normal days. Only a more terrible place for grieving souls, even above it and by the familiar coldness of a gargoyle made of stone.

Jason would push this all aside and bury the pain deep down, he really would. But he didn't- he didn't get to say goodbye. His eyes welled up once more as he gazed solemnly down at the passerbys, going about their lives while his felt almost frozen in time.

Seconds weren't ticking anymore when the clock on his phone was pointing at midnight all of a sudden. Tears had been closely followed by sobs as he gulped down the last drop of liquid numbness.

It didn't numb the pain nearly enough.

At the final hitch of his breath, Jaso let his feet dangle from the edge of the rooftop as he was picking up the bloody device with Artemis' name and smile displayed, captured for eternity in an almost mundane moment of joy that he recalled being so heavenly.

It was at the beach. He remembers the feel of sand and wet hair between his fingers, remembers the soft crashing of the cerulean waves and how those same waves felt against his bare skin, and how his skin felt encompassed in her warmth.

Take me far away from here, you're the only one dressing me in light amidst the darkness

Jason remembers the tender whispers of nothings that held more value than all the knowledge in the universe. Those everythings now were truly nothing, if not for sharpened blades slashing deep into his skin. The faint aftertaste of salty lips and a smile so lovely in his eyes it could outbrighten the midday sun, now simply reduced to the shine of a katana embedded in his chest.

Twisting.

God… Why does it hurt so much?

He started another recording. The words kept nagging at his brain, they needed to be let out lest they ate away chunks of his soul. His soul that had already been split in half, drowned out in the haziness of regret and guilt.

His hand shot up to wipe at the tears but they were already dried roads carved into his flesh.

Grief is like a toxin, invading your every pore and spreading like the plague, leaving behind nothing but a jade black painted husk. Hollowed out, resembling more of a dead shell than a man.

I'm becoming one with the wind now

"It's me again. One more and I'll let you rest" he paused. "I promise"

Taking a deep ragged breath, searching his mind for any and every final bit of strength and courage, he continued.

"I-I love you, princess. I love you so damn much"

He sighed.

"I should have said it sooner, but my fucking trust issues… I just- I just thought we had more time"

This time when his eyes flooded he let the tears flow freely. There was nobody there to see them, nobody there to ask.

Nobody

My dream, my secret, sink me deep into the wind

"And it fucking hurts that you're gone, you can't even begin to imagine just how much... I don't- I don't think that much pain is able to be measured. Every time I even think of you my heart is just.. shattered -no- shredded into a million pieces I know I'll never be able to put back together"

If he was gonna do this, he was gonna do it right. No holding back on his emotions, no use trying to conceal the aching claw impaling his heart, stopping it from thumping in the right rythm. Broken, every attempt at pulsing was as good as a heaving sob of loneliness.

Broken..

"A thing that breaks is never the same, huh?"

The words were said in a somewhat joking manner but his lips hadn't got the energy nor will to twitch into a smile. His muscles felt like marble, securely tight into place no matter how much his brain ordered them to unclench. The pain tugged at his soul, wanting to pull him down, down below and sink him right through the murky depths of its abyss, until pain was all he could sense.

>I want the pain in my eyes, the ashes, the fire

The pain was close- he was already starting to asphyxiate, he wasn't prepared to hold his breath when his head was pushed underwater.

"And Biz.. he misses you a lot too. He's obliterated, and that's putting it mildly"

His voice was rasped and broken when he next spoke, the ever growing lump had almost clogged his throat.

"Please come back"

It was merely a whisper, the exhale of his final breath of hope assuming a material from. The desperate last stand of a wildflower against the harsh cold of winter. Jason closed his eyes, shutting out the harpies' eerie songs reminding him that she's truly gone, drifted away with a wind that never quite got to caress his skin.

I'm not afraid, you're here now

Next thing Jason knew was he'd been yelling, shouting loudly for the words to beat the lump and the anxiety. The air rising up his throat clawed against his trachea but he didn't care as long as his feelings weren't lost with the breeze. Even if the person they were aimed at never got to receive them.

His passion finally died out, turned to ashes smoldering miserably beneath his scarred flesh. Who would know when he saw him, that the most painful of his scars was the one nobody could ever trace with the pads of their fingers.

I want to last another breath in the deep

The sorrow was starting to become unbearable as that wonderfully radiant smile disappeared from the screen, belonging to a different lifetime. One that ended when the spark of fire wavered in her emerald eyes, much alike the fainting last flame on the wick of a candle.

With frantic movements he fumbled to whip out his pack of cigars and lighter. He held them in front of his chest, staring holes in the nicotine filled package, guilt settling in the pit of his stomach. Artemis never wanted him to smoke and continue ruining his lungs, she didn't want him to let the it slowly chip away at his health. He hadn't felt the mellow sensation of his worries evaporating and blending in with the smoke in months. She was all he had needed to feel whole.

I'm not afraid, you're here now

The guilt was drowned and lost beneath the pain as Jason placed the cigarette between his lips and set it aflame.

Artemis wasn't there anymore to care.

***

"Just- I know it's hopeless, but if it happened to me, then why do the people I love keep dying?"

Even the mechanical sound of the recording couldn't dim the pain that laced Jason's voice, bitter like a bird that broke its wings.

She let a stray sniffle escape her.

"First Roy, now y-you.. Is this some short of sick joke, universe?! Alright, Jason, you come back, so you can get attached to people and witness everything fall apart so you can feel it. Yeah, the irony wouldn't have worked if I hadn't died, right?!"

The pointy lines of the recording ascended, indicating the increase in volume. Still, there was no way to show the despair with which he clung to the rage.

She pushed back the tears.

"Oh, Arty…"

He was crying.

The tears fought harder to be freed, somehow proving to be even stronger than an Amazon.

I want to run, to leave, go to the open sea

"I have no fucking idea what I'm supposed to do!" the voice uttered. That deep timbre that could soothe and comfort her in a heartbeat was reaching her thorn studded, tying her insides in a knot.

She started weeping quietly. A duet for two broken hearts.

There was a big pause in the sound, yet the needle kept running to reach the end of the voicemail, she was beginning to fear that tinted in pure anguish would be his last word she'd cherish in her memory.

A snort interrupted her abrupt panic. She wiped at the tears as she let old memories be carved into her brain.

I want to touch the sun before I fade in the dark

"Look at me. I'm ranting in a voicemail meant for you. I must be fucking delusional but... I still- I still believe you'll hear all of this someday.."

Her chest heaved with increasing difficulty as the guilt gradually consumed her. He was mourning the loss of her, oblivious to the fact that her heart was still beating, and aching with every poisoned word.

He was going to hate her, but she preferred the man she loved to be able to loathe her, than to take this futile love to his grave.

I'm becoming one with the wind now

She would protect her little one, no matter the cost doing so already relayed upon her heart.

"Well I.." he begun, clearing his throat. "I guess this is goodbye" he said softly, cautiously, and the message ended with a pained 'I love you'.

Artemis murmured back a goodbye. Her breath caught on her throat, she had to exert herself to convince her lungs to draw another sharp intake of air.

She stared at Jason's contact before she'd have to dispose of her phone and everything that bound her to her previous life. She gave the picture of the man a tight lipped smile, tears running down her skin as she muttered an 'I'm sorry'.

I'm not afraid, you're here now

A finger hovered above a tear tainted delete button as wreaked sobs echoed throughout the dark room. The dark room where the shadows danced a walz of death and chaos, giggling under the starlight pouring in from the only window.

Someday.. Perhaps someday she could see her love again.

The finger came down and the shadows danced no more.

I'm becoming one with the wind.

[nitrateglow]

Favorite film discoveries of 2019

Every year, my new-to-me favorites list always shocks me in some way. This year, the sheer amount of movies made in the 2010s on display is INSANE by my standards. Of course, most of the modern movies here are throwbacks or tributes to older styles of cinema, so maybe it’s not that shocking in the long run.

Another running trend this year: movies that are old but not as dated as we would wish. Many of the older films here deal with xenophobia and political strife in ways that still feel shockingly prescient today-- the more things change...

ONCE UPON A TIME... IN HOLLYWOOD (DIR. QUENTIN TARANTINO, 2019)

I never thought the day would come where my favorite movie of the year would actually be made after the 1970s, let alone by Quentin Tarantino. Then again, this movie is all about the end of Old Hollywood as well as a big love letter to the 1960s, so maybe it’s not that shocking a state of affairs. I adored this movie, the level of detail, the laidback yet elegaic vibe, the comedy and the relationships between all the characters. It was one of those movies where I loved even the scenes where nothing seems to be happening at all-- I mean, who knew Brad Pitt feeding his dog and watching TV could be entertaining?? But it is and I can't wait to see this one again!

INTENTIONS OF MURDER (DIR. SHOHEI IMAMURA, 1964)

Intentions of Murder has an insane premise, one that runs the risk of being tasteless: a housewife in a miserable, exploitative marriage is raped by a sickly burglar during a home invasion. Even worse, she can’t shake him, as he’s suddenly infatuated and wants her to run away with him to the city. And weirder still: her current existence is so miserable that she’s TEMPTED. While abuse and rape are grim subjects for any story, Intentions is actually about a woman coming into her own and finally standing strong against all these men trying to use her. It’s a weird blend of drama and dark comedy, a truly savage satire on patriarchy and class-snobbery.

JOKER (DIR. TODD PHILLIPS, 2019)

I went into this movie expecting to think it was overhyped and when I first left the theater, I was all ready to say “it’s good but not THAT good.” But it ended up haunting me for weeks afterward, and I found myself thinking about how everything just tied up so well together, from the grotty urban hellscape which serves as the setting to Phoenix’s brilliant performance. It reminded me a lot of A Clockwork Orange in how intimate it lets you get to this violent man while never pretending he is someone to be glamorized or imitated.

SIMON (DIR. MARSHALL BRICKMAN, 1980)

How do I even describe Simon? Alan Arkin is brainwashed by a group of overpaid intellectuals into believing he is descended from an alien toaster. Then he gets a messiah complex and starts gathering disciples as he rails against television, condiment packets, and muzak. It’s a little uneven at times, sure, but the satire is really inspired. The whole thing is like a combination of Mel Brooks, Stanley Kubrick, and Woody Allen’s styles, and it is quite hilarious for those who thrive on cult oddities.

PEEPING TOM (DIR. MICHAEL POWELL, 1960)

Though it came out the same year as Hitchcock’s Psycho and has been nearly as influential for horror cinema, Peeping Tom remains underseen by everyone save for film theorists. And what a shame that is, because this movie is more frightening than Psycho. Sure, that may be because Psycho is so predominant in popular culture and just so influential that it no longer has the same shock value, but there’s something about Peeping Tom that gets under my skin, something sad, even disgusting. I felt dirty after watching it-- and this is 2019!

MIDNIGHT MARY (DIR. WILLIAM WELLMAN, 1933)

Loretta Young got one of her juiciest roles in this pre-code crime drama. Her Mary Martin is more than just a good girl forced into criminal circles-- she’s a complicated creature, compassionate and desperate and lonely and bitter and sensual all at once. This movie is a fast-paced, beautifully filmed ride, cloaked in that Depression-era cynicism that makes pre-code Hollywood of such interest to movie geeks the world over.

WILD BOYS OF THE ROAD (DIR. WILLIAM WELLMAN, 1933)

Wild Boys of the Road is a quintessential Depression-era movie, relentless in its bleakness and rage. That the main characters are all starving kids only looking for work makes their struggles all the harder to watch. William Wellman is quickly becoming one of my favorite directors: his gritty style and compact storytelling are just perfect for a ripped-from-the-headlines drama such as this. And the “happy” ending has one little moment that just knocks any smile you have right off your mug. Absolutely see this.

THE RUSSIANS ARE COMING, THE RUSSIANS ARE COMING (DIR. NORMAN JEWISON, 1966)

Sometimes, when you watch a movie only because a favorite actor is in it, you get subjected to pure trash like Free and Easy (oh, the things I do for Buster Keaton). Other times, you get cute gems like The Russians are Coming, The Russians are Coming, which, as you probably guessed, I mainly sought out for Alan Arkin. But the whole movie is hilarious, the best kind of farce comedy, populated by enjoyable characters and a sweet-tempered humanism that grounds the wackiness. While a little overlong, this movie is quite underrated-- and sadly, its satire of American xenophobia and Cold War panic is not as dated as we would like to believe.

ALL THE PRESIDENT’S MEN (DIR. ALAN J. PAKULA, 1976)

Who knew a political thriller where most people know the twist could be so intense and riveting? It’s about as nonsensical as feeling suspense when you watch a movie about the Titanic and hope the boat won’t sink-- but damn, it’s magical. All the President’s Men is real white-knuckle stuff, with Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman projecting both youthful excitement and deep panic as they proceed with their investigation. It scarcely seems to have aged at all.

WHISPER OF THE HEART (DIR. YOSHIFUMI KONDOU, 1995)

There’s a scene near the end of Whisper of the Heart where the protagonist Shizuku shows the finished first draft of her fantasy novel to her first reader, the grandpa of one of her schoolmates. She weeps because it isn’t the perfect image she had in her head, despite how hard she worked on it, but the old man tells her that it takes polishing and discipline to make the work come to its full potential. Few movies about artists are so honest about how hard it can be, how unsupportive others can be in their demand that everyone be “practical.” As a writer who struggles to create and constantly doubts herself, this movie spoke strongly to me. I recommend it to any creative person.

THE PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE (DIR. BRIAN DE PALMA, 1976)

I’d been wanting to see this movie since my high school phan days. Holy crap, is it WEIRDER than I could have ever imagined, a true camp masterpiece. I’m shocked it was never tuned into a stage show actually, but then again, we would miss those trippy camera angles and we wouldn’t have Paul Williams as one of the greatest villains of all time.

DUEL (DIR. STEVEN SPIELBERG, 1971)

When people talk about the best movies made in the “Hitchcock without Hitchcock directing” tradition, why is Duel so seldom mentioned? The scene in the cafe, packed with paranoid tension and tense camerawork, alone should qualify it. Duel is most known as the movie which put the young Steven Spielberg on the map. It’s quite different from his later work, grittier and less whimsical for sure. Even the ending seems almost nihilistic, depending on how you view it. But damn, if it isn’t fine filmmaking.

CAROL (DIR. TODD HAYNES, 2015)

This gorgeous throwback to Douglas Sirk melodramas is also one of the best romantic movies I’ve seen in a while. Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara have the sweetest, tenderest chemistry-- it was like seeing Lauren Bacall and Audrey Hepburn as love interests in a film. Unlike Sirk, there is little in the way of ripe melodrama here-- everything is underplayed, aching, mature. And I can say this is an adaptation that is better than the source book: it just feels so much warmer.

12 ANGRY MEN (DIR. SIDNEY LUMET, 1957

All I can say is that this was every bit equal to the hype. Common movie wisdom says people sitting and talking in a room is going to be boring on film, but movies like 12 Angry Men prove this is not so when you’ve got an excellently tense atmosphere, an inspired script, and a stable of fine actors to work with. Like The Russians are Coming, the Russians are Coming, this movie has not significantly aged-- much to society’s discredit.

A STAR IS BORN (DIR. GEORGE CUKOR, 1954)

Another movie I went into not expecting to love as much as I did. When movies from the 20s or 30s tended to get remakes in the 1950s, I always find them too garish and big, victims of glossy Cinemascope and overlong runtimes. Compared to the lean 1937 classic original, I expected sheer indulgence from this three-hour remake. Instead, I got my heart torn out all over again-- the longer runtime is used well, fleshing out the characters to a greater degree. Judy Garland and James Mason both give what might be the best efforts of their respective careers, and the satire of the celebrity machine remains as relevant and scathing as ever.

BLANCANIEVES (DIR. PABLO BERGER, 2012)

Oh, it feels like this movie was made for me specifically. It’s shot in gorgeous, expressionistic black-and-white. It’s set in the 1920s. It’s a clever adaptation of a classic fairy tale. It’s as funny and charming as it is bittersweet and macabre. Instead of more superhero movies, can we get more neo-silent movies like this? PLEASE?

THE FAVOURITE (DIR. YORGOS LANTHIMOS, 2018)

I’ve heard The Favourite described as a “bitchy lesbian Shakespeare play,” but this description, while a little true in terms of general tone, does not get to the heart of what makes this film brilliant. More than love or sex, this movie is about power-- particularly the corrupting influence of power. And it corrupts not only morals but love itself. Innocents become Machiavellian schemers. Lovers become sadomasochistic enemies. Good intentions turn to poison. This certainly isn’t a happy movie, but it is moving and, strangely enough, also hilarious. I was reminded of the chilly, satirical world of Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon more than once-- and for me, that is not a bad movie to be reminded of.

ON THE WATERFRONT (DIR. ELIA KAZAN, 1954)

Another classic that’s been on my list forever that I was delighted to find worthy of its reputation. It’s a classic tale of redemption and social justice, perfectly acted and shot. While I still prefer A Streetcar Named Desire as far as Kazan is concerned, this might be a better movie in the objective sense. Actually, more than even Brando, Karl Malden is the acting highlight for me-- he plays a priest torn between staying silent or truly speaking for the Gospel by demanding justice for the poor parish he serves. Just brilliant work.

KLUTE (DIR. ALAN J. PAKULA, 1971)

A perfect thriller, just about, and a great example of the “NYC is hell on earth” subgenre of the 1960s and 1970s. Jane Fonda is a revelation: she feels so real, not at all like a starlet trying to seem normal if you know what I mean.

KISS KISS BANG BANG (DIR. SHANE BLACK, 2005)

As far as subversive noir goes, this is the most entertaining. I would put it up there with The Big Lebowski as far as goofy takes on Raymond Chandler are concerned-- I don’t even really know what to make of it, but I laughed my ass off anytime I wasn’t going “WHAT???”

What were your favorite film discoveries in 2019?

[torunarigha]

hertha thoughts ahead (warning: dramatic sports fan time)

apparently hertha is making me... anxious? my throat is really dry all the sudden. so this will probably be the last you’ll see of me for a bit on here (i say this now but when shit goes down with hertha, you know i’ll come crying back to here)

um yeah. we’re not relegated yet! so not quite sure why it feels like everything’s crashing down around us. i guess because we were so close to relegation a while ago and got a ton of new players, new coach, things seemed to be working well and now we STILL suck. like we’re somehow even worse than we were with dardei??? who was a great coach and everyone loved him and we all want him back please. please pal please.

i hated it from the beginning. the big city club bullshit spewed by klinsmann and the rest but i tried to get into it and have fun which was easy when we were winning. but now we’ve sold out and for what? embarrassment??? being the lachnummer of every matchday? idk man. i guess we’re picking up some of the slack from schalke or something. its not enough to have one blue team suffering we have to have two.

i just want the graue maus back. i want lars windhorst to go away. well... maybe put some of his money into turbine and then go away. and i want to be mediocre. let union have all the fun i dont care. sure i’ll be bitter but i’d rather play with mediocrity and soul than whatever this is. i don’t know these players??? who are they??? i’ve already attached myself to them but still who are they??? the only ones out of the starting lineup that i recognize from when i first was here is jordan, niklas, and darida. everyone else is new and i feel like they dont want to be here anymore. this isn’t what they signed up for probably. like go!! go on go!!!! i want vedo, and duda back (sala too but... probably impossible... and DAVIE god... he broke my heart today and i dont know if i can forgive him). i want rune back in goal. love schwolli but he’s def one of the ones im thinking of. take me back to 18/19 hertha. that’s what i want.

this is just useless ramblings. i dont feel any better. there’s so substance to back in this. my throat feels just as dry. i have still just as much school work to do as when i woke up this morning. i’ll probably keep this for posterity. to read on a sunnier day when things are better. because i know they’ll get there eventually. it just feels so dark right now, everything does. so hertha on top of it? bleak. i’ll just fill my night with star wars, pedro pascal, and cleaning my damn apartment and be good as new tomorrow. another day, another day, just trying to get some rest, another day, another day...

[spacexmagicxandxsheepxbleats]

Can you do drable about your ideas? A drable of her as the Speaker maybe? Please?

TW: Language

//: 1,984 words - enjoy :)

“I thought I’d find you out here...” Zavala’s words echoed softly in the wreckage around them. Standing just behind her and to her right the Titan waited until she acknowledged him to come any closer.

“...I remember, when all of this was nothing but tents and wooden palisades...people didn’t have a pot to piss in back then but, they made do...” Her helmet was in her lap, the scared and blackened bone looked almost soft in the predawn light. But the eyes...the sockets always radiated they're own bleak, nothingness...

With the same caution as before he came up next to her, kneeling down beside her to look over what remained of the district below the Tower’s ruin.

“You come for what,Vanguard...? To see what was wrought and ruined or to lecture me for leaving your sight..?” As she spoke, The Ram nudged her glasses up the bridge of her nose, a soft frost hanging in the cold morning air as she spoke. Her words seemed to lack any venom but the tinge of it in her expression wasn’t lost on the man.

“Ikora,” He began tentatively, “wanted to come for you,  but we both know that’s not a good idea...” Zavala trailed off, his own steam hovering briefly before dissipating, the crunch of broken glass and gravel gave him pause and in glancing over his shoulder he saw Cayde standing there, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“So you bring him instead...?” A hard edge entered her voice, the Hunter coming up on her left as if her words were an invitation to come closer and sit.

Cayde threw his arm over the Risen’s shoulders, leaning into her with a warm chuckle, “Wouldn’t be good to miss the sun rise...hate to waste it after everything we went through getting this place back.”

She drew a slow, steadying breath through her nose before letting it escape through the hole in her left cheek. The resulting plume of breath drew another chuckle from the Exo as he smartly retracted his arm stretching his arms above his head before resting his palms on the roof and leaning back comfortably.

Ezra didn’t bother looking at either of them, instead she pulled what remained of her lips back into a scowl as the sound of footsteps once again drifted up behind her, “I don’t recall inviting any of you to join me this morning...”

Unbothered by the scathing remark Ikora came up short, preferring to remain a safe distance from the woman the others flanked. “It’s for..”

“Security reasons...because you can not let the past die, even after the truly guilty party as been tried and executed per the judgement of Old and the Lords of Iron.”

“That’s not...”

“Then pray tell, Why?” Ezra had gotten to her feet then, easing up, quickly, to stand between the still knelt and sat Cayde and Zavala. Both knew it was only a matter of time before the Risen’s ire with Ikora boiled over and now it was simmering very close to the surface, so much so that when she stood her helm nearly tumbled from the blasted out building’s roof.

If it weren’t for Cayde’s quick reflexes the armor would have landed among the wreckage below... he shuddered slightly as he held the item, as if it gave him the physical creeps...

Ikora didn’t answer, didn’t back down, but rather brought her hand from her side. Extending her fingers, palm up, to allow her Ghost to materialize just above her skin’s surface in a shower of pale light.

Cayde and Zavala had gotten to their feet, the Hunter lifting his empty hand to bring his Ghost out, as did the Titan.

She frowned, staring at the three Ghosts as her own materialized from the ether.

/”Actually, we wanted to talk to you about something.”\ Ophiuchus, Ikora’s Ghost began carefully, while Sundance and Zavala’s silent machine made to hover near him. Rev, to, took his place near Ophiuchus.

Heaving a slow sigh, a sign to Revenant that she was on the verge of snapping, Ezra ground her teeth before motioning the Ghost to continue.

/”Revenant, says that you still hear a voice, even though Erabus has retreated from your mind. He, says you hear it most as a faint whisper and that you feel the words are important enough to write down.\”

The frown on the Risen’s face prompted Ophiuchus to pause a moment, /”He, hasn’t shared any of the writings with us, only their nature and, as Ghosts we have reason to believe it may be the Traveler speaking to you. We, think perhaps Erabus’ invasion of your mind for so long opened it up to actually hearing what the Speaker never could...”\

Scoffing, waving her hand as if to clear the air of such nonsense Ezra turned away from the small committee of Lights, only to scowl at Cayde and turn back to face the city.

“You know, they may be on to something..” The Exo raised his hand, making to settle it on her shoulder, which to the surprise of all she allowed.

“Or, it could be a ploy on your end to cage me...You couldn’t prior to all of this, nor could those who had your places before you...” Her rising ire had given way to tired exasperation, the rising sun peeking over the wreckage of the city, glinting at the edges of the thick lenses of her round glasses, setting her silver hair a glow in a halo of orange and yellow.

Ikora moved then, reaching out as Cayde did, her hand resting in the right side crux of the woman’s neck, “It, wouldn’t be to imprison you...you’ve done nothing wrong. The people of the city do not fear you, your actions before the Traveler’s awakening saw to that.”

“Help us rebuild, Ezra. No binds, no chains.” Zavala refrained from touching her, knowing that Ikora and Cayde already pushed the limit.

“Well, except the chains of office.” Cayde laughed, clapping his hand against the woman’s shoulder, his smile fading with Ikroa’s withering gaze. “What? Was just...” He sighed and closed his mouth.

“...What of my home? The forest, the Wilders...Erabus...my Eliksni...?” The latter portion of her question saw Ikora drawing her hand back, letting it fall to her side as Ezra turned to face her. “I’ll not suffer the chains of an office if it means they are left to the mercy of who ever stumbles upon them...”

“We can discuss all of those things later.” Now, Zavala reached for her, turning her carefully to look at him, his eyes meeting hers rather than staring at the gaping hole in her face, his hands squeezed her shoulders warmly. “We can discuss any number of things, but...we need to know what our next steps should be, we need to rebuild so the people have a home and security...”

“They will never have true security, Zavala...this Red War should have made that obvious...We can erect walls as high as we dare, delve into the Earth’s crust as deep as we can endure...but, it will never be absolute security...The people of this city have thrived, survived beyond all odds even now. But if it were up to me, I’d put a weapon in all their hands and teach them, truly, how to defend as their great ancestors once could.” The Risen gestured to all that was in their sight, reaching to knock on Zavala’s chest plate, and wave her hand at Ikora’s data pad on her hip. “For all the technology and advancements you make, it still boils down to who has the bigger stick...”

Finally, in the warm glow of dawn a smile tugged at the good corner of Ezra’s mouth, her expression softening just a bit, “...I’ll not suffer a name of the past marred by undue accusations..”

“Can we call you...?” “No.” Ikora was quick to cut the Hunter off before he could say something stupid.

“Mardöll. From now on, you will call me by my real name...No titles, no honorifics...just Mardöll...” The tired way she spoke was laced with tentative cooperation, coupled with the rise of her hands, the way she gripped Zavala’s biceps with her blackened fingers, brought a smile to the Titan’s face. Letting go and easing from under his hands she gave Ikora a leery, accepting nod before she turned to face Cayde, scrutinizing him with narrowed eyes, “And what, pray tell, were you going to call me...?”

He laughed nervously, fondling the chains and trinkets hanging from her helm before remembering just what he held, handing it quickly back to her, “Well...ah, just know it wasn’t gonna be Late for Dinner....” Adjusting his hood and rubbing the back of his head, his other hand dropping to his stomach he chuckled again, “Speaking of food, what’s good today? I’m starving...”

Rolling her eyes she turned again to gaze at the sun. Sighing she pushed her fingers up under her glasses, rubbing her eyes a few seconds before gesturing for Rev to leave after stowing her helm. “...I’ll, come find you later...”

Again, before Cayde could say something to ruin the mood, Ikora grabbed his arm and dragged him with her, Zavala watched them leave, opting to linger a few more moments over the scene before him and Mardöll.

Silence spanned between them, nether saying anything for a long while before the Titan spoke, “You know the people will call you Speaker...as we may need to for official purposes...The Consensus won’t be pleased as a whole with you if you decide to accept...”

The Risen made no show of hiding the fact she spit on the ground at her feet, “Damn the Consensus and Damn New Monarchy. Ejecting Lysander* and the Concordat after Twilight Gap was folly at its finest and, from what I can recall, Future War Cult is on thin ice as far as fanaticism... If you really wish me to hold the position of Speaker, be prepared for me to challenge a lot of things and a lot of people for their views and stand points. I’ll not stand by and gaze from afar with gentle involvement ...not as the previous Speaker did...”

She didn’t speak her last words with disgust but rather with silent reverence for the man’s memory and the good things he did accomplish to ensure the longevity of humanity and those who sought refuge here. Zavala seemed to smile, nodding as he considered what she said, seeming pleased that the Risen appeared to be on board. “There, is quite a lot that has changed since you’ve been gone...I’d be happy to catch you up, when you’ve made up your mind on the whole thing, in the mean time, why not just enjoy the dawn of a new day..?”

“You, can stay if you wish...” He’d just started to turn away from the rising sun, her muttering giving him pause enough to appraise the meaning of what she said. Mardöll wasn’t looking at him, instead she’d removed her glasses to clean them, her fingers working a worn cloth over the glass carefully. “I, think I will...with your permission, Mardöll.” Zavala knew this was her first step on the path to healing from the past. By telling him he could remain gave him hope for the future, told him that while it may be slow going, the prospects and possibilities before them and the City had grown ten fold...

And so he stood, at the elbow of The Ram, watching the rays of sunlight illuminate the work ahead of them in the quiet dawning of the next Golden Age.

*Lysander in this case doesn’t refer to @smallladysavage (sorry, you know I <3 him though!) but rather refers to this one ~ https://www.destinypedia.com/Lysander

[snowqueen-68]

Showing up again today

Still freaking out after putting my work up yesterday. Just showing up can be really scary but I’m here again today, so here’s more...

“Ah yes, well I had to talk fast to outwit my slippery brother and his cronies, but I managed it.  In the end, my mother had to accept that if she did not do something about my brother then the responsibility for the destruction of all humankind would lie directly with her. That is not something she was willing to do. It’s why, you know, that when my brother and I had our falling out, she decreed the Game in the first place. If my brother and I were to confront each other directly…well, we would be two powerful titans striving against each other within the realm of the mortal. The destruction would be indescribable.” “I can imagine,” Alastair said, “and so to avoid such a tragedy the God Mother set up the Game, as you call it, that you and your brother are now engaged in?” “Yes,” the Master said, his wise face grim, “Perhaps not the perfect solution but certainly the safest – for Man and God both.” Alastair frowned, while familiar with the vast struggle being played out between the two brothers he was not privy to many of its finer details. “And so your brother received the penalty then, the penalty of banishment, the one we – you asked for?” “He did, though not for the length of time that we had hoped.” Alastair shrugged. “Well, you said yourself it was a long shot. But better something than nothing. How did it finally come about?” The Master imitated Alastair’s shrug. “In the end, the God Mother and the Council were forced to acknowledge that if my brother and his accomplices were allowed to win the Game because they had broken the rules because they had cheated then we, our side, would have open to us certain loopholes, shall we say, which we could manipulate and that would enable us to continue our struggle against the Darkness that is my brother’s natural state.” “And this is not a good thing, sir?” “Indeed, it is not, Alastair. A victory for my brother, no matter hollow, would still be impactful and devastating. I could not, would not ever agree to stand aside and let my brother win because he thought he’d been clever enough to break the rules, rules that he agreed to abide by when the Game was first created. Without the parameters of the Game without its beginning and its ending we, my brother and I would contend with each other down through all the ages, endlessly pitting against one another those, not of the chosen bloodlines, those not prepared for or capable of facing such confrontations. Eventually, these conflicts would bloom out of control and the result would be the same as if we had confronted each other directly.” Alastair could only stand and stare at that, reeling from the implied repercussions and though a dozen questions teemed through his mind he did not push for more details. His Master looked and sounded very tired and Alastair did not wish to add to his burden. So instead he asked, “What then, exactly, did your brother receive in the way of punishment and penalty? I would hope the Council was appropriately severe.” The Master chuckled, “So bloodthirsty Alastair?” “Indeed sir,” he said simply, “What occurred here today would require nothing less.” The Master’s expression turned sober, sorrowful as he once again glanced down at Sebastian and the impression in the grass where just moments ago Lily’s lifeless form had been. Alastair felt a stab of guilt as he wondered if his Master for all that he was determined to stand against his brother, like their mother, had a bit of a soft spot himself for his errant sibling. “So, what are we going to do sir?” He asked finally as the silence between them lengthened, “I assume you have a plan?” “I do, I do indeed,” the Master replied, his weariness fading a bit as he smiled at Alastair, “my brother and his men have been banished to their quarter of the City of the Heavens, not to be released until the day that Lily is returned to Earth. That, Alastair, at least gives us time to plan, to be ready.  And while my mother did decide to punish my brother, she was none too pleased with me. If we fail in our second chance my friend, we will not get another.” Alastair gave the Master a bleak look and the other man reached out to place the hand without the flame on Alastair’s shoulder. “We have not yet lost, today we have been given a chance to fight on, my friend,” he said, “there is still hope. A very great deal of it in fact. My brother’s wings have been clipped and we have much to do.” He spoke so bracingly, with such a great deal of confidence that Alastair felt his own flagging spirits rise and he nodded once in agreement. “Good man,” the Master said, giving his shoulder a squeeze before looking back down at the unmoving Sebastian. “Bring him, Alastair, I think he’s healed enough to move, at least I have done my best for the moment and we cannot remain here any longer. Even though my brother has been retained in the City of the Heavens we need to move quickly.  He has promised to behave, and our mother and the Council might believe him, but I do not. My brother’s reach is long, and even from his confinement in the Quarter of the Damned, he will be searching for Sebastian and Lily.” With that the Master turned and, holding out the palm that still held his little dancing light, he moved across the clearing towards the river, the one that Lily and Sebastian had crossed earlier that day in a desperate attempt to escape death, the river whose soft rushing could be heard clearly in the still silent glade. Bending, Alastair gently and effortlessly lifted the deeply slumbering Sebastian and moved quickly in the wake of his Master, the older man’s words giving him a sense of urgency. They did not slow or stop when they reached the river, the Master striding across it without hesitation, his feet never sinking beneath the undulating water, and Alastair was grateful that his master’s presence allowed him to keep his feet dry and above water as well. They entered the forest beyond and skirted through the tall trees, the Master moving purposefully and quickly as if he knew exactly where he was going. Alastair followed directly behind, without question; the light of the Master’s flame showing him the way. Finally, they stopped just a bit further on when the Master came to a halt in another clearing; one almost identical to the one they had just left, but bigger and in the shape of a nearly perfect circle.  A stream, possibly a branch of the river they had just crossed, flowed through the clearing, babbling and sparkling, and overhead the moon shone bright and full. “Perfect,” the older man said, “and we don’t even need any light.” He shook his hand and the flame went out, leaving them standing in silvery darkness. Then the Master pointed to a far curve of the clearing, close to the tree line. “Come, let us place him there, Alastair,” he said, striding over and indicating a spot several yards from the edge of the clearing. Alastair frowned but did as he was told advancing to stand next to his Master, meeting the older man’s eyes. “Here Master? I do not like to place him so low on the ground again after he has suffered so much.” The Master smiled at him with gentle approval. “It will only be momentary Alastair, then I promise that it will never have to happen again.” Reassured, Alastair placed the inert form of Sebastian on the still-warm grass. At least it was summer, he thought, and he did not have to place the poor man in the snow! After he’d made sure Sebastian was still breathing, Alastair stepped back to stand with his Master. “Together?” The older man asked, his eyebrows raising slightly in question, and Alastair nodded. “Together,” he agreed, though he had no idea what might be wanted from him. Shoulder to shoulder they faced the curve of the clearing and the body of Sebastian. The Master drew in several deep breaths and closing his eyes extended his arms out wide, palms turned upwards, his feet planted firmly beneath him. Alastair paused for a quick moment before doing the same, stilling his mind, opening to his surroundings, to his own strength and to the power of his Master next to him. Then he waited. At first, as the moment drew out and nothing happened Alastair thought that perhaps the Master had changed his mind, was having second thoughts about this particular location, which to Alastair’s way of thinking would make sense. This clearing seemed dangerously close to the scene of the ambush and murder. Though if he were being completely honest anywhere within the same universe seemed dangerously close at the moment. All he could do was trust his Master and whatever plan he might have. Then just as Alastair was going to open his eyes to see what was going on, the air stirred and he heard the Master’s soft whisper, not out loud or in any way externally audible but inside in his mind where he heard it as a stream of softly susserating energy instead of an actual voice. Alastair drew his awareness back inside himself and settled more firmly into his own center, opening his well of power and waiting patiently for the draw on his energy. It came slowly but not invasively, an invitation to join rather than an insistent command and he answered by putting his will behind the Master’s request, spooling out his power until it connected with the infinitely stronger stream of energy that belonged to the older man. Together they fed this energy out into the clearing, building brick by newly formed brick the Master’s vision. In his mind, Alastair watched as the Master’s creation, aided by their combined wills, coalesced; a long wooden structure with a tall stone tower that rose high to reach the trees, and that overlooked the forest and everything beyond. As it grew up from the ground the tower wrapped itself around Sebastian, raising him from his low place on the ground, hiding him from view and taking him up, up, up until he occupied the highest place in the clearing. The last thing to appear in the tower, in the very center of Sebastian’s room was a large four-poster bed that rose under the injured man, tucking him under a soft counterpane with the summer breezes coming in from the open bank of windows directly opposite the bed. As they opened their eyes, the Master turned to Alastair, “Will that do, Alastair?” he asked.