#ilya x yana

[writermuses]

Giftmas Request from @marimelwrites

Explanations under the ✂️

Tadgh x Maddie - He built Maddie a whole elven themed gazebo in the treeline of the field he's let be an overgrown meadow, the one he likes to ride out to and read. Now they have a little haven when they read out there. He's planning a comfy circular bed for the middle of it for comfort and totally not hankypanky reasons.

Solena x Ilya - As mentioned, they're finally taking that holiday trip to Veneto. All romantic dinners, good wine, driving fast on country roads, etc. He deserves the break and she wants to show him her favorite things.

Luca x Maddie - He got her a bunch of little treats, made her a nice dinner, wrote her a pretty song... but he also got a little elephant playing a piano tattoo that I kinda love the idea of her finding it on him on her own.

Jack x Caria - Girly boxing gear. He wants her to punch the next guy disrupting her workout in the junk, practice makes perfect. Also, he selfishly wants her in his gym more. What a conundrum.

Will x Emine - It's their second Christmas together and he's taking the women in his life to Disney next summer break.

Nathaniel x Diana - As mentioned, he's stealing her away for a belated Christmas celly at his Boston cottage. He's gotten her a bunch of books and they'll get cozy time to be stargazing precious romantics. He'll cook her dinners while she reads to him and Cosmo in her cute accent. He also made her a little pawprint ornament "from Cosmo"

Octavius x Cassandra - Not really a Christmas gift, but he did send her the files on the guy he killed that was stalking her and files on the guys he was working for. Nothing but a post it on them that said 'Stay Safe'

Resna x Jameson - She sent everyone a bottle of wine from her vineyard with local cheese and bread. His just happened to have a note that said 'Hope to see you soon'

Yana x Eren - It's tradition now, snackies and Christmas movies. No gifts, just cuddles. This year she did have matching jammies for them.

Matthias x the Cartwrights - He got them all new boards, Diana's is the only one he had a custom paint job on though because #favorite

Caleb x the Cartwrights - He gave everyone a Cartwright 2022 ornament. This year they're all gold.

Aubrianna x the Cartwrights - Little Brianna made everyone ornaments and Aless and Matt tried to help her with the painting bit but... they're pretty ugly. 🤣

[yana-of-the-arcana]

happy birthday ilya

[Julian x Apprentice (Yana)] Read on Ao3 something mostly sweet, just a touch bitter, for everyone’s favorite pisces

Though they’ve been working together for a few months, there’s still so much that Yana and Julian don’t know about each other.

There isn’t time to get to know each other when there’s a plague destroying the city.

There are the things they pick up in the quiet moments – his penchant for coffee, the tattoo on her hand, Brundle – but there are still large gaps that may never be filled. It’s easy to forget those exist, to forget that either of them had a life before they doomed themselves to saving a city on the brink of death.  

But then Yana is in his clinic, flipping through the calendar he keeps and jotting down the sectors of the city they’re scheduled to visit, and pauses, noticing a small circle around one of the dates. It’s negligible, but if being the doctor’s apprentice has taught her anything, it’s that the devil is in the details (and hopefully the cure as well). She stands, the calendar in hand as she walks to where Julian sits at his desk, marking up a diagram of the human body.

He’s always so focused, as though his own life depends on what he’s writing; one day, it might. She hesitates, watching him work for a moment and unable to keep from admiring how quickly and precisely his hands work, or the fire in his eyes.

Clearing her throat, she waits for him to look up before showing him the calendar. “Is there a reason this date is marked?”

Julian frowns, setting down his quill and taking the calendar from her hands. Then his eyes widen, and he looks at her with a stunned chuckle on his lips.

“That would be because it’s my birthday.”

They stare at each other for a moment, then back at the calendar. His words are heavy, a dreadful reminder that amidst the plague, there isn’t much room to celebrate life. Still, Yana offers him half of a smile, mumbling, “We should celebrate.”

She knows that they can’t, not properly at least. A day off is laughable when it feels like the world is ending.

“Maybe.” It’s the best answer he can offer, handing the calendar back with his own tired smile.

They’ve both been worn down over the months, and now she can see the damage that everything has wrought on his body and soul. Despite his drive to keep working, there’s a fog in his eyes and a heavy air surrounding him. It’s clear that even if she could convince him to take the day off, he wouldn’t be able to find much to celebrate, too weighed down by the albatross he’s made for himself.

Sensing his itch to get back to writing, she nods and walks back to her own desk, finishing up her notes on the calendar. The scratch of his quill against paper fills the air again, and it gives her a push to break the not-quite silence. “How would you normally celebrate?”

He pauses, turning slightly in his chair to catch her staring at him. She holds his gaze, and he clears his throat, tearing his eyes away and focusing on the floor as he thinks.  

There are few things that can distract Julian, but his new apprentice’s eyes are one of them.  

“Depends on how you would define ‘normal,’” he replies, smiling when he hears her chuckle. He looks up at her, adding with a few sweeping gestures, “I’ve done a fair bit of travel, and I can safely say there isn’t a birthday protocol for doctor apprenticeships, battlefield medics, or the plague.”

She nods, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “Fair enough.” With a tilt of her head, she examines him, an idea forming in her head as she asks, “How would you like to celebrate? In the absence of a battlefield or epidemic.”

He falters, the warmth that she’s radiating throwing him off for a moment. In the time that he’s known her, Julian can confidently say that Yana isn’t a very affectionate or sentimental person. However, in recent weeks he’s found more and more cracks in her façade, and they hint at something soft and delicate under a hardened exterior.

Realizing he’s still staring with an open mouth, he quickly pulls together an answer. “Some good wine, better music…Something simple.”

She raises a disbelieving brow. “Not something more dramatic?”

“I have half a mind to be offended.” He laughs at her bluntness, and she gives him a sheepish smile, a self-conscious blush forming on her tan cheeks. The color only serves to remind him that she’s been growing pale, that what light she had when she first came to him asking to be his apprentice has been dulled as the days drag on with little change.

As much as they enjoy the temporary comfort, they’re all too aware of the disaster unfolding in Vesuvia, and like the long shadow of the setting sun, it settles over them. Yana stands, beginning to button her coat as she mumbles, “I should start my rounds.”

It’s a burden to walk the streets of the city and take count of the infected houses at the end of each day, but it’s one that she’s lifted form his shoulders. Julian watches as she gathers her things, including her mask, which she carefully secures with the leather strap around her head.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he says, and she waves before heading out, closing the door behind her with a soft click, leaving him none the wiser to the plan formulating in her mind.

Another week passes, and he forgets the days so quickly that he thinks nothing when Yana is in the clinic early. He makes a passing comment about getting an early start, and she hums, quick to hide her face in her notes.

It’s another grueling day, and he loses himself in it again, barely stopping to eat, much less to notice his apprentice puttering around in the back room towards the end of the day.

“Julian?”

He pauses in his reading, looking up to see Yana watching him from the doorway, biting her lip. The air around her seems to vibrate with something, and he straightens. “Is everything all right?”

“Could you come check something?”

With little more than a sigh, he sets his book aside, standing and following her into the back room. He’s about to ask her what she’s trying to show him when he stops himself short, lips parted as she steps aside and reveals her surprise.

A few candles provide a warm glow to the usually cold backroom, small table now covered with a brilliant velvet cloth, and with a bottle of wine and two glasses atop it. As his eyes travel over the spread, they then flicker to her as she picks up a balalaika, tucked beneath the table, and makes quick work of tuning it, calloused fingers dancing along the strings.

He struggles to breathe for a moment, overwhelmed. “What is all this?”

With a deep breath, she looks up at him, and it’s the closest to human that either of them has felt in weeks.

“Happy birthday.”

She expects him to put up a fight, to mutter about time better spent and wasted daylight. Instead, he absorbs the scene before him for a moment longer, and then lets out a small chuckle. “You didn’t have to go through the trouble.”

“I wanted to,” she says simply, honestly, “You’ve been working nonstop – you deserve the break.”

And he decides in that moment, with the conviction in her eyes urging him on, that he does; she deserves it, too.

He finally steps forward, pouring them each a glass of wine as Yana sits, watching. Part of him wonders if getting him a red  was just a lucky guess, but the fact that she managed to find anything resembling wine in the city at this point is a miracle. When he’s sure both glasses are even, he hands her one and she lifts it in a toast. “To the birthday boy.”

They smile as their glasses touch with a small clink, each taking a generous, much needed drink. It’s far from the best wine that either of them had had (and it barely counts as even a good wine), but it’s more than enough as they sit and celebrate and try to ignore the destruction around them for a few hours.

“I think at this point I more than qualify as a man,” he drawls, taking another sip of wine as she goes back to fidgeting with the instrument in her hands.

There’s an impish spark in the dark blue of her eyes, one that threatens to ignite him. “No gray hair to show for it, though.” He laughs and she smiles down at the strings she plucks, stopping her idle strumming a moment later to lift her glass to her lips once more. “Any requests?”

It takes him a moment to register the question, blinking and realizing that her eyes have mesmerized him again. She raises a brow, something like a knowing smirk threatening to take over her face as a flush crawls up his neck. “You don’t happen to know any folk songs from Nevivon, do you?”

“Of course,” she scoffs, glass back on the table and hands back on the balalaika. Seeing the question on his face before he can ask it, she grins coyly. “You didn’t think you were the only one that’s traveled, did you?”

He shakes his head – they’re still strangers in a way.

He wonders if there’s time for that to change.

"I’ll be returning the favor for your birthday,” he promises, just as she begins to strum an old drinking song that stirs a nostalgia within him.

She only smiles, shaking her head with a soft laugh – her birthday is towards the end of the year, and there’s still so much that could change until then.

Neither of them knows that she won’t survive to see it.

And she starts singing an old drinking song that stirs a nostalgia within him. He joins in moments later, and they continue singing and laughing and whispering into the evening, long after the bottle of wine is empty.

[marimelwrites]

🥱 - Ilya x Sol 😍 - Maddie x Tadgh 🥴 - Eren x Yana 😔 - Azra x Vincent

From this Voicemail Meme here!

🥱 - Ilya x Sol - a sleepy voicemail:

--> [Voicemail left in Italian, minus his pet name for her.] Solnishko, I'm sorry that I've missed talking to you. I got held up. It's very late now, so I'm glad that you didn't answer. I would have felt very guilty for waking you up. I'm very tired now, but I still wanted to call to let you know that I did make it home so no need to worry since you didn't hear from me earlier. *Yawns* I'm much more tired than I even thought. Please give some scratches to Neto for me, and maybe a treat or two, but be sure to tell Neto they're from me... not from you. Artur is sniffing around the phone, so he says hello to you as well. I hope you sleep or slept well, and have a beautiful day. We will se each other very soon.

😍 - Maddie x Tadgh - a loving voicemail:

--> Hello, love. I'm just calling... well, because I had a feeling that I should call you. I know that we talked not too long ago, and I saw you only yesterday, and we texted each other earlier this morning, but... it felt important. So, I'm calling you know to let you know how much I care about you. And I hope that you're having a beautiful day today. It's lovely outside, and I want you to be outside enjoying those horses, and that open field, and maybe reading a good book. I should be done in a couple of hours. The animals here are loving the sun and warmth, at least most of them. I'm going to come by and see you once I'm off work, okay? Maybe, if you're in the mood, I can make us some pasta. I'm really in the mood for pasta. Would that be okay with you? Anyway, have a good day... and... and just know that I miss you, and that you're loved.

🥴 - Eren x Yana - a drunk voicemail:

--> Yaaaaanaaaa, why didn't you answer my call? Did I do something wrong? Again? I told you I'm terrible at relationships. I work too much. I do... stupid, stupid things. I never apologize, but I did apologize to you that one time. That was kind of a special situation. But are you mad now? Or did I just miss you. I mean, I miss you. But did I miss you? *snorts and laughs* Okay, I really should've cut myself off on drinks ages ago, but I had too many people buying me drinks. Why do people always try to hit on me? Is it because I'm hot? It's because I'm hot, isn't it. Are you in pajamas again? I bet you're in pajamas because that seems like a thing you'd do... lemme guess... Christmas patterns even though it's March? *muffled* What? Huh? *comes in clear again* Sorry, gotta go... don't be mad at me, I'm only stupid.

😔 - Azra x Vincent - a sad voicemail:

--> *sniffles* Vince? I... *clears throat and sniffles again* It's been really lonely since you've been gone. I don't... there aren't really a lot of... you know, people don't really pay a lot of attention to me. It's not a bad thing, it's just... I miss the fun stuff we used to do, you know? I... *small cry* I just miss you a lot right now. Did you know that today would've been our anniversary? I know... I know, it's stupid and... *voice sounds like she's trying not to cry* I just really miss you. I... okay... this... I shouldn't have called anyway. I really hope you're doing well where you are now. Maybe you've... you've met someone really nice and... and they make you happy? *sniffles* Anyway, I'm okay, really, I'm fine just feeling... *long pause* just feeling nostalgic. I'm sorry, bye.

[warmania]

Adobe x Keith Haring | Creativity For All from Bakehouse on Vimeo.

Client: Adobe Inc. Concept: Achtung!isobar Amsterdam Produced by: Bakehouse, Antfood Audio Studio Authorised by: Keith Haring Studio (Artestar NYC)

CREDITS

Client: Adobe Inc.

Daniel Cowles - Executive Creative Director Daniel Vargas Díaz - Creative Director Mark Valenta - Senior Creative Director Copy Pete Fishman - Senior Campaign Marketing Manager Sara O'Dea - Associate Creative Director Doug Beach - Senior Creative Director Mara Bey - Campaign Marketing Manager Farhana Rafi - Senior Marketing Manager

Agency: Isobar Amsterdam

Claire IJsbrandij - Senior Creative team instagram.com/ijsbrandij Tanya Ponomareva - Senior Creative team instagram.com/tanny.ponomareva Marc Elbers - Head of Production instagram.com/marc_elbers/ Jasper Janssen - Creative Director instagram.com/jasperjanssen/ Samyr Souen - Creative Director instagram.com/sousamsouen/ Mervyn ten Dam - Executive Creative Director instagram.com/mervynachtung/ Kika Douglas Castroviejo - Executive Creative Director instagram.com/kikadouglas/ Lorenzo Angelone - Motion Designer instagram.com/lorenzo.angelone/ Maksim Kuzin - Editor instagram.com/maksim.t.kuzin/ Annabelle Klop - Account Manager instagram.com/annabelleklop/ Maaike Stellink - Account Manager instagram.com/maaikeste

Production: Bakehouse

Dima Maseykin - Film director/Chief Illustrator instagram.com/daltonizm_/ Alya Lugovaya - Head of Production instagram.com/aleyaska/ Kostya Korobkin - Head of Production instagram.com/duffus/ Sophya Katulska - Executive Producer instagram.com/sollveig_k/ Mitya Katkin - Executive Creative Producer instagram.com/mityakatkin/ Nino Vasilkovskaya - Line Producer instagram.com/do_filtra/

Liza Chernyak - Illustrator instagram.com/cher_liza/ Nikita Selivanov - Illustrator instagram.com/kitos_04/ Aset Kairambayev - Illustrator instagram.com/nakedmazafaker/ Roman Novak - Illustrator instagram.com/nvk_foxhide/ Egor Afonin - Illustrator behance.net/egorafonin/

Pavel Nikiforov - Lead Animator Anastasiya Melikhova - Animator Vera Pozdeyeva - Animator Vadim Ivanov - Animator Egor Keon - Animator Lyudmila Skotnikova - Сolour-in artist Nadezhda Pshenichnikova - Сolour-in artist Alisa Andreyeva - Сolour-in artist Tatyana Petrova - Сolour-in artist Alina Khabarova - Сolour-in artist Darya Gavrilova - Сolour-in artist Ekaterina Tikhonova - Сolour-in artist Yury Tomilov - Digital-compositor Alexey Sazhin - Digital-compositor Alexander Kuznetsov (2A Pictures) - Digital-compositor Andrey Kiselev (2A Pictures) - Digital-compositor Oleg Koverchenko (2A Pictures) - Digital-compositor

Anton Reva - Сollage director instagram.com/savemymind/ Anatoly Shabalin - Сollage artist instagram.com/shabalin_anatoly/ Galina Kazimi - Сollage artist instagram.com/renard_oui/ Sasha Churganov - Сollage artist instagram.com/po.sox/

Vlad Yakunin - Senior editor Kirill Khandurin - Senior editor Nikita Potapov - Motion designer

Shepard Fairey - Guest Artist instagram.com/obeygiant/ Kate Moross - Guest Artist instagram.com/katemoross/ Nikita Kibirev - Guest Artist instagram.com/nikibirev/ Anatoly Vladimirovich instagram.com/subwwaymoscoww/ Zhenya Artemyev instagram.com/zhenyaartemjev/ Katya Oktyabr instagram.com/octbrkate/ Yana Bolotenkova instagram.com/bolotenkova.yana Oleg Guta instagram.com/gutaart/ Ilya Kutoboy instagram.com/kutoboy/ Sergey Kolesov instagram.com/peleng_square/

Brushes Page: creativecloud.adobe.com/discover/article/keith-haring

Making of film: vimeo.com/bakehouse/btsadobeandkeithharing

Campaign hashtag: #creativityforall

Tags: @Adobe Inc. Achtung!isobar Amsterdam achtung.nl/ facebook.com/136407646401784/ instagram.com/weareachtung

[lesterplatt]

Adobe x Keith Haring | Creativity For All from Sophya Katulska (Huzbasic) on Vimeo.

Client: Adobe Inc. Concept: Achtung!isobar Amsterdam Produced by: Bakehouse, Antfood Audio Studio Authorised by: Keith Haring Studio (Artestar NYC)

CREDITS

Client: Adobe Inc.

Daniel Cowles - Executive Creative Director Daniel Vargas Díaz - Creative Director Mark Valenta - Senior Creative Director Copy Pete Fishman - Senior Campaign Marketing Manager Sara O'Dea - Associate Creative Director Doug Beach - Senior Creative Director Mara Bey - Campaign Marketing Manager Farhana Rafi - Senior Marketing Manager

Agency: Isobar Amsterdam

Claire IJsbrandij - Senior Creative team instagram.com/ijsbrandij Tanya Ponomareva - Senior Creative team instagram.com/tanny.ponomareva Marc Elbers - Head of Production instagram.com/marc_elbers/ Jasper Janssen - Creative Director instagram.com/jasperjanssen/ Samyr Souen - Creative Director instagram.com/sousamsouen/ Mervyn ten Dam - Executive Creative Director instagram.com/mervynachtung/ Kika Douglas Castroviejo - Executive Creative Director instagram.com/kikadouglas/ Lorenzo Angelone - Motion Designer instagram.com/lorenzo.angelone/ Maksim Kuzin - Editor instagram.com/maksim.t.kuzin/ Annabelle Klop - Account Manager instagram.com/annabelleklop/ Maaike Stellink - Account Manager instagram.com/maaikeste

Production: Bakehouse

Dima Maseykin - Film director/Chief Illustrator instagram.com/daltonizm_/ Alya Lugovaya - Head of Production instagram.com/aleyaska/ Kostya Korobkin - Head of Production instagram.com/duffus/ Sophya Katulska - Executive Producer instagram.com/sollveig_k/ Mitya Katkin - Executive Creative Producer instagram.com/mityakatkin/

Liza Chernyak - Illustrator instagram.com/cher_liza/ Nikita Selivanov - Illustrator instagram.com/kitos_04/ Aset Kairambayev - Illustrator instagram.com/nakedmazafaker/ Roman Novak - Illustrator instagram.com/nvk_foxhide/ Egor Afonin - Illustrator behance.net/egorafonin/

Pavel Nikiforov - Lead Animator Anastasiya Melikhova - Animator Vera Pozdeyeva - Animator Vadim Ivanov - Animator Egor Keon - Animator Lyudmila Skotnikova - Сolour-in artist Nadezhda Pshenichnikova - Сolour-in artist Alisa Andreyeva - Сolour-in artist Tatyana Petrova - Сolour-in artist Alina Khabarova - Сolour-in artist Darya Gavrilova - Сolour-in artist Ekaterina Tikhonova - Сolour-in artist Yury Tomilov - Digital-compositor Alexey Sazhin - Digital-compositor Alexander Kuznetsov (2A Pictures) - Digital-compositor Andrey Kiselev (2A Pictures) - Digital-compositor Oleg Koverchenko (2A Pictures) - Digital-compositor

Anton Reva - Сollage director instagram.com/savemymind/ Anatoly Shabalin - Сollage artist instagram.com/shabalin_anatoly/ Galina Kazimi - Сollage artist instagram.com/renard_oui/ Sasha Churganov - Сollage artist instagram.com/po.sox/

Vlad Yakunin - Senior editor Kirill Khandurin - Senior editor Nikita Potapov - Motion designer

Shepard Fairey - Guest Artist instagram.com/obeygiant/ Kate Moross - Guest Artist instagram.com/katemoross/ Nikita Kibirev - Guest Artist instagram.com/nikibirev/ Anatoly Vladimirovich instagram.com/subwwaymoscoww/ Zhenya Artemyev instagram.com/zhenyaartemjev/ Katya Oktyabr instagram.com/octbrkate/ Yana Bolotenkova instagram.com/bolotenkova.yana Oleg Guta instagram.com/gutaart/ Ilya Kutoboy instagram.com/kutoboy/ Sergey Kolesov instagram.com/peleng_square/

Brushes Page: creativecloud.adobe.com/discover/article/keith-haring

Making of film: vimeo.com/bakehouse/btsadobeandkeithharing

Campaign hashtag: #creativityforall

Tags: @Adobe Inc. Achtung!isobar Amsterdam achtung.nl/ facebook.com/136407646401784/ instagram.com/weareachtung

[aboutanimation]

Adobe x Keith Haring | Creativity For All from dmitry maseykin on Vimeo.

Production: Bakehouse Moscow

Dima Maseykin - Film director/Chief Illustrator Alya Lugovaya - Head of Production Kostya Korobkin - Head of Production Sophya Katulska - Executive Producer Mitya Katkin - Creative Producer Liza Chernyak - Illustrator Nikita Selivanov - Illustrator Aset Kairambayev - Illustrator Roman Novak - Illustrator Egor Afonin - Illustrator Pavel Nikiforov - Lead Animator Anastasiya Melikhova - Animator Vera Pozdeyeva - Animator Vadim Ivanov - Animator Egor Keon - Animator Lyudmila Skotnikova - Сolour-in artist Nadezhda Pshenichnikova - Сolour-in artist Alisa Andreyeva - Сolour-in artist Tatyana Petrova - Сolour-in artist Alina Khabarova - Сolour-in artist Darya Gavrilova - Сolour-in artist Ekaterina Tikhonova - Сolour-in artist Yury Tomilov - Digital-compositor Alexey Sazhin - Digital-compositor Alexander Kuznetsov (2A Pictures) - Digital-compositor Andrey Kiselev (2A Pictures) - Digital-compositor Oleg Koverchenko (2A Pictures) - Digital-compositor Anton Reva - Сollage director Anatoly Shabalin - Сollage artist Galina Kazimi - Сollage artist Sasha Churganov -Сollage artist Vlad Yakunin - Senior editor Kirill Khandurin - Senior editor Nikita Potapov - Motion designer

Shepard Fairey - Guest Artist Kate Moross - Guest Artist Nikita Kibirev - Guest Artist Zhenya Artemyev - Guest Artist Katya Oktyabr - Guest Artist Yana Bolotenkova - Guest Artist Oleg Guta - Guest Artist Ilya Kutoboy - Guest Artist Sergey Kolesov - Guest Artist

Client: Adobe Inc.

Daniel Cowles - Executive Creative Director Daniel Vargas Díaz - Creative Director Mark Valenta - Senior Creative Director Copy Pete Fishman - Senior Campaign Marketing Manager Sara O'Dea - Associate Creative Director Doug Beach - Senior Creative Director Mara Bey - Campaign Marketing Manager Farhana Rafi - Senior Marketing Manager

Agency: Isobar Amsterdam

Claire IJsbrandij - Senior Creative team Tanya Ponomareva - Senior Creative team Marc Elbers - Head of Production Jasper Janssen - Creative Director Samyr Souen - Creative Director Mervyn ten Dam - Executive Creative Director Kika Douglas Castroviejo - Executive Creative Director Lorenzo Angelone - Motion Designer Maksim Kuzin - Editor Annabelle Klop - Account Manager Maaike Stellink - Account Manager

[nerdgeekfeelings]

Um breve passeio por Londres à companhia de Moore et al (sem o dedo mindinho esticado para chá, porque ele foi cortado)

“A vida secreta de Londres” foi como um tiro, um golpe de foice ou faca. Você pode escolher. A cada conto ou HQ, uma sucessão de pancadas de martelo na cabeça. Organizado por Oscar Zarate, publicado pela editora Veneta, a coletânea reúne Josh Appignanesi, Steve Bell, Dix, Stella Duffy, Jonathan Edwards, Carl Flint, Neil Gaiman, Melinda Gebbie, Graeme Gordon, Toni Grisoni, Chris Hogg, Stewart Home, Ilya, Garry Marshall, Dave Mackean, Alan Moore, Woodrow Phoenix, Warren Pleece, Alexei Sayle, Iain Sinclair, Yana Stajno, Carol Swain, Chris Webster, Oscar Zarate, que fazem das palavras e imagens, prego agudo e concreto seco. A antologia não salienta apenas a geografia londrina, mas espelha o imaginário emblemático traduzido na mente dos autores, resultado, creio eu, de décadas de urbanização intensiva.

Eis o mapa. Esta é a cidade perdida entre o senso materialista e psíquico. Onde qualquer percepção mística dobra-se ao desejo de qualquer homem rico o suficiente para não existir, e que anseia manter relações com um jovem pertencente ao lendário povo Shahinai. Nem mesmo a mágica, recorrente na escrita de Neil Gaiman, rompeu a máscara de Londres, mas delineou oportunamente o vazio que reside sob ela em A Corte (os personagens aparecem no conto Lembranças e Tesouros, de Coisas Frágeis).

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Entre as vinte e duas obras que compõem, não falarei das que mais gostei, mas das que me atingiram de modo mais violento. Aviso, porém, que daqui até o penúltimo parágrafo darei breves spoilers.

A segunda foi a HQ Congelado. Logo no início, a anatomia de personagens cabeçudos desenhados por Carl Flint me provocou estranhamento e riso. A história é sobre um rapaz chamado Alex que, a princípio, pretendia ser modelo para esculturas, e é induzido a fazer um serviço extra: beber muitos litros de água e produzir urina a mando da artista do ateliê para uma finalidade curiosa. Neste tempo em que os conceitos artísticos não têm mais o que transgredir, o conto denota efetivamente o que a alta arte moderna tem se tornado.

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A segunda obra é Dançando com a morte. Trata-se da história de Jason, rapaz solitário que trabalha como atendente em um bar. Espécie do já velho arquétipo heroico moderno de jovem viciado em drogas que deseja ser ouvido pelo mundo através da sua música. Seria aquela uma noite de sorte, quando encontrou uma garota no banheiro repleta de cicatrizes nos pulsos… Seria pura sorte, se, ao final, enquanto faziam sexo asfixiante em seu quarto, ele tivesse pagado a conta de luz, ao invés de usar uma vela para iluminar a casa.

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Em Come down town, HQ de Carol Swain, o detetive Lahr investiga uma série de vandalismos seriados praticados pelo que parece ser um artista revoltado, algo do gênero. O vândalo tem como alvo livrarias e pontos históricos que, aparentemente, ele julga promover arte elitista e superficial. Agindo como carrasco revolucionário, condena, sob o peso de seu elevado e anônimo arbítrio, toda aquela arte literária a ser encoberta pela tinta preta, censurando livros e nomes proibidos por sua vontade absoluta.

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O Corpo, HQ de Ilya, trata da história da obsessão de um médico legista por um cadáver hermafrodita encontrado boiando de bruços no Regent’s Canal. Pesado.

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A guerra de Penge foi o conto de que mais gostei. Trata-se da história de Pinkie, primo de Pieface, que aos doze anos roubava conteúdos da loja de sua mãe para construir uma maquete do Deserto Ocidental da Líbia em 1942. O propósito de tal empreitada não era mais que destruí-la. Tragicamente cômica e bem contada história.

A arte visual de que mais gostei foi a de Chris Hogg em Exibicionismo no Parque. A HQ é a breve cena de uma jovem que passeia com seus cães no parque quando é repentinamente abordada por um homem que se despe para ela. O final é bastante trivial, entretanto, inusitado.

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Há alguns contos de caráter mais expositivo do que narrativo, que tratam do panorama “geo-histórico” de Londres. Destaco aqui Highbury de Alan Moore e Centre Point, que escapam do gênero e estilos pelos quais ambos foram reconhecidos internacionalmente. Em suas breves crônicas, eles traçam os aspectos lúgubres das propriedades e residências, vielas escuras e construções, explorando fatos sem protagonistas tão importantes quanto a lápide de um Karl Marx, ou o fedor dos esgotos a subir pelos bueiros.

E se me perguntarem qual a história mais louca, eu diria, a bem da verdade, que não é bem uma história, mas a arte gráfica hermética, também feita com corte e colagem de fotos, chamada O ovo do Grifo, seguido pelo conto que julguei ser uma conclusão metalinguística de Iain Sinclair. Não ouso aqui interpretar algo além. Veja por si só. Creio que agradará aos entusiastas de HQs alternativas.

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Minha impressão foi que “A vida secreta de Londres” manteve sua unidade e proposta. É uma obra bastante diversificada. Acho que poderá servir de catálogo aos futuros leitores para degustar as principais impressões acerca do imaginário da urbanidade londrina do nosso tempo. De inusitado (e não surpreendente) achei o poema concreto O Museu da solidão, de Chris Petit. Já Capital do Crime, poema de Moore que finaliza a antologia, não posso dizer se achei entediante, mas não leria novamente, talvez por estar “mal acostumado” com sua notável HQ Do Inferno etc. etc.

Editora Veneta

Tradução: Alexandre Boide

Brochura

27,6 x 20,6 x 1,6 cm

176 páginas

Onde comprar:

Amazon

Cultura

Fnac

[QUADRINHOS] A Vida Secreta de Londres, de vários autores (resenha) Um breve passeio por Londres à companhia de Moore et al (sem o dedo mindinho esticado para chá, porque ele foi cortado)

[yana-of-the-arcana]

come what may

chapter 15: so much to say

[Julian x Fan Apprentice, Modern!AU] Read on Ao3

Just as he opens the closet door, her latest text comes through and there’s a knock on his door. Without another thought (including the fact that he’s about to answer his front door in nothing but boxers and a high school theater shirt) he goes and opens the door, phone still in hand and thoughts jumping to the worst possible conclusion.

She’s slumped against the wall, the hood of her coat up and her hands in her pockets.

He calls out quietly, a disbelieving whisper, “Yana?”

And when she looks up with a sheepish, dazed smile, his stomach drops at the sight.

A cut across her cheek, a busted bottom lip, and a black eye beginning to form.

She pushes herself off the wall, drawling, “Hey. S’late, I’m sorry, I -”

She trips over nothing, Julian managing to catch her by the shoulders. He gently ushers her inside his apartment, closing the door behind him as he rambles, “No it’s no problem at all – well, sort of a problem, the problem being that you’ve shown up at my door very drunk looking like you just got in a fight.”

“Not even drunk,” she mumbles, giving him the world’s slowest wink, “I’m barely tipsy, Ilyushka.” She takes a glance around his studio apartment, about to comment on something before he forces her to sit on the edge of his bed, and she emits a small groan, trying to rub at the back of her thigh. “That’s gonna hurt.”

Read the rest

[yana-of-the-arcana]

More nonsense with Yana and Julian, from the awkwardness of pining to a very special invitation...

[yana-of-the-arcana]

#16 for modern au!

It’s here.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14518293/chapters/38048264

It took a minute and we’re beginning to stumble along a plot, but it’s here

[yana-of-the-arcana]

just a scratch

Warning(s): Blood mention Pairings: Julian Devorak x Apprentice (Yana)

Summary: A medical student walks into a curio shop. The joke is how long these two idiots deny their feelings for each other. ((A Modern AU inspired by sentence starters / prompts.))

In which Julian's education comes in handy and Yana is way too chill.

"It's just a scratch."

Julian concernedly stares at the blood trickling down her forehead. "My definition of a 'scratch' and yours are vastly different." Without another word, he leads her by the shoulders, walking past the pile of tomes that fell on her and into the backroom. He sets her down on the couch and goes into the bathroom. "Is the towel in here clean?"

"Should be."

Yana hears the sink running but doesn't register much else as the shock of the shelf collapsing on her runs through her body. He walks back out with the white towel in hand, one end damp, and stops in front of her. "Are you okay to get blood on it?"

She gives him a lazy smile, trying to ignore the sensation of blood beginning to drip past her eyebrow. "Something tells me you're going to use it anyway."

He scowls, getting down on one knee and angling her face to clean the wound, careful not to apply too much force. His eyes focus in on the cut and sees that it's deeper than he originally thought.

As Julian silently examines the wound on her forehead, applying pressure with the towel to try and stop the bleeding, Yana tries not to fidget from all the attention. The reminder that he cares makes the ends of her nerves tingle with something thrilling. Still, she tries to will it away with a roll of her eyes. "You worry too much."

The expression he gives her is the sternest she's seen from him. "I don't care how tough you are, you can't ignore this and pretend it's fine," he scolds, brows furrowing when the bleeding doesn't seem to let up. He nods to himself in thought, concluding his mental examination. "Right, you need stitches."

"I can just put a band-aid on - "

"I'm taking you to the hospital before you can pass out from blood loss." He keeps one hand on the towel against her forehead, but holds out the other as he stands, helping her to her feet. She realizes there's no stopping him, and so she takes the towel from him and keeps applying pressure, her legs feeling wobbly and unstable as he leads her out of the shop. "Where's your bag?"

"Under the counter," she mumbles, leaning against the arch as he goes to find the old leather bag. When he does, she adds, "The keys to the shop are in the inside pocket."

He fishes them out and then shoulders her bag along with his, despite her protests that she can take hers from him. Without a word, he guides her out of the shop and onto the street, turning to lock the door before placing his arm on the small of her back and leading her to his parked car.

The drive to the hospital is fairly quiet as Julian tries not to voice his growing anxiety and Yana tries to grapple with the realization that she could really get used to Julian caring for her.

When they're stopped at a red light, he shakes his head, letting out a deep breath as he chuckles, "If I wasn't there, you seriously wouldn't have gone to the hospital."

"Because I'm fine."

He looks at her, incredibly unconvinced. "Has it stopped bleeding?"

She looks away, feeling a flush of being proven wrong crawling up her neck. "...No."

"Then you're not fine." The light turns green and his eyes are back on the road. He points to the ceiling with one hand as he teases, "See, this is why you befriend medical students. Magic can't heal everything."

"We're not having this conversation while I'm bleeding in your car."

"I'm just saying - "

"Ilya."

She does end up needing stitches, and Julian is absolutely smug about it the entire time.

Until the nurse makes the offhand comment of what a good boyfriend he is, and suddenly he gets incredibly quiet and incredibly red and it's Yana's turn to be smug.

[yana-of-the-arcana]

lucky to date you

Warning(s): None Pairings: Julian Devorak x Apprentice (Yana)

Summary: A medical student walks into a curio shop. The joke is how long these two idiots deny their feelings for each other. ((A Modern AU inspired by sentence starters / prompts.))

In which Yana looks nice and Julian feels things.

"So...How do I look?"

Spectacular. Gorgeous. Surreal. Beautiful.

Julian instead continues to stare with wide eyes, feeling his cheeks turning red of their own accord as he grips the textbook in his lap until his knuckles turn white.

His silence makes her fidget, and she twists and turns in the doorway of her bedroom, biting her lip. "If we were about to go on a date, what would you think?"

He'd think that the wrap dress hugs her hips incredibly well, the heels make her legs look miles long, and that the brilliant azure of the fabric brings out her eyes to the point that he might drown in them – have they always been that blue?

"You look good."

It's enough of an answer to calm her but he kicks himself for not managing to choke out anything better. She walks over to where he sits on her couch, stopping by the coffee table to grab a bite of the dinner she's made him.

"You're awfully dressed up." It's not that he minds (at all), but it's a stark contrast to how he usually sees her. Yana always looks put together, but she's also always comfortable, and she certainly never wears lipstick that has drawn his attention to her lips like this.

She shrugs, dropping the fork back onto the plate and straightening. "I mean, it's a date." Chewing her cheek, she amends with a smirk, "A blind date that your sister arranged, but still a date."

For some reason he has the urge to call up Portia and ask why she's done this. His stomach flips as Yana turns to go back to her bedroom, and he calls after her, "So what, you're going to dinner with a stranger?" The whole idea strikes him as ridiculous, and really, she should just stay at her place, with him, watering her plants and helping him study.

Her laugh echoes around the walls, and she steps out once more, one earring in and the other in her hands as she regards him with a raised brow. "That's what dating is. I know you're a med student, but don't tell me you've forgotten already." When she manages to successfully put in her earring, she walks over to the couch and plops down next to him with a sigh. He watches her lean forward, her eyes far away as she mumbles, "Though to be fair, I'm the one who's probably forgotten."

Now that he thinks about it, Julian can't remember Yana ever going on a single date since he's known her. His chest tightens at the looks of melancholy passing through her expression, but he still can't deny the sour taste in his mouth.

She tucks her legs under her and leans back into the couch, body tilted towards him as she wonders out loud, "Maybe I should just flake. Call the whole thing off. I already made dinner, after all."

She did, and it was incredibly nice of her. He'd shown up at her shop and the wide-eyed look of panic and guilt on her face nearly made him laugh out loud. When she explained that she forgot she had a date and would have to cancel their typical dinner plans, the urge to laugh quickly disappeared. Still, she insisted that she'd cook for him and that he could even stay at her apartment to study.

A strange bloom of pride swells in his chest when he considers that she'd so willingly go out of her way for him, and so quickly cancel on whoever this shmuck is.

But the pitiful look in her eyes forces him to give her a smirk. "Don't tell me you scared of a blind date, Yanina."

"Mostly just nervous."

He wonders if she gets nervous around him but wipes the thought from his mind – these aren't the things that a good friend thinks. Scanning his mind, he tries to find a way to calm her nerves, and nearly smiles at the thought. He sets his textbook on the couch and stands, turning to her with a grand sweep of his arms that makes her raise a brow at his antics.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

Her eyes widen and her cheeks flush. "I don't know, shall you?"

Getting down on one knee, he places a hand on his chest and the other with its palm up to the ceiling in the most dramatic pose he can muster while he stares deeply into her eyes with puckered lips and exaggerated adoration. "Thou are more lovely and more temperate – rough winds do shake the buds of May, and summer's lease hath all too short a date." Her laugh lights up the room and he takes it as a sign to continue, absolutely beaming. "But thy eternal summer shall not fade!"

"That's enough," she chuckles, shaking her head as she leans forward to pat his head with a smirk. "You really have that memorized, Ilyushka."

He shrugs, but it does nothing to wipe the proud smile off his face; nothing can when he's succeeded in making her laugh. "I skipped most of it."

"You've made your point."

"I just don't think you have any reason to be nervous," he tells her simply, sitting back on the couch and realizing he's sat just a hair too close. Their knees touch, but he forces himself to keep his eyes on hers as his voice dips into something lower and softer than either of them expect. "I mean, anyone would be lucky to date you."

If she wasn't blushing before, there's no denying, even by him, that her ears and cheeks are beginning to color themselves with red. His do the same as he realizes the extent of his words, but before he can even try to take it back she's standing up, clearing her throat and doing her best to dispel the moment. "Well thank you for the pep talk, Shakespeare." She hurries back to her bedroom, coming out with her bag and rushing to the door as she rambles, "I better head out if I don't want to be late."

"Right, of course, have fun." He stands, realizes standing is stupid to do so since she's about to leave, but it's too late for him to sit back down.

Yana opens the door and turns, the sight of him in her living room forcing her to stop. The last of the sunset casts him in a brilliantly warm glow, his gray eyes reflecting it and his auburn hair nearly on fire. He stands awkwardly but not out of place, half of his shirt untucked, a look on his face that she can't decipher. She bites her cheek, a thousand thoughts flitting across her mind, but she settles on the simplest one. "You still have your spare key, right?"

Julian nods. "I can lock up behind myself. I won't be staying too long." He covers up his disappointment with a garish smile, chiding, "Now get out and have fun already."

She knows how to cover her own conflicting feelings with a smile, too. "I'll see you tomorrow."

The door clicks shut behind her, and it stabs him deep in the chest, just above his heart.

The date is lackluster and Yana laments about it to him the very next day, deciding that as much as she loves Portia, she won't be trusting her taste in dates again anytime soon.

Julian pretends he isn't completely relieved.

So does Yana.

[yana-of-the-arcana]

terrible

Warning(s): Slight coarse language because Yana is a hooligan Pairing: Julian Devorak x Apprentice (Yana)

Summary: A medical student walks into a curio shop. The joke is how long these two idiots deny their feelings for each other. ((A Modern AU inspired by sentence starters / prompts.))

In which Julian is suffering, a.k.a. a medical student.

"Holy shit you look terrible."

He tries to give her a roguish grin but it barely comes out as a smile past the exhaustion. "What, can you see it in my aura?"

"I can see it on your face." She smirks, watching him walk from the doorway of the shop to his chair by the window, dropping his bag along the way.

Yana's used to seeing him tired – it comes with the territory of medical school, as he's explained. Still, the bags under Julian's eyes seem heavier, his entire posture is slumped unevenly, and there's a dark cloud seeming to hang over him. She opens her mouth to ask how many cups of coffee he's had today but thinks better of it because she knows the number will be terrifyingly high.

Julian runs a hand through his hair, though it does nothing to tame it. She bites back a giggle at the sight of his bedhead as gets up from her seat behind the counter. "Your rotation stressing you out?"

"Just need to read up on a lot more than I thought." He yawns, long and loud, as she perches herself on the windowsill next to him, bundles of lavender and rosemary hanging around her and framing her form. With a small, reassuring smile he tells her, "It's nothing I can't handle."

There's no denying how exhausted he looks, though. She chews her bottom lip as she studies him, not particularly liking how worn down he seems. "You still need to take care of yourself."

He waves her off but another yawn cuts off whatever retort he had prepared. It deepens her frown and she slides off the windowsill, simply grabbing his wrist and leading him towards the back. He stumbles at her sharp tug and is grateful that she keeps her eyes ahead and doesn't see the blush creeping up his neck. "W-well, an impromptu tour of the store?"

"There's a couch in the back, and I'm sure there's a blanket somewhere." She glances back at him as they round the counter, her eyes firm as she says, "You're going to take a nap, and I'll order food for us when you wake up."

"Really, Yana, I'm - "

"It's not a negotiation, Ilya."

The stern tone catches him off guard, and if his face wasn't enflamed in a brilliant flush before, it's now bordering on scarlet. She pushes the curtain aside and they go through the arch into the backroom of the store. He's been in here a handful of times in the past, but never for more than a minute and usually just to grab something for Yana. It's as he remembers, but as she lets go of his wrist and opens a chest of fabric in search of a blanket for him, he can take in more of the details. It fits the rest of the shop, with its dark wood and the smell of incense and lavender seeming to emanate from the very walls, and there is in fact a couch amongst the shelves and chests of various trinkets.

When Yana finds a suitable blanket, something soft and burgundy, she turns to look at him still glancing around the backroom (he's actually searching for the safe, out of curiosity). "Sit," she orders, pointing at the faded blue couch, and he does as she says with a meek nod. He makes himself comfortable, which proves a slight challenge as the couch doesn't quite fit his tall frame.

She can't help but laugh at his struggle, shaking her head as she hands him the blanket. "Sorry it isn't ideal."

"It's fine," he mumbles, taking the blanket and draping it over his legs and chest. He looks up at her with a frown. "This really isn't necessary."

"I know." The smile she gives him is warm and ignites a fire deep within his chest. She isn't sure what comes over her, but the sight of him so weak and curled up on the couch brings her to ruffle his hair with a playful smirk. "But you're too busy trying to take care of others. For once, let me take care of you."

Without thinking, she leans down and places a delicate kiss on his hairline. It steals his breath and leaves him watching her with pink cheeks and wide eyes as she walks out of the backroom.

"I'll wake you when the food gets here."

He tries to respond but it comes out as a strangled hum. His heartbeat hammers blood into his ears, and he's feeling lightheaded and disoriented for entirely different reasons now. I'm tired, he reasons as he stares up at the ceiling, a hand to his forehead, tracing the spot where her lips touched him. I just need to get some sleep.

When Yana takes her seat again behind the counter, about to pull out her phone to order from their favorite Thai restaurant, she stops, feeling her body freeze with the realization of what she's done.

I kissed him.

On the forehead and for barely a second, but the thought invades her mind and refuses to release her heart as it leaps into her throat. With a groan she drops her head into her hands, feeling horrible heat invade her face and wondering how she's going to be able to face him when he wakes up. With any luck, maybe he'll slip into a coma and they'll never have to acknowledge what just happened.

He doesn't slip into a coma, and she wakes him with bags of Thai food in her hands.

They still don't acknowledge what happened, but there's no denying they're a little more quiet than usual as they eat on the couch.

Probably just because they're tired.

[yana-of-the-arcana]

not the worst

Warning(s): None but Lucio gets dunked on Pairings: Julian Devorak x Apprentice (Yana) Additional Character(s): Lucio

Summary: A medical student walks into a curio shop. The joke is how long these two idiots deny their feelings for each other. ((A Modern AU inspired by sentence starters / prompts.))

In which Julian and Yana make a debatably great mistake.

"This is surprisingly not the worst thing we've done. This is like, maybe halfway up the list."

Yana shushes him with a finger to his lips, though she has to bite down rather hard on her bottom lip to keep her own laughter from escaping. Her other hand holds the now empty pot, and she desperately wants to take another look at the poor shmuck they accidentally doused in her failed potion.

It had been Julian's idea but technically Yana's fault. When she realized the possible dangers of pouring the foul-smelling concoction down the drain, Julian suggested she simply toss it off her balcony. Originally, she agreed, but once they were actually on the balcony she had second thoughts, and what started as a playful argument between the two turned into Yana accidentally spilling the potion.

All over the obnoxious blond man in an expensive suit who happened to be passing by on the sidewalk below.

Julian and Yana look at each other, trying their hardest not to burst into laughter as they listen to the man five stories below rant and rave at no one in particular, demanding his assailant reveal themselves and threatening the unknown entity with his dry-cleaning bill.

"If you come out now, maybe I'll spare you the lawsuit!"

She has to bite her hand to keep from laughing, eyes on Julian as he covers his mouth with his hand to muffle his chuckling. They listen to him go on for another few minutes, throwing in his last name and the name of his very successful company that absolutely has the money to destroy whoever doused him in the unidentifiable purple-gray liquid.

When his footsteps and complaining finally fade into the distance, the pair hiding behind the balcony fence burst into laughter, leaning on each other for support as tears fill their eyes and their stomachs begin to hurt. Yana sets down the pot and sits back on the floor, wiping at her eyes, and watching Julian shake his head as he settles next to her, leaning on the stone wall that serves as her railing.

He gives her a trademark grin. "You're absolutely getting evicted."

"Worth it." She snickers, running a hand through her hair as she mutters, "That guy sounds like a real prick."

"He looked like it, too," Julian agrees, remembering the slicked blond hair and gaudy suit.

Yana smirks, putting on a haughty expression as she places a hand over her heart, chiding in a nasally voice, "I'll have you know this suit is Versace and it is a travesty that it's been ruined."

They burst into a new round of laughter, and she can no longer hold herself up and falls slowly onto her back, both hands on her stomach. He's in a pretty similar state, head falling back softly on the wall as he howls. When he manages to get the brunt of the laughs out, he looks at her with a scrunched nose and shriveled expression as he uses the same nasally voice, "How dare you do this to me, I have a trust fund!"

"My father will sue your father!"

As the sun begins to set, their laughter dies down. Yana watches the sky transition to a soothing mixture of pinks and oranges. She doesn't notice Julian's eyes on her, or the faint smile he wears as he sits and watches her and wonders what kind of luck he must have to have ended up here.

She sits up with a pleased sigh, resting her arms on her knees as she looks at him with a coy smirk. "This might have been one of the best things we've done, actually."

And with her smiling at him like this, he's tempted to agree.

Out of boredom, Julian decides to look up the company that man kept shouting about being the CEO of. They both pale when they realize he wasn't kidding about his net worth and possible connections.

But then Yana makes fun of his voice again and they decide it was still worth it.

[yana-of-the-arcana]

The Spy Who “Married” Me

Chapter 5: The Confession

Character(s): Julian Devorak x Apprentice (Yana) Warning(s): None

Summary: It was supposed to be a straightforward, simple mission. But as Yana has come to find out, things are rarely straightforward or simple with Julian Devorak.

The good news is that it's not a rowdy bar.

The bad news is that it's a rowdy tavern.

Still, Yana doesn't seem too upset by it, rolling her eyes when they enter but otherwise more than willing to slide into a corner booth with him. Her eyes roam the place, noting that the general atmosphere of debauchery seems subdued, considering it's midday. An old drunkard slumps at the bar with an empty stein, but besides them the other patrons seem giddy with their drinks and roaring at their stories. Julian visibly brightens, smiling roguishly. "It's been too long since I last came here. Now these are my people." He slides into the booth after her, gauging Yana's reaction as he asks, "Are they yours?"

She notes his less than subtle attempt to get to know her and has a feeling she knows where he wants to steer this conversation. With a shrug, she responds simply, "They used to be."

"What happened?"

"The Arcana." She keeps her voice low, not entirely sure who may be listening. Julian nods, and she feels her chest tighten when he opens his mouth to say more, probably another probing question (her least favorite kind), but a barmaid comes up to their table and saves her.

Once their orders are squared away, Julian moves just an inch closer, his eyes scanning the crowd for any eavesdroppers before turning his full attention to her, asking in a low voice, "What's been bothering you?"

She blinks, realizing that she's made herself obvious but wanting to deny it for as long as possible. "I'm tired. It's exhausting having to be your wife, you know."

"Well then we need to find a way to fix that before dinner, when the Count gets suspicious that my loving wife doesn’t seem so in love with me." He watches her cringe at the second half of the statement, breaking eye contact to instead study the wood grain of the table with an irritated frown. For as long as he's known the agent, he's never seen Yana so visibly upset around him – she usually wears an irritated expression or a poker face that he can never quite crack. It softens his face and voice without him being aware, and he keeps himself from putting a hand on her shoulder as he soothes, "That's not what this is really about though, is it?"

The barmaid places their steins of beer down with a loud thud, startling the pair out of their moment. They each take a long drink, but Yana can feel Julian's eyes on her as she continues to avoid his gaze. When she sets the stein back down on the table, her fingers drum along the edge, keeping in pace with her thoughts. All of them surround that horrible but unidentifiable feeling that consumed her at breakfast. Sitting next to him now, though, the realization becomes clear.

"I'm not used to it."

She says it quietly and almost with a note of guilt, as if she's revealing her darkest secrets to him. As far as she's concerned, she might as well be, and some part of her is screaming at her mouth to stop revealing vulnerability to Julian Devorak of all people.

But when she looks up at his face, his brows are furrowed in concern and there's nothing but compassion there for her. It steals her breath and her fingers stop drumming. She clears her throat to start again, feeling her neck and face growing warm as she continues explaining, "I just...I'm not an affectionate person. I'm not surrounded by affectionate people. Never have been. It's not – you can't just start acting so loving towards me without me reacting to it. And you of all people, someone who I've never gotten along with and have never worked with before, acting like this is just..." She trails off, realizing that she's subtly moved herself closer to him during her rant and he's breaths away. The proximity ignites his cheeks and hers as well, so she distances herself once more and finishes lamely before taking a long drink from her stein, "I'm just not used to feeling so adored."

His heart clenches, especially when he realizes that she has no idea how heartbreaking it sounds. Besides her embarrassment at having to talk about her feelings, she seems rather matter-of-fact about the whole thing. He clears his throat, trying to figure out how to comfort her (someone who would probably rather die than admit they need it). "I'm sorry that this is all so sudden, then."

"You're just doing your job. I'll get over it."

"I can help." She gives him a wary look and he laughs. "We're partners, Yana. That's what I'm supposed to do. Let me be useful."

They stare at each other for a long moment, neither of them saying anything as the air between them slowly becomes lighter, something in Yana shifting as she returns his smile with a playful smirk. "Just lighten up on the sweet nothings. I'm your wife, not your savior."

"Easy enough," he says, taking a drink of his stein to punctuate his point. His brows furrow once more as he asks, genuine concern coating every syllable, "Am I touching you too much? I could do less."

She thinks back on it, and while at first it certainly threw her for a loop just how hands-on Julian is, she doesn't particularly mind it. If anything, it's almost nice (purely because it instinctually feels like she's safer, and certainly not because of anything else). "So long as you don't have sweaty hands I don't care."

They share a chuckle and their food is brought out, both of them focusing on eating in silence for a few minutes. It's not particularly good, but it's cozy and feels like home in an odd way to Yana, and so she eats with a small smile on her face. At the very least, it's nice to have a meal where she doesn't have to perform as Julian's demure wife.

Julian eats a little slower, still processing their conversation and several of her words reverberating in his head.

I'm not surrounded by affectionate people.

Never have been.

His eyes go to the mark on her right hand. The black ink is a simple design of a circle, a dot in the center and a crescent moon outlining the left side. Five points, like a star, peek behind the center design. He remembers someone mentioning she's a Fallen Star after he started at the Arcana – not quite human, but not exactly supernatural, as it was explained to him – and he figured that the celestial design was just a part of that. The way her features twisted with a bad memory when the servant brought it up, however, has him curious about it all over again.

As she reaches the end of her stew, sitting back with a content look, he decides now's as good a chance as any to try his luck. "So there's a story behind that mark, huh?"

She stiffens, subconsciously withdrawing her right hand under the table. He can practically feel her withdrawing once more, but he's not about to give up so easily. "I seem to recall something about 'escape'?" He waggles his brows and grins when it succeeds in making her chuckle and relax back into the booth once more. "It seems I'm not the only one with some dashing stories of heroism."

"It's a sad story," she corrects him, crossing her arms with a melancholic sigh. "And I'm no hero in it." She bites her lip, not in the mood to delve into any of this when they're still just starting to get along, but when she looks at Julian his intense gaze lets her know that she's not off the hook so easily. "You'll hear about it tomorrow night, anyway. When the servants leave I'll tell you the details I changed."

Julian nods, at least a little satisfied with the promise as he takes another drink from his stein. "Can I at least know what it is?"

Surprisingly, she doesn't avoid his eye, instead facing him straight on with a hardened face. "It's essentially a slave brand."

He chokes on his beer. She smirks, watching him wipe at his mouth and his eye widen as he looks at her in a new light.

Just when he has a plethora of new questions cropping up in his mind, she doesn't give him the chance to ask any of them, instead redirecting the conversation to a question she's had this morning when she woke up and realize he went to sleep with his eyepatch still on. "What happened to your eye?"

As much as he might want to push further with his investigation of her, Julian knows when to cut his losses (and can't resist the chance to tell a story). "I'm sure you've heard through the grapevine that I've had my fair share of jaunts with pirates?"

"Hard not to when you're the one loudly saying it every day at the base." He gives her an unimpressed deadpan, and she laughs into her stein, realizing that while she's pushed his buttons before, she never truly considered how fun it can be. When she finishes her drink, she mumbles, "But yes, I've heard. From field medic to pirate doctor to everything in between."

Including nearly dead when he was brought to the Arcana. She remembers it beginning like any other day, with her training at the base and anticipating Asra's return from a secret mission. Except he didn't return alone, and Julian's body was covered in blood and bruises that left Yana wondering just what happened. To this day, she still doesn't know the details, but she's heard bits and scraps of it from his own ramblings and from other agents – something about a mission gone wrong and an impromptu curse.

"Well I have a relic from my days traveling with pirates."

"Can I see it?"

He blinks, surprised at her genuine curiosity, before he wipes it away with a mischievous smirk. "I don't see why not." As he lifts the eyepatch, he feels himself growing slightly self-conscious under her stare, but her lips fall in awe as she gingerly reaches towards the scarred blind eye with her fingers before pulling back. Still, she doesn't seem to realize how close to him she is, and he doesn't say anything about it, instead placing the eyepatch back in place and fixing her with a smirk.

"Now, let me tell you how I learned to never negotiate with a deaf pirate captain in the middle of a raid."

And she has a feeling that most of it won't be true, but something within Yana keeps her quiet, listening to him speak and watching the way his eyes light up and feeling that horrible hollow feeling start to be filled with something warm and pleasant.

[yana-of-the-arcana]

poison in the kitchen

Warning(s): None Pairing: Julian Devorak x Apprentice (Yana)

Summary: A medical student walks into a curio shop. The joke is how long two idiots deny their feelings for each other. ((A Modern AU composed of sentence starters / prompts.))

In which Yana has a weird job.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Julian has gotten used to hearing Yana say rather outlandish remarks far too nonchalantly, but this one takes the cake by far.

She takes another sip of her tea, sitting behind the counter and watching him as he slumps in his customary chair in the curio shop, right in the window and surrounded by drying herbs hanging from the ceiling. He's just gotten off his shift at his latest residency, and as became their custom he immediately went to her shop so the two could get dinner together.

They decided that they'd rather cook than eat out, and Yana's casual explanation of why they can't use her kitchen is what's currently leaving Julian gaping.

She repeats herself slowly. "We can't go to my place since I'm making poison in the kitchen."

He stares at her, but she doesn't break. "You're...you're serious."

"Incredibly so."

"What do you need poison for?"

"It's not for me, it's for a customer."

"And the question still stands, what do they need poison for?"  

She chews her cheek for a moment. "Poison might not be the right word. It's a potion meant to give someone bad luck." Yana shrugs, a smirk tugging at one corner of her lips as she explains, "Mostly it just smells awful in my apartment right now."

He mutters something that sounds suspiciously like 'unbelievable' and Yana hides her grin by finishing the last of her tea, setting the mug down on the old mahogany counter. Julian runs a hand through his hair, crossing his foot over his knee as he looks at her with a lopsided grin. "It's a wonder you haven't been evicted yet."

"I'm not the one who nearly burnt down an entire building."

"No one ever told me you aren't supposed to put metal in the microwave!" Her laugh fuels his scowl, though it can never last for long when he sees her smile.

"You're the dumbest medical student I know," she teases, voice full of warmth and eyes betraying her growing fondness for the young man. If he keeps visiting her shop, she has a feeling his charm is going to win her over completely (as if it hasn't already).

He laughs, giving her a smarmy smirk. "And you're the rudest shop keep I know."

She shrugs with a smile, standing from her seat behind the counter and stretching her arms above her head, hearing a satisfying crack in her back. "Well, if we're going to eat anytime soon then we better start closing up shop."

While Yana takes out her keys to lock up the cabinets and display cases, Julian remains seated, watching her with a raised brow. "We?" he parrots with feigned indignance, though the scowl she gives him when she stops next to his chair triggers a chuckle at her expense.

"Yes we, now get up and help me." She gives his leg a playful kick and turns to begin her closing ritual, knowing that as much as he might argue now, within minutes he'll be up and mopping up the floors for her. It's strange to think that the medical student stumbling into her shop asking to see her ex two years ago is now a constant presence – one she doesn't want to get rid of any time soon (or maybe any time ever).

Julian watches her locking glass display cases of ingredients and crystals, taking out the more expensive ones to lock in the safe she keeps hidden in the back of the shop. "Technically I'm a customer."

"Then why haven't you bought a single thing?" She finishes up, the keys in her hands and several jars and silk bags in her arms as she levels him with a smirk. As she walks back towards the counter, she explains with the tone of a scolding mother, "You've been coming in here for nearly two years to study, chat, or disparage magic, and I haven't kicked you out." Before she can exit to the back through the curtained arch, and before he can come up with some excuse, she turns and quips, "And you have the audacity to call me rude."

He watches her disappear into the back, trying to come up with a retort. Something within him is giggling madly at the exchange, but he does his best to keep his face constrained to a grin; she doesn't need to know how much he looks forward to seeing her. When she comes back out from the back, carrying a mop and bucket with her, he straightens in the chair, puffing out his chest. "You know, I was just about to buy something but now I can't – out of principle."

Yana rolls her eyes, stopping in front of him and holding out the mop and bucket. "If you help, I'll make blini for dessert," she bargains, only to laugh a moment later at the childish twinkle and awe that overtakes his face.

"Have I ever told you you're the most generous woman I know?" The smile and wink he gives her as he stands and takes the cleaning supplies from her might be perceived as flirtatious by an outsider. Julian prefers to kid himself and label it as platonic, and Yana is content to remain delusional and chalk it up to his personality.

(Still, he's lingering for a hair too long and a hair too close for just a friend.)

She flicks his nose and returns his wink. "And I don't believe you for a second."

Their laughter fills the shop as she goes to continue her routine and he goes to start mopping up in the back. While he walks, he steals a glance at her to see her small form at the counter once more, going through the register and concentrating on counting while biting her bottom lip. His chest aches at the sight, for a reason he won't let himself comprehend, and he sighs under his breath, "I wish you would."

He doesn't think she hears him.

She does.

She spends the rest of the time avoiding his eyes and trying to hide her blush, and Julian is none the wiser.

A/N: In these troubling times I just wanted to write something self-indulgent and domestic with these two. Feel free to send in prompts for me!