#then we made one too many mistakes in our hard song and our director stops us. in the middle of a full Tun with a bunch of middle schoolers

[lexalovesbooks]

Tomorrow/Friday is the anniversary of one of the weirdest days of my life, yippee!

[thedistrictsleepsalonetonight]

Folk Songs (Weiss Schnee builds a home in the aftermath)

She asks Winter if she ever wonders why Atlas is named the way it is. Surely, naming a floating city after someone who was almost always pinned to the ground by the weight of the world would have been a mistake. Icarus, she muses, if it were up to her, she would have named it Icarus.

(Icarus flew and Icarus fell. Icarus, a slave to his own ambitions)

“Is that who you feel like?” Winter asks. “Atlas?”

It’s an honest question put to someone who has spent significant time carrying the family name around, by someone who handed it over when she grew too tall for it. Weiss shrugs.

“It’s not that deep,” she says.

Winter responds to that by patting her back. “Isn’t it, though?” she says, pushing a hand so Weiss straightens her posture. Weiss is sure the movement is unconscious, instinctual. Then Winter moves her hand to adjust the collar of the shirt she’s wearing, and lets her hand rest on Weiss’ shoulder for the rest of the conversation. Neither of them mentions it.

*****

She’s sitting at the piano when Ruby plops down next to her. “Teach me,” Ruby says, hitting a couple of disjointed notes.

Weiss, who is prone to losing her bearings when Ruby is near, plays a couple of notes in response. It’s supposed to be a tiny jingle, but she messes it up.

“I can’t play very well,” she, who has been trained to play the piano, the cello, and the violin since the age of five, says without a pause. Then she balls up her fists, because what she meant to say instead is — I can’t play very well when you’re around. Actually, I can’t do a lot of things very well when you’re around, Ruby.

(Blake and Yang need to come up with their combined manual on love soon. And when they do, she hopes there will be a section titled How to talk to girls you’ve kissed and sworn eternal devotion to but because there was a war going on neither of you ever sat down to define your relationship and now you don’t know what to do with your hands when she’s near. It can be a long section; she doesn’t mind as long as it gives her clear instructions.)

Ruby presses at a note. “What’s this?”

“An F.”

Another one. “This?”

“Either a C sharp or a D flat.”

Ruby stares hard at the piano, and Weiss entertains the crazy thought of kissing her frown away. She’s done it before — on sleepless nights, on ravaged battlefields, as a mark of comfort and of quiet, painful adoration. It’s damning how easy it is to bend to Ruby; every cell in her body calls out a primordial cry for her. How could she, mountain of carefully sculpted indifference, bow this effortlessly to fire?

(Her father, if she deigned to give him the time of day, would probably mutter something about how she’s a disgrace to the Schnee name, and she would disagree. What she feels in her heart for Ruby is nothing short of a miracle.)

“Here,” she says, pressing the notes in order, slowly so she’s sure Ruby can follow. “If you want to play a basic chord, you could just hold down C, E, and G notes together. That’s C major.”

“Like this?”

“No, that’s….to the right. No, not that,” she pauses, brings up her own hand to press over Ruby’s and guide her. It isn’t until Weiss glances up once and sees the mischievous smile on her face that she realizes.

“Oh!” she says, her hands retreating to her lap.

“I’m sorry if I—“, Ruby starts, sounding guilty, and Weiss turns to her, quick as a whip.

“No!” she says, then realizes they’re both almost nose to nose. “Don’t — don’t be sorry, please.”

“Did you not like that?” Ruby asks, her voice soft.

Weiss laughs, and the sound seems nervous to her own ears. “No, I,” she says, “I liked it.”

Ruby’s answering smile is sunlight through her windows in the morning, gradual in its brightness until it’s too much to bear. Weiss shifts, rests her forehead on Ruby’s shirt clad shoulder. The fabric smells a little like detergent and a lot like Ruby’s fruity perfume.

“You know,” she says, her voice half muffled by the shirt. She knows Ruby can hear her though. “I can never look you right in the eye when I talk to you. It feels — feels too much like burning up.”

Ruby shakes: Weiss can almost see her laughing. “Do you know how you can never look me right in the eye when you talk to me? That’s when I get to stare at you. You talk and talk and I just keep looking at your pretty face.”

The sound that comes out of her throat at Ruby’s halting admission is a mixture of acute embarrassment, disbelief, and delight.

“I used to wait two hours for you to come back from your missions with Blake and Nora so we could eat together.”

She feels Ruby press a kiss to her temple. “I used to stay up until 2 am because that was the only time I could be alone with you.”

“I can’t sit next to you,” Weiss tells her, “it’s like there’s this thing between our arms — this—”

“—electricity,” Ruby completes, and slides her fingers through Weiss. Weiss closes her eyes from her very comfortable position and feels Ruby’s lips on her knuckles, soft, careful. When Ruby removes her hand, she feels the loss as acutely as something has been ripped out of her soul. Another random note rings out in the silence.

“Go out on a date with me.” Nowhere in the statement is a demand, or a presumption, just quiet assurance. “Weiss,” Ruby says, when she still doesn’t answer. “Go out on a date with me, please.”

Weiss nudges aside the collar of her shirt and kisses her neck. Then she leans back to look at Ruby.

“What if you don’t like me after we go on the date?”

The question is delivered with just enough amusement, but behind it lies real distress. What if this only works because we’ve been thrown together all these years fighting a weary battle? What if you only think you like me because you haven’t seen the rest of me yet? What if, when you see the rest of the world and start spending time with other people, you realize I’m not up to all that you’ve built up in your head?

“If I don’t like you after we go on that date, then you have my blessing to blast me into space with your Arma Gigas.”

“Ruby—”

“In what world,” Ruby cuts in smoothly, “do you imagine I wouldn’t like you back? In what world does my stomach not twist when you walk into the room, or my breathing not falter when you talk? I have heard a million voices in my lifetime, Weiss, but in what world is yours not the only one I want my heart to cut itself on?”

“Stop,” she says, face burning, eyes closed, “Ruby, you — just, stop talking, I’m going to—”

“Weiss,” Ruby says. “Go out on a date with me.”

Not that the answer is needed, but Weiss nods anyways.

*****

Whitley is equal parts familiar and foreign. There’s the same bristling stance, the Schnee stamp prominent upon his features, his hair, still parted the same side as she would see back when they were children running around in their estate. What’s different is the thinly veiled animosity in his eyes, the angry twist to his mouth.

“You can’t just come in here,” he starts, waving a hand to wipe away the holographic design for SDC office headquarters Weiss has just pulled up, “and start ordering me around.”

“Whit,” she says, watching as he flinches at the old nickname. “I’m not ordering you around. I couldn’t. You’re the expert here—”

“—yeah, I am. The heir who stayed, remember?”

She is reminded, of a game of hide and seek on a Sunday a long time ago. Whitley had hidden himself so well that Weiss couldn’t find him even after wandering all around the estate. And then when Winter had come back from training, she’d abandoned the pursuit, running off to interrogate her sister instead.

You didn’t find me, Whitley had come running, crying after ten minutes, distraught. You and Winter, and — he’d paused to take in a wet shuddering breath too big for his ten-year-old body — you and Winter forgot about me. And she’d known, even then, that what he was protesting was being left alone when they were together.

“I do know a little bit of this, Whit,” she says, mildly. “I can help.”

“I don’t need your help!” he tells her, sharply.

“I’m sure you don’t,” Weiss says, “but we’re the last of Schnees, if you don’t count mom, and we should stick together. I’m not saying I know everything, but I have been training half my life for this, so I could contribute.”

“I’d rather,” he starts, then cuts off abruptly. I’d rather die, she completes in her head, and waits patiently for him to continue. He looks away. “So much for sticking together.”

She reaches out and pats the top of his head. He swivels away violently.

“You — stop, you, you don’t get to do that.”

“Actually, I do,” she replies smoothly, “I happen to be one of your sisters. Not historically a very good one, but I’m what you’ve got, so you’re going to have to make do.”

When Whitley speaks, every time Whitley speaks, all she hears is his ten-year-old version screaming You left me at her, upset and sulking. While Winter made sure Weiss was able to defend herself if she wasn’t around to do that for her, when opportunity to leave Atlas had arisen, Weiss herself had run off, too relieved about the freedom to worry too much about her brother.

He glares at her. “I’m guessing you’ll want something?” he says, flippantly. “The position of the CFO? A seat in the Board of Directors, maybe?”

“Not exactly,” she says, smiling as she messes up his hair one last time before she exits the room. “Dinner every Tuesday and Saturday evening. 7 pm. I’ll see you in two days.”

“Wha — what?” she hears him ask from behind. “What are you — no! I’m not doing…. Weiss!”

*****

When Weiss goes to pick Ruby up for their date, she’s greeted by the entirety of Mantle and Atlas instead.

“We’re not that many people, please,” Blake says, before she joins Yang at the door. “Oh. Oh wow.”

“Do I — does this look, okay?” Weiss asks, smoothing the front of her dress nervously. She didn’t quite trust Jaune’s choice in dresses, but this was what Oscar, Robyn and Winter had collectively agreed on: a midnight blue slinky…. thing that didn’t quite reach her knees and was making her feel very awkward.

Yang’s jaw is still open, her head moving back and forth between Blake and her. Blake closes it for her.

“Okay?” Nora calls out, as Weiss enters the house further. “Girl, if Ruby doesn’t get down on her knees at the end of the night, I’ll give away all of my wealth to the good children of Mantle.”

“Nora!” you say, scandalized, the same time that Yang screams Ew.

“What? I didn’t mean it that way,” she says. “But don’t you think it’s interesting how both of you jumped to….”

Ren covers her mouth with his hand, smiles wryly at the rest of them.

“Also,” Emerald points out, poking her head out from behind the fridge. “Doesn’t Nora have like, five lien to her name?”

And that will not go to the good children of Mantle tonight, comes through in the muffled voice of a still incapacitated Nora. Weiss walks around the room, trying to calm her nerves. She doesn’t want to walk too fast and sweat through, or rip something, but there’s this electric charge festering under her skin everywhere, and no amount of balling up and releasing her own fists seems to help. She tries to take a deep breath, discovers her lungs aren’t ready for it yet.

“Hey,” Blake’s already at her side, one hand gently resting on her abdomen, the other on her back. “Breathe. Breathe with me, Weiss.”

She focuses on Blake’s steady voice, on the numbers she counts out, and slowly her breathing evens out. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”

“Please,” Yang says easily, “you should’ve seen Blake after I kissed her the first time. She nearly passed out.”

“That’s because you weren’t wearing clothes!” Blake shoots back, defensively.

“Oh yeah,” Yang says, staring off into space. “Wait, why wasn’t I wearing clothes?”

“Can I just say,” Ren said, looking pained, “how much I do not want to hear this story.”

“I’m okay now,” Weiss says. “Also, why aren’t you guys helping Ruby get ready?”

“You think I need help getting ready?” Ruby’s voice rings out from behind her, and Weiss turns, and

(Had she just thought that she was okay? Because she’d never been more wrong in her life.)

The sight of Ruby, standing near the door rips the breath from her lungs so fast she’s left reeling. It imprints itself upon her memory, a postcard polaroid for the end of all her days, and Weiss wonders where to look. Surely she’s not allowed to look at Ruby directly — isn’t it illegal to look upon angels? She wants to shield her eye, hide her face, wants to turn and run away because she’s sure there’s a world out there where she’s worthy of holding Ruby’s hand and walk beside her, but this can’t be it.

“What?” she says, stupidly, when she realizes Ruby had asked her something but for the life of her can’t remember what it was.

“I — nothing,” Ruby says, walking forward. “Weiss. You look….”

She trails off into silence, until Emerald says — Yo, can I get in on that bet you were talking about earlier — and gets shushed loudly.

(Weiss wants to warn her against it. She’s convinced she’s going to be the one getting down on her knees and proposing marriage at the end of the evening)

*****

Life moves on. Weiss holds Ruby’s hands in hers, and watches autumn turn to winter. Whitley smiles at her on their fifth dinner date, and then, to make up for it, turns down all her proposals for the next two. Sun and Neptune come to visit, and Yang spends the entire time doing pushups ominously in full view of both Blake and Sun, to the former’s amusement and the latter’s bemusement. Oscar goes on his first date with a girl from Mantle, and discovers at the end of the night that Jaune, Ren, Nora and Emerald had been following them the entire time. Qrow makes a half-hearted attempt at warning her of the consequences of breaking Ruby’s heart, and when Whitley and Winter discover that, they kidnap Ruby for half a day. Ruby refuses to tell her what happened, but she also refuses to kiss her in public the whole next week.

Weiss decides to move out of the Schnee estate when she finds a tiny apartment in Mantle, a building over from where Blake, Yang and Ruby have theirs. There’s a lot of light and her favorite spot in the entire place is a corner where the previous family had marked the heights of their three children, apparently named Lee, August and Celia. Ruby draws a line next to it, names it Weiss’ patience level for the day and marks it at random points, depending on her mood. Her mother gifts her flower plants, and subsequently, vases, when Jaune breaks the few that Weiss already had.

The first night, when they’re all exhausted from the multiple trips up and down the stairs and are all crashed in the living room, Ruby finds her outside on the balcony. Weiss knows as soon as she enters through the door — Ruby’s presence carries trough the air — but she only looks back when there’s a red cloak wrapped around her from behind. She feels familiar arms wrap across her stomach and leans back.

“Miss home?”

“This is home now,” Weiss replies, and is surprised to find that the thought does make her a little sad, regardless. “But yes, I do.”

She’s going to miss living with Whitley and her mother, will miss sleepovers when Winter comes down to visit. All the loneliness in the world wrapped up in one large house, and it still stings to leave it behind.

“You know, I heard Robyn’s place isn’t too far from here,” Ruby says. “And if Robyn isn’t far, then—”

“—Winter isn’t too far.”

“—and Whitley and Oscar are already planning a video game session here next Friday.”

Weiss arches back, and kisses Ruby on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“Whatever for, my darling?”

“For,” she flounders for an explanation that sounds normal. Thank you for loving me, while accurate, isn’t a very healthy sentiment to express, “for keeping me warm, always.”

Ruby chuckles against her cheek. “Okay.”

“And Ruby?” she asks. “I know this is the first time I’ve moved out on my own, and I need to build my own life here, and I will. But. In a while — maybe….”

Ruby hums to let her know she’s waiting.

“I’m just saying, that there’s. I mean — I’ve left half my closet empty. So, if, in a while, you ever want to. I just want you to know that I want to build a life with you.”

“Weiss Schnee,” Ruby says, and even with her eyes closed Weiss can hear the smile in her words. “If in a while, you want to share your closet space with me, then it would be my greatest honor.”

*****

She knows Ruby’s up even before she’s completely conscious.

It’s the little things — the fact that Ruby’s arm isn’t weighing on her shoulder, that her leg isn’t slung over her thighs. Weiss blinks, and turns over in bed, concerned.

Ruby stares back at her, wide-eyed.

“Can’t sleep?” Weiss whispers.

Ruby shakes her head slowly. There’s something in her expression that has Weiss worried. It’s not that she thinks they’re in any danger at the moment, but there’s some unsettling thought going on behind those beautiful eyes.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you watch that movie,” she says, but Ruby shakes her head once again. “What? No ghosts scaring you?”

Ruby opens her mouth, clears her throat once. “Only the human kind,” she says.

“Hey,” Weiss asks, bringing up a hand to brush the hair off her forehead, “sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Does this still bother you?” Ruby asks her in return, her hand sliding under Weiss’ shirt to expose the scar Cinder had left behind when she had impaled her. Weiss looks down, struggles to make out the tiny line in the dark. She wants to ask another question, but at this rate they’ll be stuck in an eternal loop and she does want Ruby to get some sleep, because she tends to lose her appetite if she doesn’t.

“Sometimes,” she says. Then she smoothens out a tiny crease that’s formed between Ruby’s eyebrows. “You want to tell me what you’re thinking?

“I didn’t see her do it,” Ruby starts, after a while. “Cinder, I mean. I only turned when you fell and I. Weiss.”

“Ruby,” she says, pressing her forehead against Ruby, kissing her once. “Stop.”

“—no, I. And then I left to fight. I left you with Jaune and Ren and Nora, but I still left, and every day I think about it, every single day, I think about you lying on the ground, the blood spreading on your dress, and if Jaune hadn’t been there—”

“—but Jaune was there!” Weiss tells her, not knowing what to say to make it better. Ruby is in so much distress; her voice is in shreds, and there’s a tear making its way across her face. “I’m fine. I’m safe.”

“I’d have killed her,” Ruby says, simply, her voice raw. “I would have killed her. I should have.”

“Ruby, no.”

“If you’d — if something had happened to you,” Ruby says, pausing, frustrated. Her eyes are closed tight, more tears squeezing out of them by the second, and Weiss tips forward to kiss one away. I’m safe, she says. You’re safe. We’re all safe. Ruby, Ruby, Ruby. We’re safe, she says, as she kisses her temple, her rumpled up hair, the bridge of her nose, and she has no idea how or when her words turn into I love yous in her mouth. I love you, Ruby, she repeats over and over, wanting to imprint the words on Ruby’s skin, wanting to tattoo her kisses on her cheek so the mark never fades, so she’ll never forget, I love you so much. And it’s easy in the thin light of the moon, to pull out the words from where she’s been hiding them, keeping them safe her entire life. There’s a moon in the sky and Weiss loves Ruby. There’s a garden blooming in the balcony and Weiss loves Ruby. For as much as love threatens to bring about her end, Weiss loves Ruby, and that love is both the beginning and the never-ending middle to her story.

*****

Tell me about what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, Ruby asks her, laughing, one morning over breakfast, and Weiss tells her there is destruction, but also that love is born in the carnage.

“Our hearts are but collateral damage, my love,” Weiss says. “But my heart, regardless of the damage it bears, is yours to do with as you please.”

*****

Robyn builds a school in Mantle.

No, that comes later. This comes first: Weiss grows tired of sitting in an office. She loves Whitley, but if she has to design one more plan, or take one more call talking to people about dust, she will kill herself.

Actually, wait. That comes second. This is what comes first.

Weiss grows tired of fighting.

*****

“My name,” she says, knowing from the whispering going on in the rows, that the information she is about to share is redundant anyway, but formalities are important, “is Weiss Schnee, and in this class we will be learning Grimm Studies.”

She’s pretty sure she hears someone whisper Hero of Mantle somewhere in the back rows, but ignores it, in favor of writing a couple things on the board. She jots down the curriculum and a brief lesson plan, acutely conscious of whether the clothes she’d had Ruby pick out for her this morning were appropriate class attire. The tie with dogs on it wasn’t something she could have helped, anyway, since she’d lost a bet with Emerald a while back. After she’s done, she turns around and asks the class if they have any questions.

“I have one,” comes a voice from the door, and Weiss closes her eyes. Of course. Of course they would come. “Miss. Schnee,” Yang continues, jumping on top of a desk in front of what seems to be a very impressed student, “when will the kids be divided into teams?”

There’s a lot more pointing, whispering and an abundance of awed looks going on in the class now.  

“That is not something the students need to be worried about right now,” she answers, evenly.

“Actually, jumping off of Yang’s very astute question,” Jaune chimes in, “will each team also have a leader?”

She’s going to kill them she’s going to kill them she’s going to kill them

“Yes,” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Awesome!” Blake adds, brightly. “But, in the event that they do not like their leader, and think their leader is an incompetent idiot, what can they do?”

Nora and Ren titter from their place at the very back. And from where she’s sitting between them, feet kicked up onto her desk, as casual as she had been all those years ago at Beacon, Ruby smiles, and raises her hand.

“I’d like to know the answer to that myself,” Ruby says.

She takes in a deep breath, summons the Arma Gigas. Has him sit just behind her.

“Now,” she says in what’s her best attempt at authority, “not only will I not be answering any of those questions, but also, unfortunately, question time is over for the entire class. If that thing I have summoned behind me is scaring you, please do not worry, I will make sure it only stands up when one of the six idiots sitting amongst you say something stupid.”

“Okay so,” she says, then takes it all in. Thinks back to years and years ago, when she’d been one of the students sitting in a similar classroom in an academy, miles away, next to people who’d end up meaning more to her than she ever imagined. After all the years of fighting and bleeding, here they were, trying to do something to make the world a better place.

This is not a tale that ends in tragedy, she thinks, and starts talking.

[keanureevesisbae]

The alluring charm of Henry Cavill - Chapter 11

Summary: Over a cup of coffee, the two try to clear the air between them, but is Adelaide ready to forgive Henry after what he has done to her?

Henry Cavill x Adelaide Park (ofc)

Wordcount: 3k

Warnings: None

A/N: Today is my birthday, so I decided to bless you guys with a new chapter 🥰 I hope you enjoy and i love to read your thoughts about it. Next chapter is the Epilogue and then it’s all over 😭🥺

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Epilogue

The second the door of the limo closes behind me, I let out a deep sigh. Oh no, oh no, oh no, I think to myself. What happened out there? I didn’t expect to see Henry. I watched him on the screen since he was nominated for best actor and when he won, I couldn’t tear my eyes off of him. Thankfully I was hidden pretty well behind Brad Pitt, so Henry couldn’t see me, however: I could still see him.

He looked so handsome in his black velvet suit, his curls smoothed out and hearing him thanking his family and the director, made me me realize how much I missed him. Over the  last couple of months, I’ve been keeping myself busy with filming, touring for the movie and doing tons of interviews with David. Since I was around my best friend so much, I barely had time to think about Henry and my heartbreak.

Yes, I saw pictures of him on my Instagram explore page. Yes, I saw his statement. Yes, I saw him nearly murdering the interviewer with his eyes when my name was mentioned.

However I didn’t let that get to my head. I skillfully managed to push my feelings aside about the issue and decided to simply realize that it was screen Henry. A Henry Cavill far far away from me.

But now he was right here. I could reach out with my hand and touch him. I wanted to, really. To touch his beautiful face, to feel his strong hands on my cheeks and his lips against mine. I realized how much I was yearning for his touch.

‘You okay?’ David asks me, causing me to snap out of my thoughts about Henry.

I quickly nod. ‘Mhm, I’m okay,’ I tell him, but I don’t even believe it myself. I’m not okay. I feel like crying or jumping out of the limo to rush back and hug Henry and kiss him.

However, I’m still remembering the hurtful words. Henry Cavill betrayed me on television for the world to see.  

‘Are you sure?’ David pushes.

I let out a deep sigh. ‘It just felt so familiar, you know?’ I admit, knowing that David will drag it out of me, one way or another. ‘Talking to Henry… I thought it would be awkward and terrible, but it felt so right.’

He chuckles. ‘I could see in your eyes that you still like him a lot and this only confirmed my suspicions: you miss him like crazy.’

‘Shut up, David,’ I mumble.

‘Am I right?’

Yes. ‘No, it’s been months. I’m so over him.’

‘Such a liar,’ he laughs, as the limo drives off. ‘Just a question: aren’t you being a little too hard on him?’

I scoff. ‘Is this some sort of bro code I’m not aware of? He talked shit about me behind my back and the entire world found out about it, the same way and time I did.’

‘Easy there, tiger,’ David says, leaning back in his seat. ‘He did keep his end of the bargain. He never spoke about you, he wrote a statement that was very considerate towards you and from the looks of it: he misses you a lot.’

I shake my head. ‘He doesn’t.’

‘I can recognize the look of love from anywhere, Park. That man still loves you like crazy.’

‘He loves me?’ I can’t help but laugh out of utter disbelieve. ‘For fuck’s sake, David, we had a tiny thing we rushed into.’

He ignores my statement. ‘You sound awfully defensive. If this was just a tiny thing you two rushed into, tell me one thing: why are you even meeting with him?’

‘I do not sound defensive,’ I say to him, only confirming I actually did and still do. ‘He wanted to talk about this and I kinda agreed.’ I look to my side, only to see David already looking at me. ‘I want to clear the air between us.’

David nods. ‘I know you do.’

And for some weird reason, I feel tears building up in my eyes. A sniffle leaves my lips, followed by many more. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Oh no,’ he says in a soothing tone. He scoots over and wraps his arms around my upper body. ‘It’s okay, Adelaide.’

‘I don’t even know why I’m crying.’

‘I do,’ he says, placing his chin on top of my head. ‘You miss him more than you want to admit. I saw the way your face turned pale when you would come across a picture of him. I saw you watching the trailer for his newest movie. Besides, you are not as mad at him as you want people to think, because if you were, you wouldn’t have agreed on talking to him at the afterparty, let alone meeting for coffee tomorrow.’

I simply nod, because this is the absolute truth. David knows me even better than I know myself and my motives. ‘You are right.’

‘Of course I am,’ David chuckles. ‘Adelaide, remember: whatever choice you make, it’ll be a good one and you don’t have to decide what you’ll do right there and then. You can think about it and I know for a fact that Henry will respect that. From the looks of it, he only wants what is best for you.’

I hate it when he is right. ‘I’m scared, David.’

‘I know you are and that is totally allowed.’ He cradles my face in his hand and wipes away some tears. ‘I can come with you if you want. Maybe that gives you the extra support you need.’

That doesn’t sound like a bad idea. ‘I want you to,’ I whisper.

‘Then I’ll go with you. And if you want me gone, just say so and I’ll move my ass. Or if I think I should go, I’ll go.’ He flashes me a smile and asks: ‘Remember what I told you when we started filming?’

I chuckle, before I nod. ‘You and I, we’re in this together.’

He pulls me back in a tight hug and I melt against his broad frame. ‘I’m your friend, Adelaide. Remember that.’

‘I will,’ I whisper, closing my eyes, already dreading tomorrow.

◎ ◎ ◎

I have missed Henry over these couple of months. I have been angry, I have been mad, of course, however… David is right: I don’t want to be mad at him anymore and if I’m being honest: I’m not. He made a terrible mistake, but he did keep his end of the bargain.

After I peeled off the white dress and got myself ready for the night, I crawl underneath the covers with my laptop open. I look up a new compilation of me and Henry during the Celebrity Project made by fans. It actually has the song ‘I Should’ve Told You’ by Fiji Blue, the same song I sang to Henry.

My eyes fill up with tears, as I see the memories flash by. Our first meeting. Our first swim. Me visibly growing more comfortable with him. The kiss on my leg, our real kiss on camera…

I’m dragged into the black hole of these types of compilations and this only confirms David’s suspicions, but it also reveals my true feelings about the entire situation. I close the laptop and let out a big sigh.

My phone start to ring and I look at my screen, only to discover a message from Henry.

Henry Cavill: Hi Adelaide, you know the Griddle?

I wipe away the leftover tears off my cheeks. I miss him. I miss him so much.

Adelaide: Yes, I do.

Henry Cavill: Want to meet there at 4?

Adelaide: Of course.

Adelaide: Henry, I’m a little nervous, so do you mind if I bring David with me?

Henry Cavill: No, of course not. Please bring him with you, if that helps you. I don’t mind.

Adelaide: Okay, good. See you tomorrow.

Henry Cavill: See you tomorrow.

◎ ◎ ◎

David squeezes my shoulder as we walk towards the Griddle Cafe. ‘I’d advise you to breath, Park,’ he says. ‘You don’t want to pass out on the both of us.’

‘Shut the fuck up.’

‘No need for hostility,’ he says, as he places his hand in the back of my neck. ‘You’ve got this. I guarantee.’

I look over to the side. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘Just really nervous.’

‘Do you want me to tell you an inappropriate joke or…?’

I can’t help but laugh. ‘Not necessary, thank you. Otherwise that will be all I think about probably.’

‘Well,’ he says, ‘at least you’re smiling again and a smile is a better look on you than a frown.’

I already see Henry sitting at a table and I stop walking. He looks so approachable, with his long sleeved shirt and his curls loose. From the looks of it, he is nervous well. He has his hands folded together and I can see him deeply exhaling from where I’m standing. ‘Walk ahead,’ I say to David. ‘I just have to think about this. Alone.’

David nods and walks off the table. He holds out his hand and shakes Henry’s, before sitting down. He starts a conversation, so effortlessly. When Henry looks over, I turn around so I don’t have to look at him yet. I shake my head as I nearly pull out all my hairs.

I missed him so much, I think to myself. I tried to get over him, but when I’m being real and honest with myself: I am simply not. Especially not after watching those clips. Maybe David was right: maybe we still love each other.

After a deep breath and some calming thoughts, I walk towards the table and Henry, the ever so gentleman, stands up. ‘Adelaide,’ he says. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi,’ I whisper. ‘Please, sit down.’

He waits when I’m seated before he does the same and a waiter walks to our table. We order our drinks and I straighten my back. I look at Henry. ‘What did you want to talk about?’

He lets out a sigh of relief, glad I’m starting the conversation. ‘I just wanted you to know how sorry I am.’

‘Henry, I already now that,’ I say.

‘Please,’ he says in a hoarse tone, ‘let me explain.’

I simply nod, because he sounds so desperate.

Henry clears his throat. ‘You were right that night,’ he says, ‘I should’ve told you about my earlier feelings towards you, when I told you I was falling in love with you. It’s not fair that I kept that from you, especially since you were opening up to me.’

‘Did you mean it?’ I ask. ‘That you were actually falling in love with me?’

He places his underarms on the table. ‘I did,’ he whispers. ‘Of course I meant it. You made me forget about everything that was ever bothering, you are the only one that makes me feel like I’m loved and understood. You gave me trust I wasn’t supposed to earn and yet I violated you.’

I look up from my hands and stare in his beautiful eyes. ‘Henry, it’s okay.’

‘No, it’s not,’ he tells me. ‘Adelaide, you were completely honest with me and opening up to me, while I wasn’t transparant.’

‘Why not?’

He swallows hard, his Adams apple bobbing up and down. ‘Because I didn’t think it would matter. I thought you would never find out. I mean, it was a private conversation.’

‘Well, you couldn’t help it,’ I whisper. ‘You didn’t know it was being recorded. It was indeed a private conversation.’

Henry rubs his face and laughs out of disbelieve. ‘Why are you so understanding?’

I don’t even know what to say. Why am I understanding? Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do when he is pouring out his heart like this?

David smiles. ‘Because she has a heart of gold.’

‘I don’t,’ I say.

David and Henry look at each other with a knowing look.

‘Henry,’ I say, ‘I’m not mad at you anymore. I haven’t really been mad at you. Okay, wait, I was mad for quite some time, because you did violated my trust. However, I can’t stay mad at you. You did gave me something amazing and that was the feeling of opening up to people. I open up to more people and it affects my relationships with people around me, in a positive way.’

My best friend nods. ‘Because of you, man.’ David looks at Henry and sends him a reassuring smile. The waiter brings us our drinks and David stands up. ‘I’ll be back in a minute. Think you two could use that.’ He flashes me a smile, before he takes his coffee with him and walks away from our table.

Henry and I stare at each other for awhile. He looks torn and broken and I stand up from my seat, before walking over and I sit next to him. He stiffens up and when I gently place my hand in the back of his neck, I not only feel his warm skin against my palm, but also how tense he is.

Poor guy.

‘You really hurt me, Henry,’ I whisper.

‘I know and for that I’m so terribly sorry.’

‘I know, but I can’t stay mad at you forever and I don’t even want to. Listen: I forgive you.’

His eyes are filled with pain and regret and I place my forehead against his.

‘I’m sorry I never gave you time to explain yourself.’

‘I didn’t deserve that,’ he says, ‘so please don’t apologize for that. You had every right to be as mad as you were.’

I open my mouth and finally I manage to whisper: ‘I love you, Henry.’ The second those words leave my lips, a sob follows.

He cradles my face, his thumb caressing the apple of my cheek. ‘Addy, I love you too,’ he whispers. ‘I promise you that if you allow me, I can show you that I can be the best boyfriend for you. I hope you know I’ll never hurt you like this anymore.’

I smile, as a tear rolls over my cheek. He wipes it away. ‘I know and I really want to try it again, because I can’t seem to forget you, let alone get over you.’

‘I can’t believe you are actually willing to give me a second chance. I don’t deserve that.’

I nod. ‘You do, Henry.’ I wrap my arms around his shoulders and nuzzle my face in his nape. ‘You deserve a second chance. You did everything I wanted you to do.’ I take in his scent, the mix of sweet and salty. ‘I missed you so much.’

He pulls me closer to him. ‘I missed you too, Addy. I’m going to make it up to you.’

I pull back and send him a smile, only to be met by one of his beautiful smiles. Before I can say something, David clears his throat and we both look up. A blush creeps up my cheeks. ‘From what I’m seeing, I get that you two made up?’ As if he didn’t just interrupt a beautiful moment, David plops back on his seat and Henry and I let go of each other. He simply stares at the two of us, before he starts to laugh. ‘You two aren’t teenagers, you can drop the busted look in your eyes. I’m happy you two made up. Henry, you want me to do the best friend speech about kicking your ass when you hurt Adelaide ever again?’

‘I really feel like I should have a say in this,’ I mumble. ‘Besides, David, look at Henry. You’re not going to win that.’

He cocks an eyebrow. ‘Have you seen me with knifes? If Diego Hargreeves can do it, so can I, so listen.’ He turns to Henry with a serious look in his eyes. ‘If I even hear one bad syllable about her from you, directly or indirectly, I’ll kill you.’

Henry nods with a chuckle. ‘I know.’

◎ ◎ ◎

After we said our goodbyes to Diego, we go to my apartment building and somehow we ended up with the splendid idea to use the swimming pool downstairs. He arranged some shorts from the reception, while I changed into a red bikini.

Now I’m sitting on the edge of the pool, while Henry is already standing in the water. He places his hands on the sides of my thighs and simply stares at me. ‘What is it?’ I ask him, as my fingers run through his damp hairs.

‘I missed you,’ he whispers. ‘I missed looking into your beautiful eyes. I missed touching your skin. I missed talking to you, being around you.’

‘I missed you too,’ I say. ‘Especially kissing you.’ I wrap my arms around his neck and press a kiss on the tip of his nose. ‘We’re all good, Henry.’

‘Are you sure? Is there still anything you need to get off your chest? If so, please tell me. I’d rather know now.’

‘It’s all good. Remember, I forgave you and I want to give you your well deserved second chance. Is there anything you need to get off your chest?’

‘No,’ he says. ‘I just want you to know that I’m not going to mess this up.’

‘I know.’ I wrap my legs around him, to pull him closer to the edge. I press a kiss on his lips and I don’t think our kisses have ever felt this desperate. He opens his mouth and as I response, I do the exact same. Henry pulls me into the cold water and despite him holding me safely against him, I can’t help but moan as I freeze up.

We fall into our same old routine, as if we didn’t spend eight months apart from each other. We laugh, he holds me and lets me try to swim a bit on my own. However, when my head goes underwater, he is quick to pull me up. While I’m coughing, he apologizes with a gentle kiss on his cheek.

I smile at him. ‘I love you, Henry,’ I whisper.

‘I love you too, Addy,’ he says, ‘and forever will.’

[multmilk]

Strawberries and Cigarettes | l.t

Pairing: idol!Taeyong x idol!reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: Use of cigars/smoking, character death, a bit of smut

Word count: 2.6k

He was from SM and you were from JYP. He was a member of 3 boy groups and you were a solo artist. His genre was more of pop while you make rnb. The two of you were working on opposite sides of the world so when you received the news that the two of you were collaborating, you were bewildered.

Now you were sitting alone inside a coffee shop waiting for Taeyong. You knew he was a talented man—a rapper, a composer and a hell of a good dancer. You’ve watched a lot of fancams out of pure curiosity and you were surprised that you had the pleasure of getting to work with him.

“Y/N?” a rich and foreign voice said, looking up at him you felt your heart skip a beat at his appearance. His hair was brown and it had some streaks of gray to it, it was a little disheveled but it still looked good. He was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt that made the veins in his hands more prominent, a dangling earing on his ear that added more charisma to him.

“I’m Lee Taeyong,” he smiled. Ooooh fuck he looks good, his voice sent shivers down your spine. You gestured for him to sit down across of you. This is going to be interesting, you thought.

----

It’s been a month since the two of you worked together. You mostly worked in his apartment, though his members lived there with him, they respected you and treated you like their family. They leave when the two of you work so that you could focus and they wouldn’t create ruckus.

You weren’t fully comfortable with him yet and you know he felt the same way too. You always sat on the edge of his bed while he sat on his chair across you. It was hard to work with someone so new, someone who’s a stranger. You had to be careful with every step you take—and although that being cautious is good, it’s difficult to not voice out your ideas to him because you’re afraid of him judging of what you thought.

You two were working on an album that focuses on the issues of society today. You had two solo songs, he had two solo songs and then there were two songs that features the both of you.

Your first song tackles about the beauty standards of men and women of our generation. How men aren’t allowed to wear make-up because it makes them look more feminine and how women should have this petite figure and if they don’t look what society expects them to look like, they do not belong in this place.

Your next song focuses on gender roles. Women can have a job that is expected to supposedly be for men and vice versa. Also, how people should be respected no matter their chose of job. Whether they are sex workers, drag queens or a waitress—each should be treated equally.

Taeyong’s first song is about corruption in politics and the politicians that don’t uphold the values and  morals of a good leader and how in turn, makes a country incompetent and their people ignorant.  

His next song is about the challenges faced by the mass. Poverty, treated unequally, high medicine fee and all things in between. What the two of you have worked on alone is a masterpiece.

Right now you were stuck inside his room, diverting your attention towards anything but making the music together. You’ve asked him for help and he did that but working on two whole songs together just seems a bit out of your comfort zone.

“What about pizza?” he asks “I don’t think pizza is a good top-“ you got cut off with his laugh. It was a hearty one too, not the chuckles you hear he lets go once you accidentally do or say something funny.

“I meant maybe you want me to get a pizza delivered? Maybe it’ll help remove this,” he gestured to the space between us, “Tension?” you just laughed, probably because you felt stupid and embarrassed for not catching his drift but you agreed to get pizza.

You and Taeyong are now seated on each side of his bed sharing a box of pizza. For the past hour, you two have been sharing stories and jokes like childhood friends catching up. You’ve learned that he has a passion for understanding arts, he’s really good at playing video games and he likes listening to Drake.

Neither of you initiated to start working on your songs but you liked the time you were using to get to know him. He was kind, gentle and warm.

There were numerous spotlights surrounding Taeyong. The photographer asked him to try different poses and to relax but for some reason, his shoulders were too tense and his hands were shaking a bit. You and Taeyong started hanging around a lot when you two decided to write your music. You two hung out in his apartment where his members stay and spend time with the two of you, you hung out in the convenience store eating ice cream and telling jokes. You didn’t have many friends in the music industry and now you consider Taeyong as your best friend.

He looked good, you thought. He was sporting a gold glittered blazer with a black top beneath it, 3 layered chokers and he was wearing the dangling earrings you loved so much on him.

You walked towards Taeyong and said, “Yong, look at me,” he let out a breathy laugh but kept his head down. Putting your fingers under his chin and tilting his head upwards you ask, “What’s wrong?” he closes his eyes and exhales “I smell strawberries,” your eyes widened at his statement. “S-strawberries?” “Yes, strawberries,” he then looks at your eyes and continues “Before my best friend died, she asked me to fetch her strawberries. So, I went to the hospital and see her having a seizure. Doctors were all around her, her boyfriend was frantic and I dropped the jar of strawberry jam. It was the last time I ever associated myself with the fruit,” then he laughs. You apologize and say that it probably was your perfume but he tucks your hair behind your ear and says that it was fine.

This whole time you were talking the photographer took candid photos of you and Taeyong and claimed that it was good for the album cover already. Taeyong kisses your cheek and feel blush creep in on your face.

You were going to sleep well today.

---

The both of you were in Amsterdam to film your music video. You were dressed in a black laced bustier top paired with black flared pants and Taeyong is wearing a white button up top.

It’s been an hour of filming and Taeyong has been showering you with compliments. Your relationship has gotten to the point where you two flirt shamelessly and honestly, you didn’t have any complaints.

As the crew and directors all were huddled to talk about the next scene, you were out smoking looking at the museums and buildings surrounding you.

“You didn’t tell me you smoked,” Taeyong stalks toward you and keeps his hands inside of his pockets. “You never asked. Want to join me?” “No thanks. I quit after she died,” you nod.

“Do you believe in heaven and in hell?” you ask and then he stands beside you, “Move away from me Yong, you’re going to get cancer from second-hand smoking you know,” “I believe that if we die, we’re just going to live a life with eternal darkness and quietness and loneliness,” he answers your question and ignores your previous statement. “I do believe in God, yes, but if we die and then that’s it. Do you believe in it?” he asks, “I believe that we do go to heaven or hell based on the actions and choices we’ve made in our borrowed time living here,” you say.

“What separates the people who will enter heaven to those who will enter hell? I mean, humans make pretty bad and wrong decisions. If hurting a person, unintentionally and intentionally, is just the basis for us to live a life in paradise or in damnation then I guess we’re all fucked huh?” you both laugh. You throw your cigarette to the trash can near you and stick your hand out for Taeyong to hold.

---

The first time you and him kissed was after your comeback stage.

It was hot, it was messy and you felt like flying. He told you you tasted like strawberries mixed with the after-taste of cigars. You just laugh and continue kissing down his neck.

He tugged at your hair and removed the strap off of your dress. You got on your knees and unbuckled his belt.

As the night went further and your relationship progressed, he had told you that he loves you and that you indeed smell like strawberries. And as much as he dislikes the fruit and what comes with it, if loving you means he has to smell and taste like strawberries for the rest of his life then so be it.

You slept with a smile on your face, head on Taeyong’s chest and his arms caging you for protection.

---

You were hysterical.

You had rushed Taeyong into the ER as soon as your comeback stage had ended. You were supposed to go out and celebrate with him, announce the tour you were having but all your plans had ended once you saw the he had coughed up blood and was having a hard time breathing.

Machines and tubes were stuck in his body, his unconscious body. You held his hand for the longest time that day and you weren’t planning on letting go.

You woke up with Taeyong speaking to the doctor and you saw that they were having a serious conversation. “Taeyong?” he looks at you, a little startled. He ushers the doctor to leave and says to you, “Hey, you should go back to sleep,” you ask what the doctor said and he just simply says that it was a bad bad bad case of food poisoning. You were apprehensive but you didn’t want to push it any further, he needed his rest after all.

That was the first mistake you made.

---

The second mistake was smoking around him. You wanted to stop but it had helped you through the sleepless nights and when you were overthinking.

The third mistake was pushing through with the tour. It was his idea, saying it was the least you two could do for your fans but it was your fault for supporting it.

The last straw was watching him being taken away by the paramedics and staying kneeled and glued to the stage as they rushed him into the hospital.

You arrived seeing doctors moving everywhere and getting paddles and shouting ‘clear’. You couldn’t stand to watch him as they revived his body. So, you took your pack of cigarettes and went outside.

By the time you finished three sticks, you decided to see how Taeyong was doing. Every step you took felt like it weighed tons, like your world was crashing but seeing and hearing the doctors call the time of his death? You felt that the world has ended.

You were screaming and crying and questioning everything and anything. You screamed and screamed until your cries had taken over and seeing Taeyong lying on his bed cold and lifeless, it shattered you.

---

Months after his death, you continued on with the tour.

Today, you were in Amsterdam and was about to finish the last song.

Right before you sung though, Taeyong’s voice rung around the concert hall. Everyone was quiet.

“Hey Y/N. If you’re hearing this it means that I’ve died. I have a few things to say so please listen.

From the first day I met you, I knew that I was going to fall in love with you but the minute I smelt your strawberry scent? I knew I had to distance myself,” he laughs.

“It was hard to though. It was the boys who pushed me to hang out with you more. It would benefit our work after all. Hence, the pizza mistaken as a song topic incident. From that moment on, I found myself liking you much more than I intended to.

Fast forward to all of our shared jokes and stories. Late night ice-cream stops at the convenience store. Breakfast dates. Coffee-stained sweaters and deep conversations while you smoked.

I knew that I fell in love with you the moment that your lips brushed mine. It was special, magical, felt like I was floating on cloud nine. I just let myself fall deeper until the moment you rushed me into the ER when I coughed up blood.

I needed you to stay away from me because I knew that it would happen. I am sorry, I am very sorry, that I didn’t tell you the truth.  Maybe if I had told you the truth you would’ve really stayed away from me but I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you and hurt you.

I am a smoker. I quit because my best friend died of second-hand smoking. It was my fault she died, it was my fault I hated strawberries and it’s my fault now that I left you without ever explaining the truth about me.

I don’t want you blaming yourself for not noticing the signs or for keeping on smoking. None of this is your fault Y/N.

I just didn’t want to lose the time knowing that you’d be so cautious around me. No, I wanted us to be as normal as we could ever be. I wanted more time with you but I guess this is for the best.

You deserve so much more this world could ever offer. You are a great person with a great personality, great talents, great body and a great heart.

I want- I need you to keep on using that talent and heart to inspire people all over the world to fight. We have achieved so much together and I want you to use this pain into art.

I loved you and I will love you even if my soul ends up in a cold and dark place. I will love you even if you choose to love another guy. I know, I know that I will be in your heart and that I will always have that one piece saved specifically for me.

I love you and your cigarettes. Your strawberry-flavored perfume scent, your strawberry-flavored shampoo and your taste when I kiss you after you smoke.

Your strawberries clung on to my shirts and sweaters, and it did hurt me at first because it brought back the memories of her but you gave me a new reason to love strawberries.

I love you, Y/N,” as he sings, the whole crowd were in tears and you were sat on the stage clutching your microphone near your heart.

You smile and look up at the ‘heavens’ as he sings,

“Strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you,”

(A/N: This is my first taeyong one-shot and i hope you liked it. i tried to be very angst-y haha. please send in requests aaand feeback is always appreciated!)

[witnesstruesorcery]

Three Chords and the Truth: Random Shenanigans and Bloopers along the Years (Director's Cut)

Howdy! This is a compilation of short clips from the videos I shot along the past five years on this channel (give or take). These clips are leftovers so to speak, which were sitting on my hard drive for quite some time now, basically collecting digital dust, and I never actually made a "blooper-like" type of video on this channel or a mixture of funny stuff with good ol' Country music in the background. These were shot accidentally when I was recording footage for various projects. I later just set them aside (when the times comes they will serve their purpose) in a different folder and voilà! The video you're now watching contains my past. This is "that type" of video, so I encourage and recommend you enjoy every second of it! Alright son? Alright ma'am? It's short yes, and heavily edited yes, and it's awesome yes, yes I know no need to tell me all these things, and it contains a few good songs from two of my favorite Country musicians in the field. It is not a secret that I am an enormous Bluegrass and Country music fan and I have been for many years. In fact, these days I listen to mostly Country and Bluegrass (sometimes a bit of Jazz) almost every single day and for the past 2-3 years I have discovered even more great musicians, so I ain't planning to stop listening and digging in the past. That's the quest I undertook years ago and I intend to do it over and over again. Country music is not just "sound" coming from your speakers or your headphones. It's a way of life! (at least for me) It's just sad and quite unfortunate that I was born in a country (no pun intended) that is vaguely familiar (and flat-out ignorant) with such a historical, vast and important genre of music such as Country music is. In my case it seems this is the the worst joke that can happen to a man in his lifetime, and I ain't even kidding. Fate and circumstances (some other things too) have played a dangerous game of poker and sometimes those two can be very, very nasty sumbitches. But life's tough and we just gotta try to escape our bad luck, our circumstances that led us to where we stand at our current existence, get away from our unwanted surroundings, and then recognize the bars, get familiar with the "code" and change our points of views for our self-betterment and for the good of the ones we love and cherish. This video is a tribute to that, a tribute to change! It is a tribute to Country music, a tribute to my past mistakes in life and to myself. A self tribute? Yeah that's right son! I am that kind of crazy sumbitch, so deal with it or don't! Anyways. Thank you very, very much for sticking around and holding on to this channel, and thank you for subscribing! Cheesy or not, corny as it may be, it really means the world to me!! So stay safe out there and look after youselves. See you 'round boys an gals!

Music by: Buck Owens and Austin Sterling Tracks: Buck Owens - Truck Drivin' Man, from the compilation Buck 'Em! The Music Of Buck Owens (1955-1967) (2CD) (2013) Austin Sterling - Intro, from the album "Under the Floorboards" (2013) (as "The Hangdog Hearts") Austin Sterling - Ground is Shaking from the album "Under the Floorboards" (as "The Hangdog Hearts") All music material belongs to the artists. I am just huge fan who likes their stuff.

𝗜𝗡 𝗡𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗠𝗕𝗘𝗥, 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟬, 𝗜 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘 𝗣𝗨𝗕𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗗 𝗠𝗬 𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗦𝗧 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗕𝗢𝗢𝗞 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 "𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗹𝗲 𝗗𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗣𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴". 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗖𝗔𝗡 𝗣𝗨𝗥𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗔 𝗖𝗢𝗣𝗬 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗪. 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗞 𝗬𝗢𝗨!

𝗡𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗵 𝗔𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗮 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08NF1RD3W 𝗨𝗞 https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B08NF1RD3W/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i0 𝗚𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗻𝘆 https://www.amazon.de/dp/B08NF1RD3W 𝗙𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B08NF1RD3W 𝗖𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗱𝗮 https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B08NF1RD3W

𝗜𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗕𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗗𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 (they ship worldwide for free) https://www.bookdepository.com/Heresy--Metaphysics-Borislav-Vakinov/9798695115550

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗖𝗧: https://linktr.ee/BorislavVakinov witnesstruesorcery@gmail.com

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

There’s More To Her #8

Previous Chapter

All Chapters

A Touch of Fantasy

AR boasted one of the largest and most prestigious photo studios in India. From supermodels to millionaires - they had all been dressed and photographed here. The likes of Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar often graced their covers on shoots held in this space. So nothing should have fazed Arnav Singh Raizada about the beauty and potential of the studio he owned.

Except this was the second time his heart skipped a beat. The first time, it had nothing to do with the studio - it was all about a woman dressed in a gossamer, scarlet red saree.

The lights were dimmed to mimic moonlight. Tall trees, with fairy lights for leaves, twinkled in the darkness. Translucent, stone studded drapes hung, filtering and reflecting the lights on their crystals. At the center was a white table, with matching chairs. There was a small candle, silver cutlery on the table and a few white roses scattered around the studio.

An artificial pond was constructed on both sides of the seating, with hundred floating candles, bathing the entire room in a soft, warm glow. Akash didn’t realise when Payal held his hand. They walked into the studio, in a trance, half in love with the beauty of everything and with each other.

The blue light, golden candles, transparent crystal studded drapes, Payal’s purple salwar and Akash’s white suit was aesthetically… perfect.

Khushi thought of all of this? Arnav turned to her, but was rendered speechless by her soft smile.

“Thank you Arnav ji, Aman ji had told me that you strictly instructed money not to be taken into account for Jiji’s first date-” Khushi’s breath hitched and smile fell at the intensity of his dark gaze. Many nights ago, he had looked at her in the exact manner. No, he couldn’t look at her like this. Not now, not when it was impossible.

“Khushi!” Arnav and Khushi snapped out of their eyelock as Payal ran and grabbed Khushi in her arms, swinging her in excitement.

“Why… you didn’t have to work so hard? When did you find the time? Khushi you shouldn’t have!” Payal fretted but couldn’t stop smiling. Khushi laughed and jumped in equal fervor.

“Offo Jiji, first tell me whether you like it or not.” Khushi asked.

“Like it? Khushi ji this is beyond what either of us expected!” Akash, finally finding words and Payal’s hand, told Khushi.

“Exactly, it’s as if we have-” Payal began, “-entered a fantasy.” Akash completed. Payal and Akash looked at each other, and immediately looked away, blush creeping up their cheeks.

“Alright, it’s our time to go.” Arnav said. No matter how enchanted he was by the setup, another minute of Akash and Payal’s romance would send him to the hospital for blood sugar - even if he wasn’t diagnosed with diabetes.

Khushi, on the other hand, scowled at the interruption. She wanted to sit and watch the entire exchange. Nothing interested her more than romance. In reality. Or on television. Or both - Kamlesh Tha Khabri Ab Pandit Ji, a show where her favorite news anchor married brides and grooms across the country was her current obsession.

“No really Khushi ji, this is very… very…” Akash cracked a wide toothed smile, the fashion analyst and romantic in him too satisfied by what he saw.

“Beautiful,” Arnav murmured. Khushi stiffened, noticing that Arnav wasn’t looking at the setup at all. In bringing out the best for Payal, Khushi had bared her heart and fantasies in front of the one man who quashed it all down. This was a mistake.

“You’ve nearly done better than Bhansali.” Akash brought Khushi out of her thoughts. And just like that, Khushi’s worries disappeared.

“Hey Devi Maiya! Really?” Khushi shrieked.

“Bhansali? Is he a photographer or-” Arnav frowned, the name seeming familiar.

“-arrey Sanjay Leela Bhansali! Hindi film director.”

“Of course,” Arnav muttered.

“He’s known for his grand designs. Also, he has worked with everyone - Amitabh Bachchan ji, Aishwarya ji, Shah Rukh ji, Salman ji-” Khushi gushed, “-but Akash ji, you’re quick to catch my reference. And you’re being too kind!” Akash scoffed at her humility.

“No way! It’s one thing to see a song and another to bring it to life. This is a replica of Chand Chupa-”

“Baadal Main!” Khushi shrieked, yanking a bemused Payal’s hand. If anything, Akash and Khushi’s budding friendship only made her fall faster and harder Akash.

“No, the moon does not hide. Scientifically it’s a matter of perception-” Khushi and Akash simultaneously rolled their eyes.

“They’re talking about a song in a film.” Payal clarified. Arnav had the grace not to turn red out of embarrassment.

“Yes, I was only speaking about the futility of this metaphor. Thank goodness I’ve never seen such films-” Payal signaled Arnav to stop talking. He did, after noticing Khushi gawking at him.

“You… you’ve NEVER SEEN Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam?!”

“No-” Arnav, belatedly caught Payal miming a movement of a belt buckle. What the hell? Payal wears belts? What shitty move is this? Oh shit… is this a Salman Khan film?

“And you’ve NEVER seen Chand Chupa Badal Main?” Khushi emphasized, forgetting the man in front of her refrained from almost any and every Salman Khan film.

“Chand Chupa Badal Main!” She stressed, wildly gesticulating to the entire studio. Arnav nodded negatively. Payal’s plan to rescue Arnav from Khushi’s hysteria was interrupted with Akash handing her a white rose. It was a nice interruption.

Khushi unpinned her dupatta and lifted the white translucent fabric high in the air. The faint glow of the candles and moonlight danced across her face.

“Chand Chupa-” Khushi’s smile halted at his haunted eyes. Arnav’s hand itched to pull the fabric away. Against every will, his hand rose.

“Khushi ji,” Akash said. Arnav froze and violently tucked his hand back into his pocket. Khushi dropped her dupatta like a hot coal. “Bhai has not even seen the film, so the song’s a long shot! But I have-”

It’s the precise moment Akash realized his brother was staring at him.

“I have… heard, heard about my film. During my tenth board exams, when I left for tuition classes - my friends told me about the film. I did not watch it. I did not skip classes - Bhai you know me.” Payal gripped Akash’s arm to stop his verbal diarrhea.

“Your tenth grade results suddenly make a lot of sense.” Arnav folded his arms, staring at a pale Akash.

“What are you saying Bhai?! I got ninety four percent, despite watching-” Payal pinched his arm. Khushi, if not worried about her to-be-brother-in-law’s future at the hands of his brother, would have cooed at Payal’s concern.

“-birds.” Akash croaked, “and Bhai, you were anyways miles away at Harvard. It’s not that you would’ve known-”

“Known how wonderfully talented Khushi is!” Payal interjected. Akash nodded, so quickly that Khushi was afraid his head might fall off. Seriously, what’s the big deal? It’s not that Arnav ji would kill Akash ji for watching a Salman Khan film!

Khushi opened her mouth to pacify the Laad Governor, and with one look she chose to her right to remain silent. Arnav positively glowered, and because of the dim light one wouldn’t see the smoke fuming out of his nose and ears.

“I love how pretty this is!” Payal continued, “The fairy lights, roses, moonlight, pond, table, chair, candles” Payal pointed at each element.

“Candles… Khushi, you told Aman to switch off the fire sprinklers for the studio, right?” Arnav turned to a very still Khushi.

“Khushi ji must have done that, she’s worked here before.” Akash supported her.

“Exactly,” Arnav glared at her.

“A few-” Arnav raised an eyebrow, “-hundred candles won’t cause any trouble-” Khushi whispered and at that precise moment, the fire sprinklers activated with an alarm.

The candles, studio’s decorations, Akash’s dreams, Payal’s expectations and Khushi’s plans were sufficiently doused.

---

With Payal in the washroom and Akash in the AR wardrobe, post his wise decision of bringing spare clothes for the rest, Khushi murmured a prayer as Arnav dragged her to Akash’s office.

He pushed back his wet hair and thumped an empty vase in the center of Akash’s table.

“Ar-”

“Shut up!” He stormed to his cabin and returned, a bunch of white roses in his hand. With brutal force he pushed the stems into the vase. Khushi stood in the corner, her hands folded ahead of her like a naughty child punished by a school teacher.

Arnav grumbled, the fairy light trees were- thankfully - waterproof. As Arnav bent to pick one heavy tree up, Khushi edged forward to help.

“Don’t!” He barked. She quickly resumed to her position, fidgeting with the edge of her wet dupatta.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed as none of the lights switched on. Khushi tiptoed by him and put the plug into the socket. Arnav glared at her as the lights came to life. He removed his wet coat, vest and tie and handed it to her.

“Ar-”

“Just stand here.” He ordered and rolled back his sleeves. With a swift squat he picked up two heavy trees and deposited them on the corners of Akash’s office.

“Unbelievable! You are unbelievable Khushi Kumari Gupta! THIS was your plan? Tell me, does any stupid song of yours have a rain sequence?” Arnav huffed.

“Tip tip barsa pani-” Khushi squeaked as Arnav shot her a glare, “No I mean you asked about a rain song… no of course that’s not going to come into real life! You don’t have to be upset - it’s not a Salman Khan song!” She stepped back as Arnav marched towards her, his anger rising at every statement.

“It’s Akshay ji and Raveena ji’s song. He wears a brown suit while she wears a yellow saree an-and I’m sorry!” Khushi clutched her eyes shut.

“I don’t care who’s song it is! I don’t care what they’re wearing. This is Akash’s first date with a woman he wants to marry and that’s all I care about!” Arnav growled and slapped his palm against the wall.

“I didn’t do this purposely! And it’s not just your brother’s first date - it’s also my sister’s!” Khushi jutted her chin, matching his temperament. How dare he accuse her! It was just an accident! But his eyes bored into hers, as if he believed she was intentionally capable of ruining things.

“Why is it so easy for you to believe the worst of me?” Khushi choked up. Arnav lost his grip, his palms slid off the wall, his anger replaced by confusion.

“I don’t-”

“Bhai, Payal and I got some clothes for you and Khushi ji,” Arnav and Khushi sprang away from each other.

“You’re wearing-”

“A brown suit. And I took the liberty of getting a charcoal grey one for-” Akash stopped, realising Arnav and Khushi were gawking at him.

“What happened?”

Payal had appeared, draped in a canary yellow saree.

Khushi, warily, turned to a shocked Arnav.

“You’re fucking kidding me!”

---

Glossary:

Dupatta = stole, Chaand Chupa Baadal Main = the moon hides in the clouds (a song in the film, Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam), Offo = a common expression in Hindi-Urdu speaking regions, used for expressing the feeling for something that is just too much, something like Oh My God, Oh Man!, etc., Kamlesh Tha Khabri Ab Pandit Ji = Kamlesh was a new journalist, now he’s a priest, Tip Tip Barsa Pani = water fell, drop by drop (a song in the film, Mohra). 

A/N: I hope you all liked this update. But what's important is the #BlackLivesMatter protests happening in America across the world. Let's support in any and every way we can.

Study. Support. Speak.

Love,

S

Also read it on: Wattpad

[finmoryo]

Narrative for my Awful English Class

Constructive criticism is appreciated!

When I was in eighth grade, I swore I’d never join marching band. As I look back now, I realize how wrong I was. In middle school, I wasn’t committed to much. Band was always the side class that got me out of Inquiries and Ideas and Design Squad, two classes that bored me out of my mind. Sometimes we played fun music for concerts, like Pirates of the Caribbean, but I didn’t really care. Against all odds, I joined marching band. 

At first, I hated it. Practices were long, hot, and painful and I couldn’t play the clarinet nearly as well as the older kids. The first football game was when I realized that maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge. Well, the second football game, as the first one was cancelled because of stormy weather. I’d never felt more relieved in my life as we heard the boom of thunder while marching down the sidewalk. We were led right back into the band room, and not long after, sent home. The second football game, I wasn’t so lucky. 

The band was eating in the cafeteria before the game and my nerves were running high. Although I sat with people I’d gotten to know well in the past months of band camp and after school practices, they could not comfort me. At that moment, I was alone with my feelings of anxiety. I was sure everything that could go wrong would go wrong.

After getting into uniform and struggling to put my hair into a bun, I went to Main Street with the rest of the band and formed a block - a large formation of the members in a square, four steps away from each other. We played a few things to warm up, though mostly concert f. We grabbed our hats and instruments and walked out the doors and towards the field, where we’d be performing our pregame in less than an hour.

Each step seemed to pass quicker than the last. We got closer and closer to the stadium, my heart beating faster than I thought it possibly could. I was going to hate this. Eighth grade had already proven that. Eighth grade night at marching band, I couldn’t play any pep tunes and everything was so foreign. Although I was more prepared this time, I was sure I’d fail the same way.

We placed our stuff down in the stands at the end of the field and stood there for about ten minutes, waiting for the stands to fill up and time to pass so we could begin the game. We lined up on the sideline, ready to march onto the field. Drumbeats clicked us off one line at a time. I waited in line, counting 1, 2, 3, 4, with the drums as each line stepped off after waiting eight counts. At last, it was my turn. I stood on the yardline, head held up high under the weight of the shako, and arms raised, clarinet extending into the sky. With a firm push, my left foot hit the ground as the drumstick hit the rim of the drum. 

It seemed like forever as I marched down the field to my destination. We’d learned pregame for the first time only that week and I was sure I’d mess up. I stopped in time and turned to face the front sideline. After the announcer made his speech, the senior drum major raised her hands to start. The metronome was turned on and we loudly counted: 5, 6, 5, 6, 7, 8. In unison, the band stepped off with our left feet  and each member made their way to their next position on the field. I kept my eyes glued to the people around me, so I’d know where to go. We stopped after our shape was formed,  24 counts in.

The national anthem was played, albeit badly. I stood there, shaking, as I moved my fingers to the beat, not producing any sound from my instrument. I didn’t have any of it memorized and I’d be too scared to play out even if I did. Things weren’t off to a good start.

The next few dots came and went, with us playing catchy pep tunes like Hang On Sloopy. That was easy. Play a g a few times, then an a and you’re done. Pregame ended with the band playing the fight song and the football team running. Thankfully, I was in the front of the block, where no football player could accidentally run me over.

When pregame was over, we returned to the stands and got ready to play pep tunes. Much to my surprise, I could play a couple. Hang On Sloopy was easy, Crazy Train was manageable in some parts, but Hey Ya and 25 or 6 to 4 needed work. I’d gotten the first hard part over with, but the worst was yet to come. The halftime show was the big event, the first time to show everyone what the band had been working on for the last few months. I was going to fail spectacularly and maybe take a few others down with me.

Pep tunes were played and drum cadences were danced to and the night wore on. Halftime finally arrived. The sky was pitch black, the stars blocked out by the harsh lights of the stadium. The crowd was cheering for their football team, still knowing they wouldn’t win. Normally the noise would be overwhelming. It still was, but my brain had blocked it out. The anxiety had gotten even worse, so bad that each breath was a desperate attempt to cling to the world around me. Colors blurred in front of my eyes and the world was spinning. I thought I was either going to pass out or die. Nevertheless, I was shepherded over to my spot and lined up. I couldn’t think or speak and my focus was nonexistent, but the show would go on, even without me.

The metronome clicked off and I did as practiced, muscle memory taking over. I stopped at the thirty yard line, next to Catherine, Derek, Ethan, and all the other clarinet players who would guide me through this. We stood at low for a minute while the front ensemble set up. My fingers shook and I clenched my right elbow with such ferocity that I felt it would go numb forever. The drum majors called us to set and then playing position, and the show began.

The feeling came partway through the first of our four movements. In scientific terms, this feeling is adrenaline. To me, it was just pure joy and a sharp sense of focus. The many after-school practice sessions were coming to fruition. I played very little, but did my part to support the rest of the band. Once Upon A December was tough, but new energy had overcome me and I pushed through. It was a feeling of superhuman strength, that I could do anything. I would survive this after all. I’d already made mistakes, that was something that could hardly be avoided, but it wasn’t going to crash and burn.

I snapped my instrument up to set for the final time in the show and stood in my spot at the end of movement two, staring blankly at the drum major in front of the applauding crowd. We were marched off the field and led to our stands. We took off our hats and listened to Mr. Fischer, the band director, compliment and criticize our performance.

“Hats up if you had a good run!” Mr. Fischer yelled before continuing.

My hat, along with many others, shot into the air.

Marching band continued like this for the rest of the season, in football games, practices, and weekend competitions. The adrenaline rush came during every performance and there was always a huge smile plastered on my face afterward. There were good times and bad, but the memories I made will stay with me forever. 

I never imagined marching band would be something I participated in, much less enjoyed. Sometimes you never know if you’ll like something before you try it. Marching wasn’t like I had thought it would be. I had closed myself off, and in doing so, could have missed the best thing that could have ever happened to me in high school.

[angelkurenai]

Hurricane - Dean Winchester x Reader (Detective AU) - Part 10

Title: Hurricane

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word count: 5,074

Warnings: None

Summary: With one of the most dangerous serial killers on the loose and in your tracks you have no choice but to rely on the help of the police to ansure your safety. It doesn’t hurt that the detective in charge is the one of the most skilled there is and probably, well, definitely the most charming one you have ever seen. Or that his flirting with you takes your mind off the danger waiting for you right around the corner. & Based on: Imagine detective Dean Winchester flirting with you while working on your case.

Read Part 1 here! l Read Part 2 here! l Read Part 3 here! l Read Part 4 here! l Read Part 5 here! l Read Part 6 here! l Read Part 7 here! l Read Part 8 here! l Read Part 9 here!

“Why... what is it, Dean?” you looked at him with a frown.

“Maybe...” he blinked, clenching his jaw before he looked at you with slightly wide and certainly “The connection I needed all along.”

“Connection? But how could-”

“And the solution, (Y/n). The solution to all of your problems... to all of our problems.” he breathed almost in shock at the realization that downed on him. A realization you couldn't fully comprehend yet.

“Solution? What kind of solution are you talking about, Dean?” you blinked but he didn't answer as he kept thinking to himself.

“Dean?” you question without an answer “Dean answer me! Dean? Dean!” but he didn't seem to listen much to you as he set his glass aside, got up and walked around the coffee table making his way out of the living room you were just dining in.

“Dean wait! Where are you-” you groaned as you accidentally pressed on your injured leg. You limped your way towards his office, assuming it was the most plausible option judging by his direction.

“Dean? What's all of this?” you asked with wide eyes, seeing the mess of papers he had managed to make already.

“It was here, I swear I'd put somewhere here.” he grumbled “Son of a bitch, where did I put it?!” he growled, opening book after book.

“What are you looking for? Dean please calm down and explain to me.”

“I can't, I fucking can't! I need to find it, I need to find-” he stopped when he finally found the book he wanted, slipping through the pages a file fell on his desk. And as that silence filled the room as well.

“D” you whispered when you saw how he paled the moment he held the file open in his hands “What is it?” you whispered, getting closer to him.

“It was him.” he breathed out before looking at you “The reason why she's after you. It's him.”

“Him- who? I don't understand you Dean. What are you talking about?” you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Chuck” he breathed out and you took a step back at the seriousness in his voice “It is Chuck that I've been looking for, the connection, right there from the very beginning but I couldn't see it. She's after you because of Chuck!”

“D-Dean wh-” you shook your head “W- what are you talking about?” you blinked, taking another step back and he looked at you in sympathy.

“(Y/n), I mean-”

“No, Dean!” you felt your head hammer in your chest and all the blood rush to your ears “What are you talking about?! Chuck is- he's my friend, he's a cop, a good one, he wouldn't lead her to- to me. How could Chuck be involved in any of this but-”

“They're siblings!” he cut you off “They're... siblings, (Y/n).” he whispered, when he saw all kinds of emotions flash in front of your wide eyes. Your wide glossy eyes he noticed as you gasped in utter shock, the betrayal obvious on your face, as you stumbled backwards. His entire body screamed for him to take a step forward and gather you in his arms, hug you close like there was no tomorrow and tell you that everything was going to be alright. But you raised a hand, stopping him before he could do anything. It broke his heart to watch you like this and even more hear your weak, little broken voice whisper to him.

“What?”

He took a deep breath, opting to look at the file and papers in front of him rather than you because then he knew he would break “He... obviously didn't want to tell you to protect you. That's what my best guess would be.”

“Guess? Guess? Dean do you hear what you're even saying?! You're- You're implying my- my friends, my closest people, the ones I considered like family from you, to Sam, Cas, and now Chuck have all just been lying to me from the beginning a-and keeping secrets?!” you ended up yelling, tears pooling in your eyes and the man winced, closing his eyes for a moment. Your words felt like a stab to his heart, because although he had started pretending as if everything was alright between you – he was desperate to convince himself of that – he knew very well that they weren't. And they would end up getting even worse when he told you the whole truth.

“(Y/n), I know it's hard-”

“No Dean, it's not hard! It's impossible! This- this can't be- it can't be true! Please tell me it's not true. Please tell me you-you're wrong. Please.” and he made the mistake too look you in the eyes.

A sob left his own lips as all of his strength faded away and without a second thought he actually grabbed you by the shoulders and enveloped you in his arms, despite any protests, whimpers or weak pushes “Please” you begged and he clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes tightly.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry. But I'm not.” it pained him to say it but he had to.

“H-how-” you choked out, clenching the fabric of his flannel in your fists “How do you know that? How can you be so sure?”

“Come sit first please.”

“Dean” you growled, glaring at him harshly, his flannel still fisted in your hands “Tell. Me. Everything.”

His eyes widened, understanding fully well what you meant “(Y/n) this is not the time or that, you can't hear what-”

“You promised me, Dean, you-” you clenched your jaw and then whispered hoarsely “You promised.”

“Alright, God, fine.” he tried to swallow the lump in his throat “Please, just sit. I know what I'm telling you, your foot's not alright either.”

“O-Ok” you whispered weakly in defeat but mostly fear and he instantly grabbed a chair to help you sit, doing the same himself. He took hold of your hands and let himself smile for a split second when you squeezed them gently.

“She was held far away from here, before all of these began.” he breathed out, locking eyes with you “Before even the police station was created here, she was locked somewhere where she couldn't do any harm. Somewhere where almost nobody could find her. A prison made only for the worst of the worst and she had a special place there two.”

“One of those places that officially doesn't exist?” you whispered and he gave you a small nod.

“Yes, there.” he cleared his throat “Her skills are something out of this world. She can manipulate people to do things she wants, it's like she... reprogramms their brains by using a few words. She can break them, make them do things they never even thought of, it's almost like she turns them into different persons... as if they don't have a soul at all.”

“Is that... possible?” you blinked.

“If people like Sherlock Holmes are possible to exist then everything is.” he shrugged “People can achieve just so much if they use their brains correctly. Anyway-” he sighed “Her family, well the only family member she had, began to see it from the very beginning that they were equally dangerous. There has been a report that said she was caught with a knife in her hand and when asked she only answered “I wanted to know what happens to a soul after death.” she- she was only six years old and she-” he clenched his jaw, looking down at your hands for a moment in total terror, and you didn't blame him. It was one thing kids killing people but when it was all so meticulous and well-thought it made you shake with fear of what they could really do now.

“The body was never found, nobody knows where she hid it. She's always hinted it, she's said, but all she did was sing a stupid song about it.” he shook his head.

“And how did she end up in her... prison?” you whispered and he licked his lips.

“As I said she only had one relative, we now know it's... Chuck. She loved him but could get jealous very easily. They didn't live alone, of course, they had both been adopted and raised by a lonely man whose wife died early. There was this one time...” he trailed off for a moment “The borther, the files say, Chuck we now know was having a party for his birthday and he had many friends over. Only thing it was when the time for the cake came... the candles weren't the only thing on fire. Neighbors had claimed that she was the reason why their house burned down, and reports did confirm it was arson. Nobody but the two siblings survived. They were soon lead to an orphanage where her... disturbing behavior didn't stop.”

“Anyway-” he cleared his throat “Those files you saw me holding were... confidential. Some of us try to keep ties with not just the US government. When it comes to people like Amara, and trust me there are others equally as bad or worse, it requires us to keep contact with people outside this country and even outside this continent. People like the ones in the UK government, some of them specialise in getting monsters like her down. So, someone actually let me in on some reports that had been kept hidden when she was put in her prison... Turns out her brother was the one that did it. Mycroft Holmes, uh the guy I told you about, had dealt with a similar situation of his own and he let me know that the person who put Amara in her prison was actually someone of great power, involved in Federal business he supposed, but the only evidence he had pointed to great power and access to said prison.”

“So who'd be better than the director of the FBI himself.” you muttered.

“Exactly. And when you told me you were... that close in the past-” he pursed his lips for a second and you raised an eyebrow at how clearly bothered by it he looked “Then it doesn't take a genius to figure out he's the missing piece in this puzzle. She is after you because you two were close, because she's trying to lure him out. She wants revenge for putting her in that prison.”

“Of course she does.” you pursed your lips, letting go of his hand “Gosh, I can't believe how naive I've been.” you buried your face in your hands, letting out a shaky breath.

“You're not, look at me here-” he growled and you obeyed “You are not naive. You are the best thing that has happened in my entire life.” he ended up whispering, taking hold of your hands again “You are a ray of sunshine, that's what you are. You have faith in people, you believe they can be good but not everyone is, sadly. Just because there are... assholes out there, doesn't mean something is wrong with you. They-” he clenched his jaw “We all think we are doing it for the best but in the end-”

“How did you meet her?” you whispered and his eyebrows shot up, his eyes widening slightly “Tell me, Dean. You can tell me, I won't be mad I promise you. I don't have any emotional strength for that anymore, anyway.”

He held your gaze for a few second before he took in a trembling breath “I was working on a case.” his voice was barely above a whisper and you leaned, giving his hand a squeeze “Serial killer, uh Abaddon was her name. She was... one of the most lethal ones, I'll tell you. I thought I got her once but she escaped. I uhm was going through a hard time then with Sammy and I... I was in a dark place.” he clenched his jaw, taking a long pause that made you worry for him.

He sighed tiredly, shaking his head “I wanted to get it over with by any means so I worked with Crowley. I'm sure that doesn't surprise you, now, but he was actually just my way to something bigger. He got me to meet a man, Cain was his name. He had the means to help me get to Abaddon, kill her and all, but it would come at a great cost.There would be consequences that would affect me greatly. I was reckless, as usual-” he gave you a half smile “And I agreed, without a second thought. I needed to get Abaddon and I didn't care even if I died in the process.”

He was quick to notice the scowl that set on your face and he gave you a reassuring smile “Don't worry, I'm alive and kicking, and you are definitely not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

“I hope not.” you whispered hoarsely “So-” you licked your lips “This means to find Abaddon was...”

“A person.” he completed your sentence “Amara. She... she was the means to finding Abaddon. I was given the accords to where I would find her and I visited her, talked to her about the case and all. She could within an hour predict her every move if we showed her where she'd been before or who she'd killed. We've had many close calls with Abaddon, each time finding her only thanks to Amara's help until in the very end I got her and I was able to kill her, putting an end to all of it.”

“But?” you whispered with a frown, fearing to hear what he could have to say next. The thought of what those consequences were making your heart ache for the green-eyed man.

“But it was far from the end.” he chewed on his lower lip “She wasn't going to help me just for my charming smile...” he trailed off, a deep frown on his face as he rubbed his temple with a frustrated sigh. For a moment you felt bad for him, sure he might have kept secrets from you but you saw it now, it was to protect you and maybe protect himself as well. This had been troubling him as well, obviously for much longer than you, and it only made you want to drop the subject altogether. He wasn't ready to talk about it, not yet at least, about the part that involved his role in this story because it was actually painful for him.

“Well, I know I would do a lot of things for that charming smile.” you said with a casual shrug, smiling softly to cheer him up and maybe drop the subject. It wasn't time yet and for a moment it worked because he breathed out a chuckle.

“Don't flirt with me, it's distracting.” he looked at you through his lashes, and whether you wanted it or not you felt your chest feel lighter and your smile get bigger.

“As if you don't distract me enough, yourself.” you scoffed with a smirk and soon a boyish grin broke on his lips.

“Do I, now?” he raised an eyebrow, biting his lower lip “Interesting information, then, just what I need to use to my advantage.”

“Oh please don't, it's not like I can get you out of my mind as it is.” you breathed out with a shake of your head and a wonderful laugh left his lips. A kind of laugh you had not hear in actually a while and that warmed your chest more than you realized was possible.

“I...” you blinked before closing your eyes in embarrassment when he laughed wholeheartedly “Probably shouldn't have said that out loud.”

“Man, I should get more bottles of that wine!” he grinned and you scoffed, kicking his legs with your good one.

“Whatever you say, not like I'm gonna drink it.” you scoffed, playing with your fingers “Dean-” you were ready to tell him to not insist on the matter, not now at least, but he beat you at speaking.

“I know- I understand that you want to talk about it, I'm sorry, I'm getting out track, I should-”

“No” you were the one to cut him off this time “No, I want to talk about it but... not like this. Not if you're not ready, I can understand now that things are bigger than me, bigger than the both of us. I- I mean, someone I thought was my family turned out is involved in all of this worse than any of you all together so I... I should probably wait before I can know everything.”

“But you asked for-”

“It was a term. But I didn't state when. Besides, I don't think I will be able to take more.” but deep down it was a lie, because you weren't protecting yourself, you knew you were only protecting him. It came naturally and it was all because of your feelings for him that, quite honestly, you could never fight.

His lips parted before he closed his mouth again, giving you a weak nod “Alright.” he whispered hesitantly “Alright, and I... promise you from now on there will be no more secrets to add to that.

“Sounds perfect to me.” you whispered, leaning in to peck his cheek before you could stop yourself.

~*~

“You know, if I didn't know how awesome the water pressure in there is I would seriously question the sounds you were making.” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice but at that moment, and in that very situation, you were too busy jumping like a scared cat with a loud squeak when you saw the doorhandle move to care.

“No, Dean, don't-”

“I brought some new... blankets.” he ended up whispering with wide eyes, blinking as you scurried to grab the towl and cover yourself up. Or at least as much as you could of your bare upper half, thankful for at least the blue panties covering your lower half.

“Son of a bitch, Dean!” you squealed, closing your eyes as your entire face burned in embarrassment “Do you really have no idea what knocking means?!”

“I- I-” his eyes trailed up and down your body, his lips parted as he gave you that subtle and suggestive smile “Apparently not.”

“Dean” you groaned “This is not the right time.” you grumbled, eyes casted down in shyness.

“Is it not?” he nodded his head, licking his lips and humming “Hm and here I was being hopeful we'd go back to ur kind of normal.”

“We are, we really are, but that doesn't mean you can be so casual staring at me nearly naked!” you protested, your voice slightly high pitched as he grinned at you “Damn it! Stop staring!” you squeaked out, cradling the towel close to your chest but it didn't deter him. If anything, not only did he not remove his eyes from you but also took a couple steps closer you, letting the blankets fall on the bed.

“Why?” he asked in a low husky voice “I don't think there is a reason to. If anything-” he approached you until your back was pressed against the wall “All beautiful things must be admired, right?”

“Yeah. Right.” you scoffed, looking down at your hands bitterly.

“Hey” he placed two fingers under your chin, tilting your head up so that you could meet his eyes “Don't you dare defy a Federal agent, I have the means to prove you wrong and oh-” he bit his lower lip “I'd love to.”

“I'm not that special, anyway.”

It was his turn to scoff as he placed a hand over yours “Sweetheart, if only you could see what I do.” he whispered and you let him take a full hold of both your hands in his, bring them up to his lips for a soft kiss on the knuckles. His eyes held such intensity that you didn't care that the towel fell down on your feet, which made a soft smile form on his lips. His eyes trailed down and despite how your face was bright red you made no move to hide yourself from his intense gaze.

“Gorgeous” he whispered, looking up in your eyes again with a tender smile and you chewed on your lower lip, shaking your head; making him give you a firm look “Don't make me do it.”

“You wouldn't want to-”

“God, you have no idea how bad I just really want to kiss you right now.” he breathed out in a hoarse voice and your eyebrows raised softly in innocence.

“Then... why won't you? You-” you bit your lower lip “You pulled away too soon this morning, I really wished you would do it again. Despite what I said.”

A boyish grin formed on his lips “Damn” he breathed out in awe “You're amazing.” and with that, he cupped your face and pressed his lips hard against yours and eliciting a soft trembling breath from you. You hesitated at first but your arms trailed up his chest and wrapped around his neck, letting your bodies press close together and when he wrapped a hand around your bare waist you shivered under his touch.

You took the courage to start kissing back harder, licking his lower lip and he gladly granted you access. His tongue toyed with yours as his full lips moved against yours. You were temped to bit them and you realized you actually did when you heard him moan softly. Dean's hand moved to your thigh and as he pressed you against the wall he brought it up to wrap around his waist, his hips pushing yours back as a response to you grinding on him.

Dean licked your lips, savoring the sweet taste that he didn't have the mind to savor the first time. He moaned in pleasure when threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged at it. He held both your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting you off the ground and carrying you on the bed, all the while your lips not pulling apart for a second. He layed you on the mattress, his body pressing softly on top of you as his hands held your hips.

“I've dreamed about you.” he whispered roughly in between the kisses “Wanted you. Ever since we first met, I was a gonner. Don't know how you did it but damn you got me sweetheart.” he mumbled against your skin as he licked and sucked on your neck now, he chuckled softly “I couldn't stop thinking about you.”

“It's easy to understand-” the voice was a low whisper “You simply cannot resist me.” but with those words it was crystal clear... it wasn't yours. No just by the words that would actually never leave your beautiful lips but also because the voice was 100% not yours.

As if electricity shot right through him, Dean's eyes snapped wide open and he pulled away faster than he ever had in his life. He stared with wide eyes as she casually rested her weight on the bed on her elbows, tilting her head softly and raising an eyebrow softly. Dean shook his head furiously, his breath having caught in his lungs and his eyes wide.

“No, no it's impossible.” he said in a gruff voice “No! (Y/n)-”

“Is it?” she breathed out “It doesn't seem like it to me. After all-” she shrugged “No matter how much you want to...” she got serious, dangerously so “You can't escape me. And neither will she.”

Dean awoke with a jolt, his eyes wide and his chest heaving as he tried to get as much air as possible in his lungs. His heart hammered inside his chest, painfully so, as if it wanted to break out of his ribcage and he clenched the blankets firmly in his fists. His eyes roamed around the room, trying to convince himself it was only a dream but it just had been far too real. Trembling he fell back on the bed, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes before dragging a hand down his face.

He clenched his jaw as the fear started creeping up his chest because he was fully aware that it sadly wasn't just a nightmare but a promise. Directly said by her or not, it was the bitter and very scary truth. And Dean knew he had to do something about it, before you got hurt beyond repair.

~The following morning~

“No, Cas, I can't just fucking wait!” Dean growled, pacing around in his room “He can't have just disappeared like that, we're a small town for fuck's sake.” he grumbled, listening to his friend on the other end “Tell your brother to get his shit together or so help me! I-” he took a deep breath, lowering his voice when he realized he could wake you up “I want him to have news on him by the end of the day, got it?” he ended the call with a frustrated sigh, dragging a hand down his face.

He turned around to make his way to the door but stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you resting your weight against the doorframe “So... disappeared huh?” you whispered in a hoarse voice.

“Did I wake you up?” he whispered with a frown but you shook your head.

“No, I couldn't sleep much anyway. I just heard you talking and I- I got a little worried... No luck huh?”

Trying to swallow the lump in his throat he tore his eyes away from your form and nodded his head “I texted him last night but got no reply and when I tried to track his phone it didn't lead anywhere. I called Cas just in case but... nobody's seen Chuck ever since last morning.”

“Of course.” you pursed your lips, nodding your head sadly as you looked down at your feet “Figures. Every man sooner or later leaves me anyway.” you laugh humorlessly and he clenched his jaw, glaring at you.

“Don't say that.” he was completely serious.

You shook your head with a smile “It's alright, Dean, honest. I'm just- Worried we are not going to get an end to this, that's all.”

“Sweetheart” he sighed, striding to you and placing two hands on your shoulders “I'm going to end this, I promise you, no matter what it takes I am going to save you. Even if I have to go through hell, I don't care what it takes, I won't let her close to you again.”

You gave him a weak smile “I know you will, I don't doubt that anymore.”

“Good and-” he took a deep breath “Just so you know... I never would.”

You frowned at him for a second before realization down on you and you looked at your feet with a sheepish smile “I suppose.” you mumbled, missing the hurt look that flashed through his eyes at your disbelief “But something else, more important, take your time. Just- take your time, ok? Don't... lose your sleep over this, my knight in shining armor needs the rest after all.”

He wanted to smile but his heart felt too heavy inside his chest “You heard me, didn't you?”

You sighed, looking down at your feet “I had gone for a glass of water and I- I accidentally heard you, yeah. I know that nightmares can be really tough sometimes and I- I just-” you pursed your lips, shrugging “How bad was it?”

“Nothing I can't handle. You don't have to do this to yourself.”

“But it still doesn't change the fact that I am the reason behind it. Dean-” you sighed “I can understand that you want to help me, and I'm... really happy about it. I've had my doubts and I won't lie I still do up to some point, but you gotta take care of yourself as well. If you don't then, as much as the feminist in me hates it, we're both screwed.”

“Alright.” he nodded his head “Alright, I hear you... I'll try my best.”

“Not what I wanted to hear but I guess I'll take that.” you nodded your head “Ok detective, let's put that aside for now and focus on more important topics. After all, when it doubt. Eat!”

A chuckle inevitably left his lips, as he shook his head with a fond smile “Woman of my heart.”

“If you have anything in mind, we could cook and-”

“Yeah about that.” he cut you off, his smile falling “I need to be at the station in less than 30 minutes, so I'm afraid there won't be any time for that. But on the bright side-” he smirked “You'll get to see me in action.”

“That... can have a double meaning.”

~8 hours later~

“All I asked for was some safety, some security, have you close again to feel alright.” you huffed, closing your eyes and wanting to rub your temple but it was actually impossible in your current position “This is not what I bargained for.”

“Sweetheart-” his voice came slightly restrained as well, and the movement of his hips against yours got a groan from you “Trust me, if I could have it any other way I would gladly take the option.”

“Would you now?” your said slightly out of breath, the smirk evident in your voice and Dean grinned on his own.

“Hmh” he licked his lips “No, no actually I wouldn't.” and him shifting made you bite your lip.

“Detective” your voice came out equally strained “Not that I don't like the position we're in right now, cause oh trust me I do.”

“Really huh?” the smugness in his voice made you glare at him.

“Dean” you hissed his name but couldn't fight a moan when his hands squeezed your hips.

“Sorry, just kinda got distracted. Tryin' to realize this is not a dream is kinda hard.” he gave you a chuckle that died out too soon but you actually laughed, letting your head fall on his shoulder.

“There better be no pun intended, detective. And speaking of which-” you bit your lower lip “Please tell me that is your gun.”

A small pause followed and Dean didn't give you even a small laugh before he whispered in a husky voice that made shivers run down your spine “And... what if it's not?”

~~~

A/N: Chapter 10 is here and there are only fie parts left! This is probably half the truth that Dean kept from the Reader and the rest will be revealed just as soon! For the moment I hope you enjoy this! Feedback is welcomed and tags are still very much open in case you want to be added! Just let me know.

@getlostinthedark @cap-just-said-language @catwithyellowwings @word-scribbless @carryon-doctor-lock @nightriver99 @timelady1140 @spideyxstan @agentstarkid @all-will-be-well-love @simpleboox @jaylarkson @cookiechipdough @alltimekp @a-dorky-book-keeper @givemebooksorgivemedeath @skeletoresinthebasement @sammy201d @akshi8278 @amandamdiehl @hobby27 @deans-baby-momma @musiclover1263 @feelmyroarrrr @sofreddie @skymoonandstardust @babygabrielle-blog @woodworthti666 @gunpowder-and-smoke-inofficial @erule @lizwinchester16 @itslunabitches @itsquies @justkending @fiftyshadesofrebel @love-my-not-natural-babies @outsider-underwater @deanmonandnegansbitch @kaylinfayezink @x-waywardaf-x @keshaia @moonlight-on-her-skin @happy-little-marvel

[talpup]

Lost Song: 1

Summary: The war between the Dragons and Griffons ended 233 years ago, and both races right along with it.

Or so it was believed. There are three individuals that will soon change that.

Kai is the last of the Dragons and he seeks to take what he sees as his rightful place and rule over all of Oblvi. Meanwhile, Shouta, the last Sphinx, wants nothing more than to do his job; keep the peace and and teach the young Fourth’s to hopefully avoid the mistakes of their ancestors. And Teris, a Foundling who is just trying to understand and survive in this strange new world that is supposedly her own.

All three have their own wants and desires, but Kai’s plans, Teris’ existence, and Shouta's past mean that none of them may get what they want.

***So this fic will have a LOT more world building than my others.   Please feel free to comment. For those who have read my Chaos fic, yes, I'm reusing the term Oblvi.  Words are hard and I liked the term; but this fic isn't connected to Chaos.  The same goes for reader/oc's name being Teris.   She's not the same Teris from Erase the Shadow.

This fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.

If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24009679

Special thank you to @inorganicone2230 who knows of my love for the mythic and encouraged me to start this fic without stressing about the other two I’ve got going.  Your friendship means the world to me.  And I can’t wait to go down the rabbit hole of ideas with in for this fic.

1.1

“What do you mean she wants to give him back!”

The Arbitrators snarl caused the already nervous Miyashita to hiccup and vanish.  With a swallow the Changeling slowly reappeared.

“I—it—it is not a matter of want.”  The nervous Sprite responded.  “Rather a matter of necessity.”

The Arbitrator glared at the little man seated across from his desk.  As a rule, Enji didn’t trust things he couldn’t look in the eye.  So it didn’t help his annoyance that he had to stretch his back and lean slightly forward in order to see the Changeling given that the Sprites forehead barely reached the level of the desks polished surface.

“Explain.” Enji demanded when the Sprite showed no sign of going on.

“Well, ah, you see--”  Miyashita stalled looking every where but at the frightful Manticore.

Enji growled his impatience, struggling to keep his human form.  To think that this little gnat had had the nerve to chitter at him for offering a book on which to boost his child-like frame upon.

“The thing is.”  Miyashita went on with carefully.  “Her Ladyship would not be able keep the Reaping even if she wanted, for he is not human.”

Not human!  Enji blinked.  A second Foundling in as many days.  This was just great.  At least the first, a woman, hadn’t been discovered during a Changeling Reaping.  Though Enji couldn’t decide if that was worse or better.  In any case, this would certainly garner the Council’s attention.  Something nobody wanted.

1.2

“Aizawa. Please, come in.”  Nedzu beckoned.

Shouta stepped into the Director of Traverseen Halls office and closed the door.  At the sight of Yagi and Todoroki, Shouta’s shoulders slightly tensed.  Thankfully, in human form his black hair was long enough to cover his neck and no one noticed the brief rise of his heckles.

“Please. Take a seat.  We have much to discuss.”  Director Nedzu urged.

Shouta did so choosing to take the open chair near the Arbitrator rather than Toshinori.  Sinking into the too soft seat, Shouta tried to think of any trouble his class of 1-A might have caused last time they were in town.  It was the only explanation he could think of for why both the area Arbitrator and Toshinori, the area Elder, were here.

Coal black eyes on the Director, Shouta questioned.  “What’s this about?  I have class in twelve minutes.”

“This will take longer than twelve minutes I’m afraid.  But there’s no need to worry about your students.  I sent Nemuri to cover your class.”  Nedzu told.

Shouta's eyes narrowed.  Though the animal looking creature tried to sound his usual chipper self, he could hear a tight telling of concern in the Hybrid’s voice.  The Sphinx sniffed.  His pure blood and Nedzu’s overly mixed meant that he could smell it too.

He wondered if Todoroki could smell Nedzu’s unease.  While dragons, griffons, and sphinx's were the most ancient of beasts; manticore's were older than most.  It afforded the species better honed senses, especially if they were pure bloods.  Something Arbitrator Todoroki was overly proud of.  Honestly, Shouta was surprised the respect Todoroki showed a hybrid like Nedzu, whose lineage was so mixed and mutated that even Nedzu himself couldn’t say what all he was.

Unlike pure bloods, hybrids carried remnants of their true form over into their human form.  The more muddled ones blood became the more remnants got carried over.  Nedzu’s lineage was so mixed that he couldn’t alter the image of the humanoid animal he appeared as. And given the fact that Fourth’s who couldn’t change into more human-like forms were thought of as less at best, Nedzu had faced a hard life.  Not that one could tell by his usually bright personality.

“Tea.” Nedzu offered the three men seated before his desk.

Enji and Shouta shook their heads, while Toshinori politely took a cup.

Curiosity and impatience getting the better of him, Shouta spoke up.  “Sir. I ask again.  What is this about?”

Nedzu set down the tea pot.  “That’s why I like you, Aizawa.  Focused. Straight to the point.  Something that was rarely found in your species.”

“I wouldn’t know.”  Shouta deadpanned.  He was the last of his kind. Locked in stone as a cub and found long after the dragons and griffons thought they had extinguish his species.

Enji huffed, crossing his arms.  He felt no sympathy for Aizawa's loss. The way he saw it it was sphinx-kinds own fault for not siding with the dragons.

Toshinori lowered his cup of tea.  The reminder of what dragon and griffon kind had done when the sphinx's refused to chose a side in the Dragon-Griffon War still sat ill with him despite him having served the griffons.

Nedzu knew well enough that Aizawa wasn’t seeking sympathy or calling anyone out for their past allegiances.  The Sphinx was merely stating a fact.  “Arbitrator, if you would.”

Enji uncrossed his arms.  “A week and half ago, the Changeling Queen of a local clan visited Terra for a sanctioned Reaping.  Unfortunately she couldn’t keep her claim as the being she reaped turned out not to be a Fourth.”

“A foundling Fourth.”  Shouta mused.  “Irregular to find one young enough that it hasn’t realized what it is, but not impossible. Sprites more than any other Fourth like to mess with humans.  Despite the Council’s laws, Changeling’s will find a way to trade their young for human children.”

“As a member of the Ilca it’s your job to stop them.”  Enji rumbled.

“Your opinion of me flatters.  But I’m only one sphinx.  I can’t be everywhere.”  Shouta stared at the reddening Arbitrator a moment before going on.  “Besides, some Fourth foundling isn’t what this is about.  Such a clear and simple breach of Council law wouldn’t interest both you or the area Elder.”  He glanced passed Todoroki to Yagi.  “So I ask again.  What is this about?”

Shouta realized he was being rude but he didn’t care.  He had a class to get to.  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Nemuri not to let 1-A run rampant...okay, that was precisely it.

Not one to be rushed by anyone, and certainly not some member of the Ilca, Enji went on.  “The Foundling the Changeling Queen reaped is a man.  Obviously young.  Says he’s twenty-nine.  Likely a hybrid of sprite and spirit.  Though time will tell exactly which species his lineage is.  But that’s not all.  The day prior to that a trader whose license allows him to bring goods in and out of Terra returned with a Foundling of his own.  A woman.  The trader was a Derrick, said he sensed the presence of a Fourth and followed it discovering an unconscious woman in an alley.  Unable to rouse her and finding no pass that allowed her to be in Terra he brought her back with his load.  Since the woman claims she doesn’t know the Derrick and only regained consciousness once here we had no way of verifying his story.  Derrick’s are tricksy creatures--”

“They’re a benevolent species known for pranks of little harm.”  Shouta interrupted.

“That hardly means the Derrick is telling the truth.”  Enji bristled.

Rather than argue, Shouta looked across to Yagi.  “What does the area Elder think?”

Toshinori set down the tea cup.  “I believe him.  The Derrick has no reason to lie.”

Enji scoffed.  Yagi might be a powerful Talos, but he was too kind.  Too trusting.  The Elder’s compassionate, charitable nature made him weak in Enji’s eyes.  He would've been a better Elder.  The area needed a firmer, less accepting leader.

Shouta smirked into his scarf-like piece that served as restraints and a weapon of sorts.  He had never really cared for the boisterous, attention hungry Elder.  But if they insisted on making him late for class, the least he could do was irk the Manticore by reminding him of his lesser place to Yagi.

The Sphinx fixed his gaze on Nedzu.  “As intriguing as all this is, Sir.  What does it have to do with me or Traverseen Hall in general?”

“Both Foundlings are to be trained and placed in your Ilca.”

Shouta's mouth opened.  He worked alone.  And with good reason.  Though the species divided by the Dragon-Griffon War were slowly coming back together, there was one species.  One person.  That they all hated. Him.

“I know what you’re thinking.”  Nedzu said.

“Do you?”  Shouta asked.

“The Foundlings don’t know about our history.  They won’t care that you’re a sphinx.”

“I work alone.”  Shouta said.

“Correction. You <em>worked</em> alone.”

Shouta frowned into his scarf-like piece at Todoroki’s taunting words.

Yagi cleared his throat.  Only he, Todoroki, and Nedzu knew that the woman was a griffon.  But if she was to be part of Aizawa's Ilca, he thought it important for the Sphinx to know.

Sensing the Elder's plan, Nedzu spoke up. “Discovering what either of them are is of secondary consequence at the present.  Neither of them remember anything about who they truly are, if they ever knew in the first place.  They didn’t even know Oblvi existed and therefore know nothing of our world.  The goal is to see that they have the tools and ability to survive.”

“And you don’t think making them part of my Ilca is counter productive to their survival?”  Shouta questioned, levelly.  Just being part of his Ilca would make things unnecessarily difficult on them when it came to making acquaintances, never mind friends.

Nedzu ignored the query.  “Seeing as you have a full schedule teaching and being an active Ilca, I have ordered Oboro to instruct and train the male Foundling.  And Kai do to the same with the female.”

Kai. Shouta's teeth pressed together at the mention of the Dragon.  “So you think she’s a beast of some kind?”

Nedzu nodded.  “She’s certainly not a spirit, sprite, or demon.”

Shouta sighed.  At least she was of the same division as he.  But the other Foundling?  It wasn’t that he had anything against spirits or sprites…

Still ill at ease about keeping the truth of the woman’s lineage from the Council, Enji stated.  “Yagi and I have spoken with the Council. They are eager to learn exactly what kind of Fourth’s the two are.”

Boisterous voice taking on a more serious edge, Yagi told Aizawa.  “I’m more concerned with seeing that these two learn how to survive and don’t inadvertently hurt someone.  Proper instruction and first hand experience are vital to that.  Sending them out with an Ilca member will give them both.  Especially if that Ilca member is an accomplished teacher.”

Shouta disregarded the compliment, silently cursing the Elder’s reasonable thinking.  Tiresome as it was, the idea was logical.  The two foundlings clearly weren’t some young-lings to be enrolled in the Ilca course at Traverseen Hall.  A three year sedate course of learning would only be a danger to themselves and others.  Being older their power would be greater.  They needed to learn to control it as quickly as possible.  While throwing them into the fire might seem a recipe for disaster.  It was only rational way to assure their power displayed itself and force them to control it.

Still, Shouta didn’t like being saddled with two members to his Ilca.  As much as he liked teaching, he worked alone.  Not to mention the hassle and danger of not knowing what kind of Fourth’s they were.

As if reading his mind, Nedzu said.  “Aside from basic base instincts, once they learn and begin to display their inherent abilities, we will be able to narrow down what kind of Fourth’s they are.”

Shouta nodded in agreement.  While a particular species instinct didn’t always run true or as strong for every Fourth of that species; that, combined with the inherent abilities, should give them a better idea of what kind of Fourth they were.  They already knew the divisions of the two.  Beast for the woman.  And spirit and sprite for the man. The next step would be to learning what phylum they were part of, then class, followed by order, tribe, genus, and finally species.

Shouta cursed his own species inherent love of puzzles and riddles.  Even if given a choice by the three seated around him, he wouldn’t have been able to say no to such a tempting mystery.

“I’ll take them.”

1.3

A knock on Kai’s office door sounded.  “Enter.”

Teris eyed the man that had escorted her, slowly walking passed him to enter the room.

“Kai. The Foundling female.”  Hari introduced.

“I have a name.”  Teris snapped.  She looked to the man behind the desk, her breath catching in her throat.

Kai’s head shot up, gold eyes lifting.  The aura she gave off.  The prideful power…

Teris chalked her hammering heart and tingling senses up to the events of the last three days and not the man seated before her.  “Where’s Hizashi?”

“Who?”

“The other Foundling.”  Hari explained.

Kai’s disappointment was palatable.  For a moment he had thought.  Had hoped that she was a dragon.  Just the feeling of ancient, unbridled power she gave had excited and thrilled him.  But that excitement and interest diminished in an instant.  Dragons weren’t pack Fourth’s and whatever this woman was, she clearly was if she cared enough to ask about the other Foundling whereabouts.

Setting aside the quill, Kai closed pushed away the stack of orders.  “The other Foundling will be learning with those from his own division. You will be learning with yours.”

“Beasts.” Teris said, pulling the word from memory.  A lot had been said to her and Hizashi these last few days, it was hard to remember and keep it all straight.

“At least you’re not completely oblivious.”  Kai muttered under his breath.

“I have a three masters and was close to getting my doctorate before--” Teris stopped.  These people.  These things didn’t need to know about her abduction and trouble she had escaped from before being found and brought over.  More over being taken was a sign of weakness and every instinct she had was telling her not to appear weak before this golden eyed man.

“Your Terra education will be of little good here.”  Kai dismissed, not at all surprised she had heard him.  Excellent hearing was a trait of most beasts.  Simmering eyes focused on her.  “Though I can appreciate your obvious interest in learning.  I myself enjoy the endeavor of bettering not just my body but my mind.”

If her world hadn’t been turned upside down, Teris might've remarked that his body didn’t require any bettering; but she kept the passing thought to herself.

“Let’s start properly, shall we.  I am Chisaki Kai.  That’s Kurono Hari.”

“And what kind of creatures—Fourth’s are you?”

“That’s impolite to ask.”  Hari grumbled.

Kai held up a staying hand.  “True.  But forgivable.  I’m a dragon. Hari’s an arepyiai.  And you are?”

“I—I don’t know.”  A part of her still wondered if she should be here. The other, great part, still questioning if this was all real. Maybe she was still back in that cell.  Her abductors…

“Why don’t we start with your name.”  Kai suggested.

“Nova. Teris.”

“And may I call you Teris?”

Teris nodded.

“Good. You may call me Kai.  What don’t you show me your true form.”

Teris’ hand pressed to her shirt collar.  “M—my what?”

“Hari.” Kai commanded.

Hari changed into his true form.  It was a startling sight.  Unlike more ancient Fourth’s, arepyiai’s were far from beautiful.  More horrid miss-mash of the two root species that arepyiai stemmed from. He had the bird-like lower body of a harpy, along with their smaller wings.  While his torso was lion-like with the head of an eagle, showing the griffon part of his species lineage.

Teris jumped back.

Kai noted her quickness even in human form, adding it to the list of telling things about her that would eventually reveal what she was. “Your turn.”

“I—I can’t do that.”

“Afraid there’s not enough room?  Don’t worry.  Traverseen Hall was built with dwarf magic.  The room was made to accommodate Fourth’s in their true from.  It will expand as much as required.”  Kai offered.

“That’s… Not what I meant.”

Kai sighed.  It was foolish to think it would be so easy.  “Fine.  We met.  I will teach you.  Be back here first thing in the morning.”

It wasn’t as if he had much of a choice.  The Rat, Nedzu, hadn’t given him a choice.

“That’s it.”  Teris blinked.

Hari already back in human form, had the door open, ushering arm extended.

“The day is nearly done and I have work to do.”  Kai stated.

He couldn’t help a small smile.  She was pretty.  And if she was bright enough to have three masters from Terra, she might be a welcome diversion from the rigors of his goal.

Hari returned shortly after seeing her out.  “What do you think?”

“Too soon to tell.  But whatever she is, her species is old.  It’s inconvenient.  Having her around.  Even if it’s just during the day.”

“Wonder if the Rat suspects.”

Kai shook Hari’s concern away.  “Even if Nedzu suspects anything.  A Foundling would make for a terrible spy.  She doesn’t know enough about anything to find something out of sorts.”

“Even so.  I’ll order the rest of the Ilca to be careful when she’s around.”

Kai nodded, pleased.  He was just glad that his Ilca had a full complement of eight and the Foundling couldn’t be assigned to it. That definitely would've made his plans all the more difficult.  He had the thought of teaching her the old way.  The true and right way of things.

“Whose Ilca was she placed in?”

“Aizawa's.”

Kai frowned at that.  The thought of teaching her suddenly became all the more appealing.

I write for my own enjoyment, but edit and post for yours.  If you enjoyed reading this at all please comment and let me know.  It’s the only thing that encourages me to keep editing and posting.

[fockmeuprealgood]

The Bird’s Song - 8

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x OC

Warnings: violence, romance, slow burn, fluff, ptsd, angst

Description: Adelia is near the end when the Avengers save her from a Leviathan compound. She gets thrown into the world of superheroes when the Avengers try to figure out who she is and why she was a prisoner in the first place.

____________________________________________________________________________

I woke up to an anxious pit in my stomach. Lifted my eyelids, I didn’t even have to glance at the clock to know that it was too early in the morning. I rolled over to my side and took in the warmth of my bed for a second longer. I didn’t want to leave my bed, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to fall back into my dreams.

I pushed myself up and planted my feet onto the cool floor and wondered over to the closet. I picked out another simple Avengers grade tee shirt and yoga pants that were provided to me. I combed my hands through my hair as I slipped my shoes on and made my way down to the workshop.

I decided it would be better to try and get a head start on the projects Tony’s given me, rather than waste the morning away lying in bed or watching the tv.

On my way down I made sure to stop by the main common room to grab a cup of coffee. Sipping on the black drink as I wandered down to the workshop. I quickly gained access through F.R.I.D.A.Y. and sat down at my station to begin organizing my tools.

This was always the best part for me, besides seeing the end product of something I had been working one. Sorting myself out and laying all the tools on the table relaxed me in a way. I was able to control where each piece went and why. It gave me a sense of a little stability.

I picked up the closest gadget to me and got to work.

I must have lost myself in my tinkering because I was startled when two big forms appeared across the table in front of me. I slowly lifted my gaze from the device I was working on up to the figures in front of me.

Steve stood in front of me, dressed in his dark blue tactical suit and covered in dirt and sweat. Bucky Barnes stood a few feet off his shoulder, in the same condition, dressed in black tactical gear. His black and gold arm glinted in the bright lights I had turned on before I started working.

It didn’t take a genius to assume that they had just gotten back from their mission Sam had mentioned.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. said you were down here,” Steve turned to look at Bucky, then back to you. “I came to drop my shield off, and he needs some help with his arm.”

Steve didn’t even bother asking why I was up so early. I looked over his shield that it was in dire need of a new paint job at least. Bullet scuffs covered the front, the red and blue paint was chipped.

“I don’t need help with my arm,” Bucky grumbled. “It’s fine.”

I turned to look at the metal limb. I couldn’t tell how hard Bucky was trying to control it, but I watched the vibranium hand move. Covered in a fingerless glove, the hand twitched and the fingers slightly bent out of Bucky’s control at his side.

“Does that look fine to you?” Steve asked as I observed the abnormalities of the movements.

I shook my head.

I looked up at his face, but he just continued to stare at Steve. I had never seen the former Winter Soldier in real life, and I never would have thought I would be looking at his arm for him. Even though I knew he wasn’t brainwashed anymore, it still made my heart jump a little to think about the things Hydra made him do. How they turned him into a killer.

I shifted my gaze back to Steve and stood from my seat. I cleared my work space, then patted the seat I previously occupied. Steve took the green light and slowly herded Bucky around the table and forced him to sit.

Bucky grumbled again, but reluctantly gave in and placed his prosthetic arm on the table. I swiftly got the work, carefully stepping around in front of him and placed my hands onto the smooth metal. I believed the faster I got this done and the quicker he got out of here, the happier he would be when he finally got to leave.

I located a blown fuse near the elbow of the prosthetic and rushed around the workshop to grab any materials I might need. As I worked anxiously, Steve kept up some small talk, aimlessly wondering around the room, poking at things left out on the tables.

I gave enough of an answer to keep Steve happy while also trying to pay attention to my work. At some point, he got a call from Director Fury, notifying him that he was needed for a debriefing meeting. Steve assured Bucky that he didn’t need to go and that he would be back soon.

Bucky just seemed to mope around after Steve left, it felt even more uncomfortable now that Steve wasn’t here to kill the silence with conversation fillers. I quietly melted pieces of metal together and replaced a wire and fuse in his arm. I wasn’t even sure if he could feel pain through the metal arm, but if he did, he didn’t let on.

I worked for a while before I finally stopped the spasms. I had Bucky lift and stretch his arm, flex it, wiggle his fingers, to make sure he had a full range of motion. He never said more than a sentence at a time, often responding to my short questions with grunts and just a yes or no.

I related to him in that way. I assumed that he was like me in the regard that he didn’t talk to many people, and would only have small conversations with familiar people, or I felt that way at least.

I relaxed a little once Steve returned, Bucky also seemed to notice his presence and untensed himself as well. I wasn’t sure if he could tell how stiff I was while I worked on him, but I was definitely a little uncomfortable when I could feel his eyes on me, watching me. It made me slightly nervous, I didn’t want to make a mistake or hurt him, or I didn’t want to see how he would react if I did.

I set down the soldering iron I used to melt the final pieces of his arm and began to pack away the unused materials.

“Adelia, um, Wanda made everyone breakfast. I thought I would extend the invitation to you.” Steve spoke. His eyes pleaded with me a little as I looked at him. He seemed to think that I was going to decline his offer, he wouldn’t be wrong since the idea crossed my mind. I would much rather hole myself in the workshop, work until my fingers were numb.

I let out a soft sigh and tilted my head to the side. “I guess I’ll give it a go, Sam’s going too?”

“Yeah, Sam’s already there.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bucky roll his eyes at the mention of Sam. He must not have been a big fan of the witty Falcon. The three of us silently made our way up to the common room. I made sure to keep Steve between Bucky and I in the elevator, he still made me anxious even after spending a whole half hour alone with him.

Exiting the elevator, our footsteps were soon buried by the sound of laughter and talking. Coming around the corner, some of the Avengers were scattered around the kitchen and table. Sam was cracking jokes with Clint and Wanda.

I approached the empty end of the table and placed my small body in the corner seat, farthest from the others. Steve ended up taking the seat that was diagonal from me, and Bucky sat on the other side of him, even farther from me.

Steve and I kept up some small talk and soon enough Sam came to join us, placing a big bowl of scrambled eggs on the table along with the rest of the food platters that already decorated the table. He sat to my side, across from Steve. I let the two start up their own conversation as I dished out food onto my plate and began to pick at my breakfast.

My eyes wandered passed Steve and landed on Bucky. I watched as he began to eat off of his own heaping plate. He sat with his big shoulders hunched over, as if he was trying to make himself smaller. He also didn’t participate in any conversations, letting the other more talkative members of the group blabber on.

I noticed that he was paying attention to the people around him, he would clench his jaw when Sam laughed just a little too loudly or when Tony called out to him and Steve from the other end of the table, calling Bucky some clever nickname, his eyebrows would scrunch together.

I pondered with myself, I felt that it was so odd that this man was once the Winter Soldier, and that he was once the Bucky Barnes from the 1940’s. I had heard stories about him from back then, that he was once very flirty and charming, outgoing. Now he was broody and reserved.

Throughout the meal, my eyes would drift back to him as I listened to Sam talk about his wings. Bucky just kept to himself and minded his own business. Soon after, most people were done eating, I watched Bucky out of the corner of my eye, excuse himself and quietly disappear behind the wall that lead to the elevator.

____________________________________________________________________________

Yay! We finally meet Bucky for the first time. I’m going to switch to posting every other day instead of everyday from now on with this story. Thank you for reading!

[julia-highstorms]

Closer: Part Two (Bryce x Rei (F!MC))

Summary: Bryce Lahela can't deny the growing affection he's been feeling to a certain medical intern...

Author’s note: We already know how Rei really feels about Bryce… but how the medical intern really feels about her? Read Part One here. My masterlist

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry Studios.

Song: Closer - Tegan and Sara

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Bryce x F!MC (Rei Sato)

Word count: 2527

I want you close, I want you

I won't treat you like you're typical

He soon noticed the woman striding toward him.

It was becoming just impossible to not notice Rei Sato. Maybe it was her long, dark and purple hair. Or those brown innocent eyes that she had. Or that soft and so kissable mouth of hers.

The truth was that, before he even had realised it, Bryce Lahela’s eyes were instinctively searching for Rei through the crowd. It didn’t matter where he was, at the hospital, or out in the city. He was just always secretly hoping to meet her.

So yeah, his already elevated ego got a boost when he saw her coming toward his direction. Of course she was coming to talk to him. Even with Donahue's packed like that, he simply knew she was.

Bryce was fully aware that he wasn’t Rei’s only “secret admirer”. Jackie was a tough cookie, but she seemed to have a soft spot for Rei, always helping her roommate when she needed. The surgeon intern was a great observer and had noticed the way Jackie looked at Rei. It was similar to how Dr. Ethan Ramsey looked at his clearly favorite internal medicine intern, with fondness in his usually so serious and cold blue eyes. The new Director of Diagnostics had a tough and stoic facade and was known to be harsh with the interns. But Bryce noticed that the attendant had been gradually becoming more lenient towards Rei as they got... closer. He only saw the corners of Dr. Ramsey’s mouth turning upwards in an attempt of what was supposed to be a smile twice, and they both happened when the more experienced doctor was hurriedly talking to Rei about something, probably about her patients.

But she didn’t seem to notice Ramsey’s nor Jackie’s weaknesses towards herself. Bryce wasn’t sure if Rei’s naïveté was a good thing or not. The good part was that he wouldn’t need to worry much about competition - yes, even himself would feel threatened sometimes, especially by two people so smart and charming, on their own ways, like Dr. Jackie Varma and Dr. Ethan Ramsey -; but there was the risk of Rei not understanding that he was interested in her. So Bryce Lahela had to step up his game.

And that was part of why he flirted so blatantly with her. He wasn't ever sure if she would truly understand what he meant or not. If she understood that he was interested in her. Like, interested a lot.

But the fact that she was approaching him that night must have been a sign. Right?

“Are you sure you should be here, in the enemy’s headquarters?” - Bryce asked playfully, that signature smirk on his lips. - “I can feel Dr. Varma’s eyes shooting lasers through my back already.”

Rei just rolled her eyes to him, a small smile tugging on the corner of her lips, instantly feeling at ease by his presence. Although he and Jackie said those kind of things, she knew they shared a camaraderie and respected each other greatly.

“I just wanted to thank you. Uh, properly. For listening to me today. And all the other times.” - Rei completed, her cheeks flushing slightly. His grin widened.

“Glad to be at service. For someone who you medical interns claim to not have enough sympathy towards people, I’m a pretty damn good listener, ain’t I?” - she rolled her eyes again to his stupid and super sexy wink.

“You know, you’re more handsome with your mouth shut, Lahela.”

“Oh, so you find me handsome now?”

Of course he noticed that her face got another shade pinker under the neon lights of the bar, but he said nothing, just grinning pridefully to himself.

“You only hear what you want, don’t you?” - Rei murmured when she finally found her voice, and he laughed heartily.

"But you said you wanted to thank me… 'properly'?" - his eyes shined, a sly grin spreading on his face, as he leaned closer, one hand on the wall behind her.

“I… uh, yeah…” - she stuttered, her heart speeding up.

"And how do you intend to thank me?" - he asked suggestively, his eyes gazing to her lips.

"Uh..." - just kiss him. Yeah, go for it, just kiss him. No one will see. Nobody will care. You've already kissed him before. What's the big deal? Just kiss him! - "...I can buy you a drink?" - she asked instead.

Bryce hid his disappointment behind a relaxed grin.

"I'll never say no to free booze." - he winked at her again and they both headed towards the bar, his hand on the small of her back.

While Rei asked for their drinks to the barman, the surgical intern watched her, his thoughts drifting back to events that happened earlier that day.

Bryce was enjoying a little break after another successful surgery, when he saw Rei sneaking into a supply closet on the third floor. He knew instantly that something was off with her.

He knocked on the the supply closet's door and waited for an answer for a few seconds, but the answer never came. Without hesitation, he simply entered in there, even uninvited.

Rei didn't kick him out of there. In fact, she let him stay, next to her, and eventually told him what was upsetting her. They even had a moment, when the P.A. System’s voice suddenly echoed through the building, completely breaking the mood.

After checking that the message wasn't for neither of them, Rei relaxed again, sinking onto the floor next to him.

"Wow, you really are tense." - Bryce commented, watching her.

"Understatement of the century." - she took a deep breath, before muttering with a somber tone: - “I wouldn't be surprised if they were calling me because I misdiagnosed a patient."

"Hey, don't be like that--"

"It’s just so frustrating. I’ve thought that, as time passed, I’d be messing less on being a doctor. But it seems like the only thing I know to do is putting my patients on more danger than they already are.”

"I told you, Rei… you have to allow yourself to make mistakes--"

“I know." - she interrupted him again, gazing into his eyes. - "But I wonder if I’ll ever stop doing it." - he watched a frown surging on her pretty face. - "Will I ever be good enough? Will I ever be a good doctor?”

“You are good enough. If you weren’t, do you really think you’d be an Edenbrook Hospital’s intern? And you are a great doctor already, Rei. We’re always learning. Just because we’re close to be fully capable doctors who’ll save the world, it doesn’t mean that we’ll never make mistakes again. That we’ll save every single person that walks into this - or any - hospital. All we can do is do our best and I'm sure you're already doing it. I see how hard you work.”

She let out a snort.

"You don't even see me. I mean, you always are too busy, I don't know, cutting someone open."

Bryce pulled out, pretending to be offended.

"Is this what you think I do? I thought that, by now, your view on me would be better, Sato." - she giggled, feeling a bit better already, thanks to Bryce's words. And to his presence there. It was great being able to confide to him.

They both stood up, smoothing their uniforms.

"So, are you feeling better? Good to go?" - she nodded to him as he cracked the door open, letting light come into the room.

"Yeah. Thank you, Bryce." - he saw her cheeks flushing a little. - "You probably are getting tired of always having to listen to my dumb breakdowns." - to her distress, she had lost count on how many times he found her in a supply closet in that state.

He chuckled softly. If she only knew. Bryce was pretty sure it was simply impossible for him to get tired of her.

He really liked Rei Sato. He admired how so genuine she was. Admitting that she made mistakes was the hardest thing ever, and something that he would never do.

Rei was noble and a dreamer. And she was the only internal medicine intern that seemed to not judge him and call him a ‘bloodthirsty’ for choosing a more "in hands" - literally - job. Even with all those jokes, he knew she was just teasing him.

But she put so much pressure in herself, she couldn’t see how capable and brilliant she already was.

"I don't mind. We all need to let things out of our chests sometimes." - he said instead and she smiled sweetly at him, ready to step out of the supply closet. - "Wait, before you go..."

Rei had just turned to face him when he pulled her chin to his, leaving a quick but soft kiss on her lips.

When Bryce pulled out, the other doctor's face was bright red.

"Just for good luck." - he winked mischievously at her, before hurrying back to work, leaving a numb Rei behind.

"Bryce? Aren't you going to drink?" - the man snapped out of his thoughts by her voice. He looked down to the bar counter, noticing the untouched glass of some fruity drink in front of him. Rei was already drinking hers.

"Oh yeah, sorry, I just zoned out a bit." - he took a sip of his drink and smirked at her. - "I was thinking about that kiss we shared this morning."

Of course she blushed violently to it. She was adorable.

“You’re insufferable, Lahela.” - was everything she murmured at him, before going back to sip her drink.

They drank in silence, enjoying each other’s company and the upbeat songs that made the whole place shake.

“Hey… you want to dance?” - he asked when both their glasses were empty.

“I’d love to.” - she smiled sheepishly. He took her hand and gently guided her toward the dance floor, both of them squeezing between the dancing people.

Rei giggled softly as Bryce promptly started moving to the beat, and joined him, enjoying the catchy pop song that was playing, their eyes never leaving each other.

“What?” - he asked after she let a low groan as a calmer and more sensual song started playing.

“It’s just… I don’t know how to dance to this type of music.” - she murmured, embarrassedly rolling her eyes.

“Nonsense, it’s like dancing to any other song. There’s no right or wrong. But I can help you if you want…” - he stepped closer, grinning, and she felt his firm and warm hands on her waist, pulling her close enough to make her feel his heat through the fabric of his clothes. - “Just follow the music. Feel the beat.” - she nodded, his hands effortlessly guiding her hips along with the sensual rhythm. They swayed, their bodies pressed tightly close together.

Lost in each other, Rei threw her arms around his shoulders, absentmindedly biting her lip as her eyes moved to watch his lips, just inches from hers. Smirking and fully aware of what he was doing, Bryce pushed her away until the medical intern felt her back hitting the wall against her, letting out a surprised gasp as she felt his warm mouth on her neck, his hands gripping her firmly by her hips.

“Finally. This is right where I wanted you to be the whole night.” - his voice was low and husky into her ear.

“What, with my back against the wall?” - she murmured back at him, her heartbeat speeding up.

“And in my arms.” - he flashed that smirk of his to hers before leaning in.

Rei sighed when his mouth met hers, enjoying the sensation of his weight pinning her there, kissing her fiercely. She tightened the embrace around his neck, kissing back as hungry as him, both of them going completely oblivious to the people around and listening to the song playing only inside their heads.

He felt so drawn to her.

When they finally parted, a new energetic song was playing. They gazed into each other’s eyes, Rei feeling her mouth swollen and tingling.

“You’re amazing, Rei.” - he grinned at her, fondly stroking her cheek, and saw that silly smile spreading on her face.

“Careful. If you keep saying this, it might go all over my head.” - he chuckled and pecked her lips again.

“I know it won’t.” - reluctantly, he pulled away. - “You should go back to your friends before they accuse me of kidnapping you. You neglected them long enough this night.” - she giggled.

“Yeah, you might be right…”

“Jackie might even start getting jealous of me.” - he winked playfully at her, running his fingers through his hair. Rei rolled her eyes but assumed a worried expression right after.

“You know, I actually wanted to talk to you about this thing…” - he looked at her curiously. - “Uh… would you…” - he noticed her hands fidgeting anxiously. - “Uh…” - Deep breaths, Rei, count to three. One, two, three. Breath in. One, two, three. Breath out. Okay. - “I mean, uh, on Saturday night we’ll be throwing this housewarming party for our new apartment and…” - her face got hotter and hotter as she got more tongue tied. - “well, if you’d want to go, you’re more than welcome—”

“Do you want me to go, Rei?” - he asked, his famous smirk spreading on his face. Bryce Lahela had to bit back a laughter as he watched her face turning bright red, almost purple. Who would have thought that that walking nervous hot mess could be so demanding when kissing him back?

“I… Yeah… I mean, it would be nice! But if you can’t, I can totally understand and—” - the avalanche of words started coming out of her mouth. He chuckled softly.

“I’m sorry, Rei, I was just teasing you. I’d love to go, thank you for inviting me.” - he squeezed her shoulder affectionately and that gesture somehow seemed to relax her a bit.

“Oh okay, cool!” - her smile was so cute, Bryce had to control himself to not kiss her again.

Although they've known each other for a few weeks, he somehow knew Rei Sato well enough to know that there was a limit of how many times he could kiss or flirt with her per day without startling her. Things should go at her own pace.

...And he actually liked it and was willing to take things slower. He enjoyed her company and was figuring out how she worked. Things at work were already pretty hectic, they didn’t need to rush things up between them.

“Uh, if you want, you can invite the other surgical interns too.” - she completed.

“That’d be nice.” - he smiled brightly at her. - “Thanks.”

“Just don’t tell Jackie I told you this!” - he laughed loudly, throwing his head backwards.

“I won’t. Thanks for the invite, Rei. I’ll be there.” - he winked as his hand squeezed hers gently before letting it go.

“Okay. See you there then.” - she smiled coyly at him before going back to her booth, where her friends were, leaving them both with an exciting feeling.

They couldn't wait for the housewarming party!

All I wanna get is a little bit closer

All I wanna know is, can you come a little closer?

Tagging  @brightpinkpeppercorn @pixelburied @nyastarlight @endlessflame @awkwardalbatros @choicesarehard @strangelycami @stillafictosexual @queen-among-writers @indiacater @worldofchoices @radlovedreamer @fairydustandsarcasm @choicesthot @blackreddish @lilyofchoices @fluffywhitehair @weaving-in-words (if you would like to be tagged in upcoming Bryce x MC fanfics, tell me!)

[hope-for-olicity]

Fabulous Olicity Fanfic Friday - July 5th, 2019

Happy Friday! So this is my attempt to both thank awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and offer my recommendations to anyone who is interested. Here are the fantastic fanfic stories I read this week! They are posted in the order I read them. This and all previous Fabulous Olicity Fanfic posts can be found on my blog. There are many great stories out there that I did not read - such as anything from S7, you should check those out too!

Forget Me Not multi-chapter WIP by @mindramblingsfics - Felicity was presumed dead after The Gambit was shipwrecked and she went missing. As the one year anniversary of her death approaches, a miracle happens and she is found. Just when Oliver thinks the universe has given them a second chance, he learns Felicity barely remembers him and the memories of their love together are gone entirely. Oliver and Felicity’s journey after they reunite prove to be a tough road ahead, and then they learn that Felicity’s accident may have had a more sinister motive behind it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392291/chapters/43556987

Fun in the Sun by @laxit21 - During the post-s3 roadtrip, Oliver and Felicity go to the beach, Fun ensues. https://archiveofourown.org/works/19396564

ONE | (Oliver the Footballer) multi-chapter Complete @someonesaidcake - Felicity Smoak had a plan; to save enough money to kick her monotonous job and start up the company of her dreams. She made good plans, solid plans, attainable plans. He was never part of her plan. His name was Oliver Queen, the reclusive Brazilian football star with a broken smile and a story to tell. He'd never planned on her either. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005402/chapters/34779542

Lights Will Guide You Home multi-chapter WIP by behindblueyes72 - Warning "Lights Will Guide You Home" will be an intense story that will take you to some emotional places. It will be one hell of a ride but our Olicity will land in a beautiful loving spot. https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209877

Helplessly Wrecked multi-chapter WIP by @cruzrogue - A very smart, passionate, woman. Worked to get her dual masters from MIT, it may have taken longer being a mother of triplets but at least she has her mother’s support. Oliver Queen still has a yacht incident and was marooned for shorter time frame on a real deserted island. He never flunked out of his Ivy League schooling and is a very sought-after bachelor. His relationships never last more than half a year and is known to throw himself into his work. His motto ‘work hard play harder’. https://archiveofourown.org/works/19194103/chapters/45628978

seemingly impossible (but not untrue) multi-chapter WIP by @alexiablackbriar13 - Young genius historian Dr Felicity Smoak unknowingly and accidentally calls up a bewitched alchemical manuscript within the Oxford Bodleian Libraries - a book that has been lost for centuries. Descended from an old and distinguished line of witches, Felicity wants nothing to do with magic, despite her unruly and powerful abilities. But her discovery of Ashmole 782 sets the world of creatures stirring; with a mystery afoot and new, dangerous magical abilities manifesting for her to navigate, she is approached by the enigmatic vampire biochemist Professor Oliver Queen, who seems to have a deep interest in both the manuscript… and her. Based on A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16224353/chapters/37923743

Ride or Die multi-chapter Complete by @someonesaidcake - They say that life is a series of events that we can neither predict nor control.... And then there is him. He’s a bit of an enigma. ~*~*~*~ Young CEO Felicity Smoak is just trying to make her mark on the world, yes she's a little high strung and stressed, but it was what is was... until he came along. With eyes a girl could lose herself in and shoulder-tapping hair made for hanging on to Oliver Queen was reckless and carefree. Also, he rode a bike. He was everything she wasn't and he was a sucker for those sinful red lips and everything that came with them. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11800128/chapters/26616567

Providence multi-chapter WIP by @so-caffeinated - Will Queen has struggled in silence in the year since he was shot. But when a shadowy crime lord known as Domino targets the only woman Will’s ever truly loved, fate forces him to confront his demons in ways he never could have imagined… Whether he wants to or not. Amelia Prescott has fought to take control of her life since learning two years ago that her personal and professional worlds were manipulated by others. But nothing can prepare her for just how hard she'll have to fight to set her own course, especially when her heart belongs to a damaged man and a crime lord threatens her every professional move... And her life. Destiny brings them together, but as chaos reigns and personal demons haunt Will and Amelia both, it may also threaten to tear them apart. https://archiveofourown.org/works/17919056/chapters/42308753

You Can't Afford Him multi-chapter WIP by @quiveringbunny - Oliver and Felicity, still strained after returning from Lian Yu following the takedown of Slade Wilson, take on roles that challenge their buried feelings when they go undercover to investigate a dangerous arms dealer. A Macau casino. A luxury suite. Suspenders. Lucky red panties. What could go wrong? https://archiveofourown.org/works/18338246/chapters/43413185

little wonders (twists and turns of fate) multi-chapter WIP by @alexiablackbriar13 - Oliver and Felicity's drunken mistake of a hook-up in the bunker comes with unexpected consequences in the form of a... souvenir. Deciding to remain romantically uninvolved, the two of them will have to battle all the trials and tribulations of maintaining a platonic relationship while Felicity is pregnant and the two of them are living together, coping with all the emotional baggage that they both bring to the table - and dealing with the fact that they are still very much in love with each other, but scarred by the events that broke them apart in the first place. https://archiveofourown.org/works/19436164/chapters/46256896

Time for a Story multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. YOU NEED THIS STORY IN YOUR LIFE. https://archiveofourown.org/works/3912157/chapters/8757172

My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark multi-chapter WIP by @tangled23works - This is a collection of scenes I've written but will probably never have the time to publish as part of a larger fic. Sometimes, there are stories that need to be told no matter how short they are. Anyway, each chapter is inspired by a song. https://archiveofourown.org/works/18804658/chapters/44618395

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished multi-chapter WIP by @kuningatarmirka - Felicity wanted to do good. Her virus was only supposed to be used for noble causes. But things don't always go the way you want. University AU inspired by Wicked the Musical. https://archiveofourown.org/works/19452214/chapters/46299487

Mothers Know Best multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - Since they have been kids, they have been best friends. Since they have been friends, their mothers wanted them to be together. After coming back from the east coast, Felicity takes over a position at Queen Consolidated, the company her best friend will soon take over from his father. Their mothers still jjpush for them to be together, and they seem closer to that goal than ever because wedding bells are ringing. The only problem is that they both plan to get married to someone else. https://archiveofourown.org/works/18921118/chapters/44918146

Worth a Thousand Words by @laxit21 - While on their roadtrip after defeating Ra's, Felicity learns about one of Oliver's hidden talents. Prompt: Romantic Sunsets https://archiveofourown.org/works/19476925

When Did It All Go Wrong multi-chapter WIP by @wrldtravler - After a mission with A.R.G.U.S. goes south, agent Oliver Queen learns something he shouldn't about Director Amanda Waller. Sent on the run when A.R.G.U.S. turns against him, he’s forced to seek out the one person that never wanted to see him again but whom he trusts with his life: his ex, Felicity Smoak. Putting their past behind them, the estranged pair come together along with John Diggle and Lyla Michaels to stop the looming threat. However, the past never stays buried for long. With their renewed connection comes great strength. But where there is strength, there is also great weakness – one that may cost them everything they worked to prevent. https://archiveofourown.org/works/19019845/chapters/45169432

// @emmaamelia95 // @mel-loves-all // @oliverfel4 // @green-arrows-of-karamel // @coal000 // @miriam1779 // @memcjo// @captainolicitysbedroom // @tdgal1 // @spaztronautwriter // @lalawo1// @quiveringbunny // @wrongshipper // @thebookjumper // @vaelisamaza // @myhauntedblacksoul // @lovelycssefan // @laurabelle2930 // @laxit21 // - let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged!

[kyotakumrau]

Sugizo Tube Vol.2 with Kyo as a guest Part 2/3

Same as always - don’t use it to make subs; if you notice any mistakes let me know. I tried to include as much detail as possible, but obviously some bits are edited. () have my comments.

*Ningen wo Kaburu video*

L: so we just watched the video for ‘Ningen wo Kaburu’, this was the promotional edit with blurred out scenes, full version is available for purchase on iTunes. That’s amazing.

S: You can buy it? Wow. It’s beautiful, this director is really wonderful.

L: Is it someone you have been working with for a long time?

S: The whole time?

K: Mostly it’s been the same person.

L: You always share the images together with the director?

K: Yes, well, uhm, this time it’s the image from the song title, we talked about it with the director and made the video.

S: Is it you who decide the visuals for DIR EN GREY?

K: Not everything, but majority.

S: Actually Kyo is an amazing artist in every way, also as a painter; he’s wonderful at the art that uses body, he also has amazing tattoos, he can use his body for expression amazingly. He has this visual sense that, even with Mr.Kondo*, when watching your videos/footage I always felt that the visual direction came from Kyo. It came from the ‘The World of Truth’, right? (I think Sugizo means Mr. Kondo, but not 100% sure)

K: Yeah, this too.

S: His lyrics also contain visuals like that.

L: Where do the visuals come from first?

K: When we are working on a song, the instruments are decided, lyrics and the melody usually progress together at the same time. We also create the main music (??) at the same time. I get the image then and try to give it a shape.

L: So the visuals come already at this stage?

K: Usually yes.

L: How do you get the inspiration for the visuals?

K: I love movies, but, well…

L: Even today you wore a t-shirt with Hellraiser.

S: He really loves Pinhead.

K: But mostly it’s from the news, from what I felt from them, recently there was a lot of such ideas.

L: This time it’s been 9 months since your previous single. What’s the significance of releasing a single for DIR EN GREY?

K: For us it doesn’t matter if it’s a single or album when working on a new music, it’s just that company told us to.

S: [chuckles] 'company told us to!’

K: But with an album it’s easier for us to create a worldview, to express it. With a single we have to express the us of this moment in only one song, that’s quite hard. So I prefer not to release singles. But if we don’t it’s hard to organize a tour, there are many things to consider, so it can’t be helped. DIR EN GREY has an image like this now - it’s like a business card.

S: So you don’t release songs just for promotion (for radio etc), you create a single version.

K: Now that’s true, ?? This way of thinking might be seen as an old fashion now though.

S: Recently LUNA SEA stopped releasing singles. We have a leading song and we use that for promotional reasons, so there’s no reason to create a single.

L: When working on an album do you create songs deciding on the image beforehand or do you work on new songs and then decide on the direction?

K: The latter. We don’t really have talks like 'let’s make an album like this’, 'a song like that would be good’ and so on. We randomly decide to work on a song for an album, everyone listens to it and we realize 'that’s the current course’ or 'we all want to make songs like that’.

L: Do you decide on one mode?

K: Usually we do.

L: To be able to choose one course of action, as a ??、I think that’s amazing.

S: It’s like that for a band that has been around for a long time. Even if the direction seen by each band member is different, if we try to create sound/melody, our direction will at some point settle, come together, instantly. A band is a being like that. I always say that, but the direction for details, way of thinking is different, but rock bands are amazing. Why I think so is, it’s not about how many people created it, it’s about who did it. A song created by these members is like this, with those members the band becomes a new existence. That’s what rock bands are about. DIR of course as well welcomes its 20th anniversary and with the same band members, even without the direction decided upto the small details, if they decide to create new song together, they will be able to do it as them now. What do you think?

K: I hope it will be like that ;)

L: DIR EN GREY is starting from 2014 doing a series of tours revolving around the past albums. It something often done by the foreign artists, but in Japan it was pretty unheard of. How did you get an idea to do it?

K: There was the 20th anniversary thing, if not with this occasion there would be no other chance to look back at the old songs and play them again. So we used this timing.

S: That sounds pretty interesting; I’ve never done anything like that.

K: It’s really difficult.

L: Which part is difficult?

K: We did some really old songs, I couldn’t remember the time/era of the songs, and obviously I completely forgot the lyrics too. We had a tour every 2~3 months. So in the end my brain was just keeping rotating, I had to memorize the lyrics again and again, each album and show atmosphere was also different, so we had to remember that and change the ourselves now, and while doing that we had to express ourselves. That was difficult.

S: I have a very straightforward question about that tour. Old time fans were really glad about it, right? What about the new fans, did they want to see that too?

K: I wonder. But if it was me I’d want to see it.

S: So I’d like to ask fans, would you be happy if the band revived old albums?

L: There were some comments from fans saying 'I’d like LUNA SEA to do that!’.

S: Yeah, I thought fans were thinking like that. But the key or tempo in the past was totally different, right? Bringing that back? When we are older?

L: Oh, there are many fans saying they want to see that. (She reads fans comments)

S: If DIR wanted to see a tour like that, should LUNA SEA think about it as well?

L: Woah! (very happy 'woah’)

K: Please try to visualize it!

S: If I’m able to, then. I can’t really imagine it. Huuuuh. But it would be hard on Shinya. He would complain 'No way, that’s impossible! Why were I drumming so fast?!’. Even now it’s quite hard.

K: But you played Rosier.

S: That was just for LUNA FEST! No way! Don’t wanna!

K: (laughing) Please do it!! Do it! At least one song!

S: (something about lunafes and CY, it’s more likely for CY?)

K: I’d love to see it.

S: Let’s say to Shinya 'do your best’.

L: Is it hard deciding on songs for CY?

S: You can only ignore it. There are also songs that I’d love to perform, but there also opinions like 'isn’t it too much? Wouldn’t people be happy enough with this?’. If we do it don’t we become kids? (??)

K: There’s a song by LUNA SEA with a Japanese title that wasn’t released, I’d love to see them playing it, but so far without luck.

S: I don’t remember it. We probably forgot about having a song like that.

L: It’s that bad? (Kyo laughs)

S: When LUNA SEA was formed we were quite hardcore sounding band, our songs were very fast, our sound was hardcore or goth. Even now I love a genre like that. I’d like to do that, but the reaction from other band members might not be that great, like 'our musicianship is different now’.

K: I’d like to see Inoran to play guitar solos from such songs.

S: There are those songs from before Shinya and I joined the band.

L: Woah, there are so many comments asking Kyo to push Sugizo more.

K: (laughs) I’ve been pushing him about it since before.

S: Extreme feel like during Sport Valley, songs were so fast then. Let’s move to the next topic. (He leans back with a smirk XD)

L: (laughs). Kyo has been leading another band starting from 2013. His fans probably now this, but sukekiyo’s first performance took place as an opening act for Sugizo’s solo show.

S: So nostalgic. To be honest, I totally adore sukekiyo’s music. DIR has that hardcore feel, anger, destruction and sorrow, so sukekiyo has a totally different side, grave (slow manner, solemn) and beauty and feel of progressive rock, they create this very wide worldview. The vocalist named Kyo is able to express the exact opposites. I was surprised by it from the very beginning. Is it like that?

K: Yeah.

L: With what kind of feelings did you start sukekiyo?

K: I wanted to try various things, when [creating music] with different people what kind of music would it result in? I wanted to try many things and sukekiyo was realized then.

L: So with that opening act, did the offer come from Sugizo?

S: No, Kyo asked me about doing an opening act at my concert, I was very happy. That was 5 years ago? You’ve been doing sukekiyo for 5 years now?

K: Yeah.

S: When they were releasing their first album I was able to do a remix song for it, the song was really great.

L: The members in sukekiyo are incredible.

S: And like that I was able to watch as sukekiyo was born. I was honoured.

L (she talks about the information that came up earlier about working on the remix songs - they are called 'sibling songs’)

S: First I got an inspiration from the song made by Kyo and guys, worked on it and it evolved into a totally different song. So they are 'sibling songs’. Through such a creative exchange, being able to exchange DNA, it was amazing.

L: We can see the cover art of IMMORTALIS on the screen right now.

S: Do we have any video to show of them?

L: It seems like it’s coming now. Which song is it?

S: Is it from the newest release?

K: From one before.

L: Then, let’s watch a video from sukekiyo, ‘anima’.

*anima video*

S: Is it okay to talk about the video?

K: Yeah, of course.

S: The video was made by the drummer.

L: That’s amazing. Directing the worldview at the same time as playing drums.

S: Takumi-kun who plays on guitar is also amazing. It’s alright to say that, right?

K: I think he will be very happy to hear that.

S: He’s amazing playing the guitar, but also does programming and he works as a manipulator for DIR EN GREY during their tours. It’s not a secret, right?

K: He’s probably watching even now.

S: Really? Takumi, how are you? (and Sugizo toasts with a bottle of water XD)

(Takumi’s reply: ‘Sugizo, I’m GREAT!’ – and it was followed by a tweet explaining that the reply to Sugizo was his 500th tweet. And when Sugizo asks you ‘how are you?’, you will reply great no mater how you feel XD)

L: So instead of hiring someone to do that, you prefer to chose someone you know.

K: That’s right. We create songs together, so even if we don’t talk about it he will understand many things.

S: That’s a totally new era. One person can do so many things.

L: There was a comment [from Takumi] “I’m watching!” (Changing topic, Layla introduces ONENESS M and Zessai done with Kyo). Zessai was truly beautiful; I’ve listened to it so many times. I love it.

S: Thank you, Kyo.

K: No, it was my pleasure.

S: I’m so grateful for that. When creating songs for my 20th anniversary, as something not done usually, I wanted to gather the vocalists I’m close with. First, I wanted to ask Kyo to join the project and I contacted him soon.

K: There was a talk about it quite early on and I was all for it. At the moment of the shout, I thought I would break my voice but I wanted to record it on the first try.

S: It was amazing [he demonstrates the shout…]. It’s a beautiful quiet song but for a moment there’s this mad shout. To insert this kind of energy, I thought only Kyo could do that. And the speed of him working! I’ve sent him a demo asking what he thinks of the song, and usually people send back more recorded into it including some lyrics. But he was like ‘I got the actual song done’. He was making sure with me ‘I recorded the final version, is that alright?’

L: Did you write the lyrics that quickly?

K: As I explained before, I write lyrics while I’m working on a song. So it was quick. I can easily understand the worldview of Sugizo’s songs. So I could imagine what he wishes from me. I gave it a shape in my own way, the original Sugizo’s work had a melody, I left the best part and added my own colour to it, mixing everything together.

L: In the interview about the release Sugizo commented that it as much better than he was hoping for, that inserting that part of insanity into the beauty; he commented that only Kyo could manage something like that.

S: It was a song I wrote thinking of Kyo, from the beginning. So the artist Kyo the way I see him, I was thinking how to let him exist inside of my music, I worked with this in mind. And when working about him as a vocalist, I how will it work with a dub? Actually, that song is dub. How amazing it would be for Kyo to exist inside of such song and sing that groove, to have a mixture like that. And from that came out a performance that went way over my expectations.

L: Were you thinking about the album track list (song order) already?

S: It was decided by chance. This album has grand, progressive songs. Next was much faster song from Yohei. I wanted to show Kyo’s depth and beauty. I could not imagine more from that song. Thank you for the lyrics and singing, Kyo.

K: Not at all.

S: It’s a song you would want to play live someday, isn’t it?

K: I totally agree.

L: It would be great to have a concert dedicated to ONENESS M.

S: What we want to express and our worldview overlap to some degree, of course the surface if different (??), but I was glad we could create this together.

L: I’d really like to see it live.

[feministdragon]

Peter Jackson’s Cartoon War

When director-producer Peter Jackson’s World War I film, “They Shall Not Grow Old,” which miraculously transforms grainy, choppy black-and-white archival footage from the war into a modern 3D color extravaganza, begins, he bombards us with the clichés used to ennoble war. Veterans, over background music, say things like “I wouldn’t have missed it,” “I would go through it all over again because I enjoyed the service life” and “It made me a man.” It must have taken some effort after the war to find the tiny minority of veterans willing to utter this rubbish. Military life is a form of servitude, prolonged exposure to combat leaves you broken, scarred for life by trauma and often so numb you have difficulty connecting with others, and the last thing war does is make you a man.

Far more common was the experience of the actor Wilfrid Lawson, who was wounded in the war and as a result had a metal plate in his skull. He drank heavily to dull the incessant pain. In his memoirs “Inside Memory,” Timothy Findley, who acted with him, recalled that Lawson “always went to bed sodden and all night long he would be dragged from one nightmare to another—often yelling—more often screaming—very often struggling physically to free himself of impeding bedclothes and threatening shapes in the shadows.” He would pound the walls, shouting “Help! Help! Help!” The noise, my dear—and the people.

David Lloyd George, wartime prime minister of Britain, in his memoirs used language like this to describe the conflict:

… [I]nexhaustible vanity that will never admit a mistake … individuals who would rather the million perish than that they as leaders should own—even to themselves—that they were blunderers … the notoriety attained by a narrow and stubborn egotism, unsurpassed among the records of disaster wrought by human complacency … a bad scheme badly handled … impossible orders issued by Generals who had no idea what the execution of their commands really meant … this insane enterprise … this muddy and muddle-headed venture. …

The British Imperial War Museum, which was behind the Jackson film, had no interest in portraying the dark reality of war. War may be savage, brutal and hard, but it is also, according to the myth, ennobling, heroic and selfless. You can believe this drivel only if you have never been in combat, which is what allows Jackson to modernize a cartoon version of war.

The poet Siegfried Sassoon in “The Hero” captured the callousness of war:

“Jack fell as he’d have wished,” the Mother said, And folded up the letter that she’d read. “The Colonel writes so nicely.” Something broke In the tired voice that quavered to a choke. She half looked up. “We mothers are so proud Of our dead soldiers.” Then her face was bowed.

Quietly the Brother Officer went out. He’d told the poor old dear some gallant lies That she would nourish all her days, no doubt. For while he coughed and mumbled, her weak eyes Had shone with gentle triumph, brimmed with joy, Because he’d been so brave, her glorious boy.

He thought how “Jack,” cold-footed, useless swine, Had panicked down the trench that night the mine Went up at Wicked Corner; how he’d tried To get sent home; and how, at last, he died, Blown to small bits. And no one seemed to care Except that lonely woman with white hair.

Our own generals and politicians, who nearly two decades ago launched the greatest strategic blunder in American history and have wasted nearly $6 trillion on conflicts in the Middle East that we cannot win, are no less egotistical and incompetent. The images of our wars are as carefully controlled and censored as the images from World War I. While the futility and human carnage of our current conflicts are rarely acknowledged in public, one might hope that we could confront the suicidal idiocy of World War I a century later.

Leon Wolff, in his book “In Flanders Fields: The 1917 Campaign,” writes of World War I:

“It had meant nothing, solved nothing, and proved nothing; and in so doing had killed 8,538,315 men and variously wounded 21,219,452. Of 7,750,919 others taken prisoner or missing, well over a million were later presumed dead; thus the total deaths (not counting civilians) approach ten million. The moral and mental defects of the leaders of the human race had been demonstrated with some exactitude. One of them (Woodrow Wilson) later admitted that the war had been fought for business interests; another (David Lloyd George) had told a newspaperman: ‘If people really knew, the war would be stopped tomorrow, but of course they don’t—and can’t know. The correspondents don’t write and the censorship wouldn’t pass the truth.’

There is no mention in the film of the colossal stupidity of the British general staff that sent hundreds of thousands of working-class Englishmen—they are seen grinning into the camera with their decayed teeth—in wave after wave, week after week, month after month, into the mouths of German machine guns to be killed or wounded. There is no serious exploration of the iron censorship that hid the realities of the war from the public and saw the press become a shill for warmongers. There is no investigation into how the war was used by the state, as it is today, as an excuse to eradicate civil liberties. There is no look at the immense wealth made by the arms manufacturers and contractors or how the war plunged Britain deep into debt with war-related costs totaling 70 percent of the gross national product. Yes, we see some pictures of gruesome wounds, digitalized into color, yes, we hear how rats ate corpses, but the war in the film is carefully choreographed, stripped of the deafening sounds, repugnant smells and most importantly the crippling fear and terror that make a battlefield a stygian nightmare. We glimpse dead bodies, but there are no long camera shots of the slow agony of those dying of horrific wounds. Sanitized images like these are war pornography. That they are no longer jerky and grainy and have been colorized in 3D merely gives old war porn a modern sheen.

“When the war was not very active, it was really rather fun to be in the front line,” a veteran says in the film. “It was a sort of outdoor camp holiday with a slight spice of danger to make it interesting.”

Insipid comments like that defined the perception of the war at home. The clash between a civilian population that saw the war as “a sort of outdoor camp holiday” and those who experienced it led to profound estrangement. The poet Charles Sorley wrote: “I should like so much to kill whoever was primarily responsible for the war.” And journalist and author Philip Gibbs noted that soldiers had a deep hatred of civilians who believed the lies. “They hated the smiling women in the streets. They loathed the old men. … They desired that profiteers should die by poison-gas. They prayed to God to get the Germans to send Zeppelins to England—to make the people know what war meant.”

Military studies have determined that after 60 days of continuous combat, 98 percent of those who survive will have become psychiatric casualties. The common trait among the 2 percent who were able to endure sustained combat was a predisposition toward “aggressive psychopathic personalities.” Lt. Col. David Grossman wrote: “It is not too far from the mark to observe that there is something about continuous, inescapable combat which will drive 98 percent of all men insane, and the other 2 percent were crazy when they got there.”

The military cliques in American society are as omnipotent as they were in World War I. The symbols of war and militarism, then and now, have a quasi-religious aura, especially in our failed democracy. Our incompetent generals—such as David Petraeus, whose surges only prolonged the Iraq War and raised the casualty figures and whose idea to arm “moderate” rebels in Syria was a debacle—are as lionized as the pig-headed and vainglorious Gen. Douglas Haig, the British commander in chief, who resisted innovations such as the tank, the airplane and the machine gun, which he called “a much overrated weapon.” He believed the cavalry would play the decisive role in winning the war. Haig, in the Battle of the Somme, oversaw 60,000 casualties on the first day of the offensive, July 1, 1916. None of his military objectives were achieved. Twenty thousand lay dead between the lines. The wounded cried out for days. This did not dampen Haig’s ardor to sacrifice his soldiers. Determined to make his plan of bursting through the German lines and unleashing his three divisions of cavalry on the fleeing enemy, he kept the waves of assaults going for four months until winter forced him to cease. By the time Haig was done, the army had suffered more than 400,000 casualties and accomplished nothing. Lt. Col. E.T.F. Sandys, who saw 500 of his soldiers killed or wounded on the first day at the Somme, wrote two months later, “I have never had a moment’s peace since July 1st.” He then shot himself to death in a London hotel room. Joe Sacco’s illustrated book “The Great War,” a 24-foot-long wordless panorama that depicts the first day of the Battle of Somme, reveals more truth about the horror of war than Jackson’s elaborate restoration of old film.

https://www.truthdig.com/articles/peter-jacksons-cartoon-war/

Jackson closes the film with an army ditty about prostitution. “You might forget the gas and shell,” the song goes, “but you’ll nev’r forget the Mademoiselle! Hinky-dinky, parlez-vous?”

Tens of thousands of girls and women, whose brothers, fathers, sons and husbands were dead or crippled, and whose homes often had been destroyed, became impoverished and often homeless. They were easy prey for the brothels, including the military-run brothels, and the pimps that serviced the soldiers. There is nothing amusing or cute about lying on a straw mat and being raped by as many as 60 men a day, unless you are the rapist.

“Give sorrow words,” William Shakespeare reminded us, “The grief that does not speak whispers the o’erfraught heart and bids it break.”

It is fortunate all the participants in the war are dead. They would find the film another example of the monstrous lie that denied their reality, ignored or minimized their suffering and never held the militarists, careerists, profiteers and imbeciles who prosecuted the war accountable. War is the raison d’être of technological society. It unleashes demons. And those who profit from these demons, then and now, work hard to keep them hidden.

https://www.truthdig.com/articles/peter-jacksons-cartoon-war/

[falkenscreen]

ROCKETMAN

Rocketman is not a movie, at least not to me.

Anyone who writes about movies does it because they love movies and will, and should, assess any given picture as a film. We don’t generally question, at least in this form, whether we are altogether objective, but it’s none too often a subject comes along superseding even our affinity with cinema.

I’ve listened to Elton John as long as I’ve listened to music. To say it’s been a soundtrack to my life is an understatement and without embellishment the man’s discography is my very favourite. That I’m a bigger Elton John fan than a movie fan means no small thing when a film about his life comes along.

This biopic cannot be assessed by this author as easily as any other, for the simple matter of seeing Elton’s songs writ large on screen amidst high production values and an able star (more on this later) in and of itself is no little joy to behold. For Rocketman is not just a movie; it’s cyclical, near unabating cavalcade of greatest hits (and some obscure ones ‘Here and There’) just as much resembling every one of Elton’s last six Australian tours and no doubt decades worth of concerts.

Something between Jersey Boys and Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again, numbers are alternately relayed as background tracks, as if we’re watching an extravagant musical or otherwise via Elton (Taron Egerton) and co going about their regular lives; whether it be pitching to a producer or nutting out tunes on the piano. Director Dexter Fletcher imparting this story with a hybrid, at times surrealist recreation of the thrill fans will remember when first seeing Watford’s favourite son live, here’s hopefully as objective and impassioned an account you will get from someone who thinks you should stop reading and cue up ‘Madman Across The Water.’  

First thing’s first; Taron. It’s not the first time he and Elton (here serving as Executive Producer) nor Producer Matthew Vaughan have worked together. Fans of the Kingsman films might recognise one particular costume paying homage to their first collaboration.

Well chosen, Egerton, in his best performance to date, doesn’t just look the part but earns the tagline ‘Taron Egerton is Elton John.’ Mimicking the star’s mannerisms to a tee and his spitting image in several of the most outlandish costumes, while much of the film requires dramatic turns Egerton’s contagious sense of fun in the recreations of several well-known numbers is the cinematic equivalent in every sense of Elton leaping on a piano and baring a grin at his audience.

Jamie Bell as long-time lyrical partner Bernie Taupin (as South Park fans might fondly recall) does well; another development in what is an increasingly interesting career. Rocketman requires a villain and like Bohemian Rhapsody (the comparisons don’t stop there) casts an ex-Game of Thrones star (Richard Madden) as a questionable manager.

Bryce Dallas Howard and Steven Mackintosh are more than decent as the parents, though both are largely sounding boards for whatever is going on in Elton’s life at any given stage. Elton’s decades-long collaboration with lead guitarist Davey Johnstone, uncontroversial and unsurprisingly ill-befitting of a biopic that requires drama, like most his other lengthy stage partners are permitted a token average of about one screen grab.

Now to the music. Without changing the lyrics, and the filmmakers generally err on the side of sacrilege, there aren’t a lot of singles that squarely fit into a retelling of anyone’s life. Opting, again, like Bohemian Rhapsody, to almost always defer to numbers that appeared on one or more Greatest Hits volumes (‘Border Song’ being a notable exception), they land about half the time.

Opening with ‘The Bitch is Back’ in what is as nonsensical a creative decision as Lily James’ rendition of ‘Kissed The Teacher,’ Rocketman reaches its heights in the film’s earliest scenes with the spectacularly promising staging of ‘I Want Love,’ the only later era Elton clanger meriting inclusion. Not simply supremely endearing but sensical within proceedings, it is nearly matched by only ‘Honky Cat’ and the ‘Goodbye Yellow Brick Road’ duet. The early addition of “Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting,” if making little sense, is still spectacularly fun and serves the same purpose as Elton’s generally predictable placement of the tune in the opening stages of his shows.

The computer-generated scenery in this sequence and a couple more, amidst a film largely resonant for its strong use of colour and costuming in real life environments, regretfully wreaks of some of the more infamous deaths of cinema moments.

‘Tiny Dancer’ is shoehorned in among so many others in relation to a fleeting character simply because it ‘had to’ be there, neglecting more appropriate scores from the likes of ‘Tumbleweed Connection,’ ‘Captain Fantastic’ and of all things Elton’s debut studio album ‘Empty Sky.’ Opting to portray ‘Crocodile Rock’ as Elton introduces himself to an American audience, when every pair of shoes slowly rise off the ground in Rocketman’s most utilised promotional image, Fletcher strikes the right blend between that hyperrealist and euphoric, recreating what will be intrinsic to those sitting in the 22nd row the world over.

Fletcher showing a consummate, distinctive filmmaking flair in only two other scenes; the rip-roaring rendition of ‘Pinball Wizard’ to whirling camera-work, editing and effects thrillingly matching the song’s pace. It is otherwise only at the very end, in a heartfelt recreation of one of Elton’s most famous video clips, that all involved not only shine their brightest but look like they’re having the fun everyone should have handed the unique prospects of an Elton biopic. Why filmmakers always leave these sorts of sequences to the end and never take these leaps throughout I’ll never know.  

Rocketman is regrettably at it’s worst in the staging of the titular number, taking place within a swimming pool as Elton sings with his childhood self. Groundless and egregiously indiscernible in what is otherwise a straightforward if oft-lightly surrealist narrative, the sequence soon heedlessly morphs into a stadium scene with an all too literal interpretation of the lyrics. Doing so for a standalone visual gag that takes us stars away from what long since established itself as a temperately fantastical flick, it’s like is confusedly never repeated.

Too taking place on the heels of Elton’s most overrated number ‘Bennie and the Jets,’ the whole chapter is an aberration in what is still a more hit than miss musical.

Far above and beyond this, the entire number revolves around one of the darkest chapters in Elton’s life and in the film’s most reckless advent does not reckon with the sensitivity of what it is depicting. Curiously, the decision was not made to utilise ‘Someone Saved My Life Tonight’ at this juncture, the stated, apparent intent of the song (among other unused Elton numbers) being better reflective of the subject the filmmakers here chose to explore. Seeking to so quickly (as the flick often does) move to the next greatest hit, given the creatives sought to pursue this confronting avenue so blatantly it was a poor mistake not to address it requisitely or properly account for its aftermath even if it meant sacrificing one or more of the myriad other strands.

For chapters in Elton’s life come and go; the crew seemingly intent on telling as much as possible. His first marital relationship and wedding (which actually took place in Sydney) are confined to mere minutes, while other hugely significant moments elapse in as little time. Making the choice to confine the narrative to the first stages of Elton’s career and never travelling down the likes of ‘Peachtree Road’ is not a problem in and of itself, this era proving just as interesting for Elton as any other, it’s just that the form has been done and done and done.  

Again, we return to Bohemian Rhapsody. It’s no surprise that Rocketman suffers many of the same pitfalls with Fletcher in charge here; the Director having been credited as same on the Queen biopic.

Rocketman fares better for not trying to cram the entirety of Elton’s life into two hours, yet still attempts to cover everything from it’s chosen era and there simply isn’t enough time from a narrative standpoint. The film does however manage to fit in Elton winning over a cynical record producer with a fresh style, flashing sign-heavy montages hurling us forward years in time, informative text on Elton’s achievements immediately prior to those credits rolling (interposed with the performers’ real life counterparts just to show us how well they’ve done) and, as if this wasn’t enough, the whole narrative is framed by Elton relaying his story via flashback to the dozen odd others in rehab.

Not forgetting to namecheck everyone from The Beatles to Neil Young, with a recording session thrown in with Kiki Dee for good measure as we’ve ticked off almost everyone else already, the reference to Leon Russell given ‘The Union’ is somewhat more digestible. Hitting just about every biopic cliché, though never so wincingly nor often as the treatment proffered Freddie Mercury, speaking from experience this is not a film you’d want to watch within years of catching Walk Hard.  

Elton fans, casual and most dedicated, will relish repeat watches pure and simple. If you’re not into the music, unfortunately there isn’t much in the retelling to recommend it.

Rocketman is in cinemas from May 30

[actualfeysandtrash-blog]

This Impossible Year Pt. 2

So sorry that I have not posted in a while! This chapter was a bit difficult to write, and I’m sure for some of you it will be hard to read. But I promise things will get better! Also, I have to note that not all songs will be directly quoted; some will just describe the theme of the chapter. Enjoy!

WARNING: This fic deals with sensitive content that may be difficult for some readers. Proceed with caution.

Song: Love on the Brain by Rihanna

I hated living in this city.

When I first arrived here, the city seemed so full of magic. The tall skyscrapers seemed to reach to the heavens, the people seemed so determined, and the stores were a dazzling display of possibilities. Now the skyscrapers just felt like a cage, the people seemed apathetic, and the stores seemed to personify the gap of the haves and have-nots. 

And then there was the police force. I always had a tail on me. At first they were discreet about their followings; now they didn’t even bother pretending. If one is called away, another squad car was pinpointed on me within a minute. I didn’t blame them though. Who could say no to Spring City’s Chief of Police?

Tamlin will always claim the burden of being the Chief is one he never wanted. I didn’t believe him. Tamlin would pull rank whenever it suited him. Someone questioned his decision? They were put on desk duty for a month. Though his abuse of power was so discreet that he always got away with it. I should have known then that he would have no qualms about controlling me. 

I checked over my shoulder as I crossed the street to Amren’s Coffee House. Driving just a few yards behind me was officer Lucien Vanserra. Lucien was one of the good ones; Tamlin frequently used Lucien’s good nature against him. I gave a slight wave to him as I strolled into the coffee shop, and he offered an apologetic wave in response. I felt bad for him, I really did. 

Mor was seated in our usual corner sipping at her latte. She offered me a smile and scooted my favorite tea across the table towards me as I sat down. 

“Jasmine and mint, as usual”  she gave me a wink as I greedily took a large gulp. I sighed heavily as the warmth seeped into my bones.

“You’re a saint” I murmured into my drink.

“Oh I know” she winked at me again. “Just don’t tell Az that. He’ll never stop repeating it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it” I replied. I studied her face as she glanced down at her phone and frowned. “Something wrong at the shelter?”

“No no” she replied hastily, still frowning. Mor’s life was running the House of Hope Woman’s Shelter. While she was the executive director, she was unpaid; she absolutely refused to take a single penny away from the shelter. It helped that her parents had left her a sizeable inheritance - the only good thing they ever did for her. 

“Then what is it?” I was puzzled. Mor rarely let her dazzling smile down. She sighed.

“Az and I are... having problems” She admitted. My eyes widened with shock. “I know, I know. It’s just we -” her voice trailed off as she spied the dark bruise peaking out of my sweater around my wrist. I hastily covered it up.

“Why.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Mor -”

“Why do you stay with him Feyre? He leaves you black and blue!”

“He fucks so good?” I tried joking. Her stare gave no nonsense. I sighed. “He put me back together, Mor. I can’t ignore that.

“Yeah, just so he can throw you against the wall.” she grumbled. I gave her a look. She sat forward and took my hand in hers. “Listen. You know I love you. And I will always have you back. So whenever you decide is enough is enough, I will keep you safe.” 

A single tear fell down my face. “Mor, he will find me wherever I go.” I whispered, looking across the street to where Lucien was parked. “And..I still love him. I’ve got to give this another shot.”

“You do not have to do anything!” She took a deep breath. “Feyre. I know of a place that Tamlin would never go looking. When you need me, I will be there.” I had to look away from the sincerity in her eyes. 

“Thank you” I whispered.

“So. I hear you spent a great amount of time with Morrigan today” Tamlin said as he poured me a glass of wine over dinner. While his voice revealed nothing, his eyes told a different story. He was pissed.

“Yes. We went for coffee” I replied simply. He frowned.

“Feyre, you know I don’t like you spending time with her. She’s a bad influence.”

“But why?” I questioned. 

“Feyre.” He chastised, “Morrigan comes from a bad family. They are nothing but bad news.”

“I don’t care about your stupid family feuds! Mor is my friend!” I yelled at him. As the words flew out of my mouth, I knew that I had made a grave mistake. 

Tamlin flew out of his seat and grabbed my face. “I know much more than you do Feyre! You are ignorant to the ways of this city! You do not know anything! You will listen to me so you will stay safe! Do you understand? Does your simple brain understand? YOU. WILL. LISTEN. TO ME.”

I trembled in my seat, unable to do anything but give a simple nod. He released my face and placed a kiss on my brow. 

“See?” He said as he took a seat, “that wasn’t so hard.” He began cutting his food as he continued, “You know I only do this because I love you Feyre. I love you so much and I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He looked up from his plate. “You do love me too, right?”

“Yes. Yes, I love you too” I somehow succeeded in saying without a wobble in my voice. He gave me a dazzling smile, so at odds with the anger he had just displayed minutes before. I had fallen for that smile too many times to count. 

“Good. Now let’s forget that nastiness and enjoy dinner, okay?” He didn’t wait for my answer as he started digging in. 

“Okay” I whispered.