#this one got a little dark... then again the theme was melancholy and i decided to write sainw. sooooo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

athenasbloodyspear · 3 years

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Don’t Make Me Beg Now Baby

CHAPTER ONE: EDGE OF DARKNESS

Hello fellow Greta Van Freaks. This is my very first Greta fic! I hope you enjoy.

MASTERLIST

Note: This fic contains mature themes, discussions of past non-con (no members of GVF involved) and drug use. Minors DNI. 18+ only and please take care of yourselves. (See Ao3 for full tag list)

You can also read this fic on Ao3 if you prefer!

Jake Kiszka x Original Female Character

Picture this: The boys are in Northern Michigan to write the new album and they meet a wild young woman who works at a local record store who has a rough history with rock bands.

She doesn’t want to fall into the same traps she fell into before. He doesn’t want to hurt her.

The rest of them just want them to figure their shit out.

Note: While this fic is based on the members of Greta Van Fleet, I obviously do not know them personally (lol) and nearly 99% of this is a fever dream I decided to write down. Some tid bits are based on things said in interviews/photos/songs but please do not come for my neck if you dislike my portrayals as this is a STORY that I have entirely made up.

This will be a slow burn, overly dramatic, cliché fest of me missing my Mitten State and wishing more than anything I could move back home. Their music makes me homesick and for that I’ll never forgive them. ;)

Chapter Under the Cut

CHAPTER ONE: EDGE OF DARKNESS

The tiny bell on the door to “The Edge” clanked as Jake pushed his way in, followed by Josh, Sam and Danny. The afternoon sun streamed through the slats in the windows at a harsh angle, illuminating the swirling dust. The boys all immediately took a deep breath. They all loved the smell of this place. A mix of dusty old vinyl's, incense and weed.

The Edge was the shop owned by an old friend, Levi, who had been a longtime family friend of the Kiszka’s. The boys had made the near three hour drive to the shop whenever they had a spare weekend in their younger years. They bought Levi out of his guitar strings and drumsticks and always looked through the boxes of vinyl's hoping to find treasures. Levi sold an eclectic mix of music equipment, records, books, home goods and comically horrific coffee.

The Edge is where they had each bought their very first instruments, had their first beers and even smoked their first joint. It was a special place for them.

The old wood floors creaked with every step, the wood walls were covered with old articles from Rolling Stone, photos Levi had taken and autographs from the artists who had cycled through the place over the years. There were stacks upon stacks of vinyl's. Shelves of old autobiographies and music theory books. There were speakers stacked from floor to ceiling, and the whole right side of the store was jam packed with basses and guitars. The back corner had a few keyboards and a drum set, but plenty of catalogues to pick even more instruments from. There were cases of drumsticks and guitar picks and strings. The middle of the store had tables full of incense, candles and interesting home goods. There were tables where local artists sold jewelry, art pieces and furniture. It was full to the brim, most shelves rising way up to the ceiling. Most needed a ladder to reach the top. The basement had a sound studio with even more equipment set up to be used to record, or to test out.

Levi had inherited the place from his father, who had built up quite a legendary roster of friends over his years. The shop was just off Front Street on the main drag of Traverse City. Levi’s father had made a name for himself as a great host to bands looking to escape to northern Michigan to hole up in cabins and write albums. Levi continued the tradition and took it a step further by buying the space next door and turning it into a club with live music on the weekends.

If you were lucky, you could catch some super huge bands playing for only about 100 people in the dark side room of The Edge.

“You bastards finally made it!” Levi called out as he came sauntering out of the back room. Levi looked the exact same as the last time the boys had seen him. Tanned skin from his days paddle boarding and hiking along the Lake Michigan shore, sandy blonde hair that was brighter in the summer, perpetual 5-o-clock shadow because he just couldn’t be bothered to shave, shell necklace around his neck, light wash jeans low on his hips with the same old cowboy boots he’d been wearing since the boys were 12.

“Is that grey hair I see Levi?” Josh leaned forward with an exaggerated squint. Levi laughed, snagging Josh’s head to give him a noogie.

“I may be older than you punks by a few years, but I’m not greying yet.” Levi released Josh from his headlock and gave him a shove.

“I’d say 37 is more than a few years older than us, grandpa.” Sam snarked.

“You’re makin me regret extending my hospitality, kid.”

Jake felt himself relax fully for the first time in a really long time. It was just like old times. Exactly what the boys needed.

“Welcome back dudes. I’m surprised I’m still cool enough for you Rockstar types.” Levi crossed his legs and leaned back against the front counter.

“We’ll never be too cool for The Edge. This place will always be way cooler than we could ever be.” Danny piped up, walking forward to wrap Levi in a hug.

“It’s been too long man.” Levi commented as he smacked Danny on the back.

“We know.” Sam said “Way too fuckin long.” He hugged Levi next. Josh and Jake followed up with hugs next. The room was heavy with a tinge of melancholy. Old friends who had missed each other finally reunited.

“Well, have you guys been to the house yet?” Levi stepped around the counter and started pouring four cups of the famous nasty coffee.

“Yeah we dropped our bags off before we headed into town.” Danny spoke up.

“Isn’t it sweet?” Levi asked enthusiastically.

“It’s wicked man. Thanks so much for getting that set up for us.” Josh grinned as he snagged a cup off the counter.

The house was a mid century modern cabin right on the east bay shore. It came equipped with a huge garage studio, front deck and a dock out into the bay. Levi had bought the house in foreclosure and along with help from a bunch of locals (in exchange for beer of course) they turned the house into a perfect getaway for any artists looking to come take a break up north. The place had five bedrooms and three bathrooms with a giant living room with overstuffed couches and velvet chairs. The walls were covered in art and the shelves were full to bursting with plants. It was a kaleidoscope of colors and textures, with mix matched rugs and lamps. It was Levi’s pride and joy.

“I’m so glad you guys like it.” Levi smiled even bigger as he passed coffees to the rest of the boys. “Once you’re a little more settled, feel free to send me a list of equipment you want me to set up downstairs and you can start coming in whenever to work. But also, I think you should probably take a week or two off first. You all look about two seconds away from collapsing.”

“Yeah we’re pretty fuckin beat dude. But we’ll send you a list ASAP.” Jake said, taking a burning sip of the coffee. It singed his nerve endings and he couldn’t have been happier about it.

Levi opened his mouth to speak again, when a voice filtered through the window to the loft above the store.

“Yo Levi!” the person shouted “Can you please get off your fuckin ass and pick music to play? I know Wednesdays are your day to pick but if you take forever I’m just gonna put on whatever I want and you can suck it.”

All four boys' heads snapped up to the window to the loft, but whoever was up there couldn’t be seen. All they could see was that the loft had clearly gotten a makeover. What used to be an upper level where Levi stored surplus supplies now looked like it had a plush velvet couch, lava lamps and plants in it.

“Alright alright! I’ll get on it.” Levi called back up, shaking his head and chuckling to himself as he walked toward the central sound system behind the counter to scroll through Spotify playlists.

“Who the fuck is that and what have you done to the loft?” Josh asked, hopping up to sit on the counter.

“That would be the very best thing that’s ever fallen into my lap. A.k.a my new store and venue manager Maven. She moved back to the area after living in Hollywood for a few years managing bands and she completely changed my life. We finally have consistent stock, a longstanding line up at the club and I have had the time to start photography again. Truly a godsend, if not occasionally a pain in my ass. She turned the loft into a breakroom of sorts. There’s a couch and table up there now. She practically lives up there sometimes.”

“Damn she must be some woman if she finally got you to get your shit together with that club.” Sammy piped up.

“She’s hellfire, I’ll tell yah that.” Levi chuckled, finally hitting play on a playlist. The first bars of Surfin USA by the Beach Boys came on the surround system and matching groans came out of Jake downstairs and Maven upstairs.

“Not this shit again!” Maven yells. Jake chuckled to himself. Hellfire indeed.

“It’s my day to pick so suck it!” Levi called back before faux stage whispering to the boys “I mostly just play this to piss her off.”

Levi clapped his hands together once “Well boys, It’s close enough to five o'clock and I owe you a beer. Let’s head over to Little Fleet for some grub and beers and we can catch up.”

Josh grimaced as he sucked down the last bit of his coffee before lobbing the empty cup into the trash at the end of the counter. “You still make shit coffee Levi.”

“It’s the one thing I wouldn’t let Maven fix.” Levi said with a grin as all five men exited out the back door.

~0~

The boys took a week to relax, as per Levi’s request. They spent the days hiking the shore, kayaking and drinking beer around the fire. It had been way too long since they’d done this. The release of The Battle at Garden’s Gate had been exhilarating and the fans' response had been everything they’d hoped for. People seemed to love the album and they were all so proud. But with press interviews and touring, they hadn’t gotten more than a day or two to relax at a time. And they certainly hadn’t gotten a chance to get back to their favorite old haunts in years.

They stopped by the store almost every morning for a cup of coffee strong enough to jumpstart their hearts. Sometimes Levi joined them on their escapades, and sometimes he stayed behind to help out at the store. The boys spent a few afternoons sifting through albums and strumming on some of Levi’s vintage guitars.

Mostly they caught up on each other's lives. The boys recounted their more personal lives that happened outside the coverage of the album and Levi talked about the past few years of his life in Traverse City. Levi told them all about Maven and how she was practically his little sister. They laughed. They drank. They had a blast.

The boys noticed Levi was a little on edge occasionally, typically when they heard someone shuffling upstairs or equipment moving around in the backroom of the shop. They assumed it was Maven but weren’t sure, since they had yet to see her in the flesh. A week from their arrival they were all sitting in lawn chairs in the alley behind the store, smoking cigs and drinking their coffee when Sam finally asked.

“So, why haven’t we met your precious Maven yet? Hiding her from us or something?”

Levi shifted a bit in his chair. “Um..” he coughed out a laugh. “I am actually. Yes. But it’s the other way around, I’m hiding you from her.”

“Afraid she’ll fan-girl or something?” Josh commented as he ashed his cigarette.

“In… a sense.” Levi coughed. “But in quite the opposite way you’re imagining.”

“She’s a fan then?” Sammy piped up.

“She loves your music. A lot.” Levi sniffed and coughed again. “It’s a real safe haven for her. When she’s having a bad day I catch her upstairs laying on the floor smoking a J with sound cancelling headphones blasting your albums as loud as she can.”

“Exactly how it’s meant to be enjoyed. With a joint in hand.” Jake chimes in.

“Yeah..” Levi toes the asphalt a bit with his boots, but doesn’t continue.

“Soooo” Sammy drawls “Why can’t we meet her? We’re no stranger to super fans. I’m sure she’s cool.”

“Um, well. It’s a bit complicated.” Levi heaves a sigh before flicking his cigarette butt into the coffee canister at the center of their little circle. “I suppose I can trust you guys. You’re friends. Do you remember the huge lawsuit that the band Undercover Heart went through last year? The one about the um” He coughs again, “Rape of one of their staff members by the lead singer Ryan?”

“Yes. That shit was horrific man.” Danny spoke up. “I read all the details I could. They kept the poor girl's identity private but goddamn I felt so bad for her. She was a badass for filing that suit though.”

“Yeah. She was.” Levi breathed. “So, this is strictly off record and if you repeat this to anyone I will skin you all alive, famous rock stars be damned.”

“Jesus Levi.” Jake said.

“It was her.” Levi choked out. “Maven. That’s why she ran back from Hollywood and ended up here. That dude messed her up and she just… she struggles with meeting famous bands now. You know how many people cycle through this joint writing stuff. She just… has a really fuckin hard time with it sometimes. Particularly bands she likes. I think it’s because once you meet someone, and in her case, discover how much of a monster they can be, their music isn’t… safe anymore.”

“Fuck.” Jake said, flicking his cigarette into the canister.

“Well I feel terrible for joking about her being a fangirl.” Josh mutters.

“She just genuinely loves you guys a lot. I never really told her I was an old friend because I didn’t want her to be worried about y’all stopping by. I just know that if she knows you’re here she’ll take off and avoid coming by the shop as much as she can and not only do I need her here, but I think she needs the safety of the shop too. I didn’t want to wreck it.” Levi sighs again. “I know she’ll find out you’re here eventually, it’s inevitable. I just was a coward and didn’t want to break the news to her.”

“She was a pretty well known band manager wasn’t she?” Danny asks. “She like… completely made Undercover Heart what it was. Before they hired her they were slated to be a one hit wonder but she hauled them into relevancy basically by her will alone.”

“Yeah. She basically built that man's career for him. She gave him everything, and he took everything from her. If I ever see the man I’m liable to get my ass thrown in prison.” Levi mutters.

“I’ll help.” Danny says immediately.

All five sit in silence for a few minutes, smoking the last of their cigarettes. When they’d all finished, they stood and stretched to head back inside the shop.

“So yeah. Anyway, If you see her that’s fine, just… well now you have context for… her.” Levi says as he yanks open the door.

A few steps into the back hallway, Levi suddenly halts, causing all four boys to nearly bash into each other. The front door to the shop had crashed open and there were footsteps stomping across the store toward the front desk.

“Listen Levi,” Maven’s tense voice carried down the back hall. “I know Wednesdays are usually your day for music but I’m having an absolute shit fucking day so I’m playing Greta all day and there’s absolutely nothing you can fucking do about it, kapeesh?”

The very opening chords of Edge of Darkness scratch through the speakers after she finishes her sentence and the boys all exchange a slightly amused look, grins spread on all of their faces.

“Kapeesh.” Levi calls out to her. He spins and silently nods to the boys to head toward the back door. The boys attempt to be as quiet as they can as they creep toward the door.

“Also, Levi?” Maven calls again. Everyone halts in their tracks. “You said there was a band coming in soon. Are they here yet? Do you need me to set up the backroom?”

“Uh, yeah they’re here.” Levi squeaks. All five men share nervous looks. “They’re uh… up at the house.” He cringes at his lie. “I’m getting an equipment list from them today and then you can get started.

“Cool cool.” Maven calls back. “Do you think I’ll like their stuff?”

“Uh. Yeah.” Levi grins then. “I think you will.”

“Wicked.” Maven calls back.

All five men repress giggles as they skedaddle out the back door and into the alley.

~0~

The next morning the boys wake up to a group text from Levi.

COME BY THE SHOP ASAP. COME IN BACK DOOR. HEAD DOWN THE STAIRS TO THE BOOTH. BE AS QUIET AS YOU CAN.

A weird request, but they did as they were told. They all piled into the SUV they had rented and headed to the shop. Danny peeled open the back door as quietly as he could, and Sammy opened the door to the stairs. They tiptoed down and through the door at the end of the stairs that opened into the booth of a sound studio. Levi sat in front of all the mixing boards with a cup of coffee to his lips. He glanced over at them and softly said “coffees on the table.”

“Why the weird text?” Jake asked.

“Because of that.” Levi responded softly, pointing through the dark glass into the soundstage.

The sound stage was littered with mismatched rugs, and a few milk crates that doubled as tables. There was a gorgeous seafoam green drum set toward the back wall and stands full of various guitars and basses. Along the left wall was a piano and a Mellotron set up exactly to the specifications Sam sent over. However, with all these beautiful instruments to look at that would normally catch their eye, it was the woman sitting on stool in the center, cradling a dark purple Fender guitar that made Jake stop in his tracks.

Maven, Jake had to guess that’s who it was, was wearing checkered distressed pants, with a ripped up old band t-shirt cropped at her ribs, revealing a sliver of the rounded part of her stomach. Over top she was wearing an orange leopard print cardigan that ran down to her thighs. Around her neck was a series of long necklaces, and her wrists were adorned with interlacing leather bands.

She was plucking out a melody with her eyes closed, rocking back and forth on the stool. Jake had seen countless numbers of people playing the guitar before. On the road, in the studio, studying old masters on YouTube. There was nothing overly special about the way she was sitting or playing, but he felt a little bit like he couldn’t breathe.

“She never fuckin plays anymore man.” Levi whispered. “It felt like magic hearing music coming out of the basement this morning. I just felt like you should see it.”

The melody she was playing was sad. Haunting is a better way to put it, and Jake couldn’t look away. Not even when Sammy placed a cup of burning hot coffee into his hands. She was moving her head along with her playing, the strands of her dark messy hair shaking back and forth. The group watched in silence as she played out the riff a few times, Levi cranked the volume of the mics in the space and they could hear her humming softly.

“She has a strong presence.” Josh murmured.

Maven suddenly stopped. Everyone froze as she heaved a sigh and stood from the stool to put the guitar back on it’s rack.

“You in there Levi?” Maven said then. The boys still didn’t move a muscle. Jake’s head was spinning, having finally seen the face that went with the voice he’d heard in the loft for a week. She was beautiful. He couldn’t even really put his finger on why, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Even seeing her through the thick dark glass of the studio.

Levi hit the button to the mic in the booth and responded “Yah.” He paused before adding. “Sounded good.”

Maven snorted in a self-deprecating way and said “Thanks.”

Levi hit the mic button again and said “You should play more.”

“Don’t push it Levi.” Maven snapped back. Levi released the button to his mic and let out a heavy sigh. “Can you check some levels on the lines for me? I think I have everything pretty good but I want to make sure before they get here today.”

“Sure.” Levi replied.

Maven pulled the amp cord out of the Fender she had been playing on and plugged it into another guitar, one more similar to the guitars that Jake regularly used while they wrote.

“Are we looking for a punk or a rock-y sound?” Maven asked.

“Um.” Levi hesitated. “Rock. Their sound is like…” He tossed a small smile over his shoulder at the boys. “Like Greta’s actually.”

“Dope. I hope they’re not just copying the boys. They’ve got a mellotron in here and everything.” The boys smiled. She pounded out a few chords on the guitar. “Good?”

Levi looked over at Jake for confirmation. Jake, who still had not taken his eyes off Maven, nodded.

“Yeah, that should be good for raw sound. They can play with stuff too. They’re a pretty well educated bunch.” Levi called back.

“Thank god.” Maven snorted. “Not like that indie punk bunch you booked last month who needed me to do fucking all their sound mixing for them.”

“Maven, I don’t think they kept asking you down here because they need help with their sound.”

Maven just rolled her eyes at that.

They repeated the process with each instrument, Levi silently asking for confirmation from the respective Greta member until they were sure the sound lines were all functioning properly.

“Great work kid.” Levi called into the studio.

“Ew don’t call me kid. I’m a 27 year old woman.” Maven called back.

Levi chuckled. “You’re a kid to me.”

“Whatever.” Maven muttered. “I’m gonna go take a walk along the beach. Smoke a little. Text me if they need me.”

“Will do.” Levi called back. The boys all tensed, looking for places to hide, or to run up the stairs and back into the alley. Luckily, Maven took the back door out of the studio and up another hallway instead.

“Well boys, it’s all you.” Levi said. “Text if you need anything.”

Sam piped up and said “Yeah actually, can you pick my brother’s jaw up off the floor?”

“Jake see pretty lady play guitar and Jake brain break.” Josh teased.

“You guys suck.” Jake grumbled.

Levi cackled. “I thought you’d like her.”

~0~

Maven walked along the coast of the bay and absentmindedly smoked a joint. It was an overcast and drizzly day which meant there was no one around, which she preferred anyway. She was feeling on edge. The drizzle was very slowly building a small sheen of water on her arms and hair, but she didn’t mind. The cool water and gentle breeze combination was perfect.

Maven sat her butt down in the sand and stared out at the waves. She normally wore headphones on her walks, her world was a near constant stream of music, but she had opted for silence today.

Levi was being weird. He was edgy around her all week, sending her out every morning for tasks and disappearing without saying where he was going around 4:30 every day. She had come to the conclusion that whatever band was in town this week was a pretty big name. Or big enough that he was nervous about her being around them. She sighed. She hated when he tiptoed around her. Maven didn’t blame him. When she first started working at the shop she had had a couple pretty bad PTSD episodes that had scared the shit out of him. She owed him everything for staying with her, talking her down and making sure she was fed and had water when she got into one of her states.

Levi was her best friend, to put it mildly. He cared for her, kept her safe and in return she busted her ass at his store making sure they had the best products, the best shows and that their artist getaway was something that people would go back and tell their friends about. She loved Levi like an older brother, and he cared for her like his little sister. She would forever be grateful to whatever power in the universe made her stumble into The Edge two years ago.

She had been high out of her mind, as she had been most days after she came running back to Michigan with her tail between her legs, and Levi had been struggling with an amp in the shop. She had walked in, spotted his struggle and didn’t even say a word to him, just walked over and fixed the wiring so that it was functional again. Levi had looked up from where he sat on the floor and said “You don’t happen to need a job do you?”

The rest was essentially history. It only took two months of seeing him every single day, and him not letting her sour moods go by unnoticed, for her to spill her guts over some bourbon one night. About Ryan and Undercover Heart and how badly the whole situation fucked her up. How after she’d recorded her testimony she’d boarded the next flight to Grand Rapids and hightailed it up north. She came crash landing into Traverse City because she’d always loved it as a kid, and figured it would be a great place to start over. The small town she’d grown up in had too many people who knew her.

He was extra careful with bands for a while. Never letting her be alone in a room with too many male band members, and carefully vetting everyone who came through. Eventually she told him off about treating her like a porcelain doll and he backed down a bit, giving her free reign over lots of the equipment set ups and giving her plenty of hours in the shop by herself. She was happy to do so, so Levi could focus on fixing up the artist house and starting his photography again.

But he was still very gentle with her sometimes, and she’d always love him for it even when it pissed her the fuck off.

Once she’d smoked the joint down to the roach, she tucked the end into her pocket. It was sacrilegious to litter near the lake. It was too precious to be fucked with. She meandered back toward the shop. Her plan was to grab her bag and head back to let her Pitbull, Stacy, out for a walk and pee. The girl had been cooped up all morning and Maven felt bad.

She threw her whole body against the front door, as the latch often stuck, and the loud sound of the chimes clanged in the empty space. She rolled her eyes. Of course Levi left the shop unattended and unlocked. It was Traverse City, no one was gonna rob them, but what if someone wanted to buy something?

She was humming softly to herself as she made her way around the edge of the counter and plopped down on the stool by the register. She whipped out her phone to ask Levi where he was. She had the message halfway typed when the door behind her, the one that led to the staff restroom, popped open.

“You know, crime is especially low in this town but that doesn’t mean someone wouldn’t come in here and try to steal your precious coffee maker.” She tossed over her shoulder.

“Oh.” Was all that came back. It was decidedly not Levi’s voice. Maven spun back quickly.

“Sorry I…” But that’s as far as she got. She was suddenly face to face with Jake Kizska and all thoughts quickly left her brain.

They both stared at each other for a long moment. Maven couldn’t quite figure out why he looked just as shocked to see her as she was to see him. He also almost looked afraid for some reason that Maven couldn’t figure out.

He was dressed in an outfit she’d seen him wear plenty of times. A black button up, half unbuttoned, loose fitting light wash jeans and a pair of well worn boots. His wrists were full of bracelets and his hair was longer than the last time she’d seen footage of their concerts, well past his collarbones at this point.

“Hi.” Jake finally broke the silence. “I’m Jake.” He reached out his hand for a handshake.

“I know.” Maven replied, and then coughed. Why did you say that you freak?

Suddenly the front door bell chimed again, and Maven whipped her head to see Levi coming in the front door. She stood abruptly from her stool, skirted around Jake’s outstretched hand, and out from behind the counter. She scooped up her leather satchel on her way.

She headed straight at Levi. He glanced over his shoulder and saw an apologetic Jake looking forlorn and lowering his hand back to his side.

“Oh hey Maven-”

“Hey dumbass, don’t leave the store unattended again. I’m going home to check on Stacy. Probably won’t be back for the rest of the day.” Maven spit as she stormed past him toward the front door.

“Maven wait-”

But she was already outside, the hinges bringing the heavy wood crashing back into the frame. The chime of the bells rang through the space.

“Sorry.” Jake muttered.

“Not your fault. I knew she’d find out eventually. Right now she’s probably just pissed I didn’t tell her. Which she has every right to be.” Levi sighed.

After a few more beats of silence Jake spoke again. “Who’s Stacy?”

Levi huffed a laugh. “That would be her Pitbull.”

“Oh.” Jake said again. He felt crazy because his brain couldn’t come up with anything else to say. She was prettier up close. She smelled like the Lake and weed and sandalwood. He really wished she’d taken his hand. He shook his head trying to find his brain in it somewhere.

The other three boys came clambering up the stairs and into the store. They all looked between Levi, who was still standing in the middle of the shop, and Jake behind the counter.

“Are you two playing freeze tag or something?” Sam quipped.

“Jake met Maven.” Levi responded. The boys' heads whipped toward Jake.

“And… I’m guessing it… went well?” Danny questioned.

Levi finally walked back toward the counter. “She left for the day. This is on me. I should have told her y’all were here.” He snagged his keys from below the counter and walked toward the front door to lock up. “I’m closing early, boys. Let’s go get a beer.”

“Kowabunga baby.” Josh said with a grin.

~0~

Maven sat curled up on her velvet couch, Stacy was her little spoon. There was incense burning, a bottle of wine open on the side table and a lit joint in the ashtray. She had changed into a giant t-shirt and boxer shorts. The soft sounds of John Denver playing off her record player.

However, none of these things were easing her mind.

She was pissed, mostly. At herself. At Levi. She was pissed he didn’t tell her they were coming. She was pissed that he felt he couldn’t tell her. She was pissed that she had acted like a freak in front of Jake.

The anxiety was an endless pit in her stomach. She couldn’t go back there tomorrow. She couldn’t see any of those people. Not when she felt like this.

She whipped out her phone and quickly shot a message to Levi, before chugging her whole glass of red wine and snagging the joint out of the ashtray.

~0~

Levi’s phone dinged on the table where all of the guys sat drinking beers and chatting. Levi glanced at it and quickly picked it up when he saw her name.

“It’s Maven.” He said.

“What did she say?” Jake asked, sitting up a bit in his chair.

“Fuck.” Levi said, tossing his phone on the table, still unlocked.

All four boys leaned in to read the screen.

CASHING IN ALL MY VACATION DAYS. I’LL BE OUT FOR TWO WEEKS.

“Fuck indeed.” Josh said, pounding back the rest of his beer.

#jake gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #greta fic #jake fic #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta fan fleet fic #peaceful army

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viking-raider · 3 years

Text

The Immortal Sky - Part VI *Mature*

Summary: A decision is made for the next step in your and Henry’s journey, and the events that happen afterwards, will have lasting consequences for everyone involved.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/You

Word Count: 9,773

Chapters: I II III IV V

Warning: Futuristic!AU, Dystopian!AU, Language, Angst, Fluff, Dark themes, blood, torture, kidnapping, interrogation, imprisonment, mentions of past violence and sex

Inspiration: I’ve always wanted to write something like this.

Author’s Note: Tell me what you think! Thank you to @wondersofdreaming for being lovely, being my beta and putting up with my crazy muse! You’re amazing!

Even though you woke up in bed alone, you could hear Henry shuffling and rummaging around the room. But, you didn't open your eyes or move as you listened to him. You didn't want the magic that had culminated between you during the night to vanish, ruined by Henry forcing you to return to London with him, and starting another blow out argument.

That wouldn't end with another round of atomic sex.

When the room was quiet again, you rolled over onto your back as the sound of the toilet flushing filled the room and the sink came on. You sighed, looking out the bright window, the sun starting its slow ascent into the sky.

“You're awake.” Henry's chipper voice said as he came out of the bathroom, fully clothed. “How'd you sleep?” He asked, smiling at you.

“Better than I have in the last several days.” You replied, forcing a smile back at him.

“Same.”

He could see the conflict inside of you amplify so much more, and felt his heart grow sore. The magic was started to evaporate into the air between you.

“I don't want to rush you. But,” He sighed, carding a hand through his curls. “It's a long walk to where we're going, and only so many hours in the day.” He told you, fidgeting and chewing on the corner of his lip.

You hesitated for a moment, sighing heavily, before throwing back the duvet and getting out of bed. “I want to take a shower first, if that's okay with you? It's been a while since I had one.”

“Of course.” Henry nodded, hoping the hot water would help soothe you some.

Nodding, you took your previously discarded clothing and took them into the bathroom, softly closing the bathroom door behind you, just needing a moment of privacy. You put your clothing aside and stared at your fragmented reflection in the mirror, the tired smudges under your eyes and the just plain tired and melancholy shine to your eyes. Letting out a hard breath, you started the shower, and even though the water was still cold and heating up, you stepped underneath the icy spray, shivering once before just standing there and letting it wash over you.

Your body was so sore and worn out from walking and the ongoing situation, but you could also feel the throb between your legs from having sex with Henry; it wasn't entirely uncomfortable or painful, but it was unmistakably and noticeably there, none-the-less. The water finally heated up and you washed yourself the best you could with the meager options to do so.

“Yeah?” You called out, at Henry's soft knock.

Henry opened the bathroom door. “This is the only towel the room has.” He said, holding up the towel he had dried himself with the night before.

“Oh, thanks.” You smiled at him, turning off the shower and stepped out, taking the towel from him.

“Of course.” He smiled back at you, then actually dared to kiss you on the cheek, before going out again.

You felt a flutter of butterflies swarm your stomach at the warm touch of his soft lips on your damp cheek; it felt nice. Drying off and getting dressed, you joined Henry back in the room and found him opening his backpack, removing your shoes from inside. Smiling, he held them out for you to take, which you did, your fingers brushing as you did. The air between you and Henry was starting to get thick again, you could feel the anxiety inside of you start to grow, wanting to bolt and run for Bristol; Henry be damned. Henry was also on edge, trying to fight the feeling to grab you and throw you over his shoulder, marching you both back to London, to end this rising disaster.

But, both of you fought it.

Henry opened the room door for you and you stepped out into the hall, before going down the stairs and returning the room key to the front desk, a woman was running it this morning, the previous front desk clerk nowhere to be seen. Both of you paused at the hotel entrance, taking a deep breath and exiting into the cool morning air.

“Let me see.” Henry said, pulling out his mobile and bringing up the Runner map. “There's a supply store right over there.” He pointed across the street to a store front, the front window boarded up with plywood. “See if we can scrap up some breakfast.” He suggested, throwing you an encouraging smile.

“Okay.” You nodded, but didn't smile back.

Crossing the street and opening the supply store door, a soft chime of a bell as you did, the supplier appeared from the back, giving you and Henry a look, but didn't say anything to either of you. You roamed around the makeshift shelves lining the space, while Henry found where they stored the food and grabbed a couple of things, for breakfast and the trek. Going back outside, you and Henry found a relatively intact park bench and sat down, splitting a blueberry muffin and a bottle of water for breakfast.

Sighing, when the food was gone, you got up and turned towards London and started that way. Henry stared at you for a moment, still seated on the bench. His lips slightly parted as he watched you start in the direction of the capital city, he was thoroughly surprised by your decision to return to London with him, without him making you, or doing his best to convince you into it. It made his heart both skip a beat, that you had chosen him, but also stop, because you had chosen him over your brother.

Frowning, Henry stood up, he had already made his choice, a long time ago. So, he caught up with you as you continued to walk down the cracked and uneven sidewalk, grabbing the back of your elbow and pulling you to a stop. You turned to look up at him, your face was angry, but your bottom trembled with held back tears. Sighing softly, Henry folded you up into his arms and hugged you against him, letting you cry yourself out into his chest.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered softly, stroking your hair. “But,” He cleared his throat. “You're heading in the wrong direction.”

“I know which way I'm going, Cavill.” You replied, sniffling up at him.

“I know you know where you're going, love. But, you're not going in the direction you want to go in.” He clarified, pressing his lips to your warm forehead.

“I picked you. Mikey knows the bullshit he got himself into.” You huffed, frustrated you were even talking about it. “Made bed and lie in it, all that jazz.” You told him, rubbing at your eyes.

Henry smiled down at you, tipping your head back a little bit more and kissed you soundly on the lips, before putting his hands on your shoulders and turning you towards Bristol. “We are going this way, Nugget.”

“Henry.” You sighed, shaking your head.

“Neither of us will be able to live with the choice of just going back to London.” He replied, softly. “You won't be able to live knowing you could have prevented your brother's potential death, and I wouldn't be able to live with knowing you chose me and possibly resenting me for it, and I can't stand the thought of him getting hurt.” He explained to you.

“Stupid as he might be for becoming a Runner, in the first place.” He added, with a roll of his eyes.

“You're really going to go to Bristol with me, to get my dumbass brother?” You asked, turning back to him, and lifting a skeptical brow; sure he was just testing you.

“Yes.” He nodded, giving you a serious face.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” He retorted, lifting his own brow. “I told you, why.”

“I don't believe it.” You replied, folding your arms.

Henry narrowed his eyes at you. “You just want to hear me say, I love you.” He chuckled, seeing straight through you.

“I did.” You grinned at him.

“You silly girl.” He sighed, smirking. “Come on, we only have so much time to reach the next safe place.” He said, kissing you again, took your hand, and started walking towards Warmley.

“And, I love you.”

It had taken a while, and many things had come to light, but you and Henry finally made it to Bristol.

“So, how do we find him, now that we're here?” Henry asked, resting his hand on the small of your back protectively, as you both stood to the side of the bustling street.

“I have no clue.” You sighed, for the first time, you were starting to feel discouraged. “What do you suggest, High Marshal?” You asked, looking up at him with half a smug smile and half pleading with him.

Henry took a deep breath in as he looked around, biting his lip. He had been thinking about how you both were supposed to find your brother once you arrived, ever since he decided he would go with you to Bristol in search of him. You couldn't just start asking anyone and everyone, it would invite more attention than Henry wanted to attract, especially with people out looking to harm you.

“I might know someone.” He sighed again, rubbing the side of his tired face.

“Who?” You asked, blinking at him.

“Someone I went to school with.” He explained, taking your hand and leading you through the crowd. “He was once a Beta Marshal, until he was found to be letting Runners through his Sector, for a portion of their profits. He probably would have just been fined for it, if he hadn't attempted blackmailing an Alpha Cleric that was presiding over his case. So, he was stripped of his offices and banished to Bristol.”

“I'm just not sure if he's still here, or if he's even still alive, for that matter.” He told you, side eyeing a guy that tried to nudge him in the ribs. “It's been nearly three years.”

“Well, how are we going to find him?” You asked, pressing closer to him.

“Most people that held a high office that have been banished to Bristol hide in the lowest Sector, to try and avoid others they might have sent here themselves.”

“And you know all of this, how?”

“I'm a High Marshal, it's my job to know these things.” He replied, gripping your hand even tighter as the crowd thickened.

You thread your way through the Sectors, until you reach the unguarded and trashed gate of Sector Fifteen. Bristol had a trashy vibe to it as you walked its crowded streets, but the almost empty streets of Sector Fifteen were, by far, worse. The dark, dank and foul smelling air hung heavily in a haze, that made your eyes water and the back of your nose sting. You could feel Henry's body tense beside you, going into full protective mode, on high alert for anything out of the ordinary, for any possible and would be threat to either of you.

“Who is this guy?” You whispered to him, too frightened to speak any louder.

“Ramsey Kellan.” Henry replied, his jaw tight.

“Lost?” A raspy voice asked from behind them.

“No.” Henry growled back, turning towards the voice. “Looking for an acquaintance.”

“Oh, and who might that be?” A sleazy and rail thin man replied, looking you and Henry over.

“Ramsey Kellan.”

“What do you want with Remy?”

“That's between him and I.” Henry hissed, glaring darkly at the other male.

“I'll tell ya where to find him.” He answered, his eyes shifting over to you. “For a price.” He chuckled, showing a mouthful of black and missing teeth as he grinned at you.

“Or I could just beat it out of you.” Henry barked at him, his hand practically crushing yours.

“Hey, no need for violence, man.” The guy huffed, looking disappointed. “He lives over there.” He pointed down the street to a dingy building, over half the windows were missing from it. “Third floor.”

You expected Henry to turn and start that direction, but he didn't move, staring after the guy as he walked away. Only when he vanished from view, did Henry turn on a dime and started inside. You climbed the three flights of stairs to Ramsey Kellan's floor, looking at the name on each of the flat doors until you finally came up to the scuffed door with 'Kellan - 309' on it in black, block letters.

“Stand right there.” Henry told you, pointing to a spot beside the door. “Don't say anything or make a peep.”

“Why?” You asked, narrowing your eyes up at him.

“Because I asked you too.” He replied, heaving a sigh and looking at you, the pinnacle of his exhaustion showing through his blue eyes.

“Fine.” You sighed back and did as he asked.

Taking one more deep breath, Henry lifted his fist and knocked on Kellan's door. It took a moment before the door jerked open and a thin male appeared. He looked at Henry for a moment, his expression angry, before it widened with shock and horror.

“Cavill?”

“Kellan.” Henry replied, looking the former Beta Marshal over.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Ramsey asked, blinking at his former colleague.

“Looking for you.” Henry answered, folding his arms over his chest.

“Don't tell me the straight laced Henry Cavill has fallen from grace?” Ramsey laughed, thoroughly amused at the thought of it.

“Not exactly.” He huffed, rolling his eyes. “I need your help finding someone here in Bristol.”

Ramsey's look hardened some and he shifted uneasily. “Who?”

“A Runner for Jaxon Quinn, Michail Keagan.”

Ramsey gulped thickly, his eyes shifting around, unable to meet Henry's stern glare. “I can't help you, Henry.” He mumbled and started to close his door.

Henry's hand shot out, preventing Ramsey from closing his door. “I know that's a load of shit. You've had the low down on every Runner there is, and I know you still do. So, you're going to tell me where to find him.”

“And what do I get out of it?” Ramsey hissed back. “Last time, I lost my job and my livelihood. This time around, I’d lose my life. So, what can you give me, Cavill, in exchange for the information.”

“Maybe, I tell the Marshal Council you helped me bring down one of the top Crime Bosses England has. Perhaps with a word like that, from a High Marshal with ties to the Cleric and Royal Councils, it could get you back into London.” Henry told him, keeping his voice low, but stern.

“You think you could do that?” Ramsey asked, sounding desperate and surprised.

“Only if you tell me what I want to know.” Henry told him, narrowing his eyes. “And if you lie to me, I'll make sure Crime Bosses and Bristol are your last worry.” He added, the dangerous threat dripping from his voice.

You heard the gulp and whimper that came out of Ramsey, you saw the sheer look of evil on Henry's face as he said it, and had to slap a hand over your mouth to hide your giggle, biting your lips. You were terrified and surprised by the pure authority Henry had pulsing off of him, even more so than usual, but part of you was also turned on by it.

“Come in, I don't want the neighbors to hear this.” Ramsey said, opening the door again.

Henry turned his head, looking at you, then motioned to the open door. Nodding at him, you pushed off the wall and stepped in front of him, giving Ramsey a tight smile as he blinked at you, surprised.

“Who the hell is this?” He snapped, looking over your head to Henry.

“None of your business, so move.” He barked back, pushing Ramsey out of the way.

You shyly smiled at Ramsey as you slipped by him, after Henry, who breezed into Ramsey's flat, looking around it with unmasked disgust. He turned in the middle of Ramsey's living room, tightly folding his arms against his chest, glowering at the former Beta Marshal, with screaming High Marshal authority. You felt sheepish as Ramsey closed his flat door and turned towards Henry, standing between them, in what could easily be no man's land.

“What do you want, High Marshal Cavill?” Ramsey asked, with smug mockery.

“I want you to tell me where I can find Michail Keagan.” Henry replied, the crease between his brows deepening. “He's an Adjutant Runner for Jaxon Quinn, here in Bristol.”

“You can't just waltz into a city like Bristol, and start demanding people tell you where top Runners are at, Cavill.”

“That's why I came to you, Kellan. You're already doing the waltz, so tell me where he is.”

“And if I don't?” Ramsey asked, narrowing eyes at Henry and rolling his shoulders.

Henry's arms dropped to his sides and he took three giant steps towards him, suddenly reaching out and nabbing Ramsey by the shirt, then slamming him against the nearest wall. Ramsey grunted, all the air left lungs as his back connected to the concrete wall. He was dazed for a second, black and flashing spots in his blood shot eyes, blinking rapidly to clear them away, and trying to focus on the rage he felt coming off of Henry.

“I'll beat your face in.” Henry hissed, his teeth gritted and blue eyes smoldering.

Your mouth dropped open, blinking at the rage Henry was exuding as he pinned Ramsey to the wall. It was no wonder that the blue of a flame burned the hottest. But, you were worried that Henry might actually harm Ramsey, and as much as you wanted to find your brother, you didn't want anyone getting hurt for it.

“All right, all right!” Ramsey squeaked and slumped against the wall, practically shrinking before Henry. “I'll find him for ya.” He gulped, frightened and shaking.

“Good.” Henry replied, his voice low, and moved away from him, still tense.

Chewing on his lip for a moment, before slowly sliding along the wall towards his coffee table, where his laptop was sitting, Ramsey flipped it open and sat down on the couch, he typed quickly, his fingertips clacking on the black keys as he squinted at the screen. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure everyone in the building could hear it, while you watched him work. Henry stood in place, eyes burning into Ramsey, like it would make him work faster, as seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours.

“It looks like this Runner is living in Sector Three, while he's being trained to be an Adjutant Runner.” Ramsey finally said, rubbing at his face. “With his handler, Knox Monroe. Who is a very hardcore Runner. I really wouldn't go messing about with him.”

“Why?” You dared to ask, eyes darting to Henry.

“Knox has brought in more revenue than any Runner, for the last five years running.” Ramsey replied, looking up from his laptop screen. “He was caught, once, and the Hernandez family bailed him out.” He looked up at Henry. “You know how serious they have to be about him, if they're willing to keep him in such an elevated state, instead of tossing him out of Bristol on his ass.”

“I do.” Henry nodded, his expression and body language never changed, but there was a small twinge in his stomach. “Where in Sector Three are they at?” He asked, without hesitation.

“Are you--” He started to protest, but stopped, seeing Henry's face, and took a deep breath. “Sector Three, block twelve, there's a pub there, the Black Bone. Knox frequents it often enough and I'm sure, with how close a handler is to their Runner, he'll bring this Keagan with him. All you have to do is use your special High Marshal skills and stake the place out, until they show up.”

Henry shrugged his shoulders and rolled his neck, processing all the information that Ramsey had given the two of you. “I hope you're not lying, Ramsey.” He sighed, settling a tired eye on him.

“I'm not, Henry.” Ramsey sighed, rolling his eyes at him. “Especially, if you can get me out of this hell hole.”

“We'll see.” Henry huffed at him, turning back towards the door. “Come on.” He said to you, opening the door and letting you step out into the hall first.

The man you and Henry encountered walked around the corner of a building, moving out of your sight, but peeked around the corner, watching you and Henry enter the apartment building he directed you too. Narrowing his eyes at the building, he quickly turned away and hurriedly walked through the streets of Sector Fifteen. Rudely bumping into people to get them out of his way, before he finally reached the nearly pristine gate to Sector Fourteen, flashing his pass ID at the guards and breezed through as they opened the gate for him.

Swinging around a corner and kicking open the door of a bar, he sallied up to the bar, slapping his palms to the sticky and worn counter.

“Gideon, where's Aries?” He asked and leaned over the counter, reaching beneath it and grabbed the neck of a bottle that was there. “I need to talk to him.” He added, sitting back and spinning off the cap of the whiskey bottle.

“He's upstairs, where he always is, you dumb-fuck.” Gideon, the bartender, barked back at him, yanking the bottle out of his hand as he started to chug it down. “So, get fucking lost.” He barked, wiping the head of the bottle off with the hem of his shirt and secured the cap back on, storing it in its previous place.

He smiled up in Gideon's face, winked at him, then shoved away from the bar, twirling on his heels towards the back of the bar. Yanking open a hidden door in the wall, stomped his way up the stairs and pounded on the closed door at the top. After several minutes of relentless pounding, the door swung open to a burly male.

“Fuck you want, Atlas.” He hissed at him, his lip curled with distaste.

“I need to see Aries.” The man, Atlas, said, licking his lips and looking back at him. “It's important.”

“Get lost, Atlas.” He huffed and started closing the door.

“Who is it, Danny?” A voice in the room behind him called out.

“It's me, Aries!” Atlas yelled back, grinning smugly at Danny. “I have some information you might want!” He added, pressing through the door.

“Let him in.” Aries sighed, slumping back in his high backed chair. “What is it, Atlas?” He groaned, watching Atlas sashay into the room, picking through the various bottles strewn across the long, black table, until he found one that was reasonably full.

“There was a guy and a chick, in Sector Fifteen.” He said, taking several deep gulps of the clear liquid. “Huge fucker too, and she was a teeny thing. Cute..”

“What's the point, Atlas?” Aries huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don't have all night.”

“Well, it was the girl, you see.” Atlas replied, leaning against the edge of the table. “She looked familiar, and I don't mean, seen her in the whore house, familiar either.”

“I care why?”

“Because, she looked like that girl you got a memo on from the higher ups.” Atlas answered, grinning at Aries with smug confidence.

Aries's hand dropped from his face and looked across at Atlas, studying him. “Danny, hand me that memo tablet.” He said, holding his hand out to him, without taking his eyes off of Atlas.

Danny left the room for a quick moment and returned carrying the black, sleek tablet and carefully rested it in Aries's hand. Aries closed his hand around it and the screen came to life, he messed with it for a few minutes, before sliding it across the table to Atlas.

“Her?” He asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“Looks like her.” Atlas nodded, bending over the tablet.

Aries snapped out of his chair and strode across the room, yanking on a jacket. “Where did you see them?”

“Sector Fifteen, they were looking for Kellan.” Atlas explained, twisting around to follow him as he moved around the room.

“Fucking Ramsey.” Aries huffed, angrily. “Get him out.” He barked at Danny and pointed at Atlas as he made for the door.

Aries stormed down the stairs, shoving open the hidden door and scaring the new patrons that had come in after Atlas had gone up. He paid them no mind as he stormed out of the bar and towards Sector Fifteen, hoping to get to Kellan's flat before you and Henry left. But, he knew by the time he did get there, that you both were long gone. He still went up to have a visit with Ramsey though, wanting information.

“Aries!” Ramsey squeaked opening the door and found him there. “How's it going, man? It's been a--”

“Cut the shit, Kellan. Tell me where she is.” Aries hissed, cutting to the chase.

“Who?” Ramsey frowned at him, genuinely confused.

“The girl that was seen here today, with another fellow.” Aries explained to him, his eyes darkening.

Ramsey blinked at Aries a couple of times, his brain struggling to compute what Aries was saying. Who was the girl with Henry? He thought, his chest tightening. He refused to tell him who she was, and he seemed seriously protective of her. She must be someone of importance if Cavill was so protective of her, if Aries was so interested in her.

“I don't know who she is, Aries. Honestly.” He mumbled, running a hand down his face. “She came with a former colleague of mine.”

“And who might that be?”

“Henry Cavill.” Ramsey blurted out, obediently. “He's a High Marshal for the City of London.” He explained to him. “He came to me, with her, looking for a Runner. A Runner called Michail Keagan. He works for Quinn and is being trained by Knox. In Sector Three.”

“There's an active High Marshal in Bristol, looking for a Runner?” Aries asked, looking thunderstruck at the notion.

“Yes, Sir.” Ramsey nodded, gulping and fidgeting in place.

“Hernandez is going to lose his fucking mind.” Aries replied, raking a hand through his hair and turning on his feet. “I have to warn him.” He said to himself, already planning on going straight to Sector One to warn Hernandez about it, and you being in the city.

Within their grasp.

“Mr. Hernandez, Aries Novak to see you.”

Benji Hernandez looked up as he hunched over his desk, arms braced against the dark cherry wood. Rubbing at his tired face, he pushed off the desk and waved his hand for Aries to enter, rounding his desk to drop into his high-back leather chair.

“You can leave, Johnny.” He dismissed his assistant, then motioned to a chair before his desk. “Sit, Aries.”

“Yes, Sir.” Aries nodded, obediently and quickly taking the offered seat. “I have some very important information for you, Mr. Hernandez. I'm sure it'll make your day a sight better.” He rushed out, a bubble of excited and nervousness energy.

“What is it, Mr. Novak?” Benji sighed, lifting a brow at the other man.

“That girl you've been looking for,” Aries grinned, making the Devil look like a sweetheart. “She's here. In Bristol, of all places, and with a London High Marshal!”

Benji blinked at Aries a couple of times. “That little bitch is here, in my city!” He growled, his shoulders tensing.

“Yes, sir. She very much is.” Aries nodded, smiling even more. “One of my men saw her and the High Marshal at a former Beta Marshal's flat not three hours ago, in Sector Fifteen.”

“Where are they now?” Benji hissed, leaning forward, hand reaching for his phone.

“Kellan said, he gave them directions to the Black Bone pub in Sector Three. They're looking for Knox and his new Runner, Keagan.”

“Why are they looking for the two of them?” Benji asked, narrowing his eyes at Aries.

“He doesn't know, neither of them told him the reason behind it, just to tell them where they could be found.” He explained, rubbing his sweaty palms on his thighs, being near Benji had always given him the shakes, mostly because he knew what he was capable of.

Benji picked up the black receiver of his phone and pressed it to his ear with his shoulder, punching the glossy numbers with the tip of his index finger. “Ashe, I want you in my office. Now.” He barked into it, then slammed it back down into the cradle. “Aries, get out.” He huffed, jerking his head towards the door as he got up out of his chair and strode across the room to a table of decanters and glasses.

“Do-don't you wa--” Aries started to stammer.

“I don't want anything out of you other than what you've already given me, Mr. Novak.” Benji answered, cutting him off, as he poured himself a drink. “Unless, you're withholding something more?” He asked, turning back to Aries as he brought the full glass to his lips.

“No-no, sir!” Aries yelped, the blood draining from his face.

“Then, get the fuck out.” Benji huffed, rolling his eyes and downing the rest of the strong brown liquid.

Nodding his head, like a broken bobble-head, Aries pulled the door open as a man on the other side raised his hand to knock. The two men gulped and nodded at each other, then traded places.

“Ashe!” Benji called out, sounding a bit happier to see him than he had been to see Aries. “Come in and close the door.”

Ashe gave Aries with a short nod and closed the door on him. “How can I be of help, Mr. Hernandez?” He asked and folded his arms behind his back, giving Benji his full and undivided attention.

“There's someone of great importance in my city and someone else that can cause some other issues with her. I want you to go down to the Black Bone pub in Sector Three. I don't want you to grab them as soon as you see them. Watch them, then when they leave, grab them and bring them back here to hold.”

“Of course.” Ashe nodded. “Who would that be, sir?”

Benji crossed back to his desk and removed a tablet from his drawer, turning it on and flipping through it for a moment, before holding it out to Ashe. “That's her. She was in Twist's warehouse in London, waiting to be sold, when someone came in to look at Twist's collection, picked her out of the line-up and purchased her.” He explained to Ashe. “Not five minutes after purchasing her, Twist's warehouse was raided by the Marshal Council.”

“Come to find out, the guy who purchased her was working for the Council. Ordinarily, that wouldn't be an issue, but being that she was purchased during a Council Raid, she's a witness and can fuck my family's entire operation in London. So, I had a hit put out on her, if she's dead, she can't testify. Which would make the consequences of the trial less disastrous.”

“So, you want me to kill them?” Ashe asked, studying your face on the tablet's screen.

“No, I want you to bring them back here and put them in holding.” Benji replied, leaning back against the edge of his desk. “I want to find out what I can from them. See, if they know anything about the trial Twist and his men are being sent too. We might be able to cut out a few more people from the jury and not take such a massive hit to our operations.”

Ashe nodded and handed the tablet back to his boss. “I'll get on it right away, Sir.”

“Good.” Benji smiled, pleased.

“Eat.” Henry said, setting a plate of food in front of you.

“Why?” You frowned at him.

“Because, you look suspicious and it's hard to look suspicious when you're eating something.” He told you, handing you a fork and knife. “We don't need any attention to be drawn to us, while we wait for Knox and your brother to show up. So, eat your food and leave the room watching to me.”

“You're the boss.” You chuckled, nudging his knee with yours.

You and Henry had entered the Black Bone pub twenty minutes before, ordering food and drinks, while Henry put his vast experience of surveillance and undercover work to use, taking regular bites of food and sips of water as he pretended to stare at the flickering tv screen mounted above the bar top, showing some sporting event that took place in Bristol. While his actual attention, from his peripheral vision, was on the single entrance and exit the pub had. No one had come in or gone out since the pair of you entered the half packed establishment. You had already done a quick sweep of the patrons that dotted the place, none of them were your brother or looked like the picture of Knox that Ramsey had shown you just before you left his flat, in Sector Fifteen.

“There's enough grease in this to oil a car.” You commented, pushing the food on your plate around with your fork.

Henry's face broke out into a massive grin, his shoulders shaking as he laughed at your comment. “We already know you purr like an engine.” He teased back, making reference to the sound you had made the night before, as he pleasured you.

“Oh, dear god.” You giggled, your face hot with embarrassment. “Henry.” You grinned at him, shyly.

“It's the truth, and you know it, Nugget.” He chuckled back at you, his shoulder gently brushing yours as he leaned in to kiss your cheek.

“You wag that tail, like you're a Puppy.” You teased him back, rolling your eyes at him.

Henry had opened his mouth to make a comment to that, when the bell above the door rang and the door opened. His mouth snapped shut and his body language changed from that playful relaxation, to suspicious and high alert tension. His blue eyes darted to the new patron as they stepped into the pub, a male, about Henry's own height, but slimmer, though by no means less built. There was an air about him, that Henry felt on the other side of the room, a professional air, but that could be a by-product of the life he lived before being marooned in Bristol. But, Henry wasn't completely sure of that, and cast his eyes back to the tv, as the man scanned the room.

“Don't look over there.” Henry hissed as you started to turn your head towards the door.

“Sorry.” You mumbled and took another sip of your water. “But, you don't like him.” You pointed out, feeling how rock hard the muscles of his side were against yours.

“I don't let anyone in here.” Henry replied, forcefully relaxing himself. “Other than you.” He added, the corner of his lip twitching up into a soft smile.

“Well, as long as that's true.” You chuckled, resting your hand on his thigh.

Henry rested his hand on top of yours and gave you a sweet smile, squeezing it gently. “Since I met you.” He whispered, softly.

“Aw.” You cooed at him, turning your hand into his.

Squeezing your hand again, Henry turned his eyes back to the tv, watching the new patron move from the door to the bar, motioning to the bartender and ordering something to drink. The longer the man was there, the colder the feeling running up and down Henry's spine got, making him shiver with worsening paranoia.

“Are you done with your food?” He asked, looking at your plate.

“Yeah, I'm done.” You nodded, pushing it away from you.

“All right, we're going.” He said, standing up.

“But,” You started to protest, but the look on Henry's face said it all.

Nodding, you got up and followed him out of the pub, trying to keep up with his long strides as he hurried down the street, before taking a sharp turn into an alleyway. You frowned at him as he stopped at a brick wall.

“Come here.” He motioned you closer with his fingers. “Take this.” He pulled a plastic room key out of his back pocket and slipped it into your front pocket.

You frowned up at him, shaking your head. “What are you doing?” You asked, getting an anxious feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Meet me back at our room.” He told you, lacing his fingers together. “If I'm not back in an hour, do not come looking for me. Stay in the room, don't answer the door, unless you are sure it's me.” He instructed you, quickly.

“Henry?”

“Give me your foot.” He rushed you.

“Henry?”

“We don't have time, so give me your foot.” He barked at you, gritting his teeth as he tried to hold his temper.

Gulping, you placed your foot into his cupped hands and he boosted you up, to straddle the top of the brick wall. “Henry?” You panted, your anxiety turning into panic, realizing he wasn't going to follow after you.

“You'll be fine, just do what I told you to do.” He answered, taking a calming breath and squeezing your ankle, trying to reassure and calm you, as he looked back to the entrance of the alleyway and saw the guy from the pub appear.

“Go now, I'll be right behind you.”

“And if you're not?” You gulped, hands shaking.

“I will be. Now, go.” He told you. “I love you.” He whispered, softly.

You glanced up at the approaching man as he started towards you and didn't look all that happy. “I love you too.” You whimpered back, then disappeared on the other side of the wall.

“Good girl.” Henry sighed to himself, turning to face the guy, his quick footsteps echoing off the brick and metal surrounding the alleyway as he rushed Henry.

Henry had enough time to tense up his body, before Ashe bull rushed him, sending them both into the brick wall Henry had just sent you over. Grunting as his back connected to the bricks, knocking some of the air out of his lungs, Henry slid his body to the left as Ashe's fist came out and breezed by his head, crashing knuckles first into the grimy bricks behind him. Ashe howled and growled, drawing back his scrapped and throbbing hand, ugly black and purple bruises already forming on the swollen and bloody digits. Taking his distraction, Henry jabbed his own fist hard into Ashe's unprotected side, feeling his ribs crack under the force of his blow, and making Ashe double over, then drove his knee into Ashe's gut.

“I do mean to ruin your day.” Henry laughed, grabbing a handful of Ashe's blond hair and forcing his head back. “But, you're not going to get your filthy hands on her.”

“I'm afraid to disappoint you, but we will get that wee bitch.” Ashe panted, hand reaching into his back pocket and yanked something out of it, pressed it to the side of Henry's thick thigh and pressed a button on the side.

Henry's entire body became rigid and trembled, his eyes losing focus and twitching as several hundred volts of electricity coursed through him. Clicking the stun stick off and watching Henry slump against the wall and slide to the ground, Ashe stood up, flipping the stick in his hand, then pocketing it again, before removing his mobile from his front pocket.

“Hey, Sully. It's Ashe.” He chuckled, squatting down in front of an incapacitated Henry. “I didn't get the girl, but I did get the High Marshal, and I'm sure after a 'talking to' he'll fork over where to find her.” He explained to his handler, giving Henry a gloating pat on the cheek.

“I know he's not ideal, but he's a fucking High Marshal, think of the shit he knows, other than where the girl is? Benji won't be that pissed off about it, we'll get her once we've talked the good Marshal into telling us.” He laughed, poking Henry in the chest.

“Sweet! Send the boys over. He's a beast.”

A few minutes later, a group of guys arrived in the alleyway with Henry and Ashe, flanking Henry, who was still out for the count, and hauled him out of the alleyway and into a van, before speeding out of the Sector, back to Sector Three, where Benji and his team waited to interrogate him on where you were now hiding.

Your lungs were burning, by the time you ran back to the room you and Henry had rented in the Sector when you arrived. You hoped with all you had that Henry would be there waiting for you to open the door with some witty remark on how long it took you to get back, with your nugget sized legs. But, he wasn't and your already throbbing heart felt like it had been sent through a paper shredder. You let yourself into the room, locking it behind you and paced the room, a million worst and best case scenarios running through your head on why he wasn't back yet.

“Come on, Henry.” You gasped, chewing your lip to bits and wringing your hands. “Please, knock on the door.” You begged, staring at the room door. “Please, please, please.” You whimpered.

But, the knock never came. Not an hour later, or even three hours later.

You considered going back out to look for him and half opened the door to do so, before shaking your head and closing it again, knowing Henry would be pissed if he found you weren't there when he got back, or if you ran into each other on the street. So, you stayed locked in the room, restlessly pacing or staring out the window, hoping to see him approaching the building from the sidewalk five stories below.

“He's fine.” You mumbled to yourself, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “He's just toying with me. He's just standing in the hall, waiting for me to bolt out of the room, so he has something to tease me about. Claim I'm not good at listening.” You tried convincing yourself, hugging his shirt to your chest.

“The jerk, he can wait out there all night, for what I care!” You yelled, hoping he heard you.

A stinging slap rang out in the air and Henry's scruffy cheek burned, like it had been singed by molten lava. Henry grunted as another burning slap connected with his other cheek, snapping his head painfully to the side.

“Wakey Wakey, Mr. Cavill.” An overly jolly voice cooed inches from his face. “Nap time is over.” The jolly voice turned sinister. “I think our sleeping beauty needs a little more help walking up, Emilio.”

“Doable, Boss.” A deep voice laughed.

Henry's eyes flew open and doubled over with a weak gasp as an iron blow struck the center of his chest, and the audible creaking of his ribs. He whimpered and moaned, a thick string of drool dripped from his lips. He leaned forward in the metal chair he was tied to, his arms bound by the wrists around the back of the chair and his ankles tied to the front legs, that like the back legs, were heavily bolted to the cement floor.

“Good morning, Henry.” Benji smiled at him.

“Ho-how--” He panted, trying to get air back into his screaming lungs. “How do you kn-now my n-name?” He gulped the thick saliva in his mouth down, his throat sore.

“I know to you, Mr. Cavill, Bristol is just a back water, shit-hole. But, we do have a great deal of the same technology you Londoners do. So, fingerprint identification isn't a foreign concept to us.” Benji sighed, shaking his head as he walked around Henry.

“Where am I?” Henry gasped, sitting back and flexing his arms, testing the strength of his bonds, only to get a stiff punch to the face.

“Easy, Emilio.” Benji called, patting Emilio on the shoulder. “We don't want to tire Mr. Cavill, before he can be so nice as to answer our questions.”

“I'm not telling you shit, Hernandez.” He growled, jerking his body in agitation.

“Oh, how intuitive of you to deduce who I am.” Benji laughed, stopping in front of Henry. “You must be a top notch High Marshal in London.” He smirked, taking a seat in a chair several feet in front of Henry. “Well, I know you are, I've read your files and your work history. You have quite the prowess for undercover work, used to be SWAT as well, before transferring to Homicide.” He said, reaching back for the tablet one of his men was holding, taking it from him.

“What was it that you transferred, Mr. Cavill?” He asked, scrolling through files that should have been private and sealed.

“Get fucked.” Henry barked at him, his broad shoulders straining.

Benji chuckled, then cleared his throat. “Says here, while on a raid in London's Sector Thirty, there was a shoot out in a warehouse and you were injured, almost died as a result.” He rested the tablet on the thigh of his crossed leg.

“I'm not telling you where she is.” Henry said softly, staring Benji straight in the eyes. “So, you can save your breath.”

“Oh, it's not my breath you'd want to save, Henry.” Benji said, lowering his voice and resting forward. “It's yours.” He grinned, his brown eyes lighting up. “I wonder, if that wound still gives you trouble?” He inquired, drumming his fingertips on the back of the tablet.

Henry didn't say anything or move, just stared Benji in the eye, his lips sealed. The Crime Boss could do whatever he liked to him, he wasn't going to tell him where you were, even if it ended up killing him. No matter how much pain they caused him for it. Henry would protect you with his body and his life.

“Do what you will.” He told Benji, resolved and at peace.

Benji's eyes darkened, realizing that he wasn't going to be able to 'sweet talk' or coax Henry into volunteering the information about your whereabouts. He knew it wasn't going to work, but had given it a shot anyway, hoping Henry would be intelligent and want to save his own life and a good amount of pain.

“All well.” He sighed, shrugging his shoulders at Henry. “Where was that wound?” He hummed, turning back to the tablet. “Abdomen, left side. Through and through—oh! It took out one of your kidneys! Well, it's a good damn thing you're a High Marshal with a father in the Cleric Council and a mother in the Royal Council! All that money, power and influence, so you could get the best organ transplant care.” He said, shaking his head and enlarging a photo taken of Henry, not long after he had surgery to treat his injuries.

“What was it?” He asked, looking up at Henry. “Organ donor? Organ regrowth or an Organ replacement?”

“What's the difference?” One of Benji's men blurted out, without meaning too.

“Well, you see.” Benji laughed, in an uncommonly good mood. “An Organ donor is when some nice and caring person donates their kidney to the recipient. Organ regrowth is when a large team of doctors and scientists grow a new kidney for the person that needs it, and organ replacement, is a device, made out of hardware and biological software to look and function like the required organ or body part. Think of it as the kidney equivalent to a prosthetic leg.”

“All of which are insanely expensive.” He added, then looked back at Henry. “So?”

“You obviously have access to all my medical reports, so why bother.” Henry hissed at him, unamused.

“Because, I want to have a conversation with you, Mr. Cavill. So, satisfy my curiosity.”

Henry licked his lips, his upper lip twitching as his anger slowly built in the pit of his stomach. “Replacement.” He growled out, his hands squeezing into fists, cutting off most of their circulation.

“So, a special, bionic kidney for the special High Marshal.” Benji sat up straighter, his eyes and face bright with wonder and interest. “I want to see it!”

“Sir?” Ashe gasped, head snapping towards Benji.

“I don't mean cut him open, you idiot!” Benji barked, the sparkle of his face dimming with his flare of annoyance. “The scar, you brain-dead buffoon.” He yelled, throwing the tablet at Ashe. “Cut his shirt off!” He snapped at Emilio.

Grinning, Emilio grabbed a box cutter off a metal table covered with various items and approached Henry. Sliding up the razor-blade, Emilio grabbed the bottom hem of Henry's grey short sleeve t-shirt and slid the paper thin blade up, cutting through the thin fabric. Henry winced, hissing and bared his teeth as the tip of the blade nicked the skin of his sternum, a thick bead of bright red blood dripped down his chest, disappearing into the patch of hair of his belly; the elastic band of his boxer briefs soaking it up.

Emilio tore away the rest of Henry's shirt and discarded it, as Benji stood and closed the gap between them, seeing the neat and thin scar above his left hip, a slightly puckered dot of scar tissue in the center of it, where the bullet entered. Pressing his lips together, Benji rounded Henry's chair and made him sit forward, straining his arms and saw the thick scar on his back, from the surgery to remove his damaged kidney and replace it with the engineered one.

“Fascinating.” He cooed, touching his cool fingertips to the burning hot skin of Henry's back. “I wonder?” He hummed, then promptly sucker punched Henry in the back, landing it squarely on the scar.

Henry howled in agony, arching his back away from Benji, the cut on his chest bleeding more as the skin of his sternum stretched. His breathing was ragged as Emilio jabbed his fist into Henry's stomach, almost choking on the air stuck in his throat, eyes watering furiously.

“So, it does hurt.” Benji laughed, pressing his fingers into the forming bruise and moved back around to see his anguished face.

“Let me punch you in the fucking kidney, and tell me how it feels, you piece of shit.” Henry barked, spitting at him.

Emilio clocked Henry across the face, opening a gash on his cheekbone and snapping his head sideways, making his neck ache and throb. “Spit at him again, and I'll cut your fucking tongue out.” He growled, grabbing a handful of Henry's sweat soaked curls and yanked his head back, making his scalp burn.

“Where is she, Henry?” Benji asked, pulling out a handkerchief and wiped the wad of spit off the tip of his shoe, before tossing the square piece of fabric into the bin. “This will go so much easier, if you just tell us where she is.”

“I'm not going to tell you, so you can do whatever you want with me.” Henry wheezed, glaring up at Benji. “Torture me. Kill me. I don't care. I'll never tell you anything.”

“Are you sure you want to play this game, Henry?” Benji asked, stroking his jaw as he regarded him.

Henry's body went slack and slumped in the chair, mentally centering himself for the pain and chaos that was no doubt about to rain down upon him. All so he could keep you protected, and god he hoped you were. Henry prayed that you had listened to him and went back to the hotel room, baring yourself inside until, and if, he was able to get back to you. He feared that Ashe had more people with him that saw you go over that wall and followed after you, tracking you back to the room, if you even made it that far, and were somewhere in the building he was clearly in, being tortured as well. His Adam's apple bounced as he swallowed down that overwhelming fear. He couldn't let that negativity breed inside of him or it would tear him down and he would lose to Benji and his torture even faster.

“I'm not telling you, where she is, or even where she might be.” He replied, finally. “For all I know, she's nowhere I'm aware of. She's an extremely self-willed girl, and doesn't listen. So, even if I were to tell you where I think she is. She couldn't be. She could be anywhere at this point.” He told him, almost smugly.

“Bristol is a big place.” He added, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

Emilio got a running start and the punch he landed square to the center of Henry's face, busting his nose and blackening his eye. Henry coughed and spit a mouthful of blood to the floor, his chin resting against his bare and bloody chest.

“Why are you and she in Bristol?” Benji asked, lifting a brow at him.

“To fuck your mother.” Henry replied, spitting blood at him, but came up short.

Picking up a long object from the table, Emilio swung it into Henry's stomach, and if the chair hadn't been bolted to the floor, it and Henry would have been sent flying backwards with the force. Henry wavered forward, slack and groaning in pain, shaking his throbbing head to try and clear it.

“I'll ask you again, why are you here?”

“Again, to fuck your mother.” Henry rasped, clearing his throat and licking his lips, tasting the cooper of his own blood.

Benji looked up at Emilio and nodded.

Grinning, Emilio dropped the pipe on the table with a clatter and retrieved his box cutter, his preferred method of extracting information from difficult people. The smallest shutter went down Henry's spine as he approached him, pressing the sharp tip to his jean-clad thigh. Henry growled deep in his throat, gritting his teeth and flexing his arms as Emilio slowly pushed it into his leg; breathing heavily and teeth tearing into his bottom lip, blood dripping down his chin.

“We can do this for a very long time, Mr. Cavill.” Benji said, crossing one leg over the other and tilting his head as he watched the blade of the box cutter disappear into Henry's meaty thigh. “Even after we find her. But, I find it curious that a High Marshal would go to such lengths to protect a Slave he bought, even if it was part of a sting operation.”

Henry blinked at Benji, the searing pain of the blade cutting through skin and muscle momentarily forgotten.

“Oh, yes. I know it was you that bought her from Twist. That you were the one that was undercover at the warehouse. It's all in the paperwork.” He explained, motioning to the shattered tablet laying on the ground. “The report your superior typed up after the fact, your own reports while undercover and afterwards. A high bred, high standing Londoner, with a life and connections anyone and everyone would die for, protecting some Slummer that was just part of the job.”

“Why are you protecting her?”

“Like you said,” Henry answered through clenched teeth. “It's my job. I'm supposed to protect her until she testifies.”

“Nothing more?” Benji poked.

“Nothing.” Henry seethed, his dull fingernails cutting into the skin of his palms.

He wasn't going to show or give away that he loved you, that would only cause more issues and add to the endless list of things Benji and his men could use against him, to torture and torment him into give you up. No, he buried those emotions and thoughts so deep inside of himself, it was as if they never existed to start with, building an iron-clad fortress around them and you.

“She means nothing to me, other than getting her to testify against you, then send her back to the hell hole she was born to and I can get my life back.”

“Well, if you tell me where she is, I can let you go.” Benji replied, regarding Henry. “I'll even have one of the boys drive you back to London, safe and sound, and you can go back to your job as a High Marshal.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Henry laughed at him. “My job is to stop you, and you'd let me freely continue to do so?”

“Yes.” He nodded, pressing his lips together. “All the Councils of London have been hindering my family's business for decades, and we're still sitting fat, happy and rich here in Bristol. So, one little High Marshal, like yourself, won't even be a thorn in my side. What do you say, Henry? Give us the girl and we'll have you home by morning?”

Henry leaned forward, never breaking eye contact with him. “No.” He said, softly, but with clear malice.

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eloquentgifs · 3 years

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DWJ Reading Project. Part II

As I said here, my 2021 resolution is gonna be READING EVERY DIANA WYNNE JONES BOOK I CAN FIND, and due to my love of making lists and taking notes, I’ve decided keeping track of this reading project here in this post, which I’ll keep updated as I make progress. It’s mostly for my own pleasure, but maybe it helps someone who wants to give it a try to this amazing writer and doesn’t know where to start.

Part I (1970 - 1976 & The Dalemark Quartet)

Part III (1984 - 1992 & Land of Ingary Series)

- The Chrestomanci Series (DWJ’s suggested reading order): · Charmed Life (1977): I couldn’t fully enjoy it because the main premise of the story is the codependency Cat has with his AWFUL sister, and how her abuse shapes everything on his life. He has such a low self esteem and needs so much a hug, it just breaks my heart every page. In any case, the worldbuilding, the magic system and the general vibe are just amazing. If it keeps like this, I totally understand why so many people love this series

· The Lives of Christopher Chant (1988): Ok, this is the good shit. I don’t even know how to describe it in few words. Let’s say that there’s also a kid being abused by his relatives, and there were parts where I wanted to throw the book against the wall, but Christopher is such a fascinating character to read about that you just can’t stop. And this universe, OMFG. Also, is the Asheth thing some kind of homage to The Tombs of Atuan?

· Conrad’s Fate (2005): I’ve binge-watched Downton Abbey a few months ago, so finding out this book is basically DA with magic was just a delight. Christopher and his new BFF Conrad arrive to this big ass manor to work as lackeys, while both having secret agendas of their own. There’s everything one would expect and more: Rich Family Drama, Upstairs/Downstaris antics, crime solving, forbidden loves, scifi-ish reality bugs, and of course abusive relatives (at this point, if I were DWJ’s uncle I'd think she was trying to tell me something). I read it in a day and a half. The only negative thing I can say is that I missed Christopher POV of things.

· Witch Week (1982): This is about a bunch of pupils and teachers in a deppresing boarding school. Everyone is a little bit of an asshole at some point, but it's understandable because this world must be the worst in Series 12. Not only they keep burning witches in modern times, but witches aren’t even a minority, so you can imagine the amount of hypocrisy. It’s interesting how the witch thing can be considered a metaphor for lgtb kids: everyone is scared of being called a witch because they’ll get bullied (and maybe arrested and burnt), but every time a character find out they’re in fact a witch, they just feel confident and happy because they’ve found themselves, so they can’t even hide it. Also, there are more secret witches around than they would expect.

· The Magicians of Caprona (1980): Two families of famous spell-makers keep hating each other through generations, to the point they put Caprona, the city-state where they live, in danger. Sometimes the Italian stereotypes were too much and took me out of the story, but not gonna lie, I really loved the opera spells, the large families living all together in a big house and being loving and supportive with each other, and BENVENUTO.

· The Pinhoe Egg (2006): This one is also about confronted families of magic users, but this time they’re in the villages near to Chrestomanci Castle, and no one really knows there’s a feud because their spells are based on herbs and plants, not in singing opera on the streets. Cat comes back and shares the spotlight with Marianne Pinhoe, and as always I would love more Christopher Chant, but I can´t really complain.

· Mixed Magics (2000): Four short stories settled in the Chrestomanci Universe, more or less linked to the main characters. My favourite is the third one, Carol Oneir’s Hundredth Dream, mostly because the idea of a kid selling her dreams as stories is brilliant, but also because I loved that little moment where Christopher reviews Carol’s dreams and everything he says is the kind of critique that Diana always received on her books.

- The Homeward Bounders (1981): There are some misterious powerful people who seem to be addicted to Age of Empires, but they play it using actual worlds and actual people. When someone from these worlds find this out, they got exiled and doomed to jump from world to world, only able to stop when they manage to get back to their original world. The first act remind me a little of those stories from Arabian Nights where the main character keeps arriving to weird islands and getting into the most bizarre troubles but always manages to survive. Due to life circunstances I couldn't focus 100% on the reading, but I did enjoy the characters, mostly Helen, and Jamie eventually grew on me too. I must confess I got kinda lost with the final explanation about the game and the nature of this multiverse and what it's Real and how Hope acts literally as an anchor that keeps the system going (although I find the notion really interesting as an allegory, and once again a really cool message for kids: hope can be your prison)

- The Time of the Ghost (1981): Ok, this one was a dark trip. I can’t really say that much because everything is a spoiler. Let’s say it’s about an amnesic ghost who’s drawn to their family, and there’s a lot of sadness, pagan blood rituals (one chapter in particular has A LOT OF BLOOD for my taste), abusive relationships, and a little bit of the theme in the previous book: the negative side of hope that makes us cling to things in an unhealthy way. Also, I’ve read this book is kinda autobiographical, and it explains so much about the way DWJ used to depict families in her books, it’s heartbreaking. It has its moments of fun and sweet melancholy tho. It’s never 100% depressing with Diana. I think that’s what make it feel so realistic.

#Diana Wynne Jones #Reading EVERYTHING #2021 Resolution #DWJ Reading Project #Chrestomanci #Charmed Life #The lives of Christopher Chant #Conrad's Fate #Witch Week #The Magicians of Caprona #The Pinhoe Egg #Mixed Magics #The Homeward Bounders #The time of the Ghost

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mrsmaybank · 4 years

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Gas Station Girl - Spencer Reid x Reader CH 2

Spencer Reid’s first impression of the Reader is mixed. She’s “audacious, promiscuous, clever, and troubled.” and there is so many things Spencer would like to do about it.

A/N: I’m writing a Spencer Reid x Reader multific! The series will be intense and 18+. Age gaps, Explicit sexual content, angst, family issues, dark themes including: violence, suicide, murder, death, blood, and drug addiction. Chapters will of course have trigger warnings depending on the content. Enjoy and PLEASE leave me feedback!

CHAPTER ONE HERE

A/N2: This chapter definitely gives off “Fixing Somebody” vibes, which is wrong and I am NOT romanticizing it. This story is FICTIONAL, and meant for ENTERTAINMENT purposes only. If this isn’t your thing, don’t read this chapter! Also, I wanted it to kinda be a slowburn, so there isn’t anything SPICY or explicitly romantic YET, but expect it soon!!

TW: Language, age gap, ANGST, alcohol consumption, mentions of molly, & mentions of blood

Fic Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4WYosdR6Tz4y9lsmUghoMU?si=ZvyS_2oqSDW95PxULRs2fQ

It had been a busy two weeks since Spencer had met his gas station girl, and everytime his mind had a second to wander they thought’ve her under the neon lights. Her voice above the zoom of speeding cars, and the perfect shape her lips made when she exhaled the smoke in her lungs. The way she sang in his car like a public flaunt of freedom, like she had no responsibilities or a care in the world. It made him think more, where’d she come from? What’d she been through? Under what circumstances was this mystifying character for a girl been procured? It didn’t take a BA in psychology to decide the circumstances probably weren’t entirely pleasant, and the thoughts made him more sad then he cared to admit. That being said, there wasn’t much time to let his mind wander. As cases seemed to be piling up on different sides of the country, the Doctor spent almost every hour in the past two weeks working alongside his team to solve them.

Now it was 7:30 on a Friday night, and the members of the BAU were preparing for something they were all in desperate need of. A Rossi dinner party, with lots of pasta and lots of wine. Spencer closed the file, at last he was finally finished with all the paperwork necessary to officially close the case. He walked over to the coffee station, pouring himself a cup with too much sugar, looking over the office to see his team members doing the same thing he was a couple minutes ago. Frantically dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s so they could get out of this damn office and have a nice dinner with their friends.

Morgan got up and threw his hands up in victory.

“I’m done man! I am done for the day!” he practically threw his files into the cabinet. “Rossi’s probably already home by now. Pretty boy ride with me to the liquor store before we go?”

Reid took the final sip of his overly sweet coffee, “Sure, see you guys there?” he asked his co-workers.

Penelope muttered an “Hmmhmm”, but the rest of his teammates were still eyes glued to their screens and paperwork.

Derek and Reid got in the car, laughing and talking about random things.

“I know it’s out of the way, but Prentiss and I are in a challenge to see who can find the most expensive wines for cheap, and I read online that this specific liquor store sells a 1962 bottle of red from Italy dude, for $19 dollars. I don’t care if it tastes like rotten grapes, I just wanna win this stupid ass game.”

Spencer laughed at his antics, “You guys are weird.”

“Coming from you!” Derek rebutted, pulling into the parking lot.

Spencer did a double take, but he recognized her instantly. Dirty sneakers, baggy jeans, and a tiny gray tank-top, a beautiful face framed in messy hair. What the fuck was she doing now? As he got a better look though, his concern grew. Her once bright eyes were dull, ringed with make-up that looked like residue from sobbing, her lips were puffy and it looked like there was dried blood on the bottom one, dirt on her knees. She looked awful, well still beautiful, but awful.

Derek noticed his friend’s intense stare at the broken-looking girl, sitting on the sidewalk, brown bagged drink in one hand, cigarette in the other. “You know her?”

“Uh, yeah. We met at a gas station once.”

Derek parked and looked him right in the eye, “You met at a gas station once?”

“Yeah.” Spencer unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car into her direction.

“Y/N?”

Her head snapped in surprise and fear, and Spencer’s heart broke at her reaction.

“Spencer?” She looked like a deer in headlights, nothing like the tough, independent girl he’d met that night at the 7/11.

“Hey.” he said softly, “Are you okay?”

She seemed to break out of her trance at the question, a wall rebuilding, a strange glint in her eye, and Spencer noticed. “What? Yeah. Totally cool.” she said, followed by a spit of blood and a wipe of her mouth.

“Not to profile you or anything, but you don’t really seem okay.”

“Dr, FBI, sir, you don’t actually know anything about me. Who are you to judge if I’m okay or not?” She slurred defensively. It wasn’t evident before, but she was absolutely wasted.

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. But I can’t leave you here. Not safe. Is there somebody I can call?”

“Yeah, yeah, my sister, Carmen.”

“Okay, I’ll call her. What’s her number?” he said pulling out his phone/

“Oh fuck, I forgot.”

“Her number?”

“No, no.” She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed, “She's probably strung out on molly naked on a park bench right now!” She laughed almost manically.

Spencer felt his heart break a little more, this girl needed help right now. “A friend?”

She laughed again, it was a broken, sad laugh, and Spencer hated the sound. “It’s Friday. My friends are probably--” she noticed the concerned look on Spencer’s face. “Nevermind.”

“Y/N, is there anybody?”

“Yeah, yeah there’s somebody.” she put out her cigarette. “Call him. His name is Teddy.” she handed him her phone.

She played with her shoes as she heard the number dial, and the familiar voice of her ex, answering with an all too familiar irritation that stung more than she’d like to admit.

“Teddy? It’s Dr. Spencer Reid. Hey yeah. I’m with Y/N here, she’s not doing so well. Can you come pick her up?” Pause. “I’ll send you our location.” Pause. “Cool, thank you.”

Both Spencer and Derek waited for Teddy to arrive, Spencer next to her on the sidewalk, Derek in the car, with so many questions. When Teddy did arrive, Spencer couldn’t help but profile him.

The way he interacted with her, they must be close, or had been at some point. He took off his flannel and wrapped Y/N in it. It was so cliche a girl like her had a guy like this at her call, Spencer thought. Though it wasn’t obvious, he was younger then Spencer, slightly taller, tattooed and undoubtedly a little rougher around the edges.

He politely thanked Spencer for calling him, put Y/N in his passenger seat, and as as they pulled out of the parking space, he could hear him tell her something, “Fuck Y/N, what the fuck happened?”

Spencer watched as they drove away, utterly speechless. They were practically worlds apart, and Spencer had this absolutely burning desire to figure out hers. What was going on in that beautiful head? What was going on in that melancholy short film for a life? How could he fix it?

______________________________________________________________

Taglist (Comment to be added!) : @hailey-the-heathen @sailorjade125@criminalmindzjunkie

#spencerreid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer #spencer reid angst #reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid slowburn #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom

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demenior · 3 years

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Dem’s Big Post About The Spn Fics Part 1/2

aka The Wrap Up to celebrate To Exist Again and To Become a Man now being finished!

(This will be a long post. This is your only warning.)

Admittedly this is a bit of a weird thing to be doing, but I wanted to try it out for 3 reasons:

I love talking about my own work and

It functions really well as a self-reflective tool for me to improve on, and

I can answer some big questions people might have because there was a LOT of worldbuilding in these stories.

We’ll start off with reflective stuff, and move into the juicier world-building focused stuff later into the post. There will be major spoilers for both fics to come!

To begin with a funny anecdote, Why Did I Write These Stories?

I was beginning to write and work out the story that I wanted to write for Spn (what will now be To Destroy a Man. As I was writing the scene, I realized I had a LOT of ideas and while I was trying to avoid as much exposition as I could, it became quickly apparent that I was needing to create my own au (this scene eventually became chapter 34 of To Become a Man). A short prequel seemed like a good idea, to quickly hash out the ‘prior’ events that I needed to go through so all the readers could be on the same page. While plotting out prequel points, I realized Sam and Dean were going to have drastically different experiences during the same time period, and I was trying to figure out who’s pov would be better for which scenes, and how to keep momentum when they’re going through such radically different types of changes. Ultimately I decided to split their povs, which I also thought would be a fun project! And I naively assumed each pov would take about 2 chapters each, rounding out to maybe 15k total.

I had my ending points: Dean n Cas soul-merged and (basically) married, Cas on the lam from heaven and a complete anomaly, and Sam juiced up full of powers and a weird mix of archangel and antichrist but still 100% human and ready to fight God.

Now I needed to add weight to these changes, so I wrote 200k of build-up.

Am I proud of these fics?

OF COURSE I AM!!! These are the longest fics I’ve ever written AND finished AND in the fastest freakin turnaround ever (both were finished writing, barring edits, in like 6 months holy shit)

I didn’t write a single scene that I “didn’t” want to write. If I had trouble writing it, as in it was fighting me, I scrapped it. Most obviously was the scene in Dean’s pov where he and Sam were intended to meet some other hunters and Dean declines working with them because he’s nervous about being outed as queer. It was meant to be a good scene! I wanted to introduce some new characters! But it just wasn’t working so I said ‘thank you, next!’.

But it means this story was an absolute joy to write. Because for a while all I was doing was ‘if I wanted to write one scene into supernatural, what would I write?’ and then just DID that!! It’s why there’s a lot of ‘Salmondean do dumb shit or have really dumb heartfelt conversations’ scenes.

Would I change anything?

If I’d been less eager to start sharing, I might have planned out the story beats a little tighter so there were less ‘soft’ chapters and a draw/pull for people to come back and keep reading. I felt Dean’s story specifically lagged at points and could have used some tighter editing (there was a noticeable lull in directed movement between Dean n Cas getting together, until Sam corrupts Amy).

I also probably would have held Sam’s story until I’d finished Dean’s so I could make the two line up better! Probably could have inserted more scenes into Sam’s fic that way, and made sure things were a little more consistent. In an ideal world one concept I had was to release 1 chapter from each pov every week that would correspond to the same time frame so we’d be getting real-time SalmonDean pov narrative. Unfortunately that didn’t work!

The biggest takeaway overall is for me to focus more on what moves the plot, and to make my scenes do more than 1 thing so I can cut down on wordcount and increase my efficiency.

Of course every writer will find things they want to fix in anything they’ve ever written, so these are minor “mistakes” at best. I’m so dang proud of these fics.

Onto more interesting things!

How Did I Put These Fics Together (because it’s different than anything I’ve ever done before)

Normally when I write a story, I plan out the beats I need to hit, see where I need to insert any kind of foreshadowing/buildup, and then write from A to B to C and so on and so forth. Hence, this is why I can normally post things as I complete chapters, because it’s all a linear progression.

For these two stories, rather than linear plot/a normal story structure, I just sat and free-wrote any and every scene that came to mind and then pieced them into a kinda-linear form like putting a quilt together. You’ll note that this is why there’s not a lot of internal callback or a feeling of sense of time flowing within the fic (save for points where I went back and specifically edited it in). How long does the story take place over? Hard to say! Your author has the barest grasp on linear time even on a good day (how many times did I say ‘see you on [wrong day]’ at the end of chapters lmaaoooo)

This also meant EXTENSIVE editing on the back end once I decided in what order I wanted my ‘quilt pieces’ to be. Hard to say if this is a bonus or a negative!

But I did want to try and capture the vibe of the lives they lead, as a bit of a ‘slice of life’-style story, when the slice of life is the profound weirdness of the Winchester roaming life, and how things are status quo- until everyone almost dies oh shit!! And then they have to keep living because no therapy we die/undie like Winchesters. Do I think I captured this effectively? Hmm. Good question.

Dem where the FUCK did the inspiration for a lot of the magic and creature weirdness even come from?

Honestly? Music, primarily. And completely mishearing lyrics!

Nightwish ‘Ever Dream’: the line is ‘my song can but borrow you grace’ and because my brain is scrambled eggs on a good day, I heard ‘grace’ ‘song’ and ‘borrow’ in that order and have had, for YEARS, the mental image of Cas borrowing Dean’s soul to power himself up for battle.

From there I’ve always been enamored with the ‘wavelength of celestial intent’ descriptor that Cas drops in s6 for “what he is”.

I also really like ocean metaphors mostly because I’ve been obsessed with the ocean and things in it since I was like… 5??? So really this was me just rolling with what I know lmao. I love using (somewhat) accurate scientific metaphors for very intangible things!

I was also finishing my degree in biology/ecology while writing these fics and I think it shows

Stars ‘The Night Starts Here’ gives us the series title and the fic titles. Except for ‘To Exist Again’. TEA was almost titled ‘The Upwards Fall’ because I wanted all 3 of the Main Stories to have titles from this song, but I couldn’t make anything else work in tandem with the series name ‘The Love It Takes’ while also working for Sam’s personal story. So Sam, as always, is the rebel <3

Stars ‘Up In Our Bedroom, After The War’ is basically the vibes of the whole story. TFW has been, literally, to hell and back!!! There’s a bit of melancholy and sadness, a lingering dark, but the chance of a bright new tomorrow and a soft start.

Let’s Talk About Themes in The Story! What were you looking to accomplish?

My earliest notes for TFW are, as follows:

Dean’s journey of self-discovery (who am I when I’m not trying to be Dad?)

Dean wants to settle down! He wants a big family! He wants to be domestic!

Basically: Dean doesn’t want to have a short life of hunting. He wants to live!

Dean’s journey of realizing he’s bi, and him accepting that

Dean’s relationship to Sam is both older brother/parent

And continuing Dean balancing these roles while also letting Sam be an adult

Dean’s Big Issues/Fears about never being good enough for people to want to stay with him (these are effectively highlighted in that Cas thinks he’s not useful enough to be wanted)

Sub Plot:

Castiel’s autonomy

Cas’ fall from grace, to trying to restore Heaven, to wrecking it further

He’s majorly depressed by the end of s7 (before purgatory)

Wants to stay in Purgatory but doesn’t tell Dean

Remains depressed after leaving, but resolved to keep living on because he’s clearly meant for something

After the seraphim reveal: does he have free will?! How does he grapple with this? How does he live in a way he can be proud of?

And lastly

Sam gets his powers back CAUSE THATS HOT

where tf did they go????

he got them from Lucifer?????

sleeper agent??????

Sam is The Chosen One

Accepts that he is More Than Human and to celebrate all parts of him

Lucifer and Sam friends?? Work together????

Sam needs autonomy in his choices/his life

If you compare these to the overall arc of TFW within the two stories, I think I got a lot of them! But you’ll also note a lot of these things aren’t concrete goals that are easily measurable (ex: Dean wants to learn to bake pie. In chapter 1 he starts a fire in the kitchen. By the end of the story he finally makes A Good Pie.) part of the lack of concrete milestones was why I felt it was important to tell Dean (and Cas’) story by going back to the point they meet, in s4! Dean’s gradual change towards his feelings for Cas, his relationship to Sam (heavily influenced by the s7 events of this fic) and then his own relationship with himself were such slow burns that I felt it would be a disservice to try and cram a change like that into a timeline like “1 year”.

I felt like these subtle changes and adjustments actually felt a lot truer to life-- people often change in very small, gradual ways over time, even without realizing it and often times not consistently! If only we could all gain skills like the sims, where we can easily level up and remain at that high level of performance!

So the Guy Who Ate Satan, A Celestial Nuke that Developed Sentience, and Dean walk into a bar…

Sam’s story in Spn The Show has always been a ‘chosen one’ kind of narrative. Sam is living with one foot in the realm of the monsters, and I wanted to bring that back full force! It really makes sense for him that he should only continue to grow in power, might, and magic!! As the story progresses.

Cas also got a power up! I do desperately love in the show that he was kind of a grunt/nothing angel, and so even when he defected to TFW he was a huge help for them, but in the scale of things he was an annoying fly to most other angels. It really worked for the underdog story of s4/5. In this I wanted to give him a power up, and originally it was actually going to be close contact with Sam that eventually changed Cas into something unknown (you can still see traces of this in ch34 of TBAM, where Death remarks ‘Castiel could be [Sam’s] first creation’. But for a combo of reasons: how Sam’s magic needed to have intent, the entire concept of free will and consent, and how much I wanted Dean and Cas to have their effect on each other, I decided to go with the route that Cas has actually always been something angel-adjacent rather than becoming something new. TFW/Supernatural has always been about free will and making your own story, so I amplified that with Cas.

Dean has always been A Normal Guy, which is part of the appeal of him and Sam (2 normal dudes!) taking on the Very Not Normal. As explained above, Sam’s story is ‘normal guy finds out he’s the chosen one’ and so, in a story about very large concepts and huge monsters and acts of magic, I felt it was very important to keep Dean as normal as possible. To the point it became a running gag to me, personally, in that ‘no matter what cool shit happens around him, Dean has to stay as Just A Guy’. And it’s a very humanizing role that allows the story to have the scale it does!

What were the most important themes in your story?

Sam’s Autonomy

I wasn’t even going to include the plot about Lucifer’s death in this story— that was going to come up in a later story, actually! And rather than Sam having ate Lucifer, the original idea was that they’d become a SamandLucifer entity (this harkens back to a concept I wanted to write when Swan Song first aired).

That storyline would have involved a lot of mental ‘Sam and Lucifer discuss what it means to live, which one of them is more worthy of life and if they do deserve to destroy the world for the pain they’ve been forced to go through, just to create the dichotomy of good and evil for everyone else’ discussions. There would be a lot of talk about how Sam hates and fears Lucifer for the pain Lucifer put on Sam, how Lucifer hates Sam because he and Sam are the same but Sam’s brother loves him anyways, etc.

Ultimately that was scrapped because Sam’s entire story in the show is always about how the world and everyone around him manipulates him and that he never actually gets to make choices about his own life or body that aren’t influenced or part of someone elses’ design. And that always bothered me that Sam was never allowed to be himself without having to be ashamed of it, and I wanted to make sure that Sam’s triumph of being proud of himself/proudly choosing to exist (again) was evident in his story

In the end I needed Sam to have this visceral win over his tormentor. As the story shows, in this case Lucifer was abused and put into a position where he was incapable of empathy and could only express himself in violence. Sam even understands this! But it doesn’t change the fact that Lucifer tortured Sam in unimaginable ways for thousands of years.

With that in mind I didn’t like the idea of Lucifer and Sam having “co-ownership” of their new identity, so I made the choice that Sam had to be the survivor. This tied in well with Sam’s new crusade to restore free will to the universe, because he’s breaking the narrative of his own story!

While Castiel wasn’t a pov character, his own autonomy and free will was equally as important. You’ll note that many, many paragraphs and conversations revolved around that theme and that in the end Cas followed himself (and love!) which ensured his freedom of self <3

The Brothers are WEIRD PEOPLE!!!! And Codependent to a Worrying Degree, but It’s Also How They Survive

It’s very hard to show “unusual” relationships when you’re writing from the pov of the two people who don’t think there’s anything weird about their relationship. Sure, they say ‘yeah it’s probably weird that we still share a bed’ but that’s kinda more in line with ‘I had a nightmare and I want to be close to the person who makes me feel safe’. Hashtag normalize co-sleeping when you need it!!!

From there I did try to point out how the boys have a weird perception of lifestyle in the little things they did.

From thrifting everything from clothes to appliances to books (thrifting is a valid lifestyle! It’s incredibly handy when you’re on a budget.)

To never actually having condiments or knowing how to use a dishwasher cause they’ve lived in a car, a motel room, or squatted in old houses their whole life.

I tried to have them wear each others’ clothes or casually swap things as much as possible. They live out of each others’ pockets!

Also the brothers are just weird people!! It’s hard to show from their pov, cause they don’t know how far off from normal they are, but like…

Everything about Sam and Amelia was NOT right like holy shit those two were wilding in their grief. They are very lucky things worked out for them and that they got to be hashtag Weird Girls together

Dean explicitly, in the story, gets horny after killing stuff!! Violence has done a number on his psyche and he’s gotten some wires crossed that maybe shouldn’t have been, or maybe could be worked out in a safe space but… uh… how likely do we think Dean is gonna go find a safe space to deal with any of his shit???

LOVE!!! Love is truly what this whole story is all about

If you’ve read the stories, you know how much emphasis I put on love. Love is the strongest force in the Spn Universe! It’s what averted the apocalypse and saved the world (Swan Song), it’s what created free will (Cas’ entire arc!) I love love!!!!

I went out of my way to not put any definitions on platonic love vs romantic love because I think love is love is love and how you express that is the difference. Neither is more powerful than the other because LOVE is powerful!! Sam and Cas are the most important people in Dean’s life and he loves them equally! He shows this by giving Cas kisses and stealing Sam’s socks.

It’s a personal pet peeve of mine when I have to hear explanations like ‘I love you, like a brother’ or ‘I love you, but like, as a friend because I’m a lesbian and you’re a man’ etc etc in media. If you have to continuously define how your characters love each other, then I don’t think you’re doing a good job of portraying their relationship. So you’ll see that I never put those parameters in any conversation. Dean DOES muse that he loves Cas differently than he loves Sam or Bobby, specifically because there is a romantic and sexual tone that his feelings for Cas takes, but not because he loves Cas more or less than he loves Sam or Bobby.

Which means, if you haven’t realized it yet, the Series + Fic Titles are meant to be a complete sentence because the power of love IS the thesis of this series:

The Love It Takes To Exist Again (Sam’s journey!)

The Love It Takes To Become a Man (Dean’s journey!)

The Love It Takes To Destroy a Man (TBA)

And now for fun stuff. Behind the scenes!!

What’s Something People Probably Don’t Know?

The demonic fungal/hydrothermal vent growth on Sam’s arm was thrown in literally as I was posting the chapter because I had just finished a 48 hour cram session of writing a report on tube worms for an ecology class (I was chanting my tube worm song as I wrote it) and it ended up being a HUGE hit with both readers and myself. But it was so last minute I had trouble fitting it in more throughout the rest of Sam’s story!

Cas’ orders? That may or may not have bound him to Dean and removed his free will? Were written into Sam’s story and I went ‘oh SHIT that’s compelling’ and then left them there as a ‘guess I’ll figure that out when I get to Dean’s story lol’

Originally Dean and Cas were supposed to get together after having their souls bonded, and have been in a UST limbo the entire time before that. Mostly because I think the entire concept of ‘we just got married of the soul I guess we should try dating?’ is very funny. CLEARLY the two of them were way more eager to fall in love than I anticipated (thank you Cas for your honesty) but you can still see shades of this original idea here and there (especially in ch35 of TBAM)

I never intended Dean and Benny to connect so well!! Benny was going to reunite with Andrea, she was going to live, and they were going to go off into the world and leave the story. And, uh, here we are. I’m still debating if I need to adjust the relationship tag or not haha. Polyamory is fun, especially when I was planning for Sam to be the polyamorous brother...

Speaking of, I can’t believe I forgot about Sam and his sexuality! If I rewrote TEA I would have had Sam contemplate more on his lack of sexual appetite due to trauma, up until he meets Benny and he gets to rediscover how he wants to be a sexual person

Many of Sam and Dean’s absolutely stupid sibling conversations were lifted near-verbatim from conversations I’ve had with my siblings

And lastly...

Dem where’s Kevin????????????? Where is our sweet baby boy????????

He’s SAFE!! He’s in the Hunter pipeline somewhere cause Sam handed him off to Bobby’s people. He and his mom are safe and at some point they probably got rib sigils like SalmonDean did against angels, but for demons. I didn’t have room in this story for him!!! But my baby boy is SAFE and I want to get him back to university because it’s WHAT HE DESERVES!!!!

To that point: god there were/are SO many characters that I just didn’t include in the story so far because I didn’t feel comfortable including them without stalling the story for them. To that point: pretty much everyone who is alive/dead in s8 is that way in this story, except Bobby who gets to live.

[Check Out Part 2 for reader questions!]

#the love it takes series #to exist again fic #to become a man fic #dem speaks

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soukokuwu · 4 years

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DAZAI OSAMU

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍

》 angst, unfortunately (dazai x reader)

》 trigger warnings! suicide themes, death

》 word count: 2.3k

》 notes: you saw him for the exact opposite of what he was. he did you a favour, but everything has a price. and now he has come to collect.

》 a story where Dazai is an angel

The ring of the shopkeeper’s bell. The smooth wood of the door. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The taste of baked ham. The sun illuminating the alley right outside the cafe.

There he appeared again. After ten years.

He looked just as you remembered. He didn’t age. Bandage over his right eye. Black hair a mess, covering one half of his face. Deep brown eyes as alluring as ever, piercing into your very soul. Black tailored suit, black tie, white dress shirt, same as the last time.

Although, there was one thing different about him.

Black feathered wings that used to be almost miniscule compared to his person— no, could you even call him that? Body. The wings that used to be diminutive compared to his body were now thicker and wider, standing even taller than his frame.

You were painfully aware that only you could see his beauty. Everyone else walked past him without regard. You strolled over to the figure, aware that he saw himself far from what you made him out to be in your head. That wouldn’t deter you from believing that of him though.

Your guardian angel.

»»-------------¤-------------««

Scribbling.

Sound of pen against paper had been all you could hear.

The pen had been discarded and you felt a pat on your head. You had looked up into his eyes. Empty. Vacant. Hopeless.

He had grabbed your hand and led the way. Something had been weird about the route he took that day. That had not been the usual way the two of you took to your school.

A left instead of a right. A bookshop instead of a cafe. The hustle and bustle of people instead of the usual seclusion. Yet you never questioned him. He had been the adult after all. Maybe there was a special event today that you had forgotten about. Yes, that could be why he hadn’t taken you straight to school.

The two of you had finally reached the train station. It had only been on rare occasions that you would step foot there, given that your family hardly ever went out. Even at twelve years old you could tell that your parents were struggling financially. In spite of that, though, you were all happy together. As long as you had each other, your mom would always say.

It had been a windy day. The sky turned a darker shade of grey. It had not been too crowded for a weekday morning in the subway station, so you could see the sky clearly even though you had been a short little child back then.

An announcement played, saying the train would be delayed and it would take a while longer. You looked around, trying to find the display screen that estimated the next train’s arrival.

However, something moved past you and caught your eye. A single black feather fell in front of your face and you eyed it until it touched the ground. You gripped your father’s hand tighter out of fear, but it barely registered in your father’s head. He was much too preoccupied with his own thoughts. Scared as you had been, curiosity got the better of you and you looked around for the source. It could not have been a crow, so where could the feather have come from?

Just as you were looking, you spotted him there, near the front of the platform, facing your direction. A general disinterested look, blank chocolate eyes looking straight ahead at absolutely nothing, dark brown hair and small black wings floating in the breeze. Even all those years ago, he looked breathtaking to you. Something that was supposed to instill fear intrigued you instead. He spoke of something in a soft murmur, in a voice low enough you couldn’t make out what it was.

A pair of watchful eyes followed him as he walked toward you, looking around at everyone on the platform. As the creature passed by you, he stopped in his tracks. His body stiffened and he slowly turned to look at you, who had been blinking up at him skeptically.

“This human is creeping me out,” he had murmured to himself, gulping and then bending his knees to get leveled with you. His eyes had then seemed alive for that split second, filled with intrigue. “It’s as if she can see me.”

“But I can,” you said, almost causing him to stumble over.

The creature blinked in succession as he tried to register what you had just said.

“You can... see me?”

You nodded, attention completely focused on the peculiar being in front of you. He had ominous black wings, but you didn’t feel scared of him at all. You then proceeded to question him about why it was that nobody else could see him. But everything he had shared with you about the different dimensions and how it worked were too complicated for you to remember. Being the inquisitive child you were, you kept interacting with the being. Banter and jokes were all you remembered sharing with him that day.

“You’re funny,” you had told him, laughing at the stupid joke he shared.

The creature had laughed too, before his expression shifted slowly into that of hesitance. You had asked what was wrong, but he shook his head, claiming it had been nothing. He was seemingly looking at something past you, but he hogged your attention by asking if you wanted to see a magic trick. Excited, you had given him all your focus, and by the time you clapped for him and noticed the absence of your father’s hand, you realised you were someplace else.

It was a peaceful place. The both of you were situated in a meadow, surrounded by a sea of colourful flowers. The skies there were a dark grey too. The only sound you could hear was that of the wind blowing. You were alone there with him, your father nowhere in sight. Despite having been teleported to a foreign dimension with someone you barely knew, all you had been thinking of was how much you wanted to explore this place.

“I can’t see the station anymore,” you had casually remarked.

“Sometimes it’s better to see what isn’t there instead of what is,” the creature had replied, an ache in his tone you didn’t miss.

Before you could ask him what he meant, warm droplets of rain started falling onto your face. The creature used his wings to shelter you from the rain, letting himself get drenched. His wings were too small to cover the both of you at the time. Feeling bad, you had asked if he could take you to his home so that you both would get shelter. The flash of melancholy that took over his face you could not have missed.

“Not now, you have to get back home,” he murmured gently, patting you on the head. You nodded in resigned compliance, catching a glimpse of the words imprinted on his wings.

Osamu Dazai.

The world around you began to shimmer and flow together, the colours of the flowers mixing together in circles. It was all making you sick, and so you chose to close your eyes. Everything was spinning. But as you felt a few raindrops fall onto your face, it stopped.

When you opened your eyes next, you found your mother sat next to you on your bed, crying over your body, hugging you when she realised you had come to.

The creature was nowhere in sight.

And neither was your father.

»»-------------¤-------------««

No one told you what really happened that day until a few years ago, when your mother was on her deathbed. Initially, she had just claimed that your father had to move to another city and wouldn’t come back. You were twelve but you weren’t that stupid. You didn’t believe her, but you thought better than to press her about it.

However as she was dying, she told you the real story of how your father disappeared. She recounted to you his suicide note, word for word. He had had enough of his life. Apparently the happiness you saw in your family as a kid was all a facade. Your father was far from a joyful man. He was beyond depressed, with a shit job and a shittier financial situation. His wife had lost interest in him as a man and his only solace had been you. Which was why he wanted to bring you with him. To die with him.

His plan that day was to jump in front of a moving train with you. But that creature had saved you at the last minute. According to witness accounts, they saw you let go of your father’s hand just as he was about to jump off the platform before you fainted on the spot. There was a small boy who swore he saw a man with brown hair and black wings who pried you away from your father, but of course the authorities didn’t take him seriously.

»»-------------¤-------------««

The city looked so much better from way up high. It had been a while since you were here. The wind blowing reminded you of that day when you were teleported to another dimension. You shifted your gaze from the scenery to the figure beside you. He had followed you here all the way from the cafe. He looked even more mesmerising now with a soft smile plastered on his face.

“Dazai?” You called out hesitantly.

The being nodded in acknowledgement. However, you found you couldn’t quite find the right words to say now that he was here, in the flesh.

“Ask me.”

His statement stunned you. It was a gentle kind of prodding, indicating he understood the situation. You were almost a hundred percent sure by now of his answer, and as much as you would like to confirm it, you decided against it.

“You’re my guardian angel, Dazai.”

It was not what he really was, but it was true all the same. He had saved you as a child even though he had absolutely no reason to. Osamu Dazai saved you even though he had been, and was still, the embodiment of death.

“I’m the angel of death,” he uttered, completely monotone. Dazai looked puzzled now, his lips pressed into a firm line. He shifted his gaze and looked out at the view of the city from his spot on the skyscraper. The streets surrounding this building were somewhat secluded, save for two or three pedestrians walking below. You caught a look of understanding that seemed to wash over him, as though a sudden realisation of your intentions, and why he even appeared before you in the first place.

You thought back to all those years ago, when you tried to convince people you weren’t crazy. In hindsight, telling people about a heavenly creature that saved you from death’s grip wasn’t the brightest idea. It had resulted in years of bullying, several counts of physical abuse and a consequent depression that you wished would go away.

Where you would normally be shut in at home, today you were out and about. You had taken work leave. All your colleagues were stunned into silence yesterday when you offered everyone cupcakes. They should; you usually didn’t even respond much even when spoken to. But the day before, everyone found you pleasant to be around, and you could see the looks of relief on all of their faces. They all spoke of not being able to wait to see you the next day.

Everyone who thought they knew you took it as a sign of you getting better. But no. To you it was a sign of clarity. You felt more upbeat today than any other day. It was because you knew exactly what waited for you at the end of the day: oblivion.

Before you knew it, you were standing at the edge of the building. Your legs trembled slightly when you realised just how high up you were. The fear was taken over by confusion when you felt warmth envelop your right hand.

Dazai’s fingers were intertwined with yours and he offered you the most comforting smile you’d seen in a long while. You were completely perplexed by the words he uttered next.

“I’ve always wanted to commit a double suicide with a beautiful lady when I was human.”

You had expected that he was the angel of death, but you never thought he had been human before. How it worked you would never find out, but there was something you wanted to know.

“Aren’t angels like you immortal?”

“My death was set in stone the moment I saved you from myself.”

Dazai did not need to explicitly tell you, but you deciphered it anyway. It was a simple message: your death would spell his. That’s all there was to it. A curse of some sort, because he had failed his duties all those years back. He forcefully saved a soul bound to death by his own hands. This was his punishment. But he did not look the least bit unhappy.

If anything, he radiated pure bliss. It was a bittersweet moment. The person you had dreamt of countless times in your life, the one you had fantasised finding again and again— he finally appeared but it was on an ominous condition. It only meant one thing: you would not change your mind today.

Your legs stopped trembling. Your heart started pounding faster in your chest. The warmth of the noon sun was getting uncomfortable. Yet you found the warmth of his hand relaxing.

Without warning, you felt your hand being yanked toward him, your body covered in his warm embrace. This time, his wings were big enough to shield both you and him from the outside world. You could see nothing but his face. You were pressed against his chest, foreheads touching and eyes glued to each other’s. You felt any fear you had dissipate into the void.

“Will you meet me in another life?”

You couldn’t help but ask. It was something you were wishing for, no matter how impossible it may seem: to get to know Osamu Dazai as a person. You hoped to find him in that other life, if it was possible at all. You wanted to get to know him, to understand his soul, preferably as equals.

Dazai’s unbandaged eye was clouded with a certain bewilderment before it reverted back to a gentle kindness, one you had seen many years before.

“I promise.”

Deep down you knew it was bullshit. You could sense his uncertainty. But as you both plunged to your death, the words were the only comfort you found, aside from the tenderness of his hug.

You opened your eyes to look into his once more, and then everything went black.

A scream.

And then nothing.

tags: @yokelish

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #bsd scenarios #bsd oneshot #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bsd osamu dazai #bsd dazai x reader #bsd osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd angst #rachwrote #bsd imagine #bsd imagines

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first-and-last-neocount · 3 years

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Whumptober Day 3

Now we’re really kicking into high gear on the AUs. This is one of the two AUs for which I’ve written multiple Whumptober fills; this one I’ve been referring to in my head as the Happy Families AU, which is only barely sarcastic, because most of my headcanons for this AU are sickeningly sweet domestic fluff. There’s a few darker bits, though, and that’s what ended up in these fills.

A couple of notes on this AU setting: Jenseny survived her attempted martyrdom, she ended up leaving the Eastern Continent with Damien and Gerald due to the extreme social unrest there and the lingering prejudice against adepts, and after dealing with Calesta the two of them adopted her. Similar to another AU I’ll be showcasing among these fills, the fae is still Workable and Gerald still has some of his Hunter traits; I’ll go into more detail on my headcanons surrounding that whole topic on a later day, when my head isn’t splitting open from a migraine, which it is currently giving its best shot at.

Day 3 - Theme Chosen: “Who did this to you?”

“Jen? What's wrong?”

Damien was no adept, but he didn't need to be. He knew something was wrong the moment he walked in the yard. On any other day, his adopted daughter would have been bolting out the front door the moment she heard him reining in his unhorse at the gate; her school let out an hour before he got home from work, and she was invariably waiting, bubbling over with stories about her day. Today, however, the yard had been empty except for the dozing form of their pet weiler, a massive brown-and-black beast named Marchosias that Gerald had picked out – and named – as a puppy two years ago. When Damien unlatched the gate, the dog lifted his blocky head and whuffed once, before rolling over and going back to sleep; reassured that nothing was too terribly awry, Damien had stabled his tired horse, then gone in search of his daughter.

He found her in the sitting room, curled up on the window bench with her homework spread in front of her. She was still wearing the sky blue blouse and ruffled indigo skirt she'd had on when he dropped her off at school that morning, but she'd taken her hair out of its thick braid and let it spill over her shoulders; bent forward over a heavy textbook in her lap, it hung like a curtain, partially shielding her face. Her legs were tucked up alongside her on the cushion, and the position of the door relative to the window meant that Damien was seeing her in profile, limned by the watery autumn sunlight outside. She only barely looked up at him, a sideways flash of her dark brown eyes before her gaze returned to the book in front of her, but her expression was calm and her voice steady when she replied.

“Nothing's wrong, Dad. I just had a long day at school.”

Damien frowned, leaning against the door frame for a moment. Jenseny still didn't look up at him, strangely avoidant; she seemed to only be focusing very hard on whatever she was reading, but the lack of a smile combined with her studiedly level demeanour made a hard knot of anxiety start to form in his gut. He waited a moment, picking his words carefully, before he spoke.

“If something's bothering you, Jen, I'd like to talk about it... but I understand if you don't want to, and you don't have to give me any details if you'd rather not. I'd prefer you to be honest with me, though, so I know it's not something serious.”

Halfway through turning a page, Jenseny's hand froze in midair. The knot in his belly tightening, Damien waited silently. After a moment, Jenseny let go of the page and allowed it to flutter back into place, dropping her hand to rest on her leg where it was tucked up beside her. Damien could see her gnawing on her lip, just a little, her internal war more than obvious; he held himself still, wanting desperately to cross the room and pull her into a hug, but resolved not to pressure her while she made her decision.

Then, hesitantly, she finally turned to face him. She swung her legs off the cushion to do so, sitting upright properly – and as the far side of her face came into view, Damien gasped.

“Jen.”

There was a large, misshapen bruise blooming over her left cheekbone, dark and damning against her warm ochre skin. The facade of calm finally cracked, and Jenseny's lower lip began to tremble, her eyes welling up with a glossy sheen of tears. His heart breaking, Damien was across the room in a few strides, sinking onto the window bench next to her and putting his arm around her; instantly, she sank into him, burying the uninjured side of her face against his shoulder as she muffled a sob. Damien smoothed a hand over her dark curls, the first sparks of fury warring with the sorrow coursing through him.

“Sweetheart, who did this to you?”

For a moment, Jenseny was quiet, though Damien could feel the damp heat of her tears soaking his shirt. When she started to speak, her words were soft and muffled.

“Some of the other kids in my class... don't like me because I'm an adept. They say I shouldn't be in Sheva, because the Forest makes people like me go crazy. The boys mostly just avoid me, and that's fine. I don't need them all to be my friends. Some of the girls, though...”

Of course. Damien felt those sparks of fury start to catch, growing and brightening in his chest. The prejudice of mankind knew no bounds, after all, and even living on a world where the planet's very lifeblood seemed determined to kill them hadn't changed that. He and Gerald had known, when they debated where they were going to live, that there were risks in every answer; Gerald was more than capable of Working a protection that would keep Jenseny shielded from any of the Forest's influence, he was its master after all, but any adept living so close to Jahanna's borders was bound to draw a curious eye or two. They had decided it was worth it, for the distance it afforded from the cities where the Church kept a closer watch, but they had recognized even then that it was far from a perfect solution.

Perhaps more surprising, that the first outright aggression had come from a girl – but it sounded as if it had been more than one, and maybe it wasn't that surprising after all, given how vicious teenage girls could be when emboldened by numbers.

“What did they do?” Damien murmured.

Jenseny pulled in a deep breath and straightened up, wiping at her wet eyes as she choked out the words.

“They cornered me after class. There were five of them – they're the most popular girls in class, they always hang out together. They were making fun of me, saying that I'm going to go crazy too, that I'll probably wind up jumping into the river like that poor man last year... but then, one of them said that I might take somebody else with me.” Jenseny paused for a moment, drawing in a shuddering breath. “The whole mood shifted, I could See them all getting angrier – and they were scared, too. I could feel it pouring off them, and I was so afraid, because it felt – it felt like it used to, in the cities, on the nights when they...”

She trailed off, unable or unwilling to complete the thought, but she didn't have to. Damien felt as if an iron band was squeezing his chest. He knew exactly what she was referring to; those horrific nights, on the Eastern Continent, when the governors of the cities had staked adepts outside in the forest to act as bait for demons. He could only imagine the atmosphere of mingled terror and bloodlust that must have accompanied that practice, and for Jenseny's classmates to be in that same state...

After a few steadying breaths, Jenseny went on. “One of them, the girl that always bosses the others around, said I should leave. That I need to get out of Sheva, and never come back, so I won't make any trouble for normal people.” She shut her eyes, pain flickering over her expression, and Damien felt the first true flames of fury igniting in his heart. “Then they were all shoving me, and one of them tripped me – I didn't see which one – and I hit my face on the side of the flowerbed when I fell.”

When she opened her eyes again, they shone with fresh tears. “I ran straight home, but I didn't – I didn't want to make you and Papa worry. I know it hasn't been easy adjusting to living here, especially for Papa, not having his books or his workrooms anymore... we're all just finally starting to settle in. I don't want us to have to move. I don't want you to be worried every time I'm at school, either. They were all so angry at me, though... I don't know if I can just go back and pretend nothing happened.”

Damien had to close his own eyes for a moment, overcome. God. She's been through so much, and still, her first thoughts are for others. Was I ever that selfless? If I was, I've forgotten what that felt like. Age and loss have made me selfish.

And then. Selfish enough to be willing to do almost anything, to protect my family.

Drawing in a deep breath, Damien opened his eyes and met his daughter's worried gaze steadily. “We're not going to have to move, Jen. And those girls aren't going to hurt you again. I need you to give me their names, though.”

Jenseny's eyes widened, and Damien wondered what she saw, as her eyes flickered over the air around him; he knew she was reading the currents, Seeing the reflection of his emotions in the fae. At last, she whispered the question he'd known was coming.

“What are you going to do?”

“They won't get hurt,” he said quietly, answering the question that she really meant but hadn't quite asked. “But they also won't ever hurt you again.”

Jenseny considered that for a moment. Then, quietly, she gave him the names of the five girls.

“Thank you.” Damien opened his arms for a hug that Jenseny gladly leaned into, then pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her curls. “Why don't you go call Marc in for dinner, and then you can help me make our famous family spaghetti, how does that sound?”

Jenseny's eyes lit up. “That sounds great!” she exclaimed, her natural cheer finally breaking through the melancholy that had gripped her. She kissed his cheek, then bounded off the window bench and headed out of the room. At the doorway, she paused with one hand on the frame and glanced back, her smile falling into something smaller, warmer, and profoundly meaningful.

“Thanks, Dad.”

Then she was gone, around the corner and out the front door, calling enthusiastically for Marchosias. Hearing the dog's booming bark in response, Damien smiled and closed his eyes, reaching for the link that lay between his own soul and his husband's. Currently quiescent, but always present, and only ever a thought away.

Gerald?

A moment later, he felt a warm thrum of acknowledgement, mixed with a thread of concern; Gerald's hours at the city's Historical Archives weren't much different from Damien's hours at the hospital, and it was rare for them to communicate through the link during the work day unless something fairly urgent had happened.

I'm just finishing my last lecture of the day. What's wrong?

Damien opened his eyes in time to see Marchosias go bounding by the sitting room door, an entirely too-large blur of black and brown fur skidding across the polished wood floor as his own enthusiasm exceeded the friction of his paws, Jenseny following after him in a burst of laughter. Damien smiled more widely, and directed another thought down the link.

Tonight, after dinner, we're going... out.

He felt a burst of surprise from his husband, shifting into anticipation and curiosity; Gerald's focus on the link grew, and Damien felt his husband's mind slide against his own, picking through his recent thoughts for an explanation. He offered up the memories of his conversation with their daughter, and felt a flicker of understanding and recognition.

I see. Yes. I couldn't agree more.

As the thoughts intertwined with his own grew dark and hungry, Damien stood and headed for the kitchen to start dinner. He and Gerald might still have their ideological differences, but there was one thing they agreed perfectly on.

No one was ever going to hurt their daughter. Not without answering to them.

#whumptober2021 #no.3 #Who Did This To You?#coldfire trilogy #fic #bullying #discrimination #evil is what you make of it #gerald tarrant #damien vryce #jenseny kierstaad #the neocount writes

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aukanemin · 3 years

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Hello it's the anon who sent the ask about Tizian again! I just saw this post right before I was about to go to bed and I'm so blown away by all the thought that you put into your answer! Thank you so much for taking all this care in responding and I'm very glad that my ask helped you feel better! The artwork is beautiful~ oh, and I forgot to say last time, the soundtrack for the game is also incredible, it's got such perfect vibes! I hope you have a wonderful day and thank you again!

You are absolutely, delightfully welcome, I am so glad that you liked it;***

Thank you very much for writing to me, your words gifted me such a joy and inspiration~ Ah, and I don't think I mentioned the names of the pieces correctly, but it might be nice if I can help find them in some case and tell about them a little. Partly because I just really, really love them;ззз

The theme from the prologue, as well as the personal theme of Charet - Lamento Della Ninfa by Monteverdi, performed by Figueras. This is the very first song that I decided to add, I have a little personal history with it. Ane Brun has an amazing English version, I listened to it when I wrote the last dialogue with Charet. It's a melancholy and tenderly aching song, and very sensual and darkly passionate at the same time - and the solo vocals made it more personal and intimate, I would really recommend taking a look at it;зз

Menu screen music and Titian's/Cybele personal theme - Nocturne in C Sharp Minor (No. 20) by Shopin. There is a special passion in it, and a gentle melancholy, but the rumbling of the cello is imperious, gloom and deceptively, crushingly soft, like the sorcerer himself. The composition is both strict and changeable, and gives such a pleasant languor in the chest for me;зз (Partly, in fact, I was thinking about a heavier and more belligerent theme for him - something from Dvorak, like Symphony No 9)

Holt's theme is Miserna Chiha, just a gentle and soft Polish carol, there are many options with vocals and instrumental arrangements, but I was looking for something simple that would give relief from the serpentine heaviness and at the same time feel personal, light and tender.

After the first vocal theme changed to piano, I was looking for a song for a long time that would be subtle and personal enough for Margot, but supported the previous one. Green Sleeves were both simple and noble, gothic and sophistication are so tender and sensual, and dark at the same time in my eyes.

I had a lot of other compositions on my mind - and a huge amount of Vivaldi’s vocal pieces were a special inspiration. I will love them endlessly and forever, and each of them is very special - "Vedro con mio diletto" was chosen for the first appearance in the house of Nimrode, "Cessate, omai cessate" belongs to the white feast. They are capricious and graceful, partly gloomy and infinitely sophisticated, and each of them gives birth to a small story by itself.

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nyxshadowhawk · 4 years

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Best of Nox Arcana Playlist

Nox Arcana is by far my favorite music artist, and since I’m desperate for Halloween season to begin and can’t wait any more, here’s my Best Of playlist! I think every album is represented here except for the collab albums, the Doctor Arcana soundtrack, and Blackthorn Asylum (since that’s the only main album I don’t have a single song from). This list is about three hours worth of music, so strap in!

1. We Are Legion, Legion of Shadows: Every Nox Arcana album begins with a narration track that introduces the album’s theme and story. Of all of them, I decided to go with this one for the Best Of playlist, because I think that it encapsulates Nox Arcana and those who love it.

2. Night of the Wolf, Transylvania: Nox Arcana’s most famous track, by far. Also one of their most distinctive! The lyrics translate as, “The moon is the mistress, werewolves of evil / powers and destroying, incarnated wolf. / Wheel [or chariot], life, nightmare, vein / Sea [or likely “nightmare” again], devil, death, life.” (volkodlak, which means werewolf, is Slavic. “Mara,” meaning nightmare, is Germanic. “Dracul” speaks for itself. The rest is Latin)

3. Labyrinth of Dreams, Grimm Tales: My personal favorite Nox Arcana track, which I first discovered through this video. It is so ethereal and haunting, and absolutely screams “Halloween” to me.

4. Into the Night, Legion of Shadows: Another personal favorite of mine, and a really spooky piece. I love it for its fast pace, and I think it sounds both unsettling and exciting.

5. Shadow Dance, Season of the Witch: This is the best Season of the Witch track, in my opinion. I actually like a lot of Season of the Witch tracks, but I left most of them off this list. Season of the Witch sounds kind of like a Spiritual Successor to Grimm Tales, with that same distinctly autumnal and Halloweeny atmosphere. This piece in particular epitomizes that.

6. The Quest Begins, Blood of the Dragon: Nox Arcana has a tendency to start sounding the same after a while, but about once per album there’s a piece like this one, that sounds completely unlike anything else they’ve written. This piece is unique for how unusually optimistic it sounds. If you knew nothing about this piece, you could easily guess that it was about noble knights setting off on a quest, couldn’t you? I love the drums, and the dramatic vocals work really well.

7. Legacy of Sorrow, Shadow of the Raven: The title of this piece sounds like it could be Part 3 of Soma Cruz’s story, but I think it’s kind of an underrated gem. I like its melancholy, lilting melody, and I also like the organ that comes in midway through. This piece is just kind of everything you’d expect in a Nox Arcana track.

8. Echoes of Elise, Ebonshire: Nox Arcana’s haunting rendition of “Fur Elise,” which is very ethereal and eerie. It also has the same “aesthetic” of falling snow that permeates this album. It’s really beautiful.

9. The Hidden Realm, Legion of Shadows: One of two pre-existing tracks to be used on the Doctor Arcana soundtrack. It’s spooky, but also kind of calming and peaceful. It’s also definitely got a fantastical flavor to it.

10. The Raven, Shadow of the Raven: The title track, named for Edgar Allen Poe’s classic poem. This was the first Nox Arcana track I downloaded once I rediscovered it, almost by accident. I love this piece. Its melody is simple and repeats over and over again, but it works, almost resembling the structure of a song. I love the violin solo in the middle, which sort of acts as the “bridge.” My one complaint is that it’s much too short to actually recite “The Raven.”

11. Ebonshire, Winter’s Knight: Back before Ebonshire was an album unto itself, there was this track from Winter’s Knight. This piece definitely calls to mind the image of a spooky forest with tall, straight black trees and slight snowfall. It’s a very different vibe from the autumnal forest of Grimm Tales. It’s also peaceful and mystical, like “The Hidden Realm.”

12. Hearthside Lullaby, Ebonshire: What a gorgeous piece. This is another outlier among Nox Arcana’s music in that, while it’s still a haunting piece, it isn’t grim or sinister. It’s soft, almost cozy, like snuggling into a blanket by a fire when there’s a snowstorm outside, and drifting off to sleep. It’s another one that sounds like it should have lyrics. This is my favorite Ebonshire track.

13. Masque of the Red Death, Shadow of the Raven: “There were much glare and glitter and piquancy and phantasm [...] There were delirious fancies such as the madman fashions. There were much of the beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the bizarre, something of the terrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust.” The lilting waltz, the spooky organ, the sinister chiming of the clock. The multitude of dreams! This is the ultimate dark masquerade music, if you ask me. It totally does Poe’s story justice. You can totally imagine the masked dancers twirling, the dimly lit colored chambers, the infiltration of the deadly disease... you know what, never mind, that hit a bit too close to home.

14. Haunted, The Dark Tower: I think The Dark Tower is my favorite album, because there are more tracks from that album on this list than any other one (including Legion of Shadows). This is among the Nox Arcana pieces that I would call genuinely unsettling, as opposed to just spooky or dark. This piece is creepy and almost threatening, like something is out to get you.

15. Haunted Carousel, Carnival of Lost Souls: One of the highlights of this album for me! Carnival is definitely the most unsettling album. Listening to “Calliope” alone in the dark put such disturbing images in my head that I actually stopped listening, which is saying something. That’s not on this list because I don’t like to listen to it, but this one is, because I like this one a lot better. It’s plenty creepy, and it sounds like a nightmarish carousel. Even if you didn’t know the album theme, you’d know after listening to this.

16. The Dark Tower, The Dark Tower: ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE. The title track of The Dark Tower, and an awesome track in every sense. This just perfectly encapsulates the sinister majesty that is the Dark Tower and all the lore that goes with it.

17. Magic and Moonlight, Winter’s Eve: I think most fans agree that this track is one of the best on this album. What really needs to be said? It’s all in the title. I have to say that some of the most breathtaking moons I’ve seen have been at the beginning of February, with fresh snowfall. There is nothing like the shadows of trees on snow in the moonlight. You just know that the gods are meeting up to dance in it when you’re not watching.

18. Crimson Thirst, The Dark Tower: Why did I put this one on here? It’s pretty unremarkable, since there are a lot of other tracks like it, but this one sticks with me. This one gets stuck in my head and haunts me through the rest of the day. Honestly, all the Dark Tower tracks are excellent.

19. Virtuoso, The Haunted Symphony: The Haunted Symphony is Nox Arcana’s most recent album, and I’ve been slowly warming up to it. Its soundscape is similar to The Dark Tower and Legion, with a truly gothic flavor. This piece is just so impassioned, I can completely believe that it expresses the mad inspiration of a tortured artist (as it’s meant to in-universe).

20. Necromancer, Theater of Illusion: Theater of Illusion is a great album, and I’m really glad it’s getting more of a presence (and maybe even new lore?) in the Doctor Arcana games. This is another really fast-paced piece. I honestly think the beginning with the fast chimes is the best part.

21. Born of the Night, The Dark Tower: I mean, come on, it’s “Born of the Night”! It kind of speaks for itself, doesn’t it? Creatures of the Night rising to take over the world, shadowy choirs, the hordes of nocturnal beasts silhouetted against the moon, a Dark Lord or Dark Lady commanding them all from his/her castle, young vampires swooning in the rapture of fresh blood... There’s something so ecstatic about this piece.

22. After Hours, Carnival of Lost Souls: I wasn’t really sure if I should put this one here, but honestly, its clock-like, rhythmic chiming so jarring that it doesn’t matter where I put it. This is another really unsettling piece, both because of the chiming and also because of the creepy whispers, and I’m not exactly sure what it makes me think of. Wandering a dark labyrinth, probably. In some ways, it reminds me of The Night Circus, although the Night Circus isn’t sinister. This piece definitely stands out.

23. Dark Desire, The Dark Tower: What is this piece about? Lost love? Insatiable lust? A forbidden romance? Bloodthirst? All of the above? Whatever it is you desire, it’s clear that you’re fighting it, and you’re losing. It’s going to overtake you soon, and when it does, you’d better pray to whatever god you believe in that it doesn’t end badly for you.

24. Lords of the Night, The Haunted Symphony: This one’s along the same lines as “Born of the Night,” but stately rather than frenzied. This one is more like vampire lords and ladies gathering on a hilltop on black horses, preparing to tear off across the countryside in pursuit of prey.

25. Noctem Aeternus, The Dark Tower: This is the only concluding track from an album that I’ve put on this list, and if you’re familiar with Nox Arcana, you know what that means. I was genuinely spooked the first time I listened to this all the way through. I remember I was lying in bed reading Tales From the Dark Tower, and it went quiet, and... well, I won’t spoil it.

26. Nocturne, Transylvania: This is one of my favorite Nox Arcana tracks. It just strikes me as perfect. It’s dark and sinister, it’s atmospheric, it’s memorable, and it comes right out of the darkest depths of Überwald.

27. Pandora’s Music Box, Carnival of Lost Souls: Definitely one of the best Carnival tracks, and one of the best of Nox Arcana’s selection of creepy music box pieces. It has such a distinctive melody. Slowly, other instruments and vocals arise to compliment the music box, keeping things interesting even as it repeats itself.

28. Velvet Darkness, The Haunted Symphony: The first thing that comes to mind when I hear this piece is an empty candelabrum covered in cobwebs, sitting in front of a mirror in a corridor that is completely dark except for a bit of pale, diluted moonlight coming through clouds. I take the candelabrum almost instinctively even though it has no candles in it, and walk down the corridor...

29. Castle Dracula, Transylvania: What an underrated piece! I actually like this one better than “Night of the Wolf.” It screams “vampire.” It perfectly captures the dark majesty of Dracula’s Castle, it’s towers, its dusty halls, its freezing crypts, its gothic windows, its flickering sconces and floor candelabra that are just begging to be hit with a whip... And the Dark Lord on his throne, with a wine glass...

30. Ritual of Fire, Season of the Witch: This piece is oddly catchy. It has a great rhythm to it, and I like the percussion. It would be so much fun to dance naked around a Samhain bonfire somewhere deep in a secluded wood, with a bunch of other witches and maybe an incubus or two, or five... We’re definitely summoning or worshipping something, but ultimately, it’s just a party. It’s sinister, but a fun kind of sinister.

31. Rogue’s Hollow, Blood of the Dragon: I was pleasantly surprised when I found this piece. I love medieval-style music. This sounds like the kind of thing your Bard would play when you and your party are resting around a fire in the woods, in the middle of an epic quest. It’s peaceful. It’s a breather, maybe even a calm before the storm. It would be really easy to do a simple circle dance to.

32. The Forgotten Path, Grimm Tales: This piece sounds very... mystical? Mystical and seductive. I don’t know. It sounds a little like you enter a dark, smoky, perfumed tent and are seduced by scantily-clad women who probably want your blood, or your soul... It also sounds a bit like being escorted to an initiation ceremony by veiled women down a dark forest path, with little golden lights twinkling around you... It would make a great belly-dance piece. It’s a bit of a departure from the general fairy tale theme of the rest of the album.

33. Unhallowed Halls, Gothic: I think this is my favorite piece from Gothic. I don’t know why, it just is. It’s got a nice mix of piano, organ, strings, and harpsichord. And spooky vocals, because of course. Overall it’s a pretty standard Nox Arcana piece, but like “Crimson Thirst,” it stuck with me.

34. Mysterium, Theater of Illusion: This is the piece from Theater, and I will never understand why it wasn’t used anywhere on the Doctor Arcana soundtrack. I guess because it’s used for the album puzzle? But there isn’t a single track from Theater on Arcana’s soundtrack, even though the game ties into the lore of Theater. Anyway, this track should have been there. It should have been there because it just sounds occult, distinctly mystical, eerie, vaguely threatening but more weighty (like an initiation) than unsettling. This is an auspicious ritual, and you’re here to witness its secrets.

35. The Nameless City, Necronomicon: I haven’t listened to too much of this album, but this track really stood out to me and stayed in my head. It’s based on Lovecraft’s story of the same name, in which an explorer finds an ancient, ruined city and descends into its catacombs to discover it belonged to a lost civilization of pre-human reptile people. Because Lovecraft. This piece really sounds like film soundtrack, the track that plays when you’re on the cusp of discovering the information mankind was not meant to know. The paranoia that permeates all of Lovecraft’s work is definitely there, but it’s kind of exciting, too. You just have to know! It builds and builds until it ends with a gong.

36. Twilight, Grimm Tales: This is what I meant by “autumnal.” You can hear it, can’t you? It’s sunset in the woods, and the orange glow of the setting sun is magnificent through the mostly bare trees. The leaves crunch underfoot, with their distinctive crisp smell. The night creatures are coming out, some benign, others not so much.

37. Once Upon a Nightmare, Grimm Tales: This is one of my favorite tracks from Grimm Tales. I don’t know why I love it so much. It slowly gets more dramatic, alternating between the glockenspiel and the strings, with male backing vocals for once. It’s just the right mixture of adventurous and spooky. I love listening to it in the forest at dusk.

38. Memento Mori, Transylvania: One of the best chime/music box pieces, in my opinion. I don’t think it’s as good as “Pandora’s Music Box,” but it really grew on me after I got Transylvania.

39. Saturnalia, Winter’s Majesty: This is such a great piece to dance to. I love how it starts as a slow, medieval-ish circle dance and then picks up! There’s even clapping sounds on the rhythm. Although it’s still spooky, it puts you in the mood of a fun winter festival.

40. Gifts of the Magi, Winter’s Eve: I don’t actually know why I picked this one. I like a lot of tracks on Winter’s Eve, and “lighter” Nox Arcana pieces in general. My favorite is “Greensleeves,” but that one felt too “Christmasy” for this list. This one is better, being a bit spookier and kind of mystical whilst still being on the lighter end. It sounds like it casts the Three Kings more as wizards than kings or priests.

41. Veil of Darkness, Darklore Manor: One of only two tracks I have from Nox Arcana’s debut album. It’s a pretty standard spooky Nox Arcana piece, but a good one nonetheless.

42. Lullaby, Winter’s Knight: Another one of my favorite chime/music box pieces. Unlike “Hearthside Lullaby,” it sounds less like an actual lullaby, and more like a piece to accompany an animatronic ballerina.

43. Nightshade (Single): One of the newest wintery pieces from Nox Arcana. I like this one almost as much as “Hearthside Lullaby.” It’s also on the lighter side of things, but I like that it’s more otherworldly than spooky. It’s like exploring a frosty garden during a light snowfall.

44. Undying Love, The Dark Tower: Wow, what an unnerving piece to be titled “Undying Love.” It sounds downright threatening, and maybe a little tragic. That handsome vampire you’re dancing with is definitely going to sink his fangs into your neck. Or maybe this vampire’s sunk into despair because the humans killed his wife again.

45. Brides to Darkness, Transylvania: Speaking of vampires and their loves, there’s this haunting tribute to Dracula’s brides. They are beautiful, ethereal, and dangerous. I love that this piece is almost entirely vocals in the first half, and then the creepy harpsichord comes in.

46. Legion of Shadows, Legion of Shadows: The title track. Plenty spooky with that organ. Similar to “Born of the Night” in that the night creatures are rising up to take over the world or get vengeance, but this time you’re the night creature and it’s something to be proud of. Honestly, I wish this album had more context. Who’s Lorelei, and what happened to her?

47. The High Seas, Phantoms of the High Seas: This was one of the standout tracks from this album for me. Like “The Quest Begins,” it sounds distinctly adventurous, but more sinister than optimistic. We’re setting out over sea instead of land this time, and the sea is brutally unforgiving.

48. Dreamscape, Legion of Shadows: Another really spooky piece that’s kind of unlike anything else Nox Arcana has produced. It definitely has the quality of exploring an eerie, surreal landscape, like an alien planet. This isn’t the Poe album, but it sort of reminds me of Poe’s poem “Dream-Land,” which I think is super underrated.

49. Black Sails, Phantoms of the High Seas: Another piece from this album that really stood out to me. I really like the instrumentation. I like the harp, and the stringed instrument in the middle that sounds like the guitar used in the “winter” pieces... is that what it is, a guitar? Whatever it is, it has such a unique sound.

50. Grimstone Manor, Gothic: This piece lives up to the album’s name. That church organ really hits you. This is another classic example of Nox Arcana, with the organ and piano and vocals and everything. It’s one of the best pieces from Gothic.

51. Shadowplay, Theater of Illusion: This is definitely my favorite piece from Theater, and one of my favorite Nox Arcana pieces overall. I love how energetic and fast-paced it is, and I can easily imagine an umbrakinetic dancing on a stage, manipulating the shadows on the wall as they do. They conjure writing tendrils, shadowy dragons, swarms of bats and crows that they send out into the audience with a flourish... I think this piece is just so much fun!

52. Gypsy Caravan, Transylvania: There are a lot of these types of pieces across Nox Arcana’s albums. Like “The Forgotten Path,” it sounds seductive and smoky. This would also make for a great belly-dance piece, and it’s fun to listen to while reading Vargo’s Gothic Tarot or the Madame Endora deck.

53. Highland Storm, Blood of the Dragon: What’s this? Nox Arcana does a Celtic piece? With bagpipes? There is absolutely nothing else like this in Nox Arcana’s repertoire. It sounds so unlike their usual work, I probably wouldn’t guess it was Nox Arcana if I didn’t know better. I love it. It makes for a great medieval-battle-style piece, and was a lot of fun to listen to in Scotland.

54. Temple of the Black Pharaoh, Necronomicon: This is a really spooky Egyptian-style piece, that instantly transports you to dusty sealed tombs that almost certainly have curses. The whispered chanting consists of the names of Egyptian gods, and Nyarlathotep. (Nyarlathotep, Atum, Osiris, Set, Amon-Ra. Nyarlathotep, Khonsu, Anubis, Set, Amon-Ra.)

55. Sanctuary of Shadows, Darklore Manor: Another really creepy organ piece, and the other one I have from Darklore Manor. I’m not sure whether it makes me think of the atrium of a haunted Victorian mansion, or a secret temple where shadowy people conduct rituals, or vampires and their attendant beasts, or what.

56. Autumn Dusk, Season of the Witch: I don’t know why I chose this one over “Bell, Book, and Candle” or “Mystic Circle” or any of the other ones I like from this album. I guess the clue is in the name. Like “Twilight” and “Shadow Dance,” it just sounds like autumn. Like the setting in Over the Garden Wall, but even spookier.

57. Pax Terra, Winter’s Eve: Another piece that sounds unlike anything else Nox Arcana has produced. It’s almost entirely choral, except for the sound of church bells, and it’s pretty. It has a kind of bittersweet optimism to it, and it’s moving. I’ve actually cried listening to it. Its lyrics are Latin, and translate as: “Everlasting God, life on the forest floor, eternal sacred earth -- tree glory, life [of] the nourishing mother, eternal sacred earth -- incarnate, hail blessings, glory to Nox Arcana [night secrets] -- To the threshold of time, follow the song, glory to Nox Arcana!” The grammar isn’t perfect, but it’s still beautiful, profound, and usually uplifting.

58. Dark Embrace, The Haunted Symphony: I remember when this album was released last year, and I thought to myself, “Have they seriously not written a piece called ‘Dark Embrace’ yet?” And man, what a piece for that title! This is definitely my favorite track from this album. Technically, it’s the same melody as “Virtuoso,” but with strings instead of piano. While “Virtuoso” sounds like a standard (although memorable) Nox Arcana piece, this one is unique and striking.

59. Toccata, Legion of Shadows: What better to close off with than “Toccata and Fugue in D Minor”? I actually have no idea how this piece came to be associated with vampires; its first use in film was for a Jekyll and Hyde adaptation, meanwhile the famous Bela Lugosi Dracula film begins with... the Swan Lake theme, of all things??? So, I don’t know how this became the “vampire music,” but I’m glad it did. Nox Arcana’s cover begins with the classic organ, but most of it is piano with some strings, eventually bringing in harpsichord before returning to the organ. There are spooky vocals and some tolling bells for effect.

If you made it to the end of this list, I commend you, and I’m interested to hear what everyone else’s “best of Nox Arcana” playlists include. Nox Arcana is the best!

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beneaththetangles · 3 years

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Reader’s Corner: Demon Slayer, Nerdy Nurse, and Play It Cool, Guys

Date A Live, Vol. 1

Having enjoyed the Date A Live anime, I was curious to check out the source material, and the first volume didn’t disappoint. It’s a high school harem romantic comedy…that takes place in a borderline post-apocalyptic setting full of mystery, absurdity, and tragedy. There are plenty of sweet or humorous moments, but the narrative never lets one forget its darker side. Some regard the “Spirits” (mysterious girls whose extradimensional incursions bring cataclysm) as monsters and try to kill them, but protagonist Shido rejects this in favor of a more peaceful approach. Aided by a bizarre paramilitary group commanded by his little sister, Shido seeks dialogue and coexistence with Spirits. In practice, this means Shido must get to know them, ask them on dates, and get them to fall for him. Shido is a deeply compassionate person, and as one reads of his efforts to save a Spirit — choosing love over death, reconciliation over enmity, forgiveness over resentment, other over self — the Christ parallels practically write themselves. I can’t deny Date A Live is weird, but somehow it works, and the positive themes underlying the story are excellent. I certainly plan to continue reading this series. ~ JeskaiAngel

Date A Live (vol. 1) is published by Yen Press.*

The Wavering of Haruhi Suzumiya

Seven words: “The Adventures of Mikuru Asahina Episode 00.” Kyon’s description of the SOS Brigade’s video for the North High cultural festival is the most humorous story in volume six of the Haruhi Suzumiya series, a high point both for this book and the series in general, and by itself makes Wavering a worthy read. The remainder of the volume—if not on the same level as its opening chapter—continues with the unusual brew of school life, romance, comedy, sci-fi, and mystery that makes the franchise special. However, be warned that most of the volume feels mundane, almost like side stories,with nothing much of consequence happening, at least not patently so, until the intriguing final chapter, “The Melancholy of Mikuru Asahina,” which not only functions as a nice bookend to the volume but comes just when it seems that Asahina’s counterpart, Nagato, has received far more attention and character development. It’s fulfilling to read the Asahina-focused material in both stories mentioned—though be warned: You may get knocked flat by an adorable (and possibly dangerous) Mikuru Beam! ~ Twwk

The Wavering of Haruhi Suzumiya is published by Yen Press.*

Play It Cool, Guys: Vol. 1

This was A LOT of fun! It’s been some time since I chuckled/laughed this much when reading a manga. After finishing, I actually went back and reread some of the pages just so I could laugh again, because I was enjoying it so much! However, Play It Cool, Guys is different than I expected; I didn’t realize that each of the guys are a different age. Considering they are different ages, I wouldn’t have expected for all the stories to really flow in transition as well as they did, but the mangaka does a fantastic job of doing just that! Where one story ended, another began, but without a feeling of being jilted due to a shifting too quickly to a different character’s voice. The colored pages were also AMAZING! The way color enhanced the pages was awesome! And the art of course is gorgeous! I’m really interested in reading the next volume, and know that this will probably become a manga I will read again and again if I need a pick me up or a good dose of laughter. These guys are just hilariously cool! ~ Laura A. Grace

Play It Cool, Guys (Vol. 1) is published by Yen Press.* See a video review by Laura here.

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba, Vol. 21

Demon Slayer is pain, especially the latter volumes as the series nears its conclusion. Volume 21 opens with the defeat of Upper Rank Kizuki number one but at enormous sacrifice; this immediate rush into highly emotional material indicates how the series, developed for so many chapters, has been and continues to be in its climactic arc, one that’s full of extreme violence, gore, and death. Shades of black cover these pages more than any other previously, indicating how much blood is spilled as the remaining Hashira fight Muzan in what continues to appear to be a losing battle. However, part of the beauty of Demon Slayer is that while it’s full of action and hyper violent, it’s a sensitive story and well-written—these chapters are the very natural output of all that’s occurred before, and as such the chaos is imbued with all that’s come before—a whole lot of heart. Coincidentally, the structure of this volume also feeds into that assessment, starting emotionally, and further, giving readers a chance to mourn for character deaths before progressing to the tenacious action of the middle portion, before closing with a story that functions as important context for the entire manga and presumably for the conclusion, ending this violent volume with a gentle whisper, and reminding us why this series is so very good. ~ Twwk

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba is published by Viz*

Do You Like the Nerdy Nurse?

From a cover like this, I was expecting this to be Nerdy Nurse to be spicy manga that could, potentially, be something I would recommend our readers avoid. I was wrong. Guess judging books by their cover isn’t a great idea. I feel like that should be an expression. Anyway, the titular “nerdy nurse,” Nijiko Momoyama, has all the boys at her school falling head over heels. However, while she loves her students in a maternal sort of way, she has no interest in children romantically. Her primary focus, instead, is on her geeky hobbies. She’s a huge manga, anime, and gatcha gaming otaku. She can’t get enough of it! In fact, one of her students discovers her geeky hobbies and ends up spending a lot of time helping out in the nurses office. It’s obvious he has a crush on her and makes it relatively known from time to time. That said, overall Momoyama is very professional and doesn’t ever give him an indication that she would reciprocate his middle school crush. Overall, she just talks to him as a fellow nerd and, frankly, that’s okay. Volume one was cute and, in answer to the question, yes, I did like the nerdy nurse. ~ MDMRN

Do You Like the Nerdy Nurse? is published by Yen Press.*

The Sorcerer’s Receptionist, Vol. 3

The highlight of The Sorcerer’s Receptionist continues to be its tsundere narrator. Yes, I know tsundere characters are a dime a dozen, and so are light novels with first-person narration, but this is the only light novel I’ve encountered with such a blatantly, amusingly tsundere narrator. It’s entertainingly exasperating hearing protagonist Nanalie��s perspective on the story. The other highlight include how Alois, the guy she deems her archnemesis, continues to practice love toward her. Happily, a big relationship upgrade occurs. My only complaint with this volume is that the obnoxious memory wipe trope rears its ugly head. Thankfully, it does not befall the romantic leads, at least. I usually hate this plot device, have ranted about it before, and hate it here, too. That said, despite my grumbling, I quite enjoyed this volume, and would still recommend this series. ~ JeskaiAngel

The Sorcerer’s Receptionist is published by J-Novel Club.

Neon Genesis Evangelion: Campus Apocalypse, Vol. 4

Two down so far for 2021! I have read two different Alternate Universe (AU) Neon Genesis Evangelion manga—the second of these, Neon Genesis Evangelion: Campus Apocalypse, is by volume four beginning to pain the angels as now, basically, vampires. But as the story progresses, more is also revealed about the world setting. It turns out this AU retains the concept of Rei as a clone from the mainline story, but also embraces the concept of an AU multiverse by this, the last volume of the series. I kind of wish it had another volume or two to really finish up the story because by these chapter, Campus Apocalypse was becoming more immersive. The first two volumes were great setups; however, it’s clear the series’ days were numbered as the second two raced to get across the finish line. I could have used a little more before we got there, but it is what it is. ~ MDMRN

Neon Genesis Evangelion: Campus Apocalypse is out of print, but originally published by Dark Horse Comics.

Your Lie in April, Vol. 1

For the month of April I’ve decided to do a reread of Your Lie in April, and let me tell you, I am already glad I have. The artwork from Naoshi Arakawa is gorgeous and incredibly expressive. The first chapter alone provides better introduction and storytelling than some manga accomplish in an entire series. The introduction of Kosei and his first encounter with Kaori is such an amazingly well crafted moment that it continues to stick with me after three watches of the anime and now a second readthrough of the manga. If you want a teenage love story that also tackles topics like depression and abandonment in a very real way, combined with gorgeous art, check out this series, and feel free to join me in reading it in April. ~ MDMRN

Your Lie in April is published by Kodansha.

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Reader’s Corner is our way of embracing the wonderful world of manga, light novels, and visual novels, creative works intimately related to anime but with a magic all their own. Each week, our writers provide their thoughts on the works their reading—both those recently released as we keep you informed of newly published works and older titles that you might find as magical (or in some cases, reprehensible) as we do.

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koolchickskoolfics · 3 years

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im not super into webtoons but this is my friend @istanfrancisabernathy’s section of our google doc, copied near verbatim (only edits made are formatting stuff) bc i trust her god-tier taste

19 Days

This is a very popular webtoon Rn and it is SO FREAKIN GOOD. It’s really funny and it’s about these 4 friends and their high school ,,, adventures ig with a touch of ~mafia mystery~ as the desc says. This is also an ongoing webtoon so chapters are still being released ! Overall I’m in LOVE w this webtoon it’s so funny and sweet one of my personal faves.

Tamen de Gushi (Their Story)

THIS!!! This is similar to 19 days. It is a rlly romantic comedy type thing w,, sweet gfs and a really funny side friendship. Overall rlly enjoyed this one

Nan Hao and Shang Feng

Another comedy, sorry not sorry. Again, if you like 19 days and tamen de gushi, this is in the same vein, it’s about two best friends and one of the besties has a crush on this girl in his class. But little does he know that girl ships him with his best friend and it’s really funny and yeah 😀

Ganbare! Nakamura-kun!! (Go for it, Nakamura-kun!!)

THIS. THIS. THIS IS THE CUTEST THING I HAVE EVER READ. it’s about a boy who has a crush on another guy in his class and it’s really simple and sweet and short but the art style is so CUTE and just everything about this manga is,,, chef’s kiss.

Shimanami Tasogare (Our Dreams at Dusk)

This is one of the first mangas that I read. This manga is genuinely one of the most beautiful manga’s I have ever read. Compared to my last couple suggestions this is a more serious manga. The main character is a boy who wants to kill himself after his classmates start to figure out that he is gay, but a mysterious woman saves him and takes him to this lounge-esque place where he meets a group of other LGBT people and basically it’s about the different struggles that these people deal with for being LGBT, and how the main character grows and learns to accept himself. It’s just so beautiful and melancholy and has really great representation and discussions so yes. I know this description is really fucking long but yeah I have a lot of feelings for this manga and could talk about it forever tbh

Ao no Flag (Blue Flag)

Lord forgive me I added a shounen manga to this list. But this is NOT your typical shounen manga. (Honestly, thinking about it, idk why this is considered shounen. More shoujo than shounen.) This is a romance/school/slice of life manga as well, but it truly has so much depth. It’s basically about a boy and his relationships with friends, girlfriend, trying to figure high school and life out. There is a love triangle type thing too, but manages to not be as cliche as I thought? Also, the dialogue in this manga is GREAT. Like, I was shocked at some of the discussions they had. And the ending is just…. *screams* this manga is another that I could talk about for fucking ever I really loved it.

Doukyuusei (Classmates)

This is it. This is what true love looks like. This is a really cute manga about a typical high school romance. Not much to say here but I really loved it. There is a fucking movie adaptation of this manga that is SO GOOD. The full movie is on YouTube so if you’re ever so inclined to watch it’s here

Suicide Boy

Okay lemme just say, with this webtoon: major suicide TW (obviously). It’s mostly humorous though.

It’s about a boy who basically keeps trying to commit suicide and failing and his adventures with friends and shit along the way. This IS a comedy but the theme is obviously dark and there are some somber moments so keep that in mind!!! But I really like this, the art style and the characters and uhhhh yeah

Umibe no Etranger - Stranger by the Sea

You thought it was over… you thought wrong 😈

This is a really cute manga as well I’m fully in love with the art style. There is some spicy content in this manga (only a little bit tho) but just uhhh yeah beware of that. The anime adaptation came out in Japan this year!! I have no idea when we will get it but I can’t wait. There is also a sequel that’s like way longer

Sasaki to Miyano

Currently reading this and I’m in love it’s so mf cute. It’s about a boy who reads BL manga,,, There is also an anime adaptation coming out for this too so um yes very much hyped as fuck

An Uncomfortable Truth

Genres: psychological/tragedy/drama (idk if you’re into those kinds of genres but yeah!!) also gore warning for this webtoon

This is a very disturbing and sad webtoon so warning asf but it was rlly good :(( about a yandere BOY with a very disturbing past and his brother

Given

music kageyama and hinata basically sad v sad but so very good

There’s an anime adaptation of this that’s really good too it’s just called Given

Tokyo Revengers (this is my fav manga atm)

Omg wait I’m adding to this after so long,,, I forgot to add this, it’s literally amazing bye

It’s about a 26 year old guy who’s pretty lame and basically has done jack shit with his life. He sees on TV that his girlfriend from middle school died and then he discovers that he can travel back in time when he gets in an accident and he decides that he’s going to try and go back in time to save her life/stop her from dying. It’s an action manga and is mainly about gangs so yeah 👍 but pls it’s literally so fuckijg good and it’s one of those stories that I got hooked on from the very beginning and yea and the art is wonderful

#webtoon masterlist

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sinner-as-saint · 5 years

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Haunted.

Destroyer! Chris x Reader.

Requested by Anon.

Themes: SMUT, slight Non/Con elements, language, ANGST

You heard knocking against the wooden door of your little, cozy apartment, and you knew immediately that it was him.

Chris.

A weird, yet familiar knot formed in your gut. It wasn’t fear, it was … melancholy. You liked him.

You liked him a lot, ever since the first time you saw him – with his perfect beard, and slightly shaved head, and his tattoos and his rings; and his attitude.

Everything about him screamed danger – and it pulled you in even more.

Prior to meeting him, you had never thought that you could fall for guys like him. Guys who were so reckless yet so magnetic.

But there was something about him; something you noticed the first time you both had sex. He was scared of commitment. He was scared of getting attached.

Although he made it very clear that whatever ‘relationship’ you both had was supposed to be strictly physical – you couldn’t help but fall for him. Hard.

And it hurt. Because every time, after fucking you into oblivion countless amounts of time, he’d always make up some excuse and leave.

He never stayed, never wanted to stay. And he told you that, but you were still foolishly falling for him.

He knocked again, and you nervously secured your fluffy dark red towel around your chest and proceeded to open the door.

You were freshly out of the shower when you heard knocking, and didn’t have time to put proper clothes on. Then again, that would’ve been useless because he would end up tearing your outfit anyway.

He did that often, and so far, Chris had ruin 5 shirts, and 7 underwear of yours.

You could say that he was a bit more rough and passionate that your regular lover.

Droplets of warm water dripped from your body and fell carelessly onto the flooring as you made your way to your front door.

You unlocked it, grabbed the cold, metal knob and opened the door to reveal a very handsome, devilishly handsome man.

Chris.

He had a dark jacket on, and the very evident blue in his eyes made you feel a certain way. He slowly licked his lips as he eyed you up and down.

You weren’t ashamed, or shy. He had seen you naked so, so many times now. You were, however, concerned with the fact that whenever he looked at you, there was only lust in his eyes.

He said he liked you on so many occasions, but you know he never meant it. Men like him don’t fall for girls like you.

No.

Instead, they use you. And you let them, because you crave their touch.

Without exchanging any greeting, he allowed himself in. And you obediently shifted to the side to let him in.

He walked into your living room, and dropped his duffle bag to the floor. You locked the door, sighed and walked towards him.

“What took you so long to open the door, baby? You know I hate waiting,” he plopped on your couch and pulled you onto his lap.

Instinctively, you straddled his thighs and let go of your hold onto the towel – allowing it to leisurely fall apart and reveal your bare body to him. The towel bunched around your waist, yet it didn’t stay put for long as Chris’ eager hands removed it and threw somewhere on the floor behind you.

He liked you better naked, which was for sure. He had mentioned it once, when he stumbled into your apartment one night; drunk and barely able to keep it together.

Your hair was slightly wet, tied up in a really messy bun. You had absolutely no makeup on, yet the remnants of your day’s mascara stained around your eyes a little bit; since you didn’t get the chance to wipe it away properly. Your skin was still damp, and you were sure that you didn’t look very appealing, but something about the way he looked at you made you feel … dangerous.

It was nice to feel sexually, undoubtedly, desired by a man of his caliber.

“I was taking a shower, sorry,” you replied faintly.

Your hands moved upwards to cup his face. His beard felt scratchy but you liked it. His blue eyes stared up at you, twinkling in the dim light of the evening. He was beautiful.

“Had a long day today, and I thought my favorite girl would help me unwind,” he whispered as his hands cupped your ass cheeks and pushed you further into him.

You nodded eagerly, quietly noting the hint of alcohol in his breath.

It was always like this, he’d finish his day, then hang around the pub – drink a little, flirt with the women who tried to get with him. Then, somehow, he’d find his way to your apartment – where he knew you’d welcome him with open arms no matter what.

You were someone he could rely on; something he used for his own benefit. And you never complained.

Before you knew, you were under him on your bed. His body hovered above yours, your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders.

His lips on yours, bread scratching your skin as you relished his taste on your mouth. His mouth moved feverishly against yours – bringing you on the edge just by slipping his tongue past your lips.

“You’re mine, babygirl. All mine,” he’d whisper as he kissed his way down your damp body. Shivers ran down your body at his words.

He spread apart your legs with ease, and settled in between them – his face dangerously close to your dripping heat.

Without warning, his tongue slipped in between your folds and his hands locked around your thighs, refraining you from moving away from his sweet assault.

His tongue traced imaginary circles around your swollen clit and every time he did so, your body shook as moans escaped your mouth uncontrollably.

Your arousal coated his lips and dripped down his beard.

You’d moan his name, over and over again as his mouth brought you closer and closer to your release. He had a way of making you cum hard using only his mouth.

And even after you did, he wouldn’t stop. He’d only moved his mouth against your throbbing, sensitive spot even more relentlessly.

And this could go on for quite some time.

He’d take you in every way. Had you coming all over the place; around his fingers and his thick cock multiple times.

Then as usual, as soon as he was done, he’d leave.

He’d get dressed and leave you alone, sore and cold on your bed and he’d just walk out of the door.

Only to come back the next day. And the next. And the next after that.

---

You cried when you woke up every morning. You cried because you knew that no matter how he treated you, you’d still love him just the same. And that wasn’t healthy.

Chris came by again, some nights later. This time, drenched by the rain that caught him.

“I need a warm shower now. Care to join me, baby?” he asked, removing his clothes and dropping them on the floor of your bedroom.

Resist.

“I’m good actually, I showered like an hour ago,” you replied, avoiding his piercing blue eyes.

He narrowed his eyes at you, then proceeded to enter your bathroom anyways.

Meanwhile, you mentally prepared a speech for him. One which consisted of you telling him that you could no longer be his fuck toy. His booty call. Nothing.

Truth is, it was hurting you.

15 minutes later, he was out of the shower with only a white towel wrapped around his lower region. It hung low on his lean waist and his muscular arms and chest were on full display. Not an ounce of shame was on his face as he walked towards you, grabbed you by the waist and dipped his head into the crook of your neck – placing innocent kisses on your skin.

His warm, wet skin pressed against your body and his body heat was all you could focus on.

“Chris, I-,”

He shushed you by placing the palm of his hand against your mouth. He guided you backwards until your back hit the wall, right beside the bed.

“Something’s changed. I can feel it. What is it?” he asked, nibbling the skin under your jaw.

Your removed his hand from your mouth forcefully; an action which caught his attention. And you could tell he didn’t like it.

“I don’t want this anymore. We- I don’t wanna be your fuck toy. You walk in here like you own the place, like you own me. Then you leave without even caring for a brief second. I’m done, now. I need something more stable, more comforting. I can’t do this anymore,” you finished and the look in his face indicated that he wasn’t loving your rebellion.

“Is that so?” he asked, guiding his hands to grab your ass. He pressed his body into you even more, and you could feel his growing bulge. You whimpered.

You nodded faintly. You knew he was not leaving any time soon, especially not right now. So, you braced yourself for whatever he planned for you.

“Well you don’t get to decide when we’re done or not. You belong to me, and I will use you like I own you. Because I do,” he spoke in a sinister tone.

His words scared you, but excited you at the same time

Without missing another seconds, he ripped your extra-large, white shirt off your body – which was the only article of clothing you were wearing at the moment.

Your now ruined, large white shirt fell to the ground soundlessly; just like your protests – unheard of.

One of Chris’ hands wrapped around your throat, while the other one cupped your heat. Slowly, he rubbed his two fingers in between your folds, smearing the wetness around.

You whimpered; in pleasure and defeat.

He knew your body; he knew what got you going. He definitely knew how to make you surrender.

“You don’t sound like you want me to stop, baby, do you?” he asked. Mocking you as he dragged moans after moans out of your mouth just by using his fingers.

Your moans got higher, and higher and just when you were able to let go; Chris removed his hand from your now glistening core.

Your eyes flew open as you stared at him in disbelief; lips parted as your breathing got more and more rapid.

His hand at your throat tightened just the slightest bit – showing you the degree of control he had over your body and your mind.

You could hear your heartbeat ringing in your ear.

“Bed. Now,” he ordered and released you.

You dragged your bare body onto your bed and waited for him. He was right behind you, watching your every movement – deciding how to punish you for even having the thought of ending what you had with him.

He pushed you until you laid flat on the bed, he discarded the towel he had around him and climbed on top of you.

His head dipped and he took of your nipples in between his teeth, his beard brushing against your skin in the process.

Your back arched off the bed, pushing yourself further into his mouth. He hummed in appreciation and you felt his cock, stiff against your inner thigh.

He swirled his tongue over your nipple a couple of times, before releasing it and focusing on the other one.

You were far from quiet while he was at it. Your mewls and moans encouraged him, and caused his blood to rush to his lower abdomen even faster. The lust coursed in his veins as he looked at your through his lashes; your face had a pleasurable frown upon it and your mouth was partly opened. Your hands cradled his head as he grazed your sensitive bud with his teeth.

He lifted off of you for a brief second, asking you to turn around.

You did.

You always did whatever he asked you to.

Your ass was in the air, and soon his hand came down to smack it. It burned.

You felt his knuckles against your wet folds right after the spank, he dragged his hand up and down your heat lazily – making you whimper and shiver in the process.

You buried your face into the pillow as you tried not to moan out loud to give him the satisfaction he wanted.

“Mine. Fucking mine, and you dare tell me that I can’t fuck you anymore? You’re wrong baby,” he whispered as he brushed his lips up your spine, his torso pressed against your back – pushing you into the bed.

You could feel his erection against your ass.

“Chris… please. I don’t- fuck!” you exclaimed as he suddenly lifted your hips and stroked your entrance with the tip of his cock.

The friction was causing you to lose your mind.

“You were saying?” he mocked again, pushing his member into you inch by inch – allowing you to feel all of him.

Unable to form words, you could only moan as response.

He filled you completely, his hand slipping under you to grab your breast as he slowly started rocking in and out of you.

His cock stretched your hole – which was painful at first, but you grew accustomed to it pretty quickly like you did every time he was over.

“Chris, I- oh fuck!” you could barely form a coherent sentence as he moved rhythmically against you; your body moving along with his as he sped up into you.

He claimed you with a hunger.

You felt the pressure forming in between your hips soon, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer with the pace he adopted.

He felt it too, as your walls clenched around him perfectly.

“Come on, baby, cum for me,” he let out through a ragged breath.

You obeyed. Like you always did.

The only difference is, usually, right after you came; he would too. But this time, he didn’t.

He kept pounding into you as you rode the waves of euphoria – moaning his name in the process.

He fucked you relentlessly.

“Chris- I-,”

Your words cut short as he soon dragged another orgasm out of you. Your body was shaking, writhing under him – and he liked it.

He liked the control he had over you.

Your legs felt numb, the pressure in between your hips became unbearable as you came for the second time. Your clit throbbed.

Chris pulled out of you, for a brief moment.

He turned you back around and slipped his member into you yet again. You held on to his strong arms for support as his kept rocking into you at a fast pace.

His thick member sank mercilessly into you; over and over again.

Your thoughts were a mess. You came so hard the second time that you were barely able to form any proper thoughts. All you could focus on was him, and what his body did to you.

Chris mouth found your neck and he left bruises along the way; quickly finding your sweet spot and assaulting the skin.

Your nails dug into his skin, and he groaned ferociously and sped up into you even more. You were ashamed to admit that you could feel another orgasm forming.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you heard Chris curse as he felt your walls clenching around him for the third time in a row.

Your back arched off the bed again as you came around him and a series of cuss words left your mouth. Your heart going crazy inside your chest, tears rolling down your face – you were a complete mess.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his cock still erected inside of you.

You were out of breath as you opened your eyes to stare into his blue orbs.

His roughly grabbed your jaw and placed his mouth on yours again. Lips moving against yours sinfully, his tongue slipped inside and he toyed with yours.

He removed his mouth from yours and stared into your eyes again.

Without any word said, he started rocking into you again. Slowly, then gradually building up his pace – he moved in and out of you like he owned you.

The tears fell again, sliding down your cheeks as you shamefully felt the pressure forming yet again.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours was all you could focus on as he fucked you into oblivion.

You needed him to stop, but you didn’t want him to at the same time.

“Chris… please, I-“

Overstimulated, you couldn’t word your thoughts properly. Your tears flowed down your cheeks constantly, not out of physical pain but because your heart was aching.

You knew that once this was over, he would walk out of your apartment without even sparing you a second glance. He wouldn’t care.

He didn’t love you.

He didn’t love you like you loved him.

Finally, Chris came with a grunt; biting down at your shoulder as he did so.

He collapsed on top of you, his body weight pressing against you. Your arms involuntarily wrapped around his shoulders as you cried. Bitterly.

Not only were you physically exhausted, but your heart was tired too.

You held on to him as you let the tears fall, and the sobs shook your worn-out body. You could hear his heavy breathing against your ear.

“You hurt me,” you sobbed and noticed that his body tensed up. He supported himself up using his elbows – placed on either side of you.

His blue eyes stared down at you.

His cum, mixed with yours was still trickling out of you as you cried.

You were a real mess; falling apart at his hands.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he spoke, still trying his best to catch his breath.

Your eyelids started getting heavier with each passing second, and Chris noticed.

“Go to sleep, baby. You need it,” he finished by placing a kiss on your forehead.

It was an unfamiliar gesture, yet you couldn’t think upon it too much because as soon as those words left his mouth, you were already drifting away to a much needed slumber.

---

Chris knew he hurt you.

He was aware that he was using you as a means for release. It was selfish of him, he knew. Yet, he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t refrain himself from wanting you – all the time.

He got out of your bed, and got dressed. He watched you as you slept; snuggling up to your blanket. A sad smile made its way on his face.

“I’m sorry, babygirl. But I can’t stay. I hope you understand,” he spoke to your sleeping figure.

He could see the marks he left on your skin; dark red and almost purple-ish.

They would stay, most definitely. But he wouldn’t.

“I’m moving away for work, baby. Don’t really know when I’ll be back. Hopefully you’re still here when I do. Take care,” he approached your body, grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles as he whispered the words against your skin.

He stepped away from your bed, adjusted your baby blue blanket over your sleeping body so you wouldn’t get cold during the night and finally made his way out of your room.

He turned around one last time before closing the door on his way out.

Another faint, sad smile formed on his face.

He crossed your living room, and finally walked out – of your apartment, and your life as well.

---

Waking up the next morning was as heartbreaking as any other day. You sat up in the middle of your bed, looked down at your bare body and saw the marks he left on you.

Bruises along your thighs, bites along your collar bones and you were sure your neck was stained by him as well.

You had gotten used to waking up with him being long gone. Yet, today was different.

Along with his absence, there was something else that you sensed in the air.

Maybe a sense of… finality?

Either way, whether he came back or not – you knew memories of the time spent with him were to haunt you for a long while.

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sweetcatmintea · 5 years

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Sylveon Theory

Hello, hello! Here’s a pokemon theory for you right on time for Halloween. Who could be better to talk about now than our fairy friend Sylveon?

But Catmint, Sylveon is the cutesy cotton candy trans rights eeveelution, how could he fit here?

I’m glad I decided you asked! What I’m proposing is that Sylveon isn’t a representative of the lollipop guild, but a trickster in disguise. He’s a loyal pokemon if you’re strong enough to handle him but if you aren’t, well, I hope you don’t mind being spirited away. There’s actually a lot of evidence here, so let’s jump into it!

Starting with his design and dex entry, his cutesy appearance is made to lull opponents into a false sense of security, a common theme in fairy type moves. (Gnoggin has a good video dedicated to breaking down fairy moves.) His flesh ribbon feelers emit emotion regulating energy that can calm hostile opponents, or, when he’s feeling peckish, he can force his prey to lower their guard before he strikes. Angler fish anyone? This predatory pokemon will wrap his ribbons around the arm of his favourite person, allowing him to read his beloved trainer’s emotions. There’s a direct link between Sylveon’s abilities and his trainer’s emotions (thoughts). A cute sign of affection or a bid to alter their mind, it’s hard to say.

Flesh ribbons and clinginess alone isn’t enough to convince you of his darker side? Don’t worry, there’s more. What big fangs you have Sylveon! ‘All the better to hunt with, my dear.’ Among the eeveelutions, Sylveon is one of two that are shown with visible teeth in the official artworks. Who is the other? The dark type Umbreon. Pointed teeth are commonly used to hint at danger. Isn’t it funny that the only two of the fox/cat/rabbit family with teeth are the fairy and evil types?

Have you seen Sylveon’s eyes? Really seen them? Big, blue, pupil-less eyes you could get lost in. They just don’t match the rest of his family’s. Although, I’m sure you’ve seen them before. Don’t fairy tale girls have big, pupil-less, baby doll eyes? What about Gym-leader Valerie? Again, glassy, otherworldly eyes. Even Trial Captain Mina has a sleepy, almost blank, expression. All of these trainers are fairy-type specialists. (Mina doesn’t train a Sylveon and is the only one with normal-ish eyes.) Is it really chance that Sylveon trainers would take his attributes like this? Are they really glassy-eyed or has he held their hand a little too long?

Still not convinced? Let’s talk about Sylveon’s home. He’s the poster child of fairy-type, and the only eeveelution introduced into Kalos. Ergo, if it’s fairy, it’s up his alley. It’s fair to say he’s got strong ties with Laverre City, where the clock strikes thirteen and mushrooms are everywhere. This is also where things start getting a little dark. The City of Otherworldly dreams has a lot of the signposts of a fae gateway. The town itself has a magical, storybook nature to it. The mushrooms a nod to fairy rings, and the thirteenth hour on the clock indicating the time where the fae realm and the human realm interact. Okay, so Sylveon is tied to Laverre, what of it? The important thing about Laverre, is actually what happens when you leave it. Route 15 is inhabited by Foongus, the mushroom pokemon. (Another misleading/lure pokemon.) Continuing on, you get to route 16 Mélancolie Path (melancholy path). The only place in Kalos where you can find phantump is route 16. The Kalos dex has a lot of dark entries, fitting for a game where the legendaries are forces of life and death. Phantump are lonely spirits of children who got lost in the woods and died. They call out for other children to become lost too in a bid to make friends. To simplify, to get to route 16, you go through the Laverre where realms entwine, pass through route 15 where you encounter hordes (rings) of Foogus, the mushroom pokemon, then you find route 16, full of children who have been led astray.

Fae lore often has the fairy as a trickster, a thief, a creature whose fun lies in luring mortals into his own realm. Sylveon, who loves his trainer more than anything, who evolved for his trainer, is a powerful fairy creature. If he evolves too early for his trainer to handle him, he whittles away at their control. Gently moulding their world as he dreams it. Some trainers become fairy tale trainers. Those that are too young, too impressionable, are led away. His beloved trainer won’t leave him if he can bring them to his realm. But those precious few minutes are hard to catch. The ones that don’t, wander the forests until they can go no further, succumbing to their mortality and being reborn as Phantump.

Could all of this just be a coincidence and this is just a grimdark theory in time for Halloween? Yeah, probably. (Gamefreak did give Wooper ice punch and powerup punch.) But in the words of 21 pilots, it’s fun to fantasise. (Gamefreak also did all that with Hoenn puzzles, so who knows?) Either way, stay safe and be careful who you follow into the night.

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seabass-plums · 4 years

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Let’s give it a try

Summary : Bucky has been chosen by SHEILD for a special task alongside Sam , he’s forced to desert you for quite some time once he is gone into hiding yet he seems to be having quite a few plans himself before he leaves.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader

Theme : masturbation , surfing through porn , oral sex and hardcore sex.

Masterlist

Do not repost my work , reblogs are more than welcome and appreciated.

Your heart skipped a beat as you witness Bucky walk out the bathroom doors , his sweat-glistening body perfectly mirrored itself under the lights , the yellow towel loosely tied up around his waist. You feared yet hoped for it to unravel itself , secretly wishing upon for a second round that day.

“Hey there handsome.” You smiled sleepily while tossing around under the satin sheets. Your hair was all ruffled up over the satin pillowcases , signifying the infamous bed-head.

“Morning doll.” The mist concentrated into the metal can of his deodorant beautifully fogged up the section of the room , his seductive after-shave making a trail towards your nostrils as you inhaled his scent. He has clean shaved !

The mirror situated over the dresser gave off a perfect view of Bucky as your eyes began wandering over his anatomy. His rock hard abs almost threw you over the edge until you decided to travel a bit future down , focusing on his v-line that lead it’s way to his dick that was prominent enough to take its shape under the towel.

You were bought back from your reverie whilst Bucky cleared off his throat , his eyes piercing into yours through the solid mirror that you feared may crack due to the impact of his glare.

“Eyes up top doll , you certainly don’t want to loose the feeling of your legs , I suppose ?” He smirked and leaned against the dark wood dresser , his muscles flexing hard from the clutch , showcasing his beautiful veins.

“I’m sorry , I’m just trying to make the most of it.” Your lips formed into a pout , eyes shying away from his gaze while a melancholy feel took place between the two of you.

“I know it’s going to be hard doll , but it’s my job we’re taking about.”

Bucky quickly brushed through his wet hair , sleeking it back and taking one quick glance at himself before walking over to the edge of the bed. “I’ll be back sooner than you think.” He leaned forward , capturing his lips with yours for what seemed like an innocent , little peck but you had others plans instead.

Your hands wound around his neck , pulling him deeper into the kiss while poking your tongue out the perfect amount for a sneaky tease.

“Seems like you’re not done yet.” He pulled back and lazily rested his lips onto yours , staring deeply into your eyes as his hands found your clothed breasts , toying with your-now , erect nipples through the satin sheets.

“I guess were commencing round 2 ?” You grinned , sitting upright whilst inviting him onto the bed. The satin sheets were ripped apart from your body , exposing it to the cool air that blowed out through the vents. You shivered slightly but instantly warmed up over the thought of having Bucky between your legs once again.

Bucky swiftly parted your legs open , his gaze being persistent with lust and love , darkening his azure eyes.

“Sure prinţesă , but first , I have a kink that needs to be completed.” He said , readdressing the events that took place last night.

The both of you were highly intoxicated , drunken off of each other’s bodies as you wondered what it was like explore each other’s fantasies. Amongst the metal arm , mirror and foreplay kinks , one certainly was left unattended.

“And what would that be , Sergeant ?” You simpered , knowing well enough of his prioritised kink. He loved it when you showed him some form of respect , as though he owned you in bed. He liked knowing he was determined for the causes that took place during your little fiesta.

He took in a deep breathe , “I want to see you play with yourself prinţesă.”

You felt yourself going blue , absolutely dreading the idea of having to indulge in pleasuring yourself , especially when he stood before you but that wasn’t the only reason.

“I-I don’t..” You muttered , your cheeks burned with great intensity , resulting in a scarlet shade that was clearly apparent.

“What’s wrong doll ? Did I ask for much ?” Bucky questioned , a glimmer of worry shone through his voice as he looked at you with a certain hope.

“No , not at all.” You blabber quickly. “It’s just..I haven’t really..” the rest of your sentence came off in a silent , confusing Bucky out of his mind.

“I didn’t quite get you babe.”

“I haven’t touched myself before..” You mumbled , the octave of your voice really awfully low but loud enough for Bucky to catch on to.

“Oh-” it was his turn to fade into a light shade of ruby , acknowledging the fact that he had asked a lot from you until his curiosity heightened up. “But..what are you going to do once I leave for my mission ?”

You casually shrugged over your inabilities to pleasure yourself , internally cringing over the conversation taking place.

“I don’t...know I suppose.” You whispered , your eyes stayed hidden away from his.

“Well then...let’s give it a try ?” He bit his plump , bottom lip while patiently waiting for your approval. He was certainly not the kind to usher you into things.

You were shocked out of your wits , finding it extremely hard to correlate his fixation over watching you satisfy yourself. Your mind wandered over it’s in thoughts , the sheer sweat of awkwardness surrounded your temples. For the first time in forever , you felt vulnerable.

“Press play and just relax.” Bucky whispered against your ears , his tongue slowly poked it’s way out , obtaining a low moan from you.

The black screen lit up and the infamous porn site was revealed. The home page filled with recent and new activities , yet not a single one peaked your interest , instead you dreaded over the though of surfing through porn.

“Come on doll , choose one.” Bucky prompted , his lips travelled down to your neck , peppering away soft , wet kisses.

“Nothing seems to catch my attention Buck.” You sighed , resenting the idea of having to choose a short film that was vital in stimulating your senses.

“Oh doll.” Bucky huffed , the pad of his forefinger danced over the cursor of the laptop , scanning through the different titles. “How about this one ?”

You diverted your eyes from his ripped forearm to the title of the video , ‘ Naughty girl gets punished by daddy’s huge cock.’ A shiver was sent down your spine once the buffering signal was swept away and replaced by a very naked woman thrown across the comfiest looking bed.

“Oh gosh !” You exclaimed right after hearing the roaring creek of the bed , the woman had the sheer look of pain across her face but soon realised her role and went on with it. A young male , nearly in his thirties walked up with his bare ass hanging out , your eyes widened with pure shock before retrieving away from the screen as his dick was in frame.

“Look sweetheart.” Bucky muttered , his hands pulled you against his chest , relaxing your tightened muscles with slow palming motions. “It’s going to get better , trust me.”

Your back picked up the movement of chest , heaving at the same intensity as the woman flashed her shaved cunt , her hole already leaking out it’s juices.

“Bucky , I dont know about this..” You mumbled , breaking the gaze away from the screen and looking deep into his steel blue ones.

“Why ? What’s wrong doll ? Would you like to watch another one ?” He blabbered on , a look of worry across his eyes.

You knew how much this meant to him , the whimper in his voice gave off much of it away. You didn’t want to let him down and so settled for the same old video.

The woman was now bent on all fours , the man’s dick encircled her hole before thrusting hard and deep. You squirmed above Bucky , biting your lip to contain a moan that almost slipped out. Maybe this wasn’t so bad ?

Bucky was quick with his reflexes , sliding open your legs while exposing your pussy to him. His fingers moved down to your clit and circled it in the ‘figure 8’ motion.

You relaxed under his touch , arms gripping onto his while your hips bucked up , silently begging for more friction.

He chuckled deeply , “ here , you try now.” His warm fingers left your clit and grabbed onto your wrist , bringing them over your clit while guiding your motions.

You felt the softness of your clit between your forefinger and your middle , the sloppy wetness creating an alluring music to Bucky’s ears as he nearly bursted through his pants.

His warm hands soon left yours all alone , observing your movements with precision. “Over the bud sweetheart , right here.” He guided your fingers to the correct spot as your head fell back , a loud string of moans escaping your lips.

“How does it fell ?” He muttered , his hands moved down to his pants , unbuttoning them and lowering them just enough for his thick girth to slip out , his fist was pressed up towards your back as you felt every single stroke on his dick.

“It doesn’t feel the same as when you do it.” You whined , your motions picking up as you rubbed yourself with fast circles , your hips stuttering forward with every lap while your eyes closed shut immediately.

“You’ve got to improvise once I leave doll. Think of it this way , when I get back there’s much more in store for you.” He grunted at his own filthy words that ceased its way out his lips , his strokes getting faster by every passing second.

“Ahhh Buck.” You moaned , feeling your tight cunt clench around nothing.

Bucky was quick enough to notice how close you were and so proceeded to help you with the second step , adding a finger in you.

You whimpered at the feeling of your slender fingers being coated in your cum , plunging in and out of your tight hole. Soon enough you added in a second finger , curling it up at the right inclination while hitting your g-spot that Bucky would perfectly hit with just his tip.

“Oh fuck !” You yelled out , switching your free hand over your clit while rubbing yourself vigorously. You could feel your muscles tighten in your lower abdomen , the bubbling feeling and the verge of exploding right on that couch.

“James , I’m gonna cum !” You warned him , your eyes closed shut furiously as you fell back into his chest , convulsing over the long-lasting orgasm you seem to have experienced.

Bucky picked up his pace and mimicked your movements , pumping himself harder and faster to the point where his low grunts along with the slick wetness coating his dick as he pumped it were audible. A string of profanities left his mouth as he ejaculated all over your back , the sticky substance gliding down with the sweat beads that made its way down your back.

“That...was amazing.” He grinned , holding your limp and fatigued body in his arms. “You did so good for me doll.” His rumbling voice caused goosebumps to resurface on your neck , tickling your body with ease.

“How have I never done that before ?” You tittered whilst slowly turning your head towards his and sneaky a little peck.

“We should get you cleaned up and maybe we could have a little bathroom session ?” He suggested while kissing your neck and licking over your sweet spot.

With one swing of a motion he picked you up in his arms and made his way to the bathroom , filling the tub up with lukewarm water and settling you down in it before joining you shortly after.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

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evien-stark · 4 years

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✧I Need You✧ Chapter 113

Children were amazing, you realized later that evening after returning home from a late meeting. You wished you had Harley’s aptitude for simply, straight up, ignoring his problems. Namely that he’d thrown a giant tantrum (whether or not it had become understandable), had been rude to you (again, even though you understood it), and had caused a scene. It was remarkable, really, how quickly he seemed to forget. Like it had just never happened. Because he gave you a half-hearted greeting, glued to his video games, when you came in.

Tony was making something for dinner. ...and you had to immediately stow thoughts that domestic boyfriend was a very good look on him. ...domestic… husband… did you dare?

No. Now was not the time. You were getting sucked into this life. Having a child nearby. Fighting with but sort of growing used to his presence. Teaching him. Helping him grow. Waking up in the morning for a family breakfast. Working. Coming home for a family dinner…

It was scrambling your brains. And it had to stop. But, at the same time… it was making you realize how much you may have yearned for a life. If you could even imagine such things. A normal life. A home. A family. Would you ever be able to actually have such things? A recurring question. You knew the only reason Tony was being so attentive at home, in the kitchen was because he was following Harley around and trying to maintain a schedule. If not for that, he’d probably still be in the lab. ...but that only made your ache for some normality grow.

After slipping off your heels and changing into something more comfortable, and in the middle of telling yourself to shut up about all of this, you came back into the kitchen, stealing a chopped piece of pepper from a bowl on the counter. “I think I have a plan.” Murmuring softly, as you laid your head on his shoulder.

He was in the middle of what looked like sauteing some chicken and onions. “Always good.”

“WHiH is following me around.”

“You don’t say. Must be a day that ends in Y.” Hearing the roll of his eyes just by his tone.

“They stopped, for a while, when I told Christine off. But suddenly they reappeared. Just like a little someone else who suddenly showed up.”

Setting down his spoon he cast an uneasy glance down at you. “...they saw the kid.”

To this you gave a nod. “I shouldn’t have stopped for that Stern question, that’s my fault.” Because that had to have been when it happened. You’d gotten greedy for good and petty press. And now… “But I think we can use them. ...and him.”

Turning the burner off, he turned and settled a hand on his hip. “I’m listening.”

“I think we should go public with the internship program- and its pilot initiative. We can’t charge down to Tennessee and just remove the guy from the property- especially not now that the press is picking up on who Harley is.” What a mess that would make. Too many connecting threads now. “But if we bait his dad here…”

Tony considered it, head tilting to the side. Thinking. “How can you be sure he’ll turn up?” A fantastic question, considering your idea here was to shove the kid out into the limelight whether he liked it or not. And if you couldn’t be certain his shitty father would come, it would be a waste of time. And it might have even hurt Harley.

Not the most ideal outcome. “You said the guy suddenly came back after years of being gone- coincidentally after you revamped Harley’s garage with tech- that his dad then sold. Don’t you think that greed would manifest harder if he saw Team Stark parading his kid around?”

His brows lifted and then just as quickly scrunched, lifting a hand to his chin for just a moment. “Sure. It’s a good plan- in theory. What’s your backup?”

“Taking suggestions.” Giving him just a little bit of a dead-eyed stare. You were tired and now had sort of thought yourself into a melancholy over this fake glossy family life that a deep part of you knew you’d never have.

A quiet sigh left him. “So. You don’t want the kid to know.”

To this you gave a shake of your head. “Better he doesn’t know we’re using him- even if it’s to help him.”

“So then how are you gonna get him to go along with it?”

Reaching up you laid your hand over his heart with a little pat, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t worry about that. You know me.” Smiling up at him then. “I’ve just got a way about me.”

His warm grin was charming as ever. “Always have.”

----

The following afternoon, after having picked out your dress with Pepper for Friday, you then left on your own to meet up with Tony and Harley at your usual tailored suit shop. Having it closed to the public (the part of the public that actually went in a shop like that) was probably not the smartest. It would draw eyes. But all the better to set up some prime circumstances for media intervention… and let them do the work for you.

You both were also running short on time. And he just simply could not be caught dead in a suit that he’d already worn once. He also had to match. There were rules to these engagements, after all.

Harley was sat in one of the resting chairs, playing his handheld game and occasionally sneaking cookies from the little snack tray on the coffee table in front of him, while you had Tony up on the little dressing dais. You’d settled on black flared suit slacks and that was about all. And you weren’t even decided on that, really. You had a black double-breasted suit jacket that you’d had him try on a few times now… sort of attached to it. But. Something was missing.

Black button up shirt was a must- and you were thinking now- as you tied the third bow tie, dark red was definitely the choice. It matched with the theme of a Valentine’s gala, after all- and your dress, which was really the most important thing. “This one, I think…” Giving it a little tug and then standing back, hand to your chin with your other arm crossed.

Harley groaned. “This is boring.”

Tony half turned to him, small little grin in place. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m having a blast.” He gave his freshly tied bow a little double tug on its corners and shook out the arms of his suit jacket. “Are we getting close, honey?”

Breathing out a sigh, you undid the buttons on his jacket, smoothing your hands up his stomach and to his chest- perhaps touch too suggestively… unable to help yourself. “I think we need a waistcoat… and-...” Squinting at him with a step back to try and get a full picture. When the light bulb hit you turned. “Hey, Estie-” Your tried and true adviser on all things fashion. When she looked up from the fabric rack, “I know it’s short notice- do you think we can do the inside a wine color? And get a matching waistcoat… maybe with some black silk inlays?”

After taking a moment to envision such a thing, framing her pointer and thumb on both hands, she then clapped them together. “Oh! I think that’ll look absolutely divine.” Coming over she snapped her fingers at Tony to get him to take the jacket off. “Let me do a quick mock up. Let’s see where we are.”

Once Tony shrugged himself out of it and handed it over, he took a seat next to Harley. You weren’t entirely ready to call it quits, though, so you turned your back on them to look over the fabrics they had on display. One of them would be lovingly paired with the inside of his jacket, and the other would be used for his vest. Harley was not yet done complaining, though. “What’s the point of all this, anyway? You guys have like a million clothes. I’ve seen your closet.”

While perhaps it would have been a good idea to ask why he had been inside of your closet (huge and outlandish though it was…), instead you took the opportunity where you saw it. Still searching with your back turned to them you answered, “These things are very delicate affairs. If you don’t look a certain way, papers will talk about it for months. It’s annoying. Just easier to do it right the first time and be done with it.”

“What is it- it’s some stupid dance party, right?”

Tony answered. “It is a charity gala, where the elite give up their Valentine’s day to prove that they’re good people. Cavorting with one another while spending a small fortune to help those with less fortune.”

Your smile was hidden with your back still turned. “It’s terrible. We hate these things. They’re boring.” Perhaps not so subtly mocking him.

You sensed the flicker of his attention. “So why go then?” Before you could answer he quickly rebuffed, “-to any of them- I know you said this one you’re showing off at.”

Raising a pointer finger you corrected him, “Showing up someone. Not showing off.”

Even though you weren’t looking at him, you heard Harley shift around to gesture at probably everything around him. “Right. ‘Cuz this isn’t showing off.”

Tony’s tiny breathy laughter really threatened to break you. The kid was a smartass, but he was smart. Buying out a long block of time in an impossibly expensive shop and having them do an entire suit in two days just to wear for one night… he had a point. “This all has a purpose. Before we can even get into the event, we’ll have to walk a long red carpet…”

“Wouldn’t you know it.” Tony followed up and you could hear his continued grinning. “Showing off.”

“Trust me.” Said with a sigh as you tugged a very dark shade of red off the rolling rack. “You’re lucky you don’t have to go.” Going over to Estie after making this purposefully vexed remark-

Ignoring Harley’s sudden but quiet protests to Tony as you and Estie chatted about his wardrobe. But when Harley pointedly spoke up to get your attention- “They can’t be that bad.” Trying to bait you- Not realizing you were the one doing the baiting. You put the back of your hand on your hip to give him a little annoyed look. “Worse than you could ever imagine. I assure you.”

“You guys fight monsters for a living and you can’t handle one night talking to other adults you don’t like?” Seemingly very unimpressed and underwhelmed by the two of you so suddenly. Kids thought they were so smart, didn’t they?

“Consider it handled. We’re going, aren’t we?” Waving him off almost rudely as you turned back to talk with your designer.

Feeling suddenly very annoyed that you’d dismissed him in such a way, he started barking at Tony. “She’s overreacting. I bet it’s not that bad.” Saying the same thing to him, just in case there was a chance he hadn’t heard it. Or maybe that he’d side with him.

“Count your blessings, kid. You get another night of juice filled debauchery on my couch instead.”

“Well what if I wanted to go?”

Quickly (and purposefully) turning again you gave a stern warning, “Out of the question.”

“Kid,” Tony warned him suddenly. “You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

He stood, eyeing you up. “Why can’t I? I’m already here. So what? I wanna see what’s so bad about it.” Imagining he’d get one-up on you when the event wasn’t as terrible as the dumb adults were making it out to be with their whining.

Pretending to square up with him, accepting his little staring match, and then sizing him up, you narrowed your eyes. “You really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tony reached up to tug on the back of his sweater. “Really, kid, come sit down before you regret this.”

Harley just shrugged him off. “You guys all act like the smallest things are the end of the world. It’s just a dumb party. I wanna see it.” You sensed that some of this upset was a little misdirected. But that was fine. It was working to your advantage.

Taking your time making him sweat out your waiting, still going strong as you looked at him without blinking- it took you a full minute before breaking to turn to Estie. “What do you think? Can you get something together in his size?”

She clapped her hands together. “Absolutely!” Then rounding her sewing table, she waved her hands at him. “Go go- on the dais- put your arms out-” Reaching into her apron to grab her measuring tape. “You’re going to be the handsomest little man at the ball, I guarantee it!”

Very quickly he paled. “Wait- I don’t wanna-”

Tony grinned, patting his back with a little push. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

----

The planted paparazzi on the sidewalk were easy enough for Happy to deal with as the three of you got back in the car after your much longer than anticipated fitting. Harley was pretty annoyed but luckily, his happiness that he’d talked the two dumb adults into doing a thing he didn’t really want to do was winning out. You also happened to notice, as the car was pulling away, that a WHiH reporter, the same one from Tuesday evening, had been out front taking shots- which was good. Because that’s the reason you’d posted a crowd out front in the first place.

...but come Friday evening, the fact that they had yet to put out a story about the mysterious kid that had shown up at Stark Industries and was now being chaperoned around by Team Stark made you nervous. They hadn’t accosted you on the sidewalk either, as they were known to do. They were clearly following on the story, so what were they waiting for? It wasn’t like they had any journalistic integrity. It wasn’t like they were checking sources… right? They never cared about that sort of thing before, if Christine Everhart’s methods were anything to go by.

But their station was silent. What were they doing?

Other news outlets (the shadier ones, at that) had started speculating, as you had hoped they would. But you’d really been counting on WHiH to try and blast the both of you with a story over it. To reach out to Harley’s parents for comment and set the whole scheme in motion. Without them… it was just a good thing you had a backup to the setup of plan A. Still no word on plan B, though…

“All finished.” Your stylist chirping broke you out of your thoughts, finally looking past your mental fog to see yourself in the mirror.

She’d done exactly what you’d asked her to. A soft romantic glowy look for the evening, hair done loosely, and a touch of heart and stars glitter across your eyes and temples to match the rest of your makeup. “Thanks. It’s perfect.” Reaching into your purse, gently nudging aside the Heart Reactor glowing faintly at the bottom of your bag, you retrieved a hefty tip for her. “Don’t let Tony bother you on the way out.”

Grinning, she took her extra earnings and pocketed them quickly. “Never. By the way, cute kid.”

A snort escaped you before you could help yourself. “Don’t stay long enough to hear him talk. You’ll change your mind very quickly.”

Knowing better than to ask questions, she just serviced your joke with a giggle and then excused herself to be on her way. Once the door was shut you put on your entirely too-high heels with their too-high straps criss-crossing up to the knee. Fitting of your entirely too-much dress. An off the shoulder black into red ombre flowy piece with a long slit up the side, open diamond panel exposing your back, and long puffy black-sheer sleeves with the same ombre coloring tapering down. You finished off the look with a pair of chandelier heart earrings (ones that went with the cuffs you always wore) and the most important piece…

That bejeweled heart necklace with the black metal shards lining the sides. You double and then triple checked yourself in the mirror and then grabbed your black faux fur stole and purse and headed into the living room. Though the elegant click of your heels signaled your arrival, the boys were caught up in talking about something- techy sounding- so you cleared your throat. “Are we ready to go?”

You couldn’t help but mirror the admiring going on, as Tony turned to look at you. He looked terribly handsome, as always (thanks to you, too). But it was the dopey smile that emerged on his lips, the light of his eyes, the gentle lift of his brows. He could see you dress up a million times for a million different events, but it was always like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. “Yeah-” Clearing his throat right back at you, tugging on the sleeves of his jacket. “Yes, honey. Car’s waiting.”

Stealing closer, you laid a hand on his chest and leaned up to press a soft kiss to the apple of his cheek. “Good.”

His hand came over your hip, reluctant to let you go. “You look… uh- ...fantastic. You look fantastic.” Serving the word with a click of his tongue, when he finally remembered how to speak. Like he still couldn’t quite believe his luck.

“So do you.” A little tip of your head, a pat to his chest.

It was Harley, all too familiarly giving the both of you a little nudge. “Can we go?” He was nervous, though trying bravely to bury it.

Turning to him you offered a sweet smile. “You clean up very nice. ...are we sure about the hat, though?” He was wearing a smaller version of Tony’s suit- although with a regular suit jacket instead of going with the double-breasted. He had insisted on a black fedora for the evening. Something you really wished Tony would have talked him out of.

Putting his hands on both sides of the brim he readjusted it. “Yes.” Growling just a little. “Come on. Aren’t we late?”

Tony readjusted his bow tie and then held his arm out for you, waiting until you’d slipped yours around him to speak. “First rule of invitational parties, kid. They don’t officially start until we show up.”

As the three of you walked to the elevator he huffed and then grinned up at the two of you. “I thought they didn’t know you were coming.”

“They don’t.” Tony too quickly got caught in that trap- something that had you raising your hand to hide a smile. What a pair, these two. To your sudden giggles he rolled his eyes, ushering you into the elevator. “Whose side are you on?”

You gave him another small but consolatory pat on over the heart. “Yours, dear. Of course. Always. ...but he does have a point.” Tony made no great effort to hide the fondness of his smile accompanied with the roll of his eyes. “Yeah, yeah…”

----

Just outside the venue, you took a look up the long red-carpeted stairs- and all the reporters and cameras lining the sides. Barred off, as per usual, but… these things were never easy. You just pretended they were. Tried to make everything look smooth and elegant. Tony slipped on a pair of his tinted sunglasses. Red, of course, for the occasion.

Everyone had taken very sudden notice of the Stark car that was now on the sidewalk and were subsequently getting a little crazy. Turning, you put a firm hand on Harley’s shoulder. It spooked him immediately. “We’re going to have to stop to answer a few questions. And pose for a few pictures.”

He pouted. “Do I have to talk?” Whining, just a little. Like he’d just realized what a mess he’d gotten himself into.

Tony reached into his jacket. “Let us do all the talking.” Pulling out a smaller pair of slightly more heavily tinted lenses, he handed them over. “Otherwise just follow our lead. You’ll do great.” With that quick little powwow, he signaled Happy to open the door. Once out, he held his hand for you, and you ever so gracefully let yourself out of the car. Flashbulbs were going off a million miles a minute, calls of your name were getting deafening-

But it was nothing compared to when you stepped aside and a young boy stepped out in front of the three of you. After that, the screams for attention became practically wild. You thanked Happy for the ride in before allowing Harley to take up the front- just barely. For all his courage, and he was putting on a very brave front, he seemed to want to stay very close. This was good, though. That’s what you and Tony wanted, too.

It made it easier to pose for pictures, which the three of you did. You and Tony were quite used to mugging for the camera by now. You were just grateful Harley was a little too shell-shocked by all the attention to do any actual posing. He just kept his hands in his pockets. And, you were sure, was grateful for his new pair of sunglasses.

The first designated question of the night was a breeze- “We heard reports that you two weren’t coming tonight. What changed your minds?” Something you easily answered. “A small error that we’re glad to rectify- we’re here, after all, aren’t we? We’d never pass up an opportunity to give to a good cause.”

Then of course came the usual who are you wearing. Trite. Meaningless stuff. It was one of the reporters near the front of the stairs who nudged the security ropes to test her luck. “Who have you brought with you this evening? He’s adorable! Did you two adopt while we weren’t looking??” Getting some of the other reporters to chuckle as they all listened in, microphones pointed your way.

You settled a hand on his shoulder once more. “This is Harley. A bright young mind in our new Stark Industries Internship program. We’re in our initiation phase, but things are going quite well.”

She held the microphone lower to him. “How do you feel about that, Harley? How are you doing?”

Tony waved a hand in a circle, tuning attention back up to him, which the reporter heeded quickly. “Kid’s doing great. And ecstatic as you can imagine. After a week locked up in the lab we thought we’d give him some fresh air.” The crowd laughed at his joke, as they always did. Eager to be noticed.

The reporter eyed Harley again, not taking the hint. “What do you think of the program so far? How are they treating you?”

But this time you and Tony hung back, allowing him to answer, if he wanted. Harley crossed his arms. “Everything’s good. I guess.” “Are you learning a lot? Has this been a beneficial time for you?”

“The lab exercises are fun. This is boring, though.” Trying to pretend he was above it all.

At that the crowd really did laugh, and Tony drew their attention as he tipped Harley’s hat a little too far forward. “Seems like he’s learning a little too quickly. I’ll try to avoid handing him a scotch on the rocks. Good first lesson of dinner parties, if my dad taught me anything. Stay loose.” As the crowd broke into continued laughter, you waved off the press and took Tony by the arm again, nudging Harley to finish moving up the set of stairs and into the venue.

Once inside you let one of the attendants take your stole, but purposefully held on to your purse. Not that anything at this gala needed to be paid for. But even with the, surely unnecessary, sensitive equipment inside, you didn’t want anyone else hanging on to it. As Tony slipped his glasses off and tucked them back into his inside jacket pocket, you noticed Harley mirroring him.

Some couples were already enjoying the grand ballroom floor, some were sitting at tables eating, some were boozing at the open bar. But all eyes turned to your group as soon as you officially entered. Above the music you drew Harley’s attention. “That wasn’t so bad.”

He shrugged. “I guess. What do we do now?”

Tony put his arm around your waist. “Schmooze. Drink. Order whatever food you want. There’s a kid’s table full of rich brats who will look down their noses at you, if that’s your kind of thing.”

You made a face. “Stay away from them.” Worried not only that they’d be mean to him (as all children were, especially those kinds), but worried even more that they wouldn’t. And would be just like their shitty parents. And try to get in good with him to use him.

“Like I wanna hang out with them anyway.” Sounding entirely unenthused.

Tony couldn’t seem to hold back a chuckle. “Now you’re getting the hang of it.”

Spotting Mr. Smithfield himself- and he, you, with an excellent flash of shock and nervousness, you waved to him with an overly pleasant smile. Then you handed Tony your purse and gave him a pat on the arm. “Could you get me a drink, please? And find us a table. I’ll be back.”

Harley seemed upset about the idea of your departure. “What are you doing?”

But Tony put a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the bar. “Her job. Don’t worry about her. She’s tougher than the both of us.”

“Oh.” You could hear his grin then. “She’s gonna go make him look like shit.”

Tony hung his head back with a very unimpressed look. “You teach him that?”

“It must’ve slipped out.” Giving a very innocent shrug, and letting the sound of Harley’s delighted giggles keep your conscience clear.

Halfway across the room Smithfield tried to find an exit, but you cut him off with a soft yet somehow steely grip on his arm. He turned to you, sweating. “It’s so nice to see you- I�� I was sure your assistant told me you wouldn’t be here-”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You fancied the idea of smiling at him like a shark ready to strike. “We’re happy to come, of course. Just as I’m sure you’re happy to pocket seventy percent of the donations through your off shore shell account tonight, isn’t that right?” He tried to speak but you stopped him, curling your fingers. “We saw your newsletter about us. To all your wonderful donors here tonight. Would be a shame if Stark Industries released your earnings tomorrow morning in the same way. What header did you use? It was very lovely.”

He’d gone practically white as a sheet at this point, eyes wide. Heart thumping. “A shame… it would be- that newsletter- you know- a miscommunication- sent out in error-”

“I’m sure it was.” Holding on to him with that tough grip a few seconds longer, staring him down enough to make a point before finally letting him go with a little smooth of his jacket. “Well. In that case. I’m sure the percentage variable I saw was a miscommunication too, wasn’t it? You wouldn’t dream of spending Stark Industries’ charitable funds to line your pockets, would you?”

“N-no… of course not…”

“Good. We understand each other, then.” You gave him one more smooth of his shoulders. “The venue is beautiful. You did a wonderful job. Thanks for inviting us.” One last saccharine smile and then you turned on your heel. While you expected him to dart away- which he did immediately- it was that he still carried that sense of rampant anxiety with him all the way to the kitchen door that made you slightly hesitant. Usually these sorts of encounters ended with the person on the other end feeling some relief.

And yet…

“Excuse me, miss.” Tony’s warm voice got all of your other thoughts to surrender. As you turned to him, he offered you a half glass of wine, which you took gratefully. “If you’re done menacing the host…” Grinning at you.

“All for a good cause, I assure you.” Teasingly, taking a sip after. Letting his laughter at your little joke warm you to your core. Looking over his shoulder, you arched your brow. “Where did you leave Harley?”

“Got goo-goo-eye’d by a blonde at the bar.”

“Tony.”

“I mean, once upon a time. Seems like the exact sort of thing that I’d do.” Taking a pointed sip of his drink. But your continued stare broke him and he raised a hand. “Kid’s fine. He can handle himself. And she couldn’t have been more than twenty.”

“That’s not funny, Tony.”

“I disagree, I happen to think I’m hilarious.” Leaning over he set his now empty glass on a nearby table and pushed his finger at the bottom of your glass to get you to empty yours. “Really. He’s fine. She was probably … I’m not good with kid ages. Fourteen? Why not. He needs to live a little. Learn something.”

Once your glass was finished you handed it to him and watched him dump it on the table next to his. “There’s no telling what these little gremlins will do to him.”

“Nothing he can’t handle- like I said. He’s tough. And mouthy, in case you forgot.” He put an arm around your waist, drawing you away. “Anyway. We’re here. Let’s dance, shall we?”

You allowed him to sweep you out onto the dance floor, where the sea of people parted for you as if you were royalty, as always. It was nice… to just pretend things were normal. To sway to overly romantic string music. Sliding your hands up his chest and laying your head on his shoulder as he held your hips carefully in his hands. One song bled into the next before you noticed. “How long are we staying here?”

“You’re asking me?” His voice was warm and rumbly against your ear. “You know if it were up to me we’d be gone already. I think we made enough of an impression, don’t you?”

While he did have a point… was that a good lesson to impart to Harley? Speaking of- you looked up and around, spying him sitting at a table with said young girl that Tony had let him wander off with. She was wearing his hat. And he looked very entranced. You couldn’t help a snort. “I thought all girls have cooties at that age.”

Tony followed your line of sight and smiled once he saw the little scene. “Some girls just smile at you the right way and it’s all over after that.” As you locked eyes with him, and his smile prompted your own- even more so when he leaned in, nose brushing yours. “See- like that-” Being bold with the other bodies on the floor, rewarding you with a soft kiss.

One you really would have liked to melt into. Except someone had stepped up very close to you very suddenly- someone full of that same panic. So much so that you broke from Tony with a murmur of a sound to see who it was- and then sharply inhaled when you felt something press deep into your back.

“Let’s not make any mistakes here.” The voice was decidedly not Smithfield. And, from the way Tony was gauging your new guest, he didn’t know who it was either.

He tried to turn you away. “Can I help you?”

The man stepped closer in, holding your arm to keep you from moving fully. Just enough to show off. A hot flare of anger rose from Tony, but died quickly when you shook your head. Then his eyes fell- to presumably- from the feel- the gun being shoved into your spine. “Move. Now. Don’t make this a mess.”

The two of you looked at each other, trying to figure out what the right move to make actually was. And you made the decision to step forward, so Tony fell in line. Ushered into the back kitchen- empty, not surprisingly. A few gunshots rang off in the main room and you heard a much bolder voice rise above the sudden screams. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you’d please-”

Your abductor shoved you both aside, and raised the gun- trained on you- probably in an effort to keep Tony pinned. But not a smart move no matter which way it was looked at. The both of you still put your hands up, though. You couldn’t help but start in on the sass. The man had ruined your evening, after all. “What is this? Are you guys serious right now?”

Though he was holding himself steady you still were tasting that terror. Drowning in it, almost. He was very frightened. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”

At this your head lolled back. “Are you fucking kidding me right now- how much are you paying Smithfield?” You were going to kick that man’s ass to kingdom come for his involvement in this.

In the other room you heard the direction- “Money in the bag- bleeding hearts of the world- jewelry, wallets, phones, I want it all!”

“Petty thievery, really?” Tony was just as unimpressed. “You’re hijacking a charity event to steal from the rich? Robin Hood himself better be out there or-”

He leveled the gun at Tony, “Just shut up!”

Your mind started racing. How quick could you move- how quick could you disarm him? He wasn’t standing that far away, and he didn’t seem like he was ready to take both of you on. Shame your Reactor was in your purse- and seeing as Tony didn’t have it, who knew where it was regardless, now. If he fired on Tony, at this range, it would be lethal. You had to be very sure-

The door to the kitchen opened just barely. “Time’s ticking. We’re rounding up for the speech. Bomb’ll go off in ten minutes. Hurry up back here.”

“Bomb?!” The word ejected out of you and Tony simultaneously.

“I’m almost finished!” Screeched so hard it nearly gave you a headache. The door pulled closed and his attention came back to you- thankfully- you weren’t as scared of having his gun pointed at you as you were Tony. ...Tony probably felt the same way. “Now- who goes first-”

Tony sighed. “Is this your first time? Because, honestly, my villain bingo card is just about filled up.”

“A real shame we’re missing the evil monologue in the other room. Might have gotten you all the way there.” Sassing a man with a gun pointed at both of you was probably a bad idea. But alas… how could either of you resist.

“I said shut-” About to yell again when a little noise popped off just behind you. You thought for a second that security had come to save you- but were kind of mystified to see something bounce off his arm. “What-”

But that was your open. Shifting back on one foot, you threw a half spin of momentum to stick one of your heels into his wrist with enough force to dislodge the weapon on the other side of the room. And then back on two feet, as Tony moved to grab the gun, you took a few quick steps, leading in with a punch to his gut that had him lurching forward. Which then made it easy for you to grab his arm and roll his whole weight forward in a twist to have him on his back.

Your heel was at his throat after that. “Where’s the bomb?”

He was already gurgling with the slight force you were using. “Ov- oven- it’s in the oven!” Finding a new threshold for that panic that had brought him to you.

“Tony-”

“I’m on it.”

Looking up into the doorway you saw Harley just standing there- with some sort of half visor over his eye, (...remarkably familiar, actually…) it spooked you. Just a little, with a tiny start. “Harley-!” Then, glancing down to the … toy gun?- held in his trembling hands. “What is that?”

He broke out of his daze, looking down and then shaking his head. “Why didn’t it work?”

“Over here, kid.” Tony was on his hands and knees, pulling the bottom rack out of the oven to reveal an alarmingly sized and complicated looking bomb. “You’re a messy coder, I warned you. Some of the same lines you have running on your targeting stack build the gauge on your compression load. Probably hit a cascade failure before your peanut even left the barrel.”

While you could listen to him talk like that all day, now was not the time. Laying more pressure on, you sent a steely-eyed gaze your attacker’s way. “What is this? Who do you work for?”

It was almost impressive, his will to live was keeping him smart, while he struggled to draw breath, he managed to lay still and flat on the floor, perhaps nervous that if he moved you’d end him right there. “SHIELD- we- work for SHIELD-”

You couldn’t help the dissatisfied scrunch of your face. “Bullshit.”

“No we- we were… left out in the cold- called terrorists- so we’ll show the world what real terrorists are-”

Leaning down in, you narrowed your eyes. “Stop lying to me.” Easy to sense immediately. Common sense would have told you that, though. “Your moments are numbered, so it would be a very nice time for you to feel some honesty, wouldn’t you say?”

A clouded look took over his eyes. “I- I can’t.”

“Sure you can. You feel like being honest with me. So talk. Now.”

He swallowed hard. “We’re hired hands- by a deep subsection of Hydra-”

A roll of disgust left you. “Of course you are. Un-fucking-believable.” That was really all you needed, and time was growing short. A well placed strike at the side of his temple knocked his lights clean out. After, you stood, hiking up your dress to tie it at the side. Looking over at Tony, “Can you disarm that?”

“Yeah- no problem. Probably. I just need a minute to look at it.”

Peering out the window, you saw hostages on their knees, being held ransom to a man on stage. “Where is my purse?” The silence was deafening. So much so that you couldn’t help an annoyed groan. “Alright- fine. Harley stay here. Tony I want that bomb gone.”

Harley looked over at you. “What are you gonna do?”

Tony answered for you, as he tossed the gun your way. “She’s about to save the party, kid.”

You shared an intense look with him- only a few seconds long- but one full of understanding. No words needed to be said. Activating your visor with a press of your earrings, you sidled along the back wall. “LUNA lock down all targets.”

“Scanning!” Taking a breath, using the cover of darkness to make your way closer to the action. The idiot on the main stage was going on and on and on… “Five left in the building, ma’am. Two- here-” Lighting their heat signatures up, luckily in the back. Crowd control. “Two- here-” Two manning the stage. “-and the man here.” On stage, of course.

“Okay. Thank you.” Disengaging her after. Needing the cover of that darkness to sneak up on both beefy men in the back as silently as possible. Really less than they looked. The first you took down easily with a yank to his arm and a kick to the back of his knee to send him crumbling down and a heavy whack of your gun at his temple. Once down you motioned for silence at the people who had been held at bay on their knees and pointed to the door. Go now. Go quietly. The other goon didn’t put up much of a fight, either. But he was a little more prepared- or maybe a little more skittish. When you knocked the back of his legs, his itchy trigger finger sent off a shot that had people screaming and the big boss pausing in his speech. You did the best thing you could think of, holding the beefy tool at bay with a twist of his arm and your heel in his back, you raised your gun towards the stage and fired off a shot that went straight through his thigh.

You then brought it down at the back of the other one’s head and dodged a return fire shot your way from one of the two up front. If given the chance, they’d start pulling hostages, so you knew you had to keep their eyes on you. It was why you serpentined the dance floor dodging their gunfire while other people wisely fled, ending in a forward slide that you boosted out of with your hands on the floor, spinning to knock one of the men to the ground.

Chaos became a cloak as you punched his lights out- and then subsequently were grabbed from behind, dropping your gun. Strong arms wound around you, squeezing the life out of you and almost cracking your ribs. You bent forward in a jump, throwing him off balance, and then rocked back with a smash of your head to crack against his nose. When he dropped you to your feet you served a series of one-two punches to his gut and then bent down to push up into an uppercut that knocked him clean off his feet.

Ducking down into a roll as you sensed the only other enemy in the room staggering close, you reclaimed a gun and then lifted off your crouch to stand fully- aiming it at him-

And Harley. Whose neck he had his arm around. God fucking damn it. “Drop it. Now. Or I’ll kill him.” Pressing his own gun right at Harley’s temple.

Immediately you put both hands up and away, held steady at the sides of your head. “Alright- hey- don’t do anything stupid-”

“I said drop it!”

“I heard you work for Hydra, is that right?” You felt that subtle out-of-body shift as that deeper part of you dropped somewhere below, lights blinding your second set of eyes. “Seems hilarious that they’d send you to a benefit where Team Iron was gonna be-” You broadcast just about every ounce of doubt and terror in tandem that you could muster.

It shook him- but only enough to have him suddenly jerk his gun your way. “Shut up- you don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Kinda seems like they wanted you to martyr yourselves for their cause.” Very slowly, by inches, you started creeping.

“I said shut up-”

Closer… “Don’t you feel strange- lied to?”

“They said- they said you weren’t coming- this was our only chance-”

“Come on now. Everyone knew we were coming. We had an RSVP in since December. I’m sure your boss knew that too.” Closer still, as you started to watch his foundation crumble. “But you knew that, didn’t you? You suspected Hydra was sending you here to die. Don’t you think that’s unfair? Aren’t you angry?”

His grip on Harley was loosening. “Did they- ...did they really know…?”

“Of course they knew. You’re one rat in a long line. And if you-”

You’d nearly had him. One more broadcast, one more sentence, one more anything-

But Harley struggled very suddenly, bending in to take a bite out of the man’s arm. Which caused a chain reaction. He fired on you, sending a shot straight through your arm. Harley dropped to the ground. After recoiling you rushed forward, but not in enough time as the man swerved and pointed his gun right at Harley who was on his hands and knees trying to scramble away.

Instinct took over. In a quick flash you held the gun in both hands and fired off a killing shot. No time to think of doing anything else. There were no other options.

In another quick unthinking move, you dropped to your knees, drawing Harley in and half around to block the newly dead body on the floor from his line of sight.

Energy fled in droves as you raised your free hand to grip over your arm now leaking blood. “Harley-” Not sure what you were going to say. But whatever it was, it died immediately as he practically collapsed into you. Shivering. Scared. “I’m sorry- I- I wanted to help-” Sniffles were just as easily heard as they were felt with him so close to you.

A twelve year old child- one that had bottled many things up for quite a long time now- had just had his life threatened very seriously. Had just had two guns fired right next to him. His ears were probably ringing. His heart was probably beating to burst. Breaking down was not the least bit surprising. It was why you held your arm tighter around him, wilting while you tried to hold him steady. “You’re alright. You did good.” Spying Tony, taking his suit jacket off, heading your way. “We’re alright. Right?”

Tony knelt down, putting his jacket around Harley’s shoulders, and then laying a hand over one. If he hadn’t burst into tears, you were sensing there might have been a long stern talk about not listening when there are a bunch of men with guns around- given he’d slipped away and disobeyed you. But. Seeing as how he was crying…

“We’re alright, kid.”

With Tony close enough, you side shifted to just rest your head against him. “Bomb disarmed?”

“Yeah. Terrorists all taken care of?”

“Yeah.”

Tony gave Harley a little pat on the back, drawing his attention with a tired grin. “See? Exactly what I’d call alright.” It was just enough to get Harley to try and force a brave face with a nod, but he still couldn’t hide his shaking.

The front door of the ballroom busted open with the heavy steps of New York City’s finest. Many of which were uselessly shouting, “Police!”

Both you and Tony were unable to stow your eye-rolls, but he was the one to get up. “Nothing to see here, officers. Everything’s already taken care of. Though if you’d like to look the other way on getting our paperwork done…”

You suddenly had a much longer night ahead of you than you’d planned for.

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter One Hundred Thirteen

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