#And my boi Vulture would 100% attend

[iamterra]

Happy 5th year anniversary day to Raid Area 51!

They can't stop us all!

[slytherinwh0re]

Black suits and little black dresses

Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ minors dni) and swearing

Summary: Where you and Draco attend a fancy dinner party and can’t seem to keep your eyes off each other. 

Masterlist

Suits. 

You love suits, more specifically you love your boyfriend in his signature all black fitted suits. The contrast of the dark material against his pale skin was such a striking sight it had every woman and even some men in the room turning to look. Not that you could blame them, Draco Malfoy in a suit was something you wouldn’t want to miss. 

The slytherin looked expensive. 

Handsome and rich, everything the Malfoy heir should be. The cufflinks on his dress shirt were worth more than half the people in this room. His hands were adorned with rings that could feed all of the Weasley’s for the rest of their lives, the one with his family crest truly was an eye catcher, or maybe they just love how his hands look as much as you do. 

The difference between you and them is that they’ll never know how his long fingers feel stretched across their throats. 

Everything about Draco is attractive to you, his silky hair and strong jawline would have you dropping to your knees for him in seconds but that damn suit did things to you. That’s why you’re wearing the little black dress you know drives him just as crazy, it’s no wonder you’d caught each other staring quite a few times already.

That’s how these things would always go, you’d both be forced into these fancy dinner parties, you’d have to talk to the snobby guests, and you’d barely see each other because these people are like vultures for attention. All they see when they look at either of you is rich and beautiful, the perfect candidates for a marriage contract. 

That’s why you love each other so much, you see Draco for who he is, and he see’s you for who you are. 

“You know how much I love you in that dress,” you instantly recognize his voice, the deep drawl of it makes you shiver as you turn to face him. 

“And you know how much I love this suit,” his smirk only grew bigger when he noticed the goosebumps on your skin from the light touch of his finger drawing mindless patterns on your arm.

“Why’d you think I had 10 of the same one made?”

The blonde scanned the room quickly, making sure no one was looking before dragging you into an empty corridor, and apparating you both straight to his bedroom in the manor. 

Your lips found each other’s immediately. That’s how these nights always ended, in his bedroom, or anywhere private really, while your parents try to make up excuses for your disappearances. This was the best part of the evening.

Hands were everywhere, yours in his hair and clutching his previously perfectly pressed dress shirt and his were under your dress, dragging down the panties that’ve been ruined for most the night. Everything about this was needy, you craved each other and you both knew it because no matter what you told yourselves, these parties were hard on you. The need to be perfect was lifted as soon as you were in each other’s arms.

“Draco, fuck!” He slid his fingers around your clit, rubbing slowly and with the perfect amount of pressure. You moved quickly, unbuttoning his shirt and loosening his tie. Oh how you love that tie.

He shook off the shirt but grabbed the black tie before it could fall to the ground, his fingers working you to the point where it was hard to stand. As soon as you got his belt undone he was turning you around to face his bed, the front of his body was pressed against your back, he nipped at your neck as you grinded back into him. 

“Bend over darling, I’m gonna fuck you in that pretty little dress,” Draco whispers in your ear, gently biting down on the lobe before letting go so you can do as your told. The mirror on the other side of the bed allows you to watch him as you bend over, ass in the air, and face on the mattress.

He moans at the sight, running both hands over the curve of your ass before flipping the skirt of your dress up, exposing your wet cunt to him. The slytherin looks at you through the mirror as he slowly steps out of his dress pants and boxers.

“Give me your hands,” once again you do as your told, watching in fascination as he takes the tie he had hanging around his neck and uses it to tie your wrist together behind your back, God you fucking love that tie “you look so pretty like this, all tied up and ready for me.”

“Draco, please,” you beg. That sexy smirk is back on his face, loving how desperate you are to feel him as you grind yourself against him, begging him to fuck you.

He takes his time teasing your entrance, sliding through your wet folds before dipping the tip of his cock into you only to pull back out and slap your ass. You’re a mess at this point, the boy has you begging but your pleas only seem to egg him on, when you try burying your face into the mattress his fingers grab your hair, forcing you to watch what he’s doing to you.

“If you look away I won’t let you finish, be a good girl for me darling,” you nod your head vigorously, following his eyes as he slides into you. He starts out slow, his thrusts deep, pulling all the way out before pushing back in.

The first moan of his name with his cock in you has him picking up the pace, one hands slapping your ass and the other’s holding your tied wrists as you push yourself back onto him, the desire you feel for him needing to be sated. You don’t let your eyes leaves Draco’s face, the pleasure etched on it makes you clench around him.

“So fucking tight.”

“Faster Draco! I need it faster, please!”

He goes faster, your skin slaps together with every deep thrust of his hips, your name leaving his mouth. When his hand pushes down on your lower back you know you won’t last much longer, the angle makes you scream and he’s telling you how sexy you look.

“Cum on my cock, let me see your pretty face when you cum darling.” His hand reaches around, rubbing your clit and the other hold your wrists as you look at each other through the mirror.

Your legs shake as you clamp around him, feeling your body tremble as he keeps wrecking you, searching for his own high. Your ears are ringing and you watch him tense behind you before he spills into you leaving both of you satisfied for the night.

He unties your wrists before turning you around to leave sweet kisses on your lips and whispering words of admiration in your ear.

“You know those parties aren’t too bad when I have this to look forward to.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

*

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[ithinkthingsaboutstuff]

Tip of the Iceberg

Did this for the Arkham Garlley Zine which is free to download here

or check them out at @arkhamgalleryzine 

Oswald is preparing for a bi-annual auction at the iceberg lounge and is inconvenienced by the thrills and spills that gotham has to offer and is own mind. For a man who has control over everything, he has more under the surface. 

By H.T.Vitols

Gotham is rather unique, in that most places with rotting infrastructure and corrupted governments don’t tend to lean so hard into that aesthetic, usually places like that tend to keep up a facade as to hide its own putrefaction, in a half-hearted attempt to delude anyone who comes across them that there are civilized. Gotham has never hidden how ugly it is, to a point that its almost beautiful in an ostentatious sort of way. Not to say that there is nothing alluring about Gotham, quite the opposite. Gotham has a way of claiming the hearts of many, sometimes literally, but the lost and forgotten can always find a home in Gotham, their still lost and forgotten but so is the city itself.          

The Iceberg Lounge was the closest thing to elegant that Gotham had to offer. The outside was, and forgive the prosaism, Gothic. The doors where lined with white heavy steel and where shaped like umbrellas, if umbrellas were sharp, metallic and had an ominous amount of cleaning done. The doors themselves were wooden, polished and painted indigo blue. The doors were about 4 feet wide and were as strong as enforced steel which coincidentally was inside it, you could drive a car into it, and you would need a new car and a paint job for the door. The top of the door frame which was about 6 to 8 feet upward had a blue and white neon sign that spelled out the name of the club and blue lights that moved around the top of the roof, signalling, daring anyone to enter making an announcement to the police, the city and the Batman, I’m right here come and get me, if you can.

The inside of the lounge was far larger than the outside could have prepared anyone for, the ceilings were high, the main floor was laid out like a ballroom, with blue, purple and white lights slowly dancing across the floor as if they were patrolling lights, that most if not all the patrons were far to used to. The centre of the main room had as the name of the club suggests an Iceberg, it was a rather fitting piece of  décor and not just because of the predilection, but also what could be a more apt metaphor for the men and women who dwell here, then a clandestine place that has a chilling and unstable piece at its core and the magnitude of how vacillating it truly is, is hidden under the surface.

There were purple curtains that lined all the walls of The Iceberg Lounge, what was behind them was anyone’s guess, a room, a door, an alarm, a wall, a way out, a way in, who’s to say. The Iceberg Lounge is home to many in Gotham, the bad, the slimy and the straight up crazy. It is a place to go and to hide, from whatever animal themed hero is on your ass that week. The Lounge is a strong hold and a neutral ground to any who enters.

No fights, No guns, No deaths.

These rules were enforced to the highest measure, not out of any moral obligation but simply to make things easier for business, after all, people are more willing to meet and make deals with you if they know within a reasonable assumption they are not going to be shot. This peace of mind comes with a small price though, any deal made in the lounge has a fee to go with it.

Negotiations: $100 (per person)

Trade-offs: $200

Drug deals: $400

Gun sales (unloaded): $1000 (per every 10)

If you were caught trying to make a deal in the Lounge without permission, well let’s just say no one ever does it twice. This level of meticulous control was possible due to the work and obsessions of one Oswald Cobblepot. The man thought rather highly of himself, more so then he should, which is easy to do when you are barely above most door handles and wider than some doorframes. Not to say he did not have class or rather his own definition of class, hand tailored suits all with tails, the most beautiful fabrics and of course a shining monocle that never left his face. And today Oswald donned an indigo blue jacket that had black fathers around his neck so today he looked more vulture then penguin. And in a place where a man with a rodent facade is more productive and less corruptible then the police department and the mayor’s office combined, being larger than life is not only common but a necessity. Oswald had many enemies, in fact if you weren't his enemy, he was less likely to trust you. Having enemies was more repute then having friends as he liked knowing what people wanted from him, it was easier to control the situation and easier to turn the situation in whatever suited him best.

Today, much like many other days, Oswald was in his office at his desk with a small glass of fine port wine at his side. Unlike many other days, he has not allowed anyone to disturb him (other than for an unexpected rodent infiltration). He wrote with a quill tip pen; the pen was white with a black line that matched up with a black swan feather that was connected by a small metal penguin pendent. He did not write with this pen often, as it was as impractical as it was beautiful. He only ever used this pen for one reason. 

To my dearest, Penelope.

I write to you in good health, my dear I have been having a quite the week, however, I will not plague you with the details as I fear your heart or indeed your stomach may not be able to take them. However, my dear, what I can tell you is that today is a big night for the Lounge, for it is the Biannual Bat Bunker party. I do not believe I have told you the full story behind this party and that will be a story for another letter, but simply my dear, some years ago there was an incident, that lead to certain events, that lead to a great number of my associates to take refuge in my lounge, and since then it has become so what of a tradition for a rather long party to take place here twice a year.

The party is to be quite the sceptical and I do believe you would enjoy yourself, but I would not be much of a father if I allowed you to attend such a thing with the calibre of characters that indent to come. But any money is good money if you understand the price.  Speaking of, Edward Nygma will be stopping by at some point before the party, I have mentioned him to you before, and as much as he can annoy me I can’t help but enjoy our conversations, for it is one of the rare times that learned discord is actually of value, though I could do without more of his foible, idiosyncrasy's.

As Oswald wrote at his desk, the door opened silently and a man walked in and slowly made his way to the desk, the man than sat on Oswald's desk and crossed his legs like he was a femme fatale from a noir film. 

‘Oswald, how are you, you old bird, you.’

‘Edward, you better have a very good reason for disturbing me. Who let you in here?’

‘You’re working under the assumption that I would ask.’

‘Good point, but you also know my tolerances for your antics only goes so far.’

‘True, but since I’m still alive, safe to say I have not irritated you too much your lordship,’   

‘Sarcasm is beneath you Edward.’

‘To hell it is, it’s one of my best survival instincts and I’ll have you know Oswald, the only things beneath me are invalids, the wilfully ignorant and my silk sheets when I lie my weary head to bed for most earnest of rests.’  

‘Why don’t you put your vanity to bed for a moment Edward, and tell me, why exactly you have disturbed me.’  

Edward clapped his hands together, his leather gloves gathering as he did.

‘Well, Oswald, I have come baring gifts, for our little shindig tonight,’

Edward pulled out a note from his pocket. 

‘Here,’ 

‘What is this, Edward,’ 

‘A list of inventories, from all of our friends, the supplies and donations they will be making this evening.’

‘Well thank you Edward, but you could have had some else send this up to me.’

‘Oswald, I’m a praise whore and you know it.’

‘Yes, I’m aware of that, but that is no reason to interrupt me.’

‘Oh, come now, I came all the way out here to do you a favour and I’m treated with such hostility.’

‘Edward, my boy, you are very much aware that this is me, not being hostile, but if you would like to see it, then by all means, continue.’

Edward then slid off the desk and adjusted his jacket.

‘Very well, I will prepare myself for tonight's debauchery elsewhere.’

Edward went to the door.

‘Oswald,’

‘Yes, Edward.’

‘In all the years we’ve know one another, I have only seen you use that pen for one propose and yet I have never seen you read a letter in return,’

‘Your point, Edward.’ 

‘No point, just observation, I just don’t know why you still bother, if she’s never written back.’

‘Get… out… Edward.’

‘Alright, alright, I’m gone, give her my best.’

Oswald throws his glass of port at Edward as the door closed behind him, missing his head and shattering on the door. The wine dripped down the door slowly leaving a trail of red residue, like other red fluids that have dripped down this very door and will no doubt do again in the near future. Oswald leaned back into his chair and picked up his white and black pen.

Penelope dear, I sometimes envy that you have never meet any of my associates, Edward is one of the most insufferable men I have ever meet, and I have discussed politics with the mayor of Gotham. Not to say I don’t respect the man, in fact Edward’s capacity to anger anyone he comes into contact with has never failed to impress me. But charm and showmanship can be mutually exclusive my dear, as I know all too well.

Are you happy where you are dear?

I have found I can be content, but I have also found happiness is not on the cards for me without you here, Penelope.

In any case, I have been keeping myself busy. The list Edward handed me some moments ago will help with tonight’s proceedings, you see dear, the list is inventory being put up for auction. Now you must be wondering why this is of any importance, after all you are a clever girl and the Lounge has an auction monthly. This auction is a special one, you see unlike the usual fanfare that comes through here. This list has items that are more exclusive and the most sorted after then any other in the city, such as some of Doctor Cranes Fear Toxin, a rather deadly pair of hydrangea’s curtesy of Doctor Isley and Edward has donated one of his masterplans that contain everything from blueprints of the job, to the riddles to leave.

Now my shrewd child, you must be asking why we are doing this, the answer is the reason any of us do anything in Gotham, entertainment, profit, and to cause chaotic shenanigans , but most importantly nothing brings us all together more than trying to one up the Bat and his Birds. You see my dear, these items are sold at these times as to have a level of mutually assured destruction. You see, by having these items you can set someone up at your own discretion, I for one like to know the cards others are holding.  But it is mostly used to throw The Batman off the trail. The Batman won’t investigate my shipping lists if fear toxin is in the air.  

Truly mad, is it not.

Oswald continued to write as there was a knock on his door.

‘What.’

A man slowly moved his head into the room leaving the rest of his body outside. He was trying his hardest not to look at red liquid that is at his feet, as he wanted to maintain some level of ignorance in his line of work.

‘Mr Cobblepot.’

The man paused and waited; Oswald tapped his pen down hard on the table making the man in the frame flinch.

‘Yes, well, spit it out lad, I don’t have all day.’

The man’s voice jumped as he found the words.

‘Mr Wayne is here, sir.’

Oswald slowly put down his pen, he lifted himself out of his chair and moved behind it to push it into desk. Mr Wayne did not often frequent the Lounge but when he did it was a sign of fortune if it was good or bad was up to Mr Wayne’s mood, but what can you expect from a man who could buy up all the city if the whim ever hit him. Mr Wayne and his horde of children were almost as annoying as the Batman and his Birds. Oswald made his way downstairs to the main floor where Mr Wayne was leaning on the bar talking to one of the female bartenders.

‘Mr Wayne, to what to I owe the pleasure.’

‘Cobblepot, I have come to see you about tonight’s auction.’

‘Mr Wayne, I fear the guest list is full for this evening.’

‘I’m sure you can make an exception.’

‘Now, Mr Wayne, I am sure that you are used to that being the case, but I am afraid I am going to have to use an unfamiliar phrase to you, No.’

‘Well now I have to be there. Is there anything I can do to change your mind?’

‘I assure you, there is nothing you could say or do to change my mind, Mr Wayne.’

‘Nothing?’

‘Nothing, you would be willing to do, Mr Wayne.’

‘Such as?’

Oswald paused before slowly letting out a coy smile.

‘As amusing as your antics are Mr Wayne, I am going to have to ask you to leave, as I am preparing for tonight’s festivities. So, I bid you adieu and if you wish to join next month’s auction then you are most welcome, provided you make the proper arrangements.’

For the first time since the younger man came in, he dropped his smirk as though a mask had trickled away, but the man put it back as quickly as it went, making Oswald question if he saw anything at all.

‘Yes, of course, then I will be seeing you Cobblepot.’

‘Yes, a good evening to you Mr Wayne,’

Oswald waved three men over to them, 

‘Will you gentlemen escort Mr Wayne off the premises.’ 

As the two of men walked Mr Wayne out of the club, he held on of them back. 

‘Make sure he stays out, the last thing I need tonight is Gotham’s golden boy finding something he shouldn’t, I don’t want the hassle of killing him. The body disposal alone would be a logistical nightmare.’ 

Oswald then set the man after them, Oswald made his way to the centre of the room and put his hands on the railing to look at the icy mountain that floated in the frozen water. The lounge was being set up for the auction, people moving around him as quickly as possible, as Oswald stood still looking at the ice mountain that was swaying in the water. The ice was towering and the cold from it could be felt all throughout the lounge. Oswald looked harder at the chilling structure; he saw a small steady stream of water was trickling down the ice. Oswald’s mind floated elsewhere, think how something with such presences and intimidating high could be melting away slowly and unnoticed by all around it.

‘As much as I have always liked this glorified monument to your ego, it’s always come off a little more …. Subzero, then was intended don’t you think?’

Oswald jumped, snapping his head around, and snarled.

‘Edward, I swear. If you ever do that again I will throw you into the water and I will make sure everyone here watches you, as you’re drowning.’

Edward gently twirls the green drink in his hand and takes a light sip, he then leans his back on the railing and faces Oswald. Edward lingered on Oswald, his face void of any hostility, silently staring at Oswald waiting for a reply but Oswald just turns his head back to the ice in front of him, his hands gripping the railing tighter.

‘Rough day, Oswald.’

‘It’s going to be a long night.’

‘Oswald this is Gotham, every night is a long night.’

‘Edward, leave me be.’

‘Heavy is the head that wears the crown, are you looking upon your kingdom and weeping, old friend.’

Edward took a long slow sip of his drink.

‘Oh, how very apropos of you Edward, and what is it exactly that I have to weep about.’

‘Oh, who knows, Oswald, you have never once been satisfied with anything.’

‘Perhaps not.’

‘Oh, perhaps, perhaps, is that what you are going with, ok I’ll play, Oswald you have more money, territory and respect then you have ever had, and yet here you are gazing like Gatsby. So, riddle me this Oswald, a turn of phrase, to be sage and yet mindless, what is at its lowest when it’s on top, and how can less be learned and more be dim-witted?’

‘Edward, I don’t, I can’t, do this today, I have not the strength nor the temperament.’

‘My, my, Oswald, I dare say we are dangerously close to having a heart to heart.’

‘Please Edward, don’t insult me.’

‘Yes, your right, we would actually have to have hearts for that.’

‘My boy, you have no idea how badly I wish that to be true.’

‘Tut-tut, we can’t let the other degenerates know such unsightly things about us.’

‘Yes, I suppose it would be quite a blow to the reputation.’

‘Indeed.’

Edward took one last sip of his drink.

‘…Have you figured it out yet?’

‘Edward.’

‘Alright, fine I’ll drop it…. for now.’

Oswald loosened his grip on the railing and looked at Edward.

‘My boy, I believe there is still work to be done.’

‘Indeed.’ 

Night fell and crowds grew as the auction came closer. Item after item was moved into the lounge, the air was filled with cigarette smoke, gunpower and opportunity. The items were counted by a heavily motivated Mr Wesker as Mr Scarface watched him from a nearby shelf. The auction could now get under way, Oswald was by no means a showman that was one of Edward’s games, but he was at times diplomatically inclined. Oswald went to the stage and tapped the microphone.

‘Good evening, lady’s, gentlemen and twisted creations of the night,’

Oswald raised his glass gesturing to Killer Croc and Man-bat.

‘Right, now, we all know the rules, but for those of us who need to be reminded.’

He tuned his gaze to Harley Quinn, who was at the bar drinking three different cocktails through three curly straws all at once.

‘One item per customer, so choose wisely. You may inspect the product, but it cannot be opened in the Lounge. And most importantly this a silent auction, so do not go around boasting and giving away the tonight’s secrets, so in short keep your mouths shut.’

Oswald looked over to the side of the stage where Edward was standing. Edward then put his hand over his chest like a Victorian woman who just saw something unseelie.

‘Now ladies and gentlemen and others, to tie you over while the auction is underway, I give Edward Nygma,’

The crowd collectively groaned.

‘Now, now, I promise this is only his musical stylings.’

The crowd mumbled in agreement, as Edward walked on stage.

‘Oh, gee, thank you everyone, for that dazzling display of comradery.’

‘Sing, Nygma or get off.’

Growled Harvey,  

‘Wooo, Eddie. Take it off.’

Harley cheered.

‘Give 'em the hook.’

Yelled Crane.

‘I am going to ignore that Johnathan. Now without further ado, Duke Ellington’s It don't mean a thing hit it boys.’

The band started to play. The patrons started to put their names in for items, Harvey pulled himself from one side of the room to the other, well it seems Harvey and Harv were having a disagreement on what to buy as his ashy left hand kept slapping is right whenever he tried to write anything down though oddly enough there was no coin in sight. Jonathan was sitting off to the side letting his slender frame trail up the wall, his head down letting his glasses slide down his nose. As laughter and small talk flooded the room. A loud crash came from the roof, when the Batman comes knocking it’s never on the door.  

Now what is that old saying about glass ceilings.

            The Batman comes bursting through the roof, the patrons scattered to the wind like glass being through onto the concrete. The Batman grabbed Jervis by the back of his collar and Edward was still on the stage.

           ‘Well now, we have a Bat in our belfry.’

           As Batman pushed Two-Face down, still holding on to Jervis, Two-Face pushed Batman onto the bar counter.  

           ‘Oh, you who Bat’s.’

           Harley had grabbed poured alcohol all over the bar and lit it on fire.

           ‘Oh, and it is getting a little hot in here for the dark knight.’

           Edward said calling into the microphone. A glass bottle flow in his direction and he ducked to avoid it.

           ‘Shut up, Ed.’

           ‘Make me Crane.’

           ‘Fine.’

           Jonathan yelled as he throws another glass. Oswald then runs on stage pulling the microphone out of Edwards hands.

           ‘Enough! All of you, Enough.’

           The room settled under Oswald’s voice, Batman still holding onto Jarvis.

           ‘Now, I dare say Batman, that you have made it abundantly clear, that you want something or rather someone form here this evening. Yes?’

           The room was silent, flames still burning on the counter dancing on top of the alcohol.

           ‘Yes. Now, why don’t you take Mr Tetch and leave post haste, before I change my mind and burn this place down along with everyone in it, myself!’

           The last words died in is throat from the screaming. Batman looked around the room he took a moment and then silently started dragged Jervis by the scruff of his neck, taking him out of the club as Jervis begged and pleaded to everyone in the room as he was struggling but all of them were still looking at Oswald on stage none of them moving.

Oswald then screamed at the room again.

‘Get out! Auction over, out now, all of you, out. Be gone, go back to whatever place has the misfortune of having you as a resident.’

Not ones to out their welcome, the room began to clear. Oswald headed back to his office, he shut the blinds and sat in darkness, he pulled out his pen once again.  

Well my dear, today had just about everything, thrills, spills and arson. Not that I am ever sure what these nights will ever bring. I am only ever sure of what that they will never bring, and that is you, Penelope.

I have done monstrous things my dear, I have robbed, killed and betrayed many men. I have seen vigilantes rise and the old ways of Gotham fall. I have built all that I am on the bones and ashes of other men and yet the only regret I have is and always will be that I never got to see you grow. That for all my transgressions and all the immoral measures I have taken in my life, the blood that was spilled for all of it, was yours. Even though I have buried the ones who are responsible and entombed them so deep into the earth that their own souls can’t find a way out.

But the emptiness I feel by your absents is one I can not fill, no matter how much luxury, power or control I obtain.

Truly, Penelope, my love, my sweet Penny, there is only one thing that could appease that void and that would be for me to hold you in my arms again and to tell you that,

           The door swung open.

           ‘Well that was a disaster.’

           ‘Get out, Edward’

           ‘It’s a big mess out there, and you through a fit on that stage, mind you that’s not unordinary behaviour for you or any of us. But there seemed to be a little more to it this time as compared to your usual screaming fits of rage.’

           ‘Edward, I swear, if you don’t leave right now, I’ll.’

           ‘Kill me? Please Oswald, empty threats are unbecoming.’

           Oswald the reached into his coat and pulled out a gun.

           ‘Are you sure about that.’

           Edward flicked up his hands with a light flourish and spoke dryly.

           ‘Oh, no, I have been bamboozled, please sir, leave me with my shillings and silk robes.’

           Oswald cocked the gun back.  

           ‘Edward, out, now.’

           Edward leered at Oswald with his hands lowering to his sides.

           ‘You really mean it this time don’t you.’    

           Edward said steadily.

           ‘What gave it away, dear boy.’

           ‘Oswald whatever is happening, you need to keep a level head, lest it be chopped off.’

           ‘Edward, I am going to tell you one, last, time, get, out.’

           ‘Oswald,’

           Oswald’s hand was starting to shake rattling the gun. Edward then slowly moved to go out the door and looked out to club’s centre piece.

           ‘Our love for the dead, like a floating iceberg, can only be measured by the depths of our resentments.’

           ‘Rosario Ferre.’

           ‘Rosario Ferre. Just something to think about, Good night Oswald.’

           When Edward closed the door, Oswald still held the gun in his shaking hands. After a few shuddered minutes Oswald placed on the table. He picked up the pen once again.

Penny, my dear child, you were taken from me to soon, you shined so brightly you could block out the sun. and even now after all these years I think of you always.

           And perhaps Edward has made a point, though he has done so in a way that made me want to shoot him. My love for you has fuelled my fury, my culpability and solidified my wrath over these long years without you. So even in death you are my hidden strength. Sleep well my child and know that I have not forgotten you. For you are forever a part of me and  as long as I am etched  into the walls of this city, where my name is held in respect and the city’s life blood flows through me, you will live in its bones with me,

until my bones rest next to yours.

Happy Birthday my dear, With all my love,

Your father.

Oswald then put the letter in an envelope and signed it, he then closed it and went into the ballroom, it was empty, a mess, and small ambers still danced on the bar counter. Oswald made his way slowly to the iceberg, he moved around the ice mountain until he reached a platform that lead out and was attached to the iceberg, Oswald walked onto the platform until his noise felt the frost from the monument. Oswald then placed his hands on the ice, moving down to a small block that had been carved out and he removed it and then he put the block at his feet, the hole in front to him was no bigger then a sheet of paper. Oswald then held the letter in his hands. Moments stretched out into hours in Oswald’s mind, he then reached out and put the letter into the hole, it landed onto a pile of older frozen, frosted over and twisted together letters. The frozen graveyard has received another body. Oswald them puts the block back into place, he then adjusts his coat and walks off the platform.

For the morning is upon him and light is on its way, so it is time for Gotham to lay itself to rest. As everything worth doing in Gotham is done in the darkness and hidden below the surface.          

Oswald the put the letter in an envelope and signed it, he then closed it and went into the ballroom. Oswald then made his way slowly to the iceberg, he moved around the ice mountain until he reached a platform that lead out and was attached to the iceberg, Oswald walked onto the platform until his noise felt the frost from the monument. Oswald then placed his hands on the ice, moving it down to a small

 The end  

[spideycentral]

Tony Revolori on Letting Go in the Audition Room, ‘Spider-Man: Homecoming,’ + Wes Anderson

When Tony Revolori’s father, Mario Quinonez, was a 14-year-old in Guatemala, he received his first pair of shoes. When Revolori was 15, he became the first person in his family to visit Europe, at the invitation of Wes Anderson, to audition for a film that eventually won four Academy Awards.

The opportunity was the fulfillment of a dream his father had initially had for himself, though he never advanced beyond working as an extra after immigrating to America. “He was too shy to actually be on camera and say lines,” Revolori explains while sitting in the Beekman Hotel’s Fowler & Wells restaurant in mid-May. But once Quinonez became a father, acting seemed a good way for Tony and his older son, Mario Revolori (they use their paternal grandmother’s name professionally), to start saving for college. “ ‘I would love for you guys to be actors, but I would never force that upon you,’ ” Revolori remembers his dad saying.

It was two years before Revolori’s trip to meet Anderson that his dad sat him and Mario down to ask, “What is it that you love?” The boys chose acting and music. (Revolori also sings and plays four instruments.) “He was like, ‘Great. Well, that’s your 9-to-5 job now,’ ” Revolori recalls. From then on, the family drove the 60-mile round trip from Anaheim, California, to Los Angeles “more than seven times a week for auditions,” with the duo “getting rejected a thousand times a year.”

Then they auditioned for an untitled Wes Anderson project. The director considered tapes of thousands of kids from numerous countries for the role of Zero, the teenage lobby boy who engineers the prison escape of his concierge mentor (Ralph Fiennes), kills his would-be killer (Willem Dafoe), and inherits the Grand Budapest Hotel. Two possibilities emerged—Mario and Tony—before Anderson sent the latter a plane ticket.

As an unaccompanied minor, he remembers, “I stayed there for 17 hours while the flight there was 14 hours, both ways.” He returned to the States without the part. Instead, Revolori and Anderson exchanged many emails. “I would tape myself doing the whole entire script,” he says. “It was basically pseudo-rehearsal,” and he began to think of Anderson “very much like a godfather to me in terms of acting.” Four months later, he got the offer for the film that would lead the young talent not only to the 2015 Oscars, but to “Dope,” the Sundance Film Festival hit that was so well attended, James Franco “couldn’t get a seat” and stood in the back for one screening.

The Rick Famuyiwa film about sweet, high-achieving ’90s-lovers out of Inglewood, California, who find themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time launched a studio bidding war and was nominated for the festival’s Grand Jury Prize. Casting director Kim Coleman had Revolori try out before anyone else, but in total, he “auditioned for the project maybe 20 times,” he says, reading with different potential co-stars. Once again, at the very end, he was pitted against his brother. This would happen a third time, for a recurring role on the combination live-action-animated series “Son of Zorn,” which was canceled in May after one season on Fox. “That was the one time my brother audibly said, ‘I fucking hate you. This is bullshit. It’s unfair,’ ” admits Revolori. “I was like, ‘It 100 percent is, but I’m going to take the part.’ ”

Last year, around the time he was filming his latest project, “Spider-Man: Homecoming” (out July 7), Revolori had an epiphany. “When you walk into an audition room, and you go in with such desperation that you want this, they smell it and they’re like, ‘Nope, immediately no,’ ” he says. “The thing that happened that pushed me over the edge was auditioning with a couple of people, and then them saying, ‘Oh, no, we’re not going to cast you because you’re brown.’ So I said, ‘Fuck this,’ and the next audition I went to, I didn’t give a shit.” He booked that job. Now, he sometimes cold-reads on purpose. “When you don’t need [the part], they want you so much more,” he explains, especially if you “mix that in with confidence, not arrogance.” Since relaying this discovery to Mario, Revolori says, “he’s been booking nonstop.”

“Spider-Man: Homecoming” will bring together a cadre of Marvel heavy hitters, including Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.), Captain America (Chris Evans), and Vulture (Michael Keaton). Revolori auditioned to play the best friend to Peter Parker (Tom Holland), Ned Leeds, but was awarded a larger role in Flash Thompson, Parker’s high school rival who eventually becomes Agent Venom. The casting marks the 21-year-old’s first unlikable character.

Without being asked, Revolori says he gained 55 pounds of muscle to play Thompson, who’d been reconceptualized for this film as a rich kid rather than a jock. Still, he reasoned, “I’m not white, I’m not blond [with] blue eyes”—as the character was in the comics—“but I’m me, and I’m going to do my best to emulate that character for you guys, because this is who it’s for.”

Until he joined the Spider-Man franchise, Revolori says, “I’d never been in a place where it takes you two hours for four takes of a scene, just because they have all the stunts.... I felt like I couldn’t get in a rhythm.” On the plus side, “They can afford to be a little bit more lenient and say, ‘Well, what if we try this? We can change this scene completely.’ ” The same can’t be said for indies. “It’s a lot different,” he says. “You work on something like ‘Dope,’ you drive yourself to set, [work with] a very small crew, and you’re all just working day and night as hard as you can, there are no breaks…. You’re on your feet and you’re moving—’cause you have to be.”

On this new role in “Spider-Man,” he says, “I feel like that’s a better move for my career. I want to be respected by my peers and be a prestige actor.” That’s not to say he wants to remain solely in front of the camera; he also wants to direct one day, as well as stay active in the theater. (In February, he made his West End debut in Stephen Karam’s play “Speech and Debate,” about a teacher-student sex scandal.) “I also don’t mind doing superhero movies and what makes kids smile,” he says.

Despite his many illustrious collaborators, Revolori’s most valued piece of industry advice comes from someone he met only once. His mother works at a restaurant in Studio City, and around the time he and Mario told their dad that their passion was acting, she called home to alert them that Dick Smothers—half of the legendary comedy duo the Smothers Brothers—was there having breakfast with his wife. Thanks to YouTube, “I was a huge fan,” says Revolori, so he and Mario dashed over.

“We walk up to him and we shake his hand and we talk to him, and it’s amazing!” Revolori gushes. When they informed him that they were budding actors, Smothers (who once gave a 22-year-old Steve Martin a job) said, “ ‘You guys remind me a lot of me and my brother [Tom],’ ” and proffered this bit of wisdom, made especially poignant by the fact that Smothers later declared bankruptcy: “ ‘Treat everyone like they’re the most important person in the world. Because guess what? Tomorrow they might be. Yesterday they might have been. Today they will be.’ ” As an early teen, Revolori says he replied, “ ‘Great, yeah, yay, woohoo, thank you!’ But as an adult, I understand that so much more now. And so that’s what I’ve tried to carry with myself as much as possible.”