#and him having to sneak out so lewis wouldn’t spot him? what the HELL is going on there

[valyrfia]

just heard the “focus george focus” audio and I think I would actually hand over my entire life’s savings in order to know the true nature of toto wolff and george russell’s relationship

[heybeybey]

Kismet

Braindumped this yesterday so now you have this fic.

Thanks to @sleeperswakewriting and @anya-grace. They didn't really push me to write this. It's more like 2 people liked the idea and I'm weak for Rivetra so here you go.

Still dedicating this to the two of you for supporting my need for lolo (grandpa) levi + roller skating petra!! 🖤🧡

Pairing: Rivetra | Levi x Petra

Genre: Fluffy romance!!! Tooth-rotting fluff so sweet that I'm gonna write heartbreaking angst next to balance things out.

Summary: The ginger-haired waitress skates over to him, her pink skirt a flurry behind her. She stops beside his table and gives him a disarming smile. "Welcome to Kismet Diner! What will you be having today, sir?"

Okay, so this diner wasn't a shitty choice after all.

Or: 50s Diner Waitress! Petra x Retired Soldier! Levi Modern AU

[Also, if you wanna listen to the songs Levi was forced to listen to in this fic, here's the playlist.]

--

Sweeter than candy on a stick Huckleberry, cherry or lime If you had a choice he'd be your pick But lollipop is mine

If he's going to listen to another most-likely-already-dead-woman belt out a cheery love song, Levi's sure he's going to finally pop a vein. He grumbles as the next track plays, grateful that this one is more on the mellow side so he can actually focus on his work.

Old school music on loop aside, Kismet Diner is actually pretty decent. They serve good food for an establishment that he thinks is trying way too hard to be a blast-from-the-past monstrosity.

Levi found the place by accident when he was out trying to find a place to work. He didn't feel like spending another evening inside his apartment and thought a change in scenery might help him decompress his mind.

Fucking codes just won't write itself, he thinks.

After wheeling himself around his new neighbourhood for a while, he found that this diner was the only thing open. Having no other choice, he found a spot for himself and settled in with his laptop.

He didn't expect that he'll be returning every night though.

(And that he'd be willing to listen to these cheesy retro love songs every time.)

From behind his laptop, he sneaks another glance at the bubbly server.

He distinctly remembers his first night here. A ginger-haired waitress skated over to him, her pink skirt a flurry behind her, as he settles in his chosen seat. She stopped beside his table and gave him a disarming smile. "Welcome to Kismet Diner! What will you be having today, sir?"

Okay, so this diner wasn't a shitty choice after all, he recalls thinking at that time.

It took him a moment or two to finally answer her and she diligently noted down his order. She flashed him one last smile after she promised that she'll bring his food over in five minutes.

He spent those five minutes feeling like a real creep because his eyes never left her.

It's been a few days since then and he watches her now as she picks up the leftovers from the table in front of his. She wishes a customer goodbye, and skates back to the counter.

"Petra! Think you can extend your shift a little bit? Rico called in sick," a voice from the counter calls out.

"Sure! Her shift's until 1 am right?" The ginger, Petra, replies.

And that's how Levi found himself staying at Kismet Diner until 1 am.

- - -

I laughed at love 'cause I thought it was funny You came along and you moved me honey I've changed my mind, this love is fine

"I think the customers like this song but I can't seem to place what the title is..." The rush hour has since lulled when Petra wonders out loud to the other waitress who's still in the kitchen.

He remembers this one. The older guys back in the military would belt it out when they're drunk as fuck on days when they're allowed to have a break. Frankly, it gave him a headache every time and he doesn't know how Erwin and all the other soldiers were able to take Pyxis seriously after his one-man concert.

He speaks up without thinking.

"Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis."

"Yes, that's the title!" Her eyes light up and she fully spins to face him. "You're into oldies music?"

Levi blinks, and for the first time in his life, he found his throat dry because she's finally talking to him fuck fuck fuck what will he say what was the question again.

"Uh... yeah, I guess?"

Wait, what?

She skates over to his table, a wide smile on her face. "That's so cool! I don't meet a lot of people my age who's still into the oldies. Even my dad teases me about it."

"Oh..."

"What's your name? I'm Petra, by the way. But I think you already know that," she grins sheepishly, pointing to her name plate. "I know I shouldn't really be talking to you but you're here every night so I thought it might be great to get to know our regular customers more."

He blinks up to her, trying to get a hold of himself before he fucks this up even more.

"Levi."

"Nice to meet you, Levi." She looks at her wristwatch and her surroundings, probably checking if there are more tables to cater to, before turning back to him. "My shift's over but I think you stay up late here, right? Mind if I sit with you? I haven't eaten dinner yet and I'd appreciate the company."

He gives her a shrug as his approval and she beams another smile before disappearing back to the kitchen. Petra comes back after a few minutes, still in her pink waitress uniform but without the cap and she also changed her skates to normal cream flats. She brought along a small bag and she unpacks it after sitting down at the chair in front of him.

What the hell is happening?

"Don't get me wrong. I love the food here but it's a bit overpriced if you ask me," she says as brings out her lunchbox. "Don't tell Nanaba that though."

"Wouldn't your boss fire you for randomly inviting yourself at a customer's table?"

"Nanaba? We go way back high school. She's the one who's pushing me to take breaks actually."

They sit in silence for awhile after that. Levi watches as she munches on her sandwich while he takes another sip of his coffee. Not knowing what to say, he just turns back to his laptop to type away. Petra, on the other hand, seems like a great conversationalist.

"So... what's your favorite?" She speaks up after having few bites into her dinner.

"Favorite?"

"Song? There's a lot of classics that deserve attention but I'm curious which one caught your attention."

Fuck.

His mind comes up blank until the image of his blonde best friend came to mind. Erwin knows about this old school shit. Not surprising because he's more ancient than Levi is.

What was that song Eyebrows belted out again when they went on that dreaded karaoke night? He recalls Erwin singing something after his cheating long-distance girlfriend finally broke up with him when they were allowed to call their loved ones.

"Mr. Lonely by Bobby Vinton stuck with me." He replies, again without thinking. She laughs out loud the moment the words were out his mouth and Levi frowns in indignation. "Oi, if you're going to laugh at my shitty taste in music then you can get your ass off my table."

"No, no." Petra wipes away a tear from her laughing. "I think it fits your grumpy 'get-off-my-lawn' grandpa vibe. What, someone broke your heart recently?"

"Grumpy grandpa?" Pretty smile and bubbly personality aside, he's starting to think this woman's a bit rude.

- - -

He's still back the next day though.

"Good evening, sir! Will you be having the usual?" Petra greets. He gives her a slight nod before wheeling himself to his spot. He watches as she flurries around during the dinner rush hour, skating from one table to another. She never loses her smile, even when one lady was being a bitch after Petra delivers the wrong milkshake.

Unlike the previous nights where he's content with just sneaking glances at the gorgeous waitress, Levi spends the next few hours gathering the courage to make a move.

Petra stayed in his table until closing time last night and he listened as she babbled on about all their menu offerings and how she likes creating the milkshakes and the coffee the best.

He'd like to think that they're somehow acquainted enough for him to maybe ask her out.

A look a-there, here she comes There comes that girl again Wanted to date her since I don't know when But she don't notice me when I pass

The booming music is only making him nervous, the cheesy lyrics is pissing him off and fuck, he really wants to punch the music player off right now.

Once Petra finally skates over to him though, setting down his usual black coffee and clubhouse sandwich, he takes his chance.

"Are you free tomorrow night?"

"Sir?" She blinks at him and he almost melts as he stares at her huge amber eyes.

"Uhm... you mentioned that you have Fridays off," he starts. "There's this fair that will be opening tomorrow night and I thought you might be into that. First day's the best time to go too while the crowd hasn't shit on the place yet."

The more he hears his words, the more he wants to kick himself with his still working leg.

He notices that a faint blush started to color her cheeks, eyes shifting down before she gives him a shy smile.

"I'd love to go with you, Levi."

- - -

"Wow, you..."

"Were able to hit them all?" He gears up to shoot the last can. "I was in the military."

"No wonder you have that cool scar!"

His eyes darkens a little bit at that, mind taking him back to the career-ending moment that led to where he is now.

Petra seems to notice his reaction. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"It's fine. It's been almost a year." He cuts her off. This day's supposed to be fun and he's not allowing his PTSD to take over his chances of charming a girl (which was already low at his current state, he thinks).

"That's amazing, son!" The guy manning the booth approaches him. "Feel free to pick any prize for the lady."

Petra looks down to him for approval, asking if she can pick a prize or if he'd rather pick one since it was him who won after all. He gives her a small smile, gesturing towards the display of prizes.

He watches as Petra buzzes around in excitement, deciding on whether she should get the elephant plushie or this creepy clown plushie that caught her attention for some godforsaken reason. (He pushes her to get the elephant one instead.)

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day When it's cold outside I've got the month of May I guess you'd say What can make me feel this way

"Vanilla is still the best."

"You're boring," she retorts. "How can you only try mint chocolate just once in your life? You get refreshing and sweet dark chocolate at the same time. It's the best combination out there!"

"Yeah, if you like eating your toothpaste," he retorts back.

"Come on, just give it a chance?"

They're settled on a bench right now, his wheelchair parked next to the seat. They take this opportunity to have a conversation while they finish their ice cream.

He learns that she's currently finishing up a nursing degree and that she's working part-time at Kismet Diner to fund her studies. She has an obsession with mint chocolate ice cream, and that she truly loves skating outside of work because she also does roller derby on the weekends (with her boss Nanaba and another girl named Nifa). She's an only child and her dad currently lives in the countryside.

Levi tells her a little bit about himself too and he's glad that she respects his reserved nature. He doesn't tell her about his time in the military, only that he used to be a captain for a few years before he left. He also shared that he used to pursue a degree in Computer Science before dropping out halfway through to join the military. Since he left, his unfinished degree has been useful since he was able to find consistent freelance opportunities as a web developer.

That seems like the perfect job for someone who's anti-social as you, she notes and he gives her an unamused look.

He also finds out that he's actually ten years older than her, and he feels even more like an old man at that moment.

"Hey, I like your grumpy grandpa vibe," she teases him.

"You'd get along with Gabi and Falco."

"Who? Are they your kids?" Her eyes lights up when she takes note of his fond tone before it starts to narrow in suspicion. "You're not married are you?"

"What? Hell no. My hair would probably be gray now if they were." He says. "They're my neighbours. Both... what? 13 I think? They wouldn't stop pestering me since I moved into the complex a few months ago. Those two brats also won't stop calling me grandpa. Do I really look that old?"

"I'd say it's because of the wheelchair but it's actually your scowl that completes the look," she replies with a cheeky smile.

When they're done with their ice cream, Petra rolls him around while he holds on to her big-ass elephant plushie for her. He'd know she's excited about a booth in particular when he feels his wheelchair move faster towards their destination.

Throughout the night, she won them a bag of lollipops once and Petra insists he takes them home to Gabi and Falco. He, on the other hand, was surprised that his military background would be useful for something as useless as carnival games. His fast reflexes and sharp eye bagged them a few more wins, with the last game earning them a free popcorn.

- - -

Before they capped off the night, Petra (the retro lover that she is) led him to a nearby jazz club that she visited once. She insisted that it's on the way home so why not drop by? The atmosphere is more chill than Levi expected so at least he didn't have to listen to another upbeat bubblegum retro track.

"Come dance with me?" She says after a moment of watching the couples on the small dance floor.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm on a wheelchair for a reason."

"We can work around it." Ever the optimist, she leans down to try and help him stand up. "Lean yourself on me. I'll support you throughout."

Levi obliges, placing all of his weight on his working left leg while trusting the rest to Petra. He has his arms around and he tries to start moving with her.

He almost slips as he takes another step and in frustration, he attempts to sit down instead. "It's no use Petra-"

Petra's hold on him tightened. "Just trust me a little more Levi."

He sighs, attempting to stand again. They do find the right balance and rhythm on the second try and Levi breathes out in relief.

Soon, they're swaying to the music and Levi couldn't remember the last time he was upright like this, except for when he has to drag himself around with his crutch in the mornings.

Put your lips next to mine, dear Won't you kiss me once, baby? Just a kiss goodnight, maybe You and I will fall in love

"Petra?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not really into oldies music."

"I know. I realized that when you only kept mentioning the famous hits."

"Huh."

"I actually cringed when you said you liked Mr. Lonely."

"Shut up." She giggles at that and they finally sway in companionable silence, taking in the slow beat.

When the music stops, Petra reaches up to him, placing a kiss on his cheek. He feels his face warm up, throat bobbing as he stares dumbly at her.

"Thanks for tonight, Levi." - - -

Levi goes back to Kismet Diner the next day, and the day after that. He's there every night and she's always the one who takes and serves his order.

He'd accompany her as she eats her late-night dinner on his table and he sometimes brings her some cookies he baked that morning. Nanaba would throw Petra a smirk here and there whenever she serves his table or when Petra clocks off to have dinner with him.

"Your captain's here," he once heard the taller woman whisper to Petra once the door closes to signal his entrance.

Levi would order the same black coffee and clubhouse combination that Petra eventually offered him to try other things on the menu. "Come on, it's on the house! Why can't you just try other options?"

Love me tender, love me sweet Never let me go You have made my life complete And I love you so

One morning three months into getting to know each other, Levi wakes up feeling contentment wash over him when he smells that she's brewing his usual order from his own apartment kitchen.

Petra enters his room beaming a few minutes later, black coffee and a plate of pancakes in each hand. He distinctly notes that she's playing her retro love songs on loud speaker again and he's long since given up on stopping her.

She leans down to place his breakfast on the side table and she starts peppering kisses from his scarred cheek up to the affected blind eye.

"Good morning Levi!" He wholeheartedly accepts both the breakfast and the kisses, hooking his arm around her waist and cuddling closer to her as he sits up in bed.

He takes her in and finds that he slightly misses the pink uniform and roller skates she dons while she serves him at the diner... but he won't deny that he definitely prefers seeing her draped in nothing but his slightly oversized white shirt instead. "Morning."

🧡🧡🧡🧡 ehehe send fic requests here if you'd like

[infinitegalahad]

WASHING MACHINE HEART (SNEAK PEAK!)

Prompts: “i’m not jealous!” “you’re clearly jealous.”

Gif Credit: @andrewhaldane

Summary: Nothing ever lasts forever, everybody wants to rule the world. You are pretty much the only person who could change the way Lewis operates, and that's exactly what you do-change him.

Notes: Gender neutral reader. It's not explicitly stated, so I'm leaving it up for interaction. This is for a prompt request that I have decided to take totally out of proportion once again! I blame Lana Del Rey for making me think about sugar daddy Lewis Nixon. Also, Lewis Nixon needs lots of therapy. I mean trigger warning for both characters being unstable and needing help? This is a friends with benefits where one person wants more, and the other does too; but they don't know how to communicate it. Feels ahead! Also if you know the meaning of Washing Machine Heart, then you KNOW what this is going to be. Anything that I write that has Mitski's music is bound to be two things; long and painful. Enjoy this snippet! :D

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @now-im-a-belieber @50svibes @ricksmorty @pennyllanne @capsparkyspeirs @ask-you-what-sir

“You want me to be you’re what?”

Nearly spitting out drinks, Vat 69 mixed with vodka (A Nixon classic). It was quite a bizarre offer. Maybe Lewis had drunk too much, which was a common habit. But you made eye contact with him and he had a shit eating grin on your face. You let out an awkward laugh, and he followed suit.

You had been Lewis’s assistant operations officer since Caretan, there with him through a demotion, a divorice, and all of the other wonderful things that happened in his life. Not only was he your boss, but someone you confided in. He would confine in you, you would confide in him with stolen alcohol-it was a perfect example of mutualism. It’s as if you were his therapist at first, then a friend, and then a friend with benefits. Everything was kept under wraps, of course, for both of you to honor your diginites. Besides, you wouldn't wanna tarnish Lewis’s relationship with your father-considering that he was his boss, a Major general for the 101rst Airborne Division.

“A confidante. Companion. Confrère.” Nixon explained as he poured more vodka into your empty cup, which was not a good sign, “Miss Nixon won’t leave her baby boy alone. If I show her I have someone on my arm, she’ll shut up.”

“So let me get this straight. I go back home with you to New York, attend a party with you, be your arm candy, and you pay me?” You summarized his point, swimming the drink in your hands.

“Money, gifts, whatever you want, I can give you,” Lewis promised. He leaned against the railing as you looked at him. Your elbows grazed against each other. Resting your chin on your palm, you went deep into this arrangement.

The war had ended in The Pacific, so you could finally go home. As much as you were excited to leave and finally get back home, you’d miss Nixon. Sure, you’d be in Bronxville and he’d be Manhattan, only a train ride apart. Yes, he was a total asshole, but he was your asshole. The two of you had been together through thick and thin. Your parents would never approve of an alcoholic divorcee, but there was something inside of him that made you fill up with nervous excitement.

You could hear your mother’s voice, scolding you about the type of man Lewis was. Maybe he was a little too old, a little too broken, and a little too much for you, but that’s what attracted you to him. Over time, you learned that you and Nixon had much more in common. Both of you wanted to get away from your families. Hell, Nixon was paying for your college tuition at Sarah Lawenrece and when he had a weekend pass into Paris, you would come. For “work purposes”, but in all honesty it was for fine dining in Paris, shopping for the finest things in Champs-Élysées with Nixon, arm in arm wrapped under your finley manicured finger, and learning more about Miss Nixon’s best boy.

It was hard to let go of that. Everything he had done for you, and yet you were just friends with benefits. Still, after all you have gone through. It frustrated you. But after his divorce, you wanted to support him. He had lost everything, and without Dick, he was probably more lonely and hurt than ever. You wanted to be his comfort besides Vat 69. This arrangement could be an opportunity for the both of you. Maybe it would be more than an arrangement, but something bigger than that.

Lewis nudged your elbow as he raised a thick eyebrow, “Well, whatta’ say?”

“I say, why the hell not?” You accepted the offer, and the two of you clinked your drinks together. “So would we call this an arrangement? Be the pretty thing on your shoulder and you give me pretty things? Just like in Paris?”

“Just like Paris.” He reassured you, patting your shoulder. Sitting on a bench, he patted the spot next to you with his arm stretched out. “Sit with me?”

“Why I’d be honored too, good sir!” You dramatically stated for a comedic effect, which earned a smile from Lewis as you sat down right next to him. Moving close, both of your thighs caressed with each other. He adjusted and moved his free arm around you, bringing you close to him. You responded by laying your head on his chest, along with one of your hands.

Lewis didn’t say much besides drinking more from his cup, which kept getting refilled and gouged in seconds. There was a cold silence that filled the air. You kept adjusting in his hold, craving for that attention that wasn’t crude jokes or touch, but it always flew over his head. As he got lost in what the hell he was going to when he was home and the alcohol that poured in his system, you laid on his chest, waiting for that kiss, even though you knew that it wasn’t happening.

You closed your eyes as you laid there, pretending that Lewis was more than an arrangement for you.

The thing was, Lewis wasn’t dumb. He knew that too, but he didn’t know how to put it in words, so he used what he knew who to use best-money and gifts. Just as you always did.

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

Won’t You Stay A While? - fic

Characters: Ric Grayson, Damian Wayne, Tim Drake Summary: Ric did not expect to find a child sitting on the hood of his cab. Damian did expect to get his brother back. A/N: I kind of imagine Damian puked in the bathroom. Tim and Damian don’t speak on the way home, but him, Cass and Jason kind of become helicopter parents to him, especially after Tim tells Jason and Cass what Ric’s last words to them were. Inspired by ‘Hold Me While You Wait’ by Lewis Capaldi. Very Damian and amnesiac Dick song, it hurts my heart a lot.

~~

The bar’s bell chimed as the door opened, followed by: “Yo, Ric!”

Ric reluctantly took his eyes off Bea, looking towards the man at the door. A regular, who Ric often found himself playing barside therapist for.

“Hey, Lenny.”

“Your cab out front?”

“Know another cabbie who frequents this bar?”

Lenny snorted a raspy laugh. “Well, there’s a kid sittin’ on the hood. Told him to beat it, and he told me to shove it up my ass. Then he settled in like he owned the car himself. So, you may have a problem on your hands.”

Ric sighed. “Great. Did he say who he was?”

“I didn’t ask, and he wasn’t very forthcoming with the conversation.” Lenny shrugged. He clapped a hand on Ric’s shoulder as he passed, making a bee-line for the bathroom. “Looked like one of the local street rats, but I sensed a lil’ Gotham accent there, so good luck with that headache.”

A local gang member, even better. Ric groaned and pushed back from the bar, giving Bea a wave and already defeated smile as he backed towards the door.

He shoved at the door with his back and zipped up his jacket as he spun towards the road. The kid was easy to spot, all dark clothes against the bright yellow of the cab. His knees were curled to his chest, and the hood up over his head, shadowing his face.

“Hey, kid!”

The boy looked up, and Ric froze midstep.

Aw hell.

He’d have preferred the gang member.

Instead, it was the Wayne kid. Damian. One of the ones there when he woke up from his coma. One of the ones he couldn’t remember for the life of him.

“Damian?” He murmured as he approached, both to call the kid and ask himself if that was truly his name. Damian just stared at him, dark, near unnatural circles under his eyes, face set in a fierce frown. “What are you doing here?”

And he remembered the kid being haughty and confident. Snotty, practically. But here…here, he looked lost, exhausted. Sick, almost.

“I…” Damian murmured. He looked past Ric and narrowed his eyes in confusion. “I don’t know.”

“Does Wayne know you’re here?”

“No.” Damian said shortly. “And if he does, he doesn’t care.”

Ric didn’t know what that meant. Sensed it was a can of worms that he did not want to open.

“…Is there someone I can call to come get you? Take you home?”

Damian shrugged. “Probably.”

Ric found himself closing his eyes and sighing. From his brief time with the Wayne family since waking up, he remembered this kid was…weird. Distant. Difficult.

“…Well, then, are you hungry?” Ric asked. “Maybe some food’ll make you feel better.”

“What makes you think I feel bad?”

“Come on.” Ric scoffed. “Came all the way down to Bludhaven to sit on some guy’s cab because you’re having a fantastic day?”

Damian smirked a little at the sarcasm.

“Listen. I know a cool little café down the street. Great gelato milkshakes.” Ric tried. Damian wouldn’t make eye contact. Just remained curled up on himself. Ric huffed and grabbed Damian’s wrist, unwinding it and giving it a gentle pull. “You just gotta try it. Cheer you right up.”

To Ric’s surprise, Damian slid off the car easily, and immediately fell into step with him down the sidewalk. Ric found himself smiling as he led the way.

As they walked, despite his attitude on the car, he found Damian continually sneaking peaks at him, but then shyly looking away if he thought Ric was looking back.

“The scar’s pretty ugly, huh?” Ric asked.

“I have worse.” Damian countered. Then quieter, “You helped sew a few up, actually.”

“Gross.” Ric stuck his tongue out dramatically. “Where’d you get them?”

“On the streets.” Damian answered slyly, like Ric was supposed to understand what that meant. He held his hand out. “Though this one on my thumb was from when you were trying to teach me how to make apple dumplings. You forgot to tell me how to hold the fruit when I was cutting it, and I almost sliced my thumb off. Alfred banned you from the kitchen then.”

“…Huh.” Ric thought out loud. His stomach swirled in discomfort. Something that, if he thought about it, felt a little bit like jealousy. Maybe. He pointed up the street, to the café’s sign. “Sounds equal parts hilarious and almost traumatizing.”

Damian openly stared at him now. Then sighed and looked at his feet. “…Yeah.”

At the café, a waitress waved at them to pick a booth themselves, and that she’d be with them in a moment. Ric veered towards a nearby table and Damian followed, sitting across from him silently.

“…So…” Ric hummed, bouncing his fingers off each other. “What’d you say you came down here for again?”

“I didn’t.” Damian replied simply. He didn’t offer anything else.

“Then…what brings you to town?” Ric asked. “I mean…gotta be something.”

Damian said nothing. Seemed to just sink further into his black hoodie.

“You and your dad fight?”

Nothing.

“…You and the old butler guy fight?”

Damian just blinked at his fork.

“Something to do with your…you know, night life?”

Damian just stared at the table.

“Look, dammit…!” Ric suddenly slammed a fist on the table. Damian jumped, and the waitress who had yet to serve them looked up from the cash register. Ric pursed his lips and leaned forward to whisper. “Look, I’m trying to be nice here, okay? Can’t you give me anything? I mean, you know I don’t want to…”

Ric didn’t finish the thought. You know I don’t want to have anything to do with you or your family.

By the look on Damian’s face, he probably didn’t need to anyway.

Damian just watched him. In his flinch at Ric’s outburst, his hood had fallen from his head. Those circles under his eyes looked so much darker in the open sunlight. His skin so much paler. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in ages, or eaten. And those scars he’d mentioned, Ric could see a few poking out of the neck of the hoodie.

He did not look well.

“I thought…” Damian breathed, then blinked and shook his head, seemingly berating himself.

“You thought what?” Ric asked. Damian shook his head again, leaning back in the booth and looking out the window. “You thought what, Damian?”

Damian kept his mouth shut, though seemed to suddenly be blinking heavily.

“Look if you don’t tell me what’s going on, or why you’re here, I…” Ric sighed, leaned back himself. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

Damian closed his eyes at that.

And he remained silent, even when the waitress finally came over. She seemed cautious, and Ric supposed he didn’t blame her, not after he punched the table for no reason. He gave her his best smile anyway, ordering gelato milkshakes for the both of them. She wrote the order on her pad, sparing Damian a glance before spinning away.

Ric was still watching her walk away when he heard a quiet: “…I thought you would remember.”

He looked back at Damian. He’d opened his eyes now, and they were misty, ready to overflow.

“What?”

“It’s been weeks since you woke up. I know Father was pushy and you ran from that. I get it. I get that.” Damian tried. His voice was shaking, and he was trying so hard to control it. “But I thought enough time had passed.”

There was the sound of a buzz, and Damian shifted, pulling out a cell phone. He glanced at the message, but scoffed and placed the phone face down on the table between them.

“…I thought if I came here, if you saw me, I could help you trigger a memory or something. Anything.” Damian breathed. The tears overflowed instantly. “But I’m not enough. I’m not good enough. Again.”

“Damian-”

“After everything you’ve done for me, I can’t do this one single fucking thing for you!” Damian shrieked. The waitress looked up again from the counter. Other customers glanced up too. “I can’t…”

Damian fell into a coughing fit, he was crying so hard.

“…You were the only one who ever cared about me, and I can’t bring you back.” Damian cried. “I can’t bring Dick Grayson back and I don’t…I don’t know if that means you never actually cared about me in the first place or if I’m just more worthless than I thought.”

Ric glanced at the others in the café, everyone blatantly staring now.

“Damian, look…” But Damian was already shaking his head.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Suddenly he was scooting out of the booth. “Forget it.”

“No, you’re okay, it’s-”

But Damian was already running across the restaurant towards the bathroom. The slam and lock of the bathroom door echoed through the silent dining room, and Ric looked out the window, instead at all the patrons now silently judging him.

After a moment, Ric sighed, and reached across the table for Damian’s forgotten phone. He clicked the screen on, and read the message that had been left.

From someone named Todd, reading: Where the fuck are you kid????

Ric waited a moment, to see if that name rang a bell. When it didn’t, he sighed and press the call button.

~~

Damian came out of the bathroom forty-five minutes later, and found the booth he’d been sitting in empty.

Not surprising, he thought. He wouldn’t want to stick around and wait for himself either.

But then the waitress appeared next to him, holding out a Styrofoam cup. “Your friend is outside.” She whispered sweetly. “He had me put your drink in the fridge for you for whenever you’re ready.”

Damian nodded his thanks and took the cup. The woman smiled and pointed towards the window, where Ric could be seen sitting on the curb outside. Damian swallowed the lump in his throat and moved towards the door.

He sat down next to Ric silently, staring intensely at the straw poking out of the cup. Ric was bent between his knees, fiddling with the shoestrings on his boots.

“I wasn’t lying – their shakes are the best in town. Even a boring flavor like vanilla.” Ric hummed almost jovially. Damian nodded, absently rocking the cup back and forth, feeling the weight of it shift between his fingers, the chill escaping into his fingers.

After another moment, Ric sat back up and sighed, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked at Damian, then shifted, digging in his pocket, and pulling out the cell phone.

“You left this on the table.” Ric said. “I…I called that Todd guy, who texted you.”

Damian pursed his lips as he took the phone back. “What did he say?”

“Well, he didn’t sound thrilled to hear me. Or to hear this is where you were.” Ric answered with a wince. He glanced at his watch. “He should be here in about an hour or so.”

“Okay.” Damian responded monotonously. “You can go, if you want. No need to be late for your next shift on my account.”

“I don’t work today.” Ric countered just as blandly. “Also – I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“You already did once. What’s once more?” Damian drawled bitterly. Ric didn’t respond to it, knowing Damian meant the amnesia. His decision to leave Gotham and cut Bruce Wayne and his associates out of his life. For exactly what he didn’t say inside the café. But to his surprise, Damian frowned almost instantly. “I’m…I’m sorry. That was rude. I know…none of this is your fault.”

“…I’m sorry your brother’s gone, Damian.” Ric looked to the sky. “I’m sorry I can’t…be who you need me to be.”

“No one ever is.” Damian exhaled. He finally shoved the straw in his mouth. “Not even Dick Grayson was, in some ways. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”

The statement left a bad taste in Ric’s mouth. “Regardless – I’m not leaving you here by yourself. You’re what, ten?”

“Thirteen.”

“Close enough.” Ric shrugged. “I’m waiting here with you until your ride gets here. And that’s final.”

“Whatever you say.” Damian shrugged. He slurped on his straw, and hummed thoughtfully. “You’re right, this is good.”

“Told you.”

Damian didn’t answer that. Took a few more sips of the drink. Smacked his lips and whispered, “I’m sorry I came here.”

A car was passing right as he said it, and Ric almost missed it. He had a feeling that was the point. He looked down at him, and once again, Damian wouldn’t meet his eye.

“…I’m not.” He decided. Without warning, he threw his arm around Damian’s shoulders, pulling him into his side. “I don’t know what our relationship was before but…it was nice to meet you. Again. Officially. You seem like a pretty cool kid.”

Damian immediately stiffened in the hold, but didn’t pull away, and he struck Ric as one to do so if he wished to.

“…Is this okay?”

Damian thought a moment, and then just as suddenly – he relaxed into the hold, and even leaned his head on Ric’s shoulder.

“…Yeah.” Damian’s voice was already trembling. After a second, Ric saw a tear drip onto the lid of the milkshake. “This is fine.”

“Okay. Just tell me if it’s not.” Ric murmured, running his arm along Damian’s shoulder. After a moment, in an attempt to give Damian a semblance of privacy, he gently lifted his hood back over his head. The boy gasped a sob in the mockery of a thanks.

“…I miss you.” Damian wailed after a moment. Softly, like he wasn’t allowed to say it, let alone think it. “I miss you so much.”

All Ric could say was, “I know.” And “I’m sorry, kid.”

Damian said nothing else for the rest of the hour they waited, so Ric didn’t either. Just watched the cars as they drove by, waiting for anyone who looked like the contact picture that popped up when he called the one named Todd. Rubbed Damian’s shoulder every so often to offer some comfort.

Damian just tried to calm down enough to drink his milkshake.

Eventually, a car pulled up on the other side of the street, and a teenager who couldn’t have been much older than Damian got out. It wasn’t Todd for sure, but Damian sat up at the sight of him anyway. As the teen crossed the street towards him, he seemed to be hit with a wave of relief.

“There you are.” The teenager breathed as Damian stood.

“Why’d he send you?” Damian snapped, but there didn’t appear to be any malice behind it. He also didn’t seem that annoyed when the other wrapped him in a quick hug.

“Because it was literally taking the rest of them – Goliath and Titus included – to stop Bruce from coming down here himself to get you and check on…” The boy trailed off and glanced at Ric, still sitting on the curb. “…Thanks for watching out for him, Mr. Grayson.”

“My pleasure. Kind of.” He gave an awkward smile. “…Did I know you?”

The boy looked sad, and Ric frowned at the look. He was so, so tired of that look.

“You did.” But that’s all he offered. “Name’s Tim.”

“Tim.” Ric repeated. It didn’t register. “You’re not the one I called.”

“No, Jason’s our older brother.” Tim gave as an explanation. He paused for a moment and glanced at Damian. “You have him in your phone as Todd, right?”

Damian nodded.

“Right, yeah. He was…busy. So I came instead.” Tim tried. “Do you want picture proof that I’m not here kidnapping him or something…?”

“No, no. I have a feeling Damian wouldn’t be standing here if you were.” Ric stood himself, shoved his hands in his pockets. “So…I guess we’re good.”

“Guess so. Thanks again.” Tim instantly whirled Damian around towards the car. “Take care, Mr. Grayson. And I know Bruce always said it to you before but…if you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to call.”

Ric nodded silently, and gave Damian a quick wave. Damian didn’t return it. In fact, since Tim arrived, Damian had not even looked at him.

When they were just hitting the yellow line separating the lanes, Ric called, “Damian?”

Damian glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were bloodshot and red.

“You’re not worthless. So don’t let anyone make you think you are, okay? Not even me.” He smiled softly. “And get some sleep or something.”

Both Ric and Tim waited for Damian to give a response, but when he didn’t, Tim just turned him back towards the car, a far too fancy looking thing. As they reached the other side of the street, Ric listened as Tim carefully whispered, “Are you okay…?”

Damian shook his head. Tried to rub nonchalantly at his eyes.

Ric turned and started walking back to the bar before they even got in the car.

[a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives]

Home and Away recap: Luke Arnold really can act and Colby’s life hangs in the balance

by Stephanie McKenna for The West Australian

Spoiler alert to anyone hasn’t watch this show!

Colby’s life hangs in the balance!

Hello one and all and welcome to the 2021 season return of Home and Away.

After a mighty long recap the show begins and the producers give us exactly what we want, since they know they delivered a lacklustre finale.

It picks up at the jail, and Colby isn’t breathing which is just so artistically juxtaposed by Dean (obviously shirtless with tattoos blazing) and sweeping drone shots of the bay.

Lewis whips out the defibrillator, but Colby can’t be revived.

Sadly we don’t see how Colby ended up in this lifeless state but then I remember this is a family show so affairs, robberies and transporting drugs are allowed, but a shanking would be too far.

Lewis is played by Luke Arnold who joined in the finale last year and has already been dubbed as a poor man’s Johnny Depp. But now I don’t know if it’s now offensive to call Lewis, Depp, since Depp has been “cancelled”.

Anyway, the suspense is disrupted and Colby’s life hangs in the balance because Kieran (Martha’s long-lost son with a violent past) is zhuzhing up his CV which is just thrilling TV.

Kieran drops it off at the gym where he runs into Jasmine again but it’s ok because Jas has decided the put their first and very intense encounter behind her.

Next up is Dean who still won’t visit bestie Colby in jail.

“I’m sure as hell not going to relive that nightmare,” Dean says

It’s apparent Dean hasn’t been back to prison since he was released which is exactly what Bella goes on to say.

Back to the ambulance which hurtles towards the hospital as Colby has a seizure.

Jas gets to work, her other work at the hospital, where Dr Christian Green, aka Budget McDreamy, is briefing everyone about the incoming patient from the corrections facility.

The poor bloke hasn’t heeded my advice and he’s still in the same clothes.

There’s clearly something going on between Lewis and McDreamy because they both throw each other a bit of shade.

I mean it wouldn’t be Home and Away if the new characters didn’t have unresolved problems eating away at them.

Anyway, no surprises that the patient is Colby, but it’s a surprise to Jas who is really showing us a breathtaking range of emotion.

McDreamy pulls Jas aside and tells her she should sit this one out, but she declines because Colby’s sperm is still her best chance at having a baby so he must live.

This guy can actually act! Credit: Supplied/Supplied

There’s a lot of doctoring words but of utmost concern is the blood coming from Colby’s ears which I know because of my years watching Grey’s Anatomy would indicate trauma to the head.

“What have they done to you,” Budget McDreamy utters with compassion.

I notice that Colby doesn’t annoy me as much when he’s close to death.

Back to ol’ mate Deano who is sticking to stubborn ways and insists he’s not going to visit Colby even though everything he’s been through is what his best friend is currently going through, plus if Colby didn’t take the wrap they’d be in there together.

I think the point has been made but Dean launches into a monologue to really stress the perils of jail.

I don’t believe Dean has ever strung so many words together.

“You can’t possibly understand, no one can unless you’re been in there. It doesn’t matter who you were before you went in, you have to start all over again, you need to earn your place, fight your own battles and it never stops,” he says.

“I’ll take you to the prison if that’s what you want but I’m waiting outside.”

Back at the hospital Jasmine gives the guards some ‘tude.

She wants to call Bella, but the guard says it’s a security issue.

“Like it or not your patient is a convicted murderer and there are protocols in place,” says the extra dressed as a security guard.

Gee, I hope this guy gets a guest spot.

Poor Jas is nearly is tears.

But Poor Depp is a nifty man and is going to outsmart the guards.

They pay Bella and Dean a visit in person to inform them about the gravity of the situation.

They’re certainly up to something because two giant dudes covered is matching blood and sand tattoos cause a commotion while Bella and Dean sneak into Colby’s room.

I assume these dudes — which the producers are trying to conceal the faces of — are the River Boys that were teased in the trailer.

Naturally Bella is brought to tears by the sight of her brother’s almost lifeless body.

Budget McDreamy comes back from the commotion and breaks up the reunion. He does have a very commendable bed side manner though.

Jas and Poor Depp hug it out.

Seriously look at the emotion on his face. Credit: Channel 7/Supplied

Bella and Dean worry how they can protect Colby, but he won’t need protecting if he’s dead.

Ah I spoke too soon because COLBY MOVES!

No one finds out because Kieran is still going on about the gym gig which only confirms how delusional he is because he certainly does not have the cold heart and fake smile required for customer service.

“This gym gig is perfect. Why wouldn’t she give it to me,” Kieran ponders.

Anyway, it switches back to the wedge Kieran is driving between Martha and Alf.

Martha insists it’s “not necessary” for him to leave and she’s going to “take care” of Alf.

Just to be clear, the tone isn’t as ominous as it seems, and it doesn’t appear that Martha is going to kill Alf.

Alf gets in a huff because either Kieran stays or Martha is going.

Alf backs down a bit when he realises he could lose his wife again and naturally, he threatens Kieran.

“I’ll be watching you like a hawk,” Alf says.

If it was real life, they’d all go to counselling and sort it out, but there’s no way Alf would agree to that. So I guess a divorce is imminent.

credits: The West Australian

[the-fiction-witch]

Apologies P3

REAL LIFE:  COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: MEAN + SAD + DARK 

I stood at my locker sorting out my books for class "Hey Y/n Manatee" A voice smirked I turned around and saw Thomas trying to peek under my skirt "Ughh! Get off you dirty Bastard!" I complained "I was just having a look Y/n" He smirked giving my butt a slap "Get off Thomas!" "fine, You spoil all my fun fat ass" he smirked before he walked off to his class so I sighed finishing up my stuff and heading to my class "Excuse me miss Lewis?" The teacher asks holding her ruler "Yes miss?" "In roll that skirt this instant! You know your not allowed your skirt above the knee" "Ohh... I'm sorry miss but it's not rolled" "Then pull it down!" "I can't miss I won't go anymore down..." I began "Don't argue with me! To the deputy heads office now!" She ordered so I went almost crying going and sitting on the little chair outside for a while "What are you doing here?" He asked as he walked past with a cup of coffee and a donut "Miss Ola sent me because of my skirt" I answered so he let me inside his office shutting the door behind me as I stood with my books "Alright, skirt violation... It is above the knee miss Lewis" he warns "I know sir but you see... Because of it zipping at the waist it won't go down anymore, if I push it down it won't zip up" I explain "Ohh that's ridiculous!" He laughs coming and tugging on my skirt noticing it wouldn't budge due to my hips "humm... It would seem your skirt is too small that will solve the zip and length issue,go and buy a bigger one from the school shop' "But sir... As the school requires uniform to be bought from the school, this is the largest sold" "Right" he sighed "I've had quite enough of your talking back you lady!" "But sir-" "Enough!" He yelled "I'm sending you home, come back with a longer skirt, a bigger skirt, or loose some weight!" "Yes sir" I said as I took my note from my parents and went home giving it to my mother as soon as I got in "But you can't help they don't sell them any bigger!" She yelled and I nodded in tears "and that dam school charges twenty pounds a skirt, that's it I'm buying from stones and sewing the dam logo on myself!"

I took my books as the bell rang running off to the little computer room that was my form room, I never liked eating in the canteen and it's not like I had freinds to sit with on the yard so I would always go and read in my form room as the library didn't allow food, so I opened the door seeing the room dark and empty so I clicked on the lights "Fuck off!" A voice shouted from within "Thomas?" I asked as I did recognise the voice "Turn the fucking lights off manatee!" He yelled so I turned all but one off as he sat on the floor at the back of the room tears staining his face "Are you okay?" "What the bloody hell do you care manatee?" "I don't know why I should" I sighed "but I do so ... What's wrong?" "Lindsey broke up with me okay! Happy now!" "Are you alright?" "Yeah I'm fine" he sighed "Do you want some gum?' I offered he turned and gently smiled at me taking a couple prices as I sat close to him but still keeping my distance "you must have really liked her?" I smiled as I had some gum too "Not really" "Then why where you dating her?" "I don't know," he shrugs "the guys say shes hot? Her dad's rich? I don't know just kinda assumed I had to" "Why did you have to?" "Because she's like the second hottest girl in our year so... Kinda have to date her?" "Didn't you like anything about her?" "I don't know, uhh I liked making out with her?" He shrugs "Isn't it kinda a given that you enjoy making out with most people you make out with?" I asked "I guess so" he laughs "Mind me asking why she broke up with you?" "She wanted to go out with Daniel" he sighed having to sniffle and wipe a tear "Fucking Daniel" I sighed probably the person I hate most below Thomas "Whoa" he laughs "What?" "I think that's the first time I've ever heard you swear manatee?" He laughs "you should do it more often... Kinda suits you" I looked at the clock and but wouldn't be long till next period and my class was across the school so I got up giving him some more of my gum "Talk to your brother when you go home I'm sure he'll help out Thomas" I smiled going to the door "Hey!" He yelled across the room as he got up wiping his eyes "thanks Y/n" "Your welcome Thomas"

I signed up for this year's fall production but to be on the stage team of course, wearing all black, knowone knows you exist all I wanted out of life. Unfortunately a certain blonde someone also ended up on the stage hand team but lately... Thomas hadn't been causing me much trouble, yeah I caught him sneaking peaks up my skirt ever so often and he still called me names but I had bigger things to worry about. I stood on the stage doing all the mic rigs I job I did enjoy its like playing a video game because you couldn't put them too close or they squeal but too far you don't pick anything up from performers even if they where all rehearsing across the school while we where setting up and running music and lighting ques it felt like it took hours even if I was enjoying it plus being in black under heavy stage lights was making me quiet hot somehow I ended up the only one on the stage for a while as everyone else had gone to there bags for drinks and such I spotted Thomas stood in his black tee and his black school trousers his white shirt sleaves rolled up to cuff around his black theatre shirt having a drink from his blue bottle "Hey uhh Y/n right?" One of the six form boys on the control panel at the back asked "Yeah?" I asked into a mic as they wouldn't hear me I'd I didn't "Can you just uhh stand in the middle for me, and sing something real quick we just need to check for the chorus girls!" He yelled to me I did as I was told a little nervous being under these lights, everyone could see me, everyone would hear me and judge me and look at my body "just anything okay! It doesn't matter it's just for sound" I didn't know what to do or how to feel about it as I felt a million eyes all over me... "I dreamed a dream in time gone by, when hope was high and life worth living, I seemed that love would never die, I dream that would god would be forgiving" I sang I couldn't see anything but the harsh light from the stage lights nothing but light and flickers of people in wings "that okay?" "Uhhh yeah, yeah that's fine" he nodded so I ran to my bag burring my head in it as I got a drink, I could feel all there eyes but tried to ignore them "right that's a wrap for tonight guys, see you all tomorrow!" So I grabbed a bag and coat almost running out avoiding the clicks of freinds as I headed out and down the street towards home, I felt eyes behind me so I glanced and saw Thomas with his bag following at a distance behind me so I kept walking but unable to ignore his eyes as he looked at me "What?" I asked "What?" He laughs "Stop following me!" "I'm going home, I can't help we live the same way manattee" he laughs So I kept walking "stop looking at me!" "I'm just walking and looking Infront of me" he smirked "not my fault that means you manattee" "Well stop it's creepy!" "Why did you not tell anyone?" "About what?" "You know exactly what" he smirked as he walked backwards on the road he walked backwards looking at me as he walked slightly Infront of me walking the white line along the road "I don't know what your talking about" "Don't you?" He laughs "since when could you sing like that?' "Since forever," "I've been with you since day one of primary school manatee how the hell did I not know?' "I don't like stages and you never asked" "Why don't you go audition for the roles? Rather then being stuck on the tech team?" "I have what they call a radio face" I sighed "and a radio body, honestly just a indoor non face to face world is what I'm meant for" I sighed "you should know you've been telling me since I was five" "Y/n..." he said clearly going to start something but I went into my gate "come on Y/n wait-" he began but I shut the door to the house

I stood organizing the closet for the drama department it was full of costumes and props from classes, exams, performances and shows. I offered to tidy it on my lunch break as I had little else to do this lunch and it got me away from everyone else. I heard the door open assuming it was a teacher but... They didn't call, I froze thinking who could be there as I stood putting a 20's showgirl dress on a hanger from bugsy Malone last year "Hey manattee" a voice smirked as I felt a hand on my waist, I instantly pushed it away turning to see... Not Thomas but Daniel, the dark haired football boy that had been long freinds with Thomas but they had drifted apart as Daniel focused on football, that and the matter of Lindsey "how are ya doing?" He smirked "Fine, what do you want?" I asked as I worked "Not much just... Figured as we had a little alone time" he smirked putting his hand on my skirt but I pushed him away "Get off Daniel!" "Ohh come on manatee, there's so much off you I just wanna touch a couple of bits" he smirked grabbing my boobs "I said no Daniel!" I yelled hitting his hands away "I wasn't asking manatee" he laughed pushing me hard onto the pile of set boxes and foam props... I don't remember much of exactly what happened, I don't think mentally I was there in my body, my soul abandoned my body for half an hour leaving my body as it screamed and cried begging for help that no matter how much she screams will never come. When he left I remember feeling so strange and horrible like I was broken, I just remembered going to my English class sitting alone at the back of class and wanting to cry but I think I was all cried out "You alright Y/n?" The teacher asked and I didn't answer I didn't know how to unsure of what has just happened to me and unsure of how to just sit back into a lesson like nothing happened "just try to finish a story before the end of class" she says handing me some paper and a work sheet I just wrote a story about a woman who dreamed of living on a cloud so knowone would ever see her and that whenever she got sad it would start raining like the clouds wanted her there too but no matter how hard they both tried they both failed. As soon as class was over I went home the house empty as my family was away, and I just collapsed right there against the front door crying into the dark and empty house holding myself so tightly that it hurt, I cried, I screamed, I burnt, I cut, I did everything and nothing would ever truly numb the pain.

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 29)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25  Lewis POV 3,  Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3

Part 30: here

. 

Clank. The screwdriver clatters on the concrete, impossibly loud for something so small. Arthur grimaces at the noise, attention jumping up to the workshop door in guilty anticipation. When several seconds pass and his Uncle doesn’t come barging in to deliver a lecture on how he shouldn’t be sneaking into the workshop without permission, Arthur returns to the half-constructed box of plastic and wire he has positioned on the desk before him.

He squints in the dimming light. The sun has almost set, casting a small square of orange light on one half of the workbench. Arthur is hesitant to open the garage doors or switch on the main lights, knowing it would tip off his Uncle. An unusual lack of clients that week had left the garage wholly empty and the benches clear. Even Uncle Lance, who practically lived at the workbench, is out, giving him the window needed to finish his current project.

The project? Fix his Uncle’s old VCR. Then Lance would finally be able to re-watch all those old wrestling tapes he kept boxed, gathering dust, up in his room. The VCR, broken for as long as Arthur could remember, had been a permeant fixture of the living room until relegated to the shed out back.  Arthur has his doubts on how enjoyable he would find watching two men role around or whatever they did in pro wrestling, but his Uncle probably kept the tapes around for a reason. The point of a gift was to do something nice for someone else. So far, he has pulled the whole thing apart, spotted then fixed the fault, and is fitting it back together again.  Not like the VCR is super complicated. Not like the computer, which had been a lot harder to reassemble. Uncle Lance had not been pleased about that one. “Arthur!” The sudden address almost has him knocking the whole thing to the ground. He doesn’t, but it’s a near miss. “What have I told ya about messin around in here!” Arthur jumps up, dropping the screwdriver out of sight onto the seat. Not that the small action helps him any. Not with the incriminating mess spread across the workbench. “I’m not!” He blurts. His Uncle folds both his arms and gives him that unimpressed, ‘you’ll be grounded in your room for the next week if you don’t start explaining quickly,’ look. Despite Arthur now being almost the same height as Lance, the other man seems awfully tall when he’s angry. “I mean…I’m not ‘messin around’ I know exactly what I’m doing. Also, I’m only using the tools, none of the electrical equipment, just like you said. What’s dangerous about that? Not like I’m about to stab myself with the screwdriver.” He quickly delivers the pre-prepared excuse before his Uncle can start lecturing. More unconvinced frowning. The arms remain crossed. Maybe he should have skipped the ‘stab myself with a screwdriver’ part. Lance didn’t think Arthur dumb enough to do something that stupid right? Right? “Is that the VCR?” His Uncle spots the partially assembled project. So much for the gift being a surprise. Arthur clears his throat, “Yeah. I found it in the shed.” Anything in the shed was free game. “What the fuc…ah…heck ya doing to it?” Lance's next expression is more confusion than anger. Confusion is good. Arthur can work with confusion. “Fixing it,” Arthur can’t help but feel a little proud, “I just need to put the casing back, and it’ll be done.” “What for? We don’t own any tapes?” Pride becomes awkwardness, and he looks down to the ground, “Ah…what about the ones in your room?” His Uncle coughs, “Those old things? Ya’d hate wrestling.” “Yeah? I mean…I fixed it so you could watch them…” He trails off, suddenly embarrassed. His Uncle goes quiet. Why had he thought this was a good idea again? Of course, his Uncle didn’t want to watch the tapes. If he had, he would have bought a new VCR or got their one fixed by a professional. It��s not like it was expressive or anything. A weight lands on his head, and Arthur is treated to the sensation of a hand ruffling his hair. “Yeh a good kid,” His Uncle mutters before speaking louder, “I’ve been tryin to fix that thing for a good while. How long did it take ya?” The embarrassment evaporates, and Arthur lets himself grin, attention jumping up as he rushes to answer the question, “Like…four hours. I know, that’s a long time, but it took me way longer to disassemble it than I thought it would. I had to make notes and stuff because I only had the instruction manual to work from, and I didn’t want to mess up and not be able to put it back together.” He gestures at the paper-strewn workbench. “Not what I…” His Uncle starts then grunts in amusement, “That’s impressive.” Arthur feels his chest inflate and his back straighten. Impressive. His Uncle thought it was impressive.

“But you’re not getting outta trouble that easily. From now on, tell me when ya want ta use the tools…” Arthur is too happy to properly register the rest of the lecture. He is happy, right up until… “Stop. Ugh.” …His Uncle’s voice cuts off abruptly. Confused, Arthur tries reacting, but finds himself frozen, stuck staring at this Uncle’s still expression. Wind, birds, the hum of the workshop’s generator: it all drops away. Silence. The world shifts sideways, sunlight dimming. Reds, browns, and oranges are replaced with shades of grey, colour draining from the walls and floor. “Yuck,” The third, familiar, voice continues, “Enough of the mushy sentimental nonsense. It’s giving me a migraine.” Arthur, abruptly able to move, recoils violently to the side, stumbling back and spinning to face sound. Relaxed in the work chair adjacent to the bench, is a recognisable figure. A second Arthur. Green skinned, twirling the screwdriver idly between two fingers, it gives him a lazy wave. “Sup,” The creature greets jovially. A memory. This was a memory just like with Lewis and The Cave. The realisation hits him in the chest, taking his breath away, ripping the energy from his limbs. Arthur is not ten years old, avoiding homework, presenting Uncle Lance with his latest endeavour. That was the past. A memory. Grief and disappointment travel through his every cell, coiling painfully about his heart before sinking into greyed-out workshop floor. Arthur’s attention drifts to his Uncle who is still frozen, face morphed between a stern frown and half-crocked smile. This is the present. His own personal hell. “Personal hell? That’s a bit much,” The demon laughs, amused, pointing the screwdriver at him, “Humans. Kill one relative, and it’s like the word’s ending. You’re all so dramatic.” “Why are you here?” Arthur hastily retreats across the room, putting his back against the door. Between him and the doppelganger stands the frozen, desaturated silhouette of his Uncle. Whereas before, in the memory, Arthur had been shorter and barely reaching his Uncle’s eyeline, now, he is standing a head taller. Still dressed in the oiled work shirt and pants he’d be wearing for the last twelve hours, Arthur's mind churns trying to compute events around him. These are same clothes he had been wearing when…when he had… “What did you do?” He snaps, trying and failing to stop his voice from shaking. The pain weighs on him, deadening any other observations. He’d like to return to the blissful unawareness of the memory, please. Why is the bastard demon ruining even that? “Me?” The demon scoffs, “I didn’t do anything. You came here all by yourself. A mental safehouse of sorts. It happens now and then. I call it ‘ignoring reality’ but whatever, same difference.” “Can’t imagine why I’d want to ignore reality. What a mystery. How will you ever figure it out?” Arthur retorts, lacing in some sarcasm, feeling along the door for the handle. A patronising grin, “No need to be rude. We’re supposed to be a team here. It wouldn’t be right if I just let you hide out and waste away back here.” “Why not. You have my body, what else do you want?” Arthur finds and tries the handle, jiggling it about. It is stuck fast. Funny, this door didn’t have a lock in the real world. Arthur could just scream. “Our body. OUR.” The demon stands, chucking the screwdriver down. The screwdriver’s blue handle turns grey like the rest of the environment, and it clanks once on the desk before freezing. “In all honestly? I get lonely, driving around all by myself. Being stuck in a cave for a century or two will do that to a guy. Sure, the whingeing is a little annoying, but hey, what’s a road trip without friends.” “You killed...” He swallows the sentence. It’s too painful to say. “We are not friends.” “Ouch.” The demon stalks closer, green eyes flashing, “Now that one really hurt…” Arthur stills, dread growing exponentially. The room suddenly feels tiny and very constricting, like it is shrinking in on him, forcing the two of them closer together. “…and after all the fun we’ve had. That’s despite exceptional levels of restraint on my part. I’ve killed, what, two or three people? That’s nothing.” They are now a half meter a part, and, despite being almost identical, the demon looms up over him. “Take it from the expert. This,” A loose but pointed gesture towards the frozen memory of his Uncle, “can always get worse. For instance, Lew’s family, I can kill them quickly or slowly. I’m leaning towards quick, more time to hit the road, but hey if I need to prove a point…” “NO!” “…I will.” Arthur’s yell bounces abnormally around the empty workshop. In attempting to inch along the wall and give himself room, he has managed to back himself into a corner between two shelving units. Now, he’s boxed in with the doppelganger standing far to close. Body language nonchalant, at odds with an unnaturally blank expression, the threat hangs in the silence. “So enough of this. How about you join me up front." A hand is extended, accompanied by an abrupt smile. Green eyes half-closed with delight it sings, “It’s what you’ve always wanted.” Yeah, when he was with his friends and having fun maybe he had once wished to spend more time up front driving with Lewis and Vivi. After all this, it seemed so dumb to want something that stupid. Arthur studies the ground, stalling, increasingly dismayed. The grey concrete is speckled with small pot-marks from where he or his Uncle have dropped tools or equipment. What he doesn’t want is to be subjected to strange emotions or stuck with his own thoughts, trapped, watching this thing continue to rip his life apart. When had wanting anything ever worked out well for him? Not like this decision mattered anyway. It was just an illusion of choice. The demon could pull Arthur out any time it wanted. His hand twitches up. Obviously, he’s moving too slow, because there is a sigh of inflated irritation. A hand slaps over his wrist. Before Arthur can flinch, the world dissolves. There is a yanking sensation, then light, sound, and smell return. The van materialises around him. The seats are firm, indented from use, there is the lingering smell of greasy food, and sound of an idling engine. Arthur is briefly stunned into non-thought, mind running a blank, while he deals with the stimulation onslaught alongside a disorientating deluge of conflicting foreign emotions. Of course, after he acclimatises, the despair it right there to swallow him up again. Hopelessness is a heady darkness, eating him up, leaving him with barely a coherent thought. It makes him tired. Dully, Arthur notes their location as they turn onto the highway, having just been stopped in a rest area. Nice to know he’d been enough of an inconvenience that the demon had needed to pull over and fish Arthur out of his memories. An inconvenience. That was the extent of his ability. Story of his pathetic life. While Arthur wallows in his failures, he idly notes the road as it curves ahead, recognising a collection of stone bluffs passing on the right. He knows this section of highway. They are on their way to Kingsman Mechanics. Home or to what was once his home. Maybe, if he unexpectedly tries to wrestle for control at just the right moment- perhaps on the tricky turn coming up, -he can send the van flying. Take them both out. At this point, Arthur is willing to try anything to save Lewis’s family. Road safety be damned. The road dips down into a tight turn. Arthur tracks the van’s progress. Right on the road’s bend, Arthur throws his weight against the nothing and space restraining him, trying to get some response. He, maybe, manages to freeze the body for a millisecond before getting shoved aside with disgusting ease.   “You know. If this body dies, I’ll still be here. You’ll be gone for good though,” The demon comments conversationally, shrugging their shoulders in a ‘what can you do’ movement. ‘Bet there’s a reason you don’t ride around in a possessed corpse.’  Another failure. Add it to the list. “Aside from the fact that I have standards.” A laugh. “I mean, hey, one of us needs to.” More amusement at his expense. Arthur winces and doesn’t bother engaging further, choosing instead to sink down and wrap himself in his blanket of misery. His only consolation is that this pain is all him and not the demon. The demon is still feeling a mix of satisfaction and enjoyment. Small potatoes when put up against his own overwhelming desolation. When it comes to negative emotions, even without his body, Arthur has the bastard beat. It is not much of a consolation.

Part 30: here

[guttersvillemayor]

Out Of The Darkness, Into The Fire

[I had been right. The next morning I awoke to messages from Nicole and Jared. Jared’s were apologetic which I didn’t believe for a second, and Nikki’s were angry wondering what the hell had happened. Frankly I didn’t want to talk to either of them, and today was one of the few days that someone came to sit with Sarah giving me a chance to get out and not have to worry about my ill great-aunt. Rebecca was a nurse Jared’s age who worked at a nearby hospital. She was part of the coven, though not as involved as most. She was sweet and gladly offered her time to sit with Sarah in exchange for simple things like herbs and such that the Warren family had been growing in our backyard for generations. I would have given them to her regardless but I wasn’t going to turn down the free help. 

I said my goodbyes to Rebecca and Sarah before heading out the door with my tote bag. I was going someplace I didn’t normally, but I knew it was a place that Jared and Nikki wouldn’t think to find me. The only person who knew about it was Sarah but I knew she would tell them if they came by looking for me today. I’d have to explain things with Jared from last night with her when she was having a good moment, but for now I just wanted to be alone. The drive to Winter Island doesn’t take long, but I generally don’t park close to the shore so the walk to the lighthouse takes a few minutes. Putting my headphones in, I play some music as I make the trek through trees and over rocks until I reach the path to the lighthouse. 

People aren’t really allowed on the structure so I’ve taken to sneaking across the rocky path up to the lighthouse all with the thanks of a spell I found when I first started learning. It took perfect timing, such as the power of the full moon which hung in the sky. The white orb visible at mid-day. It happened once a month and thankfully Rebecca never questioned the timing. My fingers come up to touch the pendant of my necklace. It was one of the few gifts I had gotten from my parents, well more like inherited. It had been in their safety deposit box waiting for my 18th birthday. I’d seen it a few times before they died. My mother would show it to me every once in a while, telling me that this was special and belonged to me but not until I was old enough. My parents always worried about me growing up too fast. And in the end they’d never see the woman I’d grow up to be. A solitary tear fell down my cheek and I quickly brushed it aside as I glanced back up at the moon.] Luna, scutum me in tua luce. Permitte me esse umbra noctem. 

[The familiar surge of energy rushed through me and I knew I was now hidden from others sight. As I walked across the path to the lighthouse, I remembered the first time I used it and freaked Sarah out. She thought I’d been kidnapped or something. Until she saw the spell book open on my bed. I was grounded for almost a month and didn’t get to learn anything new during that time. Coming up to the lighthouse, I placed my hand against the stone building. It was one of the few places in Salem that felt like home. I was brought here by Sarah when I first came to town, she told me that the light would always shine on me and let me know that my parents were watching over me. It was comforting and ever since then I felt closest to them sitting here. I easily climbing up to the lookout and sat in my normal spot. Legs hanging over the ledge as my body hung against the bars acting as a guardrail. 

It was out here that I first got a true taste of my power. Kicking up a wind storm that created horrible surf conditions. Now with a flick of my hand I could do even more than that. Thinking back to the last time I used my powers I’m reminded of my ’date’ with Jared. I’d be lying if there wasn’t a time that I was interested. But now it felt forced, like I was more of a prize than someone he truly cares for. Sure the Warren and Lewis families went way back, as I’m told repeatedly. But family history didn’t mean that I was going to just throw myself at his feet. I honestly thought that Nikki was perfect for Jared, but she always denied it vehemently when I suggested it. 

My head began to ache as I continued to go over everything in my mind and I had come out here to gain peace. Closing my eyes, I take the headphones out of my ears and listen to the crashing of the waves. Taking a few calming breaths until the pounding in my temples started to fade away and I could reopen my eyes.  The water was truly beautiful today, and the wind whipping around me every so often. Tranquil, peaceful. Not realizing how horrible a night’s sleep I got before, I began to start yawning, shaking my head to keep myself alert. Napping here wasn’t something I was against, but letting my guard down was never a good idea. 

After a few more minutes sleep was hard to deny, and I stopped fighting as I rested my head sideways against the upper bar. I don’t know how long I slept, but when I opened my eyes next the sun was almost done setting. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and glanced around dazed. Hours of time had slipped away from me and I still had actual errands to run. Quickly climbing down from the lighthouse, I made my way back to the shore, whispering the uncloaking spell as I did so.] Gratias ad lunae lumen enim protegens me. Non abscondam me ex mundo. Benedictus eritis. 

[I would need to get home soon to relieve Rebecca and start dinner, but first I needed to stop by the market and grab some items. All my other errands would have to wait till tomorrow. Pearce’s Market was a family run store, mainly regular groceries and such but the Pearces had started out selling herbs and such generations ago. They were part of the coven too, their children around my own age but I wasn’t as close to them. Stepping into the store, I reminded myself that I only need a few items. I’d come back to do more shopping later. First I picked up some locally caught shrimp, before heading to the produce section to grab some of Aunt Sarah’s favorite sides like asparagus and tomatoes. I was thinking of making one of my risotto dishes that she’d always liked when a shadow fell over the onions in front of me. 

Turning slightly, I looked up to Jared. My eyebrows furrowed a bit as to why he’d come to see me. After last night I was convinced he’d give me some space and yet here he was. “Hey, Tempest.” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. This didn’t seem like the Jared I knew at all. But I couldn’t find it in me to tell him off. That however didn’t stop him from thinking I would. “Look, I know that last night was a disaster and I don’t know what the hell came over me. I just really like you and figured you’d want me to be upfront about it. Dominating or something like that.” He trails off and chuckles nervously again. “I got some bad advice on how to impress you and I was hoping that maybe you’d give me another chance… Please?” 

I bite my lip unsure as to what the hell was going on. Just last night I told Jared that I felt nothing but annoyance in regards to him. But here I was feeling something. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was new and apparently tied to Jared. My gaze met his and it just intensified the feeling until I just started to nod. Frozen silent at having agreed to a round two, but I couldn’t help but want to spend more time with him now. Maybe Nikki was right and I hadn’t truly given Jared a chance. A wide smile graced his lips as he leaned over and brushed a soft kiss onto my cheek, causing a shiver to run down my spine. This was definitely new and something I’d be cautious in exploring. 

“Great, how bout we go out for lunch later this week? I’ll text you about it tomorrow?” I opened my mouth to respond but I couldn’t figure out what the hell to say so I simply nodded again before grabbing an onion.] I’ve gotta get home now. [Those are the only words that escape my lips as I turn away from Jared and head to the checkout counter. I wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened, but unlike last time an almost foreign part of me felt excited about going on a date with Jared.]