#fixed teeth in budapest

[trans-corvo]

things I'm going to do when I'm finally done school and am settled into a job (be it in academia, an archive, or the produce department) and have some money saved.

Get a nice, small apartment of my own if in the city, or maybe a mobile home if I'm somewhere rural. Somewhere I can stay for the long term and get real comfortable in. With art prints on the wall and a ton of book shelves

Get dental implants for the 4 teeth I had to get pulled because depression ruins everything. Actually just getting my teeth fixed in general

Solo road trip down to LA through the Rockies, and then back up the coast. Taking my sweet time and stopping to swim in every body of water I pass.

Take up sewing (no space and no time rn)

See central/eastern Europe. Berlin, Budapest, the Croatian coast, Istanbul. Need to brush up on a few languages for that first, I don't like the idea of traveling too many places where I can't speak at least the basics. I'm taking German classes right now, but I also want to get some basic Hungarian for school.

Actually, on that note, I really want to just keep learning new languages. I had a terrible time in french immersion when I was a kid but I'm genuinely having so much fun learning german at the moment. I think the second language might be the hardest to learn, because a ton of the shit that threw me through a loop with french feels really obvious now.

and if I end of somewhere even remotely rural: get chickens.

[hungarydental]

What is a Tooth Implant and what are The Types of Implants?

Tooth implants or dental implants can be understood as simply anchors or components which support the dental prosthetic like crown or denture while they are being fit into the tooth. Further simplifying, one needs a foundation to build the prosthetic tooth component on, while that foundation needs to be compatible with tooth density, structure etc. so that the prosthesis stays without damage or coming off quickly. These foundations are called tooth implants.

They are made up on Titanium and some specific types of ceramics, which have been found to build a strong joint with natural tooth components (the process is called Osseo integration) and are inert too, making the combination the most preferred material at the hands of dental scientists.

The major types of implants can be studies as follows:

On the basis of fixing technique – They can be of two types –

a)      Endosteal Implants which are directly fitted into the jaw bone, which can be connected to a post in another procedure, after the implant site has healed. They are also called root form implants. They resemble the shape and form of the natural tooth and have “roots” that go right into the gum tissue and connect to the bone to form an almost- natural bond. The screw-like tail helps stabilize the root inside the gum and it is fitted under local anesthesia as it is a slightly invasive surgical procedure. Next, the prosthetic tooth is fitted on the post. Tooth Implants Provide more than one tooth needs to be put in, it can be clubbed on a bridge or a denture can be created and fixed over the post. Another variation of the same is the plate – form implant which is used when the width of the jawbone is too small for the “root” of the implant to go in, so a narrow “plate” is fitted on the jawbone (under the tissue) directly. Eventually, the tissue of the gums surrounds the plate and makes it secure.

b)      Sub periosteal Implants which are placed beneath the tissues of gums (thus the name, “sub” refers to “below/beneath”) and they sit on the metal frame. The posts protrude up from the gum tissue and the teeth can be fixed on these posts.

About Us - Hungary Dental Implant the leading dental implantology in London and Budapest provide most effective and gentle dental services to patients. The clinic is renowned with best Hungarian surgeon who hold finest experience in dental services.

[polksaladbutler]

LUCKY

austin butler oneshot

warnings: fluff, petnames, slight mention of model!y/n, smut, overstimulation, orgasm denial (?), really bad writing pls cut me some slack lol

a/n: im so sorry if the writing is bad, im not good at lengthy fics especially when it’s smut in it. pls give me some tips! thank you so much <3

wc: 3.3K

you woke up to the noises of typing on the keyboard. before you could even tell where you were, you shouted out austin’s name. “yes y/n” “where are you..?” “beside you.” he chuckled. still half asleep, you turned your body towards him. he was typing some kind of email, whatever it was, it must’ve been for his work. you could barely even keep your eyes open. “go back to sleep~ it’s early.” he found your hand and planted a kiss on the top of it.

you stretched your arms out and groaned. “noooo i promised that we would spend our last day together having fun! like a bunch of fun.” you whined as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “i would be having just as much fun spending the day in bed with you.” he smiled while finishing up his email. “you’re so boring!” you laughed, finally you sat up to fully wake up. you looked at him and just stared in awe, he looked so handsome especially with the sun beaming on his tan soft skin.

he noticed you were gazing at him “you know, photos last longer.” he smirked and closed his laptop and put it on the coffee table that was on the side of the bed. “shut up” you playfully roll your eyes. “— i want to hang out today! you’ll be leaving me all by myself for god knows how long.”you declared, he was going to film some scenes for the second part of dune in budapest.

you just started dating austin shortly after he finished the filming of elvis. ever since then it’s been amazing. sure the interviews and events got in the way but at the end of the day, you were the one he came home to, but being far away from him, was a little more extreme than what you were you used to.

“i’m gonna take a shower.” you smiled as you got up out of bed and walked over to the closet. you picked out a semi-skin tight brown shirt, army green shorts, and your pretty pair of undergarments that you bought for yourself a few weeks back.

you walked to the bathroom and showered. you put on all of the necessities that you would after you’ve taken a shower. you got dressed in the clothes you picked out earlier. after that was all done you brushed your teeth and fixed up your hair. you put some concealer and mascara on, then topped it all off with perfume.

you walked out of the bathroom, you spotted austin all dressed and ready to go. “what happened to staying in bed all day?” you laughed walking towards him. “i decided, i couldn’t let you go out having fun all by yourself!” he said. you walked close to him, smelling the cologne you loved. “im kind of offended that you used the other shower instead of joining me…”you fake pouted. “you’ll be alright” he kissed your forehead and softly tapped your ass. “will i?” you giggled as you followed him out of the room.

you ran to where the keys were, “you’re driving!” you announced, grabbing the keys and placing them in his hands. “this day is supposed to be fun.” he said jokingly. he walked to the car, noticing that you were waiting for him to open the door. “you should have used the keys to open the door. instead of making me drive!” he began walking slower than before, checking his clothes for any fuzz on it and took his time to look at the flowers that were growing in the front yard. “austin im going to gouge your eyes out with my own two hands.” you stomped over and pushed him to the driver side door, you placed your hand on the handle and unlocked the car.

“thank you austin!” you teased, walking over to the other side of the car and got in. you put on your seatbelt and plugged your phone into the car. “what do you think you’re doing?” “huh?” “i control the music since im driving.” he grinned. you unplugged your phone and handed the cord to him. “where to first?” he plugged his phone in.

“whatever restaurant you want to go to. im hungry.” he nodded and backed out of the driveway.

you couldn’t help but look at him once again. the sunkissed combo couldn’t be beat. plus he was driving with one hand, which made him a trillion times hotter. he was dressed in an off-white button up with a wife beater under it, with black pants being held up with a black belt. to top it all off he had his black heeled boots on. “remember what i told you earlier about a picture?” “you know what, as a matter of fact i will!” you pulled out your phone and took a photo of him, multiple photos. “you are so handsome.”

he drove to the république café bakery, the place where you had your first date. it’s a french bakery, a place where you allowed yourself to feel like a snob nosed rich person.

“how’d you know i wanted to go here?” you smiled. “i just know my girl.” he leaned over to kiss your face. he walked out of the car and open the door for you. there were a few paparazzi out, you just kept your head down and didn’t look at any cameras. even though a lot of people knew about you two, the media likes to emphasize and the last thing you need right now is some emphasized media bullshit. you weren’t that used to paparazzi, most people don’t want photos of models in public unless they are eating something unhealthy or out with a more bigger celebrity.

“im sorry” he sighed as he opened the door for you. “don’t apologize aus. you’re irresistible, especially in that outfit.” you walked by him.

“hi, just two?” the waitress smiled. “yes ma’am” he answered back. he was always so polite. you both sat down and ordered your food.

“what do you plan on doing today?” he said with a mouth full of waffles. “don’t talk with your mouth full.” “you don’t talk with your mouth full.” he mocked you. “real mature.” you giggled, rolling your eyes. “— i was thinking about going to the grammy museum, then ice cream. i don’t wanna wear you out.” you smiled. “and why is that?” he smirked. “don’t ask questions!”

you both finished your food and got back in the car. “this better be worth it y/n, this place is one hell of a drive. you better be lucky im in love with you.” he put the directions on his gps and drove off. “it will be worth it!”

he was right, it was a hell of a drive, you fell asleep in the car. “babe, we’re here” you raised your head up and wiped the slobber coming from the side of your mouth. “you were snoring” he teases, unbuckling his seatbelt. “was not!” yes you were. he onced again opened the door for you and watched you get out the car. a lot of people stopped in their tracks, probably because they saw austin butler, he’d been everywhere lately, it’s super hard to miss him.

not too many people were asking to take photos with you however, again, people weren’t as fond of models than they were actors. you’re sure they took pictures of you holding his hand or something of that matter. you got inside and waited in line to purchase your tickets.

you walked through a bunch of different areas in the museum, seeing clips of artist accept awards, a literal grammy right in front of you, iconic artist outfits and of course, austin’s favorite, elvis.

“oh wow. elvis looks so handsome here!” you watched a few videos on a tiny screen that was playing his concerts. “oh shit didn’t you wear something like this? this is amazing!” you pointed to the 68’ comeback special outfit. he couldn’t get a word out because you just kept gawking about elvis, he didn’t mind it though.

“wait lemme get a picture of you in front of it!” you ran over to austin and scooted him to the elvis panel, you must’ve taken ten photos. “alright we can move on now.” you smiled.

you looked around more, saw some more iconic outfits and listened to more music. you discovered these instruments you could play. “does this piano work?” you pressed a few keys as a gasped left your lips, surprised that the piano actually worked. you adjusted the seat and sat in front of the piano, you looked back at austin. “i’m gonna play something that’s so grammy worthy, they’ll put me in this museum”

you cleared your throat and began singing“ohhh my love~” you weren’t playing the keys right at all. he started recording you without you even knowing. “my darling, i hunger for your touch. a long… lonely time… honestly i think i should’ve auditioned for elvis. i probably would’ve been your understudy” you patted your own back, jokingly. “i don’t know about that one.” he laughed and tucked his phone in his back pocket.

you and austin finished looking around and were ready to go to get ice cream. plus your legs were really tired. you painfully walked back to the car. “i workout every day and my legs hurt from walking for like an hour… why?!” you whined. he just laughed at you. “just go back to sleep, your legs will feel better.” he placed his hand on your thigh. “k…” you smiled and leaned back and went to sleep.

before you know it, you’re back home. “what about the ice cream?” you mumbled. “we can go out again. come on let’s take a nap.” he unbuckled his and yours seatbelt. you got out the car and got in the house. then both of you fell asleep on the couch.

“hey, i made us something to eat. i got ice cream from the store, don’t worry. i got popsicles too but they aren’t froze yet.” he leaned over the couch and kissed your face. “it smells good” “you should come and try it, it taste as good as it smells.” he announced from the kitchen.

you slowly got off the couch and walked to the kitchen. he had made cooked salmon and white rice. “oh my, we’ve got a chef… maybe you should just stay and cook for me.” you smiled sitting down across from him. “i’ll think about it.” he smiled back.

it was moments like this where you just couldn’t believe how blessed you were to be with austin. he was everything a girl wanted. the definition of boyfriend material right in front of you and he was all yours. though, you were worried about his projects getting in the way. you could barely handle the interviews, events, and constant traveling. what’s it gonna be like when he’s in different states, countries, even a different continent?

he told you not to worry, he told you that if it gets too bad, he’d come back for a break. you didn’t want him to just take a break just because you missed him. you told him you’d be fine. when you weren’t but you understood it’s work, not a side hobby. this is his job, not an activity anybody could do.

“you okay?” “yeah! im just, thinking.” you smiled, finishing your meal. “this was really good aus, thank you.” you got up from your seat, austin did the same. you took his plate and washed it, then put it away.

austin followed you up stairs and to the room. “damn we aren’t gonna be able to sleep, we already took a long ass nap.” you mentioned while fixing the bed up. “gives me more time with you before i leave.” he hugged you from behind, swaying your bodies. this man was so in love with you, he didn’t even care about sleepless nights as long as you were there.

“alright, i gotta change into my pajamas.” you laughed, removing austin’s arms from your waist. you walked into the bathroom and took your clothes off and put it in the hamper. since you already were in the bathroom, you brushed your teeth and put your hair up.

you accidentally forgot to grab your pajamas before you went to the bathroom, you walked out back into the bedroom in your new pair of intimates, ones that austin didn’t know about. “when did you buy those.” his eyes were glued to your body. “a few weeks ago.” you answered. “where was i?” “being interviewed i think.” you decided not to get any pajamas and just got into the bed.

he still couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “take a picture, it’ll last longer.” you chuckled. “im taking a mental picture, don’t worry.” he smirked. you sat up in bed scrolling on your phone, with your cleavage on full display. austin took quick looks at your body. “hey let’s watch a movie, your pick.” you smiled. “ferris bueller?” “you know me so well.”

you laid on austin’s chest, in between his legs as he slid his fingers up and down your waist. it was silent between the both of you, the only noises were from the movie, you contemplated on if you should say something or keep letting silence fill the room.

“im gonna miss you so much.” you said while you drew swirls on his chest with your finger. “im gonna miss you too, i’ll make sure to text and call you whenever i can.” he whispered. “i’ll make sure to answer.” you looked up, into austin’s eyes as he looked down at yours. god you couldn’t take it anymore.

you lift your body up to kiss him. you move your hand from his chest to cup his face. austin kept his hand on your waist, but his grip was a bit stronger. you moved on top but never removed your lips from him. “you don’t know what these things are doing to me.” austin took a breath, he toyed with the ends of your panties.

he pushed you up so he had more access to your chest. he pulled down your bra straps and moved your bra down to your waist. he kissed your exposed breast, focusing on one with his mouth and the other with his hand. his tongue flicked over your nipple rapidly. “mmm” you purred while you threw your head back while your hands are on his shoulders. his hand played with your breast, gently squeezing it. you pushed yourself from him. “what’s wrong?”

“let me please you” you smiled. “but-“ you shut him up with a sensual kiss then moved down on his body, leaving love marks on his neck and chest. listening to the hums he gave in response.

“i’m gonna need to cover those up before i go.” he smiles while rubbing the side of your face with his thumb. you played with the waistband of his boxers and rubbed him through the fabric.

hesitant, you slowly remove his boxers, revealing his semi-hard cock. he exhaled softly, bracing himself. “is this okay?” you looked at him through your eyelashes. “yeah baby.” he whispered in a low voice. you began stroking his length, preparing both you and him. your lips parted around him, austin couldn’t help but bite his bottom lip, lightly tugging at your hair. you swirled your tongue around his head. he moaned softly in response to your actions. “so good” he breathed.

you hollowed your cheeks and made eye contact with you. austin could barely keep his mind straight, as much as he wanted to look at you, it felt too good to maintain eye contact.

“y/n- i’m… please keep going.” he groaned, keeping his hand lightly on your head, still pulling at your hair. he bucked his hips up causing you to gag a little. “sorry…” “don’t worry bout it baby. i know that im making you feel good.” you placed his cock back in your mouth. using your hands and mouth. “fuck baby~” he gripped your hair tighter and pushed your head down as his warm essence flowed down your throat.

“shit.” he breathed. “lay on your back.” he demanded. you listened and laid down. “i don’t even wanna remove these. they look so pretty on your body.” he smirked, he carefully removed your lace panties and put them off to the side.

“so pretty…” he said lowly. he kissed your thighs and moved inwards from there. his lips finally met your folds, he glided his tongue up your slit and sucked on your clit. you gasped, you didn’t know what to do with your hands. you put one of your hands through his hair and bit your finger on the other.

he traced your slit with his finger, he slowly placed his finger inside you. your back arched and you grabbed the sheets. he held your hips down with one hand as he used the other to finger you. you moaned from the pained pleasure. “g’faster.” you plead to austin. “you sure angel?” “mhm.” you nodded your head quickly.

he went faster, he added a second finger, as well as going back to swirling and sucking on your bud. he hummed on your pussy, sending a vibration up your body.

he removed his mouth and switched the fingers he was using from pointer and middle to middle and ring finger. “please keep going aus… i’m… s’close.”

his fingers went faster, your eyes were closed shut tight. “aus.” everything suddenly stopped, no more pleasure, no more pain, just a remain of pent up need for austin. “why’d… why’d you stop” you panted. “i don’t want you to cum yet…”

he positioned himself in front of you, he spit on his hand and stroked himself a few times. he massaged your slit with his tip before slowly inserting himself inside of you. it was a slight burn feeling when he fit all of his length inside you.

he rocked his hips, going in and out of you. he set the pace, trying his best not to hurt you. you were still very sensitive. once you got used to the pain, it melted into pleasure.

austin began to pick up the pace, grinding a little more harder into you. hitting your g-spot just right. austin put his head in the crook of your neck. you scratched his back, he was hitting all the right spots that he knew drove you insane. “right there… please go… fas-ter.” your thoughts were scattered, he did as requested.

your hands grabbed his arms, unintentionally pushing his arms back making his arms slide. he got your hands off of him and restrained your hands by pinning them down on the bed.

your walls clenched around austin and you started seeing stars. austin started placing hickeys on your neck while thrusting faster and deeper into you. “you’re doing so good… taking me… so well.” he softly spoke in your ear, his praise was like music.

“it feels so good.” you slurred your words, trying to gain eyesight once again. “yeah?” he smirked against your skin. he barely removed himself out of you, he continuously rolled his hips against you. more mumbled curses and pleads fell from your lips.

“i can’t- im gonna come…” “go ahead baby.” he said. just like that a wave of bliss rushed over you. it was all over, for about 15 seconds.

austin buried his face in between your thighs in a matter of seconds.

“aus- what are you-“ your words were cut off by a choked moan. “you just taste s’good” he mumbled on your heat. your eyes rolled back as you jolted your hips up and grabbed his hair. you felt your stomach tight and warm salty tears ran down your face, as you dissolved into your next climax. “you’re such a good girl…” austin kissed your face.

your breath was heavy, he kissed your forehead. “i love you so much.”

“love you too, aus.”

[wcrstarter]

No filter - for Keigo? C8

ꜱᴇɴᴅ ɴᴏ ꜰɪʟᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏɴᴊᴀ ᴛᴏ

ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ ᴄᴀɴᴅɪᴅʟʏ// @iiryoku

Valka, one of Sonja's friends from back home had come out to Japan to check in on her. She'd only come here for a short while, for a brief mission. And yet she had remained, ignoring emails from the Hungarian HSPC and her father alike all requesting she return 'home' to Budapest. Valka was one of the few she had chosen to remain in contact with, and the only one who had been clever enough to guess there had to be a someone to make her more inclined to blow off work entirely. Her friend was also clever enough to know to ply Sonja with plenty of vodka to loosen her tongue, and blow off some steam together.

Both of them had worked as underground heroes, both had seen how broken the system was. They each had their own reasons for wanting to defect, but what other options were there? How could it all be fixed? Mutant quirk users faced some of the harshest discriminations, even Sonja had in school despite who her father was.

Valka was one of her oldest and closest friends, and one that knew well enough it would only take the right offer from the right person for Sonja to turn her back on everything--she was long tired of being caged up. With Keigo she was freer than ever and she liked the feeling of it, just as much as she enjoyed being around him.

Valka had taken one look at the hickies on Sonja's neck and shoulders and known there had to be a someone, Sonja had allowed her oldest friend to crow about it for some time. Besides, this was the same bar she'd run into Keigo, she'd become fond of the establishment because of it.

"Fine, you win, yes there's someone that's caught my eye. Imagine the most beautiful man you've ever met. Now picture that he's got a stunning set of feathers himself, beautiful red hawk wings. Claws like your own and mmn...sharp teeth to boot." She began, swaying a little and having her wings fanned open slightly to correct her balance. The raveness was grinning, not at all abashed despite her friend's heckling.

"He's so pretty Valka, pretty and delightfully dangerous. Do you know how many other winged quirk users I've met? I've never run into another predator, none that are like him. Some would be....well most would be terrified of him. But both of us know our hands aren't clean of blood either." Sonja wouldn't give her friend his name, nor speak it here. Anyone that knew of Keigo's reputation tended to become very nervous, and Sonja had considered entirely defecting much more often lately. "It's refreshing to be around another bird mutant, someone who doesn't repress those instincts and doesn't mind if I don't. He's pretty, have I mentioned how pretty he is? He can be an utter bastard, but he's incredibly intelligent and capable in a fight. His quirk is fascinating, his feathers can sharpen. His eyes are golden as well."

She rolls her eyes at her friend, taking the teasing and bristling her feathers in mock offence. Valka didn't need to know that Sonja was quite besotted with one of the most dangerous men in Japan, or that she had no personal qualms about how many he had killed. Hell, she'd help if he asked. Few thought about just how dangerous she could be, that she'd lured in 'villains' before using her vocal mimicry talents to make it sound as if their colleagues or loved ones where calling out to them.

The raveness throws back another shot, pretending she doesn't know or care that her words will get back to Keigo and flatter his ego. He was a beautiful man, a beautiful sharp toothed man, with a gorgeous set of wings of his own. She'd flatter him whenever she liked, thank you very much.

"And yes, he is good in bed. Don't tell me you're in a dry spell again, and want to live vicariously through me. What happened to that girl you were seeing hmn? Its your turn to spill Valka, I'm not telling you if I have or have not joined the mile high club."

[erzherzog-von-edelstein]

The End of Empire

Characters: Austria

Summary: Austria is left without an empire after the end of the First World War. Alone and disabled by his tremendous losses, he struggles to find normalcy again, and reflects on how he could have acted differently to change the way his empire ended.

Word Count: 1.1K

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Austria awoke in pain. He had awoken in pain every day in the past year. His every joint seemed to be searingly painful. Fighting the war had been hard enough on his body, but this was a deeper pain. Losing almost all the land he had once help had taken a toll he never could have imagined.

The doctor had said that if he was human, he would have doubted whether he could walk again. His nerves were punishing him like he had lost limbs, even if he could see his legs when he threw back the blankets.

He had spent the last half of a year without the use of them. But, he was determined that he would regain it. He sat up with a small sigh at the effort.

Then he reached over and pushed the curtain open as far as it would go. A bright sliver cut through the room. He should have installed electricity in this room, he thought grudgingly.

Before there would have been servants and people to open the curtains at this hour. But that was gone now. He had to do it for himself. No one was going to serve a little republic. Just a rump state of the once great empire, nothing more.

He reached out and took hold of the head of the cane that he kept next to the bed. It was a plain thing, just polished wood. But, it was better than a wheelchair.

He swung his legs off of the edge of the bed. He tried to flex his feet as they touched the floor. They moved sluggishly, but he took the reaction as encouraging. He could feel the coldness of the floor under his bare feet, which he knew should also take as a good sign. Feeling and movement was returning, so he must be healing.

He gritted his teeth and stood up. For a moment, he felt like his legs would not hold him. But, he pushed up on the cane, which was enough to keep him standing. He clenched his jaw against the pain.

If he could live as an empire for so long, then he could learn to do this. He would walk again. There was strength left in him yet, and he would nurture it. He would walk the streets of his capital. He would go to a coffeehouse and have coffee and apple strudel as he did before. Such a small thing, but so precious to him. He was determined to regain his normalcy.

He took a step, leaning heavily on the cane. It was painful, but he took a step, and then another. He fixed his eyes on his goal: A comfortable armchair on the other side of the room. If he could reach it, then he could let himself rest. It was not much, he knew, but it was enough to force himself to walk. His legs would never get stronger if he did not.

He made it to the chair, and collapsed into it with a grunt of effort. If he asked, he was sure that he could get morphine, but he refused to let himself be comfortable. When he thought on it, he could only conclude that his own complacency that had gotten here.

There must have been something that he could have done to prevent this. So many questions came to mind.

Could he have been kinder to Elizabeth? The Kaiserin who was such a strange bird, who flew away from Vienna whenever she could. It made her sick she always said, and Franz Joseph had loved her too much to force her to return. Had he driven her so far away? Had he expected too much of an eccentric woman?

Could he have spared more time for Rudolph? The Crown Prince who had always been moody and combative. Would a sympathetic ear have saved him from himself?

Could he have satisfied Maximilian’s ambitions, so he didn’t have to take the poisoned crown of Mexico. He had run so willingly to a country who was known for his flighty love affair with republicanism, and it had cost him his life. Could Austria have done more to keep him in Vienna where he belonged? Had he been too gentle when he warned him against Mexico? Could he have not been blunter about Mexico’s unreliable nature? Had Maximilian not known how much he meant to his brother?

The maelstrom of questions continued in his mind, suggesting all the steps he could have taken to save the empire.

Could he had done something to warn Ferdinand of the danger? Had he even known it himself?

Could he have prepared Karl for the throne in such a short time?

The questions began to fade in favor of a series of images that had played in his head over and over again since the end of the war. The tragedy of the house that he had loved so well since he was a young man.

A little girl named for her grandmother cold in her bed in Budapest.

Two bodies in a hunting lodge in Mayerling.

A place on the outskirts of Querétaro that he had never seen.

A busy promenade in Geneva.

The blood stained seats of a car in Sarajevo.

And the last, always the most tragic: His dearest emperor, taking his last labored breaths.

Austria was sure that he would always clearly remember how Franz Josef had summoned him to his bedside in those final moments. How he had taken the hand of the man who had been his emperor for 68 years, and heard those last words meant just for him.

He repeated them under his breath, “Save the empire, Roderich, if you can. Save it.”

He felt the tears come, as they always did when he thought about that moment. He had done what he could, and fought until he no longer could. But he felt the heavy burden of regret. He had failed his Kaiser in that one last thing.

He felt a tear roll down his cheek. He wished that he had at least been able to keep the empire for Franz Josef, as one last act of love for his dearest emperor. Austria knew he had cried too much for the empire, but he could not help it. The loss felt monumental and existential. He did not know who he was without it.

There was a knock on the door that broke the cycle of Austria’s thoughts. One of the remaining butlers opened the door and said shortly, “Prussia is here to see you.”

Austria stared for a moment in disbelief. Was he here to provide comfort or mockery? The only way to be sure was to see what he wanted. Austria nodded, “Tell him that I will see him.”

[bang-and-a-blintz]

Through the Darkness

CHAPTER EIGHT - TWELFTH NIGHT

I am terribly sorry this took so damn long to update. With everything going on right now, writing about having fun in Nola feels akin to writing about a lost loved one, but I’m trying to make it cathartic. I just miss the good ol’ days before the Plague States. Oh well. Here’s an extra long chapter for the wait!

Cheers!

Fandom: Dracula (2020)  

Relationship: Dracula/Roxana(OFC)  

Rating: Mature  

Warnings: TW bloooooooood  

Word Count: 6,770

Sanguine looked different in the daylight. The shadows in which it hid were not so prominent underneath the bright sun. Dracula took notice of how well the dark tones of the exterior blended with the hanging branches of the oak trees. It wasn't as foreboding in the gentle light. In fact, it was actually oddly comforting; there was something reassuring in its darkness.

Dracula took a deep breath, if only just to smell the jasmine flowers lingering in the air, and smiled. He leisurely strolled down the crooked sidewalk towards the restaurant. He didn't know if she was there nor did he think of if they were even open; he just went ahead and made his way to the entrance, taking the unlocked doors as a good enough invitation. Not that it was important or anything, but he had already been welcomed in previously. It was more of an attempt to be polite, common courtesy, and…dare he even think it, kindness.

Perhaps eating people in the South was starting to rub off on him. Though, he was irrevocably grateful not to accumulate the accent.

Silently, he entered the establishment. The front entry was dark but there was a sweet aroma wafting from the kitchen and he could hear the sound of music playing softly in the background.

She must be cooking.

The music grew louder as Dracula made his way towards the back, pausing at the doorway. Her back was to him, she was swaying back and forth, fixing up some sort of dessert, and blissfully ignorant to the creature of the night that crept up behind her.

"Smells delicious." He commented lightly, leaning against the door jam. Roxana jumped and gave a strangled yelp, spinning around with wide eyes. She held the sifter up like a weapon, the powdered sugar that she had been using was now spattered all over her. Once she saw the owner of the voice, however, her face dropped into that of a furious glare.

"For fuck's sake, Dracula!" She groaned in dismay, placing a hand on her forehead while he fought a laugh. "You need a bell."

"Perhaps if you paid more attention to your surroundings, you wouldn't be so easily startled."

Roxana sighed, "Why are you even here?"

The Count just shrugged and gave her that unnerving smile. He was bored, but he wasn't about to let her know that.

She rolled her eyes and returned to the task at hand. He made his way over to her side, curious as to what she was so focused on. Before them was a large platter filled with golden pastries of some sort, piled high, there had to have been a dozen or so. She was topping them off with a dusting of powdered sugar as they cooled.

"What's this?"

"Beignets." She spoke, refusing to look at the vampire who had moved closer. He hovered over her shoulder, perfectly content with encroaching on her personal space.

Finishing up, Roxana wiped off the counter and tried to clean the remaining sugar from her shirt. It was futile as the powder just continued to seep into the fabric. With a huff, she unbuttoned the chef jacket and tossed it in a bin, making a mental note to have it washed later.

She had been baking several batches of beignets all day. It was Twelfth Night; a special holiday in New Orleans and the only day that Roxana made these particular pastries. Every year, she would whip up a platter-full and bring them all to her favorite bar so her friends could enjoy while they celebrate together.

After washing her hands, she wrapped the platter up for transport before finally turning to address the annoying bat in the room.

"Alright, what is it?"

Dracula looked at her innocently, hands in the pockets of yet another immaculately fitted suit.

"Do you need something or are you just here to keep tabs on me?"

"I was in the neighborhood." He said with a shrug.

"You're not a very good liar."

He had the audacity to look affronted and placed a clawed hand on his chest, "Ouch."

Roxana glanced at the clock on the wall behind his head. She knew that Al would be there any minute to pick her up and she needed to get the vampire out before that happened.

"Well, as much as I adore your company, Count," She said sarcastically, looking back into his onyx gaze, "I actually have somewhere to be. So if you would, please…"

She gestured towards the door, but Dracula didn't move an inch. He just tilted his head slightly and a smile spread across his lips, just barely showing the sharp teeth beneath.

"What?" Roxana snapped, exasperated with his stare.

The Count's grin widened slightly, "It's just curious."

"What is?"

"That this time around you're a chef."

There was a pause and Roxana furrowed her brow in confusion, "I'm not sure I follow…"

He slowly circled her, taking one large step after another, like a panther stalking its prey. Not baiting him, Roxana just crossed her arms and tensely waited for him to quit his theatrics.

"You see, dearest Roxana, the first Van Helsing I came across was Sister Agatha, a rather fiery nun from a convent in Budapest, I believe it was. She was full of repressed desires, finding interest in all things darkly supernatural. Agatha was...truly one of a kind. Sharp as a knife too!"

Roxana narrowed her eyes. Was it just her or did he sound almost nostalgic?

The Count continued on with a humorless laugh, "Yes, she...ah, taught me a thing or two. But then she had to go and blow up the ship, sinking herself into the bottom of the ocean. No matter. Her spirit popped up again in the form of a Doctor. Zoe was cynical to boot. As a scientist, it made sense, for she didn't truly believe something until there was foolproof evidence."

He came to a stop in front of her and motioned to himself.

"Must've been quite the shock to see me strolling out of the depths of the dark water, hm?" He smirked.

"It'd be a shock if you could wrap up this story soon." Roxana muttered, eyeing the time.

His head tilted to the side, "Do you have somewhere you need to be?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Why not?"

She groaned, running a hand through her hair in frustration. This was going nowhere. He was nothing more than a child wearing the suit of a giant man…er, bat.

"Look, my friend is picking me up and we're going out. I would really rather not have a vampire loitering about in my restaurant. So I'd appreciate it if you would please leave, Dracula."

His eyebrows furrowed and a frown pulled at his lips; he looked like a kid who got their sno-cone knocked out of their hand on a blistering hot and humid day. She bit back her laugh at the thought.

"HAPPY TWELFTH NIGHT, BABY!" Al's shout rang loudly through the kitchen as the sound of his heavy footfalls came closer from around the corner.

Oh fuck, she thought as her eyes widened at the vampire and she instinctually grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the back door. Before she could get there, her sous-chef slash best friend let out a high-pitched squeal.

"Bitch, what! Rox, you brought back Mr. Tall, Dark, and Devilishly Handsome?!"

Roxana whipped back to face her friend who was looking between her and Dracula with a wide smirk. His eyes glanced pointedly at her hand clutching onto the vampire's arm and she ripped it away as if he was on fire.

"It's not what it looks like!"

The moment the words fell from her mouth, Dracula draped his arm around her shoulder and she could just feel the smugness radiating from him.

"Oh, it is exactly what it looks like." He purred, grinning ear to ear. "Good to see you again."

Al looked like he was going to explode, his mouth warping stupidly as he tried, and failed, to keep the glee from his face.

Roxana ducked out of Dracula's embrace and sent her friend a look of warning, making her way over to him. "Don't even start."

He made a motion with his hand that spoke of keeping his lips zipped, but she knew him far better than that. He would probably wait till later to hound her; most likely when she was too drunk to care because he was a sneaky asshole like that. Good thing she had a particularly high tolerance.

"What is that?" Dracula appeared at their side, gazing down at the rectangular box in Al's hands.

"It's a King Cake, baby!" At his dumbfounded look, the New Orleanians immediately took offense. Al gasped dramatically and placed a hand over his heart, almost as if the words had physically struck him, while Roxana looked at the vampire like he'd grown another head.

"You've never heard of a King Cake? How long have you been down here?" She questioned him incredulously.

The Count just made a facial shrug. It wasn't like he ate food anyway, so why would he be concerned about some local dessert?

"Oh my god, I just fucking can't. Let me find out ya boy don't know what a damn King Cake is…" Al grumbled and opened the box, placing it on the table so the three of them had space to hover over it.

The cake was made up of woven cinnamon and sugared dough that braided together to form a giant circle. A sleek pool of icing covered the entire top and dripped slightly down the sides; over that were layers and layers of purple, green, and gold sprinkles to give it the true Mardi Gras flair.

It was already sliced up into even little portions. Al took the first piece, glanced at the side, and then gave a huff, "Ain't no baby."

Roxana smirked and snagged a slice for herself, but before she could check her own piece, she noticed the look of absolute bewilderment on the vampire's face.

"Baby?"

"Not an actual child," She laughed at his wary visage, "No, no, it's part of the tradition."

Dracula's brow furrowed.

Well, with his aversion to holy symbolism, she supposed it made sense that he didn't understand what Kings Day even was.

"Okay, you look beyond lost so I'll give you a brief history." Roxana took a bite of her cake - no baby. She chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, and continued her bit, "Today is the official start of the Mardi Gras season, or also sometimes known as Carnivale. It is called Twelfth Night because it is precisely twelve days after Christmas; the night that the three kings visited the sweet, little baby Jesus in his manger."

He grimaced.

Christianity was still a touchy subject, it seemed.

"So why a…cake?"

"It's a symbol of unity; woven in thirds to honor the three kings. The Mardi Gras coloring each have a meaning as well; purple represents justice, green for faith, and gold for power. We like to have fun down here, so we hideaway a small plastic baby inside, and whoever finds the baby receives good fortune!"

"And the next cake is on them!" Al supplied, already on his third slice and shoving it into his frowning gob as he still had not found the baby. He handed a piece to Dracula. "You have to try it, Dong Phuong makes the best!"

The Count gave Roxana a side glance to which she just smiled sweetly, "Yes, Mr. Balaur, you simply have to try it!"

She could see the muscle in his jaw jump as he clenched his teeth tightly.

"I can't." He bit out, throwing her a dangerous look. Roxana noticed the darkening of his eyes and quickly realized she did not want to be testing the vampire's patience when her dear friend was so near.

"Shit, I forgot," She gave him a look of mock-concern before turning to Al and intercepting the offered slice, "He's on the Keto diet. Not allowed to have sugar or any sort of pastries."

Al's eyes grew wide in actual worry, "Oh no, that…that's horrible. I'm so sorry."

One would've thought that she had told him Dracula's mother had just died with how devastated he was at the news. The Count just shrugged with a placid grin, not knowing what the hell either of them were talking about. 

He had never even heard of such a thing.

"Yeah, he's trying to cut back a little, huh?" Roxana couldn't resist giving him two small pats on his tummy for emphasis.

He then understood and was entirely unimpressed by her implication.

"Oh baby, you look fine!" Al waved his hand and boxed up the remainder of the cake. "Well, we should head out 'cause the crew is waiting on our slow asses."

Roxana threw on her jacket and grabbed the platter of beignets, but then paused, looking hesitantly at Dracula. She didn't want to be completely rude, but she had to figure out something to say to make him leave. The last thing she needed was for this undead warlord joining them.

That would be a recipe for disaster.

"Hey Mr. Balaur, you coming?" Al called out from the doorway.

Her sous-chef was incredibly efficient in ruining her plans sometimes…or maybe he just had a death wish.

Dracula gave a non-committal shrug, but she knew better as he turned and threw her a sly grin, "Why yes, I would love to join you all."

Of course he would, she thought with an internal groan. She sent a quick prayer out to the universe that nothing deadly would take place this evening, but knowing the Count, that was probably nothing more than a pipe dream.

He bent down and swiped something from the floor that Roxana couldn't quite see from over the mountain of pastries she was carrying. In a move of suspicious chivalry, he held the door open for her and as she went to pass, she saw what he had grabbed.

Sitting delicately between two of his claws was the tiny, pink plastic baby that Al was so keen on finding in his King Cake. It must have slipped out when he had moved the box.

A small laugh escaped her as the vampire gave a toothy smile, his brows raising in wicked delight as he tossed it in the bin, "There is no baby."

~~~

The car ride was…awkward, but Roxana had to admit she enjoyed how uncomfortable Dracula looked crammed into the backseat of the tiny coupe. His knees were nearly pressed up against his chest as he sat there glaring at her through the mirror.

Al was blasting some Big Freedia through the half-blown speakers and the Bounce Queen's voice was belting out her iconic song called 'Azz Everywhere'. It consisted of very loud bass and the very repetitive lyrics of the title.

The Count was not amused.

Luckily for him, however, the bar was just down the street on Magazine. He only had to suffer through one song before the car was parked and he immediately shuffled out of it, unruffling his suit as he waited for the others to join him.

The place was smaller than he expected, but New Orleans was known for cramming together as many businesses as possible into one building. There were two floors of apartments stacked above and several people already meandering about on the balconies, their happy chatter filling the streets.

Roxana quietly asked Al to take the pastries inside so she could have a private word with the other man. Her friend just waggled his eyebrows at her and relieved her of the beignets. She sighed, running a hand through her hair before walking up to the vampire.

"Now, I know you don't like being told what to do, but will you please just be good tonight?"

Dracula rose a brow, "I am always on my best behavior."

"I'm serious," She stepped up to him, hands on her hips, wearing a very stern expression that just tickled him, "If you fuck with my friends, I'll call the foundation in a heartbeat."

"Is that supposed to frighten me?"

"It should light some sort of warning fire under your ass."

The Count placed a hand on her shoulder, claws just barely squeezing her skin through the fabric. She tensed, eyes darting back and forth between his dark gaze and sharp teeth.

"Roxana, my dear," He drawled, leaning closer with a wicked smile, "I promise not to harm your friends...this evening."

She rolled her eyes and shrugged his hand away, "I suppose that's the best I'm going to get."

The vampire's grin widened as he opened the door and gave her a small bow, motioning her in like a gentleman.

Clearly, nothing more than a veneer.

Roxana snorted and entered the familiar establishment. Might as well get the evening over with.

~~~

The bar was a grungy pit. 

The walls were covered in thousands of stickers in various stages of decay and what little wall showed from beneath was caked with the dried paint of endless graffiti tags. Stacks of board games were piled across the shelves lining the room, almost all had a missing component that basically made them unplayable. Old Christmas lights were strung up haphazardly along the ceiling and lit up the room with strange multi-colored hues.

It looked like an absolute shit show of a bar.

Dracula observed his surroundings with disgust, unsure that it even fit the building's safety codes.

"This place should be condemned."

Roxana elbowed his side, "You watch your mouth, this place is sacred."

"Oh my god, Al wasn't kidding, you actually did bring him!" There was a loud squeal and they looked up to see Angeline waving at them from the bar. From the looks of it, she was already down a few margaritas. "Hey there, Mr. Balaur! Fancy seeing you at this joint. Y'all getting into some after work extracurriculars?"

"What does that even mean?"

Angeline threw her arms around Roxana, whispering not-so-quietly in her ear, "It means that you're gonna schmooze him and booze him to woo him, baby!"

She could smell the waft of tequila permeating the younger woman's breath and fought a grimace, settling for awkwardly patting her back instead.

"Okay, you're having a water. Here, take a beignet too, cher." Roxana guided her back to her seat and gave Eric a smile, "Hey bud, how come you're not as sloshed as our little angel here?"

The poor kid looked like someone had poisoned his drink. His face, though already quite pasty, had paled considerably as he stared in open horror at the dark figure still lurking behind her.

"Rox, how come...he's here?" He asked quietly, eyes bouncing back and forth between her and Dracula. Trying, and failing, to not make his fear too obvious. "That dude is bad news."

She inwardly applauded him for picking up on the evident danger that was the vampire she brought to the bar. Too bad he was going to have to deal with the chilling feeling of pins and needles along his neck for the entire evening.

"Don't worry about it." Clasping him on the shoulder, she gave the kid her best reassuring smile and then addressed the group, "Guys, this is Dracula, it's a strange name, I know, but let's not tease him too much. Alright? Alright. Now, let's have some shots!"

After a couple of rounds, her nerves had mellowed dramatically now that various ounces of liquid courage ran like fire through her veins. She loved the rush of tequila. The vicious bite as the liquor hit her tongue followed by the soothing numbness was one of her favorite feelings. It never failed to pick up her mood.

The bloodsucking creature be damned, Roxana was going to have a fun night.

They moved the party out back to the courtyard; what the bar lacked in the interior, it made up tenfold in the back. Lights were strung up to illuminate the back patio and there were yard games for days. Anything one could imagine; billiards, pong, table-tennis, giant jenga, darts, cornhole, horseshoes. 

The list went on.

There was not a more fun time to be had than copious amounts of liquor paired with the natural allure of friendly, or sometimes not-so-friendly, competition. The inhabitants of this particular crew were no strangers to drunken bar games.

"Alright! Let's break out into teams, shall we?" Al slurred a shout to gain everyone's attention. He waved absently in Roxana's direction, "You and me, bitch, versus them two hooligans!"

Roxana glanced over at Eric who went pale as a sheet at the thought of going anywhere near Dracula, so she immediately intervened, "No, no, no, cher, we can't have that - it wouldn't be fair. How about me and the big guy, versus you two?"

They had already sent Angeline home in an Uber, ensuring she was coherent enough to actually make it there. Roxana had to repeatedly insist to her younger friend that there was no shame in calling it quits when someone was too drunk. It happened quite often to her, and she'd be lying if she said it probably wouldn't happen again. Sometimes the liquor just got the best of a person.

"Are you sure that's fair for them?" Dracula purred into her ear. He had been close to her all evening, not once leaving her side and, to her begrudging enjoyment, he had not even paid the slightest bit of attention towards any of her friends.

Only her.

She stubbornly insisted to herself that she was grateful for the attention because it meant less of a threat to her friends. However, she couldn't ignore the pleasant shiver that ran down her back every time they caught eyes.

"It is as long as you hold off on your batty voodoo." Roxana said, tossing back another shot like it was water.

This made him curious.

While her friends had consumed quite a substantial amount of alcohol, they sure as hell weren't holding a candle to what the small woman beside him was pounding down. And she didn't even seem to be phased. It was encouraging to see someone else have an unquenching thirst like his. 

Although he preferred something entirely different, he was still rather impressed.

Roxana snagged two pool sticks, eyeing them for any bends in the wood or scuffs on the cues before tossing one to Eric, "I'll rack it up."

Dracula watched with interest as she bent down to retrieve the balls and sorted them into a wooden triangle. From his angle, he had a delightful view of her cleavage and the vampire did not hesitate in sliding over to sit close to her on the table. Pressing a palm down flat onto the felt, he leaned closer under the guise of observing her movements of 'racking'. Whatever that was.

When she glanced up at him, he felt a peculiar pang in his chest that he didn't understand. She looked so…beautiful at that moment. With the hues of red and orange from the shitty lights hanging above casting her in a hazy glow, he was struck in some sort of spell.

In a flash, her gaze hardened as she realized how close he had edged over to her, and the spell suddenly lifted. He masked his confusion from the whiplash of strange emotions with an easy smile.

"Need something?" She asked, straightening up.

"What is this?"

"Pool?"

He glanced around with furrowed brows, "I see no pool here. That'd be disgusting."

Roxana couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head at the idiotic bat. She pointed to the table, "This is pool, you know, billiards? Shit, do you even know how to play?"

"I could easily acquire the skill." Dracula licked his lips, dark eyes scanning the people around them as if eyeing some prey. She pushed him off of the table causing him to chuckle and stand beside her, "Alright! Teach me then, it can't be that difficult. You silly humans and your nonsensical pub games."

"You're just upset that you died before you could enjoy having any sort of drunken fun."

He looked affronted, placing a hand to his chest, "I'll have you know I'm quite good at games! I used to have a ball seeing how many men I could impale with one toss of the spike. Ah, those were the days."

Roxana was grateful that Al and Eric were busy taking turns trying to balance their stick on their chins on the other side of the table. Out of earshot.

"Enough of that now." She muttered to the Count and then grabbed her friends' attention, "Oi, tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum, one of you break this."

As they argued, throwing their hands around in a match of rock, paper, and scissors, Roxana set out explaining the game of pool to the out-of-date vampire. By the time she was done with the rudimentary overview, Al gave a shout of victory and lined up the pool cue for his shot. The rack broke evenly, balls soaring in every which direction across the table, and a stripe sank into a pocket.

The game had begun.

Roxana prided herself in being a bit of a pool shark, so she was slightly disappointed when she only got in two solids before scratching. She handed the stick over to Dracula and they watched Eric fumble around before the Count's turn. The valet missed and slurred a slew of expletives, flipping off the table as if it were to blame for his loss of cognitive function. Dracula made his way to the table, copying the position he had seen the others use as he lined up his shot.

In his peripheral, he spotted Roxana sliding up next to him, reaching out her hands to adjust his stance. He was surprised at her willingness to be in such close proximity and he gathered that the copious amounts of tequila she had imbibed had something to do with it.

Gently, she wrapped a hand around his forearm, angling and lifting it slightly while the other hand wove his fingers to the correct positioning of balancing the cue between them.

With a hum of approval, Roxana finally looked up to meet his gaze and noticed how close they were. If she were to just turn her head slightly and lean forward an inch, his lips would be so easy to press against.

She jumped back quickly, creating a safe distance between the two of them once more and motioned for him to shoot. Dracula blinked, a little dazed himself at the strange pull he suddenly felt. He gave an imperceptible shake of his head and focused on the game.

When the stick hit the ball, he realized he might've put in a little more force than necessary because the ball shot off the table and bounced halfway across the courtyard.

"That's a scratch, bitch!" Al screamed with hysterical laughter while Eric ran over to try and capture the errant ball.

After a few turns, Dracula had become noticeably better, and soon enough, the pair of them were winning every game. The humans did not relent in their intake of alcohol and eventually, Al threw his hands in the air in defeat, swaying liberally back and forth. He was so very clearly plastered as his eyes tried to focus in on Roxana. "I think…I'm done. It's bedtime, bitch."

"Yeah, same -" Eric started but was abruptly cut off by his own loud hiccup, "S-s-same here!"

Roxana raised a brow and smirked at the two drunks who were hanging onto each other in an attempt to keep one another upright. It was incredibly amusing.

"Alright, y'all have a good night, then." She drawled, tossing back yet another shot. The sight made Eric turn a little green. He never understood how she could possibly stomach so much liquor and the mere thought drinking more made his gut turn. Al saluted them and then slung one arm around the younger man, whistling a tune as he dragged them out of the bar.

"Didn't he drive?"

Roxana was surprised that Dracula even cared.

"Yeah, he did. But he also lives one block up, which is why we usually come to this spot. I used to live super close, too." She said with a wistful sigh, "I miss the days of only stumbling a few steps to get back home."

She placed the cues back up on their rack along the wall and pushed the rest of the balls into the holes, wiping her hands down on her pants as she came to a stop in front of the vampire.

"And then there were two." Roxana spoke, a small grin lighting her face. "You were actually good tonight. Thank you."

Dracula shrugged, "I made a promise, did I not?"

"Yeah, you did." She patted him on the arm, "Great job, bat boy."

His brow rose but he said nothing to rebuke her comment. If anything, he was endlessly entertained by her constant need to call him names. 

No one had ever dared before.

"Well, it's getting late and homeboy is about to shut down for the night…" Roxana shrugged on her jacket and swigged back the last shot of tequila that sat on the table, biting into a lime wedge and then tossing it into the empty cup. It must've been the liquor taking action finally because she couldn't stop the next words from flowing out of her mouth, "Would you wanna…walk me home?"

The Count gazed at her for a moment. Long enough for Roxana to drop her eyes and reach for her purse, fully intending on making a beeline out of the bar and running away from her sudden embarrassment. 

He caught her arm before she could turn and snaked it around his own, tilting his head towards the exit, "Shall we?"

~~~

The night was cool and calm underneath the light of the moon. 

A breeze flowed gently through the empty streets and wrapped the pair in its comforting embrace. Roxana loved nights like these, when no one was out and about and the usually bustling city lay dormant in its rest.

They walked in amicable silence. 

It was pleasant to just simply enjoy the sounds of the night; there weren't many creatures that roamed about in a city like New Orleans, but the tropic region provided plenty of bugs. Although it was a strange tune, the buzzing song that the cicadas sang was calming as they hummed peacefully through the night.

He noticed that her posture was relaxed and although she wasn't outright stumbling, there was a little sway to her walk that entertained him. It was shocking how easily she had grown accustomed to his presence. Or perhaps she was just drunk, but he'd rather assume the former was true.

Roxana wandered off the sidewalk slightly, spotting a blooming Southern Magnolia tree. She did a little dance over, plucked a stem, and returned to the Count's side. He watched as she once again tucked the flower into his breast pocket. 

This one was as pale at the moon above, smelling of fresh lemon. 

"Do I still reek of evil?"

"Nah," She shrugged, "They just bring out your eyes."

Dracula couldn't help but laugh, the warm sound echoing in the street and bringing a smile to her face. If she didn't know any better, she might've entertained the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She always did have a habit of going for the bad guys in her past, but Roxana drew the line at an actual blood-sucking monster.  

As they neared her home, she came to a stop just shy of her front porch and turned to look at the Count. "Well, thanks again for, you know..."

"Not eating your friends?"

"Yeah, that."

Dracula stepped closer and lifted his hand. She expected him to grip her around the neck, a strange and unnerving habit of his, but to her surprise, he gently brought her chin between his thumb and forefinger. The soft movement caught her off guard. He raised his own chin, looking down at her, searching for something that she could not possibly begin to fathom. It caused her a bit of apprehension as a toothy grin slowly crept onto his handsome face.

"My dear, I'm afraid I would find your friends to be rather…flavorless." He murmured lowly, enjoying the instant furrow in her brow, "I am a connoisseur, not a glutton. I prefer not to pick the low hanging fruit. The taste is always…off."

"Unbelievable!" She ripped herself from his grasp, sending the vampire the meanest glare she could muster and spun on her heel to walk towards the door, "You got some fucking nerve calling my friends flavorless, what a douchey thing to say -"

But the words died in her throat and her body froze.

Dracula was amused by her outburst; he always did enjoy pressing human's buttons. They were such sensitive creatures. But the way she cut herself short drew some concern. 

He followed her steps, craning his neck to try and figure out what had caused her reaction. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

Then he smelled it. 

Instantly, his senses were taken over as he felt the pooling in his eyes and the lengthening of his dagger-like teeth making him snarl viciously. His shoulders went rigid as his body unconsciously tensed up, ready to attack. Every single one of his nerve endings was on fire as he fought the urge to consume everything in sight.

There was blood…and quite a bit of it.

The crimson liquid trailed from somewhere within her home to the entrance and it led to a red-soaked note nailed to the middle of the front door. Dark lettering read, "WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE - MEET US TOMORROW NIGHT - ST LOUIS CATHEDRAL - BEWARE THE BAT"

Dracula's growl drew her attention away from the letter and she glanced back with wide-eyes, looking at the vampire in horror. His visage was just as frightening as the sight before them. She took a step back and paused, nearly shrieking when he snapped his jaws at the pool of blood that entered his view.

He took a few deeps breaths, trying to control his natural inclination to feed, and then realized that the scent wasn't right. Something was different about it and he couldn't quite put a finger on it. Licking his lips, Dracula calmed himself down and Roxana watched as his face slowly returned back to normal.

"Are you okay?" She asked quietly, "I know you said you wouldn't harm me...but -"

"I'm fine." He bit out, making her jump. Noticing her palpable fear, the vampire ran a hand through his hair and changed his tone, "My apologies. I'm a bit famished and this caught me off guard."

"Yeah, you're telling me…" Roxana's eyes crinkled with worry as she gazed back at the scene on her doorstep.

"The blood is fresh."

Her bright eyes shot back to him, "What if they're still here?"

Dracula lifted his brows, "Then I'll be having a nice little snack."

Rolling her eyes, she went to move towards the door but was stopped mid-step by a clawed hand firmly pulling her back.

"Ah, ah, ah, I'll be investigating this, my dear." His lips quirked but the smile did not meet his eye, "I'm the immortal one here, remember?"

The Count carefully pushed open the door and made his way into her home, taking caution of avoiding stepping in the trail of blood. He let his eyes adjust to the darkened interior and listened carefully for any noises of someone inside, but all he could hear was the pounding heartbeat of the woman standing behind him.

Shame, he thought, it would've been nice to have a bite to eat. 

He really was hungry. 

Ignoring his craving, for now, Dracula reached over to flick on the light and called out to Roxana, "The coast is clear. Those cowards must have run off after slicing one of their hands like an imbecile and - oh, fuck."

His gaze landed on an object lying in the middle of her living room.

"What? What happened?" Roxana called, taking a step through the threshold.

Dracula's put up a hand, "Wait - don't come in!"

But it was too late. 

Her eyes found the source of the blood and a gut-wrenching moan escaped her lungs as she felt herself collapse onto her knees, staring at the blank gaze of her mangled cat.

"No, no, no, no, no -" Roxana shook her head, tears pouring from her eyes as she tried to wrap her mind around the brutality that befell her sweet furry friend. 

It was a shocking sight. 

She felt her heart seize up painfully, squeezing so dangerously inside the cavity of her chest that she thought it might actually burst. Roxana didn't even register the tall man swooping down and picking her up into his arms.

"Breathe, Roxana! You'll be okay, just breathe." He carried her away from the scene of the crime, bringing her outside and placing her down onto the stoop. She was nearly hyperventilating and couldn't even focus on his dark eyes that blocked her vision. He grasped her cheeks, softly stroking his thumbs along her face, urging her to calm down, "Listen to me, deep breaths, alright? Come now, breathe with me."

He began to inhale and exhale, trying to get her to match his movements. She shakily did the same, closing her eyes tightly and clasping onto his hands.

"Good, keep going. Just like that." They continued the breathing exercise, in and out, until her gasps slowly faded and her heaving chest eventually evened out. "You're doing very well."

Roxana finally opened her eyes. If Dracula had a beating heart, it would've surely stopped at the sight of her look of utter despair.

"They killed my cat."

He nodded solemnly, bringing a hand up to her hair and stroking it back behind her ear, "I am sorry for your loss."

After a moment of silence, she spoke up again, her voice raspy, "Are you going to kill them?" 

Again, he nodded and she gave a sigh of relief.

"Good. I hope they fucking rot."

"You're not staying here tonight."

Roxana's eyes glistened but she refused to let more tears fall, "Yeah, I should probably head to Al's. He has an extra couch or floorspace…or something. They're probably passed out, but I know where the spare key is."

"No," Dracula said, standing up and offering a hand. "You're staying with me."

"That doesn't seem like a good idea." She eyed it skeptically.

"Roxana, I'm not allowing you out of my sight until I find who did this." The vampire's tone was sharp and she felt the exhaustion from the evening finally catch up to her.

With a heavy sigh, she relented, "Fine. I'm too tired to argue with you right now."

Dracula saw her eyes drooping a little and with a small smirk, he reached down and drew her into his arms again. At her weak attempt to struggle, he tightened his grip and shushed her complaints, "Relax, just go to sleep. I've got you."

She gave up trying and rested her head against his shoulder. 

The last thing she remembered before an uneasy rest took her away was the faint scent of citronella wafting up from the magnolia flower sticking out of his pocket.

Taglist - 

@festering-queen​ @hiphop-gir​ @hyacinth-meadow​ @moony691​ @torntaltos​ @cam-bang​ @mood-adlock​ @allis143​ @hoefordarkness​ @vissidarte213​ @thebeautyofdisorder​ @greenisms​ @guardianbelle​ @gabesprincess​ @profiler-in-courage​ @enchantedfleur​ @feralstare​

(as always - feel free to message me if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist!)

[notquitecanon]

Billionaires, Archers, and Spies, OH MY!  Marvel Criminal Minds crossover pt. 2 (reader insert) ___

Part one! 

Sorry for the horrendous title. Not much about the BAU in this one, but we’re getting there

______

When Coulson said ASAP, he meant ASAP. No sooner than you had been settled into a provided apartment, you were escorted to the Airport to fly to an aircraft carrier. There, Coulson introduced you to Maria Hill who gave you access to an office. There you were given file-upon-file about one, Clint Barton.

You built a solid profile based on the files, and then when you felt you had a good basis- you boxed up the files, shut your notebooks, and (as you had been told) pressed a button. Two minutes later, a man in a SHIELD issue suit walked in.

You immediately recognized him as Clint Barton, and smiled at him, “Hello, Agent Barton, my name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I’m going to ask you some questions, please answer honestly- there aren’t right or wrong answers.”

“Aren’t there always?” Clint grinned, slouching into the seat across from your makeshift desk. You just quirked an eyebrow as you sat down.

“So let’s start at the beginning. What was your childhood like?” You asked, watching everything from his breathing to how he drummed his fingers on his knees. Hyper Vigilant, channels into constant movement.

He gave a brief overview of his childhood, his parents Edith and Harold, growing up in small-town Iowa, graduating high school, but focusing on his marksmanship afterward.  “If you’re wondering if something traumatic happened, it didn’t.”

“I never assumed, but thank you for the clarification.” You nodded, noticing his aversion to your questioning-hiding something.

“Ok, well, according to your file, Nick Fury hand-picked you for your skills. Marksmanship, archery if I remember correctly? That must have been quite an honor.” You remarked, eyes carefully watching his facial expressions: a huffed (sarcastic) chuckle, a slight smirk, and his eyes flitted out the window looking up- checking for snipers.

“An honor, I guess you could call it that.” He nodded, meeting your eyes again.

“So what would you call your relationship with Director Fury?” You asked.

“Professional, he’s my superior. We’re friendly, he trusts me to get the job done.” He answered, to get the job done. Is he implying that Fury doesn’t completely trust him- or maybe that he doesn’t completely trust Fury?  “He did me a favor, so I trust him as much as he trusts me.”

Interesting wording again, but when he said “favor” his left thumb rubbed his ring finger. His file said unmarried...

“Alright, any girlfriends? longterm partners? Children?” You asked, trying to prove your point. Clint visibly tensed, eyes immediately narrowing in on you.

“No, no, I’m a player through and through. Hook-ups only.” He easily splurged, lying through his teeth. Definitely has a girlfriend- possibly a wife? Obviously doesn’t want it in his file.

To try to relax the clearly agitated agent you simply nodded, “Well, Agent Barton, I’m sure you know how babies are made. Hookups...”

Clint simply shook his head, “No, No, children.”

“Alright, now let’s talk about professionally, you have a nearly perfect success rate. I understand you recently survived an assassination attempt?”

____

Clint Barton: Loyal to SHIELD, Pride in his work, but not in killing, close emotional ties with Natasha Romanoff, and unnamed girlfriend/wife (not in Files), will follow orders unless he finds a better solution, can work with others, prefers not to. Long-distance specialty- aversion to close up/ slow deaths. Secretive, low to none security risk

Good for the Avengers Initiative.  

____________

As soon as you presented your findings to Director Fury, he had more files sent to you. These files were all labeled [classified] and many of them were mostly redacted.

“Unredacted versions will be available in your office only. I’m eagerly awaiting your next report.” As ever, a man a few words, Nick Fury sent you on your way. This time, you had a couple of weeks to read up on your next interview as she was on a mission.

Natasha Romanoff, Natalia Romanova, Natalie Rushman, Black Widow, your eyes skimmed down the page-long list of aliases. That’s a profile all it of itself, You thought. Next, you read over her accomplishments, both as a Russian spy and as a SHIELD agent. They were extensive. She was a member of the KGB when she was a Soviet (with an unspecified body count). Then, she was brought into SHIELD, where she worked as a normal combat agent before being promoted to strike team delta- then her accomplishments allowed her to keep climbing rank. Skills include excellent marksmanship, more black belts then you cared to count, espionage, seduction, sabotage, hacking, interrogation, and deception. You noted to yourself, a spy of this caliber definitely has training in hiding behavioral traits and tics- might even be able to fake other tics to skew the profile.

A month and a week after interviewing Clint, you opened the door to a stunningly beautiful woman. She was tall- long legs, pale skin, green eyes, body toned from years of training yet still looking like the picture of feminity, blood-red curls that fell almost to her waist. You observed everything, even down to how she was standing, Her stance is meant to come off as unassuming, but actually, she’s already poised to strike if she has to.

“Hello! I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I’m here to ask you a few questions to build a psychological / behavioral profile. Can we get started?” You asked, gesturing to the chair in front of your desk. She nodded, sitting down. Once again, her posture was faux-relaxed- leaned back, legs crossed, arms delicately laid on the armrests, but ready to fight in a split second.

Her emerald eyes watched you as carefully as you watched her, not quite threatening but almost challenging, subtle hostility towards authority? no, maybe other women.

“Well, I have a three-mile-long list of alias, but it doesn’t tell me what you preferred to be called. What can I call you?” You asked, carefully watching her. You registered the nanosecond of confusion before she smoothed the expression, Not used to having a choice.

“I prefer Natasha, thank you.” She nodded to you, and you smiled back.

“Before we get started, I’d like to clarify there are no right or wrong answers, just honest ones, please.” You clarified, noticing how her eyes narrowed, nostrils slightly flared, but no comment as she nodded.

“Alright, let’s start with your life in Russia.” You motioned to her, waiting for her to begin, but she just cocked her head.

“What do you want to know?” The hostility was well masked, but you still caught it. You didn’t comment on it, only thought for a moment how to spark the conversation.

“Just walk me through growing up in Russia, starting as early as you can remember.”  You prompted, watching her try to hide a frustrated sigh.

“My earliest memories are of the red room. That should be in my file.” She brushed off, voice even, not too fast or slow- carefully hiding any defensive tone.

“I know, I was given the files. I’m former FBI and haven’t been here long enough to ask questions. You’ll have to explain it to me.” You apologized. For a long pause, she didn’t say anything, “If you don’t want to talk to me, we can-”

She interrupted, “Ballet lessons, that’s how it started. Then, ballet became a polisher, kept us strong, but lithe. Feminine, but deadly. Then they taught us everything we’d ever need in the field. From flirting to torture.” She divulged, the information was still vague but gave you enough information to prod the conversation.

“So there were other girls with you as well?” You asked, she nodded. Intense competitive conditions among young girls, explains her challenging attitude towards me. “And they taught you...”

“Espionage, seduction, combat, marksmanship, how to blend in and stand out at the same time, deception...” She listed, trailing off. You hid a smirk, not condescendingly, as a joke crossed your mind.

“How to lie.” You remarked, “You could have been a politician.”

She laughed quietly, a laugh which you couldn’t decide if it was fake or she actually thought it was funny, “You think I’m a liar?”

You smiled softly, noting how she was trying to intimidate you, but didn’t comment, “I think you could lie through your teeth and 99% of people in the room would believe you. It’s an impressive talent.”

She smirked, cocking her head slightly, “Would you believe me?”

You shrugged, knowing she was luring you into a trap with either answer, “Are you going to lie to me, Natasha?”

She smiled, showing off perfect rows of pearly white teeth, “Agent (Y/L/N), there’s just some things I can’t tell you.”

You nodded, using the natural pause before moving on, “Let’s move on then, can you tell me about Budapest?”

Her smile faded, “When I worked for the KGB, I had a very specific skill set, and I didn’t care who I used it for. I got on SHIELD’s radar, in a very bad way. I’m sure I was probably on FBI lists and you just didn't know it was me. Well, Director Fury put Clint on my case, to, well, I’m sure you can guess. But He made a different call, and once I defected from the KGB and renounced Russia, he gave me a second chance. I felt like I owed it to him to try to fix what I had done- at least my targets now are bad people.”

“So- for lack of better word- Redemption influenced you to work in SHIELD?” You asked, watching her carefully. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’m not naive enough to look for redemption.” She stated, before eyeing you up and down, “What are you really doing here?”

It was your turn to be smug, smirking as you started, “Agent Romanoff, there’s just some things that I can’t tell you.”

She chuckled, glancing down at her hands. You cleared your throat, “Just one more question, were you aware of Clint Barton’s wife?”

Her shock actually registered, telling you that your suspicions were correct, and also that she probably knew her personally, “He told you about them?”

Them, not her, which means more than one: children. You smiled, proud of your deductions, but shook your head no, that he didn’t tell you.

“Oh, you’re good.”

_________

Natasha Romanoff: Spy/Seductress personality traits, Only appears to completely trust Clint Barton, but Nick Fury seems to be a close second. Alpha female- flirty (manipulative) towards men, abrasive around other women until they prove themselves / or aren’t a threat to her position. Prefers close quarters combat- uncharacteristic of female assassins but registers high levels of confidence, control, and discipline. Eager for redemption/ paying her debts- seems to want to do good. This paired with her high levels of training can make for a ruthless weapon in the right hands (even if it’s her own). Not necessarily a team player, but knows how to manipulate people around her to further her mission.

As for the Avengers Initiative, as long as Agent Barton is present (to have at least one person she trusts), if given separate orders could potentially point other team members in the most effective direction.

Approved at Director's discretion.

__________

The next time you saw Natasha, it was two months later and you were asking about Tony Stark. You already watched all relevant interviews, spoken to both Phil and Nick, and read all the files available to you. Natasha was undercover in Stark Industries (at the moment) and had dealt with Stark one-on-one. The spy seemed more relaxed around you, even pausing the conversation to open a bit.

“I noticed you didn’t put ‘wife and kids’ into Clint’s file.” She started, to which you nodded, “I really appreciate it, His family means everything to him, and he pisses off some powerful people- it’s best no one knows.”

“I know. His family was the only thing he lied about, and Director Fury didn’t admit it, but definitely already knew. Which means the only reason to put it in there would be spite, and Clint seems like a good guy- like a asshole, but a good guy." You explained.

Natasha snorted a laugh, “Yeah that’s Clint.”

“Speaking of Assholes, Tony Stark. What can you tell me about him?”

“Deep down, deep, deep, down- he wants to be a good guy.” She nodded thoughtfully. The wording caught your attention.

“Wants to be?” You quirked an eyebrow. She sent you a tight-lipped smirk.

“He hit’s some roadblock- every time.” She nodded, to which you nodded.

“Keep me updated?” You asked, tapping your pen against a grainy shot of an iron man suit flying through white clouds.

“If it goes according to plan, I’ll get you an undercover interview.” She smiled, flipping perfect curls over her shoulder. She kind of felt like a super intimidating version of Prentiss.

“Thanks, Nat, you’re the best.” You flinched at your own words, noticing her tense and then relax.

“That’s what they keep telling me,” She smiled, and your tension fell away too. “See you around.”

________

“Hello, Mr. Stark, my name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I’m a writer for a psychological magazine. I’m working on an article about the psychology of billionaire superheroes-” You started, but the cocky billionaire interrupted you. It was now September, and you had been waiting for the interview since July. 

“There’s more than one? I should start a book club.” He chuckled, swirling a whiskey drink in one hand It’s ten AM, alcoholic tendencies as Nat reported. It was probably best he didn’t know you worked for SHIELD, as he was more relaxed around you now.  You faked a laugh, blushing as if you were flustered.

“You’re right, few and far between. But, uh, superheroes are a hot topic right now, billionaire superheroes, the public is interested. And also, as you’ve said in interviews, you don’t trust the military to have your tech- so the public wants to know if your...”

“Stable?”

You nodded, finally, he motioned for you to sit across from him, which you did quickly, “So let’s begin, we’re going to build a psychological profile based off of behavioral analysis.”

“I’ve read about that science, in fact, I’ve been following the Behavioral Analysis Unit from the FBI- David Rossi’s books are fascinating. Don’t you think?” The question caught you off guard, bringing back intrusive thoughts of your team- all the phone calls you were told to ignore, the purposely left signs that Penelope tried to hack your computer, Reid still emailed you a weekly reading list.

You snapped back to reality, lying easily, “Yes, I’ve actually learned some of my techniques from BAU lectures. David Rossi and Dr. Spencer Reid, Agent Aaron Hotchner would occasionally guest lectures.”

“Well, sweetheart, show me what you learned.” He told you, spreading his arms as if to say ‘hit-me-with-you-best-shot’ meanwhile, you inwardly cringed at ‘sweetheart’.

“Alright then, let’s start with early life and childhood.” You prompted, pretending to take notes as he began recounting his life story. You didn’t pay much attention to his words, so much as his actions, which made it easier to tell when he was lying, exaggerating, or under-exaggerating.

Control issues, perhaps to deal with feelings of helplessness- even though he’s a super genius, God Reid never shut up about it. Narcissistic tendencies, which normally doesn’t pair with a savior complex. Alcoholic tendencies, possibly remnants of a bad relationship with his father. Flinches when he moves in certain ways, either still hurting or phantom pains from his time held hostage. Early stages of PTSD?  

Finally, he closed his epic tale as he got up and made another drink, “And here we are together now. Isn’t life funny like that?”

“It’s strange, I’ll give you that. And how’s your current life?” You asked, he offered a cocky grin, running his hand through his disheveled hair and downing his drink. The cocky attitude didn’t reach his eyes, you noted that.

“Me? I’m living the life. Now, let me answer your real question. Why I won’t let my tech go to the government- and why I’m qualified to keep it?”

“That’s a jump. But if you’d like to tell me....” Something you want to get off your chest, Stark?

“When I was held hostage over there, it was because my tech got into the wrong hands. Then I got back and became acutely aware of how many people had been injured because of my negligence. Then I thought to myself, I can hand over some weapons solely to the military, that’ll fix the problem, right? wrong. The military is controlled by politicians, politicians who have agendas. Me? I have no agenda. With tech in my hands, I can go fix problems myself- no bureaucracy.”

Survivor’s guilt. Dangerously independent which feeds into his savior complex. He will not play well with others. Definite signs of depressive self-loathing and self-placed blame.

“Wants to be a good person, but hit’s a roadblock every time.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. I have everything I need. Thank you for your honesty.”

____________

Tony Stark: Classic narcissist, paired with a savior complex (likely caused by survivors' guilt, heightened feeling of responsibility, and guilt from his weapons being sold on the black market). Control issues. Will not follow orders, always thinks he knows a better way. Substance abuse issues are likely, alcoholic tendencies are confirmed. Sex addiction is highly likely. These are escapist tendencies. Early signs of PTSD, depression, and anxiety. Issues from childhood include a bad relationship with his father (never felt true validation from an unavailable father figure, mother never stepped in). Butler, Jarvis (not to be confused with his AI) seemed to be the primary influence in his upbringing. (Mentioned Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter more than once, bitter with Steve and fond with Peggy)

Avengers initiative: He’s self-obsessed, volatile, will not work well with others. But no matter if he’s part of the team or not, it is almost certain that he will inject himself into any global/ SHIELD conflict.

Rejected, even though he will involve himself regardless of SHIELD decision.

_______________

In November of 2010, you were called into a meeting with Fury, 

“This is good work, agent.” Director Fury nodded as you thumbed through the file on Tony Stark. He read over the profile, but didn’t show any emotion.

“Thank you, sir, but I have a feeling that I didn’t tell you anything you didn’t already know.” You replied, watching his eye as he switched to the file on Natasha. 

“You confirmed some suspicions. This will help me convince my higher-ups.” He affirmed, dropping the file on his desk with a quiet thump. You quirked an eyebrow, a small smirk on your lips. 

“You have higher-ups?” You asked, wondering who on Earth was brave enough to give Nick Fury orders. He was like the dark, scary version of Hotch. 

“We all have superiors, agent.” He replied lowly, his eyebrow raising in a way that told you he wasn’t angry but not to press the matter. “You know these were the easy ones, right?” 

“I wouldn’t say that Tony Stark was easy to deal with.” You muttered as he slid another file across. The cover read ‘Dr. Bruce Banner / The Hulk’. 

“I want a profile of Bruce Banner, and a separate one on the Hulk.” He stated, and your eyes flicked to him. You remembered watching the news at the BAU, as the Hulk tore through Harlem. Spencer went on and on about Dr. Banner’s theories in astrophysics, and then the theories that surrounded Dr. Banner’s.... condition.  

“Didn’t Bruce Banner fall off the face of the earth after the Harlem incident?” You asked, ignoring the task of profiling the Hulk. He nodded, turning his computer monitor around. It had several red dots throughout the middle east and down into India. 

“We’ve been following his whereabouts. You will not be conducting an interview, but just build me a profile based off these files, we’ll be bringing in a few other people who had contact with both Banner and the Hulk, and you can interview them.” He explained, leaving very little room for argument. 

“Yes, sir. But, I just need to make sure you understand that these are all secondhand sources, so the profile won’t be near as accurate. And, I’m afraid there won’t be much on the Hulk to profile.” You admitted, collecting the files as you got up. 

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something, Agent.” He called as you left, for the first time feeling uneasy about your position in SHIELD.

__________

Two months. Two months to build a preliminary profile on your Jekyll/Hyde situation. Two months of reading files, trying to understand his old scientific journals, talking to other scientists who worked with him, and reviewing his childhood through the documents SHIELD could get his hands on. 

You looked over your glass board (making you nostalgic for all the cases you has laid out on boards like this, only now you were working alone), printed out photos (mostly of Bruce, but also of Betty and Thaddeus Ross, a few of project Rebirth, and a lot of the Hulk), dry-erase marker notes, a tentative timeline of his life, and red string connecting relevant ideas. 

Real name Robert Bruce Banner (10/18/1969),  M.D., 7 Ph. D.s, expertise in biochemistry, thermonuclear physics, and specifically in GAMMA radiation. (which was used in the creation of the original supersoldier, Captain Steve Rogers WW2)  

Reid would be jealous, he’s only got 4. 

Strained relationship with father- from feelings of incompetence/invalidation- possibly what pushed him to constantly overachieve. Went to Harvard, was apart of hallucinogen research trials. 

Then a red string connected that thought to one, Betty Ross. 

Know a romantic relationship with Betty Ross, after graduation moved with her to Virginia together and were instructors at Culver University. Went on tenure in late 90s, met Erik Selvig- another astrophysicist, and worked on Electron collisions with gamma radiation. 

Is this a constant overachiever or just someone who knew his potential? 

Up until 9/11 he led a relatively normal life (for a super genius)

Project Rebirth was where it got fishy. Thaddeus Ross (presently General Ross, I had the pleasure of dealing with him with the BAU in the anthrax scare of 2009)  father of Betty Ross (Bruce Banner’s then-girlfriend). Tasked with recreating the original super-soldier serum. Knowing of his daughter’s boyfriend’s talents (and of his own ability to possibly manipulate Banner) he recruited Dr. Banner without telling him the truth of what he was working on- that’s why Banner chose Gamma radiation, thinking he was combating radiation poisoning. 

ingrained mistrust of authority/father figures, but not likely to act on it. Will keep striving to impress/ complete work. probably why he prefers solace. 

Thinking his work was combatting radiation poisoning, and completely on the right track, he tested it on himself- hoping to impress both Ross’s. Of course, since this was now weaponized gamma radiation, it went terribly wrong. Prompting his first transformation into the Hulk. During which, two doctors and a soldier were killed, and Ross’s were among the injured. Overwhelmed with guilt, he escaped to Canada- evading multiple capture attempts. Attempted suicide by gunshot on top of a mountain in Alaska (2006) 

eager to impress father figures until another one betrays him, driven by severe guilt, depressive tendencies, unsuccessful suicide attempt. 

Escaped to South America and lived in hiding for 2 years until his location was discovered. He transformed into Hulk before returning to America. Stayed hidden for a couple days before the ‘battle at Culver university’ marking the first public appearance of the Hulk. Upon provocation, Hulk took Dr. Ross with him. 

Two years without an incident. Bruce Banner has to have a good handle on that anger. Which makes him still extremely organized despite it all.

A few days later, Banner was found in custody and taken in by an Emil Blonsky (special forces) his file was extremely redacted. so that’s all I know on him. After being taken into custody, a second ‘Hulk’ appeared in Harlem. A bitter fight pursued, and with its conclusion, Bruce Banner was in the wind again and still is. Rumors include the middle east, rumors of a Hulk spotting at a destroyed terrorist base.  

~~~

With the Hulk, you had less to work with, mostly grainy photos and videos. You had biased first-hand accounts from General Ross, Doctor Ross, Samuel Stern, and a handful of soldiers. The least biased was Betty’s interview but she was very much so still in love with him, so the cognitive interview wasn’t much help. The biggest help you had was the videos of the Hulk in actions of which there weren’t many.  Even though they were helpful to the profile, it was like watching videos unsubs would send in- unsettling, scary, and sad. 

Preliminary ONLY- this is a tentative profile, it could be largely inaccurate without further information. 

Bruce Banner: Reclusive loner type. Can and will survive on his own. Beyond Genius level IQ. High distrust for the government. Goes without saying, but anger issues. Extremely organized. The limited current information makes it hard to complete the profile, but the medical work

Avengers initiative: With his high distrust of the government, it’s more than likely he’ll just be a security risk. And despite his level of control, it will also make him a safety risk to those around him. Unless you require someone with a knowledge of gamma radiation, you’re better off with another astrophysicist. 

The Hulk: Despite the low level of control that Dr. Ross reported after the incident, it is clear that no one can control the Hulk. He can be pointed in a direction, but that level of rage is indicative of the lowest form of control and in most cases intelligence. The Hulk will not take orders. This is a stone best left unturned. 

_______________

 “Director Fury will be pleased with your progress. I think you’ve earned some time off, take a week and when you get back we’ll have more work for you.” Coulson told you in early February as you handed over all your research. You quirked an eyebrow.

“Now that you’ve run out of things for me to do? Am I allowed to visit my old team?” You asked, as he began to leave.  Phil turned back to you, with a smile that almost reminded you of a younger version of Rossi. 

“As long as you don’t compromise SHIELD intelligence, I don’t care what you do.” He assured, closing the door on his way out. You breathed a laugh, pulling your old go-bag out from under your desk- old habits die hard. 

____

more BAU interaction in the next part I promise!! 

[zahnaerzteinungarn]

Dental Care in Hungary

An ever increasing number of individuals are deciding to have dental work done in Hungary in Eastern Europe in light of the extensive expense saving and the great of dental offices that are situated there, mainly in Budapest. Dental strategies can cost a large number in the UK and different nations however in Hungary, you could set aside to 80% of this expense.

You can make this colossal saving due to the low degree of wages and overheads in Hungary. This empowers profoundly qualified dental specialists, using the most recent in innovation and hardware, to perform protected and dependable dental systems and dental inserts at a lot less expensive cost.

How would I orchestrate to have my dental work done in Hungary?

You don't need to go until after you have definitely chosen to have your dental work done. On the off chance that you send your present x-beams to the group in Hungary, you will be given a statement without having to have an individual counsel.

On the off chance that you choose to proceed with the strategy, you can generally make all your movement and convenience course of action through the organization that is arranging your dental treatment. The time you spend in Hungary will rely upon the system you need, yet even a dental embed strategy just requires a multi day stay.

What happens when I get to Budapest?

Whichever organization you pick, when deciding to have your dental work done in Hungary, you will be met at the air terminal by a group who will at that point care for you during your visit. Included in the expense of your treatment are moves to and from the air terminal, lodging and appointments. Individuals you will manage while you are Budapest all communicate in English.

What are dental inserts?

There is right now a lot of information about dental inserts since implantation has become a famous methodology. Dental inserts are utilized to supplant missing teeth and are better than false teeth in light of the fact that the new teeth are fixed immovably to the embed in the jaw.

There is no effect on any of your different teeth and there are no wires or false teeth to battle with.

The strategy involves carefully implanting titanium posts which act very much like the foundation of a tooth. They are put into the bone attachment to frame an anchor for the substitution tooth. Titanium is utilized in light of its solidarity and it is hypoallergenic.

The tooth or crown is then connected to the post to give you a perpetual tooth. Dental inserts look and feel characteristic and permit you to eat and grin with restored certainty.

Dental inserts in Budapest address an expense saving of somewhere in the range of half and 75% contrasted with a comparative method in the UK and somewhere else. In light of the typical significant expense of this technique, a lot more individuals would now be able to bear to have dental implantation performed by going to Hungary. click for more info zahnaerzte in ungarn

So whether you need dental work done to your teeth or you have concluded that dental inserts will be a decent option in contrast to false teeth for you, flying to Hungary might be the answer for you.

You will appreciate impressive savings over having the work done at home and keeping in mind that you are in Europe, you can appreciate the excellence and history of Budapest.

[szentkiralyszabadja]

A moment somewhere in time between the fifties and sixties. 1762 words.

                                                              **

The problem with having your teeth pulled by someone other than a dentist is that when an actual dentist sees the hack job left behind, he has to do twice the work to fix the original problem and the newly created ones, and he bitches about it the whole time you’re sitting there, gaping maw full of another man’s hands and a couple of sharp tools, like it’s somehow your fault that you waited for months before seeing him and can’t grow a whole new set of molars or magic a few tens of thousands of forint for some new ones or something. That’s the way it goes as István walks away from the office with a bill big enough for two people and tasting blood all the while he sucks down two, three cigarettes worth of a walk home to his cement block apartment. The dentist had mumbled around a smoldering cigarette of his own that straws and smoking would mess with the stitching, puffing out his scolding in a cloud of smoke while István blinked hard underneath the singular spiral light fixture overhead. Yeah, he’d show him, the old bastard, István seethes to himself as if he isn’t an ancient bastard himself.

A soccer ball bounces across the stairwell followed by a troupe of four kids clambering down the several flights, ducking to avoid István’s lumbering form, as broad as he is long, dried blood on the corner of his mouth making him look all the more worse for wear against the wash of the concrete. A young lady down the hallway looks at him once, ducks her chin into her scarf, and jiggles her key a little harder. He doesn’t remember what the dentist said about alcohol consumption. If he was worth his salt, then he wouldn’t have said a word.

Shoes go somewhere in the corner by the door, heavy and fraying coat hung on the brass hooks to the right. The radiator’s steaming, which at least means it’s working in some capacity. Too tired to make the short trip back to his coat for the lighter he lights another cigarette over the gas burner, singing a couple eyelashes in the process. Not wanting the flame to go to waste he slides over the kettle and lets it sit to boil.

A few floors underneath his window the kids have started the soccer game, coin toss called and teams divvied up with a few vulgarities smattered in between. Rolling up his sleeves István leans on the edge of the sink, steel biting into his elbows. The curtains that Cvijeta had sent him are a nice touch of life against the toneless backdrop, the window smudged and foggy from the clash of the dreary late winter and the lukewarm temperature of the kitchen. He reaches to tug back the curtains, pauses with his fingers over the window latch, writes a nice fasz kivan in the condensation and dust before unlocking and lifting the thing. Cigarette smoke filters out and the settling evening dew turns the window sill damp. A street over, the tram jingles its merry way across town.

István watches the kids play for a few, mild amusement enough to keep him entertained without radio or television and the newspaper shoved into the bin, still folded, covered in the morning’s coffee grounds. One of the younger ones, Béla or Pista or something or other, really has a mouth on him, makes István think of a younger version of himself but a millennium into the future. His jaw hurts too much to smile about it. Right as the smoke burns itself to the filter and spat into the sink the kettle starts to whistle.

Everything about the world around him and in him is too muted and gray, like he’s had his whole head wrapped and filled with wool and the fog had descended into his head. It could be the halothane or his whole situation but it pisses him off more than saddens him. Catharsis is hard to find within yourself and the same four walls that make up your life. The kettle screams all the while he reaches for the rotary and dials through his short rolodex. Feliks doesn’t answer. Cvijeta does answer, but tipsy, so he lets her go whenever he hears the glass clink against the receiver.

Three more rings gets him another answer.

“Lelkem.” His voice is a drone.

“I’m hanging up.”

“Ilse.” Still no inflection.

“Did you call me in the middle of a murder?” 

He had forgotten the kettle, shrill and demanding his attention, now echoed by a neighbor banging a fist against the wall. “Esetleg. Maybe.” He shrugs, sandwiching the phone between one shoulder and his ear while he takes off the kettle, pouring it into one of the cleaner cups for the tea to steep. “Maybe I’m the one dying.”

The pause is the length of one of her trademark eyerolls. István can picture her poking the phone cord and twirling it around one finger, bored with him already. “So you call me.”

“So I call you. Pretty sad, huh.”

"Do you need me to read you the last rites? What do you want, István." Now her inflection drops flat, a sure sign that he'd better start talking or at least give her a reason to listen to whatever he'd picked up the phone for or else he'd have the company of his hissing radiator and right hand for the night. He clicks off the burner.

"I went to the dentist today," he starts, "Almost got wires in my jaw."

"That would have been a service to us all. Who knew you could find a good dentist in Budapest?"

"Shut up and let me talk, it's hard enough managing this shit and your mouth." The lip print he leaves on the rim of his cup is tinged pink with blood. The poor excuse for tea tastes god awful with the copper tang.

Ilse scoffs, indignant. "Well?"

"I almost got wires in my jaw," he repeats, leaning against the wall where the phone cord droops from the rotary. "Five of my teeth are gone, some guy pulled 'em. I dunno where they went."

"Some guy?" Her tone is surprised, crackling a bit at the end with interference.

"Months ago, some guy took me aside, some building near where I work. It happens sometimes to people," he sips at the too hot drink, parsing his language into vague enough bits that the ears in the walls wouldn't think much, just a conversation between and man and his ex-wife and few illegal tooth extractions. "He tried talking to me, tried to get me to talk about stuff. But you know me, I don't really trust well. You should know that more than anyone, actually." His jaw still hurts enough to prevent a smirk but amusement bleeds into his tone even as she groans.

"So I don't talk to this guy, or his friends with the guns. I think my exact words were 'you'll get more out of a corpse, and I can't die'. They knew I'm one of those immortal things out there. So instead one guy pulls my head back by the nostrils and another guy's got a pair of pliers. The guy with the pliers goes, alright harelip, if you aren't gonna talk now, you'll remember us when you talk later." Then, silence, the kettle cooling and the kids huddled around the street lights. His jaw is throbbing; they were right. So he shrugs and crosses one foot over the other at the ankle, one sock more thread than cloth. "You can guess the rest. So now my jaw hurts."

"Doesn't seem to be stopping you." Her retort lacks the bite that her others had. There are the background noises of her house: a window shutting, a light switch clicking. "I still don't see why you called me. I'm the last person who'd pat your hand over the phone. István--"

"You think I called you for sympathy? Nyasgem. You give yourself too much fucking credit. I called you because at most you'd call me an asshole, and at the very least you'd listen for a minute before hanging up." His teeth clack together when he bites the vowels too hard and he has to spit whenever he finishes. "That's stability for me nowadays. I don't want you to fucking understand because there's nothing worse than two miserable people talking about how miserable they are. Just listen to me for two seconds, call me an idiot bastard again so I can hang up and call it a normal day." He wipes his lower lip with the back of his wrist, punctuating the sentiment.

The silence hangs like smoke--there, but opaque and waiting. "You're an idiot. A total bastard." Her voice cuts through the fog and he can finally take a deep breath.

"Yeah, what you said."

"Waiting for months to fix that bad mouth of yours-- the biggest idiot that side of the curtain."

"You might be right, you might be wrong."

"I'm more right than you'll ever be." There's the Ilse he knows and thinks of, tone as arch as her brow. This time he smirks through the sharp ache at the back of his mouth when she asks, "Can I hang up now? Or do you have to have the last word as always?"

That's all he wanted to hear. "Nah, just one more thing." He turns to the rotary, leaning palm and temple against the wall. "Thanks. Zsóka. Call me first next time." 

“Not on your life.”

It’s a nice promise. His eyelids fall shut at the click of the line, open again when the shrill dial tone beeps its monotone pattern. He drops more than sets the phone back in the cradle and sets his cup aside, the tea gone lukewarm and bitter. The kids are back at the game outside, calling and fighting over a penalty shot.

Still leaning against the wall, István feels better, he supposes. The world is returning to focus, sharp and painful. The empty sockets ache all over again but it's fresh, his pulse echoing in his ears, blood pumping, normalcy returned. He rubs at the sharp line of his jaw, pressing his fingertips into the stubble and skin there, and catches the clock right as the minute hand clicks forward. He latches the window shut again, wipes away the message he wrote on the cloudy glass, but leaves open the curtain.

[tailorcadfael-blog]

Storm’s Refugee - A Prologue, of sorts (Peter/Vidar)

It was pouring outside. The kind of storm you tie down anything you don’t want blowing away and pray your home is the sort that doesn’t leak. Peter’s trailer sat on the precipice of acceptable in that regard - the rain hammered down on its exterior and the wind howled around it, but he’d chosen a reasonably sheltered place this time, surrounded by large trees that absorbed the worst of what the little camper couldn’t handle on its own.

He just hoped his generator didn’t stall out. It was going to be a cold night, otherwise — and, yep, there it went. Piece of shit.

He had just bundled up in his sweatpants and a thick terrycloth robe, mixed himself a hot Toddy - a shot of Bourbon, with hot water, lemon, honey, and a bit of ginger was just the thing for a night like this - and had settled down with his laptop to watch Penn and Teller on Netflix. Not much chance at that, it turned out - even in good weather, the coverage out here was terrible - so he switched over to his hard drive of films and was just scrolling through the directory, hoping to find something he hadn’t seen in awhile, when he heard scratching at his door.

He almost ignored it, assuming it was a branch or some debris blown up against the trailer, but then he heard it again, too insistent to be the wind.

Cautiously, Peter approached the trailer door and peeked out the tiny window. At first he saw no one, but then lightning flashed and he caught sight of a pair of glowing eyes and a canine face.

His heart skipped a beat - were there wolves out here? No way… this was just at the edge of suburban areas, even if there were still wolves in this part of the country, they wouldn’t come this close to people… would they?

The lightning flashed again and the creature looked up at him forlornly, its ears drooping. It was soaking wet, from what he could see, and seemed smart enough to recognize a door - maybe it was just someone’s stray dog? Peter hesitated, then carefully pulled his door open.

Or tried to. The wind kicked up as soon as he got the latch open and blew him backwards. He managed not to get knocked over by spinning to the side, his hand still on the door handle, and taking cover behind his shelves.

“Shit!” Peter yelled, and as soon as there was a lull in the blast he pushed the door with both hands and slammed it closed again.

When he caught his breath, he realized he was no longer alone.

The wolf-dog was cowering in his kitchen, dripping water all over the floor and looking utterly miserable and, oddly, apologetic. Its head ducked low and it lowered itself to the ground when he took a tentative step towards it, trying in the very narrow space to roll onto its back submissively.

“It— it’s okay, boy. It’s okay. No one’s gonna hurt ya — we’re just gonna be pals, okay?” Peter murmured, trying to keep his own worry out of his voice. “….please be friendly, okay?”

The wolf-dog wagged it’s tail and half-crawled, half wiggled over to him.

It was enormous. He’d never seen a dog so big. He was sure, standing up on its high legs, it would tower over him easily, and if he was any judge, it was easily near twice his unimpressive weight. A paw the size of a softball waved at him invitingly, in a playful, almost coy gesture. Peter found himself smiling in spite of his reservations.

“Aw… you’re just a big puppy, aren’t you?” He sniffed, wincing slightly. “A big, wet dog-smelling puppy. Okay. Let’s fix that.” He dug through his cabinets, unearthing the only two towels he owned, and began scrubbing the wolf-dog down. It held still for him while he soaked first one, then the second, and was still looking damp and scraggly. Peter frowned, squeezed as much water as he could out of the towels in his tiny shower space, and rubbed the animal down so more. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he tossed the towels on the shower’s racks to dry, pulled off his robe, and dropped that over the dog next.

That did the trick. After a lot of rubbing - which, he noticed, the dog closed his eyes and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying - he managed to get the fur almost dry. He looked at his floor, and with another soft sigh tossed the robe on the ground to soak it up.

“Never let it be said that I’m a bad host, hmm? Are you hungry, buddy?”

The dog’s ears perked up, to his surprise.

“Oh… you know that word, huh?” That had to be it. Dogs picked up words fast when it lead to food. Peter stood up, walking over his robe and moving it on the ground with his feet till he was satisfied, then wrung it out in the shower and hung it up as well.

At least the extra body present would warm things up a bit. He could already feel the heat radiating off the dog, now that it was no longer shivering from the rain. Peter shuffled through his very, very small cabinet, pulling a paper bowl out of a stack of them and a tin of canned chicken meat. He’d been saving it for making sandwiches this week, but it felt wrong to have offered food and not followed through, especially when it was to a guest with teeth as long as his fingers.

“Sorry, not exactly gourmet eating here, but here ya go, Handsome.”

The dog wolfed (hah!) the offering down gratefully when he set the bowl on the ground, and Peter sat back on his bed, taking the opportunity to get a good look at the animal now that it was dry and preoccupied. He didn’t know much about dogs, but there were breeds that looked like wolves, he knew that much. It couldn’t be a real wolf - the color was off, for one, or at least he was pretty sure wolves didn’t get dirty blond fur. It was too friendly and comfortable in a human space, too. Definitely had to be someone’s stray.

It couldn’t have been loose that long, either. It’s hips weren’t jutting out of its body - in fact, it looked quite fit and well-fed, its claws hadn’t seemed overly long to him when he was toweling them off, its eyes seemed clear… and staring at him expectantly now. Peter straightened up, feeling oddly like he was under scrutiny. Well, that was fair, it wasn’t like he hadn’t been ogling, too.

“Well… looks like it’s you and me for the night, pretty boy. I’m not so much a dick I’d kick you out now.” He held a hand out, and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face when the dog approached, its tail wagging low and fast, and almost bashfully pushed its head against his palm.

A head the size of a damn bear. He hesitantly scratched its ears, letting his hand trail around the animal’s neck in search of a collar he’d hoped he’d simply missed in the process of drying it off. Nothing, but he did feel a patch of bare, hard skin around its throat, and frowned. Scar tissue, no doubt about it. The dog pulled its head away, and Peter held his hand up apologetically.

“Someone got you good, huh? It’s okay, buddy, I’ve got a few scars of my own. See?” He pointed at the incision scars on his bare chest. “Here’s where I got shanked in prison. And this one is from when I burst out of my chrysalis.”

The dog was watching him intently again, its head tilting in confusion as he spoke.

“Just kidding,” Peter said with a grin. “I was never in prison.”

The dog blinked, and Peter shrugged.

“Tough audience, eh?” He sighed, and scooted back on the mattress, then patted the empty space next to him. “Well, I’m currently down my main source of heat for the night thanks to you, so you can make up for it by keeping me warm.”

The dog hesitated. It moved up to the edge of the bed, peeking over it at him like it was pondering something it knew it wasn’t allowed to do. Probably trained not to get up on furniture, then. He supposed that was fair - if he had an actual house with furniture worth destroying he wouldn’t have been so eager to let an animal that big on it either.

“Come on up, Handsome, I won’t bite.” He paused, adding, “And I won’t tattle.”

The dog put one, giant paw up on the edge of the mattress, then another, then pulled itself up a bit awkwardly. It hovered over him a moment, its brow furrowing forward with an expression of almost alarming intelligence, its mouth hanging open for a second, then it seemed to think better of … whatever it had been thinking, but not until after giving Peter just long enough to wonder if he’d made a serious mistake.

Then the dog stepped over him and lowered itself behind him, squirming into the space between him and the wall and half curling around him so it could lay its massive head in his lap and look up at him hopefully.

“Yeah, I know a cuddler when I see one. Lucky for you, I’m all about that life style.” Peter said, placing a hand on the dog’s thick ruff and scratching. It sighed in pleasure and closed its eyes, and with his free hand Peter pulled his laptop up again and continued scrolling through his films list, till he settled on Grand Budapest Hotel. “How do you feel about Wes Craven?”

A contented sigh was the only reply he got. “Mhmm, sounds good to me, too.” Peter clicked the play button, picked up his now-lukewarm Toddy and leaned back against the dog like a pillow.

The dog slept still and quiet the rest of the night - honestly, a better bed partner than he’d had in longer than he cared to dwell on - but by morning the storm was gone and it was scratching at the door to be let out. Peter held it open and watch the big creature trot off into the woods. It paused just at the edge of the tree line, looking back at him; he waved, a little awkwardly, feeling a little melancholy as it seemed to nod before disappearing into the underbrush.

[landengmop043-blog]

The 5 Secrets To Effective dental clinics ct How to Explain dental clinics budapest to Your Mom

Implants can be a truly wonderful gift from modern medical science for someone who experienced a huge deterioration with the teeth.

What Are Dental Implants?

In simple words, a dental implant replaces the basis of the tooth which is artificially made up of titanium (strong and long-lasting metal). These are small devices that are sturdily squeeze into your jawbone and replace the roots which may have gone bad. They are powerful enough to handle the new artificial tooth above it. The first dental implant was used in 1965. The rate of success of implants is incredibly reassuring as it's now at 98 percent.

Advantages of Dental Implants

One with the major advantages of dental implants is the fact that it provides is a replacement of the single tooth devoid of the have to compromise the adjacent healthy tooth structure. The implants which are used are extremely just like your original teeth as there is no-one to identify which is artificial and which one is original. These implants are an astounding tool for anchoring in case when several teeth are missing and making trusted abutments for installing a fixed bridge or perhaps an abutment. Be sure to ask the difference between mini- implants and regular implants together with your dentist as there is often a lot of confusion between two. Mini- implants are usually 1.8 mm to 2.5 mm and have a very narrow diameter that creates them highly vunerable to fracture.

An advantageous part of this new technology is that a bridge can be installed on the replacement of your single tooth on both sides of an area that really needs work. The bridge might be temporary or left in position, depending on the patient's current financial position.

Premium Brands versus Off Brands

The companies which have been around for a long time mainly provide premium brand implant devices and give exceptional customer service to keep your dental blueprint on course. These trusted companies have strong capital that could result in superior service and can finance continual research to deliver you an excellent implant. On the other hand, off-brand dental implants are sourced coming from all over the world like Korea, China, as well as other countries. These are not FDA approved so because of this arrived at market very quickly. They are the inexpensive which ends up in creating a large problem on your dental blueprint. More than 190 dental implant manufacturers are there as well as the number grows each year.

The products tend to be widely used; good prices certainly are a driving element in industry, and dental implant manufacturing can be a very profitable business. Therefore, many companies worldwide are attempting to tap to the business as more and more individuals are replacing their missing teeth. Several companies are trying to consider the business faraway from major manufacturers and finding their way illegally into the US market.

As the demands of dental shoppers increase and insurance coverage is reduced, some dentists take good thing about lower costs of offshore implant products to secure their customer base. One in the serious difficulties with off-brand dental implants is the fact that the non- FDA approved materials can create a huge health risk his or her purity is unknown and because of the high cost of titanium, structural problems can also be a significant issue.

Other Implant Considerations

Day by day as technology has progressed, the specific process may be refined. With the help of technological advancements and dental techniques, many patients enjoy the confidence and comfort within their dental health. Dental Implants come whatsoever sizes, shapes, and prices. Most dental practices that supply dental implants, they merely work with a single dental implant system due for the inventory cost as well since the training that is required. This generally brings about additional cost or strategy for patients. However, we simply cannot reject the fact that these implants have become an aid in building retentive and partial dentures and dental bridges and mainly provide patient a strong sense of healthy mouth with original tooth structure.

[sacredvein]

harkcr‌:

The boy’s eyes flickered towards him, and Jonathan felt himself freeze. Felt the world plunge inwards. Suddenly he was too close, too seen, too alone. It was like taking a step in the dark and finding one’s foot plunging into unexpected oblivion. The old hysteria was always there, ready to reach a hand up through his chest and grasp his lungs. Like London, like Budapest, like now. 

It was hard to miss, once you knew what you were looking for: that sharpness. That liquid movement. As if every awkward human edge had been sanded away, leaving only wicked little points; at the teeth, the eyes, the hands. The grace of the dead. Or whatever occupied the dead to keep them living.

And once you knew, you wondered how you could ever have missed it. The unnaturalness. It made Jonathan’s skin crawl.

But through the terror, through that ever-present rise of panic, came the dark thrill of vindication, and it was that terrible victory that jolted Jonathan back to himself. 

He’d been right. He’d been right. Right in his every assumption. And right to leave Mina and Quincey at home. 

“Yes.” he managed, starting forward gratefully. The panic had lasted all of a second. “Y-yes, actually.”

He wasn’t going to hold out a hand. Not even gloved. Instead Jonathan held his hat respectfully against his chest, as if this were a polite business transaction. Or he a doting fan. 

“Marvelous performance. Certainly wouldn’t have seen something like that back home!” His smile wasn’t nearly as sharp as the boy’s, but it was just as flat. His little laugh just as hollow. “Y-you live here? In this theatre?”

“Why, we dissipate into foam on the sea!” Laurent laughs lightly, touching a hand to his breast - nevermind the flashing, glassy nails, nevermind it, nevermind the sharp-toothed smile. “You are too kind, monsieur. You have traveled far to see us, no? Or is it business that brought you to our dear Paris?” His head cants, catlike, eyes bright and fixed and entertained. Eating him, eating him.

The thrill of terror, of virtue, of awful, knowing triumph in the mortal dries the back of Laurent’s throat - it would be so easy to wet it. So easy. But he has not encountered his kind before, the scattered thoughts of a mortal who sees them, who knows their awful plastre faces are not borne of grease-paint and pigment, but the masque of death. True death. Yes, little sir, you have found us. And what will you do with us now that you have?

“Perhaps it is both?” Laurent muses coyly, knowing the answer already. “Will you grant the honor of your name, monsieur? Our directeur shall like to know who took such great interest in our humble troupe.”

[hungarydental]

Different Solutions Tooth Implant - Hungary Dental Implant

Our teeth are the most visible feature in our personality, so maintaining it becomes so crucial with time. It not only affects our overall personality but also builds our self-confidence. Some people might face the problem of missing tooth or fuzzy tooth and wants there smile back. This might be an accident but getting a flawless smile back is a decision.

One of the main advantages of dental implants is to support permanently fixed dental prosthesis. It is not always possible to achieve a perfect smile naturally.

[0livefocaccia]

tragedy + time = comedy

10.14pm, on the train home

okay this is for the future me to laugh at, and for the present me to vent out some frustration.

working in front line sales at apple (for the second time) has been the best sociology lesson i never wanted, it’s been one and a half months and so far:

babysat hundreds of small children playing mario on the ipads

an indian couple aggressively asking me for a “best price” because they are buying “an iphone 7 and a macbook” and then asking to “speak to the manager” when i said prices are fixed (i thought this only happened in movies)

met about twenty jaded old conservative racist men who truly BELIEVE in racism and who possess a worldview i can never understand (i thought this only happened in america)

complimented really talented artist guy who was drawing on one of the ipads and him being all cutely embarrassed and awkward

co-worker being all proud and happy when talking about his two smol kids and showing me cute home videos

trying not to feel disgusted and gross when creepy old men ‘casually’ touches my upper arm

stressing out over maintaining two jobs and a social life

first day on job: almost gave the lady the wrong ipad *dies inside*

forced to rapidly improve mandarin

american customer being really upset that he couldn’t get tax refund because he didn’t bring his passport (basically the ONLY thing you need to proof that you’re a tourist grrr) “who shops with their passport?!” (most of our tourist customers) “THIS IS A STUPID RULE THIS IS STUPID” “i want to speak to the manager!!!” (sigh)

truly understanding the quote from the grand budapest hotel “rudeness is an expression of fear, people fear that they cannot get what they want…”

served mystery shopper and immediately sensing that it was a test (nailed it!)

melting a little when a customer says “thank you, you’ve been very helpful” and being happy for the rest of the day

served a korean girl who barely spoke english, had to resist the urge to pull her into a tight hug after seeing multiple red slashes on her arms

being completely UTTERLY sick of wearing jeans

ran into homeroom tutor the day before ‘a’ level results collection date

forced to listen to mamma mia soundtrack the whole day on repeat

applied for universities using the display macs!!!

touched multiple passports from different countries

mastered smiling while clenching teeth and resisting the urge to roll my eyes out of my brain

cute old chinese couple taking pictures of each other with the ipads

lovely confused grandma offering to buy me food for serving her

learnt to keep silent when condescending patronising men insult our products in front of me and try to teach me things and give me IT information

remembered how to apply screen protectors

extremely anxious short chinese family asking me questions politely (but for TWO hours…)

judging asus and samsung’s counters from afar

ate subway and stuff’d so often that staff remembers my order (i feel like i’ve just unlocked an achievement)

generally becoming more well mannered

people who don’t want to buy or learn anything, only to mess up the display and cables

dying a little inside when steve rogers look alike smiles at me and his eyes are so wonderfully blue…

…only to discover that he’s a bit of an arsehole :’(

funny american man: “WHY ARE THESE SO EXPENSIVE!!! DAMMMMMMM”

standing up straight for 13 or 8 hours at a timebeing accustomed to saying “hello” to people and them nor even lifting their head or acknowledging my presence

[tarajdavis]

London Emergency Dentist Says Emergency Dental Services Are Now Available in Central London

Emergency Dentist - Dental Clinic and Implant Centre, a dental practice in London, UK, has announced that they are offering emergency dental services to patients in Central London. This ensures people who have a dental emergency to get the dental service that they need at any time of the day or night. It should be noted that dental emergencies may occur at any time. For instance, teeth injury can occur while a person is performing daily chores. The damaged teeth may cause so much excruciating pain such that the injured person would want to get relief as soon as possible.

Greg Murray, a spokesperson for Emergency Dentist - Dental Clinic and Implant Centre, says, “Our out of hours emergency dentists offer near 24-hour emergency dental services in Holborn / Tottenham Court Road, Central London. Emergency dentist London is ready to serve you. You can find relief from the severe pain you are suffering from because of your broken teeth at any time of the day or night. And we also offer a full range of dental services at Emergency Dentist London. Please check our website if you would like to have more details about our dental services.”

Emergency dental services are also required when dentures get fractured, orthodontic braces get damaged, and other similar circumstances. Getting an appointment at Emergency Dentist - Dental Clinic and Implant Centre has been made easy to ensure that people can get pain relief and have their teeth repaired as soon as possible. The key emergency dental services they provide are tooth extraction, wisdom tooth extraction, and root canal. And for people who speak a language different from English, they have multilingual dentists who can speak not just English but also Polish, Hungarian, Italian, Russian, and more.

Aside from emergency dental services, the dentists at Emergency Dentist - Dental Clinic and Implant Centre also offer various cosmetic dentistry services. For instance, they provide invisible dental filling that are for restoring teeth that have been damaged by tooth decay. The colour of the composite fillings are ensured to exactly match the natural colour of the patient’s teeth, thus, the dental fillings are virtually invisible.

For stained teeth, they also provide teeth whitening services. This can serve as an easy and long lasting solution to improve a person’s smile and appearance. The provide a wide range of teeth whitening solutions, including the Zoom whitening system.

They can also offer porcelain dental veneers. With these dental veneers, a single treatment can result in the correction of tooth surface flaws, such as chips and cracks. Dental veneers may also be used to hide dark tetracycline stains that cannot be treated by conventional teeth whitening procedures. These porcelain veneers are thin shells of medical grade ceramic that are fixed to the front surfaces of the teeth, thus, providing an immediate remedy for flawed teeth.

Similar to dental veneers are dental crowns. These can provide both oral and cosmetic health benefits by strengthening the tooth while also helping to make the smile appear whole and natural again. They are carefully fabricated to complement the neighbouring natural teeth with regards to colour, size, shape, and texture.

Dental bridges may also be provided. This is a prosthetic that is composed of a false tooth and two anchoring dental crowns. It is known as a “bridge” because it serves to bridge the gap left by missing teeth. It is important to note that while the false tooth is kept in place with dental cement, there is is no physical connection between the false tooth and the jawbone as a way to prevent the accumulation of bacteria between the gums and the prosthetic.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l57-VNK1n_U

Those who would like to learn more about the dental services provided may want to visit the Emergency Dentist - Dental Clinic and Implant Centre website, or contact them on the telephone, or through email. People may also want to the check the Emergency Dentist London on Yelp.

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London Emergency Dentist Says Emergency Dental Services Are Now Available in Central London

Emergency Dentist - Dental Clinic and Implant Centre, a dental practice in London, UK, has announced that they are offering emergency dental services to patients in Central London. This ensures people who have a dental emergency to get the dental service that they need at any time of the day or night. It should be noted that dental emergencies may occur at any time. For instance, teeth injury can occur while a person is performing daily chores. The damaged teeth may cause so much excruciating pain such that the injured person would want to get relief as soon as possible.

Greg Murray, a spokesperson for Emergency Dentist - Dental Clinic and Implant Centre, says, “Our out of hours emergency dentists offer near 24-hour emergency dental services in Holborn / Tottenham Court Road, Central London. Emergency dentist London is ready to serve you. You can find relief from the severe pain you are suffering from because of your broken teeth at any time of the day or night. And we also offer a full range of dental services at Emergency Dentist London. Please check our website if you would like to have more details about our dental services.”

Emergency dental services are also required when dentures get fractured, orthodontic braces get damaged, and other similar circumstances. Getting an appointment at Emergency Dentist - Dental Clinic and Implant Centre has been made easy to ensure that people can get pain relief and have their teeth repaired as soon as possible. The key emergency dental services they provide are tooth extraction, wisdom tooth extraction, and root canal. And for people who speak a language different from English, they have multilingual dentists who can speak not just English but also Polish, Hungarian, Italian, Russian, and more.

Aside from emergency dental services, the dentists at Emergency Dentist - Dental Clinic and Implant Centre also offer various cosmetic dentistry services. For instance, they provide invisible dental filling that are for restoring teeth that have been damaged by tooth decay. The colour of the composite fillings are ensured to exactly match the natural colour of the patient’s teeth, thus, the dental fillings are virtually invisible.

For stained teeth, they also provide teeth whitening services. This can serve as an easy and long lasting solution to improve a person’s smile and appearance. The provide a wide range of teeth whitening solutions, including the Zoom whitening system.

They can also offer porcelain dental veneers. With these dental veneers, a single treatment can result in the correction of tooth surface flaws, such as chips and cracks. Dental veneers may also be used to hide dark tetracycline stains that cannot be treated by conventional teeth whitening procedures. These porcelain veneers are thin shells of medical grade ceramic that are fixed to the front surfaces of the teeth, thus, providing an immediate remedy for flawed teeth.

Similar to dental veneers are dental crowns. These can provide both oral and cosmetic health benefits by strengthening the tooth while also helping to make the smile appear whole and natural again. They are carefully fabricated to complement the neighbouring natural teeth with regards to colour, size, shape, and texture.

Dental bridges may also be provided. This is a prosthetic that is composed of a false tooth and two anchoring dental crowns. It is known as a “bridge” because it serves to bridge the gap left by missing teeth. It is important to note that while the false tooth is kept in place with dental cement, there is is no physical connection between the false tooth and the jawbone as a way to prevent the accumulation of bacteria between the gums and the prosthetic.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l57-VNK1n_U

Those who would like to learn more about the dental services provided may want to visit the Emergency Dentist - Dental Clinic and Implant Centre website, or contact them on the telephone, or through email. People may also want to the check the Emergency Dentist London on Yelp.

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