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wackygoofball · 6 years ago

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Moodboard: Jaime x Brienne - Elementary AU

Just FYI, I am sending ahead that I absolutely, with all of my heart adore Elementary and Jonny Lee Miller’s and Lucy Liu’s portrayals of their characters, which is why this moodboard should please be regarded as an homage to the show above all else, even if I take the romantic high road here despite the fact that the show seems to follow the trajectory of the platonic love (which is so pure and so well written I still cry) up until this point of time, though as a shipper... one can still hope, right?

I will also send ahead that I had to do some tweaking to create the Watson/Sherlock dynamic since Jaime’s character is different from a Sherlock Holmes in many ways, so I employed a little workaround I hope suffices.

To give a bit of a teaser, here the plot bunnies I have thus far:

Brienne of Tarth knows what she is getting into whenever she takes on a new client. After all, she chose to become a sober companion to deal with the unexpected and help those who can’t help themselves in times of crisis. What she doesn’t know is how she stumbled over this most curious case. First she gets an ominous phone call from an assistant to Mr. Blackwater to request her services for his friend who just came out of rehab and now needs some looking after, then she finds out the same man would not meet up with him.

All Brienne knows about her client is that his name is Jaime Lannister, a former consultant for the King’s Landing Police Department, and that yes, this is the same man known as the Kingslayer in the Seven Kingdoms after he killed Aerys Targaryen, but was found to have acted in self-defense even though evidence begged to differ a lot, or so she heard on television. From the medical files she was provided by the facility, Brienne knows that he lost his hand and as a result got addicted to pain killers, which resulted in his drug abuse that landed him in the rehab in the first place.

Their first meeting couldn’t be any more unfortunate as it doesn’t take long for the truth to unfold that Jaime Lannister does not want and won’t tolerate a sober companion, or “mannish drug nanny” as he puts it, to watch every of his steps.

“I have no intention to be using again, so Bronn can just fuck off and leave me alone. He actually has a lot of experience with that ever since he got his villa.”

Brienne won’t budge, however, she never does, and makes it clear to her new client that she won’t be going anywhere until she knows for sure that he is settled in and doesn’t run the risk of relapsing anymore during this very critical transition period from rehab center to normal life again.

She is used to clients who display hostility towards her, show mistrust, but Jaime Lannister puts a new level to it, because no matter what, Brienne not once encountered an client who would play fanfares late at night, arguing it vital to his recently picked up again consultant duties, dumping trash on her bed for a “long overdue experiment concerning decomposition of evidence” or introducing her to police staff as his “personal valet.” Though Brienne will have to admit, despite his sheer intolerable behavior, Jaime Lannister is even better than the rumors about him would let one assume: through deduction alone, he sees right through a crime scene, gets down to the bottom of it and finds the culprit. It is such a stark contrast to the childish man trying to drive her out of the house. On the job, he is exceeding any expectations, is sharp, focused, and cuts through lies and stories with the precision of a scalpel.

Jaime, for his part, would rather have this sober companion gone for good, but Miss Tarth appears stubborn enough to stick around against better judgment, or perhaps Bronn pays her better than he would have calculated. His interest in her witnesses a slight peak while working a case, since his “personal valet” happens to have some medical insights bringing him forward in finding the murder suspect that would have taken him quite a while longer.

Not that he would admit that to her, of course. After all, Jaime shouldn’t be surprised by her knowledge of the field. He did his research and knows for a fact that she is a former army doctor turned drug nanny. Nevertheless, she happens to have deductive skills of her own, he discovers, and while unrefined in some aspects, she has a certain clarity in her mind that most others lack.

However, in the end, that shouldn’t matter. Jaime has other things to do, and she is just the constant reminder of his failure, which is why Jaime undertakes the efforts necessary to drive her out of the house. At last, his research reveals that one thing that may drive her over the edge – how she ended up as a sober companion in the first place. In the course of a heated argument, Jaime snaps and confronts Brienne about it that she only ever took on the job because she failed to keep Renly Baratheon safe when she worked as his personal secretary and he ended up getting shot in the streets outside a restaurant where they met with Catelyn Stark for business dealings.

When Jaime considers himself the winner at last, he is taken aback by Brienne’s reaction, however:

“It appears your only method of dealing with your own emotions is by projecting them on others.”

“So you deny you have any problems? Please. I just proved that wrong.”

“I know I have them, and that means I am three steps ahead of you. Because you can’t look into the mirror because you are ashamed of what may be looking back at you. And quite frankly, I find that… craven.”

After that, neither one knows how to talk to the other for a while. Brienne genuinely considers quitting the job, but before she makes that decision, Jaime brings himself to an apology, which is, she knows, an absolutely rare exception.

“I overstepped a line to drive you away. I am not used to have other people deduce things about me. I tend to think that no one ever really got me other than my brother, perhaps, but that’s another story. Because yes, I wanted you gone so that I don’t have to face the fact that this is the reason why you are here. I want to do my job and forget about those past months. I wished they never happened.”

“They don’t go away, though.”

“I know. But there is just going forward from here, for me at least… but… it was wrong of me to take that out on you. Which is why I am generous enough to offer you my services as part of what I tend to refer to as a truce: I am willing to dedicate some of my free time to Renly’s murder case.”

“Hell no.”

“… I actually thought you would be flattered by that. You are aware that I am the best consultant currently residing in King’s Landing, arguably in all of Westeros I daresay?”

“That is my responsibility and my responsibility alone.”

“… You want to find the person responsible yourself.”

“Your deduction skills are, as per usual, very much on point.”

“… Well, if that is the case, I can only offer you my resources, should you decide to dig into his case again, or otherwise be of assistance. I still propose a truce as part of our agreement of sober companion and client because, frankly, I gave it some thought and I suppose you are the least trouble. Imagine some dimwit stepping on evidence at crime scenes. You at least know how to stay put.”

“… I suppose that is a compliment.”

“You may take it as such. So do we have a truce?”

“You need trust to have a truce.”

“I trust you.”

And on that trust, they start to build for the next weeks. Brienne finds herself more and more drawn to Jaime’s work whereas Jaime can no longer deny Brienne’s apparent talent for detective work outside the medical sphere. She is perceptive and thanks to her military training knows more about fighting than most ever will.

He finds her… promising, in a way. Just like someone once found him promising, only to destroy it all, but maybe, just maybe, he can make things right this time, who knows?

While Brienne enjoys the work more and more, she knows that her days with Jaime Lannister are limited, which means she must not get attached to either the man or his profession. When Brienne communicates that to him, Jaime starts distancing himself from her. Brienne already fears for a relapse and is close to calling Mr. Blackwater to request an extension, but before she can make the call, Jaime breaks his silence with a sudden offer: to become his apprentice and become a consultant like him.

“If you decide to take the offer, of that I assure you, I will train you to the best of my abilities. Make you cry, very likely. But once the training is completed, you should know all there is to know about solving crime the way I harnessed that skillset.”

“I am a sober companion.”

“And before that you were a personal assistant to Renly. And before that an army doctor. You see, a woman once told me that I was craven for running away from my problems, and I think it is time I give these wise words over to the next generation sitting before me. I think you are running away from an opportunity, just because you are afraid of making that step. You want to be out there. I saw you at the crime scenes. I saw the satisfaction on your eyes when we got the bad guys.”

“And I don’t deny it. But I am helping people, too, as a sober companion. I am preventing people from relapse, I am preventing them from committing crime.”

“And that is admirable, without a doubt. And you are good at your job. You kept me from the drugs and I thought that was virtually impossible. Nevertheless, I think this is an opportunity for you and…”

“And?”

“And me as well. Because I have to admit that… that my work has been better ever since you started to come along. I don’t know why, I just know that this is the case. That I am better with you.”

Brienne remains unsure about the offer for a while, but eventually agrees to the training regiment, no matter how much spiteful glee Jaime takes in basically tormenting her.

Jaime, for his part, rediscovers how much joy it gives him to do this job, and discovers something new as well, starting to understand how Tyrion loved training him to become a consultant back in the “good old days,” not just to make the other suffer, but to see them grow, deduce, put the pieces together. When he watches Brienne, when he sees her succeed, Jaime finds himself succeeding. And when Brienne is proud and happy, he finds himself smiling along.

As things progress, their truce soon grows to a deeply felt friendship since both lacked someone to rely on with those very private insecurities and inner demons for a very long time.

Brienne admits to how she ended up as Renly’s assistant, namely because she was hopelessly in love with the man, as Jaime had rightly deduced on the day they had their first fallout, and that she chose to join him to be around him.

“After I came back from my military service… I don’t know, I had so many people die, slip through my fingers, people we were sworn to protect, good people, good soldiers and far too many civilians. And then I heard that Renly was running for presidency after Robert’s death and I just… I just wanted to be sure that he was alright. I have seen the results of political upheavals in times of crisis during my service as an army doctor. I know that political enemies tear each other to shreds and that this will always lead to bloodshed on all sides. No one really questioned me and my decision because… you know, trauma. Everyone just assumed I wanted something boring, something conventional after all that I saw and went through. And perhaps I did, I don’t know. I just wanted to keep close to Renly, that much I knew. But then… Renly was killed and I only ever held him as he died.”

“And you couldn’t identify the guy.”

“It was a shadow. And it had Stannis’s name all over it.”

“Can you prove it?”

“Not yet.”

“You see, it’s always risky to deduce from the conclusion to the fact. It should be the other way around.”

“Those are the facts. Renly ran as an independent party to split potential votes between him and Stannis because he didn’t want Stannis to ever make it past the primaries. He had a motive to want to have him removed. Many of Renly’s voters went ahead and joined Stannis after his death. He has a woman in his ranks who will carry out almost any kind of task you give to her. It was Stannis. I know it, I just need a way to prove it.”

“Melisandre of Asshai. I read some interesting things about her.”

“She is a murderer. And one of these days, I will be able to prove it that she and Stannis did this.”

“You just need the remaining evidence.”

“Even more so since he runs for president. I will rather leave the country than live under him as my commander in chief.”

“And you would just abandon me? How rude. Even more so as a former sober companion.”

Jaime, for his part, also finds the courage to let Brienne in on his secrets, even the ones he kept so well for all those years, such as the true nature of Aerys’s assassination and Tyrion’s disappearance, and how it broke him that his brother went behind his back to kill their father and Tyrion’s ex-lover Shae before disappearing to Essos as it was planned to buy Jaime time to prove his innocence of Joffrey’s murder.

“What pissed me off foremost, though, was that he didn’t trust me. That was always the thing we relied on, that was stone one. That was our truce. He trusted me and that I trusted him. Blindly. Or so I thought. Because my smart, smart little brother didn’t trust me to clear his name. He didn’t trust me as his brother, as his friend, as the consultant he helped frame when he picked me up after the Aerys affair to offer me a new perspective. He believed he was the only one who could clear his name, and when Tyrion saw no chance anymore, he quitted, on himself, on me, on our work. And I will never forgive him for that. Well, that and murdering two people for the simplest and most basic motive there is: revenge.”

As things progress, it isn’t until long that they run into a hacker group called No One run by a man named Jaqen H’ghar. They “help” them on a number of occasions to gather evidence they could not otherwise acquire, in exchange for oftentimes publicly humiliating Jaime, such as carrying around a sign to encourage people to “Slay the Kingslayer with a Golden Slap,” a task many people happily agree to, apparently. The members remain ominous, only ever appearing in chats wearing masks. A young group member, a teenage girl, catches their attention as Brienne pieces together that this is in fact Arya Stark. Due to Brienne’s personal involvement with her family, she feels ever the more urged to help the girl and keep her from potentially committing worse crimes to carry out her revenge against the people she deems responsible for the deaths of most of her family.

However, Jaime’s and Brienne’s attention soon turns to politics as the elections come into the hot phase, only to be shocked to the core when a newcomer emerges from Essos to enter the race rather late: Daenerys Targaryen, the Mother of Dragons as she is called, wants to become president of the Seven Kingdoms alongside her rivals Stannis Baratheon and Cersei Lannister.

Things take a sudden turn with the re-emergence of someone Jaime thought he would never see again in a life time, and a nemesis who may no longer be just after the infamous consultant Tyrion Lannister but now the new detective team solving cases in King’s Landing.

And if history taught them one thing by now, then it is that this person will do anything to get what he or she wants. And from the sounds of it, that is one thing and one thing only:

Power.

A game of cat-and-mouse begins, putting everyone involved in danger as a country is bound to decide on who will come into power next…

Additonal Image Sources: Elementary ( 2012-), http://gwendoline-christie.com/.

#jaime x brienne #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #got moodboard #got aesthetic #moodboard #aesthetic #wacky tries gimp #fanfic #in smol #fanfiction #i just love elementary so much that i could not resist

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james-bucky-barnackle · 6 years ago

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Frostbite (Part 5)

Requested: can i request a fic between y/n and steve where they’re secret lovers but y/n chooses team iron man in civil war and then fast forward to infinity war she finds out about steve has moved on with nat. -@anon

Part 4 | Frostbite Masterlist

Pairing: Steve x reader

Warnings: angst is back sis

Word count: 5,572 (you’ll find out why its so damn long)

A/N: I really hope I don’t have a lot of typos in this one, because even I couldn’t handle what I’ve written lol (gifs not mine). Whenever I write this fic I listen to Katy Perry’s Thinking of you.

Thank you to everyone who congratulated me on my thesis!

His body was broken, his skin was cold, he was carrying himself and the body of his long-lost friend. He broke himself, and the woman he loved the most. He walked slow, his breath was heaving, his legs felt like they had loose screws on them, but he walked slow, because in the back of his mind, she would change hers and choose him. He walked so slow that days could easily turn into nights, nights dissolving into dawn, and back again. He walked so slow because he prayed she would turn around. He walked slow because he didn’t want to be too far off when she finally walked in his direction, his open arms at the ready. He walked so slow that everything around him had escalated so fast, until his mornings felt like the sun wasn’t present, like his nights were blindness sinking in. Until even he could remember how much time he’s spent on the earth. Until he started looking at other things, until he noticed the trees guiding him, until he considered the directions the river run against his feet pushing him elsewhere, until he stopped waiting for her, until he stopped leaving breadcrumbs for her to find, until he stopped thinking of her coming back.

_________________________________________

His stomach was doing somersaults, chest beating like a time bomb. Thankful that Y/N didn’t hear like a super soldier or she would’ve known. There she sat on the kitchen counter, and him on the other side. Telling her everything about him and her, everything- except them. Her eyes twinkling under the kitchen lights, her smile, ear to ear. Was this enough? She felt so right, but there was Nat. She was there, silent, in the shadows, she was what time passing made him notice. The direction the tree branches pointed to, the river runs pushing to, the person who made him stop walking so slow.

“I did what?!” Y/N was clutching her stomach like it was about to burst, trying to keep her laughter in from waking the others.

“You kept trying to sneak behind Bruce to get him to turn!” Steve replied, using his arm as a shield whenever she’d seemingly try to smack him when he made her laugh too hard. But the problem was, she never did. She’s never touched him since her hands frost before they made contact with his cheek. He felt obnoxious wanting to feel her skin against his, even if it meant he would get frostbite. He shook his head, no, stop.

“I can see myself doing that,” Y/N replied, shoving a mouthful of what’s left of the plate. “I was fun, huh?” She laughed, “Now all I ever do is lounge around my room doing nothing but medical check-ups and reading. You must miss her a lot.”

I do, Steve looked up. “That’s still you, you know.” She smiled back, shrugging.

“You all say that, but I feel like a grandma who’s forgotten her grandkids.” She looked down, playing with her fork, making patterns on the maple syrup left on the plate.

“Here you go again trying to take my titles, I’m the grandpa here.” He wished he could touch her hand, and he would. But when he lifted his hand, she pulled it to her lap, slyly, but he knew. “You’ll be fine, come ’on, you’ve already picked up the pace with everyone.” Everyone but him, even when they’ve spent the morning together, not quite. It wasn’t the miracle they both needed. His words didn’t break through her, she knew where she stood. She felt like an onlooker from the outside. Steve, Tony, Bruce and the others all in a painting hung at a gallery, looking peaceful and beautiful together, while she looked from the frame. But she smiled, she hid behind her laughs, as he hid behind his jokes.

“Got any pancakes left?” Steve felt like he had his own dose of amnesia, and was now snapped back with everything. Nat came in the room, and touched his shoulders, caressing them slowly. He turned to look at her.

“Of course, I’ll go ahead and make you some.” he stood up. Y/N quickly stood up, and excused herself, Steve’s lips parted, even when he didn’t want her to, he thought it would be better. Having her and Nat in the same room didn’t feel right, his heart didn’t feel right.

Afternoon came and Steve found himself underneath the oak tree, sketchpad in his lap and a pencil in his hand. He’s ripped the pages so many times, not knowing where he wanted the pencil lead to go, his scribbles becoming lost lines on the paper. He sighed deeply and pushed his head back against the bark. He walked slow, stopped, and now didn’t know where he was headed.

“Hey jerk!” a voice rung through his ears, warm and familiar, someone he trusted the most.

“Punk,” he nodded as he stood up to walk toward Bucky.

“How’s Y/N?”

“She’s great. She still hasn’t remembered,” was this sentence supposed to have the word: although in it? He bit his tongue. Buck pat his back, fully knowing what his best friend was going through, and as much as it pained him to say, he still decided he would.

“Maybe it’s a sign, a new beginning. At least she’s alive.” It was true, her life was more important than her memories.

“We ate breakfast together, she asked about us,” Steve stopped walking.

“What did you say?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“I told her I was her best friend,” Bucky knew from his tone that Steve wanted to tell Y/N more, but was proud of his strength nonetheless. But he knew that whatever choice he made, he’d be behind him, to support him. He gave Steve’s left shoulder a soft shake, his lips pressed into a thin line. Before he could reply, Steve continued, “Nat’s always been there for me, always.”

There was a flat line in his words, and Bucky could hear it, but he didn’t know what to say, all he knew was that he wasn’t there to push him into any direction. Steve would have to figure it on himself. “You’ll be there, later right?”

“Me? I don’t think Stark would be pleased if I missed it.” Bucky replied, he’s kept himself from Y/N, but if it meant to be there for Steve, he would.

Y/N lied on her bed staring at the ceiling. She hasn’t stepped foot in the balcony since that night. And she hasn’t seen the man in her visions since then too. Maybe he was a dream, she thought to herself, that maybe he was a dream, and he was just that. Maybe those blue eyes that she saw on the man in her visions were just her own making. She raised her arms up, and opened her palms, looking at them like they’re new, like she’s never seen them before. No matter how hard she thought about it, no matter how hard she focused, she could never get it to turn back. She pursed her lips and started to blow, but all that came out simply was air, frost not anywhere to be found. She sighed, another day not knowing how to be herself. Sometimes she laughed by herself thinking maybe everyone was playing a sick joke, maybe her powers weren’t ice, maybe it was something else, or nothing at all. But every day she still tried, secretly, not wanting Tony to think she was eager to get herself back, even when all she really wanted was to get her back.

She stood up, her feet bare walking towards the closet. She thought if she had to dress up, considering how the party would just be in the same building, with the same people. But she’d just have to at least look like she tried. She flipped through hangers, looking at clothes lined up, unfamiliar with each one. Every time she went there to change, she felt like she was looking through clothes in a store, everything still felt new.

There it was, a white sheer strapless dress, that had a deep v in the front. The fabric of crystal patterns, looking like shards of ice softly covering the dress, as if it was a soft thin layer of ice that had symmetrical cracks in it. It was beautiful. Even when she didn’t know who she was, she knew that dress defined her. She pulled it out of the rack and looked from top to bottom, it was her.

She examined herself on the mirror, putting dangling earrings that resemble snowflakes. Her hair was tied in a low ponytail, the curls falling on her back. And even when she’s spent so much sleeping, her under eyes displayed the opposite, she was pale, like her body was fresh from the freezer. She grabbed the blush on her vanity and spread the cream on her cheeks, then put a dash of red lipstick on her lips. Y/N didn’t think to put anything else, she doesn’t remember how she would’ve done it. What would she’d have looked like if she knew herself?

6:37PM that’s the number on her clock, she was 23 minutes early. She debated on heading out early, or staying in her room to wait until it was actually time. But she put on her clear stilettos and found herself walking to the kitchen. She knew he wouldn’t be there, but she still wanted to check. Maybe he’d be there. She shuddered, maybe she’s there too. He told her that he was her best friend, she didn’t understand what results she wanted, there was something about him that felt more. She was walking through the halls as if on a mission, maybe seeing him now, when she most wanted to, will clear up her mind. The hall was dark, everyone was getting ready in their own quarters, and even though he could very well be in his, she still had a little hope. Her heels clacked on the marble floor, she tried to walk lighter, but she didn’t even have the skill to walk properly in them, let alone control how it hit the floor. She heard shuffling in the kitchen, maybe he was there.

*Thud* She hits someone’s back, suddenly the hot cup of coffee he’s been holding in his hand, flies free.

“Oh- I’m so-ooorry!” and before it could even hit the floor, Y/N held her hand out and it turned into a brown shard of ice. Smoke seeping through the newly solidified liquid. When she looks up, she sees Bucky, his face distraught, she gasps.

“Bucky,” he heard her say. She’s never said his name, she’s never had to, because she’s never seen him close, besides the night she attended dinner with them. But he’s never been one to converse with her. “I-uh, I didn’t see you, it was dark and I” he stared back at her, “I’m gonna stop making excuses.” She crept down to pick up the cup which stuck halfway to the ground, the coffee iced spewing out of it, looking like one of those art exhibits.

“I’ll make you a new one,” she sighed, lucky it didn’t break. Bucky quickly took the cup from her hands, and turned his back away from her. The panic she felt from the mug falling fogged the realization that she just used her powers, but Bucky’s heart quickened, did anyone know about this? He didn’t know if she was already using her skill again.

“It’s fine, I’ll do it.” his voice was rigid, he didn’t sound friendly, but it was just because he didn’t know how to be around her. Does she remember him? The person Steve chose to side with and leave her? He was scared she’d remember, he wouldn’t know how to deal with it. He didn’t want to be her trigger. Hurting her was like hurting Steve.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s the least I could do,” she followed him through the kitchen.

“I said, it’s okay. Just let me be,” Y/N’s never had anyone in the building shove her off, for some weird reason, this peaked her interest, she wanted to know why. Bucky placed the cup with the brown ice on the sink, and proceeded to grab a new mug from the kitchen cabinet. “Why are you even here? Party’s down stairs.”

“I thought I’d walk around, try to ease my nerves,” her voice was quiet, almost like a whisper, like she was caught in a lie. “What about you? Why are you here? Don’t you think it’s too late for coffee?” Her cheeks heated up, it felt rude to ask too many questions, she didn’t want to make a bad impression, he was Steve’s best friend after all. And if he was, then maybe he knew things about her too, we must’ve been friends somehow, she thought.

“I don’t sleep,” she looked at him funny, he thought he’d explain better. “It used to be, I can’t sleep, but I could never overcome it, so I just don’t sleep.”

“Oh,” was all she could reply.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine, you don’t have to be nervous about anything.” Bucky spoke, pouring himself another cup. “Go.” he said politely, not wanting to offend her. Even with him silently pushing her away to keep her safe from triggering anything wrong, it only made her want to stay. No one’s ever pushed her aside before, for once she felt normal, like she wasn’t a sick child needing attention.

“I think I’ll go grab a drink myself,” Her tone was fragile, not like the woman who he heard talk to Steve when he was covered in ice in Siberia. Here she was like a lost child, her fingers gripped her other arm, and was tapping at her skin, and it clicked. She was looking for Steve. Bucky felt his heart ache a little, but he shouldn’t be doing this, considering that their only interaction could lead to triggering memories that weren’t pleasant. He turned back cold. His feelings swerving left and right, what was he to do?

She continued farther into the kitchen and gotten herself a mug from the same cabinet Bucky got his from and started to pour coffee into it. His mood started to change, this was gonna be interesting.

“What are you doing? You hate coffee.” Bucky arched an eyebrow, he knew this based off Steve’s stories when they still were together, or at least, when they were meeting at the balcony every past midnight. Bucky’s remark felt like a challenge, Y/N quickly let go of her stupidity, she didn’t find Steve here, and it’s okay, maybe he was with her, his redhead lover. She didn’t want to sulk.

“I did? Wait, what do you know? I could like it now, I’m a changed woman.” she waves her hand, Bucky’s amused and proceeds drinking. Y/N slowly brings the cup to her mouth, the brim touching her lip, he’s looking at her expectantly, like he knows exactly what’s about to happen. She finally takes a sip, surprisingly it’s a long one. Her eyebrows wiggle like they’re doing a dance. Her expression changes, the moment she distances the cup from her face. She didn’t remember drinking coffee, but it felt like getting to know herself.

“Hey, this isn’t so bad,” Bucky brings his mug down, not knowing what just happened. I guess Steve was wrong, or maybe he was right, at some point. “This is” she’s now pointing the mug towards him, “actually good. I guess the old me was missing out.” she says as she swigged more. Bucky’s lips turned, he was glad the lights were dim. He covered it by drinking his coffee, just in case.

“You should go,” he then said, not wanting to be in close contact with her any longer, and to his surprise, it was easy. But it was only because she got it through her thick skull that he just didn’t want her around. She started walking out, and stopped by the edge of the hall to give him a shy wave, “bye kid.”

She walked back, not knowing if she accomplished anything. But she guessed she’d just have to see Steve at the party. Y/N didn’t realize that Bucky also had steel blue eyes, and maybe she only ever noticed Steve’s. She shook her head, she didn’t want to think about Steve any longer, her fascination was becoming unhealthy. It was 7:05, it was time to head down.

Nat was serving drinks on the counter, as per usual while Steve sat across her; Tony was with Rhodey, and a couple of other people; and Thor was talking to Bruce about their time in Sakaar. Wanda was seated on the couch with Vision, talking quietly as Peter kept piping in. The room was filled of chatter, though it seems like the event hasn’t started yet. Bucky walked in and took a seat next to Steve, declining Nat’s offer for a drink.

“Buck, where were you?” Steve said lightly punching his arm.

“Had to get a cup of coffee,” Bucky smiled, gently, his lips in a thin line. Should he tell Steve that he saw Y/N? That she used her frost on him?

“We both know it’s as useless as alcohol to our bodies, it’s not gonna budge.” his face etched concern. Bucky just shrugged, maybe not or at least, not yet, but Steve figured his silence was just how he really was, keeping to himself, unless well, when Sam came around, just like he was now. He was dancing to the music playing in the background, making his way to the bar where they were and taking the drink Nat offered Bucky.

“What are you guys doing sitting down? This is a party!” he grabs shot filled glasses from the counter handing them to the two super soldiers and forcing them to clink their glasses with him, making them both chuckle.

“The party’s not starting until the person we’ve thrown it for arrives,” Nat sneaked in. Steve raised his glass in agreement, and Sam playfully raised his hands in a surrender. It was as if it was on cue when she appeared through the doorway.

Y/N looked beautiful, like an oasis in the middle of the desert. Her dress hugged the her body beautifully, and her hair was styled perfectly not covering her face. Her lips were red, gushing, like a drop of blood, her hair had ice crystals in them, shining like glitters; just like the stars in the deep night. Steve’s heart stopped, she wore the same dress she did that day.

_____

“Are you sure this is alright?”

“You look amazing, Y/N,” Steve breathed, as he walked closer admiring her. He lifted his hand and tucked a hair behind her ear.

“You too, Cap.” his lips opened into a smile, teeth blinding.

“Steve- you know I hate it when you call me that.”

“Steve”

“Music to my ears.”

It was Tony and Pepper’s engagement party, everyone was getting ready to leave, and there they were on the balcony. The night sky blanketing them, the stars twinkling, and her ____ eyes looking into his.

“I got you something,” he said as he pulled out a baby pink camellia and twirled it in his fingers. She smiled, her heart over the moon. She bit her lip, her smile contagious as he put it in the tangles of her hair, blending in with her makeup, Wanda had so beautifully done. She looked like an angel. She put her hand on his shoulders, intertwining them as the pulled him closer, her hands now behind his neck. Steve moved his head closer, their foreheads touching. He put his hands on her waist, and she smiled, even more so. She stared into his eyes, deep blue, glistening like ice, his heart never felt younger. She closed her eyes, and Steve slowly nudged his nose touching the tip of hers, and I guess you could say she got impatient when she closed the space between them.

Their kiss was light, gentle, as if any one of them would disintegrate with one wrong move, but they already were. Y/N’s waited for this for so long, and here he was on her lips. Steve couldn’t even begin to think how he’d end up under the stars with her, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. His lips felt like flower petals, soft and warm, during the summer time, delicate and sweet. When their kiss ended, she didn’t let go, Steve pulled her into a hug, her head resting on her shoulder as they swayed to the sound of street traffic, their first kiss.

_____

“There she is!” Tony shouted, as he walked closer, pulling her into the crowd. She smiled at the sight of Tony, he was the one she trusted the most. Here he was ushering her into talking to everyone, his breath smelling a little bit of whiskey, but she didn’t mind.

“What are we celebrating?” she asked, shy and a little nervous at having to socialize with so many people.

“Honey, it’s for you, for waking up.” he put his hand up, knowing fully well that Y/N would oppose, “And I know its late, but I wouldn’t want to invite a bunch of people and let it be an acquaintance party. I needed you to at least feel a little more comfortable.”

“Me in a room full of people, forcing me to socialize? I don’t think it’s a good idea, Tony.”

“I told you,” Bruce was behind them, he smiled at Y/N and handed her a drink, which she gladly accepted, she needed this.

“Disappear greenie, I don’t remember including you in this conversation,” he rolled his eyes.

“Well I’m here, aren’t I?” she interrupted, “Just keep an eye out for me, if I start looking stupid okay?” She wouldn’t want to be trapped talking with only the two of them, she’s always been with them at the lab. Even when she was anxious to be there, she still wouldn’t miss seeing everybody, she wouldn’t miss seeing him.

As they walked to where Wanda was, she glanced at the bar and looked at Steve, giving him a shy smile before turning back to the direction of the sofa. He immediately looked down, there wasn’t anything wrong about looking at her, but the way his mind processed his vision very much reacted differently. Bucky looked at his comrade, reeling his sadness in and wishing he could fix it, but not before he noticed Natasha’s smile slip away. He knew she wasn’t stupid.

“Y/N! You look so beautiful!” Wanda stood up to greet her. Y/N felt a shock when she was pulled into a hug, her heart beating fast, she’s never touched anyone before, happy that Wanda didn’t turn into ice. “Come take a seat,” she said as she scooted over giving her space even though there was plenty more room on the U-shaped sofa.

“You look amazing as well, Wanda.” she wore a red dress that had long sleeves with the back open, and her hair resting neatly on her shoulders. Her lips fiery red. “Hi Vision! Nice to see you again, I’m sorry for declining you and Wanda’s cooking sessions! I promise to make it up to you guys soon!”

“No worries, Y/N. It’s alright, join us when you’re ready.” he smiled back.

There was silence, she didn’t know the other person on the end of the seat, and she was so shy to even look who at who it was, not knowing his name. She let out a sigh of relief when he spoke first.

“I’m Peter! You probably don’t remember me, but you used to train me.” She gasped, he looked too precious for this world, and here he was offering his hand as she gladly accepted to shake. He looked so young, and she felt immediately guilty not remembering him. Surprised that she even mentored anybody. Peter probably now knows much more than her with fighting.

“Was I a good mentor?” she asked.

“You were amazing! We used to race through the combat room! You created ice slides, and I swung on my webs,” he was beaming, his excitement was contagious, she wanted him to keep talking, in a way he didn’t make her feel like a fish out of water. “It honestly didn’t even feel like we were training, it was so fun.” It did sound fun, and she wished she could be that again, it felt straight out of a fiction book, ice slides and races, but she guessed nothing was impossible anymore.

“Maybe now that I don’t know anything, you could mentor me.” Peter was slapjawed, his excitement was through the roof.

“Really?!” the excitement in his voice made Y/N jump and she smirked, nodding slowly. “Oh you don’t know how hyped I am for this!” he started shuffling in his chair, fist in the air.

“What’s that kid?” Tony walked closer, having heard the conversation. Rhodey followed behind him.

“Y/N can’t even zap her powers back, and you’re gonna mentor her?” He teased.

“What?! You… can’t-” Peter stuttered. Y/N just kept silent, biting her lip, on her own little secret.

“Unless you can get her powers back, no mentoring in this building.” Tony replied pointing his glass as Peter.

“Actually, uhm,” Y/N began to speak, realizing it was something she shouldn’t hide. “I turned something into ice earlier,” Tony plopped down on the couch suddenly. His eyebrows furrowed, not fully understanding if it was a joke. “It wasn’t on purpose; the coffee fell and I-”

“You don’t drink coffee,” Bruce chimed in, they started making themselves comfortable around the sofa, the party was thrown for her after all. Sam noticed the group on the other side of the room snuggling closer and decided to join, tilting his head slightly, signaling the others to walk with him. Steve stood up, and kissed Nat’s cheek.

“Come on,” he said, Nat smiled and politely declined, her phone beeping, she excused herself to take the call. “Okay. Come back quick.”

“I will,” she nodded as she walked out to go somewhere private. Steve turned to Bucky.

“What about you?”

“I’m -uh, good here, think I changed my mind about declining getting drinks. I’ll catch up later.” He sat there, alone by himself, swirling a glass focusing intently on the ice, ever so slightly making contact with the edge. Steve and Sam ushered on.

Y/N breathed a low laugh, feeling conscious that everyone was starting to nestle themselves around her. “It wasn’t mine, I b-bumped into Bucky and before the cup hit the floor... I froze it.” she shook her head, still in disbelief at what happened. Steve didn’t need to walk any closer to hear what she said, Sam looked at him, analyzing him, what was he thinking? Y/N peered her head through the crowd to look for Bucky, as she said his name in the story, but he wasn’t looking back at her, neither was he near enough to even notice her. Her head focused on something else instead, it was Steve, looking at her. She smiled at him, and looked back into the people around the sofa.

Tony’s eyes widened, realizing that Y/N’s powers came back in the same moment as she made contact with Bucky. He didn’t know how to respond, and even when they’ve had so much bad blood in the past and that they’ve put closure on it, Bucky was still someone that concerned him when it came to Y/N. She wasn’t around to know anything that had happened in the past year, if she ever remembered anything, her memories would only be up until the infinity war. He glanced at Bruce, who had the same expression.

“Y/N do you think you could come by the lab tomorrow? So, we could have that checked out?” Bruce inquired. The room fell silent, the air felt cold and serious, and for once, Tony was glad he invited this kid.

“Yes! We could finally start making ice slides again!” Peter shouted, Y/N broke into a fit of laughter, her mood quickly altered, and so was everybody else’s, but mostly it was relief.

“Yeah, sure.” She blushed, feeling like she’s just unlocked something about herself. She felt nice.

Hours had passed and everyone was tipsy over drinks and stories, most of the agents that were invited have gone home, the avengers the only people left, all sludge down on either the couch or the floor. Tony had scolded Peter so many times to retire to his bed, but it wasn’t enough. Y/N didn’t want him to, she loved the stories that came from his mouth, candid and fun - and hearing him tell it, didn’t feel like they were talking about someone dead. Sam also took on the show, joking around and openly trying to flirt with agent Maria, who only ever rejected him even after so many tries.

“You’ll regret this, you know that sweetcakes,”

“Sweetcakes?” she rolled her eyes.

“What?”, everyone’s drunken laughter echoed through the room.

Nat was feeling a little adventurous, secretly spiking Peter’s sprite with vodka, unbeknownst to everyone, and made the kid a lot more talkative than usual. No one else even noticed since they were all hot and bothered themselves. Bruce kept excusing himself to go to the bathroom, his bladder never being strong enough to hold alcohol in. When he came back, he almost fell when he walked past Nat to get to his seat, giving her an apologetic smile when he’d sat back down. Peter was quick to notice.

“Nat how do you did you do it?” Peter asked, Nat raised her eyebrows, not knowing what he meant. “How did you turn the Hulk back? I always distanced myself when were on a mission,” he gave Bruce a quick look, “No offense Dr. Banner, huge fan. Just wanted to know.” he shrugged, his boyish laugh shielding him from any disdain. Natasha felt her cheeks heat, but she smiled warmly at the memory, she didn’t really do that anymore, Tony gave Bruce a device that would help him control himself. Tony was quick to invent it especially when Nat went rogue with Steve and no one else could help Bruce turn back. But before she could answer, Vision interrupted.

“We grow calm in the presence of those we care the most,” Sam’s eyes grew wide. He felt like something was gonna go wrong.

“You didn’t tell me you and Nat were a thing?” Y/N inquired. Everyone laughed on, but Sam perfectly knew that this route wasn’t heading anywhere good. His nostrils flared at Vision, shook his head ever so slightly to beg for his silence.

Bruce shook his head, “It was a long time ago,” he smiled at Nat who returned the gesture, her head resting on Steve’s shoulder.

“Wait!” Peter held his index finger up, and faced Y/N, Sam stood up from the floor, he knew no signals would be able to stop him. “Didn’t you use to gush about the flowers that Steve gave you?”

“Okay kid, I think it’s time for bed,” Sam shouted, thinking that maybe his loud voice might swallow the room into a different current. Y/N’s eyes darted at Sam, then Steve. Her body completely sober, was this some sick joke? Steve’s heart dropped, and Nat could feel it, her head near his chest, hearing how the super soldier started breathing faster than she’s ever known.

“No! She used to tell me stories every time we met for training.” Tony now stood up and pulled Peter by the arm, Sam nodding at him, they rarely agreed with each other, but this time, it was a pit they could possibly not get out of.

“Peter, come on. Who spiked his drink? Real mature guys,” Tony put Peter’s arm around him, as he continued defending himself of his sobriety. “Hey tinman, want to help me carry this child?” Bucky didn’t dare move from where he sat, even when he wanted to help, he knew him being there would cause more amok, but he knew Stark’s request was the best excuse for him to be out there. Tony then gave Sam one look as he walked out with the kid, and Sam stayed, fully knowing what he’d just asked of him.

“W-what?” Y/N spoke, her voice cracking, her heart was breaking, the pain in her chest extreme. She couldn’t breathe, but he looked at Steve, her eyes pleading, tell me, please.

Steve looked back, his eyes brimming with tears, he tried to blink fast to try to stop it. His mouth was dry still not knowing what to reply, his mind not registering the events that had just happened. His fingers that intertwined with Nat loosened. Everyone in the room was silent, they felt like intruders, but they couldn’t move, they were stuck in the moment, curious to what’s going to happen next. Natasha’s heart sank, she stood up and pulled herself away from Steve, her eyes full of tears as soon as she turned her back. Steve’s breath hitched, he gave Y/N one last look before standing up and following the redhead who’s just left the room.

And finally, Y/N’s eyes broke like a bubble, her face blank, but her tears reeling like waterfalls, embarrassed.

PART 6

PS: Please tell me what you think in the replies, I value your opinions whenever I write future parts! :( Reblogs are very much appreciated I love you guys!

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seakittens · 6 years ago

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Free! vs. Toxic Masculinity

So I was thinking the other day about how people always project negative stereotypes on Free, accusing it of queerbaiting and shallowness and other things of that nature. I disagree with most of this, and wanted to take an opportunity to highlight something that I think Free does really well compared to other sportsani or shows primarily focused on guys. Something that I think sets it apart from other shows considered fangirl-bait. And that’s the way it deals with and confronts concepts of toxic masculinity.

I am not going to provide a whole explanation of toxic masculinity. If you want a full refresher, watch this. But for the sake of this discussion, it’s the idea that traits such as showing emotion, non-aggressive friendships and likes associated with femininity (flowers, love of fluffy things, children) are “feminine-coded” and therefore bad for a man to embrace. Toxic masculinity champions men who shun emotions, turn friendships into competitions and reject “girly” likes.

So how does Free handle this concept? Well, first I’d like to point out that I think part of the answer to this is why I reject the notion that Free (the show, not the marketing) is shipbaiting. I believe the intent of Free is just to portray relationships. It just so happens that these male relationships are different than what most audiences are used to when it comes to male friendships, and the result is behavior that people extrapolate to mean more. I’m not saying this extrapolation is wrong, just that I don’t believe it’s the show’s intent. Free wants to tell a story about friendship, about male friendship, about healthy, positive male friendship. And that’s something that simply just isn’t done often.

Most male friendships in anime are characterized by competition and that competition is viewed, in many cases but not all, as a negative thing. A thing that must be overcome in order for a deeper friendship to result. The push is that the characters stop seeing each other as something to overcome. You will find this in most shonen anime, which honestly has some of the deepest male friendships.

Free turns this concept on its head. Obviously, you have the deep childhood friendship between Makoto and Haruka, which is characterized by support and trust but without the senpai trope that is usually attached to male friendships of this nature. You have the friendships between Nagisa and Haruka, which should be the annoying shota and the tsundere, but Haruka thinks highly of Nagisa and really grows based on his insight. Again, there’s is not so much the senpai trope because as much as Nagisa idolizes Haruka, he also teaches him.

And then you have Free’s champion of rejecting toxic masculinity: Rin. Rin is a character defined by emotions. And while some are the typical masculine aggressiveness and competitiveness, he’s also known for his sensitivity, tears, and tendency to burst into flowery speeches about love and friendship. Rin is framed as your typical jock in his skill, build and even shark-tooth antagonist aesthetic. But his personality is anything but.

Rin’s tears are not mocked but embraced. They are viewed as a positive thing by other men. Haruka encourages them, to the point of smiling when he sees Rin shed them. Sousuke encourages them, even to the point of giving Rin space so he can cry. Rin openly cries at romantic movies, overt displays of friendship and sheer happiness. This embracing of male tears is why the odd line from Makoto to Nagisa in ES 13 feels so jarring. "Boys don't cry." I don't even have an answer for that one. It was just 0_o.

Yes, Rin is embarrassed and tries to hide his tears because Rin is still tied up in biases of masculinity, the same way he tries to defend himself when he's being too sappy, but that Rin can still bring himself to shed them is significant. Rin does have traces of toxic masculinity as a result of his character trope. Rin has grown up without his father and assuming he had to be "man of the house."

But Rin is also presented as the guy who loves flowers and romance, adopts stray cats and talks about dreams. Again, this goes very much against the image Rin presents as the jock bad boy. It's much different that the typical depiction of male friendships as dudes being jerks to each other even when they're bros.

But, Kitty, you cry, Rin is a jerk in S1 of Free. Right, you are. And this is viewed as an aberration to Rin's original personality and something that must be understood, and with help, overcome. That is the plot of S1. That Rin is the jerky rival is the trope. The twist is that Rin is not actually the jerky rival and is actually emotionally trouble and under the impression that his previous sentiments were wrong. Something he abandons in S1.

So supportive male relationships are the key to both the climax in S1 and in S2, with Haruka's anxieties. Which is nice to see and a theme that I hope continues in S3.

Then we have Rin and Haruka's relationship. This is probably my favorite part about how Free tackles toxic masculinity. Free takes the perceived main conflict of Rin vs. Haruka's rivalry (whereupon you expect it to resolve when Haruka wins) and makes it more about learning why the negativity of that rivalry is WRONG. So the conclusion to the conflict isn't a final match or even RH working together to defeat a bigger conflict. It's literally just resolving the negativity itself, which is Rin's fear of unimportance to Haruka and Haruka's inability to tell Rin how he really feels. In fact, this confused many original fans who expected the conflict to end with Haruka realizing he doesn't need to fight Rin and then walking away from the rivalry. But the show instead says it's not the rivalry that's the problem, it's the way in which the rivalry is expressed. Which was through toxic masculinity. Rin's need to defeat Haruka.

Once this problem is resolved, the rivalry is less about defeating the other and more about pushing each other to their limits. Which is a supportive rivalry.

Usually in sports anime, the conflict is resolved by defeating the rival and this makes the rival reassess the main and declare them worthy. This creates a deeper relationship that allows them to compete on a more even ground. But Free doesn't care about who wins. It's not about that. It's about the relationship of the characters. Which is why even though in S1, the characters win the race, they are ultimately disqualified. Because the results don't matter. What mattered was resolving the emotional conflict between Rin and Haruka.

And the end result is the extreme example of the opposite of toxic masculinity, which is Rin openly crying, showing physical affection and showing how happy he is to be with his friends again. It's not couched in any shows of feigned masculinity either. Rin doesn't get all flustered by his actions. He openly embraces them. None of the guys is embarrassed; they're just all so happy to be friends again.

Which is why Free leaves so many, including me, with such a positive message. While the latter parts of the series didn't execute this nearly as effectively, they have their overall theme of supportive male relationships amid sports. And I do appreciate how this is carried over into S2 in that Rin's drive to race Haruka is still not about defeating him, but about pushing Haruka to realize just what he can accomplish. Rin doesn't want to defeat Haruka; Rin simply wants to race with Haruka because it makes him happy. And that, in itself, is a really powerful message for male relationships.

Traditional sports anime would have Haruka realize he doesn't NEED to defeat Rin and that he doesn't need their rivalry and leave Rin to stew with his own feelings until he has some sort of epiphany but Free DOUBLES DOWN on the rivalry and says no Haruka DOES need the rivalry to grow. Rin and Haruka beating each other is never treated as a BIG thing, save the time that it was shown as a NEGATIVE thing because of WHY Rin wanted it. The win almost never matters, and it's very important that Haruka's loss isn't a matter of losing to a rival, it's a matter of losing RIN.

So when the whole "it made me just as happy" scene occurs, people might originally think it suggests that anime will take the traditional sports anime route. But Free INVERTS that by having Haruka double down on his need for Rin and their friendship. And yes, Haruka needed to learn HOW to express himself through Iwatobi to be able to reach Rin on that level, so Iwatobi is crucial to the resolution. The show is all about embracing your emotions and opening up. Which is a direct contrast to how men are usually expected to behave.

Then, of course, we have the powerful scenes in ES 12, where Rin openly admits his admiration for his rival. It’s usually something we see a junior say to a senior, not someone his own age. So it means a lot here in terms of openness amid male friendship and healthy rivalry.

But aside from Rin, who pretty much constantly ruins his image with his emotional nature, the Free boys are not concerned with typical notions of masculinity. In fact, in the rare occasions they are, it's almost jarring. So it's not just the overall absence of toxic masculinity that makes Free stand out, but also, unlike other female-targeted shows, it actively CONFRONTS toxic masculinity and shows how it can be overcome. At least to a certain extent.

Oh yeah, I must also point out that I'm not sure if this was Utsumi's original intent or if just a result of her lack of male bias and desire to tell a story exclusively focused on male relationships. We see Kawanami continue this tradition in TYM when Rin is so happy at the idea of just being able to swim with Haruka one more time before he leaves for Australia. "Swimming with you is a great enough surprise." Looking forward to more examples moving forward.

#meta

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rockscanfly · 7 years ago

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i fear no fate (for you are my fate)

Chapter 2 of and this is the wonder thats keeping the stars apart (i carry your heart) is up!

Story Summary: Like all Atlanteans, Kaldur was born with his heart outside of his chest. (Monster AU where Kaldur's immortal as long as his heart stays frozen. Which is fine--all he has to do is never fall in love. But then he meets Roy, an escaped simulacron trying to find a way to become A Real Boy (TM), and things go downhill from there)

Chapter 2 Summary: Roy meets Kaldur, Kaldur meets Roy. They become friends, assemble a family, and fight crime.

Read here or below the cut!

A coward would have thought twice about interrupting two sorceress’s midnight mid-term study session to seek a personal favor. Especially if one of said sorceresses was from one of the most powerful magical lines to walk the Surface Realms, and the other was a kinetimancer who could cut off your oxygen supply and send you through a wall with a flick of her wrist.

Kaldur’ahm of Shayeris was no coward.

But Sha’lain’a of Shayeris had not raised a fool, so he made sure to bring two bottles of wine when he knocked on the door to their suite.

(‘It’s super good, I promise’ Dick had assured him earlier that day while Wally perused the snack selection. They were shopping at the liquor store down the block from the Conservatory, and Kaldur was still baffled by the sheer variety of ways that the surface dwelling races had come up with to poison themselves. Richard patted Kaldur’s arm companionably. ‘Everyone loves Moscato, trust me.’)

Raquel opened the door, eyes wide and slightly crazed. She had a half-eaten stalk of celery in her hand, which Kaldur thought she was holding rather like a large knife. She glanced at Kaldur, then down at wine bottles peeking out of the bag he held. “Zee,” she shouted over her shoulder. “I’m breaking up with you and eloping with Kaldur!”

“What? Why?” Zatanna called back from their living room. “I mean, yeah, who wouldn’t, but why now specifically?”

Raquel tugged Kaldur into the door, lifting his arm up by the wrist to display the bag to her girlfriend. “He brought wine.”

Zatanna hopped up from her spot on the floor. Judging by the array of papers surrounding her Kaldur couldn’t quite guess if she was in the middle of a midterm or a spell. Then again, it was probably both. “Let me see that,” Zatanna muttered, reaching into the bag. “Moscato? Oh, honey, you’re not eloping with Kaldur. I’m eloping with Kaldur.”

Raquel pecked her on the cheek, snatching the other bottle and padding to the kitchen for some glasses. “We’ll do it in Utah. Make it a three-way affair.”

Kaldur cleared his throat. “While I am flattered,” he said, standing stiff and formal, “I am afraid you ladies are too late.”

Zatanna gasped, collapsing back on the couch. “Oh, Kaldur’ahm,” she exclaimed. “Say it isn’t so!”

“Yes,” Kaldur said, voice grave. “I am afraid my heart belongs to...another.”

Wine poured, Raquel set both glasses on the coffee table before draping herself dramatically over the couch arm. The position also, conveniently, allowed her to rest her head against Zatanna’s chest. “And who has stolen our noble knight’s heart?”

Kaldur kept his eyes glued to the wall. “The most beautiful of all beings,” he said grimly. “The sea.”

Zatanna cackled, and Kaldur ducked, laughing, as Raquel launched several couch pillows at his head with a wave of her hand. “You cheeseball!” She yelled, giggling helplessly.

The three of them settled down, the two women scootching aside on the couch to make room for their guest. Kaldur instead chose to sit a wooden stool from the kitchen. Zatanna rolled her eyes at him, but didn’t comment. Getting Kaldur to share the couch with them was a battle she and Raquel had stopped trying to fight months ago.

“Thanks for the break,” Zatanna said instead. “I think if I had to memorize one more Sumerian symbol I was going to blow up half the building out of frustration.”

Kaldur shrugged. “I heard from Wally that you two were in need of respite.” He fidgeted, crossing and uncrossing his legs at Raquel’s ‘Really?’ look. “And I am in need of your assistance,” he admitted.

Zatanna shifted, settling so Raquel’s head was in her lap. “I don't really have the time to make a charm right now,” she said slowly. “Once Monday is over, I can, but you're going to have to wait until then.”

“It's not time sensitive,” Kaldur assured.

“What is it?” Raquel questioned, smiling contently as Zatanna ran her fingertips through her hair.

Kaldur resisted the urge to touch his neck. He held up a hand, spreading his fingers to emphasize the webbing that joined his fingers. “I would like a charm that allows me to appear human,” he said simply. “I have been at the Conservatory for half a year now, and while it's been fascinating…” Kaldur trailed off, suddenly self-conscious.

“It wasn't what you had in mind when you came to the surface,” Raquel finished for him. “You want to see what it's actually like up here, huh?”

Kaldur flushed. Raquel had always been disturbingly good at reading him. “Yes.”

Zatanna hmm’d, heels tapping lightly against the couch as the wheels turned over in her head. “This is pretty rude, Kal,” she complained. “Here I am trying to pass my Sumerian Constructs class and you're tossing something this interesting my way.”

Raquel pinched her. “You've got an A, Zee. Trying to play humble when we all know you're a genius. Besides,” Raquel turned to grin wickedly at Kaldur. “Be nice to Kaldur—he’s cute.”

Kaldur flushed. Raquel had enjoyed teasing him since they first met, exclaiming that there was finally someone worth looking at in ‘Grayson’s little posse’. It was harmless, he knew. Raquel and Zatanna had been together since their first year at the American Conservatory for the Sorcerous Arts. Three years later both women were moving into their Master’s studies and were each known in their own right as two of the most powerful sorcerers of their generation.

Zatanna, who was descended from two powerful bloodlines—Turkish on her mother’s side and Italian on her father’s—was an advanced scholar in Ancient Rites and anthropology. Her current work centered around reviving and modernizing rituals from Mesopotamia and Egypt. She was also skilled in the art of enchantment, and supplemented her income as a researcher by selling useful charms.

Raquel’s work was equally brilliant but opposite in direction to her partner’s. She was a leader amongst a growing group of sorcerers who married science and magic in their work. Her area of research was the use of magic to convert kinetic energy into static structures. She had grown up in Dakota City, a major center of industry and home to one of their country’s best known applied physics laboratories, and the influence continued with her when she moved to Gotham to study at the Conservatory.

They had met Kaldur at a seminar on ancient Mesopotamian sorcery. Zatanna had been there for her studies, Raquel for some precious qualtiy time with her girlfriend, and Kaldur in his role as the Atlantean envoy to the Conservatory. They had hit it off at the reception, especially when Zatanna realized that Kaldur was the ‘reserved fish guy’ currently sharing a suite with her close childhood friend Richard Grayson.

Richard Grayson, who was apprenticed to Bruce Wayne. Wayne was a powerful Warlock and one of the few surface dwellers with connections to the Atlantean Royal Family. When Kaldur’ahm had expressed his desire to serve as an envoy to the Surface Realms for Atlantis, Queen Mera had arranged for Kaldur to stay and learn at the American Conservatory for the Sorcerous Arts for his first three years, so that he could gain a understanding of their magic and culture. Wayne had been contacted to serve as Kaldur’s sponsor, a role he could fill as a sitting member of the Council on Magic that governed sorcerous affairs on the Surface.

Kaldur’ahm had lived with Richard at the Conservatory for half a year at this point, and it was no accident that his and the apprentice’s social circles overlapped almost completely. Wayne was a powerful man with an understandable caution towards the mysterious and secretive Atlanteans, of whom only rumor and conjecture were really well known. He had made sure that his apprentice kept an eye on their visitor.

Kaldur’ahm understood the man’s caution, and was not offended. Atlanteans were secretive, yes, and for good reason. The secret of their hearts and immortality was not something the Atlantean Crown wished to be widely known to those who dwelled on the surface. Atlanteans were powerful, yes. But if enough surface dwellers got it into their mind to search the world’s oceans for the hearts of unbound Atlanteans, it could spell catastrophe for their species.

A sharp rapping on the window interrupted the girls’ teasing and banished the cloud of Kaldur’s thoughts. Kaldur blinked, surprised to see a blonde woman hanging from a rope outside of the living room window.

“I think you have a visitor,” he said, pointing over Zatanna’s shoulder, unsure if this sort of thing even counted as unusual behavior. Six months on the Surface and Kaldur still found himself constantly awed by the things the people above the sea found ‘normal’.

Zatanna turned, jumping in surprise when she saw the woman making an impatient face at her from outside her window. “Artemis?”

Raquel bolted upright, vaulting the couch to open the window. “Crazy, how many times to I have to tell you to stop appearing outside out of windows?”

The woman slipped nimbly from the rope into the room, flipping her long ponytail over her shoulder and embracing Raquel warmly. “First off? I’m still banned from your campus. Second? I brought a friend. And he’s not exactly fond of authority figures right now. There was no way we were signing in at the front desk.”

Raquel hugged the woman back. “And where’s this friend?”

The woman looked pointedly at Kaldur. “I’ll show you mine when you show me yours. Who’s this?”

Kaldur stood, bowing formally. “My name is Kaldur’ahm of Shayeris. I am of friend of Zatanna and Raquel’s.” He looked up, raising a brow. “And I must assume, so are you.”

Zatanna groaned, sitting up and leaning over the back of the couch. She beckoned the woman over for a hug. “He’s cool, Artemis. Kaldur trusts ‘the man’ here about as much as you do. He’s Atlantean.”

The woman—Artemis—relaxed, giving Zatanna the hug as commanded. “I thought you guys were supposed to be fish people,” she said to Kaldur. “You look pretty normal to me.”

Kaldur sighed, pulling down his high collar with one hand and presenting his spread fingers with the other. It wasn’t the first time a mannerless Surface dweller had inquired about his looks, and he doubted it would be the last. “Some of us look more aquatic than others,” he said, tone level. “Though I do find the assumption odd, considering Atlanteans are not under the impression that Surface dwellers share the traits of land dwelling animals.”

Artemis turned to look at Raquel, who was at this point leaning out the window to try and catch a glimpse of Artemis’ friend. “He’s sassy. I like him.”

“Us too,” Raquel answered, then called up the rope. “Hey! You can come down now—we don’t bite.”

Artemis sighed, pulling back from Zatanna. She leaned out next to Raquel, yanking sharply on the rope. “It’s good, Red!” She called up. “These guys can help.”

Moments later a man slid down the rope, rolling into the room and crouching to stay below the sightlines of the window. “Shut the blinds,” he hissed to Artemis.

She did so, nudging him with her foot once the view to the nighttime cityscape was fully blocked. “Up, you paranoid drama queen.”

The man stood, crossing impressively muscled arms. “It’s not paranoia if they’re after you, Blondie.”

Artemis sighed, grasping the man by the shoulder and tugging him over center of the room. “Ladies, fishsticks, meet Roy Harper. Well, a Roy Harper.”

Zatanna got up from the couch, circling the man who stood tensely. “Weren’t you kidnapped a few years ago?”

“No,” Roy growled out. “The first guy was. I’m just a copy.”

Zatanna flinched back, shooting Artemis a look. “He’s a golem?”

Artemis shook her head. “Not quite. The guy who made him? About as far from a holy man as you can get.”

Roy’s eye twitched. “Right here, lady,” he bit out. “Do I look like a walking piece of pottery to you?”

“Well excuse me!” Zatanna snapped, whirling to face him. “But if you’re not a golem and you’re not the real Roy Harper, anything else you might be is something extremely illegal and not something I want in my apartment!”

“You said they could help me,” Roy growled at Artemis. His eyes darted to the window.

Artemis rolled her eyes. “Well if you’d stop being a rude asshole for like, five seconds, they might actually want to!”

Kaldur decided to step in. The tension in the room was threatening to snap. “My apologies,” he began, standing and stepping over to Roy. “My friend is tired from a long week, and it is late. Let us begin again.” Kaldur extended his hand to the other man, a gesture of welcome and respect he’d picked up from Richard. “My name is Kaldur’ahm of Shayeris. Zatanna and Raquel are good friends of mine, and good people. You will come to no harm here.”

The redhead eyed Kaldur’s hand suspiciously, then cautiously uncrossed his arms to shake it. “You’re a freak too, huh?” he said. “Alright, sure.” He turned to Zatanna and Raquel, begrudgingly chastised. “Sorry. I’ve had a long night, too.” He deflated, releasing Kaldur’s hand to cross his arms again, though now he looked more self-conscious than agitated. “A long week, honestly.”

Zatanna softened. “Okay, yeah, me too,” she admitted. She gestured for Roy to sit on the couch. She moved to join Raquel on the loveseat, where the other woman handled her her still full wineglass. “Thanks, babe.” Zatanna knocked back the full glass, fixing Roy with a patient look when she finished. “Alright. Let’s try this again. Wha—” she caught herself, flinching when Raquel pinched her for being ‘rude, Zee’. “Sorry. Who, are you?”

Roy’s explanation of who he was took half an hour, the time during which Kaldur studied him, fascinated to meet an inhuman Surface dweller. .

Roy explained that he was a magical construct, created by a Warlock named Lex Luthor—by their dark looks at the name Kaldur guessed that the man was well known to Raquel and Zatanna, and ill liked—for purposes Roy himself didn’t know.

Zatanna and Raquel listened intently, interrupting occasionally with questions that Roy was reluctant to answer. When they asked how he’d managed to escape Luthor he shrugged, saying only that it wasn’t something he was sure he’d be able to do again if Luthor found him. Kaldur noticed that his eyes seemed to glow brighter when he was uncomfortable or repressing a strong emotion.

Roy was very unwilling to go into the details how Luthor had managed to maintain control of him for the first few months Roy had been cognizant of his own existence. It was an instinct Kaldur could understand—he knew well that it was a dangerous thing to share such information with others. It was hard to trust, when the wrong person learning too much about you could result in your enslavement.

“Alright,” Zatanna finally said, sitting back. “Well, if nothing else you’ve convinced me to help you. No one deserves to be under the thumb of someone like Luthor.”

Roy’s shoulders dropped, tension leaving them. “Thanks,” he said, only a little begrudgingly.

Artemis put a hand on Roy’s shoulder from where she stood behind the couch. “Thanks, Zee. I honestly wasn’t sure who to go to.”

Kaldur interrupted, voicing a question that had been on his mind throughout Roy’s narrative of his escape. “My apologies, but why are you unable to go to the authorities? From Zatanna and Raquel’s reaction, it appears to me that it is this Lex Luthor who has committed a crime, not yourself.”

Roy laughed bitterly. “You really aren’t from around here, are you? Luthor committed a crime, yeah. But I am the crime.”

Raquel snapped her fingers, jostling Zatanna as she sat up straighter in the loveseat. “That’s it! You’re a simulacrum, aren’t you?”

Roy shrugged, uncomfortable. “Fair’s fair. Yeah, got it in one.”

Zatanna looked at Raquel, then back at Roy, confused. “But simulacrums aren’t sentient,” she said. “And, no offense, but you’re way too rude to be anything but. And you’re too...solid.”

Roy froze up, looking up to Artemis with a pleading look in his eyes. She squeeze his shoulder, reassuring. “You can trust them, Red,” she assured.

Roy looked back to Zatanna. “You weren’t...entirely wrong when you asked if I was a golem,” he said begrudgingly. “I’m...kinda both. Luthor made my body from clay, and he put words in my head. But he used necromancy to animate me, not holy magic.”

Zatanna paled. “So the real Roy Harper…”

Roy hung his head, shamed. “Dead, as far as I know.”

A moment of strained silence passed. “You do not appear to be made of clay,” Kaldur ventured.

Roy smiled at him, bitter. “Yeah, two perks to being a necromantic abomination. I got the first guy’s memories,” he said, knocking with his knuckles against the side of his head. “And I at least look human.”

Zatanna looked quizzical, her curious nature getting the better of her. “Can you be injured?”

And like that Roy was back to looking suspicious. “Kind of a personal question, don’t you think?”

Zatanna threw her hands up, placating. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just.” She breathed, trying to find the words.

Artemis found them for her. “Look, Red,” she said to Roy. “Zatanna can help you, but if she doesn’t know what will and won’t hurt you it's going to be hard for her to figure out how. We don’t really know how your body or your spirit work. If we’re going to hide you from Luthor we need to figure out how to hide at least one of them.”

“Excuse me if I don’t exactly have a lot of trust for sorcerers right now,” Roy grumbled, curling in on himself. “But...fair point.”

Kaldur sighed, standing from where he had taken his earlier seat. “My apologies,” he said to the group when their eyes turned to him. “But I think all of you are too tired to work through this problem reasonably,” he said, eyeing Roy in particular. The redhead was obviously exhausted, and it was keeping him from thinking clearly. “The quarters I share with an absent roommate are closed to the larger Conservatory populace and have been well warded in deference to my King’s wishes that I not be observed or spied upon during my stay here. I would like to extend the offer for the two of you,” he gestured to Artemis and Roy, “To rest there until Monday evening. By then Zatanna and Raquel should be recovered, and you can productively seek a solution to your troubles.”

Kaldur himself was suprised at his readiness to help this almost total stranger. But on a certain level it made sense to help this Roy Harper. He too had been in positions where he felt to be an outsider, unknowing of who to trust. The first few weeks in the Corps he had been cautious of his squadmates and instructor—he was the only member of the group with any noticeable aquatic traits, and he had heard horrible tales hazing and violence against other Shayerin recruits. It had only been Tula’s—and later, Garth’s—kindness that had allowed him to emerge from his metaphorical shell and feel his somewhat belonged amongst his peers.

That it would also give Kaldur a chance to finally interact with Surface dwellers outside of the Conservatory or magical community was merely an added bonus. He was not restricted to campus, of course. But he was the first to admit that his own reserved nature made meeting new people difficult. Especially outside of formalized structures like those he had spent his entire young adult life in. And, despite their brief acquaintance and rather incomplete introduction, Artemis and Roy already seemed fascinating.

Artemis looked at Kaldur, approving. “I was thinking that I should take Red here back to my place for some rest. But your campus is definitely safer from Luthor or his goons. We accept.”

Roy turned, glaring at her. “Like hell we do!”

She glared right back. “You’re not spending another night sitting at my kitchen table and waiting for Luthor to come for you, Roy,” she bit out. “I know you don’t actually sleep but you haven’t had any rest at all and it’s making you irrational. If Kaldur has a safe place for you to stay it’d be stupid not to take him up on it!”

Roy stood up, fully facing her. “And how do we know we can trust him?”

Artemis threw her hands in the air. “Because Zee and Raquel do, okay? Look, you took a chance when you chose to trust me. And I trust them.”

Kaldur stepped forward, laying his hand gently on Roy’s shoulder. The man whirled on him, eyes wide and glowing. Kaldur stood firm. “I will allow no harm to come to you,” he promised solemnly, holding Roy’s eyes steadily with his own. “You have my word.”

Roy inhaled shakily, fists gripped tightly as his side. “I don’t know you,” he said, blunt. “For all I know your word could be worthless.” He glanced over he shoulder, back at Artemis’s pleading expression. “But, okay. We accept.”

Kaldur smiled, soft. He squeezed Roy’s shoulder. “It will be two days before Raquel and Zatanna will be in a position to help you,” he assured. “In that time, I would be glad to get to know you.”

Two days passed, but on the promised Monday evening the group found that their options for keeping Roy safe from Luthor were far from optimal. Roy’s body was animated by Luthor’s magic, and erasing the Words inscribed on the roof of Roy’s mouth would risk dispelling that magic entirely.

Leaving the Words meant that Luthor would still have control over Roy if he found him again. Artemis, who Kaldur had learned was a Mundane by nature and a Hunter by trade, offered up the practical solution of creating earplugs Roy could use to block the sound of Luthor’s voice. It seemed like a decent solution, at least until Zatanna performed a closer examination of Roy’s body.

“You’re not like a normal human,” she said, diplomatically ignoring Roy’s whispered ‘yeah, no shit’. She was examining Roy’s arm where the simulacrum had allowed her to peel back a layer of his skin to examine his flesh. It was the same light brown material all the way through, no blood vessels or bones.

“You look like you have ears, but you don’t actually hear through them. Your hearing is from magic.” She sealed up his arm, pressing the seam closed and smoothing over the incision with water until his skin was as whole as it had been before he’d allowed her to partially dissect him. “Earplugs aren’t gonna cut it. Frankly, I’m surprised you need rest.”

Roy rubbed his skin, self conscious but more relaxed than he’d been mere days ago. He’d had time to get to know Kaldur, and had come to the conclusion the Atlantean would have little to gain from turning him in to Luthor or the Council.

While the famous Bruce Wayne’s apprentice was supposedly Kaldur’s roommate—it should be noted that in two days Roy saw not hide nor hair of Richard Grayson, a figure he distantly recalled from stolen memories—Kaldur himself seemed to have little but cautious respect for the Council’s power. He didn’t seem overly concerned with their rules or what they’d think of a simulacrum like Roy. Roy supposed that it was a result of the moderate distrust that existed between the Surface realms and Atlantis.

Either way, he’d spent two days in the Atlantean’s apartment and come to no harm. Zatanna and Raquel had so far declined to turn him in either. He was by no means certain of anything like loyalty from the three, but the sanctuary they had so far extended was enough to earn begrudging trust. “Don’t look at me,” he shrugged. “I didn’t exactly have much of a say in the process.”

Zatanna sat back, eyeing Roy appraisingly. “No. And since we can’t figure out a way to give you more of say without killing you, we need to find a way to hide you. The charm Artemis gave you will only hide your magical signature for a couple of weeks at a time, and the materials she used aren’t exactly easy to get ahold of.”

Raquel looked up from the text she and Kaldur had been poring through. “We just need to hide his signature, right? Wayne isn’t exactly fond of Luthor, so as long as Red here sticks to Gotham he should be easy enough to keep out of physical sight.”

Artemis, who knew very little about magic or magical constructs aside from ways to disrupt and destroy them, looked up from re-stringing her bow. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said slowly. “Luthor has a lot of influence, even in Gotham. If one of his goons spotted Roy it’d be as bad as Luthor tracking him down through his signature.”

Kaldur hmm’d, an idea coming to mind. “The night you arrived I had asked Zatanna to create a charm for me that would hide my appearance,” he admitted to Roy. “I have already gathered the necessary materials for one that would last several years. They’re hard to get on the Surface, but they are common enough in Atlantis.” Kaldur turned to Zatanna. “Could they be used for Roy, instead?”

Zatanna looked dubious. “I’ve never made anything with Atlantean materials before,” she said. “Are you even sure my enchantments would work?”

Kaldur reconsidered. “No,” he admitted. “I am not.” He was quiet, turning the problem over in his mind. Ah, of course. “But I might know who could tell us,” he continued, flushing with guilt. It had been... months since he had last contacted Garth and Tula. To contact them only now, when he required a favor, felt inexcusably rude.

Then again, he thought, self-deprecating, I have been inexcusably rude.

“How would you feel about a teleconference with an Atlantean sorcerer?”

Tula had been able to, again, come to Kaldur’s rescue. Only after taking a few minutes to chew him out through the two way mirror she had gifted him when he had left, of course.

With Tula’s help Zatanna was able to construct a charm from the kraken bone and seasilk that Kaldur had collected. It would hide Roy’s signature from anyone more than a few feet from him, and would alter his appearance to anyone besides Artemis, Raquel, Zatanna, and Kaldur himself.

After that Roy and Artemis were able to return to Artemis’s apartment, though Kaldur extended the invitation for them to stay with him whenever they liked. He shared a full suite of rooms at the Conservatory with Richard Grayson, but the younger man was often absent, flitting in and out only occasionally. After years living in Corps barracks and the Academy dorms it had been comforting to have roommates again.

The pair accepted, though often enough it was Roy alone who ended up staying the night. Artemis’s apartment was respectable but small, and the simulacrum admitted with some embarrassment that it felt claustrophobic to share the space when Artemis was asleep.

“It's like if I turn the page of a book too quickly I’ll wake her up,” he admitted to Kaldur one day, watching idly from the couch as Kaldur stepped through a kata in the Atlantean’s spacious living room. The smooth series of kicks, punches, and ducks that Richard had taught him helped Kaldur center himself. It was different than the training he was used to—Atlanteans rarely fought unarmed. But it was similar enough to swordplay in motion that it served the same mental function. “At least with you I don’t have to worry about sound travelling.”

Kaldur paused mid-strike, eyeing the man with amusement. “Are you referring to the soundproof walls or the ill conceived notion you people have that I sleep in a bathtub?”

Roy snorted, throwing a pillow at Kaldur’s face. The Atlantean knocked it from the air, stepping back into the flow of his exercise. “Sound proof walls, huh?” He leered. “And what do you mean, ‘you people?’”

Roy became a fixture in Kaldur’s life, even more so than any of the other friends Kaldur had made on the Surface. He spent more nights in Kaldur’s quarter’s than Kaldur’s actual roommate. Richard mentioned the man he saw frequently in the apartment only in passing, and really only to tease Kaldur.

“Morning, Kal,” Richard greeted one day through a mouthful of toast while making a rare appearance in their shared kitchen. Richard—or Dick, as he liked to be called for reasons beyond Kaldur’s imagination to Zatanna’s endless amusement—waited until Kaldur had begun sipping his morning tea to continue. “Hey, is that guy you have over all the time even human?”

Kaldur didn’t sputter into his tea, though it was a close thing. “Quite certain,” he lied, looking at Dick directly. “Why? His manners are terrible, but surely he hasn’t managed to offend you enough to warrant such insinuations.”

Dick shrugged, swallowing the last bite of his toast and washing it down with milk. The man avoided caffeine on the regular, calling it an ‘emergency measure’. “Not really. I just keep finding him chugging boiling coffee at three a.m. Kinda weird.”

Kaldur peered at Dick over his tea, easing a gently amused eyebrow. “You room with a literal sea monster,” he reminded Dick.

Dick shrugged. “Yeah, but that's like. Gotham weird.”

“And chugging gallons of hot caffeinated water in the late night is what kind of weird, exactly?”

Dick sat back, contemplating the ceiling and, Kaldur assumed, the state of his existence. “Point,” he admitted. It wasn't the end of his occasional questions about Roy, but it was the last one regarding Roy’s ‘what’ instead of his ‘who’.

It didn't keep the sex jokes at bay, for instance. The boy was, after all, still a teenager and was inordinately curious about Atlantean sexuality.

Their little group grew close over the semester, with Roy and Artemis occasionally (and then not-so-occasionally) enlisting Kaldur’s help in their hunts for dangerous magical creatures around Gotham. Artemis was contracted by the city to keep the streets safe from monsters and escaped constructs. Kaldur had been hesitant at first, considering he hardly counted as ‘human’ and Roy was technically an escaped construct himself. But the majority of the monsters they ended up hunting were non-sentient, and none of the constructs demonstrated intelligence like Roy’s. Sometimes Zatanna and Raquel would accompany them, delighting in the chance to put their skills to practical use after weeks of grueling theory and research.

Roy and Kaldur grew closer especially, bonding over their shared status as outsiders to Surface affairs and their preferences for privacy. They each had their own reasons for preferring to remain anonymous from most people, so when the girls would ‘go out’ Kaldur and Roy usually ended up on Kaldur’s large couch, taking advantage of the entertainment center the Conservatory had provided for Kaldur’s ‘cultural’ education. They watched bad movies, catching Kaldur up on Surface culture and Roy up on what he had missed since his original had been kidnapped three years ago.

Roy was the first person Kaldur had met on the surface who never mistook his reserved manner for being shy. He had a way of drawing out Kaldur’s more judgemental observations about the Surface. He delighted in them, calling Kaldur ‘sassy’ and deliberately provoking sarcasm from the Atlantean as often as possible.

Kaldur, for his part, understood Roy’s gruff manner better than anyone in their close circle. The redhead reminded him at times of some of the older, professional warriors in the Corps. He didn’t expect Roy to be overtly demonstrative of affection and respected the simulacrum’s long silences, not trying to force conversation or attempting to use humor to shock him out of them. It led to Roy gradually opening up to him, sharing memories of his ‘life’ before and his anxieties, both things he normally kept closely guarded.

Affairs continued in this manner, with Kaldur growing closer to his newfound family and learning more of the Surface than he’d ever really imagined.

And then a patrol in Gotham’s harbor went terribly right, and all hell broke loose.

The night had begun fairly normally. Zatanna had declined to join them on their patrol. She had a friend-date with Richard that night. The two had been close since childhood, and Richard had complained recently that he never seemed to see her anymore, despite them going to the same school.

So it was just the four of them - Artemis, Roy, Raquel, and Kaldur. Artemis hadn’t been issued any specific mission from the Gotham police that night, so instead they decided to patrol along the docks. Kaldur knew from experience that feral, sea dwelling creatures had a bad habit of seeking out human prey in high-magical signature cities like Gotham, and there had been whispers of recent disappearances in the area.

What they found was much more troubling than a rogue siren or grindylow, however.

“Well that’s not suspicious,” Roy said, pointing to an armored vehicle parked outside an abandoned warehouse.

Artemis shrugged. “It’s Gotham,” she dismissed. “But we can check it out. If it's not the kind of thing we’re supposed to handle, we can call the PD.”

It turned out to be something no one was equipped to handle, except maybe the Council. From their view atop an adjacent building, the group could see inside the warehouse. It was mostly empty, save for a strange pod, which was being wheeled out the doors and towards the armored van by armed guards.

Roy grasped Kaldur’s arm, blunt nails biting the Atlantean’s thick skin. “I recognize those fuckers,” he whispered. “Those are Luthor’s goons.”

Artemis nocked an arrow, aiming for the feet of the guard wheeling the pod towards the van. “That thing looks human sized,” she said quietly. “Red, you get the guys on the door. Rocket,” she addressed Raquel, using the nickname the woman had earned after one of her spells had sent a particularly nasty wendigo crashing through three solid concrete walls. “Shield the windows, keep them from firing on us. Kal, get ready to rush. We need to free whoever’s in that pod.”

The plan worked well. Artemis’s arrow expelled a short burst of gas that knocked out the first guard and obscured the vision of the rest. Kaldur—immune to most toxins—was able to vault to the ground and get to the pod. Inside was a boy of about sixteen years, seemingly asleep.

The trouble came when Kaldur opened the pod, intending to carry the boy to safety.

His eyes snapped open the moment the pod did. He leaped, roaring, and began attacking the guards.

Roy leapt down from the building, disarming the guards as they tried to shoot at the boy. While a good idea in theory, it was then that things began to go horrible wrong.

Kaldur watched in horror as the boy put his fist through one of their armored torsos, screaming in rage before tossing the body aside.

“Holy shit,” Roy yelled, running towards the boy. “Calm down! Hey, cal—”

The boy grabbed Roy by the shoulder, twisting until there was a sickening crack, then tossing the simulacrum through the wall of the warehouse. Roy went straight through, landing in a heap on the ground outside. Raquel leapt to the ground, rushing to his side.

Kaldur, briefly distracted by his concern for Roy, almost didn’t notice when the boy turned on him.

The first missed blow shattered the support structure Kaldur had been standing next to, raining debris on their heads as Kaldur rolled out of the way.

“Kaldur!” Artemis shouted, “Get out of there!”

Kaldur dodged past the boy, sprinting out the door as the boy slammed into the concrete where Kaldur had been mere moments ago, leaving a sizeable dent.

As Kaldur cleared the door an arrow sailed by him. Seconds later the building collapsed, glass and debris blowing outwards as the magical charges inside of them detonated in the dilapidated structure.

Kaldur had just managed to duck into Raquel’s force shield, a bubble that shielded her and her surroundings from sight and sound. It also used light to refract the world around them, essentially rendering anything inside the bubble invisible.

Raquel, it should be stated again, was a very, very talented kinetimancer.

Artemis joined them a moment later, abandoning her position on the roof to check on Roy. “What the fuck was that thing?” She demanded, handing him one of the tubes she kept tucked into her quiver—a vial of magic infused clay.

“Looked like the same thing as me,” Roy grunted, accepting the tube. “That should be enough to slow him down, but probably not kill him. Hopefully his head wasn’t crushed.” Roy turned to Raquel, who was maintaining the force field. “You got that charm Zee made? The one for subduing sentients?”

“In my pocket,” Raquel murmured. “Now hush, I’m keeping this thing up for a bit in case any more of Luthor’s goons show up and it takes a lot of focu—”

She was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a large iron girder, which flew overhead as the ruins of the warehouse shifted violently.

“Holy shit,” Artemis whispered, eyes wide as they watched the boy emerge from the wreckage of the warehouse. Her fingernails bit into Kaldur's forearm, her terror leaving dents in his thick skin. “We just dropped a building on him and there isn't even a scratch.”

Kaldur darted a glance at Roy. The simulacrum shrugged back at him, smearing wet clay into the missing chunk of his shoulder where the boy had thrown him. “Must be a newer model,” Roy replied. The wet clay appeared to boil in his wound, bubbling and changing color until it melded in with his skin. A few seconds, and it looked like the shoulder had never been injured at all. Roy continued. “I repair easy but I still break.”

Kaldur watched as the boy shook off the last of the dust, eyes casting out to find them. As long as they stayed in the radius of Raquel’s spell he shouldn't be able to hear or see them. “You are certain he is of your same maker?”

Roy snorted. “Unless someone else is experimenting with necromancy and alchemy to create indestructible, human looking simulacrums? Yeah, I’m sure.”

Kaldur sheathed his swords, gently brushing Artemis’s hand from his arm. He stepped around her to Raquel, taking Zatanna’s rosary from her pocket while she continued to focus on maintaining their cover, eyes alight with the violet of her magic.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Artemis hissed, still eyeing the boy warily. He had begun to leap around the rubble, tossing chunks of buildings out of his way as he searched for their hiding place.

Kaldur looked at Roy, then back at Artemis. “When you first met Roy you said he was angry and terrified—”

“—Artemis you shit—” Roy interrupted, trying and failing to clap his partner on the side of the head.

Kaldur held up a hand, firmly demanding that he be allowed to finish. “You said he needed your help,” Kaldur continued to Artemis, reaching out and squeezing her hand reassuringly. “If this boy is of the same maker, perhaps he too is in need of help.”

Both archers looked at him like he was wearing a squid on his head. “Roy was at least verbal,” Artemis said slowly, as if to a child. “He never outright attacked anyone. That thing is feral.”

“He'll kill you,” Roy said bluntly. “We can’t get close enough to get Zee’s draining charm on him without risking him killing one of us. I’m tough, but even I'll die if he smashes my head in.”

Kaldur shook his head. “I won't,” he said simply, then ran out of the circle before either of them could attempt to stop them. He was certain that if it wasn't for Raquel’s ward he would hear them screaming at him to get back to the circle. As it was all he heard was the roar of the boy as he spotted Kaldur sprinting toward him.

The boy leaped, launching himself high in the air before smashing into the ground immediately in front of Kaldur. Kaldur dodged to the left, barely avoiding being crushed.

“Peace, friend,” Kaldur shouted, twisting to avoid another blow as the the snarling boy began to chase him around the parking lot. “I mean you no harm.”

Either the boy couldn't hear him, didn't understand him, or simply didn't care. His eyes were crazed, alight with the same blue glow of the enchantment that animated Roy.

Kaldur continued to duck and roll, dodging blows that shattered the asphalt. He thanked the gods that he’d allowed Dick to spend the first three months of his tenure on land running him through the apprentice’s ridiculous acrobatics regimen.

They continued in this manner for what felt like hours—in addition to being stronger than Roy, this simulacrum was faster, and seemingly inexhaustible. Finally, Kaldur felt he had learned enough of the boy’s movements to go in for his next move. He drew Zatanna’s rosary from his pocket, ducking quickly under the boy’s arm to slip the beads over his head.

He miscalculated, however. A fact that came home to him with a sickening, wet crunch as the boy’s fist punched through his ribs and out his back, narrowly missing his spine.

Kaldur crumpled immediately, white hot agony blinding him. The boy fell beside him on his hands and knees, panting harshly as Zatanna’s charm sucked the energy out of him.

Shocked blue eyes stared down into Kaldur’s, awareness dawning as the frantic sparks of magic that danced around tan skin dissipated. “Who are you,” the boy demanded. His voice sounded like someone had gone at his throat with shards of glass, shredding it until there was nothing but scar tissue. It was like he’d never spoken before.

For all Kaldur knew, he never had.

Kaldur grit his teeth, willing his gills to stop flapping uselessly in the open air, trying to bypass the wreck of his shredded lung. He managed to shift his hand, reaching across the ground to weakly grasp the boy’s hand in his own. It was sticky with Kaldur’s own gore and viscera. The boy didn’t flinch.

“A friend,” Kaldur choked out, before darkness took him.

Half a day later Kaldur woke up in Artemis’s apartment, fully healed from his injuries. Artemis, ashen faced and sick from relief, had been the only one there. She explained that Raquel and Roy had taken the boy to Zatanna’s father’s house out in the city limits once they'd ascertained that Kaldur was in no real danger. The pain had been enough to knock him out, but by the time Roy had rushed over to him when he fell his wound had already sealed over.

She also explained that immortality is the kind of thing ‘you tell your fucking friends about before you charge into a death match, you self sacrificial fuck’. She explained this rather sternly, while furiously hitting him repeatedly with a throw pillow.

When Roy and Raquel returned sans simulacrum, Raquel hugged Kaldur and smacked him upside the head. Which was a fair reaction, in Kaldur’s estimation.

Roy, however, avoided Kaldur’s gaze and flat out refused to speak to him. Which was, frankly, a lot more upsetting than having a lung punched out.

But they had bigger problems to deal with, as Raquel would go on to explain. Like the fact that the simulacrum they had found was a copy of Clark Kent, a sitting Warlock on the Council of Magic. And that Bruce Wayne knew about him, and about Roy, and was not happy about being kept in the dark.

A/N: Shoutout as usual to the amazing @shadesninde for being a boss ass beta. Trust me when I say this thing would have been a lot less coherent without her help. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! If you have any questions about the magical system or other random ass details of this AU, feel free to drop into my inbox!

#kaldur #artemis crock #roy harper #zatanna zatara #young justice #yj #koy #raquel ervin

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justanothercinemaniac · 8 years ago

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Epic Movie (Re)Watch #140 - Singin’ in the Rain

Spoilers below

Have I seen it before: Yes

Did I like it then: Yes.

Do I remember it: Yes.

Did I see it in theaters: No.

Format: Blu-ray

This post is dedicated to @hyla-brook, as I can no longer watch this movie without thinking of my friend.

1) This film is not only one of the best movie musicals of all time, but one of the best movies of all time period. More on that coming up.

2) The opening credits include the line, “Suggested by the song...” In fact, the entire film was written AFTER the songs with only two exceptions (“Moses” and “Make ‘Em Laugh”), with all the other songs already being released and known to the world at the time. This effectively makes Singin’ in the Rain one of the earliest karaoke musicals (alá Rock of Ages), but today the songs are known largely if not exclusively because of the long lasting popularity of this film.

3) The backstory given by Don (Gene Kelly) is a wonderful opening to the film for almost countless reasons.

youtube

For one, we get a strong establishment of the friendship and loyalty which exists between Don and Cosmo (Donald O’Connor) as relationship as important to the film as Don’s love with Kathy. We also get a clear establishment of the film’s sense of humor, giving us a nice juxtaposition of expectations vs reality (“Dignity, always dignity.”) and incredible slapstick moments. It is also one of the most accurate portrayals of how someone finds success in Hollywood: through an endless stream of shit jobs in the hopes that you’ll be noticed. Kelly’s and O’Connor’s comedic brilliance are on full display, and we also get our fist inkling of the tumultuous relationships between Don and Lina.

Don [after he gets a lead in a movie, to Lina who was a jerk before]: “Are you doing anything tonight, Ms. Lamont? [She shakes her head no.] That’s funny...I’m busy.”

4) In case you ever think Hollywood making normal people feel self conscious about themselves is a modern invention:

Female Movie Patron [while Lina is onscreen]: “She’s so refined. I think I’ll kill myself.”

(GIF originally posted by @casey-jones)

5) Lina Lamont.

Lina’s character is established immediately from the second she opens her mouth: drunk on power, more than a bit of a moron, and a selfish jerk. She’s hysterical and Jean Hagen totally loses herself in the character. No, that’s not Hagen’s normal speaking voice, but you thought it didn’t you? That’s how incredible she is in the role, and it is easy to forget how much brilliance she shows off when compared to the trio of Kelly, O’Connor, and Debbie Reynolds. This film wouldn’t be nearly the classic it is without Jean Hagen as Lina Lamont.

6) In case there was any question: I am Cosmo.

Studio Rep [about Lina]: “The studio has to keep their stars from looking ridiculous at any cost.”

Don: “No one’s got that much money.”

7) There are going to be so many Cosmo quotes in this recap, I’m just warning you. Because, you know, I’m Cosmo basically.

Don [being swarmed by fans]: “Hey Cos, do something! Call me a cab!”

Cosmo: “Okay, you’re a cab!”

8) Debbie Reynolds as Kathy Seldon.

What on earth can I say about one of the greatest actresses of all time in only her fourth credited screen real knocking it out of the park? I honestly don’t know but I’ll try to figure it out as I type. Reynolds is...perfection. In a trio of incredible performances I think she may give the strongest. Her chemistry with Kelly is great, subtle, trusting, and she does just such a wonderful job of making Kathy an amazing character. She’s not some manic pixie dream girl. She has her own desires, her own dreams, her own sacrifices she’s willing to make. Reynolds is able to portray Kathy as honestly good while still remaining interesting, honestly optimistic without being too naive or annoying, and honesty is just the word to apply to Reynolds’ whole work in the film. I love it.

9) One of the things I LOVE about this film is that Don and Kathy are not a “love at first sight” type of relationship. Don’s hitting on her is obviously because he’s a cad, she shuts him down, and then they’re able to have this unique conflict with each other where they both sort of act like jerks. Yet later they develop an honest connection with and affection for each other in such little time, it speaks greatly to the chemistry of the performers. One of my favorite love stories from this era of cinema.

10) The advent of the talkies are captured pretty accurately in this film. Everyone is skeptical about it, thinks it’ll be a fad, but the few likes Cosmo and studio head RF Simpson see how it could (and probably will be) the future.

11) I don’t think there is a better showcase for Donald O’Connor’s skills as a physical comedian than in “Make ‘Em Laugh”.

According to IMDb:

Donald O'Connor recalled, "I was smoking four packs of cigarettes a day then, and getting up those walls was murder. They had to bank one wall so I could make it up and then through another wall. We filmed that whole sequence in one day. We did it on a concrete floor. My body just had to absorb this tremendous shock. Things were building to such a crescendo that I thought I'd have to commit suicide for the ending. I came back on the set three days later. All the grips applauded. [Gene Kelly] applauded, told me what a great number it was. Then Gene said, "Do you think you could do that number again?" I said, "Sure, any time". He said, "Well, we're going to have to do it again tomorrow". No one had checked the aperture of the camera and they fogged out all the film. So the next day I did it again! By the end my feet and ankles were a mass of bruises."

The entire number is just packed full of classic Charlie Chaplin or Buster Keaton style gags all done to a fast pace number and it gets to the reason this old school movie musical has lasted the test of time where others have failed:

Most old school movie musicals have songs which don’t serve the film AT ALL they could be totally skipped and nothing would change. In some respects this film is the same. HOWEVER: the numbers are just so wildly and fantastically fun and entertaining that you are never bored by watching them. You are just so focused on what is going on and enjoying it so damn much you wouldn’t dream of skipping it (for the most part). THAT is why this film is such a classic. THAT is why it stands the test of time.

12)

RF [after pitching a talkie to Don]: “Lockwood and Lamont! They talk!”

Lina: “Of course we talk! Don’t everybody?”

Man RF, you did NOT think that through.

13) For me, “Beautiful Girls” is always the number I want to skip. It just is not nearly as entertaining as some of the other ones. It does nothing for me.

(GIF source unknown [if this is your GIF please let me know].)

14) Be still my beating heart.

Don: “Kathy I’m trying to say something to you but I’m such a ham. I guess I’m unable to without the proper setting.”

My heart doesn’t get mushy romantic for much, but "You Were Meant For Me”...It is just so beautifully staged, the lighting and setting is incredible, and Kelly is able to portray such honest emotion in the song that...I LOVE IT!

15) “Moses” is another example of a number which really doesn’t serve the plot in anyway but is just so damn entertaining I don’t really care! Donald O’Connor is great again, and we get some nice bromantic fun!

16) We get like a solid ten minutes of this film’s excellent comedy in two back to back scenes: when the filmmakers are trying to deal with the sound equipment, and when they see just how poorly it worked in the final film. It’s accurate really to today too: audiences will forgive crappy visuals but if your sound is shit then your film is shit. I know this because I’ve directed a number of films with shit sound (most of them back in high school).

17) Don’s conflict is perfectly summed up in one line:

Don: “The picture’s a museum piece. I’m a museum piece.”

The film’s mostly a musical comedy so it’s easy to forget about Don’s conflict, but he’s an actor in a changing industry and his first encounter with Kathy had him questioning his skills. Everything he does for the movies in this film is driven by that issue.

18) “Good Morning”.

Another song which is totally superfluous and serves the plot in no real way, I totally love it. It shows the trio at their best together in a wildly fun and entertaining number. But it was a pain to shoot!

After they finished the "Good Morning" number, Debbie Reynolds had to be carried to her dressing room because she had burst some blood vessels in her feet. Despite her hard work on the "Good Morning" number, Gene Kelly decided that someone should dub her tap sounds, so he went into a dubbing room to dub the sound of her feet as well as his own.

During a TV interview Debbie Reynolds shared while filming "Good Morning" one of her feet was bleeding, requiring flesh-colored bandages beneath her hose. As the trio collapsed on the overturned sofa, she turned her head to Donald O'Connor and said, "Thank God that's over." Watch closely and you can see her say it during the dubbed jolly laughter.

Their effort yielded one of the best numbers in the film!

19) The iconic titular song/number: “Singin’ in the Rain”.

Pretty much everything you need to know about Kelly’s devotion and hardwork in the film can be summed up by this fact:

The "Singing in the Rain" number took all day to set up--and Gene Kelly was very ill (some say with a fever over 101). When it was all set up, Kelly insisted on doing a take--even though the blocking was only rudimentary (starting and ending positions only), and the director was ready to send him home. He ad-libbed most of it and it only took one take, which is what you see on film.

Kelly’s sheer joy and the memorable/simple imagery is what makes the number so iconic. It is truly relatable, and its existence makes walking in the rain just a bit less melancholy.

20) Hey, remember how I’m Cosmo?

RF: “Cosmo, remind me to give you a raise!”

Cosmo: “Oh RF!”

RF: “Yes?”

Cosmo: “Give me a raise.”

21) Okay, “Broadway Melody”...

“Broadway Melody” is THE most superfluous number in the film and honestly the one which could probably be cut. It is very entertaining - and much more engrossing than its equivalent in Kelly’s An American in Paris in my opinion - but it’s just so damn long! It works as it’s own short film. However the visuals are incredibly strong and Kelly is in top form, so it obviously doesn’t ruin the film. But honestly it is the song you are most easy to skip and keep watching.

22) Aww, these two...

Don [to Kathy]: “From now on there’s only one fan I’m worried about.”

23) So far Lina has been a funny antagonistic dunce in the film, but damn if at the end she doesn’t turn into a manipulative evil jerk. I LOVE IT! She shows off she’s smarter than she’s shown [at least a little], boosts her own public image, almost sabotages Kathy’s career, and tries to extort RF into giving her more power. It is the fact she flies so close to the sun which causes her downfall, but damn if she ain’t just EVIL!!!!!

24) According to IMDb:

In the "Would You" number, Kathy Selden (Debbie Reynolds) is dubbing the voice of Lina Lamont (Jean Hagen) because Lina's voice is shrill and screechy. However, it's not Reynolds who is really speaking, it's Jean Hagen herself, who actually had a beautiful deep, rich voice. So you have Jean Hagen dubbing Debbie Reynolds dubbing Jean Hagen. And when Debbie is supposedly dubbing Jean's singing of "Would You", the voice you hear singing actually belongs to Betty Noyes, who had a much richer singing voice than Debbie.

25) These three are just so happy to embarrass Lina.

26) Kathy’s teary eyed look at Don when she realizes he WASN’T being a total jerk by having her sing for Lina and in fact letting the whole world know who she is just...be still my heart.

I miss Debbie Reynolds.

Singin’ in the Rain is a classic of cinema. Even though it falls into the trope of songs which don’t advance the plot, the songs are just SO fun to watch! This film is pure entertainment, with great acting on all parts (especially from the trio of Kelly, O’Connor, and Reynolds) and just honest character writing. It’s SO good! Go watch it if you haven’t!

#Singin' in the Rain #Debbie Reynolds #Gene Kelly #Donald O'Connor #Singin in the Rain #Jean Hagen #Epic Movie (Re)Watch #Movie #Film #GIF

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