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alottiegoingon · 3 months

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peanuts

lottie matthews x gn!reader

summary: the one where you bring pb&j sandwiches for lottie everyday since you were 9.

warnings: so much fluffiness i might throw up, short silly fic, lottie and reader are childhood friends and secretly in love, no crash, lottie has a bad relationship with her parents, cute little unexpected ending i guess?, english mistakes, not proofread

you and lottie were friends since you were nine years old.

you remember being inside the car with your parents when you moved to new jersey. the roads were bumpy before you could make it to the city of wiskayok. still, you insisted on carrying a book with you during the entire trip, knowing that you would feel nauseous in no time. your parents warned you but, as the quiet and moody kid that didn't want to move, you ignored their advice.

trying to focus on anything else besides your upset stomach, you place the book titled "matilda" by roald dahl, in perfect condition, by your side and decide to enjoy the view outside as the car moves along from the backseat. it wasn't a lifesaver but it was better than feeling your head heavy as you read the tiny words in the paper.

the houses were all the same. boring, lifeless and with a few flowers or bushes outside just to bring some color. what a lame city, you thought. no colorful houses, fun playgrounds or a nice park in sight. but that changed at the exact same moment as you saw lottie's house. a perfect planned garden in the front and impeccably painted walls capable of telling anyone that the house was pretty, yes, but the people living inside of it were superior. liking or not, the house was pretty but not as far pretty as her.

lottie was upstairs in the window of her bedroom when you saw her, you couldn't decide if she was staring outside like she was waiting for something or just watching people go by as if she was trapped inside. either way, she waved at you and, hesitantly, you waved back.

the following years consisted in sleepovers, movie nights and little discussions in the book club you two invented. safe to say that you became best friends almost too immediately.

lottie was a loner when she was home with no one to watch her except for a old lady that worked for the matthew's as a housekeeper or a nanny. you never knew and she was scary. playing pranks on her was almost a daily occurrence and an invention of lottie. like dyeing her clothes pink or switching salt and sugar and watching the distorted face of pure horror and agony in lottie's parents faces during dinner, when they invited you over. you and lottie had to cover your mouth or look down to not laugh but couldn't ever not exchange glances across the table.

her parents knew, of course. "your parents must be waiting for you. it's late isn't it?" was lottie's moms way of telling you to leave. you would say goodbye to lottie and hold her hand extra tight, knowing that the second the door closed behind you, you would hear her parents scolding her. you could see a curious mix between fear and excitement in her eyes when you were about to leave and you thought that that would be the last time she would prank that poor lady, but no. she would always come up with something new. deep down you knew that she was just craving attention from her parents and she would be glad to accept some mean words from them if it meant that they would talk to her instead of disappearing in work.

every day after the pranks were the same. the next morning, you showed up at school with two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. one for you and the other one for lottie, of course. maybe it was your way of supporting her as you could. as a nine year old, peanut butter sandwiches were your favorite and you would always eat them if you were feeling sad. you never knew why she would eat it entirely and as fast as she could, kiss your cheek and run away, telling you she was late. it was lunch time and she was nine. what could she possibly be late for?

but the smile on her face exposing her teeth shaped like little fangs every single time she saw you with a simple extra sandwich on hands made just for her, became your new favorite thing in the world.

during your teenage years, nothing changed. almost nothing. lottie was still a loner at home but was kind of a popular girl at school. not like your other friend jackie, but still popular. you and lottie tried for the wiskayok high yellowjackets; a girl's soccer team. you both made it to the team and quickly made some new friendships but nothing as close as what you two had. you were popular as well, sure, but you didn't care about that. it took you a few weeks to realize that jackie was popular because of her personality. you, lottie and other girls were popular because you were on the team.

regardless, after every unsuccessful exam, every bad moment with lottie's parents, every failed practice day, you were right by her side holding a sandwich with silly drawings made out of peanut butter and jelly. despite being best friends, you were both changing. different hair, different ways of dressing, different ways to look at each other. the only thing that never truly changed was the smile on lottie's lips and it was exactly like how you remember from when you were nine.

there was that one day when lottie had an awful day at practice after a fight with her parents last night and she was sitting on the aluminun bench in the locker room. she had her head down and her dark curls styled in low pigtails.

"hi." you sit by her side. she looks up and you notice her red eyes. "hi." she whispers. lottie would never let people see her in vulnerable moments but near you, she wouldn't hide a thing.

"should i go to your house in the middle of the night and dye your parents clothes pink like when we were kids?" your voice was playful but you knew that if the answer was yes, you would happily do it.

you feel your heart beating faster as you hear lottie's breathy laugh and feel proud of yourself for making her happy now. then, in a few seconds, the weak smile faded and the locker room fell into silence.

"do you think i'm a freak?" her words make your heart shatter. lottie would tell you everything, except from that one big secret thing that she was forbidden to talk about by her parents. you never mentioned it after noticing how she would get uncomfortable. or after noticing how her parents would always change the conversation to something else if she was blabbing too much. or when you saw a small orange bottle with pills inside with a label that said "charlotte matthews".

you take a moment to think of something to say until you realize that there was no right thing. lottie just wanted support. she needed your support. "i think you are strong." you say. you knew that she didn't have a choice, she had to be strong. but yet, it was something you admired in her.

"lott, i don't know what is happening and i won't ever force you to tell me. but i know you for years now and i know what you are." she remains quiet but at least she's still looking at you.

"you are so smart. brilliant, actually. you are great at soccer, you have an amazing fashion sense" you joke "a heart of gold."

"and you are beatiful."

lottie says nothing but you can see a subtle spark of relief in her eyes. instead, she hops closer to you and rest her head on your shoulder. you do the same, gently laying your head on top of hers. you were staring at that same old boring blue locker in front of you when you feel lottie's hand grabbing yours. you feel nothing but euphoria when she intertwined your fingers together as your hands were placed between you two.

your smile was so wide that you were actually happy that lottie couldn't see you. and you couldn't see her face as well but something was telling you that she was also smiling while her thumb was Involuntarily caressing your hand. you weren't sure if that was something that best friends did, at least not in such an intimate way. but you were hoping that it meant something more.

you hear steps getting louder and realize that practice was over and the girls were coming to change clothes. unanimously, you two distance yourselves from each other just in time and, taking a quick glance at lottie, you see her face entirely red.

"are you okay, lottie? we were worried. jackie said that she can dismiss you tomorrow." shauna gets closer to you two, touching lottie's shoulder and squeezing it softly in reassurance.

"it's okay. i'm all good." she looks up and smiles at her friend.

you stand up and grab your backpack, pulling out a small paper bag with something unmistakable inside. lottie and shauna look at you and still feeling a bit shaky, you handle it to lottie with a shy smirk and lots of mumble.

"peanut butter sandwich. to make you feel better, you know the drill, right?" you laugh awkwardly and lottie's cheeks that were just going back to its original color, got pinkish again. the same old smile was also there.

"thank you. movie night tonight?" she asks full of hope.

"absolutely. can't wait to watch drew barrymore in scream." you nod excitedly. later that night you would find out that she would only appear in the screen for ten minutes and lottie would make fun of you for that.

after you left, shauna tapped lottie's shoulder to catch her attention. she looked at shauna but her hands were carefully holding the paper bag against her body as if she was taking care of something precious.

"i thought you were allergic to peanuts?" shauna furrows her brows.

"yeah. but it's their favorite."

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottie mathews x reader #lottie matthews

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joelsgreys · 1 year

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the road ahead l preview (j. miller series)

a/n📝 in honor of hitting 4k followers this weekend, I decided to post a little glimpse at what I have been brainstorming: a full length series for the to do the right thing universe. I have been toying around with this idea for a while now and to be honest, I am really terrified taking on such a big challenge and writing this story, but also kind of excited too? part of me feels like I’m going to be in waaaay over my head but oh well lmao.

the first chapter is still a draft, but this scene is complete. what do we think? should i do it? please let me know your thoughts!

“Frank?” You knelt in front of his wheelchair and placed a gentle hand on his knee. “What is it?”

“We need you to take Gracie with you,” Frank told you, softly. His blue eyes had gone red, brimming with tears that he was trying his absolute hardest to hold back. Behind him, Bill stood there with his hand on his partner’s shoulder and you could have sworn that he was fighting back tears too.

“What?” You and Joel hissed out in unison. While you couldn’t see him, you could imagine the look of shock on his face mirrored yours as well.

“We need you to take her with you,” he repeated.

You stared up at Frank, your eyes wide in pure and utter disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

“Whatever this illness is, it’s progressing fast, way too fast. Look at me. The last time you were here, I could still walk. That was what, just a few months ago?” Frank let out a small and humorless chuckle and shook his head. “I’m getting worse with every day that passes. I can’t do anything for myself, let alone for Gracie. I’m in the most excruciating and unbearable pain and the reality is that I don’t have all that much time left.” He paused, hesitating for a moment before saying, “If I’m going to die, then I’m going to die in peace, not in agony.”

Your heart sank deeply, realizing what he’d meant by that.

“What about Bill?”

Joel’s gruff voice came from behind you, strained and tight.

“He can’t raise her alone. And besides, he’s made his choice to go with me.” Frank put his hand over his beloved partner’s hand, which was still resting on his shoulder.

You glanced over your shoulder back at Joel, who just stood there, the color drained from his face.

“How could we put her through that?” You asked, your voice thick with emotion as you turned back to look at Frank. “Don’t you realize how dangerous it will be for her to go with us?”

“She’s right. We’re goin’ across the fuckin’ country to get Ellie where she needs to be,” Joel reminded them. “We don’t know what kinda shit is out there or what we’re goin’ to run into. So how the fuck do you two expect us to take along a fuckin’ child?”

“Ellie’s a child,” Bill pointed out to him.

“She’s fuckin’ fourteen, not three—”

Frank held up a hand to stop him.

Finally, a tear slid down the side of his face. “Look, this isn’t a choice that we want to make, Joel. But let’s face it. I’m sick and Bill is old. Gracie will wind up alone.” He swallowed harshly, his eyes meeting yours. “I know you just wanted her to be safe, and sure, maybe she was safer with us here than in the zone for a while, but I don’t think that we thought this all the way through. I don’t think we looked far enough into the future. At some point, Gracie was going to lose us both.”

You turned and looked into the living room where Gracie was showing Ellie her favorite teddy bear.

“What’s his name?” Ellie had asked her.

“Teddy.”

She snorted, ruffling her hair. “Real original, kid.”

Gracie giggled, playfully swatting her hand away.

“I know she loses either way.” Frank’s hoarse voice garnered your attention once again. “I know it’s an incredibly dangerous risk, taking her with you. But it’s either that or she winds up alone.”

“We took care of her for as long as we could,” Bill said, quietly. “Now it’s your turn.”

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller series #joel miller angst #pedro pascal characters #;tdtrt #;tra

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nightshiftshenanigans · 6 months

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Heya!!! Here’s an unedited excerpt from the next chapter of Burning the Candle at Both Ends! Life permitting, the final draft should be written and up by the end of the week! I hope y’all enjoy😁💗

——————————————

“Just take your time, Danny. I promise I’m not going anywhere this time.” Jason had hoped his words would have a soothing affect on Danny, seeing as how he didn’t feel entitled to the idea of comforting him in the form of physical contact quite yet, yet all it did was cause Danny’s tears to form faster in the corners of his eyes.

“But you will. You should. You can’t promise something like that when I know that’s the only way this is going to end. I don’t deserve anything more.” The first of Danny’s tears slipped free from his right eye, trailing down his cheek and hitting his leg where it still sat on Jason’s bed.

“I just- I thought I’d really lost you when I got back to the apartment and everything was gone and you weren’t answering your phone and I just- I j-just-” Danny’s tears quickly devolved into steady rivers of pure agony, his breath receding inward as he verged on the tipping point of full blown hyperventilation.

Not knowing what else to do, Jason closed the final chunk of distance between the two of them and pulled Danny into his arms, taking a seat on the bed right next to him. Danny hid his sobs in Jason’s neck, wetting the edge of his shirt in the process. Jason couldn’t give a single fuck less though, only caring about comforting Danny in that moment right there.

“I can’t lose you.”

#batpham #dpxdc #dead on main #haunting heroes #dpxdc discord server #dpxdc fics #dcxdp #fic recs #fic excerpt #burning the candle at both ends #oops all angst #I regret nothing #there is no fluff in sight oops #jason todd x danny fenton #danny fenton x jason todd

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elvisslut · 9 months

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“One last ride”

Warnings- death, crying, children involved.

This is a little rushed mb

“Baby?” You call out for your husband walking into the bedroom to see him on the bed all dressed up. “Where are you going?” You question with a smile.

Elvis knew his time was soon just not how soon..not that he wanted it to be, but he accepted it. “We’re goin’ to go out..one last ride on the bike hows that sound?” He looked to you with a small smile, one that hide the pain he was feeling physically and emotionally.

“Last? Are you selling one?” He chuckles and waves it off, Getting up and going to you. His arms capsulate you against his stomach and chest, nothing could stop you from being happy in this moment..

“Okay..” you softly speak earning a hum in response, he’s going to miss you. “Lets go”

———————

The ride had you ending you two up all the way in Knoxville. Hours away from home, he thought about turning around but you’re arms around him, cuddling your head into the spot right between his shoulder blades.

Eventually he did turn around heading back towards Memphis. Stopping about halfway and going to the river look out at the water flowing.

“I love you..for eternity even after death..” he said softly, you frown to yourself for a moment before smiling. “I love you too baby..” you quip, your obliviousness was adorable to him but also gut wrenching.

“Lets get back home..” he says patting your hand and revving up the back, heading back to Memphis knowing too much, an you knowing too little.

He seemed fine, laughing, cracking jokes, messing with you how he does but then you went to bed not knowing your life would be turned on its axis.

—————

Happy in your arms and you in his he held tight..as he passed against you in his sleep..you woke up that morning with a large smile seeing your husband in bed still. But he was cold. Why was he cold. He was pale and his heart was not thumping against your ear.

“Elvis..” you say tears flood your eyes. “Elvis..elvis elvis please baby.. please wake up..i need you please oh my god..” you rushed out of the room and ran downstairs nearly tripping. “Joe j-joe elvis isn’t breathing he-hes cold” without another word you and joe followed by some of the guys ran up to the bedroom.

Everything stopped. Its slowed down, like it was slow motion. The love of your life, your best friend, your everything was truly gone. You watch in pure agony as the guys rush into things and do things hoping to find something to help.

Your beautiful boy was too far gone. You hear footsteps rushing to the room to see your daughter and your son..staring at their father with horror printed on their faces, your son who was 15 looked to you and ran over wrapping his arms around you, your 5 year old daughter following and doing the same.

“Take your sister to your room dont come out till i tell you okay?” You say holding in sobs as you hug them back, Aaron nods and picks up jessie soothing her worries as he walks away and out to his room.

You follow the emts to the ambulance, crawling in and looking at him as they rush towards the hospital.

Why must god take him from his family. He was your everything and your kids everything. You held his cold stiffing hand rushing in with them to the hospital being pulled away from him as they hit doors you couldn’t walk through.

Finally that was enough you broke down completely, how were you supposed to tell your babies. He pampered them and looked them to no end..as joe came to you helping you up and crying with you he lead you to a private waiting room, where the rest of the guys were, immediately all of them coming to you and wrapping you in a big warm group hug.

He was truly gone..your husband died in your arms..and your children seen their dead father..

One last ride

He knew..he knew and he didn’t tell you.

Even after death..

You let out a sob holding onto one of the guys. Wishing you were the love struck teen that couldn’t tell elvis about her feelings because she didn’t want to lose his friendship.

#austin butler elvis #elvis music #elvis presley #elvis the king #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis photos #elvis smut #elvis songs #elvis the pelvis #elvis x reader

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throwaway-yandere · 2 years

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"O Capo! My Capo!" (Yandere Mafia!Cyno, Tignari, and Alhaitham/Reader)

A/n: This township is turning into a real clownship– I definitely do NOT dedicate this to my irl friends, ya jerks /j.

Unreliable Synopsis: The Innamorati Familia might have lost almost everything, but their Capo stands tall. Just how long will you survive under 3 pairs of scrutinizing eyes? (Mafia!au. Visions do not exist.)

CW: yandere, (some) religious themes, possible major character deaths, mentions of recreational drugs, guns, etc.

YOUR CHOICES MATTER. YOU CAN VOTE FOR WHAT HAPPENS NEXT.

Next Chapter

—---

[Year 192X]

"(Y/n)!!!"

At first, you were convinced you were living the Khaenri'ahn Dream. With your youthful yet crime-greased hands, you have fought hard to earn your keep as the Innamorati's current Capo– to earn yourself a family for yours to protect inside Teyvat's ruthless underworld. And family you did keep. Until candles waned like silenced hostages. Until a conspiracy pursued what little faith in humanity you had left.

Until you held your underboss' charred face and lifeless body. Until his sizzling arm burned your hand. Until flakes of Dimitri's skin powdered your fingers like charcoal pencil shavings.

The Innamorati Headquarters burned. And so too did most of your men.

"(Y/n)! Stand back– Think about your men! Would they want you to do this?! You won't save anyone there– not like this!!!"

Looking back, the Khaenri'ahn Dream lied. There was no joy in hustling but you did live an empty yet freeing life. Khaenri'ah preached about humanity and its opportune happiness, yet spoke none about how fleeting it could be once the curtains caught fire. Perhaps that very notion fooled you into believing that your idyllic lifestyle won't be snatched away easily.

The ghosts of those who perished in the manor's basement have sought their final repose on the embers that incinerated your endeavors.

Everything was terribly loud. Many people fled into the murky haze. The square was virtually deserted as people fled for their lives, but you refused to leave. This trait used to be a quality that helped you survive the syndicate, but those damn fascist conspirators turned it against you.

Tartaglia pulled you close.

"VAFFANCULO, TARTAGLIA– LET ME FUCKING GO!"

"NOT UNTIL YOU CALM THE FUCK DOWN!!!"

You stilled, and a single heavy tear left your eye.

This is more than a mite unfair. Everything you labored for, every drop of blood you shed, every vice you committed, what was it all for? Visconti Diluc was right. You're a liar and a murderer undeserving of joy. Maybe this was the retribution he ranted aimlessly about.

You took fast and drastic measures in your rise to the top, and your opponents rightfully did the same to pull you back down.

Tartaglia watched as you writhe in agony knowing that you couldn't escape from his restrictive embrace. He never thought he'd see you appear more pathetic than when Pulcinella first picked you off the streets. Nonetheless, he felt your pain. You both led groups under the same parent organization. You are family.

To him, this was worse than accompanying his widowed sibling to their spouse's funeral.

"… My men, they're…"

You fell into deep thought.

Lyudochka, Kazari, Teppei, Viktor…

You gritted your teeth.

Viktor…

That damn brat didn't even get his chance to shift jobs… That brat still hadn't left this hellhole…

Based on the Khaenri'ahn Dream, all citizens must have an equal opportunity to achieve success through determination and pure grit…

You bit your lip down, drawing blood. In truth, you can't discern whether or not the blood came from your lips or your throat.

"DAMN IT."

Your white-knuckled hand shakily punched your thigh, feeling morbidly powerless.

Viktor said he wouldn't allow himself to die as a lowly servant…

What happened to those dreams now…?

You were so close. You were so close to taking all those fascists down. So why now?!

Tartaglia frowned. He had never seen you act like this– your anger is usually impulsive, but sharp and silent. Your fury simmers until you slice the catalyst open. Never come a time you lashed out like a feral animal as you do now.

"GET IT TOGETHER!!!"

Tartaglia shot you a piercing stare as he slapped you, and you finally reigned yourself in.

This is too pitiful.

Fire surrounded everyone, but you remained frozen by your own dialed-up emotions.

Slowly, he trusted that he could let you go.

"... Ekaterina, send in our men. We'll try to extinguish this mess as much as we can."

"Of course Capo, right away."

You held back your sobs as your knees fell to the floor, where your right-hand man's corpse lay as if he did not struggle in his miserable death.

The last time you talked to him, you called him a worthless coward who couldn't make choices without you. Pain seared through your chest. No one wants that to be their last conversation with their closest confidant.

A bloodcurdling scream rang out across the square, but you scarcely moved from your seat. You're too numb to notice who was behind that familiar voice. It was just another body that couldn't be mourned.

Your eyes focused on Dimitri's corpse instead.

You were planning to apologize after you cleared your head this morning, but what use are words to those who have already left this world? He's gone.

Fallen, cold and dead.

This is by no means the first time you've seen your men die– you had some of the deceased's blood wet your Sunday clothes– but you hope this unforgettable foul scent of burned flesh will be the last time you'll breathe it in. You're already acclimated to the metallic stench of blood; you don't need to ingrain this into your mind as well.

You passed out.

It was only when you closed your mouth did you realize, it was you who cried your lungs out the whole time.

—-----

The church bells rang.

It was 10 AM, and the mass was inching to a close but the priest passionately ignored the echoes of the bell and the mafiasos' groans.

"Is it too early to booze?" Tartaglia whispered in your ear. His yawning proved that he was bored to tears. You did your best in stopping your eyes from rolling.

Unlike Tartaglia, your aura exudes dignity, something he needed the most. When you two sit together, you both appear akin to a comedy act. The usually bloodthirsty Tartaglia transforms into a guileless little brother and your all-forgiving eyes turn endearingly annoyed when paired together. The same scenario was applied this morning.

"Tartaglia, look around you. Does this look like the right time?" You vaguely gestured at the ongoing sermon, not meeting his gaze.

"Geez. Why do we even bother with this?"

"Because even though we are nothing but lowly sinners, we must honor our Tsaritsa's benevolence."

There are 6 Archons revered by the church, and they correspond to six different regions and cities inside the nation of Teyvat. You're an immigrant from outside the country– an agnostic nation– but you're smart enough to pay respects.

"Right, right. I guess even if I asked that ten more times you'd still reply with a generic answer."

You passive-aggressively whispered back. "Maybe if your questions were worth my time I'd elaborate on my answers as well."

"Capo–"

You and Tartaglia turned around. The Fatui mob, one of yours who just got there, nervously sat up straight.

"Capo (Y/n)."

Tartaglia sank back to the pews, no longer caring. The second capo's lack of attention eased the grunt's audience-based apprehension. Their sheer trust in your credibility made you smirk. While you seemed cold, everyone in Snezhnaya knew you weren't.

You recalled how back then these words sounded alien to you but these terms are salient in the scenes. Having recruited predominantly Snezhnayan workers, you had to get used to their way of living. You wanted to foster good interpersonal relationships with your men, and there's no better approach to reach their hearts than religion in the 1920s. And by the looks of it, they seem to trust your carefully crafted sterling reputation.

You always do your job as if you're running out of time, and they put your faith in you like a farmer would a fleeting summer. With some effort, everyone was convinced they'd fall apart without your guidance.

The grunt looked at you with respect.

"Boss Dimitri delivered one very confidential info."

"I see…" You steadied yourself. "Excuse me then, Tar–"

He snatched your sleeve. Tartaglia considered removing your iconic stovepipe hat, but you don't wear it to church. He opted for the second most annoying choice.

"Hey, you can't leave me here. Don't I have every right to be in the know? Gaaahh, cut me some slack. We've practically been siblings for more than half a decade now, (Y/n). Can't you tell your fratello anything?"

"Why are you interested?"

"Cause I'm curious if it's finally time that your familia will collaborate with other factions for once."

You shook your head and sat back down. He's right.

Three major criminal organizations control the small nation of Teyvat, namely the Fatui, Akademiya, and the Adepti. You and Tartaglia are Capos or Harbingers of the former, which had the most control of Snezhnaya.

Based on your history, you don't mingle with other organizations outside Snezhnaya a lot. You had dealings with Ningguang and the Qixing before, but never their parent organization overseas which resides in Liyue.

It just so happens that Tartaglia is bolder than you are. The kid has his headquarters stationed in another province, Liyue. That province isn't far from his hometown since Teyvat is a small country but he complains like a confederate soldier. Most of what Tartaglia talks your ear out is about missing home despite finding fuses of excitement in Liyue enticing anyways. You've heard many stories from him regarding how ruthless Adepti's Prime leader, Morax, is, but that's not your problem.

The Akademiya, however, keeps to themselves. You know close to nothing about them. Snezhnaya may be the heart of trades, but the Fatui cannot tap into Sumeru's supply of canned knowledge. And you quite frankly don't give a shit about what they do. They're not the best at masking their spies.

"Speak."

"Capo, the underboss wanted to inform you that he had already figured out who the mole is."

"Oh?" You and Tartaglia spoke simultaneously.

You'd been looking for a spy among your ranks for quite some time. This mysterious mole was sending information back to Focalor, the self-proclaimed Hydro Archon better known as "Il Duce" around these parts. The braggart with a God complex promised the public that she'll drive mafiosos out of Teyvat, and she's working everyone to the bone for it. Politicians either play yes men or get on your nerves. She's the latter.

Nevertheless, you did not expect Dimitri to deliver results that fast. Bitterly, you thought about how apologizing for him later would look less genuine now that he proved himself worthy. You didn't mean to call your underboss useless– you just couldn't control your temper.

May the Archons forgive your transgressions.

You hope he'd forgive you once you get back.

"... Carry on, Felix."

"Yes, of course. The fascist conspirator is Professor Tighnari, the informant."

You snapped your head back to meet the grunt's face, bewildered.

"... What?"

"FIRE!!! THE PLAZA IS ON FIRE!!!"

One of the church's orphans– Barbara– was screaming by the door, frantically stripped of breath and her chords sounded hoarse, unlike her singing. Her weak legs barely counted as a support for her body as she toppled on the marble tiles. The groceries she carried splashed down, and some fruits rolled in your direction. Your people helped her stand up while some picked up her things for her, but the poor thing shivered like a leaf.

Barbara had always been a sister to you. Having been separated from your family at a young age as well, you two link like two peas in a pod. She relied on you like a quiet strong big sister while you protected her and the other children from street conflicts.

You stood up and calmly patted her shoulder, squeezing lightly. You gave her a gentle smile.

"My dear Barbara– take deep breaths."

She yanked your chest.

"Capo!"

Barbara began to tear up.

"It's your mansion, Capo!!! YOUR MANSION IS ON FIRE!!!"

—-------

You jolted up drenched in cold sweat.

"You're awake…"

You don't know whose voice you were expecting, but that voice was intuitively not one of them. The barren room you woke up in wasn't yours, and it's certainly not Tartaglia's manor. Considering the unfortunate events that just took place, it's foolish to think you'd wake up inside the safety of your manor. Instinctively, you reached for your holster and found it empty.

The man stepped into the light. You have a hunch on who this was. He wore a black-purple stole, vest, and strap combination, an attire you'd often see on a Sunday, yet donned a shabby brown hat on top of his silky white locks.

The stranger stared at you blankly.

"You're a disciple." You claimed.

Aside from the three mafia organizations, the Church had the superior upper hand when it came to crowd control. Nothing moves Teyvat's heart like guides and philosophies. That being said, the Church isn't afraid to get its hands filthy. They are fully aware that conversation will not solve all problems, and there is an unsaid fact that their relationship with the Fatui is far from antagonistic.

And as Capo, you're one of their most devoted patrons. The organization you belong to is filled with devotees, and have often carried out whatever mission the church wishes. Honestly, you think that the Church's fondness for the Fatui should already be a telltale sign that the Archons are nothing more than a statue made of ice.

But you shouldn't think this way. It's peculiar– romantic, even– that what saved you from the fire was your near half-hearted devotion to attending Sunday masses. To be honest, you attend partly because you want to dress to the nines. You don't know how to feel about that.

Their Holiness saved you from the embers, you can atone for your sins by suffering. And that's what this stranger is here for.

"That's correct." He said. "I work for the Sumeru Church. I was instructed to look after you until they help you renovate your manor and the panetteria beside it. That is, of course, assuming you still pass the requirements of being Innamorati's Capo."

This person did not bother easing you into things, and instead bluntly reminded you that your house and men– your home is gone.

You breathed in shakily.

Dimitri is gone…

"...You have my gratitude."

On the bright side, at least your go-to place for lunch will be back after a while. That is if Signorina Xiangling survived and the church won't abandon you.

"Don't worry, we flame to please. I'm sure our architect Kaveh was stoked to receive such a large-scale commission."

…

"I'm sorry– were you joking at a time like this?"

"Was it not funny? Hah. I think it's hysterical. Oh, would you like for me to explain it?" He didn't ask in a patronizing tone, he spoke as if you didn't have the mental capacity to know what a joke is. Which was honestly more insulting.

You didn't laugh, and he didn't apologize.

You've heard about how church officials have a clear lack in the humor department before, but you didn't take into account that they may very well be this socially inept. Which is rich, coming from you. Your transgressions weigh more than a bad joke executed at a funeral.

With a mastered poker face, you pretended that his slights did not affect you.

He extended his arm out for a handshake.

"Cyno, the former Aaru Village priest. I now work as an inquisitor." Cyno coughed, cheeks turning slightly red. "I didn't change your clothes i-in case you find it uncomfortable."

Sounds like he finds it uncomfortable instead.

His behavior perfectly lines up with his claims. The way he dressed alone encapsulates the aura of a man who used to devote himself to holy sanctums. Some minor details made it clear he's no longer part of the main clergy– that being his choker and numerous ear piercings.

You took his hand. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm (Y/n), the Innamorati Familia's Cap–"

You cringed.

"I'm… I'm just (Y/n)."

"Humble, just (Y/n)." Cyno nodded solemnly.

"No, not humble. Defeated."

"I know."

…

"Feel free to cry. I won't pass judgment over people expressing normal human emotions."

You laughed humorlessly. "Sure you won't."

Cyno grabbed the plate on the table and passed it on. "Calzone?"

You scoffed.

Admittedly, the food looked appetizing and its rich fragrance made your stomach perceive its emptiness. You trust the church, but no. Your pride would kill you for chewing food down with abandon. The only person you could eat savagely with was Barbara, and Lord knows how the poor girl is holding up. Thankfully your stomach didn't make any noise despite the pain of hunger being a treacherous one.

"I guess not." He awkwardly put it back down.

You inspected your clothes. Your once proud Prussian blue polo shirt reeked of ashes and sundered threads. Still, in a bit of a daze, you squinted.

"... Where's my coat?"

Cyno's gaze sharpened.

"I disposed of it." He spat. "You should be more alert. Someone planted a recording device on your person."

Cyno spoke in a tone that implied he knew who this person was personally, and you're inclined to think the same. You bit your bottom lip at your own seemingly minuscule mistake, opening a minor wound.

"Cazzo."

It's possible that Tighnari was the one to plant it. You let him hold your coat for a moment when you changed into your Sunday attire. That audacity of that fucking bastard.

He must've set the bomb off when he heard Nicola.

"Testa di cazzo– quel fottuto figlio di puttana." You cursed lowly.

Professor Tighnari. That man will soon find his skin flayed and draped on the walls of your basement chambers once it's rebuilt.

You'll kill everyone that fox ever loved.

You'll find his family and wave their heads on a pike right in front of his chained weeping face. You'll claw the skin off their faces and rip their fingernails and limbs apart–

"(Y/n)?"

You can no longer comprehend your emotions. Inside, you are a cacophony of both forced indifference and uncontrollable spite– a contradictory pair yet one that matches how you felt towards the loss of your men and the professor's betrayal.

Slowly but surely, you saw red.

Not expecting that you would stand up, Cyno pushed you back to bed. He looked both worried yet unimpressed by your foul mouth.

"You're not supposed to leave yet."

You tried to gently pry him off, not wanting to offend the church's lackeys, but he was stronger than expected. Cyno planted you back down on the mattress. His left hand was beside your head and his face hovered above yours.

This irritated you.

You don't have much time left.

He continued. "Tomorrow, you work. Today, you rest up. Your people are with Capo Tartaglia and they're not going anywhere. If you need anything– food, water– anything at all, be sure to ring the bell. My ears are sharp. Remember, the Military Police are tailing you and the last of your men."

The Military Police? So it's Focalor's people, huh? That damn governor just won't let up, won't she? If you had nothing left to lose you would've painted her office wall with her brain matter, pronto. But you still have some reasons to continue living.

The last of your men…

Hah. Of course. You have to live for those that survived. After all, if you weren't an incompetent fucking boss you'd still have everyone in one piece.

You're so sick of this.

"May I ask who exactly reached out to help? I doubt the church would waste church funds on a low-ranked Fatui Capo such as myself."

The inquisitor averted his gaze, his brows furrowed. Cyno hid his face behind his hand, murmuring the response meekly. You don't have the best hearing—the sounds of gunshots were bound to dull your senses—and you imagined he gave a monosyllabic response.

"...e."

"My apologies, mind repeating that?"

Cyno stiffened.

"You don't need to know who. What matters is that you're safe now, and an official willingly went through signing paperwork for your manor."

"And based on your tone of voice, I assume that that official is you."

He turned his head indignantly.

"Believe what you want to believe."

Cyno's reply was a telltale sign that this conversation will go nowhere. You sighed.

"... I don't need food, but do you have cigars?"

He scrunched his nose.

"No wonder your breath smells awful nowadays." He muttered before pulling away.

Despite his insulting observation, he pulled out a box of Cuban cigars from his pocket. Quite hypocritical that he complained about bad breath when he had some too. He lit up your cigar.

"Thanks, but last time I checked this was our first time meeting." You have no particular opinion on Cohiba's cigars but this is the best you'll get at the moment. Beggars can't be choosers. "Thanks again."

Cyno ignored you both times and he was already by the door. "Please rest up. I've left some calzone, water, painkillers, and tissues for you on the table. Try not to leave the vicinity."

He exited the room.

You closed your eyes as your hand reached for your bleeding mouth. You're relatively unscathed from the incident, which means Cyno knows something about your "condition."

You chuckled.

Painkillers and tissues, huh? There's no better cure than that, and your time would run out before the world would find a better one.

—----

Cigars were not enough.

Inquisitor Cyno likely already knew that he can't keep you here for much longer, but he didn't do anything when you escaped. He did say "try not to leave" and not "do not leave", didn't he?

Cyno claimed his ears are sharp– so you guess he just didn't care at all.

As a result, you left your room and went for a walk around the neighborhood. That doesn't mean you can leave Sumeru City, but a stroll is always pleasant. The room Cyno offered was neither spacious nor cramped, but if you started digging holes in their ugly wallpaper, you doubt the church would take it lightly.

You staggered out of the chapel and entered the slums, reminding yourself that Dimitri is dead. You need to find someone worthy enough to become the next underboss. The church will not recognize you as the Capo without one, therefore they won't help rebuild the manor should you fail this task.

Hungry and out of breath, you leaned against the unscrubbed walls of an abandoned antique store, arms folded, taking in your surroundings. You were exhausted, arms sprawled against the wall.

The people behaved too jaded to be Natlan yet too reserved to be Snezhnaya– hence, you safely assumed that you were in the Avidya-Rainforest district. This place, despite lack of funds, was still under the church's watchful eye. A holy sanctum of sorts. This meant dealings are prohibited and no one would want to be caught with a glint in their eyes.

It's fascinating how much their cultures differ for a country as small as Teyvat. The same cannot be said for Khaenri'ah. Your compatriots have only known a capitalistic grind in search of an unattainable dream. A money-obsessed country does little to preserve its customs and culture. And you were the same empty machine till La Signora took you in.

You yawned while covering your mouth, appearing vulnerable.

But of course, you didn't charge into an unknown location unarmed. You knocked out one of the Inquisitor's soldiers and seized his pistol. "For security reasons", you'd argue. Once again, Cyno likely knew about that but didn't bother acting, again. You're too tired to judge his work approach, and you could barely keep your eyes open.

Till you caught a sliver of green pass you by.

"Oh! You smell funny. Are you the Capo, (Y/n) (L/n)?"

You lazily looked up.

"Umm, hello?"

You gazed down.

It's a kid. Hunger is starting to take its toll on you as you mistook her high pitch voice for an adult your size. The child, around age 5, had green hair and scraped knees.

You're certain that she wouldn't snitch about how you left your room unguarded.

"Need something?"

"Yeah, um, I just wanna say my condolences."

You ruffled her hair. "Thanks, bambini."

She beamed.

Sadly, the kid must've mistaken this as a go signal for her to continue talking. She balled her hand into a fist and nervously cheered for you.

"I-It'll be alright, Capo. You can always make new friends! I believe in you!"

"Hmm."

"I never thought I'd ever be able to make friends but I did last month! I also met my master that time and maybe I can share some of my good luck with you!"

"Hmm."

"Are… Are you listening?"

"J-Just a little fatigued." You stifled a yawn. "Why don't you play along with your new friends, little…"

"Oh, right! I'm Collei!"

"Little Collei." You coughed, and you skillfully wiped the blood away without her knowing. "Bambini, you shouldn't talk to people like me, it's dangerous. Why don't you run along and go back to your friends now?"

"Well, I can't yet because he told me not to because he's busy right now."

"Who told you that?"

Collei smiled widely.

"Professor Tighnari!"

You froze, slowly recalling your resolve.

It felt like the world froze for a brief moment as if the few people in the vicinity halted for you to catch up on what the little girl confessed.

"...Tighnari?"

"Hmm, hmm!"

"And you're close to him?" You muttered.

You'll kill everyone that fox ever loved.

Your fingers subconsciously slithered to your holster.

That's what you decided moments prior.

You glared down menacingly.

"Capo…?"

But a kid?

"... Is something wrong?"

You turned your apathetic gaze back at her. You're not even sure just how much this child meant to Tighnari. She might as well just be as insignificant as a pebble on a shore. But–

The gun you stole from the church guards is with you. It's light in your hands.

The light in your eyes dimmed.

"Hello?"

It has three bullets loaded.

There are only 2 other people outside the streets, both of which are teenage civilians. Taking her out would be as easy as–

"Hey, please cheer up!!!"

The child shook you, dragging you out of your trance. Little Collei appeared distressed because of your lack of reactions. You blinked a couple of times, making yourself mentally present, before pinching your forehead. Her lips are curled downward and her eyes match her cute frown, and you were grimly reminded of what you had tried to commit.

You cursed under your breath.

You're disappointed in yourself.

This is a child. A child of the church, no less. She likely had nothing to do with whatever it is Tighnari had planned.

"You're thinking of sad thoughts too, aren't you? Don't do that! You'll only feel bad–"

"Bambini."

"Yes?"

"How many friends do you have?"

"Oh. I have two!"

She cheerfully raised three fingers.

"I have two friends! Amber and Tighnari!!!"

Because of her clear enthusiasm, you refrained from correcting her hand. Instead, you patted her head with a heavy conscience.

But are you wrong for thinking this way?

An eye for an eye…

You knelt at her height.

Your strained smile reached her ignorant eyes. "That sounds wonderful. I have– I had two best friends too. Can I be your third friend?"

"Really?!"

"Of course. I think optimistic people like you are reeaaally cool!" You lied between your teeth.

And one kid's death won't satisfy a worthy tribute for your fallen men. One child is not enough.

You need to find more just like her.

"Hehe, thank you! But Amber's the coolest! I want to be like big sis Amber when I grow up!"

"Is that so? Well– I hope to hear more from you as you grow older. I'm sure you'll be the girl you always wanted to be, and I'd like to be your friend as you get there."

Collei awed.

"W-Wow, thank you! I've never gotten a compliment like that before too…"

The child never saw the sadness in your eyes, or maybe she mistook it as fondness. You continued patting her head as she melts in your touch. Fakely, you gave her a big smile.

"Then let's get to know each other." You grabbed her hands. "Why don't you show me around town, fratella?"

You can't kill this girl yet.

She nodded eagerly.

Not until you find out just how much this child means to Tighnari.

Besides, you didn't miss the flash of purple in the alleyways. Cyno was observing you from afar. You can't make haste.

You grabbed her hand.

You'll get your revenge, someday but not today, even if it arrives at your dying breath.

—----

Someone else is watching you. A second stalker.

It's not paranoia born out of the tragedy that occurred yesterday, but a fact.

As you were greeted by an angry Candace (Cyno's coworker) who gave you a firm yet fruitless sermon about leaving the parameters, you heard the bushes rattle by the gardens. You offhandedly mentioned it to her, and it placated her fury.

Candace agreed that she heard it as well, and she promises to take care of it as soon as you go back to confinement– "your room." Collei awkwardly bid you farewell and you promised you'll see her again in a few days. She probably thought that you were her new troublesome sibling. And speaking of troublesome…

Snatching the small glimpse of metal from the table, you pivoted your heels.

"You can't hide from me."

Masterfully, you hurled a butterknife and it landed just a few centimeters above the trespasser. He grunted almost inaudibly. Had you been any less precise that aim would've killed him, but the man had the guts to trust that you wouldn't be so foolish and kill him off without a proper interrogation. It's one of many reasons Tartaglia envies your dexterity and wit.

You glared. This man wore dark clothing yet his luminescent akasha terminal betrays any hope for a successful undercover mission. The stranger promptly calculated his response as you grabbed your remaining utensils. This time, you had a sharper blade in your arsenal.

"Speak."

"My name is Alhaitham. I'm an Akademiyan spy."

No shit. He's wearing an akasha terminal. What else could he be but a pain in the neck?

You laughed sardonically. "Oh my, a bold one, are we? Think you can take me down just because of my manor?"

"I'm not here to fight you– I'm here with a proposal, (Y/n)."

And he had the nerve not to address you as Capo.

The stranger didn't see you throw a fork in his direction until he heard the metal ring beside his ear. Some strands of his hair got caught between the points, yet he feigned an unphased disposition.

"Get out."

"Alhaitham" didn't listen. He knew you'd insist until you could drag his cold dead body into the garbage chute for Wednesday's pickup. So what did he do?

State his proposal anyways.

"I want to become Innamorati's next underboss."

Your grip on the knife loosened slightly. Alhaitham watched your serious face loosen up, but not in the reaction he hoped for. Instead, you laughed at him.

Him? Replacing Dimitri? Hilarious.

"Now that's comedy! What made you think I'll hire you? I don't know your face but I know your name."

You proudly grabbed a glass and poured yourself the wine Cyno bought that you previously insisted on not drinking.

"Ahh, this should be entertaining. Alhaitham– the Akademiya's slaved accountant. Maybe I would've taken you in if you didn't reveal that you're a spy. Would've enjoyed dragging you around till you're drained like hell. You know, if you already told me that you're here to spy on me you might as well spill who ordered you to do so."

"Khajeh." He replied immediately.

You drank half a glass. "Hah! Figured. Barely ran into any scholars but that old man is as nosy and obnoxious as they come."

"In addition, he gave me permission to try and apply as your next underboss."

"Keyword here is try."

"The Akademiya had been spying on you for a long time–"

"I know. I'm not dumb enough not to notice your men skulking around. They're practically built like an elementary school's skeletal model." You clicked your tongue.

"–But if you take me, I am at your full disposal. I will work simultaneously for the Akademiya and you, so I'd let you in on canned knowledge trades. I'm not as weak as the others. I've been a member of multiple training corps with exceptional gra–"

He stopped abruptly when you placed your glass down. It's empty.

Alhaitham met your gaze and silently noted your unamused expression.

You have never once tried getting into any supply of canned knowledge, but that doesn't mean you'd dive into this shady business after the opportunity presents itself pronto. You've seen how Dottore handles his wares, and you know how it functions similarly to heroin.

You're not letting your men go through the same addiction as you had before.

"Are you done?" You cut him off, clearly aware that he barely started with his fluffs. Realizing that all he had done was brag, he changed topics immediately.

"I know a lot of things about you, Capo." Alhaitham's lips quivered for a brief moment. "I'd dare say I found all the dirt I could find."

"Is that so…" You replied, rather uninterested. These buzzwords have always been around since the day you became Capo, not once had they piqued your interest.

"You killed La Signora to inherit her title. You announced that she died bravely against Khaenri'ahn soldiers, but it was you whom she dueled with– and now you have her authority and more."

You laughed, once again sounding wholly bored.

"Should've known Akademiyan freaks like you are into conspiracy theories." You replied in an attempt to seem like you care. You're not sure if it worked.

"You neither confirmed nor denied my statement."

Cause he's half-wrong. You're not a brute. If you want something done, then it must be swift. There's no way you could've won a match against your old Capo, everyone would agree with that.

It's much easier to kill her in her sleep and frame your fellow countryman's fault for everything.

"Do you need me to?"

There was no need for you to tell him that this information is useless. Many similar-sounding theories had spread during the first few months of acting as Innamorati's new Capo. Snezhnayans are very strict when it comes to blood relations, and they're not easily convinced when you told them that it was Rosalyne's final wish to instate you as their new leader.

It was partly thanks to Viktor that the familia grew to welcome you in. He had an apparent dislike for the old capo and when you promised he'd be off guard duties his mouth started rambling. Viktor's not one to shy away from leaking the information you puppeteered him to say. You've ensured many methodologies to spread a positive campaign about you, and people began naturally supporting your cause.

All done with minimum effort.

You smiled at him sweetly. Should Alhaitham attack your reputation, you have no doubt you have the capabilities in mending it quickly despite your situation. You're loved by the Church and most importantly the masses. Now that many of your men have passed, the public would view you as a staggering symbol of mourning. Poor (Y/n).

Alhaitham didn't react. Instead, his expression dimmed, more solemn this time.

"That's just the appetizer."

He continued.

"The truth is, you barely have 2 years left to live because of Eleazar, isn't that right, (N/n)? That's why you always act like you're running out of time."

Your eyes widened.

Now he's not half wrong. That's the whole truth.

You laughed again.

"Is that your best attempt at a death threat? Don't have specialized canned knowledge to teach you when to shut the fuck up?"

"I'd be happy to let you know that I'm not the only one who has conducted some… research, Capo." He digressed and walked closer. "Inquisitor Cyno, Professor Tighnari, and I know about it. It's quite a well-kept secret, really. You ought to be thankful."

Alhaitham pulled out a tissue from his pockets.

You squinted and paused.

Oh, no wonder. So that's how he came up with that conclusion.

"You've been coughing up blood way before you joined the mafia– and it's a miracle that no one noticed your weak constitution. None except the three of us, I mean." He continued. "I had someone from our forensics team inspect this, and I'm not surprised to hear that it's from you rather than your enemies."

"Then why."

"Why?"

"Why haven't you leaked this yet? Isn't this a good thing for you Akademiyans?"

Alhaitham smirked.

"I believe I should be the one to govern my actions– why else would I stalk these dilapidated rooftops?"

"Then how long have you known?"

"Trust me, the three of us knew longer than you'd imagine. I knew about your secret ever since you sold matchsticks for a living."

Your eyebrows furrowed.

"That was five years ago…"

"So? Doesn't change that you've been diagnosed for well over six years."

"I was barely anyone back then– I was just a beggar hustling on the streets– why make such an idiotic claim?" You rolled your eyes. "I've heard enough. Leave, while I still allow it."

Alhaitham's face softened.

"So you don't remember me…"

He handed you the tissue, and you reluctantly accepted it.

As your hands met, Alhaitham pulled you close to his chest. His face looked down on you, smug and condescending.

Alhaitham caressed your cheek, and then your lips. You flushed at the sudden contact and quickly tilted your dagger near his neck.

He whispered into your ear.

"What a delicate flower you are, tesoro. But I will not lie, you're far from youthful– you're wilting, and I loathe watching this all unfold from afar any longer."

The Akademiyan gently pushed your dagger away and kissed your wrist. Your eyes sharpened, hastily aiming for his neck but he swiftly changed trajectory. He knew this was just a reminder that he could die in your hands if you will it. Alhaitham is not blind. He saw the way you curved your hand at the last second to prevent a lethal blow.

He stood a few feet away, no longer at arm's length. Alhaitham pushed the curtains aside with one foot already out the window.

"I'll meet you again here, 6 AM sharp. Tell me whatever it is that you decide then." He said before confidently adding "I look forward to working with you soon, (N/n)."

In the same fashion he entered, he left the room quietly. Deciding that you don't care enough to watch him leave the premises, you locked the windows shut.

You sighed, exhausted, and pulled the curtains closed.

Life won't let you catch a break…

Now, what's your schedule for tomorrow?

—------

Note: this is an interactive fic! The underlined word will lead you to a google forms link to decide what happens in the next chapter! Have fun voting!!!

Deadline: October 20, 2022 October 16, 2020

Next Chapter

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orange-peony · 11 months

Text

Thanks for tagging me this week @artsyunderstudy, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @j-nipper-95 and @fatalfangirl. I loved all of your snippets!

I’m trying to finish my current wip for an anon fest, but I am at that stage where it all feels like a bunch of crap and my motivation is really low.

On a positive note, I started writing on my phone a snowbaz speed dating AU. I still don’t know if it’s going to be a drabble or longer, but here’s a tiny extract:

“This is the stupidest idea Dev's ever had,” I tell Niall.

He ignores me and focuses on readjusting the rainbow pin on his t-shirt and smiling nervously at the bloke who sits opposite him.

The bell goes ding, and I close my eyes. I hear the scraping sound of the chair in front of me, inhaling deeply as I try to mentally prepare for another five-minute-slot of pure agony as another imbecile tries and fails to seduce me.

“I’m an arsonist,” I declare, my well-rehearsed opening line to discourage the next loser.

“Nah, I reckon you're just an arse,” the stranger in front of me replies.

I finally open my eyes, and my vision is filled with a mass of bronze curls, freckles and moles. He’s sitting there with his legs spread wide, jutting his chin out and waiting for me to say something, a dare in his blue eyes. I try to ignore the fact that he's a fucking wet dream come true and raise my left eyebrow at him. He's not even wearing a pin to signal who he might be interested in.

He just called me an arse.

Tagging @bubble-gumhead, @avenueofesc, @pato-roldnart, @crazybutgood, @artsyunderstudy, @cutestkilla, @hushed-chorus, @thewholelemon, @martsonmars, @facewithoutheart, @letraspal, @littlewinnow, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @imagineacoolusername, @captain-aralias, @vukovich, @peachpety, @m0srael, @rockingrobin69, @tea-brigade and @larkral.

#six sentence sunday #snowbaz #my writing #snowbaz speed dating

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that1emowitch · 6 months

Text

Villain - Chapter 6: Arkham Knight

Chapter links: Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch.3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch.6

Summary:

Jason escapes Arkham on his own and starts planning out his villain arc.

A/N

Guys just so you know, Jason in this timeline is actually Red Hood, but I'm just using the persona of Arkham Knight as Jay's villain self. He's not gonna do the things AK!Jason did.

Pov of Jason Todd, about a few hours after the last chapter.

I don’t want to go to lunch. Some part of me just wants to let me starve. If I’m going to die again, I’d rather it be on my terms than because the Rogue Gallery beat me to death. But the guards drag me there anyway.

A more rational side of me knows lunch is my best chance to escape.

Not that I have much of a chance anyway. Even with my enhanced healing from the Pit, it’d take me at least a few days of rest to completely recover.

Good thing I don’t have to completely recover for my plan to work.

When the guards force me onto a seat in the canteen and shove a plate of slop in front of me, I take a look around. As expected, all the Rogues coming in are looking at me, but they’re still being escorted by their guards. Right now, they can’t really harm me much.

This is my chance.

I suddenly throw my elbows back, catching both my escort guards in their groins, and quickly snatch a gun and card. A few bullets shoot towards me, but I dodge and make for the doorway. There are a huge number of guards coming after me, with reinforcements on the way, but the two dozen or so guards escorting other inmates, according to standard procedure, are stuck bringing their charges back to their cells so they don’t try to escape either. I can sense another fight going on, between Bane and the guards, but I pay it no mind.

Instead, I make my way out of the door, straight to the locker room where I’m certain all my equiptment’s locked up. I’m running purely on adrenaline, ignoring my legs screaming in agony. I shoot every damn person in my way, making full use of my League training, until I find myself in the locker room. I barricade the door behind me, making sure no one can follow.

The alarms blaring are now being accompanied by the sound of the whole place being locked down, but it’s nothing a few bombs couldn’t solve.

I find my equipment soon enough and quickly suit up. As I pull on my jacket and helmet, I suddenly feel much less claustrophobic, like the familiarity of the suit is granting me safety.

Obviously, they don’t just leave bombs lying around in Arkham, but they haven’t found those hidden in my helmet. My trusty guns are gone, I’ll have to make do without them.

It takes me less than a second to blow up the wall. I feel the fresh, cool air, and immediately start running in the direction of the wall surrounding the prison. For some reason, there aren’t as many guards around me as I expected. That’s when I see huge plants breaking away at a wall in the distance, with an armada of guards fighting them, but I don’t wait around to find out what’s going on.

What happens next feels like a blur— like I’m relying completely on my instincts to get me to safety. I’m vaguely aware of killing a few guards, blowing up another wall, stealing a car, driving to my safe house, then collapsing on the floor.

When I wake up I’m lying in a dried pool of my own blood. Seeing that jerks me awake instantly. My wounds mostly seem to have healed, but I can see a bullet wound I’ll have to reopen to dig the bullet out.

Fuck.

The memories come back to me in a wave— Batman putting me in Arkham, the Rogues, the J— NO!

I lean against a nearby chair, pulling myself up and shaking the thoughts ut of my head.

First things first. I need to clean up. This is a fucking mess. And I need to know the date.

I check my phone— I’ve been unconscious for 2 days. That’s two days wasted. Quietly scolding myself, I move to clean up the area, getting it done in a matter of minutes.

My stomach’s growling, but my thoughts are elsewhere— the Batman. Bruce. The man who pretended to be my father, then replaced me the moment I was gone, didn’t even bother to avenge me. When I came back he pretended to love me again, just to throw me out the moment I broke his precious rule. Him and his little nest of birds. All fakers.

I slam my fist down on the counter, making a slight dent. I hate them.

I need a plan, I decide. The last time I did this, I made Bruce choose between me and the Joker. He chose the fucking Joker over me! That should’ve been my sign to get far, far away from this shitshow.

“You’re not leaving Gotham,” I whisper to myself. “There’s too many people here who need the Red Hood— the kids , Jason, think about the kids! ”

A snort escapes me as I realise I’m talking to myself. I really have gone crazy, haven’t I?

“You need your revenge,” I continue anyway. Talking out loud, for some reason, makes me feel less alone . “Something to make sure the Bats never haunt you again.”

There’s only one sureshot way to guarantee that, but another voice, deep in my mind whispers, No! We’re not killing them.

For some reason, I agree. But there are other ideas I have. I pull out a notebook from one of my hidden drawers and start scribbling down a name: Arkham Knight.

Arkham’s what started this phase in my life, it should get some credit.

Maybe Batsy will finally get a villain worthy of him.

#ao3 fanfic #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #tim drake #jayroy #roy harper #batfam #batman #fanfic

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instruth · 12 days

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Hi Friends,

I may be out of action for two weeks, starting Sunday, 23 June 2024. I’m visiting my old hometown in Kuching, Sarawak, Borneo, now an eastern state of Malaysia.

I will, of course, travel down memory lanes. And I will accept the changes I’m going to see when I am there.

I go back often - the last time just two years ago (see pictures).

I am sharing below my poem about my old hometown, published in 2018 in one of my poetry books.

FAIR LAND OF BLISS

(My Old Hometown)

O fair land of bliss, birth place that helped groom my fragile youth ,

Of tales better remembered than sermons on unspoken truth,

Where poor emigrants had mingled well with the hornbills and the natives.

Alas! From afar, rich explorers arrived to rule and lord over their lives,

Plundering fields and habitat, cursing the blessed harmony.

Wounded, the sacred ground bled and moaned in loathsome agony,

Paving the way for the rise of a brand new breed

To overthrow this folly of pure foreign greed.

History shall repeat itself, sadly I must say,

For the rule is no better today than yesterday.

Rivers of greed, bribery and deceit still meander and burrow;

Bends and hidden tunnels have replaced the straight and narrow.

Prejudice and Power now possess the upper hand;

Fairness and Equality have vanished from the land.

Remembrance sweeps my mind to console my heaving breast;

Fond memories freeze my grief, comfort and put my pain to rest.

Near yonder bend on rocky road stood the sturdy devoted school,

That taught the virtues of saints and values of man-made rules.

Discipline and obligation had not known exception;

Truants and the disobedient must bear the rod of correction.

Constant prayer and hard work - its motto shall remain

Unchanged, to ascend the rugged path towards future gain.

Sports and athletics had carved endurance with sharpened strength,

To hurdle obstacles, to conquer heights, by width and by length.

It was the standard then and pray today is still the practice

To endow in Hope with fortitude, be one learned or apprentice.

Yet be not like the charging train but a constant contemplative,

Never to plunge head-on to desire but be wisely imaginative.

I had been there, unnoticed, apprehensive but not fearful.

In silence did I perceive the true lesson and learn to be grateful

For what I have become today in spirit, body and mind

To cherish the abounding grace and blessing I now find.

#poetryportal #writerscreeds #smittenbypoetry #spilledwords #writingthestorm #poeticstories #inkstainsandheartbeats #writtenconsiderstions

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blackswaneuroparedux · 1 year

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Anonymous asked: What’s your favourite piece of classical music that you discovered through a film soundtrack?

What an interesting question to which I have had to really scratch my head and think a little. The main issue is that if you are, like me, one of those kids who was exposed to classical music and some of its canon from an early age then the question becomes harder to answer. Like many other children, I was taught to play musical instruments and have music lessons from about 6 years old onwards. Films, especially the more adult themed ones with a classical score, were something you discovered much later in your teens onwards. So I’m going to cheat a bit here and there. For example I can’t include Milos Forman’s classic movie ‘Amadeus’ because I was already familiar with a range of Mozart’s repertoire before watching it.

Predictably, I’m going have to start with Walt Disney’s classic film ‘Fantasia’ (1940). This was perhaps the first film I was truly exposed to classical music in all its glory. It was Disney’s love letter to classical music and I can still watch it with child-like wonder at the magnificent music set to an incredible animation.

I’m pretty sure that Igor Stravinsky almost certainly wasn't thinking of dinosaurs when he wrote his ballet The Rite of Spring. But Walt Disney and his talented team of animators decided to tell the story of these prehistoric creatures using the dramatic, angular sounds of Stravinsky's masterpiece. And it's become one of the most famous sequences of the 1940s film.

The score was performed by the Philadelphia Orchestra under Leopold Stokowski and was narrated by composer Deems Taylor was awesome. As magnificent was the music that Toccata and Fugue in D minor by J. S. Bach, selections from The Nutcracker Suite by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikowsky, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice by Paul Dukas, Pastoral Symphony (Symphony No. 6) by Ludwig van Beethoven, and the “Dance of the Hours” by Amilcare Ponchielli, it was the last two pieces that left a real impression. Of course I’m talking about Night On Bald Mountain by Modest Moussorgsky, coupled with ‘Ave Maria’ by Franz Schubert.

I’m also going to add Léo Delibes’ Flower Duet (from the opera Lakmé). I used to hear this ad nauseam but not in a movie. This classic piece was the chosen soundtrack for the British Airways advertisement on television and in their departure lounges and flights. The ad - updated often - has been around in one form or another but with the same soundtrack since the 1980s. It was a huge feature of my childhood in the 90s. Whenever I boarded a flight in the Far East or South Asia or the Middle East to fly back home to Britain - because we lived overseas - you would hear this as you strapped yourself in to your seats.

As for my main list (in no particular order):

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Second movement of Beethoven's Symphony No.7 from: The King’s Speech (2010)

The climactic scene where King George VI has to make his speech ‘unto the nations’ was made more powerful by this piece. Like King George VI and his personal battles with his voice, much speculation has taken place over what personal agony the musical piece reflects in Beethoven’s life, especially since sketches for the movement predate the symphony by several years.

One clue is that Beethoven, who conducted the premier in December of 1813 for the veterans of the Battle of Hanau, made an address to these veterans, saying: "We are moved by nothing but pure patriotism and the joyful sacrifice of our powers for those who have sacrificed so much for us." There is every reason to believe that the deep emotion of this movement was founded on anything but what he said it was. His sentiment had existed long before 1813, as had the wars. Napoleon was being repelled, and the symphony is overall joyous.

However, Beethoven was not the kind of man to casually dismiss sacrifice, and the concert was dedicated to veterans. I believe that this movement celebrates those military veterans who made sacrifices for their nation, in much the same way King George VI was asking his subjects in Britain and the Commonwealth in the fight against evil menace of Nazism and Fascism.

Ligeti's Lux Aeterna and Requiem from: 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

I hated it. I saw it as a teen and I thought something was wrong with the audio. I still hate the piece but at least I know who Ligeti is. It was way too avant garde for me back then and it remains so today. I think scratching your nails down a chalk board has more melody than a piece by Ligeti. Kubrick clearly loved his work and used it in his other films such as The Shining and Eyes Wide Shut.

Richard Strauss - Also Sprach Zarathustra from 2001: Space Odyssey (1968)

By contrast I loved it. Music can be the difference between a highly memorable scene and one that leaves viewers with an indifferent shrug. It’s hard to believe that this classical piece was used in the main opening scene of the film originally as a temporary place holder by Kubrick whilst he waited for the film composer, Alex North, from the full soundtrack. In the end Kubrick left Strauss in and it made all the difference.

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Franz Schubert’s Piano Trio in E-Flat from: Barry Lyndon (1975)

The Piano Trio No. 2 in E-flat major for piano, violin, and cello, D. 929, was one of the last compositions completed by Franz Schubert in 1827 and one of the last pieces he heard being performed before he died. The track itself has been used in countless of movies over the decades such as The Hunger, Crimson Tide, The Piano Teacher, L'Homme de sa vie, Land of the Blind, Recollections of the Yellow House, The Way He Looks, The Mechanic, Miss Julie, The Congress, and the HBO miniseries John Adams. But I first heard it on Kubrick’s film Barry Lyndon and remember being captivated by the film and the music. I was a teen watching it my parents and the whole scene at the card table was beautifully directed and wonderfully lit. As I learned much later in life, Kubrick and his team invented new kind of film lens to be able to film in candlelight.

Handel's sarabande from: Barry Lyndon (1975)

The sarabande is traditionally the music written for a courtly dance in triple metre. Handel's version was composed for solo harpsichord at some point between 1703 and 1706 and first published in 1733. This classic piece is the 4th movement of the Cette pièce est le quatrième mouvement de la Suite in G minor composed for the harpsichord. Although the Sarabande was originally intended by its composer to be played solo on harpsichord, the orchestral version of the Sarabande is very well known these days thanks to the Barry Lyndon film. Moreover, the Sarabande is beloved by filmmakers and has been adapted several times for various films. It’s one of my favourite pieces and it reminds me of the English countryside for some reason rather than some formal court dance.

Domenico Cimarosa’s Concerto for Oboe in C Moll from: Though the Olive Trees (1994)

Directed by Abbas Kiarostami, this little known Iranian-French film was something I stumbled upon through my Norwegian mother who loved these kind of independent films when we lived in South Asia as an antidote to all the Bollywood films we children enjoyed. Kiarostami’s film traces the trouble arising when the romantic misfortune of one of the actors on a film set - a young man who pines for the woman cast as his wife, even though, in real life, she will have nothing to do with him - leaves the director caught in the middle. In hindsight I can now say it was a metafictional masterpiece. Kiarostami contemplates cinema and its romantic fallacies. The film is gorgeously grounded in Northern Iran’s folk traditions and with a soft focus on its shaken yet convalescent landscape. It’s a warmhearted tale that explores what happens when love goes unrequited - which was surprisingly relevant to a teen with raging hormones at the time.

Ralph Vaughan Williams’ Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis from: Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003)

A classical musical masterpiece in a masterful cinematic movie - both epic in every sense of the word. As a former British Army combat pilot it’s the only film that made me have a smidgen of sympathy with the Royal Navy. It was one of the first films I was allowed to go and see at the cinema itself as a teen. The film is almost faultless in terms of acting, directing, cinematography, and authentic detail. It even made me go and read one or two of the books by Patrick O’Brian. How Peter Weir never won an Oscar for directing I shall never know.

Vaughan Williams’s Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis is a 15-minute (or so) work for double string orchestra and string quartet, based on a melody by the 16th century composer Thomas Tallis. The quartet traditionally sits away from the orchestra in performance, to create an atmospheric antiphonal (alternating voices) effect. It is often known simply as the ‘Tallis Fantasia’. The tune is from a setting of Psalm 2 that Tallis wrote in 1567. It originally sets the words ‘Why fumeth in sight: The Gentils spite, In fury raging stout? Why taketh in hond: the people fond, Vayne things to bring about?’ It was in 1910 at a festival that Vaughan Williams himself conducted the London Symphony Orchestra in the first performance, which was followed in the same concert by Elgar conducting his own The Dream of Gerontius. Vaughan Williams, in his late 30s, was already establishing himself as a major name, but the Tallis Fantasia raised his profile even higher, not least because the concept of harking back to the 16th century was a comparatively new one.

The piece by Vaughn Williams is what has stayed with me throughout the years. In a nod to Proust, I chiefly identify the piece with reflections of my time on the battlefields of Helmand during my time in Afghanistan and especially seeing wounded friends and comrades long after we got back home from war.

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Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana from: Excalibur (1981)

I was already familiar with bits and pieces from Wagner’s operas - played loudly in our home by my parents - but I must admit this classic piece by Carl Orff I first heard watching John Boorman’s magical and majestical film about King Arthur and his knights of the Round Table. I know this piece has been used endlessly in other films and even gained fame as a men’s aftershave advertisement (so my father says) but I first heard it watching this film.

John Boorman’s 1981 fantastical retelling of Thomas Mallory’s Le Morte d’Arthur is, to quote Nicol Williamson’s Merlin in the film, “A dream to some. A nightmare to others!” It can sometimes come across as an episodic and hammy sword and sorcery tale, but I saw it as clever and satisfying retelling of an evergreen myth. I had read read Mallory’s epic books and so my expectations were unduly high. For the most part they were met and then some. Boorman took an abstract approach that shows us Arthur’s (unnamed) Kingdom, a place out of time, in several stages of transition; from dark to golden age, via loss of innocence, and painfully bloody rebirth. Excalibur arose out of the ashes of Boorman’s earlier attempt to bring J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings to the screen (ironically after trying to get a filmic retelling of the Merlin myth off the ground).

Excalibur is a cautionary tale. The characters are all struggling to find their place in the world, to maintain harmony with nature. Merlin says poignantly of Excalibur to Arthur, “It was forged when the world was young, and bird and beast and flower were one with man, and death was but a dream.” The film is a longing for a golden age, and the struggle to balance the warring natures of honour and goodness with human greed and jealousy. Surely the most rousing image is when Percival has returned the Grail to Arthur who, rejuvenated, also recovers Excalibur from Guinevere (now a nun, to atone for her adultery with Lancelot). She has kept it safe, knowing her once and future king would one day seek its power. Merlin is unfrozen by Arthur, and even Lancelot, a raggedy wild man driven into exile by his own shame, heeds his true king’s call. Arthur rides out with his knights and these fellow warriors through a re-blossoming countryside to do battle with Mordred for the soul of the land, to Carl Orff’s stirring music.

The name of Orff’s piece has Latin roots. 'Carmina' means 'songs', while 'Burana' is the Latinised form of Beuren, the name of the Benedictine monastery of Benediktbeuren in Bavaria. So, Carmina Burana translates as Songs Of Beuren, and refers to a collection of early 13th-century songs and poems that was discovered in Beuren in 1803 - although it has since been established that the collection originated from Seckau Abbey, Austria - and is now housed in the Bavarian State Library. The songs (over 1000 of them) were written in a mix of Latin, German and medieval French by the Goliards, a band of poet-musicians comprising scholars and clerical students, who celebrated with earthy humour the joys of the tavern, nature, love and lust. Although Orff set the original texts, he chose not to use the primitive musical notation that accompanied some of the songs. The collection was first published in Germany in 1847, but it wasn’t until 1934 that Orff came across the texts; a selection had been translated into English and formed part of a publication called Wine, Women And Song. With the help of Michael Hofmann, a law student and Latin scholar, Orff chose 24 songs and set them to music in what he termed a “scenic cantata”.

It was in this form that it was first heard on June 8, 1937, in Frankfurt, under its full title Carmina Burana: Cantiones Profanae Cantoribus Et Choris Cantandae Comitantibus Instrumentis Atque Imaginibus Magicis (Songs Of Beuren: Secular Songs For Singers And Choruses To Be Sung Together With Instruments And Magic Images) Quite a mouthful! After the triumphant premiere of Carmina Burana, Orff, then 41, wrote to his publishers: “Everything I have written to date, and which you have, unfortunately, published, can be destroyed. With Carmina Burana my collected works begin.” However, nothing Orff subsequently wrote ever came close to approaching the popularity of Carmina Burana. Oh dear.

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Richard Wagner’s Siegfried’s Funeral March (from the opera Götterdämmerung) from: Excalibur (1981)

The film almost plays like a screen Opera - it is a heightened reality, a world anew. One where sex, jealousy and pride threaten to undo the mystical balance and ties between the King and the land. A powerful aid to that feeling is the superb score which utilises music such as Siegfried’s Funeral March by Wagner, and O Fortuna, a medieval poem set to music by Carl Orff. Boorman was determined to squeeze as much of the legend into his film’s running time as possible, chopping and condensing characters, and switching acts around. He created a three-act saga - the dark ages and the birth of Arthur, a period of brutality and superstition; the rise of Camelot and its age of reason, law, and dawning of Christianity; and the final descent into chaos and wasteland, where a frail Arthur commands the Round Table knights to seek out the Grail. Arising out of this a final battle commences for the soul of the land and the people, a sense of renewal with a promise of a new age to come. Boorman called it the “past, present and future of humanity.”

Richard Wagner composed his opera Götterdämmerung between 1869 and 1874. It is the last of the four operas that make up Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen cycle, a project that had taken him over 25 years to complete. The opera is much renowned for its orchestral sequences, and these are often performed as concert extracts. Siegfried's Funeral March is taken from Act Three after Siegfried has been murdered by Hagen. Following his murder at the hands of Hagen, the death knell of “Siegfried’s Funeral March” opens with funereal timpani as Siegfried’s body is placed on his shield and carried off by the vassals. The music vacillates from deep mourning and rage-filled outbursts to the majesty of the “Hero” motif, brought out in bold relief at the centre of the movement.The whole opera is made up of musical motives from previous operas that tell of Siegfried's background, including the Volsung theme, Siegmund and Sieglinde's theme, the Sword, Brünnhilde's love theme and the curse of the Ring.

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Richard Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries (Die Walküre) from: Apocalypse Now (1979)

Francis Ford Coppola's Vietnam War phantasmagoria is an epic fresco oozing with madness. It is a madness that manages to escape from the frame and infect the director and his team, turning the film into a legend. It is impossible not to talk about this film without mentioning the Dantesque shooting of the film. A typhoon that destroyed the sets, a heart attack that nearly killed Martin Sheen, a Brando who was more obese and obtuse than ever, who arrived on the set without knowing his lines, and a director at the end of his rope physically and psychologically, on the verge of divorce and suicide. Instead of taking four months to complete, the shoot lasted 15 months. The analogy with the hell of Vietnam is obvious.

The film itself is about Benjamin Willard, a special forces captain, who is given a highly perilous mission: to find and assassinate Colonel Kurtz, a renegade who has set up his headquarters on the Cambodian border. To accomplish his mission, Willard must travel up a river in a small patrol boat with a handful of men. We follow Willard sinking into the madness and insanity of this war, personified by the character of Colonel Kurtz, an obese Buddhist, a true godfather of the Vietnamese jungle. Apocalypse Now is in fact a mirror for the spectator, it plays on our feelings about the Vietnamese conflict, and this is what sets it apart from other great war films. It is a physical and very real journey through Vietnam, but also an inner journey for its hero, Willard, a drug addict and alcoholic, which will allow Coppola to make his denunciation of the war. After watching this movie over several years I’ve come to regard Coppola’s movie as more than just a war movie but also an hallucinatory trip, as anxiety provoking as possible, about the human soul lost inside itself.

For a movie that had two of my greatest loves - combat helicopters and Wagner - the film surprisingly didn’t inform my future career path as a combat pilot for the British Army. I was too young as a teen and caught up with other feminine things girls of my age did. But watching it retrospectively I’m sure it had some unconscious influence on me. I noticed things more with each viewing such as before Jim Morrison's paradoxical and delightful prologue, it is the helicopter blades that open Apocalypse Now. The jerky noise that spatialises this mortifying horizon is a motif that will be the melodic line of the entire film. In crosshatching, it truncates reality and allows the initial confusion of a man in reverse who opens his eyes on an uncertain world. The fan in the hotel room is not the air-conditioned shelter of war. Everything, from then on, is under the sign of duality.

Then of course we have the euphoric scene but no less horrifying than the helicopter attack by Kilgore and his men to lay waste to a village so that they could surf. And all done to the terrifying bombast of Wagner’s Ride of Valkyries. It’s a demented scene but also so visually lyrical. Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries is sadistically perfect. It’s a perfect mythical metaphor of the valkyries who majestically flew in the sky and decided who died in battle from above. Of course the symbolism of Wagner - wrongly tarred with its fascist connotations - as a place holder for Western imperialism over the Vietnamese is not lost on the viewer. It’s a clever piece of juxtaposition.

Armies have of course used music in warfare for millennia. The deployment of musicians - from trumpeters to drummers - in battle was useful in instilling regimentation and rhythmic purpose for soldiers; and in days before radio, in carrying specific orders across the battlefield. As well as unifying an army - it could potentially disorient the enemy, or as Kilgore eruditely elaborates: ‘We use Wagner, it puts the shits up the slopes. My boys love it!’. So what we are seeing is an age old military tactic being given a modern twist. This has already been established by the notion of an air cavalry, trading their horses for helicopters - which gets further embodied by Kilgore’s wearing of a cowboy hat, common to the Western film genre. The symbolism of linking old and new - ancient and modern, history and the present - occurs throughout Apocalypse Now, as it does in the original novella Heart of Darkness. It indicates an uncomfortable continuum, a never ending foreboding cycle. That beneath the fragile veneer of civilisation, humanity is endlessly repeating barbarism - a cycle foreshadowed by helicopter/fan blades at the start of the film which also loops back to become the end of the film - itself a cycle that won’t end.

When I flew combat helicopters over in Afghanistan we were banned from playing music in our cockpit. It’s simply not practical because you need to be aware of all your aural cues of what the hell is going on around you as every mission is task intensive. You’re focused on a mission where the shit can hit the fan such as coming under rocket attack at any second especially if you’re on a night mission. In theory you could, as anyone with some audio equipment and electronics knowledge could wire in a 3.5mm headphone jack and hook up your music into your own helmet. I knew some pilots who broke the ban and did this. They would get their clever avionic ground staff technician crew to put in a some sort of patch cord that could plug through to their helmet ICS - in return you get them a case of beer. I’m not telling where we got the beer from.

Other honourable mentions:

Second movement of Schumann's Piano Quintet from: Fanny and Alexander (1982)

Gaetano Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor "Il dolce suono" from: The 5th Element (1997)

Rodrigo's Concierto de Aranjuez from: Brassed Off (1996)

Maurice Ravel’s Trio en la mineur pour piano, violon et violoncelle, Sonata for Violin and Cello, Violin Sonata #2 in G, and Berceuse Sur le Nom De Gabriel Fauré from: Un Coeur en Hiver/A Heart in Winter (1992)

Mozart’s Divertimento in D major, K. 136 from: Out of Africa (1985)

Carl Orff - Schulwerk Volume 1: Musica Poëtica - Gassenhauer from Badlands (1973)

Puccini’s O mio babbino caro (aria from the opera Gianni Schicchi) from: A Room with a View (1985)

Verdi’s La forza del destino (the Force of Destiny) overture from: Jean de Florette (1986)

Mozart’s Letter Duet (from The Marriage of Figaro) from : The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

Thanks for your question

#ask #question #music #film #soundtrack #movie #cinema #film soundtrack #composer #classical music #arts #culture #personal

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bratshaws · 1 year

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through the hourglass 73.brb x oc

a/n: BOY OH BOY. I was anxious again today but I wanted to post this uwu

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: fluff, dad-honorary grandpa- grandaughter being cute combo PART DEUX

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/

25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44

45/46/47/48/49/50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64

/65/66/67/68/69/70/71/72

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!! )

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@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23

Nicole, after ‘hugging’ her father and burping, kept her arms around Rooster’s neck and chin on his shoulder, back rising and falling slowly with every breath she took but she wasn’t asleep yet. In reality she was just resting her face on her father’s shoulder as he rocked her in his arms, Maverick sitting next to them, “She isn’t sleeping.”

Bradley looks back down where Nicole was and smiles, “She takes a while,she likes looking around first and then falling asleep.” he explains, watching as Nicole’s little fist held onto his sleeve, the white fabric crinkling in her grasp, “It’s an habit of hers…isn’t that right,cutie?” Nicole just ‘ah’ed back, dropping her head on his shoulder, still holding his sleeve, “She’s a nice baby.”

“She doesn’t cry much does she?”

“Not really.” Rooster kisses the top of her head, “Only when she really needs to.”

“Must’ve gotten that from Beatrice.”

“I wasn’t that loud.”

“One time I stayed over your parents’ house and I had the pleasure to share walls with your room.” Maverick said in a deadpan voice, “You…were very loud,Rooster.”

Bradley just huffed, sinking a bit in his seat as he held Nicole, his daughter’s eyes slowly falling shut as the sleep was finally taking over, the hand gripping his shirt drops to the side and she sighs one final time as she steps into dreamland. Both him and Mav stare at her sleeping form, long lashes on top of cherub-like cheeks making her look like a little doll, “She’s out.” Rooster whispered, “I’m going to put her down.”

“Do you need a pillow?”

“There’s one in her bag.” both of them were whispering,even if Rooster knew that Nicole rarely woke up because of outside influences when she was asleep. He just holds Nicole up as he watches Pete disappear and reappear with the white pillow in his grasp, “Thanks,Mav.”

“Don’t mention it..” he shrugs, “Now…here,” he sets the pillow on top of the jacket and Rooster gently sets her down so her head sinks into the foam. Nicole makes a little disgruntled noise but doesn’t wake up, in fact she just sighs softly into the pillow and lets herself fall asleep deeply and unbothered. She squeezes the chicken against her chest, it croaks out in agony but Nicole doesn’t wake up.

Rooster and Maverick stood side by side looking down at the sleeping baby, with the youngest of the two smiling with pure adoration, “...she’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen Mav.”

“She sure is.”

“And the fact she’s mine and Bea’s…it’s…it’s crazy.”

Maverick almost rolled his eyes playfully, “Five minutes passed until you mentioned Bea again, the girl’s ears will be on fire because of you.”

“It’s not my fault I love talking about her,” Rooster muttered, “Or thinking about her, or-”

“Alright,Romeo,we got that.” Pete chuckles, holding up a hand, “Now are you going to help me out?”

“In a minute,” Rooster holds out his phone, “I need to talk to her real quick.” Maverick sighed humorously, shaking his head again and then gestured to the side, meaning he could do that and he wouldn’t mind. Bradley just patted his uncle on the shoulder, giving Nicole one last look before he walked off to the side.

Bea would like to know that Nicole was having fun…and was already asleep. He leans against the wall as he calls Beatrice, seeing that his uncle was keeping an eye on Nicole while still working on the bike for the best of his ability. Rooster hears the phone ring once, then twice and finally he hears that lovely voice say

“Rooster.”

Wait that wasn’t Bea.

“Shells?”

“In the flesh,Chanticleer, what’s crackin’?”

He blinks, “...well,that’s Bea’s phone.’ followed by the positive humming from Shells, “So why are you answering it?”

“Quite simple,Rooster. Bea is busy helping the new girl, she knows the kid…I think her name is uhhh…Jessie?”

Jessie. Oh! The girl from months back, the one that Beatrice said reminded her so much of herself! He was a bit happy that she returned to the bar, he remembers Bea saying how upset she acted when she was still in there, “Ah,okay,is she…too busy now? I kinda wanted to talk to her.”

There’s the obvious sound of something being crunched, followed by Shells’ muffled voice saying “Course you do- BEA!” he jumps, clenching his eyes and pulling the phone away from his ear as Shells’ loud voice made it ring. He blinks to get rid of the shock, not hearing when Shells walks away and hands the phone over to Beatrice.

“Hi,Roos!”

Ah, that was much better.

“Hey,gorgeous.” he coos after his ear stopped hurting, “I’m happy to hear your voice…don’t tell Shells but I think she wants me deaf or something.” Beatrice giggles on the other line, the sound of boxes being moved around following, “She told me about the new girl.”

“Yes!Jessie! She’s doing great so far!”

“You sound happy to see her working there.”

“Oh,well,I can’t help it.” there’s a door closing in the background and he hears wind replacing the sound coming from inside the bar “She’s pretty good too! She needed the job and Penny needed the help…I think she’ll do fine! She’ll be around when me and Shells aren’t, we decided she should start with the calmer days too so she’d be used to it. But she also said she can fill in for us, if there is an emergency or whatnot.”

Beatrice sounded way more excited than he’d expect because of the new girl, “Gorgeous,” he smiles, lowering his voice, “What aren’t you telling me?”

He could hear her breathing hitch and then when she spoke he knew she was smiling, “She said there’s a guy at the bar that kept looking at her every time she came by. And I think she is…excited to meet him again. Well, from what she told me that is…and that’s so romantic Roos! If this guy really likes her, they could be a 2.0 version of us!”

Ah,Beatrice, always the romantic. He couldn’t get enough of her, “Gorgeous you are just so precious.” he chuckles, “Of course you’d like that idea, and I gotta admit, it is pretty interesting to see something like that from the outside.”

“I know!Well I don’t want to be that type of person who just, you know, gets excited because of people dating, I don’t even know if they will date but I just thought it was interesting to mention.”

“It was.” he smiles, “And your precious heart couldn’t take it.”

“Hah, not really…anyway, how are you guys? How’s Mav? How’s Nikki?”

Rooster looks up to where his uncle was, messing with the bike with the wrench between his teeth, “Everything is fine, we are working on the bike right now and Nikki is great. She just had lunch and is sleeping right now.”

“Oh that’s really good! No crying,right?”

“Just once when I tried to get her seat from the car because I didn’t want her to sit on the couch.”

Beatrice was silent for a bit, then replied with a confused and chuckled, “What?”

“Mav has an old couch in here, it has seen better days and I didn’t want Nikki to sit on it, so I thought that bringing her seat from the car would help but she started crying and I couldn’t go.” he could hear her trying to cover her laughter, probably by biting her lip, ‘...are you making fun of me?”

“No! No, no, it’s just,” a snort slips out, “I-It’s really cute!”

Bradley purses his lips, he’s not really annoyed, there’s no way he’d be annoyed at Beatrice but her laughter always made his heart spin, “Cute,huh?”

“Yes,my husband is unbelievably cute.” comes her quick reply, softer, almost whispered as if she didn’t want other people to know about it, “And sweet, and handsome and he has the nicest lips I’ve ever kissed. So maybe I’m a bit biased.”

“Just a bit?”

“Just a bit.” she giggles again, “But I’m glad you,Nikki and Pete are having fun together, I know how much you care about her too. And it’s really heartwarming,Roos. It really is. It makes me happy knowing how safe you want us to be.”

Oh and he melted on the spot. He chuckles, almost embarrassedly, rubbing the side of his face as he turns around to give his back to Mav, nearing bashfulness, “Baby,” he scolds softly, “You are just too sweet for this world…but thank you. I appreciate hearing that from you…when do you think you leave?’

“Um…maybe around three? We have to wait for some deliveries.”

“Hm…well,I was thinking we could go out tonight. You,me and Nikki. It’d be her first time too.”

‘Oh…I’d love that.” Beatrice’s voice was breathy when she replied, almost dreamily, “Do you have a place in mind?”

“Remember that taco truck we went to after the amusement park?”

“Oh, the one you took me to before we invaded the base? Yes,I remember.”

Rooster’s smirk widened, “It wasn't an invasion. It was just…showing up uninvited,gorgeous.” he spins the wedding ring on his finger with his thumb, seeing the golden band glint under the light, “But yeah, that one.”

“I like that. We just need to uh…restock, before leaving.” she says “You know how fast Nikki goes through bottles.”

“That I do,gorgeous.” he smiles, “It’ll be fun, I know Nikki is too young to eat anything we do but the experience will be important for her.” and he could swear he heard Beatrice’s sigh end with a disbelieved chuckle.

“And we can take her these again when she’s older.”

“We sure can. Maybe she’ll grow to love it just like we do.”

‘I have a feeling she will,” Beatrice hummed while still on the phone,”Oh, I have to go back now,Roos. Call me before you leave?”

“Sure thing,gorgeous. Stay safe,love you.”

“Love you too! Stay safe as well!”

He sighs dreamily when he ends the call, rubbing his face with a hand as he smiles like a boy with a crush. Only Beatrice was able to make him act like a fool in love, “Ahem,” after all, she was his wife and he loved her “Rooster,” and there was nothing else that could-”Bradley.” the pilot’s thoughts cease and he slowly turns to face his uncle, who looks amused and annoyed at the same time, gesturing with the wrench to the motorcycle, “Do you mind?”

“Oh,right, sorry Mav.”

By the time Nicole woke up they were done fixing the bike, they did all they could and Rooster told Mav to at least take her to a mechanic so they could give her another check up before he got back on her wheels. His uncle didn’t seem pleased, but he agreed to do so after Rooster’s silent but gentle goading - only using his eyes and eyebrows, a technique he got from Carole.

Nicole whimpered awake, rubbing her tiny fists against her eyes and inhaling deeply, “Look at her,” Maverick smirks, with his hands on his waist, “Slept through the whole thing, didn’t even care about the noise.”

“I told you she was one of a kind.” Rooster says, approaching his daughter after cleaning his hands, “Hi,hi, Birdie.” Nicole’s light green eyes finally met his and albeit still a little sleepy, she gurgled a laugh, reaching out for him, “Hi Sleeping Beauty, come on,” he picks her up with an exaggerated ‘oof!’ and kisses her warm cheek, “Did you sleep well?” Nicole just looks at him again, her pigtails wonky and some of her hair is coming out.

“She looks like she did,” Maverick says as she stands close to Rooster, smiling at Nicole when she babbles at him, “Yes,I know honey! I know, you slept so nicely!” her cute yawn followed by her dropping her still heavy head on Rooster’s shoulder almost made the two men fall on their knees because of cuteness, “She’s so adorable…hey,do you gotta go yet?”

“Um,” he checks his watch, “Bea will get out at three so I have…half an hour yet, why?”

Maverick just looks at his nephew and then chuckles, “Wait here, there’s something I need to show you.”

“Alright. I’ll fix Nikki’s hair.”

“You can do that?”

Rooster rolls his eyes as he sits down on the couch with Nicole on his lap, “I watch a lot of tutorials. I’m not going to be a dumb dad that doesn’t know the basics because this is ‘girly stuff.’” Nicole babbles in agreement as her father undoes one of her pigtails and combs his fingers through her hair, “Besides, this is fun…and kinda therapeutic.”

Pete stood by the wall and smiled, but this smile was almost…wistful. There was something that Carole told him when she was pregnant with Bradley, that her son ‘had to know a little bit of everything, he’s not going to refuse to experiment because people consider it ‘girly’,Mav.’ and at the time, he had to admit he didn’t get that back then - different times, different minds after all - but now he could see why.

Rooster had become a strong man, a man with a good heart - with some temperamental issues, sometimes with a pinch of self doubt - but he grew up to be…what his parents wanted to. Well,maybe Carole wasn’t as excited for Bradley to join the Navy and follow Goose’s footsteps, but he had a feeling she was very proud of the man he turned out to be.

Not the pilot, but the man, the father, the husband. And he was sure they’d love Beatrice too and Nicole…and…he was hit once again with that awful feeling of melancholy, the heaviness in his stomach and his heart, the sting behind his eyes. But no, he couldn’t be upset now, not when he had things to do, “Be right back.”

“Alright.” Rooster didn’t even look up from Nicole when his uncle left, too busy trying to make the pigtails similar. He leans back against the couch to have a better look, then tilts his head this way and that to be sure they were aligned, “...nice. Not so bad,if I do say so myself,Nikki.” Nicole had no idea what happened, she was just glad to be involved, giggling at him and then falling back against his stomach.

“Got you.” he smiles,picking his daughter from behind and bringing her up to his face, where he proceeds to kiss those chubby cheeks of hers just so she laughed. “There, you look really nice, mommy is going to be proud of my hair styling skills.” he pats Nicole’s shirt, flicking pieces of dust that naturally cling to one’s clothing but he wasn’t happy with that.

Nicole just tried to grab his hand, her own smaller ones wrapping around his ring finger, right where his wedding band was, “Buh!” and she taps on it, he didn’t know what she wanted but he allowed her to do whatever she’d like. He smiles down at Nicole, who amazingly, manages to spin the wedding ring around his finger much like he did with his thumb whenever his hands weren’t busy.

“Look at that.” Nicole is amazed that it moves, “You saw daddy doing it,didn’t you? Aren’t you just so smart.”

It was almost scary how quick Nicole caught on to things, how unfazed she was with others and how much she managed to do at such a young age.

“Back.” he hears his uncle call, “Took a while to find it.”

“What took you a while?”

“Well,” Rooster looks up in time to see a small aviator jacket…well, small-ish, it was for toddlers if he was right on the size checking even from afar, with patches. Small patches of cute animals - but especially chickens, of course - on the sleeves, “I saw this a few months back and I bought it but…I didn’t know how to give it to you.”

Rooster furrowed his brows, holding Nicole as he stood to his feet to check the jacket once he’s close enough, “Why were you worried?” He holds the small sleeve and rubs the pink cat patch on it, “It’s adorable,Mav.”

“Hah,well,” his uncle sucks air through his teeth, “I don’t know,I guess I was just holding onto some things from the past and I was a bit worried about giving this as a gift.”

Even without him saying it,Rooster knew why Pete was worried about giving his daughter an aviator jacket. He inhales shakily, then chuckles as Nicole touches the sleeve as well,”Well…I like it.” he says quietly, “And so does she, apparently.” Nicole was rubbing the colorful giraffe patch on the front of her new jacket, widening her eyes as it shifted colors.

Maverick was happy with her response, and his, so he handed the jacket to Rooster before grabbing the baby bag he brought along after his nephew said they should go back home now. “Bye Nikki.” Mav smiles, waving at his grand-niece after Bradley buckles her up, “Oh she’s waving back!” Nicole shakes her arm with the chicken still screaming “Bye, pretty thing, bye! Thanks for joining us today!”

After Rooster closes the passenger door, looking at the folded jacket next to his daughter, he faces Maverick. His uncle just gives him a small smile, a bit confused because of how Rooster is staring at him, “...I really wanted to thank you,Mav…I…” he laughs softly, “...thank you, for being here for me…and for Nikki too.”

“Ah, it’s my pleasure.” even if he sounded nonchalant,Rooster knew he felt more emotional than he showed, “It’s what family is for,right?”

Rooster smiles, his eyes shine with unshed tears “...Yeah,” and he wraps his arms around his uncle, who reciprocates the hug, clapping him on the back. Rooster clenches his eyes with a shaky inhale, trembling a bit, “Thank you for staying.”

“...thank you for letting me stay.”

Both men pull back and try, awkwardly wiping their eyes, “Anyway,I better go. We are going out tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, family outing before Halloween.” Rooster shrugs, still wiping his eyes the best he could, “Nicole’s first time out too.”

Pete smiles, touching his nephew’s shoulder, “You guys have fun,you hear?” Rooster nods, thanking him one last time before he walks to the Bronco driver’s side. He waves at the pilot, then at Nicole - who eagerly waves back- before stepping back to give them enough space to drive off, watching the car disappear in the distance as he chuckles tiredly and walks back into the garage.

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