salvage
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It was, if one were in the mood to admit it, which Dazai decidedly wasn’t, a lovely resort in a truly picturesque seaside town. The sliding glass door of his room in the luxurious guest house opened onto a stunning vista of fine sand beach and flat ocean, painted in hues of orange and pink and soft pale gray by the setting sun. A light sea breeze ruffled Dazai’s hair as he peered out over the landscape, carrying with it the clean sharp scent of the ocean. He could hear in the distance the constant hush of the waves lapping at the flat sand of the beach.
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The stairwell feels close, dimly lit, with a single battered handrail that leads Chuuya into the underground space of Bar Lupin. It has none of the usual bar noise, no thumping bass of music, no clink of glass nor chatter of customers. It is empty, Chuuya discovers, except for a single bartender wearing a crisply white shirt and a dark vest. Chuuya greets him and slides onto a seat at the bar; it’s high, he has to hop up a little, and he hooks his heels over a rung in the chair, settling his elbows on the counter.
Chuuya goes to Bar Lupin with a mission. It mostly succeeds.
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(even in the tremor i feel) a stillness growing by salvage
Fandoms: Criminal Minds (US TV)
22 Apr 2019
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They had both grown up, but Ethan seemed to have done so more than Spencer had: the loose sprawl of his body exuded the confidence of someone who knew his place in the world, knew himself, in a way that Spencer now didn’t believe he ever would. Ethan’s beard only half-hid the planes and angles of his face, the boyish roundness of his cheeks long since smoothed into sharp cheekbones and a defined jawline. Even the gap at the collar of his shirt seemed deliberate, the tiny visible vee of undershirt somehow intentional. To what purpose Spencer could only guess; surely it was not meant to distract him, though that’s what it was doing. His eyes kept drifting to Ethan’s throat and the dip between his collarbones, the smooth tan skin below which worked tendons, pink muscles, the complex highways of artery and vein.
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Juuto clicked his tongue like a disapproving parent as he rounded the corner, stopping in front of Samatoki’s cell with his hands in his pockets. He wore a dove-gray suit with a white shirt and a thin black tie, adorned, as ever, with bright silver collar pins and his gleaming tie bar. With his elbows bent, the suit jacket pulled slightly across his body, fabric taut, accentuating his broad shoulders and slim waist.
“Don’t fucking say it,” Samatoki growled.
A smile cut across Juuto’s face. “Quite the greeting toward someone who’s doing you a favor.”
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You got used to the smell. It wasn’t the smell of rot, not after they came back, though for the first week or so that thick sick scent of decay lingered where their fur parted to reveal the soft viscera of their bodies. It was the smell of magic, the scorched scent of lightning in the heavy late-summer air, the bright metallic tang of blood at the back of your throat. So his home smelled of metal, usually; decay, sometimes; and, when the wind blew just right, the salt sharpness of the sea, the fragrance of the cypress and pine trees that flourished on the island, the sweet ripe citrus fruits that grew in a small grove near his house.
Recent series
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Ravines by imochan
Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
22 Nov 2016
- Words:
- 11,825
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 71
Bookmarked by salvage
10 Nov 2019
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Summary
As the years pass, Yoongi can’t help himself from reaching out and holding Namjoon’s hand, when the others can’t see him frowning but Yoongi can. He can’t help himself from sprawling across Namjoon’s lap in the little sofa in the studio, when Namjoon looks so tired and so stressed and there’s only two weeks until the deadline on the next track. He can’t help himself from smiling, pleased, when Namjoon crawls into Yoongi’s bed late at night, muttering that he can’t sleep. They move dorms, gain privacy, change roommates, but Namjoon still keeps coming.
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Bookmarked by salvage
14 Oct 2019
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High Praises by elektratios
Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV)
26 Jul 2019
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“Look at the state of you,” he said, pasting a frown on his face, “you’re desperate after only a bit of teasing. Heaven forbid anyone looks over and sees you like this, my dear.”
Bookmarked by salvage
12 Aug 2019
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Fragments Shored Against My Ruin by apliddell
Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV)
06 Jul 2019
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Summary
Crowley has decided to have another longish nap. Aziraphale wants a little time with him first.
Bookmarked by salvage
27 Jul 2019
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Leaves of Grass by Laura Shapiro (laurashapiro)
Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
12 Jul 2019
- Words:
- 12,665
- Works:
- 4
- Bookmarks:
- 179
Bookmarked by salvage
26 Jul 2019