#about what role amber played in her mind after death | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

samstree · 3 years

Text

and the wolf was nowhere to be found (3/4)

It dawns on Jaskier that in the span of only a few days, his and Geralt’s roles have reversed.

(3.2k, lying spell/potion, cursed jaskier, blood and injury, miscommunication)

The reverse trope series masterlist.

AO3

Jaskier is perched on the edge of the bed, exactly where he woke up an eternity ago. The barmaid is filling the bathtub with one bucket of water after another, but he pays no attention.

He fidges with the splints on his arms, careful not to tug on the tendons. With how swollen his wrists are, that seems like an impossible feat.

“You alright by yourself?” the girl asks, pouring the last of the water.

“Yes.”

Jaskier lets the word out without a fight. It wouldn’t do much good anyway. The barmaid is gone within a second, and Jaskier sits alone in the inn room with both arms immobilized and a hot bath waiting.

Untying the laces is painful. Jaskier ends up with a head full of sweat by the time his doublet hits the ground, and the intricate bindings on his chemise give him an even bigger headache. His arms tremble like they are getting more broken by the minute.

It takes forever for Jaskier to strip himself nude and notice the bloodstains all the way down his neck. The wound at his nape is sewed close neatly, barely stinging by now, but with one look of himself in the mirror, Jaskier knows he’s a mess. The dried blood, added by the dark circles under his eyes, makes quite a harrowing picture.

He sinks into the hot water and rests his arms by the edge, the warmth loosening his muscles and clearing the smell of blood. Gradually, he lowers himself under the surface and feels his lungs burn.

Drowning himself would be a nice idea, if only he isn’t sticking out his forearms just so the splints don’t get soaked. Also, Geralt will blame himself even more, so there goes the thought.

Jaskier emerges and shakes away the droplets like a wet dog. He can’t get soap into his hair anyway. Sitting there in self-pity and regret is his only option.

And what right does Jaskier have to feel sorry for himself? Geralt is the one hurt by the poison he spewed, curse or not, and yet he still sewed up Jaskier’s neck and bandaged his wrists. He even ordered a bath for Jaskier when he left, for good this time, Jaskier is sure. There’s no reason for Geralt to stay after all, now that he believes Jaskier is ready to turn on him at every chance just like everybody else.

In the end, it doesn’t matter that a fae in the woods made him say it. Geralt will never be his friend again, let alone anything Jaskier has only allowed his heart to entertain in the wildest dreams.

That’s why he sucks in a surprised breath when a knock comes from the door. Jaskier bites into his lips, just to be safe.

“It’s me.” Geralt’s voice is small, tentative. “Do you need help?” After a stretch of silence, he pushes open the door slowly. “I only want to check on you—Gods, Jaskier, are you in pain?”

Is he? Perhaps soaking his wound in hot water and clutching at the tub with his broken hands isn’t that wise.

“I…” The chair screeches against the floor and Geralt settles next to Jaskier. “I know you don’t want to see me, but you can’t treat your injuries so carelessly. Here.”

Geralt picks up a bar of soap and dips it into water. The next thing Jaskier knows, gentle hands are threaded through his hair and massaging his scalp.

“I’ll just clean it and bandage it. It won’t take long.”

Jaskier looks into the unbearable sadness in those amber eyes, and hates that he’s doing this to Geralt.

“I hate that I’m doing this to you, Jaskier. I—” Geralt sighs. “I wish I could go back and leave you alone after the mountain. I’d make sure we never meet in that damned tavern in Posada if it means you won’t get hurt. Seeing you like this, I—”

Jaskier catches Geralt’s gaze, pleading and seeking, and feels the witcher still under his attention. No, he doesn’t deserve any comfort, not when he’s the one completely at blame. It’s bad enough that Geralt believed all those awful things, and Jaskier won’t ask for more.

“Jaskier?”

He looks down again and lets Geralt go back to his ministrations.

Geralt sighs with relief, and Jaskier swallows the lump in his throat.

Gods, he wants to explain, wants more than anything to erase the hurt he inflicted—if that is still possible. Letting Geralt believe those things is so fundamentally wrong. But how will Jaskier explain? With his voice gone and wrists ruined, there’s no real way of communication, and the thought of more awful things slipping out by accident is enough for Jaskier to wish for death by drowning again.

He let twenty years pass without ever admitting his love, and now he’s lost the chance.

The water trickles down Jaskier’s temple when Geralt rinses out the soap. His movement is achingly gentle, rough calluses ghosting over Jaskier’s skin only by accident. If only tenderness can kill. Tears well up again, and he’s losing control.

“Does it still hurt?” Geralt asks while retrieving a towel.

“No.”

The first preferable lie of the day.

Slowly, Jaskier turns around to let Geralt dry the curls near his forehead, his jaw clenching tight again. There’s a crease between Geralt’s brows, his amber eyes unconvinced. A large sheet is wrapped around Jaskier’s frame when he steps out of the tub.

Jaskier hisses when he tries to catch the hem of the sheet, and Geralt stills. “Let me see your wrists.”

Jaskier stares into amber eyes, silently hoping that without an answer, Geralt will leave him to his misery. He can’t afford another slip. And yet, determination creeps into Geralt’s features, and there’s no point in fighting anymore. A determined Geralt is not someone Jaskier can refuse.

“I’ll be quick,” Geralt pauses. “Please?”

It’s unfair how kind Geralt is being.

Jaskier’s shoulders sag when he pads across the room to sit on the bed, arms gathering the sheet into a heap near his midriff. He should maintain at least a shred of dignity.

Geralt sits down next to him, shoulders weighed down, looking just as tired as Jaskier feels. Still, when he unwraps Jaskier’s wrists, his motion is the most precise thing, touching just enough for practical purposes, not sparing even a brush of knuckles.

Even the slightest probing sends a sharp bolt of pain up Jaskier's arms, but it’s nothing compared to the torture of being so close to Geralt, dreading his fate—being left alone once again. This time, it’ll be permanent and he’ll deserve it.

Jaskier holds his breath, waiting for the inevitable blow that is Geralt declaring he’ll leave on first light. For reasons beyond this world, it doesn’t come. Instead, Geralt lets out a strangled sound.

Jaskier frowns. His wrists are painted with a plethora of black and purple bruises, the edges fading into green and yellow, which is just to be expected.

“You’ll never play again,” Geralt whispers. “If we don’t do anything about it.”

Does it matter? He has long since forgotten how to sing without Geralt in his songs.

“I—” Geralt wraps the gauze around the splints, one by one, tucking in the end. “I asked around just now. Word says a mage is only a day’s ride away. No one at the market was sure, but I am. Yen is only a day away. We can make it tomorrow.”

At the mention of the sorceress’s name, the press of teeth against his tongue is the last of Jaskier’s worry, and he retracts his arms instantly. Under the thin sheet, Jaskier shivers.

“Jaskier, I can’t leave you like this. You need your music when I—” Geralt shakes his head, the pursed line of his lips impossibly sad. “—When you go. Yennefer can fix it. I know you can’t stand me, but at least grant me the peace of mind. Let me know you will be all right, after.”

The dim room turns hazy in the candlelight, and Jaskeir can only curl into himself to stem the tears. He sits there for too long, not sure if he nodded. Wrapping the wound on his head doesn’t take long, and then Geralt is gone without a word.

Jaskier hugs himself tighter, and sobs into the quiet night, the aches of his body finally tiring him out.

Strapping the lute case to Roach’s saddle is a task Geralt has done hundreds of times, and yet he fidgets with the contraption in the morning, adjusting it so many times, pulling at the knot again and again.

It’s almost like he wants to stretch their journey longer.

But then, one look at Jaskier’s splinted arms and bandaged head, he smoothes a hand down Roach’s mane and deemed her ready to go.

Riding on the mare while the witcher walks ahead of them is not the most novel experience for Jaskier. Despite Geralt’s overprotectiveness of his mare, he’s always let Jaskier ride if he was truly distressed—or simply complained loudly enough.

There’s no complaining during their one-day journey, even Roach is behaving like the good girl she is. Jaskier gladly endures her glares as long as she doesn’t throw him off her back. Perhaps she senses that will certainly kill him.

The small village looms by the end of the road, right next to the setting sun, and Jaskier’s knees almost buckle under him as he dismounts. He catches the saddle by instinct and chokes in a grunt. There’s fresh blood between his teeth. Geralt’s hands steady Jaskier by the elbows as he breathes through the pain, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

Walking into Yennefer’s cottage like this is the last thing Jaskier wants, but what choice does he have? She has long since figured out how pathetic he is. A mere human plastered himself to a witcher’s side, never once considering the possibility that he’s unwanted. A mock or two from Yennefer of Vengerburg aren’t anything new.

To Jaskier’s surprise, when violet eyes meet him, there’s no mockery.

Yennefer stands from a workstation full of vials and bottles. Without sparing a glance at Geralt, she walks right past the witcher.

“Oh, bardling,” she says, “what have you gotten yourself into?”

It takes a brave man to not cower under her knowing gaze, and Jaskier is far from one. He wishes to hide in the setting sun and the darkening room, his feet quiet on the wooden floor and lips sealed. Without a voice, Jaskier is left with no presence anyway.

Pulling Yennefer away, Geralt must be explaining the situation. Once in a while, they will both turn their heads at Jaskier with a pinched look, an almost identical one. Paying attention to the conversation becomes difficult as exhaustion hits Jaskier at full force. The blood loss from the makes him dizzy after traveling on horse, his bones aching from all the jostling. Jaskier sinks into a soft armchair and lets low grumbling witcher baritone and Yennefer’s silvery voice wash over him. The sorceress could make a singer in another life, he muses. A great one, even. Not that he’ll ever admit it to her face, but a bard should recognize talent anywhere.

When Jaskeir is shaken awake by the shoulder, the sky is pitch dark and the tiny cottage is lit by a single candle. It gives out way more light than it should, illuminating everything in sight. Witchcraft will never stop giving Jaskier the creeps.

Geralt is nowhere to be found, and Yennefer looks down at him in pity.

“Come on.” She sounds even gentle; perhaps Jaskier is dying from these broken bones, he muses inwardly. “Do you want it fixed or not?”

Jaskier sits up against soft cushions while Yennefer gathers her herbs and medicine. A cup is shoved before his face and he barely manages to catch it with his hands heavily wrapped, and the content is the most disgusting thing he’s ever tasted.

Shuddering, Jaskier lets loose of his lips just for the momentary satisfaction of revenge. “You are vile, witch.”

Yennefer’s hands stop mid-air right before grabbing another bottle. Sharply, she turns around to observe Jaskier closely, her expression stone-cold, raven hair falling to frame her face elegantly. Jaskier swallows hard.

“Gods, you are the ugliest person I’ve laid eyes on.” Stopping seems an unlikely task right now. Jaskier feels horror sinking into his very core as the warm light gleams in violet eyes. “Your eyes are the most dreadful, and then there’s your voice. Utterly uninspiring. You’d make the most terrible singer if given the chance.”

Seconds tickle by, and Jaskeir expects to be turned into a toad on the spot. It seems Geralt has miscalculated. Bringing Jaskier here will solve his problem once and for all, because he’ll never play the lute again if the rest of his life will be spent on a lilypad. Jaskier feels heat draining from his cheeks, but for the second time, Yennefer surprises him.

The corners of her mouth turn upwards as she casts a silent spell with her fingers. Eyebrows raised, she asks without heat, “more comments for me?”

With a huff, Jaskeir launches again. “Has the great Yennefer of Vengerburg gone soft? I’d imagine with the amount of broken hearts you left in your wake, you would have remade yours with stone.” There’s a sizzle in the air, like magic appearing and fading at the same time, but Jaskier ignores it. “Now what? Not even one insult for me? After I called you the most beautiful person on—” Jaskier snaps his mouth shut, and feels for his tongue.

He’s free.

“Oh,” he lets out the longest exhale, and immediately, “shit.”

Jaskier watches in horror as a smile spreads across Yennefer’s face, the smugness unmasked in the way her arms crossed before her chest. Oh, the price he’d pay just for the ground to swallow him whole right now.

“The most what?”

Jaskier stares at the empty cup in his lap, and then back up at Yennefer.

“You—” he splutters. “Of course.”

“The fae curses come in all shapes and forms. This one was particularly whimsical.” Yennefer leans against her workstation, putting down two corked vials on the table. “Your wrists are bad, but not unsalvageable. Drink these in seven days and they’ll be fine.”

“I thought you could do magic.”

“You might have time to nurse a broken heart, but the rest of us don’t have the luxury. There’s a war. It costs magic.”

Yennefer turns away, and Jaskier looks at her—really looks at her for the first time since stepping into this town. There’s a weariness in the way she carries herself and the self-soothing gesture of pressing her palm on her stomach from time to time. Her make-up is immaculate as ever, but the droop of her lashes speaks of a haunting experience.

“Are you okay?” Jaskier clears his throat, legs tense and ready to go to her, but thinks better of it.

Violet eyes meet him sharply. “And you’re calling me soft?”

Jaskier huffs, almost offended. “You just lifted a fae curse for me out of the goodness of your will. I’d say that’s a reasonable accusation. I … I realize I haven’t said it. Thank you, Yennefer. It was kind of you. Despite what I may have said a few years ago in a drunken fit, I’d hate it if the war claimed you too.”

Remembering that night has Jaskier cringing, but Yennefer only lets out a dry laugh. After all, she did get him back on a few hours later, by tripping him on stage with the wave of a hand. Geralt was never amused by their petty squabbles.

“You are never what I expect you to be, Jaskier.”

“Did you think me incapable of a little gratitude?”

“I thought you incapable of many things.”

“Such as?”

Yennefer straightens her back, the soft curve of her lips fading. “Such as hurting Geralt.”

Shame washes over Jaskeir anew, and he winces. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Jaskier has always been aware that the mountain was not just an ending to his world, but one for the fated romance between Geralt and Yennefer as well. And yet, no matter how angry at the djinn wish, Yennefer still sounds fiercely protective of Geralt.

“I see this is where you turn me into a toad.”

Yennefer taps the vials absently, eyeing at Jaskier’s broken body. “Somehow I feel like you’re punished enough.”

She says that as if Jaskier’s physical wounds are anything compared to how deeply he must have hurt Geralt. The absence of him takes up all the space between Jaskier’s ribcage, and the grief is almost crushing. He sniffles, his nose sore and throat tight.

“You told him?” Jaskier asks, voice small. He doesn’t know which is worse, Geralt leaving believing those words were genuinely Jaskier’s, or him learning about the curse and then choosing to go. A liar, Geralt once called him with affection. Did he anticipate Jaskier would be lying to him too?

He’d hate either answer from Yennefer, but she doesn’t give one. Instead, her tone gentles, “did he realize?”

Jaskier snaps his head up with a crease between his brows. “What?”

“When you were cursed and bleeding, did he realize those lies weren’t yours?”

Jaskier sags with sorrow.

“You know the answer.”

Yennefer moves around the table and sits behind it, the magic candle obscuring her expression. There could be a hint of regret, but Jaskier doesn’t dare to assume.

“He didn’t recognize the looks of a man with his choices taken.”

Jaskier shakes his head like a rattle. “It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t have known.”

“Because Geralt was ready to believe your lies from the start,” she sighs. “As if you could ever utter those words. As if someone might want to stay with him simply because they wish to.”

No, his heart was not the only one that broke on top of the mountain.

“Do you think,” Jaskier tries, “if he told you about—”

“It’s too late for us,” she waves him off, readying parchment and a quill. “I don’t bother myself with could-have-beens, and neither should him, but.”

The implication hangs in the air.

Jaskier gets up, observing Yennefer’s long, meaningful look, and chuckles tightly. “You truly have gone soft, witch.”

“Don’t come to me dying again, bardling. A third time, I might just let you.”

“No, you won’t.”

Thanking Yennefer again is easy, so is the jab she returns, but finding Geralt becomes the only thing on Jaskier’s mind, so much so that he’s only doubling back after rushing out the door.

“Almost forgot.” He pockets the potions, albeit clumsily. “And where…?”

“There’s only one way out of town. He left not long ago.” Yennefer has begun writing a letter, not even looking up.

“Perfect.”

“I’m serious about the dying.”

Jaskier suppresses the urge to give her a kiss as they bid a final goodbye, and runs out into the night.

It’s not too late for them.

He just needs to make it right. Apologize, explain… Anything that can convince Geralt that he never meant those words, that he’s never seen Geralt as anything but the truest friend, that he’s loved, completely and unreservedly.

It dawns on Jaskier that in the span of only a few days, his and Geralt’s roles have reversed.

A big thanks to Beginte on AO3 for pointing out the parallel between Jaskier and Geralt. Now they've switched roles and Jaskier is the one who said words he didn't mean and desperately wants to apologize.

Ah, the final chapter, here I come. Although I have no timeframe for my writing these days; school is starting to get busy and I am whelmed by the amount of paperwork involved in moving to a new country. Be patient with me, as I am with the local banking efficiency.

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod @kuripon @holymotherwolf

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #lying spell #reverse tropes #lying potion #hurt jaskier #blood and injury #jaskier #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerburg #cursed jaskier #angst #(not for long)

62 notes · View notes

hlizr50 · 3 years

Text

Unveiled

Spoilers for From Blood and Ash

Poppy is unveiled to her new guard. Alternate POV.

Read on AO3

Everything had gone according to plan.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. But the end goal had been accomplished.

Swift booted footsteps echoed down the hall as Casteel and his “commander” made their way to the Duke’s office. Jansen had been explaining how the meeting would proceed; the Maiden would be escorted in, Duke Teerman would explain the need for a new guard with the Rite coming so soon, some prattle about why they chose Hawke Flynn to be that guard, the Maiden’s unveiling, and the fealty oath…

He would see her. Finally. No ridiculous veil, no mask. He would see the puzzle complete, how the eyes as green as spring, the full pink lips, the soft creamy skin all fit together. He was sure she would be beautiful, if what he had seen and touched and tasted were any indication. He had a goal in mind, to be sure. But she had intrigued him. He wanted to see and know more of her.

And he always got what he wanted.

“Hawke. Are you listening?”

He turned his amber gaze on Jansen. “I’m sorry?”

“Do you remember the oath?”

“Of course,” Casteel rolled his eyes before reciting. “’With my sword and my life, I vow to keep you safe Maiden, the Chosen. From this moment to the last moment, I am yours.’ Quite melodramatic if you ask me.”

“Keep your voice down,” the commander growled softly. “You are a dedicated guard of Solis swearing fealty to the future of the kingdom, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Casteel sneered. “I haven’t forgotten. And it would do you well to remember who is leading who, Commander.”

“Of course. My apologies.”

The prince knew that Commander Jansen was on a very precarious ledge. Being a Descenter in the heart of Masadonia was dangerous in the best of times. In a position of power, Jansen could pull a lot of strings and make a lot of things happen. But he had a hand in a number of plots, and if just one person was found out or turned against him… his own demise would be the least of the consequences. It could be catastrophic to the schemes they had put in motion years ago and set back the resurrection of Atlantia for literal decades.

The arrived before a heavy wooden door flanked by two of the Duke’s personal guard. Jansen greeted them by name and Casteel gave each a nod. Then they pulled the door out, opening up the room to the pair. This was the beginning of the end.

So it hadn’t gone completely to plan. The prince knew he needed to get close to the Maiden, so he could steal her away right from under the thumb of the Ascended. That had meant an opening needed to come available for one of her personal guards – it wouldn’t do to just work in the castle. Jericho had been tasked with taking out her guard during her almost-daily evening walks.

And he had done it.

But then he’d tried to go ahead and take the Maiden, and that had gotten him into trouble. He hadn’t known she would be armed and dangerous, and when you cross a wolven with pointy things it’s bound to get a little messy.

And Jericho wasn’t known for being calm, cool and collected on a good day.

The Maiden had gotten in a few good strikes, but she had received quite the blow as well. He’d seen the angry swelling around her mouth and jaw at Rylan’s funeral. He only imagined the bruising extended far under the veil, over her cheek and temple.

That was unacceptable.

He hadn’t enjoyed cutting off Jericho’s hand. But he would not allow Penellaphe to be hurt. And to teach a lesson you had to be firm. Unyielding. Deadly, if warranted, and definitely a bit unhinged. Just to keep everyone vigilant.

“Commander Jansen,” Dorian Teerman greeted them. “And you must be Flynn.”

“Your Grace.” Casteel bowed to the Duke, something it almost physically hurt him to do. But he was playing a part, and he could spend more time later creating enticing scenarios in which he destroyed Teerman in any number of ways. “I have summoned the Maiden. She and her guard should be here shortly.”

The Duke hadn’t bothered to introduce his wife, Duchess Jacinda Teerman. Casteel wondered if he even acknowledged her existence much of the time. He didn’t know much about Duke Teerman, but he seemed self-absorbed, self-righteous, and cruel, which was not much different than any of the Ascended he had encountered. Their unyielding refusal to “petition the Gods” so the Tulis family could keep their third son, when their first two had already died so young, was only further proof of their evil. Of course, those first two hadn’t been lost to a “blood disease”, but to the Ascended’s bloodlust – they had been fed upon until there was nothing left. And yet the Duke and Duchess would only insist on taking the third as well. Had it been one of them who had bled those poor children dry? It made his stomach twist to stand with Jansen, making small talk with the pale blonde Duchess as they waited for the meeting to start.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open again. And there she was.

This was how he had expected to meet the Maiden. Veiled, so he could only see her lips and chin. Hair pulled back so it was not visible beneath the veil, either. That was a shame. Her hair had unlocked something in him that night at the Red Pearl. It had been so unexpected. And then there was the ridiculous, frilly, white lace and pleats of a dress that covered everything from her neck to her wrists to her ankles. Surely a garment such as that was an affront to the Gods, sleeping though they were. This was the Maiden, pure and docile and silent. It was a stark contrast to the woman who had snuck into his room not so long ago. In a brothel, no less.

“Please. Close the door Vikter,” the Duke nodded as he sat behind the black painted desk. Casteel looked toward the older guard with the sandy blond hair as he pulled the doors closed. He knew more about Vikter than he should for his supposed station, but what was most important was his closeness with the Maiden. Penellaphe. He would need to be thorough in his dedication to win over the seasoned soldier.

“Thank you.” Teerman nodded. “Please, sit, Penellaphe.”

He watched the Maiden as she lowered herself to the bench. Gods he hated that dress. It was such a pity to hide the curves that he knew were underneath. It was an effort to keep himself from smirking. If only those in this chamber knew what she had been up to.

“I hope you’re feeling well, Penellaphe,” the Duchess spoke, a sickeningly sweet voice that felt practiced and false. The veiled Maiden nodded. “I’m relieved to hear that. I was worried that attending the city council so soon after your attack would be too much.” Casteel had watched the Maiden through the entirety of the meeting, trying to decipher anything from the full lips and curve of jaw that he and the rest of the world were allowed to see. Had he seen her skin flush while the Tulis family begged for their son’s life? What had she been thinking as her keepers were tearing yet another family apart?

“What happened in the garden is why we’re all here.” The Duke’s voice was cold. “With the death of… what was his name? The guard?” It made the prince angrier than it should, that this beast could not even be bothered to know the name of the man who had given his life to protect their precious Maiden.

“Rylan Kiel, your Grace,” Vikter answered.

“Ah yes, Ryan. With Ryan’s death you are down one guard… Again. Two guards lost in one year. I hope this isn’t becoming a habit.” What that a joke? Was he trying to imply that this girl could have stopped it? Casteel had to contain a sneer. The guards would continue to fall, if it meant getting his brother back and burning Solis to the ground. Nobody would stop him – not the Maiden, not the Teermans, not Vikter, not the Blood Queen herself. “Anyway, with the upcoming Rite, and as you draw closer to your Ascension, Vikter cannot be expected to be the only one keeping a close watch on you. We need to replace Ryan, which - as I’m sure you realize now - explains why Commander Jansen and guard Flynn are here. Guard Flynn will take Ryan’s place effective immediately.”

“I’m sure this is surprising, as he is new to our city and quite young for a member of the Royal Guard. There are several Rise guards in line to be promoted, and bringing on Hawke is no slight to them. But the Commander has assured us that Hawke is better suited to this task.”

And so the diatribe began about why he was just so good at what he did that he was the next natural choice. Fresh eyes to see new threats. An impeccable record on the Rise and experience beyond it, which would naturally come in handy if the Queen summoned the Maiden earlier than anticipated for her Ascension. It could happen. Teerman Castle had been compromised more than once in the last week. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Queen Ileana determined that they were no longer capable of keeping the Maiden safe here in Masadonia.

If only they knew.

If only they knew that his sense of hearing and smell made him aware of an enemy’s presence long before the enemy knew he was there. If only they knew how much he had to dumb himself down to appear to be a mortal man, counting seconds so he wouldn’t move too fast or relaxing his muscles so he wouldn’t seem too strong. If only they knew that their Commander was a Descenter himself and was planting Prince Casteel himself – the Dark One – into the role of Royal Guard Hawke Flynn. If only they knew that today they were delivering the Maiden into the hands of the most dangerous creature in their nightmares.

“The Descenters and the Dark One are not the only things to fear out there, as you know,” the Duchess had been speaking. Gods they were making it terribly difficult not to laugh. They were so ignorant. The pale blonde Ascended turned to Casteel now. “As a member of the Maiden’s personal royal guard, it is likely that a situation may occur where you will see her unveiled. It can be distracting seeing someone’s face for the first time, especially a Chosen, and that could interfere with your ability to protect her. That is why the Gods allow this breach.”

“Commander Jansen, if you will please step outside,” the Duke gestured toward the door and Jansen took his leave. Casteel stood alone, now, looking toward the veiled young woman now standing before him. Oh, had he been looking forward to this.

“You are about to bear witness to what only a select few have seen: an unveiled Maiden. Penellaphe, please reveal yourself.”

She was too still, and Casteel could tell that her breathing was shallow. What could she be thinking? He was sure that part of her was anxious that she’d be found out.

“Penellaphe. We do not have all day,” the Duke cut out and his wife tried to soothe him.

“Give her a moment, Dorian. You know why she hesitates. We have time.”

Why did she hesitate? Of course, she was concerned about being recognized, but he couldn’t imagine the Duchess would know that. And why did the Duke have that glib smile plastered on his face? Casteel returned his gaze to Penellaphe as her lady’s maid assisted with the chains on the headdress before it fell from her head.

Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were dark as her gaze remained pinned on the Duke. He could only see the right side of her face as she glared at Teerman and from the corner of his eye he could see the Duke’s expression fall into icy stone. Then she took a breath and turned to face Casteel, lifting her chin slightly.

Gods. She was stunning.

Those lips, her jaw, those eyes as green as Atlantian spring. He was ready for those things, had seen them that night at the Red Pearl. He’d known even then that she was beautiful, and now with her stony gaze it was only confirmed. And then there were the scars. Two scars tracked down from her temple, one over her cheek and toward her nose and one down through her eyebrow. Where had those come from? Who or what had done that to her? He gazed at her, taking in every detail of her face before meeting her eyes. Those eyes. They were dark and stormy, betraying the lack of emotion on her face. It was as if she were steeling herself, although he didn’t know what against.

“She’s truly unique, isn’t she?” She flinched as the Duke spoke again. “Half of her face is a masterpiece, the other half a nightmare.”

That bastard. Her arms tremored slightly, and Casteel realized what she had been hardening herself to feel. He knew that this moment, where he could make Penellaphe feel small, was why the Duke had that slimy smile upon his face. Appearance was a fickle thing, and beauty and perfection were highly touted by the Ascended. The Maiden, chosen but scarred, was being raised and educated under the thumb of a man who likely took every opportunity he could to tell her what a shame it was that her face could never be pleasing to any of them. She was a pawn, a possession to them. But he saw her here, just as he had seen her in the Red Pearl. She was a person, with feelings and desires and insecurities. She was Penellaphe.

He made an oath to himself that he would only treat her as such.

“Both halves are as beautiful as the whole,” he stepped forward then, wishing he could see the Duke’s face when he said it. Her sharp intake of breath made him want to smile for her. She hadn’t been expecting that, and that was the nightmare – that she was not aware how truly lovely she was.

He gave a shallow bow and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. “With my sword and with my life, I vow to keep you safe, Penellaphe. From this moment until the last moment I am yours.” Bowing to Duke Teerman had been torturous, but bowing before her was almost natural. So was swearing his fealty to her. The ease with which he did so kindled something inside of him. He had come here to play a part and set into motion the resurgence of Atlantia, and that was exactly what he was doing. But those emerald eyes, lush red lips, and two pink scars were already threatening to unravel him.

And he wasn’t so sure that he was going to fight it.

#fbaa #fbaa fanfic #from blood and ash #poppy balfour #hawke flynn #casteel da'neer #alternate pov #ao3 #fanfiction

18 notes · View notes

kitkatopinions · 3 years

Note

Leave it to RT to make me hate plot points I wanted. I wanted Winter to be the Winter Maiden, I wanted Salem to win, I wanted Whitley to not be treated like the worst person ever, I wanted Emerald to be a redeemable character. All that just flopped.

Hard agree on... Literally all of that. XD

I also wanted Winter to be the Winter Maiden (and before volume seven, I’d theorized that maybe she already was one,) but having the powers go to Penny, then get pulled away due to CRWBY making a contrived story and forcing her totally unnecessary death, making her give the powers to Winter, in order to drive home the message that Ironwood is one hundred percent bad and now that Winter isn’t following his orders, she can have the powers... I’d have rather Winter didn’t get the powers at all. They could’ve kept Penny alive and had Cinder steal half the powers like she had with Amber. They could’ve had Jaune or Pietro accidentally be the last thing Penny thinks of, and therefore the powers go who knows where. Winter looks great as the Winter Maiden, but because CRWBY chose to make everything needlessly complicated, the whole situation was more or less pointless, and now I wish Winter hadn’t ever been slotted to receive the powers in the first place.

I wanted the villains to have a win, but I wanted the protagonists to be present in the real world long enough to start feeling the effects and face consequences, and I wanted it to be because of Cinder learning and changing too. I was actually impressed and excited because they were finally doing something somewhat interesting with Cinder and displaying that when the villains learn and work together, they actually outmatch the heroes, and Ruby and the others need to learn and grow to compensate. But then, they took back any growth with Cinder and they successfully separated all our main characters (and Jaune, for some reason) from the world of Remnant, possibly for a whole volume so they can’t feel the effects. And not only that, but now Salem is in a much worse position and... Really doesn’t seem like a threat, currently. She has only three people left who seem like they’re even on her side, and one of them has proven herself a brat who always puts her own agenda first, but never gets killed for her actions because I guess Salem plays favorites, and one of the other ones (Mercury) might just leave her too. It makes her seem non-threatening, it makes Salem seem weak, like her people are just self-destructing themselves and the heroes happen to get caught in the crossfires here and there. I barely even consider it a win for the villains since Cinder took out Watts, the best villain on Salem’s side, and then betrayed Neo. Also, can I point out that out of the four deaths we got (which I literally said I wanted at least four deaths omg,) only one of them was a hero. One was more or less Ironwood’s henchman who then had a ‘we’re friends, sacrifice himself for his friends’ ending that felt like it didn’t matter because he was the most non-character member of an underdeveloped group. Another was Watts - who became one of the most enjoyable characters of season seven and eight only to be murdered by Cinder in his prime. Bad choice imo. Another was Ironwood, presumably, after his character was destroyed, he still managed to have a sympathetic death, but it’s wholly unsatisfying for me because I’m still sitting here going “What was the point?” And they forced him into a villain role too. And then, counting earlier deaths, Hazel, another villain. Only Penny was someone I feel like we were supposed to even care about enough to be sad about her death.

I wanted Whitley to be treated like he wasn’t the worst person ever and made this big post about how I’d be happy with anything so long as he got a bigger role. And to be fair, Whitley was one of my favorite parts of the season. I didn’t mind his interactions with Weiss. What I minded was how quickly they acted like things were completely resolved, how they never really addressed Weiss’s own problems and her flaws in their relationship, having Willow act like a caring, doting mother out of nowhere with Whitley just smilingly accepting it, having Winter never express an ounce of care or much recognition of Whitley, having Whitley and Weiss now separated, so there isn’t a chance for them having more interactions at least for now and maybe the next whole volume. It’s not that I wish Whitley hadn’t been involved, though, so... I guess there’s that. Whitley’s plot was severely lacking, but not enough for me to wish they’d left him out of things.

And then, as for Emerald, you’re right, I really wanted a redemption arc for her. But I’m entirely unsatisfied with how rushed it is, with how everyone can just laugh with her and trust her, with how they thought a little bit of groundwork was just enough to convince everyone she’s a good guy now and that the heroes should just... believe in her. They let it go without consequence like her former, terrible actions didn’t even matter and didn’t really need to be worked through or addressed. Our good guys have stupid little teasing moments and laugh about Emerald saying something about being on their side when she’d been attacking Penny with Cinder mere episodes ago...It’s so weird. CRWBY’s lack of real growth and evidence of change in Emerald makes her seem like a weak character and make our heroes look really stupid and reckless. I almost expect Emerald to drop them with no warning and go run off to find Mercury after maybe severely wounding one of the heroes because there’s no way she suddenly changed that much, except that CRWBY has such a bad track record when it comes to making jumps with their characters and their dynamics without providing real growth. It’s so unsatisfying that it’s making me dread what they’re going to do with her in Vacuo. I totally wish she was still a villain, if only so they could give her organic growth and a more convincing arc.

But yeah, RWBY volume 8 really is just the season of really good concepts that just aren’t executed very well, or walked back on, or too caught up in plot points I already didn’t like. Some of it’s my own personal likes and dislikes, some of it I feel I can safely deem just kind of poorly done. That’s not to say there’s nothing to like about Volume 8 - Like I said, some of the Whitley stuff was good, and there were other good things too - but on the general whole, Volume 8 was just a disappointment to me.

#rwde #rwby bashing #rwby hate #anti rwby #anti-rwby #anti crwby #crwby bashing #rwby criticism

36 notes · View notes

cherubcow · 3 years

Text

“Invincible”, Season 1 (2021) Review

Somehow both very cool and very fucking stupid :D

About Created and written primarily by Robert Kirkman (principle writer for The Walking Dead comic and TV show), this Young Adult cartoon basically synthesizes a number of comic book characters (e.g., Superman, Batman, Green Lantern, Hellboy, Wonder Woman, Gambit) and tries to balance their heroism with cynical twists and dark realities. It's an exercise like Brightburn (2019) in that it mirrors existing comic writing all too closely in order to make violent twists. The cool stuff arrives pretty much immediately. You can tell right away that the physics have some level of realism, and it quickly gets serious because of this. The easy comparison would be to The Boys (also by Amazon, also about violent heroes, and also very well-produced). So, if you like The Boys (2019–), you'll probably like Invincible only a little less.

(( Some spoilers but nothing too specific ))

Wrong Focus But, the stupid stuff comes from the same error that the Kick-Ass movie (2010) made: it focuses on the wrong person(s). In Kick-Ass, the error was focusing on.. well.. "Kick-Ass", an irredeemable loser and waste of screen time. Invincible makes the same mistake, focusing on.. well.. "Invincible", a (so far) irredeemable loser and waste of screen time. So, despite its virtues, this show cannot escape that it made the decision to go for the Young Adult viewing demographic. It reminds me of Alita: Battle Angel (2019) in that way too: some very cool adult concepts ruined by the dramatic devices of unrepentant teenage stupidity and irrelevance. I didn't even like that stuff when I was a teenager, though Jordan Catalano gets a pass.

Main Cast and Characters The supporting characters were also very stupid. The most annoying was definitely Amber Bennett (voiced by the otherwise cool Zazie Beetz from Deadpool 2 (2018) and Joker (2019)),

who is supposed to be attractive somehow to Mark Grayson ("Invincible", voiced by Steven Yeun, who played Glenn on The Walking Dead)

despite the fact that she constantly judges him, fails to understand him, often fails to give him any kind of benefit of the doubt, and continues to scowl at him and be hurtful towards him even when she has information that should change her outlook towards him. And because she is part of the love triangle shared between herself, Invincible/Mark, and "Atom Eve"/Samantha (voiced by the awesome Gillian Jacobs from Community (2009–2014)),

audiences simply have to bear with it that Amber's annoying character will be present and wasting time until Mark can realize that Amber is in fact toxic and that Eve actually understands him and can improve him in more positive directions. That love triangle should have been a 20-minute distraction, but I'm guessing that it will eat up a season or two more, especially if the writers become cowardly and fail to change things for fear of messing up a perceived "winning" formula. In my ideal story line, they would skip ahead 10 years, drop the teen drama, the love triangle, and the stupid jokes and have Invincible and Eve paired in defense of Earth, with the main tension being from their worry that the other would be horribly gored in front of them during lethal fights against cosmic enemies ;)

Aside, I am aware of Amber’s motivation for being a bad person, I just think her justification is not based in understanding, empathy, and a regard for the gravity of Invincible’s situation. In a strict political sense, Invincible should not commit a lie of omission by keeping her in the dark about his identity — even if for the “noble lie” reason of protecting her — but in a real sense, he is a fucking teenager who just developed his super powers. For her to pretend that he should reveal his entire identity to her — a potentially transformative and even dangerous decision — after a few months of teenage romance paints an absurd portrait of her mind. It does, however, align her with Omni-Man, because where Omni-Man forces Invincible to become an adult in the fighting sense (pushing with full force early on), Amber forces Invincible to become an emotional adult by getting him to understand that toxic people such as herself need to be given boundaries — and he needs to learn to clearly delineate and communicate his real desires. By knowing that he does not want Amber, people who regiment his free time, or people who do not suit him, for instance, he can realize why Eve was an obvious decision: Eve understands, can make time when they have time, and will let him find his decisions. Part of a coming-of-age story tends to be realizing what one actually wants, and Invincible’s hesitation in telling Amber his identity shows that he does not truly want her. This separates Invincible from, say, Spider-Man, who avoided telling Mary Jane his identity not because he did not want her but because he wanted at all costs to protect her.

The next most annoying character has to be Debbie Grayson (voiced by TV-cancer Sandra Oh and who luckily was not animated to look like the real Sandra Oh and who should have been voiced instead by Bobby Lee due to Lee's successful MadTV parody of Sandra Oh).

Debbie basically fills the role of Skyler in Breaking Bad, except that Debbie's character tends to be slightly more understanding before her inevitable and toxic Skyler-resentment and undermining behavior. Despite having an 8-episode arc of change, Debbie's character flips too quickly and lacks the empathy and Omni-Man motive-justifying that would make her interesting (the comic's development may vary). For instance, if she refused to believe that Omni-Man meant his own words, that would make her empathetic and perhaps virtuous even if misled, but instead she dropped their "20 years" of understanding after viewing Omni-Man in action, which makes her appear shallow, easily manipulated, and unsympathetic. That was a definite "Young Adult" genre move because it shows immaturity by the writers to break apart a bond of 20 years so quickly. Mediocre teens might accept such a fissure because their lives have not yet seen or may not comprehend that level of time, but adults know that even long-standing and problematic relationships (which, beyond the lie, Omni-Man's and Debbie's was not shown to be) take a lot of time to break — even with lies exposed.

Omni-Man The biggest show strength for me was of course Omni-Man, who in a success of casting was voiced by J.K. Simmons in a kind of reprisal of Simmons' role as Fletcher from Whiplash (2014).

The Fletcher/Omni-Man parallel shows through their being incredibly harsh but extremely disciplined and principled, forcing people to become beyond even their own ideal selves (this via Omni-Man's tough-love teaching of Invincible — comically, Omni-Man was actually psychologically easier on Invincible than Fletcher was on Whiplash's Andrew character). Despite the show's attempts to villainize Omni-Man, he, like Fletcher and also like Breaking Bad's Walter White, becomes progressively more awesome, eventually representing a Spartan will, an unconquerable drive, and a realistic and martial understanding of a hero's role.

To the show's credit, while it wrote Omni-Man to be outright genocidal and from a culture of eugenicists (again, Spartan), they could not help but admire him and his "violence" and "naked force" (for a Starship Troopers reference), giving him a path to redemption. That redemption comes in part because — despite the show's attempt to be often realistic and violent — its decision to be directed at young adults via dumb jokes, petty relationship drama, the characters’ reckless lack of anonymity and security in their neighborhood (loudly taking off and landing right at the doorstep), and light indy music also made the portrayed violence far less literal. With a less literal violence, the real statement becomes not that Omni-Man really did kill so many people (though he certainly did kill those people within the show's plot) but that he was symbolically capable of terrible violence but could be reformed for good. That's the shortcoming with putting violence under demographic limitations. If it's a PG-13 Godzilla knocking down cities, the deaths in the many fallen skyscrapers don't matter so much (the audience will even forgive Godzilla for mass death if it happens mostly in removed spectacle), whereas if it's Cormac McCarthy envisioning a very realistic fiction, every death rides the edge of true trauma.

By showing light between the real and the symbolic, it is much easier to identify and agree with Omni-Man. For instance, when Robot (voiced by Zachary Quinto of Heroes and the newer Star Trek movies)

shows too much empathy for the revealed weakness of "Monster Girl" (voiced by Grey Griffin), the audience may have thought, "Pathetic," even before Omni-Man himself said it. And this because Omni-Man knows that true and powerful enemies (including himself) will not hesitate to use ultra-violence against these avenues of weakness. "Invincible" can make his Spider-Man quips while in lethal battles, but he does so while riding the edge of death — something that Omni-Man has to teach Invincible by riding him to the brink of his own.

Other Cast/Characters and Amazon's Hidden Budget It was impressive how many big-name actors were thrown into this — a true hemorrhage of producer funding. Amazon has so far hidden the budget numbers, perhaps because they don't want people to know that the show (like many of its shows) represents a kind of loss-leader to jump-start its entertainment brand.

Aside from those already mentioned, the show borrows a number of actors from The Walking Dead (WD), including.. • Chad L. Coleman ("Martian Man"; "Tyreese" on WD),

• Khary Payton ("Black Samson"; "Ezekiel" on WD),

• Ross Marquand (several characters; "Aaron" on WD)

• Lauren Cohan ("War Woman"; "Maggie" on WD)

• Michael Cudlitz ("Red Rush"; "Abraham" on WD)

• Lennie James ("Darkwing"; "Morgan" on WD)

• Sonequa Martin-Green ("Green Ghost"; "Sasha" on WD)

There were also connections to Rick and Morty and Community, not just with Gillian Jacobs but also with... • Justin Roiland ("Doug Cheston"), who voices both Rick and Morty in Rick and Morty,

• Jason Mantzoukas ("Rex"),

• Walton Goggins ("Cecil"),

• Chris Diamantopoulos (several characters),

• Clancy Brown ("Damien Darkblood"),

• Kevin Michael Richardson ("Mauler Twins"), and

• Ryan Ridley (writing)

That's a lot of overlap. They even had Michael Dorn from Star Trek: TNG (1987–1994) (there he played Worf) and Reginald VelJohnson from Family Matters (1989–1998) and Die Hard (1988), and even Mark Hamill. Pretty much everyone in the voice cast was significant and known. Maybe Amazon got a discount for COVID since the actors could all do voice-work from home? ;)

Overall Bad that it was for the Young Adult target demo but good for the infrequent adult themes and ultra-violence. Very high production value and a good watch for those who like dark superhero stories. I have heard that the comic gets progressively darker, which fits for Robert Kirkman, so it will likely be worth keeping up with this show.

#invincible #tv review #robert kirkman #invincible tv series #invincible tv show

23 notes · View notes

sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

Text

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 2.7k

Warnings: swearing, angst, drunk, motion of death

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 2 Part 4

Part 3

In less than ten minutes, we had pulled up to Liam's house. Liam paid for the taxi too. I kind of argued this time, but he pointed out he asked me to his house. I didn't get too stubborn about it.

Liam was living in a four-story terrace house, recently renovated by the looks of it. It was painted white with black wrought iron lacework, and it was beautiful. The front door and windows were painted black. It appeared to be the twin of the house that shared its wall.

We entered through the dining room, and I realised it was actually the two houses renovated together. The inside was modern with original heritage touches. The floors were light timber, and the walls were white. The ceilings had plaster and cornice so beautifully ornate that restoration must have taken ages. The room had an imposing black marble fireplace and a deep brown, almost black wooden dining table set on a grey shag rug in the room's centre. A huge abstract painting of bright pinks, greens and grey hung on the wall.

"Wow, this must have cost a mint!" I quickly covered my mouth. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

"It's ok. I was pleasantly surprised by the house too. The studio got the house for me I...." Liam was interrupted by a massive dog bounding into the room.

Liam got down and roughhoused with the dog for a bit. Wow, he was a monster! I'd seen a picture of Cole before that "Will" had sent me, but I wasn't quite prepared for how big he was. He was almost completely black with some brown above his eyes and ears. His paws were brown too, and his belly was grey. He wasn't any particular breed, apparently a rescue dog. I thought of my bull terrier cross cattle dog at home. This dog would eat him for breakfast, and Perrin wasn't small.

Cole's pink tongue lolled, and he panted as Liam moved from side to side. Cole imitated Liam's actions jumping about. He barked a couple of times as he got excited by the play. The noise reverberated through the quiet house.

"Shhh, Cole, people are sleeping." Liam softly admonished. Then his voice became stern. "Sit," he ordered before patting him. Liam looked at me and said, "Lana, this is Cole. Cole, Lana."

"Hi, Cole. You're much bigger in person." I could hear the slight tremor in my voice. Liam must have sensed I was nervous and came over to stand near me. Cole padded over and sniffed at me. Gingerly, I put my hand by my side and let him approach me. Cole nuzzled my hand, and I gave him a pat on the side of his neck. I let out a sigh of relief.

"I was worried he wouldn't like me. I love dogs but always get nervous around new ones." Liam put his head to the side, asking a silent question. "I had a dingo go me one time, and I've never really gotten over it." I squatted down and gave Cole more pats. "I think this guy is ok, though."

"Yeah, he's a good boy. How is Perrin, by the way?"

"He's ok." I sighed, "he's just old. The poor little guy can't get onto my bed anymore and sleeps in my lounge room now. I kinda miss it, but I have slept a bit better."

Liam gave Cole some more pats and told him to go sit. "Come on. I'll make you a tea or coffee if you'd like." I agreed a coffee would be perfect right now. I needed something to sober me up.

I sat at the kitchen bench while Liam made coffees. Cole sat by my stool, and I patted his head while watching Liam. Liam had kicked off his shoes and was walking around in his bare feet. It was amazing to see him so much more relaxed here than while we were out. He really did appear to enjoy being at home.

As Liam made our coffee, he moved with a grace that surprised me. His movements seemed economical and rigid but hinted at the power beneath them. He seemed coiled and ready to explode at any moment. It was like he was dancing the pasodoble, his body moving to an invisible beat. Images of Strictly Ballroom came into my mind, and I found myself humming Love is in the Air. I was drunker than I thought.

When Liam was done, he led me over to his large L shaped lounge, and I sat. Liam flopped down next to me, casually laying back and popped his feet up on the coffee table. Cole sat on a mat that was clearly his.

I sipped my coffee, not knowing what else to do. Suddenly the quiet between Liam and I felt awkward.

Liam and I spoke at the same time, "What.." "So..."

We both laughed. Liam indicated I should proceed. "Well, I was going to ask what brought you out to Sydney, for real, not the Will answer."

"A new project. I'm going to be filming a television show." Liam proceeded to tell me about his project, working with some people from Netflix on a fantasy/sci-fi series adaptation. He was so animated when telling me that it was obvious that he loved his job.

It would be his first television series and was to be more romance heavy than anything he had done in years. Liam explained that he is filming here because the story was written and developed in Australia. "If it works out, I'll probably be based out of Australia for the next few years. I'll go home to England for a few months during breaks, maybe do some small film roles. It's hard with Cole, though, because every trip into Australia means 10 days quarantine for him."

"Oh yeah, and you don't want a Pistol and Boo situation." Liam looked confused, and I explained about Amber Heard and Johnny Depp smuggling their dogs into Australia.

"I thought you said you don't follow celebrity gossip."

"I don't, but that was big news, hilarious really. It was on every bit of media in Australia, and then they had to make this cringe video apology. I almost felt bad for them." Then I yawned, suddenly all the alcohol had lost its buzz, and I was just tired. "The coffee doesn't seem to be doing its job. What time is it?"

Liam looked at his watch, "11.30."

"Yeah, it's late. I should get home. I don't want to turn into a pumpkin." I cringed. Fuck.

"You don't have to go. You could stay here." I raised my eyebrows. "I do have more than one bed if that's what you want." Liam leaned over to me and placed a hand on my cheek, rubbing his thumb against my skin.

I looked at my nearly empty coffee mug. I swirled the dregs around the bottom as if it were tea leaves, and they would tell me what to do. "I don't want to go home yet, but I don't want to go too fast, either."

"That's ok."

I didn't move. I wanted to stay. Ten years ago, I would have stayed, but Andy's face flashed into my thoughts. I knew it was ridiculous. Andy had been gone for over three years now. But every time I even contemplated being with someone, I couldn't stop thinking about him.

Liam was waiting for an answer, but I didn't know what to tell him. 'It's not you, it's me' is such a tired cliche, but sometimes it's true.

"Lana, it's ok. If you want to go home, that's absolutely fine. I'll even call you an Uber."

I felt my eyes sting, and I looked away from Liam. My bloody traitorous tear ducts giving me away. I shouldn't have drunk so much. Alcohol always makes me emotional.

"Fuck." I swore under my breath. I angrily wiped at my eyes, thankful I had used waterproof mascara. My eyeliner was a different story, though, and black streaked my fingers. I asked Liam where his bathroom was, and I got up, only half listening to his directions. I found it quickly. It was only through the doorway into a little enclave with a powder room, stairs and a lift. What kind of bloody house has a lift?

I closed the door and sat on the toilet seat. I knew enough not to try to stop the tears, so I just let them go. Bloody hell, Andy. Why did he fucking have to leave me? Why the fuck did you have to fucking die. Goddammit. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I do this to Andy? I wanted to scream, to punch something, to throw something. I needed another cigarette. Fuck you, Andy. Fuck you. Fuck me. Fuck Liam.

As I always did when I thought of Andy, I remembered the last time I saw him. His sweet face looked down at me as he kissed me goodbye. His deep brown hair fell like a curtain around us, hiding our kiss from the world. Cheekily I had slipped my tongue into his mouth, and he had groaned as he pulled away. He told me to save it for when he got back and would be as quick as he could be. I had thanked him for filling in for me. He winked and said to thank him later. Then he left.

When I was able to, I started to take deep breaths. In through my nose, out through my mouth. I could feel the tightness in my chest slowly ease. Breathing became more comfortable, and the tears stopped. I looked at my hands, and I was able to release the fists I was making. My nails hadn't broken the skin this time, but small red crescents remained etched into my palms.

I waited a few minutes longer to make sure the moment had passed. It wasn't Andy's fault he died, and I knew that. It's also not my fault that I wanted someone to love again. Sleeping with someone other than Andy felt like crossing the Rubicon, no going back.

The fact was there is no going back, no Andy to go back to, even if I wanted. In my head, it still felt like a betrayal. But it wasn't. And Liam wasn't just anybody. He was a guy I had spent weeks talking to, getting to know, and although he looks different, he is still acting as I had expected. I saw a potential future here. Did I really want to let my past ruin it?

I cleared my throat and stood up, preparing myself to see the horror that looked back at me. Ugh, it wasn't great. My eyeliner had given me panda eyes, and the tears had created streaks down my cheeks.

Getting a tissue and blew my nose, and decided there was nothing else for it, I washed my makeup off my face. I avoided washing my eye makeup off though, that was a mess I just didn't have the products for, so I just wiped under my eyes and cleaned it up. I binned my tissues, washed my hands, took a few more deep breaths and prepared myself to face Liam.

I opened the door and walked straight into something solid that made me bounce back into the bathroom like a tennis ball. Hands caught me before I hit the floor, and I found myself in Liam's arms.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" He asked.

"No," I was flustered again. I spent all that time calming down to just be in a state two seconds later. "I just didn't expect you to be outside the door. Jesus, you're like a brick shit house."

Liam didn't laugh. "I was worried about you."

"I'm fine," I lied.

Liam didn't look convinced. He let me go and ran a hand through his hair. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now."

Liam nodded. "I'll get you that Uber." He pulled his phone out.

That's it then. All in all, it wasn't the worst date I'd been on since Andy died. Actually, it was probably the best. Liam, at least, was a guy I was attracted to and didn't appear to be a man child. He seemed to like me, even when I cried over another man. Although I doubt Liam knew that's why I was crying. I had told him I was married before and he had died, but that was only once and a long time ago, and we hadn't discussed it again.

The tears had done their job, and a calmness came over me now. I had said goodbye to Andy, and I was ready to take that last step to move on. That was why I started to date again; to open my heart, I was ready.

I put my hand on Liam's wrist, "if you still want me to, I'd like to stay."

"Are you sure? I probably shouldn't have asked in the first place. I let my other head think for me." Though I laughed at his candid admission, Liam's face was serious. "I'm not joking. I want you, and I didn't think about how you must be feeling. The whole fake profile thing must still be weighing on your mind. And all of the other problems that go along with being with me. You should have more time to think about it."

And my dead husband, let's not forget that. I didn't say that out loud, thank God. "I will have time to think about it. But right now, I want..." Shit. I've gone shy again. Just fucking tell him you want him too! "I mean, can't we just have a bit of a cuddle and a snog?"

Liam's lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile, "a cuddle and a snog?"

I nodded.

Smiling, Liam put his phone back in his pocket. "I think I can arrange that."

Without further warning, Liam grabbed my wrists in one hand and pinned them to the wall above my head. His other hand snaked around my waist, holding me to him, his hips rolling into mine. His eyes were fierce and focused on mine. I closed my eyes, the sensations too much, and my breath quickened.

I heard Liam say through gritted teeth, "It's taken everything I had not to do this to you since I saw you at the bar. I wanted to take you then and there." His voice seemed to ease, the words coming easier for him. "You don't know how much I've wanted to touch you. To know you are real." Then he whispered, "and you are. Real. You're as beautiful tonight as you were in your pictures."

I opened my eyes and found Liam staring at me, and his intensity was nearly frightening. He pulled me tighter against himself, his fingertips digging into me while he crushed me against his body. I felt his hardness against my hip, and I couldn't stop myself from rubbing against it. This time Liam closed his eyes, and I felt the rush of blood to my centre.

Liam opened his eyes, desire naked on his face, "Kiss me," he said.

I met his soft and warm lips. I felt Liam's groan rumble in his vast chest, and kissing him again, my lips scraped against his whiskers. Liam kissed me back now. His tongue pushed past my lips, and found mine. His tongue playfully danced in my mouth. Liam's hand left my arse and started to feel my hips, my waist and then my breasts. He cupped them and gently squeezed. My breath caught as his hand skimmed past my nipple. His palm created friction against the lace of my bra, and tingles radiated through my body.

His lips left mine and went to my neck. He kissed and sucked at me, moving down to the top of my breasts. I heard him take a deep breath into my chest as his cheeks rubbed against my skin. His kisses became harder against my chest and moved back up to my neck, his teeth nipping at me as he went. Even though he had me captured, I wriggled against him, my hips moved uncontrollably, my breath uneven and weak.

Liam pulled away, still firmly gripping one of my hands. "Come with me." Liam led me to the lift.

"Where are we going?"

"To my bedroom." I pulled against him, forcing him to stop. "Sweetheart, I promise I won't fuck you until you ask."

My legs turned to jelly. I wanted to fall to my knees and beg despite my reservations. I nodded and followed Liam into the lift.

Part 4

#original character #original fiction #romantic story

17 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 3 years

Text

Invincible Episode 7 Improves Upon Its Already Great Source Material

https://ift.tt/3dGH4U1

This article contains spoilers for Invincible episode 7.

Amazon’s animated adaptation of Robert Kirkman and Cory Walker’s comic Invincible was always a great idea. The property has just about everything that streaming services and their audiences are looking for currently: superheroes, ultraviolence, and jaw-dropping twists.

One big question facing the series, however, was how could one show possibly fit in all the story of the comic’s lengthy 144-issue run? Invincible episode 7, “We Need to Talk,” is the first season’s penultimate installment and it reveals how the show is set to approach this logistical challenge. With so many comic book issues of plot to get through, Invincible seems perfectly happy to accelerate through that plot as efficiently as possible. To that end, “We Need to Talk” features a truly staggering number of climactic moments.

This might actually be the most charmingly chaotic and jam-packed episode of TV this year (at least before next week’s finale). So much happens in “We Need to Talk” that it runs the risk of overwhelming the viewer. With that in mind, let’s break down the important plot points of this hour and examine the major ways in which they differ from (and even improve upon) the comic.

Robot’s True Identity

The reveal that the entity known as “Robot” isn’t who he claims to be might be the most shocking Invincible twist thus far. And that’s saying a lot for a show whose first episode concludes with the story’s Superman equivalent straight up murdering the rest of his Justice League.

That Robot (Zachary Quinto) is really a malformed genius named Rudolph Conners isn’t a surprise to comic book readers, but its positioning this early in Invincible’s story is a surprise. Robot’s work with the Mauler Twins to create a new body for himself doesn’t happen until after the events of Omni-Man’s confrontation with Mark in the comics (more on that later). The show, however, shrewdly decides to present this moment in the same episode as Omni-Man’s fall – just so there’s never really a moment for viewers to catch their breath.

But now the truth has finally arrived. Robot, the orange hunk of metal with a fixedly bemused expression, is actually a machine being operated remotely by Rudolph Conners. Rudolph, or Rudy, is a small, damaged man whose body isn’t capable of surviving Earth’s environment. For many years Rudy was content to exist in his own life-giving tank of fluids while operating his superheroic “Robot” remotely. Everything changed, however, when he met the hero known as Monster Girl.

Rudy couldn’t help but identify with Monster Girl (Grey Griffin), a fellow soul who has made the best of a flawed body. Everytime Monster Girl transforms into a monster, her human form de-ages several more weeks. Theoretically at some point Monster Girl will become an infant and then waste away into nothingness. Before any of that happens, Rudy wants to fix her…and he wants to fix his own broken body so that the pair can be together.

From Battle Beast to Titan, The Invincible Rogues’ Gallery is Taking Shape

By Alec Bojalad

Invincible: Who is Atom Eve?

By Alec Bojalad

To that end, Rudy sprung the mad genius villain team The Mauler Twins from prison to create a cloned body for him to transfer his consciousness into. What makes this whole thing even stranger is that the genetic material Rudy chose for his new body belongs to his Teen Team and Guardians of the Globe colleague Rex Splode. The new Rudy appears to be played by Rex Splode actor Jason Mantzoukas with his voice altered to sound younger.

Does that mean Zachary Quinto is no longer a part of the series? Let’s certainly hope not as he may have been the best performer of the entire cast. And why did Rudy choose Rex’s DNA (and without Rex’s consent, it must be said)? Because Rex is hot, basically. Rudy chose a human form that Monster Girl was already comfortable flirting with.

This is…a lot. And the fact that Rudy has to introduce himself to his teammates while they’ve all gathered for an “apocalyptic event” just adds to the madness. But what of The Mauler Twins? The disappointment of Rudy’s double-crossing doesn’t last long. For, after Rudy is forced to abandon his efforts to reincarcerate the Mauler Twins to return to the Guardians home base, the twins get back to their important task at hand. And that leads to the return of another important Invincible character…

The Immortal is Immortal After All

Back in Invincible episode 1, Mark Grayson’s dad Nolan a.k.a. Omni-Man (J.K. Simmons) made short work of the Guardians of the Globe. Darkwing? Dead. War Woman? Dead. The Immortal? De….wait a minute. How can someone called “The Immortal” die?

Well, it turns out that death for The Immortal (still voiced by Ross Marquand) is only temporary. Omni-Man removed The Immortal’s head, which is pretty much universally lethal across all genre stories. But The Mauler Twins theorized that if The Immortal’s head were returned to his body, he would spring back to life.

Sure enough, that’s exactly what happened once The Immortal’s noggin was reattached. Unfortunately for The Mauler Twins, their dreams of forming any sort of alliance with the resurrected hero are quickly dashed as he immediately flies off to confront the man who killed him.

Omni-Man v. Cecil Stedman

And that takes us to Omni-Man. In the comic, Omni-Man’s confrontation with The Immortal is what leads Mark Grayson (Steven Yeun) to discover that he’s got a Darth Vader situation on his hands. The show borrows that moment from the comic because any time you have the opportunity to make a character watch his father tear a Wolverine-looking dude in half, you’ve got to take it. That comic book moment is surprisingly abrupt though. In one panel Omni-Man is doing his usual Omni-Man thing and saving a group of citizens from a faulty roller coaster and in the next panel, The Immortal is all over his ass.

The Amazon Prime series dramatically improves on what is already a pretty great moment simply by drawing it out and building serious tension. Nolan’s wife Debbie (Sandra Oh) and the entire Global Defense Agency led by Cecil Stedman (Walton Goggins) are already well aware of Nolan’s treachery and have decided to finally take action. In speaking to Den of Geek and other outlets prior to Invincible’s premiere, Kirkman (who’s onboard as a writer and producer for this adaptation) revealed that Cecil Stedman would be getting an expanded role earlier on in Invincible’s story.

“Cecil Stedman is a character that we get to know a little earlier in the show and definitely we get to do more with him,” he said. “I think that’s a lot of fun. There’s definitely some differences to his character and working with Walton Goggins on him has been great.”

Cecil really is a fascinating tool for Invincible. Many superhero stories have a Jim Gordon-style government liaison for its heroes to interact with. This person usually represents the interests of the planet’s “normal” citizen and is particularly impressive for being able to cut it in the world of the super-powered. By having Debbie and the GDA uncover Nolan’s guilt first, Invincible creates a wonderful opportunity to display both Cecil’s competence and depict the absolute horror of we puny humans trying to keep a super-powered god in check.

Many times throughout Invincible episode 7, Cecil admits that there is nothing they can do to stop Nolan. The best they can do is slow him down for a bit until Mark is able to intervene. The first roadblock that Cecil presents is the explosion of an entire suburban city block with Nolan at its epicenter (R.I.P. Donald).

“Best it will do is maybe knock him on his ass for an hour or two,” Cecil says. Then when the smoke clears to reveal an unharmed Omni-Man, Cecil grimly adds “Or maybe not hurt him at all.”

Cecil then throws the “hammer” at Nolan, which is a powerful blast from a weaponized satellite.

“$400 billion for the world’s most expensive nosebleed,” Cecil quips when Nolan takes the weapon out with ease.

Then we get a sense of how many moral shortcuts Cecil is willing to take to keep the Earth safe. Mad scientist D.A. Sinclair’s (Ezra Miller) wounds from his confrontation with Invincible haven’t even healed yet but Cecil already has him using his evil technology for noble purposes. Sinclair’s “Reanimen” technology is now being used to reanimate recently dead U.S. soldiers, who are sent in to slow down Omni-Man. Unfortunately, that is also unsuccessful.

Why Amazon Prime’s Invincible Had to Be Animated

By Alec Bojalad

Invincible Review (Spoiler-Free)

By Bernard Boo

Finally, Cecil is forced to head out into the field armed with nothing but a teleporter to confront Omni-Man himself. When that inevitably fails to slow Nolan down, the GDA sends a monster that Nolan already conquered, only this time it’s been robbed of its weaknesses and fear. And that’s where Mark finds his father, just in time for The Immortal to arrive and deliver one hell of a surprise.

There’s something to be said for the suddenness of the comic’s Omni-Man moment with Mark. Mark witnessing his dad’s evil act truly comes out of nowhere even though we know it’s inevitable as Nolan has been practicing this conversation all issue.

What the show does with the moment is a masterstroke, however. By centering the focus on the human characters of Invincible’s world, we get a chilling sense of just how terrifying this all is. Omni-Man’s heel turn doesn’t just have personal implications for Mark, it means that Earth’s unbeatable protector now seems to hate Earth. More terrifying than that is that the only person we think can defeat him is Mark Grayson…who, it must be said, has done nothing but had his ass absolutely handed to him by lesser enemies over and over again for the past three episodes.

Amber and Mark

It probably feels anticlimactic to address Mark and Amber’s lover’s spat after breaking down Omni-Man’s reign of terror. But it’s necessary to see how far-reaching the changes (and in this case improvements) are in episode 7 in comparison to its original text.

Mark and Amber’s relationship thus far has been all about frustration. Mark is facing an annoying problem with a seemingly easy solution. Amber (Zazie Beetz) is upset with him because he is absent in their burgeoning relationship. He’s absent in their burgeoning relationship because he’s a superhero. Therefore, the quickest, easiest solution to this dilemma is to tell her that he’s a superhero.

So in this episode, that’s exactly what Mark does. He gets suited up and flies right through Amber’s window to deliver the exciting news. The problem is – she’s not that excited.

“Ugh, I know you’re a superhero,” Amber says. “I’m not an idiot, I figured it out weeks ago.”

This is not how things go down in the comic. That version of Amber is a bit more…let’s say “bubbly” and when confronted with the fact that Mark has lied to her for weeks she responds with an excited “My boyfriend is a superhero?!?!?”

The show, however, is smart to not let Mark off the hook so easily. Of course Amber knew that Mark is Invincible. Because, like she says, she’s not an idiot. Anyone who spends an inordinate amount of time with him is bound to figure it out sooner than later. So what Mark thought was a problem with an easy solution becomes yet another difficult lesson on his path to maturation.

“I think that Amber is important in terms of holding Mark accountable,” Beetz told reporters prior to the show’s premiere. “Mark is still struggling with what his identity as a super person is. And she shows him that (powers) are not what make you good or special ultimately, it’s what’s in your character.”

It turns out that the people close to you don’t appreciate being lied to. Though human beings all look like particularly vulnerable ants from Mark’s perspective high up in the sky, we certainly don’t appreciate being treated like insects to be protected and manipulated by the powerful among us.

Mark and Amber’s relationship is an excellent indication that nothing will come easy for Mark Grayson on this show. Every decision has an equal and opposite reaction. It’s important that he learns that lesson before he enters into what is sure to be the most stressful and morally confusing moment of his life next week.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Invincible’s season finale will be available to stream Friday, April 30 on Amazon Prime.

The post Invincible Episode 7 Improves Upon Its Already Great Source Material appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3aBaalL

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

13 notes · View notes

petri808 · 4 years

Text

The Truth is not far from Fiction

@nalu-week bonus day AU prompt. Ghost story, modern setting, 7k words

Based on a real life experience.

One day late in the afternoon, Layla Heartfilia hears talking and pops her head into her toddlers bedroom. She sees the four-year-old playing with a doll in the middle of the floor, just babbling away and smiles. “Who are you talking to Lucy?”

The child’s brown eyes beam at her mother. “Mishi wanna pway wich doll.”

Assuming it was just an imaginary friend, the woman plays along. “I see. And are you being a good girl and sharing your toys?”

“Uh-huh, mommy.”

“That’s a good girl. I’ll be back shortly to get you for dinner, okay, you just keep playing nicely with your friend.”

“Otay,” Lucy giggles and looks at the girl sitting across from her, “Mishi you hungy too? Oh.” She then looks back at her mother, “Mishi say no can eat.”

“Why is that dear?”

“Mishis dead.”

><><><><><><><><><

From all outward appearances, Lucy Heartfilia was just your typical teenage girl. She had her tight-knit group of friends, a girly-girl when she wanted to be, but deep down was just as comfortable hanging with the guys. Fangirling over the latest manga heartthrob or relaxing with a good book were her two favorite things to do, well that and spending time with her best friend slash boyfriend Natsu Dragneel.

Natsu was born and raised in Hawaii whereas Lucy was a transplant to the islands. After her mother’s death, her father moved them to Hilo when the opportunity to invest in some new property developments came about. It was a small town compared to the big city they’d left behind, but it was a beautiful place and Lucy fell in love with it quickly. She knew her mother would have loved it because if there was one thing Layla Heartfilia had instilled in her daughter, it was a love of the stars.

Every cloudless night on the island provided a perfect opportunity for stargazing thanks to the role of the observatories on Mauna Kea; the islands largest volcanic mountain. Nothing brighter than an orange amber glow was allowed by law, cutting down on the amount of light pollution in Hawaii. Lucy loved it and took any opportunity to simply kick back under the stars picking out her favorite constellations.

It was now the summer of their graduation from high school and the friends wanted to do something together to kick it off. A few options were thrown around, but when the idea of relaxing under the stars came to mind, Lucy suggested a camping trip. Campfires and smores, maybe some hiking, or even better, snuggling after dark. The group was sold.

“Gajeel’s dad said his contact will let us stay at K.O.E.C in volcano for the weekend since it’s not being used during the summer.” Levy McGarden was the first friend Lucy made after moving to the island and Gajeel Redfox was the girl’s boyfriend.

Lucy tips her head in confusion. “Where’s that? I don’t think I’ve heard of it before.”

“Oh,” Levy chuckles, “sometimes I forget you weren’t born here. In elementary school, all the kids are taken camping there. It’s like an educational retreat cause it’s right next to the national park.”

“Ah, gotcha. So, it’s a camping ground?”

“Mmm, sort of. There’s a building and a big grass area and a bonfire pit. I don’t know the details if they’ll let us use the main building, but it’ll probably be fine if we just set up tents. Gajeel said the guy will give us a key to the gate when we arrive so we can go in and out.”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

Despite her father’s wishes for Lucy to go to a bigger college in the states, she decides to stay local for now, though that still meant relocating to a different island. It was true her decision was partially based on where her boyfriend was also attending school, but Chaminade University had a good reputation as well as the programs she was interested in. Natsu had graduated the year prior and received a football scholarship to attend the University of Manoa. He’d be home for the summer in just a couple of days and she was excited to spend as much time with him as possible.

Starting fresh in a new place during middle school after leaving all of her friends behind in California can be tough on any young person, so it was really thanks to Levy and Natsu for making her feel so welcomed in Hawaii. On the first day of class Levy had befriended her and introduced Lucy into the group of kids that would stick together all the way from Waiakea Intermediate through Waiakea High. They’re like a second family for the girl who didn’t have any siblings and a father who was too busy to pay much attention.

But that was part of the beauty behind her and Natsu’s relationship. It wasn’t something that happened overnight, rather blossoming over several years from a friendship until one day their friend Gray Fullbuster pointed out they were already a pseudo couple so they might as well just make it official. Whenever Lucy thinks about that moment, it always makes her smile, because Natsu had simply chuckled, asked if she wanted to be his girl, she said yes, and they went on with the conversation as if nothing had changed.

Bright and early on a Friday morning, the group meets up at the local McDonald’s parking lot before the caravan heads out as a group to the Volcano area. Lucy rides with Natsu in his pickup truck, while everyone else were in other vehicles. There were eight of them total on their way for a fun filled weekend out in the countryside. It was the first time Lucy would be spending an extended amount of time in the area. Prior to this trip she’s only visited the park to do the typical tourist things like seeing the Jagger Museum or hiking the sulfur banks.

As they make their way to the area, no matter if the vehicle slows or accelerates, the road ahead blends as Lucy stares out the window. Greens, browns, mixed with multiple colors when they pass buildings. Her mind drifts with it, strangely lulled by an energy she cannot place, nor is even aware of its pull on her. The radio playing becomes a background noise with only the bass beats standing out… the drums especially calling to her and lulling her into a spell.

“You okay, Luce?” Natsu questions her as she stares out the passenger window. The normally chatting girl was surprisingly quiet through the drive.

Lucy breaks out of her trance and looks over at her boyfriend. “Yeah, sorry I was just spacing out.” She smiles to allay his concerns. “I was so excited for this trip that I didn’t get much sleep.”

He reaches over and squeezes her hand with a smile. “How about I set up the tent first thing so you can take a nap?”

“I think I’ll be okay once we start doing stuff.”

“Whatever you say,” he winks.

She really wanted to enjoy this trip but the closer they got to the area the more a churning knot tightened in her stomach. It was a dubious feeling to place, not sick as if she were coming down with a cold, and she didn’t get motion sickness like her boyfriend, it was more like a foreboding feeling. Though a strange time to kick in, she had been a little stressed out about going off to college in the fall, so perhaps it was just a case of nerves.

That must be it, Lucy chalks up the weird feelings and rationalizes them as nothing more than a case of the jitters. Going away from home to a new place was a scary proposition, but she reminds herself she won’t be totally alone. Natsu will be on the island and so will Cana Alberona another close friend. And hey, thanks to the internet, those like Levy will be a simple click away too. She takes a deep breath and releases the churning emotions. It was time to focus on this camping trip and make it memorable.

When the caravan of vehicles pulls into the parking area, everyone waits with their vehicles while Gajeel settles up with the caretaker. Once that was complete, the group starts the task of setting up their gear. They break up the work, with the men focusing on the bigger jobs, erecting the tents, tables, and carrying the heavier items. The girls follow up with the sleeping bags, getting the food and other supplies squared away.

It was a nice place, just like Levy had described to Lucy. To the left of the parking lot was a large main building that housed expansive rooms used as classrooms. Downstairs were restrooms and showers, along with maintenance rooms. The caretaker had turned on the hot water and electricity for them to use on the bottom level, but the upstairs rooms were locked for security purposes. There was also security lighting around the building and on the street, but from what Lucy could gauge, once the sun goes down, the area would be quite dark. Good thing they brought a bunch of lanterns and flashlights.

In front of the building and parking lot, it opened up into a sprawling grassy area surrounded by trees. Beyond the trees were homes and subdivisions. At the very edge of the lawn, Lucy could see the bonfire area her friend had mentioned tucked in a corner. According to the caretaker, it was no longer used for full bonfires due to the threat of starting a forest fire, but they were allowed to make a small, normal sized campfire for doing things like roasting marshmallows or for warmth. The pit was also ringed with fallen Ohia tree logs to sit on.

The place was serene alright… but why was that nagging feeling eating away at her? As she stared towards the bon fire area, every fiber of her being was screaming at her to stay away from it. She didn’t like the vibes this place was giving off, which made absolutely no sense to her. It looked completely safe and quiet, they brought children here to camp for Pete’s sakes! Surely, the county wouldn’t allow visitors if this place wasn’t safe.

A shiver rushes along Lucy’s frame despite the lack of a breeze. Maybe she was just psyching herself out, so she turns away from the pit and focuses on something that did make her feel safe. Natsu had just finished setting up their tent. It was time for her to get their bedding down so they could settle in. Perfect, she could do that.

“So, how do you like it?” Natsu asks her as soon as she walks over to him. “Nice, right?”

“It’s a really scenic place,” Lucy agrees. She didn’t want to concern or spook him with her true thoughts of the place. “Is the tent ready?”

“Yup,” he grins, “pretty sure it won’t cave in.”

She chuckles, “I’ll get our sleeping bags and stuff set up.”

Natsu pulls her close and wraps his arms around her waist. “Just make sure I’ve got easy access to ya,” he wiggles his eyebrows. “After six months apart, I need to make up for lost time.”

That brings a flush to her cheeks and a giggle from the woman. “I think I can figure something out.”

He places a soft, lingering kiss on Lucy’s lips. “Remind me again how I managed to make you my girl?”

Lucy grins coyly, “by being an adorable dork.”

“Dork? Says the weirdo,” he chuckles and kisses her again. “Okay, you get cracking on this and I’ll be back in a bit after we set up the campfire for tonight.”

She just nods and watches him walk away for a moment, before turning her attention to the tent. Natsu had even added an additional tarp over the top in case it rained, how thoughtful and smart considering the weather here could turn without warning. Everyone had set up their tents, five in total, at distances from each other. Lucy chuckles in her head, knowing they weren’t the only ones with a little hanky-panky on the agenda.

Instead of using the sleeping bags as they were designed for, she unzips the two sets completely open, using one as the bottom and one as the blanket, finishing off their makeshift bed with the pillows. She then takes the bags that holds their clothing and toiletries and places it in the corner of the tent. Lastly, she double checks that their lantern was working properly and stores it near the entrance, so it was easy to turn on when needed.

With their accommodations ready, she could relax a little while she waited for Natsu to return. Since she didn’t know how long it would take the men to finish, Lucy decides to lay down and close her eyes. He’d suggested she take a short nap, and well, it seemed like a good idea now.

The moment she closes her eyes, the sunlight fades away behind her eyelids as her body slowly gives in. ‘This sleeping bag… is really comfortable…’ She felt peaceful, a sense of stilling calm like in the eye of a hurricane. The blue skies brought warmth streaming through the thin nylon fabric of the tent, pacifying the nervous pin pricks licking along her frame. Is that music playing somewhere? Lucy wonders as the edge of oblivion comes calling... Does someone have their bass cranked up?

‘Did I sleep the afternoon away?’ Lucy looks around as the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge and the sickening feeling pitted in her stomach tightens. Something’s wrong, her mind screams. Where was the tent?! Why was she in the forest?! Where did everyone go? She was taking a nap and suddenly she was in the middle of the dark Ohia forest.

It was deathly silent save for the drumbeats and chanting getting louder— so loud that she felt it in her bones. No other signs of life, of crickets or coqui frogs, nor distant sounds of the homes she knew were laid out around the campsite. Only the drowning of drumbeats and the word kapu (sacred) repeated over and over. She covers her ears in a useless attempt to shield them from the noise, but it was as if they were coming from inside her head.

‘Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!’ Her voice cracked and trembling, desperate to get away from the torment. Fight or flight takes hold and she starts to back away, but her legs feel like rubber, her feet like dead weight. She looks down as a silent scream bubbles up in her throat. Why is her feet sinking into the mud! The ground had been solid a second ago!

She opens her mouth to cry out for Natsu, anybody, but no sound leaves her. Panic sets in, sending her mind into a tailspin, and energy surges through her body. She claws at her throat in desperation, why wasn’t her voice coming out! Her mind is begging for someone to please hear her screams. Natsu! Where was Natsu?!

Something grabs her from behind and her arms begin flailing out desperate to fight back.

“Lucy, wake up!”

“Natsu!” The blonde screams, kicking and punching as she sits straight up on the bedding. Still in a panicked fight for her life, she scrambles away until her back hits the wall of the tent. Her brain is struggling to take back control from the dreamworld, but the sounds were all she could hear roaring in her eardrums.

The hold around her center felt as if something very strong and powerful was squeezing the life out of her. All she could hear in her head were her own screams and that incessant drumbeat! Make it stop! Make it stop! The tears are pouring down, clouding her vision and marring the scene in front of her. Get me out of here!

“Lucy, Lucy!” Natsu grabs hold of her wrists to keep her from hitting him. “It’s a dream, Lucy, you’re okay now.” His own panic was rising faster than a flood. Why wasn’t she responding to him? Her eyes are open, but she was staring past him as if he didn’t exist just screaming for help.

“Lucy?” He feels what he can only equate to as sticking your hand in an electrical socket. His hands start to tingle and the air around them heats up. “W-What the hell is going on?!” Natsu squeaks out as a true fear takes hold. He could understand daymares, but this… this was abnormal!

She thrashes against his hold for a few more seconds, shaking her head as tears pour in torrents down her cheeks. But despite the eerie shocks Lucy was giving him, he holds on tight until the opportunity presents itself to pull her into a fierce bear hug. Natsu had no idea what had set this off, so he fights off his own panic and does what he can, cooing and speaking softly to calm her. He couldn’t tell if his voice even had any weight behind it, but it was all he could muster.

“Shhh, babe I got ya now. Whatever it was, you’re safe.”

Natsu cradles her head, keeping it locked against his chest. There are footsteps around the tent along with a few ‘are you guys okay’ being asked. He responds that it was just a bad dream and not to worry. Lucy must have been much more tired than they’d realized for her to fall asleep so deeply and enter the dream stage in less than 30 minutes. He and Gray had only completed a third of the firepit when Levy had come to get him. The woman had heard distressing sounds coming from his girlfriend and they’d been enough to concern her.

Though Lucys mind was coming out of the dream world, and reality was taking hold again, a heavier panic sets in. How was she supposed to explain this to him? There was something about her life that she’d kept secret from everyone for fear of being looked at as a freak, and most of the time it wasn’t a problem to keep it hidden. Lucy fights to gain back control and to stop shaking. ‘It was just a dream Lucy,’ she tries to psyche up the lie in her head. ‘Nothing paranormal about a dream. It’s the stress manifesting itself.’ She didn’t want to worry anyone.

She takes several long, slow, deep breaths until the panic attack starts to wane. “Thank you, Natsu I-I’m fine now. I’m so sorry. I think all the anxiety of college is just getting to me.”

“No need to apologize Lucy, leaving home is scary. But you know I’ll be there for you right?”

“Yeah,” she cracks a smile. “I know you will be.”

“That was a pretty crazy dream though. Do you remember what it was about?”

Kapu… “No,” she shakes her head as if accentuating the word, but in reality, wishing the sounds echoing in her head would disappear.

“Okay.” His gut tells him not to push the topic until she was ready. Natsu kisses her forehead, “well if you do and you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears.” He smiles at her, “hey, why don’t you go wash your face, catch your breath, and maybe hang out with the girls to distract yourself while I finish up what I was doing?”

Lucy nods, “That’s a good idea.”

Of course, the moment she sat down with her concerned friends they bombarded her with questions about the daymare. Cana the ever-budding ‘spiritualist’ of the group pressing for information so she could discern the meanings behind what Lucy had seen. But she feigned not remembering anything once she’d been awoken by Natsu. She didn’t want to remember, rather forget it had ever happened. So, she falls back to the same excuse she’d used for him. Why not? At least if it were a consistent lie it would be easier to keep up.

“Are you sure Lu?” Levy reaches over and places a hand on her friends knee, “cause the way you were screaming… I swear even I was getting chills.”

“You literally sounded like you were being murdered.”

“Blunt enough, Cana?” Levy rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t need to be freaked out any more than necessary.”

“I really appreciate you’re guys concern, but I swear I’m fine now. I don’t remember what it was about and if it’s as bad as you’re saying, I’m glad I don’t remember.”

Levy fixes Lucy with a stare. “At least promise me if it happens again, you’ll talk to me.”

“I promise.” Lucy smiles back hoping to allay her friends concerns. “I think my nerves are just fried over college.”

To Lucy’s relief the rest of the group quickly switched into that topic. Juvia Lockser, Gray’s girlfriend was already a Sophomore in college, but she and the others shared their feelings of anxiety. It turns out they all felt similar to her, maybe even more so. Levy and Cana were born and raised in Hilo and had never travelled outside of the state before. Juvia is a transplant like Lucy except she came here for college from Seattle, Washington. It was only after meeting Gray at the University last year that she was folded into their group.

“Lemme see if I can explain it,” Levy taps her chin. “A lot of islanders feel like they’re stuck here— okay maybe not stuck, but like… they don’t wanna leave their comfort zone. So, going away for college is really nerve wracking, that’s why I’m really anxious about it and excited at the same time.”

“Speak for yourself,” Cana chimes in, “I’m nervous sure, but I can’t wait to go to Honolulu! First thing I plan to do is hit the clubs! And I plan to drag you with me Lu.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Lucy waves her hands excitedly while laughing, “don’t drag me into that!”

“Aww, come on, think about it! I’ll get you all hot and bothered and unleash you on Natsu.” Cana winks, “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“OMG!” Lucy throws a handful of ripped grass at her friend as the other girls burst into laughter.

It’s not long in chatting with the girls that Lucy’s fears subside and the daymare is semi-forgotten. They talk about the rest of their plans for the weekend, like how tomorrow will be spent in the park checking out the latest volcanic activity and hiking the trails. Someone needs to stay behind to watch the camp, so Cana and Loke de Lioncourt agree to do it. Their reasoning is let the couples have fun exploring, but everyone else knows that the pair wanted some “fun time” to themselves.

Things were still quiet for Lucy by the time the men finish prepping the fire pit. The girls had made a simple lunch of sandwiches for the gang, so the guys join the conversation and things continue to flow smoothly into a relaxing afternoon. With Natsu by her side, Lucy feels an additional calming energy and that helps to settle the remnants of creepy sensations she was still having. She didn’t know how of why he was having that effect on her but welcomed it regardless.

No matter where you go, there are spirits and because of her abilities, Lucy did what she could to acclimate to her surroundings. After moving to the islands, she familiarized herself with local legends and lore, about the gods and aumakua’s (spirit guardians), and so much more. There were tons of spirits here. But that didn’t mean she knew everything or when or where she may encounter them, and she certainly was no expert in how to deal with it. There’s no training manual for this stuff. The lucky ones find someone to mentor them, but beyond picking up tidbits where she could, Lucy worked by intuition most of the time.

After the incident in the tent, Natsu’s instincts were heightened. He couldn’t get a good read on what Lucy was thinking or feeling, but he could tell something was bothering her despite her downplays. But unless she was willing to tell him, he could only guess why her energy was spiking in an unusual manner and as darkness approached it was only increasing.

He watches her closely and starts to notice more troubling signs. Clearly, she was trying to hide them, but her mood was starting to change from engaged to removed. Where she was chatting normally at lunch, Lucy had slowed to only answering when spoken to. It was as if her mind was elsewhere and her energy level was waning. It reminded him of her behavior in the truck on their way to the site. Was it returning again?

“Here you go,” Natsu hands Lucy a plate of dinner. The group had barbecued some meat and thanks to the buildings electricity were able to make rice for a starch.

“Thanks,” she smiles, though the look behind it gave off a disinterested vibe.

Lucy had been holding her arm around her stomach as if it were bothering her. He’d just hoped she would say something if that were the case, but she never had. He sits down beside her, eating, and continuing his vigil. Was Lucy getting paler, or was it just the waning light? Even her eyes seemed dimmer.

“Are you feeling ill, you don’t look well.” Natsu finally whispers hoping not to gain attention from the group.

“Huh? Why?”

“You just look a little peaked is all.”

“I don’t know,” Lucy picks at the contents of her plate, “maybe I’m still tired… I kinda feel zapped all of a sudden.” She was feeling ill, as if an unexpected flu was kicking in, but she didn’t want to admit it. Her stomach was queasy, and her head was starting to get dizzy.

“If you’re not feeling well, I don’t mind taking you home.”

“No, no,” she shakes her head determined to push through this bout. “I don’t wanna ruin your weekend.” But shaking her head was a bad idea and now she really felt dizzy. Why was this happening now? She’d been perfectly fine when they were in Hilo.

“Luce, helping my girl out isn’t gonna ruin my weekend.”

“Are you sure? Because…” her voice trails out and eyes roll back seconds before Lucy collapses forward. She never had a chance to finish.

The next 30 seconds is like a slow-motion scenes in a movie. Her name is screamed, and gasps ring out. Natsu reacts on instinct, dropping his plate and shooting his hand out to grab her before she face plants onto the ground. Everyone around them is on their feet in a flash, rushing over for support. When he lands partially under Lucy, Gajeel and Gray help him to get back into a sitting position with the unconscious woman still cradled in his lap.

Natsu could feel a dark energy gathering around her that hadn’t been there before, triggering electrical sensations along his skin, similar to what he’d felt in the tent. This was not good… not good at all! Whatever had affected Lucy earlier in the day was intensifying. “I better get her to the hospital, somethings not right!” He scoops the unconscious woman up and gets to his feet.

Gray reaches out to support some of Lucy’s weight as Natsu stands up. “Yeah, man, do what you gotta do.”

“And don’t worry about your stuff, we’ll take care of it,” Gajeel chimes in. “You just worry about you’re woman.”

Levy places a hand on Natsu’s arm, her eyes clouded and barely holding back the pain of her concern. This was her best friend. With such an eventful afternoon, every worst-case scenario was running through her mind. Was Lucy sick? What kind of illness could strike a healthy young woman down so quickly? “Please call us as soon as you find out what’s wrong, okay, promise me.”

“Will do, Lev, I promise. Thanks guys.”

As Natsu secures Lucy into his truck, the girls grab the couple’s personal belongings like Lucy’s purse and a duffle bag of clothing for him. The camping gear, tent and such will be safe in the care of their friends. He was doing all he could to stay calm because the last thing he needed was to lose control and wreck his truck or something. When he climbs in and starts up the vehicle, he notices Lucy starting to stir a little. She was strapped in so she wouldn’t fall over, and her body stayed slumped, but her head was working to hold itself up. “Lucy? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah…” she mumbles with her eyes closed.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“What… happened?”

“You collapsed.”

Once he makes it out of the country roads and clears the forest, the truck roars it down the highway. Natsu wanted to get Lucy to the hospital as quickly as possible since it was about 40-50 miles away. Lucy was healthy, so he was concerned with the speed this illness had hit her, fast and hard.

He keeps his eyes on the road but checks on the woman in his passenger seat every few seconds. When they’d put her in the truck, she was barely ambulatory and coherent. Lucy still had her eyes closed as she rested her head in the crook of the door frame and seat. She was breathing normally as far as he could tell and at least her arm had relaxed away from clenching around her abdomen.

If he didn’t know better, it was as if Lucy had fallen asleep again. But the longer he watched, the more he could tell the situation was changing. After 10 minutes of driving and reaching the Fern forest area, she had shifted in the seat, stretching out her legs and sitting upright.

“How ya feeling Lucy?”

“A little better,” she responds. It was strange, but the heavy pressure she had felt back at the camp was slowly lifting the further they got away from it. Her body still felt tired as if all the energy had been sucked from it, but at least the foreboding vibes were melting away and she could breathe easier again. It was a complete reversal of how she felt going to the area.

“That’s good to hear.” It wasn’t just her words that brought him some relief. Natsu could sense the shift. The aura around her was no longer as dark as it had been at the camp.

Another 10 minutes or so passes by and they’d reached the town of Mountain View. Here Natsu was forced to slow down due to a slower speed limit and higher traffic flow. They come to a red traffic signal, so he takes the opportunity to make a better assessment of his girlfriend. Not only was Lucy’s eyes open, but they looked bright and her skin wasn’t as pale anymore. She was sitting fully upright just looking around as if taking in the view. Certainly not the look of someone being rushed to the hospital.

“Could we stop and grab food,” Lucy asks out of the blue when they’re about to hit Keaau town. He turns and looks to see her smiling at him. “I’m really hungry all of a sudden.”

“Um, yeah sure,” his eyebrow raises in confusion, “we could stop at McDonalds.”

“Great!”

“You know,” he pauses, “you seem a lot better Lucy, like completely normal and that’s kind of freaking me out.”

Lucy averts her eyes and her lips curve down in a small frown. “I’m really sorry for worrying you Natsu.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“I don’t really like to talk about it…”

“Well I think I deserve to know considering you just scared the hell out of me Luce.”

She sighs, “You’re right— I-I don’t know exactly what happened back there, but there is something I haven’t told you or anyone else.”

Natsu can see the moisture building in her eyes, she was clearly torn and upset over whatever it was. He wasn’t angry that she’d withheld something from him, maybe a little annoyed, but he assumed she had a good reason for it. Lucy was never one to lie to him, so this must be a big deal to her. “You know I’d never judge you, right? You can tell me anything.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” she sighs again. “You don’t need to take me to the hospital, there’s nothing medically wrong with me.”

“Are you sure?”

Lucy nods. “Can we grab food and go back to your house? Then I’ll come clean… a-about everything.”

He picks up her hand and kisses it, nodding before turning off into the shopping complex’s parking lot. They order food through the drive through, then set off for his parent’s house in Hilo. It takes them about 20 more minutes to arrive and after giving a half-hearted explanation of cutting their trip short to his parents, the pair settle upstairs in Natsu’s bedroom.

Starving had been an understatement as Natsu watched Lucy inhale her burger. Normally he would finish meals first and would have to wait for her to catch up. It was eye opening, and probably the first time in all the years they’ve known each other he’s witnessed it. Of course, the whole day has been filled with new experiences with her, and this was the least concerning of it all.

With her food gone, Lucy pushes herself up and sits back against his headboard contemplating exactly how she should explain things to Natsu. She didn’t know why she was so worried about telling him, since he’s never been judgmental before. In fact, he often teased that he found her quirks endearing. But this wasn’t exactly normal. For his part, Natsu just sat on the bed in front of her in a cross-legged position, patiently waiting.

With her fingers fidgeting in her lap and her eyes boring holes into his comforter, Lucy starts out with a question of her own. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Never seen one before, but I believe it’s not impossible for them to exist.” He shifts in his position to let his legs stretch out and props himself with his arms behind his back. “I mean growing up here and being bombarded by the culture kind of gave me an open mind to it.”

“W-What if I told you that I’ve been able to see them since I was a kid? Would you think I’m weird?”

“You mean weirder than I already think you are? No,” he chuckles, “I wouldn’t.”

“I’m serious!” she pouts.

“So am I,” Natsu laughs harder. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he leans forward and pats her foot, his expression softening. “I’m just trying to show you that it doesn’t bother me. I’m not making fun of you, I promise. Is that what is was back there, a ghost?”

Lucy shakes her head. “I don’t think it was a regular ghost, and I still don’t fully understand what happened.”

“How about starting from the beginning. You were distracted before we even got to the place.”

“It was strange… like, as we drove into the area, I was getting a creepy feeling, you know, like when the hair stands up on the back of your neck? I tried to ignore it, but it only grew stronger once we reached the site. I kept telling myself it was nerves and then that daymare happened.” Lucy didn’t want to admit it, but in hindsight all the warning bells were there, and she’d chosen to ignore them. The creepy feelings, the energy drains, that daymare… If she’d listened to her instincts, she could have invoked a protection barrier. Of course, with how strong the energy source had been, she didn’t know if it would have worked, but trying would have been better than nothing.

“Yeah, the daymare. Do you remember it?”

She squeezes her eyes shut still wishing she couldn’t, but nods, “I do.” Sometimes her abilities came in handy and other times it was more like a curse. Lucy couldn’t see ghosts, but she could feel them, hear them, and being a sensitive attracted them to her. Most were benign, simply stuck in this realm, while others were angry and strong enough to affect the living world. As a sensitive, Lucy was more likely to become a target because just as she could sense them, they could sense her.

“Are you up to telling me? You don’t have to if you don’t want to cause you were pretty freaked out about it.”

“I should…”

Natsu realizes just thinking about it is triggering a small panic attack again. He sees her body start to shiver and shake. “H-Hey,” he quickly crawls over, pulls her into his lap and cradles her. “Don’t force yourself.”

“No, I-I want to. Maybe if I let it out, i-it’ll help.” Lucy releases an exhale. “I was in the forest hearing all these drumbeats and chanting and it was getting louder.” Her hands cover her ears as if she was re-living the dream. “I was so confused, no idea how I got there. My feet started to sink into the ground, and I couldn’t fight back when something grabbed me. I-I started to panic and the word kapu kept ringing in my head. I was screaming for you, for anyone… ugh the drums! A-and that’s when I woke up.”

He moves her hands away from her ears and tightens his embrace in a bid to make her feel safe again.

“After you calmed me down, I was able to forget about it for a while. I figured it was just a bad dream and moved on. But then during dinner I started to feel drained, like all my energy was being sucked away. I tried to ignore it thinking I was just tired and the next thing I knew, I woke up in the truck.”

“And this has never happened to you before?”

She shakes her head no. “At least not this bad before.” This wasn’t the first time Lucy had encountered an area heavy with spiritual energy. The islands were rife with it, but this was the first time that it had affected her to this extent.

“So, it has happened before?”

“Sort of… like once before when I went to a place that I learned later has evil spirits.” Lucy relaxes a little. “Best I can explain it, is when there’s really strong energies around me, it makes me feel weird, like zapped. Maybe there were powerful spirits around the camping area.” A chill runs along her spine causing her to shiver. “Definitely not going back to that place again.” Lucy looks up at Natsu. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Far from it.” He hugs her tighter. “You just have a gift and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Lucy snorts a laugh, “can I return this gift?”

“Mmmm,” he chuckles too, “probably not. But you know, you’re not alone, right? I mean, you’re the only person I know that’s actually seen stuff, but as far as being sensitive, you’re not the only one. My mom says that I have a little bit of empathic abilities. I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I just know I pick up on how people are feeling around me. That’s why I kept asking if you were okay.”

“Wow,” her eyes widen, “I had no idea.”

“Yeah, cause I don’t advertise it,” Natsu laughs. “The guys know about me, but it’s not something I talk about to others.”

She sighs, “guess we were both hiding something from each other.”

“I won’t hold it against you, if you won’t hold it against me.”

“Thank you Natsu.” Lucy leans up and kisses him softly. She cups his cheek in her hands, “I really appreciate you being so understanding.”

He places his hand over hers, eyes smiling, just holding the special moment. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He then pulls her head against his shoulder.

Lucy settles happily on his lap just relieved that the whole ordeal was over. It was disheartening that she wouldn’t get to hang out with their friends this weekend but having Natsu with her was enough for now. They still had the rest of the summer to spare.

While she recuperated in his arms, Natsu sends a text to Gray and Levy explaining what happened. To his surprise the girl sends a message back saying she may know what Lucy was experiencing. There was a Hawaiian legend from the volcano area that may explain it. So, he calls Levy and puts her on speakerphone.

According to the girls readings, during the time King Kamehameha the First was working to unify all of the islands, many battles took place with local chiefs, including in the volcano area. Legend holds that sometimes spirits of deceased soldiers will continue to march in death. Such ‘Night Marchers’ have been seen right around the area where K.O.E.C. is located. They come out at specific times, which Levy had no idea when that could be. But perhaps, that was the source of what affected Lucy?

It was as good a guess as any.

Levy, “Some say that if the living encounters them, unless there is an aumakua in the procession of marchers to protect that person, they can become ill or even die from exposure. Course no one’s ever verified any of that.”

“I remember reading about the night marchers. I always thought it was exaggerated like a lot of claims are.” Lucy frowns, “but it sure explains what I might have been sensing.” She’d studied local lore because it was interesting to her and the culture in Hawaii made it fairly easy to research things. Stories of ancient tales and ghostly encounters abound here, but there was so much information, it wasn’t always easy to tell fact from fiction.

“Do you think they were warning you or something?” Natsu questions. “Cause it wasn’t even fully nighttime yet and I heard they come out later in the evening.”

“Ugh,” Lucy groans, “I have no idea because I really don’t fully understand all this stuff yet. Like I said, I thought night marchers were just folklore, so I never believed all the stories. But thanks Levy, knowing what it might have been makes me feel a lot better that I wasn’t going crazy.”

Levy, “Aww, you’re welcome Lu! It’s kind of late to pack it in for the night, but everyone agrees we rather find somewhere else to camp so you guys can join us for the rest of the weekend.”

“Wow, really? That’ll be so great!”

Levy, “Of course! It’s always better when everyone’s together. Take care you guys, and don’t worry about us. I’ll text you as soon as we figure out the plan.”

Natsu hangs up the phone and bundles Lucy close. “So, what’dya say? Spend the night here with me?”

“Your parents won’t mind?”

“Pfft, my parents love you. Just kinda bummed we can’t… you know,” he grins.

“I’m just as bummed about that too,” she teases, “but there’s always tomorrow.” Lucy cuddles against him and closes her eyes. Natsu’s energy was so soothing to her and now she knew why. It was kind of amusing that she ended up with a guy who had gifts like her, albeit a different one. Still, it made her feel normal for once in her entire life. “Thank you again Natsu, you know, for everything.”

He kisses the top of her head and leans his against hers. “You’re welcome, weirdo.”

“Yeah, well a weirdo you’re stuck with.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

><><><>Notes<><><><

Much of the spookier elements are based off an experience I had when I was around the age of 11 when we were taken to this location for a school trip. By the end of the day I was getting so sick a chaperone had to take me home, but just like in the story, once we were away from the area, I was completely fine. I’ve had many experiences over the years, this one isn’t even the scariest. No idea how you label me, all I know is I am sensitive, possibly an empath, I absorb and affect energy. I don’t actually see spirits, I just sense them and generally unless they are strong like those in this story, they don’t bother me or can’t because I can repel them now. Oh, and the reason I made Natsu have something too is just because lol. My husband actually sees stuff, and I think it’s ironic that I picked someone that has gifts too.

#nalu week 2020 #nalu #natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #nalu fan fiction #nalu fan fic #au prompt #modern AU #ghost tale #petri808

94 notes · View notes

letterboxd · 3 years

Photo

The Other Bill and Ted.

As No Man of God hits theaters and VOD following its Tribeca premiere in June, director Amber Sealey talks to Dominic Corry about her Ted Bundy two-hander and answers our Life in Film questions.

Amber Sealey has been very acknowledging of the fact that her new film is one of many to center around the horrific crimes of serial rapist and murderer Ted Bundy. As she outlined in her Tribeca Q&A with Letterboxd, one way she intended No Man of God to stick out from the pack was through the use of consciously silent background characters who represent Bundy’s voiceless victims.

The structure and source of the film also help distinguish it from other Ted Bundy movies: No Man of God is based on the recordings of FBI agent Bill Hagmaier (played in the film by Elijah Wood), who was tasked with interviewing an incarcerated Bundy in the years leading up to his execution, in order to help determine whether or not he was criminally insane, which could’ve helped to remove Bundy from death row.

With many of Bundy’s victims never officially attributed to the killer, Hagmaier also sought to draw confessions, and something resembling remorse, out of Bundy, to help bring closure to those victims’ families. As detailed in the film, much of which was taken directly from transcripts of the interviews, Bundy and Hagmaier’s relationship was complicated, and the intimacy that develops between them informs No Man of God in often uncomfortable ways.

Luke Kirby and Elijah Wood in a scene from ‘No Man of God’.

Wood (also a producer on the film) and Luke Kirby turn in career-high work as Hagmaier and Bundy, respectively, while Sealey textures the film with some of the most emotive stock-footage montage sequences this side of The Parallax View. Among positive reactions to the film, Claira Curtis, in a four-star review, writes: “Perhaps one of the most successful elements lies in Amber Sealey’s uncentering of the ‘genius’ moniker that has followed Bundy through his years of infamy.” On the pairing of Wood and Kirby in the leading roles, Connor Ashdown-Ford notes that “the chemistry between them both is so authentic it’s darn right unsettling”.

Unsettling is right. Late in the film, Sealey depicts a real-life TV interview that took place between Bundy and evangelical preacher/author/psychologist James Dobson (played by stalwart character actor Christian Clemonson), who uses Bundy to forward his anti-pornography agenda. Throughout this scene, the camera lingers on a young female member of the TV crew (played by an uncredited Hannah Jessup) as she silently reacts to being in Bundy’s presence. Emblematic of Sealey’s aforementioned philosophy in constructing the film, it’s a moment that appears to be having an impact on audiences, as detailed in Nolan Barth’s review: “She might have one of my favorite performances of this year? She shows us fascination, guilt, disgust and fear in like only 30 seconds of screen time. Give her an Oscar. Please.”

In an awkward incident that represents a perhaps unanticipated effect of there being so many contemporaneous movies with the same subject matter, director Joe Berlinger (Metallica: Some Kind of Monster, the Paradise Lost trilogy), who recently directed both the Zac Efron-starring scripted Ted Bundy biopic Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile and the documentary Conversations with a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes, sent an email to Sealey ahead of No Man of God’s Tribeca premiere about remarks she had made while discussing how her film differentiated itself from the existing Ted Bundy movies. He felt she had accused him of glorifying Bundy. After Sealey took the exchange public, she explained to Variety that she had never singled out Berlinger’s films in any of her remarks.

In a conversation with Letterboxd, Sealey delves into her approach to No Man of God, and talks about some of her filmic inspirations.

‘No Man of God’ director Amber Sealey.

There is really effective and creepy use of stock-footage montages in this film. Sometimes you see that sort of thing at the beginning of a film, but it’s interesting that you keep going back to them after using them in the opening credits. What was the thinking in using those montages and how did you select the footage? Amber Sealey: The thinking for those was a couple things: One, we don’t leave the prison, and I wanted [the audience] to know a little bit what’s going on outside, in terms of the cultural zeitgeist, like what’s the tone of the time? What movies are popular? What books are popular? What are people wearing? I wanted to have there be a kind of cultural touchstone outside of the prison, but at the same time I wanted it to represent potentially a little bit of what was going on inside Bill’s mind. So the story of the montages as they go on, it gets a little bit more fucked up, for lack of a better word, for Bill, inside of his head.

We were originally going to shoot the crowd scenes [of protesters outside the prison] and recreate them and then because of Covid restrictions, we couldn’t do that anymore. So then I knew we were going to be using archival footage for the crowd, and I didn’t want the archival crowd footage to suddenly jump out as being so different from the rest of our film. We’re shooting on an ARRI camera, [so it’s] not going to look like a Hi-8 from the 1980s. I needed to incorporate this look, this ’80s grainy look into the rest of the movie so that it feels like it’s part and parcel of the film, part of the storytelling.

We got [the footage] in different ways. I have an old friend that I’ve known since I was like, two, he lived next door to me, and my cousin, they both had video cameras in the ’80s and would film everything. So some of that footage is old family footage of their family or friends. There’s a couple shots in there of my neighbors when I was growing up. Then some of it, we did a lot of research on [stock-imagery services] Getty and Pond5, just finding archival footage that we could use that really told the story that we wanted to tell with the montages. It was a lengthy process finding all of that footage for sure.

What was Bill Hagmaier’s involvement in the film? Bill is an executive producer on the film, so he was very involved. The transcripts of those conversations between Bill and Ted, we got from Bill. Bill gave us so much great stuff to work with—the newer FBI files that he was allowed to share with us and the recordings, and when the script was originally written it was written based off of those recordings, and the writer originally spoke to Bill and then when I came on board, I talked to him and then I changed the script, even more from conversations I had with him. He was just a resource.

Almost every [character] you see on screen, those are real people, and he hooked us up with a lot of those real people. I spoke with the prison guards and the wardens and all of that. Then he was just a resource in terms of like, I would ask him, “what color were your shoes?” “Did you carry this kind of briefcase or that kind of briefcase?” Because it was important to me that all that production-design stuff was really authentic. I liked to know, like, “what were your haircuts like then, Bill?” So he was available to talk about the emotional side of things, and then the real just humdrum kind of things. He’s just a lovely guy, he’s really supportive of me and of the film and he just wanted to be accessible as much as he could and he was. He’s a very humble, generous person.

Aleksa Palladino plays civil-rights attorney Carolyn Lieberman to Luke Kirby’s Ted Bundy.

What films did you watch, or cite as reference points in preparation for No Man of God? Literally hundreds and hundreds of movies. When I’m looking for my creative look, I just watched so many films, and a lot of old films. I’d have to go back and look at my look book to tell you all of them but I pull images from the weirdest places. But once I get past figuring out the creative look of the film, I don’t then like to watch the movies a lot because I try to really make it its own thing and I worry too much that I’ll be copycatting other artists and I want to try [to] avoid that.

What’s your favorite true-crime movie? Oh god, what was the one about the guy who like, went to the bathroom and confessed, accidentally? He forgot his mic was on? Do you remember that one?

The Jinx? Yeah. Even though it’s a documentary, I’m going to go with that.

What’s your favorite big-screen serial-killer performance? It has to be Luke Kirby. Luke Kirby as Bundy.

What was the first horror film you saw? My dad had me watch Cat People when I was nine. Does that count?

The Val Lewton one? The ’80s one.

Oh, the Paul Schrader one? Yes! The Paul Schrader one.

Nastassja Kinski in Paul Schrader’s ‘Cat People’ (1982).

When you were nine years old? Yeah. I also watched Blue Velvet when I was nine. Oh wow, thank you Dad.

What’s the most disturbing film you’ve ever seen? Most disturbing, hmm… Kids.

What film made you want to become a filmmaker? It was Michael Winterbottom’s Nine Songs. My first film was a reaction to that movie. I’m a huge Winterbottom fan. That’s a great movie, but also it advertises itself as being a real relationship and real sex and I watched it and I was like, well that’s not like any… it was like two models, you know? Their sex scenes were like a perfume ad and I was like, well that’s not what real sex looks like for real people. I made my first feature after that.

What’s your go-to comfort movie? Oh, so many, let’s think. The Proposal. I love Trainwreck. I really like rom-coms, like if I’m sick or something, I’ll watch rom-coms. Roman Holiday, stuff like that.

What’s a classic that you couldn’t get into or that you think is overrated? Umm. Star Wars. I’m trying to think, there’s something else that I just don’t like… everyone loves that singing movie. What’s that singing movie that when Moonlight won the Oscar, it got announced?

La La Land. Yeah. I was not into that.

What filmmaker living or dead do you envy/admire the most? Yorgos Lanthimos. Or Phoebe Waller-Bridge.

If you were forced to remake a classic movie, what would you remake? Grease.

Who would be in the cast of your Grease remake? Oh I don't even know but it would be much darker. It would still be a musical and still be funny, but much darker.

I would like to see that movie. I would too.

Related content

Diego’s list of films featuring the FBI

Boris1980’s list of films about serial killers

Follow Dominic on Letterboxd

‘No Man of God’ is in theaters and on VOD from August 27, 2021.

#amber sealey #luke kirby #elijah wood #ted bundy #bill hagmaier #fbi #serial killer #thriller #courtroom #fbi movies #letterboxd

4 notes · View notes

holidaywishes · 4 years

Text

Embers XII

Chapter XII: the devil’s playing tricks on me...

Summary of series: Katie moves from Peachtree, Georgia, to L.A. with her son, Alex, to start fresh after the death of her husband. When she meets Evan Buckley, a young firefighter, she falls fast but will her son be so quick to accept Evan into his life?

Summary of chapter: After weeks chained up and trapped, Katie and Alex finally escape but things don’t go as smoothly as either of you hoped.

Warning: Trigger warning for abuse, language, angst and fear, bad Google translating skills

Author’s Note: I had so much fun writing these two chapters, as twisted as that sounds, but it was like a sudden burst of inspiration hit and I just kind of had a flow going. Hopefully this chapter will be the same thing and I hope you all continue to enjoy the chapters! Thanks for reading! Stay golden, loves <3

masterlist

the other masterlist

Katie’s P.O.V

“Katie, Katie...” Evan’s voice called to you

“Evan?” you murmured

“Wake up, sleepy head. Alex is gonna be late for school” he laughed

“School?”

“Yeah, you know that place the kids go to learn?”

“Are we home?” you asked, noticing Evan’s eyebrows crease together

“Of course you’re home!”

“I had the strangest dream...”

“Get up,” Evan mouthed but a different voice came from his throat, “wake up, Katerina!” You woke up to find Jeff hovering over you, “were you having a bad dream?” He smirked, forcing you to look around you. Damn it, you thought to yourself, of course it was just a dream, “I’ve got a busy day today,” Jeff continued, “Errands to run, people to see, things like that... You’re going to have to be on your own today. I expect you to stay put. Are you going to behave?”

“Where am I gonna go?” you chided, lifting up your arms as high as you could before the chains stopped you

“After you tried to run away last time, I have no choice,” he replied and you turned your head away from him, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” You were starting to lose hope and all track of time; you couldn’t tell if you had been there for weeks or months.

“Mom?” Alex called through the vent

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You know I love you right?”

“Of course I do, Alex, why?”

“I just wanted to tell you, in case...” he trailed off

“Baby, no, shh,” you tried but your throat was so dry that you almost couldn’t speak, “don’t think like that. We’re getting out of here, remember? Together”

“I’m sorry if I was mean to Buck”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought dad would come back and be mad that you were with someone else...”

“Sweetheart, maybe you should go back to sleep. We don’t need to talk about this, I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I know Buck didn’t either”

“I really like him. He’s so funny and he’s a firefighter!”

“He likes you too, bud.”

“He’s gonna get us out of here, I know it. I can feel it”

“Alex...” you sighed, “he’s not gonna get us out of here. He doesn’t even know where here is. We’re gonna have to get ourselves outta this one, kid.”

“Well, we can do it.”

“You’re chipper today” you scoffed

“He’s gonna be gone most of the day, mom, we can get away...”

“Alex, my love...” you frowned, “I can’t get out of these chains which means I can’t get to you. Not without Jeff...”

“Maybe I can..” you heard him struggling, assuming he was trying to get out of the shackles, “just pull my...”

“Don’t sweetheart, I don’t want you to hurt yourself”

“I think I’m almost out” he groaned just as the front door opened

“Stop, Alex!” you urged, “you need to stay put okay? Just for a little longer”

“What’s he doing back?” Alex said in fear

“I don’t know, just stay put.” Jeff crept into the bedroom, sitting on the bed beside you.

“I guess I had less to do than I thought I did” he smirked

“I’m sorry” you whispered

“What?” he asked

“I shouldn’t have tried to run away,” you said, “I was just worried for Alex. I know now you’re not going to hurt him...”

“I appreciate your apology,” he smiled, “that couldn’t have been easy for you. I’m not going to hurt either of you unless you try to run away again. But the two of you need to eat, so if you promise to behave, I’ll take the chains off.”

“I promise” you shook your head frantically and waited for him to undo the chains that kept you in place. He walked you to the table and sat you down before going back and bringing Alex to you; setting down quite the feast in front of you.

“Slow down little man” Jeff laughed as Alex scarfed down the food on his plate

“Manners, Alex...” you added, trying to play the role that Jeff wanted you to. He smiled at your words but quickly changed the topic

“There’s been quite the commotion going on in the 118...” he said, looking over at you while you tried to keep your eyes down, “someone put out an AMBER alert and everything”

“Oh?” you said, still looking at your plate

“Yeah,” he continued, “I think you need to make a call”

“A call?” you perked up your head at the idea of being able to hear your mother’s voice again, maybe talk to Evan or anyone from the outside world.

“To clear some things up,” he added, “you know, before we leave”

“Leave?” you and Alex questioned, dropping your forks

“Where are we going?” Alex asked

“Well, I was thinking about it,” he started, “this place is nice. L.A. weather is beautiful, but it’s not like Peachtree. After all, there’s no place like home right?”

“You wanna take us back to Georgia?”

“It’s home. We deserve to start our family where it feels like home.”

“But my mom, Alex’s grandma, she’s here. She’ll be all alone, we can’t leave her.” You tried, furrowing your brow at his words

“That’s what the phone call is for.” He admitted and you looked at Alex, “you’ll explain to her that you’re missing home and that she’s always welcome for a visit but both you and Alex just had to go back to Peachtree”

“You want me to lie to her?”

“It’s necessary,” he stated calmly, “if that Buckley had just minded his own business you wouldn’t have to lie. But here we are...”

“Can Alex at least say goodbye to her as well?” you asked, “I don’t want to be the only one she hears from...”

“Fine. But only 10 minutes, five each!” He gave you the phone and you dialed your moms number

“Mom?” you whispered

“KATIE?!” she exclaimed, “oh baby girl! Are you alright?” you felt your eyes well up with tears at her question

“I’m fine, mom,” you replied as she let out a whimper, “mom? Mom? I can’t hear you, are you still there?” you faked

“I’m here sweetheart!” she said, forcing you to muffle the sounds

“I need a better signal.. outside?” you asked hesitantly and much to your surprise, Jeff agreed. You took Alex’s hand and led him outside to continue the call, “Mommy?” you continued

“Oh baby, it’s so good to hear from you. Where are you?” she asked, her voice shaky as she tried to control her tears

“I love you, mom.” You said, small tears flowing freely from your eyes now, “no matter what, always remember that, okay?”

“Katerina, sweetheart, you’re scaring me. Tell me where you are and I’ll come get you okay?”

“I can’t...” you said, stopping her, “we’re going home. You can visit us but we’re going home...”

“Katie?”

“Alright that’s enough!” Jeff shouted as he made his way over to you and Alex

“Wait!” you shouted, “Alex didn’t get to talk to her.” You handed the phone to your son before whispering something in his ear and moving in front of him

“Oma?” his little voice spoke, “Mama says we’re coming home! Are you gonna be there?”

“I think you’ve both had enough time, you’ve said what I allowed you to stay” he huffed, moving closer to you and Alex but not before you pushed your son toward the car, handing him the keys that you managed to sneak from the bowl by the door, “Katerina...” he said, slowly stepping toward you, “you said you’d behave”

“Alex!” you called to your son to get him to start the car

“Don’t be stupid, Katie.” Jeff argued, “you know what happens if you get in that car...” You inched backward but Jeff inched forward, anger covering his face until it overcame him. He lunged at you and you lunged to the side, knowing he would run after you before he ran to Alex

“I told you,” you sneered, “you should’ve let him go. He’s done nothing to you.” When he got close enough to you, you kicked your leg out hoping that it would connect with some part of him, and it did. You somehow managed to kick him square in his chest and knock him down, but with that, you lost your footing, falling onto your back

“Why do you have to fight me every step of the way?!” he shouted as he grabbed your shirt in his hands, lifting you up and knocking your head against the hard ground

“MOM!” you heard Alex shout from the car, the noise distracted Jeff long enough for you to knee him in his groin and get yourself up. When you got into the car, you looked around frantically, shit, you said under your breath, smiling at your son

“It’s fine. Never driven manual before but I guess I’m gonna have to learn. Fast.” You sighed and began shifting the car into gear, wincing at the grinding sounds it made

“KATERINA!” you heard Jeff shout and, in sheer panic, you stepped on the gas, forcing the car to scream as it made its way down the road

“Mom, make it stop!” Alex whined as he held his fingers in his ears

“I know, baby, I’m trying...” you kept fidgeting with the stick shift, somehow managing to get the car into gear and speed down the road. A car sped behind you, hitting your back bumper and pushing you forward. You knew it had to be Jeff and he was going to be ruthless, “seat belt, Alex.” You prompted before you sped up as fast as you could manage; there were no cars on the road so you swerved around the road occasionally to evade Jeff’s collision attempts. It didn’t take long until you got into the city, the tell tale L.A. traffic stopping you in your tracks, “no no no no no” you whined, looking behind you for where Jeff was and around for an exit, “hold on sweetie.” You inhaled sharply before switching the car into a gear that seemed to work, at least for the time being, as you jumped the divider and drove on the wrong side of the highway

“MOMMY!” Alex cried

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. Just stay back in your seat okay?” you tried to calm him, sticking your arm out in front of him so he wouldn’t fly forward, “Oh god, I’m breaking so many laws right now, so many laws...” you whispered under your breath, looking in the rear view mirror to find Jeff coming up fast behind you, “You’ve got to be kidding!” He hit you once, just as you were faced with an oncoming car and a helicopter circled overhead. Shit, you sighed, continuing to speed down the highway; hoping you would get out of this alive.

Evan’s P.O.V

“Have you seen this?” Chimney asked as he flew into the kitchen of the Firehouse and turned on the news, “there’s a car chase!”

“Who the hell could be that stupid?” Hen said

“Can you please turn it off?” You barked, rubbing your temples

“We’re not sure exactly who either of the individuals are in these vehicles, but what we can tell you is that the one ahead is a 1967 Mustang with California plates and the one behind is a late model Chevy truck but there are no plates. It appears--”

“Wait, did they say Mustang?” You interrupted the broadcast

“Yeah, why?” Chim said, cocking his eyebrow at you

“Where are they?”

“I-10?”

“That’s Jeff’s car. That means that Katie is in one of those cars...”

“Buck, you don’t know that!” Hen called to you as you ran out of the building

“Maddie,” you called your sister, “you’ve seen the car chase right?”

“Yes, Buck, it’s all over the news” she scoffed

“I need you to keep me in the loop. Any 9-1-1 calls that come in, got it?”

“Evan, you know I can’t--”

“Just do it!” you interrupted before hanging up and jumping in your car. You growled as you weaved through traffic, evading the police cars that soon followed behind you

“SIR, PULL OVER!” a voice boomed over the speaker when you wouldn’t pull over, “PULL YOUR VEHICLE OVER NOW!” You started to speed up but when another cruiser stopped in front of you, you almost crashed into it. You put your hands out the window as they approached you

“You don’t understand,” you pleaded, “I have to follow the car chase”

“Watch it on T.V., like everyone else...”

“I need to get to them. My girlfriend is in one of those cars, she’s in trouble!”

“I’d say so. She broke the law, big time. Then again, so did you.” you rolled your eyes before asking them to call Athena

“Athena Grant” you pleaded but they just shoved you into the back of the cop car and took you to the station. Damn it

Katie’s P.O.V

The gears were starting to really grind and you couldn’t focus on anything because the sound was too loud

“UGH!” you groaned as you tried to not only outrun Jeff but keep your son safe. You looked in the rear view mirror just as Jeff rammed into the back of the car and you spun around before the car collided with another at the intersection; luckily it hit your side and not where Alex was sitting but when you came to, you saw that the windshield had been broken and you couldn’t find your son. Fearing he might have flew through the glass, you looked around outside, finding Jeff holding Alex near the edge of a bridge

“Why did you run, Katerina?” Jeff yelled

“Let him go!”

“You betrayed me, my love...” he frowned

“I didn’t betray you,” you yelled, “and I’m not your love!”

“What is it about this boy that makes everyone crazy?” he said angrily, “It turned Jesse into a weak, careless man. It turned you into a backstabbing bitch. Why?”

“Let him go. Please” you begged

“Step away from the boy!” The Police said as they circled around. You moved slowly toward them, trying your best to get Jeff to let Alex go

“He doesn’t know the cruelty of the world yet,” you said, “don’t let this be how he experiences life now. Through nothing but fear...”

“What happens if he dies?” Jeff said easily, like it was second nature, and your chest filled with sorrow, fearing for your son’s life more and more with every passing second

“I die, too,” you said simply, a tear falling from the corner of your eye at your confession, “I can’t live without him. I won’t.”

“Sir, step away from the edge and give us the boy!” a Police officer shouted once more as you stepped even closer to Jeff and Alex

“Well, Katie,” he sighed, “I guess you’ll have to --” His words were cut off by a bullet striking his chest

“NO!!!!” you flew forward, crashing onto the ground just in time to to grab Alex’s arm, watching as Jeff’s body splashed into the water below. Alex screamed as your nails dug into his skin, “hold on baby, don’t let go!” Your weight shifted forward and you felt a sudden pain in your side, you must have landed on something when you jumped on the ground but you couldn’t let Alex see you in pain

“Mommy, I’m scared!” he screamed, crying as he flailed in your grasp, hanging over at least a 50 foot drop.

“I know, baby, I’m scared too,” you admitted, wincing slightly at whatever was digging in your side, “but you’re so so brave. You’re my beautiful brave boy and I need you to keep being brave okay?”

“Okay” he sniffled

“Can you do that for me?” You repeated, Alex nodded in response while you listened to the commotion behind you. You thought you heard someone calling 9-1-1 but you could only hope that your arms were strong to hold onto Alex until they got here. “Alex, baby,” you said through strained breaths, “hold onto to me with both of your hands okay?”

“Okay” he hesitated as he brought his other arm up to grab your hand, his small hands wrapping around your wrist

“That’s it,” you smiled, “okay baby. Now we have to be very still. Help is on the way so just be very very still, as still as you can.” He nodded, looking straight ahead and you just hoped he wouldn’t look down; you rested your head on the concrete to take the strain off of your neck for a moment when you heard the sirens coming. Thank you, you said under your breath to no one in particular, but when you heard a sound closer than the siren, you jerked your head up to find a news helicopter trying to capture you on camera.

“MOMMY!” Alex screamed as he wiggled beneath

“ALEX, STOP MOVING!” you urged, panicking as you tried to lift him up or, at the very least, not drop him, reaching your your other arm to grab him, screaming at the sudden intense pain in your side. You felt like you were going to pass out from whatever you just did but you had to hold on to Alex, so you waited for the firefighters to show up and the helicopter to move further away.

“Miss? Miss? Can you hear me?” a familiar voice called out but with all the other sounds in the background, you couldn’t quite make out who it was, “someone needs to get that bird out of here. What are they t-- Miss, everything is going to be okay, we got you.”

“Bobby?” you said when you finally recognized his voice

“Katie?” he exclaimed and you turned to look at him, smiling when you saw his face

“Bobby, it’s you...” you let out a sigh of relief

“It’s me, it’s us.” He spoke as calmly as he could, having to yell over the noise around you, “We’re gonna get you and Alex out of here but I need you to stay still for a little while longer okay?”

“Bobby?” you called him back before he could leave, “you need to take Alex. I can’t let him see me die...”

“You’re not going to die” he promised and you creased your forehead, eyebrows pulling together empathetically

“Take him, Bobby, please, before he falls...” you pleaded but Alex started to wriggle again, “Alex, baby, stop moving please. Look, Bobby’s here to help us”

“I can’t hold on, mama” he cried

“Yes, you can, baby,” you said calmly, “listen to me. You’re so brave, your father was terrified of heights”

“He was?” Alex replied, seemingly distracted by your statement

“Yes,” you laughed, feeling Bobby’s eyes on you as you spoke to your son, “he never could’ve done as amazing as you’re doing right now. He would’ve panicked and fallen but not you. You’ve kept so calm, I know you’re scared buddy. That’s okay. It’s okay to be scared. You’re doing so well, being so brave. But I need you to keep staying still, like I told you before, remember? So that you don’t slip and so Bobby can come get you. I promise, I’m not going to let go until I know they’ve got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, everything is going to be okay. We’re gonna make it baby, together. I promise.” You nodded, your long hair falling in front of your face so you could only see from your one eye facing Bobby. He signalled to someone on the other side that they were good to go down while he talked to you

“Alright, Katie, we’ve got Alex. You can let go now” he said softly

“You’ve got him?” you spoke to whoever was on your other side

“I’ve got him, you can let go Katie” Eddie’s voice spoke to you and you exhaled for the first time in what felt like days, dropping your head onto the concrete

“Thank you” you sobbed quietly.

“Cap, we got a problem here,” you heard Chimney say, likely noticing the cut in your side, “she’s loosing a lot of blood.”

“Let’s get her on her back. Gently. 1.. 2.. 3!” Bobby counted as they helped you onto your back

“Looks like a piece of glass...” Hen started

“The cars..” you said, “we crashed... I had to jump so Alex didn’t fall”

“Alright,” she whispered, “it’s alright. Save your breath okay?” You nodded as Hen took Bobby aside and you were left with Eddie and Chimney

“Where’s Alex?” you panicked

“He’s in the Ambulance, he’s okay.” Chimney said

“You did great, kept him calm the whole time” Eddie added

“He’s okay? Is he hurt?” you asked again

“He’s fine. Little bump on the head” Eddie replied but you could tell he was lying to calm you.

“Where’s Evan?” you asked, realizing he wasn’t there

“He’s... not working today” Chimney said

“He’s always working” you chided as Hen and Bobby made their way to you so she could examine your wound, pressing on your ribs until you cried out in pain

“It looks like Traumatic Pneumothorax” she said

“Ooh... big words..” you tried to laugh, “what does that mean?” Suddenly, you began coughing violently, so much so that you were coughing up blood and the team had to put you on your side

“Katie, Katie!” Bobby called to you and you outstretched your hand to take his

“Make sure Alex is okay, I’ll be fine..” you said before more blood coated your lips and forced its way out of your body. Eddie urged you to keep your arm over your head so they could help you

“KATIE!” you could swear you heard Evan calling to you. The panic in his voice almost as present as it was in yours when you were looking for Alex, “KATIE!” there it was again only this time, Bobby’s voice was added to it

“Buck, stop. Listen, you need to stay back. Go check on Alex, we’ve got this,” you heard Bobby say before Evan tried to argue his way to you, “we’ve got this. Go check on Alex...” You began looking around, noticing a tall body beside Hen as she said they were going to put you on a gurney. You furrowed your brow as you watched this figure follow you into the Ambulance and you were slowly able to discern the clothes they were wearing. When it finally clicked in your mind that you were seeing Jesse, a stream of tears fell from your eyes

“Katie?” Chimney asked when he saw the tear fall, “what’s wrong?” The team watched as you stared at the empty space where you saw your dead husband

“I’m not a religious person,” you started, in almost a whisper as your throat was so dry you couldn’t speak too loudly, “my mom is. She used to take me to church every Sunday growing up”

“That’s okay..” Bobby replied, trying to get you to stop talking

“She believed it all. God, Angels, Heaven, Hell, Demons, The Devil...” you continued, still looking at Jesse’s face who had contorted to a loving smile to a sympathetic frown, “but she never believed in ghosts. I never knew why. I believe in ghosts, I always did. So I asked her one day--” Your eyes still not leaving the empty space beside Eddie

“Katie, you need to conserve your breath” Eddie pleaded softly

“She told me that ghosts were just the Devil’s way of playing tricks on us...” You finally looked at Bobby, who scrunched his eyebrows together before noticing your eyes drifting, “so why.. spielt der Teufel mir einen Streich?” The words were whispered so softly that you weren’t even sure if anyone heard them before your sight went completely dark and you could only hear your husband’s voice calling to you.

Evan’s P.O.V

When you showed up at the hospital, you tried to find where Katie but found her mom talking to the 118 instead

“Leny!” you called

“Evan!” she smiled, greeting you with a hug

“Have you heard anything?” you asked

“Not yet,” Helena said, gesturing back to Hen who had been talking to her before you showed up, “but Henrietta was just telling me something about what Katie said when she was in the ambulance”

“We think it was German” she added

“We didn’t understand it, it sounded like she was asking for Sprite?” Chimney continued

“Sprite?” Leny said confused

“It sounded like gibberish in all honesty, I heard why spilled toy fuel mine strike?” Hen said

“Spilled.. what was she saying before that?”

“She was talking about ghosts and you and religion?” Eddie added

“Spielt der Teufel mir einen Streich” she said under her breath

“What does that mean?” you asked

“Why is the Devil playing tricks on me...” She answered before dropping her head, “she must have seen something to make her think of that. I haven’t said that to her in ages. Not since she was a little girl...”

“Are any of you with Katie Richardson?” the doctor asked and the entire group stepped forward

“I’m her mother” Leny stated so the doctor could speak to her, you asked if you could go into the room with them and the doctor reluctantly agreed

“She was stable enough for us to do a blood transfusion. She punctured her left lung and, with the way her body was being stretched to keep her son from falling, the glass, or whatever cut through her, came dangerously close to her heart. You should know, your daughter had marks on her wrists and ankles that appear to be from being chained something -- her son has these as well...”

“Oh my god” she whispered

“I understand that the two of them were missing for some weeks, correct?” He asked and you nodded as Leny dropped her head on your shoulder, “it appears that she sustained a number of injuries. She had broken ribs on her right side, she’s badly bruised across her entire body. She has cuts and scrapes on her arms and legs and a small crack on her skull, likely from the car accident”

“Does Alex have these injuries too?” she asked

“No.” The doctor stated, dropping his eyes, “He has some injuries but no broken bones, no cracked ribs. It appears that her injuries are defensive. She was likely protecting her son whenever and, however, she could”

“Is she alright?” she questioned, “can we see her?”

“She’s still asleep. We’ve had to intubate her, so she won’t be able to speak when she wakes up”

“Can we just sit in with her?” you pleaded

“Everyone out there is with her?” he asked

“Yes” you replied

“I can only allow one person at a time.” You led Leny out of the room before the doctor stopped you

“Doc?”

“I’m assuming you’re the husband?” he said, giving you Katie’s ring they must have had to take off and you nodded because you didn’t want to explain, “your wife is very strong. To have sustained those injuries and still maintain the presence of mind to look after her son? It’s remarkable.” You thanked him before joining the group outside, waiting for when it would be your chance to see Katie.

“Thank you all,” you addressed the group that eagerly sat in the waiting room, “for getting them here safely. For taking such good care of them...”

“Just doin’ our job, Bucko” Chimney joked

“I mean it,” you continued, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if either of them... I was going crazy not knowing.” They comforted you as you took your own place in the waiting room before you were finally able to see Katie, sitting in a chair as she slept, slipping her engagement ring back onto her finger, “I’m so sorry, Katie,” you whispered, holding her hand in yours, “that I wasn’t there for you. That I couldn’t find you sooner...” You fell asleep almost as soon as you dropped your head onto her arm; you hadn’t fully slept since Katie and Alex went missing so having them both back and safe allowed you the peace of mind to finally fall asleep.

14 notes · View notes

risingsouls · 3 years

Text

Conversations: 5

[I finally finished this. They kept wanting to keep talking and I struggled to figure out where to end it :’3. So it’s a dumb end but fitting lolol. I also got to reference the one of my favorite things I’ve written about Vegeta which I will shamelessly plug here.

Also I edited this while like half asleep so forgive me for typos and shit.

Bonus end: Vegeta returns and carried her to her bed because I’m a sap and this is my OTP. ;3;]

“Want anything to drink?” Nabooru pulled the fridge open and leaned down, considering her own options. “I’ve got pretty much anything in here: water, juice, soda, alcohol.”

Vegeta lowered himself onto one of the couches, watching her disappear behind the island’s counter separating the kitchen and the living room. He folded his arms and crossed his right ankle over his left knee. “Whatever’s fine.”

When his day began, even after the tumultuous morning he suffered at Capsule Corp., he never would have imagined he would follow Nabooru home, spend time with her outside of sparring seated comfortably on her couch, or consider staying in the guest room she offered. To spare his pride at least for the first few times (if it became something regular at all; that_ he had yet to decide), he planned to train later than her and return while she slept. However, he had every intention of ensuring she made good on her promise and explain her earlier claim, her motive behind the almost too generous offer.

“Don’t think you’ve gotten out of answering my question from earlier.”

Truthfully, she hoped he had forgotten. She fished out a few bottles of water and considered the coming task at hand. Standing, she closed the refrigerator and opened the freezer, pulling out a barely touched bottle of whiskey. A gift from Nappa. “Of course you didn’t.” Opening the cabinet, she grabbed two glasses and filled them with the amber liquid. She wasn’t about to tell this particular story without a little help nor would she drink alone. She idly wished she had waited to change from her training clothes to the dull orange camisole and a pair of dark gray shorts; at least that would offer her another chance to stall.

She picked up each glass, holding them by the lip between her thumb and forefinger, and, after a second thought, tucked the bottle of whiskey beneath her other arm along with the pair of water bottles. “You sure you don’t want to change or something? Take a shower?” She placed one glass of whiskey and bottle of water in front of him on the circular table before taking a seat on the couch across from him on the other side. “I could probably talk to Lanu about potentially fixing your armor, too. She’s good at that sort of thing.”

“You’re stalling.” His glare slid from her to the drinks offered to him. He snorted when he caught a whiff of the alcohol. If her attempts to distract him weren’t evidence enough to it, the liquor more than solidified the fact that the story was not one she was fond of telling. It seemed to be their normal vein of conversation if the topic didn’t revolve around fighting. “I don’t have anything here to change into, and I’m not wearing your clothes or some other stupid suggestion you might come up with. Now talk.”

“Have you just been dwelling on this all day?” she huffed, disappointed her every tactic fell flat. She swirled the liquid around in the glass, considering where to begin. “I’ll have to give you a little background to how I ended up in that state of mind…”

She shrugged the stap of her tank top back up onto her shoulder. The story at hand would force her to delve back into her most painful memories. Those that started the unfortunate domino effect that forced her into tough scenarios and even tougher decisions. Many of which she wondered if she chose correctly and the potential alternates kept her up at night. Those loose ends left untied that niggled at her mind and perturbed her.

"You remember how I told you that our king had planned to overthrow Hyrule and likely take it over himself?"

Vegeta nodded once. Though most of those who thought they knew him best would protest, the Saiyan prince remembered more details about the people around him than he let on. As long as he deemed it useful or the more rare occasions he found it actually interesting. Her story fell under both categories.

Nabooru considered a swig of her whiskey but held off. Her chest felt too tight, even after all these years. It was almost laughable, her claims questionable. A woman whose very purpose in life for as long as she could remember was to serve and protect her people, to pull them from the deepening pit they found themselves in and better their lives and allow them something sustainable that didn't rely on scavenging and scraping by. Who had pride and passion in them, who admired their ambitious but equally passionate king committing the highest crime against the two things she held most dear.

"As his second in command, he trusted me with his plans. It started as a wild dream chasing an artifact I'm still not sure exists that could grant a wish to help us to...something darker. More dangerous. I saw him change right before my eyes over those years. He became obsessed, and the line between helping our people and securing power became blurry." Now she took a drink, the burn of it easily disregarded in conjunction with the pain of memory. "Our relationship aside, it worried me. It all felt dangerous and wrong, a power not meant for us or any other mortal. He not only endangered himself on this quest, but I saw how it could further endanger our people. The Hylians believed we worshipped our kings like gods anyway, so it wasn't a far leap for them to assume that, should Ganondorf fail or be found out, that we would rise up and try to finish what he started. Give them more reason to hate us and incite violence against us with a more solid stance than they held previously.

"Had we not suffered so much in the war, if Hyrule's alliances with the other races remained more tenuous and their hate for us was a little milder, maybe I would have had his optimism in the plan, knowing we could defend ourselves if things went wrong. I hadn't yet fully seen the walls we faced in resolving our differences diplomatically, and that is, unfortunately, where my optimism had lain. We argued plenty about his obsession with the Triforce, but it wasn't until I found out that, in order to obtain whatever he needed to gain access to it, he had attacked the other races when they wouldn't comply. Such show of force when we were all meant to be unified, such violence of degrees that could severely damage whole communities, wouldn't go unnoticed or swept under the rug. That is when I knew I had to stop him." She felt as though she was back in that moment in the Spirit Temple, face to face with Ganondorf for one of the last times. The weight of her decision to defy and actively try to stop him crushing. What that decision meant by their law.

"And I did try to stop him and sabotage his plans. I gave him the impression that, at his warning and what he considered mercy, I was self-exiling myself to avoid execution. I disappeared into the desert for several days before returning to our temple which he had since closed off to use as his base of operations. I defied the orders set that all Gerudo stay away from the temple, information I gathered from Aveil when I returned to the fortress first. None of them knew I had even been technically exiled, likely so he could save face and maintain the appearance that he wasn't up to something they might not like. But, when I returned to the temple, I was captured by his mothers and imprisoned, set to face trial for treason against our king and our people, the only things that truly mattered to me."

Sipping at his own drink, Vegeta didn't miss the twisting of her expression when she uttered the word treason. The pieces of her history were clicking together far more succinctly than they had with the first telling that lacked these more...personal details. He supposed they hadn't been needed to answer his first question about who filled the role of Frieza in her life to answer it sufficiently. He employed similar tactics when he could get away with the bare bones of the information, either to protect himself or avoid discussing matters he didn't care to or found irrelevant. Though he could not relate to her dismay of betraying her king and country, as he never got the chance to do so, and betraying Frieza hadn't required much emotional searching. All he had to fear was death for the attempt, and he never particularly felt alive during that time, anyway. She faced her entire people's scrutiny and the personal shame of turning on her king and by proxy them, which likely called her trustworthiness and allegiance into question. Among other things.

“And yet you weren’t executed, obviously.”

Nabooru sensed the hint of impatience; she supposed she should have warned him the preamble was a lengthy one. It wouldn’t deter her from telling the tale correctly. “No. I was given a trial and we both told our sides of the story. My service to the Gerudo in the past and genuine concern apparently helped me avoid outright execution, much to Ganondorf’s disappointment. He and the Elite instead sentenced me to the Kavi Dorova, a cave that leads to a series of unknown challenges. No one had ever survived it, so it was as good as a death sentence. On the off chance I did survive, I could return to the Gerudo with my rank intact.”

Vegeta snorted. “I take it your king had little faith you would survive, then. Or he planned to strip you of your rank on the off chance you returned despite the judgement.”

“I never got to find out,” she replied, chewing the inside of her lip. She drained her glass and refilled it. “He was gone by the time I healed up after the ordeal. Which is where your question comes into play.

“I don’t know how long I had been down there or how far I had gotten. Each fight was harder and felt more pointless than the last with more numerous and powerful monsters each time. Half of them I didn’t even recognize. I was starving, dehydrated, had sustained more injuries than I could count, and had almost been frozen to death by some ice beast. As I tried to rest, curled around the lone torch in the room for warmth, I was ready to give up. Nothing mattered to me any more. Not my pride or my people, not fighting or my talent as a warrior. None of it had saved me down there and I was ready to just perish. It would be easier than going on. Easier than facing the Gerudo again if I ever escaped that hell."

She rested her back against the cushions. "But...I was never one to just settle for easy. I was too stubborn to let that pit beat me. Somehow, I fought on. I remembered what my people had suffered and, despite the hole they tossed me into and a fair portion of them wanting me killed on the spot, I had dedicated my life to being a Gerudo warrior and protecting them. I convinced myself I had to get back and make good on that promise no matter what they thought of me.

"The last things I remember is nearly being gutted by a Darknut, stabbing him with its own sword, and dragging myself on the ground toward a light. Aveil said they found me barely alive outside the cave and losing a lot of blood. I woke up to finding out Ganondorf had been captured and arrested and that I would have to take over as leader."

The Gerudo's laugh was short, bitter, and she took another hearty swig of the whiskey. A position she never thought she would ascend to since a king sat on the throne in her lifetime. She wanted to feel honored, but the increasingly hostile environment she awoke to made the promotion a bittersweet one. Between a split tribe at home and fighting a losing battle for the barest of scraps to help her people abroad, it was a wonder how she didn't snap and lead them into that losing war anyway.

"It didn't take long for that confidence to waver. I quickly realized that the monsters down there were far easier to combat than those I found on the surface: I didn't feel guilty about killing them for my survival."

"Guilt is a pain, isn't it?" He smirked at her and poured himself another glass of the whiskey. "I'm sure you would have felt much more satisfied if you tore through the bastards that wronged you like you did those beasts in the pit. I may not have gotten Frieza, but I killed three of his best men who were almost as bad along with the better portion of his special forces."

To his surprise, Nabooru smiled herself, and she laughed softly. "I'm not sure there's a day that doesn't go by that I fantasize about it. That I don't play out potential strategies in my head that might have brought us success. I even drew a few up when I was bored once. Burned them but…" She trailed off and raised her hand, palm to the ceiling. An orange-to-yellow gradient ball of ki materialized atop it. "The others seem happy enough here. Safe might be a strong word, but learning ki has helped us stay protected."

Save for the one time they all died apparently. The lack of memory of that event still bothered her. Another story she wanted to press from Vegeta if she got the chance.

"If we had this knowledge back then...for our whole existence…" She closed her fist around the glowing energy, dissipating it in a small shower of sparks. "I wonder how things would have been different…"

The prince understood those longings, the constant wondering what could have been done better, what one aspect could change the outcome of his life. Back when he served Frieza and before. In more recent memory. He knew it was all pointless conjecture, and he suspected she did, too. But it didn't stop them from wondering about the lives they, perhaps, should have had.

"Chances are some bastard like Frieza or his brother Cooler would take interest in your warrior race and forced you into their servitude. And if you were lucky, they would leave more than a few of you alive to serve in their army." Lucky. he had come to despise that word since Frieza used it in regards to him not being blasted to bits with the rest of his race. "Lucky might be a strong word, though."

Nabooru sipped her whiskey, glad for the warmth and lightness it began to provide. She should stop, if only for the risk of facing the consequences in the morning, but, as if in direct defiance of her own thoughts, she finished off the glass and poured another. "You're probably right." Shifting to the side, she rested her weight against the arm of the couch and stretched her legs out to the side of her, tracing the rim of her glass with her finger. "Tell me about those guys you killed. Like how you did it. Maybe I can live vicariously through you."

“Is that how that works?” Vegeta snorted and drained his second glass, filling it again to join her on the third round. He wondered at the strength of this liquor. Earth’s typical fare didn’t usually affect him after two drinks. He wouldn’t describe himself as tipsy yet by any means, but he was willing to blame the alcohol for silently turning their casual conversation over drinks into a contest. “Fine.That was the better half of that damn trip to Namek…”

Before everything went horribly wrong, and, when he saw her tilt her head slightly to the side and her lips part to ask what he meant by that, he drew her focus back to the first request. Strange as it was, considering what he gathered from her thus far.

“Let’s see…” He raised a glove hand, casting the bare tips of a few of his fingers a fleeting glare. “I blew up Cui and Dodoria. Blew a hole through Zarbon.” He ticked each one off on his fingers. “I decapitated Guldo, knee dropped Burter in the throat, and blasted Recoome and Jeice to oblivion.” He decided not to mention that Recoome and Burter had been incapacitated by Kakarot in an impressive display of speed and strength prior to his finishing blows.

“Wow…” None of the names meant much to her, but she had no trouble believing those men who served a monster like Frieza so loyally possessed the same mindset he did. And if Vegeta found issue with them and he wasn’t exactly a glowing beacon of kindness and fairness, unless he was outright lying which she doubted on this, she had no reason to question that they had caused him and perhaps the other remaining Saiyans trouble while they were in Frieza’s service. “Sounds like you did have a good day, then.”

He draped his free arm over the back of the couch. “Did that satisfy you?”

Nabooru had to bite back a giggle, the haze of alcohol in her mind sliding it toward the gutter. “Not in the way I was hoping, unfortunately. But what made the rest of that trip so horrible?"

"Besides Kakarot becoming a Super Saiyan before me and killing Frieza?" He tapped his chest near his heart. "Frieza killed me. Don't give me that look. It didn't last long. Kakarot's idiot friends accidentally revived me with the Dragonballs because they wished everyone killed by Frieza and his men back to life. That included me."

Nabooru did her best to wipe the stunned expression from her face, and her gaze followed his hand. With a chunk of his armor missing, she could just make out the jagged edge of a faded scar. He really just didn't catch many breaks, did he?

She finished off the drink in her hand and set the glass on the table before slumping further into the couch to sprawl out more comfortably on her side. "For what it's worth, I'm glad they messed that up." The words left her lips before she could stop them, and, though she hated how sappy they sounded, she supposed the truth in them made them worth uttering. "I mean...we wouldn't have met otherwise, and I wouldn't have a training partner that could help me improve as much as you have."

“Hmpt, how flattering…” He didn’t doubt her words. With staging her tournament and with those who answered her call, she could have requested a sparring partner from many of the other combatants that would provide her at least entertainment if not a challenge to her unexpected strength. And with Kakarot there as well…

“Why did you ask me over Kakarot, anyway? You had the chance to ask him to train with you, and you didn’t.”

Nabooru propped her elbow beneath her and rested her head on her palm. The question wasn't out of place; even he begrudgingly admitted Goku surpassed him in strength, so it would make sense she seek out the most powerful person to train with. Instead, she had chosen him. Second place over first.

"It was just a guess, but I figured you would be a better trainer for me. Close to the hardened, take no prisoners style of training and fighting I'm used to. I doubted Goku would push me as far as you could. And after finding out that you and I had a similar story in some ways..." She shrugged a shoulder. "Besides, I guess I'm a little biased still after watching the two of you fight that clown android. I know Goku wasn't exactly at full capacity but...well, watching you tear that thing to scrap, feeling the drastic rise of your energy when you transformed...I guess it just stuck with me after all these years. Not to mention your performance in the Warrior Games."

Vegeta had forgotten she had shown up to that fight, no matter how briefly she remained among their band of eould-be heroes. He had been too focused on dismantling a couple androids to pay her much mind. Perhaps if he had, he would have had a competent sparring partner all this time. Decent company, too. His mindset had been so different back then, more erratic and laser focused on his one goal...would he have even bothered should she have asked him to train with her before she returned to her people that day? After the Cell Games? Had she sought him out before her own tournament?

“You were likely correct. Kakarot is too soft to properly train and spar with anyone. He would be too afraid of hurting you, even though you’ve proven you’re more than capable of taking hard hits.” Nabooru stifled a yawn, and the Saiyan noted her heavy eyelids with mild annoyance. “Are you drunk already, woman?”

She stretched languidly and giggled. “No, I’m just a little tipsy.” A slight fib; she had forgotten Nappa’s warnings and her own singular experience with the liquor he gifted her. The effects of it snuck up on her and caught her off guard each time. “Mind your own business. I’m fine.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes and stood, arching his back to stretch his spine. He finished off his drink and snatched up the bottle before she could try to make herself another. She reached out a whole two second too late to stop him and he snorted. “Your shit reaction time says otherwise.” He strode to the kitchen and slid the bottle back into the freezer. “Drink your water and go to bed. I’m going back out to train and no, you can’t come with me.”

Her whine devolved into another fit of giggles and she flopped onto her back. “Training I can’t help with, huh? Just let me know if you do need an extra hand.”

Vegeta paused with his hand on the door knob, the meaning of her suggestion dawning on him far too slowly. He swiped his other hand over his face. “Don’t be crude. Go to bed.”

She flipped him off with a lazy grin. “Goodnight, Vegeta. Don’t have too much fun without me~.”

He merely groaned in response and slipped back out into the cool desert night, door slamming behind him.

#:: nabooru ☀#// vegeta ♅#two dumb idiots is all this is #but i love them both #separately and together #and im a weak bitch #and for all you that know zelda #the kavi dorova is basically the gerudo translation i made up for the cave of ordeals #from twilight princess xD

6 notes · View notes

pplydm · 3 years

Text

ePUB #70

Title: Sometimes I Lie

Author: Alice Feeney

Sometimes I Lie is the debut novel of Alice Feeney. It wouldn't surprise me if it was heaped praise on many thriller book video blogs because there are definitely mind blowing plot twists in it. Sometimes I Lie was impressive in portraying obnoxious characters. Had me assessing if Claire and Amber's personalities occur in reality life or if so, how many turn out alike them? No doubt there were abundance of lies to be detected once a reader finishes the novel. The pacing was medium and two specific chapter even deeply shocked me. This may be disturbing, agonizing and mind-bending all in one read.

I thought I'd answer reading group discussions. (spoilers ahead)

1. "Sometimes I lie." Amber lies to so many people throughout the novel—her husband, her sister, her colleagues, even herself. Do you think she always knew when she was lying? Don’t we all tell lies from time to time? Is it just human nature to tweak the truth?

> Amber's lying is intentional. It may be human nature but it still a matter of free will.

2. "It took a lot of love to hate her the way I do." Amber spent over 20 years believing that Claire was keeping her safe, but does she love her? In Claire’s mind, the way she isolates and controls Amber is love—she genuinely thinks she’s being protective. But is it love or fear that destroys their relationship in the end?

> The love Amber mentions is just unwholesome. Murder involved in love is not love, in my opinion. Fear didn't destroy their relationship.

3. Who is the real villain of this story? Madeline? Edward? Claire? Or Amber?

> Amber is the final villain. Claire groomed her though.

4. "I stand in front of the large range oven with my arms bent at the elbows. My fingers form the familiar shape: the index and middle finger finding the thumb on each hand. I whisper quietly to myself, whilst visually checking that everything is switched off, my fingernails clicking together. I do it again. I do it a third time." Amber’s OCD started after the fire in 1992. What other displays of OCD can you remember from the novel? How successful is Amber at hiding it from those around her?

> Her checking purse and keys is another example. Amber hid it excellently because she mostly got away with it.

5. What was your favorite twist in the novel?

> The one which I guessed prior to it happening.

6. "People say there’s nothing like a mother’s love, take that away and you’ll find there is nothing like a daughter’s hate." How much are the parents of both girls to blame for who their daughters grew up to become? Did you get the impression that Claire’s parents knew what she was capable of in the childhood diaries? Can Amber’s mother be forgiven for taking Claire in and wanting to save her despite how it made Amber feel? "I am the daughter they always had."

> The parents nurturing be blamed only partially. I didn't get the impression Claire would. Yes, Amber's mother can be forgiven.

7. The color red is mentioned over 60 times in the novel (stolen red pens, red studio lights, red toothbrush, lipstick, traffic lights, wine, blood, and the robin’s red breast are just some examples). What other themes did you spot?

> I only noticed that one.

8. "For today’s phone-in, we’re inviting you to get in touch on the subject of imaginary friends… "Were you surprised to discover that Jo was an imaginary friend? When Jo leaves the hospital shortly before Amber wakes up, we never see her again. Why was Amber finally able to let her go at this point in her life?

> I hinted on Jo being unreal but not imaginary. Amber finally let her go because she probably had no use for Jo anymore.

9. "I can do 'Amber the friend,' or 'Amber the wife,' but right now it’s time for 'Amber from Coffee Morning.'" Don’t we all play different roles in life? Do you behave differently with your family/friends/colleagues? Do you feel able to be yourself with everyone you know?

> We do play different roles in life. Yes I behave differently. I feel able to be myself with immediate family members only.

10. "His success broke him and his failure broke us." Paul and Amber’s marriage is in trouble at the start of the novel—his struggles with his writing, her losing her TV reporter job, and their inability to have a child all seem to play a part. Why are they happier at the end? What "fixes" them?

> They're happier in the end because of selflessness and compromises. The near-death experience of Amber 'fixes' them.

11. Did you enjoy the nursery rhymes in the book?

> They didn't matter.

12. "I hate hospitals. They are the home of death and regrets that missed their slots." What regrets do you think Amber is referring to when she says this? Do you think any other characters in the novel have regrets?

> Amber's regret probably is being prevented from fighting for herself and speaking out about people harassing her. Paul has regrets too.

13. Let’s talk about that ending!

> The ending is part of the plot twists.

Nana always said that books made better friends than people anyway. Books will take you anywhere if you let them, she used to say, and I think she was right.

Nana used to say that if you didn't let the tears out of you they can turn to poison.

I've learned it's best to just hold on to what you've got.

The truth is I just don't like many people, not really. Everyone you meet is inevitably flawed. Once I know someone well enough to see all the cracks and blemishes, I don't really want to spend time with them any more.

#books and libraries #books #alice feeney #sometimes I Lie #currently reading #reading #literature #suspense #thriller #contemporary #novels #goodreads review #book reviews #reading discussions

1 note · View note

plus-size-reader · 4 years

Text

Road Trip

Negan x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1200 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Negan’s favorite wife wants to see Alexandria, so the power couple goes on a little bit of a road trip.

———————————————————————————————————

You were, by far, Negan’s favorite wife.

Everyone knew it...and you didn’t really care. You were the smartest, most loyal, and most equipped to survive on your own. Unlike the other girls, you didn’t need Negan to provide for you.

You just let him.

Maybe the difference didn’t matter much to them but it mattered to Negan.

You were strong, you were cunning, and it didn’t hurt that you were sexy as hell.

He knew that he wanted to make you his from the moment he laid eyes on you but you had made him work for it. Shit, he had spent months just trying to get on your good side after the Saviors rescued you on the road.

You were adamant about not needing him, and you didn’t. You did, however, like him as much as you tried to fight it.

It was hard not too.

For every bit as bad and demanding as he was, he was that much more sexy and kind...when he wanted to be. You just had to follow the rules and stay on his good side.

In reality, he was a pretty fair guy.

People only had to die when they broke the rules that he’d already clearly laid out before you. And shit, what was death in a world like this? If someone had to die, it was just another corpse shambling around.

There was, however, one thing you loved more than anything.

-Visiting the communities that the Saviors saved.

Negan had made it a hard and fast rule to not let any of the girls leave the sanctuary in any case but you were always about to negotiate those terms with Negan.

Shit, all you had to do was bat your eyelashes at him and he’d melt like butter on a hot tin roof.

You liked to be where the action was. You liked to experience the world outside the walls that Negan had built...it was far more exciting. The last thing you wanted was to spend all day listening to Amber crying or Sherry’s endless bitching.

You would sooner splatter your brains all over the concrete.

Part of you wondered if Negan knew that, if that was why he agreed so readily to take you with him. In fact, it wasn’t until you arrived at the gates of Alexandria that you put all the pieces together.

Negan talked about Alexandria, and Rick, all the time when you two were just lounging around. Something about this place was much more personal than any other settlement that he’d taken over.

He wanted to show off.

“Open up Rick, I’ve got a little surprise” he called, banging on the door a little bit with Lucille. It clanged a few times before finally opening, which was good news for Rick.

Negan was in a really good mood today, getting to take you with him on a little road trip but that could always sour real quick.

You smiled up at Negan, shifting your weight lightly from your right foot to your left, then back again, probably with nerves. There was no real reason to be, but you couldn’t help it.

Negan had a reputation and he had to keep up with it, and you didn’t want to mess anything up. If you or he showed even a shred of weakness to them, it made you both susceptible to disobedience.

...Which would not be tolerate.

You both had to play up these versions of yourselves that only the people of other settlements got to see. Negan would only speak objectively about you, saving the more tender moments for private and you would show only complete obedience.

It was true that you didn’t like the role you had to play, but that was just how it had to be.

Neither of you could risk an uprising within the other communities.

“Deep breath gorgeous, daddy’s got you” Negan winked, leaning down to capture your lips in a smooch before pulling away, just long enough to smile at you.

It took you a second before you realized what he was doing, pointing gently to the gate which was opening up more and more with each passing second. Then, he grinned again, a wicked glint in his eye.

Without missing a beat, you smashed your lips down on his own, bringing your arms up to the back of his neck to deepen it further. You were really putting on a show for the people but neither of you cared.

In fact, just for good measure you felt Negan’s hand snaking down your waist until it came to rest on the swell of your ass.

You actually got so into it that you almost forgot the context of the kiss but after way too long, you pulled away, breath raging.

It was an efficient greeting, that drew the attention of everyone in all of Alexandria, who had clearly not been expecting you. Hell, most of them had never even seen you before…

Not that it mattered.

“Hiya Rick” Negan greeted, reaching down to take your hand in his free one, the other swinging Lucille at his side. “I brought my two best girls” he teased, leading you behind him.

It was like a grand reveal but you didn’t mind. You looked amazing in the new dress Negan had gotten you and you didn’t have a problem with him showing you off.

It was a strange sort of confidence that could only come from being loved by a man like Negan but you reveled in it. He made you feel like you were made of gold and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

You looked at him for any kind of cue as to what you should do, though you didn’t find one. Instead, he shrugged, giving you the floor “Everybody listen up, my wife has something to say” he grins, putting emphasis on the word ‘wife’ just to make a point.

You smiled, knowing that this was what was going to stick in their heads above all else. It was your chance to really play your role right, “Well, isn’t somebody gonna give me the tour?”

It was a sort of announcement, though it was clearly directed at your leather-wrapped hubby who just grinned. “You heard her, where’s the good shit in this place?” he hummed, handing Rick Lucille so that he could turn his full attention to you.

It was rare to have Negan all to yourself and you were a little spoiled with it right now.

Hell, it probably wouldn’t bother you if you never went back. You could just be Negan’s wife for once, not one of seven.

You knew that Negan was having a good time showing you off to all these people, but he did have other things that he had to take care of, business things, that you didn’t need to be apart of.

So, you did your best to busy yourself with something at least a little productive. You figured that having a little unsupervised walk around Alexandria couldn’t hurt.

There were no dead to eat you alive and with Negan’s men all over, no one would bother you.

#negan #negan x reader #negan x plus size reader #negan x ps reader #negan x plus size wife #The Walking Dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x plus size reader #the walking dead x ps reader #twd #twd x reader #twd x ps reader #twd x plus size reader

204 notes · View notes

emospritelet · 4 years

Text

Desperation - chapter 14/16

Also prompted by @kelyon

[AO3]

Despite how comfy she had found the couch, Belle had to admit that sleeping in a proper bed was better. She stretched her legs out as she woke, enjoying the space around her in the warm sheets, and squinted at her watch. Eight-oh-four. Wow. Guess I needed the sleep.

She lay on her back for a moment, trying to assess how she was feeling. Still no cough, and no tightness in her chest, which was good. She felt a little drained, though, and her limbs ached, so she clearly wasn’t better. Perhaps she simply had a mild case. Lots of people did, after all.

Voices were floating up the stairs: Gold warning Bae to be careful, and not to drop anything. Belle glanced to the side as she heard Bae’s thumping footsteps on the stairs, followed by a knock on the bedroom door.

“Come on in,” she called, and he pushed it open, sidling around the edge of the door with a plate held carefully in his hands.

“I brought you French toast,” he announced. “It has maple syrup on it. We didn’t have fresh berries, but Papa and I went blueberry picking last summer and put them in jars in some sugar syrup, and they’re just as good. And we sliced up a banana from the grocery box.”

Belle sat up with a smile, pushing herself up on the pillows. Her arms wobbled a little, but she managed to get herself into a comfortable position in which to eat. Bae set the plate on the nightstand and stepped back to watch her reaction. Plump, glistening blueberries were scattered across a thick slice of French toast with slices of banana, the whole thing drizzled with amber trails of maple syrup. The toast was golden-coloured, its edges the dark brown of caramel, and she licked her lips.

“It looks delicious,” she said, deciding not to mention that her sense of smell seemed to have abandoned her, and Bae nodded.

“When Papa said you were sick too, I thought maybe you’d want something sweet, like I did,” he explained. “I can’t get apple pie from Granny’s, but maybe this will help.”

“That’s good of you, sweetie,” she said. “I’m okay, really. Just a little tired and achy. I’m sure I’ll feel much better tomorrow. Especially with you taking such good care of me.”

“Papa made the French toast,” said Bae at once. “I just brought it up.”

“Well, it looks yummy.”

She picked up the plate, setting it on her lap, and Bae flopped into the chair, watching as she took a bite. Sweetness burst across her tongue, but she was dismayed that she couldn’t seem to taste much beyond that. I suppose of all the symptoms I could get, loss of taste isn’t too bad in comparison, she thought. Bae was watching her anxiously, and she made noises of enjoyment.

“It’s really good,” she assured him, and he beamed.

“Papa said he’d bring you some tea,” he said. “He says you should stay in bed and let us look after you.”

“And I’m not going to turn him down,” she said. “I’ll do as he suggests. At least for today.”

She cut another piece and popped it in her mouth, and Bae swung his feet restlessly, kicking the chair legs.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school?” she said.

“I’m all set,” he assured her. “Today we find out which dinosaur species we get to read about. I hope I get ankylosaurus. Will you help me do research?”

“Of course I will,” she said. “Do you have any books on dinosaurs?”

“Only one,” he said gloomily. “I wish the library was open now.”

“So do I.” Belle wiped syrup from her plate with a piece of bread. “There’s a ton of information online, though. I’ll help you look.”

“Okay.”

Bae looked more cheerful, and Belle ate another mouthful of toast.

“Do you miss being at school?” she asked. “Playing with your friends?”

“Sometimes.”

“Seeing them on Zoom isn’t the same as playing outside, I guess,” she said, and he shrugged.

“No one’s mean on Zoom, though.”

Belle frowned, chewing a mouthful of French toast.

“Has someone been mean to you?”

Bae shuffled his feet, shrugging again and looking uncomfortable.

“Some of the kids make fun of me because I don’t have a mom,” he said. “They say you can’t have a proper family without a mom and a dad.”

“Well, they’re wrong to say that,” said Belle firmly. “Families come in lots of different shapes and sizes, and there’s nothing to say that you need to have a mom and a dad to be a proper family.”

“That’s what Papa says,” said Bae, looking happier. “They’re just mean. They make fun of Paige, too. She doesn’t have a mom. But she has two dads, so I guess that makes up for it.”

Belle smiled, digging into her toast with a fork.

“I don’t have a mom, either,” she said, and Bae looked interested.

“Did yours leave, like mine did?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“No, she died.”

“Oh.” He looked sad. “Mine just left. She said she’d come back, but she didn’t.”

Belle wanted to hug him.

“Do you remember your mom?” she asked, and he wrinkled his nose.

“Kind of. She had dark hair like you.”

“When did you last see her?”

Bae shrugged, pulling a face.

“She called,” he said. “The Christmas we came to Storybrooke. Papa had put lights up all around the porch, and we just finished decorating the tree, and he was smiling. Then the phone rang and he answered it and he stopped smiling.”

“Did you speak to her?” asked Belle, and he nodded.

“She sounded kind of weird, but she said she’d come visit,” he said. “She said she’d come on Christmas Day and she’d bring me presents, but she never did.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said gently. “That sounds hard. Maybe she’s sorry for what she did. Maybe she’ll come back one day.”

“I don’t want her to,” he muttered, his feet kicking faster. “She’s a liar.”

Belle tried to think of something to say that would help, but the sound of footsteps on the stairs made them both glance around. Gold put his head around the door, a steaming cup of tea in one hand, and smiled.

“Thought I’d bring you some tea,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not too bad,” she said. “If I’ve got the virus, it at least seems to be a mild case.”

“Good.” He came into the room, setting the cup down on the nightstand. “Bae, class starts soon, could you go and brush your teeth, please?”

“Okay.”

Bae gave Belle a wan smile and shuffled out of the room. Gold frowned after him for a moment, but turned back to Belle.

“The hospital is sending out nurses to take tests to try to pin this thing down,” he said. “I put a call in this morning to report all three of us feeling sick. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she said. “It makes sense, if we’re to beat this virus.”

“Positive results might result in longer periods of isolation, that’s all,” he said. “I’m hoping not too long; a lot of people in this town will suffer if they can’t work. But at least it means we won’t infect anyone else.”

“Any word on how the rest of the town’s doing?” she asked, and he eased himself into the chair that Bae had vacated, resting the cane between his legs.

“The Mayor is giving a briefing at six today,” he said. “Should be an update then.”

“Okay.” She put her head to the side. “How are you doing?”

“Still not back to running on all four cylinders, if I’m honest,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Still, no rest for the wicked. I thought I’d finish Granny’s books today, as soon as Bae’s done with school. Can’t get them back to her, but at least it’ll be done for when I can.”

“Don’t exhaust yourself,” she warned. “You look tired. You’re getting over a serious illness, you need to make sure you rest.”

“I will.” He smiled briefly. “The couch isn’t too bad, is it?”

“Not as comfortable as this,” she said, patting the bed beside her. “You could always take a nap, you know. I don’t mind.”

Gold’s tiny smile widened a little, his eyes twinkling.

“What would the neighbours say?”

“Well, I won’t tell them if you won’t,” she said bluntly. “Come on, it’s your bed.”

“Yes, and you’re in it.”

“I don’t mind moving,” she said. “Which side of the bed do you usually sleep on?”

The smile became a grin.

“If I lie down next to you, I won’t get up again.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

Gold shook his head, looking amused, and pushed to his feet.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said, taking her empty plate. “There’s too much to do.”

“Okay, but at least promise me you’ll get some rest later,” she called, as he left the room.

“I promise! Now take your own advice!”

His voice drifted in through the door, and Belle grinned, wriggling down in the bed a little to drink her tea. Gold needed someone to look after him, if he wouldn’t do it himself. The role might as well fall to her, for as long as she was staying with him. Though she suspected he’d want his bed back at some point.

She stayed in bed for most of the day, only getting up when it was time for dinner. Nurses from the hospital had attended, covered from head to toe in protective clothing as they used swabs to take samples from all three in the house. The results were confirmed quickly: three positive tests. Gold answered their questions on the dates when symptoms had first appeared, and on that basis he and Bae were told to observe quarantine for a further seven days, and Belle for fourteen. Gold nodded agreement, looking a little anguished, if not surprised.

Mayor Mills appeared on TV just as they finished dinner, looking poised and sombre in her two-piece suit. She read out the latest figures: two hundred and eighteen cases, twenty-seven residents in a serious condition in hospital, thirteen deaths. After a moment of remembrance for each of the victims, she ran through the latest medical evidence, and what the anticipated numbers would be as the effects of lockdown were assessed.

“Storybrooke has always been a strong community, and this time of crisis is no exception,” she said. “I know the residents of this town will do everything in their power to help keep their neighbours safe and well. If you have been told to extend the quarantine due to positive tests, please do so. I realise that people are concerned about their jobs, and the effect that lockdown is having on their ability to feed their families, but we must all do our part to defeat this virus.”

She looked around, dark eyes flashing, expression one of firm resolve.

“As Mayor, I promise you that I will do all I can to ensure no one goes hungry, and that jobs and businesses recover from this,” she said. “The deliveries of groceries will continue until lockdown ends. I’m meeting virtually with local business owners and medical experts to discuss what needs to be put in place to allow the town to open up safely, and I hope to have some news on that next week.”

The briefing ended, and Gold turned off the TV, leaning back on the couch with a heavy sigh.

“What does it mean?” asked Bae.

“It means you’re probably having Zoom classes for at least another three weeks,” said Gold.

“I don’t mind that too much,” said Bae. “Can I watch TV now?”

Gold passed him the remote, getting up and heading for the kitchen to clean up, and Belle went back upstairs to lie down for ten minutes. She was still aching a little, as though she had been doing hard physical work that day, but she hadn’t developed a fever, and she was hoping that meant that her symptoms were as bad as things would get.

She woke with a start to find that it was almost eleven at night.

Rubbing her eyes, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, yawning widely as she pulled her slippers back on to head to the bathroom. When she had finished washing her hands and had splashed a little water on her face to revive herself, she headed downstairs. Lights were still on in the lower floor of the house, and she was thirsty. Perhaps Gold would join her in a cup of something before turning in.

She found him in the kitchen, seated at the kitchen table with an empty cup beside him. He was tapping away at the laptop, occasionally checking the pad of paper to his right. His brows were lowered, a faint look of desperation on his face.

“Hey,” she said, and he started, looking around.

“Belle.” He smiled, but there was only a weary resignation in it. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” she said. “I feel much better. You?”

“Fine, fine,” he said vaguely, running a hand through his hair.

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

Gold sighed, slumping back in the chair a little.

“Just going through the budget,” he said quietly. “God, I hope the Mayor finds a way to open things up in this town. If she doesn’t, things are gonna be extremely tight around here.”

Belle moved a little closer.

“When you say ‘tight’...”

Gold looked up at her, his expression steady and grim.

“I mean there won’t be a cent to spare,” he said. “It’s gonna eat up everything I managed to put aside against emergencies, and even then I’m gonna have to be very, very creative.”

He shook his head, turning back to the laptop, and Belle wanted to put a hand on his shoulder, to send him some comfort. Her fingers seemed to hesitate, hanging in the air as she watched the light shine on his hair, and eventually she let her hand drop to her side again.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess with the town closed up for weeks, you won’t get many requests for bookkeeping.”

“Not for another few months, I reckon,” he said grimly, looking around. “Those businesses that do manage to open up again, they won’t be in a position to pay me. Things are going to be - stretched.”

“Does this call for more foraging in the woods?” she asked, and he nodded.

“Once we’re allowed out of the house, yes. Can’t pass up free food.”

“At least you know what you’re looking for,” she said. “Maybe you could teach me. I’ll help you pick berries and mushrooms and maybe I won’t poison us all.”

Gold grinned, but there was a weariness to his face, and he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh.

“You may think it’s pleasant, Bae and I growing our own food and foraging in the woods, ” he said. “And it is, don’t get me wrong. I love him and we’re happy in our little house in this little town. But it’s - it’s hard, Belle. Being poor, especially when you’re a single parent, is hard. It’s constant. You can’t take a day off and just - just be. You’re always planning, always thinking. Budgeting down to the last penny, hoarding and making do and cutting coupons or bartering with the neighbours. Hoping and praying that nothing breaks, that you won’t get sick, that you won’t lose work. It’s - it’s a never-ending project that you can’t hand off to anyone else.”

The smile fell from her face at the look in his eyes, an expression that was almost pleading.

“I didn’t mean to make light of it—” she began, and Gold shook his head.

“No, please, that wasn’t a criticism,” he said. “I - well, to be honest, I just wanted to rant for a moment. I can’t do it in front of Bae, you see. I don’t want him to worry.”

“I know you do whatever it takes to make sure Bae doesn’t want for anything,” she said quietly. “You’re a good father. A good man.”

Gold smiled, looking grateful, and eyed the computer screen again.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked. “It - it probably isn’t the best time to have an extra mouth to feed, is it?”

Gold looked around.

“I’m not blaming you, please don’t think that,” he said quickly. “I’m so grateful you stayed with us, Belle, I truly am. It’s just - well…” He gestured helplessly at the spreadsheet on the screen in front of him.

“I can contribute,” she said.

“That’s not necessary…”

“No, please!” she insisted. “You’ve been providing for me since I moved in, and - and I haven’t had to buy any of my own food since I did, and out of the two of us I’m the one still getting paid, so it makes sense I give a little back.”

“You’ve already given us so much,” he said, and she gave him a level look.

“Yeah, but none of that keeps the lights on, does it?” she said. “If you won��t take money, sell me something.”

Gold blinked at her.

“What?”

“Sell me something,” she repeated, and hurried to the larder. “Like… I don’t know, some of that really delicious cherry jam you made. I’d love to eat that in the mornings when I finally head back to my own apartment. How much?”

“Belle…”

“Or - or maybe you could make me something,” she said. “You knit, right? I could use a new sweater.”

Gold fixed her with a flat stare.

“Belle,” he said. “I’m not taking your money. You’ve more than earned a place here. All you’ve done for us - it wouldn’t be right.”

“But—”

“I mean it,” he said firmly. “Please, don’t distress yourself. I’ll find a way. I always do.”

She put her hands on her hips, shaking her head.

“God, you’re stubborn.”

Gold sent her a brief, slanting grin.

“As I recall, you said it was adorable.”

“Almost adorable,” she corrected, and his grin widened.

“I stand corrected.”

Belle sighed, leaning back against the kitchen table, feeling an odd mix of amusement and frustration.

“Don’t suppose there was any wine in that grocery box, was there?” she asked, and he chuckled.

“I’m afraid orange juice was as exciting as it got,” he said, and hesitated. “Actually - I do have a bottle somewhere.”

“Really?”

“Was gonna save it for - well, who knows? Christmas, maybe?”

“Oh, in that case we don’t need to open it,” she said hastily, and he shook his head.

“It’s not as though it’s an expensive bottle,” he said. “Just that I don’t drink a lot, so there seemed little point in opening it just for me. But - well, maybe it would be nice. If you and I had a drink together.”

He looked hesitant, uncertain, and Belle smiled warmly.

“I would like that.”

#asks: desperation #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #sprite's pandemic promptathon #my fic #mrs-stiltskin #fyi i'm teasing you with that prompt #BUT NOT FOR MUCH LONGER

38 notes · View notes

metamorphosies · 3 years

Photo

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . . 𝐄𝐕𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐎. 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑾𝑨𝑵.

27 YEARS OLD. PRINCIPAL DANCER AT THE NEW YORK CITY BALLET.

❛ and that’s no apple but a heart torn out of someone in this myth gone suddenly aztec. this is the possibility of death the snake is offering: death upon death squeezed together, a blood snowball. to devour it is to fall out of the still unending noon to a hard ground with a straight horizon and you are no longer the idea of a body but a body.

❛ this is how you learn prayer. love is choosing, the snake said. the kingdom of god is within you because you ate it. ❜

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋.

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: eva madelena riviere, known professionally as eva miro 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒: swan queen; the swan 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄: march 18th 1934 — 27 years old 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇: arlington, virginia 𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: principal dancer at the new york city ballet 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓: HERE

𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍.

EXT. ARLINGTON / a midsummer day; old southern gothic; dawn breaking over a horizon; the scent of magnolia and vanilla sweetening the air; homemade iced tea at the height of noon; secrets sealed in closed lockets and closed rooms; sun swept afternoons; the feeling of grass beneath your bare feet; wet blood streaked across palms; picking wildflower bouquets; the skeletons buried in the family closet

if this was a fairytale we would begin not at the beginning, but here, in the still antebellum calm before the storm. here is the amber-glaze veneer of old world nostalgia, curled at the edges like a faded photograph; a moment in time slipped between acts, between prelude and prologue: it begins in a garden.

a girl, half-sunbeam and half-wildness, twirls across the grass barefoot, lighter than a wayward breeze. there’s a woman watching her dance, an exclusive performance for an audience of one. the piece ends and the girl sweeps into an extravagant bow, dipping her head to the imaginary shower of roses raining down upon her impromptu stage of weeds and wildflowers. her solitary spectator bursts into jubilant applause, her laughter incandescent, filling her from throat to limb to toe. the both of them, radiant, the colour of sun swept afternoon, sprawl in the golden hour shade beneath the willow oaks. the girl lays her head in the woman’s lap as she soothes her fingers through the dark tangles of hair so like her own. she closes her eyes, breathing in the tenderness and blooming summersweet in the air.

her name is eva.

—

there is a way of telling this story that makes it bearable, but only just. enduring, in the way of the tide wearing away a thousand years of sand and stone, returning everything to seafoam.

perhaps we start with once upon a time, because it’s familiar and feels handmade. once upon a time, there was a prince. he was handsome and charming — two things too easily mistaken for good — and beloved by all that encountered him. magnetic by nature and flirtatious by disposition, he deflected the rumours and speculation swirling around him about marriage by declaring that he would go down on one knee only when he had met the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. but summers passed and the prince remained inexplicably unmarried. you see, though the kingdom was rife with dainty high-born ladies and heiresses, the most beautiful woman in the kingdom was not a lady or an heiress. she was the daughter of the castle’s steward, kept out of sight and mind by the humble circumstances of her birth. her beauty is fairytale, dreamlike, unrivalled by any woman the prince had ever graced with a smile or a kiss to bare knuckles. he thinks, at last, i’ve found you.

in the story, the prince and the steward’s daughter fall in love. against the king and queen’s wishes, the prince announces his engagement to his newfound love. they are married in the palace gardens, a simple ceremony with only a priest in attendance. nonetheless, their happiness glows with tangible sunlight.

a year later, the steward’s daughter gives birth to a princess. the last thing she sees in the world is the sight of her daughter’s eyes peering up at her, dark and starlit as her own. the prince takes his daughter into his arms as his wife draws her last breath, his greatest joy and most terrible loss coalescing with his daughter’s first cry.

despite the tragedy surrounding her birth, the little princess’ childhood is full of life and laughter and simple pleasures. she is raised by a nursemaid who becomes like a mother to her. what more is flesh and blood, after all, than the woman who cradles you at night and sings you lullabies to sleep, who kisses your scratched knees and teaches you how to dance? she is her world, and her world is everything the nursemaid nurtures within her, stoking the embers of imagination and zeal, courage and fearlessness. the princess learns to dance almost as soon as she learns to walk. she is raised with music and song, the rhythm of hands and feet barely a step from instinct. she dances as she breathes, intrinsically, innately, like the music is another facet of bone or artery. when she is seven years old, she begins classes with a private master. by the next full moon, she is ready to leave the kingdom to dance, to dance forever.

INT. NEW YORK / the cold curling around your skin and through your bones like a well-worn blanket; the loneliness of being inimitable; the becoming of a star; the aching of muscle and sinew; gazing out at the city skyline at 3 in the morning; the whispers trailing in your wake; tongues and nails sharp as razor blades; hunger blooming in the dark

interlude: eva is twelve when she wins a scholarship to the school of american ballet in new york. sixteen, when george balanchine handpicks her to join the new york city ballet. eighteen, when she becomes the first black principal dancer.

she is one of only two dancers in the ballet that is not white, and mariana was at least born and bred in spanish harlem. eva, with her burnished skin and southern lilt, sticks out like an unruly hair from a bun, like a ballet master’s correction. she is good, unrivalled for her age, but not the best, and it doesn’t take long for the muffled whispers and cutting glances to score and scrape away at any last shred of resilience. the isolation and playground tyranny, she can live with, but it is the loneliness, the distance from her aunty celia, the homesickness that festers in her stomach like spoiled milk, that makes her bend until she feels like she could break. she writes dozens of letters home to her beloved nursemaid that she doesn’t send, and resolves to wait out the year until summer when she decides she will quit.

the magnolia trees are in full bloom when she arrives in arlington, and maybe it is the smell of home, or the jetlag, but when she sees aunty celia, she dissolves into a cloudburst of salt and tears. she spends the summer in a daze of blissful relief, tucking ballet from her thoughts like a chest of old dolls in the attic. it isn’t until the second last day before she is to return to new york that aunty summons her to the garden. aunty, who is nothing like an aunty, really, with her petite frame and miles of thick, dark curls framing a painter’s muse of a face. tell me what is wrong, aunty celia says. you haven’t danced a single moment since you came home. eva bites her lip and stares skyward. i’m quitting, aunty. i hate it there. i don’t belong there, it’s cold and i miss home. i miss you, and papa, and being here. aunty arches a picturesque brow. but what about dancing? won’t you miss it? eva clenches her teeth, insistent. i can dance here, too. i can dance anywhere.

listen, little bird, aunty never calls her that anymore, not since she was tiny and still begged for bedtime stories. aunty holds out her hand and eva takes it, reluctant but with a quiet thrill at the easy gentleness of her touch. aunty twirls her slowly in a semi-circle, arm raised elegantly above her head. you will never belong anywhere because you weren’t meant to; you were made to be brilliant. you are a star, and stars only shine brightest in the dark.

so eva returns to new york, carrying a music box — her parting gift from aunty, specially crafted just for her, to play whenever she feels cold and misses home — and an inimitable light inside her that refuses to be tamed for anyone or anything. she is relentless, driven by more than mere ambition and pride. everything she does, she becomes the first. the exception and the exceptional. the trailblazer on an ever-ascending meteoric rise without a summit.

this is her becoming.

INT. VIRGINIA HOSPITAL CENTER / the smell of antiseptic clinging to skin; an expressionless mask; sickly saccharine platitudes; the knife of betrayal sinking into raw flesh; a broken locket; a sea of faceless strangers; the long soundless scream of grief; mourning lace; the suffocating weight of revelation

three days before eva is to dance the defining role of her career at age twenty-three, she receives the call. it’s papa. there’s been an incident; aunty is in the hospital.

in the midst of final rehearsals and preparations, eva leaves. the director threatens to drop her from the show altogether, threatens to blacklist her from all future roles and performances. with her career hanging in the threadbare balance, eva nods, gives her full blessing and best wishes to the cast, and leaves.

she arrives that night at the hospital and finds auntie swathed in the stark white sheets of a hospital bed, smaller than she’s ever seen her. a stroke, papa explains, hemorrhagic bleeding, a rupture in her brain. eva clutches at aunty’s hand, tears blurring her vision even as she scrambles to drink her in, by eyelash and smile line, the last glimpses of her she will ever have. aunty wakes with a small rasping inhale when she sees eva at her side and not in new york, getting ready for her stage.

of course i’m here, eva says, how could i be anywhere else but here? aunty shakes her head, lifts a shaking hand like a marionette extending beyond the life of her puppet strings to brush her fingertips down eva’s cheek. my eva, my beautiful girl. eva swallows, throat thick with love and apologies she doesn’t know how to speak, i’m sorry i did not write you every day, i’m sorry i did not come home last summer. i’m sorry i don’t know how to tell you how much you have made me who i am. worry creases the lines of aunty’s face, sunken deeper than ever before, in the sketches of time through across her features. she asks about the show, and what will happen to her career, and all eva can think is, i only wanted to dance because of you, because so much of me is just you.

you have to go, little bird. aunty smiles, and it reminds eva of endless afternoons in the garden, their very own kingdom, whirling barefoot beneath blue sky. time for you to blaze like the sun.

—

this is the end of the fairytale: the steward’s daughter dies in a hospital bed holding her daughter’s hand. the princess rises to discover she is gone from this world, as if every star and the sun itself has gone out.

this is the truth, which will be brief, because when the truth comes, it comes hard and fast like a knife in an alleyway: eva was born out of wedlock, a wealthy heir’s bastard daughter. when his parents gave him the ultimatum, the girl he loved, or the business empire of his inheritance, he chose empire. the truth of eva’s birth was concealed, obfuscated when her father married an heiress selected for her surname and birthright. they told her that her mother died in childbirth, and allowed celia to care for her as her nursemaid, raising her not as a daughter but a ward.

after celia’s death, eva is given a letter from her father with her mother’s dying wish, and the terrible secret she had taken to her grave, sealed within. in the letter, celia tells eva the one fairytale she had never spun for her as a child. she tells her about how the prince and the daughter of his family’s groundskeeper fell in love, and everything that came after. she tells her that she never regretted a second of it, watching the supposed love of her life marry another woman and build the family he was always meant to have with them. he made his choice, and i made mine, and i would do it all again in a heartbeat because our love gave me you. my daughter, my eva.

tucked inside the envelope is the locket celia used to wear but never allowed eva to open. and inside the locket is a picture of a seven year old eva.

eva packs everything in her suitcase and leaves for new york the next day. she never sees her father again.

INT. NEW YORK CITY BALLET THEATRE / a single silhouette beneath a spotlight; silk sculpted to a perfect body; the headliner that the crowd has been holding its breath for; gilded thread on golden skin; the blaze of a meteor; the coil of anticipation in your gut; adrenaline pounding through your veins; the exhilaration of perfection; the metamorphosis of the swan

the evening of the first show of swan lake by the new york city ballet, eva goes on stage. she dances odette, and it is the defining performance of not only her career, but of american ballet history. she is the first african-american principal dancer of the new york city ballet, and the first to dance odette in swan lake. it is a triumph and a magnum opus of a performance.

she takes her final bow before an endless sea of faces, her heart going cold in her chest knowing the only one that she wanted to see is not there.

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

after her history-making performance as odette, the media and arts society gave her the name swan queen. patrons and friends of the ballet frequently address her as odette or the swan at NYCB galas.

eva’s most prized possession is the music box her mother gave her during the summer she had made up her mind to quit ballet. it plays a version of the lullaby she used to sing to her as a child and features a specially hand-painted black ballerina as the miniature figurine that dances when you wind up the mechanism. she keeps the locket her mother used to wear inside it.

to watch eva dance is an experience — she makes ballet feel alive. while famous for her thirty-two fouette sequence in swan lake, it’s the emotions and tragedy she breathes into each performance that makes her dancing unforgettable. she lives and dies on the stage, dancing as if each show is a swan song.

largely alienated from the rest of the corps throughout her training at SAB and within the NYCB, eva is accustomed to solitude and keeping herself company. a combination of prejudice and envy at her exceptional talent kept her isolated, but rather pushing her to the margins as would have been preferred, it thrust her directly into the spotlight. over the years the whispers and rumours that she has only excelled and outstripped her rivals because of her unique circumstances have shadowed her. she’s proven them to be blatantly and objectively false time and again but it doesn’t stop the insidious nature of the hearsay from spreading. the instinct to brace herself for the worst when she meets new dancers, even those untouched by the poison of the NYCB corps, is deeply ingrained in her. it’s a habit she’s never had reason to break.

there have been a handful of flings and stolen kisses with dancers from the corps, girls and boys alike. her longest and most serious relationship was a brief but volatile affair with a renowned artistic director visiting from paris. it was a passionate but disastrous love, and they ended things as the season came to an end and he returned to france. eva has never had relationships, or even dalliances, with anyone outside of the ballet. in her mind, it’s unlikely anyone that isn’t involved in ballet could ever capture her attention long enough to spark her interest.

she’s well-versed in a variety of dance genres and still enjoys dancing for the simple pleasure of it outside the ballet. she frequently dances without music, on the rooftop of her apartment in the late hours of night, occasionally humming music notes and melodies.

since her debut as a principal dancer, she’s had a number of suitors — mainly wealthy patrons, older men with fortunes to spare — that would send gifts and bouquets. other than wine or champagne, eva tends to give away the lavish gifts of perfume, makeup and jewels to other dancers.

she has a younger half-sister and half-brother from her father’s second marriage. they don’t speak much anymore but she still sends them tickets to NYCB shows.

eva speaks slightly beyond conversational french and is fluent in spanish. other than ballet, languages are the only thing she has ever put her mind to seriously studying and learning. she’s interested in learning russian, particularly while she’s immersed in the culture at the bolshoi theater.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

TBD.

#deux:intro #prelude.

5 notes · View notes