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belethlegwen · 2 years

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What's Henry's most embarrassing moment from his past?

Oh I loooove this question

Henry's MOST embarrassing moment from his past would be that, back when he and Daniel (Captain Grant) were still friends, they had an ongoing bet as to who could collect the most notes from Peter (Commander Martellis).

Peter would write notes about everything. When you had a question that seemed remotely important, he'd walk you through the answer and then to be sure, he'd write you a little a jot-note and then tear it out of his book and hand it to you. Or, if he was just trying to plan something you'd get a note that said "Lunch, second call, discuss dressage practice" or whatever it needed to be. He was ALWAYS carrying journals that looked they'd almost gone through a woodchipper. People always asked, and he'd just say he needed the pages for something more important, but only the people who saw him regularly knew what was actually happening. Very few people left an interaction with Peter without a piece of paper in their pocket with something scribbled on it.

That said, he was the one with the real brains when they were all in Academy, he was just a bit hard to keep on focus and keep on track. He found the notes as helpful to himself as he assumed they were for other people. Daniel would later turn out to be fabulous at keeping him on point, basically replacing his notebooks, but before that they abused the man's general forgetfulness and the ease at which he could be distracted to just... harmlessly collect notes. Their goal with the notes? No idea. I'm sure there was originally some grand scheme to bind them back into books and present them to Peter as a joke-gift or something, but those plans got tossed to the wayside pretty quick.

Daniel was really good at prompting Peter without Peter catching on. He knew precisely the kind of tactical questions that Peter would be most likely to write a little note for. The problem was that Peter wouldn't do it for the same question twice, especially not with Daniel because Daniel was pretty competent. Daniel, also, was pretty prideful and didn't want to appear stupid and like he forgot something like that.

Henry, on the other hand, would kick his own pride's ass if he thought it would stop him from losing a bet. So Henry got a handful of notes by asking the kind of questions Daniel asked but found that it was almost a waste of time, especially if Daniel had already asked it. The three of them being friends, Peter would nonchalantly just dismiss him with "Oh, I drew Daniel up a note if you need it", which just kind of put salt in Henry's wound.

Then one day, as a test, Henry and Peter were getting ready for mounted drills and Henry decided to put his saddle on backwards. He goes through all the motions, he continues to get ready, they're literally about to mount by the time Peter notices. Peter wasn't incredibly perceptive, so when he points out that Henry's saddle is backwards, and Henry pretends to not understand, Peter legitimately believes the man has been riding with a backwards saddle forever.

Peter helps him fix it, gives him a note.

Next time they go to mount up for something, Henry does it again. Peter tries to refer him to the note and Henry practically pulls every muscle in his body with the stretches he's making to try and justify why Peter's directions did not help.

Peter helps him fix it, draws and gives him a diagram.

Henry manages to pull this one more time and gets Peter to make a VERY detailed, almost idiot-proof diagram. But it was enough. His plan was in full motion. Peter began watching Henry like a hawk from that moment onward to make sure Henry hadn't ALWAYS been doing something noticeably wrong, and every time he saw something the sweet man would immediately jot out a note, usually a little diagram, and hand it to him.

Forbes and Neilson loved this. Gibson thought it was a bit shit, but he put money down on who was going to win between Henry and Daniel all the same, so he was hardly about to throw stones from his glass house. Neilson suggested Henry move on to smaller things, like wearing his boots on the wrong feet, gloves upside down and on the wrong hands, lacing his shirt and trousers wrong. It was Forbes though, the utter shit, that suggested he do them all one at a time so he could just keep rotating 'wrong things' to the point that Peter could never remember what he had already given Henry a note for.

This went on

for literal

months.

Henry literally started piling his notes into little stacks based on what specific incident they were for, and he was constantly jabbing Daniel with how many more notes he had. The bet couldn't last forever though, so they agreed that it would only be for the introductory semester of Academy; until they were transferred to their chosen branches of service. With only a few weeks left, they both decided to really work for it.

Daniel and Peter spent so many hours discussing tactics and protocol, history and law, literally anything Daniel could think of, that he was sure they both deserved something akin to several Doctorates by the time the bet was over.

Henry, on the other hand, had a brief moment of worry that he was legitimately forgetting things like what was the correct way to put on a vest, before he realized that winning was more important than knowing how to dress yourself and continuing on with his brilliant, incredible strategy.

The week before their preliminary training period was set to end, they were all officially assigned their own readying-areas for drills and such for when they were transferred to their respective branches. The readying areas were like a little, personal locker-type area with pegs to hang your gear, coats, a bench for getting ready on, a series of cabinets of organizing things, and a tiny writing desk and a small wooden stool for end-of-the-day journaling or letter writing. These were pretty big deals, most people getting nice nameplates done up for themselves, and decorating their little spaces how they wanted.

Peter wanted to surprise his friends and help them celebrate.

For he and Daniel, he had ornate nameplates done up for their areas.

For Henry, he had a large, mounted poster made.

A poster that contained every diagram that Peter had felt the need to draw for him.

Henry walked to his readying area the first day of his Naval Officer training, proud as a peacock with a pocket full of formerly-Daniel's money, and then came face to face with a horror that everyone in that room or walking past had full, brilliant view of.

Everything from detailed writings as to what end of a horse you should be facing when you ride, to the fact that socks go on before your boots, just there. On his wall. In the open.

His friends-- Forbes, Neilson and Gibson-- were elated. They encouraged every rumor that sprung forth from this mysterious, gorgeously made and mounted poster that had wound up in the Naval Staging Room, and even when Henry had finally managed to get the thing off of the wall, one them had managed to save it from the trash and tuck it somewhere for safe keeping, though Henry never did find out who.

All the way up until he and the boys quit to become privateers, the same thing would be said about Henry by everyone in the Naval Training Groups:

He was a brilliant sailor

which was so good for him

seeing as he didn't know which was the right end of a horse.

#gt #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t author #giant tiny #gtauthor #author thoughts #g/t writing #Henry #Captain Grant #Commander Martellis #Background nonsense

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daylandeangelo · 5 months

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TOP TEN THINGS? MAYBE.

I don't really think categorizing my apples and my oranges by which are better is a very useful exercise. However, making lists is fun and reflecting is fun. So that's what I'm going to do here. This was originally going to be a list of top ten games of the year but I don't want anyone thinking I'm a gamer so I'm adding in ALL forms of art that I have consumed with my little brain. This year was filled with misery, but at least the art produced was good. So let's just get right to it.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Okay. I am already cheating. And I will certainly cheat again later, but for now I want to throw some stuff in this section that I don't feel quite comfortable ranking in my mind because either I haven't finished them or there is some external psychic force preventing me from making a proper judgment.

THE LEGEND OF ZELDA: TEARS OF THE KINGDOM

Hey so. I didn't beat this game. I put like, 70-90 hours into it and completed exactly 1 temple. So, if I do the math there, that will be roughly a 400 hour game at this pace. I doubt it gets that crazy, but I do plan on playing this game for years to come so there's really no reason to try and chug it or force it on a list that I don't wanna put it on. It basically takes everything about Breath of the Wild and elevates it by a step or five, depending on the area. This one seems to have a much better fleshed out story too, so that's pretty cool. I will be making off putting contraptions and patrolling around the seemingly infinite depths for some time to come. Yippie! :)

BALDUR'S GATE 3

I did beat this one. Ruh oh. This would probably have made the top ten in some universe, and that universe is one where it didn't take me nearly 200 hours to complete it ONCE due to progression blocking bugs, character arc bugs, and so on and so forth. I am very tolerant of bugs and such, and I wouldn't say this is a bad game because of them by any means but I also can't pretend my experience, particularly in act 3, wasn't hampered by things either not working or not being fleshed out for one reason or another. I often play games like these for narrative or at the very least characters, so when that stuff starts actively breaking at the seams I start getting a little anxious. At certain points, it was hard to tell what was intended and what wasn't due to the jank of some of the narrative stuff towards the end.

I still love this game, I still will be playing this game, but I eagerly await the next couple of patches in hopes that they not only fix some of the bugs, but give more satisfying narratives to some of the party members who seem to just kind of get left by the wayside writing wise. Also I don't think the main story is very well fleshed out, personally. There is so much good writing in this game, but I think that most comes from the 'side' paths. The peak of the game, for me, personally was 'the' house in act 3. Legitimately incredible stuff.

Oh, also, I haven't played durge yet so maybe that would have put this higher on my personal list. Who knows.

STARFIELD

At one point I thought this might be my game of the year, or whatever. I haven't really cooled on it, per se, I simply don't think I've explored enough of the questlines yet to get a comfortable read on the whole thing. With Bethesda games, I find it hard to quantify how good or 'okay' they are until a few characters are made and a few routes are taken. Just personal preference, y'know.

That being said I think this game is a step up from Fallout 4 in almost every single way. No voiced protagonist, wildly different ways to TALK as your character, better writing, the list goes on and on.

I think Starfield does suffer from being a little to... sterile. It's a taste thing, sure, but Bethesda is going for a much more 'down-to-earth' version of space, which I know might not sit well with some people. I do think this has become the dogpile game of the year (because there always has to be one!) which makes criticizing the game, uh, not fun! There have been so many bad faith conversation points around this game that I don't even wanna say something mild like 'the companions are kind of weak overall' or whatever. It's a little tiresome!

That being said if you're in the mood for a Bethesda game with a slightly different flavor of exploration, this scratches that itch. It's very meditative in some ways, very interesting in others. There really isn't a game like it. You get in what you put out, I'd say.

DEAD SPACE

One that nearly got lost in the early year shuffle, especially considering another survival horror remake was right around the corner. But I HAVE to give this game it's due. A game that, by all accounts, didn't sound overly promising. I discounted any looks at the early footage, because I have half a brain and know how game development works, but I was still skeptical. After EA destroyed its own franchise, here it came—with a remake by a different studio. I try not to be cynical, but in this instance I was.

What I got was a polished, incredibly reimagined, and spruced up version of the original Dead Space that—to me—puts it nearly on par with Dead Space 2, one of my favorite games ever made. They heft of the weapons, exploring an open and interconnected Ishimura, and having Isaac be a character really brings up the overall experience.

The added flavor, altered sections, and rebalancing of the navigation (added backtracking and substantial rewards) makes this game an easy recommend for Survival Horror heads all around the world. I still haven't done my NG+ Run because Too Many Games came out, but I am genuinely in awe with how well this game turned out. Didn't expect EA to be the major western publisher to have the best track record of game releases, but here we are.

SUZUME

Okay, last Honorable Mention I swear. I said I would only do five, so I'm only gonna do five. Suzume I didn't see till late this year and might have liked it more than Your Name.? I'm not sure on that one, quite yet.

Good road trip vibes, light on a questionable age gap romance, and heavy on introspection about loss and grief. Very good, big recommend, incredible visuals and soundtrack. It's got the sauce. Also Shinkai's movies seem to have a slightly depressed older woman in them that makes me feel insane. Without fail.

I haven't seen Shinkai's full body of work or anything like that, but I don't think anything is topping his work on the OP for Falcom's Ys Eternal in 1998.

Okay. Now it's time for the real list. Where champions come to fight upon the Mountain Between Heaven and Earth that exists within my mind.

10. FIRE EMBLEM ENGAGE

This one kind of sneaked (hate that word, by the way) up on me. I forgot it came out this year just by virtue of it being a January game. It released early, this year was long, hell is real. I'm still more of a Three Houses dude, but a nice walk back towards the 'Awakening' style of fire emblem was nice because, after all, that was m first REAL experience with the series.

The game play is cracked in this one. I could leave it at that but that would defeat the purpose of this list, wouldn't it?

One look at this game and you can kind of tell what all it encompasses. The popping colors, the slick animations, and the wildly varying character designs (almost all of which bang, for the record) paint the picture of a game that is much more 'pop-y' than the previous entry in the series. This is not really a dark tale of war and tragedy, this is a fairy tale. And a damned good one. The main character, Alear, is a walking filter. Bright red and blue, accused of being a 'v-tuber', and a top notch freak. I love them.

It is the most snappy—did I already say that?--srpg I've played, while also having plenty of depth. I played on hard, which was hard, and constantly had to tweak and really dig into how my characters were built. This involved different classes, skills, weapons, and emblem rings to make each build feel completely unique. Though I think the support system—and overall narrative—was a bit on the weaker side, it still had a pretty great finale with one of the most satisfying 'says the name of the thing in the thing' I had witnessed all year. Top notch, all around. Shout out to Yunaka, who carried my entire playthrough.

9. BARRY SEASON 4

I love the show Barry. From dark comedy, to surrealist comedy, to surrealist drama? It's really hard for me to quantify how much this show changes, while not really changing all that drastically. It's a sort of slow crawl.

The pitch is simple, for season one. 'Hitman turns actor decides which life he wants to lead' or something like that. And we get that, sure. They could have easily kept that concept going for years but after season 2 finished, and season 3 started walking a certain way, I can't help but feel season 4 was inevitably going to be... strange.

However, I didn't expect to feel like I was watching several arthouse experiments crammed into a single season of television. I cannot help but wonder if the staff saw the direction HBO—and WB writ large—was heading, and decided to wrap it up as quickly as they could. To tell a complete story, instead of getting canned halfway through one for no reason.

So yeah, that Hitman sure did become an actor. And American society was deeply diseased all along. Sometimes people can't become any better than they were made to be.

8. FINAL FANTASY XVI

I almost didn't expect to put this on my list. I liked it a lot, even if I think it ended kind of weak. Not that it was a whimper, but I do not think it reached as far as its wings would carry it. With combat that becomes a little too simple and trivial by the end, and a story that shaves off much of what makes it interesting, I find myself dwelling more on the lows than the highs these days.

But there were highs. Highs that culminated in maybe my favorite moment of the year, a mission that involves the wildest ride of set pieces in the game—a high octane ride that reached so high it became an impossible task for the rest of the game to live up to it. And that's okay, truthfully. I love Clive, Jill, Cid, Joshua, and Dion quite a bit. It's a game that has, despite it all, stuck with me in a very impactful way. I still pray, every night, that they release an update that will juice up the combat JUST a bit. Because as an RPG or an Action game, it sort of fumbles.

But as a single-player MMO where you do big combo? It is very fun, cool, and interesting to think about. Final Fantasy games always sort of have that quality about them. For the good and the bad, they are always interesting experiences to digest and think about. Even one as 'safe' as this.

7. PLUTO

This might be higher, truly, but I wanted to write these feelings down as soon as possible. I had never read Pluto—I barely even knew it existed. I knew it had SOMETHING to do with Astro Boy, which I'm only really familiar with because I got really into Megaman a few years back and that naturally led me to the thing is is largely based upon. I knew about facets of Astro Boy, had seen SOME of the 2003 anime and such, but this would be the first piece of it I'd be comfortable in saying I properly digested.

And what a piece it is. Every hour long episode encapsulated a volume, a volume of beautifully crafted stories that ask just as much about human nature as it does the nature of robots and artificial intelligence. Also is has A LOT to say about the War on Terror. Which, especially for the time the manga dropped, is very salient. I don't think a single story moved me more than this one this year.

It has a more grounded approach to the world of Astro Boy, yet it doesn't dwell in cynicism or misery. In fact, it confronts it. Fights against it. And, by the time credits roll, it is asking you to ask yourself what you feel about these things. What do things like suffering and hatred mean to you? Violence and love? I don't have the answers, and neither does Pluto, but we will keep on searching for them, together.

6. JUJUTSU KAISEN SEASON 2

Okay here comes the first rule break. I've been watching this dubbed so TECHINICALLY I still have like two episodes to watch, so yeah. But whatever, Hidden Inventory alone would be enough to put this here. This might be the single most openly spoiled manga of all time, so I kind of knew what I was expecting walking into this.

Or, I thought I did. Sure some of the stuff people said happened, happened. But the way it was all animated, the sheer creativity on display, made me feel like I was experiencing it all fresh anyways. I hope MAPPA animators get rest. They have earned it.

Regardless of the wild and incredible visuals, the actually story of the two arcs within this season are peak Battle Shounen. I do wish that some of the main characters had more time to breathe before being thrown in The Perils, but at this point it feels like a nitpick.

At this point I think Yu Yu Hakusho is my favorite anime at all time, due in no small part to the Sensui arc. So, when I arrived at the Shibuya Incident, I was wonderfully greeted by a single premise. “What if we took the Sensui Arc, and sprinkled a little crack on it?” Every fight within this arc whips, cracks by at a lightning pace, and is narratively meaningful in one way or another. I have watched through 'Thunderclap' onward several times at night, just to watch fights again. I do Not do that. Like ever. A special show, that everyone warns me is going to get 'bad'. I'm not sure if I believe them :).

5. GODZILLA MINUS ONE

This was easily my favorite movie of a year. I can say easily, because I did not watch many movies. Still. I feel like between this and Shin Godzilla, we are in a new and wonderful era of Toho produced Godzilla films that both have something to say, and are creatively inspired.

Godzilla Minus One is a movie about life and living. Both of these things are important, and dying for one's country or cause is a sacrifice too casually made. We cannot devalue ourselves, we cannot devalue others or the impact they make. Because no matter how much you survived, there is always more to live for, in the end. The human spirit really is unbreakable.

I think I sort of forgot how good movies can be, in a way. Not to say I haven't seen NEW things that I enjoyed, I'm more talking about the artistry of it all. This felt like a blockbuster, in many ways, but one with heart and soul that you might often find missing from the disaster/big monster genre. I don't think it's necessary to drag other things down to prop this up, because even without those things this movie is a masterpiece, but I think it's important for my frame of mind going in.

I wasn't expecting to be on the verge of tears at every moment, I wasn't expecting to care about the human characters quite as much as I did, and I wasn't expecting to leave that movie with a fire in my heart that life remains undefeated. I love you, Godzilla Minus One.

4. ARMORED CORE VI

I like big robots. No, more than that, I LOVE big robots. I think they are cool, and the stories told within the genre are normally impactful in one way or another. So, when I finally played my first Armored Core (at least on my own, not rented or borrowed or at a friend's house) I was floored by just how much it felt like it was designed for robogooners everywhere. Building your mech, tweaking every little part of its design—from aesthetic to actual gameplay builds—and unleashing hell upon enemies was genuinely some of the most fun I had all year. It also helped me crawl out of the worst depression of my life, maybe, so that was neat.

The story itself is rather... good? Which I wasn't expecting! Not that I thought it would be bad, I just didn't think it would actually make me cry. There are no human faces in this game. Just robots, callsigns, and insignias. Yet somehow Rusty, Carla, and Ayre are three of my favorite characters of the year. I haven't got the 'true' ending yet, because I've only completed one route, but I can still safely put this in the top five of my list. At one point, I was convinced it was my favorite game of year.

Incredible combat, great characters and story, and music that will make you feel like you are ascending to the next plane. Sometimes, I still think about 'I won't miss' and feel my heart skip a beat. Play this game.

3. Xenoblade Chronicles 3: Future Redeemed

I have very complicated feelings on Xenoblade Chronicles 3 that I one day will finish writing about. Maybe I will even make a video, who knows. But for now I just want to say this. Future Redeemed was what I THOUGHT the base game was going to be. A narrative bookend, to the Xeno series as a whole, it has me extremely excited for the future of what Monolith might do, now that they are completely untethered to the saga they started in 2010.

It's bittersweet in a way, just how goddamn excellent it is to play Future Redeemed. It may be a little on the easy breezey side for me, but the act of exploring, questing, and fighting has been gamified here to the point where not a second felt unrewarded. The story is pretty fantastic, the music is fantastic, and the way it ties together all left over narrative threads had me more than satisfied.

One of those things that makes you grateful to be invested in the series as a whole. Cannot wait to run through it again, even if they don't mention Morag ONCE.

2. Resident Evil 4

Resident Evil has been on an insane hotstreak lately, and RE4 Remake did not change that in the slightest. For context, I never was a HUGE lover of the original game. I played the shit out of Resident Evil 2 original, Resident Evil Remake, and the old-styled games in general. I loved them. Zombies, inventory management, detrimental controls... what's not to love? So when 4 came out, and I was a dumb 9 year old baby, I just kind of... didn't love it. How could I have possibly understood the magnitude of the game I was playing? That it would change video games forever? I played a lot of mercenaries with a friend, played up to the castle a million times, and that was where what little love I had for the game ended.

Well, of course, I was there for the remake day one. From 7 onward, I don't think Capcom has put out a bad game. I expected this to be no different. And, it wasn't. It was of the quality of Resident Evil 2 Remake, only expanded outward into an action game that should make most other third person shooters blush a little.

Knife parries, gunplay, suplexes, and even a grapple gun (post DLC) make the combat feel like butter being spread over my brain. It's not often I run a game multiple times in a year, I'm normally the type to do a playthrough of something 'once a year' or whatever, but this game just kept me coming back. Over and over.

Everything about it is expertly crafted, and I think it deserves to be recognized as one of—if not the—best games of the year. Whether it's a remake or not.

1. THE LEGEND OF HEROES: TRAILS INTO REVERIE

Sometimes you just need to be fully honest with yourself. I really didn't think, for months now, that this game was going to top my list. I put off getting to it, because I had to drag myself through the Crossbell games first, and the aforementioned depression really put a damper on me doing, well, anything!

Besides, I had basically every aspect of this game spoiled for me to some degree by the most annoying people on the planet—so I assumed my experience would be somewhat hampered by that. It wasn't.

Though I knew the beats, I didn't know how much impact they would have on me. This is a series I've been with for like six years now, and I've played every entry up to this point. When game TEN serves as an epilogue to an arc, not blinking from the parts people supposed didn't like, and turning haters into believers—I think that's something special.

Rean Schwarzer is legitimately my favorite protagonist in the entire genre of RPGs, maybe even video games in general. The way he gets reduced online does bother me a little, but I let it slide—I can sleep easy knowing he is a wonderfully realized and layered character. Though he is only one of the three main protagonists in this game, it still is very much his game, and he is still very much explored to a degree even his own arc didn't. I felt such resolution by the end. The lessons he has learned, the growth he had undergone, it has all culminated in one of the best games in the series.

As for C, the less I say here about him the better. But just know I was always a believer and that paid off in SPADES. Just a wonderful look at what it means to live, to carry on a woeful legacy, and to truly 'atone'.

Lloyd was fine too, I guess. I like him—he is the shounen man. :)

I know this game TECHINICALLY came out in 2020 in Japan, but it's a new release here so it counts damn it. I won't leave it off my own list, with made up rules, just because NISA and Falcom make questionable decisions.

A game that you need to do some homework for, but a game that makes the homework all worth it. Cold Steel remains undefeated.

And. That's it. There's some other stuff I thought I would put on here, like Hi-Fi Rush and even Cyberpunk Phantom Liberty. But I guess I didn't! I was just winging it, and my feelings were my guide. If you read this, thanks for caring about what I had to say. I spent my entire New Year's Eve day writing this out, and I think it was fun and worth it. Here's to a good 2024! :)

#top ten #i did it #happy new years #video games #movies #shows #what's not to live #kiseki #is in here somewhere #but i won't tell #i think i could just tag everything in this list at some point but i won't #thanks for reading or not #love you anyways :)

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txemrn · 3 years

Text

Faded

Book/Pairing: The Royal Romance; Leo x Madeleine

Warning: angst (some dark discussion that would give away the plot); smut 🍋 (awkward, NOT sexy); language

Word Count: 3008 (+/-)

Song Inspiration: Faded by Alan Walker ft. Iselin Solheim (lyrics quoted in the text)

A/N: This is a Royal Roulette, technically, but then again, RR was created specifically for Wacky Drabbles, and I just couldn't get the word count down! Oops! Anyway, this idea came to me when I heard this song, and this story needed to be told. Some of it is canon; some of it is creative canon; some of it, well, we'll call it creativity. lol Any and all of these ideas came from my head, but I acknowledge that others have probably written similar stories (purely coincidental).

Huge special thanks to some of my sweet writing friends: @ao719, @charlotteg234, and @kat-tia801. This took a group effort, and I love you ladies so very much for pre-reading and making this story better. And as always, these characters belong to our friends at Pixelberry!

***

He was a rushing wind; my billowing sails drift me into the unknown, but I don’t care. He’s an incinerating inferno: every tradition I was taught was set ablaze by his touch. My caged heart was unlocked by him; he set the monsters running wild inside of me. In my world of propriety and decorum, he taught me to live; more importantly, he dared me to love.

He broke free: from the customs, our culture, the captivity of our world. He broke free.

Without me. And the mess is all mine to clean up, left with only a picture of our passion--a photo of the love we once shared together. But even that is fading, and will be lost.

I’m alone with my thoughts this morning on my walk. The bite of salt in the coastal breeze tickles my nose, inviting my platinum strands into a carefree dance amongst the sunrise. Adjusting my oversized tortoise-shell sunglasses, my bare toes leave the comfort of the white sand beach only to discover the sting of the barnacle laden steps to the stone jetty. But, the shallow waters never met what I needed. My soul craves to commune with the waves from the deep.

I’m lost; there isn’t enough time in the world to think this through, and yet somehow a decision has to be made. God, where are you now? Was it all in my fantasy? Were you imaginary?

Many described our relationship as ‘destiny’--no, not exactly the romance you read about in foolish fairy tales or hear about in silly love songs. Our families ran in the same spheres of wealth and power. Politics. We are royalty. Since we were close in age, we would spend countless hours together throughout our childhood and teenage years. Being the oldest son to the king, he is--well, he was--the crowned prince of Cordonia; an agreement to our nuptials started well-before my formal training specifically for his social season.

But, something was different about Leo and me. We grew quite fond of each other, a friendship that developed into sharing secret kisses in darkened corners. Was this normal for friendships? Or did we have something deeper? Was this love?

As long as I can remember, I was taught my body was not my own; I was born with a greater purpose, and in that purpose, I would bring honor to my family and my name. I would earn my place in history: a woman who gave of herself everything she could for the sake of a country. Even love.

My reputation is to be held in the highest regard. My efforts in style and wardrobe would be subject to conversation and scrutiny. My eloquence and table etiquette could determine whether or not I’d be fit to be a queen. Every eye movement, every smile, every response could bring honor or dishonor to my family. No one cared about me as long as I presented a pristine package to court, a sacrificial lamb for king and country.

But, when the moment came for me to be chosen as his bride, I felt the swelling of joy inside my chest, bursting like strobes of light for everyone to witness. Suddenly the ideas of ‘the one’ and ‘happily ever after’ that I read about in the great classics teased my senses; I wanted to cry, to scream, to laugh. My body had a sudden thirst, a yearning for him that I didn’t understand.

In my innocence, this could only be one thing.

“Countess Madeleine,” he knowingly grins, “will you do me this honor?”

Swallowing thickly, her jade eyes flutter open at the sound of her name. In a handsomely fit tux, adorning his family colors in full regalia, her future husband, the future king of Cordonia, takes a knee to present the stunning canary solitaire. The dread melts away as the butterflies overcome her nerves.

Keeping with propriety, she nods her head while curtly dabbing away tears. But, something is distracting her: she is to be relishing in her accomplishment of winning the honor, for winning all of the glory, for winning the crown. She is to be the next queen of Cordonia.

But she is overwhelmed by all thoughts of him, her husband-to-be, the father to their future children. Suddenly the life she had been training for didn’t matter; she was betrothed and in love.

Smoothing out the tightness of my heathered linen pants, I take a moment to stare at my empty ring finger. I feel soreness from the collection of tears, but I refuse to allow anymore drop on his behalf. Today is hard enough.

I hug my body, remembering the warmth of his intimate touch. I had kept myself pure for him. Until that night.

Within an hour of making his intentions known to the court, Leo scurries away with his future bride, leaving only a trail of giggles and whispers along the way to his chambers.

Shrugging off his jacket, Leo presses her petite body against the locked door. His hand gently cradles her head, his thumb tracing the length of her jaw. His lips hungrily search hers, wolfishly devouring her mouth before she can react.

“Is this okay?” he whispers under his breath, his smoldering gaze entraps her innocent eyes. Breathlessly focused on his swelling lips, she nods her head dutifully.

He places his hands on her waist before sliding them intently back onto the curves of her ass, grabbing at her fullness under her whimper. A growl becomes his breathing, staring at his prey.

“Do you love me, my future queen?”

Love. Was that love?

The hypnotic rise and fall of the waves is starting to sour my stomach, but the ocean spray is so inviting and calming on my clammy skin. Finding a smooth stone, I seek refuge from the surge of the sea’s tantrum. Relaxing under the gentle rays of the morning sunshine, I close my eyes, only to see him.

He cheats her out of her next breath, his tongue overwhelming her mouth. His eager fingers find the zipper to her ballgown. He paws at her back, his fingers brushing against the secret skin of her body.

Her bra tosses to the wayside; admiring his new found treasure, Leo’s hands plunder her supple curves. His mouth plummets to her hardening nipples, his teeth teasing her nerves with fear. The sudden twinge of pleasure thrashes her head against the door.

“Shall I continue, beautiful?” he exhales, catching his breath; but, before an answer is uttered, he stumbles back into the temptation of her perfect body. His fingers tease across the waistband of her petal pink briefs; her eyes cinch closed, her mouth unable to hold back a moan.

“Someone is enjoying themselves,” he chuckles, standing to tower over her. He kisses her cheek, leaning his mouth close to her ear. “Is this what you want?” He tucks a strand behind her ear.

“Mhmm,” her lips curl slightly, leaning into his touch.

“Do you like what I am doing for you?”

“Yes,” she softly groans.

“Yeah?” He reaches into her panties, her knees buckling to the wandering of his fingers. “Mmmm,” he pulls his hand out, licking his fingertips, “that’s my good girl. You love my touch.” He stands back, shaking off her body. Locking his eyes with hers, he casually steps backwards until he reaches the bed. He slides off his belt, unfastening his slacks.

“Come here,” he motions for her to step closer. “Show me your love for me.”

Madeleine’s eyes focus on his growing girth, bulging from his unzipped pants; but, then her gaze darts around the room. Surely he knows that she isn’t well-versed in such endeavors.

“Maddie?” he combs his fingers through her blonde tresses. “I love you. You know that, right?”

She closes her eyes. The words send a jolt of happiness through her veins. She was experiencing love. She was prepared for everything else, but this?

"Then, let me show you,” he growls, pushing her back onto the bed. Hungrily ripping off her panties, he exposes her to his touch. Youthful and pure. "Are you ready?"

He spreads her legs apart, her thighs trembling. She grips the sheets with her tiny fists. Her doe-like eyes stare into his hunting blues as she feels him touch her again; but this time, it wasn't his fingers.

With an inexperienced push of his hips, red flashes before Madeleine's eyes as she squints her eyes in pain, hiding the gathering of tears. He thrusts again; her teeth gnash at the breaking of her body. Her head thrashes back and forth, groaning as she serves a penance under his rhythmic plunges into her warm, narrow core again and again. Harder and harder. Faster. Deeper.

Without warning, the beating of her body stops, leaving her stretched, completely filled with him. Moaning her name in the company of obscenities, his breathing becomes quick and shallow despite his efforts to slow down. Sweat gathers across his brow as he savors the delicate tightness of her depths. Stumbling into his ecstasy, he loses control, pouring himself into her. The sudden rush of fullness makes her whimper, the sting begins to dull as a smile crawls across her face. His lips meet her soft, glowing skin. Finally, it’s over.

That night: it was so long ago. But, I can still feel it; I can still feel him. The smell and taste of him lingers on my tongue. I miss him.

And with that, my breathing labors as I choke out a sob. I press the back of my hand to my lips as tears cloud my vision from the Mediterranean horizon. A sour pang creeps up my throat as I cradle my tender belly with my other hand. Clenching my eyes closed, I hope to hold back the downpour of tears from my soul. God, please not again.

Madeleine's head rests on Leo's shoulder, his strong arm securely around her exposed body. Her marigold diamond catches the pale moonlight perfectly, it's brilliance mesmerizing the bride-to-be as she subtly teeters her hand on his well-structured chest. He suddenly engulfs her hand with his. Turning towards him, her lips meet his perfectly like the final piece of the puzzle, locking seamlessly in place.

"Runaway with me, Madeleine."

The flecks of evergreen in her eyes sparkle with curiosity. "What--?"

"This life, Maddie," he gently rubs her back, "is this really the life that you want-- that you'd want for us?"

She sits up, taken aback from the peculiar question. "You mean the life we're living right now? Us? Being engaged?”

“Yes--I mean, no. I--” Leo stumbles over his words, dragging his hand across his face. “I love you, and I want to be with you--” he pushes a platinum strand behind her ear, “--but do you ever wonder what it’s like out there? Out in the real world? Away from all of this pressure? Away from all of these rules?”

“Away from the public eye? Living life--” she titters into a big smile, “--like everyday people?"

"Yes." He sighs, pressing her hand against his heart. "Before long, we will be in charge. In charge, Maddie. Of an entire country." There is a quake in his voice, a quiver that even makes her feel chilled. "I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” a breath hitches in his chest. “Will I even be a good king?"

“Of course," she whispers, offering a doting smile, “Of course, Leo," her voice becomes stronger, authoritative. “You can do this. You were made for this. And while, yes, you are the king, you’re not alone.” She laces her fingers with his. “You’ll always have me. You have my support--” she kisses the back of his hand, “and most of all, you have my love.” She leans down to kiss his hand again, but rather he captures her in his arm, bringing her to his lips, making her squeal.

“I love you, Madeleine.”

She moans into his pout as he kisses her once more. “I love you, too, Leo.”

The creaminess to his baritone voice dissipates from my memory, fading away much like our love. How could I have been so foolish? I gave him everything--I promised him everything. My life, my whole existence was for him, and I naively thought that love would somehow stitch us together, that somehow we would be the monarchs that did have it all. Wealth. Power. Love. A happily-ever-after that could join the rankings of the greatest love stories ever told.

But, it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough.

The sudden rapping on the door abruptly wakes Madeleine from a deep sleep. The sunlight pours mercilessly through the windows as she grabs the sheets to cover herself.

The door suddenly tramples open, Constantine bounding first into the room, followed by his head guard Bastien. “Where is he? Where’s Leo?” The king sneers as the blonde trips out of bed, reaching for clothing. “For God’s sakes, couldn’t you two show some fucking self-control?”

Madeleine cinches the high-thread-count sheet around her body, leaving her slender shoulders and décolleté exposed. As a blush crawls across her face, the question begins to haunt her: where is Leo? He wasn’t in bed this morning. In fact, his clothes are missing from their disheveled heap that was next to her discarded dress. His watch and cell phone were missing from the bedside table. But, otherwise everything seemed to be in place.

Madeleine rushes to the ensuite bathroom, hoping to find a logical clue to Leo’s whereabouts there.

"Call him. Now," the king growls at the anxious countess.

"He's not answering us, Countess Madeleine. We assume given your current relationship with his majesty--" Madeleine nods in understanding.

"I'm sorry, but the phone number you're trying to reach has been disconnected or is no longer in service."

Her eyebrows furrow as she ends the call. "I--I--I don't understand," she stammers, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. "His phone has been disconnected--"

"Fucking ungrateful--” growls Constantine, ripping the phone from Madeleine's tiny hand, “--selfish son of a bitch!" He throws the phone against the wall, shattering it into pieces. He gruffly turns towards his future daughter-in-law. “Are you certain you dialed the right number?" He spits. Madeleine braces herself against a wall, turning her face away from him. She carefully nods, refusing to make eye contact. “Unbelievable!” Constantine knocks over some antique silver candelabras before exiting the room, leaving Bastien behind.

“Sir?’ Madeleine quietly calls to the guard, drawing closer to him, ensuring her body is covered. “What is all the commotion about? Where is Leo?”

“Leo failed to report to his morning engagements about last night festivities. According to our cameras, he left this morning through the northwest gate in an unmarked black Sudan around o’four hundred hours.”

Madeleine cups her mouth as she stumbles to sit down on the bed. She nervously combs her fingers through her tangled tresses. “What does this mean?” She spouts nervously, her body shaking with tears gathering in her eyes.

“Please try not to worry, ma’am,” Bastien carefully places a comforting hand on her bare shoulder, quickly withdrawing it when their eyes awkwardly meet at the gesture. “Um--” he clears his throat, “--I don’t know what he’s doing, but we will find him.” He turns on his heel to leave Madeleine alone when suddenly a thought hits him. “By any chance, did he mention anything to you?”

‘Runaway with me, Madeleine.’ One simple request. He asked me to just simply follow him. I thought he was joking or simply making a hypothetical request due to his uneasy nerves; but, my love for him aside, this was my calling: to serve him. If I had chosen to honor him rather than challenge him… if I had chosen to remind him of responsibility and duty rather than trying to win him over with ludicrous ideas of love in marriage…

Leo abdicated the throne.

No one speaks about royalty relinquishing their responsibilities. We’re born into this; we were made to do this. We spend our entire lives preparing, being told that it is an honor to bear such greatness, it is an honor to host such power. No one speaks of the alternative. Truth be told: if we knew there was a way to escape, to renounce such a life as this, how many of us would take that chance?

It’s been seven weeks since that awful morning. Seven weeks of silence and darkness. Seven weeks of broken dreams and false hope. Seven weeks of only one absolution: Leo had found his freedom. He wasn't coming back.

I pull out the photograph of our love just one more time as the tears gather once more in my eyes. Leo’s last words to me were ‘I love you;’ but somehow as I trace my fingers amongst the black and white print, I have to say, ‘goodbye’ for both of us this morning.

“Ms. Amaranth?”

“Yes, ma’am?” Madeleine wakes from her daydream, her voice trembling. She chews incessantly on her nails as her crossed legs bounce nervously. The sterile white walls around her seem to be closing in around her; the air grows thick, stifling. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

The dark brunette stands to come closer to the blonde. She straightens out her white coat while fixing an endearing smile on her face. She sits down next to Madeleine, taking her hand. “I asked if you are sure about this decision?”

If Madeleine had learned anything in the past two months, it's that she could only be sure about nothing. She stares at her bobbing toe, hypnotically entranced with the clicking of the clock in the exam room.

“There are other options," the doctor continues. "Adoption. Keeping the baby.”

I tear up the ultrasound picture in my hands, letting the wind chase it to the sea. The tattered pieces drift for a place to rest, sinking to the depths my soul will forever crave, a secret place far too precious for this world. For my world.

Goodbye, love.

***

Tag List (please please please let me know if you need to be added or removed!): @ao719 @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @dcbbw @forallthatitsworth @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @iaminlovewithtrr @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @phoenixrising308 @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @taniasethi @texaskitten30 @thefrenchiemama @twinkleallnight @yourmajesty09

#the royal romance #choices the royal romance #leo x madeleine #royal roulette #choices fanfiction #choices trr

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the-breath-in-air · 3 years

Text

Fixing "Boy Erased" (2018)

I recently decided to watch Boy Erased (2018) again, now that we're a couple years out from its initial release (and hype). And I came away with some thoughts.

First, something I think worked. You know that scene near the end, when Jared (Lucas Hedges) is trying to leave the conversion camp and he's racing through corridors and whatnot. That whole sequence works, but there's one moment that really stands out.

Jared attempts to get his phone and Michael (one of the 'camp counselors') tries to physically wrestle it away from him. There's a bit of a fight but eventually Jared makes his way to the bathroom and he calls his mom to come take him away. He then emerges from the bathroom and says to Victor Sykes (who runs the camp), "If you, or anyone else puts their hands on me, I have witnesses." Victor puts up his hands and says, "Nobody's gonna put their hands on you. Why would anybody do that? Come and sit. We're gonna wait for your mom, okay?" Then there's a hard cut to this:

Victor Sykes and Brandon literally laying their hands on Jared and praying. And I love that juxtaposition because it brings to light the violence inherent in this situation. They're restraining him through enforced religious acts. There's violence in this prayer.

And on top of that, it serves as a pretty good metaphor for the whole film. Jared's parents (especially his mother) believe they're helping but really they're hurting. They can't see the violence of their actions in sending him to the camp.

If only the rest of the film was working on this level.

Problem the first: Audience as observer. The film is really about observing its subject, Jared, as he experiences these events. But it isn't about giving us any insight into his perspective or interiority as he does so. The camera is looking at Jared more often that it is revealing to us what he's seeing. Perhaps the most obvious example of this issue is with the perfume ad scene. Jared is on a run and he comes across a perfume ad on the side of a bus stop with a bare chested buff guy. The camera shows us the ad, and then the rest of the scene has the camera (and thus, the audience) placed some distance away as we see Jared first touch the ad, then throw a rock at the ad, and then scream "fuck you" at it repeatedly. The ad itself isn't salacious enough to illicit that kind of response in the average audience-goer, and the camera is so disconnected from Jared's experience that we aren't really gaining insight into why this ad is affecting him in such a strong way. It ends up making it so that scene really does not work.

This isn't to critique Lucas Hedges's performance in that scene. It's more to say that all the other elements of that scene make it feel ridiculous - because the audience has not been guided toward viewing that ad in the same way that Jared does in that moment.

The second problem: Casting. To be absolutely clear, this is not a knock against any of the actors performances. On the contrary, I think everyone was pretty dang exceptional. Rather, it's more a conversation about casting choices. Two of those choices really stand out as somewhat misguided: Xavier Dolan as Jon and Emily Hinkler as Lee.

Turns out Emily Hinkler is a nonbinary actress. Lee (the character) is a cis guy who is conspicuously unmasculine. (If you've seen the movie - he's the one who gets hit in the head with a baseball). Casting a nonbinary actress as a cis boy at a conversion camp feels a bit off on it's own in that a conversion camp would be forcing people to adhere to assigned genders at birth. But I could get behind it as a sort of statement, like, a casting decision as direct opposition to the enforced gender binary of a conversion camp. i.e. Why should the movie adhere to the oppressive gender binary that the camp would? However, by casting a nonbinary actress as the least conventionally masculine character - it actually feels like it ends up reinforcing the binary. Lee's defining trait is that he's small and unmanly and, afaik, he's the only one of the male characters who is not portrayed by a cis man.

My issue with Xavier Dolan's casting is much simpler: Jon feels like he was written as a teenager and Xavier Dolan was approaching 30 when this was filmed. Maybe it wouldn't have bugged me so much if I didn't already know who Xavier Dolan was when watching the movie? Like, maybe if you watch it without knowing the actor's age, it works better? But also, the character feels like a teen but isn't explicitly stated to be a teen. So whenever he was on screen I kept wondering if actually part of Jon's situation is meant to be that he is 30 but stuck in a sort-of adolescence due to his relationship with his abusive father. Or did they just cast Xavier Dolan to portray a teenager?

This brings me to the third problem: Not enough of the ensemble. Jared, and thus the audience, spends proportionally, little screen time with the other people at the camp. They are rarely shown talking to each other - especially outside the restrictive observation of the camp's 'counselors.' This could be part of the point - i.e. that the camp is so isolating - but that isolation wasn't really highlighted by the camera/scenes/dialogue...so it really feels more like it's just an oversight. The movie focuses on Jared and his individual story and so the rest just fell by the wayside.

This is really unfortunate because there are some (potentially) great characters in there, especially Jon and Gary. Jon went through the program once before and is now back for a second time. We don't know what happened to make him come back. He appears to be 30-ish but he's staying at a hotel with his abusive father. He is completely invested in the program and treats his sexuality like an addiction. He has even taken it upon himself to forego all physical contact with other men (not even a handshake). His self-loathing is at once horrifying and heartbreaking.

In contrast, Gary (Troye Sivan) knows the entire program is bullshit, but he's playing along for his own survival. He's over 18; he lived with his boyfriend for a year prior to coming to the camp. So that begs the question of how his family convinced him to enter to the program. Also, Gary's so invested in his own survival, that he stays silent and is complacent in the abuse and violence he witnesses against others in the camp. He is both a victim and a bystander (at times).

I think this film would've really benefited from spending more time with these characters (as well as Sarah, portrayed by Jesse LaTourette, and Cameron, portrayed by Britton Sear) in the camp and seeing how they all interacted with each other. Give us a sense of their different contexts and perspectives - and give us a better sense of the ways that conversion camps disempower the people sent there (even people like Gary, who knows it's bullshit). It's the thing that makes all the other movies about conversion camps work so well.

Which brings us to the fourth problem: the ending. If we spend more time with the ensemble, we'd either end up with a really long movie or we'd have to cut out something else. Well, folks, we can cut about 10 minutes off the end. Everything after the dinner Jared has with his mother post-escape can go. The climax of the film is when Jared finally decides to leave the camp. The resolution comes when his mother places herself in opposition to Jared's father (which she had never done before) and decides that she's going to take Jared home. And the emotional resolution comes when she admits to Jared that they made a mistake and that they harmed him by sending him to the camp.

Everything after that is extraneous. We don't really need to see Jared living in a city with a boyfriend, or see him begin to reconcile with his father. His relationship with his father was never the emotional core for the film. Boy Erased is, in some ways, a movie about self-actualization and that's the sort of movie that's best to end with something a bit open-ended. Y'know...a sort of end-that's-just-the-beginning kind of thing. Because the story of Jared falling in love and dating and moving out and gaining the self-confidence to confront his father - well that's a whole other movie. And here it gets shoved into the epilogue, which does the whole thing a real disservice.

Then there are the informational cards at the end. Two stick out as being particularly frustrating. One, "The real Victor Sykes left L.I.A. in 2008. He now lives in Texas, with his husband," feels irrelevant and unnecessary. The audience cares about what happened to Gerrard Conley (who wrote the story and whom Jared is based off of). But why do we care about what happened to the real guy who ran the camp? We don't...except for the jab about him now being married to a man - which feels like it's a more significant point for the cis straight people in the audience than for anyone queer. Turns-out-ex-gay-pastor-was-actually-just-gay-the-whole-time is not revelatory, I gotta say.

Then there's also this:

The emphasis about conversion therapy "practiced on minors," feels a bit disconnected from the film we just watched - which emphasized how abusive and traumatizing it is, even for adults. And in the U.S., all states currently legally allow conversion therapy for anyone 18+. Only Washington D.C. has banned it. And that, to me, is equally egregious, yet it isn't mentioned. The film itself challenges the notion that it's somehow okay for this to be practiced on adults because it's ostensibly their "choice," and then the info cards at the end shy away from that stance by focusing on kids.

I think the thing I find most frustrating about this movie, is the wasted potential. As I said at the beginning of this, there are some moments that really stand out in how they use the medium to convey meaning. There are some choices in how the film uses light and brightness (or lack thereof), that are pretty dang good, too. But ultimately, it's a film I feel so detached from and I think some of what I explained above is part of why.

#boy erased #lucas hedges #xavier dolan #emily hinkler #troye sivan #joel edgerton #nicole kidman #jesse latourette #britton sear

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crimsonrae · 4 years

Text

Across the Road, At the Brothel

Chapter Ten

Summary: Jaskier fell in love any day that the sun rose in the East. It was a trifling, pleasurable experience for him. Even when he was jumping out a window to avoid cuckolded husbands. So what happens when his trifles start to become more significant? Jaskier/OC. Some Yennefer/Geralt

A/N: Jaskier is just too adorable not to write about. This is a relationship development story with an OC. There will be smut in later chapters and plenty of angst.

Rating: Mature

Simple and Complex

"Twas early one morning a fair maid arose,

And slipped away with her lover's clothes,

And off to the fields a sure she goes

With naught e'na kiss in the morning early."

An unwilling smile pulled at Lyrra's lips as she smothered a sigh and attempted to pay her bard no mind. She finished hanging a few freshly laundered shirts and trousers as she listened to his approach. She had slipped out of her cottage long before Jaskier had woken. A basket of laundry in hand as she went to the stream – Geralt had roused enough from his place by her hearth to note her exit but seemed incline to rest longer himself. She was grateful for the solitude. It gave her a chance to gather her thoughts and calm the whirlwind that Jaskier had incited in her. She needed the distance and the time to figure out -

"Are you really just going to ignore me?"

Him.

Lyrra glanced around the shirt she was pinning up with a raised brow to see him standing proudly with his hands on his hips, "Did you say something?"

Jaskier narrowed his gaze at her in an odd mix of exasperation and amusement, "Lyrra."

"Jaskier." She intoned and bit back a smirk as he huffed.

A sly glint entered his eyes as he began to sing again.

"The bard arose and he discovered her sin,

His heart and his song composed quite the din."

Lyrra could not help the faint laugh that left her as she listened to him. Puckish amusement danced in his blue orbs as he sidled up next to her and slid an arm around her waist.

"And he had the will for to greet her so slim

With a kiss in the morning early."

She didn't need the last line of his song to see the kiss coming. A quiet sigh left her as she welcomed his familiar embrace. Her skin still tingled with the memory of their coupling and the calm she had achieved was swiftly thwarted by his touch. Reluctantly, she pulled away.

Jaskier smiled contentedly at her, "Good morning."

"It's afternoon, you slept the morning away." Lyrra replied lightly as she moved her basket under the tree her clothesline was tethered on, "And I'm rather sure those aren't the words to that song."

"Ehh, I'm a bard, pretty much gives me free rein to change the words." Jaskier shrugged. His keen eyes cataloged her every move, "You should've slept the morning away too. You were up as long as I was."

As if to prove his point, Lyrra found herself swallowing a yawn. In all actuality, she had been up longer than he had. Her mind had not been able to let the events of the night settle and her dreams had taken a dark turn once she had drifted off. She still wasn't sure what had come over her in that bathing chamber, she was never that bold. Yet, bold was the only way to describe her actions from the time he entered until...well. A blush rose to her cheeks and she could see a salacious grin crossing Jaskier's lips from her periphery at the sight. He knew well where her mind had gone.

"Stop it." She murmured lowly, refusing to look in his direction.

"Stop what?" His tone dripped with quiet laughter.

"You know what." She glowered faintly at him and wished that she still had a few shirts to pin to the line, if only to have something to do besides stare at him.

He tilted his head and his mirthful smile continued to tease her as he said, "You are adorably shy in the light of day. I do hope that I never make you stop blushing."

It was her turn to huff, "Jaskier."

He chuckled quietly and reached for her again, "Now what happened to the woman who had her wicked way with me last night, hmm?"

Lyrra was sure her face was scarlet now at his words as she allowed him to draw her close again, "She came to her senses."

"That sounds...not good." Jaskier murmured as he tilted her chin up and frowned bemusedly at her, "I suppose it's time we actually have that talk."

Lyrra shifted awkwardly under his gaze as she ruefully wondered which talk he was referring to, their tryst or her back. Neither was a conversation she particularly wanted to have, if for completely different reasons. She had been grateful when the topic had fallen to the wayside upon returning to her cottage.

She forced a smile when she realized she was taking too long to respond, "That talk."

"Yes, the one you've been trying to figure out how to avoid since I brought it up last night." Jaskier uttered faintly amused as she looked away somewhat sheepishly and bit back a sigh, "Believe it or not, not a conversation I want to have either, but as fun, as our little dance has been... we do need to -"

He waved his hand about as he tried to find the right words. Lyrra took pity on him as her smile turned a little more genuine, "Clear the air? Create some boundaries? Form an understanding?"

Jaskier nodded, "Yes, that. That would be good."

Lyrra stifled a giggle as she saw her nerves reflected in his expression. It amazed her how he could go from unerringly confident to uncertain in a matter of seconds, especially around her. She was not someone to be nervous around. Her fingers itched with the need to touch him, reassure him. The impulse to soothe his quiet anxiety was strong and unexpected. She wasn't a tactile person by any means, she usually went out of her way to avoid being touched. Jaskier was her opposite in this manner, he felt everything, like an overgrown toddler. He picked up, played, listened, and sometimes tasted everything with which he came into contact. He took comfort in touch, she knew this implicitly.

As if to prove her unspoken point, he seemed to sense her reluctance and reached out to caress her cheek, "What is it? Talk to me."

"It's nothing – I just...I tend to get carried away with you."

Jaskier raised a brow as he prodded her to continue, "And that's a bad thing?"

"It's not like me." She mumbled quietly and resisted the urge to fidget. She didn't know how to explain to him the maelstrom he made her feel. How she found him both comforting and disconcerting. How she allowed him more liberties than anyone since...since ever.

"Again, that's a bad thing?" He was more curious now than concerned. Jaskier had been far from surprised when he had woken to find her gone... simply disappointed. He was quickly beginning to learn that avoidance was his lover's instinctual response to anything that made her -

"It's an uncomfortable thing." Lyrra grimaced.

Uncomfortable. He smiled gently at her, at least she was somewhat aware of her tendencies, "You know, I typically don't do serious."

Lyrra blinked at the strange segue, "Really? Hadn't noticed."

He bit back a laugh at her dry tone as he made his point, "Serious is complicated and boring and messy. I like easy and fun, simple... but you, my lovely Lyrra, you are very complicated and serious. But I can say with absolute certainty you are not boring. You make me curious."

She merely stared at him still unsure where he was going with his little lecture.

"Curious. Confused. Uncomfortable." Jaskier answered placing a special emphasis on that last word, "No, strike that – you don't make me uncomfortable; you make me uncertain. None of that is necessarily a bad thing, you know?"

"Hasn't been my experience." Lyrra replied softly.

"No, I suppose it hasn't." His fingers brushed across her back and the brand he now knew rested there and she tensed at the reminder, "I don't think that I make you uncomfortable, either. I think it's that you enjoy yourself with me that discomfits you. Tell me you didn't enjoy yourself last night."

Her cheeks burned and she couldn't meet his eyes as she fumbled for a response, "I... you know, I did."

"Do you want to do it again?" He asked quietly and linked his fingers with hers.

Lyrra felt her stomach flutter at the question as she tried vainly to ignore the heat that rushed through her veins, "...yes."

"So do I." He murmured softly and unconsciously leaned into her, "Is that really so unsettling?"

Her grey eyes were drawn to his lips, "...yes. You unsettle me, Jaskier."

"How?"

"I crave you. I've known you barely a fortnight." Lyrra whispered, not missing the desirous look that entered his eyes at her words, "And I crave your kisses and your touch... even your voice. I don't crave people. I don't know what to do with you."

"I think you know exactly what to do with me." He couldn't help the tease that left his tongue even as she hit his arm, "Ow."

Vaguely annoyed, she attempted to pull away from him again, but he refused to let her step back. "Alright, okay. I'm sorry. I don't do serious, remember? It's just... this doesn't have to be hard, it can be simple."

Lyrra sighed frustrated, "Nothing about this is simple."

"Only because you're making it complicated." Jaskier pointed out somewhat humorously, "We already agreed to not get married and after last night, I think we're agreed we can't be merely friends. Especially, since we both admitted we want a repeat..." His words slowly caught up with him and he offered her an acknowledging nod, "Right, we may be a little complicated."

Lyrra snorted and shook her head at him. He was utterly ridiculous and she adored it despite herself, "Let me make this simple. I like you, Jaskier. That's simple. You like me back, that's simple too. Last night was great and yes, I want it to happen again, but I'm not sure that it should."

"Why?" He breathed the questioned startled.

The possibility of them not continuing their affair had not occurred to the bard, she could see that plainly and sighed again, "In a day, a week, sometime rather soon you're going to be gone, Jaskier... And I don't - I don't want to miss you."

He looked like he had been struck and Lyrra tried not to wince under his stare or to follow after him when he stepped away. She felt cold at his abrupt distance. Perhaps, she had worded that too harshly. Guilt twisted in her gut as she silently pleaded with him to understand what she couldn't say.

"Right." A bitter laugh escaped him, "Oh, avoidance should really be your middle name, Lyrrana."

"Jaskier-"

"No." He shook his head and cut her off, "You don't want to miss me? That's shit, if ever I heard it. Let's reword that, shall we? What you really mean to say is: Jaskier, you're going to hurt me, so let's not even bother."

A stone sank with a ferocious crash in her stomach as his words and gaze scolded her like an unruly child. She wanted to be angry with him, but he wasn't entirely wrong. She stared helplessly, not sure how to respond or even if she should.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. I really should've rented that room for us last night." He murmured almost sadly, "I'm not going to hurt you, Lyrra."

She swallowed tightly, "I know..."

"Do you?!" His disbelief seared her and she found she couldn't meet his gaze any longer, "Do I scare you, Lyrra? Last night did I -"

"No. No, Jaskier." Lyrra interrupted before he could finish his question, "I wanted last night. You didn't push me or force me."

Jaskier stared at her as he replayed everything he had said and done in that bathing chamber. A slow realization began to creep on him, "But I did scare you."

"No."

Despite the certainty in her voice, he knew it was a lie. It wasn't physical intimacy that was causing Lyrra's hesitance over their affair, it was emotional, "I did. When I saw your back. When I demanded you let me in, I scared you."

Lyrra's lips tightened into a thin line as she glared at him, "No."

Jaskier didn't seem to hear her as he muttered, "How am I attracted to the most emotionally stunted people on the bloody Continent?"

"Jaskier." She sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "Can we forget this conversation and go back to where you kissed me good morning?"

He looked as frustrated as she felt as he, in turn, uttered, "No. I promised you last night we go at your pace, not mine... I'll see if I can get my room back at the inn."

"You don't have to." Lyrra started softly.

Jaskier forced a smile at her and she hated it, "Yeah, I do. I think we both need our space. Simpler this way."

She went to protest further, but he cut her off once again.

"Oh...one more thing." A determined expression marred his visage as he swept back into her space and pressed his lips to hers. Lyrra gasped faintly at the sudden contact and he stole the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Unconsciously, her hands rose to tangle in his hair as he backed her against the trunk of the tree. A fiery thrill rushed through her veins as coherent thought left her and all she could do was cling to him as she simply felt.

She felt his warmth and the subtle strength in his body as he pressed against her. She felt his almost desperate grip on her hips and tasted his passion as he took his fill. He hadn't kissed her like this before... He was usually gentle, curious, searching, but this was demanding, almost possessive, it was dizzying. It wasn't until she completely melted into his touch that he pulled away and pressed his head to hers.

A smug gleam sparkled in his eyes, "That's what I thought too."

Utter confusion descended on Lyrra as she stared at him, "What?"

His smile was even smugger, "The thing about having this talk is that declaring our intentions goes both ways. I'll stay at the inn, but I fully intend to end up back in your bed and if I happen to fall into your heart, all the better. You don't get to ignore me. You don't get to be afraid of me, Lyrra. I'm not that scary."

No, he was terrifying.

He stole one more kiss before starting his trek to the cottage. Lyrra was left bewildered to stare after him. She shouted out the only thing that came to mind before he got too far, "This is far from simple!"

Jaskier spun on his heel and grinned, "Yeah, but I already told you – you're complicated. And I like you. Besides, I'm not that easy to get rid of, ask Geralt."

He disappeared around the bend a second later and Lyrra covered her face in disbelief, "He's absolutely mad."

»»————-　　————-««

Geralt felt a headache coming on as he headed back towards the woods. Enough time had passed since he had last checked the clearing that whoever had created the mutated fleders would have had the chance to find their corpses. He hoped anyway. Otherwise, he would need to figure out another way to track down those creature's creator and that meant spending more time in the Toussaint countryside than he was comfortable. Especially, now that Jaskier and Lyrra were...

He didn't know what the fuck those two were doing.

Which in part was why he had a headache now. Jaskier had been gathering his things when he had left the cottage, muttering under his breath about being drawn to emotionally constipated people.

Geralt didn't ask.

He would really rather not know.

What he had gleaned was that they were getting rooms at the inn. Despite his earlier protestations about overstaying their welcome in Lyrra's home, he wasn't looking forward to dealing with the general populace again. He pushed the thought aside as he moved quietly through the brush. The smell of rot had only become heavier in the days that followed and he no longer needed to follow his tracks back to the clearing. The other change was the faint buzzing of flies that filled his ears. The fleders decomp had attracted more insects. His teeth clenched as he resigned himself to the fact that the creator of the two beasts either had not bothered to look for them or the corpses hadn't been discovered yet.

There certainly hadn't been any talk amongst the locals about the discovery of two fleder corpses. He sighed as he stepped fully out of the woods and casually observed the clearing again. The flesh was almost completely gone from the fleders now... wait...fleder. One. Geralt tilted his head and eyed the shadows behind the first corpse. He wasn't mistaken there was only one body now. The other was gone.

He strode forward and bent to study the ground. There were drag marks, but that could have been from an animal dragging the body away for food. Yet, he found that scenario unlikely. Most scavengers could sense a potentially dangerous meal. The venom the fleder created would likely have made it toxic to any creature that attempted to eat it.

More silently than he had entered the clearing, he exited following the tracks. Even then, he could have followed his nose the stench was so bad. Whoever or whatever had come to claim the body had done so recently. It wasn't long before he stumbled onto a narrow path.

The trees had thinned and he could make out neatly organized rows of barren grape vines through the foliage. He must have been on the edge of one of the vineyards. Frowning, he continued on his hunt. Geralt noted the unnatural stillness in the air as he walked. He heard no birds or little critters scurrying through the brush. There were no distant sounds of farmhands, not even a breeze of wind to stir the leaves. A familiar twinge in his gut had him ill at ease, he wasn't the only predator afoot.

He must have walked a quarter-mile when he did finally hear it. It was low and shrill like an out of tune string on a lute. A song. Someone was singing. His twinge turned into a solid sinking instinct as he had a good assumption of what he was about to discover. His hand twitched for his sword as he dimly realized he had not brought the silver one with him. He had anticipated a human threat, not a monster. Geralt knew he had a choice to make – he could continue on and have his assumptions proven correct, but be ill-equipped to deal with the threat or he could head back and return later to a threat that had potentially disappeared.

Sighing quietly, he drew his sword and bent to pull a small silver dagger from his boot. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. He skirted to the edge of the path as he moved like a stalking cat around the bend. His golden eyes missed nothing as he took in the dilapidated ruins of an old manor. Past the tumbled walls he could make out the form of a woman. Her singing was louder now as she hunched over the rotted form of the missing fleder. A bruxa.

He watched for a moment as the bruxa continued to sing. Her head tilted back enough that he could see what appeared to be tears streaming down her cheeks as she caressed the festered corpse. Geralt frowned in confusion.

Had the bruxa made the fleders? Was that even possible?

It wasn't unheard of for bruxae to hunt in packs, but he had never known a bruxa to bother with a fleder. The creatures were usually too stupid and wild to be of notice to the high order vampires.

A low grumbling sounded behind him and Geralt stiffened. It seemed fate had taken his choice from his hand. He whipped around to see a very alive, very hungry looking fleder. The commotion had garnered the attention of the bruxa and her song turned into a screeching cry.

"Fuck." Geralt muttered.

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