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ptersparkers · 4 years

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hell froze over

summary: it’s a thursday afternoon and caliban’s taken you by surprise when he teleports to earth and asks you out on a date. not that you’d ever say no.

warnings: mentions of religion and typos, probably.

a/n: lol i can hear my parents sh*uting so i’m gonna write instead because!! we love distractions!!

add yourself to my taglist!

Sabrina Spellman swore that Hell would have to freeze over the second she saw Caliban get “soft” and care for mortals.

That day was today.

Greendale, being the small town that it was, housed many local favorites which included Dr. Cerberus’ diner, also dubbed as the local hangout of the Fright Club. There wasn’t much to say about the whole situation about who was running Hell with Sabrina’s clone down under and the Sabrina you knew alive and well, talking your ear off about Nick this, Harvey that, and Caliban this and that.

If you were being completely honest, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

So when Caliban teleported back up to Earth’s surface and caught you off guard leaving school grounds, you let out the loudest yell imaginable and dropped all of the books and stray pieces of paper you were carrying.

“Jesus Christ,” you said, clutching your heart. You bent down and started to pick up what you had dropped.

Caliban chuckled. “Not quite. Doubt he’s ever going to come to Earth.”

You didn’t pay much attention to his comment in favor of gathering everything that was on the concrete and Caliban frowned, bending down to help you pick up some notebooks that were closer to him than you. When you finally stood up, you moved strange of hair out from your face and huffed, annoyed.

“If you’re going to scare me, at least do it where people won’t see because I’m pretty sure I’ve embarrassed myself enough for this entire school year.” The corner of Caliban’s mouth lifted into a smirk when he saw you try to reassure your schoolmates and tugged on your backpack strap to get your attention.

“It’s a Thursday afternoon,” he stated.

“Yes?”

“Do you have any plans?”

You were taken off guard.

“What are you planning?” you asked with a raised brow.

“Nothing bad,” he promised. “Since Sabrina number two is down in Hell dealing with things for the weekend, I figured why not come up here and spend the day with my favorite mortal.” You laughed at the sentiment and fixed your backpack to keep the straps from falling.

“Well, I’m headed to the diner to study for a little bit before I head to cheerleading practice,” you explained. “I have about two hours before I have to be there so might as well eat and study. You know, kill two birds with one stone.”

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

“You want to watch me study for two hours? It’a gonna be kind of boring,” you explained.

“Think of me as your study-buddy.”

“Where did you even learn that phrase?”

“Sabrina’s rubbing off on me,” Caliban said with a low laugh. He gestured away from you. “Lead the way.”

The diner wasn’t too packed when you arrived and you chose a table big enough to let you put your laptop and notebooks on while having a plate of food beside you. Your water bottle sat proudly in Caliban’s hands as he looked at the various stickers stuck to it.

“This is quite peculiar,” he said.

“It’s a bunch of memories,” you explained. “This one’s from the camp grounds Harvey and I used to go to when we were younger. The orange one is from when Sabrina and I first became friends and that red one is the first sticker I saw with the world ‘Hell’ on it after coming back from, you know, Hell.”

Caliban smiled at that one. “You’re odd.”

You tilted your head and chuckled, not knowing how to respond to such a comment. You turned your attention to the screen in front of you, reading online articles assigned to you for your AP World History class.

“What is ‘AP’?” Caliban asked, looking at the textbook that sat beside your computer.

“It stands for advanced placement. It’s basically a college course for high schoolers so we don’t have to take it when we get to college and it gives us school credit.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It is,” you said, clicking out of the article you had finished taking notes on. “I think this while ‘Hell’ ordeal set me back because I haven’t been studying as much as I used to. At the end of the school year, everyone who takes AP classes has the chance to take a test that determines a score, which determines college credit.”

“You humans are so overachieving,” he commented, stealing a fry from your plate. “But I suppose being knowledgable isn’t bad.”

“Sometimes I feel like I put too much pressure on myself,” you confessed, your gaze back on the man sitting in front of you. “Like, does this really matter? Whether I ace or fail my AP tests won’t matter in the long run and it’s not like I can avoid going to Heaven or Hell.”

Caliban quirked an eyebrow, realizing that discovering the secrets of witches, Hell, and Heaven had left you in a turmoil that no one bothered to discuss. Sabrina was a witch and had accepted her fate on her sixteenth birthday. As for the other three mortals, they had some sort of lineage in magic that offered them solace. You did not.

“Going to Hell really messed with you, didn’t it?” You didn’t want to say anything in fear of offending Caliban. When he wasn’t trying to steal the throne from Sabrina, he was a decent person, you thought.

“Um,” you said, pausing, “I think it made me realize some things. I think those things are making me confused about the next step in my life and if what I’m doing is worth finishing.”

Caliban looked at you and the various books, notebooks, and writing utensils sprawled out on the table. He saw your color-coded planner, binders that kept your articles and paperwork in place, and the dark tint underneath your eyes. That was all he needed to know.

“I think you’re on the right path. From the looks of it,” he said, gesturing to the messy table in front of you, “you are so passionate and dedicated about learning and doing something with your life. Not many people can say the same. You have the advantage of knowing Hell exists and the second layer to humanity while others wonder about religion and faith. Use it to your advantage.”

“If I hear this correctly, it seems like you don’t want me to give up.”

“I don’t,” he said, almost too quickly. “Your ambition to do well on your tests resembles my quest to become King of Hell. As I have found out another way to rule Hell alongside Sabrina, I think you’re going to find out what you’re meant to do in life.”

“You’re starting to sound like someone who believes in God.”

He chuckled. “God and angels exist. You know that now. I suppose you’ll have to continue praying to find out what He has in store for you.”

You sat there, dumbfounded. It wasn’t too long ago that Caliban had been in the grand room, cursing angels and Heaven above out of frustration and anger. You and Sabrina had been waiting for him to finish throwing his tantrum before she could engage in business with him, so hearing Caliban talk about having faith in something that even he didn’t believe him gave you a glimmer of motivation.

“I don’t even know what to say,” you said softly, fiddling with a pen.

“Go out with me,” Caliban said. “To that drive in theater across town. You mentioned once that you like to go there when you’re stressed. We could forget about Heaven and Hell for one night.”

“Okay,” you said quietly, earning a gigantic grin from Caliban.

As you were about to pack up your belongings, you heard a “Oh for Satan’s sake” from behind you and turned to see Sabrina rolling her eyes, already dressed in her cheer uniform.

“Caliban, my clone and I are going to beat your ass if you hurt Y/N in any way,” she said in a sickly sweet tone. Caliban nodded, heading the message without much argument. You packed up your belongings and ran to use the restroom, leaving the two mystical beings alone.

“I really like her,” Caliban said after a brief pause. “And I know you don’t agree wholeheartedly but I intend to prove otherwise.”

“Y/N’s smart and won’t take anything from a boy if she’s not comfortable with it,” said Sabrina. “All I’m saying is you should watch you back should you ever hurt her in any way because it’s not just the Fright Club that’s gonna come after you.”

Caliban gulped and watched as you emerged, putting your hair in a low bun before walking outside to go to cheerleading practice.

“How does tomorrow night sound?” Caliban asked before you entered Harvey’s truck.

“Pick me up at six,” you said, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “And this time, please don’t teleport and scare me.”

The boy made of clay laughed and promised not to, watching as you climbed into the truck and waved goodbye. He saw Sabrina give him an all-knowing look, but he was determined to befriend your friends if it was the last thing he did.

Hell, he had an entire lifetime to get to know you.

***

BONUS:

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked as Harvey and Sabrina looked at you. The keys were in the engine but Harvey didn’t bother moving, opting to look between you and the spot where Caliban had teleported to Hell.

“I know he’s kind of a good guy now, but are you serious?” Harvey asked.

“What?” you asked, provoking him. “Am I not allowed to be in relationships like you two?”

“I’m just surprised, is all,” said Sabrina. “I mean, you did hate him when we first met him.”

“Absolutely nobody messes with my best friend,” you said. “You two, well, the other you, is ruling with him peacefully.”

“What is he tries to pull a trick?” Harvey asked.

You had to admit, that was a fair concern.

“I don’t think it’ll come to that, but if it does, there’s no way in Hell, literally, I’m choosing a boy over my best friends. Who, by the way, I’ve been friends longer with.”

Harvey seemed to like this answer and started the engine, driving back to the school grounds with you in between him and Sabrina.

“I guess Hell really did freeze over.”

***

taglist:

@princessdolan @ashyramblings-ficrecs.

#caliban x reader #caliban #caos x reader #sam corlett x reader #caliban imagines #sam corlett x you #caos imagines #chilling adventures of sabrina x reader #chilling adventures of sabrina #sabrina spellman #harvey kinkle #my writing #hell froze over

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ellewritesathing · 4 years

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Ten Things V

Summary: If there’s one thing you have to know about Harvey Kinkle, it’s that he rarely thinks things through. So when he meets (and falls for) Sabrina Spellman on his first day of Baxter High and finds out that she can’t date anyone until her tempestuous sister does, it seems like the obvious solution is to get someone to date her so he can go out with Sabrina. A not so obvious choice for the challenge is Caliban, but, hey, it’s not like Harvey thought that far.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 5

Word-count: 3.1k+

A/N: sorry for the delay girls and gays (and nonbinary pals) but i finally got accepted into uni so i left the house yesterday for the first time in three months lmao 💕

Harvey had been on cloud nine ever since he dropped Sabrina home after that party. Sure it had only been a few hours ago, but still. He was so incredibly, idiotically happy that nothing could ruin his mood. His dad being pissed at him for coming home late rolled right off his back. Tommy needing the truck and him having to walk to the diner just didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Sabrina kissed him.

Even waiting for Caliban when he was fifteen minutes late didn’t matter. Harvey just replayed last night in his head and the time flew by.

Caliban threw his stuff down in the booth before collapsing in. “Why are you doing that with your face?” The fact that he bumped the table and almost spilled Harvey’s drink didn’t bother him. Neither did the scowl on Caliban's face.

Harvey frowned slightly. “What am I doing with my face?”

“Well, it’s a bit better now,” Caliban said, stealing one of Harvey’s fries and munching it with a fury. “You were smiling.”

“Is smiling bad?”

“When it makes you like an idiot, yes.”

“Oh.” Caliban’s horrible mood didn’t matter. Harvey told himself that Caliban just wasn’t a morning person. Or an afternoon person. Or even really a night time person. But Harvey persisted. “It’s just ‘cause I had a really good night.”

Caliban rolled his eyes ever so slightly as he reached over for Harvey’s milkshake. He took a slurp from the straw before saying, “You and Blondie made up, I take it?”

“She asked for a ride home,” Harvey said before Caliban had even finished his sentence. “And at first I didn’t want to help because I was so mad but you should have seen her, man. I couldn’t not help her. So, I drove her home and then we stopped and I just started telling her about how shitty it was to be used and all this other stuff and then she kissed me.”

Caliban didn’t say anything as he stared at a baby a few tables over who was stuffing their face with mashed apples. When Harvey didn’t say anything for a while, Caliban eventually looked over at him. “Where'd she kiss you?”

“In the car!”

“No, I meant-” Caliban sighed and shook his head. He held up a hand and gave Harvey a tired smile. “Never mind. I’m happy for you Harvey, truly.”

“Thanks, man!” Harvey said cheerily before ordering another milkshake from the waitress and Caliban asked her to make it two. He turned back to Caliban with his almost permanent smile and asked, “So how did your night go?”

Caliban snorted and finished what was left of Harvey’s original milkshake. When Harvey didn’t respond again, he sighed and said, “She hates me because I didn’t want to make out with her in front of her house when she was a drunken mess.”

“What? You can’t know that she hates you,” Harvey said quickly. He scurried to sit up straighter and reached out to Caliban.

Caliban dug his phone out of his pocket and slid it over to Harvey, open on the chat between the two of you, with your last text being sent at 2am and reading: YOU’RE A REPUGNANT ASS AND I DIDN’T WANT TO KISS YOU ANYWAY.

“Oh,” Harvey said softly, locking the phone and sliding it back over to a very dejected-looking Caliban. “I mean, she didn’t say exactly that she hated you.”

“Harvey, I’m pretty sure that her calling me a repugnant ass means that she hates me,” Caliban said, rolling his eyes and reaching for where his cigarettes used to live. He cursed when he realized they weren’t there.

“Well, she called me the dumbest boy scout in the troupe but she punched Billy in the mouth when he said I was stupid,” Harvey said with a shrug after he thanked the waitress for the new milkshakes. “So maybe calling you a repugnant ass means that she really cares about you but doesn’t want to admit it.”

Caliban was quiet, seemingly mulling it over. Then, with no warning, he snatched up his new milkshake and angrily started drinking it.

“But, uh-” Harvey shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It felt the moment for asking had passed but he couldn't help himself. “You’re still gonna ask her to prom, right?” The glare Caliban shot at him blew Harvey straight off cloud nine. “It’s just that I really wanna take Brina to prom, you know, and she can’t go if her sister doesn’t and-”

“If I say that I’ll try, will you stop talking?” Caliban asked. Harvey didn’t want to risk it, so he nodded quickly. “Fine then. I’ll ask.”

“Seriously? Dude, you are the best friend I’ve ever-” Caliban threw a fry at him and Harvey stifled a laugh. “Okay, okay, no more talking. You got it.”

Caliban seemed content and went back to glaring at the very messy baby across from him.

“But, uh, one last thing?” Harvey asked quietly. He held up a napkin that he’d fastened to a straw to show surrender. “A wise man once told me ‘people eat that cute affectionate shit up.’ I think you should keep that in mind?”

“Is that all, oh wise one?” Caliban asked. Harvey nodded and took a sip of his milkshake. “Fine. I’ll take it under consideration.”

---

Caliban had already made up his mind about fixing things with you, but - now that Nicholas Scratch had found him in the street and started harassing him - he had second thoughts. Not about you (you were a perfect pain in the ass; nothing could change his mind about you) but about the whole situation. He didn’t want to ask you out if it meant Nicholas Scratch could benefit.

“Come on, man, you’ve gotta do this,” Nicholas said for the millionth time. “You’re the only person that can stomach her.”

Caliban wondered how many times he’d have to hit Nicholas’ head before it made a dent in his hair gel. His skull seemed more malleable.

“Better yet: You’re the only one that can make her act like a human being,” Nicholas said. He let out a long breath when Caliban’s only response was to glare at him. “Fine. How much is gonna take?”

“Excuse me?”

“How much money is it gonna take for you to do this?” Nicholas dug his wallet out of his pockets. “You said three hundred a few weeks ago but that was before you knew she's literally Satan incarnate, so I’m guessing you want more?”

“Listen here, I don’t-”

“I’ll give you five hundred dollars right now if you agree to take her to prom.”

Caliban’s resolve faltered. Five hundred dollars was a lot of money. It could really help out with his uncle’s medical bills. Caliban’s jaw tightened as he thought about it. If he was already planning on asking you out, was the added money really that bad?

Nicholas patted Caliban’s arm as he handed him the money. “Don’t feel bad, man. Everybody’s got a price.”

---

You spent most of the day after the party being in an even worse mood than you usually were, alternating between throwing up and eating anything and everything that Hilda baked, and Sabrina constantly bubbling over with stories about her and Harvey didn’t help your mood. Seeing as you’d thrown up more than you’d like, you locked yourself in your room until you had to leave for school on Monday.

You left while Sabrina was still asleep so you didn’t have to listen to her perfect stories about her perfect life on the decidedly not perfect drive to school. With the music turned all the way up and empty streets keeping you company, it was easy to drown out most of your bitterness. Your more-or-less of a good mood soured when you saw Caliban in the parking lot.

He was just as annoyingly good looking as he was at the costume party, just not in the flowy white shirt anymore. Today he was dressed in a yellow ringer shirt with gray accents, his practically permanent leather jacket, beat-up converse, and a pair of irritating black jeans. To top it all off, he didn’t look like he’d spent the weekend throwing up or like he had a pounding headache. The bastard.

Ordinarily, you would have tried to hit him with your car, but Caliban was already safely inside the school doors by the time your engine had switched back on. After some light profanities, you gathered your things and prepared yourself for yet another mundane day at Baxter High.

Luckily, everyone must have sensed the thundercloud over your head because they stayed out of your way more than usual. Thanks to the added space, things were actually looking up by the time you got to the library for lunch.

And then came the first flower.

“Harvey-”

He cut through your warning with his winning, boy-next-door smile and set a single red carnation on your table. “Chill. It’s not from me,” Harvey teased. He seemed caught off-guard by your silence. He drummed on the table. “See you around.”

As if that wasn’t suspicious enough, Harvey disappeared just as quickly as he’d arrived, and you barely had time to pick at the carnation’s edges before the next one showed up. The guy bringing this one was smaller, more unsure, but just as cute as Harvey was. And he had better hair.

“It’s Theo, right?” you asked, looking up from the red carnation in his hand.

“You know my name?” Theo asked. Oh man, if messing with Harvey was fun then this adorable kid was going to be something else.

“Only if I’m right.” You reached out to take the carnation from him before he combusted. “Are you going to tell me what all this is about?”

Theo tilted his head to the side as he took a few steps back. He had some nerve. “Are you gonna beat me up if I don’t?”

And he was gone before you had a chance to come up with something witty. Clearly, all the alcohol from the party had rotted your brain cells and made you lose your touch, and it was pissing you off. Just like the string of nerds who kept coming up to your table and leaving you with more and more red carnations.

You’d made up your mind to kick the teeth in of the next person who gave you a flower when a very familiar voice took over the PA system and tv screens.

“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Caliban and I really, really messed things up with a girl.” He was sitting on his usual bench near the soccer fields, squinting slightly in the sun. He scratched his forehead for a moment. How did he hijack the systems? “She won’t take my calls or answer any of my texts, so I had to get creative. Apologies for those of you who really buzz one off to lunch-time announcements but- oh shit.” Then, to the person behind the camera: “Can you follow me?”

Whoever was behind the camera must have said yes because soon they were both running for the bleachers. Judging by shoes and laughter, the cameraman was Harvey, and - judging by the blurring shots behind them - they were being followed by Hawthorne and the basketball coach. Despite your best attempts not to, you felt yourself smile.

“I’m afraid I have to cut my monologue short and get straight to the embarrassing crap- No, that first bit wasn’t embarrassing, you piece of shit. At least I don’t kiss people on the top of their fucking-”

The video cut off briefly and when it returned, Caliban and Harvey were running again.

“We’re back? Great.” Caliban stopped for a moment and turned, grabbing onto the camera and steadying it for a moment. He had bits of gold in his eyes. Asshole. “I’m sorry. Here goes my attempt at making it up to you, princess.”

Caliban paused briefly, taking a breath, and then launching into a rendition of Frank Sinatra’s I love you. You had to admit, it was pretty impressive how he kept singing despite simultaneously outrunning the authorities chasing him down. But still, you were pissed. A song didn’t change the fact that he-

Oh, no. Harvey went down. Caliban helped him up but it slowed them down too much and now Hawthorne and the others right on top of them. The camera shut off right after Caliban told you to call him (with an annoying, butterfly inducing wink) and Hawthorne told him to shut up.

You were laughing before you could stop yourself, and you were still smiling embarrassingly when Sabrina slid into the seat across from you and placed another red carnation on your table. She smiled sweetly and gave you a moment to settle into your familiar scowl.

“So are you going to forgive him?” Sabrina asked.

You crossed your arms and leaned back in your chair. “Because he gave me some flowers and sang me a song?”

“Because he got you an entire flower shop and got detention for the rest of the semester,” Sabrina said in her ‘you know I’m right so just listen to me’ voice. If she wasn’t your sister, you might have punched her.

Still, you considered it. The punching, not the forgiving.

“He didn’t actually say he was sorry,” you said lamely.

“Sorry for not kissing you after you got drunk out of your mind and threw up on him?”

No, for leading you on. For being there while you were sloppy and vulnerable and then rejecting you. If that wasn't enough, he rejected you after you spilled your guts to him in that god-awful car of his.

“Caliban seems like a pretty good guy underneath that leather jacket,” Sabrina said in a more gentle voice as she reached out for your hand. When you didn’t meet her halfway, she settled for picking up one of the carnations and standing up. She walked around the table to stand in front of you. “And, believe it or not-” she tucked the carnation behind your ear and smiled “-I think you deserve a good guy.”

You tightened your jaw and looked at the table. “You just want to go to prom with Harvey.”

“That too,” Sabrina said with a smaller smile. She patted your shoulder and disappeared into the depths of the library, leaving you alone with your two dozen red carnations and even more staring teens.

---

After being berated for his lack of respect for authority and blatant abuse of school resources, Caliban was forced through the rest of the school day and locked in a classroom with about fifteen other ‘hoodlums’ and Wardwell. The hoodlums were told to keep to themselves, and Wardwell typed away at her computer.

As boring as it was, the thought of you chewing out each and every kid he had deliver flowers to you was a comfort. He wondered how you took the broadcast, if you even saw the broadcast. You had to have seen it though, right? It was everywhere. And it was pretty hard to ignore. But if you were still mad at him, you definitely would have left after five seconds.

Although Caliban still had an allotted hour and twenty-three minutes to wonder if you’d given his little stint the time of day, he was snapped out of his thoughts by the door creaking open behind him. He turned slightly to see you, very awkwardly, making your way up to Wardwell with a red carnation in your hair.

Caliban smiled.

“Ms. Spellman,” Wardwell said with her usual empty smile. “You’re late.”

“Oh, no. I don’t have detention,” you said. As Wardwell checked something on her computer, you turned to Caliban and nodded your head towards the window.

Caliban frowned slightly, tilting his head. Were you organizing a jailbreak for him? Uncharacteristic but charming.

“Then why are you here?” Wardwell asked, turning her attention back to you.

“I, uh-” You scratched your head and nodded towards the window again. “I had some questions about the English assignment.”

“Which are?”

If it wasn’t so painful watching you blunder through this, Caliban might have actually enjoyed this. Nevertheless, he started sliding out of his seat and heading for the window.

“Uh, I don’t get why everyone thinks Elizabeth is a jerk for rejecting Darcy the first time,” you said. “I mean, he was just a total ass- jerk. He was a jerk to her and then basically called her an idiot for rejecting him.”

Wardwell started turning back to the computer - where she would clearly see that Caliban wasn’t where he was supposed to be when you slammed your hands on the desk. Wardwell looked like a deer caught in headlights and Caliban stifled a laugh.

“But that’s not what I’m here to talk about!” You grabbed Wardwell’s arms and pulled her to her feet. “I’m here because of some really nasty graffiti in the girls’ bathroom. Like really, horrendous stuff. Like, okay, yeah, some of it is quotes about stuff I’ve said to Billy, and I’ll admit that they’re a bit graphic but I didn’t write them on the walls, you know? I just say them-”

Caliban wasn’t sure how long you kept going on after he snuck out the window, but it certainly took you a long time to meet him in the parking lot. And thanks to him being new and reformed, he couldn’t even smoke to pass the time.

When you eventually did meet him, you didn't look quite as pissed off as usual but you were definitely still annoyed. You poked Caliban in the chest as you stormed up to him, the flower wobbling slightly as you did. “You owe me,” you told him. “Wardwell made me show her the graffiti in the bathroom and asked which quotes were mine.”

“It’s not my fault the people find your witticisms endearing,” Caliban said with a smile. You didn’t say anything as you huffed and leaned against the bike rack next to him with a huff. “But thank you for the prison break. It was appreciated.”

“It better be goddamn appreciated,” you mumbled.

Caliban laughed and turned to look at you. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t even sure if I could expect you to call me.”

“I didn’t have a pen,” you said with a shrug, not looking at him.

"You didn't have a pen?" Caliban asked.

"I may have deleted your number after calling you a repugnant ass and you responded with 'so you're still thinking about my ass?'" You looked over at him with another shrug. "Not my fault."

Caliban smiled down at you. "No, definitely not."

You clenched your jaw slightly and pressed yourself off the bike rack. “You wanna get out of here before they figure out you’re gone, Sparky?”

Part 6

Tagged: @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @miss--moose @marrypuffsstuff @harryscarolinaa @igorsbby @foji2000 @hxlalokidottir @artaxerxesthegreat @thxmagic @strawberriesandknives @xealia @hotmessindisguise @acciomaximoff @reheated-coffee @shelby-x @perseny-blog @millie-753 @luneerius @shizzybarnaclee @lettherebelovex @throughparisallthroughrome @ietss @thebookwormlife @mechanicalanimalz @mariamermaid @nqbmf @caliban-is-my-girl @shephard17895 @music-movies @andie-kathleen @clockworks-world-to-fandoms @luquincy @marina468 @olivia-west-allen @drrramaaaqweeen @roxytheimmortal

#Caliban #caliban imagine #ten things #caliban x reader #caos #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

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crackspinewornpages · 4 years

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The Tempest- William Shakespeare

A1S1

There is a storm at sea, the shipmaster tells the boatswain to order the mariners to move or they’ll run aground. Alonso asks them where the shipmaster is they keep telling him to stay below, Gonzalo tells them to be patient, they tell him to leave them alone and go below. (storms at sea are scary as shit if the professional sailors are telling you to get below get the fuck below) Gonzalo tell them to remember who they have onboard, they’re not having it “None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor: if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more:”p.1 Tell him again to get to his cabin and out of their way, Gonzalo says he looks like a drowning man, “If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miresable.”p.1

The boatswain call orders and ask if Sebastian, Gonzalo and Antonio want to drown when they come back up. Sebastian curses at him and the Boatswain tells him to work then, (I like these boatswain they don’t take shit) Antonio then insults him saying they’re not afraid as he is of drowning. (you say that now) Gonzalo warrants him for drowning but the ship is leaky and the boatswain give more orders. The mariners show up soaking wet lamenting that it’s hopeless before leaving. Gonzalo wants to help them, Sebastian and Antonio complain and Gonzalo says he’ll be hanged yet in spite of the water. The sailors call farewell to each other, Antonio wants to sink with the king and Gonzalo says, “Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground:”p.2

A1S2

On an island Miranda asks her father to stop the storm, “If by your art, my dearest father, you have put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.”p.2 She watched a ship sink and suffers thinking everyone had drowned. Prospero tells her there’s nothing to worry about, he’s taken care of her, but she is ignorant of the art and what he is. (that’s because you never taught her) He lays down his mantle for her to sit on as he tells her (and also the audience) his backstory. He’s already made sure no one died in the wreck, Miranda interrupts that he’s tried before to tell the story but stopped since it wasn’t the time. Prospero asks if she remembers before they were on the island when she was three. He doubts but she remembers some women that took care of her.

He says it’s been twelve years since he’s been Duke of Milan and she was practically a princess. Miranda asks what happened to change that, by blessed and foul play. “By foul play, as thou say’st, were we hear’d thence: but blessed help hither.”p.3 His brother Antonio, he loved him and put him in charge of his state and governmental duties while he studied his magic. Antonio then betrayed him, turning the state against him. “to credit his own lie,-he did believe he was indeed the duke: out o’ the substitution, and executing th’out word face of royalty, with all prerogative:-hence his ambition growing,”p.3 (well you ignored your duties and shoved them off on him of course he would feel like it was him that deserved the title) He played the role for Prospero, all he cared for was his library, but Antonio swayed the king of Naples to Miranda’s shock. “I should sin to think but nobly of my grandmother: good wombs have borne bad sons.”p.3 (oh sweety)

Prospero continues that the king exiled them both in the night since they couldn’t execute them, they were sent out in a rickety boat in the middle of the sea. (so still executed and why Miranda too she’s three) Miranda kept his spirits up as by divine intervention they came to this island. Gonzalo felt sorry for them and sent water and food, clothes and his favorite books and Miranda wishes she could meet him. Prospero finishes that on the island he educated her, Miranda is thankful but still, what’s his reason for the storm. Bountiful Fortune brought his enemies to shore but no more questions and orders her to sleep. (wouldn’t it be great to just sleep on common)

Prospero calls up Ariel who comes to answer his commands, she played out the tempest as he wanted with waves and fire. All but the mariners plunged into the foam and Prince Ferdinand was the first to jump. None of them were harmed and she scattered them around the island and Ferdinand is alone. The ship is in harbor and the fleet is bound for Naples after seeing the ship supposedly wreck. (and not bother to look for survivors) Prospero says she performed well but there’s more work to be done, Ariel complains, “Let me remember thee what thou hast promis’d which is not yet preform’d me.”p.5 her freedom. She’s served without complaint for a year, he asks if she’s forgotten that he already freed her from Sycorax, no.

Sycorax from Argier, banished since they couldn’t kill her with her child and was brought here. Ariel was her servant, too delicate to act on her abhorred commands so was imprisoned in a pine tree for a dozen years even after Sycorax died. She was left alone with only her human shaped son Caliban, who Prospero now has in his service. He heard her torment and freed her, (you already freed her from the tree what else bounds her) she’s thankful and will do as he wishes. (this is on the verge of an abusive relationship ‘I got you out of your bad situation after you refused to serve someone now serve me or I won’t free you’) After two more days he’ll release her, she asks what to do, he has her be like a sea nymph and be invisible to all but him. She leaves and he wakes up Miranda to see Caliban and he calls him to do orders.

Caliban comes in insulting them and Prospero promises painful cramps that night for it. Caliban says this is his island and it was his mother’s and they took it from when they first came. They treated him well and he loved them and he showed them around, his mistake (really makes you feel sympathy for him). Prospero calls him a lying slave who tried to rape Miranda (sympathy gone) and calls him abhorred. He took pity to him and taught him, “which any print of goodness will not take, being capable of ill!”p.6 So he was deservedly confined to the rock and orders him to find firewood quickly or he’ll give him cramps.

Ariel comes back singing with Ferdinand following, wondering where the music is coming from. Prospero asks Miranda what she sees, she calls it a spirit, he corrects her. “A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows and strays about to find ‘em.” “I might call him a thing divine; for nothing natural I ever saw so noble.”p.7 Ferdinand sees Miranda, calls her a goddess and asks if she could show him how to live here and if she is a maid. (like that’s the most important thing right now) She is a maid and he’s happy to hear his own language and wishes he were in Naples.

Prospero says he is the Duke of Milan and to himself that they could control him and he’ll free Ariel for this. Miranda wonders why her father speaks like this, “This is the third man that e’er I saw; the first that e’re I sighe’d for: pity move my father to be inclin’d my way!”p.7 Ferdinand says he’ll make her the Queen of Naples and Prospero acts upset but is happy at the development. He acts like he thinks Ferdinand is a spy but Ferdinand and Miranda protest this, Prospero calls him a traitor and tells Miranda not to talk to him and he’ll be a prisoner. Miranda pleads for him Prospero orders him to put his sword up and Miranda begs. Prospero warns he’ll scold her for advocating for Ferdinand when she ‘sonly seen two men, she says she doesn’t want to see any others. (I know it’s part of the plan but there is point since this is the only man she’s seen that she isn’t related to or tried to assault her) Ferdinand says he feels his father’s loss, “to whom I am subdued, are but light to me, might I but through my prison once a day behold this maid:”p.8 (Shakespeare and his insta love) Prospero is happy his plan worked but asks what use he is, Miranda tells him her father is better natured, Prospero says he’ll be free but to do as he commands.

A2S1

On another part of the island everyone else is fine and Gonzalo tell them to cheer up, “So have we all, of joy; for our escape is much beyond our loss.”p.8 Their woe is common in sailor widows but this is a miracle they survived, Antonio, Sebastian and Alonzo aren’t impressed. (if I went through that I wouldn’t either) They look around the island and notice their clothes are untouched from the sea, fresh like when they put them on in Africa for the wedding. Sebastian calls it a sweet marriage and hopes they’ll return and they talk of the widow Dido. Alonzo wishes he didn’t marry his daughter there since they wouldn’t be her now and Ferdinand wouldn’t be lost and he won’t see them or Naples again.

Francisco tells him Ferdinand may be alive he saw him swimming in the sea to shore, Alonzo doesn’t think so. Sebastian says he may thank himself for this loss, not blessing Europe with his daughter rather than losing her to an African, banishing her from his eye. All of them including her between loathness and obedience, lost Ferdinand now Milan has more widows it’s all his fault. (not helping Antonio) Gonzalo chides him for speaking like that, rubbing salt in the wound when he should make him feel better instead of bringing down their moods. “It’s foul weather in us all, good sir, when you are cloudy.”p.9

Gonzalo wishes for a planation by contraries. “No occupation; all men idle, all; and women too, but innocent and pure; no sovereignty-“p.10 Sebastian and Antonio cut him off, Gonzalo says all things with common nature should produce without endeavor but nature should bring abundance to feed people. (you know farming is a ting) Sebastian and Antonio mock him, Alonzo wants to join in, Antonio says they’re laughing at Gonzalo, who says they laugh at nothing. This is when Ariel arrives (thank god) invisible with music and all but Alonzo Sebastian and Antonio sleep, as he told Alonzo he’ll guard he does so and Ariel leaves.

Sebastian remarks on the strange drowsiness, Antonio blames the climate but they’re not tired. Antonio claims to see a crown on his head, Sebastian says that’s sleep talk but they’re wide awake and they talk. Antonio says the lord is weak remembrance, “for he’s a spirit of persuasion, only professes to persuade,-the king, his son’s alive, ‘tis as impossible that he’s undrown’d as he that sleeps here swims.”p.11 Sebastian doesn’t have hope and Antonio asks who’s the next heir, Claribel Queen of Tunis. Antonio says there’s space, how can Claribel measure back to Naples Sebastian could rule. (killing the king to take the throne doesn’t usually end well)

Sebastian believes he follows and remembers how Antonio supplanted Prospero. Antonio says it’s true, now look at him, his conscience doesn’t bother him. Here lies Sebastian’s brother, “no better than the earth he lies upon, if he were that which now he’s like, that’s dead; whom I, with this obedient steel,-three inches of it,-can lay to bed for ever;”p.11 They plan to frame Gonzalo and talk as Ariel reenters and sing-warns Alonzo awake and he sees the two armed. Sebastian lies that they heard a bellowing, didn’t he hear, he heard nothing, (my god you’re dumb to believe this) Gonzalo heard a humming and should search. Alonzo wants to look for his son and they leave, Ariel says that Prospero shall know what she did and the king is looking for Ferdinand.

A2S2

Caliban is walking, carrying a bundle of wood, wishing Prospero would get sick then Trinculo shows up. Trinculo is lamenting there’s nothing to make shelter since another storm is coming when he sees Caliban. “What have we here? A man or a fish? Dead or alive?”p.12 Then he goes on saying he smells like old fish before saying he’s an islander that suffered a thunderbolt. (we get it he’s ugly) As the storm is coming he decides to wait under a gaberdine until it passes, that’s when Stephano shows up singing and drinking ad Caliban tells him to sop tormenting him.

Stephano asks what’s the matter thinking it’s a trick and Caliban thinks he’s a spirit tormenting him. Stephano wonders how this monster knows his language but then decides he could take him to Naples as a present for royalty. (look up human zoos) Caliban keeps saying not to torment him he’ll bring the wood faster and Stephano decides to give him wine to stop his fit. Trinculo hears Stephano and scares him when he comes out but convinces him he’s no devil but is his friend. Stephano asks him about Caliban and Trinculo tells him he thought he was struck by a thunderbolt and he hid out of the storm and Stephano warns him not to shake him because his stomach is upset.

Caliban realizes they’re not spirits, “That’s a brave god and bears celestial liquor. I will kneel to him.”p.13 Stetphano asks Trinculo how he escaped, he himself was saved by a sack and his bottle, Caliban swears on said bottle to be his servant. Trinculo says he swam to shore like a duck Stephano says he’s more like a goose and gives Trinculo a drink and he has more his by the seaside. Caliban asks where he came from, he’s the man in the moon and Trinculo calls him a weak monster. (they keep calling him a moon calf I don’t get it) Caliban will show them around and calls Stephano a god and he’ll be his subject and Trinculo finds it all funny. (well this is the comedy part) “A plague upon the tyrant that I serve! I’ll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee, thou wonderous man.” “A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of a poor drunkard!”p.13 Caliban goes on about the things he’ll do for him and Stephano has him lead the way believing everyone else is drowned and Caliban starts singing about his new master and freedom.

A3S1

Ferdinand is carrying a log saying some sports are painful and nobly undergone to rich ends, his task is heavy but Miranda gives him pleasure, he has to move a thousand logs and she cries seeing him. Miranda wants him not to work so hard and rest, her father will be busy for three hours, she’ll carry the logs. Ferdinand tells her he’d rather break his back than her dishonor herself, Miranda says it will be easy for her as she wants to do it and he doesn’t, he looks weary. “No, noble maiden; ‘tis fresh morning with me when you are by at night.”p.14 (dude she already likes you) He asks her name, she gives it against what her father said.

Ferdinand calls her the top of admiration, he’s liked several women but never any without defect or a full soul. “but you, O you! So perfect and so peerless, are created of every creature’s best.”p.14 (you just met her lighten up on the praise a bit) Miranda’s never seen another woman besides herself, she call men like him a good friend and her father, but wouldn’t wish any companion but him. Ferdinand says he’s a prince and a king wouldn’t endure this and has her speak he’ll be at her service for her sake. She asks if he loves her, “I beyond all limit of what else; the world, do love, prize, honour you.”p.14 (he fell hard and fast) Miranda cries because she’s happy and unworthy, she’ll be his wife and if not, die his maid or servant. Ferdinand says he’ll be her husband, “Ay ‘with a heart as willing as bondage e’er of freedom: here’s my hand.” “And mine, with my heart int and not farewell till half an hour hence.”p.15 They leave and Prospero is glad his plan is working but there’s still much to perform. (his machinations lay undetected for years for he is a master of deception)

A3S2

On another part of the island with Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo are drinking and Trinculo says that including them there’s five on the island who are the other two. Caliban say he won’t serve him as he is not valiant. Trinculo asks if he lies being half fish and monster, Caliban asks Stephano if he will let Trinculo mock him. Stephano says he’s his subject and won’t suffer indignity to Caliban’s thanks. Ariel comes invisible as Caliban is telling them he’s in servitude to a tyrant that cheated him of the island, he’s not lying. “I say, by sorcery he got this isle; from me he got it: if thy greatness will, revenge it on him,”p.15 he’ll be lord and he’ll serve him. He’ll have him go to sleep so Stephano can put a nail in his head, Ariel tells them they can’t startling Caliban who beseeches Stephano to beat up Trinculo for interrupting. (I guess all this was funny back then)

Stephano tells him to stop and Trinculo says he did nothing and Ariel says he lied angering Stephano who hits Trinculo. Trinculo says it’s not him, blaming the bottle causing Caliban to laugh. Stephano tells hm to continue his tale, it’s Prospero’s habit to sleep in the afternoon that’s when you can brain him or knife him, (poison him drown him bash him on the head) burn his books and damn his daughter. She’ll be his bed and bore his brood (who whoa whoa this just stopped being funny) and Stephano likes this plan and asks Trinculo if he is. In a half hour they’ll carry it out and they sing but stop when Ariel plays a tune. Stephano calls the devil to show itself Trinculo begs forgiveness and Stephano mercy, Caliban says not to be afraid, “the isle is full of noises, sounds and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.”p.16 Sometimes music, sometimes voices and Stephano would like it when he is king and they follow after it.

A3S3

On another part of the island is everyone else, Gonzalo says he can’t go any farther. Alonzo doesn’t blame him he’s tired too and lost hope he’ll find Ferdinand alive and Antonio and Sebastian talk about their next advantage. There’s music and Prospero, invisible, watches as a banquet appears and shapes invite the king to everyone’s amazement. Gonzalo says if he reported this in Naples no one would believe him, the islanders have a monstrous shape but are mannered, more kind than most humans you’d find. (well given your current company I can understand) Prospero aside, “Honest lad, thou hast said well; for some of you there present are worse than devils.”p.17 (see he agrees with me) The shapes vanish but leave the feast behind and Antonio won’t taste it and Gonzalo assures there’s nothing to fear. (dude that’s fairy food there’s probably broken church glass in it)

Ariel arrives looking like a harpy in thunder and lightning and the banquet vanishes. He calls them men of sin, the sea belched them up on an uninhabited island, “you ‘mongst men being most unfit to live. I have made you mad;”p.17 (I’ve noticed Shakespeare been using a lot of apostrophes in this play I don’t know why) They draw their swords she calls them fools she and her fellows are ministers of fate, they might as well harm wind and water, she is invulnerable. “But remember,-for that’s my business to you,-that you three from Milan did supplant good Prospero; expos’d into the sea, which hath requit it, him and his innocent child.”p.17 A foul deed the powers didn’t forget, she enchanted everything against their peace and gave Ferdinand worse, only death, this isle is nothing but sorrow to them. She disappears and the scene comes back and Prospero is happy with the performance and he’ll go back to Ferdinand and Miranda. Alonzo is freaking out (pretty reasonable reaction) and Sebastian declares he’ll fight it and Antonio and Gonzalo say they’re desperate from their guilt.

A4S1

Prospero says he’s punished and to make amends to Ferdinand he’s given his daughter, but she’ll outstrip his praise, he believes it. Prospero says she’s his gift but if he takes her virginity before the ceremony he is in for shit. Ferdinand says he won’t succumb to lust because he hopes for a fair and long life. (can I just see a modern day version of this where Prospero’s magic staff can turn into a loaded shot gun like it’s played straight but everyone is a country redneck) Ariel then arrives, she performed well and he needs her to do it again, bring them to this place and show them the couple. Basically says he’s setting up a blind date with a twink (actual word used) and she asks if he loves her dearly. (is there some Stockholm thing going on) Iris, Ceres and Juno come to perform a masque to celebrate the betrothal and bless the couple. Juno and Ceres sing and Ferdinand is in awe of the spirits, “Let me live her ever: so rare a wonder’d father and a wise, make this place paradise.”p.19

Prospero tells him to be quiet or their spell won’t work and Iris calls the nymphs to help celebrate. The spirits celebrate by dancing and vanish when Prospero remembers Caliban’s conspiracy to kill him. (yeah there’s still a conflict) Ferdinand and Miranda note he’s acting weird, Prospero tells Ferdinand to be cheerful the spirits he called just disappeared but he’s troubled and tells them to retire and he’ll go for a walk to calm down. When they leave he calls Ariel they have to prepare for Caliban and she tells him they are drunk and she charmed them with music into a pool. “A devil, a born devil, one whose nature nurture can never stick; on whom my pains, humanely taken, are all lost, quite lost;”p.20 (I can see how people can see Caliban as a racist caricature) and Prospero swears to plague them all.

Ariel comes back with fancy clothes and hangs them on a line and she and Prospero are invisible as Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo arrive soaking wet. Caliban warns them to walk softly and Stephano says the so called harmless fairy has only played a prank on them and he and Trinculo claim to smell horse piss and are getting impatient. Caliban tells them to be patient and talk quietly and Trinculo complains of losing his bottle in the pool. Caliban tells them to be quiet as they are here to enter the cell and do the deed but Trinculo becomes distracted by the fancy outfits. Caliban gets irritated that they’re going through the clothes and losing time and They start to pile the outfits in his arms. (I guess people had low standards of comedy back then because this is just annoying back to the plot please) Sprits enter in the shapes of hunting hounds and drive them off with Prospero cheers them on. “Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour lie at my mercy all mine enemies: shortly shall all my labours end, and thou shalt have the air at freedom.”p.21

A5S1

Prospero and Ariel enter his cell, his plans are coming to a head and Ariel tells him he said at the sixth hour their work would end. He did say that and asks about the king and the others, just as he left them in the line-grave until he releases them. They’re dismayed and Gonzalo is crying and if he saw them his feelings would change, she’d think so if she were human, he would too. “Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick, yet with my nobler reason ‘gainst my fury do I take part: the rarer action is in virtue than in vengene: they being patient, the sole drift of my purpose doth extended not a frown further.”p.22 (is this like a thrown in lesson at the end of the episode) He has her release them then soliloquys that he’ll give up his magic, “I’ll break my staff, bury it certain fathoms in the earth, and deeper than did ever plummet sound, I’ll drown my book.”p.22 (As this is apparently the last play Shakespeare wrote people see it as a goodbye to is playwriting besides that I can see Prospero decide to give it up as studying magic and putting off his duties was what got him in this situation in the first place)

Ariel reenters with Antonio and the others standing charmed in the circle Prospero made and speaks to them. He calls Gonzalo honorable and loyal who saved him then calls out the king and his brother, “-most cruelty didst thou, Alonzo, use me and my daughter: thy brother was a furtherer in the act;”p.22 Says he and Sebastian planned to kill the king and he forgives them and tells Ariel to get his hat and rapier and she’ll be free. (what binds her she’s already out of the tree) She sings as she helps Prospero and he says he’ll miss her and for her to wake the sleeping ship crew and bring them there.

Gonzalo says trouble and amazement are on the island and asks for some heavy power to get them out, then Prospero introduces himself and welcomes them. Alonzo asks where he’s been or if he’s there to abuse him and begs forgiveness and how is he living here. Prospero welcomes them as his friends except for Antonio and Sebastian, “I here could pluck his highness’ frown upon you, and justify you traitors: at this time I will tell no tales.”p.23 (these guys orchestrated the attempted murder of you your daughter and the king and you won’t say a thing while they’re all there there’s forgiveness and there’s stupidity) The devil isn’t speaking for him, he forgives his brother’s faults but requires his dukedom restored. Alonzo begs for how he survived and met them, they shipwrecked and lost his son Ferdinand. Prospero says he also lost his daughter and the king is remorseful, “A daughter? O heavens! That they were living both in Naples, the king and queen there!”p.23 (funny you should mention that)

He wishes he were in the sea where his son is and asks when he lost her, in the Tempest. (I see this as him emotional torturing him a bit) Prospero knows they’ve been through much but he is real and he landed on this shore and is lord of it and welcomes them to his court and to look around. The cell opens to reveal Miranda and Ferdinand paying chess and she accuses him of letting her win. Alonzo thinks it’s a vision Sebastian calls it a miracle and Ferdinand is relieved the seas are merciful. Alonzo is overjoyed and asks how he came here and Miranda is amazed at all the people. “How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, that has such people in’t!”p.23 (oh honey you’re going to have such a huge culture shock) Alonzo asks who she is, the goddess that brought them here, Ferdinand says she is as mortal and his.

She is the daughter of the Duke of Milan who he heard is renown but never met before who gave him a new life and became his second father. Alonzo asks for his forgiveness, Prospero tells him to stop (please) it’s all in the past. Gonzalo asks the gods to drop a blessed crown on the couple he is beyond joy that in the journey to marry Claribel Ferdinand found a wife while he was lost. Alonzo takes their hands, “Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart that doth not wish you joy!”p.24 Ariel comes back with the ship crew and the boatswain are happy to find them alive and good news the ship was repaired and ready to set to sea. As they explain how they were put to sleep Prospero sets Ariel free. Alonzo says they have to conduct an oracle to shed light on this strange place, Prospero tells him not to bother and he’ll resolve him and aside to Ariel tells her to set Caliban and the other two free.

She returns with them wearing stolen clothes and Caliban is afraid Prospero will chastise him. Prospero says that Caliban’s mother was a witch that could control the moon (is that why he’s called moon calf) and the three have robbed him and plotted to kill him. “two of these fellows you must know and own; this thing of darkness is I acknowledge mine.”p.25 Alonzo recognizes his drunken butler (a butler’s original purpose was to serve wine I guess showing them as alcoholics was funny back then even Tolkien did it) and Trinculo and Caliban is a strange one. Prospero tells Caliban to take them to his cell and he has his pardon. “Ay, that I will; and I’ll be wise hereafter, and seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass was I, to take this drunkard for a god. And worship this dull fool!”p.25 Alonzo tells them to return the clothes and Prospero invites them in for the night and he’ll tell them the story of his life and wishes Ariel well.

Epilogue

Prospero says he gave up charms now has his own faint strength to either stay here or be sent to Naples but let him not since he pardoned the deceiver and got his dukedom back. He asks the audience to now free him from the island, “unless I be reliev’d by prayer, which pierces so that it assaults mercy itself and fees all faults. As you from cries would pardon’d be, let your indulgence set me free.”p.25 (now clap dammit)

#the tempest #william shakespeare #books #book summaries #drama #tragicomedy #romantic comedy #play

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zenxenophilia · 6 years

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Merformer Swerve Fic

(This was originally going to be part of a request, however it quickly turned out to be much longer than I had originally planned so now it’s its own thing lol. XD I may or may not continue it as a mer Swerve/Reader series depending on how much time I have and if anyone is interested. Please let me know what you think.)

You knew you had made a huge mistake the second you laid eyes on the ramshackle cabin that looked as though any moment it could slide into the frigid, grey waters of the lake beside it. The wood was warped and weather beaten from what was possibly a hundred years worth of winter storms. The stonework chimney leaned precariously to one side and was bent at an odd angle, making it look like something out of a cartoon than any functional appliance. And the vintage wooden blinds hanging in nearly all of the windows appeared to have numerous missing slats, like a grinning mouth with missing teeth.

You grimaced as you set your travel worn suitcase inside and surveyed your surroundings. You were slightly surprised at how clean the place looked, (despite the hideously retro décor) having expected nothing short of a century’s worth of cobwebs, and possibly even the grinning remains of the last poor soul that had been fed the same spiel about the idyllic lakeside retreat from a crumpled travel brochure.

You wished now that you had decided to spend your winter break in Hawaii, or Fiji, or anyplace with sun really, rather than this dreary, rainy town in the middle of nowhere and its giant, mist covered lake that looked more at home in a Silent Hill game than out in the real world.

But the place had looked so inviting in the brochure that had been coincidentally slipped into your mailbox last week. It had promised cozy accommodations, friendly people, pristine lake water, and above all, peace and quiet. The last part had been your deciding factor. You refused to spend another precious break away from university surrounded by shrieking children, wall to wall traffic, and rude tourists. This time, you had promised yourself, you were going to treat yourself to a real vacation. Just you and the quiet beauty of your natural surroundings. Now however, gazing out over the misty waters that perfectly reflected the sunless, grey sky you felt a chill creep down your spine that had nothing to do with the dry, winter air. Gazing out of the kitchen windows, you found yourself transfixed by the mirror-like water. You couldn’t explain why, but you got the eerie, unexplained feeling that someone (or something) was watching you).

With a scoff you closed the blinds and began dragging your suitcase to the bedroom to unpack. You were just letting the townsfolk’s silly fairytales get to you you told yourself with a huff as you kicked off your muddy boots and tossed them into the tiny adjoining closet.

The residents of the secluded town of Caliban were what you’d call somewhat eccentric, you supposed, though you had a few other words in mind. Most of the two hundred or so people living there were at least fifth or six generation; a few of them even had ancestors that had founded the tiny fishing village. They were exactly the kind of people one would picture living in a cozy, secluded, lakeside town; warm, friendly, quiet, heavily steeped in tradition, and more than a little superstitious.

Chief among these local urban legends was the idea that there strange, mermaid like creatures that lived in the surrounding lake. These creatures, they claimed, were fond of humans and had been protecting the sleepy little village and its inhabitants from boating accidents and drowning for generations. The locals held nearly an obsessive amount of pride for their mysterious, underwater guardians. People would set out plates of food for them on the end of their docks as an offering, oohing and awing the next morning when the food would be eaten by what was probably nothing more supernatural than a nosy raccoon. And images of the odd, manatee-like beings decorated nearly every store front and sign in town like some sort of bizarre town mascot.

The local pub especially had an affinity for the ‘mers’ as the locals called them. Fishermen would gather in their aging leather booths and swap stories (over mer themed drink specials) about their encounters with their aquatic friends. Just about every person in town had a personal experience with these creatures, including the town sheriff.

Charlie Burns was warm, soft-spoken, practical man that had a rare gift for commanding the respect and attention of anyone in the room without ever really trying, and you were no exception when he had come over to give you a friendly introduction and welcome you to the town on your first day. You had listened with rapt attention when he had let you in on the town’s worst kept secret, regaling you with his own stories of the playful beings stealing a fish from his line or splashing him while enjoying a peaceful canoe ride.

“They’re a mischievous lot, but they don’t mean any harm,” he had said before reaching into his jacket pocket to produce a crisp white card, embellished with the official sheriff’s office logo. “This is a pretty quiet town, (y/n). Not much happens here in the way of crime, but if you ever find yourself in any trouble during your stay, you give me a call at the office, alright?”

A few uneventful days in the dreary little town however had pushed Sheriff Burns’ conversation out of your mind. In fact, the most eventful thing that had happened so far this week was going to the store to pick up some groceries for dinner. The grey clouds blocking the sun seemed to gather even more thickly, as if in response to your already bleak mood. You shifted the brown paper bag in your hands and pulled your jacket tighter around your chest, trying in vain to keep out the winter chill. Your worn walking boots crunched loudly on the gravel walkway up to your cabin on the far edge of town, breaking the eerie quiet of the surrounding woods.

Something out of the corner of your eye made you pause however before turning your key in the door. You squinted against the harsh, bright grey haze towards the broken down wooden steps leading down to the pebbled shore of the lake. As your eyes adjusted to the glare, you noticed that someone appeared to be sitting in the warped wooden deck chair nestled neatly at the very edge of the lake.

Your breath hitched in your throat as your mind raced with images of intruders and serial killers and every scary movie about secluded cabins in the woods ever made. After a few deep breaths however, you realized the most likely scenario was that one of the local kids had decided to sneak over to the normally empty cabin and enjoy a little winter sunbathing. Shaking your head in dismay at your own overactive imagination, you began crunching your way down the lake shore to shoo away your unwanted visitor.

However, as you reached the top of the rickety stairs, you noticed that the figure slumped in the deck chair had a distinctly inhuman outline. A thick, blubbery tail hung loosely over the edge of the chair and draped lazily over the dark sand. At first you thought that maybe some teenagers had played a sick joke on the new visitor by placing a dead manatee in your chair, until you notice the short, stubby, humanlike fingers curled over one of the armrests.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you approached for a closer look. It was about the size and shape of a manatee, but decidedly human (or at least semi-human) shaped from the middle up. Splotches of red covered the rubbery looking white body in abstract shapes, getting darker and more solid as they rounded the back of its head and along the tips of tiny clawed hands. It was lying so still, you would have thought it was dead if not for the faint rising and falling of its chest as it dozed peacefully in cloud covered sun. One hand lazily draped over the thing’s face in an attempt to block out the blindingly grey haze of the chilly winter morning.

For a brief, mind numbing moment your entire brain stopped working. All you could do was gape in shock at the creature sprawled out over the deck chair. Years of fantasy novels and fairytales came flooding back to you like a torrent while all the while one word circled through your brain on repeat, screeching its implausible truth with the force of a fog horn.

Mer.

The thing in the chair let out a loud, snuffling snore, snapping you out of your chaotic reasonings. You stared in abject disbelief as it shifted slightly in its sleep like a dog dreaming of catching a rabbit. For some unexplainable reason, rather than fear, or awe, or any other million emotions that the fairytale books you had read as a kid would deem acceptable for this sort of situation, all you felt after the initial shock wore off was annoyance. Annoyance at the creature commandeering your backyard furniture like he had some sort of god given right to be there.

This was your cabin (if only for a few weeks). And no stranger, human or otherwise, was going to just sprawl themselves on your deck chair, particularly after you’ve had such a busy morning. You had earned that chair, darn it. Even if the thought of sitting outside after having to walk back from the store in the cold was the farthest thing from your mind two minutes ago, the fact that this creature was robbing you of the option irritated you to no end.

You gently, but firmly prodded one of the wooden legs of the chair with your boot, careful not to kick… whatever it was that was occupying it. You jumped back slightly, not knowing how the thing would react to being woken. The creature, rather than bolting upright like you had expected, slowly drew away the arm covering its startlingly blue eyes to peer at you with what you can only describe as lazy expectancy. As if it was waiting for you to say whatever it was that you needed to, so it could finish its nap in peace. For some reason this thought made you even angrier than before.

Before you could say or do anything however (not that you would have had the slightest idea of how to proceed) the creature’s gaze fell upon the brown paper bag grocery bag in your arms, the contents of your latest purchase sticking tantalizingly out of the top. Its eyes sparkled like a kid on Christmas morning and it turned to grin up at you in eagerness. You gasped and nearly dropped the bag, a few fresh apples spilling out and rolling over the rocky beach. The thing’s mouth was filled with small pointed teeth, similar to a dolphin’s, each one clamping against one another in the universal sign for hunger.

The sight is so startlingly unexpected that you momentarily forgot your anger. The thing (even now you hesitated to use the “m” word) reached down to retrieve one of the apples that had come to rest against the leg of the deck chair, its thick, purple tongue licking over the lipless mouth in glee. You stared transfixed as it turned the apple over in its webbed hands, almost reverently, before biting into it with that hellish mouth, the juice dripping from its jaws as devoured the fruit in a matter of seconds, core and all.

It licked the juice off its fingers, savoring every last drop. The thing then turned back to you with a toothy grin that nearly turned your stomach and held out one of its hands, making a childlike grabbing gesture towards the bag. You clutch your grocery bag to your chest on bolted back inside your cabin, with a potent combination of fear, confusion, wonder, and disbelief all bouncing around your brain, as if trying to figure out which to deal with first. You slammed the door and bolted it, pressing against it with your back and releasing the pent of breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

You clutched at your temples, trying desperately to reconcile the thing on your deck chair with years of schooling, common sense, and the laws of nature in general. You dared to sneak a peek through the thin wooden blinds along your kitchen window, not sure if it would be better or worse for that thing to still be there. It still was, to your mixture of relief and dismay. The proof of your unbelievable tale was still sunning itself on your deck chair for all to see, its chubby tail smacking the grainy sand as it strained to reach one of the fallen apples just beyond its reach, unable, or simply unwilling to leave the comfort of the warped, wooden recliner. You had to admit, were you not having to reevaluate your world view at the moment, you might have found the sight humorous.

Instead, you felt that earlier sense of annoyance creeping its way back in, tinged with a small amount of embarrassment. That thing had not only stolen your deck chair, but now it was actually eating your food. The food that you had personally gone out and bought with your own money for your own enjoyment. Not only that, but here you were (you hesitated to use the word cowering, but) cowering in your own vacation home, while that Abe Sapien wannabe was lounging about without a care in the world like he owned the bloody place. Gritting your teeth in aggravation, you reached for the archaic landline phone and called the only person you coul think of.

“Hello. Sherriff’s office,” the calm voice from the other line crackled through the receiver. You could hear the rustle of papers being filed on the other line.

Hello. Sherriff Burns?” you muttered, nervously twirling the now hopelessly wrinkled business card between your fingers. You never thought you would actually have a reason to use it before now. “This is (y/n). Remember? From the other day? I’m calling about a… I mean, there’s this… I don’t really know what you’d call it. I’m-“

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong? Are you in some kind of trouble?” Sherriff Burns asked with a slight hint of alarm in his voice.

“No. Not now, I’m not. I mean, I’m inside right now, but there’s this… thing on my deck chair outside. And I thought it was a manatee at first, only it wasn’t a manatee, it’s this weird red and white fish monster thing, and I tried to get it to move only it didn’t, and then it ate my groceries, and now it’s-“

Sherriff Burns’ chuckle sounded over the receiver. “That’s just Swerve,” he said, the relief evident in his voice. “You don’t need to worry about him. He’s a bit of a glutton, but he’d never hurt anybody.”

“Swerve? What’s a swerve? What is that?” you babble, the questions pouring out of you like a waterfall.

“Not what. Who,” Sherriff Burns corrected. “Swerve’s been a staple of our little town as long as I can remember. He’s the most personable of all the mers around here. Curious guy. Always poking his head out to see what people are up to.”

“Mers…” The word seems to stick in your mouth, incomprehensible and alien.

“I take it you’re not the type of person to listen to a bunch of local fisherman’s tales,” the sheriff said, not unkindly. “I don’t blame you. I didn’t believe in the mers until I saw one with my own eyes. You should count yourself lucky. Most strangers that come here never get to see a mer for themselves.”

“Okay, so, how do I get rid of it- him? Do I call animal control, or…?” you asked, taking another peep through the blinds. The creature – Swerve – had apparently successfully retrieved the fallen fruit and was munching on it happily in the sagging deck chair, his thick tail slapping happily against the beach. You scowled.

“Just leave him be. He’ll move on his own,” Sheriff Burns replied. “He probably thought that your cabin was vacant and saw an opportunity for a little sunbathing. He’ll probably leave you alone from now on now that he knows someone’s up there.”

“And if he doesn’t?” you prodded, watching as Swerve stretched his arms over his head in an exaggeratedly lazy yawn before settling back down for a nap.

“Sorry, (y/n), I’ve got another call coming in. I’ve got to go. Give me a call if you have any more trouble.”

“No wait-“ you cried, before hearing the click of the other line and the mocking drone of a dial tone. You cursed under your breath and glared out the window at the creature who had commandeered both your morning and your lawn furniture. It sprawled itself out against the aging wooden chair as if mocking your frustrations.

Your scowl deepened. You growled, slamming your now soggy bag of melting groceries on the counter and began throwing things in the rickety, single door refrigerator that looked like something out of the 70s. You made a concentrated effort not to look out the window as you struggled with the broken produce drawers, muttering darkly to yourself the whole time about stupid mermaids, and townsfolk, and appliances from hell.

When you finally gave into the urge to check out the window again, the thing was gone, leaving nothing in its wake but a heavy, dragging trail through the sand leading down into the water. You allowed yourself a small sigh of relief, but for some reason couldn’t shake the feeling that you hadn’t seen the last of the little apple thieving menace. You ran a hand through your hair, watching the muted, grey sunlight play gently over the deceptively still water. You were really starting to regret not spending the winter break in Hawaii instead.

#the big conversation #maccadam #supernatural robots #merformers #Swerve #my love of freaky monster boys is showing XD #I really love the idea of Swerve hogging the readers seat #I have a rough idea of where I'd want this story to go if I continue it #but it would be a very slow burn #I'll have to see how up I am to continuing haha! XD #but I do love a good merformers story

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seasaltmemories · 7 years

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Demons Chapter 11

Rating: T

Summary: There's nothing broken about you. We just need to allow ourselves the privilege to exist.

When Petra woke up, her head was pounding like a drum. It felt as if she had to carry concrete slabs with her pinky toe just to lift her eyelids. The closest thing to a coherent thought she could muster was regret over drinking whatever beverage it was that could cause a killer hang-over like this. Still as she slowly came to her senses, she realized this felt nothing like that. Whatever this was, it was worse, as if Life itself had picked her up and wrung every drop of energy from her body.

Then a set of bars came into focus, and immediately it was like none of that pain matter anymore. Petra sat up not only to find herself locked in a cell, but a blonde girl sitting across from her.

She looked to be no older than her mid-teens and even smaller than Petra herself, but that did nothing to ease her nerves. There was a dangerous aura to her, one of a soldier, someone trained in discipline. Despite this, she didn't even seem to regard Petra as more threatening than a fly. Somehow that was most frightening thing about the situation, someone holding so much power yet regarding it as nothing.

"Where am I..." As slurred and mumbled her words came out, the girl instantly turned to face her, cool blue eyes glaring at her. For a moment, Petra truly feared for her life, but slowly the girl answered her question.

"You have been detained and arrested by the Holy Legion."

At the sounds of those words, Petra's heart sank like a stone. Memories of Captain's last words came to the forefront of her mind.

Don't trust anyone or anything related to the Holy Legion, if you hear that name, run

And here she had gone and gotten herself captured by them instead.

After the jump, Captain had wanted to sleep for a week. Jumping from one created dimension to the next was nothing like he was used to. Even with his additional training, it still felt like running marathon in an hour. Usually he tried to take a break for a few days just to recharge his batteries.

But then one worry kept tugging at his mind from time to time, keeping him from relaxing fully. He knew Petra wasn't the type to look fondly on him getting a bit overprotective, but it felt wrong to leave her out there without a clue of what was going on. They had been doing this for decades while she was still so green behind the ears.

She could deck you in the face for this kind of behavior you know

And maybe he really deserved it. There was no no explanation for visiting her dorm at this hour that wouldn't paint him as a creep. Still at the very least he needed to rest his nerves. He'd be able to heal a lot faster without having to worry about her on top of everything else.

It was difficult getting into an area so densely populated by humans who had no sense when it came to their sleep schedules. Still stealth was his specialty, and he found himself inside soon enough. At first it seemed as if no one was there, but suddenly he heard a voice.

Quickly he hid as he tried to distinguish the source. It sounded like that girl he had seen hanging around Petra few times. Captain began to listen closely to the individual words she was saying.

"Hey Ian, Petra texted me saying she was gonna stay over with you. Apparently she had something going on today that was located near you and didn't want to make the trip here late at night."

Hearing that news was like having a weight lifted off his chest. He didn't think he had the right to thank God or anything else holy, but the desire to was raw and real. In his relief he almost didn't hear the last part of the conversation.

"What?! You're saying she didn't make it over there!?"

The worst part about being captured was the silence. Her jailer wasn't the chatty type, which left her alone to think about her failure over and over again. Her subconscious replayed the moments right before she was captured. Each time she remembered the it, it was like getting punched in the gut. No matter what she did it seemed her efforts were always useless.

At some point she was taken out of her cell to be read her "charges" for all her crimes by a mysterious

figure cloaked in white. As nice as it was to stretch her legs, it left her more confused than anything else.

"You are charged with collaborating with demonic forces." The figure announced. "Depending on how long and how far this relationship has gone, your sentence will be extended."

"So what does that mean from you weirdos? Do I get a time-out for not living up to whatever cult you run?"

"I suggest you not take the Holy Legion so lightly." Their voice took on a dangerous tone. "We're the only thing that stands between humanity and its destruction. Having infidels like you work together with such monsters makes it even harder to cleanse the world. If I were you I'd show some repentance. Those who don't beg for forgiveness are treated the same as a demon."

Something about those words set off a switch in Petra. Maybe she would have taken this better if she had already cut off contact with Captain and the gang and would have thought before she spoke. Maybe is she wasn't tired and scared out of her wits she would have tried to act pragmatically. Maybe if for a year now it hadn't felt like her life was being run by everyone but herself she would have known not to piss off those who held her life in their hands. Even so, she had grown already sick of whatever freakshow this was.

"Where were you my entire life then?" Her words were as sharp as a knife. "I spent my childhood convinced I was out of my fucking mind. Demons haunted my every move, but apparently they weren't important until I finally found some peace, and now you want to take it away?" Without thinking she raised her fist to strike them, when suddenly she was slammed to the floor by the blonde guard from before.

"Thank you, Ariel." The clocked figure bowed as she dug her heel deeper into Petra's back.

And so her brief stint out of the cell was ended. Looking back she would have taken more of those cryptic threats over this silence. She was still without a clue of what exactly this Holy Legion was up to. All she knew for sure was that she had damned herself in their eyes, and their road to redemption was unlikely to be one she'd like.

With a sigh, Petra raked a hand down her face. This is what she gets for trying to make sense of her madness, to try and find a purpose in her life.

What am I going to do?

At this point she wasn't even sure she could pray to anyone for help.

Faster and faster, Captain teleported himself through the streets of Sina. It was a crazy plan, one even Girly wouldn't have ever suggested. Still the Holy Legion would have to be blind not to notice him this way. Eventually, they'd come to attack him and that's when his search for Petra would really begin.

He knew Commander and Four-Eyes would never allow this sort of behavior to happen. He could practically hear their more logical arguments with each jump. How do you expect to take on the Holy Legion yourself? Do you expect to be able to fight demon hunters after exhausting yourself out? Who knows if they really have Petra. For all he knows she could already be dea-

Captain bit his tongue hard. No, he would not accept that. She was his partner for a good reason, brave as hell and even fiercer. If any human could survive them it was her. It had to be her. Even so he couldn't sit around just twiddling his thumbs while she was in danger.

"Wait for me Petra, I'm coming," He whispered to himself. He'd rescue her no matter what stood in the way.

It was hard to keep track of time. Even if Petra hadn't been busy wallowing her own self-pity, there was no windows or any other signs that could have helped her. So when she found a plate of food and a glass of water set before her, she couldn't help but look up in surprise.

"Eat." It was the first time her guard had spoken to her, making the situation all the more surreal.

Without even thinking, Petra said, "Thank you, Ariel..."

For some reason that made her freeze up. It was another first of hers, showing some emotion besides bland neutrality.

"Is that not what the other dude called you?"

"It is..." She brushed a few strands of hair behind her eye. "But it's not a name I expected to hear from a prisoner of all people."

"A name's a name. why does it matter who says it?" Petra pretended to be occupied with tearing a loaf of bread into smaller pieces. This might be her only opportunity to fish for information. The worst thing she could do would be to ruin it all because she got too eager.

"It's less a name and more a title. Your kind knows very well the power names have." There was a slight quirk to her lips that could be mistaken for a smirk.

Damn it, so she wasn't as subtle as she'd have prefer. Oh well at least Ariel seemed entertained by her antics.

"Did you get to choose it yourself? Because if it's supposed to be intimidating, all it does is remind me of the redhead mermaid from that one movie."

"The reference is more academic than that." She approached Petra's cell to sit across from her, movements effortless graceful as if belonging to a dancer. "The protagonist of Shakespeare's The Tempest, has two slaves: Ariel and Caliban. The former was obedient and well-loved, earning his freedom at the end for his good deeds. The latter was unruly and regarded as inhuman. While he does receive forgiveness in the end, his fate is unclear. The Holy Legion mirrors such behavior for sinners like us. If you act as an Ariel, you're one step closer to earning redemption. On the other hands, Calibans fates are more ambiguous." Even without having observed her quiet nature before, it was obvious that Ariel was not used to speaking this much. Her words came out stilted and awkward, like she was reading a script in a foreign language.

"So am I a Caliban in your eyes?" Petra leaned forward, no longer hiding her interest.

"Everyone starts out as Caliban before the Holy Legion recruits them. Very few are strong enough to dedicated themselves fully to eradicating demons from this world. However a Caliban can always change into an Ariel if they wish to. Your choice is simple. If the Holy Legion runs out of patience though, then soon your disobedience will be punished."

"What happened to that forgiveness?"

"It is always granted at first, but if it is not accepted by the recipient, judgment must be dealt."

"Why tell me this, though?"

"Because I'm tired of unnecessary violence." She gave a long sigh that sounded centuries old. "You seem smart enough to know when to fold your hand." While she tried to remain impersonal and detached, one ghost of an emotion still tainted her words. She seemed lonely, but that wasn't even the most surprising thing she found about her.

The more she looked at Ariel, the more she reminded reminded Petra of herself as a teen, someone who felt so alone and alien in her own world.

All this purple prose and odd behavior was making her head spin. So far what she knew about this Holy Legion was not adding up. Their job was to destroy demons and ones who associated with them like her, yet that was where they tried to recruit their workforce. They named their workers in a very demonic fashion based on if they earned redemption for some unknown sin or-

A thought came to Petra that was shocking, she had to keep from yelping at the revelation. Dear lord, if she was right...

"You're right. I'm not stupid. If that's the only way I can survive, then I'll join y'all." She waited for the right moment, when Ariel's body seemed to loosen up ever so slightly and her guard was let down for a half-second, and then she reached through the bars of her cell to grip her as fiercely as possible.

She fought and bit and screamed to get Petra off her, but her grip was unshakeable. It had to be here. She couldn't be wrong. Then suddenly it flashed before her eyes.

The key.

The crowd seemed to roar louder than any beast alive. One name kept getting chanted over and over again. Annie. Annie. However one quiet voice managed to impact her more than they ever could.

"You have to win this, Annie. You've come so far to make it to the championship. I will not accept failure from you. Do not let her beat you."

With that, Annie stepped into the ring to face her opponent. Already she felt a fraction of her resolve wavering. She looked hardly like a teen her age, more as if Athena herself had come down to Earth and had decided to take up boxing. Even so she tried to stay strong. Dad wouldn't accept failure.

Once the match started, it felt like it would go one forever. Again and again the two weaved around each other, not giving the other an inch. Ugh, they couldn't play this game forever. She had to strike now.

With all her strength, Annie lunged forward with a left hook; however, as she stepped forward, she found herself slipping in a puddle of sweat and hitting her head against her opponent's chair.

Then there was only darkness.

When Petra came back to the real world, she found the demon glowering at her. She looked like a feral animal, and somehow Petra knew if she didn't save her, Annie would decide to kill her.

"You're life has always been this way, Annie. Instead of making your own decisions, someone else has told you what you needed to do, and if you didn't live up to their expectations they beat you into the ground for it."

"You fucking bitch!" She snarled, pulling out a key from her pocket. "I'll-"

"To be honest I've suffered in the same way. First I tried living up to the expectations of human society and simply denying a part of myself, and then I started only valuing the part of me that could live in demon society."

She plunged the key to the lock and all but ripped open the door. This was it, there was no escape if Petra didn't act now.

"Things aren't going to get better for either of us, if we stop trying to be the person others want to be and just choose to be ourselves! It doesn't matter that you're a demon, Annie. There's nothing broken about you. We just need to allow ourselves the privilege to exist!"

Petra closed her eyes, waiting for a fist to connect with her face, but it never happened. When she dared to open her eyes again, she found Annie fading away right before her. For some reason she found her mouth trying to speak, to say something, anything about the situation, but the words wouldn't come. Even so, as she disappeared, a ghost of a whisper passed by Petra's ear.

"Thank you..."

For a beat, all Petra could do was shiver from the chills it sent down her spine. Had that all been intention on her part? Had Annie really wanted to be saved instead of a slave to those who condemned her? Whatever it didn't matter. She could think about such matters once she got out of here. Of course then there was that matter of Petra didn't know where exactly she was...

It was right then she heard a noise coming from the door. Someone was on their way to this room and were coming fast. Despite her lack of weapons or anything really to defend herself, Petra immediately fell into a fighting stance. If she were to die here, then she would go down with a fight.

The door flew open, but instead of eerie figures in white clocks, only one familiar person stood.

It was Captain.

A thousand emotions seemed to run counter to each other in Petra: relief, confusion, joy, fear. Captain though just stared and stared, like she was a miracle just for taking a breath. A part of herself screamed to shoved that inside the deepest dark vault inside her mind, to not let anything dangerous spill out.

Petra said screw that, and leaped into his arms with no regrets.

"Petra," He whispered her name like a prayer. His face was buried in her shoulder, his grip around her frame almost vicelike. All the adrenaline from before began to drain from her body, and suddenly all she wanted to do was collapse and just sob her heart out until there were no tears left. Instead of flinching from such display of vulnerability, Captain simply rubbed his hand in soothing circles and murmured gentle sounds.

"Come on, Girly. Let's get you home."

When Captain came to see her after she had settled down, she felt his presence more than anything else. Her attention had been fully occupied by a Greek shoreline, but at the familiar zap of teleportation, she knew he had returned. Without even turning her head, Petra greeted him.

"Anything you need."

"Just wanting to make sure you're ok after that phone call." He moved to sit next to her. Four Eyes had been the one to deal with most of the details of relocating. At this point it was just tying up the loose ends so she could disappear effectively. Who knew that would be so painful though?

"I'm not sure Dad was processing it. All the money just blew his mind, but then to hear about that witness protection story, it might have been just too much."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." His words were awkward, but it was the intent that mattered.

"I appreciate it. Still I hope I don't have to leave Sina forever. Even if it's only for a little while I want to see Rico and Dad at least one more time."

"This isn't the first time we've had to move shop because of the Holy Legion. If they see your face in town, they'd jump you right away."

"And you think that would stop me?" She raised an eyebrow and shot him a cocky grin.

Captain smiled back. "No it wouldn't." For a beat the two of them just sat there, enjoying the other's company. But unfortunately nothing can last forever. It wasn't long before he was asking her another question.

"So what are your plans now? You want out?"

Petra licked her lips, trying to find the right words. "Not exactly. I think I'm going to start studying the connection between demons and history, specifically in portrayals of mythology. I told you I loved Greek mythology, didn't I? This is the perfect way to put that and my demon knowledge to use."

"But does that mean we're still partners?"

Hazel eyes met silver, so sharp and piercing and a million other things that made her inside do flips.

"Not necessarily. I may not be staying in the demon taming business, but things don't have to change that much."

"What do you mean?"

She took a deep breath. In. Out. Then slowly she laced their fingers together. "What exactly are we?" It was impossible to say who kissed who first, but it wasn't long before they were drinking each other completely in. As the two of them pulled back for air, a content sigh passed from her lips.

"...I have no idea how relationships like this even go, but do you want to give it a try?" It was strange seeing Captain bashful of all people. The tips of his ears were flushed red, and he seemed determined to look anywhere but her eyes.

Petra thought on the past year's trials and tribulations, of her revelation when captured by the Holy Legion, and all the other anxieties that had been gnawing at her core.

"I want you," she finally said. "I want to everything and anything my heart desires from now on."

Captain grinned. "Then let's get started."

A.N. After way longer than this story should have taken, it's done. It kinda feels unreal. On one hand this story is almost from a different time period in my life. I was 15 when I started this and still figuring out a lot about myself and now three years later and I'm heading for college in less than a week. I've changed so much as a person, I wondered if I was even telling the same story I started out as. Even so I glad to be able to finish this project once and for all. Thank you so much for your support. I love all my readers~

#rivetra #petra ral #levi #attack on titan #levi ackerman #my lame writing #otp: cold coffee #dead people everywhere #demon tamer au #it's done #it's finally done after three years

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durex-on-a-bible · 7 years

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Self-Defence (5/5)

Contains brutal mannequin murder, implied suicidal depression, blood, and laundry folding

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Much later, and much further away, a large pair of plimsoll-clad feet trod their way through the desert. Caliban turned back round to look at the distant water tower, moon-shadow trailing in front of him, then carried on away from it. He’d made sure beforehand to check inside, peering at the sleeping, prone man: Charles was lost in some old, incomprehensible dream, and Logan had stayed out overnight in the limo.

A spare few hours… they had to count.

Scratching at an itch on his scalp, the chalk-white mutant instinctively felt for a phantom hat, then relaxed. While it was still certainly warm on his skin, the sunlight lost its potency when reflected as moonlight – he absent-mindedly felt where his t-shirt had ridden up, tugging it back down. The few essentials he had needed were bundled in one arm, pressed up against his chest: a small paperback book that he’d bought online, with Logan’s help; a bottle of water; his poncho, in case he had to make the return trip in daylight.

A heavy cardboard box.

Gradually he saw the outline of a nearby ghost town, of about 50 buildings, take shape. Finding it for the first time had been pure accident: he’d merely been taking a night’s stroll to get some fresh air, when he saw it. Drawn to the ruined houses, he had walked among them as another mass of bleached angles. Since then, it had become somewhere to go when he had the time, when he needed to acknowledge his distance from humans and mutants alike.

At least, that had been his initial reason. As it happened, the place had other, more pragmatic benefits.

Caliban ducked his head under a low-hanging doorway, entering the floorspace of an old tailor’s shop. Whoever the people were who had once lived here, they had left in a hurry – There had been no time to take the exquisite clothes, nor the fabric-polystyrene mannequins which they rested on. With care, he unbuttoned a moth-eaten suit jacket from its stand, then, after some rummaging, pulled out a rusted wire coat hanger from the rubble; reaching up with one long arm, he managed to hang it up onto a narrow beam, where it joined a long, smart line of decaying garments. Pointless, perhaps, but something of a ritual now – misplaced guilt for inanimate objects turned habit.

The dummy now stood with three others in a lopsided triangle. He stood to the edge of them and stretched as much as his stooped posture would allow, until loose. Rummaging through his items and prizing open the noisy plastic, he once again found himself with the knife, clutched in a firm hammer-grip. The hunched mutant took his place in the centre of the mannequins and closed his eyes.

And breathed.

He yelled, throwing his weight into the knife-hilt as he descended upon them. A small kettle of nighthawks startled and took flight, calling in alarm while Caliban tore into the starchy, padded bodies, a harsh nails-on-blackboard screech with each thrust.

Then, he stopped and massaged his temples. Each of his “victims” lay discarded on the desert dirt now, frayed and ruptured where they had been attacked – with no resistance.

“For fuck’s sake.” said the mutant quietly, to no-one.

He rose now, tenderly picking up a mannequin in each hand by its splintered wooden base, and carried them round the back of the store; a neat stack of curved busts, riddled with slashes and stab wounds, awaited the new arrivals. The two recently-destroyed stands landed on top of the pile, followed by the third a moment later. Arms crossed, the thin man glared at his previous efforts. How many months had it been? Four? And he was still coming out here, still trying to ‘train up’ by himself. All his efforts, against prop opponents. It wasn’t enough, not to keep the other two safe, and the risk of Charles waking up in the night while he was gone was-

No.

No, not yet. Caliban wasn’t going home until he’d finished. Discipline, that was the key.

At that, he sauntered through the rubbish back to his essentials, taking a quick swig of water when he arrived, and uncovered a second-hand copy of ‘Knife Fighting: A Practical Course’. The convenience of being responsible for online orders to their PO Box meant it was easy to slip the book in with other items, squirreling it away before Logan could see it; no point starting that headache all over again. But then, the few hours the older mutant would return, he would instantly wrap himself in the rust-holed cladding of the water tower, following his ailing mentor around in vain; or he would stagger through their shared living space, hackles raised at any attempts to communicate.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, and turned a few chapters in: ‘Zones of Attack and Defence’ – that would do for tonight. He studied the pages, his eyes adapting to the moonlight as he read. A series of diagrams caught his eye, as they tended to: a balding man in his 40’s, wearing casual polos and denims, posing defensively and confidently with a thick blade. Each still of him was divided into four, showing areas where an attack could strike, and how to defend each area. Something about the man unsettled Caliban, but he couldn’t place his finger on it.

Propping the book open with a small chip of masonry, he tried to picture the quadrants reflected ahead of him, and readied his defensive stance, knife in hand: by now, he had lost his form due to lack of practice, but it serviced regardless. A quick glance at the book again, and he threw his posture into a crooked parody of a ‘zone 2’ parry, protecting his left flank. Another peek, and he shifted his arms, putting them slightly further away from his body.

Zone 5, centre. Zone 1, top-right. Zone 4, bottom-right. Zone 3, bottom-left. Zone 2, top-left. Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat.

Then he saw the sky.

The moon had begun to set, pushing long shadows into the old shop. All around, the hues began a shift from all-encompassing navy to a warmer shade of green.

Time was up.

He finished the bottle, crushing it in his hand, then pulled his poncho and hood over himself – sunrise wasn’t due for another hour, but he’d made that mistake before. The knife was cleaned and returned to its box; the bottle balanced on top, nestled in the great drapes of cotton as he scurried back out of the ruin, leaving the dead settlement to sleep, and striding back across the stretch of dry earth towards the ancient plant he called home.

For the time being, at least.

It had just been a casual observation, maths-wise. The limo driving brought in roughly half a thousand dollars a week, which was cut down by about three hundred dollars once food, medicine, utilities, and other things had been factored in. That left just over a thousand left over… which then vanished every week, for the past year. Which, by Caliban’s estimate, left a total of sixty thousand dollars unaccounted for.

From there, he hadn’t needed to wait long before he found out: a newspaper clipping left out on the table, pinned down by a cup of stale coffee, listed an advertisement for a “1996 Sunseeker Manhattan”. The grey pointillist photograph showed a moderate-sized motor-yacht, parked somewhere on a distant port – priced at seventy thousand dollars.

When he first saw it, the blood had drained from his face. He tried to imagine himself going with them, confined to the lower decks like a vampire, then realised: of course he couldn’t. He was never meant to come. He’d left it where he found it, but brought the coffee with him to flush down the sink. A few days later, he had managed to calm down, to rationalise; it made sense for Logan and Charles to do so, to get out to sea, and as far away as possible from anyone the seizures could hurt.

Including him.

Still, he’d figured, it would be a pleasant way to end the elder mutant’s days. And after all was said and done, he could arrange afterwards to collect Logan… and help him through the loss, just as he’d done for the past year.

Back in the present, he found himself once again spying on the sleeping Charles. A small mercy: their patient was long overdue his diazepam. He sniffed the air, hoping to catch wind of Logan’s arrival. Nothing. His – he paused – ‘employer’ was still a distant light in the peripheral of his head, weaving through an empty, black space.

Might as well do some laundry, he thought to himself.

The knuckles in his hands peeked through his skin as he picked through the three men’s clothes: Soft, comfortable woollen items for Charles, cloying with must and age; ragged, beige t-shirts and button-downs, his own cobbled-together wardrobe; and lastly the formal wear of Logan’s chauffeur uniform and his many vests – some with holes, some with tears, most with blood. He grimaced, sorting the clothes into different wash categories, into repair jobs, into lost causes. As he went, he felt along each piece, searching for anything left over in the pockets; he’d told Logan to check before putting it in the pile, but by this point he was better off just doing it himself. God knows how many time’s he’d fished out coins or pen lids, even some sticky humbugs from Charles’ pockets-

His fingers ghosted over something solid in Logan’s trousers.

He hadn’t noticed until just now, since most of the shorter man’s clothes had a strong scent of blood, and the metal that leaked like poison from his bones. But, whatever was in there? It reeked, the tang settling on his tongue. Reaching in, he unfurled his hand to see a small, silver cylinder rolling on his ash-white palm. It was rounded at one end, flat at the other, and was wrapped in a thin casing. Rightly, he guessed it to be about nine millimetres in width.

A bullet. He sniffed it, and recoiled.

Adamantium.

He clenched the thing in his fist.

“It’s too late,” Logan had told him. At the time, Caliban hadn’t understood why.

Now, he did.

His free hand found his face, and they crushed into each other as he tried to steady his breath, shaking like a wire in the wind.

After a long moment, he released his pink features and rubbed his finger and thumb under his eyes, wiping the wet drops off onto his shirt. The cage of his other hand released, the bullet settling back into the creases, and he stared at it. Then, he opened up his chest pocket and slipped it in, a cold weight against him.

“No,” he muttered, resuming his chores: “It’s not.”

Logan would likely be back in a few hours.

He’d talk to him then.

#caliban #logan #logan (2017)#logan 2017 #calogan #charles xavier #hurt comfort #whump #suicide tw #blood tw #gore tw #gun tw #knives tw

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The LEGO Batman Movie (2017), Logan (2017), and The Fate of the Furious (2017)

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I’m at an age where many of my friends have become or will become parents. Since I was the first person in my peer circle to become a father, they sometimes turned to me to ask what advice, practical or philosophical, I could give about becoming a parent. By this point, I’ve refined my patter to a performance. I will consistently tell my friends, “Don’t have kids.” Either that draws them in further to inevitably ask why, or they take the words on the superficial level and move on with the conversation. If they ask why I, a father of a delightful kid, would say that, I ask if they want the practical or the philosophical reasons. The practical reasons are simple: having a child is a major financial commitment, a guarantee that you will never have a sound night of sleep ever again (and not just because an infant’s needs will interrupt your sleep), and a turning point in the relationship that you and your partner have. You and your partner’s relationship may not survive; the roles that you and you partner played in the relationship before you became parents will not be the roles that you will play after. The philosophical reasons are based in pessimism: if we accept that any actions that lead to the suffering of others is immoral, then having a child is an immoral act because human sentience means that we all live in constant pain born from a terror of knowing that our lives are finite. We are always dying. We die every second. In response to the absurd notion that we are born only so we can live to know that we will die, the most common options are: commit suicide, embrace the absurdity of life, or to recognize how absurd life is and rebel. How could you then morally justify creating life?

What could have been in the creative air to inspire three major blockbuster films (The LEGO Batman Movie, Logan, and The Fate of the Furious) from three different distributors (Warner Brothers, 20th Century Fox, and Universal Pictures, respectively) to tackle the ideas of family unity and fatherhood in three different ways? (And it’s noted that these three films offer their takes on fatherhood specifically, not parenthood.) I suppose it’s natural that someone will explore the paradoxical idea that characters like Batman and Wolverine, who are so often defined as loners who don’t believe that they deserve human connections to other people would actually have many relationships that form an extended family with characters who choose to be with them. In other words, you could imagine Batman, Wolverine, and Dominic Toretto each saluting their respective families with their beverages of choice.

Colorful and bombastic, The LEGO Batman Movie contextualizes the characters around Batman as his extended family. From Alfred the patriarch (voice by Ralph Fiennes) to Batman (Will Arnett) to Batman’s adopted son, Robin (Michael Cera), to Batman’s co-dependent nemesis, the Joker (Zach Galifianakis), to Batman and Joker’s extended work friends and acquaintances like Harley Quinn (Jenny Slate), Barbara Gordon (Rosario Dawson), and Clayface, the many bonds that Batman has with the world around him are highlighted in bright neon explosions. As Batman’s surrogate father and like a father who worries about his kid’s ability to make the right kind of friends at school or meet the right partner, Alfred worries about his charge’s ability to form social bonds that will sustain Batman if he were to ever die.

The film’s inciting incident is Batman breaking the Joker’s heart by telling him that he means nothing to him; the movie ends with a play on romantic comedy beats by climaxing with Batman and the Joker telling each other that they hate each other. It’s the psychosexual dynamic between the two that Frank Miller famously explored in The Dark Knight Returns and Scott Snyder years later in “Death of the Family” sanitized for the elementary school set.

The cinematic versions of Batman always come around to embrace the idea that Batman isn’t the loner that he thinks he is. He travels with gods like Superman and Wonder Woman. In The LEGO Batman Movie, he craves the attention from his peers in the Justice League so badly that he has to put up a front to pretend that he doesn’t want it when he doesn’t get it. In other films, he actually founds the Justice League.

He’s also a father figure, whether in the figurative sense (Batman’s vigilantism gives birth to a more demented class of villains, and his rogues slowly transition from mobsters to supervillains) in a more literal sense (Batman becomes the guardian to the various Robins over the years and the central figure in a cohort of vigilantes, from the Huntress to Spoiler to Red Hood to Batwoman to Batwing). Michael Cera’s performance as Robin in The LEGO Batman Movie makes the character guileless and eager to please than normal to contrast with the bravado that Will Arnett infuses into his Batman.

Like his bald counterpart in The LEGO Batman Movie (coincidentally portrayed by Ralph, another Englishman, Fiennes), Patrick Stewart’s Charles Xavier is concerned that Logan (Hugh Jackman) will lose his chance to reforge a connection to the wider world around him in Logan. Bitter, broken-hearted, and betrayed by his body, Xavier insists to Logan that there is still time for him to reconnect with the world after the rest of the X-Men were killed when Logan meets Laura (Dafne Keen). Logan, Laura, and Charles’s adventure across America remind Logan what a warm household full of affection, as the X-Mansion might have been once, looks like compared to the dusty and solitary existence he, Caliban (Stephen Merchant), and Charles lived in Mexico as he tried to raise enough money to go somewhere so he and Charles can die in peace. As Logan undergoes this journey and reforges connections, he travels from a dusty broken down industrial plant to a neon-bathed city to a corn farm and back to nature, his soul undergoing a revival even as his body continues its breakdown.

Both Logan and Batman begin their films as reluctant fathers, each haunted by loss and unable to figure out the hedgehog’s dilemma. Both are convinced that their lonely lives are the only ways that they can pass their days. Both are pushed by their surrogate father figures to bond with children who unexpectedly enter their lives. And both try to demonstrate their acceptance of the responsibility of fatherhood through sacrifice. Logan overdoses on a drug in order to protect Laura and her friends from a physical avatar of his wild past, while Batman volunteers to return to the Phantom Zone to honor the agreement he made with the Phantom Zone’s keeper that allowed him to return to save his fledgling family.

There’s a thrill to seeing Logan cut a bloody swath across the screen, but the film’s melancholy gives it a bitter taste. The shock of Logan cutting off an arm from a man who was trying to steal the tires from his rented limousine is undercut by how hard it was for the legendary Wolverine to fend off those four men. The excitement of Logan bearing his claws at Donald Pierce (Boyd Holbrook) and the Reavers is undermined by how ineffectual Logan is against them. You might be surprised that Logan is casually murdering Reavers who were trying to capture Xavier, but the surprise is subverted by the realization that the Reavers were completely defenseless and neutralized by Xavier’s psychic seizure. Logan facing down goons to help Will Munson (Eriq La Salle), a farmer that he helped on his journey, but his violence against the Reavers and the goons only brings more violence upon the Munsons, which leaves them all dead. In the climax, Logan is temporarily restored to his former vitality due to a healing serum, but by the end of that burst of violence, Logan can barely stand. Violence in Logan is a bittersweet fruit.

Every time Logan fights the Reavers, they come back with more and stronger soldiers. When he faces them in Mexico, the Reavers have heavily armed Mexican police officers riding in SUVs. By the time that he faces them in North Dakota, the Reavers have armored trucks, jeeps with mounted machine guns, and a young feral clone of Logan. Nonetheless, Logan can’t help but feel fatherly pride during the climactic fight against the Reavers. Laura had already saved him once after he collapsed on the side of a highway by getting him medical attention. But he becomes proud of her when she fights to defend her friends against the Reavers, and they coordinate their attacks. They bond through violence because, as Xavier said, they’re very alike.

The price of violence makes explicit the idea that becoming a parent raises the stakes. One might be tempted to quit an unsatisfactory, unfulfilling, underpaying job, but the income or health insurance from that job might be the only thing that protects your family from deprivation. One might be tempted to lash out at the world or to go it alone, but that might be the selfish thing to do.

James Mangold, the director of Logan and one of the screenwriters, along with Scott Frank and Michael Green, unintentionally struck political relevance in the current political climate. The film’s development began in 2013, and the screenplay was complete by early 2016, around the same time that Donald Trump was campaigning for President of the United States on a platform of xenophobia and racism. In the film’s opening scenes, we see Logan chauffering four young white men past a Mexico-US border checkpoint. They’re standing through the limo’s sunroof, chanting “USA!” at the immigrants waiting to pass the border. By March 2017, President Trump’s administration is floating trial balloons to test the idea of separating women and children who are caught crossing the Mexico-US border together. Laura and her friends are Mexican children whose humanity has been denied by a corporation so they can be experimented upon and trained to be weapons. As Donald Pierce references repeatedly throughout Logan, Laura and her friends are commodities, patented intellectual properties of the company that employs him. Whereas other X-Men stories would be metaphors about how the Other is demonized, here the Other is completely dehumanized. Principal photography for Logan ended in August 2016, but the idea that Laura and her friends are not seeking refuge in the United States because the United States is not a hospitable place for children born from Mexican mothers and the image that they are running toward the Canadian border to seek asylum make for accidentally potent juxtaposition.

While The LEGO Batman Movie and Logan present their protagonists in trigenerational families, The Fate of the Furious presents two different types of families. There’s the circle of friends that become a family that Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) often toasts with a bottle of Corona. Then, there’s also the son that he and Elena (Elsa Pataky) created during their relationship when he thought that Letty (Michelle Rodriguez) was dead. Dominic accepts fatherhood without reservation and is willing to betray his la familia in order to protect his biological family until he can find a way to save his son from Cipher (Charlize Theron, mostly underutilized in the film), a legendary cyberterrorist who is blackmailing Dominic to steal an EMP device, a Russian nuclear football, and a Russian nuclear submarine for her.

There is, of course, another father in la familia who is noticeably absent. Brian O’Conner (Paul Walker), Mia Toretto, and their son are written out of the film with a line delivered by Letty to explain that they cannot contact Brian for his help in subduing Dominic and capture Cipher. Within the context of the film, this allows Brian and Mia to raise their child in peace, though I cannot imagine that they would feel much peace watching news reports of the theft of an EMP device in Germany, the assault on a Russian defense minister in New York City, or the chaos in New York when la familia attempted to take Dominic down. Outside of that context, this allows Walker, a father himself, to live on through his character.

With Brian removed, The Fate of the Furious screenwriter has to pile the human pathos on to Dominic, Letty, and Elena, and the film creaks and moans under the pressure. Making Dominic a father certainly raises the stakes for him, and the film is focused only on what becoming a father would mean to Dominic. Unfortunately, the film again can only define Dominic’s fatherhood by his sacrifice of his honor and his betrayal of his familia; the film is completely uninterested in Elena’s experience or perspective as the child’s mother. Because the existence of Dominic and Elena’s son is a shock revelation, there’s no time for them to form a connection or for the viewer to form a connection to them. We feel sympathy for Dominic in theory (one can only imagine the horror of someone holding your child hostage and leveraging them to make you commit crimes and betray your loved ones), but the film tries to split our focus by making us feel the pain from Letty’s perspective as the loved one who is abandoned for unexplained reasons. It’s an attempt to give Dominic a shade of humanity, but it’s done only in abstract.

By comparison, we have a better sense of the surrogate paternal relationship between Mr. Nobody (Kurt Russell) and his trainee, Little Nobody (Scott Eastwood) or between Hobbs (Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson) and his daughter, Samantha (Eden Estrella). Hobbs is a devoted father to Samantha and a committed coach to her soccer team; the cinematic appeal of their relationship lies in Johnson’s charm and their characters’ shared history, which dates back to Furious 7. Even the Nobodies evoke a more real emotional reaction than Dominic and his son because we see how they interact with each other and how Mr. Nobody tries to teach Little Nobody the tricks of the trade.

Without the human connection, the spectacle of The Fate of the Furious felt hollow. I should have been wowed by remotely controlled cars barreling through New York City’s streets and raining from parking lots in skyscrapers, but I was bored. I should have been impressed when Dominic and company were racing across ice away from a nuclear submarine, but I was bored and almost nodding off. While the stakes for Dominic as a character were raised with his son’s introduction, the movie itself felt rote, from Cipher’s poorly outlined motivations to a moment that upends the importance of family that is the core of the franchise.

Dominic pays tribute to the bond between his peers that form la familia. However, there is dissonance in the way that Letty, Roman (Tyrese Gibson), and Tej (Chris “Ludacris” Bridges) seemed to have no objection to Deckard Shaw (Jason Statham) joining the team. Shaw murdered Han Lue/Han Seoul-Oh and attempted to kill Dominic, Mia, Brian, and Mia and Brian’s son in Furious 7. Even though Dominic was desperate, contacting Deckard’s mother (Helen Mirren) in order to convince her to persuade Deckard and Owen Shaw (Luke Evans), who has his own disagreeable history with Dominic and company, to save Dominic’s son seemed to betray Han’s memory and to put aside the threats that were made to his family.

The LEGO Batman Movie, Logan, and The Fate of the Furious presented their respective protagonists in non-traditional families. Batman adopts Robin, and they form a trigenerational family with Alfred. Logan becomes Laura’s de facto guardian, and they form a trigenerational family with Xavier. Dominic, Letty, and Dominic’s biological son form a blended family. Indeed, the only traditional nuclear families that we see in these films are the Waynes, which is broken when Batman’s parents are murdered, and the Munsons in Logan.

You could strain to draw a connection between how casually the Munsons are killed to how dystopian the world in Logan is, but the Munsons’ deaths feel almost cruel. From the moment that Logan stops the truck to help them wrangle their horses, the audience begins to wait for the Munsons to die. It gives the otherwise tranquil scenes of Logan, Xavier, and Laura observing what a normal family looks like as they dine together suspenseful tension. Their deaths for doing nothing more than extending hospitality to Logan, Xavier, and Laura felt like a manipulative exercise in cynicism and nihilism. They’re collateral damage in Logan’s violence trap, and the viewer empathizes with Will Munson when he pulls the trigger on Logan after they’ve incapacitated X-24, the younger, feral clone of Logan that was sent to subdue and capture Laura. With his dying breath, Will doesn’t distinguish between X-24 and Logan because they are both monsters that trampled the Munsons’ lives. That the gun’s chamber was empty only emphasizes that violence, even in the cynical world of Logan, isn’t a solution.

Finally, if we accept the notion that becoming a parent is one of the few rites of passage into adulthood left in today’s America, then the other side of that passage is observing your own parents’ decline and eventual death. In Logan, Charles Xavier is suffering Alzheimer’s disease, and Logan and Caliban are Xavier’s sole caregivers. When Xavier doesn’t recognize Logan, he is afraid of him because, to Xavier, Logan is the person who drugs him into unconsciousness. When Xavier is awake and lucid enough to recognize Logan, he berates him for being a disappointment. Xavier’s seizures cause Logan physical pain, and his words cause Logan emotional pain. Xavier is angry at himself and Logan because he needs Logan’s help with something as fundamental as using the bathroom; Logan is resentful for Xavier’s role in the Westchester incident, the physical and emotional pain that Xavier causes him, and the fact that he has to take care of his father figure in his decline.

It was curious to me that three different and big budget films released within two months of each other wove in different ideas about fatherhood into their tales. Each film tried to examine its respective protagonist through the lens of fatherhood and came away with slightly different conclusions. Batman, for as much as he describes himself to be a loner, is character with myriad connections. Logan, another self-professed loner, can’t help but to connect to his daughter when they both do what they do best, even though what they do isn’t very nice and could trap them in cycles of violence. Dominic, a man who talks constantly about his familia, showed that his biological family is ultimately more important to him than the friends and peers around him.

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