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#plus a little bit of spectre just to shake things up
scope-dogg · 3 years
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Long post about Mass Effect below
I noticed that there’s a big mass effect trilogy remaster coming out and it just made me think back on how badly the ball was dropped with that series. When the first game came out it immediately became perhaps my favourite game of all time, it was the kind of game where I was tearing up at the ending and then immediately started up a new playthrough the instant the credits got done rolling. The game was extremely jank and rough around the edges and it ran like total shit on the 360, but I loved it anyway because I fell in love with the lore of the universe, the characters and the story. It was one of those games where I’d play it in the most obsessively completionist manner possible, doing every singe sidequest possible, talking to every character on the ship after every mission, browsing the ingame codex for hours on end and dosing up on lore. When it was confirmed that Mass Effect 2 was in development I had such high hopes, of course I wanted to see the gameplay tightened up and the technical side of things improved, but more than that I just wanted to see more of the universe, get more of the universe to explore and learn more about it, and I was especially excited at the possibility that the choices I’d made, especially the massive ones in regards to the council at the end of ME1, would carry forward and really shake up the way the fate of the universe would pan out in the long term.
When the game finally came out, I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t really what I was hoping for. While the combat was much improved over ME1, I couldn’t help but feel like everything else was pared back too much - like, levelling and loot in ME1 weren’t all that well done but I was still really disappointed to see how they were all but stripped out in the sequel. I especially hated how crap sidequests on uncharted worlds were, they were basically just short combat sections with almost nothing in the way of meaningful dialogue or choices to make. Like, don’t get me wrong, uncharted worlds in ME1 felt like the maps were procedurally generated and the Mako had wacky controls, but they still managed to pull off the right atmosphere of going to these dangerous and remote places on alien worlds, and there was some legitimately intriguing stuff going on in some of those sidequests, and it was honestly a little infuriating to see all that basically get the axe entirely instead of getting some polish. I also just felt like the additions to the lore and story were disappointing. I was excited to find out about how society in the Terminus systems was different from Citadel space and meet some new alien races, but that didn’t really happen - I guess they tried with Omega, but that just felt like a mildly edgier version of the Citadel. The only new alien race aside from the Collectors they introduced were the Vorcha and I guess the Batarians if you didn’t play the DLC for ME1, but neither ended up being all that interesting. People remember ME2′s story fondly because of the characters, and I agree that the characters are great, Legion and Mordin especially stand out though all of your squadmates and major supporting characters on the ship are great (except maybe Jacob I guess) as are each of their accompanying stories that get resolved through their loyalty missions, but I think that the actual core plot of ME2 isn’t good at all. The whole thing about you dying and coming back to life seems like it was done just to have the excuse of having a timeskip happen, and I never felt particularly compelled by the Illusive Man or Cerberus as a faction - they were in a sidequest chain in ME1 technically but I still felt like they kind of came out of nowhere and never really fit into the grand scheme of things properly - there’s nothing that they really enable Shepard to do differently that wouldn’t have already been justified by you being a Spectre. The revelations about the Collectors and ultimately what they were doing with the colonists they were kidnapping felt really stupid and pointless apart from giving you an excuse to have a really cheesy and out-of-place final boss. The final mission was only exciting because of the tension of potentially losing one or more of your squadmates than because of what the actual consquences of failure for the galaxy were if you failed. There was no compelling antagonist to square off against like Saren in ME1, and ultimately the whole thing felt kind of pointless - it wasn’t until later after the trilogy was done that I realised that you could take ME2 out of the equation entirely and it wouldn’t make that much difference, but even in those moments as the credits were rolling after I beat the game for the first time, I was struggling to make up my mind about whether I’d actually enjoyed the game or not. I mean, it wasn’t like the game was bad or anything but I was thinking more about the opportunities that they missed rather than the good things they added. I was really missing that sense of discovery and exploring an alien galaxy that the first game had and got left by the wayside for the second. I did start up a new playthrough after that like I did with ME1 but IIRC I didn’t bother finishing that playthrough.
Then along came ME3. Everything about that game is depressing. The whole path of the plot and just the unrelenting apocalyptic tone of the game in general feels like it’s actively punishing you if you actually like the setting, characters, lore and so on and so forth. I know a lot of people like the Citadel DLC that they released because it lightened the tone a bit, but even with that I find it hard to set aside the fact that the universe is literally ending while you’re trying to take a break from it all with how hard the rest of the game beats you over the head with it. How bad the endings were even with the “fix” DLC that got added is a horse that’s been thoroughly beaten to death by now, but it’s not just the endings either. I already didn’t like the Illusive Man or Cerberus and had a hard time buying them as an organisation with the kind of reach and pull they had as portrayed in ME2, but seeing them turn into the Hellghast in ME3 not only betrays that portrayal of them as an org that works through subterfuge but also stretches my disbelief beyond breaking point, plus it brings you into contact with Kai Leng who has to be up there as one of the most obnoxious rival characters in any videogame ever. Otherwise, it did a few things that ME2 did slightly better and some things slightly worse, and didn’t really do anything to recapture the stuff that made ME1 so memorable to me that ME2 skipped out on. And then there was the way that Javik, the game’s most interesting new squadmate by far, was preorder DLC, and then there was the multiplayer that you were kinda forced into playing if you wanted the best ending in the singleplayer (for all the difference that made) and was riddled with lootbox microtransactions (the first major implementation of that in a AAA game IIRC.) The coup de grace for me was when dipshit vidya journalists circled the wagons around Bioware and were taking a dump on angry and disappointed fans who were demanding a change to the ending. Like, looking back I think there was a lot of histrionics involved with that from the fanbase, and let’s just say that the Bioware fanbase has earned a reputation for being particularly turbulent, but even so I really couldn’t stand the attitude that they were taking and it made me hate the game itself by proxy that much more. (I honestly think that entire saga set the stage for Gamergate two years later.)
Eventually when ME Andromeda ended up being a stillborn flop, it didn’t even really move the needle for me that much because ME3 had already set the bar so low. Worse though is that the first game was retrospectively ruined for me. Like I said earlier, I was a hyperfan for that game when it came out, but now I can’t go back to it without thinking about the disappointments that followed it, and its flaws stand out extra hard now. After I beat it for the first time it was my number 1, now I’m not sure it’s in the top 10. There’s probably the added factor that I played it to death and know it almost off by heart which takes the shine away, but that’s also the case for some of my other all-time favourites like Metroid Prime 1 and 2, Ace Combat 2, or Command and Conquer Red Alert 2, but those never really dropped in my estimation the way Mass Effect did. Honestly to this day I’m still waiting for someone to do another star-hopping sci-fi RPG in the same vein as Mass Effect and to pull it off well, because at this point I’m all but certain that it’s not going to be Bioware that does it, not with the new one they’ve got coming in the works or the trilogy remaster.
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asterian · 4 years
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Getaway (Ezra Bridger x reader)
Summary: The reader takes Ezra to a small trip where he can rest a bit of all the pressure everyone puts on him.
Words: 1,150
A/n: someone requested fluff with my boy so here you go, hope you like it and thanks for reading ♥️😘
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Ezra was stressed, you didn't need to have his Jedi powers to sense it. Between the missions, the empire constantly behind the team and his training with Kanan, you understood he must had have a lot of pressure on him, plus Chopper and Zeb always bothering him wasn't helping. They were going to drive the poor boy crazy if you didn't do something.
Taking advantage of the fact that Hera and Kanan had gone to find some supplies and the others were making repairs to the Ghost, you found the perfect time for Ezra to take a break from everything.
Ezra was working inside the little compartment in the Phantom fixing the power cells ruined in the last mission, he was so focused that he didn't realize you were leaning against the door frame of the shuttle. You stared at him while he tried his best to fix and replace the fried wires on the ship, he seemed calm and concentrated as he was humming a song to himself until a poorly connect cable sparked making Ezra jump and let out a tired sigh.
"Stupid wire" he cursed and coughed with the little smoke that had formed. You couldn't help but laugh at the boy who jumped in surprise at your presence accidently kicking his head when he tried to get out of where he was making you laugh even harder "ow!" he said rubbing his head before looking at you "hey, (y/n), I-I didn't see you there, I was a little busy"
"Yeah, I noticed" you said helping him out of the compartment "I also noticed you did everything backwards" you added pointing at the still smoking wires.
"I can't do anything right " he sighed frustrated kicking a nerbay tool. You hated seeing him like this.
"Hey, it's okay Ezra" you assured placing a hand on his making you both blush a bit "we'll fix it when we're back" 
"Back? From where?" he asked with confusion and excitement on his voice.
"Well, you seem in need of a break and I happen to need a guide" you stated owning a raised eyebrow from Ezra. "C'mon, Bridger,  it'll be fun"
He took a second to think your offer, it was true he needed to rest from everything, there had been a lot of changes in his life from being on his own to be part of the Ghost crew  and being trained to become a Jedi, it was a lot to take for a boy his age. He wanted to go with you and let everything behind, even just for a couple of hours. What's life without a little danger after all? plus he got to spend more time with you now that his feelings for you were growing stronger. 
"Let's go"
As soon as he agreed you practically were dragging the blue haired boy as you rushed outside of the ship. Once you reached the ramp you accidentally knocked down Zeb, Ezra and you exchanged a knowing look before start to run again.
"Come back here, kids!" yelled the lasat from where he was on the floor, but you pay him no attention you were too busy running away "I'm gonna kill ya both!"
Giggling you kept running as fast as your legs allowed you to, holding onto one another's hand, feeling the sun in your skin, the wind on your hair and his hand on yours, you felt alive.
After walking about half hour you finally arrived to the place you where looking for, a peaceful and small green valley where you could see some rock formations in the distance.
"This is what you wanted to see?" Ezra exclaimed a bit disappointed "a bunch of old rocks and a lot more of grass?" 
"Yup" you said before laying down on the soft grass with your hands behind your head.
"Why?" he asked more confused than before. You patted at the ground next to you for him to lay down. He sighed and did as you instructed.
"Listen" 
"What? I don't hear anything"
"Exactly" you affirmed "it's quiet, no sound from motors or blasters nor Chopper beeping around"
"Yeah, no Kanan or Hera screaming at me" he added making you both laugh.
Together you watched the clouds ranging from pink to purple shades dancing a gentle dance over the vast blue sky forming all kinds of different shapes, just enjoying the presence of each other. Peace. 
After a time Ezra softly raised a hand pointing at the sky. "That one looks like a loth-cat" 
You laughed softly following your gaze where he was pointing, fascinated by the way he saw things, you simply couldn't be more in love with the boy.
"Which one?" you asked being unable to find the cloud he was referring to. At your surprise he shifted closer to you see from your perspective and pointed again.
"That one" Ezra affirmed "do you see it?" he said looking back at you and blushing at the realization of the sudden closeness. Blue eyes scanned your features for a second sending shades of pink to your cheeks and making your heart beat faster. 
"(Y/n)... I-l" he said awkwardly as is he was searching for the right words to say "thanks for everything,I mean...I didn't know how much I needed this" he confessed propping on his elbows and stared back at the sky then at you a bright smile on his lips. What a beautiful sight you thought.
"You owe me one, Bridger" you joked owning a chuckle from him. You wished you could stay like this forever just you, him and a sky full of loth-cat looking clouds. The sound of your comlink send you back to reality.
“Spectre 6, Spectre 7, where are you?” said a very angry Kanan.
Ezra and you exchanged gazes before he answered "Hey, we went out to do some… recon?"
"Recon?" yelled the Jedi through the comlink.
"Yeah" you assured "so busy, no time to talk, bye" you added finishing the call, you waited a second and then busted in laughter.
"He's gonna kill us when we're back, you know" he reminded you as he helped you to stand up.
"Yeah, I know" you said  "but it was worth it" you cooed and then without thinking you left a light kiss on his cheek very close to the corner of his lips "race to the Ghost!" you challenged and ran leaving the blue haired boy behind flushed and smiling as he caressed the place where your lips were moments ago.
"That's cheating!" he screamed once he processed your words.
"No, it's not!" he heard you yell as you kept running. Ezra shaked his head chuckling and ran after you.
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prose-for-hire · 4 years
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All the better to scratch you with
Pairing: Spike x reader (platonic)
Request: A concept? Or possibly a request? Imagine Spike regularly going to a beauty salon to get his nails properly manicured and painted and he and his beautician are bickering bbfs. I just had that vision and thought you would like it XD (maybe you could write it, if you want to)
Requested by: @therapieliteratur
Warning: Mention/implication of Spuffy. Reader has a boyfriend that isn’t Spike. Mention of character death from season 5.
A/N: Set like early/mid-season 6. I made it an x reader, hope that’s okay. It was meant to be a bit shorter but I had fun. 
Spike stalked down a deserted alleyway, the pitch-black night casting shadows like spectres around him. He would have to be quick if he was going to make it. He couldn’t get caught, not like this. The wind picked up, trees making cruel faces at him and reaching as if to point out his location as he briskly stalked past.
He kept his head down, a fast-pace as he rounded the corner. He checked around him as he came closer to his destination, making sure the street really was clear. The last thing he needed was for people to see. For them to know what he truly got up to after dark.
He entered the little storefront, bell ringing, knowing that although all of the lights were off in the front it was open. Spike raised an eyebrow when he saw who was waiting at the desk for their next booking. Your nail salon was highly sought after, by all kinds of humans and demons. You grinned at him and gestured for him to follow you.
“My, what sharp nails you have” You mutter, taking his hand with a little grin.
“All the better to gouge your bloody eyes out with” He replied, but there was a little glint in his eye. His appointments with you were the highlight of his month sometimes. He didn’t come that often, depends where he managed to get his money from but he liked your company. You and he tended to gossip, between bickering, and it was enjoyable.
“Scratch would have been better – less wordy. More to the point” You offer, starting to buff after shaping the nails, “All the better to scratch you with, for example”
“Well, sometimes a poetic threat is more menacing than ‘to the point’. I hate being all fangy and ‘grr’” He explained, you knew all about vampires and such, Spike started to come to you because this was where Drusilla used to get her nails done, “Anyway what do you know about anything - you’re a sodding nail technician” You give him a look and worked in silence for a while.
“You wanna pick the colour or can I surprise you?” You smile sweetly taking out a selection of pinks you always tried to entice him with. It annoyed him sometimes, but he was fond of you so he put up with it. Plus, you did a hell of a job.
“Black, thank you” He raised his eyebrows, to emphasise his repsonse.
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you with mystery mauve? It’s real cute, look” You show your own nails off to him. He compliments them, but stubbornly sticks with his old favourite. After a while, you sigh again and he gives you a look as if to tell you to spit it out.
“I happen to be well educated, actually. Beauty is my passion - my calling if you will. Much like you and maintaining a terrible excuse for a nailbed apparently” you pulled a finger up to show him and he scowled a little but let you carry on with his nails. You sighed, shaking your head, people really liked to assume about you in the job you did. It was annoying.
“All right, love, you know you’re my favourite sodding person in this horrible little town” He offered quietly, his version of an apology, “…but tell anybody I said that and I’ll be drinking from your brainstem right quick” He hissed.
“But if you drank from my brainstem, you’d have to live with your sorry excuse of a paint-job. I’ve seen you – that time I ran into that demon and you stopped it? You hadn’t come in for months and your nails were horrible by anybody’s standards” You pulled a face at the memory, “I had nightmares, woke up screaming over the mess you had made of your fingernails” You added, shuddering at him.
“That was cutting – really, my heart’s crushed” He put a hand against his chest to demonstrate this which made your eyes bulge.
“Nails!” you warned him, you weren’t going over any of it again, “I wasn’t trying to crush your heart, just splinter it a little” You smiled, carrying on with the job.
Spike spoke of some of his problems for a while as you listened, chipping in when you could. He never told you the name of the mystery person he was pining for, but you had your suspicions. He then asked about you, which made you sigh as you thought about another recent argument you had with your boyfriend.
“My guy’s been avoiding me again, something about a ‘busy social life’ that apparently I’m not invited to” You sighed, you were glad Spike was here - he was your favourite client and he was as good to vent to as he was to listen to.
“You’re too good for him, love, I’ve said it already”
“Well, he’s kind when he wants to be and he only shouts when I’m being a bitch to him” You replied, frowning as you thought about it.
“I’ve told you before, you need me to come and give him a good scare and I’ll do it. About bloody time somebody showed him the bumpy part of a forehead” Spike left out that he would be using the bumpy part of his forehead against the soft part of your man’s nose if he could. From what he’d picked up over the last few months, your relationship wasn’t going to last very much longer. He thinks you deserve better anyway.
“Anyway, did you see Buffy Summers recently? Her hair has never been so short, what do you think?” You said, gauging his reaction as you waited for the polish to dry. Your salon was attached to the hairdressers Buffy comes to get her hair cut in. She was friendly and you felt a bit sorry for her after her Mom died.
“I don’t think much of it” Spike said a little too quickly. You looked up, raising your eyebrows but he was looking outside, checking the sky to see if it was starting to get light out. You opened all night, offering beauty needs to the creatures of the night.
“Well, I think it’s cute, she’s got the face for it. Whereas if I went that style I would look like a potato” You say, still looking at his face. For someone that prides themselves on being scary, his heart was pretty much always on his sleeve.
“Your hair’s nice as it is. Keep it that way” He said, but you just rolled your eyes. You’d change the style every time he saw it, saying each time the newest was his favourite on you. There were some new extensions that had just come in that you were planning on styling and trying out.
Eventually, after some more bickering over the merits of acrylic nails over more natural nails, you were finished. The black looked good and you were pleased with your work, little did you know he would get in a fight on the way home and mess your beautiful work up. Spike tipped surprisingly well, which might be why it took him so long between appointments and promised to be back again soon.
“Bye, Spike!” You call as he stepped through the door, “I’m sure Buffy will really like them” you teased, not able to just let him off. You waved at him as he rolled his eyes, sticking his two polished, well-manicured fingers up at you as he left.
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nothisis-ridiculous · 3 years
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Take Me Home Now: Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven: To The Place I Belong
Set after the events of ME3.
A rewrite. Ao3.
FemShepxKaidan
Evelyn ripped around the Recruit; the endless stream of energy the kid displayed was a thing of envy. She was an old soldier indeed- growing exhausted from just watching the child play about excitedly. Once she swore never to become that person, but it had progressed subconsciously. It was far more than a physical tired; emotionally and mentally, she was a strange form of exhaustion that taxed her brain to move on a typical day- on the worst days, it was immobilizing. "Please, just one more lift," the mousy-haired girl begged. "You're going to get me in trouble again." Evelyn pouted, "she's not watching right now. Plus, Rahna said she isn't mad it just makes her sad, which makes her act mad." "So you want to make her sad?" "No," but there was still a little bit of defiance in the utterance. "Plus, don't you want some of that energy for Pater?" "Ugh, we won't be there for  forever ."
"You could try napping in the Mako," Jane retreated as the kid threw her a cross look, "or you could write another log." The kid was precocious, but Jane liked that about her. She was only privy to the existence of the log because of her Spectre status. Evelyn had believed what all others would take as a lie at face value. Claiming a secret mission, the kid was more than onboard to keep mum about the existence of a previous life. Though Evelyn may begrudge her later, Jane hadn't utterly lied to her. "But, you're doing dangerous things," Evelyn whined. Super dangerous if they allowed the seven-year-old to bother her, no doubt, "I suppose I am. How about you help me keep an eye out for any baddies?" It kept her entertained for a while, at least until Jane started to recognize some of the roads again. Her detail was ornamental at this point the route had been quiet. Who would disturb a company of Makos and Kodiak shuttles? Having boots on the ground was only required because of the state of chaos the city was under from reasons that ran from collapsed structures to faulty ordinances. The medical equipment was worth far more than creds; it was a step toward rebuilding. Jane paused once the building crested the horizon, the corpse of Harbinger in rest behind it. Her hand raised, bringing the caravan to an immediate halt. "What's the holdup?" the 2nd lieutenant buzzed over her comm. "I want a scan of this area, "Jane couldn't quite place the exact threat, it was an absurd tingle that whispered caution, "get behind me." The woman's demeanor bid the child to comply. "Mec-" Jane's pistol fired a split second before the comm's warning, blasting the processing 'head' clean off the LOKI unit. "Woah, Woah, Woah," a figure shouted from between the buildings, the white-haired figure raised his hands, "just mechs, Recruit." "Pater!" Evelyn cried, running from her side without a hint of caution. Half tackling the man with the ferocity of her joy, but he recovered quickly, spinning the girl around before setting her down. Holding her hand for the rest of the trip to the convoy. Roy's forehead knocked against her's, hands holding her face, "fucking hell, Recruit." "LT." "Jane, you-" his voice quivered before it left, pushing her aside with unintended belligerence. His steps were wobbly as he approached the short woman wearing a sour expression. They stared at one another. He stopped just out of arms reach from the woman. "I'm not going to smack you, you old geezer." The LT muttered something unintelligible as he swept the woman up into his arms. Cue the crying and all the grotesque cuteness one could endure from the scene. Jane had to look away; it was like watching her parents kiss. It was something better left unimagined and unseen, and sure it happened just somewhere else. The pang of envy was also unbearable, despite how happy she felt for them. It was time to look for an exit. Apparently, after trouble ran into her- "It's nice to see some of the Alenko family reunited." "Is this a joke to you?" envy helped pull a simmering anger into a seething mass of it. Rahna remained gentle, undaunted, "it would be good for all of you to have some closure." Logic bid that Strawberry couldn't have known that her Roy was the Major's father. While she knew who Helen was, Jane hadn't been exactly willing to spend any time with another person during her recovery. It all seemed obvious now if she hadn't been so clouded with grief and self-gratifying misery. "Please, let me go," Jane begged. ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ Harbinger's warm (for London) breath collided around her form. They sat in a prolonged stalemate of silence, the Reaper judging the creature before him. What was a flawed creature of flesh compared to a collective intelligence? This ant was pathetic, hardly able to pose a threat to itself. Yet here it sat, thinking it was worthy of words. But it wasn't without pithy for the small things. "Death wouldn't claim you." Why would it? The real punishment was surviving. Reliving the guilt without a
barrier to stop the whole barrage of the tide. While she fought and campaigned against forces that seemed impossible, she had a way to hold back the pain. A reason to forget, a goal that kept her focused on what was forward and not on the past. The failure of losing one homeworld seemed small compared to the loss of all advanced life in the Milky Way. But now, with time, without a goal to keep her focus forward the weight of Thessia, Earth, The Citadel, Palavan, and countless untold colonies compounded together. Her personal failures insult to the injury. If only she could have provided more evidence about the Reaper threat. If she had tried harder, been louder, would they have listened to her? Was it a mistake to abandon Cerebrus? They were evil, no doubt, but could those resources have made the difference? If they had managed to find the Catalyst earlier, the galaxy would have suffered less loss. Instead of the Illusive Man needing to make her an enemy, would her compliance have stopped the indoctrination of the organization? Had she pushed them to that extreme? Was it a mistake to not take the Dalatrass's deal and fool the krogan? Even if for a short while. Was her moral qualm worth the lives and time it took? There was always more she could have given. Her repentance must be witnessing the Galaxy struggle to rebuild after what she had brought upon it. "Who would believe you were Shepard?" Just another facet she wanted to forget. How could she face his parents? Was it wrong to stick around? Helen was a nominal presence in her life, but the LT... him she couldn't forsake. Roy's company brought her peace, likely out of familiarity, a brief reprieve from the current of guilt that swept her under. Guilt she didn't want to bring into their relationship, shame that her attempt to save his son had failed. She wasn't ready to talk about Kaidan or the Normandy. It was still too much of a burden, the force petrifying her humanity. What would it change between them? Or the way everyone looked at her? Would they shun her for what she could no longer be? Couldn't she steal a little light? At the time, she hadn't saved the man for Kaidan, but at least she could protect them now. Or try her damnedest as Jane, as much would not be expected from her. "I see we found Harold again," a graveled voice chided disapprovingly. Jane flinched at the physical contact, finding her words to come out in a tumbling mess, "shouldn't you be shacking up with your old lady?" "Who's to say I haven't." Now, this was super gross, "you picked a fun one." His eyebrow raised, but he otherwise ignored the undertone of Jane's statement, "Alenko men always pick a partner far out of their league. I think my son really took the cake, though." Jane tensed, waiting for the inevitable. He knew. He had to. Rahna wouldn't keep quiet, not now. Why else would he leave his wife? Nearly two years' absence was nothing compared to a stranger disappearing for a month. "A Spectre is a Spectre, and never for an arbitrary reason," she retorted defensively, no longer waiting for the blow to come. It was also a little personal- she loathed whenever someone implied Kaidan simply rode her coattails. Yes, he was monumentally important in her crusade, but the man was his own force to be reckoned with. He was capable, intelligent, level-headed, and most of all kind. It was rare to have someone never ask anything of her, as he had. Rarer to not be put on a pedestal, the Major had always seen her as human. As a person and not the title. Despite how challenging the distance between them had been, she would always respect that he never wavered on his choice to act independently from her. "Heh, did someone have a celebrity crush?" Roy shook his head, "I didn't come here to reminisce. I wanted to speak with you about something." "Okay, let's have it." He took in a deep breath, folding his arms in a manner that made her question how she had missed the resemblance, "about that day, the raid. Look, I appreciate what you were trying to do for me, but never do
that again." "I can't promise that," she returned flatly. "You know," he drew in a steadying breath, his tenor turning into a heartbreaking rumble, "it's possible you have people out there that care about you. You're a stubborn shit, but you're becoming like one of my own. Maybe you can't imagine someone coming back for you, but one day someone's going to thank me for keeping your sorry ass alive for them." "You can lecture me all you like then," she quipped, but the hot tears slipping out from the corners of her eyes betraying her true feelings. Roy's hand returned to her shoulder, letting the woman release in complete silence. He waited a few minutes after her shaking had stopped to speak again. "But you should come inside, there may or may not be a banner with your name on it awaiting you," he said wryly, "while I think Evelyn may not mind all the attention on her, she does not need that much cake."
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sigcy · 3 years
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We dabble in writing fics, as well! Here’s a slowburn sigcy fic (it’s still a WIP, first posted on AO3) that Mod Cricket and I worked on together. (CW for violence.) Part Four.
[ Part One ] | [ Next Part (coming soon!)]
Overwatch’s Recall had been in operation for nearly a year. Supported by the League of Nations-- the community of city states that had united post-crisis-- Gibraltar, Hong Kong, The Vatican, Singapore, and others, Overwatch managed to squeak by. They had supplies needed, personnel in roles filled, and the Watchpoints around the world began to fill with agents and recruits alike. Their numbers weren’t like they were in their golden days, but they got things done. They were striking blows against Talon everywhere they went-- Teams taking out supplies, intel runners doing their best keeping tabs on the organization. Talon was seeking to start another Crisis-- potentially ending the human race as they knew it.
And so they had to be stopped before they reached their goal.
But it was difficult--easier said than done-- Whatever they did, it seemed that Talon always seemed to be one step ahead of them. Where Overwatch stopped an incident in one location, Talon would succeed in another. Civilian casualties-- Human and Omnic alike. With each passing day, they teetered further and further toward the cliffs of war.
Angela Ziegler was one of them-- having joined back up as soon as she could. She immediately took her place as head of medical sciences-- spearheading the organization and along with Winston, and the newly rescued Mei-Ling Zhou, hoped to point this new Overwatch down a better path. They adamantly insisted they were not a Mercenary group, nor did they have any semblance of a Blackwatch organization in their ranks. Jesse McCree and Genji Shimada served just as much as the rest of them. Reinhardt, Brigitte and Torbjorn all returned of their own volition. Miss Fareeha volunteered her time, as well. With a daring rescue to Rio, they even had Lucio Correia dos Santos and Satya Vaswani-- a Vishkar defector. Even Hanzo-- Genji’s older brother-- had joined their ranks. Lena was present, her girlfriend in toe. The little family they had all been once before seemed to come together once again. More had joined them, over time.
Thursday, November 18th, 2077.
0319.
Angela didn’t know the specifics on how the mission went down. Nor, did she entirely care at the moment. She’d been bogged down with work at base-- requisition orders, several video conferences with UN officials, and her usual filing and medical paperwork-- and had been ultimately unable to tag along on the mission. and so when she’d been awoken by Athena requesting urgent assistance to the returning team, she didn’t waste a moment getting ready. A pair of flats, her usual black-on-black, her hair thrown up into a quick, messy bun. She looked tired, but still threw on her usual bit of makeup to hide that fact.
The prisoner—patient— asset-- had been 'captured', on her request. Athena believed the man to be rather important in Talon’s ranks— one of their scientists, judging by biometric scan and matching reports alone. Siebren de Kuiper, an astrophysicist that had been institutionalized following an accident that left many people dead. He’d gone missing following another incident involving Talon agents seemingly breaking him out— and now... here he was. Working with Talon? Or for them? Her colleagues wanted to know. They all needed to know. This could severely hurt Talon as they knew it. Baptiste had been sent; their only agent who had enough know how of Talon's Fulcrum to free Dr. de Kuiper.
“Angie, You gotta be careful with that guy. His file weirds me out. Story doesn't add up.” Jesse crossed his arms in front of his chest, the American furrowing his brow at the medic as she checked over the man’s file that Athena had prepared for her. He’d taken off his hat, a gesture of respect to Angela in her wing. “Guy took a couple’a bullets and still came comin’. He’s not to be messed with, darlin’.”
“Yes, Dr. Ziegler. McCree is right.” Genji insisted, the cyborg taking a similar stance as the two of them urged Angela to be careful. “He has a power unlike anything we have ever seen. It would be best if you didn’t go in alone--”
“I will be fine, gentlemen.” She responded, giving a warm, appreciative smile to them both. She appreciated their concern-- but she had handled all sorts of patients. “If he is as unstable as you insist, It would be best not to overcrowd him. Plus-- I wasn’t there, and so he likely won’t recognize me as easily. Perhaps from the old posters... But... he will hopefully not equate me with violence. It will be okay.” She reached out and patted at them both, to which Jesse simply sighed and shook his head.
“Ya really are a handful, doc. Yer gonna getch’yerself hurt, yannow that?”
“I am aware, Jesse. Thank you.” She reached up and tapped the man’s nose with a fingertip, scanning over the datapad with her eyes one last time before she turned to the door in question.
“The prisoner has been sedated to keep him still. He is also cuffed to the bed as per procedure.” Athena’s voice piped up from the nearby wall interface-- the insignia lighting up and catching her attention. They couldn't take any chances after what had happened with Amelie and Gerard all those years ago, she supposed.
Angela was to stabilize his condition, and hopefully get any information she could out of him. She was used to strange patient cases— just look at Genji, and Reinhardt, and even McCree. First, though… She had to stop the sedative and get him coherent.
The medic dismissed the armed guards outside the door to the room— who both insisted she leave the restraints on the man, and that he was incredibly dangerous. They insisted to stay nearby— but she retorted and demanded to have at least the room’s privacy. She was sure she could handle the man herself. There was no patient that she had been unable to deal with before-- and she had almost a lifetime of experience.
And so... she stepped into the room, spying the behemoth of a man where he lay. Sedated, injured, hooked to a caduceus IV that had been slowly fixing his injuries. Returning him to the peak of health. His file claimed that he was unpredictable and dangerous, yet she entered the room unarmed-- confident. Baptiste sat nearby, arms crossed over his chest as he slept in his chair. Angela couldn't help but smile at them both. A tap to his shoulder was enough to wake Baptiste, and the other medic only straightened in his chair before looking to Dr. de Kuiper.
"He knows you, Ma'am." Baptiste mused, leaning forward in his chair.
"A lot of people know me, Jean." Her shoes tapped on the tile as she approached, quietly pinching off the sedative stream into Dr. de Kuiper's IV, and ultimately removing the needle from the injection point. It would take several minutes for him to come to, and so she simply looked over his file on a datapad--committing things to memory-- until the man began to stir, his eyes opening and his mouth curling into a confused frown. He was tall-- akin to that of Reinhardt, she supposed. He’d been given basic pants after his gear had been stripped, and was tucked in to the bed with a hardlight cuff keeping his IV arm in place, secured to the bed. Another hardlight strip crossed his hips, holding him down. His face was scarred, and his mouth curled down in a frown line-- this man had certainly led a rough life-- just looking at his face alone. His frown turned into a grimace as he shifted slightly, obviously still sore.
“Can you hear me, Dr. Kuiper?” She asked, her voice soft and as comforting as she could manage as the man furrowed his brow and blinked away the bright lights of the hospital room. His eyes focused first on the ceiling, then drifted over to her as she repeated her question-- taking the little medic in and looking her up and down--sizing her up.
In all but a moment, he was awake and coherent, snapping to attention as he seemed to realize his situation-- his face twisting in anger as he yanked his arm up at the cuff, letting out a furious growl at the restraint. His breath hitched, anger and panic setting in as he pulled again, and again, and again. He looked to Baptiste, and to Angela, and he let out another furious grunt.
“Dr. Kuiper, I need you to calm down--” She started, her hands reaching out to try and steady him-- only to have a lashing hand grasp roughly at her chest with a tightened fist, drawing her up and in close by the shirt as he half-sat up.
“Release me!” He bellowed, and at that moment the woman was lifted from the ground ever so slightly-- not by force alone, however. The room almost felt lighter, the floor rumbling as though he caused it to shift and shake. “I will be a prisoner no longer! I was promised!” The medic kicked her legs, her mouth curling into a grimace and her brows furrowing in almost fear.
“Dr. Kuiper, I--!!” She started, before Baptiste intervened.
"Hey, hey, hey. It's alright." Dark hands touched at Dr. de Kuiper's shoulders, pulling the man's attention away from his commander. "Let's talk. It's alright. No one here aims to hurt you." A pause, and Baptiste tilted his head to the side, gesturing to the glowing gold caduceus IV above his head, its line trailing into his arm. "You were at that convention, right? When she told the world about her thesis? You told me you met her then. You know her, she sent me for you!"
Sigma paused, periwinkle eyes flicking to the caduceus IV as it hung above him. There was a moment of silence, a moment of shaking breath. After a few seconds, his eyes turned back to Angela-- the spectre of a woman who had haunted him all these years, and his fist was clenched in the fabric of her shirt. She weighed so little, and he could barely tell if it was his own strength or his mind that lifted her and several other objects in the room. Bright blue eyes looked at him, surprised far more than afraid.
"Put her down, big guy. Neither of us mean you any harm." Baptiste said, and it was as though he suddenly came to. He snapped to attention, gently returning the acting-commander to the floor as though she were made of glass. Movements slow, deliberate, delicate.
"I..." Dr. de Kuiper started, slowly pulling his hand he'd used in rage back to his side. "I am so sorry."
Angela dusted herself off, nodding in thanks to Baptiste as the medic's hands moved away from Sigma's shoulders. "You are forgiven, Dr. de Kuiper." She smiled, righting her clothing as though he hadn't touched her at all.
The smile made him hate the fact he even breathed the same air as her. It was warm, kind, and genuine. Like the first light after a terrible storm. An offer of grace. His gut twisted in anxiety as she turned to retrieve a datapad that had been dropped, looking to his vitals screen and scribbling on the datapad's surface for a few moments, and throwing a knowing look to Baptiste.
"I apologize for this whole situation, Dr. de Kuiper." Baptiste murmured, moving to sit back down. "For the record, they had to cuff me as well when I first arrived here."
"It isn't the first time we have... acquired operatives from Talon. Once, one of our informants ended up killed because of our carelessness." Angela's voice was blunt, still writing on her datapad.
"Amelie La'Croix." Siebren looked down at his lap, cupping at his forehead.
Blue eyes flicked down at Siebren where he sat, mouth pressed into a line. "You know her, I presume?"
Siebren sat quietly for many moments, before nodding. "She was... A shell. Emotionless, cold. I thought that that was just how she was... I--I'd never met her prior to... what happened, but--"
"Let's not talk about her." Baptiste offered a smile, standing up and undoing the man's hardlight restraints fully. "You're at Overwatch's base of Operations, in Gibraltar. You've been asleep for a few hours."
"I don't remember going to sleep."
"The water I gave you on the ship. It--" Baptiste started to explain, but Siebren only huffed.
"You could have told me."
"That was the point, my friend. I hope you'll forgive me."
"He was only following protocol, Dr. de Kuiper." Angela mused, a gentle hand placing itself on Siebren's shoulder as she sat on the edge of his bed. Her hand was warm, and it made his heart skip a beat, periwinkle eyes looking to her searchingly.
There was a knock at the door, and Angela's attention was pulled away as the door opened to an omnic nurse bringing in a tray of food, setting it on the side table next to Siebren's bed.
"Thank you, Sybil." Angela smiled at the nurse, until she caught two more peering faces from the door frame. Jesse and Genji. Jesse's face was twisted into a distrusting almost anger, while Genji's was always unreadable. Protective, furious. She only smiled reassuringly at them both, and Jesse crossed his arms in front of his chest before the door closed, the omnic nurse leaving the room once more.
"I am sure you're hungry, friend." Baptiste mused, and Angela stood, reaching to the side table to deliver the food to Siebren's lap. Toast, an unopened bottle of Orange Juice, an apple and some yogurt-- staples in hospital cuisine.
"If this isn't enough, feel free to ask for more." Angela added, looking to Baptiste with a nod. "I will let you rest, for now. Baptiste, why don't you go back to your quarters? You deserve rest, as well." Information that was needed would have to come later.
Siebren's heart panged as he realized he'd be left alone again, and he looked up to her, and then up to Baptiste. Frantic, almost. Don't leave him alone again, he was fit for work, he was--
"No, no, I'm fine, I--"
"Dr. Ziegler, why not leave him with at least something to keep him busy?" Baptiste's tone was gentle, knowing, as he gathered his jacket from the back of the chair he'd settled into. She had no idea what he'd been through-- but Baptiste had an inkling.
Angela paused for a moment, before nodding. "My apologies, of course. I will be right back." Angela took a step back, collecting herself and disappearing through the door within a few seconds. The room fell into silence, before Baptiste only turned on his heel and laughed lightly.
"Now it makes sense, doctor." He laughed, shaking his head.
"E-Excuse me?" Siebren furrowed his brow, collecting his orange juice and cracking the bottle open.
"You love her, don't you?" He turned to Siebren, nodding, a knowing smile across his face as though he were teasing an old friend. "You love Commander Ziegler!"
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myhauntedsalem · 3 years
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13 Creepy Camping Encounters That Will Put You off the Great Outdoors
1. The Crying Girl
“When I was younger probably like 10 or 11, I went camping with my family. I’ll just get right into it. It was about 1 or 2 in the morning, and I couldn’t really sleep. The tent me and my brother were in was really hot, and very uncomfortable. Anyway, while I was trying to go to bed I heard a very faint whimper. I tried to ignore it because I figured I was just tired. Our campsite was along a road with many other camps nearby. The whimper started to get louder, and then turned into crying. I heard footsteps outside of our tent, and a girl crying.
Now let me tell you, it didn’t go faint, it got louder and louder. It remained in the same spot the entire time. That’s so important because, it indicates that she was looking at our tent site, crying. It gets worse, then it turned into a full on scream for a few seconds, then cuts out. When she started screaming by brother woke up. We both look at each other and just get all the pillows and stuff our head under them.
I couldn’t sleep at all that night. I’m just glad we left the next morning.” – Keithic
2. The Shaking
“This happened to an acquaintance of mine and his son. This took place back in the early ’90s.
He had taken his young son for a father and son type hike out of Skagway. If any of you are familiar with Skagpatch, there is quite a network of trails above town at lower Dewey lakes.
So, it’s evening, dinner done, tent up, bed time. Sometime later, around midnight, he’s woken up by the tent shaking violently, then silence. Then again. Keep in mind its late August, and pitch black, I mean as pitch black as you can get under the heavy coastal rain forest with no moon.
This shaking kept up for over an hour. He had no idea what it was. He went out with his headlamp, yelled, and heard nothing. Would go back in the tent, then it would start up again. He could here footsteps whenever it happened.
He was pretty shaken up by the next morning as you could imagine.
He reported it to the troopers, and the only thing they could come up with was someone with a night vision set up messing around. Or something else…” – Yukoner
3. The Middle of the Woods
“This happened to me when I was little. I went camping with my older brother and my mom. I was about 7 or 8 and I went to bed around 10 in a sleeping bag inside my tent with both my mom and brother. Some time during the night, I don’t know when, I woke up somewhere in the middle of the woods still in my sleeping bag. I had no idea where I was or where my tent was. I screamed for my mom and I heard her calling back for me in panic but she was easily 100 yards away or so. To this day I have no idea how I ended up in the middle of the woods still inside my sleeping bag. Gives me the chills.” – cckaufmann
4. The Hanging Man
“Hiking the Appalachian Trail in Pennsylvania for a week in…2006 and my brother and I came across a young man who had hung himself. We sprinted up to the bluff where he was strung up. I wrapped my arms around his waist to take weight off his neck while my brother cut him down with his Leatherman. He had thrown the rope up over a tall branch and lashed it off with a clove hitch at the trunk like you’d hang a bear-bag. Must’ve climbed the branches and dropped once laced in. We probably shouldn’t have even tried, he was dead for sometime before we happened across him. Fortunately no critters had come to tear him apart before we found him, it would’ve only gotten grislier from there. Called 911. Ended our trip pretty damn quick.
I don’t know why we tried, it was very obvious he had been dead for some time. Don’t know how long, he was very cold and smelled pretty bad. Intuition to help someone and adrenaline that clouds your judgement I guess? It was kind of a fucked up day so I don’t really remember my thought process.” – Anonymous
5. Scratches
“About one month ago, we are riding a favorite trail up near Camp Verde. Oldest son is leading, youngest is following him, a friend behind him and I am sucking up rear. Come over a hill and I see my youngest son with all of his gear off and his jersey. I came up asking what was wrong, thinking that he crashed, He said his back was burning. I looked and there were three scratches across his back. Looked like claw marks. No blood, but very distinct. He had a chest/back protector on so there is no way a tree branch or anything got him. We finally got him geared back up and headed out. About 30 minutes later, we reached a spot where we always stop for a break. I asked him to take the jersey off so that I could see the scratches again. They were completely gone.” – THB
6. Music in the Night
“A couple of years ago my brother bought a large piece of land out in the middle of nowhere, about thirty miles or so from cell phone reception. It’s quiet, there is no light pollution, no paved roads, and not a lot of people around.
Shortly after he bought the place, two of my brothers (the land owner and another), me, and our families spent a weekend camping on the land and doing our best to clean it up; people had used it as a dump, there were many downed trees, etc. On the second night we camped there, I woke up in the middle of the night to take a leak. As I was walking to the bushes in the dark, I realized that I could faintly hear music. This didn’t strike me as odd because I knew my brother had a radio in his camper. I finished up and went back to sleep with no further thought on the matter.
The next morning at breakfast, I mentioned the radio and music. Several other people recalled waking in the night and hearing music, but no two people heard the same music. Finally, the brother who brought the radio woke up. I asked him about the music and he seemed a bit freaked out. He woke up sometime during the night and went outside to smoke. He heard music as well and had assumed it was someone else. I should mention that he was the only one with a generator and a radio. It wasn’t his radio we heard, it wasn’t anyone else’s either.
I’ve been back several times, but I’m a bit freaked out by that place at night. I have fun while I’m there, but I’m almost always armed and I don’t sleep in a tent anymore, I sleep in my SUV with the doors locked. It may seem kinda dumb, but realizing that everyone heard different music when there are no people, no functional radios, and no electricity is quite creepy.” – goat-of-mendes
7. The Light
“We were in a river-side cabin one night in Northern Michigan. I had just stretched out when a huge crack erupted from the woods. Both of us thought it was a branch or old tree that had fallen.
After he turned off the living room light, we noticed that the light coming from the windows was abnormally strong. This sent our nerves to a new high. The light seemed to pulse several times and got so bright at one point you could have read a book by it. It couldn’t have been a car as we were almost a mile off the road on a dirt trail. Plus, the light came in from all the windows equally.
Every so often we would hear a strange humming noise that penetrated that cabin. This lasted almost half an hour. We talked about just running out to the car and leaving but neither one of us wanted to go outside.
After the light went out, we sat on the couch, occasionally putting forth theories on what it could have been. Around four o’clock in the morning, there was another loud crack. We worried that the light might come back but nothing happened.” – R. Bassil
8. Blue Spectre
“My friend and I were walking just outside of the circle of cabins. It was a bright night with all the stars shining and the moon was well lit. There was a campfire going, and in one of the big cabins there was a party going on with music and so on. We were walking, and we both got a really weird feeling, as if we were being watched. We both turned toward the sea… we saw a blue figure, very tall – about 7 feet – walking through the trees. It made no sound at all. It was a bright blue and glowing figure walking through the forest. It was emitting a shimmery aura, and my friend and I both became very frightened. We shouted at whatever that thing was and we were asking it what it was. We got no reply, of course, but we expected one. We stared as it walked away and out of our vision; we didn’t dare follow it.
We then ran back to the group of people at the camp fire, screaming and describing what we saw. Another friend of mine claimed he was watching it from a distance not far from were we were and was just as frightened as I was.” – Devin
9. Footsteps Upstairs
“Not something I experienced, but my sister and her husband did.
My family used to have a cabin on a lake in the Northwoods. It’s a lake with no public access. On the other side is/was an old Girl’s Camp that the state was letting fall apart. The camp had a large, two-story main house that was mostly intact at the time.
My sister and her husband decided to check out the camp one day. They canoe’d over and started to walk around. They went into the Main House first. They walked around for a bit. And then they heard heavy footsteps upstairs. These footsteps turned into someone running heavily towards the stairs.
My sister and her husband booked it out of the house, but they could hear the steps coming down the stairs and on the main level as they ran out. They opted to run around the house instead of heading back to the shore.
They never saw who it was, but they heard them enter back into the house. And then they heard them storm back outside again. They went into the woods this time and heard someone running in the woods after them.
They took the long way around the lake back to the cabin.
My dad and I had to go back later that day to get the canoe. We never heard or saw anything.” – joftheinternet
10. Geocaching
“I’ve been geocaching in the woods many times, and occasionally one runs into caches with weird things in them. The creepiest was an ammo box with only a handful of finds that contained broken doll parts and a handwritten note that said “Look behind you”. I definitely had the heebie-jeebies and double-timed it back to my car despite it being the middle of the day. It’s crossed my mind before that geocaching would be a great way for a serial killer to lure people out to remote locations.” – Anonymous
11. Who Followed Us?
“This happened in 81 or 82. Not sure anymore.
I had made friends with a fellow I worked with and offered to take him gigging for frogs. He was from the city and had never spent any time in the woods at night. The farm I had permission to do it on was only about a mile from my place. My friend showed up at 10:30 or so and I gave him a gig and a flashlight. We decided to walk to the other farm. We didn’t get far before we both heard something walking in the dark to the side of us. I’ve been in the woods all my life and I’ve had plenty of deer follow me but I wasn’t going to tell him that. It was clear he was getting spooked. We climbed a fence and continued on. Then we heard something else climb the fence.
Deer don’t climb fences. I tried looking around with the flashlight but he wanted none of it. We could see the house lights of the place we were going to and he ran off on me and beat on the guy’s door until they let him in. By the time I got there Mr. Barber, (the land owner), and his wife was out on the porch and wanted to know what was going on. Mr. Barber and I went back and had a look around but found nothing. My friend refused to walk back and Mr. Barber gave us a ride back to my place. We never did find out what or who it was that was following us.
My friend decided that frogging wasn’t for him. He has also refused to go on several fishing trips I have invited him to. I can’t say I was too comfortable with what happened but I haven’t let it stop me from frogging.” – Smoker
12. The Circle
“I was backpacking in New Hampshire and camped out for the night after a day hike. I wondered off from our fire to go take a piss and stumbled upon a circle etched into the ground with tuning forks surrounding the circle standing up straight…It looked like a creepy ritual circle and it bugged me out so I booked it back to the group.” – ITS_A_BADTIME_BOB
13. The Gator
“Few years ago I was camping in the Everglades in Florida with a few friends. We all had gone into our separate tents and were starting to fall asleep. The area was pretty noisy with bugs, crickets, birds, etc. I heard this very low vibration, sounding almost like a low roar. it was powerful enough to vibrate in my chest. Suddenly everything in the forest shut up. no bugs, no birds, nothing. about thirty seconds later my phone vibrates and its my friend in the other tent texting me asking if i heard the same thing. the four of us kept texting each other, wondering what it was. about ten minutes later all the animals slowly started making noise again. I slept that night with my machete at arms reach.
A lot of people are saying it might have been a gator. We were in an elevated area that was far from any streams or ponds. Its possible there might have been a pond with a gator that we missed, but the very big ones tend to hang out in lakes.” – Biggs180
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amberfawzy · 3 years
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Un-expecting the Expected | Para
Featuring: Miguel & Amber Hernandez (with Alexandre Reyes & Dr. Zoie Barlowe; mentions of Sofia & Demetri Hernandez) Location: Pure Space, Portland, OR & Providence St. Vincent Hospital, Portland, OR Time Frame: Friday March 26 & Saturday March 27, 2021 Notes: The evening takes an unexpected turn while at a launch party for Titan
Miguel:
Even though Miguel hadn't wanted to admit it, the Spectre launch party felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. After all the work that he had done, in addition to all of the drama that had come with the lead up to the launch, it was glad that it was finally out there in the world. In a way it let him feel like he had finally won - after Apple had cost him his first marriage and almost his fourth, after he had had things stolen, even with the lawsuit, it was the first time that he really felt like he had come out on top.
And it felt fantastic.
So he let himself enjoy the party, feeling like he had accomplished so much more than just launching a new product, and with it came a joy that was rare to see in Miguel. He had worked on the speech for a week, insisting on writing it himself.  And taking to the stage, he let himself take a breath before smiling out at the crowd and starting.
Amber:
The launch party was a beautiful spectacle. Amber was enjoying their time out with Miguel and celebrating his and his company's hard work and successful premiere. It wasn't lost on them that all of this was nearly derailed a handful of months ago but they were forever grateful that the truth was uncovered and that Miguel had such a damn good legal team. In addition to their pride, they were happy to have a reason to get a little dressed up and go out with Miguel one more time before the twins were born.
After a bit of mingling about the room, conversing with some of their husband's colleagues and friends, Amber decided to sit down. Their back was aching and the Braxton Hicks had started up again. Amber took it as a cue to sit down. With a hand resting on their ballooned stomach, they picked up their water glass and took long sips, watching people gradually take their own seats as the emcee prepared to introduce Miguel. Amber smiled softly over to Andre as he sat at the same table, and then they drank some more water.
Unlike past times, however, the Braxton Hicks didn't seem to subside with the water consumption. Amber tried ignoring it so that they could listen to Miguel, but the contractions were intensifying. Brows furrowing, they took a slow, deep breath while keeping their eyes on their husband. That was, until they felt a warm gush spreading fast beneath their dress. They had read about pregnant women peeing on themselves but Amber felt fairly sure that this wasn't it. Panic quickly set in as their eyes went back to Miguel, unable to shake the alarmed expression from everywhere on their face, except for the smile stuck on their face.
Miguel:
It was hard to look out at the crowd, the lights were bright, and truthfully it took awhile for his eyes to adjust. So he focused on his speech, the tablet that he had it up on, and once he was used to the atmosphere, Amber.
They were in one of the few seats that Miguel could see, and at first he could only see their smile. And then the next time he looked, it seemed almost as if Amber was in pain. Though with the Braxton-Hicks and the fact that the twins could easily be kicking somewhere uncomfortable.  But the third time that Miguel looked at his wife, it was clear that something was wrong. They didn't tend to stay uncomfortable this long and the way that their eyes looked, it just made Miguel worry.
Which the fact that it was during his speech just made it all too real.
Miguel had to find a stopping point, which wasn't easy, and reluctantly went into an ending that seemed rushed, but still wrapped things up. At least the best that he could. And as the applause walked him off the stage, he immediately went over to Amber. "Are you alright?"
Amber:
Before Miguel's speech had swiftly concluded, the pain had steadily subsided but Amber was sure that this wasn't Braxton Hicks, and she was becoming more and more sure that she hadn't accidentally peed herself. With the panic pretty firmly set in and wheels trying to turn in her mind, she tried to think of the best plan of action while drawing the least amount of attention to herself; here and now was about Titan.
While everyone applauded Miguel for his speech, Amber's expression finally fell as she exhaled, cradling her large pregnant belly. She made herself take a few deep breaths and when Miguel approached and checked on her, her voice hiked up an octave from its usual tone while she gave a few small shakes of her head. She kept the volume of her voice relatively low, "Nope! Nope, mm-mm, no. Either I've peed myself or my water broke, and I'm pretty sure it's the latter. And I'm pretty sure I've been having contractions tonight. Like real deal, non-Braxton Hicks."
During Amber's response to Miguel, Andre made his way over from the other side of the table and caught the tail end of what Amber was saying. He picked up on what was going on and said, mostly to Miguel, "I can take you both to the hospital, or I can stay here and cover for you. Whatever you need."
Miguel:
It took Miguel a few seconds to comprehend what was happening - especially that the twins had decided that NOW was the best time to come. Mentally he ran through everything else that there was supposed to happen that night, assigning what could be done to various people on the staff. Did he like it? Not really, he had been looking forward to this night ever since things with Apple ended in his favor.
But at the same time, he was excited for the babies and finally getting to meet them that for once delegating wasn't as hard as it usually was for him.
"I can get people to cover for me, I can text them from the car. Plus Mari is here and she did enough with me when we were married that she'll make sure to keep everything going. But I think driving us would be the biggest help," Miguel nodded, squeezing Amber's hand.
Amber:
While Andre and Miguel figured out next steps, Amber was rushing through a moment of anxiousness. Were they ready for this? It didn't really matter, since the twins were already exercising their independence. Until now, in their mind, they still had another couple of days before the twins were to arrive, but now that it was just a bit sooner--and starting tonight of all nights--Amber had to speed up their preparedness.
With Miguel accepting Andre's offer to drive them to the hospital, Amber returned the squeeze to their hand and took another deep breath. They picked up their clutch and carefully raised to their feet, offering their husband a brief smile. "I guess these two wanted to see what all the fun tonight was about, huh?" Keeping their hand in Miguel's and staying at his side, they followed Andre through the venue with as convincing a look of calm as they could muster while they passed guests by.
When the cool outside air hit them however and Andre approached a valet attendant to get his car, Amber dropped the calm facade, shoulders drooping slightly while the pain of the contractions started to swell again, starting across their back and swiftly gripping across their front. Before the pain could become too unbearable, Amber said, "We don't have any of our stuff. Should we stop at home first?"
Miguel:
Miguel chuckled at Amber's words, though really he had to wonder if that had something to do with it. He knew that there were some things that had a tendency to set off labor, and Miguel wondered if excitement had anything to do with it. Though while he was curious, he figured that was something that he could look up after everything was over.
There were much more important things to think about.
As the contraction hit, Miguel squeezed Amber's hand, not really sure what they needed to get through it. Sofia had been induced, so everything there had a schedule, this was completely different and in the process Miguel found himself thinking probably a little too much. "I don't think so, we can have Sofia pick up our stuff later. Or Andre can pick it up after he drops us off at the hospital, he has a key."
Amber:
Hearing Miguel chuckle helped keep a light smile on Amber's face for a bit. They used thoughts about pleasant things like that--Miguel's laugh whenever he found something funny, Demetri's genuine excitement when he did well in school, the fun they and Sofia shared at their cooking class the other month--to try and help them through the growing return of labor pain while waiting for the valet.  Amber leaned a bit into Miguel, teeth pressed together as the contraction crescendoed. Their grip on Miguel's hand was tight and as they forced themself to exhale, a small groan escaped. "Hooooooooo...yeah, this is..." They couldn't think of a word to describe the feeling but about a minute after the contraction started, the pain was subsiding again, just in time as Andre's Range Rover was parked on the curb in front of them. Andre was quick to retrieve the keys and moved fast to set the car's navigation system for the hospital.
"It's a good thing I didn't drive the Corvette tonight," he commented lightheartedly, settling in the driver's seat and prepared to leave the moment Amber and Miguel were ready to go. Thankfully it looked like it wouldn't be a very long ride for the expecting couple. "Et oui, I can call Sofia and work out a plan to get your things to you as soon as possible."
Amber nodded while getting in the car, thankful to be sitting down again after getting the seat belt around their belly, they rested their head on Miguel's shoulder for the duration of the ride to the hospital, giving his hand a more tender squeeze than before. After gently reminding him, "Don't forget to text Meredith," Amber soon added, "I'm excited that we'll get to meet the twins tonight or tomorrow, but I'm sorry about your speech, hon. I know this was already a big night for you."
Miguel:
Miguel tried not to wince with how hard that Amber was squeezing his hand, because no matter how hard this hurt whatever Amber was feeling was probably worse.
"Thanks, I would appreciate that. Sofia's still inside too, so she might figure out something's going on before you get ahold of her," Miguel warned, as he sat in the car next to Amber.
"Right, thank you," Miguel said, pulling out his phone as he sent a text to Meri as well as everyone else he figured that he should let know, "I'm excited to meet them too, and don't worry about it. I'm glad that we're going to meet the twins too. So it's still going to be a big night."
Amber:
Andre nodded, peeling away from the curb and heading straight for the hospital. “We will handle it. You two focus on your little ones."
During the ride, Amber focused on breathing as steadily as possible. Only one other contraction hit during the trip to the hospital but this time, they tried not to squeeze the life out of Miguel's hand, opting instead to ball their fingers into a tight fist, nails digging firmly into their palms.
Just as Andre pulled up to the entrance, the pain faded again. Amber thanked Andre repeatedly for his help and then scooted out of the back seat with Miguel so they could get checked in at the Labor and Delivery ward.
Some time later, the two were brought to a delivery room where Amber was given a gown to change into; they were hooked up to an IV and monitors while Miguel was given paperwork to fill out. They were checked on for their progress and then given some privacy before the next round of being checked in on. Now laying in a mostly reclined hospital bed with ambient music playing low in the room, Amber spoke to their husband in between the pain and spikes in discomfort. "Can you do me a favor? If any of the nurses tries to ask me something during a contraction like nurse whatsherface kept doing, can you tell them to kindly put a sock in it until I can actually answer them?"
Miguel:
Getting to the hospital had been a big help for Miguel. He had calmed down on the car ride, and everything else once they got to the hospital had been things he had prepared for.
So his primary focus was Amber and making sure that they had everything they needed to be comfortable. He chuckled at their words, especially when he had noticed the nurse doing that. "Gladly, I'm not quite sure how she didn't notice what she was doing," he commented, "Do you need anything else? Water? Ice chips? Pudding that I am considering stealing?"
Amber:
Although Amber knew that labor wasn't going to be easy, knowing and experiencing it were entirely different, as she was discovering. She was nearly dilated enough for the epidural but not quite when they arrived, and she'd hoped that it would progress for her to get it soon. About an hour after their arrival, Andre had returned with the bag she and Miguel packed for this very occasion, and after briefly checking in on the couple once more, he headed out with a promise to return if they needed anything else.
Deeply thankful that she wasn't going through this experience entirely alone, she nodded at Miguel's words and only briefly thought over his question before saying, "Ice chips sound nice. But steal the pudding too." Another contraction started soon after she answered him, and to avoid squeezing Miguel's hand, Amber made very focused efforts to clench her fists and spread her fingers back and forth through the pain. She tried to remember to breathe but found herself holding her breath often instead.
Miguel:
Miguel nodded as he helped Amber through the contraction - only for the nurse to come back in and start talking almost as if on cue. "Can you please stop talking for a moment," Miguel asked, using the voice that Sofia called his "CEO voice" that had the tendency to command attention. And as it expected it worked. "If you would pay attention, you'd be able to tell that Amber's in the middle of a contraction and they aren't really up for answering questions. So we would both appreciate it if you would wait until after it was over and they'd be more than happy to answer then."
It seemed to work, as Miguel turned back to his wife to coach Amber through the rest of the contraction. "Okay, I'm going to go get the ice and the pudding now while the nurse is in here," he said once things started to settle down.
Amber:
Though Amber had heard Miguel address the incoming nurse, Amber only partially heard his words as they worked through the contraction. Thankful though that the nurse heeded his words, Amber put their full focus back on breathing and repeatedly flexing their hands until the pain was more tolerable. They opened their eyes and left them open, looking to Miguel and nodding with gratitude in their gaze, "Okay," and gently squeezed his forearm before he departed from the room.
Not long after speaking with the nurse, the doctor came in and checked on Amber, delivering the news they had been waiting to hear ever since arriving; things had progressed enough for them to get the epidural. That process in itself was unpleasant but much to Amber's relief, once everything had been done and the anesthesia started to kick in, they were far more at ease for the long hours that followed.
As the night went on, Amber talked a bit to Miguel, imagining what features the twins might inherit. Eventually, they were overcome by sleep and managed to get a little more than a couple of hours of light rest collectively, on and off before night turned early morning. The doctor came to periodically check on them again after they were awake to see how far their labor progressed. Amber managed another nap of sorts, late in the morning but not long after they awoke again, their doctor returned once more.
A new wave of anxiousness washed over them, waking them right back up again however, when the doctor informed them and Miguel that, after roughly 14 hours of being in the hospital, Amber was fully dilated and  it was going to be time to start pushing soon. While the doctor spoke to the three nurses who had suddenly joined her in preparing for the delivery, Amber reached out for Miguel's hand, "Oh my god. This is it. This is.. it's about to happen," Amber said, their voice an uneven mix of excitement and obvious nervousness.
Miguel:
Miguel had always known that labor was a game of hurry up and wait. When Andre had come with their bags, he'd changed into a new set of clothes. And from there,  there wasn't much else to do. He supported Amber, he napped when they did, and overall he just tried to imagine what it was going to be like once the babies came.
It was true, he was a lot older than he was the first time around, but he had experience, and it really had come to realize how much he had wanted more kids than only Sofia. Sure, life decided to make him wait for two decades before he got the chance to actually get there, but it was well worth the wait.
He squeezed Amber's hand as the doctor told them that it was almost time to push.  "It is. You're going to do great," he stated, giving Amber a quick kiss on the head, "Just breathe with me, and squeeze my hand, and it'll all be fine," he assured them.
Amber:
Amber softly smiled to Miguel and gave a brief squeeze to his hand when he'd lovingly assured her. Nodding, Amber affirmed, "Okay. I've got this. We've got this," and set her mind to what she knew she would have to do from here. It didn't take long after that for the nurses to position Amber's feet out of the stirrups while Dr. Barlowe began coaching Amber, instructing her to bear down and push during contractions while she, the doctor, counted. Holding onto Miguel's hand while her other hand gripped the hospital bed's side rail, Amber dropped her chin to her chest, squeezed her eyes shut and, upon command from the doctor, began to push.
She very quickly lost count of how many times she had pushed or how much time had passed since the delivery started. Despite the doctor's encouragement and reassurance that she was doing a good job, Amber felt the anxiousness and excitement transforming into exhaust and frustration. Still being numbed from the epidural, she could only rely on those around her to know what was going on. Tears pricked at her eyes and blurred her vision as she pushed through yet another contraction. This time, however, relief and steady praise soon fell over the room as a small weight was placed on Amber's stomach and chest. She opened her eyes and saw one of the nurses quickly rubbing the back and clearing the mouth and nostrils of a tiny, dark-haired newborn.
"One down, one to go, Amber, good job! Take a minute and then we'll get you're other little one out here with her sister," she heard Dr. Barlowe say as Amber's  head fell back against the pillow behind her. Tears streamed freely but she quickly wiped them away and brought her free hand to their firstborn twin's back at the same time that tiny chipmunk-like trills passed through the newborn's pink, plump lips. "Oh my God, hiii," Amber quietly cooed. She squeezed Miguel's hand and watched as the nurse wrapped the little girl in a blanket and carried her off to a nearby  bassinet while Dr. Barlowe asked Miguel if he wanted to cut the umbilical cord. "We're gonna get her sister out here soon. It should be a lot easier this time around, Amber." to which Amber gave a sigh of relief, "Thank goodness," and wearily smiled, ready to take hold of Miguel's hand again and bring their next child into the world with some renewed energy filling her.
As Dr. Barlowe had said, the second go around had been an easier, or at least, shorter labor than the first time. Some eight minutes after the first baby had been born, her sister joined the world. Instead of the quiet little trills, however, she exercised her lungs, seemingly to their full capacity once her mouth and nose were cleared of fluids. "Congratulations Amber and Miguel," Dr. Barlowe said to both parents before inviting Miguel to cut the second umbilical cord over at the bassinet while she helped Amber through the afterbirth and cleaning up from the delivery.
Miguel:
There was nothing like the birth of a child - Miguel had thought that when Sofia was born and he thought the same thing now.  There was something miraculous about it, seeing life get to come into the world at the start. And now he got to see it twice over with their daughters.
And as the first of the two came, a giant smile came to his face as Miguel looked over her features.  He teared up a bit, blinking to not let the tears fall as he squeezed Amber's hand back, before going to cut the girl's umbilical cord.  He used the moment to stroke the girl's face, and really look over her features.
"She's beautiful," Miguel smiled as he walked back over to Amber's side, preparing to meet the second twin.  It was like everything happened all over again, though the second girl wanted to make her presence known to the world in a way that the man could already tell that she was going to have a huge personality. "You're going to be a problem, I can already tell," Miguel whispered to the girl, with a teasing smile before cutting the second cord.  He then took a picture to send to Sofia and Demetri, letting them know that the twins were there.  "You did great," Miguel smiled at Amber, once the picture sent.
Amber:
Both girls were here. Amber was filled to the brim with a myriad of thoughts and emotions. As Dr. Barlowe and one of the nurses finished tending to the afterbirth and cleanup, Amber wiped their eyes and thanked everyone in the room who helped bring the twins into the world. Their eyes then moved back and forth between the two bassinets, briefly catching the tender moment between Miguel and their youngest; a soft smile came to Amber's face at the sight.
When Miguel came back to Amber's side, they reached and squeezed his forearm with tender pressure. "Thanks, hon," and then looked back over as both girls were now crying, though the second was still noticeably louder than her older sister. The nurses were getting their measurements and finishing their initial exam before the girls could be given to their parents for skin-to-skin bonding. In what felt like an eternity later, the room was being cleared of the nurses while Dr. Barlowe carried one twin over to Amber first, and then the youngest twin to Miguel.
"The girls look healthy and are at a healthy weight for twins. We'll give you guys some time in here to bond, and then a couple of the nurses will move you and the twins up to a recovery room where you'll stay until you're discharged. Those rooms are smaller but there's more amenities in them. One of the pediatricians will come there to check on the girls periodically, to make sure they are both ready to be discharged when the time comes. Congratulations again, both of you."
With one of the twin's tiny cheeks resting against a bare space beneath Amber's chin, they softly replied, "Thank you so much, Zoie. I really can't say that enough." They smiled while giving feather light strokes of their fingertips to the the newborn's back, and then, not long after the four were alone, Amber turned carefully their head in Miguel's direction, keeping their voice low for the girls' sake while smiling to their husband, "You know, we have to figure out who's who here."
Miguel:
Miguel nodded at the nurse as he held the youngest girl close. It was surreal as he touched her, and watched Amber with the other baby. They were here, and they were perfect, and it was exactly what Miguel had been hoping for. "You know we could name #1 Isobel and #2 Jessamine just to keep it in alphabetical order," he commented, rocking the crying girl, "It seems kind of like the logical way to go about it."
Amber:
Amber gave a playful roll of her eyes at her husband, still smiling through his answer. "Leave it to you to go the logical route with naming our kids." She softly chuckled and continued to gently stroke their eldest twin's back. After mulling over his answer, she said, "But it beats calling them Baby A and Baby B." Shifting the position of the baby in her arms, she was able to tilt her chin down a bit and then said, "So I guess that means I've got you in my arms, Isobel," and smiled right up through softly kissing the top of her dark-haired crown. "Happy birthday, Isobel," she whispered.
Miguel:
"Well, I've always been logical," Miguel chuckled, kissing the top of Jessamine's head, "Though I have to say I'm pretty sure it was little miss Jessamine who decided to interrupt my speech earlier. It seems like something that would be her idea."
Amber:
With a small hum, Amber noted, "You have a creative side too. I'd say that both come with the territory of being at the head of a successful tech company." They watched Miguel and Jessamine and grinned again, giggling a bit at Miguel's assertion, "Probably, given how much she wanted to be heard when she was born. Maybe she was hoping to give her daddy a few pointers." While keeping as much skin-to-skin with Isobel, Amber had their eyes on their husband and youngest, adding a, "Happy birthday, Jessamine," in before saying, "I can't believe they're here now. They're both just the tiniest babies I've ever seen."
About an hour after they were given some skin-to-skin time, the nurses came in, preparing to transport the family the floor above to recovery. Isobel and Jessamine were swaddled and placed back in their individual bassinets, each baby being wheeled out by a nurse while a third nurse maneuvered Amber's hospital bed behind the twins to an elevator.  The room they were taken to wasn't too far from the elevator, and after hooking Amber back to the monitors in the new room and making sure the family was settled and shown where to find everything in the room, in the nurses cleared out yet again to give the newly grown family some privacy for the time being.
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crqstalite · 3 years
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You've been visited by the random writing prompts goblin!! - Write about your character just... talking. Are they talking to themselves, or with someone else? What kind of slang or phrases do they use often? Do they have an accent?
I really should quit writing these one-on-one scenes with Kodelyn and Lali (and maybe y’know, with their actual partners) but I couldn’t get the prompt out of my head! I love them too much and Citlali’s POV is one of my favorites to write -- she goes off on a lot of tangents and I find it more funny and entertaining that anything. Way different than I write Kodelyn’s. Probably should do more shippy writing at some point, but some point is not now.
Post-war. Word count: 2,008. no warnings.
-
“Y’know, she even said she might even put a good word in for me,” Citlali leans back in her chair, grinning around her straw, “Might be a real flight lieutenant, give or take like a decade. No more stowaway-ing for me.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Yeah. Dealing with ships is more my speed than people. Biotic regiment sounds too...I don’t know, challenging? Out there? For little old me.” The younger woman sighs, throwing a hand over her forehead dramatically, “Plus I’d have to work with our dear Major Alenko of all people. As if I don’t see enough of him now, he’d be my actual CO this time around.”
“Yep.”
“Still, that’s years out when the galaxy gets it’s head back on straight. Think they’re just absurdly shortstaffed right now. Not even sure whether this is a good idea or not, I mean, I spent half my life afraid of what I could do and now? Supernova. Might as well make good use of this.” She snaps her fingers, “Like lighting...something on fire. Damn it, lost the analogy that quickly.”
“That’s great.”
Citlali straightens in her chair again, looking around the atrium and shaking her cup, ice rattling inside of the plastic. The Citadel was rebuilding, after nearly a year and a half after the war had ended, and a few wards were getting back to the idea of normal. If one went wandering, one could probably still see the scars and missing shops, homes and even nearly half a ward on the other side. Yet, here they were, at a little fast food place, still very much alive and thriving.
Suck on that, Reapers. Shepard 3, Reapers 0.
The energy in the food court is different from where it had been before the Citadel had been moved to Sol. Less nervous energy to burn, less fatalistic views being preached from every corner of the Presidium. Life was getting back to good. Summer was right around the corner on Earth at least. Less death and mass murder at the hands of the Reaper putting a dampener on dinner.
She squints at her sister. Kodelyn Shepard, entirely off duty, was still in something that made Citlali think she was going to spar with James. Offhandedly she wonders if she would ever take her up on that offer to get a full wardrobe beyond the one or two shirts, jeans and boots she owned. Considering she rarely saw Kaidan out of anything similar, she’d have to do something about that soon.
She’d always looked nice in yellow.
However, said Shepard has a smile just gently tugging at the corners of her mouth while one hand flies over her omni-tool’s keyboard, not a glance up to where Citlali is.
She’s not paying attention. Probably hasn’t been since she started talking nearly five minutes ago. Her offhanded responses have gotten better though, Kodelyn almost had her fooled that she was carrying on a two-way conversation. Probably should’ve gotten suspicious when she didn’t actually offer anything to the conversation. Or when she opened the omni-tool to begin with. Multi-tasking had always been a skill that she had, not so much one that Citlali did.
“Anything good?” Citlali reaches over the table to gently (alright, she’ll admit it wasn’t all that gentle) pull at her sister’s wrist. A quick glance at the ID tells her all she needed to as she slumps back in the chair, “Damn, speak of the devil! You haven’t been listening to a single thing I’ve said have you?”
“Hey!” Kodelyn yanks her hand back, swiping at the screen a few times, “I have been listening.” She retorts indignantly.
“Have you?” Citlali raises an eyebrow. She hasn’t been, but knowing her sister, she’s good enough at halfway paying attention to reconstruct what she’s said well enough that she wouldn’t be able to accuse her otherwise.
Damn her. Sound doesn’t turn to soup whenever multiple conversations are going on around her. Lucky.
“Yes! I have.”
“Uh huh,” Citlali gnaws at the straw, wickedly grinning when she returns to typing, “Anything dirty?”
“No!” Kodelyn yelps, closing the UI, and dropping her face into her hands as Citlali cackles at her own jab, “Would you give it a rest?”
“I would, if he didn’t take over every waking thought of yours.” Citlali playfully presses a finger into her vulnerable forehead, “Fi-an-ce, brother-in-law-to-be or otherwise, you could at least spare your maid of honor and baby sister twenty minutes of your undivided attention.”
Kodelyn softly smiles. She’s at least genuinely apologetic, leaning back into her own chair with her hands out in front of her, “I know. And I’m sorry, just...”
“I know. He’s important. This whole shing-ding you have planned for the dead of summer is important. Actually, why the middle of July? Do you know how sticky July is? How humid it is to my poor hair? And yours?” Citlali gets a bit carried away (well that was on Kodelyn, July was the month of the devil. But then again she’d never been to Vancouver in July...and she was getting carried away again), “But have you spent a single second today not on that thing?”
“You know, I don’t just use it to talk to Kaidan. There is spectre business to attend to as well. Just because the war ended didn’t mean that work did.”
“Really? You had me fooled, thought he was the only contact in there,” Citlali snickers as Kodelyn rolls her eyes, “I get it, you’re still important and you’re still really busy. I respect that. Just sometimes I just want to know what’s going on with you without having to hear it secondhand, or on my ‘tool.”
“As if you haven’t been equally quiet the last few months.”
“I haven’t! I even sent the RSVP note back. In pen. That’s how much it meant to me.”
“That was your writing? Thought Mason got ahold of it. Kaidan and I could barely tell who it was from.”
“Ok, glad we can agree our baby brother writes like a chicken, but my handwriting is not that bad!” Kodelyn snickers as Citlali pops the cap off her cup, rattling around the ice at the bottom of the cup. Pink liquid still hangs onto the cubes, which meant the last of the juice was still hiding from her. She sucks on the straw anyway, “We have all the time in the galaxy now and we still just keep missing each other. Twice you were presumed or actually dead -- three if you want to count the original battle of the Citadel, and sometimes it still doesn’t feel real that you’re sitting across from me, very much alive and kicking. Three times I had to come to terms with the fact you might actually be gone.”
Kodelyn’s expression softens at her admission, “Is that why you keep trying to invite me out to ‘girl’s nights?’ Because you just want to make sure I’m still here?”
“No that’s mostly mom, you really have to start answering those. Occasionally Tali whenever she’s here, she’s asks after you, y’know. Liara and I hang out sometimes. Not as much fun, she’s as quiet as you sometimes and I’m not an archeologist. Or information broker. Or Asari. Not much we can talk about that isn’t confidential or something way out of my realm of understanding -- not like she wants to talk about the newest extranet series either.” Citlali remarks. She did genuinely like Liara, even if their interests were on opposite sides of the galaxy. Maybe she should bother the Asari a bit more before she took off again into the unknown, wherever said unknown was. What did a Shadow Broker do all day?
Beyond the point though, “Look, I won’t get sappy, but the piece of your pie chart that’s dedicated to me means a lot. It’s good when I don’t nearly get a heart attack every time you’re on the news.”
“If it was that serious-”
“-And it’s not.”
“If it is,” Kodelyn continues, “I’ll always be here. Just a call away.”
“I had to schedule this a week in advance, Dee.” Citlali gestures with her pretty much empty cup, though backs down a moment later, “Maybe I’m being a bit ridiculous, but I can count on one hand how many just...days like this we’ve spent together since the war ended. I mean, you could probably count everyday I was in your hospital room, but those are technically invalid since you weren’t conscious for most of them.”
“You know better than anyone that I’ve been pulled in thirteen different directions at once, not all of them as fun as you make them out to be. And yeah, you’re right, maybe I haven’t been making as much of an effort as I could be to spend some 1-on-1 time with you.” Kodelyn taps her nails on the table, thinking while the conversation lulls, “You still mean everything to me Lali. I’ll be better, just give me some time to figure all of this out, okay?”
Time, all they had was time these days. And yet it felt like she’d blinked, the war happened, and she was sitting in a hospital waiting room for hours on end. Blinked again, and she found herself back in her own apartment, her own bed, her semi-old life. Startling, almost like none had passed at all between when she’d picked up that call from Miranda to now. And yet, now it didn’t feel like she was wasting any of it by pulling her sister away to do something silly or inane. Death was no longer rapping at their door with increasing ferocity, almost like a much too determined salesman. Felt like they’d managed to crucible it across the front lawn and send it scrambling.
“Yeah, of course. Just...for the record.” She shrugs. The cup is finally empty, making an ugly noise when she sucks on the straw, instead still gnawing on it, “All we have is time these days. And I’m not being sarcastic, we honestly do. We’ll see the passing of another century given something else doesn’t try to annihilate the galaxy.”
“Yeah, if they could wait until after the next Council summit as well as after the wedding, that’d be great.” Her sister says, flickering open her UI again, “I spent way too much time helping planning both of those to have them ransacked by the next Harbinger.”
“Oh yes!” Citlali grins, “Councilor Shepard-Alenko, that’ll be the day. Yes ‘Reapers’, we have dismissed that claim already.”
“I still haven’t accepted,” Kodelyn laughs, turning her wrist to show Citlali something, “And I might not, I’ll recommend Petrakis but that’s as far as I’m going to help them find a proper representative. I’m not really Councilor material, and Kaidan’s had to remind me I can’t exactly hang up on them if they’re standing right next to me.”
“Really? Finally time to kick back and settle down with you, huh? Nice little place in Vancouver? Here? Part of me is going to be surprised if I see you in anything other than a t-shirt and jeans.”
“Probably not forever, but there is a piece of my pie chart dedicated to not driving myself up the wall anymore,” She gently presses her finger into Citlali’s forehead, making her chuckle, “Not such a bad thing. And I wore that spring dress you bought for me last month.”
“The day you step back from all this,” Citlali waves her arms around them, “Is the day I eat my hat.”
“I’m capable of more than just all this.” Kodelyn gestures similarly, “It’ll be nice to step back and enjoy what we saved. Preferably not from a war room anymore.”
“Never thought I’d peel you out of one,” Citlali says, “Mrs. Kaidan Alenko.”
“You have to get tired of saying that at some point.” Kodelyn’s partially right, though it amuses her. Sort of sweet at times.
“Will I? I don’t think so.”
“Really?” Kodelyn raises an eyebrow, “So how soon can I call you Mrs. Jeff Moreau?”
“New topic!”
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needtherapy · 3 years
Text
open always petal by petal (ch 3)
Song Lan knows his only passenger, Cao Huan, is more secrets than truths, but he's still the best passenger Song Lan has ever had: paid up front, self-sufficient, and silent.
It shouldn't matter that Cao Huan plays the guqin like his heart is broken.
It shouldn't matter that his smiles light up the darkest corners of Fuxue's passageways.
It shouldn't matter that he makes Song Lan curious, curious in a way he hasn't felt in years.
It's just an ordinary transport, a regular fare, a mostly-honest way to make a living. All they have to do is get from Sichuan Station to Caiyi Port. The galaxy may be a dangerous place, but Song Lan is very good at his job, and this should be an easy two-week trip.
The rest doesn't matter. It doesn't.
READ ON AO3
Notes: Rated E for Explicit. Title from e.e. cummings' poem "somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond". Thanks to @cirilien​, @coslyons​, @treemaidengeek​ and tucuxi (AO3) for the beta reads!
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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
⋆ Days 10-14 ⋆
Fuxue is healed by morning, right on time, and for once, Song Lan isn’t particularly anxious to leave. He considers asking Cao Huan if he wants to stay another night, but he knows he’ll just ask again and again, and they have to go back to their own lives. The longer they wait, the harder it will be.
Qingyang joins them just as Song Lan is loading the last of his supplies, and he notices she stops Cao Huan to talk to him. They’re too far away to hear, even too far away to lip read, but eventually, Cao Huan bows to Qingyang. That isn’t a surprise. She’s the chief, after all.
The shock is that Qingyang bows back, low and respectful. It occurs to Song Lan that perhaps there was another reason Cao Huan didn’t want to come to Rogue Sky.
“Captain? Song Lan?” Cao Huan says his name with something like affection. “Are we ready to fly?”
Song Lan nods, startled when Cao Huan takes his hand and rubs the knuckles. “Fly us away, Captain,” he says with that sideways, quirking smile, and Song Lan forgets about the earlier twinge of jealousy.
The days flow through him like a dream, and Song Lan fights to hold onto reality. He’s not sure he’s succeeding.
Song Lan reminds himself that he has duties—even when there aren’t other passengers—to run diagnostics, flush coolant, service the deflector array, scan the sector for danger and distress. But Cao Huan seems to enjoy helping, and it never takes him long to catch on to a task. Plus, Song Lan likes the scent of his hair when he leans over to watch him work.
He reminds himself that he is a ship’s captain, they’ve already run into pirates once, and they’re traveling through Jin space, always more dangerous than it should be. But Cao Huan talks him into filling the bathtub. It’s hard to regret when he sees the man sitting in the water, his long hair slicked back, a wicked grin on his face. It’s even harder to resist the lure of warmth and Cao Huan settling against him, closing his eyes and sighing.
He reminds himself that the last time he couldn’t take his eyes off of someone, the last time he walked through his days in a haze, the last time he felt so reckless, it didn’t end well. But a quiet voice reminds him of all the happiness he had first, and asks him when he became so afraid of losing that he wasn't even willing to try.
Nothing terrible happens.
For five days, they take care of Fuxue, knit, meditate, drink tea, stare out of the windows into the darkness, and have more sex than Song Lan thought was actually humanly possible. If Cao Huan has been alone for three years, he’s making up for it now, like stockpiling for a cold winter.
And once Song Lan has that thought, he knows it’s true. Because he’s going to leave, he tells himself.
Because it doesn’t mean anything.
Because this is only temporary.
Because it’s only a way to pass the time.
If he says it enough, Song Lan hopes eventually he’ll believe it. Eventually it’ll be true.
The best moments—the hardest moments—are the times Cao Huan curls next to him and tells him who he is or who he was. He is careful with his words, and Song Lan is careful not to pry, but each detail seems like a precious gift.
I was sixteen the first time I fell in love, and I loved him until he died. I may have avenged him, but he is gone anyway.
It is terrible to admit, but I miss the trees of home the most, the way they rustle and whisper. I always liked to imagine they were speaking with my mother’s voice.
My family believes it is a reward to return home, but it feels like the spectre of a waiting tomb.
I thought I knew who I was and the path I was on. I was wrong, and I don’t know how to find my feet again.
His words break Song Lan’s heart daily, which, he suspects, is good practice for later.
Sometimes he tells Cao Huan about Xingchen: his unrelenting kindness, his penchant for collecting rocks on planets they visited, his friendly smile that made everyone fall a little in love with him. He takes down the sword and tells Cao Huan how Xingchen looked holding it, fierce one moment, breaking into helpless giggles the next. Sometimes the stories make Cao Huan laugh, and occasionally, even though Song Lan is never sure why, they bring tears to Cao Huan’s eyes.
And even though he’s never told anyone, part of him wants to say the unspeakable things too. Like how Xingchen looked when he realized they’d been betrayed by a man they considered a friend. Or the last time Song Lan saw him, eyes bleeding and an apology on his lips. Or how furious Song Lan was—still is, if he’s honest—to be rendered mute and unable to forgive Xingchen before they were shot by Xiandu’s assassin and left to die.
But it feels like a betrayal to talk about Xingchen’s one mistake, bringing aboard the man that cost them everything, and anyway, Song Lan doesn’t want to burden Cao Huan with this memory too, not when he is still grappling with terrible memories of his own.
They are two days from Caiyi Port when the ship stops them.
[Captain, Gusu Lan would like a word.]
Song Lan and Cao Huan are drinking tea when Fuxue alerts them, and Cao Huan drops his cup, splashing hot tea on his dark pants. He curses colorfully—Song Lan grins; he’s full of surprises as always—and shoots Song Lan an apologetic look.
“I will change and clean up tea,” he says and hurries away.
Song Lan heads to the bridge. He could answer the summons from the kitchen, but he wants to see which Gusu Lan ship it is.
To his surprise, it’s not one of the Gusu Goldlighter vessels he knows, nor one of the ordinary Cloud Recesses transport ships. It’s Shuoyue, the Lan flagship.
It must be Lan Qiren, Song Lan thinks, but Lan Qiren never leaves Gusu, not since he took over leadership of Lan Nanotech three years ago. Song Lan hadn’t bothered paying much attention to Gusu back then, or, honestly, since. The only thing on the small planet is Cloud Recesses, home of the Lan engineering school and nano industry. The Lans have their own transport fleet, and Song Lan can’t afford their tech, so he rarely goes to that part of the sector. All he knows is that the former leader of the Gusu Lan faction had gone on hiatus and Lan Qiren is, if anything, more reclusive.
Song Lan snaps on the comm and answers the hail.
[This is Captain Song Lan of the unaffiliated vessel Fuxue. How can I help Gusu Lan?]
He hears Cao Huan behind him, hovering in the doorway. He doesn’t take a seat in the co-pilot’s chair, which is puzzling. He’s never hesitated before.
[Captain Song, you are in Gusu Lan space without authorization. What is your business here?]
Song Lan is surprised. Gusu Lan is a bit of a contradiction, aggressively protective of their planet, but usually blasé about their corner of the galaxy, and he frowns. What are they really asking?
[I’m running transport to Caiyi,] he answers, a common enough occurrence.
Cao Huan steps forward, catching Song Lan’s attention, “Don’t get too close,” he signs with a warning frown.
He looks worried, and Song Lan wonders if he’s run afoul of Gusu Lan in the past. They’re notoriously particular about planetary laws, and since Cao Huan does seem to be some kind of engineer, it would make sense that he’d studied at Cloud Recesses.
Song Lan had no intention of getting within firing range of the flagship. The Lans might be known pacifists, but even pacifists can be pushed too far.
“I won’t,” he signs back. “I know what I’m doing.”
[Identify your cargo and passengers,] the flagship demands, and Song Lan sends them the manifest.
[Just carrying five tons of pepper from Sichuan,] he answers, the only thing in his cargo hold. It’s a fraction of Fuxue’s maximum capacity, but even without Cao Huan’s transport, Sichuan pepper is worth its weight in gold and would have been worth the trip.
The XO sounds amused when she responds. [Thank you for your cooperation, Captain Song. And thank you for your service, commander. Fly safe. Caiyi will be glad to see you.]
The transmission ends, and Song Lan looks at Cao Huan, whose face is blank.
“You did not register my transport?” he asks, and Song Lan shakes his head.
“You said you wanted to remain anonymous, and…” Song Lan flushes, embarrassed to admit the full reason. “You looked like you needed the peace.”
Cao Huan stares at him for another moment before he strides over, only three steps across the cramped bridge, and tips Song Lan’s head back to kiss him, hard and biting, a different kind of intensity than usual. Song Lan matches him, opening his mouth, giving Cao Huan whatever it is he needs to take.
“Here,” Cao Huan demands, hungry and breathless. “Now.”
And Song Lan gives him that too, bending him over the console and plunging into him, wrapping a hand in his hair when Cao Huan begs him for more, biting his shoulder when he hisses harder, holding him on his lap afterward and rubbing his back when he can’t stop the tears.
“Is it so awful?” Song Lan signs, the closest he’s come to asking what Cao Huan is running from or headed toward.
Cao Huan doesn’t answer for so long, Song Lan thinks he’s not going to, but finally he feels the smallest shake of his head.
“No,” he says, and then immediately, softer, “yes.”
Song Lan doesn’t ask why. He’s already overstepped.
“I’m sorry,” he says out loud, smoothing a hand through Cao Huan’s hair. It doesn’t come out quite right—his partial tongue can’t form every sound, but Cao Huan doesn’t seem to care. He just tucks himself deeper into Song Lan’s embrace.
Song Lan realizes that whatever he’d thought he’d feel, however much distance he’d thought he could keep between them, he’d been wrong, so wrong, so unbelievably wrong. But acknowledging his feelings doesn’t change anything. Cao Huan is still going to Caiyi. Song Lan will still fly away to another station, another planet. The only difference is the size of the empty space Cao Huan will leave behind.
They stay like that, huddled together, until the flagship is far enough away to be a memory.
⋆ Day 16 ⋆
After the encounter with Shuoyue, Cao Huan seems to withdraw. He still smiles, but they don’t reach his eyes. He still laughs, but the sound is a vacant echo. They still have sex, but it feels like goodbye. It is goodbye.
Song Lan wakes up alone the last morning. He dresses slowly, no more eager to reach Caiyi than Cao Huan anymore. He doesn’t interrupt Cao Huan when he finds him on the bridge, just watches his hands talk to Fuxue.
I’m sorry.
I’ll miss you.
Yes, I’ll miss him too.
I have no choice.
Song Lan only has a moment to wonder how Fuxue is talking to him before Cao Huan turns around, eyes red with unshed tears.
“Would you take me somewhere else if I asked?”
The words break over Song Lan like the surf on the sea, and he can’t immediately answer.
Cao Huan steps toward him, touching his face, eyes searching his expression, and tries to ask again. “Would you…”
The words trail off, and Song Lan wraps him in a crushing kiss. He knows, he knows what Cao Huan is asking. Not for just a ride. Song Lan asks himself if he is willing to walk away from his life, to hide this man he loves from everything he fears until he can face the world again.
Yes.
Undeniably yes.
It’s always been his weakness, he knows, this desire to hold and protect. But he also thinks it’s always been worth it. Eight years with Xingchen was worth it. Whatever time he has with Cao Huan is worth it.
Cao Huan unexpectedly sags in Song Lan’s arms. “It is too late,” he says against his throat, the words quivering like an arrow through both of them. “But thank you. I will not forget.”
[Captain, we’re being hailed,] Fuxue informs them.
“I can ignore it,” Song Lan signs in a rush, taking a risk. “We can run.”
Cao Huan sits in the co-pilot’s chair and shakes his head. “He will be able to follow.”
Song Lan takes another risk, a greater one. “If you ask your brother, he will let you go.“
He knows the ship, recognized the call sign on the monitors. Bichen. The Joint Senate Chairman’s ship, flown by the men who saved his life five years ago. He should have expected this, honestly. After Shuoyue, he should have realized Lan Wangji would come for his brother.
Lan Huan, known as Xichen, titled Zewu-jun, looks at Song Lan, face tightening into a blank mask, as fathomless as jade. He doesn’t argue, and he doesn’t ask how long Song Lan has known. “He might. I can not ask him to. I have to face this eventually.”
Song Lan exhales, defeated. Numb ice spreads through his fingers as he snaps on the neural comm and replies.
[This is Captain Song Lan. The channel is open.]
[Xiongzhang.]
The one word closes Ca...Lan Huan’s eyes. Tears spill from the corners, and Song Lan aches to wipe them away.
He doesn’t answer, but there is a faint blue glow from under his skin, around his hairline. The implant, Song Lan realizes. It must connect them. That’s why he knew Lan Wangji would be able to follow.
Lan Huan shoots him a quick look and switches from the silent discussion he seems to be having with his brother to a verbal one.
[Wangji, of course I am ready to go back to Cloud Recesses with you. Please reward Captain Song when we meet you on Caiyi. He...he has saved my life.]
They land in one of the station’s small shuttle bays—alone, for once. Evidently Lan Wangji wanted to greet his brother in private.
Before they disembark, Lan Huan clutches Song Lan’s coat sleeve. “I should have told you from the beginning. I am so sorry.”
Song Lan caresses his cheek and kisses him gently. “You owe me no apologies.”
He doesn’t say, I would have fallen in love with you either way.
The lights of the shuttle bay are too bright, and Song Lan has to blink to get used to them. By the time he can focus again, two men are striding toward him, one energetic and cheerful, the other calm and graceful, almost like a mirage, almost like deja vu.
“Song Lan! Man, are we glad to see you! You know you’re two days late? The Lans have been scouring the whole damn galaxy looking for you!” Wei Wuxian calls out as he approaches on light, bouncing feet. “Shugong is going to be so mad when realizes you sneaked by him.”
Song Lan shrugs unapologetically. Ca...Lan Huan is still behind him, still reluctant.
“I did tell shufu that you would be safe with Captain Song,” Lan Wangji adds, looking at his brother, but not approaching him. “But...he was concerned. We all were. There might still be people who do not wish for you to take your place at the head of Lan Nanotech again.”
Even though Lan Wangji is clearly not talking to Song Lan, he answers anyway, buying Lan Huan a few more seconds.
[We had trouble with pirates. Rogue Sky patched us up. I saw your hydroponics, Wei Wuxian,] he says with a pasted-on smile.
“What the fuck? You stopped to visit MianMian? And she didn’t let us know?” Wei Wuxian acts affronted, although Song Lan assumes he’s joking.
The Lan brothers seem to have slipped into another silent conversation.
“Zewu-jun asked her not to,” Lan Wangji says softly, and Wei Wuxian hmphs.
“No loyalty in the galaxy. You save a girl’s life, and she forgets to tell you your brother-in-law is alive.”
“Xiongzhang,” Lan Wangji interrupts Wei Wuxian’s ranting. “I have missed you.”
It takes a second, but finally, Lan Huan sighs, quietly, but enough that Song Lan hears the capitulation in it.
Lan Wangji, Hanguang-jun, chairman of the Joint Senate, hugs his brother like he thought he’d never see him again. It’s strange, Song Lan thinks, looking at how similar they are, that he could know one brother and take so long to recognize the other. Or maybe it’s that he didn’t want to know until he absolutely couldn’t avoid it any more. After all, what kind of future could there be for an unaffiliated pilot and the leader of the Gusu Lan faction?
None.
This is it, Song Lan thinks. He will go back to his family, to his life, as you always knew he would.
[I have cargo to unload, and as you said, I’m two days behind. If you don’t mind…] he says, already starting to walk away, needing to turn his back so they can’t see his face.
“Song Lan, you should at least let me upgrade your tech before you go. I have an in with Lan Nanotech,” Wei Wuxian calls after him.
Song Lan waves without turning around. [Maybe I’ll let you poke my brain next time.]
He makes it all the way to the cargo hold before the tears fall.
Strangely, he wishes he could talk to Xingchen, but he knows what Xingchen would say. Xingchen who met Song Lan the day he left his home on the mountain, followed him onto Fuxue, and never left. Xingchen would tell him to jump first and think later.
Station aides help him unload the pepper, and it takes less time than he expects to check all of Fuxue’s systems and resupply. He wants to leave before his feet grow roots and he can’t.
Lan Huan is waiting for him on the bridge. Song Lan’s heart tries to leap wildly from his chest until he registers the emptiness on Lan Huan’s face, and he almost gives in to the inevitable.
No, he decides. No. For once, he’s going to be Xingchen, headstrong and impulsive.
“Come with me,” he signs, and lets Lan Huan see him, all of him, all of what he wants. He knows the answer, but he has to at least try.
Lan Huan closes his eyes, and Song Lan wonders if that makes it easier to say no, but they snap back open, and he clenches his jaw stubbornly, facing this head on. Song Lan is oddly proud of him, even as his hopes shatter.
“I want to. In another life, I would. But I have a duty to Gusu Lan and you belong to the sky. Neither of us has any choices.”
“You’re wrong,” Song Lan signs with a frown. “We make the future. We make our own futures. If you ask me to stay, I will.”
“Lan-er,” Lan Huan whispers, but Song Lan can’t stop.
“You’ve lost enough to know...I’ve lost enough to know...when you have a chance for happiness, take it.”
Lan Huan shakes his head. “I can not ask you to share my… Song Lan, please don’t ask me to take your freedom, too.”
He looks shattered already, and Song Lan gives up. He doesn’t want to be one of the things that hurts Lan Huan.
“I’ll wait until you’re ready,” he signs, brushes trembling, needy fingers over Lan Huan’s forehead, tracing the curl of his ear before he finishes. “However long I have to.”
And then he lets Lan Huan go, turning his back, listening to the echo of his retreating footsteps dissipate into silence.
⋆ Days 17-197 ⋆
Life goes on.
And on.
And on.
He goes back to Rogue Sky first. This time, he’s the one who needs to be repaired. Qingyang takes one look at his face and frowns.
“Oh,” she says, and he almost laughs at all the things contained within a single word.
Oh, you loved him.
Oh, you love him still.
Oh, it didn’t work out.
She doesn’t ask any questions—she’s loved and lost too—just hands him the other half of a bottle of whiskey. They sit in the gardens, and he tells her all about it anyway.
Surprisingly, he feels better in the morning, even if his head has never felt worse. There’s someone who knows. Someone who understands. Someone to share the sadness with. Friendship has been waiting for him here the whole time, all he had to do was ask.
If nothing else, it was worth it for that.
Qingyang tells him some of what she knows of Lan Huan, who he was before the war and a little bit of who he was after. Song Lan reads the official reports of Xiandu’s death and understands the story between the lines. His heart breaks all over again for the agony of being both betrayer and betrayed. He wants to go back to Cloud Recesses so much, it’s sometimes a physical pain in his side.
Song Lan adds the Silk Run to his circuit, Yunmeng to Lanling, and it’s something different to do for a while. The fashion industry is demanding in an entirely new way, and he experiences the joys of designer meltdowns when the nanosilk they demand isn’t readily available, or the dye isn’t quite the right shade of violet, never mind that Song Lan is only the transporter, not the manufacturer. Also, he couldn’t care less.
It’s a surprise, one day, to get a transport request from Cloud Recesses to ferry the Lan ambassador to Emei, a Goldlighter commune. It’s not that he’s avoided Gusu Lan space, but as before, he hasn’t had a legitimate reason to go there either.
[Gusu Lan has a fleet,] he points out.
He can almost see the comm operator shrug. [I don’t question my orders, Captain Song. Transport is needed, and you were recommended. You don’t have to accept the commission.]
Song Lan does consider turning it down, but...life goes on, right?
He’s never actually been to Cloud Recesses and he is, frankly, in awe. It’s a fortress carved into a mountain, and he thinks Xingchen would have loved the white stone buildings, the snow at the top of the peak, and the waterfall that crashes through the center of the city. It’s one of the most beautiful places he’s ever seen.
The aerospace center is inexplicably nestled in a sprawling expanse of evergreen forest, and Song Lan understands why Lan Huan missed the towering trees.
“We couldn’t have competed with this,” he signs to Fuxue before he disembarks.
It’s even more beautiful outside. The sun is just the right touch of warmth on his cheeks, chirping birds dance in swooping patterns, and the air smells like sweet flowers and pine. It’s like a fairy tale that sinks painfully into the pit of his stomach. No, they can’t compete with this.
“Captain Song?”
Song Lan stops breathing.
He turns.
It’s not a delusion. Lan Huan is behind him. He’s wearing blue pants, a fitted white shirt, and a leather jacket. His still-long hair is pulled back into a ponytail and he’s holding a traveling bag. He looks radiant and more beautiful than Song Lan remembered, although he might be biased.
The corner of his mouth flickers at Song Lan’s inspection, like a smile trying to break through ice. “Captain, I have recently resigned from my employment, and I would...I would like to apply for a position on your crew.”
He takes a hesitant step toward Song Lan, who feels as light as the breeze blowing through the trees, afraid to move, afraid he’ll blow away and miss this perfect, glorious moment. It takes too long for his hands to react, to shape what he wants to say.
“Yes, I accept. You’re hired,” he answers, slashing the words as quickly as possible, before Lan Huan can change his mind.
Lan Huan’s smile cracks through fully this time, spreading slowly across his face, lighting his eyes. He takes a few more steps, all the steps he needs to bring him in front of Song Lan, and Song Lan finally moves, finally reaches out, finally pulls Lan Huan to him, kissing the smile he can still feel on his lips, kissing him until he can’t tell the difference between his breath and Lan Huan’s.
Lan Huan laughs, joyous and effervescent, snuggling against Song Lan’s chest. “Do you not need to hear my qualifications? I believe I would be an asset to your crew, Captain.”
Song Lan shakes his head. He doesn’t care, he doesn’t care about anything but the feel of Lan Huan in his arms, and answering would require letting go of him, but Lan Huan persists as though he has prepared a speech and is determined to deliver it. As though Song Lan would need convincing.
“I was a dreadnaught gunner in the war, although that was more than ten years ago. I speak...hmm...eleven or twelve languages. I’m good with tech,” Lan Huan adds, tapping his temple. “I’ve been told I make excellent tea.”
Song Lan can’t stop his fingers from caressing Lan Huan’s beloved face instead of forming words.
“And if nothing else,” Lan Huan says, leaning into Song Lan’s hands, “I wish to fly with you. I wish to see the galaxy with you.” Lan Huan brushes Song Lan’s cheek, smoothing away a tear Song Lan didn’t realize had fallen. “I wish to spend my life with you.”
Song Lan touches his forehead to Lan Huan’s, breathing in his scent, like the jasmine flowers on Rogue Sky, like the promise of spring, like a future that suddenly seems filled with vibrant colors again.
“It’s the only thing I need,” he signs. “You’re the only thing I need.”
Lan Huan takes his hand, threading his fingers through Song Lan’s as easily as if they’ve always been there and pulls him up the cargo bay ramp. Song Lan follows, laughing when Fuxue smugly greets the new XO.
“Captain Song, fly us away,” Lan Huan says with a brilliant smile, a peaceful smile Song Lan hasn’t seen before, and Song Lan kisses him again, because he can, because Lan Huan is here, because life goes on.
Life goes on, and so does love.
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countryshitposts · 4 years
Text
I Won’t Cry For You
Germany suffers alone.
Trigger Warnings: emotional, mental, and physical abuse, child abuse, vomiting, eating disorders, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt
"Frankreich please, I swear I really didn't hear it!" Germany reasons with his wife, his soft voice with reason has turned to a hysterical and almost-wail, but instead of convincing the woman in front of him it only gives him an uncomfortable glance and a shift of position, but her gaze becomes stern and firm, making Germany squirm a little.
"Allemagne, you were the only one left here in the office", France says in her 'mature and adult' voice; Italy would always try mimick it to make Germany feel better but now he wants to throw something - preferably soft - at her to distract her and run from this confrontation. "Surely you know what happened to why the safe is open and our money just vanished into thin air?"
Germany sputters a little; he tries to think of a good excuse to try and put himself in an innocent light - like he is - and stop Frankreich from tearing him apart piece by piece.
(He remembers all the eyes on him as he and his twin sister was revealed in this large crowd of cheering Germans, cheering for Reich and complimenting his 'children' and how East will hold his hand tighter when they are regarded as his. Ost had almost spoken out of a party, to answer a woman Third Reich, that cruel man, was not their father but West arrives in no time and ushers her into her bedroom to calm her down.
He wonders how she is doing behind the wall, seeing dozens of houses and buildings runny and downed. He stares at them for a moment, before moving on.)
"What, Allemagne, have nothing to say?" He hears her snicker and he shivers, remembering the cold room in the middle of the night with a gun on his fingers and Third Reich's laughs echoing in this closed room with absolutely no lights whatsoever. "I was right, and still am; you and your father are nothing but spineless cowards, only trying to stir trouble away from you but it doesn't and it comes back to bite you in the ass. Useless."
Germany's eyes widen, but he only keeps his eyes on the floor, lips trembling, tears threatening to spill out and screaming when they're not unleashed with a torrent, polished black shoes scratching the smooth and shiny floors with the light showing his thin, pathetic self.
(He hates the way his appearance was like- how it was all thin and delicate with no skin whatsoever and he'd try to change it but in the end he gets more and more hurt.)
But he cannot deny it; Frankreich is right of him. She is right, he is useless, he is nothing but another miserable soul in earth that was put there just to be another life form that sucks the air out of earth and waste it for his own gain. It is what Reich says; a spectre of useless things being thrown to the pages of the books being burned in the town square while others revel.
When France leaves, the tears in his eyes drop like rain; in tiny, unnoticeable small drops like a drizzle, before becoming more numerous and backing sheer amount of size as it becomes a waterfall in his face.
-
West silently walks his way into the building, ignoring the thrums of people he passes and they ignore him too, an invisible spec of light to behold. He opens the door to the office, and, much contradictory to the silent spell he is creating. He sits besides Italy, who was talking to Greece and not paying the slightest bit attention to him. Then again, he has always been invisible until he speaks, and that it when everyone would yelp and remember and regard that he was, in fact, there.
He opens his documents to observe the requirements of the day, pen full of ink as he starts to scribble the daily memoirs for the day. He tunes out for a little, not listening to the dramatics of everyone, the little hand waves everyone would do every so often but he does not pay attention to the slightest bit of movement or word.
That is, until, France ruins this moment of serenity.
"Allemagne was the only person in the building when the alleged crime scene happened", France says, and West's handwriting turns ugly for a bit before going back to its default style, his hands still shaking. "So, technically, that makes him our number one suspect."
He stops writing, as he feels everyone's eyes upon him, and he looks down at the ground, hating the confrontation happening, remembering the audience's eyes on he and Ost as Reich parades them in town, looking proud and almighty.
(Reich had beckoned him to sit with he and his allies, once. Reich asks West many a question to the point he could not keep up with all of them and stumbles on his words; Reich had called him an underdeveloped child and sends him on his way, but the pang was still there.
It always is.)
"Frankreich, listen to me-"
"You can't just fabricate another alibi, West; sooner or later you're going to lie yourself into a corner and be done with it."
"Es tut mir leid Frankreich aber-", he falters; he questions to why he is speaking in German, despite the fact that everyone here despises him and one time France had hit him when he spoke in his tongue. He reasons it is due to his nervousness and anxiety, his whole body shaking but he tries not to show it.
(It was a complete reverse to what went on in Reich's household.)
The beads of sweat were basically hugging his skin, making it all warmer as he fans himself with his suit, silently asking how it had grown warmer in the course of minutes.
France laughs. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue le crètin?"
His heart stops; he remembers the insults that Reich had hurled in his way, remembering the hands and raising of fists and the cold and dark room in which he and that tyrant were always locked in as he tries not to spill any tears and minimise the shaking of his body, blonde hair covering his eyes.
He stands up, feeling his stomach plead to him for them to release the half-digested remains he had eaten in breakfast; scrapes of food he had found on his cupboards as he struggles. Germany throws a hard look at France, and, without waiting for her reaction to this, immediately runs out of the door, nausea in his veins.
He runs, his feet still light and nimble on the floors, making small squeaking sounds but wad not loud enough to alert anyone of a nearby person. He had practiced his light feet from sneaking out to meet Ost in her room, to taking food from Reich's plates and then for just not frightening or making anyone aware of his presence at all. His mouth was burning, bile covering his tongue like the millions of souls that Reich had murdered reaching out to him in his dreams.
(He had dreamt of them many times in the past, their screams of fury and horror, their protests and screams to make him confess that it was his fault, oh his fault. It is his fault that he had caused their deaths, and he tries to fight back and say he cannot do anything but they let out horrible and gruesome noises until he is on the floor, sobbing, covering his ears and confessing that yes, yes, he murdered them all.)
Germany opens the door to the bathroom, immediately running to the first stall - almost tripping - and hunches his back over the toilets, making retching sounds as his throat burns, bile creeping up his throat and seeing the remains of his breakfast in the toilet makes him vomit even more. He sobs a little, trying to compose himself, shaking even more after he unleashed a torrent of his remains. He shakes, as he stands, wiping the edges of his mouth with the back of his wrist, before looking at himself in the mirror.
He makes notes of his now messy blonde hair, sad green eyes showing how much he had cried this day, the messed up suit. Germany exits the bathroom, looking at the direction of the office where he had ran off to and the exit. He turns on his heel.
He has no motivation to go back to the meeting.
-
Germany desires for a drink, but he abstains from that thought; he cannot return to a meeting by simply being drunk, no, he would make an ass of himself even more, and will be the subject of ill-willed jokes for months. He would pass bars that offer the best of beers, but he shakes his head from that thought- he had also realised that he left his wallet in the coat rack at the front of the building, and he swears silently at the loss of it.
(At least he won't go wasting his fortune on little drinks, that is a plus.)
He finds a park bench he can sit in, looking absolutely miserable, not minding the others' staring and the looks they give of him, of him displaying the vibe of an employee who was fired from his job.
Germany would usually stare off into space if he cannot get the slightest bit of the revelries of being drunk- the way his eyes will dilate, his mind bring him into a different world just as bad as this one, and his limbs going slack as if he had fallen asleep in all of this. The voices in his mind would make him imagine gruesome thoughts, and he lets them control him like a puppet with strings, since that is what he is, right? Nothing more, nothing less. At least he would not deal with the consequences of a hangover in the morning, head pounding and stumbling as he makes his way downstairs and visit the pharmacy store to buy painkillers.
The guilt inside of him is easy to be played with, and he lets everyone take advantage to the softest of pleas to the most direct of them all.
He does not fight back as he gives them what he wants.
He stands from the bench, feeling himself drained from thinking of these thoughts. He throws a glance to the people at the park; elderly men and women feeding the ducks, young couples having their first dates in underneath the trees while the children are playing and their parents are setting up the picnic table in a relaxed manner.
Sometimes Germany wishes he can be as relaxed as them; not these contorted limbs that had always been aching and hurting and making him want to cut them off one by one until he is limbless.
Feeling utterly sick to his stomach, he leaves the park to go look for a way to calm himself down of the insult.
He breaths in- t'was just an insult; he has no right to get angry or sad or offended by it.
It just brings back some horrible memories.
But horrible memories are meant to be sidelined to make way for happier and joyous memories.
(It is bold enough to assume he even has one.)
And horrible memories shouldn't be brought up on the dinner table; that's just going to make everyone hate you more instead of pitying your sorry face.
So he keeps them bottled up; only using them as a leverage to get some exquisite excuses from his mind and sometimes his line of work, whenever it gets stressful for him to even function.
(He'd have days like these- days where he is plagued by the ultimate failure and outcome of his mind that he cannot even begin to process the fact that he has a life other than being sad and lonely and being mad for the fact that his father up and abandon them to snap and become the most evil man he has ever witnessed.)
West kicks a rather empty can back to where it had come from, an abandoned and moldy alley with no light coming from there. He stares at it for a little; how he had unknowingly kicked a priced vase from its foundation and how Reich had heard that shatter and immediately fumed once he sees West's frail figure trying to pick up the broken pieces of the vase but ends up cutting himself, pricking his fingers and drawing in an amount of blood. He had remembered the insults and words thrown onto his face as he tries not to cry, but he does and Reich even grows more furious, his hand raised to hit him.
But it never did, instead he was laughing and making fun of the way West's body quivers in fear and tells him he's only joking; no need to overreact.
But West knows that he will never hesitate to hit him even in his most simplest of mistakes.
He now desires for a smoke, but he has neither the cigarettes nor lighter to even light one- he swears once again, now really regretting not bringing his wallet with him. He wants to get blackout drunk by now.
He passes by a fine-dining restaurant, with everyone seeming like they are having a good time with their friends and family, and he pauses his feet, looking through the glass like it is an ideal dream- unreachable, yet it can exist if he can just try. He remembers his father, feeding he and Ost with the scrapes of food he finds in the streets, and he feels content with even the single particle enter his stomach. Then it is replaced by a memory of Reich giving him only a meal a day; if West ever dared step out of his boundaries he will never be given a meal that day and will be left to starve.
(West had objected to this the first few times, of course.
"Papa would let me eat despite the fact I broke a frame!", he had said in front of Reich, who was smoking a cigar, puffing out a cloud of smoke.
"The only frame you'd be breaking is yours- except for the fact, it is already broken." Reich laughs at his joke as West's eyes immediately go downward.)
He jolts at the sudden memory in his mind - stop giving him painful memories you useless sack of membrane - stepping backwards and landing onto somebody's arms, and he looks up to find a concerned man and woman - perhaps husband and wife - looking down at him.
"Are you alright, young man?", the man holding him asks, and West steels himself and gets up from where he was being aided from; he did not need to be babied, that perspective of his life had come to a close once his father had turned.
(Germany must confess, but he wanted to be held, nurtured, cared for and loved in someone's arms once again, back to the times someone actually loved him before two people had the complete and utter gall to take them away and place him in a different surrounding where his sister hates him and everyone is against him.)
"I'm fine", Germany replies to the man, stepping back a little, "just a little... dazed."
"It's just... you've been walking 'round the place with quite a solemn look, like something has been on your mind."
Germany shakes his head and smiles, knowing full well it is plastic. "Really, I am fine- I just have a lot of things in my mind right now."
The man nods, "All right, off we go then. I do hope that you sort out whatever issues you are dealing with right now." With that, the couple walks off; leaving Germany in his thoughts once again and completely solemn.
He wonders if there are any vacant high-scaled buildings he can break in in the middle of the night.
-
Germany wakes up screaming after a nightmare. He gets up from the bed, unconsciously throwing his nightly glass of water to the walls, its shattered wails of glass desecrating his night - or day, he has lost time really - and screams even more when he remembers the horrible sounds of shattered glass to the screams of his people running rampant to Ost telling him they both need to jump out the window to escape the wrath of the enemies. West throws his sheets upon himself, utterly shaking from head-to-toe, trying to make himself relax, all his joints swollen and throat in pain after the high screams from his nightmare.
(He doesn't remember his dream; all he knows was that at first everything was white and then it faded to a crimson red of the blood his alleged victims had owned and the blue-stains signifying his tears.)
West gets up from his bed and unwraps himself from his blankets, looking around cautiously like the ghost of the past has been left behind to haunt him forever. Yet the ghost of the past is him; he is a living memory of what Reich had done, and he will be the one to blame for the next century or so.
(Sometimes he'd jump back from a reflection of him- scared at how he looks so much like his father to the point it is rather jarring.)
West was not fond of handling steak or kitchen knives at three in the morning, with his skin full of thin lines are tingling underneath his long sleeves, thirsting for the sharp metal to bury deep into his skin but he denies them with all his might despite the fact he eyes it- eyes the way it shines underneath the kitchen's ceiling light, calling him, tempting him to come have a taste of what the knife can do.
He sighs a little before ultimately giving up at making himself a snack at three, knowing full well he could not trust himself with a knife. Or any sharp object in general.
He decides not to eat anything at all, remembering the way he vomited out contents of his stomach at a single mention of the awful and horrible things Reich had done. Of course, has not eaten anything since yesterday, preferring having an empty stomach retching over the toilet trying to spill its contents into the bowl than a full one- his appetite would immediately become lost.
So Germany blankly opens the television and spends the rest of his free time before going back to his work place of pure torture. Not like he'd find a good movie or show to watch; he sincerely thinks that real life was much more entertaining than a measly motion picture with scripted words and actions and romance to top it all off.
(The way he sees it, he feels as if the romance of all the complicated movies and series he has seen are rushed; a handsome, dashing man and a damsel in distress falling in love, kissing passionately at the very end to show all that they are a couple, they are together, and everyone will be happy of their love. All the while, Germany would clench at his fists hard and crush the utter soul of what he is holding.
He had love. He had love a long time ago, before it came crashing down like tidal waves pinning him down to the deep blue sea and forever rendering him without his sister and father to guide him endlessly.)
He lets himself melt into the suffocating couch, sighing a little from how soft it feels on his back, contradictory to the fact that he can still feel the bruises Reich had caused on it, still throbbing with pain every time he presses them onto a hard surface. (Which is why his chairs on every meeting is stacked with pillows; he knows he cannot have his back mangled from both work and a painful past.)
He then stiffens when he hears a gunshot- then it starts to multiply a lot in his ears, amplifying it to the sounds of many a soldier screaming and ordering in German, then a shot towards he himself, a scared and trembling boy who tries his damnedest to lift the heavy armed weapon on his arms as he, with quivering feet, try catching up with the older men who were completely ignoring him to save their own asses.
"Bitte... lass mich alles vergessen." He silently prays to no one in particular; he has never had believed in a single faith after his childhood came crashing down to reveal the outside world in the most sickening and twisting of ways, twisting his mind until he cannot make up what is real and what is not anymore. "Bitte... bitte..."
His nerves start to rack as all of his senses were now on fire, trying to claw their way into his skull and he grits his teeth, opening and then closing his eyes again when he sees that everything around him is as dark as the death of the night, no stars nor light was there to guide him. He tries to stand, but his legs had turned as soft as jelly, and he stumbles with a hard thud- but it doesn't hurt him, only giving him a slight amplifying when his heart starts to beat, faster and racing like they were trying to catch up with his nerves settling into him. He tries to feel his hands, but they were numb, like they were settled deep into a blockade of ice where they stayed for an hour or two before completely being submerged frozen. His chest was heaving, pounding outwards like there was a beast inside him waiting to be let out so they can murder him. He can feel the wetness of his cheeks, though, and opens his mouth to let out a muffled sob but nothing comes out (if something did come out he'd choke it back down).
He tries to calm himself down - which was now a daily occurrence - because he knows no one will acknowledge him, no one will care that he's having panic attacks in three in the morning and trying to control himself from taking the knife and giving himself a variety of cuts and bruises along his skin.
No one will care.
And that's a fact he has to live with.
-
"You have the nerve to show your face here again?" Germany's green eyes slither towards the towering figure that was Frankreich, always high and mighty, always proud, and always antagonizing him no matter what he has to do. His eyes go back to the documents he was writing.
"I work here, Frankreich", he says softly but can still be heard by everyone in the room, "please leave me be."
He hears the woman laugh, her laugh just as warm and thick with honey as her voice. "Ah, so the la mauviette learns how to talk back to his higher-ups, hm?"
He ignores her, despite the fact he knows she doesn't have an inclination towards being ignored, loving the attention, loving the spotlight that may sometimes be meant to others.
(One time he sees Italy and France arguing about something he cannot hear, except for the fact that France was complaining about how she 'didn't have enough screen time' and Italy looking genuinely apologetic.)
"Rèponds-moi- I do not want to be ignored."
The sounds of scribbling paper fills the room, the entire office becoming eerily quiet for Germany's taste, and he wonders if France did have a specific touch on the building to let everyone know that drama was happening.
"RÈPONDS-MOI, SALE ALLEMAND!" Her shriek, which is an octave higher than her voice, makes West's handwriting sloppier as he jumps from his seat with his hair a mess from the jolt. His shaken eyes turn back to France, jaw locked, eyes murderous and bloodshot, her fingers on his desk.
(No, this did not bring him bad memories of Reich, absolutely not.)
"Ah, so I can get your attention from shouting", France says, a tiny smirk dancing across her face, a malicious intent in her eyes. "What? Scared I'll come to your room and murder you in cold blood?"
I am not afraid of murder, Germany wants to say but bites his tongue, knowing he'd provoke France even further than he did before.
"You are", she says with a small chuckle as she retracts her fingers from his table slowly, like she was going to raise it and scratch his face with her nails. "I think I know what else will frighten you."
She raises her hand, clenched to a fist, and Germany gasps; all of a sudden the warm air around the room has been shattered, replaced by the familiar chill he has always felt whenever he was around, whenever his shadow lurks in the darkness, watching, eyeing him and whenever he shows up in his delusions that are called dreams in his slumber. And he remembers those tainted red eyes of madness, showing no remorse as he strikes East after she had misbehaved his order, and then him, cowering in fear underneath the staircases but he receives a blow, horrible and it repeats and repeats, the blows becoming more and more painful as pain blossoms into his body while he apologizes, knowing full well Reich would never listen.
"ES TUT MIR LEID!" He did not know when he had stumbled into the ground, out of his chair, into the cold and hard floors, sweating, chest heaving and breath quickening, seeing the shadow of the ruthless dictator he had come to despise all his life, and not France. "Vergib mir! Bitte! Hit me but not her!" He starts to choke and sob, a river of tears running down his cheeks, gritting his teeth.
(Was he aware that he was foolishly breaking his own walls in front of people who dislike him? Perhaps, or he is hallucinating he was in his room once again talking to a shadow of that man.)
He screams when he feels someone's hand on his shoulder, and scrambles back like a rat against all human touches and wanting to get away from them. "GET AWAY! DU BIST NICHT VATER! Ich will meinen Vater! WO IST ER!" His eyes sesrch frantically at the sea of faces, trying to decipher who was the kind and caring father that had raised him over the years with his kind smile and lively attitude, and breaks down into sobs, crawling into a fetal position when he cannot find him.
(France hears Allemagne repeat Weimar and Ost's names, crying his heart out as he puts his face into his hands, his fingers digging into his skin. All the while, she did not know what had triggered this, and she looks at her fist with a confused look.)
The whole room is now full of nerve-racking sobs, when the man in front of them reverts back to a young boy that wants his family back.
-
Austria hears impatient knocks on his door, and he sighs, sitting up from where he was sitting and pinching the bridge of his nose, silently deciding whether to abandon his music composition briefly or answer the door. He decides to come downstairs, in his bathrobe and hurries down towards the door, where in which the troublesome knocks were resonating.
"Darf ich Ihnen helfen?", he asks calmly, until he fully registers who was at his doorstep-
France looks at him awkwardly, feet shifting from left to right and hands on her back. "Puis-je te demander quelque chose?"
France takes a sip of her cup of tea which Austria had brewed, placing it on the tray on the small coffee table as she puts her hands on her lap daintily.
(Austria knows that her dainty and fragile features mask the she-wolf of a woman that she is; that her innocent looks and pure smiles can mean something else and everyone who has fallen under her spell has suffered a terrible fate, a poisonous apple.)
"Third Reich", Austria spits his name out of his mouth, like a forbidden curse. "You are aware of the fact Weimar turned into him, correct?"
France rolls her eyes, "Of course I know. I wasn't born yesterday you know."
"Well, you see, the twins are quite attached to their father; something you can never relate to." He flicks his finger, a tiny snap as his eyes carefully flickers to a portrait of Liechtenstein. "When they realized their father was replaced by a terrible and god-awful man, oh, were they devastated."
"Well, from the way Allemagne was crying of his father today I can see it." France mentally slaps herself after she lets the remark slip out of her mouth, and now Austria was glaring at her, holding his cup of tea.
He sighs, "Well, I cannot critique you; I made no help to both of them, with the delusion of still being in power." He sighs a little, guilt lingering in his voice as he fixes his glasses. "Why do you need my help again?"
France's leg starts to bounce, "Because, Austria, I want to know why Allemagne overreacted to me almost hitting him yesterday."
Austria's eyes give off another slight irritation, as if not wanting to talk about how everything all went wrong yesterday.
(He was, of course, there, obviously- he had just gotten back from the coffee room only to see West on the floors with everyone standing like a deer in the headlights and France nowhere to be seen. He and Schweiz had to soothe Germany out of his fetal position and support him while walking. The nerve-wracking sobs remind Austria of Confederation and he was close to sobbing as well.)
"If you were such a 'smart' woman as you put it", Austria puts finger quotations on the word 'smart', much to France's dismay, "then you would know how much harshness Reich treated those twins of Weimar."
France leans uncomfortably into her chair, looking at the steam rising from her cup of tea like it was a phantom offering her something else in the cup, a woman giving her a thousand knowledge in one life time. She sighs, "Look, I know me and the others were at fault for his demise-"
"It's not entirely your fault too", Austria cuts in, "it is partially also Weimar's for accepting the ghost in his head telling him of promises so he can take what was his."
"Alright, back to the topic", France swivels, "I've noticed something peculiar about Germany. About the way he's always really silent that when he speaks everyone just jumps because they're unaware he was in the same room as them; the way he jumps when someone makes a loud noise; the way he asks people if this seat or place is taken despite the fact that he actually is seated there; and just yesterday, when I tried to hit him he just spent half an hour on the floors, grovelling, until you helped him up."
Austria thinks for a moment, lips pursed as if contemplating how this situation had gone to a topsy-turvy. "Have you ever considered that this net behavior of West can stem from years of hurt and pain?"
France blinks, "I thought he was just anxious and shy-"
"You thought wrong, Frankreich", Austria says, glowering a little. "You'll always assume even the most basic of things. I've seen West being hit and belittled by Reich, while that disgusting man had enjoyed his pain and misery." His face shows more regret once again. "But what do I know? I turned a blind eye on them all. The next thing I knew Reich was dead in his office, West is in the Allies' custody, and East is now with the Soviet Union."
France sighs a little, "Listen, I've done something horrible to Allemagne, that I can tell; and I want to... help him."
Austria scoffs, gripping the handle of his cup hard. "Help? I think you've done your part on helping the poor boy. You think hitting him will make you feel satisfied at the fact you made a boy grovel at your feet? That is not helping; you are doing the same thing Reich did."
"And what did Reich do?"
The man in front of her chuckles, like he has seen a hilarious move right in front of him. "Isn't it obvious? He hits, starves, and misuses the twins to the point they are broken beyond belief."
"I... I didn't know that bastard would do that to his own children!" France tries to find some evidence so she can prove herself justifiable of why she had tried to hit West in the first place. Her mind gives her a conscience instead of a reliable excuse though- she wanted to hit West to see how much his mind will topple over and break him like the fragile glass in abandoned buildings and even in her own home in which she drunkenly throws all of her glasses of wine into the walls.
Österreich glares at her with a magnitude of a thousand suns looking to strike her down. "Now you know, and now... I do not know. If you would've given the boy a chance, then he would not be scarred by days past. He would not wallow in guilt on what has become in his life and how he should make it up to every single one of you. I can only be here for him for a short while before he goes back to his home in a pitying manner, before he goed nd play with that razor blade-"
France's heart stops for a second as she jolts up from where she was sitting. "Wait... Allemagne hurts himself?"
The sadness in Austria's eyes increase as he looks back at the cup in his hands. "He does; I tried so much to get him out of those manners but he would not listen- he keeps telling me he will kill himself when the timing is right, when the sea meets the sky."
France feels more and more feelings of guilt churn inside of her; who is she to mock the German family when even she was just as terrible as they are? And she remembers the awful things she has told about West and his sister and father, even right in front of him or in earshot like she has no care for his feelings and treating him as a person even lower than she.
She stands, "Thank you for the small talk, Austria, but now I have to go."
He gives her a small wave of farewell as she closes the door behind her, cup of tea already cold.
-
The air at the roof of the building was quite cold and chilly- like the cold floors that Reich would press West upon or the even harsher winters in which he is thrown outside after pushing Reich's buttons too much so now he has to sleep in front of the door he has been kicked out of, with thin clothes and freezing to death as he tries to plead with Reich to take him home.
(He'd cry and weep as he shakes with the shattering snowflakes as the tears on his face freeze up as his body becomes frozen and he crawls into a sitting position to conceal the warmth that still resonates within him.
Reich would only open the door when he is unconscious and would take him in like the loving father figure he is, wrapping him up in blankets and hiring the best doctors to help heal him. When West came to, he would shout at Reich but he'd simply laugh and say he has saved his life from the hazardous cold of the winter season.)
He takes the burnt out cigarette that has been stuck on his mouth for long as he drops it to the ground and steps on it as he grows closer, tantalizingly closer to the edge. The wind becomes colder and stronger, screaming at him to back away unless he deserves the terrible fate he's always did and steps on the edge to see what lies beyond the top of the very building.
West's eyes scan the neighbouring buildings, full of blinkering yellow lights that show people going on about their mundane but impacting lives, at how, in introspection, these lives are not worthwhile in the history books and that only the people living their lives fully know what has happened; not even their closest relatives will know of their deepest secrets and dreams and fears, only the speck of imagination that came out of their mouth is the only knowledge their closest companions will absorb of. He looks down at the speeding cars, wondering if he falls down from this great height and be flattened by the ashphalt road, will the cars zooming in such a high or moderate speed stop when they see some large thing fall from the sky in heaven's grace? Or would they simply ignore and accidentally run over his mangled corpse?
His polished dark shoe is camouflaged with the dark sky, as he taps to create a small cadence before his untimely - but expected - death. He takes a deep breath - his last - closing his eyes and to calm his beating heart, which was protruding from his chest and wishing to escape.
Not to worry, he tells his beating heart, you will be free after I fall off this building.
West takes a cautionary step outside the edge of the building, his shoe touching thin air, trying to see if it can carry him away from oblivion, away from its taste, trying hard to seduce him into the dark side, lips tainted with past lovers. He exhales, letting out all his stress, trauma, hate and sadness that has been plaguing him like a sickness in all the years after Reich had been created (his father was a fool).
So he leans- leans into the very edge, waiting for his inevitable death to sweep him into the afterlife, where he belongs.
A hand holding on his wrist stops him, and now he is frozen on the edge, like the sculptures of a fountain he has seen numerous times before. And then he is pulled back, pulled back to the bittersweet tastes of imminent death, his eyes looking back down to the ground waiting patiently for him, trying to comprehend that a body would not drop to their hard bed that easily.
Instead of fighting, he feels numb; like the only safe way to close the curtains of his life is down. He cannot feel his hands, like he had just inhaled another fresh bag of cocaine and spread it all over his systems like a fresh batch of flour had just rubbed off into him. West then feels himself coming to his senses, as he is brought back to the world of living he hated and will always hate and into warm arms that scoops him up like a swan.
"Allemagne, can you hear me?" The voice was sweet, pure but with the touch of concern in it, like she cares, oh she cares at how far West has fallen down. Her hands finds West's cheeks, warm with tears he did not know had appeared on his face during his time being saved by the light that has always hated him ever since he was born. "S'il te plait dis quelque chose, Allemagne."
West stares up at the night sky, stars blinking and twinkling all above him like they will shower him with gifts, gifts that will never make sense in a lifetime. His eyes search the skies, to find the constellations moving to form his sister, his dear sister that had pushed him away when they had reunified, smiling down at him just like in the old days, when spring felt warm in his hands as it devours the icy winters, touching the frozen wasteland that had become second nature. The constellations move again to form his father, his dear and loving father he had loved from the beginning to the end of his life, anger suddenly dissipating when he remembers the real reason why he became desperate, clutching at short straws before succumbing to the deepest and darkest desires of his mind, working like a needle for him to grapple at and sew his own life story.
(He reminisces about the small but comfortable apartment they had once lived; he was always never alone, he was always never sad nor angry, especially when it was with their father and Ost, so happy and so peaceful, until like a picture they were torn apart by the great grand scheme of things.)
And he sees her, burning like a supernova under the stars, the sun expanding and expanding and expanding until it wholly occupies the space where all life exists, her troubled face looking down at him with such intensity that he could not bear look at her eyes of hurt, knowing he's disappointed her, over and over again.
Frankreich's hands feel like the sun underneath his tear-covered cheeks, ultimately caressing him and then taking him by her arms, like they were the best of friends, the worst of enemies, dying in battle. "Je suis vraiment désolé." There she goes again, cradling him like a small and vulnerable infant unready for the world to take them out, but he enjoys it, he enjoys her embrace, he enjoys everything about this feeling, as if he had not felt it in a long time.
So he stays.
-
Es tut mir leid Frankreich aber- i'm sorry France but
Bitte ... lass mich alles vergessen- please, let me forget everything
Rèponds-moi- answer me
Vergib me- forgive me
Du bist nicht vater- you are not my father
Ich will meinen vater, wo ist er- i want my father, where is he
Darf ich Ihnen helfen?- may i help you
puis-je te demander quelque chose- can i ask you something
S'il te plait dis quelque chose- please say something
Je suis vraiment désolé- i'm so sorry
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italiancherrybombs · 5 years
Text
Secret Spectres
Romano x America + first Halloween (as a couple)
Recipient: @whatever-aph  
Characters: [America, Romano]
Notes: For the Secret Spectres with @hetaliawritersdiscord ! This was my first time writing for Romerica, and I thoroughly enjoyed it! Hope you like it too!
It was such a bummer that Halloween fell on a Wednesday this year.
Lovino didn’t agree with trick-or-treating (“How would the parents react when they see two grown-ass adults begging for candy, Alfred? Right on their doorstep?”), but he did agree to the costumes. Alfred was surprised when Lovino asked if there were any Halloween parties in the area that weren’t aimed towards to kids, and unfortunately, there weren’t any. All of the parties, if any, were on the weekends, and both of them agreed that dressing outside of Halloween would be weird.
They would just have to make do with their circumstances.
“I really don’t think our first Halloween together is such a special thing,” Lovino sighed, on the night of the 30th. They were on Alfred’s bed together, staring up at the ceiling. Alfred had his cute pumpkin pajamas on, while Lovino had relented when Alfred asked if he could wear those pajama pants with black cats.
“You don’t think so?” Alfred asked, and Lovino could just hear the smile in his voice.
Lovino shook his head. “The only difference between tomorrow and any other day is that we’ll be handing out candy to kids. Oh, and we’ll be in costume. That’s about it. We’ll still be going to work, and we’ll still be together.”
“Yeah, but that’s exactly it!” Alfred reached over to wrap his arms around Lovino’s waist, which earned him a surprised squawk. “We’ll be celebrating it together! And you’ll be making those sweets!”
Lovino huffed. “Only because I’m not eating cheap crap,” he mumbled, squeezing Alfred’s arms close to himself. Alfred grinned.
“Whatever you say, man,” he laughed, nuzzling a kiss between the crook of Lovino’s neck. And, despite himself, Lovino snorted and pinched Alfred at the side to get him back. From there, it quickly devolved into a cuddle-fight.
October 31st started out pretty boring, actually. They departed for their jobs -- Lovino at the daycare and Alfred at the high school gym -- and other than gaudy plastic pumpkins and pictures of spiders and cauldrons taped on the walls, it was a mostly regular workday for them. Lovino still had to pull two quarreling children apart (even though, in this situation, the little brat wanted to pull a kid’s tiara off), politely argue with parents (“No, ma’am, we don’t know if the caramel apples are gluten-free, yes, we promise not to feed any sort of candy to your child.”), and already wishing to get home by noon. Alfred, on the other hand, had to deal with a teen who wanted to do laps with a gorilla mask on and had to send them to the dean’s office to take care of. It wasn’t as if dealing with kids breaking dress code was anything new. This time was just... weird.
Lovino arrived home first. He always arrived home first at three, since that was when a majority of the parents picked up their little tots from the daycare (and he refused to stay until seven waiting for those parents that nearly forget to pick up their children, how in the world do they do that?). Only bothering to put an apron on top of his work clothes, he went straight into the kitchen to make the sweets.
Alfred arrived home an hour and a half later. It smelled so damn good. Lovino was hunched over the stovetop, stirring something with a large wooden spoon. Alfred wanted to surprise him with a hug, but he remembered the last time he did that when Lovino was handling something hot. (They were out making s’mores over a campfire with Alfred’s family, and when Alfred suddenly hugged Lovino, Lovino almost whacked him with his marshmallow -- which was on fire. it was a crazy night.)
So instead, he just announced his presence with small banter.
“Whatcha cooking now?” Alfred asked, peeking over Lovino’s shoulder. The chocolate chips were half-melted in the saucepan, Lovino deftly folding the chocolate over.
“I’m just melting chocolate,” Lovino mumbled, poking the saucepan. “Cupcakes finished baking, though. They’re over there.”
At that, Alfred perked up. “Really?” He glanced to the kitchen counter, and lo and behold, a tray of chocolate cupcakes were cooling on the metal rack. So that the source of the smell. He sneakily sidestepped and tried to pluck a cupcake from the rack.
“If you burn your fingers on that, I’m not taking you to the hospital.”
Alfred snorted. “They’re not that hot,” he insisted, but he backed away nonetheless. “Anything I can do to help you?”
Lovino shrugged, motioning towards the cabinet. “Sprinkles and white chocolate are in the cabinet.”
With a mock gasp, Alfred opened the wooden cabinet and grabbed the bag of white chocolate chips and various bottles of sprinkles. “You? A cooking connoisseur? Using the forbidden white chocolate?” He teased, placing the bag right beside his love.
Lovino rolled his eyes. “You’re the one who wanted mummy cupcakes.” He turned off the stovetop, then removed the saucepan. “Pour it into a bowl, please?”
They spent the rest of the afternoon decorating cupcakes into cutesy monsters, including bats, mummies, jack-o-lanterns, and even a rainbow zombie -- white chocolate with all the leftover sprinkles on top. The idea was Alfred’s, and Lovino honestly couldn’t believe the sprinkles would stick.
“It’s gonna be the tastiest one and you know it,” Alfred grinned, rubbing his hands with a napkin.
“With all that crap on it?” Lovino asked as he placed dishes into the sink. “... Yeah, probably.”
That earned him a messy kiss on the cheek, and Lovino half-heartedly complained about the chocolate Alfred hadn’t wiped from his mouth yet.
They had just finished cleaning the kitchen when the doorbell rang.
“... Craaaaap,” Alfred hissed. “We’re not in costume yet!”
Lovino leaned back to glance through the window. Already, there were three kids and a parent crowded around their door; one kid reached up to ring the doorbell again, but an older kid smacked the hand away.
“I’ll go give them candy,” Lovino sighed. “You go change in your costume.” With a quick kiss, Lovino ducked under Alfred to get the bowl.
“You’re the best!” Alfred sang as he bolted up the stairs, grin still on his face as he went into the bedroom.
Lovino only clicked his tongue as he grabbed the creepy ceramic bowl with the hand sticking out. Alfred apparently got it from a thrift store a while ago, and when he showed it to Lovino, Lovino could only stare.
“We can’t use that,” Lovino muttered at the time.
“Why not?” Alfred grinned, shaking the bowl so the hand tilted towards Lovino. “You scared of it~?”
Now, Lovino supposed it made a fine bowl, even with the weird lifelike hand. He grabbed the huge bag of assorted candies and dumped in half. The kids could get the crappy chocolate and caramels. They, on the other hand, were going to feast on quality treats.
No sooner did Lovino close the door behind him, the happy costumed kids stepping onto the sidewalk with their plastic bags a little fuller than before, Alfred emerged from the bathroom fully dressed.
“You think I look white enough?” Alfred asked, still rubbing white chalk on his face. It was a miracle his midnight blue Dracula suit wasn’t getting lighter in the process.
“White as a ghost,” Lovino said, climbing up the stairs to meet him. He fixed Alfred’s collar, then frowned at Alfred’s neck. “No blood this time?”
Alfred groaned. “I don’t want to scare the kids.”
“Oh, believe me, they’ve seen scarier.” The doorbell rang again as Lovino shifted the collar to a satisfactory position, and he sighed. “I’ll go change now.” He took another step, then turned behind him. “And I don’t want you touching the cupcakes with those chalky hands!”
Alfred just sent him a wide grin before greeting the door.
Lovino’s costume took longer. So long, in fact, that it was only after the third family that Lovino called Alfred up.
Alfred barely suppressed a snort. “Didn’t we agree on only two toilet paper rolls?”
Lovino rolled his eyes, wrapping more toilet paper around his arm. “I have to make sure it doesn’t rip, you jerk,” he huffed. “And plus, if I can pay for the toilet paper, I can use however much I want.”
Unlike Alfred’s simple chalk-to-the-face, Lovino went full out with an ashy-gray face and penned-in red scars. If Alfred didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought his boyfriend turned into a zombie-mummy.
“Anyways...” Lovino snapped Alfred out of his thoughts with a toilet paper roll shoved into his chest. “Could you wrap that around my chest? Please?”
Alfred complied, wrapping the paper around as Lovino stuck in as many pieces of medical tape as he could to secure it. The process, while time-consuming (and frustrating, especially when the tape itself ripped the paper), was easy enough. Soon, a mummy in tatters was stiffly walking out of the bathroom and down the stairs with bespectacled Dracula.
"You okay there?" Alfred laughed as Lovino tried to move his arms as little as possible. "Do you need help sitting down?" His smile only widened when Lovino sent an annoyed look his way.
They spent the night hanging out on the kitchen table eating cupcakes and answering the door to give away candy. The two of them commented on other kids' and sometimes parents' costumes behind their closed door, with mostly admiration for a child's costume and embarrassment for a grownup's. They received a few comments about their costumes, and they returned the favor with compliments of their own. It was a very relaxing night overall.
Soon enough, it was about nine o'clock, their refilled bowl whittling down to none and only two cupcakes left. Alfred's chalky face had diminished a bit, especially around the mouth area. Lovino had to pull off some of the toilet paper to get rid of stray frosting bits and sprinkles.
"We should do this next year," Alfred mused, taking Lovino's hand and squeezing.
Lovino squeezed back. "Mm. I suppose."
"Do bigger and better costumes. And hey, it'll be on a Thursday! More parties, probably!"
He only nodded, lacing Alfred's fingers into his own. "Spending time with you is enough," he muttered, resting his head on his hand. "I really liked spending the night with just you."
Alfred, miraculously, blushed through the chalk. It wasn't often Lovino got sappy.
"And I like making cupcakes too. They're fun." Lovino groaned, shifting in his seat. "Ugh, I wanna get out of this. I feel naked."
"Even with all that toilet paper?" Alfred teased, then helped Lovino up. "I feel over-dressed. This suit's gonna make me melt."
Lovino rolled his eyes. Their hands were still joined as they climbed up the stairs to the bedroom. "It was cold outside. You were fine. Me, on the other, hand, I almost froze my ass off--"
The bedroom door closed behind them, their light banter continuing through the night.
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aion-rsa · 3 years
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Upcoming Must-See Movies in 2021
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It’s 2021. Finally. If you’re reading this, it means you’ve hopefully gotten through the wreckage of last year unscathed and are ready for a brighter future. And if you’re also a movie lover, this certainly includes a trip (or 20) back to the cinemas.
Sure, theaters were technically open in some places last fall, but the moviegoing season has largely remained dormant since March 2020. Yet given good news about vaccines starting to become available, and an absolutely stacked 2021 movie release calendar, we have reasons to be cautiously optimistic.
Indeed, 2021 promises many of the most anticipated films from last year, plus new surprises. From the superhero variety like Black Widow to the art house with Wes Anderson’s The French Dispatch, 2021 could be a much needed respite. So below is just a sampling of what to expect from the year to come…
The Little Things
January 29
One of the year’s earliest high profile releases is also the first of WB’s film slate on HBO Max. The Little Things is a serial killer thriller in the old school mold. It also boasts a brutally talented cast that includes Denzel Washington and Rami Malek as the detectives, and Jared Leto as the killer. As the latest movie from John Lee Hancock (The Founder, The Alamo), this looks like the type of star-led seediness that used to dominate the multiplex.
Maclolm and Marie
February 5
Assassination Nation writer-director Sam Levinson returns for a decidedly stripped down and intimate character study about two people on the threshold of their lives changing–and perhaps splitting apart. With Zendaya and John David Washington in roles unlike anything we’ve seen the pair in before, they play a couple returning home after the premiere of Malcolm’s (Washington) first movie. He’s on the cusp of life-changing success as a director, but when confronted by Marie about past secrets and hard truths… the night takes a turn.
Judas and the Black Messiah
February 12
It’s kind of hard to wrap one’s head around the annual “Oscar race” in a year when little trophies don’t seem so damn important, but Warner Bros. feels strongly enough about this movie that it’s getting it into theaters and on HBO Max right in the thick of the pandemic-delayed awards season. And judging by the marketing, it’s bringing heat with it.
Shaka King directs and co-writes the story of Fred Hampton (Daniel Kaluuya), who became the chairman of the Illinois chapter of the Black Panther Party in the late 1960s and was murdered in cold blood by police in 1969. LaKeith Stanfield plays William O’Neal, a petty criminal who agreed to help the FBI take Hampton down. This promises to be incendiary, relevant material — and it’s almost here.
Minari
February 12
Lee Isaac Chung directs Steven Yeun–now fully shaking off his years as Glenn on The Walking Dead–in this semi-autobiographical film about a South Korean family struggling to settle down in rural America in the 1980s. Premiering nearly a year ago at the Sundance Film Festival, where it won both the U.S. Dramatic Grand Jury Prize and the U.S. Dramatic Audience Award, Minari had a quick one-week virtual release in December, with a number of critics placing it on their Top 10 lists for 2020.
Its story of immigration and assimilation currently has a perfect 100 percent score on Rotten Tomatoes, with critics lauding its heart, grace, and sensitivity. A few of ours also considered it among 2020’s best.
Nomadland
February 19
Utilizing both actors and real people, director Chloé Zhao (The Rider, Marvel’s upcoming Eternals) chronicles the lives of America’s “forgotten people” as they travel the West searching for work, companionship and community. A brilliant Frances McDormand stars as Fern, a woman in her mid-60s who lost her husband, her house, and her entire previous existence when her town literally vanished following the closure of its sole factory.
Zhao’s film quietly flows from despair to optimism and back to despair again, the hardscrabble lives of its itinerant cast (many of them actual nomads) foregrounded against often stunning–if lonely–vistas of the vast, empty American countryside.
I Care a Lot
February 19
A solid cast, led by Rosamund Pike, Peter Dinklage, Chris Messina, and Dianne Wiest, star in this satirical crime drama from director J. Blakeson (The Disappearance of Alice Creed). Pike plays Marla, a con artist whose scam is getting herself named legal guardian of her elderly marks and then draining their assets while sticking them in nursing homes. She’s ruthless and efficient at it, until she meets a woman (Wiest) whose ties to a crime boss (Dinklage) may prove too much of a challenge for the wily Marla. It was one of our favorites out of Toronto last year.
The Father
February 26
Anthony Hopkins gives a mesmerizing, and deeply tragic, performance as Anthony, an elderly British man whose descent into dementia is reflected by the film itself, which plays with time, setting, and continuity until both Anthony and the viewer can no longer tell what is real and what is not. Olivia Colman is equally moving as his daughter, who wants to get on with her own life even as she watches her father’s disintegrate in front of her.
We saw The Father last year at the AFI Fest and it ended up being a favorite of 2020; Hopkins is unforgettable in this bracing, heartbreaking work, which is stunningly adapted by first-time director Florian Zeller from his own award-winning play.
Chaos Walking
March 5
This constantly postponed sci-fi project has become one of those “we’ll believe it when we see it” films until it actually comes out. Shot nearly three and a half years ago by director Doug Liman, Chaos Walking has undergone extensive reshoots and was at one point reportedly deemed unreleasable.
Based on the book The Knife of Letting Go, it places Tom Holland (Spider-Man: Far From Home) and Daisy Ridley (The Rise of Skywalker) on a distant planet where Ridley, the only woman, can hear the thoughts of all the men due to a mysterious force called the Noise.
Raya and the Last Dragon
March 5
Longtime Walt Disney Animation Studios head of story, Paul Briggs (Frozen), will make his directorial debut on this original Disney animated fantasy, which draws upon Eastern traditions to tell the tale of a young warrior who goes searching for the world’s last dragon in the mysterious land of Kumandra. Cassie Steele will voice Raya while Awkwafina (The Farewell) will portray Sisu the dragon.
Disney Animation has been nearly invincible in recent years with other hits like Moana and Zootopia, so watch for this one to be another major hit for the Mouse.
Coming 2 America
March 5
The notion of whether nostalgia-based properties are still viable has cropped up repeatedly in the last few years. However, streaming, which is where Coming 2 America finds itself headed post-COVID, makes golden oldies much safer. This sequel—based on a 32-year-old comedy that was one of Eddie Murphy’s most financially successful hits—sees Murphy back as Prince Akeem, of course, along with Arsenio Hall returning as his loyal friend Semmi.
The plot revolves around Akeem’s discovery, just as he is about to be crowned king, that he has a long-lost son living in the States (we’re not sure how that happened, but let’s just go with it). That, of course, necessitates another visit to our shores—that is, if Akeem and Semmi presumably don’t get stopped at the border. The film reunites Murphy with Dolemite is My Name director Craig Brewer, so perhaps they can make some cutting-edge social comedy out of this?
The King’s Man
March 12
This might be a weird thing to say: but has World War I ever seemed so stylish? It is with Matthew Vaughn at the helm.
An origin story of sorts for the organization that gave us Colin Firth and the umbrella, The King’s Man is a father and son yarn where Ralph Fiennes’ Duke of Oxford is reluctant about his son Conrad (Harris Dickinson) joining the war effort. But they’ll both be up to it as the Duke launches an intelligence gathering agency independent from any government. It also includes Gemma Arterton, Matthew Goode, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson as charter members.
Oh, and did we mention they fight Rasputin?
Godzilla vs. Kong
March 26
Here we are, at last at the big punch up between Godzilla and King Kong. They both wear a crown, but in the film that Warner Bros. and Legendary Pictures have been building toward since 2014, only one can walk away with the title of the king of all the monsters.
Admittedly, not everyone loved the last American Godzilla movie, Godzilla: King of the Monsters, but we sure did. Still, Godzilla vs. Kong should be a different animal with Adam Wingard (You’re Next, The Guest) taking over directorial duties. It also has a stacked cast with some familiar faces (Kyle Chandler, Millie Bobby Brown, and Ziyi Zhang) and plenty of new ones (Alexander Skarsgård, Eiza González, Danai Gurira, Lance Reddick, and more).
It’ll probably be better than the original, right? And hey with its HBO Max rollout, questions of a poor box office run sure are conveniently mooted!
No Time to Die
April 2
Nothing lasts forever, and the Daniel Craig era of James Bond is coming to an end… hopefully in 2021. In fact, delays notwithstanding, it’s a bit of a surprise Craig is getting an official swan song with this movie after the star said he’d rather “slash his wrists” before doing another one. Well, we’re glad he didn’t, just as we’re hopeful for his final installment in the tuxedo.
Director Cary Joji Fukunaga is a newcomer to the franchise, but that might be a good thing after how tired Spectre felt, and Fukunaga has done sterling work in the past on True Detective and Maniac. He also looks to bring the curtain down on the whole Craig oeuvre by picking up on the last movie’s lingering threads, such as 007 driving off into the sunset with Léa Seydoux’s Madeleine Swann, while introducing new ones that include Rami Malek as Bond villain Safin and Ana de Armas as new Bond girl Paloma. Yay for the Knives Out reunion!
Mortal Kombat
April 16
Not to be deterred by the relative failure of Sony’s Monster Hunter in theaters at the tail end of 2020, Warner Bros. is giving this venerable video game franchise another shot at live-action cinematic glory after two previous tries in the 1990s. Director Simon McQuoid makes his feature debut while the script comes from Dave Callaham (Wonder Woman 1984, Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings) and the cast includes a number of actors you’ve seen in other films but can’t quite place.
The plot? Who knows! But we’re guessing it will feature gods, demons, and warriors battling for control of the 18 realms in various fighting tournaments. What else do you want?
A Quiet Place Part II
April 23
The sequel to one of 2018’s biggest surprises, A Quiet Place Part II comes with major expectations. And few may hold it to a higher standard than writer-director John Krasinski. Despite (spoiler) the death of his character in the first film, Krasinski returns behind the camera for the sequel after saying he wouldn’t. The story he came up with apparently was too good to pass up.
The film again stars Emily Blunt as the often silenced mother of a vulnerable family, which includes son Marcus (Noah Jupe) and deaf daughter Regan (Millicent Simmonds). However, now that they know how to kill the eagle-eared alien monsters who’ve taken over their planet, the cast has grown to include Cillian Murphy and Djimon Hounsou. While the film has been delayed due to the coronavirus outbreak, trust us that it’ll be worth the wait. Is it finally time for… resistance?
Last Night in Soho
April 23
Fresh off the success of 2017’s Baby Driver (his biggest commercial hit to date), iconoclastic British director Edgar Wright returns with what is described as a psychological and possibly time-bending horror thriller set in London. Whether this features Wright’s trademark self-aware humor remains to be seen, but since the film is said to be inspired by dread-inducing genre classics like Repulsion and Don’t Look Now, he might be going for a different effect this time.
The cast, of course, is outstanding: upstarts Anya Taylor-Joy (Queen’s Gambit) and Thomasin McKenzie (Jojo Rabbit) will face off with Matt Smith (Doctor Who), and British legends Diana Rigg and Terence Stamp. And the truth is we’re never going to miss one of Wright’s movies. Taylor-Joy talked to us here about finding her 1960s lounge singer voice for the film.
Black Widow
May 7
Some would charitably say it arrives a decade late, but Black Widow is finally getting her own movie. This is fairly remarkable considering she became street pizza in Avengers: Endgame, but this movie fits snugly between the events of Captain America: Civil War and Avengers: Infinity War. It also promises to be the most pared down Marvel Studios movie since 2014’s Captain America: The Winter Soldier, and that’s a good thing.
In the film, Scarlett Johansson’s Natasha Romanoff is on the run after burning her bridges with the U.S. government and UN. This brings her back to the spy games she thought she’d escaped from her youth, and back in the orbit of her “sister” Yelena (Florence Pugh). Old wounds are ripped open, old Soviet foes, including David Harbour as the Red Guardian and Rachel Weisz as Nat and Yelena’s girlhood instructor, are revealed, and many a fight sequence with minimal CGI will be executed.
How’s that for a real start to Phase 4? Of course that’s still assuming this comes out before The Eternals after it was delayed, again, due to the coronavirus pandemic.
Spiral
May 21
Chris Rock has co-written the story for a new take on the Saw franchise. Never thought we’d write those words! The fact that it also stars Rock, as well as Samuel L. Jackson, is likewise head-turning. It looks like they’re going for legitimate horror with Darren Lynn Bousman attached to direct after helming three of the Saw sequels, and its grisly pre-COVID trailer from last year.
Hopefully this will be better than most of the franchise that came before, and given the heavily David Fincher-influenced tone of the first trailer, we’re willing to cross our fingers and play this game.
Free Guy
May 21
What would you do if you discovered that you were just a background character in an open world video game—and that the game was soon about to go offline? That’s the premise of this existential sci-fi comedy from director Shawn Levy, best known for the Night at the Museum series and as an executive producer and director on Stranger Things. Ryan Reynolds stars as Guy, a bank teller who discovers that his life is not what he thought it was, and in fact isn’t even real—or is it? We’ve seen a preview of footage, so we’d suggest you think Truman Show, if Truman was trapped in Grand Theft Auto.
F9
May 28
Just when you thought this never-say-die franchise had shown us everything it could possibly dream up, it ups the stakes one more time: the ninth entry in the Fast and Furious saga (excluding 2019’s Hobbs and Shaw) will reportedly take Dom Toretto (Vin Diesel) and his cohorts into space as they battle Dom’s long-lost brother Jakob (John Cena, making a long-overdue debut in this series). Michelle Rodriguez, Tyrese Gibson, Chris “Ludacris” Bridges, Jordana Brewster, Helen Mirren, and Charlize Theron all also return, as does director Justin Lin, who took a two-film break from his signature series. Expect to see the required physics-defying stunts, logic-defying action and even more talk about “family” than usual.
Cruella
May 28
Since Disney has already made an animated 101 Dalmatians in 1961 and a live-action remake in 1996, it is apparently time to tell the story again Maleficent-style. Hence we now focus on the viewpoint of iconic villainess Cruella de Vil, played this time by Emma Stone. She’s joined in the movie by Emma Thompson, Paul Walter Hauser, and Mark Strong, with direction handled by Craig Gillespie (sort of a step down from 2017’s I, Tonya, if you ask us).
The story has been updated to the 1970s, but Cruella–now a fashion designer–still covets the fur of dogs for her creations. This is a Mouse House joint, so don’t expect it to get too dark, and don’t be completely surprised if it ends up as a premium on Disney+ in lieu of its already delayed theatrical release.
Infinite
May 28
This sci-fi yarn from director Antoine Fuqua (The Equalizer) stars Mark Wahlberg as a man experiencing what he thinks are hallucinations, but which turn out to be memories from past lives. He soon learns that there is a secret society of people just like him, except that they have total recall of their past identities and have acted to change the course of history throughout the centuries.
Based on the novel The Reincarnationist Papers by D. Eric Maikranz, this was originally a post-Marvel vehicle for Chris Evans. He dropped out, and the combination of Fuqua and Wahlberg hints at something more action-oriented than the rather cerebral premise suggests. The film also stars Sophie Cookson, Chiwetel Ejiofor, and Dylan O’Brien.
The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It
June 4
James Wan is already directing a new horror film this year so he’s stepping away from the directorial duties on the third film based on the paranormal investigations of Ed and Lorraine Warren (Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga). That task has fallen to Michael Chaves (The Curse of La Llorona), so expect plenty of the same Wan Universe touches: heavy atmosphere, superb use of sound, and shocking, eerie visuals.
Details are scarce, but the plot—like the other two Conjuring films—is taken from the true-life case of a man who went on trial for murder and said as his defense that he was possessed by a demon when he committed his crimes. That’s all we know for now, except that, intriguingly, Mitchell Hoog and Megan Ashley Brown have been cast as younger versions of the Warrens.
Ghostbusters: Afterlife
June 11
With the 2016 Ghostbusters reboot criticized (fairly) for its lack of imagination and castigated (unfairly as hell) for its all-female ghost-hunting crew, director Jason Reitman–finally cashing in on the family name by returning to the brand his dad Ivan directed to glory in 1984–has crafted a direct sequel to the original films.
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Set 30 years later, Afterlife follows a family who move to a small town only to discover that they have a long-secret connection to the OG Ghostbusters. Carrie Coon (The Leftovers), Finn Wolfhard (Stranger Things) and Paul Rudd (Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania) star alongside charter cast members Dan Aykroyd, Ernie Hudson, Sigourney Weaver, Annie Potts, and, yes, Bill Murray.
In the Heights
June 18
Lin-Manuel Miranda’s first Broadway hit musical gets the big screen treatment (by way of HBO Max) from director Jon M. Chu (Crazy Rich Asians). Set in Washington Heights over the course of a three-day heat wave, the plot and ensemble cast carry echoes of both Rent and Do the Right Thing. While a success on the stage—if not quite the cultural phenomenon that Miranda’s next show, Hamilton—it remains to be seen whether In the Heights can strike a chord with streaming audiences.
Luca
June 18
Continuing its current run of all-new, non-sequel original films started in 2020 with Onward and Soul, Pixar will unveil Luca this summer. Directed by Enrico Casarosa–making his feature debut after 18 years with the animation powerhouse–the film tells the story of a friendship between a human being and a sea monster (disguised as another human child) on the Italian Riviera. That’s about all we have on it for now, except that the cast includes Drake Bell and John Ratzenberger.
Pixar’s recent track record has included masterpieces like Inside Out, solid sequels like Toy Story 4, and shakier propositions like The Incredibles 2, but we don’t have any indication yet of what to expect from Luca.
Venom: Let There Be Carnage
June 25
Can anyone honestly say that 2018’s Venom was a “good” movie? A batshit insane movie, yes, and perhaps even an entertaining one in its own nutty way, but good or not, it made nearly a billion bucks at the box office so here we are.
Tom Hardy will return to peel more scenery down with his teeth as both Eddie Brock and his fanged, towering alien symbiote while Woody Harrelson will fulfill his destiny and play Cletus Kasady, aka Carnage, the perfected hybrid of psychopathic serial killer and red pile of vicious alien goo. Let the carnage begin!
Top Gun: Maverick
July 2
It’s been 34 years since Tom Cruise first soared through the skies as hotshot pilot Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, and he’ll take to the air once more in a sequel that also features Val Kilmer, Jennifer Connelly, Miles Teller, Jon Hamm, and more. The flying and action sequences from director Joseph Kosinski (who worked with Cruise on Oblivion) will undoubtedly be first-rate, but the studio (Paramount) has to be nervous after seeing one nostalgia-based franchise after another (Blade Runner, Charlie’s Angels, Terminator, The Shining) crash and burn recently.
Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings
July 10
With Shang-Chi, Marvel Studios hopes to do for Asian culture what the company did with the groundbreaking Black Panther nearly three years ago: create another superhero epic with a non-white lead and a mythology steeped in a non-Western culture. Simu Liu stars in the title role as the “master of kung fu,” who must do battle with the nefarious Ten Rings organization and its leader, the Mandarin (the “real” one, not the imposter from Iron Man 3, played here by the legendary Tony Leung). Director Destin Daniel Cretton (Just Mercy) will open up a whole new corner of the Marvel Cinematic Universe with this story and character, whose origins stretch back to 1973.
The Forever Purge
July 9
One day nearly eight years ago, you went to see a low-budget dystopian sci-fi/horror flick called The Purge, and the next thing you know, it’s 2021 and you’re getting ready to see the fifth and allegedly final entry in the series (which has also spawned a TV show). Written by creator James DeMonaco and directed by Everardo Gout, the film will once again focus on the title event, an annual 12-hour national bacchanal in which all crime, even murder, is legal. How this ends the story, and where and when it falls into the context of the rest of the films, remains a secret for now. Filming was completed back in February 2020, with the film’s release delayed from last summer by the COVID-19 pandemic.
Space Jam: A New Legacy
July 16
There are two types of folks when it comes to the original Space Jam of 1996: those who were between the ages of three and 11 when it came out, and everyone else. In one camp it is an unsightly relic of ‘90s cross-promotional cheese; in the other, it’s a sports movie classic. Luckily for kids today, NBA star LeBron James was 11 for most of ’96, and he’s bringing back the hoops and the Looney Tunes in Space Jam: A New Legacy.
The film will be among the many Warner Bros. pics premieres on HBO Max and in theaters this year, and it will see King James share above-the-title credits with Bugs Bunny. All is as it should be.
Uncharted
July 16
An Uncharted movie has been a long time coming. How long you might ask? Well, when the idea of an Uncharted movie first started getting bandied around Hollywood, the earliest game in the series just launched to rave reviews in the PlayStation 3’s first year. We’re now on PlayStation 5(!), and Mark Wahlberg has gone from angling to play young hero Nathan Drake to starring his wisecracking sidekick, Victor “Sully” Sullivan.
Still, we’re here with an Uncharted movie finally in the can. Directed by Ruben Fleischer (Zombieland, Venom), the video game movie stars everyone’s favorite web-head, Tom Holland, as Drake, a pseudo-modern day Indiana Jones. Whether it lives up to that older franchise’s storied legacy remains to be seen (especially given its gaming roots), but one thing’s for sure, Holland will get to show off more gymnast skill thanks to Uncharted’s famous parkour iconography.
The Tomorrow War
July 23
An original IP attempting to be a summer blockbuster? As we live and breathe. The Tomorrow War marks director Chris McKay’s first foray into live-action after helming The Lego Batman Movie. The film stars Chris Pratt as a soldier from the past who’s been “drafted by scientists” to the present in order to fight off an alien invasion overwhelming our future’s military. One might ask why said scientists didn’t use their fancy-schmancy time traveling shenanigans to warn about the impending aliens, but here we are.
Jungle Cruise
July 30
Disney dips into its theme park rides again as a source for a movie, hoping that the Pirates of the Caribbean lightning will strike once more. This time it’s the famous Adventureland riverboat ride, which is free enough of a real narrative that one has to wonder why some five screenwriters (at least) worked on the movie’s script.
Jaume Collet-Serra (The Shallows) directs stars Dwayne Johnson and Emily Blunt down this particular river, as they battle wild animals and a competing expedition in their search for a tree with miraculous healing powers. The comic chemistry between Johnson and Blunt is key here, especially if they really can mimic Bogie and Hepburn in the similarly plotted The African Queen. If they can sell that, Disney might just have a new water-based franchise to replace their sinking Pirates ship.
The Green Knight
July 30
David Lowery, the singular director behind A Ghost Story and The Old Man & the Gun, helmed a fantasy adaptation of the Arthurian legend of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. And his take on the material was apparently strong enough to entice A24 to produce it. Not much else is yet known about the film other than its cast, which includes Dev Patel, Alicia Vikander, Ralph Ineson, and Kate Dickie–and that it’s another casualty of COVID, with its 2020 release date being delayed last year. So this is one we’re definitely going to keep an eye on.
The Suicide Squad
August 6
Arguably the most high-profile of the WB films being transitioned to HBO Max, The Suicide Squad is James Gunn’s soft-reboot of the previous one-film franchise. It’s kind of funny WB went in that direction when the first movie generated more than $740 million, but when the reviews and word of mouth were that toxic… well, you get the guy who did Guardians of the Galaxy to fix things.
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Peacemaker: Suicide Squad Spinoff With John Cena Coming to HBO Max
By Mike Cecchini
Movies
The Suicide Squad Trailer Promises James Gunn’s “1970s War Movie”
By David Crow
Elements from the original movie are still here, most notably Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn and Viola Davis’ Amanda Waller, but the film promises to be weirder, meaner, and also sillier. The first points are proven by its expected R-rating, and the latter is underscored by its giant talking Great White Shark. Okay, we’ll bite.
Deep Water
August 13
Seedy erotic thrillers and neo noirs bathed in shadows and sex are largely considered a thing of the past—specifically 1980s and ‘90s Hollywood cinema. Maybe that’s why Deep Water hooked Adrian Lyne (Fatal Attraction, Indecent Proposal) to direct. The throwback is based on a 1957 novel by the legendary Patricia Highsmith (The Talented Mr. Ripley), and it pits a disenchanted married couple against each other, with the bored pair playing mind games that leave friends and acquaintances dead. That the couple in question is played by Ben Affleck and Ana de Armas, who’ve since become a real life item, will probably get plenty of attention close to release.
Respect
August 13
Respect is the long-awaited biopic of the legendary Aretha Franklin, with the Queen of Soul herself involved in its development for years until her death in August 2018. Authorized biopics always make one wonder how accurate the film will be, but then again, Aretha had nothing to be ashamed of. Hers was a life well-lived, her voice almost beyond human comprehension, and the only thing now is to see whether star Jennifer Hudson (Franklin’s personal choice) and director Liesl Tommy (making her feature debut) can do the Queen justice.
Candyman
August 27
In some ways it’s surprising that it’s taken this long—28 years, notwithstanding a couple of sequels—to seriously revisit the original Candyman. Director Bernard Rose’s original adaptation of the Clive Baker story, “The Forbidden,” is still relevant and effective today. Back then, the film touched on urban legends, poverty, and segregation: themes that are still ripe for exploration through a genre touchstone today.
After her breathtaking feature directorial debut, Little Woods, Nia DaCosta helmed this bloody reboot while working from a screenplay co-written by Jordan Peele (Get Out). That’s a powerful combination, even before news came down DaCosta was helming Captain Marvel 2. And with an actor on-the-cusp of mega-stardom, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, picking up Tony Todd’s gnarly hook, this is one to watch out for.
The Beatles: Get Back
August 27
Peter Jackson seems to enjoy making films about what inspired him in his youth: The Lord of the Rings, King Kong, his grandfather’s World War I service informing They Shall Not Grow Old. So perhaps it was inevitable he’d make a film about the greatest youth icon of his generation, the Beatles. In truth, The Beatles: Get Back is a challenge to a previous documentary named Let It Be, and the general pop culture image it painted.
That 1970 doc by Michael Lindsay-Hogg zeroed in on the band’s final released album, Let It Be (although it was recorded before Abbey Road). Now, using previously unseen footage, Jackson seeks to challenge the narrative that the album was created entirely from a place of animosity among the bandmates, or that the Beatles had long lost their camaraderie by the end of road. Embracing the original title of the album, “Get Back,” Jackson wants to get back to where he thinks the band’s image once belonged.
Death on the Nile
September 17
Murder on the Orient Express (2017) became a surprise hit for director and star Kenneth Branagh. Who knew that audiences would still be interested in an 83-year-old mystery novel about an eccentric Belgian detective with one hell of a mustache? Luckily, Agatha Christie featured Poirot in some 32 other novels, of which Death on the Nile is one of the most famous, so here we are.
Branagh once again directs and stars as Poirot, this time investigating a murder aboard a steamer sailing down Egypt’s famous river. The cast includes Gal Gadot, Armie Hammer, Letitia Wright, Tom Bateman, Ali Fazal, Annette Bening, Rose Leslie, and Russell Brand. Expect more lavish locales, scandalous revelations, the firing of a pistol or two, and, yes, more shots of that stunning Poirot facial hair.
The Many Saints of Newark
September 24
The idea of a prequel to anything always fills us with trepidation, and re-opening a nearly perfect property like The Sopranos makes the prospect even less appetizing. But Sopranos creator David Chase has apparently wanted to explore the back history of his iconic crime family for some time, and there certainly seems to be a rich tapestry of characters and events that have only been hinted at in the series.
Directed by series veteran Alan Taylor (Thor: The Dark World), The Many Saints of Newark stars Alessandro Nivola as Dickie Moltisanti (Christopher’s father), along with Jon Bernthal, Vera Farmiga, Corey Stoll, Ray Liotta, and others. But the most fascinating casting is that of Michael Gandolfini—James’ son—as the younger version of the character with which his late dad made pop culture history. For that alone, we’ll be there on opening night… even if that just means HBO Max!
Dune
October 1
Could third time be the charm for Frank Herbert’s complex novel of the far future, long acknowledged as one of the greatest—if most difficult to read—milestones in all of science fiction? David Lynch’s 1984 version was, to be charitable, an honorable mess, while the 2000 Sci-Fi Channel miniseries was decent and faithful, but limited in scope. Now director Denis Villeneuve (Blade Runner 2049, Arrival) is pulling out all the stops—even breaking the story into two movies to give the proper space.
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Movies
Dune Trailer Breakdown and Analysis
By Mike Cecchini
Movies
What Alejandro Jodorowsky Thinks of the New Dune Trailer
By Mike Cecchini and 1 other
On the surface, the plot is simple: as galactic powers vie for control of the only planet that produces a substance capable of allowing interstellar flight, a young messiah emerges to lead that planet’s people to freedom. But this tale is dense with multiple layers of politics, metaphysics, mysticism, and hard science.
Villeneuve has assembled a jaw-dropping cast, including Timothée Chalamet, Rebecca Ferguson, Oscar Isaac, Josh Brolin, Stellan Skarsgård, Dave Bautista, Zendaya, Charlotte Rampling, Jason Momoa, and Javier Bardem, and if he pulls this off, just hand him every sci-fi novel ever written. Particularly, if relations between the director and WB remain strained…
Morbius
October 8
Following the monstrous (pun intended) success of Venom, Sony Pictures is making its second attempt to mine Spider-Man’s universe of villains with the dark tale of Dr. Michael Morbius (Jared Leto), whose efforts to cure himself of a fatal blood disease turn him instead into a blood-drinking anti-hero. Morbius has been lurking around the Marvel Comics canon since 1971, often either sparring or teaming with Spidey, and it remains uncertain whether he’s got the cache to carry a movie on his own. In addition, can Leto wash away the bad taste left behind by his tattooed and grilled Joker in Suicide Squad?
Halloween Kills
October 15
2018’s outstanding reboot of the long-running horror franchise—which saw David Gordon Green (Stronger) direct Jamie Lee Curtis in a reprise of her most famous role—was a tremendous hit. So in classic Halloween fashion, two more sequels were put into production (the second, Halloween Ends, will be out in 2022… hopefully).
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Halloween: A Legacy Unmasked
By David Crow
Movies
How Jason Blum Changed Horror Movies
By Rosie Fletcher
Curtis is back as Laurie Strode, along with Judy Greer as her daughter, Andi Matichak as her granddaughter, and Nick Castle sharing Michael Myers duties with James Jude Courtney. Kyle Richards and Charles Cyphers, meanwhile, will reprise their roles as Lindsey Wallace and former sheriff Leigh Brackett from the original 1978 Halloween (Anthony Michael Hall will play the adult version of Tommy Doyle). The plot remains a mystery, but we’re pretty sure it will involve yet another confrontation between Laurie and a rampaging Myers.
The Last Duel
October 15
What was once among the most anticipated films of 2020, The Last Duel is the historical epic prestige project marked by reunions: Ridley Scott returns to his passion for period drama and violence; Matt Damon and Ben Affleck work together for the first time in ages as both actors and writers; and the film also unites each with themes that were just as potent in the medieval world as today: One knight (Damon) in King Charles VI’s court accuses another who’s his best friend (Adam Driver) of raping his wife (Jodie Comer). Oh, and Affleck plays the King of France.
With obviously harrowing—and uncomfortable—themes that resonate today, The Last Duel is based on an actual trial by combat from the 14th century, and is a film Affleck and Damon co-wrote with Nicole Holofcener (Can You Ever Forgive Me?). It’s strong material, and could prove to be one of the year’s most riveting or misjudged films. Until then, it has our full attention.
Snake Eyes: G.I. Joe Origins
October 22
While the idea of a Hasbro Movie Universe seems to be kind of idling at the moment, corners of that hypothetical cinematic empire remain active. One such brand is G.I. Joe, which will launch its first spin-off in this origin story of one of the team’s most popular characters. Much of his early background remains mysterious, so there’s room to create a fairly original story while incorporating lore and characters already established in the G.I. Joe mythos.
Neither of the previous G.I. Joe features (The Rise of Cobra and Retaliation) have been much good, so we can probably expect the same level of quality from this one. Director Robert Schwentke (the last two Divergent movies) doesn’t inspire much excitement either. On the other hand, Henry Golding (Crazy Rich Asians) will star in the title role, and having Iko Uwais (The Raid) and Samara Weaving (Ready or Not) on board isn’t too bad either.
Eternals
November 5
Based on a Marvel Comics series by the legendary Jack Kirby, the now long-forthcoming Eternals centers around an ancient race of powerful beings who must protect the Earth against their destructive counterparts (and genetic cousins), the Deviants. Director Chloe Zhao (fresh off the awards season buzzy Nomadland) takes her first swing at epic studio filmmaking, working with a cast that includes Angelina Jolie, Gemma Chan, Kit Harington, Salma Hayek, Richard Madden, Brian Tyree Henry, and more.
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Movies
Upcoming Marvel Movies Release Dates: MCU Phase 4 Schedule, Cast, and Story Details
By Mike Cecchini and 1 other
Movies
The Incredible Hulk’s Diminished Legacy in the Marvel Cinematic Universe
By Gavin Jasper
In many ways, Eternals represents another huge creative risk for Marvel Studios: It’s a big, cosmic ensemble film introducing an ensemble that the vast majority of the public has never heard of. But then, it’s sort of in the same position as Guardians of the Galaxy from way back in 2014, and we all know what happened there.
Elvis
November 5
Obviously we’ve all seen musical biopics before—too many after Walk Hard broke the formula down—but Elvis promises to be something different. A new passion project from Baz Luhrmann, the filmmaker behind Moulin Rouge!, Romeo + Juliet, and The Great Gatsby, Elvis is expected to be a radically stylized account of Elvis Presley’s rise to all shook up fame. With an impressive cast that includes Tom Hanks as manager “Colonel” Tom Parker and Kelvin Harrison Jr. as B.B. King, and with up-and-comer Austin Butler as the King of Rock and Roll himself, it should be a hell of a show.
King Richard
November 19
Will Smith’s King Richard promises to be a different kind of biographical film coming down the pipe. Rather than being told from the vantage of professional tennis playing stars Venus and Serena Williams, King Richard centers on their father and coach, Richard Williams. It’s an interesting choice to focus on the male father instead of the game-changing Black daughters, but we’ll see if there’s a strong creative reason for the approach soon enough. The film is directed by Reinaldo Marcus Green (Monsters and Men, Joe Bell).
Mission: Impossible 7
November 19
Once upon a time, the appeal of the Mission: Impossible movies was to see different directors offer their own take on Tom Cruise running through death-defying stunts. But then Christopher McQuarrie had to come along and make the best one in franchise history (twice). First there was Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation and then Mission: Impossible – Fallout. Now McQuarrie and company have set up their own separate quartet of films with recurring original characters like new franchise MVP Ilsa Faust (Rebecca Ferguson) across four films.
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Movies
Audio Surfaces of Tom Cruise Raging on the Set of Mission: Impossible 7
By Kirsten Howard
Movies
Mission: Impossible 7 – What’s Next for the Franchise?
By David Crow
Thus enters M:I7, the third McQuarrie joint in the series and first half of a pair of incoming sequels filmed together. The first-half of this two-parter sees the whole crew back together, including Cruise’s Ethan Hunt, Ilsa, Benji (Simon Pegg), Luther (Ving Rhames), and CIA Director Erika Sloane (Angela Bassett). They’re also being joined by Hayley Atwell and Pom Klementieff, but really we’re all just eager to see what kind of insane stunts they can do to top the HALO jump in the last one.
West Side Story
December 10
Steven Spielberg has just two remakes on his directorial resume: Always (1989) and War of the Worlds (2005). While the former is mostly forgotten and the latter was an adaptation of a story that has been filmed many times, his upcoming reimagining of West Side Story will undoubtedly be directly compared to Robert Wise’s iconic 1961 screen version of this classic musical.
A few numbers in previous films aside, Spielberg has never directed a full-blown musical before, let alone one associated with such powerhouse songs and dance numbers. His version, with a script by Tony Kushner, is said to stay closer to the original Broadway show than the 1961 film—but with its themes of love struggling to cross divides created by hate and bigotry, don’t be surprised if it’s just as hard-hitting in 2021. Certainly would’ve devastated last year….
Spider-Man 3
December 17
Sony has finally gotten to a “Spider-Man 3” again in their oft-rebooted franchise crown jewel (technically though this film is still untitled). That proved to be a stumbling block the first time it occurred with Tobey Maguire in the red and blues, but the company seems undaunted since Tom Holland’s third outing is expected to bring Maguire back—him and just about everyone else too.
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Movies
Spider-Man 3: Charlie Cox Daredevil Return Would Redeem the Marvel Netflix Universe
By Joseph Baxter
Movies
Spider-Man 3 Adds Benedict Cumberbatch’s Doctor Strange
By Joseph Baxter
With a multiverse plot ripped straight from the arguably best Spidey movie ever, 2018’s Into the Spider-Verse, Holland’s third outing is bringing back Maguire, Andrew Garfield’s Spider-Man, Alfred Molina as Doc Ock, Jamie Foxx as Electro (eh), and probably more. It’s a Spidey crossover extravaganza that’s only missing a Spider-Ham. But just you wait…
The Matrix 4
December 22
Rebooting or continuing The Matrix series has always been a tough proposition. While the original Matrix film is one of the landmark achievements in science fiction and early digital effects filmmaking in the 1990s, its sequels were… less celebrated. In fact, directors Lily and Lana Wachowski were publicly wary about the idea of ever going back to the series. And yet, here we are with Lana (alone) helming a project that’s been a longtime priority for Warner Bros.
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Movies
The Matrix 4: Laurence Fishburne “Wasn’t Invited” to Reprise Morpheus Role
By John Saavedra
Movies
The Matrix 4 Already Happened: Revisiting The Matrix Online
By John Saavedra
The Matrix 4 also brings back Keanu Reeves, Carrie-Anne Moss, and Jada Pinkett Smith. This is curious since Reeves and Moss’ characters died at the end of the Matrix trilogy—and also because Laurence Fishburne’s Morpheus did not, yet he wasn’t asked back. We cannot say we’re thrilled about the prospect of more adventures in Zion after the disappointment of the first two sequels, but we’d be lying if we didn’t admit we’re still curious to see the story that brought Lana back to this future.
The French Dispatch
TBA
Wes Anderson has a new film coming out. Better still, it is another live-action film. While Anderson’s use of animation is singular, it’s been seven years since The Grand Budapest Hotel, which we maintain is one of the best movies of the last decade. Anderson  is working with Timothée Chalamet and Cristoph Waltz for the first time with this film, as well as several familiar faces including Saoirse Ronan, Willem Dafoe, Tilda Swinton, Léa Seydoux, Adrien Brody, Owen Wilson, Jason Schwartzman, and, of course, Bill Murray.
The French Dispatch is set deep in the 20th century during the peak of modern journalism, it brings to life a series of fictional stories in a fictional magazine, published in a fictional French city. We suspect though, if Anderson’s last two live-action movies are any indication, it’ll have more than fiction on its mind–especially since it’s inspired by actual New Yorker stories, and the journalists who wrote them! We missed it in 2020, so here’s hoping it really does go to print in 2021!
Other interesting movies that may come out in 2021 but do not yet have release dates: Next Goal Wins, Don’t Worry Darling, Nightmare Alley, Antlers, Blonde, The Northman, Resident Evil, Red Notice, Those Who Wish Me Dead, Army of the Dead.
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asterian · 4 years
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Back to you (Captain Rex x reader) (Rebels)
Summary: In a mission to recover information about locations for a possible base, You and the Ghost crew are sent to Seelos to find a potential new ally, but you never expected it to be him.
Words: 1, 672
A/n: Hi, thanks for reading my trash. I felt like my husband needed some love so here we are. Also this happens in Rebels s2e2 "The lost commanders" and reader has Kanan's age.
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Being part of the Ghost crew involved to be constantly on the move, always hiding and running from the Empire but it gave you the opportunity to help others and that made you feel like you were doing something good with your life, plus they had become your family.
After realizing you were part of a larger rebellion against the Empire and with the lost of the Phoenix home in Lothal, it was imperative to find a base where to hide. That's how you and the Spectres ended up in the outer rim searching for Ahsoka's friend. 
The flight was boring with nothing to look at but plain desert everywhere, until the tactical droid detected something nearby, an old republic modified AT-TE walker.
After landing Kanan told you to stay on the ship and fix the communications while the rest of the team went to investigate. 
You started to work in the ship but there was something stuck in your head, a number you knew, the same number the tactical droid repeated non-stop, the same number that leaded you here, "7567". Could it be… could it be him?
The sound of blasters woke you from your thoughts and quickly you rushed outside the little ship hoping your friends weren't in trouble but after seeing they were fine you stared at the three men in the tank and froze instantly when you caught a familiar gaze.
If you had your suspicions about who was the person you were looking for before, this just confirmed it. Even though he looked a bit different from the last time you saw him, you knew it was him, how? by his eyes. 
Maker, you could recognize those beautiful golden eyes anywhere in the galaxy.
"Nice to meet you ...7567" you heard Ezra and suddenly your mind snapped back to reality.
"Rex" you said without thinking making everyone turn around to see you "his name is Rex" 
"Wait, you know him?" Kanan asked you as you get closer to them. You gave him a happy nod in response.
"(Y/n)?" Rex recognized you instantly once you were beside your friends,  after all you hadn't changed that much, you were as beautiful as he remembered you. 
The captain hurried to get down of the tank and you could swear your heart was going to get out of your chest while he was walking towards you. 
He looked so different and yet for you he was still the same man you knew a long time ago, the man you fell in love with. 
Stars, you had missed this man so much you couldn't help but put him in a tight hug once he was in front of you.
"it's you!" you happily said holding him closer. Rex laughed putting his arms around your waist and lifting you up until your legs were wrapped around his waist, foreheads resting together.
"It's me, cyare" he assured you.
You heard Kanan cleaning his throat and both you quickly let go of each other.
"Cyare?" Sabine mumbled recognising her language.
"You guys need a moment?" asked Zeb in a teasing tone, making your cheeks go a little red.
"Sorry, it's just… I haven't seen (y/n) in a very long time" Rex explained rubbing the back of his head. Owning a raised eyebrow from everyone.
"Well, what are you waiting for? bring them in!" screamed Gregor from the walker saving you from further questions.
•••
Later that day you and the team agreed to help the clones hunt a Joopa as payment for the intelligence they had. It  gave you enough time to catch up with Rex.
"Whose idea was this?" you asked Rex as you were leaning on a railing, the captain chuckled and pointed at Gregor on the other side of the walker who was happily cheering Zeb. Both of you laughed and  shaked your heads at his brother.
"So you found your brothers" you noted remembering why your paths parted years ago.
"Yeah.. took me some time" he said looking at your friends across the tank "you join the cause" 
"Yup" you proudly said following his contemplating stare "and I found them too, my new family"
"They seem to be good people" he said looking back at you "but I'm not sure Kanan trust me" 
"Give him a time" you suggested "he just needs to make sure that what happened to his master, to the Jedi, is not going to happen to us"
"Understood, sir" he said in a playful tone that only made you roll your eyes "thanks for the advice" 
You nudged him and both giggled like the old times. It was a relief knowing his humor sense was still the same.
"You know, when Ahsoka send us on this mission I never thought it would be you the person we were looking for. I'm glad it's you"
He smiled softly at you and  you took a minute to appreciate the features of your old lover. He looked so different now and yet he was still the same man you loved so dearly.
 Flashes of his younger self filled your mind. You remembered the very short blond hair you used to run your fingers, his golden eyes and always clean shaved jaw. His features now hidden behind a silver, surprisingly soft beard.
He had aged fastly, just like he told you he would, clones were engineered to grow twice as fast, however you couldn't see him like an old man, it was just him, the Rex you adored and the more you looked at him the more you fell once again for him.
"What is it (y/n)?" Rex asked raising an eyebrow.
"I never thought I'd see you with beard" you confessed owning a chuckle form the captain. Then you raised a hand and stroked his beard a bit, trying to get used to it. Rex leaned in your hand and closed his eyes for a second enjoying your sweet touch "I like it… suits you"
"Well, had I known that you would like it so much, I would have let it grow earlier" he teased and both laughed at his comment, unconsciously moving closer to each other until you collided with his armor. Both of you stayed quiet for a moment realizing the closeness, but not pulling away.
"You have no idea of how much I missed you, (y/n)". he confessed tucking a lock of hair behind your ear before caressing your cheek,  making your heart beat faster with every second past.
"I missed you too, Rex" you breathed. 
He carefully lifted your chin up and pulled you closer until your lips were on his, sending a wave of electricity all along your spine as he kissed you slowly at first and then desperately as if he was afraid you might vanish. There were no need for words, it was obvious that both still loved each other.
Eventually you pulled away in need of air, he rested his forehead on yours while both catched your breath, smiling softly at each other. 
"(Y/n), you did fix the communications,right?" you heard Kanan scream from where he was, interrupting the moment between you and the Captain.
"Karabast" you whispered and Rex chuckled "I'm on it!" you yelled and gave Rex a light kiss before you rushed to the ship.
The Captain walked over to the front of the walker with the rest of the team that were concentrated, mostly bored and tired of the hunting.
"So… how did you guys meet? You and (y/n)?" Ezra asked when he saw Rex lean on a nearby rail.
"It was five years after the end of the clone wars" Rex started "I was lost in a planet where the people didn't exactly like clones,  without food, weapons or credits" 
"A planet that doesn't like clones? Should I buy property there?" Kanan said with his sarcastic voice owning a look from Ezra who was quietly paying attention to the captain's story. 
"Hey, don't be mean!" said the blue haired boy "what happened then?"
"She saved my life" Rex told them "she helped me when no one else did" he smiled at the memory "we were together for almost two years until we decided to take different ways"
"It sounds like you two were really close" spoke Sabine from the roof the ship. "You called her 'cyare' "
"What does that mean?" asked confused Ezra, making the clone Captain blush a bit.
"Beloved" responded Rex without hesitation "it means 'beloved'
"I hate to be the one asking this" added Kanan walking closer "but why didn't you stay with her?"
The captain sighed deeply before answering to the Jedi.
"I wanted to find my brothers, move to some neutral system and have a peaceful life, no more fighting, no more war" he paused for a second "she wanted to fight, do something with her life more than just steal things, she wanted to help others"
"You loved her, right?" Ezra asked without hesitation. This kid was wild.
Rex suddenly saw you coming out of the ship and lean against the door frame with that pretty smile of yours that always made his heart soft.
"I still do, kid, I still do" 
•••
After a lot of effort and teamwork, you finally managed to capture the giant worm Gregor was so excited about. It was a good day, all things considered, the mission to get the data for the base was more than done and hunting the  Joopa was quite a thing, but most importantly you reunited with Rex that somehow managed to convince the Ghost crew to stay for dinner.
You both kept close to each other all the time, sharing slight delicate brushing of hands and exchanging loving gazes. 
While the crew had dinner tasting the rich flavor of the hunt of the day and shared stories you watched Rex sitting across the table. You stared at him with longing and hope, feeling that your world was complete again with this man by your side.
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keldae · 6 years
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Drastic Measures (Chapter Four)
Carbonite had not been a dreamless sleep, nor had it involved the regular, mundane dreams of a normal person. Xaja had spent the entire nightmare sequence running, and fighting… watching her crew be cut down by Skytroopers while she stood by, helpless to interfere; seeing the life fade out of Master Satele’s eyes as her twin blades pierced the Grand Master through the stomach; striking down Darth Imperius and watching Cipher Nine and the Voidhound both draw blasters on her- that one had made her scream in the nightmare as she’d fallen back from her baby brother’s robe-clad body, his eyes staring up at her accusingly. Master Satele’s execution at her hand could be chalked up as a nightmare that Valkorion- Vitiate- whateverthehellhisnamewas’s lingering voice in her mind seemed to bring about. But the murder of her little brother? Her father and other brother drawing weapons on her? That was a step too far.
The dream shifted, and Xaja stood in a dark chamber, adorned with red banners. A blonde-haired woman bent over a desk piled high with reports, golden eyes looking drained of the will to fight. Lana? Another shift- she was in a narrow alley, and a dark-haired man was walking past her, pausing long enough to set a charge on the wall. He lingered long enough to pull a detonator out of his pocket and turn it over in his hands contemplatively, and Xaja screamed Theron’s name. Don’t do this, Theron, please don’t!
Theron stubbornly shook his head and moved his thumb over the trigger button, and the nightmare shifted. She stood on Ziost’s ashes, and Vitiate’s spectre loomed ahead of her. He opened his mouth to say something, then suddenly looked up as the planet started to crumble around them, fury darkening his expression. Xaja whirled as Ziost fell into darkness, dragging her down with it, down down down-
Her eyes flashed open, and she had to fight to not throw up. Just a dream… just a dream… carbonite makes you dream weird things. You’d never kill Sorand or Master Satele. Theron would never do… that. She couldn’t bring herself to name what she suspected the Theron in her dream had been doing. And that dream ended when you fell into Theron’s arms- literally. The Emperor’s dead, he can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe, you’re with Theron, you’re okay… She craned her neck to take a look down at her rebellious body and frowned. Mostly okay. Maybe.
It was their third day in hyperspace, fleeing as far from Zakuul as Theron could push his shuttle’s fuel supply. Xaja had come to the conclusion during the second day that something was wrong; when the dizziness hadn’t gone away even after eating and resting, when her muscles kept seizing painfully, when her head ached if she tried to meditate for longer than a few minutes. Her connection to the Force felt fuzzy and weak, and she was pretty sure that wasn’t due to being in hyperspace.
If she was worried, Theron was terrified and valiantly trying to hide it. He’d spent the time pacing between the navicomputer, the pilot’s console, and Xaja’s side, apparently afraid to take his eyes off of her. His original plan had been to help her vanish somewhere in Hutt Space where he was reasonably sure there were a few exiled Jedi survivors hiding out; now he was considering detouring somewhere along the way to find a medic or a healer who wouldn’t ask too many questions. “Most people coming out of carbonite don’t have symptoms like this days after being thawed,” he’d said while she’d been fending off another muscle spasm in her shoulder. “Any side effects should have gone away within the first forty-eight hours. These are just getting worse.” Xaja didn’t want to know how Theron knew so much about carbonite sickness. It was probably something he’d come across during his career as a spy, but she really didn’t want to think about it.
She very carefully stood up from the chair she’d been sitting in and held onto the headrest until the wave of dizziness had past. Maybe if I can get some sunlight and fresh air, it’ll help with at least the vertigo? The Jedi carefully made her way through the shuttle to the pilot’s chair and wrapped her arms around Theron’s shoulders from behind. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” Theron looked up and smiled, although there was tension in his mouth and eyes that Xaja couldn’t loosen from him. He reached up and took her hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. “How are you feeling?”
“Nothing’s twitching and my head’s not exploding, so better.” Xaja brushed a kiss over Theron’s temple, just above his implants. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Some.” The bags under Theron’s eyes indicated that he was probably lying. He looked away from Xaja’s skeptically-raised eyebrow and back to the hyperspace tunnel that they’d been flying through for three days. “We’re well into the distant Outer Rim. Zakuul does have a reach out here, but it’s less than in other regions. With any luck, we’ll be able to stay off of Arcann’s radar.”
“Do you think he’ll put up a public notice about us?” Xaja asked with a worried frown.
“On the one hand, he’s never said anything about keeping you as a prisoner, so most of the galaxy thinks you’re already dead. On the other side, I get the feeling he’d do just about anything to recapture you and save face.” Theron frowned in contemplation. “Even if there’s no public bounty postings or arrest warrants, he’ll have agents hidden throughout the galaxy. He’s not just gonna let this slide, Xaja- you’re going to be hunted, one way or another.”
“Hmmph.” Xaja rested her cheek against Theron’s hair and twitched her nose as his fauxhawk tickled her skin. “And the only way I’m getting out of that will be to work out a truce or take Arcann down myself.”
“I don’t think he’ll be keen on negotiating.” Theron sighed and squeezed her hands again. “Well, you’ve already killed his father twice, and Revan once, plus a few other particularly-powerful Sith and a handful of giant rancors, survived bickering with two members of the Dark Council at the same time, and yelled at Saresh to her face. Wiping the floor with one half-metal tyrant shouldn’t be a problem for you.” He looked back at her for that and grinned.
Xaja laughed, although the laugh suddenly turned into a wheeze as another spasm tore through her slim frame. Her diaphragm contracted painfully, making her double over and struggle to breathe. Theron’s grin fell off his face as he lurched out of his seat and grabbed her arms. “Xaja, breathe. Where is it hitting now?”
The redhead pressed her hand against her ribcage and tried to not panic as her lungs refused to cooperate with her. “Can’t…” she gasped out. “Breathe…”
Theron loudly swore as Xaja felt herself fall to her knees, and dropped with her. “No, don’t you do this to me, not now!” He held his hand against her abdomen where Xaja had indicated and tried to ease the painful spasm that had frozen her chest entirely. “Stay with me, I’m not losing you! Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe…”
How could she breathe when it felt like her lungs were being encased in carbonite again? Xaja clung to Theron’s shoulders and tried to gasp in another bit of air. It hurt, and her lungs refused to budge enough for her to breathe properly, and she could see blackness growing at the edges of her vision. Theron swore again, and Xaja could hear the panic in his voice as she felt herself being laid on her back. “No, no, no, don’t do this! I can’t lose you now!” She could see his eyes, wide with fear, but it was through a rapidly narrowing tunnel as his hands gave up on her abdomen and tilted her head back, and she felt his mouth cover hers…
Pain flashed through her lungs as air was forced into her chest and her body remembered how to breathe. Xaja gasped as her lungs finally kicked in, gratefully gulping in precious air and only coughing some of it back out. Her head pounded, and not from the persistent vertigo. Theron stared down at her for a few seconds, as though to make sure she was actually breathing on her own and not dying on him, before he all but snatched her up and held her tightly against his chest. “You’re okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you. Oh, don’t do that to me again…” he mumbled into her hair, his words turning into a nonsensical stream of relieved sounds.
Xaja finally reached up and clung to his arms, burying her head against his neck. “Sorry,” she finally whispered when her breath finally stabilized. She could feel herself shaking like a leaf- or was that Theron shaking as he held her?
“Don’t be.” Theron stubbornly shook his head. “Just… don’t ever do that to me again.” He pulled back to look at her, and his face was ashen when he kissed her and stood up, moving over to the navicomputer. “This just changed our plans…”
“Force, I hope that was just a one-time freak occurrence.” Xaja leaned against the side of the chair and shakily focused on breathing while she watched Theron typing into the console.
“And if it’s not? What if the next one hits your heart instead? What if you don’t recover from the next one?” Theron looked back at Xaja, the fear in his eyes painfully obvious. “You need a doctor, now. Rishi’s the closest inhabited planet to us- we might find someone there.”
“You really think we’ll find someone on Rishi?”
“Hey, even pirates get sick too, right? There’s gotta be somebody.”
Raider’s Cove was still the hopping little outpost it had been when Xaja had last seen it years ago. If anything, she mused as she stepped off the shuttle, it was even busier. Apparently Rishi was becoming a haven for those seeking to stay the hell off Zakuul’s radar. “If all else fails, maybe we can hide in one of the Revanite bases,” she said with a cheeky smirk.
Theron just rolled his eyes at that. “Very funny.”
“What? Remember how hard it was to find their base the last time?”
“No, because I was in the base itself while you were looking for it. First class priority transport and everything. I think they threw me in a crate…”
“… Sorry.”
“’S okay.” Theron wrapped an arm around Xaja’s shoulders and kissed her hair. Anyone watching closely might have noticed that the gesture was as much to keep her upright and against him as it was affectionate. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah. The sunlight feels good.” Xaja tilted her head back to let the sunshine warm her fair skin, feeling a small smile creep over her face. She could barely remember the last time she’d simply been able to stand still and revel in the feeling of sunlight on her skin and warming her hair, or breathe in a gentle, warm breeze (okay, the breeze on Rishi was constantly humid and was already making her hair frizz, but that was beside the point). When was that- when I was back on Tython before getting the summons from Marr? Or that one quick stop we had to make on Coruscant- that sunlight totally counted. Or even the last time I was on Rishi full stop?… how could that have been almost three years ago? The reminder of her two lost years in carbonite sent a pang through her chest.
Theron gave her shoulders a squeeze. “I’ll try to make sure you have every opportunity to enjoy it. You’ve missed out on more than your fair share.” He started walking down the wooden plank-built pedestrian ramps, and Xaja followed along. “Rishi’s turning into the Nar Shaddaa of this section of space. There’s always traffic of the legal and not-so-legal varieties here, and with that comes information and refugees. Odds are there’s bound to be at least one decent medic around here.”
“And if there’s not?” Xaja asked, trying to hide the worry she felt at the idea. She hadn’t had another bad muscle seizure that had nearly killed her (although the lightheadedness and comparatively-minor cramping wouldn’t ease up), but the memory of suffocating as her body rebelled and feeling herself fading out as Theron fought to save her still made her fearful of another attack.
Theron’s mouth tightened grimly. “Then we keep moving until we find someone. I don’t care if that means sneaking onto Dromund Kaas, there has to be someone who knows how to fix whatever this is. Are you sure you don’t remember the Knights injecting you with something before freezing you or making you breathe something or anything like that?”
“I think I would have remembered that if it had happened.” Then again, her memory was proving fuzzy- small details were escaping her recollection more than she wanted to admit. “Maybe I’m just allergic to carbonite?”
“Is that even possible?”
“I don’t know. I’m just throwing out guesses here.” Xaja slipped her arm around Theron’s waist as they started walking through the marketplace. There were several hawkers out selling their wares, and Xaja couldn’t help but give some of the clothing items a longing look. Her clothes were clean and she was wearing them again, but she desperately wanted a change of clothing that would fit her more than Theron’s oversized tee-shirts would.
Theron followed her gaze and nodded. “We’ll get you set up with some new things- sooner than later. Having a different outfit might throw any pursuit off you, at least for a bit.” He let go of her shoulders and slipped a cred stick into her pocket. “Are you gonna be okay by yourself?”
“I should be.” Xaja absently patted the cred stick’s location and made a mental vow to repay Theron somehow for everything. The Zakuulans certainly hadn’t left her with her own credits when they’d frozen her… if nothing else, she’d find a way to mysteriously make a large number of credits appear in Theron’s accounts someday. “I’ll let you know if I’m in trouble.”
“With what comm?” Theron asked, his brow furrowing.
Xaja nearly kicked herself for forgetting she didn’t have her comm anymore, then lightly tapped at her forehead. “If this is okay?” A Jedi could use the Force to contact another, and Xaja was skilled enough with telepathy to be able to reach a Force-blind mind, but Theron had spent his entire life learning how to block that skill. And she wasn’t about to go forcing her way into his mind to get his attention, not when he’d risked everything for her and they had that trust built between them.
The spy hesitated, then slowly nodded. “That’s okay when it’s coming from you. I won’t be far in any case- I’ll poke around and see what I can pull up on a doctor. Yell if you need me.”
“Will do.” Xaja stretched up and kissed Theron’s cheek, earning a smile from him, then headed in the direction of the vendors, leaving Theron to go talk to some of the other locals. Twenty minutes later, she had swapped out her old clothing for a new outfit, sporting a lightly-armoured nondescript jacket that covered her lightsaber hilts, and was walking back out to the causeway. She didn’t see Theron’s bright red jacket anywhere, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything- the colours of the crowd meant that even that jacket could blend in here. She called the Force to herself, grit her teeth against the pressure in her brain that spawned with that, and cast out, seeking the familiar point of light that was him.
There, a few dozen metres away, near to another few lights that were other sentient beings Xaja was unfamiliar with. She barely had time to get the general direction of Theron’s Force-signature before the pain overrode her senses and her connection to the Force fumbled. Oww. Oh, that’s not good. Being in a carbonite coma for two years shouldn’t have… oh, that hurt… what’s a Jedi without the Force? She had the presence of mind to slip behind a stack of crates and out of sight before sinking to her knees as the pain throbbed through her head and all the way down her spine. Breathe. Breathe…
The sharp, stabbing pain in the back of Theron’s head made him flinch, interrupting the conversation he’d been having with a couple of the locals. One, a Korun smuggler who’d decided to set up shop as a bartender, frowned. “Y’ a’right thar? Thought it was your wife ‘s what’s sick.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Theron grunted as he rubbed the back of his head. “Haven’t been sleepin’ well with takin’ care of her an’ all.” Maybe that’s all that was, sleep deprivation. Hopefully once they’d found someone, he’d be able to rest without being terrified of Xaja ceasing to breathe again while he slept. “You sayin’ there’s a medic around what fixes almost everything?”
“Yeh. Th’ doc, he’s good people.” The Korun’s buddy, a curvy, attractive Twi’lek woman, nodded affirmation. “He don’t charge folks what can’t pay for a normal doctor, or gives ‘em a deal, an’ don’t let himself get pushed around none by the gangs out here. An’ I ain’t seen a case yet he ain’t fixed. Whatever’s wrong with yer wife, he’ll fix ‘er up.”
“Thanks.” Theron stepped away from the pair, thinking. They were the third and fourth people to recommend a particular doctor who lived up near the beach, down the way a bit from the Blaster’s Path. There’d been mention of a couple of other passable medics around, but nobody who’d borne as much positive reputation as this doctor. It’s worth a shot. If he takes charity cases, maybe we can convince him to stay silent if he finds out who Xaja is. Blast, it was hard to think around this headache piercing his brain; he focused his mind with an old Jedi meditation trick, trying to accept the pain and let it fade.
It didn’t budge. When Theron frowned and focused on the pain, it felt foreign and yet familiar, like he knew it and yet… it was not his own. What- Xaja? Feeling his heart leap into his throat, he walked back in the direction he’d left Xaja in, focusing. The pain shifted, started to feel like a tug in a particular direction; he dodged around a couple of lazily strolling Rishii natives and rounded a corner, then saw the bright hair behind a pile of crates. “Xaja?” he quietly asked as he crouched in front of her and gently touched her shoulder. Yes, this was the source of the pain he’d felt- what the hell did you do? “What happened?”
Xaja looked up at Theron for a second before looking back down. “So, bad news,” she whispered as she tried to push herself back upright- Theron caught her shoulders before she could move and gently started stroking her hair. “Apparently using the Force isn’t an option anymore.” She winced and leaned into Theron’s touch, pain twisting her features. “Oww.”
“… Oh, kriffing hell, sweetheart.” Theron gently kissed her forehead and frowned, wishing he could do something to make her pain ease. “Just breathe, okay? I’m right here. I might’ve found a good doctor, too- at least he’s got a good reputation around here. We’ll go find him when you think you can stand up.”
“Give me a minute?” Xaja reached up and clung to Theron’s shoulders for a long moment. “I’m trying to not throw up on you.”
“That’s very appreciated,” Theron tried to tease around his worry. “Breathe. Don’t worry about the Force, we’ll see if the doctor can fix your connection to it. If he can’t, we’ll figure something out.” It took several long minutes more before he finally felt Xaja shift to stand up, and made it upright with only a little bit of swaying and leaning on him for support. “Any better at all?”
Xaja started to nod, then thought better of moving her head more than strictly necessary. “No? Yes? It’s hard to tell. I’m upright?”
“That’s a start,” Theron agreed, and tried to hide his concern as he slid his arm back around Xaja’s shoulders and pulled her close against him. “It’s a bit of a walk, but no rush. We’ll take as long as you need to get there.” And I’ll carry you if I have to.
“Okay.” Xaja managed a little smile up at Theron as she leaned into his side and started slowly walking with him. She’d managed to put up enough of a mental shield to spare Theron the brunt of her pain, but he could still sense it radiating from her, and was just impressed she was walking at all. But that mental bond he seemed to have with her, where he could feel her presence in his head as clearly as he could with his body… that gave him questions. How did she form a bond like that with me when I can’t feel the Force at all and she can barely touch it right now?…
“Heh, that one’s a pretty little thing,” mused a burly Zabrak as he and his Togruta buddy skulked in the shadows, comparing notes on the appealing-looking targets they saw in the marketplace. “You don’t see hair like that much at all.”
“Mmm, yeah, an’ her face ain’t bad either.” The Togruta nodded in agreement. “She’d get us a good price on Hutta or Nar Shaddaa.”
“Almost a pity, really,” the Zabrak said. “I’d wanna keep a piece that sweet.”
“No one said we can’t test-ride the new ones first,” the Togruta slaver agreed with a wolfish grin. They watched the pretty redhead slip behind some crates and out of sight. “I gotta see what the Hutts’ll pay for a girl like that.”
“Yeah, you do that. I’m gonna sit here an’ think of how to train this one.” The Zabrak grinned in anticipation as he thought about the pretty redhaired human, and almost missed the human man slipping around the crate to follow her like he knew where she’d gone. “Hmm. We might have t’ kill her boy to get at her-”
“We ain’t sellin’ her to the Hutts,” the Togruta suddenly interrupted, his eyes bulging.
“That mean we’re keepin’ her for us?” The Zabrak’s teeth flashed in a predatory grin.
“No, lookit here.” The Togruta passed over his datapad. “See?”
“Ugh, ‘s from Zakuul, what’re you-”
“Read it, idiot!”
The Zabrak scowled, but the frown turned into a dropped jaw. “The hell’d that girl do t’ make His Royal Assholeness so mad at her? Ain’t no way a pretty little thing like her could be some assassin.”
“Dunno, not our problem.” The Togruta squinted intently as the two humans came out onto the causeway and headed up toward the town proper, the man with his arm protectively around the girl. “An’ lookit the guy with her!”
The Zabrak looked at the images of the two fugitives from Zakuul, then at the couple they were eyeballing. “A hun’red million credits is a nice, tidy sum… an’ two hun’red million credits is even sweeter.”
“An’ there weren’t no condition made of ‘em bein’ in good shape when we sell ‘em to the Zaks. She’ll still gets lots a’ playtime.”
“This is the best day I’ve had in years.” The Zabrak cruelly grinned and stepped out of the shadows. “Go get the boss an’ tell ‘im we just got the payday of our lives. I’ll follow ‘em.”
Xaja was trying so hard to act like she was all right and not draw attention to herself or Theron by visibly betraying her illness. But Theron could feel her grip on his jacket tightening and see her jaw clenching against pain, or feel her leaning into him for support, or trembling under his arm. “Need to stop again?” he murmured as they walked past a large, shady palm tree.
“You said the doctor’s close?” Xaja sounded almost normal, if Theron ignored the tense tone to her voice or how weak she sounded. That migraine was still pounding through her head, and he could sense it. “Let’s just get there. I can make it.”
“Okay.” Theron was dubious that his stubborn little Jedi could actually stay upright and functional for the two hundred more metres the medic was supposed to be found at, but it would draw a lot of attention if he simply picked her up and carried her. It’ll also get attention if she faints or has another spasm, he inwardly mused. It’s still morning, too early for what looks like socially acceptable intoxication.
Then again, this was Rishi, and he suspected people here drank more alcohol than they did water or caf. Maybe he could pass Xaja off as being drunk or high off some classified stimulant if questioned.
The pair slowly made their way to the door that had been identified already as the doctor’s lodgings. Theron walked up, noting Xaja barely staying upright beside him. “Almost there,” he murmured as he squeezed her shoulders comfortingly. “Almost there.”
“I still owe you,” Xaja mumbled as she let Theron tug her into the alcove protecting the door from the elements. “For everything.”
“No, you don’t.” Theron shook his head and guided her to lean against the wall of the alcove. “Hang tight for a sec, I’ll check this guy out before he gets at you.” He raised a hand and knocked at the door, watching Xaja out of the corner of his eye as she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. The tug in his mind that felt like her indicated she was dizzy and still fending off that killer headache, and standing purely on willpower and the support of the wall. I wish I could make this better for you right now…
The door opened, and Theron’s eyes started bulging with the first words he heard in a voice he’d never expected to hear again. “The doctor is in! What can I do for- you!” The other man’s jaw clenched, mustache all but bristling. “You’ve got a hell of a nerve, Shan.”
“Nice to see you too,” Theron growled out. “Miss me?”
Archiban Frodrick Kimble glared at the spy, his hand twitching to where he still carried a blaster pistol on his hip. “It’s not bad enough that you decided to drag Xa- Master Tae- her into your family argument-”
“Hey, the Revanite incident was not my fault! I didn’t ask for a batshit psycho ancestor to-”
“- Then you dragged her to Ziost- and you know how badly that karked her up mentally? She didn’t smile ever after that!”
“Listen, I know I kriffed up there, but-”
“And then she went off on that stars-damned chase and died with the Imps she’d spent her entire life fighting, and where were you to talk her out of it or to back her up?”
“That’s not-! Listen, Kimble, she’s-”
“It’s taken me this long to get over her dying, Shan, and seeing you…”
“Is this about how she turned you down for the fourth time after meeting me?”
“This is not about that, don’t change the subject!”
“Then let me get back to why I’m here, dammit!”
“I do not care if you’re dying of some slow and incurable disease, or if you’ve got a flimsi cut.” Kimble made to slam the door shut. “Go kriff yourself.”
“I’m not the one who needs help!” Theron got his foot and hand in the way of the door, and before the medic could draw his blaster, the spy had reached out for Xaja, and tried to swallow his fear when she struggled to lift her head. She’d been a bit more focused on not passing out than on listening to the argument. “She is!”
Kimble opened his mouth to snarl something else at Theron, then took a look at the tiny redhead in the spy’s company and went white. “No… you’re dead. She’s dead. Not possible.” He whipped around to glare at Theron again. “The hell type of a sick joke are you trying to pull, Shan? I saw that ship go down, there’s no way-”
Xaja finally managed to raise her head and make eye contact with her former crewmember, and Theron lightly shifted his weight to give her a more sturdy support to lean on. “Doc?” she whispered, her eyes widening. “You’re alive?”
Kimble numbly shook his head, grief and denial and maybe a little bit of hope flashing through his eyes. “You can’t be. We looked for you for an entire kriffing year before we gave up…”
“I was in carbonite until less than a week ago.” Xaja offered a weak smile. “I’m not dead- not yet anyway.”
“You’re…” Kimble took a step forward, then froze. “Prove it. How do I know you aren’t-”
“Archiban Frodrick Kimble!” Xaja managed to give him a scowl as Kimble’s eyes widened. “What reason would Theron have to show you an imposter? If that logic’s not enough, I know you take your caf black and intravenously, you secretly love romance holo-flicks, and spent longer in the ‘fresher in the mornings than Kira and I did. Combined.” She was almost standing upright on her own by the time she’d finished telling him off.
“… The mustache takes work, you know.”
“I never understood how one mustache requires more effort than detangling long hair.”
“Neither did Kira.” Kimble finally broke down and lunged forward to catch Xaja in a tight hug. “For kriff’s sake...” He sounded like he was trying to hold back tears.
Xaja clung back to Kimble, and Theron tried to not feel a little possessive- or a little worried when he saw her trembling. “I missed you, Doc.”
“We thought you were gone,” Kimble whispered. “Even Scourge, and we… the invasion… and we didn’t have you to keep us together…”
“I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to not die on-” As though waiting for a perfectly ironic moment, Xaja’s right leg gave out; Theron could almost see the muscle spasm through her pant leg. The Jedi yelped in pain and would have fallen had Theron not jumped in to grab her from behind and Kimble not adjusted to hold her up from the front. “Ow…”
“She’s sick, Kimble,” Theron confessed as the doctor as the other man’s face went pale behind the mustache. “She’s been sick as hell since I rescued her off Zakuul, and I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Kimble looked up at Theron’s words, then back down at Xaja. His brow furrowed in thought, but his lips were twitching in the old charismatic, cocky smirk that Theron remembered from the entire Revanite incident years ago. “Come inside… both of you,” he finally added the last part to Theron when Xaja raised her head to give him a pointed look. “Ol’ Doc will get you fixed up, Red. Just like old times, right?”
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nilesdaughter · 6 years
Text
Love Me Like You Do
Fandom: Mass Effect Characters: Ashlyn Shepard, Kaidan Alenko, Saren (Mention), Hannah Shepard (Mention) Pairing: Shenko Word Count: 991 Note: So...romancing Kaidan in ME1 was definitely an accident. However, it was a very sweet relationship while it lasted, so while it may not be the current ship in my Mass Effect canon, it still deserved a one-shot...I’m also posting this now because I’ve been working on this on-and-off for months at this point, and I’m just tired of looking at it, tbh. Plus, shoutout to @masseffectwritercircle for giving me a set time to work on this nonsense. Also, sorry for skimping out on the naughty parts haha
Ashlyn Shepard valued professionalism. Raised a spacer with both parents serving in the Alliance military, she preferred structure and following the rules. It made life easier, gave everything a sense of place and security.
Eden Prime had thrown that out the window.
While it was an incredible honor to be the first human Spectre, it had actually not been what she had wanted. In truth, Shepard had been planning to stay in the Alliance, wanting to rise through the ranks like her parents before her. She envisioned a long, successful career before retiring, and even then she hoped to continue serving the Alliance as a consultant or ambassador.
This wasn’t like her.
She sighed heavily and put her head between her knees. If they made it back from Ilos without dying first, it would be a goddamned miracle to not be court-martialed. Disobeying Council orders, stealing an Alliance ship…
“Mother will kill me,” she said aloud with another heavy sigh.
“Well, that’s a comforting thought.”
Ashlyn started, and practically jumped to her feet. “Kaidan…!”
“Sorry, Commander. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he replied, holding up his hands in placating gesture.
She grimaced and turned away from him, crossing her arms across her chest. “I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve to be called that right now. I probably shouldn’t even be wearing my uniform.”
“Hey, don’t say that.”
She quirked a brow at him and began to list off the things they could be charged with, ticking off a finger with each one. “Disobeying orders, stealing the Normandy--which, I might add, is an Alliance prototype--technically assault on an politician, and technically kidnapping.” She fixed him with a slight glare. “Would you like to add anything else, Lieutenant?”
“Well, when you put it that way, we’re a damn good example of representing the best of humanity.”
“Kaidan…”
“My apologies, ma’am. Probably not the best time for jokes.”
Ashlyn fixed him with a slight glare, but then lowered her gaze and hugged herself once more. “I’m...still trying to convince myself that we’re doing the right thing, but I don’t think I believe it yet.”
“For the record, none of us would have followed your lead if we didn’t think you were doing the right thing, Commander. No one else listened to us, so we can’t really be faulted for what we’re doing, you know?”
“The brass probably won’t share your way of thinking, though.”
“One can hope,” he replied with a shrug, which drew a slight laugh from Ashlyn. He grinned a little at that before continuing, “I don’t know what we’ll run into on Ilos, but I want you to know...I’ve enjoyed serving under you, ma’am.”
“And I’ve been incredibly lucky to have you on my team, Lieutenant. You’re a good soldier, and I’m sorry to have dragged you into this mess.”
Something in his expression changed and Kaidan stepped up next to Ashlyn, reaching out to take her hands in his. “Commander...Ashlyn...Please understand that I mean this as more than an LT to their commanding officer. I...think about losing you and my chest feels tight. And even though the galaxy and everything in it will keep going...the only things that are important right now are you and me.”
She averted her gaze. “Kaidan...I appreciate the sentiment, but the last thing I want to be charged with is fraternization.”
“I know, I know. Normally, I wouldn’t even bring this up. But...I don’t know.” He sighed, giving her hands a tight squeeze. “Neither of us know how this will end. I suppose I just thought...Well, this may never happen again. Us, I mean.”
Ashlyn remained silent even as she brought her gaze back up to Kaidan’s, blue meeting hazel. Earnesty saturated his expression, a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he seemed to will her to understand that he was sincere. Under normal circumstances, she would never entertain the idea, no matter what he said. She valued her standing with the Alliance too much, had been terrified to lead him on the whole time they had been chasing after Saren. And yet here he stood, his heart on his sleeve.
...Fuck it.
“I think we’re well past the point of caring about regulation, Alenko,” she murmured. “How about you meet me in my cabin in a few minutes?”
A smirk tugged at the corner of Kaidan’s mouth. “Is that an order, Commander?”
She snorted, shaking her head. “Not in the slightest. More of a request. I just...I think you and I might have some things to talk about.” She then kissed his cheek and pulled away.
x-x-x-x-x
As soon as Ashlyn opened the door to let Kaidan in, his lips crashed against hers, clumsy and desperate. She blindly reached for the sensor on the door to close it again, before she reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer even as they began to shuffle towards the bed. When they hit the mattress, they broke apart for a moment, each of them gasping for air. Kaidan started planting kisses along her jaw and down her neck, his hands cold against her abdomen as he worked her T-shirt off.
She shivered and reached down to start doing the same, ignoring the part of her brain that kept trying to tell her this was a bad idea, this was going against all protocol, the last thing she should be doing on top of everything else was starting a relationship in the spur of the moment, she shouldn’t have encouraged him, and what would her mother--
Ashlyn moaned softly as Kaidan planted a soft kiss at the base of her neck.
“So...about that talk…?”
“Later,” she murmured. “Just you and me. That’s all that’s important right now, isn’t it?” she asked, echoing his own words back at him.
Kaidan laughed a little bit. “Yeah…You and me.” He smiled softly and kissed her.
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myhauntedsalem · 5 years
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13 Creepy Camping Encounters That Will Put You off the Great Outdoors
1. The Crying Girl
“When I was younger probably like 10 or 11, I went camping with my family. I’ll just get right into it. It was about 1 or 2 in the morning, and I couldn’t really sleep. The tent me and my brother were in was really hot, and very uncomfortable. Anyway, while I was trying to go to bed I heard a very faint whimper. I tried to ignore it because I figured I was just tired. Our campsite was along a road with many other camps nearby. The whimper started to get louder, and then turned into crying. I heard footsteps outside of our tent, and a girl crying.
Now let me tell you, it didn’t go faint, it got louder and louder. It remained in the same spot the entire time. That’s so important because, it indicates that she was looking at our tent site, crying. It gets worse, then it turned into a full on scream for a few seconds, then cuts out. When she started screaming by brother woke up. We both look at each other and just get all the pillows and stuff our head under them.
I couldn’t sleep at all that night. I’m just glad we left the next morning.” – Keithic
2. The Shaking
“This happened to an acquaintance of mine and his son. This took place back in the early ’90s.
He had taken his young son for a father and son type hike out of Skagway. If any of you are familiar with Skagpatch, there is quite a network of trails above town at lower Dewey lakes.
So, it’s evening, dinner done, tent up, bed time. Sometime later, around midnight, he’s woken up by the tent shaking violently, then silence. Then again. Keep in mind its late August, and pitch black, I mean as pitch black as you can get under the heavy coastal rain forest with no moon.
This shaking kept up for over an hour. He had no idea what it was. He went out with his headlamp, yelled, and heard nothing. Would go back in the tent, then it would start up again. He could here footsteps whenever it happened.
He was pretty shaken up by the next morning as you could imagine.
He reported it to the troopers, and the only thing they could come up with was someone with a night vision set up messing around. Or something else…” – Yukoner
3. The Middle of the Woods
“This happened to me when I was little. I went camping with my older brother and my mom. I was about 7 or 8 and I went to bed around 10 in a sleeping bag inside my tent with both my mom and brother. Some time during the night, I don’t know when, I woke up somewhere in the middle of the woods still in my sleeping bag. I had no idea where I was or where my tent was. I screamed for my mom and I heard her calling back for me in panic but she was easily 100 yards away or so. To this day I have no idea how I ended up in the middle of the woods still inside my sleeping bag. Gives me the chills.” – cckaufmann
4. The Hanging Man
“Hiking the Appalachian Trail in Pennsylvania for a week in…2006 and my brother and I came across a young man who had hung himself. We sprinted up to the bluff where he was strung up. I wrapped my arms around his waist to take weight off his neck while my brother cut him down with his Leatherman. He had thrown the rope up over a tall branch and lashed it off with a clove hitch at the trunk like you’d hang a bear-bag. Must’ve climbed the branches and dropped once laced in. We probably shouldn’t have even tried, he was dead for sometime before we happened across him. Fortunately no critters had come to tear him apart before we found him, it would’ve only gotten grislier from there. Called 911. Ended our trip pretty damn quick.
I don’t know why we tried, it was very obvious he had been dead for some time. Don’t know how long, he was very cold and smelled pretty bad. Intuition to help someone and adrenaline that clouds your judgement I guess? It was kind of a fucked up day so I don’t really remember my thought process.” – Anonymous
5. Scratches
“About one month ago, we are riding a favorite trail up near Camp Verde. Oldest son is leading, youngest is following him, a friend behind him and I am sucking up rear. Come over a hill and I see my youngest son with all of his gear off and his jersey. I came up asking what was wrong, thinking that he crashed, He said his back was burning. I looked and there were three scratches across his back. Looked like claw marks. No blood, but very distinct. He had a chest/back protector on so there is no way a tree branch or anything got him. We finally got him geared back up and headed out. About 30 minutes later, we reached a spot where we always stop for a break. I asked him to take the jersey off so that I could see the scratches again. They were completely gone.” – THB
6. Music in the Night
“A couple of years ago my brother bought a large piece of land out in the middle of nowhere, about thirty miles or so from cell phone reception. It’s quiet, there is no light pollution, no paved roads, and not a lot of people around.
Shortly after he bought the place, two of my brothers (the land owner and another), me, and our families spent a weekend camping on the land and doing our best to clean it up; people had used it as a dump, there were many downed trees, etc. On the second night we camped there, I woke up in the middle of the night to take a leak. As I was walking to the bushes in the dark, I realized that I could faintly hear music. This didn’t strike me as odd because I knew my brother had a radio in his camper. I finished up and went back to sleep with no further thought on the matter.
The next morning at breakfast, I mentioned the radio and music. Several other people recalled waking in the night and hearing music, but no two people heard the same music. Finally, the brother who brought the radio woke up. I asked him about the music and he seemed a bit freaked out. He woke up sometime during the night and went outside to smoke. He heard music as well and had assumed it was someone else. I should mention that he was the only one with a generator and a radio. It wasn’t his radio we heard, it wasn’t anyone else’s either.
I’ve been back several times, but I’m a bit freaked out by that place at night. I have fun while I’m there, but I’m almost always armed and I don’t sleep in a tent anymore, I sleep in my SUV with the doors locked. It may seem kinda dumb, but realizing that everyone heard different music when there are no people, no functional radios, and no electricity is quite creepy.” – goat-of-mendes
7. The Light
“We were in a river-side cabin one night in Northern Michigan. I had just stretched out when a huge crack erupted from the woods. Both of us thought it was a branch or old tree that had fallen.
After he turned off the living room light, we noticed that the light coming from the windows was abnormally strong. This sent our nerves to a new high. The light seemed to pulse several times and got so bright at one point you could have read a book by it. It couldn’t have been a car as we were almost a mile off the road on a dirt trail. Plus, the light came in from all the windows equally.
Every so often we would hear a strange humming noise that penetrated that cabin. This lasted almost half an hour. We talked about just running out to the car and leaving but neither one of us wanted to go outside.
After the light went out, we sat on the couch, occasionally putting forth theories on what it could have been. Around four o’clock in the morning, there was another loud crack. We worried that the light might come back but nothing happened.” – R. Bassil
8. Blue Spectre
“My friend and I were walking just outside of the circle of cabins. It was a bright night with all the stars shining and the moon was well lit. There was a campfire going, and in one of the big cabins there was a party going on with music and so on. We were walking, and we both got a really weird feeling, as if we were being watched. We both turned toward the sea… we saw a blue figure, very tall – about 7 feet – walking through the trees. It made no sound at all. It was a bright blue and glowing figure walking through the forest. It was emitting a shimmery aura, and my friend and I both became very frightened. We shouted at whatever that thing was and we were asking it what it was. We got no reply, of course, but we expected one. We stared as it walked away and out of our vision; we didn’t dare follow it.
We then ran back to the group of people at the camp fire, screaming and describing what we saw. Another friend of mine claimed he was watching it from a distance not far from were we were and was just as frightened as I was.” – Devin
9. Footsteps Upstairs
“Not something I experienced, but my sister and her husband did.
My family used to have a cabin on a lake in the Northwoods. It’s a lake with no public access. On the other side is/was an old Girl’s Camp that the state was letting fall apart. The camp had a large, two-story main house that was mostly intact at the time.
My sister and her husband decided to check out the camp one day. They canoe’d over and started to walk around. They went into the Main House first. They walked around for a bit. And then they heard heavy footsteps upstairs. These footsteps turned into someone running heavily towards the stairs.
My sister and her husband booked it out of the house, but they could hear the steps coming down the stairs and on the main level as they ran out. They opted to run around the house instead of heading back to the shore.
They never saw who it was, but they heard them enter back into the house. And then they heard them storm back outside again. They went into the woods this time and heard someone running in the woods after them.
They took the long way around the lake back to the cabin.
My dad and I had to go back later that day to get the canoe. We never heard or saw anything.” – joftheinternet
10. Geocaching
“I’ve been geocaching in the woods many times, and occasionally one runs into caches with weird things in them. The creepiest was an ammo box with only a handful of finds that contained broken doll parts and a handwritten note that said “Look behind you”. I definitely had the heebie-jeebies and double-timed it back to my car despite it being the middle of the day. It’s crossed my mind before that geocaching would be a great way for a serial killer to lure people out to remote locations.” – Anonymous
11. Who Followed Us?
“This happened in 81 or 82. Not sure anymore.
I had made friends with a fellow I worked with and offered to take him gigging for frogs. He was from the city and had never spent any time in the woods at night. The farm I had permission to do it on was only about a mile from my place. My friend showed up at 10:30 or so and I gave him a gig and a flashlight. We decided to walk to the other farm. We didn’t get far before we both heard something walking in the dark to the side of us. I’ve been in the woods all my life and I’ve had plenty of deer follow me but I wasn’t going to tell him that. It was clear he was getting spooked. We climbed a fence and continued on. Then we heard something else climb the fence.
Deer don’t climb fences. I tried looking around with the flashlight but he wanted none of it. We could see the house lights of the place we were going to and he ran off on me and beat on the guy’s door until they let him in. By the time I got there Mr. Barber, (the land owner), and his wife was out on the porch and wanted to know what was going on. Mr. Barber and I went back and had a look around but found nothing. My friend refused to walk back and Mr. Barber gave us a ride back to my place. We never did find out what or who it was that was following us.
My friend decided that frogging wasn’t for him. He has also refused to go on several fishing trips I have invited him to. I can’t say I was too comfortable with what happened but I haven’t let it stop me from frogging.” – Smoker
12. The Circle
“I was backpacking in New Hampshire and camped out for the night after a day hike. I wondered off from our fire to go take a piss and stumbled upon a circle etched into the ground with tuning forks surrounding the circle standing up straight…It looked like a creepy ritual circle and it bugged me out so I booked it back to the group.” – ITS_A_BADTIME_BOB
13. The Gator
“Few years ago I was camping in the Everglades in Florida with a few friends. We all had gone into our separate tents and were starting to fall asleep. The area was pretty noisy with bugs, crickets, birds, etc. I heard this very low vibration, sounding almost like a low roar. it was powerful enough to vibrate in my chest. Suddenly everything in the forest shut up. no bugs, no birds, nothing. about thirty seconds later my phone vibrates and its my friend in the other tent texting me asking if i heard the same thing. the four of us kept texting each other, wondering what it was. about ten minutes later all the animals slowly started making noise again. I slept that night with my machete at arms reach.
A lot of people are saying it might have been a gator. We were in an elevated area that was far from any streams or ponds. Its possible there might have been a pond with a gator that we missed, but the very big ones tend to hang out in lakes.” – Biggs180
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