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rphelperblog · 2 years

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Passengers Book Rp Meme

by Alexandra Bracken- feel free to edit or change pronouns for rp purposes

“It's our choices that matter in the end. Not wishes, not words, not promises.”

“Should you try to leave on your own, know that I will go to the ends of the earth to bring you back.”

. I believe he is presently indisposed with the business of dying.”

“For the longest time, I saw them as the end of my journey, but now I think they were always meant to represent the beginning of yours.”

“There are rules, but rules may be rewritten if only one hand holds the ink.”

“Do not die so far from the sea.”

“It shouldn't surprise me that men continue to think of grand new ways to kill one another, and with greater precision.”

“I don't need a protector, I need a partner.”

“You cannot fathom the distance I would travel for you.”

“In the whole course of history, war had always fallen on the shoulders of the young.”

“It's not weakness to require help, or a protector.”

“she's always told me a good challenge builds character.”

“It was amazing how small you could feel when someone wouldn't so much as look at you.”

“Good ideas had in the dark were generally best left there.”

“It matters not who you love, but only the quality of such a love. A flower is no less beautiful because it does not bloom in the expected form. Because it lasts an hour, and not days.”

“The only way out is through.”

“She didn't need a protector or a rescuer. But she did need him.”

“Love was selfish, wasn't it? It made honest men want things they had no right to. It cocooned one from the rest of the world, erased time itself, knocked away reason. It made you live in defiance of the inevitable. It made you want another's mind, body; it made you feel as if you deserved to own their heart, and carve out a place in it.”

“How do you fight against a mountain? How do you move it when you don't even have a shovel?”

“A kiss? I don't know if that's a wise idea. We'd never leave.”

“A snake could shed its skin, but never change its color.”

“Maybe you don't have to move it, Maybe you have to climb it.”

“He would not surrender to the disaster of loving her.”

“What a privilege it was to never feel like you had to take stock of your surroundings, or gauge everyone’s reactions to the color of your skin.”

“I've never slapped anyone before,”

“It would have been more satisfying if he'd gone flying out of his seat like I imagined.”

they had forgotten the most crucial point of life—that it wasn’t meant to be lived for the past, or even the future, but for each present moment.”

“You do have a choice, you know,There is always a choice.”

“You are my passenger, and I will be damned before I let any harm come to you.”

“I want the whole of you, and would never give you less of me.”

“there will always be a position for you on my ship.”

“Will you let me climb up into the rigging? Reef the sails?”

“As if you could stop me.”

“Oh my God you are despicable!

“Careful, madam, blasphemy is still a sin—”

“I wish you'd go a a little easier on him,

“He came in here thrashing a sword around. Was I supposed to stand idly by and do nothing?”

“Never. Never again would he allow any other man to define him, set his course.”

“A flower is no less beautiful because it does not bloom in the expected form. Because it lasts an hour, not days.”

“We were made for each other.”

“Well, you weren't supposed to try and rearrange his face with your fist.”

“He lunged up into it several times. I was only in the way.”

“Free the fire fluttering inside her rib cage. Work her muscles, the bow, the violin, until she played herself to ash and embers and left the rest of the world behind to smolder.”

“Half-truths only added up to a whole lie.”

“What good is honour when greed eats away at its foundations?”

“I want the whole of you, and would never give you less of me.”

“All I hear are Satan's hammers and the war drums of hell, thank you.”

“He said he'd never remarry, because he'd never find another lady that fit so neatly at his side. He called her his equal in spirit.”

“She was protected. She cared so deep for him that he seemed to live like a second heart inside her. She wanted him, and he wanted her. To hell with forever. This moment was theirs, and she'd steal it if she had to.

'Would we . . . be able to dance . . . that way?'

Hey, this ship hasn't sunk yet,”

“We may have one sail, but we're still going.”

I want to play my violin, make my mistakes, fall in love, live in as many different cities as I can. Would you really take that from me?”

“Would you like me to go take that violin for you? I'd gladly fight whatever angry mob rises up if it might make you smile.”

“I would only want to play for you.”

“The melody of her heart had no name; it was quick, and light. It rolled with the waves, falling as the breath left his chest, rising as he inhaled. It was the rain sliding down the glass; the fog spreading its fingers over the water. The creaking of a ship's great body. The secrets whispered by the wind, and the unseen life that moved below. It was the flame of one last candle.”

“—the longer you silence a violin, the harder it is for it to find its true voice again.”

“That she’d looked at him as though he was the last treasure to be had in the world?”

“A flower is no less beautiful because it does not bloom in the expected form. Because it lasts an hour, not days.”

“I couldn't bear the thought of even your face here, left alone, for only the jungle to admire.

“Never. I'd never allow it. The only thing is to hire an artist to turn you into a figurehead for a ship, so some part of you will always be venturing out where you belong.”

“You are going to be incredibly embarrassed when you survive this, and I come back to make you answer for all of that poetry, I swear, you eighteenth-century men are so dramatic.”

“Can you not see it? Can you not feel how badly I want you? I'm a selfish bastard, I'm worse then you'll ever know, but I'll answer to God or anyone else who tries to stand in our way so long as I know you're safe.”

“Say something. Please, say anything, just don't hide your thoughts from me.”

“How unfortunate that sailing was one of the few occupations where a man could be praised for failing, so long as he did it bravely.”

“I know why you did. That's what I want for you...to have the things you deserve. I want you to have that, and not feel guilty about how you got it. You told me the truth. You don't have to give me poetry to ease the blow.”

“Like any girl, she still felt the echoes from earlier eras of repression. She'd been raised by a mother who'd fought hard to get a wage she deserved, to have access to education when she lacked every advantage, to travel on her own terms. The idea she was being asked-that she was expected to simply play along-made the blood throb in her veins. She was already in the damn stays. Wasn't the enough?”

“Who could be satisfied with seeking out the four corners of one small world, when there was the whole of time to be had?”

“The notes of the symphony of lives, desires, and revenge suddenly swelled into a chorus of generations, blasting through her mind.”

“There are times, you defeat me utterly.”

“He made her feel brave; he let her be who she was unconditionally, without judgement, and because of it, she felt life shifting around her into something that felt much more beautiful and clear.”

“You’re looking especially clean this morning,”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I brought water up for a bath, and then more for you. The water should still be warm.”

I could kiss you for that!”

“Don’t hold yourself back on my account.”

“You call that a kiss?”

“We haven't the time for a proper one, pirate. Now tell me, where precisely are we?”

“Together they had painted a rather vivid image in her mind of a man with a bloody sword, guided by a shrivelled lump of ash and ice for a heart, in possession of actual fangs and claws.”

“Did I not say we needed a map…?”

“I cannot help but think, it matters not who you love, but only the quality of such a love. And so what I wish to say to you is…a flower is no less beautiful because it does not bloom in the expected form. Because it lasts an hour, and not days.”

“Both eyes open. He'll make as if to cut your throat from the front as another knife slices clean through your back.”

“You can come see me for a visit anytime. It's like how the song goes: I'll be seeing you, in all the old familiar places. . .”

“I don't care about the rules or anyone else. People are awful - they're idiots - and if they try to hurt you, I won't need the revolver. I care about you and all I ask is that you try not to make me feel like an idiot for it. You're supposed to . . . you're my partner.”

“I wish you would. At least then you might see the whole of the sorry thing, the absolute mastery you have held over it from the moment I saw you.”

“Interesting, though, that in the end we're all just dogs.”

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sno0077 · 9 months

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"The past cannot be changed, forgotten, edited, or erased. It can only be accepted." - Unknown

#everything is connected #quotes #artists on tumblr #heartstopper #people #life quotes #everything in its right place #creative #family #explore #photooftheday #photo edit #photoart

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thesoulofasurvivor · 9 months

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The past cannot be changed, forgotten, edited or erased. It can only be accepted.

#the last of us #the last of us part ii #the last of us 2 #ellie williams #the last of us ellie #~~ 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑 ও 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 ; 𝑖𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑎𝑑

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postersbykeith · 3 years

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#quotes #the past cannot be changed forgotten edited or erased

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citateq · 6 years

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The past cannot be changed, forgotten, edited or erased. It can only be accepted.

#the past #cannot #be #changed #forgotten #edited #erased #it can #only #accepted #citate #quotes

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Not Alone

Valkyrae (Rae) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mention of death of a pet, Grieving

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Angst

Summary: When Y/N doesn’t join the scheduled stream of Among Us with some cheap reasoning that everyone else falls for, Rae is far from convinced. She goes on to check the situation on her own just for her suspicions and worries to be confirmed further - something is off about Y/N and Rae is nothing if not determined to find out what.

Requested by @alex3atsbugs Hello dear, consider this my farewell to the adorable little Marceline, I hope the cutie is looking down at us from heaven right now. Marceline, I might not have known you but I miss and love you regardless. You have a special place in our hearts and you will never be forgotten. All my love, Vy ❤

“Ok so we’re only waiting on Lily now, right?“ Sykkuno asks, adjusting his earbuds as he scans over the settings for the game since he was the one to create the lobby which is now almost complete - lacking one more astronaut before the game can start.

Rae, who’s been scrolling through Instagram, looking at fanart and edits, snaps her head up to look at her computer monitor with confusion written all over her features, her brows furrowed, “Wait, what about Y/N? Aren’t they coming?”

This sudden change has surprised Rae more than someone would consider reasonable. But, in her eyes, it’s perfectly reasonable and justifiable considering Y/N has never skipped a stream nor have they ever not reported to her even for the tiniest of things such as running late. Even if they are not joining today, which is a huge oddity in and of itself, they would’ve definitely told Rae about it.

“Oh, no they won’t be joining us today. They said they were experiencing some technical troubles.” Sykkuno replies nonchalantly which aggravates Rae a tiny bit. She cannot comprehend how no one else is seeing anything odd here. Maybe it has something to do with how attentive she is when it comes to Y/N - she’s not sure why, but she is - or maybe it’s just a gut instinct but regardless, she can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. Not to mention that in all their years of streaming together on Twitch and now on YouTube never has Y/N dealt with technical difficulties that led to them not being able to stream.

Y/N is the type of organized person that is constantly on top of things. They’d never let a technical difficulty get between them and providing their fans with entertainment. Chances are, if there really was an issue, it would’ve been fixed by now and even if it wasn’t...

Y/N would’ve let me know they wouldn’t be joining, Rae’s mind screams, almost altering her calm facial expression.

“Hey can you give me about five minutes? My router’s acting up, I’ll restart it.“ Rae blurts out without as much as a second thought. Her thoughts are elsewhere right now, she’s got more important things to worry about. Luckily, her ability of rational thinking pushes through to the surface even without her guidance.

She mutes her in-game and stream mics, takes her phone and rises from her chair, giving the camera what she hopes is a more apologetic rather than distressed smile before walking off-frame. Once out of view, she dials Y/N’s number, tapping her foot anxiously as she waits for her call to be picked up.

“Hello?“ When it does get answered, she’s met with a sniff before the weak voice utters the hesitant greeting word.

“Hey Y/N! What’s up?“ Rae tried to balance her question between a ‘what’s up?‘ in the ‘what’s wrong?‘ sense and the usual cheerful greeting she uses it as. She doesn’t want to end up seeming paranoid.

“Oh, hey, Rae. Nothing much. Aren’t you supposed to be streaming right now?“ Y/N’s tone raises a bit as they try to apply a bit more energy and enthusiasm into their words, presumably to erase any suspicion that sniffle might’ve caused in their friend who appears to have a sixth sense for when things are up with the people they care about. Or with Y/N specifically.

“Um...“ Rae spares the stream set-up a skeptical look, buying herself time to think of an excuse to partner her negation. She doesn’t want to lie to Y/N but she’s aware that they’ll be quick to ditch the conversation and postpone it if she admits to indeed be streaming. “Um, no, not yet. We scheduled it a bit later. Will you be joining us?“

“Uh, no, sorry, I won’t be able to. I’m sick and feeling like absolute crap so...“

Rae automatically stops listening, not on purpose, she just can’t hear Y/N’s voice over the alarms going off in her head, screaming at here that there’s something SERIOUSLY wrong. The stories not adding up - neither of them making sense to begin with - the lack of any authentic energy in Y/N’s voice, that sniffle she heard at the start of the call. It’s all so scarily wrong that it sends Rae one second away from entering full panic mode.

“I thought you were having technical difficulties.“ She blurts out without any thought of it’d make Y/N feel or how it would change the course of the conversation.

Y/N inhales sharply as if caught completely off-guard and backed up into a corner, “Oh, yeah, that too. My computer keeps crashing.” Being backed up into a figurative corner doesn’t stop them from trying to further pursue this lie they’ve come up with. A lie so blatant and obvious there’s really no point in them trying to keep it going. Yet they choose to do exactly that.

“Y/N, you’re BSing me, you should know better than that!“ Rae whines almost desperately, “Please, tell me what’s going on? We’re friends, I don’t deserve to be kept in the dark, Y/N!“

There’s silence on the other end, loud silence that almost sends Rae into a breakdown. Some may consider it an overreaction, but let me ask you - wouldn’t you be upset and worried if someone you immensely care about was acting oddly and completely out of character.

“You’re going to think it’s ridiculous.“ Y/N’s voice cracks, letting it be known, clear as day, that they are barely balancing on the edge between keeping it together and crying.

“Of course I won’t, baby! I would never! Talk to me.“ Rae pursues, her heart breaking a little at the sound of her friend’s sadness. It’s taking a really big toll on her, not being able to hold Y/N in her arms instead of trying to gauge out their answers over the phone which is proving to be not at all effective or helpful to either of them.

Y/N sniffles again, “My hamster, Marcy...” She inhales to prevent a sob from escaping her lungs, “...died this morning.”

Rae has heard enough to be sent into action.

* * *

“Thank you so much, Rae. I would’ve probably stayed in bed all day with no effort to keep living whatsoever. You’re an amazing person, I hope you know that.“ Y/N gives the hand of Rae’s that’s holding hers a small squeeze, “I’m so lucky to have you.“

The two friends have been sitting on the couch in Y/N’s living room, the atmosphere a mix of melancholy and comfort. The comfort Rae’s been offering Y/N for the past hour or so has been almost entirely silent, in the form of physical affection, to be exact - hugs, soothing backrubs, gentle abstract patterns drawn on their arm, playing with their hair etc. Needless to say, it’s been far more effective than the attempt of calming them down and helping them out over a phone call.

“Don’t ever thank me for being your friend, Y/N. The honor’s all mine“ Rae rubs Y/N’s shoulder reassuringly, resting her head against theirs.

“Rae, you ditched a whole damn stream for me! Of course I’m gonna thank you! Who else would do that for me?“ Y/N protests, their glossy eyes looking up at Rea, lit up by the small smile that has managed to make its way onto their face.

“Only someone utterly stupid and heartless WOULDN’T do that for you.“ Rae says firmly, holding stern eye-contact with her friend.

Y/N looks away almost shyly, smile growing wider, their cheeks becoming rosier. “You have a way with words, you know...” They bite their lip nervously, “Could you help me express my emotions in the post I’ve been planning to make all day? My fans loved Marcy and I’m sure they’ll be as crushed as I am, I just want to appear strong so they don’t worry about me, you know?” They shrug their shoulders hesitantly as another tear escapes their eye.

Rae carefully and gently wipes their tear away with her knuckles, “Of course, Y/N. You don’t have to do this alone - you don’t have to do ANYTHING alone. Because you are never alone - you’ll always have me.”

Something about what Rae just said and the way she said it has struck a nerve in Y/N that has provoked a few more tears to spill out of their eyes as they somehow manage to whisper a: “Thank you” before throwing their arms around Rae, enveloping her entirely in the warmest of embraces.

Meanwhile....

“Yo guys, how long does it take for a router to be reset?“ Sykkuno asks his fellow ghostie buds out of the blue.

“Less than five minutes. Why?“ Lily replies.

“Cause Rae said she’d reset her router and be back but she’s been gone for two hours so....“

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englishstrawbie · 3 years

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Serendipity (20/?)

Fandom: Station 19, Grey’s Anatomy

Characters: Maya Bishop & Carina DeLuca

Summary: A chance meeting at a bar leads to these two idiots falling in love. Follows canon and fills in the gaps of their relationship that we didn’t get to see on screen.

Also @ AO3.

* * * * * * * * * *

Acceptance

The past cannot be changed, forgotten, edited or erased; it can only be accepted. - Anon

Maya is wide awake when her alarm starts to ring at six a.m. She must have barely had two hours sleep, her body too wired and her head too full of thoughts to relax enough to let exhaustion win. She rolls over and grabs her phone, hitting the red button and letting it drop onto the blankets without bothering to check for messages. She doesn’t jump out of bed like she normally does, but lies there staring at the ceiling – as if she hasn’t been doing that all night, replaying yesterday’s events over and over again in her head.

Her fight with Carina.

Her fight with Andy.

Her fight with Jack.

The sex with Jack. The betrayal. The look on Carina’s face when she told her.

She wishes she had stayed at the apartment instead of going for a run, but Carina kept pushing and Maya couldn’t listen to it any more. She wishes she had never stepped foot inside the station. She wishes Jack had left her office when she asked him to get out. She wishes… there is so much that Maya wishes but she knows it is a pointless feat.

She didn’t mean for it to happen. She didn’t go looking for it, she didn’t want it. She had felt herself unravelling and Jack just wouldn’t shut up and she had to make him stop, she had to take back control of the situation that was spiraling away from her. It is the most stupid and selfish thing Maya has ever done and she wishes she could take it back, but she can’t.

She feels raw, like everyone has peeled back her layers and exposed her for who she really is. The High School track star who used to run for fun until her father took over coaching and it became about keeping him happy. The Olympian chasing her father’s dreams instead of her own. The girl whose worth was measured by the number of gold medals hanging in her bedroom.

She has lived her life by the mantras that her father instilled in her during her teenage years. Always be the best; first place is the only prize worth winning. Don’t let anyone distract you from the goal.

Embrace the pain. Eyes forward at all times.

They are the building blocks of her life and she feels like someone has come along with a hammer and knocked those blocks down. She is falling and there is no-one there to catch her. Not Carina; not even the clouds to keep her safe.

Blinking back tears, Maya grabs the spare pillow on her bed and smothers her face, screaming into it, desperate to let out every ounce of frustration in her body. The release she gets from it is quickly replaced with memories of her ex-girlfriend as she takes a deep breath and inhales the scent of Carina’s shampoo that still lingers on the pillowcase. Her senses are flooded with memories that she can’t bear and she flings the pillow to one side, not caring when it falls to the floor.

With a heavy sigh, Maya rolls onto her side and swings her legs off the bed, pushing herself upright. She reaches her hands above her chest and stretches, the cotton fabric of her t-shirt lifting up and exposing her abs. The cold morning air causes her muscles to ripple, small goosebumps forming. She rolls her neck before standing up and wandering to the bathroom.

She takes a long, hot shower. She had scrubbed every inch of her body last night, washing off every memory of her tryst with Jack until she felt clean – on the outside, at least. She takes her time this morning, letting the water relax her tense muscles.

She dresses and makes her usual protein shake for breakfast, then jumps in her car, skipping her run to work. She doesn’t have the energy after yesterday’s run and workout, and she knows she can always make use of the station gym again if her body craves more exercise.

When eight o’clock rolls around, Maya sets the team to work on their chores, before hiding away in her office to catch up on B shift’s call out reports. It is a slow morning and no-one bothers her, and she wonders if they can tell that she isn’t in the mood for chatter today.

She tries to concentrate but it is hard, her mind wanders to Carina constantly. She wonders what Carina is thinking, how she is feeling, if there is any part of her that might forgive Maya’s betrayal. Except now Carina has seen her most broken parts and Maya knows she will never be able to earn her forgiveness, so what is the point of even trying?

Just after eleven o’clock, her cellphone rings. Maya’s first thought is whether it is Carina calling her, even it is just to yell at her, and her heart sinks when she sees the home screen light up with ‘Dad’. She lets it ring out and waits to see if he leaves a voicemail. She knows why he is calling and she can’t handle him today.

As much as she didn’t want to hear her mom’s accusations of abuse, she really doesn’t want to hear her dad’s excuses. Because he always has an excuse, he always has a reason for why he treats her the way he does and she is tired of it. She grew up wanting nothing more than his approval, because his approval meant love. This morning she had woken up, her relationship in tatters, and had realised that she didn’t need approval to be loved. She had Carina’s love without condition and she had ruined it by cheating and then throwing it in Carina’s face.

Her dad doesn’t leave a message and she is grateful for that, at least. She turns attention back to work and tries to get through the pile of reports that need to be signed off. The aid car gets called out a couple of times, but there are no fires and the morning passes slowly. She can hear the jokes and laughter of her team floating through the door from the barn and into the reception area outside her office, and she is envious of how lighthearted they are when her heart is so heavy.

Jack knocks on her door at lunch time.

“Are you joining us for lunch?” he asks tentatively, clearly not sure of what kind of welcome he’s going to get.

“No thanks,” Maya says curtly, keeping her eyes down. She is no mood to get into a conversation with him.

He is ignorant to her mood – again – and steps inside, keeping close to the door.

“Look, about yesterday…” he starts, but Maya cuts him off quickly.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says. “It shouldn’t have happened.” She lifts her head and looks him square in the eyes. “It won’t happen again.”

“No, no, I know,” Jack says. “And I won’t say anything. To anyone. Especially not Carina.”

If only she had shown the same sensitivity last night, Maya thinks to herself.

“Carina knows.”

Jack’s thick eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise. “She does?”

Maya nods shortly.

“And you two are…?”

“Over,” Maya says, looking away so that he can’t see the pain in her eyes. “We’re over.”

She says it with an accusatory tone which she knows is unjustified because the only person she has to blame for getting into this mess is herself, but she doesn’t care because she just wants him gone. It works, too, and he backs off, disappearing up to the beanery and leaving her alone.

She skips lunch, in no mood to make conversation. Just saying the words out loud that her relationship with Carina is over leaves her feeling despondent and she so desperately wants to shake it off. Maybe this is what heartbreak feels like, she realises. It is unfamiliar to her and it knocks her off balance.

A call to a factory fire mid-afternoon distracts her from her thoughts. Her team make quick work of evacuating all of the employees, but the fire ravages the building and it takes all of her focus and attention to stop it from collapsing. It is hours before they arrive back at the station, tired and hungry. Maya’s stomach growls and she steels herself to join the team for dinner, glad that everyone is too exhausted to engage in much conversation. They all crash out afterwards, except for Maya whose body fights sleep. She has been better lately at sleeping at work, letting herself relax even though her head tells her to stay awake and alert and focused at all times. There were some nights when Carina would sneak through the front door when no-one was looking and curl up in the captain’s bunk with her, and Maya would find peace in the other woman’s arms. She craves that feeling again.

The engine is called out to a house fire at three a.m. and Maya jumps on the call, even though she doesn’t need to, just to do something other than be kept awake by her guilt.

She crashes out when she gets home. She knows it is going to screw up her body clock but she doesn’t care. It’s not like she has anything to do today anyway. Time that would usually be spent with Carina is now free time again. Maya used to love that, but now she hates the silence. She misses Carina’s laugh and her insane stories about work and the smell of her rich Italian food filling her kitchen.

Maya’s fingers graze over her cellphone every now and again, and she thinks about calling Carina, but each time she convinces herself that she is only setting herself up for more heartbreak. Instead, she wastes the day sleeping and cleaning and running errands, doing everything she can to quell the loneliness that starts to build up inside of her.

Her next shift is busier and Maya misses another call from her dad. She sends him a quick message to placate him but she knows she is going to have to talk to him eventually. Except she doesn’t know what to say to him. All the energy she used to have in defending him and his ways has been drained from her and she feels empty. She has always been her father’s daughter, that’s what everyone used to say, and she doesn’t know who she will be without his guiding presence in her life. All that is left is a person who hurts the only woman she has every truly loved, and she knows she doesn’t want to be that person.

It is a thought that plagues her mind over and over as she evades sleep once more. By the time the morning rolls around, she is exhausted again. Just after seven a.m. she goes in search for coffee and stumbles on the team helping themselves to the breakfast that the B shift have cooked, despite the objections from Finch and his pals. It doesn’t go unnoticed that they fall quiet when she walks into the beanery and Maya sees Ben looking shifty. She figures that word of her break up has got back to him via Bailey and she avoids eye contact, silently hoping that no-one will ask her about it. The smell of crispy bacon makes her stomach rumble and she tucks in herself, knowing that Finch won’t utter a word to her.

Travis is the first one to say something. “Hey Captain?”

Maya looks at him, wary of what he is going to say. “Yeah?”

“Party at Dean’s houseboat tonight,” he announces, looking at her expectantly.

Maya hesitates. She can’t deny that the thought of leaving all of her problems at the bottom of a liquor bottle is appealing.

“Come on, we’re all gonna let off some steam,” Dean says, refusing to take no for an answer.

Maya relents. “I’ll bring the tequila,” she says with a small smile.

Dean grins at her. “Alright!”

Maya spends the day alone again. She heads to bed as soon as she walks through the front door and sleeps until lunch time. When she wakes, she fuels herself with a protein smoothie before going for a five mile run to burn off some of her pent up energy. She wastes away the afternoon in front of the television until evening rolls around. After a quick trip to the liquor store, she arrives at Dean’s house just after eight o’clock.

“Nice of you to join us, Captain,” Dean says with a twinkle in his eye, shuffling back and welcoming Maya inside the houseboat.

Someone immediately shoves a bottle of beer into her hand and she takes a swig. It’s earthy and sharp, and maybe she is used to the delicate bouquet of wine since spending so much time with Carina, but it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth that she isn’t used to these days. She takes another mouthful, figuring she might as well get to used to something different, as she shrugs off her jacket and throws it onto the back of a chair.

Within minutes, Travis grabs her hand.

“Come and dance!” he cajoles her.

He is already a few drinks ahead of her, his body relaxed and his eyes shining. She feels envious of the happiness that exudes from him and lets him drag her to the middle of the room, where Vic and Emmett are dancing.

“Maya! About damn time!” Vic says, holding up her glass and grinning widely as Maya clinks her bottle against it.

They dance and Maya lets the stress in her body flow out of her. She closes her eyes as she moves, getting lost in the beat of the music, trying to clear her head of everything that has been haunting her.

Her dad. Carina.

She drinks a second beer and a third and a fourth, each drink burying her feelings further down. She ignores the way her heart hurts and allows herself to enjoy the company of her friends. They get silly, jumping and spinning around, and Maya’s cheeks ache from smiling and laughing more than she has in days, ignoring the guilt that weighs down on her.

“I heard you broke up with your hot doctor lover,” Vic says as they dance.

Maya feels a jolt in her chest at the mention of her ex-girlfriend and she remembers just how much she misses her, but she pushes it down again and pretends to shrug it off instead.

“I heard you broke up with yours,” she says in return. At least she’s not alone in nursing a broken heart.

“Yeah,” Vic says. “Yeah, we’re dumb.”

Maya doesn’t need anyone to tell her how stupid she is for destroying her relationship with Carina.

They party until the early hours of the morning until, one by one, they start to pass out. Maya waits until they’re squabbling about bedrooms and space on the couch before she orders an Uber and slips out unnoticed. She’s glad to curl up in her own bed except she is growing tired of sleeping in it by herself. She misses Carina’s body curled up against her, the warmth of her breath on her neck, and the softness of her hand slipping underneath her tank top.

Despite the amount she had to drink, Maya wakes just before nine o’clock the next morning. Her throat is dry and scratchy, her head hurts, and she regrets the tequila. She practically crawls out of bed and gets straight into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the night before.

She makes eggs for breakfast and wolfs them down, her hangover demanding food, quickly followed by a green smoothie because she knows she ought to get something nutritious inside of her. It is her day off and she regrets not making any plans, because she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She settles on the couch and flicks through her phone, smiling at the idiotic photos they took last night, until she scrolls back far enough to the last photo she has of Carina. It was taken a few days before their fight, they had gone out to dinner in downtown Seattle. It was a candid photo, Carina had been leaning against the railing overlooking the water as they had waited for their table to be ready. Maya had volunteered to fetch them drinks from the bar and, on her way back, she had been blown away with how beautiful Carina looked in that moment. She didn’t tell Carina she was taking the photo, she never even showed it to her. It was a secret that Maya carried on her cell phone.

It has been five days since she made the worst mistake of her life and she still doesn’t have the courage to reach out to Carina. She doesn’t know where to begin when it comes to saying sorry for what she had done, doesn’t know how to explain why she did it. So instead tries to convince herself that their relationship was another fling which just happened to last longer than the ones before it. She tries to forget just how much she loves Carina and how hard her heart aches every minute of every damn day.

She is exhausted and she drops her head on the back of the couch, closing her eyes and willing sleep to take her away from real life for a while. It is not long before her phone pings, jerking her awake and alerting her to a five alarm call. Within seconds the Battalion Chief is calling her, telling her there has been an explosion at a nearby hospital. Maya’s mind goes straight to Carina.

“Which hospital?” is her first question. “Sir? Which hospital?”

“Pac North,” Chief Sato answers. “Get your team here as soon as you can, it’s all hands on deck.”

“Yes Sir,” Maya says.

She rushes to the bedroom and pulls on the first pair of shoes she can find, then jumps into her car. It is only a five minute car ride and she pulls in behind Dean’s SUV just as the group from the night before, minus Andy, fall out of it looking worse for wear and just as regretful about how much alcohol they consumed last night.

“Explosion at Pac North,” she says as she gets out of her car. “Get into your gear and let’s go!”

They all jump into action, running to the locker room and pulling on her turnout gear in record time.

“Montgomery, take the aid car with Warren. Gibson, Hughes, Miller, take the ladder truck. I’ll meet you there in the engine.”

They nod at her and rush to the barn, while Maya takes a detour to the front desk to pick up the floor plans of the hospital that the Chief has asked her to bring to the scene. As she rushes through the station, she is surprised by the sight of her dad leaning against the front desk. Her stomach flips at seeing him. He looks solemn as he looks down at his hands, twisting his wedding band around his finger. He hears her coming and looks up, his frown turning into a smile when he sees her.

“Hey,” he says.

Maya slows her pace. “Dad… what are you doing here?”

“Well, I figured I’d stop by and see my daughter the captain in action,” Lane says, watching as Maya collects her papers from the printer. “I’ve been calling you for days.”

Maya knows that tone – he’s mad, he’s just not showing it.

“I’m sorry,” she says on autopilot. “There’s been a lot going on and I have to go.” She backs away and into the barn. “But just hang here until l get back.”

“Sure kiddo,” Lane says, as Maya climbs into the fire engine.

She hates it when he calls her ‘kiddo’. Most people think of it as a term of endearment, but Maya knows it is his way of reminding him of who has the power in their relationship. Father/daughter. Master/servant.

“Hey?” Lane calls out after her. “Go Captain!”

He pumps his fist in the air at her and Maya shoots him a half smile as she closes the door, offering him a small wave as the engine pulls out of the barn and hurtles down the road towards Pac North.

They are greeted by Chief Sato on their arrival.

“I thought the hospital was closed?” Maya questions.

“Mostly,” Sato says. “ER is open, it’s transferring admits. Radiology on the first floor, research wing in the basement.”

“Gas leak?”

“That’s our guess,” Sato says. “Utilities are off…”

He doesn’t get to say any more before another explosion blasts out of the third floor. So much for a gas leak, Maya thinks. Her team don’t hesitate as they rush into the hospital, while Maya stays outside, pouring over the plans with the Chief and his team as they try to work out a pattern to the explosions. There is no way of knowing if and when another explosion might happen, so her team’s orders are simple: get everyone and themselves out of the building as soon as possible.

They are taking their time and Maya becomes impatient. “Gibson, I need all of my team out of that building now,” she demands through the radio.

“Copy Captain,” comes Jack’s reply.

Her momentary relief at hearing from him quickly dissipates when another explosion blasts out the first floor windows.

“What the hell,” Maya mutters, immediately spotting Cutler coming out of the building carrying a firefighter from Station 23 on his shoulders. He is followed by two more carrying an injured firefighter between them. There is no sign of anyone else from 19. “We have two firefighters from 23 with blast injuries,” she says down her radio. “19? 19 do you copy?”

There is an urgency to her voice that she can’t hide. The last few months have been full of so much loss and she can’t lose anyone else.

“Copy,” Jack says. “Explosion above us caused collapse of the hallway outside. Gibson here with Hughes, Miller, Warren, Montgomery and one patient.”

Maya breathes a sigh of relief at hearing from him. “Gibson, do you have egress?”

“Negative,” Jack replies.

“Dammit,” Maya curses. Before she gets chance to liaise with Chief Sato, Dixon turns up.

“Bishop, Sato, report,” he barks.

Maya takes the lead. “Third explosion and fire on the third floor. Weakened structural integrity causing partial collapse. We have two from 23 injured and five currently trapped in the basement research wing. Requesting USAR company to come in…”

“Chief! Chief Dixon! Over here, Sir!” come calls from the crowd.

Chief Dixon is immediately distracted by the attention of the press and saunters away as Maya is mid-sentence.

“Afternoon all, happy to answer any questions you may have,” she hears him address them.

She shakes her head in disbelief and has to bite her tongue in front of Chief Sato to stop herself from saying something she shouldn’t. “What’s USAR’s ETA?” she asks instead.

“He said five minutes out,” Sato answers.

Maya turns her focus back to the task in hand, desperate to get her team to safety.

Within minutes, Gibson is back on the radio. “Bishop, we have a suspicious device...”

He is cut short and silence falls. Maya waits for more but nothing else comes. “Gibson? Gibson?!” she calls for him, but he doesn’t answer.

“This is Pac North IC requesting SPD bomb squad code red response,” Sato demands through his radio.

“And we still have a news chopper and a drone,” Maya says, looking upwards into the sky. “Medivac’s still not cleared to land.”

Out of nowhere, a familiar voice grabs Maya’s attention from behind her.

“There’s my girl…”

Maya turns, immediately on edge when she sees her father in the crowd.

“…being boss!”

He’s smiling but it isn’t the kind of smile that reaches his eyes and Maya knows what that means. She jogs over to him nervously.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” she questions.

“Well, I saw you on the news, I wanted to watch you actually do something.”

His words sting and Maya doesn’t want him there. She has seen him like this before, he is wound up tightly and ready to uncoil – another bomb just waiting to explode.

“Dad, you can’t…”

She wants to tell him that he can’t be here and he should wait for her at the station, or at home, but he cuts her off.

“Don’t dad me. Go do something, Captain! Go!”

Maya shoots him a bemused smile, a discomfort spreading through her body. It is the same discomfort she used to have when she was a teenager, when her dad would watch her chatting to her friends in between laps, knowing that she would get reprimanded once they got home for resting instead of stretching or keeping warm.

Panic flares up inside of her as she walks back to the team and she pushes it down, knowing she needs to concentrate on her work right now with her team in danger. Gibson had said something about a suspicious device before going quiet. 19 are the best, she knows that, but right now they’re trapped in a basement with what might be a third bomb and no way out, and her stomach churns with fear. She knows she can’t let that fear overwhelm her, that it is her job to get them out of there alive.

“Bomb squad are nearly here,” Sato tells her when she rejoins him. If he wonders who the man in the crowd is, he doesn’t ask. “Any more communication from your team?”

Maya shakes her head. “No, nothing.” She pulls her radio towards her mouth. “Gibson? Gibson, do you copy?”

There is no answer and she tries again.

“Gibson?”

All she needs is one word from him and she clenches her jaw in frustration when she doesn’t get a reply.

“Chief Sato?” a voice behind her causes her to turn her head to see a short, stocky man brandishing a Bomb Squad vest.

Sato steps forward. “Officer Turner?”

Turner nods. He is flanked by a number of colleagues, each kitted out in protective gear. They shake hands but don’t bother with pleasantries, knowing that time is critical.

“This is Captain Bishop, Station 19. It’s her team inside.”

“Bring me up to speed,” Turner asks.

“We have 5 firefighters and a civilian trapped in the basement with what we think is a suspicious device,” Maya tells him. “And now we have no communication.”

“They switched off radios to avoid any electrical interference with the detonator,” Turner says. “It’s smart.”

It might be smart but it doesn’t bring Maya any comfort when she can’t communicate with them.

“Our crew is on the move…”

“Hey kiddo!” suddenly her dad is calling for her again. “Kiddo! Come here.” He gestures for her to come closer and he looks pissed. Maya’s heart sinks, but she scurries over to him obediently.

“Hey dad, you should probably wait for me at home,” she says, keeping her tone light, knowing it is a false hope that he’ll go away quietly.

“Your family’s falling apart and you’re playing fire captain?” Lane spits at her.

Maya frowns at his unnecessary insult. “I’m not playing anything, I am captain,” she says.

“Did your mother fill your head with drama?” Lane confronts her. “Hmm? Is that why you’re treating me this way?”

Maya’s instinct tells her to walk away, to get away from her father when he is in this mood. She never could when she was a child, but she has work this time and he will at least respect that – right?

“You know, Dad, I have to go,” she says, turning to leave.

In one swift movement, Lane lifts the tape and ducks under it, striding towards her. “Don’t raise your voice at me, young lady.”

Maya feels self-conscious, knowing that eyes are starting to turn to look at them as he gets riled up. Her heart starts to beat harder in her chest and she takes a deep breath, willing it to calm down.

“Dad, I need you to get back behind the tape,” Maya says, trying to sound more confident than she feels.

Lane holds his ground, refusing to move as he glares angrily at her.

“Dad, interfering with emergency personnel is a crime, I’m not going to ask you again,” Maya says.

“Are you threatening me?” Lane asks, pushing his way into Maya’s space.

Maya takes a deep breath, summoning up as much courage as she can muster. “I am in charge and I’m ordering you to leave my scene.”

Lane squares up to her. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” She turns to leave, refusing to argue with him in front of the crowd.

What happens next takes her by surprise and she is not expecting it when he wraps his hand around her ponytail, yanking it hard. She staggers backwards while she finds the strength to wrestle out of his grip.

“Get your hands off of me!” she yells at him as she pushes him away.

Maya feels herself suddenly surrounded by a mass of people from the fire department, bomb squad and police department. She glares back at him, unable to believe what just happened.

“Oh yeah, oh, you need your big strong men to fight your battles, huh Captain,” Lane taunts her.

Maya snaps. “No Dad, I don’t! I don’t need to win my gold medals for other people. Unlike you, I win them myself!”

Lane Bishop looks taken aback at the way his daughter stands up to him and he falls silent. He is restrained by an officer from SPD and doesn’t bother to struggle, he can do nothing but watch as Maya turns his back on her.

“I’m fine!” Maya barks. “Everybody back to work.”

Maya strides back to the scene, her whole body shaking as she tries to get a hold of her emotions. Her mind spins as she thinks about what just happened: the way her dad turned up at the scene to confront her; the way it turned physical out of the blue; the way she yelled at him in front of a crowd of people, something she has never done before. She rubs the back of her head absentmindedly where her hair was pulled so violently and she tucks her ponytail into the back of her turnout coat. She can feel her hands shaking as she moves, and she curls her fists to hide it. Her heart is racing and she takes a deep breath, desperate to calm herself before the team join her again.

‘Five things you can see,’ she thinks to herself, remembering the grounding technique that Carina taught her. A car, a fire engine, an extended ladder, a hose, broken glass on the ground. ‘Four things you can touch…’

She is walking through the steps as Sato and Turner approach.

“Bishop…?” Sato starts.

“I’m fine,” Maya interjects, softer this time. She doesn’t give them the chance to ask any more questions. “Still no word from 19. How long has it been since Gibson’s message?”

“About 25 minutes,” Sato says. “The team are inside drilling through the debris to get to the basement.”

“How long will it take?” Maya asks, impatient to get her team to safety.

“Hard to say,” Sato answers. “Five, maybe ten minutes.”

Maya nods. There is nothing they can do but wait, except Maya doesn’t have a lot of patience right now. As if the universe knows that she needs a distraction, something catches her eyes and she turns to watch as three police officers approach Chief Dixon, who is still holding court with the press. She can’t quite hear what they say to him, but watches as they cuff him and lead him away. She can’t help but smile as he passes, knowing it is about time he got his comeuppance.

Suddenly, from inside the hospital, there is a muffled boom and her stomach twists in knots.

“What the…” she starts to say. A voice comes through the radio.

“Explosion in the basement,” comes a voice through the radio. “Structure still intact, we’re about to break through.”

Maya lifts her radio. “19? 19, do you copy?” She gets silence again. “Gibson? Hughes? Montgomery? Miller? Warren?” She reels off their names, holding her breath as she waits desperately for one of them will reply to her.

She hears a crackle.

“Bishop?” she hears Jack’s voice.

“Jack! Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Jack says. “Our patient didn’t make it but the rest of us are okay.”

Maya lets out a deep sigh of relief. “Glad to hear it, Lieutenant. Not get your butts out of there.”

“You can proceed,” Chief Sato says to Turner and his team, nodding towards the hospital.

Maya nods her thanks to Turner as he leads his team inside, then turns towards Chief Sato, who is looking at her with concern.

“Listen, about earlier…”

“It won’t happen again, Sir,” Maya says.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Sato says gently. “I was going to say, if you need any assistance, the FD will support you.”

Maya blushes with embarrassment. “Thank you, Sir. I’ll be fine.”

Chief Sato nods and moves across the forecourt to the firefighters from 23. Maya picks up her radio again. “I want bomb squad to comb through every inch of that hospital. If there were four, who knows how many more there are.”

She turns just as the team from 19 emerge from the hospital. Maya has never been so happy to see them. They walk towards her, their arms full of boxes. She watches as they notice the police car pulling away with Dixon in the back seat.

“Is that…?” Jack wonders.

“It sure as hell is,” Ben says, offering a cheeky salute.

“I never want to forget this moment,” Vic says. “I want it etched in my memory forever.”

“Forever and ever,” Travis agrees.

“See? Told y’all,” Dean notes. “Sex offender.”

Maya revels in the sound of their banter. “Why are we carrying rodents, 19?” she asks them.

“Because we’re saving the lives of untold millions,” Jack tells her.

Maya smiles, bemused, as Vic leans in as she passes her.

“You know, like we do,” Vic teases.

Maya watches as they unload the items in their arms. She spies Jack speaking to a member of Station 23 and they both look towards her when they think she is not paying attention, and she guesses that Jack is being told about the incident with her dad. She hates being the subject of gossip but doesn’t have it in her to even shoot them a pissed look at this point.

With her team back to safety and the hospital evacuated except for the bomb squad who were inside looking for more explosives, Maya instructs everyone to head back to the station. She jumps into the engine with Vic, Travis and Ben, only half-listening to them as they recount the moment that Jack carried the bomb to the autoclave. Her mind wanders back to her encounter with her father. She hasn’t heard from him since – no phone calls, no angry messages – and she still feels on edge at what might happen next. It is not like Lane Bishop to back down from a fight.

There is a pulsing ache at back of her head where the force at which he pulled her hair still lingers. Her ponytail feels heavy and she twists her neck back and forth, trying to shake the feeling, but it won’t go away. She has an overwhelming urge to chop it off and free herself from its weight, and the thought sits with her as they drive.

“You okay, Bishop?” Ben asks, noticing how quiet she is.

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m fine. Just feeling the effects from last night,” she lies.

He seems to accept her answer and the conversation turns to the events from the night before, as Vic fills him in on their drunken antics.

They pile into the locker room when they get back to the station, squabbling over who is going to have the first shower. Maya stops by her office first and grabs the pair of scissors from her desk, then slips past everyone else and into the bathroom.

She stares at her reflection in the mirror, her face hard and sad – a far cry from the happiness that used to exude out of her when Carina was around. She wants to go back to the person she was becoming, the person who was learning to fill her life with more than just work. The person who was happy and in love.

Maya hesitates, the tips of her fingers tingling in anticipation of what she is about to do. Maya has had long hair since she was a little girl, when everyone would run their hands over her head and tell her how pretty she was. But the sensation of her father tugging her hair and pulling her backwards lingers and won’t go away, and she wants to be free of it. She wants to be free of him.

With a shaky breath, Maya loosens her ponytail, lifts the scissors and starts to cut. She hears the blades slicing through her hair and it almost makes her stop, but it’s too late now. She has to finish. She doesn’t know how long it takes, but it feels like forever until her ponytail comes loose in her left hand. She lets go of the breath she was holding as she takes in how short and choppy her hair is now.

She looks different somehow. Even though she is used to seeing her face with her hair scraped back, her new bob looks strange on her. It doesn’t really change how she is feeling. The pain and regret are still there, threatening to overwhelm her if she just gives them the opportunity.

Jack finds her a few moments later and she glances at him via the reflection in the mirror.

“I was so stupid,” she says bluntly. “Everyone saw the truth about my dad but me. Everyone.”

Jack leans against the doorframe, watching her. He can tell that she is processing what happened this afternoon and he hangs back, giving her the space she needs. “It’s how these things usually go,” he says with a small shrug.

“I ruined the best relationship I ever had because of him,” Maya says bitterly.

Jack doesn’t know what went down between Maya and Carina, but he knows that he has never seen Maya as happy and content as she has been these last few months, and he knows she’d be a fool not to try and make amends. “You could apologise.”

Maya drops her head sorrowfully. “It’s too late for that. Way too late.”

“You’d be surprised how far an ‘I’m sorry’ can get you,” Jack says pointedly.

Maya knows she treated him like crap that day, that she had been mean and had preyed on his weaknesses to get him to stop pushing her so hard. She had been so caught up in her own feelings that she hadn’t stopped to think about his.

She turns to look at him. “I’m sorry, Jack.”

Jack offers her a small smile in acceptance of her apology. “We’re all going to the houseboat, gonna raise a glass to Dixon’s demise,” he says, inviting her to join them.

Maya smiles gratefully, but shakes her head. “No, I can’t. Have fun.”

Jack nods, understanding her reasons, and points at her hair. “Hair looks kinda cool.”

Maya smiles despite the tears that pool in her eyes. Jack turns and walks away, leaving her alone with her thoughts. The truth is, she has been too scared to apologise to Carina. Too scared to admit how badly she hurt her, too scared to see the inevitable anger in Carina’s eyes. Too scared to admit that she made a mistake because she wasn’t ready to face the truth of what everyone had been saying and acknowledge that her childhood had been hard and exhausting. Too scared of Carina telling her that she will never forgive her.

Except if she never apologises, she will never know if she can earn back Carina’s trust, and she wants that more than anything.

Maya runs her hand over the ponytail in her hand and takes a deep breath, before heading out of the bathroom, knowing what she needs to do. She ignores the curious glances that come from her team as they take in her newly cut hair; she doesn’t see Jack shake his head at them, silently telling them not to ask any questions as she walks out of the locker room and towards her office.

She changes quickly, grabs her bag and heads out to her car. It is a short drive to the hospital and she has no time to think about what she is going to say to Carina when she sees her. She knows what she wants to say, the words have been swirling around her head all week so she is just going to wing it and hope that it is enough.

She pulls into the car park and jumps out of her car, heading for the front entrance. She doesn’t see Carina at first, too focused on her destination as she strides along the path, weaving in and out of the people around her, but the pale pink colour of her scrubs catches her eye as she passes her talking to a surgeon she doesn’t recognise. Maya stops and takes a deep breath, knowing it is now and never. She turns.

“Carina.”

#station 19 #grey's anatomy #maya bishop #carina deluca #station 19 fanfiction #FINALLY!#serendipity #my fanfiction

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faireladypenumbra · 3 years

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A Life Thoroughly Lived: Review of The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue (Spoilers Ahead)

(Cover, Titan Books UK). I have this distinct memory from when I was twelve: sitting in a McDonald’s after a morning in my homeschool e-learning program, eating french fries and reading the school’s library copy of Cornelia Funke’s Inkheart. This book was groundbreaking for me for a multitude of reasons, but one of its quotes became firmly stuck in my mind. Meggie’s father and secondary protagonist, Mo, reflects on books through this line: “Some books should be tasted, some devoured, but only few should be chewed and digested thoroughly.” This line becomes entangled with my 12-year-old psyche, and I never quite let it go. The idea fascinated me: not only the novel idea of comparing books to nourishment, but the point that some books are not made to be read quickly and once. Some books are chewed and digested thoroughly.

I read that quote in 2005, and even then, at the cusp of the digital tipping point and prior to the smartphone, you could feel the inglorious pressure to consume anything you read if you read for pleasure at all. Conversations with my peers about books were rare, and what bonds I did have about creative writing were made over the internet via fanfiction.net: that wouldn’t change again until Twilight hit it big a few years later. To enjoy a book was to binge it and consume its content only, and so this quote wasn’t entirely understandable until I entered college- and became a writer myself, when I discovered the merit of craft.

This feels like a long way of saying I enjoyed one book, but I cannot stress the rarity of true craft in fantasy fiction. Genre fiction in general has a history of shaving off literary merit and form in favor of YA-style writing and clipped, action-oriented narration. It is what’s popular and there’s nothing wrong with this style of writing, but it is a style of writing made to be devoured. I often hoped to encounter that one modern fantasy novel, made to by chewed and digested slowly.

This brings me to The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue.

If you exist on the internet’s writing/reading spaces, you probably know V.E. Schwab, whose prolific career now spans a decade. Her most popular works, including her Villains and Shades of Magic series, tower over the 2010s as important entries to the SFF world, alongside a young generation of female authors— Naomi Novik, Leigh Bardugo, Seanan McGuire, N.K Jemisen, to name a few, who have helped change the definitions of SFF and what it means for women to participate in male-dominated writing spaces.

This is perhaps what makes Addie LaRue so visibly important, because its role as a serious, literary work as well as a groundbreaking fantasy novel, fully cements Schwab’s role as an important author of the 2010s.

The story of Addie LaRue is simple enough: in a small French village in 1714, Adaline LaRue finds herself at odds with her world: her desire to travel, her attraction to the old gods, and her want to experience life are combated by a world that expects her to marry and have children, living and dying in the same plot of land. With an arranged marriage at her heels, Adaline only desires freedom, adventure, and more time in a dwindling, small life. Against the advice of her village’s wise woman, Estele, Adaline prays to any god that will offer her a means of escaping this cruel fate.

Her desperation attracts the wrong god, who agrees to take her soul in exchange for a life without limits. This grants Adaline immortality, neither aging nor dying. But at the cost of her presence: anyone who encounters Adaline LaRue forgets her, the moment she is out of view. Any mark that Adaline leaves is erased, any suggestion of her past life is smeared from existence. The god— or Devil, erases her being in hopes of making her give up her soul. Adaline spends the next 300 years in limbo, forgotten and invisible to the world, until a New York bookseller catches her stealing from his shop and remembers her face.

The story itself oscillates being Addie’s present: New York in 2014, and her past, reaching back to pertinent flashbacks about her life in rural France, out onto the wider world over 300 years of life. Rather than clashing, these two timelines compliment each other, allowing Addie’s past to compliment the unending road that is Addie’s future. And unlike some immortal characters, the weight of the 300 years can be felt in Addie’s character while she wanders the labyrinth of a modern New York.

While heavily populated with 300 years-worth of characters, the novel uses most of its time on Addie, her infernal deal broker, a supernatural being she calls Luc, and Henry Strauss, a bookseller in New York with his own set of secrets and heartbreak. One might argue that the relationships between Henry, Luc, and Addie constitute a love triangle label, but their dynamics are far more complicated given the “magic” and sexual identities involved.

One refreshing element about Addie LaRue is that both main characters, Addie and Henry, are explicitly bisexual in a way that feels humanistic and real. Addie’s view on relationships is complex, simply because she cannot maintain a relationship beyond first encounters. Her liaisons, modern and historical, become a conversation with her personal relationship with eternity. Her relationship with Luc is also complicated, evolving from lustful daydream about the “perfect stranger,” to willful tormenter across her deathless existence, and finally, a troubled companion in a lifetime where only Luc understands Addie’s painful existence.

Henry Strauss comes to Addie’s life as the first human to remember her in over 300 years: their romance is sweet, passionate, but forever marred by the fact that both parties are somehow cursed. Their existence together is fragile, and as presented by the novel, a tenuous moment in a long life. Henry changes Addie’s trajectory, simply because his existence feels so short in the scope of her eternity.

With all that said, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRueisn’t so much a love story about Henry Strauss or Luc, as it is about Addie LaRue understanding herself. It is a love letter to a young woman, forever trapped in her early 20s by a single, impulsive choice. 500 pages (at least, on my edition) and most of book is spent on Addie’s life: the evolution of her moral justifications for theft, prostitution, and overall survival. Her strained views on humanity as her lovers and acquaintances age and die around her.

A particularly interesting, recurring flashback is Addie’s annual trip to her childhood home, Villon-Sur-Sarthe, in which she returns to witness the passage of time in the village. Like Dorian Gray and his portrait, Addie’s home withers and folds into the extended woods before it is bulldozed into modern land, all while she remains the same. Her family is buried, her friends are gone. Addie attempts to leave signs of her ghostly existence in the village by planting a tree, only to discover it struck down in a storm during her final visit. When she blames Luc for the destruction, yet again, her reminds her: “I know I can be cruel, but nature can be crueler.”

Unlike Dorian Gray, this is no polite justice to strike down Addie LaRue, which complicates the morals of the novel. Addie LaRue’s narrator is not interested in moral judgements or rounded poeticism as we observe the long life of this immortal woman, instead exploring Addie’s personal, sexual, and internal changes as a matter of an existence beyond the shackles of normal humanity. The narrative choice of third person, present tense lends itself considerably to this fact, allowing the reader to experience Addie’s life in real time and alongside her present and past selves. One very interesting narrative choice, during flashbacks, is the occasional intrusion of the narrator by way of the word “will.” Moments of tragedy and difficulty will flash through past-Addie’s life, only for the narrator to gesture elsewhere and let us know what impact this choice “will” have on Addie’s life later.

It is a very clever slight of hand, since it keeps the audience moving between past and present without distracting away from the story overall. Rather than tipping its hand too heavily, the narrator offers breadcrumbs to the audience in an overfolding adventure, encouraging us to follow Addie from rural France, out to Paris, Venice, Berlin, over into the Americas, from Chicago to New Orleans. These locations and details would feel massive and glossed over, if not for the narrator’s active participation as a storyteller.

This narration also helps the reader comprehend the scope of Addie’s growth, offering a more mythical perspective on a woman who is human— but not quite. Addie is cursed, yes, but finds strength and power in weaponizing the curse against Luc. She plants herself in the minds of artists, musicians, and writers who find ways to pepper her presence along history, as delicate as the seven freckles that constantly appear in her portrayals. Addie LaRue is forgotten but reaches across history in a deep desire to be remembered and ageless.

The novel’s end, without spoilers, arguably accomplishes this goal. I’m not sure yet if the ending is supposed to be happy or not, which is perhaps why I enjoyed it so much. The book required more thought than the average fantasy piece: it was written with the idea that it should be read slowly and digested thoroughly. Every word, detail, and choice are made with reason, like a cog that helps move a clock’s gears. Nothing is wasted in this novel, both craftsmanship and good storytelling coming together for a truly enrapturing experience. I will try to revisit The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue in the near future, to draw more magic from its well. I hope you’ll consider exploring its pages too, and I have high hopes for the future career of V.E. Schwab.

#the invisible life of addie larue #ve schwab #spoilers #amreading #review #writing #booklr #writeblr

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