#meaning that he would chase you through his hotel and you would have to sabotage him while avoiding obstacles

[majormeilani]

oh also it's been decided (by mice and i) that in a hypothetical gameplay setting, if cassidy or nicole dealt damage to the player, they would both do two hit points of damage each hit as compared to the other characters who only do one hit point of damage each hit. (save for empress because she destroys you in one direct hit. and i guess vanessa too? considering if you get caught by her you die instantly)

to balance this there would be special heart pons (which would be able to restore two health pons and MAYBE offer temporary invincibility. lore wise i want to say these were developed by my other ahit oc, rin, because she's a doctor and was looking for quick healing methods) these would be found in a level where you would fight them to be collected. environmental things in the level such as hazards would still do one hit point of damage though.

there is one buffer for cassidy that if you wear barbara, who is his black widow spider pet and acts like a "badge" on your main hat, he would only deal one hit point of damage to you if he managed to strike you.

i would like to think that cassidy and nicole both don't play around in the situation where they want someone dead and are significantly more ruthless than the elder bird directors.

teehee fun to think about.

[arjaandsimoni]

The Howling House

“Just sort it out Fullmoon! I’m paying you enough!”

The older man shouted across the desk, wearing a three piece suit and sweating uncomfortably in the balmy southern heat.

Alabama wasn’t a major tourist destination, but sometimes the rich and powerful liked it as a vacation home, if only so they could sneer at everyone in the state who wasn’t rich and powerful like they were. Also there was apparently some good golfing.

“Just saying, we would need to know as much as we can about the situation beforehand.” replied Nelen, sitting in a leather armchair across the desk from him. This client was getting on his nerves, but he’d always had issues with guys like him. They reminded him too much about why he had what he did on his hands.

Dawn just sat nearby grinning, the feline shapeshifter in her human form at the moment, wearing her usual baggy jeans, sock hat, and shiny reflective sunglasses to hide her less-than-human nature. Her purple teeshirt sported a grinning depiction of Disney’s take on the Cheshire Cat from the animated version of Alice in Wonderland.

The man sighed, “All I know is that rotten old house is sitting right where I want to build my summer home… but every work crew I send in gets chased off. Machinery gets sabotaged, huge claw marks in engine blocks, and now someone has turned up dead.” he huffed, “I want this sorted out before the police get involved! I don’t want a scandal! Find out what the hell is doing this and get RID of it!” he snapped.

Nelen nodded, “Claw marks… any idea what kind of claw marks?” he asked.

“NO!” he shouted, “THAT’S WHAT I’M PAYING YOU TO FIND OUT! NOW GET TO IT!” he retorted, spit flying from his mouth.

Nelen held up his hands, “Alright alright, Dawn and I will go take a look around the site and see what we can figure out.” he nodded, getting to his feet and nodding for his ‘daughter’ to join him.

She hopped to her feet, then with a smirk said “Later, scotch breath.” and followed Nelen out of the office, the man glaring at her. He had a five-year coin from Alcoholics Anonymous framed on his wall.

He rolled his eyes at her, “Jeez Dawn, he’d better not cut our fee.” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh come on, I had to. So any idea what this one could be?” she asked.

“Probably not a ghost at least, I mean claw marks implies something corporeal, but if they’re in an engine block that could be something dangerous. Those things are cut from solid steel normally, they can take a beating.” he nodded. “Its late though, we’ll hit the hotel tonight and head out first thing tomorrow.”

Later, at their Hotel

The hotel was a nice one for once. Not exactly amazing, but one of the better Holiday Inns in the area. Clearly the client wanted this done. There were two empty pizza boxes on the table next to the TV, along with a half empty two liter of Coke and an empty pint of milk. Nelen stretched out on the bed, flipping through urban legend wikis on his tablet as Dawn watched a re-run of the classic William Shatner Star Trek series, her tail swishing behind her.

“Hm… okay, this might be something.” said Nelen, “Dog Boy. Apparently there was this kid in the 1950s who actually lived at a house in the area, real sick bastard too. He’d catch animals and torture them, locked up his parents apparently too. He died of a drug overdose in prison though.” he said.

Dawn hissed at that, “Oh EW. We got a slasher?! Ugh… I hate those guys! They always come after innocent cats first!” she glared, her tail thrashing about angrily.

“Well, not necessarily Dawn. He said claw marks on an engine block, even a grizzly bear would have a hard time doing that. Whatever is there probably isn’t human, or at least not a mundane.” he nodded, “Of course, this is an Urban Legend wiki. It could be something totally different, or the story could be bullshit."

Dawn shrugged, “Eh, we’ll find out tomorrow I guess.” she nodded.

Nelen nodded too, glancing back over that story. “Hm…” he muttered.

An abandoned house in rural Alabama.

The rental car pulled up outside of the house, the two of them climbing out of it. It was a fairly big house, nothing massive but definitely the kind of house that said ‘someone who had some decent money lived in me once.’ What architecture remained suggested it predated the 1950s at least, possibly made in the 1920s or earlier. The left side was busted in, clearly where the demolition work had begun, but the rest was still standing.

The same couldn’t be said for the construction equipment. A bulldozer’s engine was indeed sporting several deep gashes on it, severing a fuel line and leaving a spark plug missing, and a crane’s arm had been completely ripped off as well. Nelen frowned at those, walking up to the house. “Hm…” he sighed, “Well shit, guess we gotta at least check…” he shrugged, flexing his hands, then walking in along with Dawn.

The inside of the house had seen better days. Grime and dust covered most surfaces, the furniture out of date by several decades, at least what wasn’t wrecked. Dawn hissed, her tail floofing, “GUH! What the fuck is that smell?! I… oh.” she paused as they turned a corner and found, well, most of a deer.

It had been torn open, the inside left to rot, its entrails spilling out onto the floor. “That… narrows the field a bit.” said Nelen, looking down at it. In the gloom it was hard to make out, but he could tell that whatever had pulled it apart had done so with its teeth.

“Nelen… we should probably get going…” she whined, her ears folded back. She had untucked her tail and left her hat and glasses in the car. Nobody was around to see that she wasn’t human anyways.

The mage nodded, “Yeah, I need to check some stuff back at the hotel.” he muttered. He’d brought his messenger bag with him, but he had a feeling that this would require some serious prep work.

As they left, Dawn’s nose twitched again, the feline girl whining softly in the back of her throat…

Back at the Hotel

When they got back to the hotel however they found the concierge waiting outside their room, with the police.

“THERE you are!” he shouted, “Officer! Arrest this vandal!” he snapped.

Nelen took a step back, “Woah woah! Hang on! We just got back, whats this all about?” he asked.

“Whats this all about… your room is completely destroyed! You had better believe I’ll be pressing charges for this Mr. Ferguson!” he shouted, and Nelen immediately glanced at the cop. He’d signed in under a false name. This could be getting messy…

“Hey! If someone trashed the place it wasn’t me. Me and my kid were out driving around today, c’mon whats this all about?” he asked.

“See for yourself!” frowned the concierge, standing back and jerking a thumb towards the room. Nelen walked to the door and winced.

The mattress on the bed had been torn to pieces, the TV taken apart as if by a hammer, and scratched into the wall above the bed were the words ‘Go Away!’

“Okay, look. I know this looks bad, but this wasn’t me. Check the security cameras! You’ll see me and my kid leaving hours ago!” he insisted.

The cop however was far more composed than the hotel worker. “Afraid Mr. Ferguson is right sir. What we could see on the cameras clearly showed he left the premises.” he nodded, “That being said, about two hours ago the camera on this floor wound up in the same state as your room, so we can’t prove whether or not you came back…” he added as the concierge grinned in a smug way.

“Someone is going to pay to have this room rebuilt sir, and the room is in YOUR name.” he nodded.

Nelen glanced between them, then sighed… “Fine fine, I guess if I gotta then I go- DAWN!” he shouted, ducking as the girl scrambled up his back, whipped off her glasses, and there was a sudden bright flash from her eyes.

The cop and the concierge dropped to the floor like puppets with their strings cut, the cop gasping and frantically pawing at his shirt as the concierge whimpered and covered his mouth, his eyes rolling in their sockets.

“Spiders and scorpions, we got a minute tops.” she nodded. “Poof to the car and initiate Plan fifty three?”

“Got it in one Dawn.” he replied.

Plan fifty three: RUN LIKE HELL!

A minute later a rental car was burning rubber out of the parking lot, Nelen speeding off down the road and sighing. “Dammit, I liked that place too.” he frowned. He was glad he’d at least kept their luggage in the car this time.

“Yeaaaaaaah, pity. Ah well, back to the ‘bedbugs, whats that, never heard of ‘em’ hotels for us.” she shrugged.

Nelen sighed and nodded, grateful that his partner could pull that trick off.

Dawn was a mixed breed, half tortoiseshell cat, half Cheshire cat… as in the Cheshire cat of Wonderland, and besides the teleportation and invisibility the grinning feline was known for she also had another trick that hadn’t made it into the works of Lewis Carrol.

They called it her ‘Wonderland Eyes.’ Dawn carried a little piece of Wonderland inside her and by making eye contact she could show it to anyone, inflicting them with hallucinations and insanity temporarily. There’s only so much the human mind can cope with. Still that meant that they would have a cop who after the spiders went away would have had every reason to believe he was fleeing the scene of a crime.

“Well, at least we know something. Whatever did this is able to pass among humanity.” he nodded.

“Oh?” she asked.

“Those claw marks on the walls were the same kind on that engine block. I think whatever lives in that house saw us there today and figured out where we were staying somehow…” he sighed, “Fucking hells I bet I know what it is too.” he nodded.

Then he told her.

Dawn winced, “Yeaaaaah, had a hunch. I mean I smelled something like that back there, but I was hoping it was just the mundane kind.” she frowned.

He sighed, “Well, at least I can say I’m doing the family business this time.” he smirked ruefully, “Either way, we gotta get back to that house, preferably before dark.” he nodded.

Soon, back at the half-ruined house.

From the gloom of the house came a snarling snapping sound, an elderly looking hobo of a man hunched over what was once a wild raccoon. His face and hair were matted with blood, his clothes clearly second hand. “Fuckers better go after that…” he snarled, then paused, sniffing at the air as he heard something nearby.

“Yanno, I really liked that room.” came a voice from the shadows of the ruined house.

The man snarled, baring his teeth. “MY LAIR! GET OUT! MINE!” he barked.

“If they make me pay for it, I’m going to be pissed.” he said, the voice echoing oddly.

The man glared around him, sniffing, but the scent was… gone? He couldn’t smell anything of him, even soap. “Who’re you?” he grunted.

“Sorry that rich asshole wants your house. He must’ve believed the story about you dying of an overdose in prison, but a bit of heroin won’t stop one of you for long will it?” came Nelen’s voice. “Your parents had no idea did they? Must’ve been a recessive gene somewhere. First change came and you had nobody to tell you what was going on or show you how to cope with it.”

The man snarled, his eyes flashing dangerously in the darkness of the wrecked house. “Monster! They called me a monster! Their fucking son! I had to… I had hunt! I had to chase and bite and tear and eat!” he snarled.

“Pity... You’d think one of the local packs would have found you, but I guess they might not have realized what was up until after you got arrested.” came Nelen’s voice again. “Too late now. Wrong guy noticed you. He wants a neat summer home in Arkansas, but I think a rich businessman like that would find the idea of capturing you to sell you off to the Cheiron Group to be way too good a payout to pass up.”

The hobo snarled again, and as he did his body seemed to get bigger.

“Its not your fault, I’m still willing to help you escape. Plenty of wilder areas around here where some of your kind still live out in the open, though a half-feral like you would be a really hard sell…” his voice came again.

The hobo glared, baring fangs from a now long furry muzzle, his clothing tearing free from his body. He barely noticed it, his clawed feet pawing at the floor as he straightened up to a full ten feet in height.

“… but we gotta do something. You did good staying hidden for a long time, but we can’t have a lone werewolf running wild.” came Nelen’s voice.

The werewolf roared in fury, breathing in deeply, his ears twitching and flicking around.

“Don’t bother, I’m using a scent charm and a cantrip to throw my voice. I could be standing right behind you, I could be outside the damn house.” came Nelen’s voice again, “Ever hear of Clan Fullmoon? We specialize in werewolves. We were formed to deal with the old cannibal packs of Ireland. I’m not some jackass with a gun and a hat that says ‘bounty hunter’ old man, I know what I’m doing.”

The werewolf ignored him and lunged, smashing through a half-rotted kitchen table, scattering the wood! His head snapping up as he sniffed around again, trying to find some trace of a smell.

“Yeah, see, this is how I can tell. Any werewolf in a pack knows how to balance man and beast, but you? You’re all beast now. You never learned how. Your soul is so far outta whack you can’t even understand what I’m saying anymore can you?” asked Nelen.

The werewolf lunged again, crashing through a wall!

“Yep, thought so. Well fine then.” he said, and from outside the house came a faint whistling sound. “Here boy! Here puppy! Over here! C’mon boy!”

A moment later the front door and most of the wall around it came down as the werewolf charged through it, seeing a man shaped figure on the ground. “Oooo! Almost! C’mon boy! You can do it! Fetch the stick boy!”

The werewolf roared in fury, rushing towards the prone figure, then tackling it and digging his teeth in.

A moment later there was a crash of thunder and the werewolf went rigid as a bolt of lightning arced down from the sky and slammed into him, sending him flying with a loud yelp!

“Goooood boy. Sit. Stay.” came Nelen’s voice as he walked into view with a stick that had several runes carved onto it, lowering the hand he was using to direct the soundwaves, a strange wooden charm dangling from a string around his wrist.

The werewolf lay unconscious next to the smoldering remains of the scarecrow Nelen had swiped from a local farm, the sack cloth man set ablaze by the lightning bolt. Laying on the ground nearby was a copper coin inscribed with the symbol of Thor’s hammer. Not an Irish trick, but hell, shock collars worked on mundane dogs. For a werewolf you just had to scale up appropriately.

“So now what? We stick a silver knife through his heart?” asked Dawn as she appeared next to him.

Nelen looked down at the stunned lycanthrope, then sighed, “… his own fucking parents called him a monster Dawn, you heard him.”

Dawn rolled her eyes, “You’re not seriously considering…” she frowned.

“Yeah, I made a call while you were in the bathroom at the library. C’mon, get the back door open.” he said, taking out a charm that looked like a crescent moon. “I’ll make sure Fido stays asleep.” he said, tying it around the stunned werewolf’s wrist.

The wilds of Alabama, some time later.

The werewolf’s eyes flew open. It was nighttime now, the moon high in the sky, and he was far from his lair.

He snarled, looking around. This area smelled different, very different, where was he?! Where did that human take him?! Where…

And then a howl went up in the distance, his ears going up.

He could understand that howl… it had no words, but somehow… he just knew.

‘We are like you, we understand, come to us brother.’

The werewolf gazed out across the wilderness. He’d ached to hear such a thing for years and years… more than he could count. He threw his head back and howled in response, then tore off into the woods towards the source of the sound. He was an old wolf, it had taken years, but the one thing that a werewolf couldn’t exist properly without was their pack.

Nelen sat nearby on the hood of the car, then opened his phone and called a specific number, “Yeah. Hey yeah its me. House is all clear now. Your men can get back to work tomorrow. Just wire the money to…” he paused, then pinched the bridge of his nose, “Yeah look, that wasn’t my fault. The mark found out where we were staying and came after me okay? The hotel is insured right?” he asked, then sighed, “Alright alright fine… whatever.” he sighed, then disconnected the call.

Dawn looked over at him, laying on her back as she gazed up at the stars. They were far enough from the cities that they could see them properly. “Hotel wants him to pay for the room?” she asked.

He sighed, “To be fair Dawn, he did make the reservation so it’s his card on file.” he replied.

Dawn rolled her eyes, “Sheesh, so we’re doing this pro-bono?” she asked.

Nelen smirked, “No, because I already know you emptied his wallet before we left the office that day.”

Dawn grinned at him, “Whaaaaaaaat? I thought the rule was client always pays up front, even if they don’t know they are.” she replied.

Nelen smirked, “So, we definitely can’t go back to that town for a while. Swap the rental’s plates, head down to New Orleans, and invest some of that at the fish market?” he asked.

Dawn grinned as only a Cheshire can grin, “Now THAT sounds like a good idea!” she cackled. In the distance, another howl went up, and you didn’t need to be a wolf (or a wolf-like being) to recognize that the one howling was happy.

Next Story

Previous Story

[writing-in-april]

Unintentionally Unrequited

Lesley Smith-Juniment x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Reader tries to hold back their love for Lesley while he’s still reeling from his broken engagement.

A/N: Hey Heyyy!!!! This is my first fic for Lesley guys!!! It’s also my twenty-fourth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April! It’s based on this request- I had a lot of fun with it!!! (Hope I got his character right 🤞) Lol low key I might have been projecting my love of the cold in the first paragraph- im sorry to all my warm weather lovers!!! 😂 Feel free to leave an ask here (I promise I don’t bite, I swear) Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

Warnings: I swear three times- that’s it 🥰

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.5k

The sun beat down hard on me, making my eyes squint and my skin hotter than I would have liked. Normally I would have been wallowing in misery as I thrived in the cold, even though I lived in Texas. That’s where my job was and that’s where Lesley was, so I swallowed up my complaints, especially now.

Lesley was grabbing our drinks, which was more of a challenge than I expected. I watched him stumble about a million times in his closed toed Birkenstocks he still insisted on wearing, kicking up streams of sand while the concession worker snickered. Instead of laughing like most I smiled brightly, finding it incredibly endearing rather than using it as a reason to make fun of him. I may have not found his closed toed Birkenstocks very fashionable, but he loved them, and I loved him.

I could only say that in my head though, he was still unequivocally in love with Summer- even though she had stomped on his heart. He had thought he found love and watched it cruelly be ripped away from him when Summer broke off their engagement. Normally with whirlwind engagements it was expected that they wouldn’t last. But, with Lesley and Summer I had really thought that they would stand the test of time. I loved him too much to break the fragile happiness he had, though it turns out someone was going to do it for me anyway.

Lesley was still holding a torch for her, I could tell by the way he got a little melancholic sometimes when he talked to me. I did my best to get his mind off of it, that’s why we were here, on this unremarkable beach.

I was glad I at least did something good when I whisked him away to the beach for a while so he wouldn’t have to see Summer or be reminded of her. I knew that eventually we’d have to go back, but it was nice to pretend in this utopia I had crafted for us for the time being, even if the beach was slightly shitty. And, I meant that literally; there was tons of uncleared bird poop everywhere. We had to find a specific spot that was somewhat secluded to find a spot not covered in it.

When he came back with our drinks, it was a little more graceful than the first time, though the worker still laughed when his back was turned, which earned him a glare from me. As we sipped on our slushies while sitting on a rickety bench by the beach, I contemplated everything that had happened in recent months. I had been by his side through it all, mostly with my eyes blown wide at how ridiculous it all was.

Six months ago we had been very different people, sure we had the same personalities and acted relatively the same. But, our experiences over the last months have changed us into different people. I still knew Lesley, better than anyone, and certainly better than Summer claimed.

It was getting too difficult to keep trapped up inside anymore, each day I chose to say nothing made it even more painful. I sucked on my staw, trying to keep it bottled up, keeping it down by the colorful ice that tasted artificially sweet. It felt like I was choking on the love, it wanted to spill out and compel me to confess even though I didn’t want to.

Before I even knew what I was saying it started to tumble out, bubbling up to the surface getting ready to explode any friendship Lesley and I had,

“I know you never will feel the same way, but I have to tell you this,” He cocked his head to the side in question, not expecting what was about to come out of my mouth next, “I love you.”

His mind had obviously short circuited going by the look on his face, jaw dropped open, eyes blown wide, and fingers shaking in shock. It took him a minute to process, frozen in the same place trying to understand what I had just said.

Not long ago he had made the same confession to someone that ultimately ended up leaving him heartbroken. I was afraid I was due for my own dose of unrequited love.

His body must have caught up with his mind as he stood up, knocking over his red colored slushy in the process, staining the sand. He was rubbing the front of his khaki shorts in panic, I grabbed them without thinking; he could hate me now and never want to touch me again.

However, he did not pull away from me, in fact he gripped my hands in a tighter hold while he also squeezed his eyes shut a few times. I opened my mouth to say something, but found myself completely choked up at Lesley’s own admission, “I love you too.”

“I thought you still loved Summer?” Tears were falling down my face, but each drop was quickly brushed to the side by my hands, not wanting to have Lesley see me cry. I had thought Summer had meant the world to him, the way he looked at her made me think that he’d never look at me the same way. I had never even thought to turn around and see if he was looking at me in the first place.

“No, I don’t she was- Never mind it doesn’t even matter. All that matters is that I love you- it’s always been you. You’re the only person who really knows me, really sees me for me.” His hands enveloped my cheeks with cold from him holding the slushy cup while he said his own confession, much more wordy than my own. With his confession heat began to bloom in my cheeks, warming up his cold hands. They were warming up from sheer embarrassment rather than the sun that was still beating down on us overhead. It seemed so silly now, to keep my love for him secret while he walked into a romance his heart wasn’t fully in.

“I’m sorry.” I meekly whispered, dipping my head down in shame.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because I didn’t tell you…” He then tipped my head up to look at him with confidence I didn’t often see from him.

“You told me now and- that’s all that matters.” Bridging the gap that had slowly been decreasing between the two of us, surprisingly he initiated the kiss.

His lips tasted like the cherry slushy he had been drinking, mixed with the blue raspberry one I had been downing. It was a sugary sweet combo almost sickly, but all I wanted was more. I had deprived myself of the sugar I had been pining for, for so long, I didn’t care if it was somewhat overwhelming to my taste buds.

We had both been idiots, colossal idiots for not getting the nerve to open our mouths and speak up to one another. Though maybe I was the bigger idiot because I had watched him pretend to love someone else, not noticing all the looks he had probably thrown my way. I had been so convinced that he would never love me back that I let the sweetness of him be used by someone else, even though it was always meant for me. Running my fingers through his hair I pulled him even closer to me, touching him without pause or thought of the repercussions. It felt good to be free, like I was flying high up above the clouds unrestricted by my own self doubting thoughts that always tried to sabotage me.

Lesley had been kissing me back with the same amount of force as I was, not a shred of hesitation in sight as he sucked on my bottom lip. Unfortunately I had to let him go when I noticed the concession’s vendor eyeing the two of us while eating a bag of peanuts. Glaring hard again at the man I then refocused onto Lesley, and I never wanted to stop looking. He seemed disappointed at first when we seperated; he had tried to chase my lips as if that would be his first and only taste. I gave him a quick kiss on the tip of his button nose, another taste of the affection he’d be treated to as long as he’d let me give it to him. Speaking softly I then expanded on my confession from earlier, “I promise there’ll be more where that came from- I love you and I never want to let you go.”

He looked down at our intertwined fingers still with shock, he brought them up to his lips, giving his own affection to the tops of my hands with two sweet pecks. “I love you too.” He then mumbled into our palms, giving them one last peck before releasing them.

Tugging his hands I then walked backwards towards our shitty hotel rooms that matched the shitty beach, though I wouldn’t be separating from him once we reached mine. “Come on let’s go.” I said with another tug before breaking out into a run with him right behind, ready to start our adventure of requited love.

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (fill out this form to join):

Strike through means tumblr won’t let me tag you- check your privacy settings

All Works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @spenxerslut @boxofsparklingmuses @katexrichardson @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story @cosmic-psychickitty

[morizoras-cave]

Action (Request)

James McAvoy x teen!co-star!reader

Genre: slight angst, fluff

Request Description: okay cool! i've got a request, then: a teen!co-star!reader x james mcavoy where she gets an injury and tries to play it off as if she's fine and james notices and makes sure she gets proper medical attention and comforts her but scolds her about keeping it a secret if that makes sense. thank you!

Warnings: reader gets physically hurt, language, slight insecurity (ish)

(A/N): okay so, i didnt make a fic yesterday and i feel slightly bad, but its cool hahaha. im going home from vacation tomorrow, so ill have a little bit more time

“You don’t know anything!” you trembled, full of emotion. You braced yourself. You were currently filming the scene that you had rehearsed for weeks. Your character was going to be chased down by James’ character, in an attempt to fix their broken familial relationship. It was intense and difficult to shoot.

“Then tell me!” James was just as full of emotion, frustration and desperation painted on his face . He was bracing himself too, you could tell. You shook your head, just as scripted, and when James stepped towards you, you flinched back. “Tell me.”

That was your cue. You grabbed the windowsill of the open window, smoothly swinging out and landing several meters down. James looked out at you from it, and there was a moment where you stared at each other, before you dashed away, and he scrambled to get down the stairs. 

You were already running down the street, panting. Why did your director have to be so realistic? It would pay off. You hoped. 

The door to the house swung open violently and you saw James’ form exit, already sprinting towards you. Dozens of cameras were catching the entire scene.

James was much taller than you, legs and stamina allowing him to catch up quickly. 

“Shit,” you mumbled, looking around desperately. You quickly found the junkyard you were supposed to enter, constructed solely for the movie. You jumped over a white fence, entering the property of another person, to shortcut to the yard. James was right behind you. 

You continued into the junkyard, where you did several more stunts, jumping up and over things, squeezing in between narrow rows of trash. It was going very well, right up until the point where you had to jump from one heap of trash to another. 

You hesitated, both because it was scripted, but also because it was a terrifyingly large jump. I mean, you’d practiced it a ton, so you’d be able to do it, right?

You looked back and saw James there. He gave you a warning look, and you angled your head in response. Then you turned away and ran, jumping over the massive gap. 

You knew right away you wouldn’t make it. The trash gave away under you, sabotaging your jump. Flying through the air, you tried desperately to grasp the edge, so you wouldn’t fall. You almost did it, grabbing an old boot from the pile, when the boot lodged itself out of its position, breaking off your only hold on the pile.

You fell to the ground with a terrifying scream. The dust rose as you hit the earthy floor. 

The crew immediately stopped and several people came to your aid. James ran up to you, face strewn into concern and horror. He grabbed your shoulder and looked you in the eyes. 

“Y/n! Are you okay? That was quite a fall,” he said. You shook your head dismissively. 

God, that was so embarrassing. You had practiced it for weeks, and still managed to fail and waste all of these peoples time! 

“I’m good, it didn’t hurt that much,” you lied. Oh boy, it hurt. Your shoulder and arms hurt and most terrifyingly, your head hurt. But you had already wasted the crew’s time, you couldn’t postpone this by being whiney. 

“You sure?” James asked, seemingly not convinced. You gave him a smile, hoping it didn’t look too strained, as it fought through the needle-like, pulsing pain all over your body. 

The director asked if you could do it again and you agreed. You did the stunt right on the second take, and although it hurt like a bitch trying to do all of it after your fall, it was worth it. 

After the scene was short several times (to your anguish), the day was wrapped up and every started getting out of their costumes and getting ready to go home. 

You and James had gotten into the habit of walking back to the hotel together, and chatting along the way, so you grabbed your things and met him by the entrance. 

“Man, that was a hard scene, don’t you think?” James asked and you just hummed, arm wrapped around your stomach in order to cease the pain. “That was quite a fall you took there.” 

“Yeah..” you mumbled, stopping when something wet touched your face. Your brows furrowed and you touched your upper lip. Search your fingers you saw blood, and realized you were having a nose bleed. “Uh-”

“Alright, that’s it,” James said, turning your attention back to him. He looked fed up and, an emotion that was unfamiliar on his features, scared. “I’m driving you to the hospital.” 

“What? No- no!”

“Yes!” he said and without another word, he picked you up, making you groan in embarrassment. 

“James, this is so unnecessary, it’s just a little nosebleed!” you complained, thrashing in his arms, but quickly stopping once you felt how much that hurt. Instead, you tried to stay as still as possible in a comfortable position.

“It’s not, Y/n. You’ve been squirmin’ in pain all day, I can tell,” he said. You knew he’d figured you out, and while you still didn’t think it was worth a hospital visit, you knew you couldn’t argue with James. 

“All right, all right! I’ll go to the hospital, but only if you put me down!” You reasoned. James stopped, considering it for a moment, before lowering you to where you could stand for yourself. Again, the movement hurt you terribly, but you put on a brave face. 

James hitched you and him a taxi, and headed to the hospital as fast as possible in the constant traffic. You sat uncomfortably, holding your stomach and biting your lip to prevent yourself from groaning. 

“Fuck,” you whispered and gritted your teeth. James looked at you broodingly. 

“You shouldn’t hide stuff like that,” he said. You looked up and met his eyes. A sighed escaped your lips. “I’m very disappointed in you for hiding it. You’re obviously in pain, N/n.” 

“I know. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to waste everyone’s time.”

“Right, well, next time just waste their fuckin’ time! You realize you could be seriously hurt, right?” James’ voice only portrayed anger, but you could see on his face, clearly, concern and worry. The cars honked distantly outside the car. You said nothing. 

“I fucking mean it, Y/n. You can’t do this shit. Tell me that next time you’ll just say if you’re hurt,” James grabbed your hand and looked at you seriously, “Tell me.” 

A strange deja vu occurred, as your life somewhat resembled the movie. Then you looked at him and nodded, “All right. I promise.” 

James didn’t let go of your hand on the way to the hospital, squeezing it whenever you trembled in pain. When you did get in, he made an embarrassingly big deal out of it, demanding that you get checked out immediately. 

Relatively quickly (probably out of fear for the insane Scottish man you’d arrived with) you were looked at, and it turns out the fall had been quite serious, You’d fractured your arm and dislocated your shoulder. The doctor said you were lucky you hadn’t gotten any trauma to the head. 

When James was finally allowed in your room, you knew he’d gotten the news, because he had the biggest ‘I told you so’ look on his face. He gave you yet another lecture, but mostly he just hugged you and confessed how worried you’d made him. You apologized profusely, of course, because it was an absolute crime to worry such a sweet person. 

The incident had definitely made James more paranoid for the rest of the shooting, asking you each time you’d done a stunt if you were okay. You found it sweet though, and nice that he cared for you. Which he did, because you were like a sister to him, and it was over his dead body he would let you hide your pain from him.

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @ireadfanficforfun @snarky--starky @garbage-potato @eviemarvel​

[bleachanimefan1]

Oblitus Part 36

Roar

27 Days Left Until Extermination...

Alastor lowered Lucifer down until he was on his feet. The king laughed and walked away, leaving the room. Alastor growled angrily and slammed his hand against the wall, making a huge hole as he did. His shadow looked at him, worried.

What are we going to do? His shadow asked him. Alastor looked back to Anna, lying on the bed.

"There's nothing that we can do. If we go against him, he'll destroy the only thing that can save Anna." Alastor told it. "I'm not going to let her die." He walked out of the room, looking back one last time at Anna before leaving. As he closed the door, Alastor turned to his shadow.

"Get the others and go round up everyone. But, leave the princess to me." His shadow smirked evilly and nodded then took off to get more shadows.

The other hotel staff were in the ballroom, looking around for evidence. Husk and Angel were on one side, searching while Niffty, Vaggie, and Charlie were on the other side. The other guest were told to wait in another room until everything was cleared up.

A couple of shadows appeared behind Husk and Angel, as they rose out from the floor, while the other group didn't notice. They lunged at the two, covering their mouths, so they couldn't alert them, and dragged them down into the floor disappearing.

"Hey, you two find anything over there?" Charlie called out. She raised on eye, confused, after receiving no response from either one of them.

"Husk? Angel?" She, Vaggie and Niffty looked over to see that they were gone.

"Where did they go?" Niffty asked.

"Probably out smoking a joint or-you know what, I don't even want to know!" Vaggie growled, angrily. "Those two lazy bums completely left us!"

"There's something strange going on here," Charlie murmured. A shadow appeared behind Niffty and grabbed her, before she could warn Charlie or Vaggie.

"Niffty did you find anything?" the princess, again, received no response. Vaggie and her both looked and saw that she was gone as well.

"What the hell is going on here?" Vaggie hissed.

"I don't know but I'm getting to the bottom of it." Charlie frowned.

In another room, Husk, Angel, and Niffty were bound and tied up as the shadows watched them as they tried to break free. The door opened and the three of them looked to see Alastor walking in.

"Alastor? What are you doing?" Niffty questioned.

"Al, what the hell?" Angel demanded. "Why are you doing this?!"

"You better have a good fucking reason for doing this!" Husk spatted out. Alastor snapped his fingers and summoned a couple of gags to cover their mouths. He turned to his shadows, who were waiting.

"Good work! Now, there's only Miss Vagatha and Charlie to take care of!" he congratulated them then looked back towards Husk, Angel and Niffty. "Watch these three while I'm gone." His shadows smiled evilly and turned their attention towards them. Angel had managed to get his gag off, just as Alastor was about to leave.

"Hey, asshole!" Angel shouted. "I don't know what know what the hell is going on, but if Anna saw you doing this-" In a flash, Angel was knocked down as Alastor stepped on his chest, baring his heel into it. Angel yelled in pain. He could feel Alastor's shoe digging deeper into his wound. Alastor gripped his staff tightly in his hand as he gritted his teeth tighter into a strained smile.

"I am only doing this for everyone's own good!" He leaned in closer to the spider demon and slapped him. "So for once in your life, shut your mouth!" Alastor stood up and walked away with his hands behind his back, leaving the three with his shadows.

Back in the ballroom, Charlie and Vaggie were still looking around but also wondering where everyone went as well. The two heard the door open and saw Alastor walk in.

"Hey, Al!" Charlie called out to him. "How's Anna?" Her eyes widen when she saw him make a fireball and threw it at her. Vaggie pushed her out of the way, just in time. But, the blast also singed the ends of her hair as well.

"Alastor!?" Charlie questioned, confused. "Why are you attacking us?!"

"I can't believe you! After everything, you still betrayed us!" Vaggie shouted, furiously. "I knew that we shouldn't have trusted you!" Alastor smile grew larger, but also more strained. He gripped his staff and slammed it on the floor, making several tentacles come out. They lunged towards Charlie and Vaggie, attacking. Charlie blasted a few with several fireballs while Vaggie sliced a couple with her angel spear. But, a tentacle managed to get past Vaggie and strike at her from behind. It began wrapping her, getting tighter and tighter.

"Vaggie!" Charlie shouted. She quickly turned to Alastor.

"Let her go!" she demanded. Alastor hummed to himself.

"Hmm," he thought for a moment before grinning. "No!" He clenched his hand, making the tentacle wrap Vaggie tighter. Vaggie groaned, painfully.

"H-Hun..." she called out weakly. Charlie's eye's widen before everything in the room went red. Horns began to grow on the top of her head as she glared dangerously at Alastor.

"I said, let her go!" she roared.

Then to Alastor's surprise, Charlie had appeared behind him as she teleported and tackled him to the floor. The tentacle that was wrapped around Vaggie loosened and released her. She knocked Alastor's staff from his hands as it slide across the floor. Alastor tried to pushed her off of him but Charlie held him down as she slammed him to the floor. Her claws buried deeper into his skin.

"Why did you do this?!" she shouted, angrily. Alastor didn't answer her. She slammed his face to the floor again. "Answer me!"

Again, Alastor didn't answer. Charlie frowned. If she kept this up, she was going to kill him. Why was he acting like this? He doing fine until Anna got sick. Then her eyes widen in surprise and she gasped as she got off of him, not before grabbing his staff, so he couldn't get it back.

"Is this about Anna?" she asked. Alastor stared at her with wide eyes and a frozen smile.

"You know, something don't you?" she asked. "If you do, then tell me!" Alastor clenched his fists as he kneeled on the floor, refusing to look at the princess.

"I had no other choice. Anna would die if I didn't," he told her.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked, wondering what he meant.

"It was your father. He sent his snake after Anna and poisoned her." Her eyes widen in shock. Her father did this?!

"He agreed to give me the cure in exchange that I stop your hotel program. We both made a deal in the very beginning to put an end to it before anyone got redeemed. But, seeing that it's possible to be able to redeem yourself, I didn't want to go through with it anymore and he knew it. He used her against me."

"Then why didn't you ask for our help?" Charlie questioned.

"I never had to ask for help before. Before, other demons would flee at the mere sight of me. I got used to it. But, that was after..."

"After you met Anna." Charlie made a small smile. Alastor sighed, smiling to himself and nodded.

"Yes."

"Well, you have our attention now," Charlie told him, helping Vaggie up. "What can we do?"

"If he finds out that I told you, your father will destroy the only thing that can help Anna."

"Well, figure something out," Charlie replied. "But, after you release the others as well. Wherever you got them stashed at."

Everyone was in the ballroom as Alastor released them. Charlie and Vaggie explained to them, as well to Lilith on what had happened.

"Mom, there's something that you should know about dad," she told her.

"What is it?" Lilith asked.

"He's the one who made Anna sick," Charlie told her. "he used his snake to poison her." Lilith's eyes widen.

"He what?" she answered in disbelief.

"And that's not all, Dad's been planning behind our backs." Charlie explained more to her. "He's been trying to sabotage my hotel's program. What are we going to do?" Charlie asked. Lilith smiled.

"Leave him to me,"

And just like he was summoned, Lucifer walked into the room as everyone saw him come in. He had a big grin on his face when he saw Lilith. She motioned him to come over.

"Darling, can you come here for a moment? I need to speak with you,"

"Coming, apple pie," he answered his wife and walked over to her. "Do you need something?" Lilith smiled as she pulled him closer to her as she began to rub his cheeks.

"Nothing," she told him. "I just wanted to tell you how handsome you were." Lucifer smiled, but jumped when Lilith slapped her hands on his butt, gripping it tightly. She began to roam her hands to his sides before fishing them into his suit pockets, pulling out the vial with the antidote. Lucifer's eyes widen. Lilith tossed it over to Charlie, who caught it as she did.

"Shit." he cursed.

"Oh shit, indeed." Lilith told him, demanding on answer. "What have you done?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he told her, ignoring her question.

"Don't lie to me!" Lilith shouted. "Charlotte has told me everything! From the point where you tried to sabotage our daughter's hotel program to where you poisoned that human woman. What were you thinking?!" Lucifer cringed.

"I did it for our safety," he replied.

"No, you only did it for yourself! You and your damn pride!" Lilith hissed, furiously. "Now, here's what you are going to do, you and I are going to have a very, very, looong chat about what you've done! And you're going to spend the next few days outside!"

"But, honey fangs-"

"Don't honey fangs me! By the time I get home, I want your stuff packed up and gone!" she screamed as she walked away as he chased after her.

"Lilith!" he called out. "I'm sorry!"

Charlie turned to Alastor.

"Now, next get this to Anna," she told him.

Everyone quickly went to the were Anna was to find Baxter trying to stabilize her. Her skin was turning more grey. Charlie quickly walked over and handed him the cure. He gave it to her and slowly and steady, Anna's heart rate and blood pressure were turning to normal. But, her skin was still grey in color. She groaned and slowly opened her eyes to see everyone around her.

"What happened?" She asked.

"It's a long story," Alastor told her, as he had a relieved smile on his face, holding her hand. "What matters now is that you're okay." Anna smiled.

"Baxter?" Charlie asked. Everyone looked to see the fish scientist going through a transformation. His eyes were turning back to human shape with brown irises. His skin was was turning more lighter in color to more translucent and healthier. However, he still had some fish-like qualities.

"Honey?" Niffty called out.

He had redeemed himself.

"I don't believe it," he muttered, still in shock.

"Look at you!" Niffty admired him "You're radiant!

"Baxter! You did it!" Charlie cheered.

[duhragonball]

Hellsing Liveblog Ch. 35-40

This is the one-part “Xanado”, and the five-part “Final Fantasy”. 

So last time, we saw a Millennium team led by Rip Van Winkle take control of a British aircraft carrier, which forced Hellsing to send Alucard to deal with the situation.   He accomplished his mission, but now he’s stuck on the boat by himself, because vampires can’t cross running water.   I suppose Hellsing would have arranged a second aircraft to pick him up, but they’ve got bigger problems on their hands.   Just as Alucard finishes off Winkle, reports come in of communication breakdowns all over Great Britain.  Military, intelligence, police, all out of reach.  Integra recognizes this as Millennium’s next move.    By taking out the communications networks, they ensure a clear shot for their invasion force to move in.   But how did they pull this off?

Simple, they did it the same way they arranged all those vampire attacks during the summer, and the Valentine assault on Hellsing Manor, and the Brazillian Police raid on Alucard’s hotel suite, and Lt. Winkle’s takeover of the H.M.S Eagle.    They convinced a bunch of Brits to betray their country in exchange for being turned into vampires.   The only real surprise here is the sheer breadth of treachery this time around, as Millennium must have created dozens of sleeper agents throughout the country, each tasked with hijacking or sabotaging key defense systems.  And Vice-Admiral Penwood’s command is no exception.    Those a-holes who gave Integra a hard time earlier?   Turns out they were in the tank for Millennium all along, and now that the invasion force has arrived, they’ve revealed their true colors.   At first, they’re pretty thrilled to have captured Integra Hellsing herself, but she calmly informs them that they’re minor league vampires at best, and they’ve foolishly revealed themselves in the presence of expert vampire hunters.

And Walter calmly slices them all up with his magic wire powers.  Cool.

But that’s not going to stop the one thousand vampire soldiers currently heading into British airspace.   I think the most striking visual in this part of the story are the expressions of sheer excitement on these guys’ faces.  They’re just so thrilled for what’s about to happen, and when you consider how long they’ve waited, it only makes sense.   It’s almost infectious, until you recall just what it is they’ve come here to do.  

Meanwhile, Alexander Anderson watches the Millennium blimps roll in.   Oh, right, I forgot about him.    Back in chapter 25 he was still in Brazil, trying to locate Millennium’s HQ, but all he found were human agents trying to stop him, which he found rather insulting.   Then Maxwell contacted him to explain what he learned from the summit with Hellsing, and he ordered Maxwell to come to London in preparation for a great crusade.   But unlike the Crusads of old, their enemy is not Allah, but Mars, since Millennium is so devoted to war.   Anyway, Anderson’s here and ready to rock.

Meanwhile, the people of London finally spot these blimps rolling in, and it’s pretty horrifying stuff.   We’ve already seen the carnage that can be wrought by a few vampires, and now it’s a thousand vampires, and they’re all Nazi soldiers to boot.   The sense of dread here is just palpable.

Aboard the flagship (flagblimp?) the Major starts giving his men their orders, and they even have a stupid invasion handbook for the occasion.   Warrant Officer Schrodinger lost his and has to share with the Captain.   I suppose this is intended to alleviate the tension, except, no, it really doesn’t.    These guys are all horrible monsters in every sense of the word, and they’re about to do awful, unspeakable things.    Schrodinger’s comic relief moments only make it worse.

The Major gives an extra-long speech for the occasion, basically outlining all the buildings and people in London that he wants his men to destroy (tl;dr: “all of them”).  He then assigns Lt. Zorin Blitz to take one of the blimps with a contingent of men and head for the Hellsing mansion on the outskirts of town.   She figures that’ll be an easy gig, since Alucard is away, but the Major warns her not to underestimate Integra Hellsing or Seras Victoria.   He doesn’t exactly explain his concerns about Seras, but the mere fact that she’s Alucard’s servant is probably reason enough to be mindful, and Integra is Alucard’s master, and she comes from a long line of vampire hunters, so the Major considers them both to be archenemies on the same level as Al himself, despite their inexperience. 

So the Major explicitly orders Zorin to go to the mansion but not to attack.   Her task is to observe an wait for the Major’s order.    This will be important later.

Then the Major orders a bunch of V-1 and V-2 rockets launched at London.   I mean, geez, were the hundreds of vampire soldiers not enough?  Did he think he needed to soften the city up first?  

Then the troops jump out of the blimp to begin their assault.  They look like they’re parachuting down, but I don’t think any of them are wearing parachutes, since they shouldn’t need them.  It’s almost pathetic the way they talk to each other with all of this professional military talk and congratulating each other on a successful landing.    London is virtually defenseless and this is a slaughter, not a battle, but they’ve been psyched up for this for 55 years.

Back at Penwood’s base, Integra warns him to flee before the main invasion force arrives, but Penwood insists on remaining at his post.   He confesses that he’s completely incompetent, and he only has this position because of his inherited title, but he refuses to abandon his duty, since that’s the only honorable thing he can do.   Integra leaves him a gun with silver bullets and wishes him well as she heads for her own duty.    Penwood orders his men to evacuate, but they refuse, since Penwood can’t actually operate any of the equipment here.

So now we get an extended sequence of Milennium marching through London, basically sacking the city and slaughtering anyone they meet.   This is accompanied by the lyrics to “Akuma Stocking” which I think was used in the anime adaptation as well.   There’s a lot of gory scenes here, but the three main visuals that stuck with me in the anime are these:

First, this motherfucker eating a baby.   

Second, all the Londinian civilians they bite end up rising up and transforming into ghouls, who then join in the slaughter.    It’s easy to forget about ghouls at this point, but Millennium never forgot.   Their artificial vampires can’t turn virgins into new vampires, and I think that may be by design.   They were counting on their victims rising up to compound the horror.    

Third, just a lot of bayonet-usage going on here.   You’d think they’d be content to bite and shoot people, but these guys seem to enjoy hoisting up their prey to show them off.   It’s a horrific nightmare and there’s no end in sight.   

Integra and Walter speed home as fast as they can, but they stop to take out a Millennium soldier in a shootout with London police.    She can’t save the cops, but she does avenge them.

Back at the Naval base, Penwood sends out a final transmission as he expects the enemy to enter his post at any moment.    His men are all dead, with the last one shooting himself to avoid becoming a ghoul.  He tells anyone who can hear him to resist and do their duty.    Then he recalls his first meeting with the young Sir Integra.   Back then, he found it ridiculous that a 12 year old should be in charge of Hellsing, but she quickly puts him in his place, and established that she would be asking him for favors from then on.  

But Penwood won’t be granting any favors to the Kraut bastards who storm his post.  Instead he sets off the explosives they set up earlier and I guess they all die together.   I wouldn’t have thought an explosion would kill these vampires, but they are a lot less formidable than Dandyman or the Valentines.   Luke couldn’t regenerate his foot, for example.

When Integra shot that one vampire, she gave away her position, and now Millennium is on her trail.   Just when it seems they have a clear shot at escape, someone blocks their path, and Walter tells Integra to take the wheel and find another route.    He’s going to stay behind to fight this guy, but he doesn’t think he can hold him off for long.

Integra does as he asks, but orders him to return alive “at all costs.”   Hmm.

Walter uses his wire power, but it turns out this is the Captain, and he’s apparently powerful enough to foil his attack.    Walter recognizes him, presumably from when he and Alucard fought the proto-Millennium in the 1940s.

And then the Major flies along in his blimp and confirms it. 

Meanwhile, Integra gives the Last Battalion a merry chase, but eventually she crashes the car and seems to be cornered.  One asshole tries to get closer to finish her off, but she decapitates him with her sword.

His comrades accuse her of being a “sore loser” and tell her to give up, but she mocks them all for being cowards who surrendered their humanity.  She’s hardcore, she’s hardcore.

But before she can fight all these vampires alone, somebody comes along and throws a bunch of blessed bayonets at them.   These did a number on Alucard and Seras, but they didn’t cause any lasting harm.   Seras was even able to pull them out without too much trouble.   But this shithead just disintigrates on the spot.  Remember, the Last Battalion’s main advantage is their number.   Individually, they’re not terribly impressive, at least as vampires go.

But yeah, it’s Alexander Anderson, along with his two sidekicks, Heinkel Wolfe and Yumiko Takagi, the stars of Kouta Hirano’s earlier manga, “Cross-Fire”.   We’ve seen Heinkel in Hellsing before, but I think this is Yumie’s debut here.  They chastise Anderson for interfering, since they were only sent to observe, but Anderson is too fired up by Integra’s fighting spirit, and he wants to kill some vampires, dammit.

Turns out there’s quite a few of these Iscariot guys here, maybe all of them, but Anderson starts doing a whole routine with them, as they chant all this stuff about how they’re assassins in the tradition of Judas, the disciple who betrayed Christ.  I’m not sure I get much of this, but it’s nice that Hirano put some thought into Section XIII as the super-secret death squad of this fantasy version of the Vatican.

And that’s all we have for now.   

[lisbetadair]

The Ghost Comics: A Timeline 2

This is the same timeline, but this time I Have Opinions About Things. It's under cut because it's as long as the last one, the whole torture theme that was so imperative to the comics being something that not everyone wants to read and because some of you really like the comics and I get very sarcastic about the plot holes.

Unspecified time: Riley (age 8) is taken to a punk gig by his father. His eyes are brown despite being the most cerulean orbs to ever have existed in the One True Divine Canon of the Actual Game. He witnesses his father having sex with a woman. He either murders her, or causes her death through negligence. Also, despite Riley being voiced by famous Cockney actor and Eastenders royalty Craig Fairbrass, Riley is inexplicably living in Manchester.

January 2003: Riley visits his mother after an eighteenth month absence. For inexplicable reasons, he is wearing dress uniform.

March 2004: Riley confronts his father at a punk club night in Manchester, tells him not to come home and they fight. For inexplicable reasons, he is wearing dress uniform and a red beret, despite the SAS having worn beige ones since the 1940s. I mean, it's not even like they are the original maroon that they were at the inception of the regiment, which I could kind of forgive, they are actually red. He extracts his brother from wherever he is staying and takes him to rehab.

June 2006: Tommy Riley gets married.

Early October 2009: Riley gets orders to join a US led anti-drugs task force. Two previous unsuccessful missions of this task force to assassinate a heroin smuggling cartel leader in Mexico are mentioned.

13th October 2009: Major Vernon picks Riley up at Fort Bragg, and explains his concerns about a possible leak (possibly higher up the chain of command) that resulted in the last mission being unsuccessful. He explains he is the only survivor of that mission. In case anyone wants some cultural context " Gotta Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas was Number One on the Billboard chart for almost the whole month preceding, so you could really use that for inoffensive pop foreshadowing! It was followed by the Kings of Leon's Use Somebody for the first week of the month which I guess is also Relevant Foreshadowing Content!

October 30th 2009: Sykes dies during the parachute infiltration, due to a parachute malfunction. After the super stealthy parachute infiltration by night, they all check into a local hotel to "blend in" as sex tourists. It is unclear as to why they merely did not drive in like everyone else. They all go out drinking. Riley refuses the advances of a local sex worker, and follows Cumberland to a brothel.

October 31st 2009: He reports to Vernon that Cumberland was using a brothel where members of the cartel were also seen. That night is...

November 1st 2009: Doomed mission into Coahila, Mexico gets going. It is unclear as to what happened to the night of October 31st. Riley enters to target's villa and finds Cumberland gravely injured. Vernon appears, and helpfully explains in villain monologue that Cumberland witnessed him sabotage Syke's parachute, and this has been reported up the chain of command. Presumably Cumberland thought Sykes was a bit of an arsehole, hence why he didn't pipe up sooner. Vernon kills Cumberland but Riley escapes as far as the villa wall, where he is shot by Roba and captured

December 2009: Gratuitous torture.

February 2010: Gratuitous torture, and sexual assault.

March 2010: Gratuitous torture 3

July 2010: Sparks and Washington escape. Riley is buried alive with the corpse of Major Vernon, but escapes.

August 2010: Riley wanders in the desert, across the US border and is repatriated to the UK.

December 18th 2010: Riley appeals to his commanding officer to be returned to active service.

Later in December 2010: Riley visits his family in Salford. Sparks appears. No one considers Spark's appearance at Riley's next of kin's address to be a massive breach of security, or in fact, any sort of concerning event at all, and Riley and Sparks go drinking. They attempt to sexually assault a woman, but are scared off by the sound of police sirens approaching. Riley returns Sparks to his hotel and tries to stab Sparks, presumably this is because he has come to his sense and doesn't want to be some sort of rapist. They fight, and Washington returns, chasing Riley off. Shots are fired. He returns to his brother's house and finds the family murdered.

He phones his commander and is told he is dead as a result of an accident.

Sparks phones and says he's murdered Riley's psychiatrist. Washington sets the psychiatrists house on fire with a grenade, launched from a grenade launcher.

Later in December 2010 (it might be January, who knows?): Riley visits his father in hospital. He leaves before Sparks and Washington appear, and waltz, unchallenged, into a hospital, and murder Riley's father by shooting him at point blank range.

Even later in December 2010 (again, might be January): Riley murders Washington and Sparks who are inexplicably not wanted in connection with the murder of Riley senior. I fear this may be a cultural misunderstanding and possibly the comic writers live in a country so saturated in gun violence that people getting shot in hospitals is a completely normal occurrence, but there's no way that this would not merit major media attention and would have leant absolute credence to any defence Riley was putting about that he was being framed by rogue US agents. He takes Sparks back to his family's house, dumps the body there and sets the house on fire, putting his dog tags on Sparks to confuse the evidence despite mitochondrial DNA testing being a well-used forensic technique.

Unspecified time between December and February: A Colonel Barber, a character we have never met before, requests that the case into Washington's murder is closed, implying high levels of corruption or negligence in the British Military Police.

February 2011: Riley returns to Mexico and kills Robas.

A representative of Task Force 141 appears to pick up Riley immediate after. Presumably tipped off to the event by Barber. Implying that what? They knew Riley would go after Robas, and had the place on watch to see when this occurred, tracked him through the brush until they felt it was suitably out of the way enough to not be noticed? Does it imply that the whole Robas operation (the MK Ultra 2.0 stuff) was organised by the US and they are just waiting to see whether it has worked or not? And it has??

[shinsorokiri]

UA Idol | Chapter Ten

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader

Word Count: 2,417

Warnings: Language

A/N: And we’re at Hell Week! Sorry this chapter took a little longer to get out, I was driving back from my parents house to my apartment and it was all very chaotic and hectic, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! What do you think everyone’s gonna sing next week >:)

───────────────────────────────────

Arriving at the hotel was... intimidating. It’s very fancy, and you are a college student. Mina, on the other hand, was thriving. “Oh my GOD (Y/n), we have a MINI FRIDGE!”

“LOOK AT THE BALCONY!!”

“Do you think Zendaya has ever been here? I would sell my soul to know if she stayed in this room.”

All of her little outbursts were intensely amusing, but you were too busy deciding on what you should wear to the first day of Hell Week. Luckily, the flight landed at six in the morning Los Angeles time, and since you had slept for almost the whole flight, you felt good to go. Also, if you would get to live shows, this is probably something you’re gonna need to get used to. “Okay, so this black, or this slightly blue tinted black?” you ask, holding up a few articles of clothing. Mina sighs, shaking her head before walking over to you. “(Y/n), sweetie, just wear whatever you want! You’re going to look good regardless.”

“But we’ll be on television, Mina, not everyone can look as effortlessly perfect as you can,” you say, sighing. “You’re right, there’s only a few people who are at my level. Luckily, you’re one of them. Just wear the outfit you planned to wear before we even got to LA. It’s cute as hell and it captures your personality perfectly.” She picks up the clothes you’d planned to wear and tosses them at you. She was right, you did look great in that outfit, and you don’t even know why you worried in the first place. Overthinking at its finest, you guess. “Oh, but if you need help with any other outfit, you know damn well I will help you. Now, let’s go! Time for Hell Week, bitch!”

She grabs your arm and basically drags you down to the lobby, where you two run into Shinsou and Denki. “Are you guys excited?!” Denki basically shrieks, and Mina, in return, also screams. You and Shinsou glance at each other, the pure exhaustion radiating off of you two. You both have an unspoken conversation of “How the hell do we do this” This causes both of you to break out into a grin. How cute. “Shinsou, (Y/n), hurry! We need to get to the theater!” Mina screams, grabbing both of your arms and dragging you outside of the hotel to the cars waiting to take the contestants away. The four of you pile into one of them where you find two other people. There’s a red head with an infectious smile and a blonde guy with an infectious frown. Interesting. “Hi! I’m Kirishima Eijirou!” the red-head takes no time in introducing himself as the car starts to drive to your next location. “Kaminari Denki, but you can just call me Denki.”

“Oh, and I’m Mina!”

“Uh… just Mina?” Kirishima asks, and she nods. “Well I mean my family name is Ashido, but I go by Mina. And this is (Y/f/n) and that’s Shinsou Hitoshi!” Mina introduces the two of you where wave. “Awesome! This is my boyfriend Ba-“

“Bakugo Katsuki. Shut up, shitty hair, you know you’ve had a scratchy throat for the past two days don’t fuck your chances before you even get there, dumbass,” the blonde growls, reprimanding Kirishima. Though his words are harsh, Kirishima just smiles. “Awww look at you. Worrying about me.”

“OI! I SAID SHUT UP!”

“You said… boyfriends? Are you sure, Bakugo seems more like an angry… mom?” Denki says, and Kirishima laughs while basically holding Bakugo back in his seat. Weird dynamic. Cute dynamic, but weird dynamic. Mina and Denki engage in conversation with Kirishima, and you and Shinsou give your input every once and a while but you let them just talk to each other. Bakugo keeps screaming about Kirishima needs to rest his voice, and eventually Kirishima says Bakugo needs to rest his voice because of all the unnecessary damn screaming he’s been doing. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and when you look at it you realize it’s a text from Shinsou. “i’m not saying we should have gotten in a different car to get some peace and quiet, but i’m saying we should have gotten in a different car to get some peace and quiet”

You smile to yourself before shooting back a quick, “you’re right, we sabotaged ourselves how tragic” to which you see Shinsou grin at before looking back at you. “Hey wait! You didn’t tell me y’all were a couple!” you hear Kirishima’s voice interrupt whatever little moment the two of you were having, and you both immediately turn red. You start stuttering out an explanation to him. “What? we aren’t…”

“Yeah, no we’re just-”

“Friends!”

“Yeah, friends!” Shinsou says, clearing his throat and awkwardly looking out the window. “Yeah right. And Kirishima and I didn’t join the mile-high club on our flight here,” Bakugo grumbles, and it’s Kirishima’s turn to turn as red as his hair. “Katsuki!”

“Oh, wow would you look at that?! We’re here!” Shinsou, uncharacteristically, screams when you pull up to the theater where you’ll all be performing. You and Shinsou get out of the car, speed-walking away from all the relationship talk. “Sorry about them,” Mina says to Kirishima, who looks genuinely confused. “They both just hate the idea of relationships even though, you know, they’re cute as hell together,” Denki explains and Kirishima slowly nods. “Well... I am willing to help them realize they actually like each other.”

“Wait, seriously?” Mina smiles, already excited when Kirishima nods, grinning just as big as she is. “Oh my god HELL YES!”

“Stop screaming Raccoon Eyes! Anyone ever tell you to let up on the eyeliner. We need to go inside,” Bakugo grabs Kirishima’s arm and starts dragging him in. “Oh my god, Denki, I’m in, he gave me a mean nickname,” Mina whispers to Denki excitedly before chasing after the two guys they just became fast friends with. Well friends with Kirishima. Bakugo is... still undetermined.

When they get inside, they find the two of you sitting next to each other in the corner of the many chairs set up in the theater lobby avoiding everyone else. “You know, I really thought some of my social skills would rub off on him. Tragic,” Denki says as they all make their way over to you. You glance up from your phone to see them walking over and you give a small wave. “A wave? That’s all we get after you literally sprinted away from us like we had an infectious disease?” Mina says, and you shrug. “Sprinted away from you guys? I have no recollection of that.”

“And I’m sure Tosh has no idea either,” Denki says, and Shinsou grins at him, shaking his head no. Denki and Mina groan, sitting next to you along with Kirishima and Bakugo. Of course, Bakugo was complaining that they were sitting next to you “extras” and Kirishima kept laughing it off and saying he was all bark and no bite. For some reason, you didn’t believe he was all bark and no bite. In fact, you think he was mostly bite and the bark came as a warning beforehand, but Kirishima was his owner and as long as he was around, he wouldn’t actually hurt anyone. Thanks, Kirishima. You watched as people from all around piled into the room. Some, you could tell, were California natives or had at least lived there for a long enough time to put off that energy. Others were definitely from other places all around the world, and it was really interesting to see. Also, terrifying. There were a lot of people here. And they were all after the same thing you were. It would take a miracle to actually get through Hell Week and onto the live shows. You feel your phone buzz again, and you look down at it. ‘don’t worry kitten you’re gonna kill it.’

You glance over at Shinsou who gives you a quick little wink before sending a thumbs up and smiley face to you. You can’t help but smile at that. Crazy how he knew how to cheer you up so fast. Especially since y’all didn’t meet that long ago. Guess you were just meant to be best friends.

“Oh, it looks like everyone is here,” Mina says, glancing around. Sure enough, the entire room was full. All the empty seats you saw when you came in were occupied with other people now. And that’s when a producer comes out and tells everyone to quiet down because the judges would be out soon. And cue everyone getting excited and nervous again. “I can’t wait to see what Midnight is wearing. She always looks so good,” Mina says, and Kirishima nods. “I know! It’s always so funny to see what she’s wearing compared to Aizawa.”

“Yeah if there was anyone who embodied not giving a fuck, it is Aizawa Shouta that’s for sure,” Denki says and Mina and Kirishima laugh. “Don’t you idiots think it’s a bad idea to talk about the judges when they could hear you,” Bakugo snaps and Kirishima pats his hand. “It’s okay, Katsu, I think Aizawa would take it as a compliment.” Bakugo rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything else. That’s when the four judges walk out, and everyone goes quiet. That is of course until Present Mic starts yelling into the camera and doing his job as the best MC in entertainment. He goes on his welcome to Hell Week rant as the UA Idol makeup artists touch up the judges. Even Aizawa gets some make-up put on him, and no. No, he does not look like he enjoys that at all. “And here come the judges to let our contestants know just what is happening this year during Hell Week,” PM finishes out his, well, monologue, basically, and the cameras all turn to the judges. “Hi everyone!” Midnight says, waving to everyone. Mina was right. She does look pretty damn good. I mean it’s hard to not look good when you look like her, especially since she’s wearing an all-black bodysuit that accentuates every curve. As expected, Aizawa is also wearing all black but it’s literally a baggy long sleeve shirt and baggy black jeans. Of course, Toshinori is wearing a suit, and Keigo is wearing quite possibly the most stylish lazy outfit you could ever see. Icons, honestly. “So, welcome to Hell Week, as you know it’s called Hell Week for a reason. The reason being it always changes. The only constant being the group challenge. Other than that, you all have no idea what is about to come,” Aizawa says, and Toshinori sighs. “Aizawa why do you insist on scaring them?”

“They need to know fear. No recording artist would be anything without fear.”

“Whatever you say you absolute sadist. Anyways, we’re here to tell you the first part of Hell Week, which will be starting in about,” Keigo glances at his phone and smiles. “Twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?!” you hear Mina whisper to herself, and sure enough a lot of the other people in the room are taken aback as well. You’re not too surprised, they don’t call it Hell Week for nothing. “The first challenge is what we like to call the genre challenge. If you remember, when you signed up to audition in your respective cities, you also signed up for a specific genre. We had the options of pop, rock, hip hop, r&b, country, and singer-songwriter. You’ll be reminded which one you put, and if you believe your style has drastically changed, you can switch to a new genre. You have to pick a song and put your own twist on it, show us your style shine through even in your specific genre. Oh, and if you’d want to show us some original songs... I guess that would be okay, too,” Keigo explains, and shoots a glance over at you and Shinsou. The two of you look at each other, and grin. Originals? Easy.

“Right, so pop is first since there’s so many people who are signed up for that genre. We’ll give you all about ten minutes to gather yourselves, then everyone will go into the theater. You’ll also be watching everyone, time for you all to scope out your competition,” Aizawa says as he begins to walk into the theater. “Remember though, you all made it here for a reason! Even if you don’t make it through, you all have potential to be stars!” Toshinori adds, trying to make this entire situation a little less stressful. You really wish it worked. The judges enter into the theater, and then the assigned genre you signed up for is sent to you in a text message. Singer-songwriter. Still the same. “Damnit, (Y/n), why couldn’t I have put singer-songwriter like you! There has to be so many people in the pop genre...” Mina says, frowning. “Yeah there’s a lot, but none of them are quite like you,” you reassure her, and she smiles at you. “You’re the best even though you hate me most of the time.”

“Hey Kirishima, what genre are you?” Denki asks and he grins sheepishly. “I’m pop, too.”

“Told you you should have gone into rock with me, dumbass.”

“I don’t have the voice for that like you do Katsuki, that would be wrong on so many levels,” Kirishima pouts and Bakugo sighs, wrapping his arm around him. “Listen, idiot. You’re just as good if not better than everyone else in this room. You have nothing to worry about.” This caused Kirishima to smile and kiss his boyfriend’s cheek. Wow so Bakugo did have the ability to be supportive and cute. Who would have thought?

“Well hey, you, me, and Mina are about to kill this, dude. What song are you thinking of singing?” Denki asks as you all walk into the theater. “I’m not totally sure.”

“Well you know what I say, when in doubt look to Harry Styles.”

“Thank you for that wise statement, Denki,” Shinsou says sarcastically, and Denki gives him finger guns. “Well, good luck you guys. We’ll be over here where all the singer-songwriters are,” you say, grabbing Shinsou’s arm and going to your assigned section in the theater. “Time to scope out the competition,” Shinsou says after you both sit down. “Yeah. Luckily singer-songwriters go last, so let’s just sit back and observe,” you say. This is gonna be fun.

[lizacstuff]

What did you think of the latest SCK episode? I’m torn. There were some really good scenes, but \insert annoyed sigh\ there was also Celine.

Actually, I really enjoyed it. I watched it last night and then immediately rewatched. There was so much Edser goodness and enough emotional movement that it kept the shipper in me happy even though I am dying for resolution to the secret.  

I'll get to Selin and all the delicious Eda/Serkan down below, but I have to give props to some of the side stories this ep. Erdeem humor is hit or miss for me, but this episode it was a hit. The entire montage of the security camera footage had me laughing out loud. Literal, loud belly laughs, my neighbors could probably hear me. The whole scene was gold from the hilarious footage to the reactions. Erdeem was probably the best, but shout out to Leila photocopying herself, who doesn't want to do that? Then there was the reactions, Engin and Piril being mortified, Efe looking guilty and nervous worrying about what they were going to see, Ferit not being able to hold it together. The way he was turning and laughing sort of charmed me, I wasn't sure if that was acting, or if Cagri was breaking during the scene, or both. Either way, it worked, and I loved it. The only thing missing in the scene was Serkan, because Kerem's reaction expressions would have been amazing.

This got LONG so I’ll put the rest beneath the read more:

Loved Aydan getting out of the house and fully joining Team Edser. It's self-serving to some extent because she rightly thinks that losing Eda due to the secret is the wedge driving Serkan away from her. However, to give her props, the breakup also made her recognize how deep and real Serkan's feelings are, actually Eda's too, and I think she genuinely wants both of them to be happy. Now can we have Seyfi and Aydan actively matchmaking? This would be great after Eda finds out since I assume she's going to be angry and need time to process, so there probably won't be an immediate reconciliation. AySey to the rescue! 

Ayfer on the other hand needs to chill. Most of the time her end advice "protect your heart" is good, but her overreactions and mocking judgements are annoying. It's got to be clear to her that Eda and Serkan love each other and are working through some things, and there is no need for her to wade into it constantly. Eda is an adult and can make her own decisions and mistakes.  As for the other couples Engin and Piril can be funny, but I have no idea what they see in each other and could not be more mismatched so I'm not sure where it's going. As for Ceren and Ferit, I don't understand what Ferit did to upset her throughout the episode, I don't think he did either, but he was sweet about it. I like him more and more. And welcome back Melo! A breath of fresh air.

Now on to the best stuff. The number of heart-felt declarations this episode between Eda and Serkan warmed my cold, icy heart. The fact that they are broken up, but at the same time are at the point of just letting their feelings hang out there for the other to see is super fun to watch.  

Eda believing in Serkan when no one else did, and then being determined to find out what happened and bring the culprit to justice is as romantic as it gets. You go, girl! She might be so mad at him, and so annoyed at him, or even feeling hurt, but at the end of the day she is gonna be in his corner no matter what. That's love. 

Serkan on the other hand. Serkan, Serkan, Serkan. He can't have her around, but he also can't be apart from her. The poor dear is being pulled in half by a tornado created by his own intense desire to be with her fighting against his noble intentions. It's not fair to Eda at all, but his see-sawing should give her every indication that he loves her and is wrestling with something huge. For his part, I hope he's starting to catch a clue on the depth of Eda's feelings. "You want me to leave, because you're afraid of the woman who loves you  more than anything."  Seriously. Seriously!?!!? Wow. She'd never told him she loved him, just that their feelings were mutual. He's always feared that he doesn't deserve her and she'll get tired of him. Well she's standing there, with a broken heart and a bruised ego after he took Selin's side, and still telling him that she loves him more than anyone. He also looked absolutely wrecked, as he should, when she said he had just discarded her. He never wanted her to feel that way. 

On the other hand, I'm not sure Eda fully digested some of his avowals. "I only trust you." HUGE. Eps 7-9 told us everything we need to know about his trust issues. He loves easier than he trusts. We knew how much he loves her, but now we know not only does he trust her, she's the only one he trusts. Swoon. That was huge for him to admit, Eda, HUGE. But also, "I have never valued anyone as much as you." Once again, huge and a huge breakup fail. I don't blame Eda for not realizing the full weight of these declarations, he says them, but they're apart. Still, you take those and add to the way he can't stay away from her, how he's personally invested in her professionally, actively mentoring her, the password (oh man did I love that), the photo, the mug. Lots of evidence of his real feelings piling up there, Eda.  

Which leads to the fact that we're at the point where the pain/gain assessment for Plan A (breaking up to protect her) is in the red. Meaning it's starting to cause more pain than it's prevented. That's where we get to Selin, because she unwittingly pushed things forward for them this episode. I'm not sure what's motivating her, because she seems like a character that would have too much pride to put herself in the position of having to watch a love sick Serkan chase around after Eda like a heartbroken puppy. However, Selin's feelings are in no way the point on this show. They simply don't matter, because in this instance she is a device. A device to ratchet up the tension between Eda and Serkan. A device to drive Eda's impulsivity and showcase a bit of her jealousy. A device to show that Serkan is so far gone over Eda, he doesn't even notice another woman vying for his attention. Also it gave us this:

"I never loved Selin."

Okay, Serkan. I DIED. Like we been knew, but know we KNOW, and we know that he knows. His relationship with Selin was 100% habit and convenience. That also pretty much tells us that Eda is his first and only real love, which makes the way it's changed him so tangible and believable. Also, more importantly than the audience knowing he never loved Selin, now Eda knows. I get Eda's frustration with Serkan not being annoyed at Selin, but she's missing the point that Selin is simply not important enough for him to care. She doesn't rouse any sort of emotion from him, the way he treats her is all fueled by professional duty and personal guilt. The scene in the office was unfortunate, and I wish Serkan hadn't lost his temper, (but not really because it drove their most important conversations) but Eda's impulsivity sort of led it to that place. I get why Eda suspected Selin, in her shoes I probably would have done the same thing, but I also think Serkan is not putting Selin on a pedestal by knowing that she had nothing to do with the sabotage. And Serkan getting angry was the only thing that got Eda to back down, so it was a very inelegant way of de-escalating the situation. On the plus side, it gave us Serkan trying to make things right for the rest of the episode which was amazing. I will never be over the library scene, the autumn walk scene, Eda being his first guest in the new apartment scene. çok romantik!

As for Selin, look, she's ANNOYING. I'm right there with you. The character is entirely self-absorbed and while I think her motivations are murky at best, I think she's driven in part by competition with Eda. Eda won the war when it comes to Serkan, but Selin is still trying to take a battle or two in order to save face. On another note, she spent most of the episode knowing there was a saboteur, that Serkan suspected Efe, and still didn't put 2 and 2 together with the direct threats Efe made towards Serkan in her presence. Seriously, if something doesn't directly affect her, she can't even retain the information. What a useless lump she is. 

Thank you Aydan, for calling out how ridiculous it was that she didn't go to a hotel. I love that Selin was probably like, "Wasn't she on my side the last time I saw her?" Hilarious. Serkan allowing her to stay there, when she wouldn't have been welcome while they were together, was eyeroll inducing. But I think Selin is such a nonissue for him, that he just could not wrap his head around why it was bothering Eda so much. Also his guilt. The thing that makes the game that Serkan was playing with her forgivable, is the fact that he actually feels bad about the part he played in her life falling apart. I'm not saying it was his fault, but he rightly feels guilty. 

However, from that last scene, I think he's going to learn a hard lesson about guilt getting in the way of common sense. Eda is now ready to push him to his jealousy limit!  That final scene escalated quickly, but I think both of them were driven by a fair bit of pride combined with the frayed nerves that have to come with being broken up while they're both still currently, and obviously, in a romantic relationship with one another.

That's hard and I wholeheartedly look forward to them navigating that next episode. From the Fragman it looks like it's all finally coming to a head. Can't wait!

[angelic-holland]

TMO 15

“The carousel never stops turning. You can’t get off.”

Summary:  You and Tom finally get to go on that date. One that isn’t a set up for a murder and one that isn’t forced. Right?

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: graphic depictions of murder, lots of angst, and a small bit of fluff

A/N: the final chapter!!! ahhh, thank you all for coming on this insane journey with me! an alternate ending will be posted in a few days and the epilogue will be out next week! feedback is always appreciated! 

By the time you and Tom dry off, you’re so exhausted you’re falling asleep on his shoulder as he helps you dress.

“We should find a hotel to stay at for the night,” Tom suggests, helping you into the car. 

“Can we just sleep here, Holland?” You whine, buckling your seatbelt as Tom turns the car on.

“No, because we might get killed by an ax murderer or something,” Tom murmurs, moving his hand to rest on top of yours.

“An ax murderer? Oooo, what a way to go,” you tease.

“Shhh, rest your eyes, I’ll find us a nice hotel,” Tom says and before you could respond, you find yourself drifting to sleep.

 By the time Tom pulls into a hotel parking lot, you’re fast asleep, so he carries you inside. 

For a moment, he thinks the two of you could run away together, screw Idaho, screw going back to killing people to right some wrongs in the world. 

That is, until he starts to carry you inside and as you snuggle closer into his arms, he gets a text message alert. 

When he checks his phone he sees that it’s an Amber Alert. Normally Tom ignores them, knows that eventually the police and FBI will eventually catch whoever took the kid.

But as he clicks on the picture of the child who was taken, his heart nearly falls out of his chest.

The kid looks just like Harry, a younger version of him, red curly hair and a silly smile, one that Harry would get every time they passed a puppy walking with its owner. 

He doesn’t think twice before turning around and buckling you back into the car. You stay sound asleep on the ride back to Idaho, Tom carries you into a small motel right outside the town, only two away from yours, where the young boy went missing.

He wakes you up after placing you on the stiff mattress.

“What’s up? What’s wrong?”  You ask, instinctively resting one hand on your stomach and hoping you didn’t give anything away with your movement.

“There’s an Amber Alert, this kid, James Hugh, he was abducted a block away-,”

“Stop! Tom, where are we?”

“Like fifteen minutes from home, anyway, he was abducted in a grocery store parking lot right down the road-,”

“Tom,” you say sharply, sitting up and resting a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you.

“What?” Tom says, finally looking you in the eye.

“This isn’t what I meant when I said I wanted you to show me you care, show me you aren’t like Jake or anyone else,” you look down, dropping your hand to his shoulder. 

“But, come on, we could find out what happened to the kid-,”

“Tom, we aren’t detectives, this isn’t an episode of Scooby Doo, we won’t capture a monster and find out he’s an ordinary man after all.”

“Y/N! Come on! Are you seriously going to sit here and not help this kid? I mean, you and I both know the police are completely useless!” Tom walks away, starting to pace as you roll your eyes.

“Tom, this isn’t, this is spur of the moment, I don’t do this, I need careful planning and-, this is work for the police, Tom. Have you ever tried chasing after a kidnapper? Someone in the midst of probably really trying to hurt a child? The risk is too high, I’m not going to do it.”

“Then I will!” Tom shouts.

Both of you freeze, your baby kicking you almost in fear. 

When you look at Tom and realize you and him have completely different priorities, it’s in that moment you realize that you and him will never work. You know what you have to do, even though your heart and baby kick at you in protest.

Tom freezes again, looking at you with those wide doe eyes that you wonder if your child would have the same big brown eyes.

“Nevermind, it’s stupid, I’m stupid,” Tom chuckles, closing his eyes as he tries to ground himself. That kid isn’t Harry, the police can handle it. This isn’t his usual business, therefore he should stay out of it.

“It’s just, I wanted something different,” you say quietly. 

“What do you want? I mean, seriously, you can’t expect me to read your mind.”

“I want you to take me out,” you say decidedly.

“On a date or with a sniper?”

The joke falls flat, but you laugh anyway, swinging your legs off the bed.

“You decide.”

***

Graham sighs as he watches the SWAT team prep, “Montgomery, let’s prep for Y/N’s apartment, Tom hasn’t been to his much since three and a half months ago. Surely, if they’re going anywhere, they’ll be heading to her place.”

“Boss, you sure we shouldn’t put resources on both places?” Montgomery asks skeptically as he tightens his bulletproof vest.

“No, we have a single SWAT team and us, we need to throw all our weight behind this, this is the day we finally catch them. I can feel it,” Graham smiles.

“It’s a beautiful day to capture serial killers,” Montgomery jokes, feeling the cold stare of Graham dead on the back of his head.

“Son, you need to stop binge watching Grey’s Anatomy.” 

***

Tom calls you when it’s getting close to eight, he’s already dressed, ready, waiting. There’s a nervous energy to him because he feels like something just isn’t right. He wants to push that feeling down, and he knows the only way to do that is to hear your voice.

“I’m finishing my hair, Holland, chill out.”

“How long does it take you to do your hair?” Tom whines slightly, bouncing on one foot.

“I know, I’m sorry I promised I’d meet you at your place but it’s just taking me longer to get ready than I thought. And I want to get there on time so I just figured you could pick me up here.”

“Course, I’ll see you at 8 then darling,” Tom smiles, eyes crinkling as he adjusts his tie in the mirror. It was the same one he wore the first time you ever worked together. As he ran his hand over the silk material he smiled at the memories the tie bubbled up from his subconscious.

***

“Go ahead Holland, put me in my place,” your voice is venomous as you buck your hips up against him, “you’re pathetic,” you spit out, hands tugging at his hair.

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunts, undoing his tie and grabbing your hands in his own, slamming them above your head.

“Make me dumbass,” you watch as he wraps the blue silk tie around your wrists, tying it expertly and he watches you stare at him in wonder. A smirk passes his lips before he presses them against your own. 

Your knee collides with the side of his groin and he groans, sitting up.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Don’t kiss me,” you get out, arms straining against the tie that held them together.

“Do you still-,”

“Fuck me Tom, just don’t fucking kiss me.”

***

“I can’t wait, see you then.”

“Bye, love you,” Tom says as he hangs up. He doesn’t even realize what he’s said until it hits him like a brick a moment later.

“Holy fuck,” he leans against his dresser, taking in what he said.

He set his phone down and wrung his hands out, they were slightly clammy as he picked up the envelope. Four tickets sat waiting, they were paper thin but it felt like he was picking up a sniper, the weight of what they were was exhausting. He checked the contents once, then twice, then a third time, just to be sure. Two plane tickets to Malibu, then two from Malibu to the Marshall Islands on a private plane. 

***

“We should run away together,” Tom says, running his hand through your hair.

“What do you mean? The cops on our tail?” You huff out a laugh, it makes his entire body vibrate from your position on top of him, head on his bare chest, one hand intertwined with his own.

“No, I just think it’d be nice, to get away from everything.”

“Everything? Like what? Jake?” You squeeze Tom’s hand and he flinches at Jake’s name.

“Jake doesn’t matter right now.”

“He has all of our assets,” you remind him. Needing him to believe this until you could get to Jake. It was a ridiculous dream of someone who somehow still didn’t understand the cruel way the world just took and took and took without a care for the half empty people she left in her wake.

“We can make more money.”

“What about Harry?”

Tom sucked in a harsh breath and your body moved with his, up as his lungs filled and down as he exhaled, “it’s been 8 years since the accident.”

“He’s your brother.”

“He’s been in a coma for 8 years.”

“Tom.”

“I’d still visit him from time to time.”

“That’ll get expensive.”

“Where would we go?”

“Where’s one place you’ve always wanted to go?”

“My history teacher in high school, she told us about how she went to the Marshall Islands for a semester in college. Said the papaya there was the best she’s ever had. She couldn’t eat papaya here anymore, it doesn’t compare.”

“So we’ll go to the Marshall Islands, have the best damn papaya in the world then,” Tom runs his hand down your back, resting on your hip and squeezing slightly.

“How’re we supposed to make money?“

“I-,”

“The only way I’ve ever made money is very, very illegal Tom. And you didn’t have any plans before your accident. Neither of us could earn an honest living.”

“Don’t tear this down before it’s a possibility. There’s a lot to plan.”

You sigh and your body feels cold against his. Your fingers once warm and interconnected with his on the cool bed sheets now gone. You try to roll off of him and he can feel your frustration. He holds onto your hips with both hands. 

You know that this is exactly what you want, for him to try to move on from Harry. To get away with you from this mess.

So why are you trying to sabotage yourself? 

“Don’t you want that? Wouldn’t you want to get away from all of this? From Jake?”

“He-,”

Tom snaps, “Jake tricked us! He manipulated us! He fucking killed the rest of the team. He made us do horrible horrible things. And he’s going to kill us too if we don’t do anything about it.”

And there was that disconnect. Between Tom’s relationship with Jake and your relationship with Jake. Between Tom’s reality and yours. Between his brain chemistry and yours. Maybe he knew that you did this willingly and for no other reason than it was fun, Jake only made sure you worked with him so you wouldn’t kill him. His subconscious willed it away. He only saw the portion of you that he wanted to, the blood that stained your glasses was a soft pink rose color on his.

***

In his other hand was a single black hollyhock flower. He wondered for a moment if he should’ve gotten you a bouquet of them. He wanted to fill the room with them, fill his heart and soul with each and every black flower he came across because they reminded him of you. But he was smart, he wasn’t going to because he knew that you hated them, just grateful he was able to find this one in time for tonight. 

Grateful that no matter what you thought you hid from him, he manages to stay a strong ahead of you. You wouldn’t expect this.

***

Tom laughs breathily as you wiggle in his arms, sending shivers down his spine as you brushed against him.

You turn to face him, he slung his arm over your waist and he loved the way you instinctively moved closer until your shoulder bumped against his.

“I wanna do something for you,” he mumbles, breath ghosting over your cheek, kissing your skin gently.

“And what’s that Holland?” You furrow your eyebrows but there’s a hint of a smile on your lips.

“Something romantic,” His foot taps at your calf and you lift your leg up and let him slide his leg between your own, he wanted to intertwine every part of his body with yours. 

“You made me pasta and you made alfredo sauce even though you prefer marinara. I think that’s pretty romantic,” your eyes are soft now and you smile as his lips brush against your own.

“That’s hardly romantic,” Tom mumbles, the words leaving his lips and he watches as you swallow them, your tongue darting out to swipe at his bottom lip.

“Okay, what type of romance are you talking about?” Your hand rests against his chest and he’s overjoyed and painfully embarrassed at the same time. Overjoyed of another piece of yourself you let touch him, you allowed to reach out and intertwine with him. Embarrassed at how fucking fast his heart was beating, almost like it wanted to leap out of his chest and into your hand. He’d tear open his chest for you and let you cradle his still beating heart in your cold hands. He’d do anything for you. The warmth of your hand seemed to spread through his core, as if you plucked a poisonous seed from him and crushed it. What he didn’t know was that as you crushed the seeds that made him who he thought he hated, you were still taking a part of him he could never get back. 

“I want to buy you roses, and I want to take you out to dinner, because let’s be honest, I overcooked that pasta.”

Your lips twitch into the slightest frown and it causes Tom’s lips to downturn as well.

“What? You can’t seriously tell me you’d rather have my pasta than a five star restaurant.”

You shake your head, your teeth easily tug your bottom lip in as you search for something to say.

“I don’t like roses.”

“Oh yeah?” Tom let’s out another laugh, it’s nervous and his lip trembles as he breathes out.

“No, they smell terrible, seriously, a lady at the mall sprayed perfume at me the other day, I smelled like fucking roses Holland, I’ve never wanted to kill someone in public and go to jail for the rest of my life for manslaughter more.”

They’re cheap words coming from a serial killer, but Tom really isn’t one to talk.

“Anything but, really. Oh! I’ve got a proposition for you, if you can find a flower that perfectly describes me, then and only then you can buy me them. But not like a dozen or whatever, just one. I can press it into glass or something.”

Tom smiles as you talked excitedly and your fingers thrum against his chest.

“What about dinner?”

“What’re trying to wine and dine me for Holland?” You ask, fingers stilling on his chest.

“I just, Jake’s gone-,”

“Right, you killed him.”

Tom grunts, nodding, “Jake’s gone and we’re free. And I guess I feel like I owe it to Harry. To do something more. Because I fucked up plenty enough as it is.”

“Hey, I’m sure, I’m positive that he would’ve understood. He would’ve known the immense and fucked up pressure you were under to pay his medical bills, hell, the pressure you were under to survive.”

“I could’ve done everything different.”

“That’s in the past.”

“But then I wouldn’t have you,” He says in the same breath as you.

“I guess I wouldn’t have you either then, so I won’t complain too much,” you hum against his lips and he smiles before kissing you.

***

Tom slips the man 100 dollars, giving him directions to your house. He’s almost the spitting image of Tom although he’s slightly older and he sells weed to high schoolers. He’s perfect for what Tom needs. 

“Okay, this is her address, take this flower, knock on her door,” Tom says, handing him the single flower. 

“Great, and I’ll get the other 100 once I’m finished?” the man asks.

Tom swallows the lump in his throat, “yes, remember, knock three times. Then tap your hand against your thigh three times.”

“Whatever you say, my dude,” the man nods, leaving Tom in the alley as he rounds the corner towards your townhouse. Tom doesn’t have it in him to wait around, walking through the brisk air to where he parked his car, driving a little further down before parking in a Starbucks parking lot. He taps his hand against his steering wheel three times, a tear falling from his eye as he presses the scar on his palm. 

***

You suck in a shaky breath as you get ready. Settling your hair high on your head into a ponytail, slipping on your gloves, instinctively tightening your kit around you, hiking your duffel bag further up your shoulder and swiping into the hotel room you took out in Jake’s name. You slip on your gloves before opening your bag and pulling out everything you needed for tonight, piecing it all together like a puzzle you got familiar with months ago, you ensured every piece was where it needed to be before you pushed open the window that faced your townhouse. You watched as Tom looked gorgeous as ever, his curls bouncing on his head, took the steps to your place two at a time. He rocked back and forth on his feet for a moment before knocking on your door, once, twice, three times. He twirled a flower in his hand as he did a breath check, which made you laugh lightly before you focused on what you were actually doing here. He taps his hand on his thigh, once, twice, three times. 

Out of everything you wanted to say to Tom in this moment, even if it was a whisper from across a street that he wouldn’t hear, you knew what you needed to say.

You watched his shoulders rise like he was saying something as the door to your townhouse slowly opened. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as your finger simply twitches. A tear rolls down your cheek but you ignore it because you have to. There isn’t time to process the implication of what you just did because you hear sirens and you slip out of your spot in the window. In movies everything happens in slow motion, the simple beating of a heart slows down, the pace is sluggish while the world moves at a faster pace around them. This wasn’t the case, your heart beat so loud you’re positive that’s what would get you caught. 

You shut the door calmly behind you and pull the fire alarm located next to your door before slipping off your gloves and sliding them into your kit. You join the mass of hotel guests looking confused and upset as you squeeze through the group of people moving quickly down the stairs at the implication of a fire. As you stumble out the front door you see half a dozen dark SUVs surrounding the door to your townhouse. You’re grateful you don’t have to see him like that. See what you did. You push through the crowd and slip into the side street by the hotel, each step you took echoed in your ears, your heart was rattling in your chest and it ached, you’ve never quite felt anything like it. You locked away your heart a long time ago, you shoved the drawer shut so hard the sound still echoed in the space between your brain and skull. You swallowed the key for good measure. 

You stumble over your feet, leaning against the cool brick wall and heaving as you feel your stomach leap into your throat. You throw up, with your baby kicking against your stomach, reminding you that ‘hey you just killed my dad!’ You throw up the granola bar that was the only food you ate today. You throw up until acid burns the backs of your teeth and your hand shakes as you wipe the back of your mouth. 

You walk towards your rental car, pulling the keys out and slipping into the front seat, resting your hands on the wheel, resting your sweaty forehead on them as you take a deep breath.

You need to be gone, you have maybe five minutes before the FBI team chasing you set up roadblocks, effectively trapping you like a mouse under a painful metal trap. The key turns easily in the ignition, you pull out of the small side street and set your sights on the open road of the highway as tears blur your vision.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You slam your hand against the steering wheel before you accelerate smoothly onto the highway. You couldn’t look back, you didn’t want to, you know if you stayed even a moment longer that pesky Graham would have you in a cell before you could blink. That didn’t mean you didn’t wish you were the last thing he saw before he died. It wasn’t a sinister wish. You didn’t get off on the person you killed staring into your eyes as they died like Jake. It was a selfish wish really, you wanted him to know it was you that was protecting him from a life behind bars or a lethal injection. You wanted to say three words and watch him repeat them back to you three times before he choked out a final gasp.

***

Graham swears as he hears the backfire of a weapon and the telltale sound of a body hitting the ground. He opens the door from the inside of your apartment with his gun trained on where he heard the gunshot. A man he doesn’t recognize lay bleeding on the ground in front of him, a flower in one limp hand, face twitching in pain as life drained from his eyes quickly.

“Find her! Fucking find her!” Graham shouts, kneeling next to him. 

He checks the pulse in the man’s neck, it’s gone and he grunts out a breath of frustration.

Black SUVs surrounded the townhouse as a fire alarm was set off across the street.

“Nobody gets out of that crowd without being questioned!” Graham feels like his orders are being ignored as he watches his team scramble to contain the crowd of people exiting the hotel, thoroughly confused.

He glances up at the windows in search of where the shot could have come from. He catches the sniper in an open window, sitting precariously on the ledge. 

“We need to process everything on this guy, he’s gotta look like Holland for a reason; Jacobson and Montgomery, go, find out what room that is, process it, don’t let anyone touch anything until we’ve got crime scene techs here,” he orders, pulling out a pair of blue latex gloves and holding the flower from Tom’s hand. 

“What is this?” Reese kneels beside Graham, staring at the black flower.

“A black hollyhock,” Graham notes, staring at it as he stands up. 

“What’s it mean?”

“Don’t know, let’s bag it,” he hands it to a crime scene tech who proceeds to take pictures of the scene, the man’s body as blood pools around it.

“We have to fucking find her,” Graham spits out, knowing you were good as gone, knowing his mission would be as difficult as catching a ghost. In the instant you thought you took Tom’s life, you destroyed a part of your own, and you are going to vanish into thin air as the hole in your chest made it harder and harder for you to breathe. 

***

You drive until the car runs out of gas, you fill up at a station after wiping the tears from your eyes and using eye drops to obscure the redness of them. 

You keep your head down as you pay for enough gas to get to where you are heading, the attendant gives you a look as you tossed him a hundred dollar bill but you just roll your eyes. You pile some food and caffeine onto your bill as well, your stomach rumbling as you push open the door to the station, the bell that rings echoes in your ear as you walk past an old green station wagon. 

You squeeze your eyes shut as memories of cherry ice pops and car sickness floods your brain. 

You pull out your phone, because right now there’s only one person you can think of other than him. Tom is dead. He’s no longer your safety island, no longer your paradise.

You dial a number, unsure of why you’re calling him, but when he picks up, you’re unable to speak.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Harrison’s voice cracks and you sob, immediately covering your mouth.

“Haz?” You pause, sucking in a deep breath, “I uh, I need you, I made a big mistake.”

All of a sudden arms wrap around your middle and drag you behind the station as your phone clatters to the ground. One hand covers your mouth, the other holding down your fighting arms. You swear in about thirty seconds you’ll feel the cool metal of handcuffs around your wrists. What you see when you’re slammed against the brick wall, pain radiating through your cheek, is so much worse.

“Tom?” 

He shaved his head, but the brown eyes and scar above his eyebrow are a clear sign of who it is. Ghosts are not fucking real. So why is someone you killed hours ago pressing you against a brick wall of a gas station? 

“I won’t hurt you,” he mutters, ironically twisting your arm harder behind your back.

“How are you- you’re- Tom you’re supposed to be dead,” you gasp as he lets go of your hand, turning you to face him.

Your back digs into the brick wall and it hurts but you can only focus on Tom even as tears sting your vision.

“Decidedly not dead, I’d say we’re pretty even now,” Tom says, cupping your cheek. You lean away from his touch, still unsure if your mind decided now was a great time to play tricks on you.

“How’d you know?”

“You forgot that I know you,” Tom whispers as you lean back into his touch, opting for the warmth of his hand even if you’re scared of what he might do next. 

“Not as well as you think,” you sigh as his lips brush against your own.

“What’s that mean?” Tom asks, he’s too afraid of your answer, so instead he kisses you.

You kiss him back through blurry vision and your own fear of the next words on the tip of your tongue.

You pull back, head resting against the cool brick, “Tom?”

“We should probably get going, I don’t know if the FBI knows what your car looks like, or mine, but I got a new one and we can drive, drive as far as we need to.”

“Tom-,”

“Drive until we hit the border, maybe we can get into Canada, start fresh there-,”

“Tom! I’m- I’m pregnant.” 

***

Taglist:  @gioandreolli   @honeymoonparker @itsjusttor @averyfosterthoughts @worldoftom @angelhaz11 @rebekkah4766  @murdermornings​

[annieintheaair]

What I’d Say

I’d be lying if I said that these last few weeks have been easy. I may be the only person in the world wishing to go back to 2020. I had no idea that heading into 2021 would mean so much sadness, disappointment, and feeling broken. Even if I had to go back to January 2020 and relive the entire year, just to get to the last 6 months that were great, I’d relive all of the pain that I felt leading up to that point.

James stopped talking to me. On Sunday, he texted me to say that he promised he would call me later and give me some answers. He never called and I haven’t received any texts from him since. I’m at the point where it takes everything in me to resist the urge to text him, even knowing he won’t respond, just because not communicating at all, even if it’s one sided, means facing the reality that it’s really over.

Since we may never speak again, here’s what I wish I could say:

Dear James,

A week before I met you, I was in Canada for work with my friend, Shasta. I was dealing with the pain of being stonewalled and ignored by someone that I cared about at the time. It was exactly a week from the last unanswered text that I sent him to our first date.

Gosh... I remember July like it was yesterday. I was smiling all day on July 2nd while we messaged back and forth on Bumble. When you asked if I wanted to meet up that night, I was so excited... but not too excited because your Bumble profile said that you were only looking for “something casual”.

I was walking down the hallway in my hotel when I first saw you. You were recording the self-playing piano on your phone, probably posting on your Instagram stories because now I know, you love to post stories. I can just picture you there. If I close my eyes, it’s like we’re still back there, meeting for the first time.

We walked into town together and went to the Cowboy Bar and later headed to Stillwest. It was at Stillwest when you started opening up to me. I loved how easy you were to talk to and I felt like we connected right away; two people who had both been cheated on in their long-term relationships.

I didn’t want that night to end and even though I had work to do that night, I didn’t care that we were out late and I wasn’t concerned about getting it done. I guess we both realized that day that we couldn’t let it end after that one date because you asked me if we could meet up again the following night. Without hesitation, I said yes.

You walked with me back to my hotel and we said “goodbye” and from my room that night, while thinking about you, fireworks appeared right outside my window. It was like the whole world was celebrating that we met.

The whole next day, I couldn’t wait for our date. When you picked me up that afternoon, we drove out to Teton Village where we took the gondola up to the top of the mountain where we sat on the patio, taking in the views, and enjoying happy hour.

We then drove through Grand Teton National Park and right as the sun began to set, we walked out to Jenny Lake and I felt like my breath was taken away by the beauty of it all. It was there that you kissed me for the first time.

We finished off the night back in town having drinks and I felt like I had never connected with anyone so fast in my life. When I left the next day, I was smiling but sad because I wasn’t sure when I’d see you again.

Only a couple of weeks later and you came to Texas to visit me. I never stopped thinking about you during those few weeks. We had some great days together and then you left when I went to work. You were gone for less than 24 hours when I told you that I had shingles and would be staying home from work. You asked if you could come back and of course, I said yes.

It was only a couple of days after that when we made our relationship official and you told me that you loved me shortly after that. I wasn’t scared and I wasn’t unsure because I knew that I loved you like a love I had never felt before.

Over the next many months, we spent most days together. The days apart were hard but I always knew that I’d see you again soon. We had so many adventures together. I loved visiting you in Wyoming at the end of August when you had me hike up an insane mountain. There’s no one else that I’d hike up a mountain like that for-- only you.

Every time we had to say goodbye, I swear I cried a little harder. You were here with me in Texas for most of September and when you left, I think you were gone for maybe four days before coming back because we both hated being apart.

In October we spent a weekend in South Padre with your friend and his girlfriend and the following weekend we went on a road trip with my dogs to check out breweries in Houston. For Halloween weekend, we drove down to San Antonio to visit your parents.

November got a little harder. Maybe I tend to sabotage things when I sense that they might end. I’ve always felt like it’s easier to hurt someone else before they can hurt you, you know, beat them to the chase. The weekend before we went to Winstar (the casino), we got into a fight. It was the biggest fight we ever had. You left and were planning on going back to Wyoming. The two days we spent apart, I realized that I never wanted to be without you again. Even though distance sucks and it’s difficult, it’s so much harder to lose you forever than it is to lose you temporarily.

I went to the casino alone but you came the second night. We ended up having a great time. I felt like if we could get past that fight then we could get past anything. I stopped going to see my therapist because I felt like we had handled that on our own and maybe I didn’t need her anymore. I was so wrong.

We made it another week. I soaked in that last week together in Texas before I went to New Jersey for Thanksgiving and you heading to Wyoming for opening weekend for snowboarding. Did we both know then that that was the beginning of the end? I remember yelling at you in the car the night before you left because I got lost and stuck in traffic on the way to the airport to pick up my mom. We managed to get through it and did okay for a few days.

While I was in NJ, you started giving me the silent treatment. I went back and forth a few times about whether or not I should meet you in Wyoming because I wasn’t sure if you wanted me there. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, which is why I had volunteered to go there to be with you so you could spend more time there instead of rushing back to Texas to be with me. I thought I could give you everything-- let you have Wyoming and be there with you because we were happy together, right?

We had a great time together in Wyoming but something felt off, something felt different. I felt like there was this distance between us but I told myself that it was that we had just become so comfortable with each other that we had become a little boring. We had a routine while I was there-- we’d work during the day and then we’d go to happy hour, sometimes the grocery store, and go back to your apartment to watch TV together in bed and drink hot toddies before falling asleep.

I was only supposed to stay for a week and the day I was suppose to leave, we got in a fight because the original plan was that you’d come back to Texas with me. I didn’t like the idea of going back to Texas alone for no reason when I wanted to be with you. I wanted as much time as possible with you. I basically begged you to ask me to stay and after some time, you did. Maybe I should have just told you I wanted to stay. I know I didn’t go about that in the right way.

I stayed for another five days or so and we had many more great times but something was still off, wasn’t it? When you drove me to the airport I tried so hard not to cry but I couldn’t stop myself. You dropped me off and hugged me and kissed me goodbye. I was bawling my eyes out.

I cried going through security, waiting for the plane, and then through the whole flight. I missed you so much already. Subconsciously, did I know that I’d never see you again after that day? Did I know then that it was over?

I had a countdown. I went to New Jersey for Christmas and you went to San Antonio but were going to come to NJ the day after Christmas for a few days. The flights were pretty full and I didn’t know if you’d be able to get there. Looking back at all of this, can I ask you something? If you knew it was so important to me, why didn’t you buy a ticket?

Instead of buying a ticket to come to me, the day you were supposed to come to NJ, you instead texted me, first saying that you didn’t want to end it but in the very next text, you told me that it was over. You drove back to Dallas with your sister instead and I was left feeling crushed and confused.

Without a word, you went back to Wyoming before New Years, leaving me alone to figure out how to get my dogs back to Texas with me and knowing that you were abandoning me on New Years when we had made plans.

I don’t know what has happened over these last few weeks. I really don’t understand it. What went so wrong in our relationship that we couldn’t even try to fix it? All I wanted was answers so I could understand and learn from it, even if it meant never getting back together.

I’ve gone through other breakups in the past and I immediately jumped back onto the dating apps to swipe to meet new people and go on dates. This time is different. I have no desire to go on dating apps or meet new people. It’s hard to move on when I still love you so much. Will I find another love like ours?

Even with all of the hurt and lack of communication recently, there’s still a part of me that wishes that the movies were real and you’d surprise me and show up at my door and we’d hug and swear that this would never happen again. You’d tell me that you made a huge mistake and you’re sorry for all of this and you want to work it out. Movies aren’t real life though but every time my dogs bark or I hear a car outside, I’m disappointed because you’re not there. Cupcakes from my job showed up on Wednesday and when the doorbell rang, I wished it was you but I guess cupcakes are the next best thing.

I didn’t realize at the time but my camera in my kitchen recorded the times we were together in my house. I see the smiles on those people in the early days and I know that they were real and genuine. I know how I felt and I think I know how you felt at the time, too. Can we go back there? Can we time travel back to July and be those people again? Sometimes I just want to get lost in those recordings. I think that if I watch them long enough then we’ll be transported back there.

If I never see you again, I’ll remember all of the great times we had-- from the first day we met to floating in my pool during the summer to road trips and vacations, hiking mountains, happy hours, breweries, and the every day, like sitting in my backyard together and all of the times you hugged me and said, “You make me so happy”. I’ll remember you laying on the floor of my closet one night, telling me, after a few drinks, that you wanted to lay in a field and look up at the stars with me and that you wanted love like your parents found in each other. All of the times we talked about our future together and not about “if” we got married someday but “when”.

Telling people that it’s over between us has been hard... very hard. Shasta and my therapist (who I decided to go back to after all) both told me that they thought I’d be telling them that we got engaged and not that we broke up. I don’t know who was more shocked-- me or them?

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for whatever it was that finally broke us. I’m sorry for the things I said when I was mad and hurt. I’m sorry that I can’t wish you happiness right now. I just hope that you’re missing me as much as I’m missing you. I hope your world feels a little quieter and lonely without me in your life. I hope you never find a love that compares to ours. I hope someday you look back and realize that you let go of something so amazing. I hope that I’m wrong and that the day at the airport wasn’t the last time I’ll have ever seen you.

I still hope that someday we can go on adventures together again. Until then, I’ll be taking a trip to Disney, like we had planned, and Seattle, where you said you had never been but wanted to go. I’m still going to go on these adventures alone and hopefully through time spent with old friends, maybe I’ll find myself again. Maybe I’ll find a way to be happy again, even if it means being happy without you.

Please know that I’ll always care about you. You’ll always have a piece of my heart. I hope, if nothing else, someday maybe we can be friends and talk. I’m releasing you, I’m letting go of the hold you have on me. I forgive you. I need to find peace and I’m not here for revenge. I’ll remember you in all of the best ways.

I (still) love you,

Annie

xoxo

[arcadianambivalence]

Babylon Berlin, S3E02

We open at a women’s prison, where Greta and Dr. Volker are held.  As a form of protest, the women take off their shoes and beat them against the bars as the executioner, doctor, and a team of witnesses arrive.

A scaffold erected in the previous episode isn’t for execution by hanging after all, it’s to hold a bell.

Don’t relax just yet, though.  What happens next is even worse.

I feel sorry for Greta.  I have since the beginning, but…she chose to side with Otto.  She chose to plant the bomb that she knew would kill Benda.  Learning the truth and rushing back at the last minute doesn’t undo that.

Gereon’s attempts to pursue leads on the Benda case have met dead ends, and he suspects intervention from higher up the chain of command.  He goes to confront Wendt, who tries to push this all on the communists.  As Gereon approaches, Wendt is talking to his men about looking in orphanages.  I doubt he’s looking to adopt.

As soon as Gereon arrives home from a nightly session with Schmidt, he prepares to leave again for work.  Helga goes through the housewife motions of seeing everyone off to work or school. It’s becoming clear to Helga and Gereon that neither one is deeply invested in the relationship anymore.  

“He’s coming between us again,” Helga says of Anno.  

(Probably the only one coming, too).

Planning to leave Gereon, Helga calls someone in Wannsee (Nyssen, right?  It’s Nyssen.  The choice of Wannsee is intentional).  She later checks into a hotel under the name Schwartzbach.  Whoever is paying for the NICE room is a Waterhouse collector.  A Mermaid and The Siren are visible.  

A table of food is laid out for display (like it was for Lotte as Edgar’s prisoner in Season 2, Episode 6).  There are two bedrooms, a desk stuffed with stationary, and a wall of windows bathing the suite in light.  

How could Helga resist this siren’s call?

In a similar scene, Moritz is lured by some precursor Hitler Youth members into shirking volunteer work for archery practice.  (Notice how the Nazi characters are associated with hunting imagery.)

Even though Moritz is a foot taller and a little older than last season, I wonder if he still collects bugs and sprinkles them on unsuspecting people.  (Side note: The entire series thus far takes place in 1929, so Moritz is technically the same age as he was in his previous appearances, which means...yeah, he probably does still do this.)

In the middle of a possible breakthrough in the movie case, Lotte sees her older sister, Ilse.  The eldest Ritter has an eye condition and can’t afford a new doctor now that Volker’s in jail.  She also has news that a neighbor (seen all the way back in season 1, episode 3) has something of the late Mrs. Ritter for Charlotte to retrieve personally.  

Does anyone else feel like there’s a secret father plot whenever Charlotte’s mother is mentioned?

Speaking of blasts from the past, it turns out the American actress Tilly Brooks (also called Spielmann) was one of the women Gereon and Bruno spoke to at the Pepita bar at the end of season one.  

When he asks her what she saw on the set the day of the incident, Tilly replies, “A ghost.”

An...Opera Ghost?

She describes him as wearing a black cloak, “Like a regular ghost, you know?”  (Maybe it’s different in Germany, but I’ve never seen ghosts depicted like they’re Salieri attempting to blackmail Mozart.)  

Tilly also gives Ulrich, a forensics expert, this sideways look:

It turns out one of the light technicians on set went by an alias and was hired to sabotage the production.  Gereon goes on a (beautifully lit) chase after the man—who is killed by the “Ghost” before revealing anything.

[banditthewriter]

The Pact - 6

Well... I guess I should apologize ahead of time?

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif is mine*

Enjoy!

*****

When you stepped into the hallway the next morning, Frank was hovering nearby with a strange look on his face. He smiled when he saw you though. The wedding was the next day and you still hadn't figured out what you were doing. "Hey. Karen's friends are coming in today and she's spending some time with them. I thought you might want to ditch Bill and spend some time with me." You looked over your shoulder at your hotel room door and frowned. Billy had barely gotten any sleep the night before, staying up on the couch dealing with something overseas he said, and you weren't sure you wanted to ditch him. But one look at Frank told you that you needed to. "Let's go," you said as you joined him. The walk ended at the beach. Somehow you'd be in Florida for over a week now and you hadn't done more than look at the beach. The two of you walked slowly, enjoying the breeze coming off of the water. The weather was perfect and you smiled as you turned your face into the sun. "Things been okay with you?" At your curious noise, Frank touched your wrist and you stopped moving. "I don't know, you've seemed off since you got here. Once I found out about you and Bill I thought it might have been that, but you're still acting weird." You dug the toe of your shoe into the sand. The problem with having known Frank for most of your life was that it was ridiculously difficult to hide things from him. Whenever you tried, it usually came back to bite you in the ass. Like now. "Is it because I didn't tell you? Because I wanted to apologize for that. I really am sorry Y/N, I just—" "You can't marry her," you blurted out, looking up at Frank with wide eyes. He hesitated a bit before he tilted his head. "Why not?" You inhaled deep and exhaled out everything you had learned from that file from Billy the night before. As you told him about her being involved with drugs and how it was on file that she was the reason her brother died, you could feel your stomach turning. Even the words felt like poison on your tongue. Frank's face was unreadable. In the time you'd known him, you didn't think there had ever been a time when you weren't sure how Frank was going to react to something. You swallowed thickly and nodded your head a bit. "Say something Frankie," you whispered. He started to shake his head, turning away from you for a moment. When he looked back, there was a smile on his lips but it didn't look friendly. You had a feeling this was how he looked in the heat of battle sometimes. "I knew all that already. What, you think I was marrying a woman and she hadn't told me about her tragic past? Jesus Y/N," he said as he looked you from head to toe, "what is wrong with you? Why in the hell are you looking into Karen?" The problem was that he was looking at you like he didn't recognize you. It felt like your world was ending and you didn't know how to make it stop. "The pact," you finally croaked out pathetically, clearing your throat and sniffling when you realized you were crying. "We made a pact and I—" "Jesus, is that why you're doing this? Some pact that two drunken kids made? The point of the pact was if we didn't find other people but we did. I have Karen and you have Billy." "No," you cried, your arms wrapping around your stomach. "I don't have Billy. You don't understand. It's just pretend. It's... he... we're not together. I'm alone." It seemed like there was a crush of emotion that went over Frank at that. You waited to see which emotion would win out and by the look at his face when he stepped towards you, you had to think that it was anger that had won the battle. "So you wanted to ruin my happiness just because you're alone? How the fuck is that fair?" You wiped at your eyes, trying to keep straighten your spine. At some point you had been hit the realization that you had been a complete idiot and now you were just on damage control. As if it was that easy. "It wasn't just that," you said as you swallowed, calming yourself down a bit. "I... I love you?" It shouldn't have been a question. You knew that. Love should be a declaration, not like you were seeking reassurance. And those words that you had been carrying around since you got the invitation felt honest, but not in the way you’d been thinking. What had you done? "I thought you did," he said as he turned and started to walk away. You hurried after him, desperate to get him to stop and listen to you. You needed to explain, to try to make him understand that you'd been wrong, that you were sorry. You needed the chance to apologize. He spun around and you had to quickly back pedal to keep from running into his chest. "I didn't tell you that I was marrying Karen because I was scared. I was scared because I didn't want it to mess with what you and I have. I didn't want to tell you because I didn’t want things to change and for us to not be us anymore." He shook his head with a humorless laugh as he turned to continue away from you. "It's almost laughable looking back." You could have kept after him, but you didn't. Instead you slumped over into the sand. It'd gotten away from you. You'd gotten so caught up in everything that you'd forgotten the most important thing. That Frank was your friend. Your best friend. And now? Now you'd be lucky if he ever spoke to you again. ------ You didn't run into Frank at the hotel and you weren't sure if you were glad for it or not. The elevator ride to your floor was riddled with anxiety as you tried to think of what you could say if you did come across him. Or Karen. Key card in hand, you unlocked your hotel room and stepped in. Next to the closet was Billy. You opened your mouth to say something, because it'd been a horrible morning and you needed help, when you noticed what he was doing and quickly went silent He looked over his shoulder at you and shook his head before he went back to stuffing his clothes into his bag. "Got an interesting phone call a little while ago. I told you that someone would get hurt if you used that information," he said as he dropped the bag and moved over to the bathroom to finish gathering his things. "You're the one that gave it to me. You knew what I was doing and you were helping me," you defended as you moved further into the room, stepping back when he came storming out of the bathroom. "Yeah, because I thought you'd see that she was just a troubled girl that grew into a wonderful woman who our friend loves. And I never thought you'd actually go through with it. I wasn't helping you; I was trying to sabotage you." He was trying to sabotage you sabotaging them. The thought was almost funny but you didn't laugh. You couldn't even if you wanted to. "Billy, where are you going?" He picked up the bag and zipped it harshly before he glanced at you. "You did it, didn't you? You succeeded in ending their relationship and he's going to marry you instead, right? I mean, there's no way that you just blew up the ground you were standing on without it going perfectly. Obviously you don't need me here anymore. You've got sabotage down to an art form." He hefted his bag over his shoulder and started towards the door. You hurried to intercept him, wrapping your hands around his wrist. "Billy, I need help. I need to fix this." He looked between your face and your hands on his wrist before he sighed. He opened the door but didn't step through it immediately. "Frankie always said that you would do whatever you wanted, damn the consequences. It was the highest praise from him, right? I guess none of us really realized how true that was going to be." He sighed and looked back at you. "You broke it Y/N; maybe you should fix it yourself." He pulled out of your grasp and started into the hallway. You chased after him, grabbing the strap of his bag and calling his name before he could get too far away. "Billy, wait," you began, not sure what you could say to make it better but knowing you needed to try. "I'm done waiting," he mumbled before he turned around, pressing you against the wall. His eyes searched yours but you weren't afraid of him. Of course he wasn't exactly going for fear just then. Before you could say anything, he ducked in and kissed you. It started rough, him reaching up to hold onto your cheek as his lips moved over yours. And then he softened in to a barely there caress. When he pulled back, you were too stunned to react. He shook his head solemnly and turned away from. All you could do was watch him go into the elevator. He didn't even turn to look out so all you could see was his back as the doors slid shut. You didn't have to wonder why it hurt worse to see him walk away from you than it had to watch Frank walk away. You were pretty sure you knew the answer. What had you done?

X

Let me know if you want to be added to my Permanent Tag List @hermioneshandbag @onebatch--twobatch @smiley-celine @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @starless-skyox @youveseen--thebutcher @citation-is-here @mightymelly @realduckvader @1550kilogramsofsilver @hxbbit @rockintensse @missphanosaur18 @thepuffyeyedpuff @kararanae23 @yessy2012 @gingerstarlight @siriusement @marauderskeeper @xinyourdreamsx @wickidlady @mahalobro @sassygirl25 @maraudereestauderelb @rainyboul @cutie-bug @random-quartz @holamor @lea----b @heyitslexy @detectivebourbon @coffeenmoscato @presstocontinue @elisemockingbird @assbuttwithwings @geeksareunique @siriuslovesmarlene @witch-of-letters @delicatelilyflower @l-l-c-m-w-b @whovianayesha @hiddenprincess @yannii04 @jeanettexkillian @brighteststarinthesky @kilyra @gallxntdean @sweetvengeancee @lady1505 @thedarklightwithinus @ateliefloresdaprimavera @siriuslyimmoony @elodieyung @fudgeflyss @madamrogers @thatwrestlingfan91 @teranya @yesixoxo @sophiabulbu69 @delusionsofnostalgia @effielumiere @mamaraptor @hot-and-spiceyyy @i-padfootblack-things @aya-fay @fcavalerro @sithskywalkers @raquelbc2003 @nildaebony @iwishyoucouldbekissed @lostinthoughts23 @tamanamohain @newtstarmander @suchatinyinfinity @blushingskywalker @queencocoakimmie @funerals-with-cake @love-dria @arrowswithwifi @swiftyhowlz @cheyfleur @dark-night-sky-99 @margot-black @celestegolden @king4thesirens @beautifuldesastre @curlyhairedblueeyedangel @kryyta @russosprettydiamondnow @myplaceofheavenorhell @cafeconsoya @dorkybryan

Let me know if you want to be added to my Billy Russo Tag List @something-tofightfor @piink-magnolias @hoodedhavok @aylinnmaslow @musingsofbanana @bluebird214 @rileyblues @nerrdstark @that-bwitch @ethereal-heavcns @queenisabella789 @colddecember-night @j-finco @arthoeaesthetixbs​ @tomhiddlestonsbeard @mischiefs-never-managed @romanceyour-ego @evyiione @drinix @sweetheart-im-the-boss @thebabblingbook @katieswinforddiaries @benbarnesfanforever @releasethekracko @itsjustmylifeconfessions @nostalgic-uncertainty @aveatquevale- @clarasworldofwonders @ladyblablabla​ @thehanneloner @hellostarposts @girlwhoisfearless @maria-beretta @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo @marcelskittel @fictionwillneverdie @avipshamitra @hysteriadarling @living-on-rice @hello-la-v-en-rose @tiredofthisgeneration @marveliskindacool @giggleberts @stateofloveandvedder @encounterthepast @ironstank @spettrocoli @xserenax-13 @sleepwalkingelite @dreamingofonceuponatime @supernaturalcat7 @rosebunnie @damagelove @iblogabout-stuff @petersunderoos96 @doneobrien @littlemermaidprobz @agent-scully-182 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes​ @ania2603 @screwmesiriusblack @figlia--della--luna @balladblood @cloudywithachanceofcupcakes-blog @jessicahh @flightoftheflightrisk @slamharder @roschele

[berniesrevolution]

Most Americans consider themselves part of the “middle class,” but no one can agree on what term that means. The problem? If sizing up the middle class is difficult enough, it’s even harder to say that circumstances within this group have changed. But they certainly have. As you’ll discover in this Fortune special report, life has gotten more difficult for the millions of people within the middle class. We dispatched more than 50 people to discover why the American dream has been fading for far too many.

In this section, we examine the current state of affairs by speaking with the people affected most by it. What we learned: Chasing the American dream was once exhilarating; now it’s exhausting.

Trailer Park Living in Techtopia

Umbelina Martinez in the kitchen of her home at the Buena Vista Mobile Home Park in Palo Alto, Calif., one of the priciest cities in the U.S. to live in.

When Umbelina Martinez’s family first came to the United States decades ago, from ­Michoacan, Mexico, they settled in a three-bedroom house in Redwood City, Calif. It wasn’t all theirs; 25 people lived on the property, sharing a single bathroom. Martinez’s family of eight squeezed into one bedroom. “My mom and dad had to step over us kids to get to the door,” she recalls.

Today, the 46-year-old single mother of three has much more spacious accommodations: a 200-square-foot mobile home in a trailer park in Palo Alto, the heart of the technology industry and one of the most expensive cities in the country. She has lived there 13 years.

“Who wouldn’t wish to live in Palo Alto?” she asks, seated in her kitchen, which doubles as a living room, dining room, and storage space. Its thin walls are painted pale green, and there is a black refrigerator set against one wall, topped with a TV monitor. (The small quarters call for some creative design.) Kiwis and oranges rest on a tiny table pushed so close to the door that it almost touches.

Most of Martinez’s neighbors live in two- or three-room trailers with their families. Many keep pets. Their homes come in an array of colors, and some feature tiny gardens blooming with flowers and hot peppers.

If Palo Alto, with its many Silicon Valley billionaires, seems like an unlikely location for trailer living, that’s because it is. The Buena Vista Mobile Home Park, tucked behind a Valerogas station on one of the city’s busiest streets, is home to just over 100 trailers and about 400 residents, including Martinez and her kids; her mother, sister, and brother; and his family. (Her mother lives with her; her sister and brother have separate mobile homes.) The residents of the park are mostly working-class immigrants who hold jobs in nearby restaurants, hair salons, and construction sites. They pay around $1,400 a month for rent and utilities in an area where the median home price is $3.2 million.

“For my family and me, it would be impossible to live anywhere else in Palo Alto,” says Martinez, who works as a banquet server at the nearby Four Seasons Hotel.

Buena Vista started out as a road-stop general store and motel in the 1920s. Over the years, it grew into one of the last sources of low-income housing in Palo Alto. In 2012 its then owners informed the residents of the mobile home park that they wanted to sell the property to an apartment complex developer. The plan included some restitution for residents, who would be evicted.

“I didn’t want the money,” says Don Roberto Munoz, one of Martinez’s neighbors. “I wanted my daughters to stay in the schools here.”

Martinez and others echoed the sentiment. So they banded together, aided by supporters from Palo Alto. In 2017 the Santa Clara County Housing Authority purchased the property for $40 million, allowing tenants to stay put.

Martinez’s sister Maria now serves as the president of Buena Vista’s residents association. “It is important to show that there isn’t just one way of thinking,” Maria says. Just a few miles west of her one-room trailer, the founder of Sun Microsystems is selling his four-story mansion. The price? $96.8 million. —By Michal Lev-Ram; Photographs by Winni Wintermeyer for Fortune

A Fight To Preserve His Public Pension

Louisville teacher Matthew Kaufmann, 39, stands his ground.

Teacher Matthew Kaufmann sits for a portrait in his classroom at Marion C. Moore School in Louisville, Ky. on December 14, 2018. Luke Sharrett for Fortune

I do fine—for now. I’m a high school English teacher. I have a condo, a girlfriend, and $70,000 a year. We glamp. But sitting in comfort isn’t comfortable if you’re doing it only because standing up marks you as an enemy. In 2018, I stood up.

The governor of Kentucky rushed a bad pension reform bill through the legislature in a day. In April, teachers from all 120 counties called in sick to protest in Frankfort. Every public school district was closed. The governor’s response was to say that because of us not doing our jobs that day, kids were getting molested and using drugs for the first time. He called us thugs. He said we weren’t sophisticated enough to understand our own pension plan. They all think of us as babysitters, but I don’t know any babysitters who are required by law to do professional development every year or who need multiple master’s degrees. I have to do my job while I defend my profession. It’s exhausting.

Used to be we could retire in 25 years. Now it’s 27. They move the goalposts. I don’t mind failing as long as I’m failing forward, but this is sabotage. We used to be a country of opportunity. Now we’re a country of hope. Hope is the tax they’re always raising.

People in the margins are being pushed off the page. If you’re not vigilant, you get taken advantage of. We have to be alchemists, turning nothing into something, forcing a system built to fight us into something that somehow works. It’s not democracy; it’s oligarchy.

I see a lot of politicians in this country thinking the point of power is to see how they can use laws to make money. Citizens ­exist only as donors or lobbyists. The powers that be define America by control, not freedom. I question often that I’m even a person to them.

It’s not a poverty you feel in your bank. You feel it in your mirror. There’s wealth that’s not monetary. It’s in community, culture, knowledge, experience, and engagement. As long as we measure a person or our nation by the stock market, we will always be poorer than we realize. —As told to Richard Morgan

(Continue Reading)

[imjustthemechanic]

Natalie Jones and the Golden Ship

Part 1/? - A Meeting at the Palace Part 2/? - Curry Talk Part 3/? - Princess Sitamun Part 4/? - Not At Rest Part 5/? - Dead Men Tell no Tales Part 6/? - Sitamun Rises Again Part 7/? - The Curse of Madame Desrosiers Part 8/? - Sabotage at Guedelon Part 9/? - A Miracle Part 10/? - Desrosiers’ Elixir Part 11/? - Athens in October Part 12/? - The Man in Black Part 13/? - Mr. Neustadt Part 14/? - The Other Side of the Story Part 15/? - A Favour Part 16/? - A Knock on the Window Part 17/? - Sir Stephen and Buckeye

Jim needs help - and the gang get another possible idea about where they’ll be heading next.

Since Sir Stephen had put the chair down, Jim pulled it over and sat on it – backwards, leaning his elbows on the back of it.

“I don’t know my name,” he said.  “You asked and I said it was Jim, but I didn’t know it – when I try to remember it, there’s nothing there.  I know I’m an art student, and I’m here to see the museums, but I don’t know what school I go to, or what airline I took to get here, or where I live.  I know I was following you around because Mr. Neustadt told me he’d pay me to, but if you asked me about anything else I’d have to make something up.”  He ran a hand through his hair.  “I don’t know my parents’ names, or whether I have any siblings. You don’t think about this stuff minute-by-minute, especially when you’re focused on something else, but now that I do think about it, it’s not there.”

Like Barnes on the train, Natasha thought.  Allen had asked him where he was from and he’d said Brooklyn, but he’d had to think about it.  Had he had a moment of crisis like the one Jim seemed to be having now?  Or had he simply dismissed it and moved on?

“I asked Mr. Neustadt if it were true that he’d, uh, made me,” he went on, “and he said yes… that they’ve got these bacteria, I guess, that take up traits from other living things instead of having their own DNA.  They can make a person, but they don’t live very long.  I didn’t believe him, and he said if I didn’t then I could test it, and he gave me this.”

Jim took out a pocket knife and unfolded a blade from it.  “It took me a while to get up my nerve to do it, but…” He put the blade against his palm, gritted his teeth, and prepared to drive it in.

Sir Stephen stepped in and took the knife from him.  “There’s no need to do that,” he said.

Startled, Jim reached to get it back.  “It goes right in and it seals back up!” he said.

“We will take your word for it,” said Sir Stephen, folding the knife back up. He handed it back to Jim with a warning look.

Nat cocked her head.  Sir Stephen was a warrior – he’d killed people, up close and persona, using a sword or a spear.  She knew he wasn’t squeamish.  Was it just because Jim looked so much like his old friend?

Jim put it away.  “So… yeah. Apparently I’m not human, and I’m going to die in a week or so.  And you guys have met other… ones… of me… before?”  He was dreading the answer.

“We have met other men who looked like you,” said Sir Stephen.  “Upon their death they vanished into piles of ash.”

Jim shivered.  “Right. So… I don’t want that to happen, obviously,” he said awkwardly.  “Mr. Neustadt said he can’t help me live longer, although I don’t know if he meant it or if he just doesn’t care.  At dinner, though he said something about Perenelle being more into biology than he is?” He looked up hopefully.

“We don’t know,” said Nat honestly.  “We only just learned that any of this is possible at all.”

Sir Stephen, however, got down on one knee to be on eye level with Jim, and put a hand on his shoulder.  “Your name,” he said, “is James.  It has always been James.  Your family called you Buckeye, as did I.  You were the son of a Cornish knight, a thousand years ago, and you died in battle with Count John the Red Death, a treacherous ally of William of Normandy. Your body fell into a crevasse, and it was there that this Neustadt found it and used it to make homunculi to do his bidding.”  He gave the shoulder a gentle squeeze.  “I am Sir Stephen of Rogsey, and you are my friend.  You have been my dearest friend for a very long time, and never failed to help me when I needed it.  Now I will help you.”

He stood up again, and turned to look at Natasha.

“Neustadt spoke of the Philosopher’s Stone as an engine that can transmute matter into other forms,” he said.  “Do you think it could transmute this elixir into human flesh?”

Natasha hadn’t thought of that, and she had no idea whether it was possible or not. “I don’t know why you keep asking me. I don’t know,” she said.  She was unavoidably reminded, though, of how she’d worried that both Allen Jones and Sir Stephen himself would disappear when the group got rid of the Holy Grail that had created them.  Jim had it even worse, in that he’d come with a ticking clock already hanging over his head.

“Madame Desrosiers must know,” Sir Stephen decided.

“Doesn’t mean she’ll actually do anything about it,” Natasha noted – Neustadt had said she was selfish, and they knew she’d healed Clint only because he got hurt trying to help her.  “We’re waiting for her,” she told Jim, “but if she hasn’t turned up by the morning, we’ll have to go.  We need to figure out which of these two alchemists is the one who destroyed that mummy, and have him or her taken back to the UK to face charges.”

Jim nodded, disappointed.  “Can I wait with you?” he asked.

That would allow them to keep an eye on him, at least.  “I guess,” said Nat.  “We don’t know for sure she’ll turn up, though.”

“That’s fine,” said Jim.  “Thank you. Even if you can’t do anything, thank you anyway for trying.  I don’t want to die.”  He sighed heavily.  “I don’t know if I really want to live when I don’t even know who I am and it sounds like I’m not anybody but… but I know I don’t want to die, and that only leaves so many options.”

“To live is always better,” said Sir Stephen.  “But if you must die, die gloriously, and not ignominiously falling apart.”

Jim raised his head and gave Sir Stephen a sideways look.  “Do you always talk like that?” he asked.

“He does,” said Natasha.  “He’s a knight from a medieval poem, brought to life by the Holy Grail, so he hasn’t quite caught up on the twenty-first century yet.”

“Oh,” said Jim, unsure what to do with this information.

“I’m a former Russian spy,” Nat added with a smile.  She wondered if he believed her.  “Now I teach archaeology at a university in Scotland.”

He just blinked at her.

“We’re weird people,” she said.

“I can kinda tell,” Jim said carefully.  “What about this Buckeye guy?  What was he like?”  He turned back to Sir Stephen.

Sir Stephen’s face lit up in a smile – he loved to talk about his old life, and particularly about the people he had known then.  “Buckeye was my friend from when I was very small,” he said.  “I Still have a lock of his hair that I keep.” He’d once had it in a medieval pendant, but had since bought a modern locket.  He pulled it out of his shirt and opened it to show Jim the curl of hair inside. “You see, I grew up in an Abbey. My mother had fled her husband and put out to sea, hoping to reach Wales…”

Nat shook her head.  Sir Stephen would be going on half the night now, but it would make him happy, and Jim was already nodding eagerly, hoping to find something he could latch onto as an identity of his own.  For however long this lasted, Nat’s own presence would be irrelevant.

“I’m gonna get us a pizza,” she decided.  “I’ll be back in maybe twenty minutes.”

When she came back, Sir Stephen was telling Jim about a time Buckeye had carried him back to the Abbey after Stephen had stepped in a rabbit hole and twisted his ankle.

“He joked that were I to wax any heavier, he would have to set me down and cut my throat as he’d do for an injured horse,” Sir Stephen said.  Nat noticed that his grammar had gotten a little more formal again, the way it had been when he’d first showed up.

Jim was startled.  “That’s a horrible thing to say to your friend,” he said.

“It was a longstanding jest between us,” said Sir Stephen.  “I knew he would never have proposed it seriously, unlike some of the crueler boys.”

Jim shrugged one shoulder.  “Go on,” he said.

Sir Stephen talked until long past midnight, when the pizza was gone and several bottles of sparkling water had chased it down while they waited for the evening to cool – which it never did.  While the men talked in the bedroom, Natasha went and sat in the living room, waiting for Desrosiers, or whoever else Neustadt had been expecting, to arrive.  Time passed. Nat could go a long time without sleep if she had to, but she was out of training.  Besides the murmur of voices in the bedroom, the only sound in the apartment was that of traffic on the streets outside, which was a noise she’d always found soothing.

If anyone had tried to come into the room during the night, they would have woken her – but Natasha slept curled on the floor until she woke in the morning to her phone telling her she had a text message.  She opened it, and found it was from Sharon.

Our stuff is here, it said.

A moment later, a second line appeared.  Some of it.  Apparently what are referred to as Newton’s ‘apocalyptic’ writings were bought by a Polish guy named Maslanka who has spent the last ten years or so in Santorini.  You know, the island with the blue domes.

Natasha did know the name.  Santorini, or Thira, was the Greek island that appeared on all the postcards and calendars.  She texted back.

Sounds nicer than Kotor.  We’ll head back and take a look.

Having learned their lesson yesterday, Nat, Jim, and Sir Stephen took the bus back to the hotel.  They arrived to find the rest of the group having breakfast in the dining room, and passing around several books.  One was a modern, softcover-bound facsimile of the Voynich Manuscript.  The others were a biography of Sir Isaac Newton, and one called Alchemy According to Newton, a summary of his magical and alchemical beliefs.

“Hi, guys,” said Nat, sitting down next to Allen.

“Morning,” said Allen.

Sam swallowed his mouthful of ham and cucumber sandwich and pointed at Jim. “What’s he doing here?” he asked.

“He is a man in need of help,” said Sir Stephen.  “He came to us in the hope that we can provide it.  I will not turn him away.”

“Because it’s not like the last two or three of him tried to kill us or anything,” Sam observed.

“Actually, the ones on the train only fought back when we tried to stop them,” Nat pointed out, “and Neustadt said the one at Guedelon was only after Desrosiers, and attacked us when it thought we were protecting her.”

“I’m not going to hurt anybody,” Jim said.  “At least, I don’t feel like I am.  I don’t want to.”  He looked worried.  It seemed to have occurred to him that maybe Neustadt could control him from a distance, or had perhaps implanted some kind of hypnotic suggestion.

“We won’t let you,” Nat told him.  She noticed Clint rubbing his side again.  “If you try, Neustadt did tell us how to stop you.”  Pressure on the hyoid bone, she thought, could inhibit the vagus nerves, stopping the heart.  It wasn’t reliable in most people, though… apparently it was in the homunculi.

“If you’re a product of alchemy, yourself, maybe you can shed some light on this.”  Sharon handed him a packet of the papers Fury had sent them.  “Whether we’re going to Kotor or Santorini or somewhere else, we need to do some research first.”

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

The King vs. The Kubrick: 38 Years of THE SHINING

I have sat down in front of my computer a dozen times over the past week, trying to come up with a new angle to write about 1980’s The Shining. It is impossible. This film has been written about, analyzed and over-analyzed (see the documentary Room 237, and you will agree) to the point that everything that has needed to be said about the film has already been said. There are 6,000 articles about The Shining from writers much more talented than myself that can be accessed on the internet at any given time.

Everyone is aware of the shooting details of the film, how Kubrick emotionally terrorized Shelley Duvall yet coddled the psyche of little Danny Lloyd. We have heard about the set dressing, the outfits, the extra takes and the apologies for faking the Apollo 11 moon landing. We’ve been told these stories over and over since 1980, and, frankly, it’s boring at this point. So, what I would like to do, instead of running through the film and commenting on its merits or faults, is take a look at why the story’s creator despises the film so much and determine whether or not his points are valid.

We all know that Stephen King famously hates Kubrick’s adaptation of the story and that he has gone on record dozens of times since 1980 to let us know exactly why. His latest book, The Outsider, even has a small dig at the film, introducing a character who is watching Paths of Glory because it is “better than The Shining“.

I think we can all agree that The Shining is the most technically proficient, beautiful and frightening adaptation of a Stephen King work of fiction, so why has he held on to these disgruntled feelings for so long? Let’s take a look at three of his biggest issues with the film adaptation of his story and try to see if King’s version, or Kubrick’s, resulted in the better story.

    #1- “Jack was crazy from the first scene.”

In an interview with Rolling Stone from 2014, King went on a short rant about why he disliked the film version of The Shining. In it, he states:

In the book, there’s an actual arc where you see this guy, Jack Torrance, trying to be good, and little by little he moves over to this place where he’s crazy. And as far as I was concerned, when I saw the movie, Jack was crazy from the first scene. I had to keep my mouth shut at the time. It was a screening, and Nicholson was there. But I’m thinking to myself the minute he’s on the screen, ‘Oh, I know this guy. I’ve seen him in five motorcycle movies, where Jack Nicholson played the same part.’

  It has been noted several times that the character of John Daniel Torrance (Jack in the film) is King’s most autobiographical creation. He is a schoolteacher (check), a writer (double-check) who has a drinking problem (triple-check) and is genuinely afraid that his vices will cause him to harm his family (quadruple-check). I can understand the anger King has about the change in motivation for the character. The book follows this man’s decent into madness at the hands of the Overlook Hotel, it’s demons and ghosts worming their way into his mind and forcing him to try to hurt his family. The film, on the other hand, does not explicitly state that the ghosts of the Overlook are having any effect on Jack at all. Instead, it seems like Jack began his mental disintegration long before accepting the caretaker position.

You can see from the short conversation between Jack, Wendy and Danny in their tiny yellow Volkswagon that he is not necessarily fond of his family situation. He resents them for dragging him down and stifling his creative process. Writer’s block rules the world around him, and it is their fault that he has it. He hurt little Danny once, in a drunken rage. Instead of showing any true remorse for having hurt his son, in the film, Jack blames it all on the boy for throwing his papers around the room. He doesn’t blame himself or take any responsibility for it, instead claiming that it was a “Momentary loss of muscular coordination” (which, I admit, will probably be the title of my memoir). To please Wendy and to keep the family together, he vows that he will never take another drink, forcing him onto a wagon that he never wanted to be on and into this state of mental block. This planted a seed of hatred for the two of them deep within his mind that the isolation and continued sobriety of the Overlook fed until it bloomed into the hallucinations and rage we see at the end of the film.

      King wanted his character to be the victim of an evil force so that we could all see ourselves in his shoes. He wanted Torrance to be a good man, trying to be good and do good for his family that is swayed by the spirits that want his son’s psychic energies and powers. In the book, John has a moment of clarity during his rampage through the halls of the lodge, telling Danny that he loves him and to run. This obviously did not translate to the film version. There is no moment of humanity peeking through the curtain of red madness. Jack has transitioned into a grunting maniac, and there is no coming back from it.

So, which has the greater effect? I believe that Kubrick’s version is a much more impactful iteration of the John/Jack character. The moment of clarity John has in the novel suggests more of a “possession” rather than a true break in psyche. This does not make me see myself in his shoes, like King wanted. As time goes on, I see Jack as a more realistic character, a man who loses his mind and tries to kill his family. Possession takes the blame away from John in the novel. It’s not his fault, it’s the hotel that is doing it. Also, there is more finality to Kubrick’s version of the character. A possession can be beaten, it can be avoided, but madness cannot. You cannot stop the train of psychosis once it has left the track when you are 25 miles deep in the snow-blocked mountains. So, when it comes to the difference in central motivations for John/Jack, I have to side with Kubrick. The film’s version of the character is more believable, understandable, and downright terrifying.

  #2- Wendy’s Role

In his novel, Stephen King describes Wendy Torrance as beautiful, blonde and smart-as-a-whip. In Kubrick’s version, Wendy is reduced to a lank-haired mother-only in Shelley Duvall (Side note- I dare someone to besmirch Shelley Duvall’s name in my presence. She is a unique, beautiful woman that has had her world ripped apart by mental illness. He was very good in this movie, and to call her “ugly” or “dumb” is a sure-fire way to make sure you receive these hands.) In the same interview with Rolling Stone from 2014, King tells Andy Greene that Kubrick’s film:

…it’s so misogynistic. I mean, Wendy Torrance is just presented as this sort of screaming dishrag. But that’s just me, that’s the way I am.

  This is the most valid of King’s criticisms of the film. Wendy does nothing to save her family, instead, she stands there and takes Jack’s verbal abuse about interrupting his work and nods as if she is a dog cowering in the corner.  She fails to act when Danny is attacked in Room 237, instead she smokes and paces her bedroom, swearing to get them out of there. Then she, um, goes to bed. This gives Jack enough time to sabotage the SnowCat (their only means of escape), destroy the radio (their only connection to the outside world) and descend further into his psychosis thanks to the spirit of Mr. Grady.

Towards the end of the film, she does stand up for herself and tries her best to stop Jack from hurting them. He hits him in the head with a bat (although with terrible form… come on, Wendy), slashes his hand with a knife and screams an awful lot. This all comes way too late, and a smart woman who truly cared for her family would have gotten out of there at the first signs of paranormal interference or murderous rage. In other words, she is “presented as this sort of screaming dishrag”.

    I agree with King that Kubrick devolved Wendy into a prop for Jack to rage against, but I don’t agree with many people’s assumption that she is a wasted character in the film. She takes Jack’s verbal assaults, deflects his anger, tries to keep Danny from making his father mad, allows him his privacy and continues to hope that he will not hurt them.  In other words, Wendy is in a abusive relationship and cannot break out of the cycle. It is impossible for me to truly get into the headspace of someone who continues to be with a man who abuses them or their children, but this film is a glimpse into that world. She stays by his side through the drinking, the fighting, the screaming and the hitting, and she holds onto this tiny sliver of hope that she will someday see the Jack that she fell in love with come back.

So, while I agree with King about how Wendy is portrayed in the film, I still feel as if it is a good representation of the emotional terrorism that Jack has subjected her to over the years. She doesn’t know how to react because Jack has taken away her free will and she is completely dependent on the man who is now chasing her with an axe. In other words, she is not a “dishrag”, she is an abused woman trying her best to protect her son from the monster she married.

  #3- The Overlook

In the novel, the Overlook Hotel is the evil tearing the family apart. It has haunted hedge animals and possessed fire hoses that attack and try to claim Danny’s powers for it’s own vile vortices to contain. In the film, the hotel is just that: a hotel. Sure, it is probably haunted by overly-bloodied elevators, disintegrating bathing women and fellating bear-men, but it does not have the powers over the physical world described in the book. So which is more effective?

I believe that Kubrick’s version of the hotel is, by far, the most horrific version of the secluded setting. This harkens back to the argument about Jack/John’s motivations, in that the Overlook is seen as a possessive force in the novel. Possessions, I say again, can be beaten. They can be thwarted by good men with good intentions. The hedge animals were terrifying in the book and they gave 10-year-old me nightmares, but they are an example of how the hotel manipulates physical things for its own gain. It is a sentient character in the novel, but only a setting in the film.

  “[The Overlook] is simply a conduit for the chaos created by Jack and his insanity.”

  The true evil of the film comes from Jack Torrance and not a scrapbook in the boiler room. There is a sentience there, I admit, because it tends to attract men with hate in their heart to it’s caretaker’s quarters, but it isn’t the cause of these actions. In the film, the hotel itself has no grand scheme. It doesn’t want Danny’s psychic powers or anything else from the Torrance family. It is is simply a conduit for the chaos created by Jack and his insanity. There are spirits there, sure, but there are spirits in many hotels across the country. What the Overlook does in the film is simply push and prod Jack toward his rampage. It takes a damaged man and allows him to follow his own path to murder.

    As we all know, Wendy and Danny escape in the novel because the hotel explodes. In the film, they escape because Jack freezes to death ion the maze. As a horror fiends, which version is more terrifying for you? In one scenario, the evil is defeated. It forgets about its own faulty boiler and is destroyed. In the film, the hotel still stands. It’s spirits still walk the halls and bathe in Room 237. They will still be there the next time a family wants to spend the winter roaming its halls. This permanence is why I tend to side with Kubrick’s version of the Overlook. In the novel, a haunted hotel is blown up and the threat is over. In the film, however, the hotel stands, its ghost haunt, and the axes are still in the shed for the next caretaker who accepts the position.

King describes the main difference between his work and Kubrick’s film like this: “The book is hot, and the movie is cold; the book ends in fire, and the movie in ice”. This may sound like a straightforward statement, seeing as the book ends with the Overlook being destroyed by a boiler explosion and the film ends with Danny luring Jack into the hedge-maze to freeze to death, but it is much more than that. He is describing the difference between Kubrick and himself. King is the warmth, the humanity in the story, while Kubrick is the cold artist who distances himself and the characters from true emotion and feeling. This is a fair metaphor for the different artistic styles of these two men, but in my mind it is not a condemnation of the film. For me, fire burns out. Smoke settles and flames turn to embers. The sun may come up and winter may turn its pages into spring, but cold will always return. Cold always comes back to continue its feast, therefore making it the more permanent adversary.

  “In the film [..] the hotel stands, its ghost haunt, and the axes are still in the shed for the next caretaker who accepts the position.”

  Let me get this out in the open, I love Stephen King. He has gifted me with the characters and villains that I love most in the fictional world. He is the source of my passion for the horror genre and is, undoubtedly, the finest horror author that has ever lived. That being said, I think it is foolish to dismiss Kubrick’s adaptation of The Shining simply because King hates it with such a fervor. I have seen arguments online coming from people in all walks of life saying that The Shining is not a horror film, that it isn’t a true King adaptation or that 1997’s miniseries is the superior version because it sticks more closely to the novel. That, I’m sorry to say, is nonsense.

The Shining is one of the finest horror films ever made and it belongs on the upper-tier of King adaptations. On the film’s 38th anniversary, let’s let bygones be bygones and allow ourselves to disagree with The King for once. We can love both the novel and the film for what they are, and rejoice in the fact that we have two different, yet related stories about the Overlook Hotel that we get to enjoy.

  Are you as big of a fan of The Shining as we are, or do you think the novel is the better version of the story? Either way, we want to hear from you! Join our Facebook group Horror Fiends of Nightmare on Film Street and join in on the conversation! While you’re at it, bookmark our homepage at Nightmare on Film Street to stay up to date with all the hottest horror news, reviews and retrospectives the internet has to offer.

The post The King vs. The Kubrick: 38 Years of THE SHINING appeared first on Nightmare on Film Street - Horror Movie Podcast, News and Reviews.

from WordPress https://nofspodcast.com/the-king-vs-the-kubrick-38-years-of-the-shining/ via IFTTT