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let-it-raines · 4 years ago

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I Hope We Never See October (3/?)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Not gonna lie, I forget I'm writing this story, remember, and then the moment I sit down to write, I get called away. But here's part three!

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: One | Two | Three

-/-

His head is pounding. It’s been awhile since it has pounded like this. Usually, it’s from a lack of sleep from the nightmares or the stress. This morning, he knows it’s from the rum. He did everything he could to cancel it out – coffee, water, food, medicine – but his head is still pounding. He is a bloody lightweight now.

Huh.

Killian is making it sound like that’s a bad thing, when really, it’s good. A week ago he was standing with a beer bottle in his hand early in the morning tempted to drown his entire day away. Last night, he made it the entire day without wanting to get pissed and only had two small drinks to toast his friends goodbye.

That’s progress.

This hangover, though, damn. It’s a sign he’s making progress, but damn.

Or he’s simply getting old, which is something else he doesn’t want to think about.

“Fuck,” Killian moans, pressing his fingers against his temples as he opens his eyes. His neck is also killing him, probably from how he slept on this damn couch all night. He should have driven home, but he didn’t trust himself to. Besides, Ariel had offered the couch before she went to bed.

Emma had too.

He’d nearly left after she offered. She was likely only doing it because she assumed Ariel or Eric already offered. He gets the feeling the woman doesn’t like him, which usually isn’t something that happens with him, and that intrigues him. It also makes him realize how much of an asshole he is.

How has he gotten to a point in his life where he expects women to always fancy his company?

Killian sits up, his muscles aching, and slowly, he rises from the couch. The lights in the house are all off, and he knows he can leave now with no one knowing the wiser that he slept over, that he felt bad enough to not be able to drive home. Or maybe that he didn’t want to spend another night in that giant house by himself.

The floor creaks beneath him with each step he takes, but no one seems to stir. Killian finds a notepad and pen in the kitchen and quickly scribbles a note to Ariel and Eric. He said his goodbyes to them last night, and he’ll talk to them on the phone at some point today. He doesn’t need to stick around to say another goodbye this morning. It’s still early enough that the sun hasn’t risen, and they won’t be up for hours. Killian finishes his note, grabs his wallet and keys from the counter, and heads out the front door to his car. It takes him a moment to find his car, to remember what said of the road they drive on over here, but he eventually spots it across the street under a large tree when a light from the house turns on.

Killian turns to see it’s coming from an upstairs window, and Emma Swan is standing between the curtains. He nods, and he swears he sees the slightest nod in return before the curtains rustle and she turns off the light.

She didn’t get in until two this morning, and she’s up at six. How the hell is she functioning?

Then again, how is he functioning?

Killian’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and after he gets in his Jeep, he checks the message.

Elsa Jones: The girls say thank you for their new Leggo set. My bare feet do not.

Killian laughs and puts his phone back in his pocket. That’s how he’s functioning. He may have flown across an ocean, but he’d never leave Ally and Sophia. They’ve already lost enough, and Liam will have his head, someway and somehow, if he doesn’t do everything he can to make sure all his girls are happy.

To make sure Killian is happy too.

“Bloody hell,” Killian whispers to himself as he cranks the engine, “it’s too early to be thinking like this.”

He should be able to have at least a little reprieve from the voices in his head.

-/-

Killian doesn’t leave the house much over the next few days. He doesn’t have reason to. He’s got everything he could possibly need in the house, including his own private stretch of beach that he walks along a few times a day, but the repetition of nothing begins to drive him mad. He trains in almost the same way as he did when he was playing, and while that takes up a good portion of his day, it’s not enough to keep him occupied. He reads the books that the owners of the house left behind but finds it’s mostly romance novels he can’t stomach. For a day or two, he binges Netflix, leaving a permanent imprint of his ass in the couch cushions, but there’s only so much time he can spend staring at screens.

Elsa and the girls call more than once a day with them being on summer holidays, and he gets a call or two from Scarlet, who finally had the bullocks to ask Belle out to dinner. That was good to hear since Killian has been giving Will shit about doing that for years now, and it’s good to see that people are moving on with their lives.

He’s not, not really, but he’s not trying to move on so much as he’s trying to not be a total disaster every day.

Sitting in this house alone all day every day isn’t helping. Why did anyone think sending him to be alone would be a good idea in the wake of his brother’s death? He knows it’s more so the scum English tabloids would leave him alone and he could fix his public image so he doesn’t go broke before he’s forty from loss of sponsorships and possible opportunities to get involved in the league, but damn, this was a bad idea.

At least he’s not drinking himself to sleep anymore.

Or drinking himself awake. He thinks that feat is slightly more impressive.

Killian puts his bottle of water down and opens the door that leads to the deck. It’s cool out today, the sun hidden behind the clouds, and since he cannot stay here anymore, he decides he’ll go for a run. It’s been years since he ran outside and not on a pitch or a treadmill, but maybe it’ll be a good distraction. He’s noticed more people filling into the houses around him, the summer tourists showing up in large droves now, so at the very least he can pass time watching people while hoping no one watches him.

It takes him little time to get dressed, lace up his trainers, and pop headphones in his ears before he’s out the door. The roads aren’t flat around his house, so he drives the Jeep a few miles until he finds smoother, less crowded ground. Maybe it’s a way to keep him from running that little bit longer, but mostly he knows his knees need the flat surfaces right now.

He really has gotten old, hasn’t he?

Eventually, he finds what looks like a good path behind a long stretch of beach, finds a place to park, and then he starts running.

It’s horrible, which was expected, but he does it anyway. There are families lining the beaches, music playing from speakers and phones, and he watches as boats skip out on the water. Maybe he should rent a boat for a weekend and take it out. It’d be nice to be out on the water again. He hasn’t been since Liam’s death, the fear of something similar happening to him despite the unlikeliness, but maybe one day while he’s here. It’s not as if he has anything better to do.

Killian runs until the endorphins kick in and then again until his legs get tired. He’s an idiot, however, because he doesn’t think to turn around to his Jeep.

Bloody hell.

He stops and reaches his hands over his head, stretching out his shoulders, and looks to see what’s around him. It’s mostly beach, but there are several restaurants and shops a few blocks down. He notices the familiar Blue Dog Tavern sign and the long deck filled with their outside seating. That means he’s minutes away from a populated area of shops and restaurants where he could cool down and catch his breath, but he still walks toward the Blue Dog. There’s another diner around here he went to that was horrible, and he doesn’t feel like taking the chance again. He’s still over his phase of twenty-four-hour diners. He doesn’t think he can handle more sticky tables.

Killian cools down on the walk to the restaurant, taking in the people walking along the sidewalk, and he dodges them until he’s inside and the cool air is hitting against his skin. It’s past the prime of the lunch rush, so the place is mostly empty. He thinks of going to the bar again, but as he wants to stay as out of the way as possible, he asks the hostess to seat him at a booth in the corner.

“Is someone coming to meet you?” she asks, smacking her gum as she hands him a menu.

“I’m afraid not. Just me today.”

She smiles, popping her gum again, and leans forward, casually popping a button on her shirt. Killian tries not to snicker at the obvious attempt, mostly because she is attractive, but the last thing he needs is to burn more bridges at one of the few places in towns he likes. “Well, if you want company, all you have to do is come find me. I’m Marina.”

He raises his brow. “Seems like you were born to work by the ocean then.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because your name is Marina.”

She cocks her head to the side and laughs. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, love.” Killian smiles and nods toward the front. “I believe you’re needed.”

She jumps and walks away, obviously putting a little sway in her hips when she moves, and in another life, he’d ask her to join him for lunch and meet her after her shift. He nearly does it now, but the man he’s been and the man he’s trying to be war with each other in his mind.

No burning bridges, he reminds himself. He’s done enough of that in his lifetime.

He orders water and coffee and avoids eye contact with Marina as much as possible, especially when she keeps finding ways to come by his table despite there being no other customers in his section. He texts Will and Rob, sends Elsa some pictures of the beach to show the girls, responds to Ariel about him doing another video conference with a hospital back home, and then he puts his phone away and tries to focus on his meal.

Unsurprisingly, it does not take a hell of a lot of focus to eat a sandwich and chips.

The music coming over the intercoms keeps him occupied for awhile, so does the television hanging over the bar until someone changes it to ESPN, and eventually Killian starts fidgeting for headphones and something to do while he waits for his meal to settle and drinks another cup of coffee. He needs to start the trek back to his Jeep, but that’s the last thing he wants to do.

“Heather, I get that you don’t want to be here, but your uncle and your parents want you here. And you either need to take it up with them or start doing some actual work.”

Killian recognizes that voice, and he sinks in his booth. He was hoping to get away with not running into her here today, if only to save himself the headache. He doesn’t have any paper money on hand, so he can’t pay and leave, and he imagines there’s very little chance he’ll avoid her when she’s walking right toward him with Heather, his server from last week.

She’s in those bloody jean shorts again. They barely cover anything and hug her ass to show it off, and the blouse she’s wearing is fitted to her skin. Her hair is down, hitting past midway on her back, and she looks just as gorgeous as she has every other time he’s seen her…which is exactly why he needs her to not notice him.

So, of course, she does.

Right after she teaches Heather how to clean the tables, she looks up and over at Killian, raises both brows, and walks toward him with her arms crossed beneath her chest. “Anything I can help you with today?”

“The check may be nice, Swan. Lovely to see you again.”

“Uh-huh.” She looks over her shoulder, holds up a signal toward Killian’s server, and he hustles to the back, presumably to get the check. “I can recommend other restaurants in the area. This place is great, but I promise there are better ones.”

He shrugs. “I like the food and how calm it is during off hours. Are you enjoying your house with no Fishers in it?”

“I don’t mind when they come to stay.”

It’s a lie if he’s ever heard one. Killian points to his temple and taps. “I know this may surprise you, but I’m actually quite perceptive.”

Her smile is tight, and she tucks her hair behind her ears. “The Fishers are great landlords, and I can’t complain.”

“I’m not going to tell them what you’re saying, love.”

She smiles again, and he can tell she’s still faking it for him. “All I can say is I’m glad not to have strange men scaring me in my kitchen at two in the morning. Now they simply show up at my work.”

He lifts his glass. “It’s good food, and you’re right, I don’t know of many other reliable eateries around here. Some of them seem a little too…made for tourists.”

“And the Blue Dog Tavern doesn’t? I mean, come on. We have a giant blue animated dog cutout outside. We’re on all those lists of ‘Places in Martha’s Vineyard you have to visit.’ We’re made for tourists like you.”

“I am not a tourist.”

“Says the man who is renting one of the big houses out in Edgartown and staying here for the summer. I’m guessing you go to the beach and lounge around the pool and go through way too many of the bad books the owners of the house have on their shelves.”

Killian huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in the booth. That was a little too spot on. “How do you know where I’m staying? Wait, no. Ariel, right?”

“Yeah,” Emma smiles, and God, it feels like a hell of an accomplishment to get her to smile. “She went on and on about the great Killian Jones.”

“Ah, so you know who I am then?” He leans forward and waggles his brows, flashing his brightest smile.

“Yeah, a rich British tourist who is friends with my landlords.” Someone calls her name from across the restaurant, and Emma holds one finger up. “Your check will be with you soon. I’ll ask Marina to give you some other restaurant recommendations on your way out. You’ll get sick of this place soon enough.”

“I’m perfectly happy with it, Swan.”

She shrugs and walks away, and Killian chuckles to himself. He doesn’t understand this woman at all, but she intrigues him.

He knows that’s a dangerous game to play.

Killian gets the check, pays it, and before he can escape, Marina corners him to give him more recommendations. She ends up veering into bars and clubs on the island and the surrounding towns, asking him if he wants her to show him around, but he declines and takes the list of places. Maybe he’ll check them out, but the last thing he needs is to go to a club. A bar, maybe, but not a club. He’s learned that there’s a hell of a difference.

He’s also learned that he’s bored to tears in this place, and no amount of calls to Ariel and Elsa can solve that boredom. He finds himself googling pre-season training information, checking up on mates and rivals, and while that’s a bit of a slip-up, he does manage to still stay away from looking himself up. He never used to have the urge to google himself or to read any of the tabloids, but ever since his retirement, he’s been curious. Were people sad? Happy? Did he leave any kind of lasting impact? Or did they all just see him as the drunk, washed up old man with a dirtied past?

That is a path he absolutely cannot go down, and since he’s already run a half marathon today, he decides to shower and get dressed to go to one of the places Marina recommended. If his time alone doesn’t start to get less depressing, he thinks he’s going to have to fly back to London and bother Elsa and the girls until they kick him out. He’ll pay for the remaining time on the house, but he won’t be staying there.

While the sun sets, Killian drives down new roads on the island, going to different towns and neighborhoods to see what others are doing, before ending up at a bar near his house. Marina said it was a spot for locals with good food and a quiet energy, so he doubts Marina has ever stepped foot into it. Killian pushes open the old oak door, and the lights inside are dimmed, the music quiet. There’s a guy playing guitar in the corner hidden between two pillars, and Killian finds himself sitting at the opposite end of the bar on a stool that’s cushion squeaks when he sits down.

Charming.

“You eating, drinking, or both?” The bartender asks, wiping his hands off with a cloth.

“Eating. Have any recommendations?”

“You have an objection to seafood?” the old man asks.

“Not a one.”

“Good. I’ll fix you up with the daily catch.”

Killian nods as the man makes his way through a door behind the bar, and then Killian swivels on his stool, looking around the place. He doesn’t know about the food yet, but Marina was right. It definitely has a quiet energy to it. There are people in nearly every booth and at every table, but there’s a hushed tone except for a laugh in the booth nearest him. His eyes are drawn there, and to both his surprise and horror, he finds Emma Swan with her head tilted back with laughter.

Fuck.

She’s definitely going to think he’s stalking her, and as hungry and bored as he is, he’s still tempted to leave. So of course, that’s when Emma stops laughing and looks directly at him.

Bollocks. Utter bollocks.

She blinks and stares at him a little longer, her brows raising before falling, and then she turns back to whoever is sitting in the booth with her. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see her arms moving, but he turns on the stool until he can see her no longer, wishing at the very least he had a water to nurse.

“Hiya. Come sit in our booth with us.”

Killian twists and looks at the brunette who’s now sitting next to him. “Pardon?”

She sticks out her hand, and he takes it, shaking it. “Ruby Lucas. You’re Killian Jones, the – ”

“There’s no need to – ”

“ – the guy who scared Emma half to death at her house in the middle of the night,” Ruby completes, grinning like the cat who ate the canary. “And I must say, you are much more attractive than she described.”

“So she talked about me then?”

“In her own special Emma way.” Ruby tilts her head back toward their booth. “And in my own special Ruby way, I’m inviting you to eat dinner with us. It’s me, Emma, and this super wholesome woman named Mary Margaret who will take you home and bake you cookies while asking you about your childhood because she had a good one of those.”

Killian chuckles, cheeks still flushed from him thinking Ruby knew who he was earlier – he is a pompous, entitled ass obviously – and from being invited to their table. “I couldn’t intrude.”

“I insist that you do.”

He likes her, he decides. She’s stunning and funny with no filter, but she reminds him too much of a dirtier version of Anna. It’s a rather peculiar comparison, but it’s true. It’s also half the reason he agrees to switch tables, rising from his stool and walking toward the booth. The other half a reason is the blonde woman with her face pressed into her forearms against the table top.

She looks beyond thrilled for him to be joining them.

“Oh, Emma, you were right, he is handsome!”

Emma bangs her head into the table as who he presumes is Mary Margaret smiles at him from across the booth. Killian slides onto the seat and elbows Emma’s side before patting her shoulder. “It’s alright, darling. I told all my mates you were beautiful, so we’re even.”

“Go to hell.”

He laughs, grinning at her, and slowly, she peels herself off the table. “Just so you know, I’m only here because Marina recommended it.”

“Remind me to fire her in the morning.”

“So,” Mary Margaret interrupts, tucking her short hair behind her ear, “tell us about yourself, Killian. Where are you from? What do you do for work? How long are you planning on being here?”

“Good God, Marg,” Emma sighs, slumping down, “give the man some room to breathe.”

“What? I’m curious.”

“You’re nosy is what you are,” Emma corrects.

“Aren’t we all?” Killian shuffles in his seat, hoping they move on to another subject, but when Mary Margaret turns to him, he knows she isn’t one to forget. “So, how long are you staying?”

“I have the keys to the house I’m renting until the first of October, but I imagine I’ll leave sooner.”

“And why’s that?” she asks.

Killian shrugs as the man behind the bar drops off a glass of water at the table and tells Killian his food will be ready in ten minutes. “I’m afraid no matter how nice it is here, I don’t know many people. I miss the people I’m closest to. A man can only spend so much time alone.”

“Then why’d you book a house for so long?”

“I needed to get away.”

“Yeah, but – ”

“Marg,” Emma interrupts, placing her hand over her friend’s, “please. You don’t have to know everything about him. Not everyone wants to reveal their entire life to complete strangers.”

She’s right. He doesn’t. But for some inane reason, he doesn’t think he’d mind revealing most of his life to her.

He has obviously lost his damn mind.

But it’s nice to spend a night with other people, to be included in the conversation, and while Mary Margaret and Ruby are delightful, he finds Emma captures his attention, not that this surprises him.

What does surprise him, however, is how much friendlier she is in this environment. He knows it’s her friends and not him, and maybe the glass of wine she had with dinner, but it’s nice to see her laugh freely and blush when Ruby tells stories of Emma he cannot imagine knowing otherwise. He can’t imagine Emma ever scaling a building to break into an ex’s apartment to get her favorite sweater back, but then again, that seems exactly like something she would do if she wanted it badly enough.

He fancies her.

He has no business fancying her, none at all, but when he ends up driving all three women to their homes because Ruby and Mary Margaret had too much to drink and Emma can’t drive the stick shift in Ruby’s car, he accepts Emma’s invitation inside for a cup of coffee.

He also accepts her invitation upstairs into her bed.

To hell with the consequences and burning bridges. He’ll deal with those in the morning when he isn’t so enticed by the trail of freckles running down Emma’s bare stomach.

-/-

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#I hope we never see october #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #cs fanfiction #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years ago

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Field of Poppies Part 16

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 16: Some news comes to Amelia and she’s not sure how to handle it without Tommy by her side.

Two more months went by. Amelia heard often from Tommy. Every week or two she received a letter and replied immediately. She told him about everything she could think of. Anything that might bring a smile to his face, to ease his burden. Whatever she could do to remind him of home and give him hope for the future. She told him the funny things Max did, the little quirks in his blossoming personality.

He refuses to go to bed unless I’ve checked under his bed for monsters. I think Finn might have been telling him some stories.

He’s fascinated by baby Wilbur. I don’t think he believes me when I tell him he was a baby once. His reasoning is, if he can’t remember it, it never happened. I showed him the photograph of when he was a baby, only six months old. He couldn’t be convinced that it was him.

It’s strange. It feels so long ago, yet, it only feels like it was yesterday. I often wonder where all that time went.

~~~~~~

“Breakfast, Mel?” Martha was in the kitchen when Amelia and Max came into Six Watery.

She went to answer that, no she wasn't feeling very well so she didn't have much of an appetite. But instead, she was immediately hit with a strong smell. Her stomach turned and she dropped Max’s hand so she could rush upstairs to the bathroom.

Polly heard retching from down the hall, so went to investigate. “Oh, heavens.” She found Amelia at the toilet. “Easy.” She soothed and pulled the young woman’s hair back away from her face. Dread came over the woman as she realized her earlier intuitions were confirmed. “Dear, I think you and I need to have a talk.”

~~~~~~~

“Letter, Tom.”

Tommy took the letter from the passing soldier and felt relief wash over him. The same relief he got every time Amelia’s letters arrived. Despite being in the middle of trench warfare, he had her letters to keep him sane.

Tommy,

I must admit it hasn’t gotten much easier these last few weeks. I still miss you more than I can ever describe. Everything reminds me of you. Max always asks for you. It’s hard to bear sometimes. But I manage to get through every day.

I have news. I want so desperately to be happy but I’m so heartbroken that you aren’t here so I can tell you in person. But Polly believes I’m pregnant. It may be too early to know, but I don’t want to question her either. The signs seem to match up with the timing.

I don’t know how to feel any more if I’m being honest. I need to hear back from you as soon as possible. I hope you and everyone else is safe. I miss you all. I will write you a longer letter when I've gathered my thoughts. But for now, I needed you to hear the news.

Love, Amelia

Tommy wasn’t sure what to say as he stared blankly at his wife's handwriting. The urgency he felt to return home was only heightened. He carefully folded up the letter and put it in his rucksack.

“Tom?” Arthur was sitting nearby, his back up against the wall of the trench.

“Mel’s pregnant.” He replied before his brother even needed to ask what was wrong.

He frowned and passed his brother a cigarette. “You think she’s going behind your back while you’re away?”

“No.” Tommy shook his head adamantly. He took the cigarette and lit it with a match. “She’d never do that. Never. It makes sense, I suppose.” He mumbled to himself. “She’d be about three months along.”

Arthur nodded. “Well, guess we can try to get you back by the time the baby’s born.” He smiled slightly, trying to give his brother hope.

But there was little hope left in the trenches. In those damn tunnels. At that point, Tommy could only hope he found his way back to Birmingham alive. Asking for anything else would be wishful.

~~~~~~~~~~

Around five at night, Polly closed up the betting shop. The other girls had gone home but Martha and Amelia remained.

“Well, Pol, you did say she could have the next baby,” Martha said, trying to keep the atmosphere light. In all other times, the news of a baby would be such a happy occasion. But those days, nothing seemed to be good news.

Amelia tried to laugh but she couldn’t even muster a smile. Every muscle in her body felt heavy. There was no use trying anymore. “I feel like such a monster.” She mumbled.

“Why?” Her sister-in-law asked.

“Because I don’t want to be pregnant.” She put down her pencil to rub her tired eyes. “I don’t want to be pregnant without Tommy here. I’m not ready to raise two children alone.”

“You’re not alone.” Polly insisted as she walked over to the table, setting the keys down.

“You know what I mean.”

Martha looked to Polly, sharing a concerned look. It would only be a harder pregnancy if Amelia fought herself the whole time. They couldn’t make it any easier for her though. They couldn’t magically wish Tommy home. If they could, the war would’ve ended weeks ago. It never would have started to begin with.

“You told him?” Polly asked, sitting down.

“I sent a letter two days ago. I haven’t told Max. I don’t know what to even say.”

“You don’t have to think about it right away. You have plenty of time.”

Amelia nodded but she disagreed. Six months wasn’t enough time. She hoped every day that she’d get the news Tommy was coming home. But for whatever reason, maybe common sense, she didn’t see him home by the time six months was up. With every passing day, it felt like more and more time would pass before she saw him again.

Tears flooded her eyes as the worst scenarios came to the forefront of her mind. “What if it’s years?” She let out a quiet sob. “What would I ever say to the child? What if he never comes home?”

“Hush, now.” Polly wrapped an arm around her. “There’s no need to think of such things.” She soothed even though she knew these things were not outside the realm of possibilities. “You know that stress will only make things more difficult for you. You need to remain optimistic. You have a family that will be with you the whole way.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia’s image kept invading Tommy’s nightmares. This would be startling alone because he never associated her with terror. She had always been a dream come true. But in the trenches, she joined his worst fears.

He saw her face on the soldiers who he’d seen die. He heard her voice screaming for him from the depths of the tunnels. The worst one came after a few days of little to no sleep. He finally got a chance for shut-eye and his worst fears descended upon him.

Amelia had come into view, looking as she normally did back home. But in her arms, she was carrying Max.

Help

Max was torn apart, almost as if he was mauled by a wild animal. Blood poured down Amelia’s arms as she carried their son to him.

Help

Tommy couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything to save his son.

Help

As she got closer, Tommy could see Max was still alive. His eyes were open and he was breathing.

Daddy?

Tommy awoke in a cold sweat, screaming. It took both Jeremiah and Danny to quiet him and stop him from thrashing around. From that point on, Tommy never wanted to sleep again.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hold still, Max.”

“Mummy, I want to see it!”

“No, love, this isn’t our camera. We can’t break it. Now, please stay still.”

“Mummy, I won’t break it, I wanna see it!”

“Max.” Amelia looked up from the camera lens with a stern look. “I said no. Now please, stand still. If you’re moving all over the place then the photograph will come out blurry.”

The little boy crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. His mother raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that what you want to send to daddy? You want to send him a photograph of you making a face?” It was difficult to be frustrated with him. Such a sweet little boy with chocolate-colored waves of hair and lovely hazel eyes. Even when he made such a face, he was precious. Truly, he was the apple of Amelia’s eye.

Max pulled a pout for another few moments before deciding to smile.

“There’s a good boy. Now, stand still for just a second. I want to make sure it comes out perfect for daddy.”

It had been a week and she had yet to hear back from Tommy regarding her letter about the pregnancy. But Amelia was trying to stay optimistic. It usually took a week for the letter to get to Tommy, and another week to get a response, should he write back immediately. Usually, he did. But she figured that maybe this time, he would need some time to think. It couldn’t be easy to process such information. Amelia was still having a hard time thinking about the baby and she wasn’t in the middle of an active battlefield.

She had already sent a picture of herself and Max before but they were ones she already had. The one of Max was only a few months after he was born. She borrowed a camera from a friend to send a more updated photograph.

~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of days later, as she tucked the photographs into an envelope along with a letter, Amelia thought about what Tommy might do when he opened it. She longed to see the smile on his face when he saw the picture of Max doing his best to stay perfectly still for the camera. Maybe he would show the others around him. She longed to see the pride in his eyes when he told the other soldiers that was his son. His Max. Maybe he’d tell him the news. His Amelia was pregnant again. He’d be having another child. Perhaps he’d speculate. Wonder if it was a girl this time or another boy.

A teardrop fell onto the envelope as Amelia sat at her desk in the betting shop. If she couldn’t be there for him, to comfort him, then the least she could do was try to put a smile on his face. Even for the briefest of moments.

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kuriboo · 4 years ago

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Revenge Return

Fandoms: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's, Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS Words: 16,326 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Category: Multi Characters: Fudou Yuusei, Fujiki Yuusaku, Crow Hogan, Jack Atlas, Rua (Yu-Gi-Oh)Ruka (Yu-Gi-Oh), Martha (Yu-Gi-Oh) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, this takes place after 5ds ends and before vrains proper starts, Adoption, Post-Lost Incident, yusei meets yusaku when yusaku is 6, yusei ends up adopting yusaku, Established Relationship

Summary: Martha looked away again, towards the kids, before facing Yusei again. “His name’s Yusaku. They found a home, and got some of his things, but there was no one waiting for him. They couldn't find any family of his. He hasn’t opened up much to anyone, he’s still scared, and he wakes up in the middle of the night from nightmares. He hasn’t made any friends, doesn’t seem to want to. He's six years old.” “I don’t know them.” Yusaku told Martha after a couple offered to adopt him. “I don’t know them. If I don’t stay here with you, the only person I want to go with is Yusei. I don’t trust anyone else.” Some days, working hard in the lab, it was easier to forget when progress was slow and things didn’t work right. It was easy for him to get lost in the loneliness that crept up on him a lot of days. The apartment still felt empty with Yusei being the only person living here around 90% of the time. He tried not to think about it much. Dwelling on that could be very depressing, how much Yusei had missed having company here.

link to ao3 in the notes. excerpt included below

⁂

It was inevitable for the six of them to split up eventually. It was only natural for their lives to diverge.

That didn’t mean that they were no longer friends, that they no longer kept in contact.

But, after it all came to an end, Yusei found himself staying alone in New Domino City.

He’d gotten offers to join the pro circuit, and he could’ve done well, too. Yusei knew that. But he knew dueling wasn’t where his passion truly was. Dueling brought him together with his closest friends, yes. It helped him through his childhood, a means to an end, gave him hope in a world that denied him everything. And he didn’t dislike dueling, it was still fun to him. Maybe it became a bit much after saving the world more than once, too, but it wasn’t that he was burned out, either.

Other things simply called to Yusei more, especially now that the Crimson Dragon was no longer calling himself as well. Yusei had a lot of skill as a mechanic, and still kept up the jobs he’d do here and there. Science, too, drew him in. Dueling connected him to his friends, but science was one of the only connections he still shared with the family he’d never been able to truly meet. Science, dueling sciences, shaped his life in a different way. Plus, he’d promised to work to prevent the horrible future he’d been shown.

He’d still duel his friends anytime he saw them, of course, but Yusei had studied hard, and now worked as a scientist, and as a mechanic.

Though.

The other former Signers had left New Domino City. But they weren’t the only friends Yusei had no, either. Trudge was still here, and he kept in touch with Lazar, the new mayor. And, of course, there was Martha.

Martha was the closest thing to a mother Yusei had ever known. She’d done so much for him, and for Jack and Crow, and Yusei owed her everything. Crow helped Martha out a lot before he left the city, but he was gone now, pursuing his own path. In his absence, Yusei had begun to help fill that hole and help Martha out a little. He was no Crow, of course, but Martha was always happy to have him, and the kids liked him well enough.

Yusei went over to see Martha one day after work, intending to help with the kids like usual. But as he stepped in, Martha pulled him aside. To where the kids couldn’t hear them. She glanced over in the kids’ direction before she told him what was on her mind.

“There’s a new child,” she said. “He was brought here a few days ago.”

“You have enough room for them all?” he asked. Martha would never turn down a kid who needed her, he knew that. But there were already plenty of kids here, maybe she was worried about resources.

“Plenty,” she assured him. “But how much have you kept up with the news lately?”

Not much. Yusei kept himself fairly busy these days, he hadn’t had much time to keep up with the world. Martha scolded him for working himself too hard, but let him off easy; that wasn’t the point right now. Yusei suspected she’d get after him for it again before he left, though (and, later, he turned out to be right on that).

Martha quietly updated him on one of the latest news stories: the Lost Incident. Six children had all disappeared for a long time- too long for anyone, but especially children. They’d only been found recently, thanks to an anonymous tip.

“Most of the kids had families to go back to,” Martha explained. “One went to a different orphanage. He’d already lived there before all of this. But one of them had nowhere to go. They couldn’t find family, or anyone who’d been taking care of him.”

Yusei understood. The new kid Martha had taken in was one of those kids, one of those victims from the incident.

She looked away again, towards the kids, before facing Yusei again. “His name’s Yusaku. They found a home, and got some of his things, but there was no one waiting for him. He hasn’t opened up much to anyone, he’s still scared, and he wakes up in the middle of the night from nightmares. He hasn’t made any friends, doesn’t seem to want to.”

Yusei turned to glance towards the kids as well. He couldn’t see anyone he didn’t recognize; Yusaku must not have been in his line of sight.

“Part of it is because of dueling,” Martha went on. “They found a deck with his things, and gave it to him. He must’ve liked dueling once. But he wants nothing to do with it now. The other kids want to get him to duel, and that’s not helping things.”

“How old is he?” he asked.

“Six.”

He paused at that. Six. The kid was only six years old, and he’s already been through so much. With no one looking for him, waiting for him to come home, at the end of it. Yusei had grown up learning first-hand how cruel the world was, but that didn’t mean he had to like it, even now.

Who knew what actually happened to this kid while he was missing. Nobody actually knew; there were suspicions of a cover-up floating around, according to Martha. From what Martha described of his behavior, it couldn’t be good.

“I know I can trust you with him,” she said. “Which is why I need to ask you a favor. Yusaku needs to go to a therapy appointment tomorrow, I can’t leave the other kids alone.”

There was no hesitation. “I can do it, just tell me where to go.”

Normally, Yusei stayed to help Martha with anything he needed him for, and sometimes he played with and hung around with the kids, too, but otherwise he usually didn't stay long. Today, though, he stayed for a little while longer. He at least wanted to meet Yusaku first. Make sure Yusaku knew who he was. Yusei was no expert in child psychology nor in trauma, but Yusaku probably wouldn’t appreciate going anywhere with a stranger. Any kid probably wouldn’t feel safe doing that.

Yusaku was fairly easy to pick out. Yusei knew all the other kids here already anyway, but even though Yusaku was sitting in a corner, his blue (and pink) hair was hard to miss. Yusei walked over to him.

“Hey,” Yusei said quietly. He crouched down next to Yusaku. “My name’s Yusei.”

Yusaku stared at him.

“I used to live here when I was younger,” Yusei explained. “Martha took care of me a lot. She’s helped me out more times than I can count. You’re in a good place here, I promise.”

He could hear Martha grumble from across the room, something about ‘as if I don’t still take care of you now’ and ‘you boys are more trouble than you’re worth’. He smiled at that.

Yusaku was still staring at him. “What do you want?” he asked flatly.

“I’ll get to the point then.” Yusei’s smile wavered, but it persisted as he aimed it now at Yusaku. “You have an appointment tomorrow, and Martha wants me to take you to it. I wanted to make sure you’ve at least seen me before, know who I am, so you don’t feel like you’re going somewhere with a complete stranger. I’ll bring you back safe and sound, I promise.”

Yusaku studied his face. “I have an appointment tomorrow. Martha wants you to take me. Your name’s Yusei, she knows you.” He nodded. “Okay. I got it.”

At that, Yusaku looked away from him. Yusei stayed there for a few seconds longer, but Yusaku ignored him. He stood up. Well, Martha said Yusaku wasn’t opening up to anyone. He shouldn’t have expected much else.

Yusei didn’t leave right away. He helped Martha out, one of the kids asked to duel him… Up to when he did leave, Yusaku didn’t do or say much. But anytime Yusei glanced over, Yusaku was definitely watching him as well as everyone else around him.

He came back, as he promised, the next day.

Martha and Yusaku were waiting outside for him. Yusei carefully parked his motorcycle, took off his helmet, and got off from the motorcycle. He smiled down at Yusaku.

“You remember who I am, right?”

“You’re Yusei,” Yusaku answered immediately. “I have an appointment you’re taking me to.”

“It won’t take long, and Yusei will bring you back afterwards,” Martha assured Yusaku.

“We can take my motorcycle.” Yusei pointed back to his motorcycle. He’d attached a sidecar to it earlier, and a helmet that should fit Yusaku well sat inside; he’d kept it on hand and used it a few times for Leo and Luna, when they were both still in the city. (Even now, Yusei only drove around in his duel runner, and didn't own a car or any other kind of vehicle.) “Or if you don’t want to do that, we can walk. I don’t mind.” Motorcycles weren’t for everyone. Yusei understood perfectly if Yusaku didn’t like the noise or the speed, or just preferred walking. He'd made sure to arrive with enough time to reach their destination by walking; it wasn't very far from the orphanage.

But Yusaku shook his head. “Motorcycle.”

“Alright then.” Yusei put his own helmet on before helping Yusaku with his, and strapping him into the sidecar. They waved to Martha, and then drove off.

Yusei had complete control over his motorcycle at any speed. Of course that held true for high speeds. Turbo Duels made that level of control a necessity. But he could drive well at low speeds as well, an important skill outside of duels. Regular life had speed limits for safety reasons and all that, and Yusei made a habit of obeying the law these days. But he drove even slower than the limit now. Yusaku said he was fine in the motorcycle, but still, Yusei wanted to make sure the kid would be okay.

Either way, they made it to the appointment in plenty of time.

“I’ll wait right here until you’re done. I’m in no hurry, don’t feel like you have to rush out,” Yusei told him.

Yusaku nodded and went in for his appointment.

Yusei sat down in the waiting room. True to his word, he wasn’t going anywhere. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do anything, though. He took out his phone and opened up the former Signers’ group chat.

The Planeteers

Leo: if i'm gonna be a professional duelist it doesn't matter if i fail this science exam right

Luna: leo you realize most cities are powered by duel energy now right? that's kind of yusei's job

Luna: and if we want to prevent iliaster's future we need to keep an eye on duel energy

Luna: it's kinda important

Leo: it's not a duel science exam though! it's a physics exam! you know it's physics we're literally both studying for it right now

Luna: i'm studying for it at least, you're just trying to get out of it

Yusei: it's not like you guys have to worry much about the ener-d reactor i've got it covered, you two should just worry about school

Leo: yusei!!! i don't need to know physics to duel right

Yusei: you want to be a turbo duelist right

Yusei: physics is a big part of turbo dueling. how fast you can drive and duel at the same time. how fast you can take different turns. how different conditions change that if your path is icy or you're driving on dirt. or if you get launched in the air. trying to figure out all that while trying to get the first turn before your opponent, and trying to figure out how to win the duel, it helps a lot

Leo: oh yikes

Crow: i never think about any of that stuff and i win my turbo duels just fine

Luna: crow you're not helping

Yusei: you should at least try on the exam, leo. it doesn't have to be perfect as long as you try

Leo: can you help me study then??

Yusei: i'm a bit busy at the moment, sorry, helping martha

Yusei: maybe later

Yusei smiled. Distance, as well as different paths, meant nothing. They were still a team, still great friends, and that meant everything to him.

He was soon pulled out of his thoughts, as well as the conversation. The door from the waiting room to other parts of the building opened, and Yusaku stepped out. Yusei took care of all the end of appointment business. With that finished, the two of them went outside.

“How did it go?” Yusei secured Yusaku in the side car of his motorcycle.

Yusaku stared silently at him.

“It’s okay if it didn't go well,” Yusei told him. “It takes time for people to understand, and while they don’t, it might be harder for them to help. But I promise I’ll be here to take you to your next appointment, too. And I won’t leave you behind anywhere. We’ll do the best we can for you.”

Yusaku wrapped his arms around himself and stared at the ground.

Yusei didn’t understand, himself. He couldn’t, when he really had no idea what happened to this kid. But he found himself wanting to understand. Yusaku needed help, and Yusei hoped a time would come when Yusaku could make a friend.

He drove Yusaku back to the orphanage, helped Martha with meal preparation before he left, after Yusaku was back safe. Yusaku stuck to himself, ignored anyone who approached him.

Work was keeping Yusei busy, but he came back to the orphanage to take Yusaku to his next appointment.

And his next appointment.

Yusaku’s appointments remained a consistent, repetitive thing in both his and Yusei’s lives. Yusei, of course, didn’t mind that at all. Every time, Yusaku and Martha would be waiting for Yusei outside, Yusaku would want to ride in the motorcycle, Yusei would stay in the waiting room until the appointment finished, and Yusei would take Yusaku home.

These appointments were supposed to help Yusaku. In what way, Yusei couldn’t possibly know. He didn’t know what Yusaku was like before his entire life changed like this. All Yusei could hope was that Yusaku would be happier. For now, however, Yusaku continued to stick to himself, rarely talked to anyone, and he never smiled. There didn’t seem to be any improvement.

It wasn’t that Yusei thought Yusaku should be getting better faster. He was simply worried about him, as he had been since the day the two of them met.

Maybe therapy was just taking awhile to help Yusaku.

Or…maybe it wouldn’t be able to help him.

Yusei’s thoughts were spinning circles as the door in the waiting room opened, and Yusaku walked out. As Yusei took him back out to his motorcycle, he had an idea.

“It’s been rough for you, hasn’t it?” he asked. “And, honestly, I’m kind of hungry. You want to get food on our way back? My treat.”

Yusaku nodded.

“Do you want a burger? Or some chicken nuggets.”

“…Nuggets.”

Yusei pulled into the parking lot of McDomino’s, and took Yusaku in to order and get their food. They took their food back outside to eat in Yusei’s motorcycle, though. Yusei didn’t want the crowded fast food environment to cause more stress to Yusaku. As they sat down, Yusei gave Yusaku his Smile Meal, and began munching on his own chicken nuggets.

“…I told you I grew up in Martha’s orphanage,” Yusei said. “My parents died in an accident when I was very young. I lived in a part of New Domino that used to be really rough. Martha did her best to make sure we were never hungry, but I could even tell as a kid that food was hard to get. No one in our area was allowed to duel, no one was allowed to escape, and everyone was always looking for an excuse to give us trouble. I used to look around in junkyards for anything I could find. My friends and I tried to make a change, but one of us got arrested for it. He thought it was my fault he was arrested, and I blamed myself for it every day. He got really sick before I saw him again, and when I did, he hated me. He and I figured it out, though, and we’re friends again now.”

Yusaku stared at him.

“We were able to change things for the better eventually,” Yusei went on. “But a lot of people tried to stop us. Even if we weren’t actually allowed to duel, we did anyway. Somehow, we ended up in all these duels just to save the city, where if we lost it would…be bad.”

Yusaku continued staring at him.

“Life isn’t fair sometimes. I never should’ve had to deal with any of it while I was still so young. And whatever happened to you, you deserve better, too.” Yusei frowned. “It was hard. Still is. But… I never would’ve been able to get through it without any of my friends. Going through it together made it easier, and we stuck by it together through it all. No one should have to go through life alone. I hope you can find friends like that, too. Friends who understand you and who’ll help you no matter what.”

Yusaku didn’t say a word. But he never looked away from Yusei. Not as they finished eating, and not as they drove back to the orphanage.

No one could get a word out of Yusaku for the rest of that day. Yusei didn’t hear him speak until it was time for Yusaku’s next appointment.

“Want to walk.”

That wasn’t a problem. They hadn’t walked before, but Yusei always made sure that they had enough time to walk if Yusaku changed his mind. What concerned Yusei, what interested him, was why Yusaku changed his mind. But, he wasn’t going to get an answer from Yusaku by badgering him with questions. He might not get an answer at all.

“Alright, then. Let’s go.”

Yusaku grabbed Yusei’s pant-leg just to make sure they weren’t separated, and they set off in silence after that.

When Yusaku broke the silence himself, though, Yusei was surprised.

“Why are you here?”

Yusei was suddenly thrust back to his memory of their first meeting. Yusaku had asked a similar question then, trying to gauge his intentions. This question, Yusei assumed, probably went deeper then just why he was where he was in that moment. It was probably more along the lines of, ‘why are you still here now?’ ‘why do you keep coming back?’, or even, ‘why did you open up to me last time?’

“Everyone deserves to have someone in their corner. No one should have to be alone.” Yusei smiled down at Yusaku. “It took me a long time to truly appreciate what that meant, that it applied to me, too. I spent a long time trying to do things on my own just to keep other people safe, while insisting on helping the people around me when they struggled. Because of that, I…almost lost everything, a few times, and my friends were furious. We were stronger together than apart, all of us.” He paused to breathe, he should get to the point. “I was lucky. I always had someone at my side, someone watching my back, even when I didn’t want them there. I still needed them. I don’t know if you have or not. I don’t know what happened. Whatever it is, though, I want to make sure you don’t have to be alone. Even if it’s something small like this, if I can do something to help, you deserve that much.”

If he’d grown up alone, Yusei never would’ve made it this far, or never become the person he was today. He never could’ve helped unite New Domino, or defeat the Dark Signers, or take down Iliastor. He didn’t want to imagine what kind of person he’d be now, or where he would’ve ended up.

#tater writes #tater.txt #yugioh 5ds #yugioh vrains

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girlreportsmoved · 7 years ago

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MY JUSTICE LEAGUE REVIEW.

okay, so as many of you know, i did get to see justice league the day it came out last weekend ! a bunch of people have been asking me to post my review, i’ve been incredibly busy which is why this did not post sooner. a bunch of spoilers below, you have been warned.

so OVERALL, i really did like it....sort of. i actually liked the length, it was much easier to process & observe then say, the avengers, but we got so m u c h cut, not even just from lois but like.....barry saving iris, vicTOR STONE, i m e a n ...... srsly. like they could have done it ! better ! within the runtime ! if they had just cut out whedons bullshit quips & barry falling into diana boobs! but anyways, more on that later. the score was so so good, esp the opening song i c ried but honestly danny elfman wasnt the best. i wouldve preferred junkiexl, bc at least he wouldve paid homage 2 zimmers score (im v bitter.)

i LOVED the opening montage. snyder all the way i mean, i s t an one(1) caucasian man. also lmao im referring to the gotham city scene, NOT the superman video clip bc a. cgi & b. like what purpose does it even serve if the camera doesnt immediately pan 2 lois after he answers that question lmao. but the batman cinematography over gotham was on p o int. honestly the way they designated each portion of the introduction to a specific superhero - like the coloring, the backstory, everything - i really liked the seperate sections each for aquaman, the flash, cyborg, etc. idk wonderbat was un nessacary in the dceu but i dislike b/en affle/ck so lmao. steve joke was NOT cool tho.

okay but i LOVE ezra millers’ barry allen. i would die for him im not even JOKING he was so GOOD and stole the show honestly. God bless they couldnt have picked a better actor tbh. i really wished we could have gotten more of cyborg’s insight/backstory but my man ray fisher fucking shined. aquaman strutting down the docks to icky thump while downing a bottle of whiskey is my aesthetic....thats Hawt. again, more backstory (mera was in for like 2 minutes i mean what the fuck)

but yeah. i wont talk much about batfleck bc a. no character development he was just there lmao and b. i dont like him ( i love comics bruce wayne ok just not gross ass sexual harasser b*n affl*ck playing him). i love alfred tho. obviously nothing can been the nolanverse alfred but this ones pretty damn good, they both do a good job of knowing lois is both the key AND the big guns, hats off 2 u BOTH. bruce felt so guilty tho i mean whyy bro some of it i think was just so diana could comfort him which was....uh ok. i like the gadgets !! also him adopting barry allen. i miss the batfamily!! also ‘whats ur superpower’ ‘im rich’ well goddamN. wonder woman was underused. i mean she can obviously hold her own in a fight against supes longer then that, if not beating him like r u KIDDING me. but ya my girl kicked ass

moving on, steppenwolf couldve used more backstory/screentime. i didnt...rlly...get...his motives aside from him being chaos personified or whatever. not the best villian but he couldve been tbh with the story he had. my AMAZONS slayed. the motherbox thing was explained so quickly, the connections between worlds was v clear like damn the mcu could never (i love marvel dont get it twisted tho.) i loved the themes of unity and everything but it needed more woman. i know this sounds arbitrary but...lmao so far, no male-centred dceu film has passed the bechtel test. wonder woman is the ONLY one. fucking ridiculous. not even a two minutes conversation with lois empathizing with her pain like goddamn.

clarks alive, we been KNEW, obviously. the resurrection wasnt super confusing but kind of like a letdown. i would have preferred if it hadnt been the league to resurrect him, instead like some other sun power or maybe steppenwolfs scheme or something, it seemed a little wrong. im not even gonna talk about henrys mustache until later when i unload the shit in whedon sO - i personally like his new suit!! he wasnt in the film too much tbh, honestly wb either owes me a full directors cut of him explaining his thought process about returning to earth and his character development theron, OR man of steel 2. like cmon man. boy came back from the dead wtf is going on there. much more of a classic superman then in bvs which i liked, but it seemed kind of rushed & i miss snyders depth.

now onto the main event: (jkjk but rly) LOIS JOANNE LANE ! first off i really loved her wardrobe, the contrasing blues and navies with her red hair like...i see u supes coloring scheme, i see what u did there. i love her bond with martha. i love amys face. but u know what i didnt love that ill 10000% elaborate more on and put into a seperate post for my jl verse? pretty much everything else. yes, a woman’s grief should be validated and never underestimated or mocked, yes, a woman’s grief does not make her any bit less strong. but lois, my lois at least, i strongly believe, would not have stuck to fluff pieces. she is VERY all or nothing when it comes to this, its either the truth, or nothing at all. in the event of supermans death OR disappearance, she would have grieved, she would have been heartbroken - but she would have persevered, evidenced in the comics heavily. more on this later.

i am VERY pissed about amy’s cut/reshot scenes. all the heartfelt clips shown during test screenings, all of zacks intentions, all of the original screenplay - lmao, cut. does lois ever talk to martha about anything other then clark? groceries? investigations? anything else to build a solid mother-daughter relationship? ok. the nightmare scene where she remembers clark? gone. the in depth conversations with martha in the farmhouse? zilch. the independent investigations of s.t.a.r labs unveiling steppenwolf/ the mother boxes that shows her manifesto in full force? nowhere. the goddamn proper clois reunion from the trailer where the ring was MENTIONED/CONFIRMED like every other logical person expected, the heartfelt reunion about truth and justice and love? fucking no w here.

lois lane deserves a stand alone. or at least a short, or a tv show. im fucking serious. all that lois/diana setup from bvs and they dont even t a lk. cmon. lois is a sidenote in the story !! im so MAD. like yes, forever grateful for ‘big guns’ and ‘backup plan’ but whedon fuckin twisted it all man.....what happened to her being the key? how the fuck did flash know about this? did they cut something else? i MEAN she has virtually NO onscreen contact with bruce, who should be regularly checking up on her bc shes the key & all, or from diana, who sympathizes with her pain via bvs/ww cinematographic parallels that were obviously intentional. no league interactions at all. im unimpressed.

and finally, FINALLY, the real bone i have to pick with this movie. joss whedon. gross ass bitch doesnt even cut it so im gonna try to keep this as short as possible. he reshot ALL of supermans scenes against snyders will, reducing the role of him and lois, disregarding the talent of amy adams and reducing her whole ‘arc’ to be about clark, the flash/diana boob faceplant, the horrible cinematography, bruces’ steve trevor references, its all fucking whedon. i could go on, but i dont wanna combust into flames. so. lets just say hes a piece of middle-aged bald white man mediocrity with a brain the size of a a literal bat shit. fuck him.

but OVERALL, i would give this film around a 60-65/100, which is being generous. they could have done!! so GOOD!! but no they picked a trash bag to direct the film reshoots? sad.

#incase u couldnt tell im bitter #jl spoilers /#heavy salt for ts

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mianite-season-3 · 7 years ago

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Unofficial Season Three - Chapter 3

Calm Before the Storm

Jordan’s mind whirled as he was thrown in and out of fragmented sleep, punctuated by nightmares of suffocation and attacks of mobs whose colors were wrong. His heart raced and it took him almost half an hour every time he woke up to calm himself down out of his frantic state. The process repeated, and did nothing but exhaust him. Deep breaths turned into gulps of air as he was pulled back into unconsciousness and his vision blurred as he drowned over and over again.

It only got marginally better when he was awake, and the only thing that grounded him to reality was Tom’s hand that occasionally brushed against his side as the other man slept or Tucker’s leg that was somehow invading his space. Jordan cherished the physical touch, grounding himself on it and reminding himself that he was not alone.

Finally, he gathered the energy to fling open his eyes and stay awake. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes, scrubbing away a trail of dried tears off his cheek as he scanned the room. Nothing had changed. His friends were all still fast asleep down the line of beds, with both couples now holding each other tightly in their sleep. The dogpile of wolves were still fast asleep in the corner, with the addition of Silly who’d curled up beside Alpha.

The man sucked in a deep, agonizingly slow breath. Then another. And one more. He focused his senses in on the mundane. The wrinkling of the bedsheets as Tom flipped onto his other side. The soft snores coming from the opposite side of the room. The soft blanket that Jordan was rubbing between his fingers.

Then, a sound invaded that wasn’t part of the mundane. Shuffling footsteps he realized, approaching from right outside the door. He quickly laid back down and pretended to sleep, though there was no chance of that now.

A petite shadowy figure appeared in the entrance within moments of him lying down, which transformed into Star’s white clad person once she turned towards one of the bookshelf walls. Jordan watched as she carefully made her way over to one of the bookshelves, furthest away from him, partially obscured by Tucker’s foot.

The small girl stood there for a while, holding something in her hands and staring at it while facing the wall. He kept his breathing deep, feeling almost as if he were intruding on a private moment.

That is, until Tom kicked out in his sleep and nailed him right behind his knee. Jordan cursed inadvertently and Star’s head whipped around, her golden eyes glowing brighter than he thought was possible as he curled his knee to his chest. He silently cursed his friend for being both a restless sleeper and a strong kicker.

“You were awake... the whole time?” Star hissed. Cautious, the older man sat up and nodded slowly.

“...Why?”

“Huh?”

Golden eyes rolled. “Why are you awake? All of your friends passed out the instant they got into bed.”

Jordan grabbed at the edge of the blanket, twisting it and fidgeting with it. “I... just can’t sleep. Bad dreams.”

Something in her expression softened. “Yeah, they suck.” Star turned back to the bookshelf, tapping her thumb against the spine of the book in her hands as she thought. Suddenly, she slide the book back onto the shelf with a satisfying clunk and headed towards the door, glancing over her shoulder at Jordan as she left the room.

“If you really can’t sleep, I can show you something cool.” With that, she left.

The man stared at the doorway for a second before looking around at his friends sleeping peacefully beside him. He should try to get some sleep. None that he’d gotten so far would hold him over for the next day, he was sure.

But the thought of facing his nightmares again pulled him out of the bed and sent him cautiously padding after the strange teen with the golden eyes.

“Star?” he called out quietly after he left the side room. A waving shadow from the other room caught his attention, and he poked his head into the room. Vibrant colors and bright light assaulted his eyes and he squinted against the natural beauty.

He’d gotten a quick look of the room before, but as he stepped past the threshold he realized he hadn’t fully comprehended how beautiful a farm and grassy green field was ever before.

Star had everything organized, with crops like wheat and carrots planted in nine by nine plots while melons and pumpkins lied past them in rows. She had sugar cane and cactus growing in efficient configurations and as he moved further into the room, posts of jungle wood with cocoa growing on them popped out.

“It’s so... normal in here,” Jordan mumbled to himself, brushing his fingers against a fully grown wheat crop in wonder.

The teen stepped out from a little room a bit ahead of where he was stood and caught the last part of his comment. Her head tilted to the side in mild confusion. “I mean, I don’t know if normal’s the word... But there is beauty in it, I guess.”

“But... the world outside is so... so...” Jordan waved his arms emphatically to prove his point. Star just stared at him.

“The world outside is so... what?” She stepped closer to him, curiosity and humor in her shining eyes. She clearly thought he was some kind of crazy, or at the very least sleep deprived.

He blew out a breath of air and a strand of hair fluttered into his face. “You know, it’s so... not normal! All the blocks are out of place! There’s no grass, or trees, or beaches, or anything!��

The girl’s stare got more incredulous. Then she broke a smile and laughed. “Oh, I get it. Nice joke.” Star brushed past him and nimbly hopped around the crops and waved for Jordan to follow her. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“I’m not joking, Star,” He added, following after her and taking extra care not to trample any crops. “This land is weird, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“And I suppose you’re also going to try to tell me the sky is yellow and creepers are red.” Star rolled her eyes at the impossibility.

“Hey, red creepers exist!”

The teen snickered as she lead him past a fenced in pasture with docile cows, bleating sheep and clucking chickens padding around. One pig looked up as they passed, quickly deciding the humans weren’t there to feed it carrots and going back to sniffing at the ground.

Jordan reached out a hand and rubbed the ears of a sheep that stuck its head over the fence, smiling when it bleated happily in response.

“Up here,” Star said, one hand on a ladder against the wall. She swarmed up it like a monkey and was soon out of Jordan’s sight. He quickly followed her up, his eyes suddenly assaulted by darkness as he blinked rapidly to regain some sight.

He nearly fell back down the ladder as he blindly grabbed out for the next rung and grabbed at thin air, but his muscles froze and kept him stable.

“Star, what is up here?” His voice echoed back at him and a thought came to him. “You’re not gonna kill me, are you?”

A snort answered his question. “If I was going to do that, my wolves would have ripped you apart the minute they surrounded you. Gods, you’re paranoid as well as crazy.” Jordan couldn’t tell if she was teasing or not. He decided she was, for his own sanity.

It wasn’t like he could do anything about it if she did choose to kill him, anyways.

Soft rays of silver light suddenly flooded the area, and Jordan took in a one by two hallway that lead towards a glass window. Golden eyes hovered as Star poked her head out from behind the wall, silently inviting him forward with a wave.

He cautiously clambered up onto the floor and approached the glass, gasping as he looked out.

The land was in shadow, with only the full moon on the horizon casting dull silver slivers onto the hills. Mobs upon mobs shambled around, and he watched an enderman grab a wooden block from a hillside and carry it proudly.

“Isn’t it pretty?” The teen sighed, gazing wistfully out at the dark quilted world. He nodded slowly. “I come up here every now and again, when it all gets to be a bit too much. Calms me down.”

“How can you be calm when there’s that many mobs down there?” He asked, gesturing to the posse of skeletons not far from what he remembered as the door.

“They can’t get at me. I did have an enderman steal a piece of my door once though, that skeleton’s arrow hurt like a bitch.” Star rubbed the joint between her shoulder and collarbone, and let out a long sigh.

They stood in silence for a while, each admiring a different part of the scenery. Jordan was still marveling at the fact that Star didn’t seem fazed by the amount of hostile creatures just outside her door, even though it was near amounts he only remembered seeing during the blood moon in Ruxomar. He studied her out of the corner of his eye.

This girl had been through a lot, clearly. If the nonchalant attitude towards past injuries wasn’t clue enough, the way she carried herself was a dead give away. Her hand was never far away from the iron sword at her side, which glowed dimly with enchantments. She stood tall and from what he could tell, she was well-toned beneath her white armor. And more than anything, she was closed off. Jordan couldn’t really get a read on her, at least not as much as he would have liked. She gave off a similar feeling that Martha or Wag did, where they had a lot of baggage but no inclination to tell anyone what was bothering them.

Although, Jordan realized, she wasn’t nearly as good as the other two were. As the teen took in a shaky breath, he noticed her shoulders shuddering and a tear running down her cheek, illuminated silver by the setting moon.

Unconsciously he found himself gently placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort her as best he could.

She stood still for a moment, then ripped away from his touch and stepping back, wiping her face furiously with her sleeve.

“Please... don’t...” Star’s voice wavered, and she rubbed the spot he’d had his hand on with her opposite arm. “Don’t touch me.”

“Sorry...”

Her eyes bored into his mind as Star stared at him, her mind racing a million miles a second. “I think you should go back to your friends now.”

“I don’t know--”

“Go! ...Please...”

He jumped as her voice cracked, and took no time to retreat back down the hallway. Once again he fumbled with the top of the ladder, clinging tightly to it until both his feet were planted.

As he descended, he thought he heard a small cry echo out from above him.

He squinted as he placed his feet back onto the grassy ground of the farming area, comforted by the snorts and scuffling of the penned animals. A chicken came strutting over to him and regarded him with its dark beady eyes. Jordan could almost hear the chicken mocking him with its cluck.

“Do you know what’s up with her?” he asked the animal, who only tilted its head and pecked at the ground in response. “She’s so hard to understand. She shows me her secret little hidey hole and then like five minutes later asks me to leave.”

The chicken clucked.

“I know, it is kinda rude isn’t it?” he commented, reflecting on the fact that he was talking to a chicken. “Why she gotta be darude?”

Jordan chuckled at his stupid joke. The chicken wasn’t amused. It walked away, and the man stifled a yawn.

He rubbed at his eyes and made his way back out of the small paradise, into the chest room and back into the side room where he crawled into bed and curled up, asleep in mere seconds.

Jordan didn’t even notice when Tom’s arm found its way around his waist again, as the younger man searched for something close and familiar.

#saphira writes s3 #mianite season 3 #mianite s3

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