#i hope mel can get him in her side as she intends

[narrativeats]

his misery and overflowing resentment got me going insane and the fact he had bonded with the eagle that was sent to eat his liver repeatedly is so fucking cool

[megalony]

I'm Her Doctor

Okay, so this is my first time writing an AU fic for 911, Eddie Diaz, as requested by a lovely anon. I utterly loved writing this and I hope to do more like this soon.

(If anybody would be interested in a Doctor AU series for any of the 911 boys please let me know)

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700

@ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: When a tsunami strikes LA, Eddie pulls overtime at the hospital to care for as many patients as he can. Little does he realise that his wife will be one of his patients, and he won't let anyone else look after her but him. (AU, Eddie is a Doctor)

Enjoy.

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Eddie's nose crinkled at the smell of the coffee. Too strong. A splash of milk he didn't intend. A hint of tea curdling the mix. No amount of sugar in the world could make this bearable, but Eddie couldn't be bothered to buy another three cups from the decades old machine to get the perfect blend.

He didn't have time to run down to the cafeteria for a proper cup and all the machines on each ward were either old, broken or used the cheap blend Eddie would never touch outside of work.

He only drank the coffee from the machines when he was desperate and right now, with a twelve hour shift that was probably going to be extended, Eddie needed something to keep himself awake.

His lips curled down at the corners when he took a sip and a shudder rocked his body at the curdling taste.

With a sigh, he turned on his heels, dragged his free hand down his face and took a step away from the machine. His break would be over in a few minutes, he had to get back to his office.

His head snapped back and his shoulders barged into the machine, pushing the decrepit coffee maker into the beige wall loud enough to create an echo surging down the corridor. Eddie lifted his arms and hissed when the coffee spilled over his hands and dribbled through his fingers while he pushed himself back enough to be out the way of the gurney speeding down the corridor.

"Dios, Marcy, where's the fire?" Eddie's voice lowered a few tones and he rose a brow when he locked eyes with the familiar nurse who almost ran him over.

The gurney was empty- well, it was empty of a patient, at least.

There were over ten IV bags wobbling about on the mattress like bags of jelly that looked rather weak and ready to pop. Rolls of bandages, gauze, bottles of anticeptic, cotton swabs and packaged needles were littering the gurney that looked like it had robbed the supply cupboard.

The young nurse paused in her speeding attempt down the corridor. Sweat trickled across her forehead and down the side of her neck, causing a few loose strands of hair to stick to her skin. She puffed and leaned against the end of the gurney, letting her shoulders sag.

When she relaxed, Eddie realised how panicked and worn out she looked. She hadn't been on shift for more than five hours, she turned up way after Eddie clocked in for his shift.

"You mean the flood."

"Pardon?"

"Didn't you hear? The ER's been taken over, we're swamped down there. Everyone's being redirected."

"Why?"

Eddie hadn't heard anything, he had been in theatre for the last six hours of his shift. He had been removing an appendix, sorting out internal bleeding and stitching up a ten year old. He hadn't had time to bustle about and find out the latest gossip in the hospital. Before he went into surgery, everything had been as normal as ever.

Now though, he had encountered at least four nurses running around like headless chickens. Another two of his colleagues had been called to the ER over the tanoid and Eddie had barely seen anyone on the upper floors here. He thought it odd, but he had no idea something big was happening.

Marcy tilted her head at an angle and let out a shallow breath. She took a moment to swipe her hand across her temple before she looked back at the doctor stood beside her.

"There's- there's been a tsunami, high level. It took out the pier and all the coast, at least four miles inland."

"Jesus," Eddie dumped his cup in the bin beside him, shaking his hand free of coffee remnants before he dragged his hand down his chin.

A tsunami? In LA?

There had been no warnings or signs about this. No one had been on red alert or suspected anything. Usually they got a small warning, maybe an hour or less before the disasters happened, like with hurricanes or thunderstorms. The hospital had preparations and plans in place, they could usually get set up ready for a natural disaster if one were to occur.

"We've got people coming from all over, brought in on trucks, walk-ins, even the LAFD are out driving people to us. The ER is overspilling… I gotta get these supplies down there."

"Go, go." Eddie patted her shoulder and watched her give him a sympathetic smile before she resumed her high-speed charge towards the lift at the end.

Eddie's shift wasn't going to finish anytime soon.

How could he go home when they were getting people being brought in from all across the state? People were dying. People were crawling and dragging their families down to the nearest hospitals, wading through water and grime and busted cars and broken telephone wires. They were trying to get themselves to safety and thousands of people could be injured.

There was no way he could go home when people were being brought in on trucks, needing medical help.

He was a doctor. It was his duty to help people and save as many lives as possible. Eddie couldn't go home until the hospital had people on wards and they had helped every person that came in through their doors.

Rummaging his hand in his pocket, Eddie fished out his phone. He was surprised to find he still had some signal, a tsunami usually brought down the phone lines. They had to be far in land here to be unharmed.

He had to call (Y/n). If he wasn't going to be getting out of here anytime soon, he had to let (Y/n) know and make sure she and Chris didn't venture out far with this mess going on. The last thing he needed was his family getting stuck in a traffic jam or being caught up or swamped somewhere with the waves still lashing out and coming inland.

She didn't answer.

"Hey mi amor, I don't know when I'm gonna be home, there's some sort of tsunami happening and we're getting casualties left right and centre. I'll call you when I know more. I hope you and Chris are having a better time, amor. Stay safe."

With his phone in his pocket and his pager in his hand, Eddie looked through the two messages he got. They wanted him down in the ER. He was on standby for any emergency operations if any casualties came through.

Into the chaos.

The tails of his pristine white overcoat flapped behind his thighs as he jostled down the stairs towards the emergency room. There was no point waiting for the lift when others needed it more and Eddie could use the stairs.

He didn't like what he saw. People sat on the floor in the stairwell and the adjoining corridors. Sat on blankets. Holding gauze to major cuts, empty water bottles sat beside them. Water trickling down the stairs causing a major hazard. Two, three and four people sharing one oxygen tank between them, taking turns with the mask to try and keep each other from gasping like fish.

Were these people all walk-ins from the disaster? Were these patients that had been moved out of their rooms and wards to make way for more dire emergencies?

How many more people were going to be coming into the hospital? How many more people could they help before they were overflowing and had no space left?

Could they even turn people away? Eddie had never known them to turn anyone away, especially not in a disaster. But they were clearly reaching maximum capacity if people were sitting in stairwells and lying in corridors. They might have to turn people away, how could they help people if they had no space and were using up their extra resources?

The doors swung open when Eddie barged into the emergency room. He clipped his ID badge onto his waistband for easy access in case he had to go and grab more supplies. All the corridors were locked for safety, if the patients wanted through they had to be buzzed in and all staff had keycards.

"Darren, what have we got?"

"What haven't we got?" The nurse deadpanned, dropping his shoulders as he spun to face Eddie. He rose a brow when he realised what Eddie was wearing. He wasn't in his usual button up shirt or trousers. He was in pale turquoise scrubs and his usual bleached white overcoat. That was a giveaway that he had been in surgery.

"Alright, smart arse, who's shift lead down here?" Eddie's hands moved to his hips and he took a look around.

The emergency room had never been so compact.

Most of the curtains were pulled back with little privacy so they could push the beds closer together and squeeze more patients in. People were sitting on blankets on the floor. Others were lining the walls, sat, crouching and stood waiting to be seen by anyone available.

Some were wearing wristbands of different colours, red meant someone was in dire need of help, green were those who could wait and amber meant they would need attention soon.

Black was reserved for those who were either dead or not going to make it. It had been a long time since Eddie had seen the wristband system come into play.

"Jameston was pulled up to theatre, Macabee's been pulled somewhere else, we're just helping who we can."

"Fuck." Eddie's fingers scratched through his scrubs until he was sure he would have red indents in his skin and blood wheels bubbling up beneath his skin. If no one was on shift lead then people didn't have anyone to report to, that meant people would just help whoever they wanted or whoever was closest. They needed a system.

If no one was going to take charge then Eddie would take that role himself. People could listen to him or get out the emergency room.

"Alright, listen up." He made his way over to the circular reception desk in the middle of the room. "If you don't have a wristband, come get one. Green bands in that corner, amber over here. If you have red then someone will come and move you towards the back."

Coloured bands were there for a reason, people were meant to be segregated into their groups, not compiled together like this. Eddie pointed for where he wanted them to go and waved his hands towards the back for all the red patients to be escorted over. The back was closest to the equipment and near the lifts for easy transfer.

"You three, go to red I want four nurses in the red corner at all times, do not leave those patients. Johnson, you're in charge or those three, deal with amber and get them onto a different floor. The rest of you sort out the greens, anyone who can be stitched up and sent out needs to go. We aren't a cafe we are here for serious injuries."

Eddie could see the funny looks he was getting, but no one dared argue with him. He was putting himself in charge and they needed to agree or go to a different ward for different orders.

This was a hospital. Anyone who had minor injuries needed to be given paracetamol, checked for cuts and sent home. They could get antibiotics from their GP and they could get seen by a pharmacist for any minor complications. They had no room, no space and no time to deal with anyone who wasn't in critical condition.

"We've been separated, w-we need to find out families-"

"Ma'am, I completely understand that, but you can't do that here."

"We need to see if our families have been admitted!" An angry father, or, Eddie presumed he was a father by his stance and his panicked temper, stomped his foot on the floor.

He wanted to find his loved ones. He had a few injuries that weren't life-threatening. He wanted to find his family and he couldn't leave the hospital if he wanted to do that.

He looked Eddie up and down when the doctor advanced over to him with a calm expression and his hands at his sides.

"Look around," Eddie's voice was gentle but his words were oddly firm. "We aren't taking names at the moment, we treat people, we get them onto a ward or on their way. We don't get names until they are safely in a bed or about to leave. In here, we have no way of knowing if your family have arrived, have been transferred or are in theatre."

They couldn't take names straight away. Some people weren't in any fit state to give their names or ask about their families. Their job as doctors was to patch people up and get them safely into theatre or onto a ward.

"If you go out into the gardens, the emergency services will set up tents and take names. They will help you find your family, but I can't have you taking up time and resources in here if you are fit and able to wait outside. Please."

It sounded harsh, but this was an emergency like no other. Eddie had no space for people to sit here and people-watch, waiting for their families to come in or to hear any news they were desperately seeking.

The emergency services and some of the hospital reception staff would already be setting up tents outside. They took names and cross-referenced against those who had been able to give their names on arrival. They checked for people on wards, people in the morgue and those who were dead but yet to be identified.

Once the man nodded, Eddie pointed at someone to check them over and guide the group of people out who had green wristbands.

He turned to face the reception desk, taking deep breaths to try and calm down the tremors that were rattling through him. But his brows furrowed and he sighed when he looked at the desk. Papers were scattered everywhere. Some were drenched in water from the patients who came in, scrambling for help at the desk. Others were scribbled so hastily that Eddie couldn't make head nor tail of the words.

"Janice, what is going on here?" His hands fumbled around, motioning to all the paperwork.

"I've had over two hundred people to sign in and send upstairs-"

"How do you know which ones are which?"

Her lack of reply had Eddie running his hands over his face with a deep, grumble that racked his chest and had his jaw locking in place. Could no one organise in this mess? Had they all forgotten how to cope in a disaster? It had only been a year since the Earthquake and Eddie had worked three days straight during that period.

They had a great system during that disaster, did everyone just forget how to cope and how to function in times like these?

"Dios, we can't work like this-"

"What do you want me to do? Doctor?" She added on quietly at the end, looking down to her hands when she realised she might just be speaking a bit out of term to a senior doctor.

"I want you to organise this desk. Forget about filing the paperwork, okay? Blank paper is what you need. Get people to write their names down if they can, one page for green, one for amber, one for red. Keep them in piles, then we know where people are when we have to log into the system after everyone's sorted. Get rid of this shit, start over."

Eddie's abdomen dug into the desk while he grabbed a large stack of paperwork and tossed it behind the desk onto the floor.

Forms were no good in an emergency, things needed to be plain and simple. Names, where they were being sent, that was all they needed right now. No insurance forms, no past discharge notes, just the main details. Names, dates of birth, allergies, that was it.

When Janice nodded, Eddie spun on his heels and looked around. Everyone was listening to him, people were more organised and it meant the nurses fluttering around here were helping the right people and they weren't stuck like headless chickens.

"If you just sit down here-"

"If he's amber sit on the left, if he's red move to the right but not in front of the bloody doors please." Eddie snapped, pointing across at the young nurse who was just about to sit an elderly man in front of the back doors that led off to the X-ray corridor.

Did people not use their brains? Where they all shutting down and waiting for Eddie to take charge? Was he going to have to order them all around and do their jobs for them? They couldn't sit someone in front of the doors because if they swung open that poor man would be knocked flying and he would be in a worse shape than when he arrived.

He could see the nurse bite down on her lip as if she might start crying and it made Eddie's heart spasm. But she held herself together. She put on a shallow smile and helped shuffle the man to the left and sit him down next to a cot bed with a young woman on.

"Doctor Diaz?" A timid voice broke Eddie out of his thoughts and had him spinning on his heels.

A young nurse. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five, maybe younger, he wasn't sure. Both her hands were clasped together in front of her and her fingers were scratching at the back of her hands. Her arms were shaking, elbows were pinned into her waist and her shoulders were hunched and pulled forwards.

She looked like she needed medical help with how anxious she was and Eddie wasn't sure if she was about to be sick or not. Tears were in her eyes and she was breathing shallow.

"Yes?" His tone was softer than before and he tried to smile to calm her down but it didn't seem to work.

"What- um, what do we do with the bodies?"

Her words stunned Eddie and he took a cautious look around. He had seen people looking like they were on Death's door, but no one seemed to have passed away yet. But when the nurse shakily pointed over her shoulder, Eddie saw.

He saw the body of a teenager, just a few years older than his own son. Not breathing. Not moving. Laid languidly on a cot bed as if he was passed out.

Eddie ran a hand across his face and took a strangled breath through his fingers.

He could feel his hands about to tremble with the adrenaline shooting through his system. He reached out, tensing his fingers to keep his hand from shaking and he gave her shoulder a squeeze before he spun to face the reception desk.

His nimble fingers scoured through the paperwork behind the desk until he found what he was looking for.

A black lanyard. A rectangle piece of paper, as black as night and as scratchy as hay. There were white lines for a name to be written across and a time, date and cause of death.

"Johnston! Gurney." Eddie waved the nurse over and walked the younger nurse back towards the patient. He handed her the lanyard. "Do we have a name?"

She shook her head.

"Then take him towards X-ray, out the side doors and into the foyer… he needs to be laid with the unidentified and recorded."

Eddie didn't want her taking the teen out through the ER doors. People were still coming in. No one deserved or needed to see a dead body being wheeled out, it would cause panic and it wasn't respectful. If they had a name then he could have been taken to the morgue. Without a name, he had to be laid in the tent with the other unidentified and the easiest way to get there without alarming people was through the X-ray corridor.

This was going to be a long day, and it had only just begun.

***

"We're nearly there, you just hang on for me, okay?" Tremors rattled through Buck's voice and gave away the sheer desperation welling up inside of him.

He continued to push the gurney with his right hand while his left hand deadlocked around his sister's palm. He could feel her hand, a mixture of sweat and salt water dribbling between their fingers, squeezing his tightly. And her nails that were split and had layers of mud stuck beneath them were scratching into the back of his hand. Holding tightly to let him know she was still hanging on, just like he asked.

The emergency room doors parted easily and allowed the 118 to glide straight through, but Buck's voice boomed over the rest of the sounds like a siren, demanding to be heard.

"Diaz! Where's Doctor Diaz?"

"Sir, we're very-"

"Get me Doctor Diaz now!" Buck all but slammed his foot down on the glistening tiled floor that was littered with smudges of blood, dirt and puddles of salt water that was as brown as milk chocolate.

He needed his brother in law. He needed Eddie. (Y/n) needed a doctor and the only one she needed right now was her husband.

Eddie spun on his heels, pen light clasped between his teeth and stethoscope hung around his neck. He looked over his shoulder, hands paused in mid air as he crouched in front of a young boy he was trying to assess.

It wasn't enough to direct people in the ER and try to create a system, Eddie was still a doctor and until he was called up to surgery, he had to assess people down here. He had to do his fair share, or more than his fair share when no one here seemed to be able to do their jobs properly. Eddie had assessed patients, sent them to X-ray, sent others to an MRI.

He had done CPR on an elderly woman, a tracheotomy on a middle-aged man choking on what he had inhaled during the floods. And he had the harsh job of sending another three people to the unidentified tent out in the foyer when they passed away.

But he knew that voice.

He knew that loud, sometimes obnoxious, but mostly caring voice that had risen an octave and sounded as distressed as Eddie had ever heard him.

Buck. His brother in law. Eddie thought his brother in law would be working today, this was an emergency and he knew Buck was all for helping anyone he could. But Eddie hadn't thought he would see Buck today, he thought their jobs would keep them separate and he would see him in a few days to talk and go over what had gone on today.

"Buck?" Paranoia flooded Eddie's voice as he narrowed his eyes and looked around the emergency room.

He found Buck easily. That sandy blond hair, damp and curled to the max. Those broad shoulders, towering over everyone else within reach. Those ocean blue eyes that held so much pain and panic within them that it physically made Eddie feel sick.

"Buck, what are you…"

(Y/n).

His wife. There she was. Not safely tucked up at home. Not at home snuggled up with Chris watching a movie or listening intently to the news.

She was laid on the gurney, looking worse for wear and clinging to her brother's hand.

What had happened?

"No, no no!" The pen light dropped to his feet, his hands began to shake and his shoes clicked against the floor as he skidded over towards his wife.

He didn't know the other people gathered round the gurney, but it didn't take much to work out that they had to be Buck's team who he worked with. There were three of them, to be exact, all gathered round the gurney like they were waiting for a premonition to take place.

The moment he reached the gurney, Eddie was stooping over. His trembling hands cupped (Y/n)'s face that was damp, although he couldn't tell whether it was sweat or sea water. His thumbs glided over her cheeks that were a mix of hot and cold all together, all at once. He creased his abdomen to double over the gurney and his elbows pinned into (Y/n)'s arms.

She shakily let go of her brother's hand and tried to open her eyes. They were still burning like the fires of Hell from all the water. She could barely breathe. She couldn't see properly. Eddie's figure looming over her was almost as if she was seeing an angel, guiding her to the afterlife.

A halo of light surrounded Eddie's frame, but (Y/n) just managed to make out the creases around his eyes, the bridge of his nose and those ruby red lips that were barely touching her own.

"Mi amor," Eddie didn't trust himself to speak properly and he couldn't drag his eyes away from his wife.

He pecked her lips, feeling just how frozen cold they felt against his own and it made him cringe. His thumbs continued to glide across her cheeks while he tilted his head to the right and looked up at his brother in law.

"Eddie," (Y/n)'s voice was quiet and each breath she took hitched higher than the last, but the look in her eyes had Eddie's heart breaking. She was relieved. She was staring at him like she had taken a long pilgrimage and had finally found safety and sanctuary with him.

She knew she was safe now.

"What happened- w-where's Chris?"

"We found them clinging on top of a swamped fire truck. Chris is in our truck, h-he's fine I swear. But you need to help her."

A small ounce of relief dwelled in Eddie's stomach. His son was safe. Chris was patched up and clearly didn't need any medical attention like (Y/n) did. They had found both of them and managed to get them out of the wreckage. (Y/n) had been saved by her brother and his team. She had managed to stay with Chris and not get separated, at least, not for very long. They had both been found.

"Let me look at you, mi amor." He hushed quietly and pecked her lips again before he reeled up enough to assess her.

His hands wandered up and down, checking for any deep abrasions or broken bones or anything that didn't seem right.

Both (Y/n)'s arms were pinned to her chest, but she deadlocked her hands around Eddie's arm. Tears flushed her face, sniffles and gasps left her split lips and she was trembling back and forth. Her knees were lifted up like she was trying to curl up and get into the fetal position to make herself feel better.

Eddie could see hundreds of cuts littering her arms and her exposed chest. Her shirt had been cut down the middle, presumably so they could assess her chest and there was a cut just under her fifth rib. It didn't look extensive, but it would need stitches.

When he tried to press down on her abdomen, (Y/n)'s knees jolted up and a mewling sob left her lips. Her head tilted back into the gurney, pushing her throat out and she gurgled through each breath.

"Hurts!"

"Shh, sorry baby, I'm sorry. Let me see, please." He gently moved her arms away so he could assess again but when he pressed down on the right side of her abdomen just above her hip, she coiled inwards again. "Intestine's ruptured. Shit."

"I'll go sit with Chris." Chimney patted Buck's shoulder before he jogged out, they didn't want to leave Chris sat on his own for too long.

"Her breathing's very laboured and mismatched." Hen had tried to assess (Y/n)'s chest, but she was still breathing. Every now and then she would cough or take five sharp, thin breaths all at once. She couldn't hear any water in her lungs and she was still breathing so that couldn't be the case.

Eddie swiped the stethoscope from his neck and pressed them to his ears. He let (Y/n) smother her face against his right arm while he leaned over her and pressed the stethoscope against her back to listen to her lungs.

But he suddenly felt (Y/n)'s forehead slamming into his arm and her fingers scraped through his jacket sleeves, digging into his arm so tightly she was cutting off his circulation.

He dropped the stethoscope and reached forward, taking the small torch light from Hen's top pocket before she could ask what he was doing.

He twisted (Y/n) so she was laying on her left side, facing him as he crouched down in front of the gurney.

"Open. Open up."

Eddie shone the light in her mouth and squinted to try and see if there was any obstruction.

(Y/n) clasped her fingers around his wrist, closing her eyes tightly as she started to shake. Something didn't feel right. Her chest felt constricted, her lungs weren't opening up and taking proper breaths anymore. She felt like she was going to be sick.

She could feel someone's hand at the back of her neck and when she started to cough, her body shuddered and she jerked her legs out when Eddie's hand moved to her mouth.

"I'm sorry- baby just keep breathing it's okay." Eddie grimaced as water spluttered past (Y/n)'s lips and dripped down onto the floor. He pushed his fingers past her lips towards the back of her throat, hating the way she squirmed and tried to push him away, but he could see she was choking on something.

Buck wrapped an arm around his front and gagged, turning his head away when he watched Eddie slowly pull a long stream of either seaweed or some sort of tangled up plant from (Y/n)'s lips. She must have inhaled it during the struggle when the first wave hit. She didn't even know she had inhaled that into her lungs.

Eddie tossed the seaweed onto the floor by his feet, shaking his hand, relieved he was wearing gloves for doing that.

"Janice!" He tossed his head to look over his shoulder at the receptionist who was dumbstruck, unsure what to do. "Find me an OR and a surgical team. Ruptured intestine, I need to operate now."

"Um… theatre four, floor two should be free."

"Someone bring Chris."

Eddie reeled up back to his full height, grabbed the edge of the stretcher and began steering them towards the back corridor through the middle of the ER. Chris could come up, he could wait in Eddie's office where Buck could wait with him once (Y/n) was in theatre and being looked after.

This was his worst nightmare. This was something Eddie had always been fearful of. Having his wife and son caught up in something horrid like this. He had been extremely lucky last year that Chris had been safe at school and (Y/n) had been at home when the Earthquake hit. Both of them had been out the way and in no danger.

Not like today. They had been caught up in this natural disaster and now Eddie had to operate on his wife. He had never done this before. He had stitched (Y/n) up at home a few times, but he had never had to operate on her or have her need any type of hospitalisation like this.

He wasn't supposed to operate on family members. It was too dangerous in case something happened or she died or Eddie made a mistake. But this was an emergency. All their staff had been redirected, no one was where they were supposed to be. Any doctor was being diverted to any theatre, operating room, ward and scan that they could to observe and help and intervene.

Eddie didn't have time to wait around for another colleague to come over and operate on (Y/n). He had done this procedure hundreds of times before and he wasn't going to trust anyone else to look after his wife the way he would.

"E-Eddie," (Y/n) gave a soft tug on Eddie's hand that she had confiscated and pinned against her chest. She could barely open her eyes to look up at him, but she was relieved when he leaned down and kissed her temple.

She managed to focus enough to watch him scan his badge against the doors and guide them out of the emergency room and into a more secluded corridor with less casualties around ever corner.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Don't l…leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere without you, mi amor." He kissed the back of her hand before the three of them crammed into the lift.

Bobby was hanging back with Hen, waiting for Chimney to come out with Chris so they could catch them up. The team weren't leaving, they would wait and stay with Buck so they could comfort him and wait on any news of his little sister. It had been a stroke of luck that they had found (Y/n) rather than any other team. Buck had made it his mission to look after his sister and he told them exactly which hospital to go to, although none of them had known why Buck was fixated on this hospital. Until they saw Eddie.

Once they were up on the second floor, Eddie flagged down a passing nurse before he turned to face Buck.

"My office is around that corner, second door on the left. I'll find you as soon as it's done." He unclipped his keycard from his scrubs and handed it over. Buck was welcome to wait in his office, Chris had been in there hundreds of times before so he would know where to go and he would be okay there. Chris had a few of his books in the office to occupy him.

Once Buck headed back into the lift so he could go find the rest of the team, Eddie began his descent down the corridor, pushing the gurney single-handed.

"Okay, reception said we have an emergency?" Cranston placed his hands on his hips and stood outside the empty operating room he had been told to get scrubbed up for another surgery.

But once his eyes landed on the girl on the stretcher, his hands fell at his sides and he shook his head. (Y/n). He had seen her here many times when she came to visit Eddie or when she brought Chris down for a visit. Eddie couldn't be here for this. He couldn't be the leading surgeon, he wasn't allowed.

"No, Diaz you can't-"

"No one else is touching my wife. I'm her doctor now, got it?"

[janeyseymour]

La Cosa Nostra- pt 15

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Part 13. Part 14.

cowritten with @schemmentis - we're gonna try to revive this story, and y'all better buckle up because it's gonna get so good

WC: 3.1k

You manage to get the girls up and fed before Melissa stirs on the couch. It must be a groggy Schemmenti morning considering the girls haven’t swarmed her and woken her up themselves nor asked you why Mommy was sleeping on the couch all weekend. You gently shake at your wife’s shoulder once the girls have their shoes on, remembering how upset she’d been when you’d taken them to school without waking her. Plus, you don’t exactly feel generous and worried about making sure she gets enough rest after your fight. 

You roll your eyes at her groggy ‘what’ when she cracks her eyes open. “Your daughters want to say good morning and goodbye, is what.” You mutter, stepping aside and wave the twins the okay to hurry to Melissa.

You step back towards the front door as Melissa kisses them each multiple times. Tuning out the goodbyes and I love yous. You’d thought after not speaking aside from the essentials over the weeknd you might feel less upset; you don’t. It’s the same as before you went to sleep the night you fought. Mel’s decision over you, her standing by it, and worst of all her hitting you in all the worst places. You can’t let any of it go, not first, anyway.

You force a deep breath when you feel your little girls running back to your side, opening the front door. “Let’s go, littles, before you’re late.” You mutter as you usher them out.

“You didn’t kiss Mommy again,” Rosie states once you get into the car.

“We were running late,” is all your response is. 

Once you’ve seen them off to their class safely, you leave the girls’ school. Your eyes roll when you hear your cell phone ring for the third time in the short trip to drop them off. You know without looking it’s Tony just like it was the last two times, no doubt to ask again for the ledger which you still have no intention of giving him directly. You don’t trust Tony as far as you could throw him. Still, you know you’d better have it in hand soon for when he produces whoever he answers to. It wouldn’t be good for that to happen and you to not have it.

You sigh as you slip back into the car. Which means you probably have to break your silent streak with your wife and ask her to talk to Barbara to get it back. You really don’t want to do that though. Your pride and your stubbornness wants you to hold out for Melissa to at least admit she was being an asshole the other night. Even if she won’t admit she was wrong about the rest of it. 

You don’t have Barbara’s number but you do know where she’ll eventually turn up. You pull the car from the school lot, driving to the church. If Mel intends to be in early at the restaurant today; you don’t feel that bad about making her walk this time.

You slip in just after the morning service. Thankfully, you still spy Barbara’s head in the usual back pew. You genuflect at the side, crossing your chest before slipping into the seat next to the older woman- the one your wife would usually claim.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Barbara greets you quietly once her head raises from her prayer. “Another bit of prayer needed, hm?”

“A little bit.” You hedge. You’re not fully lying; you do think it might bring some relief after your fight with Melissa. Which, now that you’re sat next to her, you realize you may have overlooked your wife telling Barb all about. “I was also hoping to see you.” You add.

“Oh? Well, that’s sweet of you. You know I’m always glad to see you or Melissa and your girls in the Lord’s house.”

You flash a smile, one you’ve flashed the Feds and other Family members alike to be as charming as you can. “You know our whole family is always happy to see you. Especially the girls.”

“Oh, I can’t wait for next weekend. They were positively a joy at Sunday breakfast, yesterday. Though you and Melissa were rather quiet.”

“It was…a long week, last week.” You admit. “Mel and I haven’t exactly been seeing eye to eye lately.” You hadn’t meant to share that last part but you lean into letting it off your chest in some way, at least.

“I’m sure you two will sort it out. You always do.”

“I hope so.” You answer truthfully. You might still be angry, and definitely hurt, but you still love Melissa with all of you. You hope the fact she’s been dealing with being relegated to the couch for a few days is a sign she still feels the same, too. Since she hasn’t disappeared to her Ma’s or even Kristen Marie’s.

“Are things okay between the two of you? Would you like to chat about it, perhaps over brunch?” Barbara offers.

You take her up on that offer, and you find yourself bringing her back to your house- just in case the Feds are still watching you. You mill about the kitchen as you prepare a few things before settling at the table with her.

“So,” Barbara hums. “What’s got you turning up at church more often than usual lately- both you and your wife?”

“Could use a bit more prayer these days,” you sigh softly as you take a bite full of your breakfast.

“You didn’t pray today though,” the woman points out. You just shrug at that. “So what made you really come to the church?”

You throw around the options in your head. You could break your silent streak and speak with Melissa, or you could ask the woman herself for the ledger.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you say softly, “I was hoping I would run into you. I need the book that I know Melissa gave you.”

Barbara blinks once, twice. “What book, dear?”

“Barb, I know Mel gave you the book for my salon.”

The woman’s face flickers through quite a few emotions before settling on a neutral face once again. “Oh. I still don’t know what you’re speaking of? What your wife gave me was not a book.”

“Babs, I need the goddamn book,” you sigh.

“Do not take the lord’s name in vein,” Barbara tells you sternly.

“Barbara, I need the damned book. My life is on the line here,” you plead. You don’t mean for that last sentence to slip out, and you have to do everything you can to hide it on your face; the severity of the situation. For all she knows, you’re exaggerating and just using it as a hyperbole.

“And why would that be?” Barbara raises a brow. “It’s just the simple finances for the salon.”

“It is,” You hastily agree with her comment. “But I…” You take a breath, forcing out the familiar lie you gave Valentina when she first noticed Melissa’s extra stress, just modified a bit. “I’m trying to work out selling the salon so I need the book with all the finances in it to go through with a potential buyer.”

“Selling it?” Barbara repeats, a hand pressing to her chest. “Why on earth would you sell? You’ve worked hard for that place, Y/N!”

“I know but it hasn’t been profitable since…well, since I don’t even know when, Barb. I thought I could juggle it and put it back in proper working condition but the clients just aren’t coming in like they used to.”

Barbara suddenly drops the hand at her chest held in shock. “Y/N, surely you know I’m no fool.”

You blink. “Of course you’re not, Barbara. Why would I think you were—”

“The book I have is not for your salon.”

“Yes, it is.” You say, brow furrowing in confusion. Because it is for the salon, both books, and you don’t know what else Barb could think it belongs to.

The older woman sends you a long suffering look, the silence between you drawing out for a moment. “Not for the legal business of your salon though, is it?”

Your face drops. Like, actually drops- jaw open and everything. “What?”

“I’m well aware of what I possess,” the woman tells you in a monotone.

“Shit.”

“What on Earth are the two of you thinking; getting mixed up in all of this- and with your two girls!” Barbara admonishes you sharply, and you feel like you’re being reprimanded by a principal.

You search for words, but none come.

“You two are so lucky I haven’t turned it in, and I nearly did!”

“Y-you didn’t?” you whisper out. 

“Of course I didn’t, and the only reason I didn’t is because of Cat and Rosie!” Barb states. “Otherwise, I would have!”

“I- thank you,” you say softly.

“The two of you better get yourselves out of this mess, before it destroys your lives,” the woman tells you lowly.

“The only way out of this mess is prison… or death,” you inform her. “And at this point, if either of us goes to prison, or something happens to Mel, I genuinely fear I won’t survive. When it comes down to everything, Melissa is the matriarchal figure in the family.”

“Neither of those things can happen,” Barbara tells you. “And that is not true- the both of you have the most equal partnership I think I’ve ever seen.”

“Listen, I really do need the ledger back,” you try again.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Barbara.”

“Your wife entrusted me with it, and while I do not agree with what I hold onto in the slightest, I am not breaking my promise to Melissa.”

“I’m sure she told you not to open the book though, right?” you press. At her nod, you continue. “You broke that promise. So, give. me. the. book.”

“I have to go,” Barbara states. “Thank you for a lovely breakfast.” She makes to head out, and you follow her.

“Barbara!”

She climbs into her car, and speeds off. 

You’re left standing on the porch of your townhouse, staring after Barbara’s car even after it’s definitely peeled its way out of your neighborhood. You honestly didn’t know she could drive that fast. Melissa loves to call her a grandma whenever she drives the lot of you anywhere. Barbara would throw back that it was only being safe and God forbid she get into a wreck because your wife wouldn’t stop back-seat driving. 

“Fuck.” You curse, briefly covering your face. “Fuck!” You repeat as you pull your hands away. You lean back into the doorway just enough to grab your keys from the hook by the door. You slam your front door shut, not even bothering to take the time to lock it. You won’t catch Barb at this rate, but you’re fairly certain you can catch your wife. 

You’re certain, at least relatively so, Barb won’t turn you both in. Not if she hasn’t already. But it sure sounded like she was just waiting for Melissa to ask for the book to confront her herself first. You just happened to ask before your wife. You know though Barb isn’t likely to be going to Twelve Tables to have that confrontation with Melissa. So, instead, you are.

You speed your way there, not really worried about the reds or stop lights or any possibility of getting pulled over. A ticket was nothing compared to what all hung in the balance now. You make your way into the restaurant as fast as your feet will carry you.

“Hey, Y/N, how’s—”

“Not now Val,” You interrupt your wife’s right hand. “Where’s Mel?”

“She’s in the back, but—”

You wave a hand at her, muttering a half hearted ‘thank you’ as you hurry through the kitchen toward the back office. You don’t even stop to worry about knocking at the closed office door. You’re throwing it open with practically all your weight behind it in your haste that has you stumbling into the room.

“Mel, we need to—”

“What the fuck?” Melissa grouses at the slamming open of the office door. Her mood doesn’t exactly improve when she looks up to see you, a glare from green eyes sent your way. “I’m in the middle of a meeting.” She says, the end of it coming through her clenched teeth with a nod to the man standing at the desk in the office with her.

“I really need to talk to you. Right now.” You rush out.

“Ya don’t talk to me all weekend, and now ya want to? Now? I told ya, I’m in a meeting. Get out.”

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti!” You nearly yell, stepping into the office and gripping her wrist and fighting to physically pull your wife from the office.

“God…damn it. Fine!” Melissa huffs, agreeing to go once she realizes you aren’t going to let her actually work until she does. “‘Scuse me a minute.” She says to the man before following you out of the office and shutting the door after her. “What the fuck is so damn important you have to try and literally pull me from work? One of the girls’ better be hurt or the world better be endin’, so help me God, or it’s gonna be you on the couch now, Y/N!”

“Our world might be ending,” you sigh quietly, eyes down. Then your eyes meet her own. “Barbara knows.”

The redhead has the same face that you wore when Barbara revealed that she knows what she possesses. “What?”

“Do you see why it’s so important now?” you ask her.

“Fuck. Fucking shit.” She runs a hand through her hair. “We’re fucked. We’re going down, and we’re taking all of-“

“She said she hasn’t turned us in because of the girls,” you whisper. “But we have to figure out what to do before something terrible happens to either us, or Barb and Gerald. They cannot get involved.”

“Fuck!” Melissa shouts.

“I know,” you sigh. “I know. I- I don’t know what to do.”

“How do you know she knows?” your wife implores.

“I was at the church earlier,” you tell her. And you recount the earlier events before, “and then she told me that the binder wasn’t for the legal side of the salon. She knows.”

“God dammit,” Melissa whispers. She runs a hand over her face. “Fuck. Okay, uhm… let me handle this meeting, and then I’ll meet you at home so we can figure out what to do.”

“I’ll be sitting in the back waiting for you,” you tell her. “And don’t forget that we do have to pick up the girls today.”

“I know,” she says. “I know. Okay. We’re gonna- we’re gonna be fine, and I- fuck.” You watch as red curls whip around and head back into the office.

With a sigh, you head for the back exit again. Valentina looks at you curiously, but you don’t acknowledge it. You just continue on your way. You pull your car closer to the back door, idling as you wait for your wife. She’s quickly slipping into the passenger seat in less than five minutes.

As you pull out of the lot of Twelve Tables and head towards your home once more, Melissa runs her hand through her hair as she glances at the clock. “Okay, we still have a few hours before we have to get the girls, so we can figure this out.”

“Figure this out?” You echo, glancing at Melissa. “Babe, we have what, four hours? We’re gonna figure this all out and fix everything in four hours?

“It’s just Babs.” She says, trying to convince the both of you. It’s clear she knows how much power her church friend holds at this moment, and it terrifies her. She takes a deep breath, rolling the passenger window down enough for wind from the drive to whip her red locks out of her face. “She didn’t turn us in because of the girls…we can, we can buy time.”

“How? How are we gonna buy any time?” you implore. “We got the Feds still digging into shit; who knows what part of the Family they’re eyeing right now? But it doesn’t matter. Any part of it goes, you know the rest is screwed.”

“That’s only if somebody flips. Nobody would flip.”

You take the risk of holding your eyes off the road a little longer than you should to give your wife a look. You both could likely think of ten people each from your respective sides that could, under the right circumstances, absolutely flip.”

“Fuck, I know!” She says, waving your glare away from her as she looks out the passenger side window. “Look, they ain’t got anywhere yet, huh? That means we still got time. We just need to make sure Barb really ain’t gonna do nothin’.”

“She wouldn’t talk to me past tellin’ me she promised you to only give it back to you and then that she knew.”

“Oh, sure, she can stick to that part of the damn promise.” Melissa grumbles as she gets out nearly before you can put the car in park in the driveway. She turns back just as you catch up to her on the front porch. “Ya didn’t even lock the door! Aduzipach!”

“We do not have time for another argument!” You toss back as you reach the top step, gently ushering her inside with you as you pull the door shut again. This time you do lock it behind you. “We have to be on the same page, okay? We really have to be or we’re definitely screwed. I’m still pissed, and hurt but whatever. It doesn’t matter right now. Right now what matters is you, and me, and the girls. That’s all that matters, which means we have to figure a way out of this bullshit.”

“Amore, you know there’s only two ways out of the life. Neither one lets us be there for the girls- at all.”

“And both I’d preferably like to avoid entirely.” You add, sighing as you slump into your couch. “So..w we have to literally do the impossible.”

“I don’t know how we’re going to do that,” Melissa groans as she leans into your figure.

Barbara Howard speeds off, and she doesn’t necessarily know where she’s going. But after a bit, she figures that you aren’t following her, and she stops at a local diner to pick up takeout for a lunch date with her husband, the senator.

TAGS: @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

[dontbotherwiththepronunciation]

Hehehe (¬‿¬)

Robb/Jeyne W

Ramsay/Theon/Jeyne P

Mel/Selyse

Beric/Thoros

And a single unproblematic one:

Grenn/Pyp

Hi Tânia...

R0ßß x Jeyne (W)

I really liked your interpretation of them + a few other authors, but what attracts me the most of it is the mystery in the relationship and since fandom has decided to hold a very (almost insultingly in my opinion) idealistic view of R0ßß it has lost some of it's appeal for me. Weirdly enough I still love them a lot, because they embody some aspects of Germanicus & Agrippina, a couple that I really love. And I overall really like Jeyne and how courageous she is. So yeah, my problem comes mostly from the R0ßß's characterisation always being that of a selfless saint who sacrifices himself for her honour (or worse, gets roofied).

Theon x Ramsay x Jeyne (P)

“oh my god, we have the same abusive boyfriend”

hellish polycule. I hate it. I genuinely hate Ramsay so much. People keep making Theon the whump protagonist in fanwork by having him suffer, but I want Ramsay to be my whump protagonist. I can't stand that motherfucker. I hope he has the least climactic death in the story because he is simply not worth it. I don't want neither Theon nor Jeyne to ever come near him again because him dying while thinking that they are gone and safe is my favourite fantasy. It would be a huge slight for him.

On the other hand, this is kind of canon and I enjoy all the canon. I love the canon ships for what they are which, in this case, is plain horror. I want to gorge my eyes out whenever I think of it. They make me want to scream. The dynamic in fanwork is less interesting to me because most of the time it just ends up being gratuitous smut or Theon being in love with Jeyne during their captivity which is a huge no for me. (No hate to anyone who enjoys either of those things, they are just boundaries) but if written as in canon (that is implicitly and as horror), then yeah, I'd read a fic.

But viewed through a less serious lens Ramsay CANONICALLY and simultaneously acts as the matchmaker, the third wheel, and the sicko lurking on the window I can't-

Melisandre x Selyse

I read it as one-sided canon. It's probably not intended by GRRM, but I do. I know for many people this is a mostly comedic ship not to be taken too seriously or the one they use to write $tav0s without having to fully disregard the women, but... Repressed sapphic who is head over heels for a religious extremist who wouldn't hesitate at burning her alive if her god demanded it...oh how relatable. + there is the entire topic of faith

Beric x Thoros

I really love the themes of reborn faith at the sight of someone who is a living miracle. I know it's not a healthy thing in real life, but I love exploring the idea of someone finding a purpose and a cause in the world because of one (1) single person who reignites long-forsaken hope in another. Especially if that person dies later on. + a bit of borderline necrophilia meets Robin Hood. @/mylestoye described them once as:

"this is my lover I’ve pulled him from the arms of death six times & though every time he’s a bit more faded & a bit more lost I feel I can’t let him go, he is a symbol of my religion he reawakened my belief & faith, I will follow him & care for him for as long as I can"

Grenn x Pypar

"If Pyp wanted to call me aurochs, though, he could. Or you, or Jon." - Sam II, ASOS

I know it's completely insignificant and GRRM didn't think anything while writing it, but I loved that division. Two sentences. Not one. He had to add it as an afterthought. I remember there was someone on AO3 who wrote exclusively for them in English and Spanish and I used to compare the translations trying to analyse the text. Need to revisit those. They just give me warm happy feelings

[black-metal-bard]

So I'm Building Mel's Ancestral Home in Inkarnate and I am coming up with so much lore based on these fucking rooms.

So this is Dilisnya Keep Proper, the tower being empty because it's getting it's own 6-Story series of maps. Those little red fonts are for binding demons, and they're the reason the demons Meliora's Grandfather bound can't leave, even though he has recently died. (Session One revolves around the party fighting demons while Meliora and her estranged father disable the fonts so the demons can LEAVE).

The fountain in the upstairs greenhouse is the entryway to a secret crawlspace between the first and second floor of the house(it is four feet in height, and I'm foreshadowing this by describing the Ceilings upon entering the building for the first time as "Lower than you'd expect for this type of house."). There is ABSOLUTELY going to be a fucked up little guy in there(someone her Grandfather had used as an "Assistant", AKA experimented on him. Mel is going to regard him as her "Uncle"). This will also be the only entry into the Tower.

This is the Tower's basement, first floor, and second floor(where the tower is entered). There will be three more floors I have yet to create.

Basement: Trapped in that coffin is a Primordial Demon who introduced an early strain of Vampirism onto the world. There are tubes coming from the coffin that siphon her blood, which can be diluted into a potion that cures Vampirism(and rots mortals on contact. Do not drink.). The hand is from a God-Enforcer that had attempted to remove the demon from the Material Plane--it was frozen there by one of Meliora's ancestors. The urns and statues are part of an extensive puzzle to free the demon...which is probably a bad idea.

First Floor: The fire is from a different demon bound willingly to the Dilisnya Keep, and it provides heat and power in exchange for food. Since Meliora's Grandfather passed(and her father isn't living in The Keep) the demon has been snaking its tentacles through the vents to eat rats and pieces of the demons that have overrun the Keep.). Appearances aside, he is one of the more Jovial entities in The Keep, and is genuinely loyal to the Dilisnya family.

Second Floor: This is the floor the party will enter from the crawlspace; it is also the Tower's library, lab, and study. That fountain is a key piece in the puzzle to free the demon in the basement. The crystals seem to be infernal in origin, and have been growing since the first Dilisnya to start doing evil fucked up magic built the Tower, and they have been slowly growing since. The torn book on the desk is actually an in depth study on Meliora's maternal lineage, and is how she finds out that she isn't just a Tiefling, but a Demi-Demon; and the plans her Grandfather hoped to achieve by combining the lineages(this is not info Mel will share with the party any time soon, but she will be able to be found in the study often).

But yeah I hadn't really thought TOO much about Mel's Father's family until I started actually building The Keep. The Keep was originally intended to serve as the Party's home base(and it still will) while the party unwittingly served Meliora's secret agenda and dealt with the political intrigue the Von Zarovich family is dragging them into. Those things are still true, but Mel's paternal family has gone from "This is her family tie to Strahd" to "This is interesting all on its own".

Also it amuses me that half of Mel's family are literally demons from Hell, but its the HUMAN side that are the edgy ones.

[maskofmilves]

Chapter 4: And Then There Was Hope

Characters: Melanie Cavill, Alexandra Cavill, Bess Till, Josie Wellstead, Bennett Knox

Warnings: None

She could barely see the outside from the window with the dark gray sky and the blowing snow more awful than usual and it was already getting really bumpy

The charts kept going back from yellow to red in a matter of seconds, sometimes green but only for a split second before it goes back to red or yellow again. They hit a rather big bump, Alex almost flies out of her seat, Audrey was probably having an experience of a rollercoaster at the cells,

"Shit!" Alex exclaims

"You alright?" Bess asked

"I'm fine, this just plain sucks"

"You'd think they would put seatbelts on these chairs!" The blonde laughed

"I don't think Alex knows what a seatbelt even is!" Ben popped in

"She would've been too young to remember, it's literally basically some material I don't even kno-" another bump, larger this time, Alex smirked

"Alright that's enough, be calm guys we gotta pay attention, Breslauer doesn't have the kindest rails"

They went silent as asked and all they could hear was the sound of violent rattling and shaking from the weather, BreslauerBreslauerBreslauer ah yes the place where she went looking for her mom only to find the data she left behind, not even a trace of her besides the goodbye letter, there is a spark of hope in her heart that tells her that her mom is indeed alive, her gut is keeping her optimistic on that thought but her sadness all crumpled up inside her says that she is gone for good and she went outside to let herself go.

"We should probably increase speed, to fasten this part, I'm sure the wind will calm down and perhaps the torque" Ben decided to speak up

Alex got out of her thoughts when he spoke, she doesn't really like to agree with him but he's right in this situation, she nods at him in agreement.

***

A while passed from when they sped up and were still on the same route, Alex had Ben take over while she went to go to the bathroom and change into her jumpsuit, she came back from Mel's quarters to find the rest of them back on the floor On the mattresses again I was guessing this is going to be the new routine every day that they were standing up or just like to sit down on the floor or the mattresses again until something pops up, it's not like they had a lot of places to sit.

The mattresses were the extra ones from Mel's quarters again and of course, Layton said they wouldn't take Mel's mattress for obvious reasons other than a sad and angry teenager and a ghost.

She sat back down and closed her eyes softly

***

Woken up to a weirdly loud sound of metal scratching and the red lights, Alex did not intend to go to sleep, she turned around to see everyone confused

"What the hell is that?" Said Layton

Bess huddled over by Ben to look at one of the screens, Ben was reading the data of the sensors that were set around the train

"Hey" Bess tapped his shoulder "what's going on here?"

"We are getting amounts of damage to the first exterior shell by the cold lock… it says semi medium punctures- wait-"

Red lights flashed again with an even louder sound now, Alex switched the train to autopilot because who knows what's happening

"There's a breach at the cold lock"

They all have expressions of confusion and being surprised

"Door one is still open and door two still hasn't," Ben said open-mouthed

"There's no way" Alex chimed in "no...oh god"

***

She ran towards the back of the train where the cold lock is, she got there and peaked out the second door window to see a breached body lying on the floor in

"Oh no no no no"

Alex smashed the button on the arch of the second door and door one closed along with the outside, Andre had an ax at his side in case of anything, Josie came behind her waiting for the code to work and the door to open up and she can pull in the body, Alex opened up the door revealing "Melanie? Jesus, oh my" Josie laughed as a tear rolled down her cheek as she was pulling Mel in.

Alex couldn't believe what she was seeing, the waterworks were coming now, taking off her cracked helmet she saw her mom's face covered in soft ice crystals, she tapped the side of her face to wake her up.

"Mom?! Mom?!"

Nothing. She checked her pulse as they were taking off her suit that had two cuts in it, gladly there is, Melanie's eyes opened barley and let out an not so normal gasp for air

Alex needed "I need an air fibular and blankets!!!"

[michelleleewise]

Secrets.....

Pairing: Loki x plus-size reader

Warnings: self esteem issues, self deprecating behavior, mild swearing.

Summary: Mel gets ready for her date with Bucky, and you spend a much needed day at home.

Part 5-

====================================

"Come out, come out wherever you are." You called out, stalking through the living room. Your heard giggles coming from behind the curtains. "Hey, what are you guys doing?" Your hear Mel ask. "Well see, there's this tiny human running around and I intend to catch her and keep her forever." You smiled hearing her giggle. "Oh, those tiny humans are so sneaky, maybe you should lay a trap....cookies perhaps." She said smirking "cookies! Where!!" Emma yelled bolting into the kitchen. You leaned down snatching her up "Ha! I've got you now! You shall never escape." You bellowed tickling her sides.

You held her smiling at her "mommy, I love you but where are the cookies?" She asked sternly. "Ok ok here." You handed her a cookie as she kissed your cheek. "Ah, she loves cookies more then me." You feigned hurt. "Only cause you made them." Mel smiled nudging you. "Hey Mel, can I ask you something?" You asked sitting at the table. "Sure, what's up?" She asked grabbing her purse. "You didn't tell Bucky Emma was mine did you?" You asked looking at her. "No, why?" She looked at you. "Because I don't need him feeling sorry for me. The poor girl alone with a kid who will never find love.." you started "You will too, you just haven't found him yet." She said sternly. "Well whoever he is better be blind. Ouch!" You said as Mel punched your arm "what was that for?" You asked holding your arm "I won't stand here and listen to you put yourself down. You are lovely, end of story." She said sternly. "If I disagree will you smack me again?" You asked as she lifted her arm "ok, ok I'm sorry." You said walking to the living room.

You heard a car horn outside "thats Bucky. I'll see you later." She winked. "Have fun!" You yelled as she ran outside. "Well. It's you and me angel, what do you want to do?" You asked Emma. "Can we watch a movie?" She asked. "Absolutely! What would you like?" You asked. After about ten minutes and going through every movie you owned, she decided on the princess and the frog. You made popcorn and joined her on the couch. Halfway through you looked down seeing her asleep. You smiled, brushing the hair from her face as you picked her up and took her to her room. Tucking her in, you kissed her head. "Mommy loves you angel." You whispered, pushing her hair back. You got up and headed back to the living room.

You checked your phone for the hundredth time, hoping you'd missed a call......his call. But it never came. You sat on the couch and sighed "I should have known that was too good to be true." You said to yourself. You decided to put on a different movie, something scary to take your mind off of everything. You turned off the lights and settled in with your popcorn. "Run!....no the other way! You idiot!" You yelled at the TV. Right as you knew the killer was going to pop out your phone went off "aahh mother of..." you yelled throwing your bowl. You grabbed your chest, trying to catch your breath, picking up your phone to see who it was

"Oh my God, Loki is texting me.....me!" You yelled to yourself. Putting your hand over your mouth before you woke Emma. Your hand shook a little in excitement as you waited for him to respond, adding his number into your contacts as you waited. You couldn't help the smile that spread across your face as your phone dinged again....

You sat your phone down, sure you were grinning like a crazy person. The man was beautiful, and he asked you to coffee. You couldn't help the little eek of excitement that came out as your legs bounced up and down. You turned the TV off, locking the door before heading to your room. Your thoughts slowly turned from excited to anxious. What if he was just being nice? What if he just wants to be friends? You pulled your pajamas on, making it to your mirror, as you always do, looking yourself up and down. You sighed, pulling your shirt down "yeah, he probably just wants to be friends." You said to yourself. You climbed into bed, curling the blankets around you. You stared up at the ceiling, thinking. If he wanted to be friends you could do that. Maybe it would be better that way anyway, you sighed closing your eyes, dreaming of those green eyes and the smile to die for.....

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

@vbecker10 @lokisprettygirl22 @mcufan72 @midnights-ramblings @sonatabee @catalina712 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @kilikina34512 @delightfulheartdream @froggiecky @sinsandguilt @sweetberry47 @buttercupbestie @wtfislifeugh @asgardianprincess1050 @commanding-officer @lovingchoices14 @crystaldragonborne @juulle987 @xorpsbane @elenaysusneuras @yoongissidebitchh @daggers-and-mischief @lightupmyjass @plut0min @lulubelle814 @lucylaufeyson3 @howdidurhammergrowchris @d1a2n389 @lokiprompts @sititran @kats72 @awesomephilosophus

[writing-with-l]

Our Forgotten Devils: Chapter One

Hi darlings! So, in honour of reaching 100 followers earlier this week, I’ve decided to post the first draft of the opening chapter of Our Forgotten Devils! (Still very much a work in progress, but it’s a start!) 💛

Taglist: @corkythewriteblr @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @ashen-crest @thelaughingstag @imthefutureauthor @fiercely-raging-writer

(Text continues under the cut) 

I: The Knocking Unceasing

  It’s a little after midnight when I wake up. My awareness of myself and my surroundings returns slowly and, when it does, the first things I notice are the sore neck and the twisted spine, a consequence of falling asleep on my cheap sofa while watching some god-awful spy thriller earlier in the night. I rub my eyes with a clumsy fist and an involuntary groan of discomfort, dragging myself into a position that vaguely resembles sitting upright. 

 Reluctantly, I open my eyes fully, and I regret it a mere second later. In the corner across from me, the TV is still turned on, sending a harsh glaring light emanating through my living room which stings my tired eyes. The program has changed now, though: gone is the cliche crap from earlier. Instead, a newsreader wearing a crisp navy business suit and a fixed grim expression stares blankly straight into the camera, reading aloud from the prompts in front of her.

 “... a body, discovered this morning, which is the third murder in the city since last week. A police department spokesperson has confirmed this evening that, like the previous murders, the victim was found slit open from neck to navel. Local residents have been urged to avoid travelling alone late at-”

 I manage to dig the remote out from where it had been lost between the sofa cushions and punch the OFF button firmly.  No one in their right mind wants to listen to that shit when they’re alone in their apartment in the middle of the night, and I’m no exception. Too many real-life horror stories at midnight and my imagination will start to give eyes and limbs to the shadows that creep around the dim corners of my apartment. Already the darkness pressing in on me from all sides has begun to make me a little uneasy, and I see no good reason to make that worse. Something nags in the back of my mind - that odd feeling you get when you think you should remember something but you don’t - but I dismiss it. I’ll only overthink it, like I usually do, and by that point any hope of sleep will be nothing more than an unachievable fantasy. 

 There’s silence now. I push myself up off the sofa, fully intending to head for the comfort of my bed, when something stops me in my tracks. The silence is suddenly shattered by a sharp knock on my front door. It startles me enough that I jump backwards almost on instinct, and the back of my shin collides with the pointed corner of the glass coffee table, causing me to swear under my breath. 

 The knocking continues - harsh, forceful, almost desperate knocking - and I make my way to the door, stumbling over my own abandoned shoes. I have no idea who the hell could possibly be looking for me in the middle of the night, but there’s something about the urgency of that insistent knocking that makes me rush to answer it. It takes me a few minutes of fumbling to get the bolt and chain undone and, as I do, my mind races. I’m not sure who I expect to see on the other side of the door, and my brain is working overtime trying to figure it out in the next ten seconds - family? a friend? the police, even? - but none of the answers I can come up with ease the tug of anxiety in my stomach. In my experience, if something is serious enough to warrant an interruption in the middle of the night, chances are it’s not going to be good news. 

 In a decisive attempt at silencing my anxiety, I yank open the door.

 A figure stands in my doorway. It takes me a minute, as my eyes sweep over their profile, but when the realisation finally hits me, it does so with enough force to knock the air from my lungs. 

 “Alex…” It comes out like a gasp, faint and surprised.

 I don’t know what it was that I expected to see when I opened that door, but it sure as hell wasn’t Alexander Michaelis. I haven’t heard a thing from him in just over five years; ever since he left town in a hurry one cold September morning, since all my texts and calls were met first with single sentences, then with one-word answers, and then finally with radio silence. Standing in front of me now, he looks the same as he did back then - a little older, of course, but otherwise identical - and the sight causes my heart to miss a beat. 

 Alex shifts nervously, his eyes downcast, studiously examining the threadbare hallway carpet. “I- I didn’t know where else to go.” His voice sounds shaky, almost frightened, and it makes my anxiety return with force. “Can I- can I come in?”

 “Yeah,” I say automatically. For a moment, that’s all I can say, my mind somewhat overwhelmed with shock and confusion. “Yeah, of course. What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

 Alex doesn’t answer me right away. He hesitates in the hallway for a moment, gaze flickering between the floor and my face like he can’t believe I’m really standing in front of him. I imagine my face must look something similar. He takes a step across the threshold and into my apartment, but he doesn’t get much further than that before he all but collapses into me. My arms move to hold him almost of their own accord: it’s like a reflex, something I couldn’t control even if I wanted to. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that, but it doesn’t matter, I’ve got more important things to think about right now. Like the fact that Alex isn’t wearing any kind of jacket, and I realise that he’s cold as ice and shaking like a leaf.

 “Christ, you’re freezing!” I mutter, even though I don’t suppose that information will be a surprise to him. 

 I lead him into my apartment and across to the kitchen, and he follows easily but unsteadily, as if he’s uncertain on his feet. I sit him down at the kitchen table, in the chair closest to the radiator which I reach down and turn up to full. Alex stares blankly in front of him, running his forefinger repetitively across one of the grooves in the wooden table. Shrugging my own jacket off, I drape it around his shoulders like some pathetic excuse for an emergency blanket. He pulls it tighter around himself and mumbles a quiet “thanks”, while I busy myself with switching the kettle on. 

Once it’s boiled, I fill two chipped mugs with steaming tea and sit down opposite him, pushing one of the mugs across the table towards him. Tea was always my nana’s solution to everything. Too cold? Tea. Can’t sleep? Tea. Flynn’s having a panic attack again? Tea. I suppose she rubbed off on me more than I thought. Alex takes the tea with one hand and offers me a small smile, though his eyes are still staring downwards and the repetitive movement of his other hand doesn’t stop. My own hands are shaking, almost imperceptibly though, and I don’t quite know why. 

 As Alex drinks his tea, I take the moment to look at him properly under the harsh flickering kitchen light, and I realise that I was wrong before: he doesn’t look the same. His light blond hair, once sleek and styled, looks like it hasn’t been washed in days, dishevelled in a way that seems to suggest countless hours of nervous hands combing through the platinum strands. His blue eyes, bright and sparkling in my memory, are now dull and tired, bloodshot and rimmed with red. He looks like he’s been through hell and, in spite of the years that have passed, it still makes something clench in my chest. 

 “Alex, what’s going on?” I ask again.

He drains the last of his tea and carefully sets the mug back down on the table, before lifting his head to meet my gaze. It’s the first time tonight he’s actually properly looked me in the eye. When he finally speaks, his voice is hollow.

 “Ana’s missing.”

[thisiswhatshefelt]

For Olivia

Summary: Line cook Johnny "Coco" Cruz has made many bad decisions in his life, but his biggest regret is not being a part of his children's lives. He reconciles with his teenage daughter, Letty, so he’s hopeful when he shows up on his four-year-old daughter’s doorstep. Shanice Hunter, a newly-appointed guardian, is determined to protect Olivia from anything— even if that means her own father. Story Warnings (overall): Other than some mild language and alcohol/drug use, this is some pretty fluffy stuff. For me, anyway. Multi-chapter. Pairing: Chef!Coco x Black!OC Words: ~1.3k

Chapter One They’ve never met. She’s never even seen a picture of him. But when Shanice opens her door and sees the tattooed man standing in her doorway, she immediately knows that he’s Johnny Cruz.

The process isn’t as long as everyone warns her it would be, but it is incredibly tedious. There are complicated forms to fill out and hearings to attend, but she forces herself to trust the process. She’s patient. And after three months, she officially becomes the legal guardian of the four-year-old girl standing beside her.

Their things are unpacked, yet Shanice keeps the flattened boxes stacked in the storage room on the deck. It’s been weeks since moving into this new apartment, and fear keeps her from tossing the boxes. She’s afraid some technicality will delay the process, or that her best friend, Mel, will change her mind about the whole thing.

But Shanice is awarded guardianship almost too easily, but she wraps her arms around Olivia tightly when it’s official. They hug this way every night after they kneel and send their prayers off with soft ‘amens.’

The embrace comforts Shanice more than it does the little girl whose body has lost way too much weight. Olivia’s much too young for all of life’s uncertainty. She’s already learned not to trust a promise, and her appetite wavers without something definitive. She pushes food around the plate at every meal as the not yets and the soons get old, sometimes forcing spoonsful of her dinner down for Shanice’s benefit.

Olivia’s small hand holds onto Shanice’s pinky and forefinger as she looks up at the man in the doorway. He stares back at her, shoulders suddenly heavy now with what Shanice will later learn is shame. He’s looking down at what has flourished in his absence.

Shanice sometimes tries to imagine his face, but he’s shapeless in her mind, and it’s hard to put a face to something without form. To catch smoke in her hand. Olivia has the same round, expressive brown eyes that give her away, and she has those same ears that are too big for her head.

Johnny’s ears are even more emphasized by his long hair that he tucks behind them. Tattoos peak out from the cuffs of his sleeves and the neck of his sweatshirt like weeds slipping through cracks in a wall.

He clears his throat before taking a half step forward. There are so many features that he and Olivia share, but his are masked in a furtive shadow even as he’s flooded with light from her apartment. Entirely too nondescript. He’s wearing dark jeans and an unmarked black hooded sweatshirt like he’s been trying to stop the darkness from clawing at his back.

Shanice shields Olivia, pulling her back and out of view when he inches forward.

“Sorry to come at you so late at night,” he says, tearing at the silence. “Uh, I’m Coco- I mean, I’m Johnny Cruz, Miss. Can we talk?”

“Go to your room, Olivia,” Shanice tells the girl, but it sounds as though she’s scolding her.

The curt tone is misdirected, meant for the recognizable stranger at the door. She looks behind her and watches as the little girl’s eyebrows weave together with confusion. She retreats to her new room with half her attention still focused on the door. Shanice gives a tight smile, attempting to reassure Olivia as the door pushes in but doesn’t completely shut.

“She’s beautiful,” the man lets fall from his mouth in a small yet untidy heap.

When the doorbell rings, Shanice thinks it’s the pizza she’d ordered for dinner that Wednesday. She still has the money in the pocket of her pajama pants, but she wished she’d brought the metal bat she keeps under her bed instead.

Johnny. She might have heard the name mentioned years ago, but the memory feels like a faded dream or a faint taste of déjà vu on her tongue.

“What do you want?” Shanice nearly pushes the words at him through her teeth as she speaks. She’s asking so much more with her question.

Are you going to take her away?

“You don’t gotta worry about me fuckin’ up your home or nothing,” he starts, clearing his throat more out of apprehension than necessity. He continues his researched speech, “I don’t wanna disturb nothing you got goin’ on here. I’m tryna make some amends in my life, and I’d be grateful if you would allow me to meet her.”

“How is meeting her not a disruption?”

He shakes in head, frustrated. “Naw, I meant…I’m not here to ask no custody or no bullshit like that.”

“You goddamn right, because I’ll kill you before I let that happen.” It’s intended mostly as a figure of speech, but she steps forward with one hand clenching the doorknob and the other clenching the money in her pocket. There isn’t anything figurative about the way she feels then as her hands tremor.

But Johnny doesn’t even seem surprised. This is something he must have expected from the list of imagined scenarios.

Out of the corner of her eye, Shanice sees the pizza delivery boy walking up the stairs with her food, and she suddenly realizes how the scene must look. She’s in a faded UCLA shirt and fuzzy pajama pants as her eyes are wide with every bit of contempt her body can muster. She relaxes her eyes, then her limbs follow as she finally remembers to breathe.

“Um, large pepperoni pizza?” the delivery boy tentatively puts forward the food, extending his lanky arms.

“Like I said,” Johnny begins. “I’m not tryna to inconvenience you or her, so I’m gonna go. If you wanna reach me…”

She watches as Johnny pulls a worn piece of paper from his pocket and slip it in the fold of the pizza box before turning and running down the steps of her place.

It takes a too-long, awkward moment to pass before Shanice remembers the delivery boy is still standing off to the side with containers of food in his scrawny hands. She apologizes as she slips him the money while simultaneously grabbing the boxes and she’s soon back inside the apartment. As Shanice puts the chain on the door, she has the strong urge to barricade it with the couch.

“Mushroom!” Shanice calls out as she washes her hands at the kitchen sink. “Pizza’s here!”

The door to Olivia’s room slowly opens and she looks around the living first before walking out of the room.

“C’mon, come wash your hands,” Shanice beckons from the sink.

Olivia joins her at the sink, pulling her step stool from the corner of the kitchen. She glances up at Shanice, squishing soap suds between her fingers.

“Who’s’at man?” Olivia blurts out.

There it is.

Shanice knows the inquiry must eventually come, but she doesn’t expect it this soon. Not before she has time to think of what to say.

“He’s just…” she shakes her hand, accidentally pumping more soap back on her hands to rinse for the second time. “He’s an old friend,” Shanice manages.

“How come you looked so mean at him?”

“Well, he’s mommy’s friend-”

“Oh,” Olivia’s eyebrows knit again, completely understanding. She’s seen a lot of Mel’s friends- old and new and temporary. “So…” Her face contorts with one eye scrunched as if she’s looking through a kaleidoscope. “…so he bringed a pizza?”

“No, Mush,” Shanice laughs at the conclusion Olivia draws. “I’m hungry, are you hungry?”

Olivia’s attention lands on the warm pizza now on their counter, but her favorite are the garlic rolls. Shanice is fearful that Olivia will go back to pushing her food around every time a meal is presented. Her cheeks are slowly beginning to fill, though. The childish chub is returning to her face as her appetite slowly begins to pick up. She’s less folded into herself, walking more like a child and less like a shadow.

They eat on the couch, watching A Goofy Movie while Shanice is the one who picks at her dinner tonight. Her stomach is in deep twists and doesn’t leave any space for anything else as she thinks of what’s to come from Johnny Cruz.

Next chapter: Two

[scribble-blog]

Soulmate AU part 10!!!!!

First • Previous • Here • Next

Guys. It’s been a week now since this started. I just wanted to say again, thank you to all the lovely folk who have liked, reblogged, followed, messaged, and replied. You keep me motivated and loving every word that I write, knowing that I’ll get to share it with you.

“We- ah, defeated! The three,” Marinette was saying to the police, and Damian stopped and listened, bewildered, as she played up her French accent, searching for words he was absolutely certain she knew. “And then we hid in the dark room, and I kept Mme. Isley quiet, as they looked for us. And then Red Hood came, and told us it was safe, and took Mme. Isley, and we came out to you.”

Gordon looked tired, but that did seem to be a Police Commissioner’s natural state. “Thank you, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Damian Wayne. Let’s get your statement, real quick, and then you can go.”

Damian cocked one brow. “We were in a back room, speaking, when Pamela stumbled in, injured. Marinette bound her wound while I called for help. We were found by some of Scarecrow’s lackeys, but we managed to subdue them before hiding, until we were given an all clear by Red Hood. He took Pam, and we came here.”

Gordon grinned lightly. “Succinct as always. I’ll let your dad know if we need anything else.”

“It is appreciated, Commissioner.” Damian inclined his head, and offered an arm back to Marinette. “We’ll be on our way.”

The walk to the hotel was silent. Damian guided her, and she seemed lost in her own head.

Until they reached the hotel. As they stepped through the doors, Marinette was torn from his arms by two blondes. He tensed, preparing to fight, until he realized that Marinette was reaching back for them.

“How dare you, Dupain-Cheng! Have you even checked your phone? Do you know how worried we’ve been?” The blonde girl cried out. Damian, grateful he knew French, sat back to observe. “The whole city’s been talking about Scarecrow attacking the gardens, and you were there-“

“You really scared us, Mari,” the boy echoed, holding her tight. It took Damian all off half a moment to recognize him from the pictures Jon had shown him as his friend’s soulmate. How interesting.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Marinette consoled them. “Look, see, I’m okay-“

“You’re covered in BLOOD,” the girl screeched.

“Not mine,” Marinette insisted, “I’m perfectly unharmed-“

“Who’s this?”

Jon’s soulmate was looking at him. He’d spoken the last words in English. Marinette turned back to look at him apologetically as the girl also cast her eyes his way.

“I’m Damian,” He intoned. “Though I’m certain you both already know that.”

“This is Chloé, and I’m Adrien,” Adrien grinned at him, looking as smug as the cat that caught the canary.

Chloé sniffed. “We’re important people, Adrien. Last names. We’re Chloé Bourgeois and Adrien Agreste, Damian.”

Marinette, for her part, looked exasperated and was turning pink. “Guys, please-“

“It’s important that he knows who he’s up against if he does anything,” Chloé steamrolled on over Marinette’s protestations. “Rich boy or not, Marinette’s got us in her corner. And I’m not above using my superpowers to get revenge.”

“Alright, Queen Bee,” Adrien rolled his eyes, and very suddenly Damian realized that the bossy, screechy girl hanging off of his soulmate was one of the elusive heroes that Tim had spoken about last night.

“Enough.” Marinette’s voice cut across them, and Damian turned back to her. She looked at Damian in return, assessing, almost waiting.

“I’d like to spend more time with you, if you aren’t too worn out by all the excitement,” he found himself offering.

And he was rewarded by her bright smile. “I’d like that, too. Adrien, Chloé, I’m going to change, and you aren’t allowed to be your usual brat selves until I get back. Play nice.”

She walked away, and Damian was left staring after her. He’d found himself in turns very wary, very interested, and very awestruck by Marinette, and it was honestly something like how he thought a spinning top might feel, constantly unsure of how he would land.

Very disconcerting.

“She’s always like this,” Adrien advised, still grinning smugly as he clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll just have to learn to live with it.”

“Hmph,” Chloé moved so that she was leaning on Damian. He fought the urge to shove both her and Adrien away, possibly with some actual force. At this point not only was it in his best interest to play nice with Marinette’s friends, but he was also entirely sure they were doing this to mess with him. “One would hope that a soulmate wouldn’t just learn to live with something, but rather enjoy these things about their soulmate.”

“You can’t stand that Kagami will drink her coffee after it cools,” Adrien shot back. “There are things that you can dislike about your soulmate.”

“Not for Marinette.”

The tone of their conversation had become dangerously serious, and both blondes were still practically hanging off either side of him, conversing around him as if he were a particularly in the way wall. They were still in the lobby of the hotel, though he appreciated that their voices stayed low despite their- enthusiasm.

Damian stayed silent.

“No,” Adrien agreed slowly. “Not for Marinette. What say you, Damian?”

“I am not entirely certain what I would be agreeing to, honestly.” Damian wasn’t sure which of them he was supposed to be looking at, but they were both doing their best to stare straight into him. “I am also mostly certain that Marinette would consider this as you being your usual brat selves, as she put it.”

“Hmm,” Chloé squinted at him. “Rich boy’s got some bark. What about bite?”

“Rich boy kept Mari safe during a villain attack,” Adrien pointed out. “So he’s not useless. Also, rich boy? I’m rich. You’re rich. Was it supposed to be an insult?”

“Oh, Adrikins,” Chloé pouted. “Don’t play dumb. We’re rich, but neither of us is anywhere near Wayne Rich.”

“This is utterly ridiculous.” Damian finally pulled himself out of their grasps, though he notices neither of them so much as wobbles as they deal with the sudden imbalance. “If you two will not reign in whatever inane urges you have to bother me, I will simply wait for Marinette somewhere else.”

Adrien stood up again, shaking imaginary dust off of himself. “Alright, alright. Cool it, Chloé, he wasn’t a pushover or too rude towards us.”

Chloé was still glaring towards him. “Well. He’s passed the first test, at least. The jury is still out, especially since he hasn’t met Kagami or Luka, yet.”

“If you could stop threatening him, for two seconds!” Marinette dashed back over, and Damian had to keep his jaw from dropping. She’d been stunningly pretty in an innocent way, in the floral dress before, but now she was-

Well. She was gorgeous.

Her hair was down, damp but loosely wavy. She’d put on dark jeans and a pink top that shimmered with each movement, a scooped neckline that only just concealed where he now knew his name sat curled over her shoulder. She had a dark lump over one arm, and he assumed it would be a light jacket until she shook it out and revealed a triangular black shawl. In a second she had draped it artfully over her shoulders, completing the look.

“Disgustingly pretty as always,” Chloé sneered, but Damian caught the way the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile.

“So, Damian, what do you suggest we do?” Marinette ignored her friends, securing his arm again, and he let her. It felt normal now, the way the low buzz settled into his bones with the contact.

He gave Chloé and Adrien one last look before following her lead and ignoring them, turning her towards the door. “I intended to take you to lunch, if you would allow me. After your first official villain attack, I would like to show you some of the better aspects of Gotham.”

She gave him the same bright smile, and he felt like he was finally starting to understand why all it took was looking at Kori for Dick to start grinning sappily. He smiled back. His entire reputation as being haughty, angry and stoic was going to fall to shambles the moment anyone ever saw her with him. He resolved himself to being made fun of by his entire family for weeks, if not months.

TAGLIST:

@the-fusionist @rebecarojas07 @lowandco @kotaleartzu @resignedcatservant @alenee13 @mystery-5-5 @ladybug-182 @actual-disaster-human @loysydark @rumbelle18 @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @athena452 @mochegato @ash-amg @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @thestressmademedoit @sassakitty @doriebell @toodaloo-kangaroo @myazael @theatreandcomicfreak @mer-mel @dahjokester @northernbluetongue @abrx2002 @area51qt @jessigurl-design @renscorpio @cici-schnee @multplelifes @redscarlet95 @razzledazzle247 @rosep16 @emotionalsupportginger @kceedraws @tired-butterfly @kuroko26 @catthhay @moonystars14 @shamefullove @shreky-boi @imanerddealwith @chaosace @captainmac6 @purple-people-eaters-productions @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-pale-blonde-person @bigpicklebananatree

[grigori77]

2020 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 2)

20.  ONWARD – Disney and Pixar’s best digitally animated family feature of 2020 (beating the admittedly impressive Soul to the punch) clearly has a love of fantasy roleplay games like Dungeons & Dragons, its quirky modern-day AU take populated by fantastical races and creatures seemingly tailor-made for the geek crowd … needless to say, me and many of my friends absolutely loved it.  That doesn’t mean that the classic Disney ideals of love, family and believing in yourself have been side-lined in favour of fan-service – this is as heartfelt, affecting and tearful as their previous standouts, albeit with plenty of literal magic added to the metaphorical kind.  The central premise is a clever one – once upon a time, magic was commonplace, but over the years technology came along to make life easier, so that in the present day the various races (elves, centaurs, fauns, pixies, goblins and trolls among others) get along fine without it. Then timid elf Ian Lightfoot (Tom Holland) receives a wizard’s staff for his sixteenth birthday, a bequeathed gift from his father, who died before he was born, with instructions for a spell that could bring him back to life for one whole day.  Encouraged by his brash, over-confident wannabe adventurer elder brother Barley (Chris Pratt), Ian tries it out, only for the spell to backfire, leaving them with the animated bottom half of their father and just 24 hours to find a means to restore the rest of him before time runs out.  Cue an “epic quest” … needless to say, this is another top-notch offering from the original masters of the craft, a fun, affecting and thoroughly infectious family-friendly romp with a winning sense of humour and inspired, flawless world-building.  Holland and Pratt are both fantastic, their instantly believable, ill-at-ease little/big brother chemistry effortlessly driving the story through its ingenious paces, and the ensuing emotional fireworks are hilarious and heart-breaking in equal measure, while there’s typically excellent support from Julia Louis-Dreyfus (Elaine from Seinfeld) as Ian and Barley’s put-upon but supportive mum, Laurel, Octavia Spencer as once-mighty adventurer-turned-restaurateur “Corey” the Manticore and Mel Rodriguez (Getting On, The Last Man On Earth) as overbearing centaur cop (and Laurel’s new boyfriend) Colt Bronco.  The film marks the sophomore feature gig for Dan Scanlon, who debuted with 2013’s sequel Monsters University, and while that was enjoyable enough I ultimately found it non-essential – no such verdict can be levelled against THIS film, the writer-director delivering magnificently in all categories, while the animation team have outdone themselves in every scene, from the exquisite environments and character/creature designs to some fantastic (and frequently delightfully bonkers) set-pieces, while there’s a veritable riot of brilliant RPG in-jokes to delight geekier viewers (gelatinous cube! XD).  Massive, unadulterated fun, frequently hilarious and absolutely BURSTING with Disney’s trademark heart, this was ALMOST my animated feature of the year.  More on that later …

19.  THE GENTLEMEN – Guy Ritchie’s been having a rough time with his last few movies (The Man From UNCLE didn’t do too bad but it wasn’t exactly a hit and was largely overlooked or simply ignored, while intended franchise-starter King Arthur: Legend of the Sword was largely derided and suffered badly on release, dying a quick death financially – it’s a shame on both counts, because I really liked them), so it’s nice to see him having some proper success with his latest, even if he has basically reverted to type to do it.  Still, when his newest London gangster flick is THIS GOOD it seems churlish to quibble – this really is what he does best, bringing together a collection of colourful geezers and shaking up their status quo, then standing back and letting us enjoy the bloody, expletive-riddled results. This particularly motley crew is another winning selection, led by Matthew McConaughey as ruthlessly successful cannabis baron Mickey Pearson, who’s looking to retire from the game by selling off his massive and highly lucrative enterprise for a most tidy sum (some $400,000,000 to be precise) to up-and-coming fellow American ex-pat Matthew Berger (Succession’s Jeremy Strong, oozing sleazy charm), only for local Chinese triad Dry Eye (Crazy Rich Asians’ Henry Golding, chewing the scenery with enthusiasm) to start throwing spanners into the works with the intention of nabbing the deal for himself for a significant discount.  Needless to say Mickey’s not about to let that happen … McConaughey is ON FIRE here, the best he’s been since Dallas Buyers Club in my opinion, clearly having great fun sinking his teeth into this rich character and Ritchie’s typically sparkling, razor-witted dialogue, and he’s ably supported by a quality ensemble cast, particularly co-star Charlie Hunnam as Mickey’s ice-cold, steel-nerved right-hand-man Raymond Smith, Downton Abbey’s Michelle Dockery as his classy, strong-willed wife Rosalind, Colin Farrell as a wise-cracking, quietly exasperated MMA trainer and small-time hood simply known as the Coach (who gets many of the film’s best lines), and, most notably, Hugh Grant as the film’s nominal narrator, thoroughly morally bankrupt private investigator Fletcher, who consistently steals the film.  This is Guy Ritchie at his very best – a twisty rug-puller of a plot that constantly leaves you guessing, brilliantly observed and richly drawn characters you can’t help loving in spite of the fact there’s not a single hero among them, a deliciously unapologetic, politically incorrect sense of humour and a killer soundtrack.  Getting the cinematic year off to a phenomenal start, it’s EASILY Ritchie’s best film since Sherlock Holmes, and a strong call-back to the heady days of Snatch (STILL my favourite) and Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels.  Here’s hoping he’s on a roll again, eh?

18.  SPONTANEOUS – one of the year’s biggest under-the-radar surprise hits for me was one which I actually might not have caught if things had been a little more normal and ordered.  Thankfully with all the lockdown and cinematic shutdown bollocks going on, this fantastically subversive and deeply satirical indie teen comedy horror came along at the perfect time, and I completely flipped out over it.  Now those who know me know I don’t tend to gravitate towards teen cinema, but like all those other exceptions I’ve loved over the years, this one had a brilliantly compulsive hook I just couldn’t turn down – small-town high-schooler Mara (Knives Out and Netflix’ Cursed’s Katherine Langford) is your typical cool outsider kid, smart, snarky and just putting up with the scene until she can graduate and get as far away as possible … until one day in her senior year one of her classmates just inexplicably explodes. Like her peers, she’s shocked and she mourns, then starts to move on … until it happens again.  As the death toll among the senior class begins to mount, it becomes clear something weird is going on, but Mara has other things on her mind because the crisis has, for her, had an unexpected benefit – without it she wouldn’t have fallen in love with like-minded oddball new kid Dylan (Lean On Pete and Words On Bathroom Walls’ Charlie Plummer). The future’s looking bright, but only if they can both live to see it … this is a wickedly intelligent film, powered by a skilfully executed script and a wonderfully likeable young cast who consistently steer their characters around the potential cliched pitfalls of this kind of cinema, while debuting writer-director Brian Duffield (already a rising star thanks to scripts for Underwater, The Babysitter and blacklist darling Jane Got a Gun among others) show he’s got as much talent and flair for crafting truly inspired cinema as he has for thinking it up in the first place, delivering some impressively offbeat set-pieces and several neat twists you frequently don’t see coming ahead of time.  Langford and Plummer as a sassy, spicy pair who are easy to root for without ever getting cloying or sweet, while there’s glowing support from the likes of Hayley Law (Rioverdale, Altered Carbon, The New Romantic) as Mara’s best friend Tess, Piper Perabo and Transparent’s Rob Huebel as her increasingly concerned parents, and Insecure’s Yvonne Orji as Agent Rosetti, the beleaguered government employee sent to spearhead the investigation into exactly what’s happening to these kids.  Quirky, offbeat and endlessly inventive, this is one of those interesting instances where I’m glad they pushed the horror elements into the background so we could concentrate on the comedy, but more importantly these wonderfully well-realised and vital characters – there are some skilfully executed shocks, but far more deep belly laughs, and there’s bucketloads of heart to eclipse the gore.  Another winning debut from a talent I intend to watch with great interest in the future.

17.  HAMILTON – arriving just as Black Lives Matter reached fever-pitch levels, this feature presentation of the runaway Broadway musical smash-hit could not have been better timed. Shot over three nights during the show’s 2016 run with the original cast and cut together with specially created “setup shots”, it’s an immersive experience that at once puts you right in amongst the audience (at times almost a character themselves, never seen but DEFINITELY heard) but also lets you experience the action up close.  And what action – it’s an incredible show, a thoroughly fascinating piece of work that reads like something very staid and proper on paper (an all-encompassing biographical account of the life and times of American Founding Father Alexander Hamilton) but, in execution, becomes something very different and EXTREMELY vital.  The execution certainly couldn’t be further from the usual period biopic fare this kind of historical subject matter usually gets (although in the face of recent high quality revisionist takes like Marie Antoinette, The Great and Tesla it’s not SO surprising), while the cast is not at all what you’d expect – with very few notable exceptions the cast is almost entirely people of colour, despite the fact that the real life individuals they’re playing were all very white indeed.  Every single one of them is also an absolute revelation – the show’s writer-composer Lin-Manuel Miranda (already riding high on the success of In the Heights) carries the central role of Hamilton with effortless charm and raw star power, Leslie Odom Jr. (Smash, Murder On the Orient Express) is duplicitously complex as his constant nemesis Aaron Burr, Christopher Jackson (In the Heights, Moana, Bull) oozes integrity and nobility as his mentor and friend George Washington, Phillipa Soo is sweet and classy as his wife Eliza while Renée Elise Goldsberry (The Immortal Life of Henrietta Jacks, Altered Carbon) is fiery and statuesque as her sister Angelica Schuyler (the one who got away), and Jonathan Groff (Mindhunter) consistently steals every scene he’s in as fiendish yet childish fan favourite King George III, but the show (and the film) ultimately belongs to veritable powerhouse Daveed Diggs (Blindspotting, The Good Lord Bird) in a spectacular duel role, starting subtly but gaining scene-stealing momentum as French Revolutionary Gilbert du Motier, the Marquis de Lafayette, before EXPLODING onto the stage in the second half as indomitable third American President Thomas Jefferson.  Not having seen the stage show, I was taken completely by surprise by this, revelling in its revisionist genius and offbeat, quirky hip-hop charm, spellbound by the skilful ease with which is takes the sometimes quite dull historical fact and skews it into something consistently entertaining and absorbing, transported by the catchy earworm musical numbers and thoroughly tickled by the delightfully cheeky sense of humour strung throughout (at least when I wasn’t having my heart broken by moments of raw dramatic power). Altogether it’s a pretty unique cinematic experience I wish I could have actually gotten to see on the big screen, and one I’ve consistently recommended to all my friends, even the ones who don’t usually like musicals.  As far as I’m concerned it doesn’t need a proper Les Misérables style screen adaptation – this is about as perfect a presentation as the show could possibly hope for.

16.  SPUTNIK – summer’s horror highlight (despite SERIOUSLY tough competition) was a guaranteed sleeper hit that I almost missed entirely, stumbling across the trailer one day on YouTube and getting bowled over by its potential, prompting me to hunt it down by any means necessary.  The feature debut of Russian director Egor Abramenko, this first contact sci-fi chiller is about as far from E.T. as it’s possible to get, sharing some of the same DNA as Carpenter’s The Thing but proudly carving its own path with consummate skill and definitely signalling great things to come from its brand new helmer and relative unknown screenwriters Oleg Malovichko and Andrei Zolotarev.  Oksana Akinshina (probably best known in the West for her powerful climactic cameo in The Bourne Supremacy) is the beating heart of the film as neurophysiologist Tatyana Yuryevna Klimova, brought in to aid in the investigation in the Russian wilderness circa 1983 after an orbital research mission goes horribly wrong.  One of the cosmonauts dies horribly, while the other, Konstantin (The Duelist’s Pyotr Fyodorov) seems unharmed, but it quickly becomes clear that he’s now the host for something decidedly extraterrestrial and potentially terrifying, and as Tatyana becomes more deeply embroiled in her assignment she comes to realise that her superiors, particularly mysterious Red Army project leader Colonel Semiradov (The PyraMMMid’s Fyodor Bondarchuk), have far more insidious plans for Konstantin and his new “friend” than she could ever imagine. This is about as dark, intense and nightmarish as this particular sub-genre gets, a magnificently icky body horror that slowly builds its tension as we’re gradually exposed to the various truths and the awful gravity of the situation slowly reveals itself, punctuated by skilfully executed shocks and some particularly horrifying moments when the evils inflicted by the humans in charge prove far worse than anything the alien can do, while the ridiculously talented writers have a field day pulling the rug out from under us again and again, never going for the obvious twist and keeping us guessing right to the devastating ending, while the beautifully crafted digital creature effects are nothing short of astonishing and thoroughly creepy.  Akinshina dominates the film with her unbridled grace, vulnerability and integrity, the relationship that develops between Tatyana and Konstantin (Fyodorov delivering a beautifully understated turn belying deep inner turmoil) feeling realistically earned as it goes from tentatively wary to tragically bittersweet, while Bondarchuk invests the Colonel with a nuanced air of tarnished authority and restrained brutality that made him one of my top screen villains for the year.  One of 2020’s great sleeper hits, I can’t speak of this film highly enough – it’s a genuine revelation, an instant classic for whom I’ll sing its praises for years to come, and I wish enormous future success to all the creative talents involved.

15.  THE INVISIBLE MAN – looks like third time’s a charm for Leigh Whannell, writer-director of my ALMOST horror movie of the year (more on that later) – while he’s had immense success as a horror writer over the years (co-creator of both the Saw and Insidious franchises), as a director his first two features haven’t exactly set the world alight, with debut Insidious: Chapter III garnering similar takes to the rest of the series but ultimately turning out to be a bit of a damp squib quality-wise, while his second feature Upgrade was a stone-cold masterpiece that was (rightly) EXTREMELY well received critically, but ultimately snuck in under the radar and has remained a stubbornly hidden gem since. No such problems with his third feature, though – his latest collaboration with producer Jason Blum and the insanely lucrative Blumhouse Pictures has proven a massive hit both financially AND with reviewers, and deservedly so.  Having given up on trying to create a shared cinematic universe inhabited by their classic monsters, Universal resolved to concentrate on standalones to showcase their elite properties, and their first try is a rousing success, Whannell bringing HG Wells’ dark and devious human monster smack into the 21st Century as only he can.  The result is a surprisingly subtle piece of work, much more a lethally precise exercise in cinematic sleight of hand and extraordinary acting than flashy visual effects, strictly adhering to the Blumhouse credo of maximum returns for minimum bucks as the story is stripped down to its bare essentials and allowed to play out without any unnecessary weight.  The Handmaid’s Tale’s Elizabeth Moss once again confirms what a masterful actress she is as she brings all her performing weapons to bear in the role of Cecelia “Cee” Kass, the cloistered wife of affluent but monstrously abusive optics pioneer Aidan Griffin (Netflix’ The Haunting of Hill House’s Oliver Jackson-Cohen), who escapes his clutches in the furiously tense opening sequence and goes to ground with the help of her closest childhood friend, San Francisco cop James Lanier (Leverage’s Aldis Hodge) and his teenage daughter Sydney (A Wrinkle in Time’s Storm Reid).  Two weeks later, Aidan commits suicide, leaving Cee with a fortune to start her life over (with the proviso that she’s never ruled mentally incompetent), but as she tries to find her way in the world again little things start going wrong for her, and she begins to question if there might be something insidious going on.  As her nerves start to unravel, she begins to suspect that Aidan is still alive, still very much in her life, fiendishly toying with her and her friends, but no-one can see him.  Whannell plays her paranoia up for all it’s worth, skilfully teasing out the scares so that, just like her friends, we begin to wonder if it might all be in her head after all, before a spectacular mid-movie reveal throws the switch into high gear and the true threat becomes clear.  The lion’s share of the film’s immense success must of course go to Moss – her performance is BEYOND a revelation, a blistering career best that totally powers the whole enterprise, and it goes without saying that she’s the best thing in this.  Even so, she has sterling support from Hodge and Reid, as well as Love Child’s Harriet Dyer as Cee’s estranged big sister Emily and Wonderland’s Michael Dorman as Adrian’s slimy, spineless lawyer brother Tom, and, while he doesn’t have much actual (ahem) “screen time”, Jackson-Cohen delivers a fantastically icy, subtly malevolent turn which casts a large “shadow” over the film.  This is one of my very favourite Blumhouse films, a pitch-perfect psychological chiller that keeps the tension cranked up unbearably tight and never lets go, Whannell once again displaying uncanny skill with expert jump-scares, knuckle-whitening chills and a truly astounding standout set-piece that easily goes down as one of the top action sequences of 2020. Undoubtedly the best version of Wells’ story to date, this goes a long way in repairing the damage of Universal’s abortive “Dark Universe” efforts, as well as showcasing a filmmaking master at the very height of his talents.

14.  EXTRACTION – the Coronavirus certainly has threw a massive spanner in the works of the year’s cinematic calendar – among many other casualties to the blockbuster shunt, the latest (and most long-awaited) MCU movie, Black Widow, should have opened to further record-breaking box office success at the end of spring, but instead the theatres were all closed and virtually all the heavyweights were pushed back or shelved indefinitely.  Thank God, then, for the streaming services, particularly Hulu, Amazon and Netflix, the latter of which provided a perfect movie for us to see through the key transition into the summer blockbuster season, an explosively flashy big budget action thriller ushered in by MCU alumni the Russo Brothers (who produced and co-wrote this adaptation of Ciudad, a graphic novel that Joe Russo co-created with Ande Parks and Fernando Leon Gonzalez) and barely able to contain the sheer star-power wattage of its lead, Thor himself.  Chris Hemsworth plays Tyler Rake, a former Australian SAS operative who hires out his services to an extraction operation under the command of mercenary Nik Khan (The Patience Stone’s Golshifteh Farahani), brought in to liberate Ovi Mahajan (Rudhraksh Jaiswal in his first major role), the pre-teen son of incarcerated Indian crime lord Ovi Sr. (Pankaj Tripathi), who has been abducted by Bangladeshi rival Amir Asif (Priyanshu Painyuli).  The rescue itself goes perfectly, but when the time comes for the hand-off the team is double-crossed and Tyler is left stranded in the middle of Dhaka with no choice but to keep Ovi alive as every corrupt cop and street gang in the city closes in around them.  This is the feature debut of Sam Hargrave, the latest stuntman to try his hand at directing, so he certainly knows his way around an action set-piece, and the result is a thoroughly breathless adrenaline rush of a film, bursting at the seams with spectacular fights, gun battles and car chases, dominated by a stunning sustained sequence that plays out in one long shot, guaranteed to leave jaws lying on the floor.  Not that there should be any surprise – Hargrave cut his teeth as a stunt coordinator for the Russos on Captain America: Civil War and their Avengers films.  That said, he displays strong talent for the quieter disciplines of filmmaking too, delivering quality character development and drawing out consistently noteworthy performances from his cast.  Of course, Hemsworth can do the action stuff in his sleep, but there’s a lot more to Tyler than just his muscle, the MCU veteran investing him with real wounded vulnerability and a tragic fatalism which colours every scene, while Jaiswal is exceptional throughout, showing plenty of promise for the future, and there’s strong support from Farahani and Painyuli, as well as Stranger Things’ David Harbour as world-weary retired merc Gaspard, and a particularly impressive, muscular turn from Randeep Hooda (Once Upon a Time in Mumbai) as Saju, a former Para and Ovi’s bodyguard, who’s determined to take possession of the boy himself, even if he has to go through Tyler to get him.  This is action cinema that really deserves to be seen on the big screen – I watched it twice in a week and would happily have paid for two trips to the cinema for it if I could have.  As we looked down the barrel of a summer season largely devoid of blockbuster fare, I couldn’t recommend this enough.  Thank the gods for Netflix …

13.  THE TRIAL OF THE CHICAGO 7 – although it’s definitely a film that really benefitted enormously from releasing on Netflix during the various lockdowns, this was one of the blessed few I actually got to see during one of the UK’s frustratingly rare lulls when cinemas were actually OPEN.  Rather perversely it therefore became one of my favourite cinematic experiences of 2020, but then I’m just as much a fan of well-made cerebral films as I am of the big, immersive blockbuster EXPERIENCES, so this probably still would have been a standout in a normal year. Certainly if this was a purely CRITICAL list for the year this probably would have placed high in the Top Ten … Aaron Sorkin is a writer whose work I have ardently admired ever since he went from esteemed playwright to in-demand talent for both the big screen AND the small with A Few Good Men, and TTOTC7 is just another in a long line of consistently impressive, flawlessly written works rife with addictive quickfire dialogue, beautifully observed characters and rewardingly propulsive narrative storytelling (therefore resting comfortably amongst the well-respected likes of The West Wing, Charlie Wilson’s War, Moneyball and The Social Network).  It also marks his second feature as a director (after fascinating and incendiary debut Molly’s Game), and once again he’s gone for true story over fiction, tackling the still controversial subject of the infamous 1968 trial of the “ringleaders” of the infamous riots which marred Chicago’s Diplomatic National Convention five months earlier, in which thousands of hippies and college students protesting the Vietnam War clashed with police.  Spurred on by the newly-instated Presidential Administration of Richard Nixon to make some examples, hungry up-and-coming prosecutor Richard Schultz (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is confident in his case, while the Seven – who include respected and astute student activist Tom Hayden (Eddie Redmayne) and confrontational counterculture firebrands Abbie Hoffman (Sacha Baron Cohen) and Jerry Rubin (Succession’s Jeremy Strong) – are the clear underdogs.  They’re a divided bunch (particularly Hayden and Hoffman, who never mince their words about what little regard they hold for each other), and they’re up against the combined might of the U.S. Government, while all they have on their side is pro-bono lawyer and civil rights activist William Kunstler (Mark Rylance), who’s sharp, driven and thoroughly committed to the cause but clearly massively outmatched … not to mention the fact that the judge presiding over the case is Julius Hoffman (Frank Langella), a fierce and uncompromising conservative who’s clearly 100% on the Administration’s side, and who might in fact be stark raving mad (he also frequently goes to great lengths to make it clear to all concerned that he is NOT related to Abbie).  Much as we’ve come to expect from Sorkin, this is cinema of grand ideals and strong characters, not big spectacle and hard action, and all the better for it – he’s proved time and again that he’s one of the very best creative minds in Hollywood when it comes to intelligent, thought-provoking and engrossing thinking-man’s entertainment, and this is pure par for the course, keeping us glued to the screen from the skilfully-executed whirlwind introductory montage to the powerfully cathartic climax, and every varied and brilliant scene in-between.  This is heady stuff, focusing on what’s still an extremely thorny issue made all the more urgently relevant and timely given what was (and still is) going on in American politics at the time, and everyone involved here was clearly fully committed to making the film as palpable, powerful and resonant as possible for the viewer, no matter their nationality or political inclination.  Also typical for a Sorkin film, the cast are exceptional, everyone clearly having the wildest time getting their teeth into their finely-drawn characters and that magnificent dialogue – Redmayne and Baron Cohen are compellingly complimentary intellectual antagonists given their radically different approaches and their roles’ polar opposite energies, while Rylance delivers another pitch-perfect, simply ASTOUNDING performance that once again marks him as one of the very best actors of his generation, and there are particularly meaty turns from Strong, Langella, Aquaman’s Yahya Abdul-Mateen II (as besieged Black Panther Bobby Seale) and a potent late appearance from Michael Keaton that sear themselves into the memory long after viewing. Altogether then, this is a phenomenal film which deserves to be seen no matter the format, a thought-provoking and undeniably IMPORTANT masterwork from a master cinematic storyteller that says as much about the world we live in now as the decidedly turbulent times it portrays …

12.  GREYHOUND – when the cinemas closed back in March, the fate of many of the major summer blockbusters we’d been looking forward to was thrown into terrible doubt. Some were pushed back to more amenable dates in the autumn or winter (which even then ultimately proved frustratingly ambitious), others knocked back a whole year to fill summer slots for 2021, but more than a few simply dropped off the radar entirely with the terrible words “postponed until further notice” stamped on them, and I lamented them all, this one in particular.  It hung in there longer than some, stubbornly holding onto its June release slot for as long as possible, but eventually it gave up the ghost too … but thanks to Apple TV+, not for long, ultimately releasing less than a month later than intended.  Thankfully the film itself was worth the fuss, a taut World War II suspense thriller that’s all killer, no filler – set during the infamous Battle of the Atlantic, it portrays the constant life-or-death struggle faced by the Allied warships assigned to escort the transport convoys as they crossed the ocean, defending their charges from German U-boats.  Adapted from C.S. Forester’s famous 1955 novel The Good Shepherd by Tom Hanks and directed by Aaron Schneider (Get Low), the narrative focuses on the crew of the escort leader, American destroyer USS Fletcher, codenamed “Greyhound”, and in particular its captain, Commander Ernest Krause (Hanks), a career sailor serving his first command.  As they cross “the Pit”, the most dangerous middle stretch of the journey where they spend days without air-cover, they find themselves shadowed by “the Wolf Pack”, a particularly cunning group of German submarines that begin to pick away at the convoy’s stragglers.  Faced with daunting odds, a dwindling supply of vital depth-charges and a ruthless, persistent enemy, Krause must make hard choices to bring his ships home safe … jumping into the thick of the action within the first ten minutes and maintaining its tension for the remainder of the trim 90-minute run, this is screen suspense par excellence, a sleek textbook example of how to craft a compelling big screen knuckle-whitener with zero fat and maximum reward, delivering a series of desperate naval scraps packed with hide-and-seek intensity, heart-in-mouth near-misses and fist-in-air cathartic payoffs by the bucket-load.  Hanks is subtly magnificent, the calm centre of the narrative storm as a supposed newcomer to this battle arena who could have been BORN for it, bringing to mind his similarly unflappable in Captain Phillips and certainly not suffering by comparison; by and large he’s the focus point, but other crew members make strong (if sometimes quite brief) impressions, particularly Stephen Graham as Krause’s reliably seasoned XO, Lt. Commander Charlie Cole, The Magnificent Seven’s Manuel Garcia-Rulfo and Just Mercy’s Rob Morgan, while Elisabeth Shue does a lot with a very small part in brief flashbacks as Krause’s fiancée Evelyn. Relentless, exhilarating and thoroughly unforgettable, this was one of the true action highlights of the summer, and one hell of a war flick.  I’m so glad it made the cut for the summer …

11.  PROJECT POWER – with Marvel and DC pushing their tent-pole titles back in the face of COVID, the usual superhero antics we’ve come to expect for the summer were pretty thin on the ground in 2020, leading us to find our geeky fan thrills elsewhere. Unfortunately, pickings were frustratingly slim – Korean comic book actioner Gundala was entertaining but workmanlike, while Thor AU Mortal was underwhelming despite strong direction from Troll Hunter’s André Øvredal, and The New Mutants just got shat on by the studio and its distributors and no mistake – thank the Gods, then, for Netflix, once again riding to the rescue with this enjoyably offbeat super-thriller, which takes an intriguing central premise and really runs with it.  New designer drug Power has hit the streets of New Orleans, able to give anyone who takes it a superpower for five minutes … the only problem is, until you try it, you don’t know what your own unique talent is – for some, it could mean five minutes of invisibility, or insane levels of super-strength, but other powers can be potentially lethal, the really unlucky buggers just blowing up on the spot.  Robin (The Hate U Give’s Dominique Fishback) is a teenage Power-pusher with dreams of becoming a rap star, dealing the pills so she can help her diabetic mum; Frank Shaver (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is one of her customers, a police detective who uses his power of near invulnerability to even the playing field when supercharged crims cause a disturbance.  Their lives are turned upside down when Art (Jamie Foxx) arrives in town – he’s a seriously badass ex-soldier determined to hunt down the source of Power by any means necessary, and he’s not above tearing the Big Easy apart to do it. This is a fun, gleefully infectious rollercoaster that doesn’t take itself too seriously, revelling in the anarchic potential of its premise and crafting some suitably OTT effects-driven chaos brought to pleasingly visceral fruition by its skilfully inventive director, Ariel Schulman (Catfish, Nerve, Viral), while Mattson Tomlin (the screenwriter of the DCEU’s oft-delayed, incendiary headline act The Batman) takes the story in some very interesting directions and poses fascinating questions about what Power’s TRULY capable of.  Gordon-Levitt and Fishback are both brilliant, the latter particularly impressing in what’s sure to be a major breakthrough role for her, and the friendship their characters share is pretty adorable, while Foxx really is a force to be reckoned with, pretty chill even when he’s in deep shit but fully capable of turning into a bona fide killing machine at the flip of a switch, and there’s strong support from Westworld’s Rodrigo Santoro as Biggie, Power’s delightfully oily kingpin, Courtney B. Vance as Frank’s by-the-book superior, Captain Crane, Amy Landecker as Gardner, the morally bankrupt CIA spook responsible for the drug’s production, and Machine Gun Kelly as Newt, a Power dealer whose pyrotechnic “gift” really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  Exciting, inventive, frequently amusing and infectiously likeable, this was some of the most uncomplicated cinematic fun I had all summer.  Not bad for something which I’m sure was originally destined to become one of the season’s B-list features …

[myhockeyworld87]

Afraid - David Pastrnak

Word Count: 2,418

Requested: Yes

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language 

Notes: I can’t find the original request, but this is the one someone wanted me to write with the Bruins and I was going to change it to the Stars, so I hope this ends up being ok. Happy Reading!

The first thing you realized when you met David, or Pasta, as everyone else called him, was that he wasn't afraid of anything. He wasn't afraid to drop the gloves and fight when he was on the ice, even though it worried the hell out of you; and he surely wasn't afraid to kill any of the gross and nasty bugs that would fly or crawl into your place. When you watched a scary movie, you were constantly hiding your head into his chest. His teammates would try to get the upper hand on him all the time, pulling pranks on him, but nothing seemed to make him flinch.

 You were at one of the Bruins get together early on in the season, hanging by the pool when Jake tried to scare him by slithering a snake down his shoulder. It was an elaborate plan, he and Marchand were up on the roof, while Krug was distracting Pasta. They dropped the fake reptile down onto him perfectly; though David just laughed and continued on with his conversation as if nothing happened.

 It was after that, that Jake cornered you and asked for your help. "Come on, (Y/N), you've got to know something that he's afraid of."

 "Honestly, I can't think of a thing."

 "Nothing at all? What about bears attacking him or fear of heights?" You made a face at him as if to say are you kidding me. He needed to think bigger. "We really need your help here."

 "I'll try and think of something." It was two weeks later when you were lying in bed with Pasta, watching some nonsense on television, that it came to you. You weren't sure what it was, but there was a noise in the house that had both of you looking at each other. David went to investigate and found nothing. "Maybe it's a ghost," you teased.

 "Shut up, that's not funny." He said crawling back under the covers.

 "David, you're not afraid of a little ghost are you?" He just smirked at you, not saying a word. "What is my big strong hockey player scared of the boogeyman?"

 He flipped you on your back, looming over you then, causing you to gasp as he pressed his erection into your body. "Mmm, nothing to be afraid of here." He breathed out, then pulled your shirt up kissing his way up to your breasts. "I don't see any ghosts here either, but maybe I should do a thorough investigation." He then proceeded to strip your body and comb every inch of it with his mouth before making you beg for him inside you.

 It was about a week later when you were finally able to give Jake the idea. "You really think that would get him?" He asked.

 "I mean it's worth a try."

 Jake had an elaborate scheme; he'd rented out a bed and breakfast for the guys to stay at overnight. He'd made arrangements with the owner to have some hair-raising events happen throughout the night to make it seem as if the place was haunted. "I'm not going if you don't go." Pasta insisted.

 "But isn't this a team thing, not a couple's thing." You knew what was going to happen and didn't want any parts of it.

 "So, we can make it a couples thing. I don't get to see you enough as it is." He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you close. "I'm not spending one of my nights at home without you." He kissed your lips then and you melted. "Come on, I'll call Marchy and see if he and Kat can get someone to watch the kids for the night. I'm sure they could use a night off. Maybe Torey will bring Mel too."

 "Yeah, and what about Jake? He'll be all alone." It was a last-ditch effort, for you knew your boyfriend could be stubborn when he wanted to. "Maybe he needs this guy time or something."

 "If you invite Sara, he'll be fine. You know he's been working on dating her for a while now. This will just help them out a bit. You know, nudge them in the right direction."

 The fact that Sara had been bugging you to set her up with Jake, didn't help. If she found out about something like this, she'd kill you for not inviting her. "Call Jake and make sure it's ok with him first."

 "He'll be fine with it." When you swatted his chest, he sighed. "Ouch, alright I'll call him." Of course, Jake was fine with everything; he and Marchy were dying to scare the wits out of Pasta for years. You packed an overnight bag for both of you to stay in the country bed and breakfast. Jake and Sara drove with the two of you, while the other four went in Marchand's car. The two- and half-hour drive was beautiful as the leaves on the trees were covered in vibrant shades of orange, red, and yellow.

 The house was a giant old Victorian home, that looked warm and inviting; if you didn't know what was going to happen you'd actually want to just come for the weekend and get away. "Wow, this place is beautiful," Sara exclaimed while you were getting out of the car.

 "Yeah, nice call Jake," Pasta added as the two guys grabbed your overnight bags. You glared over at Jake, who just smirked back. The other four pulled in next to you guys and soon everyone was being shown to their rooms. Your little group explored the town, doing wine tasting, and checking out the local flavor the town had to offer. After a wonderful dinner your host had made, she started to tell you the legend of the home.

 "It was built back in the 1800s, right before the civil war. You know Massachusetts played a significant role in the antislavery movement." Everyone was listening with rapt attention. "This house held some very important strategy meetings in it. Well, that was until one night, when rebel spies came in and slaughter two generals right in their beds. They say sometimes at night they still roam these halls plotting their revenge." You saw Sara's eyes widen at the tale, as the girl was definitely afraid of the supernatural. "Well on that note, I'll leave you all to it. Make yourselves at home, and if you need anything we're right next door. I'll be back in the morning to make everyone breakfast." There were a round of goodnights and a bunch of thank-yous before she added. "Oh, there's also a Ouija board if you interested in seeing if their spirits are still here." With that, she headed out the door.

 "Oh, no we are not doing that." Sara was the first to say.

 "Come on babe," Jake said to her, though part of you wondered when he started using the term of endearment. "It'll be fun. It's not like this place is haunted or anything."

 "Yeah, I can't see the harm in it," Brad added. "As long as no one pushes the little letter mover."  

 "It's a planchette, dummy," Katrina responded, swiping her hubby upside the head.

 "How do you know this?"

 "I know lots of things, but you never ask." Jake was already bringing out the board to play. You could see a slight hesitation in David's eyes and while you knew the entire thing was set up you weren't that keen on playing with a device used to contact the spirit world.

 "Come on it'll be a good time. Now everyone put one finger on the…"

 "Planchette," Kat supplied again.

 "Yeah, what she said." He went and shut the lights off, leaving the room basked in the glow of the flickering candles in the room.

 "I'm not so sure about this." You reiterated just to make it known that you were not in on this.

 "It's fine (Y/N), you have Pasta to protect you. He's not afraid of anything. Are you?"

 "What me, afraid?" He shook his head, but you still heard a slight hitch in his voice. "Never."

 "Alright, let's get to it." Everyone put a finger on the cursor. "Spirit of this house, we ask you to let us know you are hear." The small wooden shape moved over to the word 'yes.'

 "Somebody moved that," Krug yelled out, to which everyone answered not me. "This is fucked up."

 "Ask it something else," Mel encouraged.

 "Can you give us a sign?" Jake said now looking up into the room as if the spirit was somehow hovering above you. The curtains on the window, which were open, suddenly closed. Everyone gasping as they did.

 Sara pulled her finger off the planchette. "I don't want to play this anymore."

 "Alright which one of you assholes is pulling the cord," Pasta asked.

 "How the hell are we suppose to do that when we're not even close to it," Marchand answered.

 "Spirit make your presence known," Jake asked again before anyone could question anything else happening. It took a second, but then you felt a warm breeze waft into the room, a ghostly figure taking form in the reflection of the glass of the picture hanging on the wall. You gasped and pointed, taken back slightly even though you knew it was only a parlor trick. It disappeared as fast as it came.

 "This isn't funny anymore," Mel told everyone in the room and you wondered if their husbands had let them in on the joke. From the look on her face that was at least not the case with Mel.

 "Oh, it's harmless, here let me try." Kat chimed in. "Spirit tell us who you are?" the cursor glided across the board to the letters G-E-N-E-R-A-L. "General who?" It then moved to M-E-A-G-H-E-R. "General Meager, were you killed in the civil war?" Kat really seemed to be getting into the game even more so as it moved to yes.

 Krug got in on the questions, asking, "Were you murdered here?" The planchette moved back again to yes, only this time a candle blew out with it.

 "Maybe we shouldn't be doing this, guys. I think we're scaring the girls here." Pasta said a slight tremble in his voice.

 "You aren't scared are you Pasta?" Jake teased. The word 'NO' came out much sharper than intended. "Give us another sign." The lights to the room went on and off several times, and you knew Jake had to be controlling it with some remote.

 There were more questions, which were met with moves of the cursor answering them. Of course, Marchand had to ask another question to have something spooky happen. "Were you secretly a spy?" The cursor moved quickly up to the word no and there was a loud crash in the room off to the side. Everyone screamed, well at least you girls did but even the guys gasped as the noise startled all of you.

 "I think you angered it," Jake told the group.

 "All right, I think we've all had enough of this little game guys." Pasta chided the men. "You're frightening the girls." You could also tell that he was scared as well. His leg hadn't stopped shaking; it was a definite sign he was nervous.

 "Admit it, man, you're afraid as well." Jake taunted him. You weren't sure if it was enough to get David to admit anything, but then the candle levitated off the table; not more than an inch but it had you clutching Pasta's arm.

 "Fine, this is freaking me the fuck out. Now, knock it off."

 "I….we…" Jake's voice was trembling with fear. "Didn't do that."

 "Fuck no man," Marchy added and suddenly the room got hot as if all the air had been sucked out of it. Torey pushed the board away, signaling an end to the game. "This isn't funny anymore."

 "Turn the damn lights on Jake," David yelled, and Jake got up to turn them back on, only when he flicked the switch nothing happened. He did it about five times repeatedly and nothing happened.

 "Seriously, Jake this is not funny at all." You screamed and huddled closer to David. It was then that you heard a ghostly voice moaning out in pain. The sound sent shivers up your spine. Suddenly the painting on the wall, crashed to the floor, splintering the glass in little pieces. Everyone shrieked.

 "I'm not doing this; I swear to god!" Jake whimpered out completely scared now like the rest of you. Marchy and Krug echoing that they weren't involved in this either.

 "I think we should leave," Sara whined, but you totally agreed.

 "Oh my god," Mel gasped out, pointing over to the mirror where blood was dripping down. You had no clue what was happening but there was no way in hell you were staying at this place.

 "Holy Fuck!" You heard Brad, or maybe it was Jake, yell; perhaps it was both. It was then that you felt Pasta shaking beside you. Automatically, you assumed it was from being just as afraid as all of you. That was until you heard his loud bark of laughter.

 "What the?" It was your thoughts, but Debrusk was the one to give it voice.

 Just then the lights came on, Pasta still laughing hysterically. He pulled a remote out of his pocket. "You fools thought that you could get me, but looks like I got you instead."

 You pulled away from him and smacked him hard on the shoulder, where he mouthed out an 'ow.' "Not funny David, not funny at all."

 "Oh, I beg to differ sweetheart. The looks on all of your faces are quite funny."

 "Wait this whole thing was a setup?" Sara asked.

 "Yes," Pasta admitted, before continuing. "These three thought they could scare me, but I turned it around on them. I told you I'm not afraid of anything." Suddenly, all the candles on the table blew out, even though the air didn't stir. "Haha, very funny guys, but the joke is over."

 "I thought you did that," Jake said.

 Pasta shook his head no, while everyone else looked at each other. "Maybe, you should stay someplace else for the night," David admitted, somewhat shaken by what happened. Everyone agreed and headed upstairs to go grab their things. What no one saw was the smirk on your face, for in the end, you were the one who had the upper hand on them all.  

[finished-ink]

The Last of Us Part II RANT

I’m normally a “moblie user only” person myself, but Part II took the fattest, nastiest shit on me I’ve ever had the displeasure and feeling through game, that I had to hop on my computer and type this. But before I get in to all the bad, let me start off with the little good in the game.

PROS: The Sound Design, the Animation and Graphics, and the Voice Work

Sound Design: The songs and music in this game were extremely well done. It had me moved to tears to sitting on the edge of my seat anxious about what was going to happen next.

Animation and Graphics: The animation truly seemed like a TON of time, energy, and love went into designing the characters and their surroundings.The graphics were just as awesome and truly made you feel immersed in the world of tlou.

Voice Work: Great work done my all voice actors involved. They, along with the graphics, made the characters really come to life.

OK, now done with the good, time for the fucking bullshit. I am mostly going to focus an the story and the characters. Because holy fuck, I know GOT season 8 was like a milestone in bad storytelling, but the goal wasn’t to do worse than that shitty ass season.

The Shitty Story:  I think the first thing that set this story up to be the fuck up that it is, was this lesson of “Violence isn’t the answer”. I think if the lesson was, “Your actions and choices have consequences” would have been a better theme to go along with this story. So, lets begin with Joel’s death.

I was honestly not surprised at all when I got to Abby at the beginning and someone was there to kill Joel. To think he would be able to evade the effects of what he did to the Fireflies would have been a bit ridiculous. I was even semi-fine with the torture of Joel, because I could see how that decision would force the player to really want to get back at Abby. Was it needed? Absolutely not because just killing Joel would of accomplished this. But if the torture of Joel was something Naught Dog really wanted to include then OK fine. We then come to the next extremely shitty part in the story, killing members of WLF and the game making the player feel guilty for it.

Now I know this is kinda a game play issue, but the issue being solved with a simple change in the game play would effect the story. And that is allowing the players to choose what the fuck they want to do. Do you want to just going in and slaughter everybody while their friends scream about their friends dying. That’s completely your choice. Do you want to quietly and tactically knock them out and leave them to live? Let that also be a choice. The could of even done it to where the more people you kill the more ammo and weapons you could collect, but it’ll be harder to travel because WLF will be sending out more brutes and harder enemies in an attempt to stop you. On the flip side, the more people you knock out, the less ammo and weapons you have, but the less WLFs there are to try and hunt you down because you’re not a bigger threat than the Scars. Then they could use dialogue said by the npcs to give the player an idea of how much of a threat they are to WLF. In a game where its trying to teach this lesson of “Violence isn’t the answer”, it sure forces you to resort to violence at every opportunity. You can even keep the intended message because in the game, violence isn’t always truly the answer. Bouncing off of this is my next change to the story, having the players make the choice about whether or not they want to kill Nora, Mel, and Owen.

Let’s get one thing straight, Ellie beating the shit out of Nora was not needed. An alternative to getting the info about where Abby was staying at could of been done through a series of little puzzle quests to give Ellie clues on where Abby was. This would be longer, but would not of had the same effect on Ellie’s mental state as beating the fuck out of Nora did. However, they could of kept the original scene as it played out. You get the info fast and you don’t lose out on anything major. Maybe some ammo and some pills but not enough to where it feels like you’ve lost out. But the choice now falls on the players to decide what they should do. The same applies with Mel and Owen. When you arrive at the aquarium, the player can decide to shot Owen to get Mel to talk, kill Mel to get Owen to talk, or grab Mel to threaten Owen to talk. The two kill options would be semi-bad because what played out originally with Abby would happen. But if the player decided to threaten Mel, Owen would talk, Ellie would release Mel but still holding them at gun point, and leave. However this would happen after another choice I think should of been implemented in the game. The choice to travel with Jesse to go and find Tommy.

When this happened even I wanted Ellie to just go with Jesse. It seemed like a great point to give the players a chance to decide what they wanted Ellie to do. Here’s how I would of wanted it to go: The player can either make Ellie continue to the aquarium, and the story would follow along as normal, or the player makes Ellie go with Jesse to find Tommy and leave. They leave and find Tommy after his encounter with Abby. You could even make another choice here where Tommy wants to try and go back to hunt down Abby, or go back to Dina with Jesse after he argues that they need to leave. If you go back with Jesse, Tommy follows with you, upset she gets to live, but moves on. From this they return to the theater, grab Dina and travel back to Jackson. This can then branch off to the future we see with Ellie and Dina, but there’s a scene where they travel to Jackson with J.J to see Jesse and his family. While there, Tommy approaches Ellie and says that he found Abby, and the player can decide what to do here as well. Go after Abby or stay. If the player goes after Abby, Ellie does find her and kills her, but it leaves Ellie feeling a bit conflicted because she doesn’t feel the fulfillment she thought she would feel. Cut to her traveling back to Jackson, visiting Joel’s grave and cue heart wrenching scene of her playing the guitar at his grave.

Now circling back, if the player decided to travel with Tommy to hunt Abby down in Seattle, Jesse reluctantly agrees, but tells them if they don’t find her by tomorrow afternoon, they all leave. This would then lead to the player finding Abby and Lev (because in my head Lev does run off but the boat he takes in the aquarium isn’t there and heard talk about the other boats the WLF’s use and takes off there, but Abby catches him in time to stop him from traveling to the island. This would happen after her encounter with Tommy) and Abby would tell Lev to run back to the aquarium with Yara. So its Ellie, Jesse, and Tommy holding Abby at gun point. Knowing a 3v1 isn’t winnable, she lays down her weapons and thus, another decision is allowed for the player. Kill Abby or let her live. Killing Abby has an effect on Ellie’s mental state and that can effect the game at the end. Not too bad that it ruins the ending, but bad enough that maybe there’s a cut scene of her having nightmares about killing her. If the player decides to not kill her, Ellie lets her go, she runs off, Tommy and her argue and Jesse tells them to drop it and get back to the theater. They do and cue to the ending I talked about earlier with everyone going back to Jackson. Now this leads me to my leads final story issue I would change about the game, Abby’s portion would be significantly cut down.

While the player would still play as Abby, the only flash back that would be included is the one about her and her father. Narratively, I don’t hate it. It allows for the player to understand why Abby wanted to kill Joel and drive home the new theme of “Your choices and actions have consequences”. However playing as Abby for, what, 12 hours of the game wasn’t needed. If the excuse was to pad for time, everything I said above would not have only extended the time, but would of allowed for players to want to replay the game. The player would still play as Abby with Lev and Yara so it can set up the players for how all the characters got to where they are by the time the player is given the choice to Kill or Let Abby Go. I’m on the fence about if the player would still be Abby and the theater scene would play as normal if you kill Mel or Owen. Kinda up in the air but what can you do. Anyways, while this would humanize the character to extent, it wouldn’t try to wash down her deeds like Naught Dogs tried to do. In my creation of this story, what happened in Santa Barbara would not take place at all.

All in all, there was some much they could of done with this story that could of made it worth playing. I have no more words for this grotesque torture p*rn game Neil and Naught Dogs decided to create. I wish I could fucking wipe my brain and get back to two days I wasted on this game. Fuck them and I hope Naughty Dogs fucking falls apart. I will finish my little essay with asking y’all to please not harass or go after the voice actors and the people who tried to make this game. Go after Neil , because ultimately this falls on him.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Field of Poppies Part 3

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 3: Amelia questions the Shelbys actions as they establish themselves as bookies. 

March 1909

             Polly said that Amelia wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be joining the family for dinner. The only one who seemed hung up on this fact was Tommy. The others were happy to go about eating and chatting about their day. As John had predicted, Ada seemed to forget what she was crying about that morning. She was all too excited to tell everyone that she had been the best at double-dutch in the schoolyard. Even better than that no-good-pigtailed-bratty-stuck-up-snob Ingrid.

            Tommy wasn’t too interested in the mundane details of his family’s life. His mind was elsewhere, so he finished dinner quickly and headed upstairs.

            When Amelia arrived, Polly had to rearrange the Shelbys to make room. Tommy had to camp out on the couch a bit longer than he would’ve liked because none of his siblings could agree to any proposed arrangement. John and Ada didn’t want to bunk together. Arthur argued he was the oldest and should have his own room. And none of them wanted to be placed with Finn. Finally, Polly put her foot down. Tommy and John would share a room and that was that.

            But when Tommy passed what once was his room, the door was open and it was empty. He frowned and continued down the cramped hall. The bathroom door was closed and he could hear retching from inside. He lightly knocked on the door. “Mel? Alright?”

            The young woman cleared her throat and stood up from her spot kneeling at the toilet. She rinsed her mouth out in the washbasin and opened the door. “I’m okay.”

            “Sounded like you were getting sick.”

            “It’s normal with the baby.” She assured him; a bit embarrassed that he’d heard her.

            “Oh.” He nodded and could remember times when his mother was ill with his siblings. But he hadn’t thought much of it. She had always put on a brave face for her kids. “Pol said you weren’t feeling well.”

            “Long day, I guess.” She moved past him and went back to the bedroom.

            Tommy followed even if she didn’t really invite him to. He leaned up against the doorframe. “Anything you want to talk about or I could fuck off ‘n leave you be.”

            She laughed softly and waved him into the room. “Close the door, would you?”

            He obliged, going to sit on a chest across from the bed, by the nearly empty desk. Even if it was his room, he didn’t want to invade her privacy.

            Amelia sat down on the bed and leaned down to remove her stockings. She felt so sluggish and weary but couldn’t tell if it really was just because of her busy day or because her mind was a factory of worries. She tossed the stockings toward the hamper and began to unpin her hair.

            “What’s on your mind? You look-concerned.”

            “Do you think that not having your father around really…well, I guess that’s a stupid fucking question. I just…” She groaned when she couldn’t find the words to voice her distress. She realized she wouldn’t get anywhere if she was asking rhetorical questions in some roundabout way. “Do you think that my child will hate me because they won’t know their father? Honestly, be honest.”

            Tommy was surprised. He expected she would go to Polly with such a problem. True, they were longtime friends but what did he know about children and parenthood? “I don’t think your child would hate you for anything? You’ll be a great mother, Mel, you know that.”

            Amelia tipped her head up to the ceiling. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes and she didn’t want them to fall. “I want you to be honest with me, Tom, not to say nice things. We both know nothing in this fucking world is nice.”

            “Hey, now. Look at me. Amelia, look at me.”

            She did so, reluctantly. A tear slipped down her cheek as she met his blue eyes.

            “Yeah, so the world’s a pile of shit. But there are nice things if there weren’t then what would be the point of living, aye?” He pointed out. “I don’t know what your child will say ‘bout anything. But I know that they’ll think the world of you because you did everything for them. That’s something, right?”

            She shook her head. Everything in her wanted to stay miserable. She wanted to torture herself because she felt she deserved it. All of her actions had led her to that moment. She deserved what she got. But Tommy’s words coaxed her gently to a nicer place. A place where there was hope. There was the possibility that she could succeed in raising her child.

            “I’ll say it again but you’ve got a family here. We’re gonna help you out. And-and if I need to step in as some sorta father figure than I will.” He straightened up a bit as he finished. Suddenly determined to take on the challenge he’d thrust upon himself.

            “Tom…”

            “I’m serious.” He reiterated with a half-smile. “I mean, I may not be any good at it, but I’ll try. I said I’d take care of you and I intend on doing that. I’m not some good for nothing like-” He purposefully didn’t finish his thought. It didn’t need to be finished; they both knew they were talking about Arthur Sr. Tommy strove to be the exact opposite of his father. He wouldn’t beat his children, wouldn’t drink their money away, would provide for them, would make sure dinner was always on the table, would give them a sense of safety and love. He could give that to Amelia’s child, they both deserved to be treated well. Why shouldn’t Tommy be the one to do so?

            “I can’t ask you to do that.” Amelia looked hesitant. Would it be nice to have a strong male figure in her child’s life? Of course. She worried what would happen without one. But to put that responsibility on someone else her age? They were both still so young.

            “You don’t have to ask.” He shrugged and stood up. “Are you feeling a bit better? I could see if they spared you any leftovers downstairs.” He offered as if it were the first thing he could do to prove he was fit to help her out.

            She smiled. “Maybe a bit of bread.”  

            “Alright, just be a mo’.”

May 1909

          After his talk with Amelia, Tommy was more intent on setting up the betting shop as soon as they could. The empty place offered so many possibilities in his eyes. Possibilities that could lift him and his family out of poverty. Both he and Arthur knew it would be an uphill battle. There were already plenty of betting shops tucked away in the dark corners of Birmingham and elsewhere. Using fronts as laundry, pubs, or even butchers. Beyond that, there were men who controlled the tracks. They fixed races to their heart’s delight and didn’t take kindly to others who tried to do the same. Without explicit permission, of course. Their bookies were violent and no one in their right mind would go after them. Maybe that’s why everyone thought Arthur and Tommy were mad.

            And perhaps they were, but that didn’t stop them from beginning to take bets out of the shop attached to the flat.

            Polly wanted to be upset that her nephews were bringing trouble so close to their home. But she couldn’t deny the income that they were starting to bring in. It wasn’t much at first, but it was something. Something that could be counted on for groceries or unexpected expenses. And since Tommy and Arthur had stopped attending school around thirteen, they made mistakes with the odds. So, Polly felt she could step in and mind the books better than they could. She never claimed to be a saint.

            Being a charming man meant Tommy could count on a lot of people joining his little setup. People he’d known for years and could trust. Danny Owens was a good friend with a good heart, Freddie Thorne knew him from Greta’s meetings. Jeremiah attended church with Polly but he wasn’t shy of a little criminal behavior to survive. There were others, but there was a hierarchy of trust that Tommy took very seriously. Family always came first.

            But with the betting shop came trouble. Other bookies weren’t so keen that the Shelbys were starting to dip their toes in the business. There was already enough competition in Birmingham alone. So, trouble started to brew.

            It started with just some harassment. A few threats and taunts. The Birmingham Boys apparently weren’t going to chalk the Shelbys up to just some amateurs. Even if there was a whiff of a potential threat, they learned to step in and snuff out the problem.

~~~~~~~~~~~

            That’s why, a few months after the betting shop was established, Tommy was jumped by five men. Luckily, they hadn’t roughed him up too badly. But he did look to be in bad shape when he staggered into the flat. He was limping and held a blood-soaked handkerchief to his nose

            “Tom!” Amelia gasped in horror when he came inside and ran into her at the base of the stairs. Six months pregnant, Polly had warned her to be a bit more cautious when it came to surprises and overexerting herself. But of course, she couldn’t be prepared for everything Tommy decided to get into.

            “S’alright, s’alright.” He grunted and made his way into the kitchen. He was certain one of his ribs was broken and his nose might have been too. It hadn’t exactly been a fair fight. He was taken completely by surprise as five of the Birmingham Boys popped out around a dark corner and immediately pummeled him to the ground. Once the initial blow wore off, Tommy tried to fight back but there wasn’t much use. Had Arthur been there, maybe they would’ve had a chance. But alone, he was knocked to the ground and had his ribs kicked in as the older men shouted slurs at him.

            “What happened?” She followed him, still in shock.

            “Got attacked.” He answered through the cloth over his nose and mouth. He went to the water pump and tried to get it going but the pain in his side was too much. He winced in pain and stifled a yelp.

            Amelia quickly dragged a chair over to the pump and made him sit. She filled up the basin with a bit of water and found a dishcloth to use. “Can I see?”

            Tommy removed the bloodied handkerchief. The blood seemed to have ebbed by the time he limped home.

            She carefully began to wipe the blood away from his face. “What else hurts?” She asked. They could talk about what happened when she was sure he was okay.

            “Me ribs.” He rested a hand over the painful spot.

            “Alright, well, let me clean you up and I can have a look.”

            Tommy took a few deep breaths. His heart was still racing and of course he was still pissed off that he’d been bested. Of course, he could take some solace that he was severely outnumbered and at a disadvantage. Still, it bruised his ego.

            Amelia tried to lighten the mood a bit. “You looked like this after you beat up Ben Hearn because he kissed me.”

            It drew a smile from him as he remembered the event from when they were around ten-years-old. Tommy was heartbroken when he heard around school that Ben had kissed his best friend and secret crush. But when he got word that Amelia hadn’t wanted to kiss Ben in the first place, Tommy decided to get retribution. Ben had gotten a lucky punch and made Tommy’s nose bleed. But that only angered him more to the point where Arthur had to pull his younger brother off the other boy because it looked like Tommy had murder in his eyes.  

            “You knocked out his tooth.”

            Tommy shook his head. “I knocked out two of his teeth.” He corrected with a familiar smirk. “And he deserved it.”

            Amelia sighed. “You were always getting into trouble back then. I thought maybe it would change when we got older but…” She rinsed the cloth and watched the red water trickle into the basin. “Maybe this betting shop idea is too dangerous.”

            “Mel-”

            “I know why you’re doing it, and I admire your initiative but you have to know what you might be risking. Money won’t do us any good if you’re injured or-”

            “It’s alright. You don’t have to worry.”

            She hung the wet cloth against the side of the basin and turned back toward him. “Tom, if you’re coming home like this then I think I have a reason to be worried!” She exclaimed.

            “I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll sort it out.” He promised.

            Amelia wanted to scold him further but didn’t have the heart to. Besides, once Tommy set his mind to something, there wasn’t much hope for swaying him. Getting beat up never stopped him before, it likely wouldn’t stop him in the future. “You said your ribs hurt too?” She asked quietly.

            He nodded.

            “I can take a look at them but if they’re broken you ought to go see a doctor.” She washed any stray stains of blood off her hands and the washbasin.

            “Can’t afford a doctor right now.” Tommy stood up with a grunt and returned the chair to the table. He didn’t want Polly asking questions the next morning if she found the kitchen in disarray.

            “What do you mean? I thought Arthur said you had a good week. Said you had extra money.” Amelia dried her hands.

            “We did.”

            “So, where’s the money?” She questioned further.

            “I spent it.” Tommy grabbed a bottle of stout and uncorked it.

            “On what?”

            “You’ll see tomorrow, Mel.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

            The next day was Saturday and Amelia had the day off. She watched over John and Ada to give Polly a well-needed break.

            The weather was unseasonably warm so she took the two kids outside to play so they wouldn’t be cooped up indoors. Amelia sat on the steps darning one of her stockings while Ada skipped rope and John played football in the street with other neighborhood kids.

            There was a small group of people next door waiting to place bets for the next day’s race. To the untrained eye, they looked fairly inconspicuous. Amelia hadn’t asked what might happen if the cops would catch wind of the operation. No one mentioned it, so she assumed they either had it handled or intentionally didn’t want to think about it. Still, Polly had instilled in everyone that if the police were to come around, no one knew a thing about betting shops.

            “S'cuse me miss, is Tommy Shelby ‘round?”

            Amelia looked up from her stockings and smiled. “Danny?”

            The young man’s face broke into a look of disbelief. “Mellie? Is that you?” He removed his hat and got closer. “Tom said you’d come back; wasn’t sure I’d recognize you.” Danny Owens had been a longtime friend of the Shelbys. As a boy he was much taller than anyone in class but was quite awkward and quiet. He was from a very poor family, just like the rest of them. He was painfully shy from growing up with an abusive father. But once Tommy and Arthur took him under their wing, he became a bit more confident. He wasn’t much for fighting but if it was necessary to protect his friends, he would step in. Though, most kids wouldn’t even try to fight him because of his size and broad shoulders.

            Yet, Amelia had always known him as someone with a gentle side. “It’s been a while.” She agreed. “How’s your family?”

            “They’re good. Yeah, everyone’s good.” Danny fidgeted with his hat as he spoke to her.  

            She could tell he didn’t really want to talk about his family which was all well and good. Amelia didn’t want to talk about hers either. “You were after Tommy?”

            “You haven’t seen him ‘round have you?”

            “He should be in the shop. You can go through the kitchen if you’d like.” Amelia scooted to the side so Danny could get by.         

            “Thanks, Mel. Glad you’re back.” He smiled and walked into the flat.

            As he passed, she noticed his knuckles were bruised and there was a bit of blood smeared over the top of his hand. It sent a shiver down her spine as she realized it wasn’t just Tommy getting into trouble. Everyone she once knew as a child was getting caught up in this violence. It might’ve been small skirmishes, akin to the ones they used to get into in the schoolyard. But Amelia reasonably knew that there were much larger stakes at risk. None of them labeled their actions as organized crime, but that’s what it was. Amelia had heard about large scale gangs in London who controlled a lot more than just horse races. They had control over pubs and other businesses, paid off the police, and there were rumors that they had influence over government too.

            She wasn’t sure that was Tommy’s end game but she also didn’t know if he had any control over that. Could someone remove themselves from the lifestyle? Or were they in it for life?

            With a sigh, she set her stockings aside and checked on John and Ada across the street. There were so many questions about the future that she couldn’t even try to begin to answer. All she could do was see what came of it.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

            That same night, Amelia was in the kitchen making dinner while Ada rattled on about how she was going to go riding tomorrow and how Uncle Charlie might let her try to jump.

            The front door opened and Tommy poked his head inside. “Mel?” He called.

            “In the kitchen!” She replied.

            “Right, stay there, don’t come upstairs ‘til I say.”

            She raised an eyebrow but listened and continued peeling potatoes while Ada went on about horses.

            There were a few bumps against the wall and the staircase railing after the front door shut.

            “Fucking hell, this thing weighs a ton!” Arthur cursed.

            “Oi, be careful.” Tommy chided.

            “Be careful? It’s gonna damage me ‘fore I damage it!”

            A couple bangs and thumps and swears later, Tommy called Amelia upstairs.

            She and Ada went up and found him and Arthur in the bedroom. She looked confused until she saw the cot in the corner. Her mouth popped open in shock. “Tom?”

            He smiled a bit sheepishly. “For the baby.”

            “But I thought…I thought we would just move Finn’s in here.” She walked over to the new piece of furniture.

            “That thing’s older than any of us.” He shook his head. “Ought to toss it once Finn’s done with it.”

            Amelia ran a hand over the smooth oak wood. It was pristine, no nicks, or peeling varnish to be found. There were even intricate designs in the solid wood side and legs. She felt herself getting teary-eyed. She was didn’t even notice as Arthur herded Ada out of the room and back downstairs. “This is what you spent the money on?” She asked.

            Tommy nodded and shrugged. “The baby needs one, so why not?”

            She sniffled and went to hug him tightly. “It’s beautiful, thank you.”

            He hugged her back, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Then adoration swept over him. He hadn’t realized how much he loved making Amelia happy. He was always fond of her, but seeing her smile was one of the best things to see, in his opinion. Maybe he was still too young to know what love was, but he had a hunch that what he was feeling was love.

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[ceruleanmusings]

💞 for Mel!

Just to be clear, these are in no particular order. And I purposely kept these to those near her age because I have a different set of five when it comes to her dynamics with some of the adults on the show. And I would’ve included OCs but we would be here forever so I’ll make another post for the OC crossovers because those mean a lot to her too.

1. Allison: I’ve mentioned their dynamic a few times before but I can’t help gushing about it because I love it so much (even though I haven’t fully dived into it yet. Just wait for season 2!) Mel and Allison are two sides of the same coin, each sweet, loyal, caring, and strong-willed. Their differences is where their dynamic shines in that they both embody the weakness that the other tries to avoid: Allison finds being “powerless” and needing help weak whereas Mel sees knowing her limits and asking for help as being powerful. On the flipside, Mel sees Allison’s rejection of her emotions and being seen as “girly” being weak whereas Allison views acting on intellect rather than emotions keeping her in power. Because of this, they butt heads from time to time and get frustrated with one another but, Allison trusted Mel without a second thought when it came to sharing her thoughts and discoveries about the supernatural so, deep down, they have a level of respect for one another.

2. Erica: Of course I have to mention these two! Shipping aside, I love their dynamic because girls supporting girls is my jam! No matter how dumb of an idea Mel has, Erica will be right there behind her offering unwavering support. And any time Erica feels down about herself, Mel will jump in and tell her all the reasons why Erica is amazing and fantastic and worth more than her inner voice says. The thing is, they are also polar opposites and hated each other when they first met; sometimes their opposite personalities shine through and cause them to bicker and get frustrated with one another but, no matter what, they always come back together stronger than ever. Even though sometimes Mel infantilizes Erica and heaps on positivity to the point she becomes dismissive and toxic and sometimes Erica rebels and pushes back a little too much, their need to protect one another will always override any argument they having.

3. Stiles: Hoooo boy these two together are like a tornado and a hurricane colliding on a rollercoaster. Together they’re the definition of chaos, especially when they’re focused on the same goal (no matter how dumb). When they’re not? They pick at each other, call one another names, tease each other mercilessly. But they support each other and when it comes to the supernatural shenanigans surrounding Beacon Hills, these two are a force to be reckoned with. Underneath it all (no pun intended) Stiles is easily the brother that Mel never had (not that she’d ever say that to his face, can’t let him know she actually likes him.)

4. Isaac: Again, shipping aside, I love their dynamic. Small, loud, energetic, sunshine personified chick and tall, quiet, snarky, impulsive, and moody guy is one of my all-time favorite dynamics to write. Isaac lets Mel unapologetically be herself, he likes how crazy she is, he likes how outlandish she he, he likes how silly she is, he likes how she can flip all of that in a second and be compassionate, sensitive, empathetic, and understanding when the situation arises. She likes that he can help her slow down and look at the big picture, she likes that while he teases her he doesn’t judge her, she likes that he brings a realistic view to her otherwise rose-colored world,  she likes that, despite the abuse he’s been through, he’s still trying to be a good person. They lean on one another as a sort of bubble of peace and fresh air within Beacon Hills, allowing themselves to be kids when everyone else wants them to be targets. But the problem is that he puts her on a pedestal and she treats him like a problem to fix; they both have good intentions but it tends to rear it’s ugly head and set off some ugly arguments. In the end, they care for each other deeply.

5. Scott: this one I worried would be hard when I first wrote them; two kind, caring, empathetic, positive characters sounds boring on paper but I love these two together. If either needs a nonjudgemental ear, they go to each other because they’re two of the few people they know who would actually sit down and listen. Not try and come up with a solution to a problem or brush them away but actually listen. Scott wholeheartedly supports and encourages her decisions to join and be the first female on the Beacon Hills lacrosse team, proud to have someone like her on the field with him. She goes to the end of the Earth to find out everything she can about the supernatural to help him and keep him safe right after he’s been bitten. If one begins to lose hope, the other is ready to give it back where they found it. They validate and recognize one anothers’ feelings and rarely argue, usually seeing eye to eye. After Allison and Kira, Melanie steps up and fills in the role as Scott’s pseudo alpha female in the pack. I just love these two balls of sunshine!

Thanks for sending this in!

send me 💞 + an oc and ill tell you my top five favorite dynamics of theirs!

[horizondawn]

I got so much more from my experience playing The Last of Us Part II than "revenge is bad". It's something I've literally and heavily been dealing with just this past month. I have a lot of deep thoughts here, so here we go. This isn’t saying you’re horrible if you didn’t like the game, but after sitting on it for a while after finishing, these are my thoughts of the series from my perspective through my real life experiences and own personal morals/beliefs and how I try to grow as a person. Key word: Try.

I have a family member who was murdered over 3 decades ago, and it still haunts me and my family to this day. I've had night terrors similar to the ones Ellie had in the game, even if I didn’t see the actual act, so I can only imagine how traumatizing it is for her. The murderer has been locked up and on death row ever since, and for a while I was set on going to the eventual execution. My anger fueled me for an awfully long time, but it wasn't until a few years ago I realized that is not me. Killing him (or in my case wanting satisfaction by watching a live execution) won't bring that family member back, and I would lose a part of myself if I actually went through with what I intended and held onto those feelings. And that was identical to what was happening to Ellie. I didn't want her to lose herself, because going down that destructive path means you come out in the worse possible way. Even worse than the ending we got. I was frustrated with Ellie because I understand her pain to an extent even if the situations are nothing alike, and that is the reason why I bonded, cared, and loved her even more, and I didn't think that was possible. The killing we committed as Joel didn't bother me as much in the first game because they were a bunch of hunters we never really understood. The one time I sat there unable to pull the trigger for a good while was when I was forced to shoot the surgeon, who was later revealed to be Abby’s father. I didn’t want to do it, but I had to in order to finish the game. In Part II we saw so many perspectives on top of knowing Ellie was losing it by deliberately going after these groups of people. The further on I played, even before getting to Abby's perspective when I hated her, I still didn't want Ellie to go through with it. From the very beginning, even though it was going to be brutal, I absolutely did not want Ellie to accomplish this goal. That’s mainly because I know the feeling, and it really does consume you.

It fucking hurt and I was so frustrated with Ellie when she left Dina, JJ, and their life together, but it was because I care so much for her and desperately wanted her to let her anger go rather than the actual writing. I felt for her as a real person rather than just a character who was written. Even if she has lost everything she ever had though, Ellie didn't lose herself or her humanity and ability to care in the end, and that sliver of hope made me feel relieved. The symbolism of her leaving the guitar Joel gifted her, that she could no longer play properly, was a sign of her forgiving him, and letting go.

And that's only from Ellie's perspective. I had to stop playing for a bit the moment I had to start playing as Abby, the biggest emotional whiplash ever. Holy hell though did my perspective change and I eventually loved her as a character. Even if I still hated her I love getting to see different perspectives. Seeing Abby’s story as well contributed to why that final fight made me sob. I stopped controlling Ellie and had her just standing there on the beach because I knew what was about to happen, and I did not want that. I really didn’t know if Ellie was actually going to kill Abby or not. And I cannot describe how many of the tears that were shed were from relief when she didn’t. I would literally love to play a game just focused on Abby and Lev though and see where they go as their dynamic was absolutely amazing and I will fight anyone who hates on Lev; he is such a treasure. And even though I will never forgive Abby for what she did, I’m tired of hanging onto that kind of anger, even if it’s for a fictional character. I want to understand everyone better in reality, because we are all human, and that makes things so very complicated. Add a fallen society after a world wide pandemic that has wiped out most of humanity and it makes it even more complicated. The human experience is insane and no one will ever be able to understand everyone else’s experiences and pain, and that’s what makes individual lives so vast and important. 

I didn’t know any of the spoilers aside from Abby killing Joel, but I didn’t know the specifics, and I didn’t see a single screenshot spoiler. I still have no idea what the spoilers were beyond that. The moment it was announced a sequel was coming out I had a very big feeling Joel was going to die though, so I was okay with that if it happened from a narrative perspective. And you know why? Because the world of The Last of Us is cruel, and people are taken from Ellie in the blink of an eye. One moment Ellie confessed her love to Riley while sharing a sweet kiss and dancing and the next she’s bitten and we know what happened from there. One moment she’s travelling with Joel and Tess and Tess is gone. One moment she’s sharing a wonderful moment with Sam and Henry, and then they’re both gone. In the most brutal and cruel manner that fed her survival’s guilt. And that is why she was so upset with Joel. She lost so many people literally right in front of her. Then she learns the Fireflies are gone because of the one person she was able to grow to love as family, something she never ever had in her life, which also means her previous guardian, Marlene, her mother’s close friend, is gone as well because of him. As Tess quoted, “Guess what, we’re shitty people Joel; it’s been like that for a long time”. Tess was right. Joel was not a good person, and that is what made him unbelievably fascinating as a playable protagonist. But the player grew to know him from Ellie’s direct influence, not from the hardened person he became after 20 years of emotional distance from anyone following the death of Sarah. And that sudden harsh cruelty is exactly what I was expecting in the sequel, even if I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared for it. I certainly still got upset with every death there was: Joel, Jesse, Mel, Owen, Yara, everyone. The Last of Us is not focused on happy endings. At all. Of course we wish for that, and the new menu after completing the game shows that there was definitely some hope following what happened on that beach, but the world is more about human emotion and the crazy things we do for the people we love, even if it’s in the worse possible way, and it gives us that bit of questioning wonder with a tiny dash of hope for Ellie and her humanity. That’s exactly what Joel’s actions were for his love for Ellie at the end of the first game. This was Ellie doing the same for her love for him. And what Abby did for her love for her father. And the thing is some people wish we understood Abby from a different order, and I totally understand and respect that. But again, in real life we don’t get the background knowledge of everyone’s pasts either if not for research of some kind, which is why we need to make an effort to learn if possible. That’s all The Last of Us really has to offer, no matter which character’s story we are following, and that is what makes it so special. The second game isn’t driven by hatred alone. It’s about the other gruesome side of things for love.

Now gameplay wise, yes, I do believe structure could have been improved or done differently to help with the flow of the narrative here and there. And there were some moments that felt dragged. But that’s gameplay, not the story itself. I thought The Last of Us was emotional whiplash. That was just preparation to the roller coaster Part II would bring. And I’m not saying Part II is better. Both games are very different stories with very different perspectives, so I honestly can’t compare them. The original game brings the bond of two characters we all grew to fearlessly love. Part II brings what exists outside of the world of those two characters, and that they aren’t the only ones on this teeter totter of having done horrific things in the name of love in this cruel world they live in. Because we’re all only human. In game as Ellie, Joel, and Abby we pick up all of these letters throughout both games about these characters we don’t even see, let alone meet, and yet I want to know more about what happened to them. What are their stories during all of this? And even if you still hate Abby in the end, which is fine, there was that chance of seeing someone else’s story as well that intertwines with Ellie. I personally LOVE it when this happens. And all of us, no matter how horrible the world seems to fall apart, are capable of learning through the knowledge of other’s experiences.