#it's one pov and the switch is more physiological | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

victimhood · 4 years ago

Text

My TOG cast and crew movie reviews

Ok so watching TOG revived the part of me that LOVES indie-ish/European Arthouse films and I blitzed through a bunch with more to come! Idk who this review serves but I just had to explode in writing or...the feelings would go nowhere.

Love and Basketball

My movie rating: 4 / 5

Favourite parts: the conflict between a tomboy sports loving protagonist and a conventional homemaking mother. To sound cliched, this is the sort of thing only a woman filmmaker can bring out in her films. There’s so much nuance and tension expressed in all the individual women in the film and where that lies in the enforced dichotomy of woman/not a woman--thereby highlighting that IT SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN A DICHOTOMY all of these are in the broad spectrum of womanly behaviors bc they come from women!!! The ending where a husband supports his wife in HER basketball game? LOVE THAT. Music choices are also A++ in this film.

The film also provides some insight into respectability politics--here we have an NBA player who wants his son to do something more conventionally “respectable”. I am not American nor am I Black so someone with more insight would be able to speak to this better, but even so as an audience I could feel it!

TOG cast rating: none, bc it’s the director!! This is Gina Prince-Bythewood’s breakout film but you can palpably feel that she poured her heart and perhaps some of her life experiences in this film!

Martin Eden

My movie rating: 3.5 / 5

Don’t understand the movie, slightly put off by the Nietzschean individualist philosophy. Doubly so after I read that the author of the book (Jack London) is a socialist?? (FTR so am I so like...I’ve had enough of white male indivudalism!!) Stuff like that always reminds me of (500) Days of Summer which is anti-manic pixie dream girl and yet is beloved by aspiring MPDG-philes. Here is a quote from the author himself: London wrote, "One of my motifs, in this book, was an attack on individualism (in the person of the hero). I must have bungled it, for not a single reviewer has discovered it."

Though I have not read the book, I hope the movie is a little more pronounced, in the unraveling of the eponymous protagonist. Luca gives an impressive show of his Acting Range as the protagonist moves through life and goes through a whole bunch of political beliefs in reaction to the situation around him.

I love movies that show the impoverished side of Europe though. The movie does a good job of showing the class conflict within society--at the end of the day, the Martin Eden that has risen through the social ladder is a self-despising man. The bread mopping scene is great, and truly, there is no love for Luca Martinelli like the camera’s love for Luca Martinelli. I love Luca’s bad teeth in this too. Dental health is possibly one of the most obvious, yet most unremarked markers of social class. Nice detail.

TOG cast rating: 5/5 Luca really carries this film on his broaaaaad shoulders. Thank you Luca. Thank you Pietro, for making a movie that lingers so lovingly on Luca’s face, inspiring many a writer to pen horny paeans to the Roman nose and the Byzantine eyes. I even saw one about the lop of hair over the eyes. Yes….watching Luca is a very physiological experience.

They Call Me Jeeg (Lo Chiamavano Jeeg Robot)

My movie rating: 4 / 5

Ok this movie is quite male-gazey in the conventional action movie way. Moments where the damsel is in distress are filmed in a somewhat titillating manner. That aside, the damsel in distress does get a moment of glory, though it shortly precedes her death. The hero of the film I also found not too groundbreaking. He starts out as a thief but is given superpowers, and he’s mostly a sad loser who watches too much porn in his free time, though the damsel’s belief in him helps turn him around to the greater good. The story moves at a quick pace and with twists and turns at each corner which help the enjoyability rating.

Really, the standout of this movie is the villain. Fabio (Lo Zingaro) is fantastically deranged, in a style that surpasses the Joker. The only thing I truly have to say about this movie is that the moment where Lo Zingaro barges in on the hero and the camera POV switches from third person to first person and the hero is on the verge of fainting but all he sees is Lo Zingaro saying “Ciao”.........reader, I am speaking from the afterlife. Again, truly, there is no love for Luca Marinelli like the camera’s love for Luca Marinelli. My heart stopped when I saw Fabio’s face in such a tender, loving proximity...and yet...he is deranged...he wants to kill you….TAKE ME NOW FABIO I AM YOURS *lovelorn Victorian sigh*

Perhaps I might issue a CW that there is a trans character in the film. The character doesn’t appear for too long, and I think the portrayal is mostly neutral to borderline negative for playing to stereotypes. The damsel in distress’s story carries a huge TW for sexual abuse and incest.

TOG cast rating: 5/5 just for that 1st person POV scene alone--that was life changing. I did not expect to be greeted so intimately by a completely deranged motherfucker. I want it as my phone wallpaper.

A Bigger Splash

My movie rating: 4.5 / 5

I loooooooved Bigger Splash so much?? But this is because I love Tilda Swinton and I love Ralph Fiennes. While watching this, I don’t know why, but I just kept thinking, aaaaand this guy is also Voldemort (Fiennes). I love the implausibility and yet here we are.

Matthias is so boyfriend-shaped in this movie, I wanted to snuggle up against him and have him care for me. He’s a wonderful boyfriend, and Ralph Fiennes’s character truly, is the Most Annoying Mansplainer type ever, like, you’ve probably met that type, who thinks he’s slick and loves the sound of his own voice and I 100% related when Matthias’s character just...has had enough of Ralph Fiennes’s character. But oopsie, the rest is a spoiler.

THE SOUNDTRACK IS AWESOME also it’s got St Vincent covering the Rolling Stones and St Vincent is the lesbian guitar hero of your dreams, please give St Vincent more love.

TOG cast rating: 5 / 5 Matthias is butt naked in the opening scenes of the movie, and then he appears full frontal nude later on. But mostly he just looks so snuggly like a big boyfriend hoodie.

Rabat

My movie rating: 4 / 5

Wow ok I LOVED THIS ONE A LOT. Idk what I was expecting, but it was a beautiful, beautiful ride. It’s a perfect expression of the “roadtrip story” form. It’s got the adventure, the hijinks, the conflict and the “transformative growth” that comes out of the conflict. It’s about the MENA immigrant experience in Europe, and though from a different community as someone who’s had the immigrant experience myself I loved the part where they talk about people back home thinking they’re rich for having moved abroad. Yet--in many white-dominated countries, non-white immigrants live under an incredibly bulletproof glass ceiling and moving “upward” in society is a pipe dream. I loved when the main character Nadir mentions his dad’s taxi being a reliable source of income for the past 15 years. I think it’s such a warm and human film played by very warm and human characters, and [mild spoiler] I CACKLED SO MUCH at how Nadir “resolves” the question of marriage--I can’t go into too much detail bc the movie builds up to this but I LAUGHED SO MUCH. It’s the blend of total inappropriateness delivered in the most sincere package played to perfection.

TOG cast rating: 3/5 criminally underused Marwan bc he is not the main character. Marwan is a womanizing, alcohol-loving Tunisian friend in this story who buys a...bootleg? Hugo Boss suit for 200 Euros and then rips it up to form shorts bc the weather is too hot. The story implies he has a more complex backstory re: his relationship to his father as well as having impregnated a girl and escaping paternal responsibility for that but doesn’t give us much more. At one point, one character remarks that he would do “horrible” things (implying sexual interest) to Marwan’s character and ALAS I MUST AGREE.

...AAAAAND we’ll have more to come!! I promised a friend to watch Beale Street together so it’s gonna take a while for that to happen thx covid.

#the old guard #the old guard cast #tog cast #Gina Prince-Bythewood #luca marinelli #matthias schoenaerts #marwan kenzari #love and basketball #martin eden #a bigger splash #lo chiamavano jeeg robot #they call me jeeg #rabat

29 notes · View notes

jarienn972 · 4 years ago

Text

La Sirena - Chapter Two

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2020

Chapter Two of my @cssns is now here! I used Chapter One to set up each character’s POV of how they were brought together so this chapter will officially focus on their actual introduction as shipwreck survivor Lt. Killian Jones regains consciousness, discovering that he’s traded imprisonment on a pirate ship for a deserted paradise with a beautiful woman as his sole companion.

I have to thank all of the admins and creators of this fun event that allows all of us to stretch our creativity and I especially want to extend thanks for @kmomof4 for her wonderful beta and cheerleading assistance and to @courtorderedcake for the incredible artwork she created for this story!

This story can also be found on ff.net and AO3. Tumblr Chapter One

Chapter Two - Encountering an Angel

Killian woke with a jolt, body arching upright until his throbbing head protested. He sucked in a deep breath as he settled back to the ground, clutching at the sharp pains crisscrossing his rib cage. He felt as though he'd breathed in pure fire. Had he passed through purgatory straight to the flame and brimstone of hell?

No, no - he wasn't dead. Was he?

Bits and pieces of memory flashed within his mind. A map… That cursed island… Pirates… Escaping an abandoned, sinking ship… Clinging desperately to a makeshift raft of wooden planks until he'd slipped off into the depths. And then a cascade of pure gold beckoning him to paradise… or something like that.

But would the hereafter be this painful?

Pull yourself together, Jones. Use your wits.

He was still near the sea. The gentle lapping of waves against the shore and the squawk of seagulls sounded nearby. A wafting of crisp, salty air filled his nostrils as did the earthy scents of sand and rock. There was a solid surface beneath him. He'd made his way to land somehow, but where?

But when he dared open his eyes, even the diffused sunlight filtering through the canopy of palm fronds swaying overhead assaulted his vision. Squinting and shading his gaze with his outstretched hand, he allowed his pupils a few moments to adjust before rolling himself onto his right side and propping on an elbow to survey his surroundings. He spied the shoreline from where he lay yet he was a fair distance from the water's edge, sheltered amongst a grove of date palms, cycads and a few gnarled low trees that had branches laden with what appeared to be olives. A craggy outcrop of rocks was a short distance away and the stone barrier seemed to extend all the way out towards the sea.

He couldn't remember stumbling or even crawling this far from the shore. He barely recalled reaching the beach. He'd been so weak that he couldn't possibly have made it this far without assistance… All of his senses instantly went on full alert as he realized he must not be alone on this idyllic looking isle. Someone else was here but were they friend or foe? What a ridiculous question, Jones… Why spare your life if they intended to harm you?

His memory brought back hazy images of a woman's soft face framed by a halo of pale blonde hair just as his eyes drew skyward to gaze upon that same angelic visage looming above. Clad in a full length, flowing gown that was only a few shades paler than her porcelain skin, she had arrived as stealthily as a ghost. She eyed him quizzically, as though she were as surprised to see him alert as he was startled by her arrival.

He initially recoiled, not from fear, but rather from her abrupt appearance. Now that he was able to see her features clearly, he was transfixed by her ethereal beauty. Only a being sent from the heavens could ever be so lovely. Why this angel would ever want to aid such a broken man as him was beyond his comprehension.

Awake since dawn, she'd left the human's side for only a short while to catch some breakfast and to collect sweet water from the cavern spring. The man would likely be parched when he awakened but unlike her, he couldn't survive by drinking from the saline seas.

After he'd collapsed on the beach yesterday beside her tentacled form, she'd immediately transformed back to her humanoid self to drag his unconscious body away from the shore before the tide set in. He was heavier on land than he'd been in the water but she managed to pull him beneath the safety of the trees. She'd done her best to clean his wounds while he slept but with little knowledge of human physiology, she wasn't sure what else she could do.

She had remained close to him throughout the night, continuing to tend to his injuries as needed and to provide needed warmth. Never in her long life had she been in such intimate proximity to a human but every ounce of her being was insisting that this was where she was meant to be. Despite her species having been bred to lure humans to their demise, here she was seeking to save one of them.

The debris that she'd found him amongst was proof that he'd survived a shipwreck but she wasn't quite sure how. In the treacherous waters that surrounded these islands, no ship that sailed too close to the siren's cove could resist their call. For him to have been found alive, floating into her placid bay, he must have some special power. No man was immune to the siren song, yet here he was.

His sleep had been restless, which she had anticipated and attributed to his injury. The jagged laceration at his temple appeared to be the most serious but she assumed he could have wounds not visible on the surface. She was also concerned about the amount of seawater he may have swallowed. He'd spewed a fair portion when she'd rescued him but more could be lingering within his lungs as he was without the benefit of transformative gills. It would certainly bear watching once he awakened.

As she returned to the sheltered thicket carrying a ceramic jar of potable water, she was surprised to find him alert and staring directly at her face. In deference to her understanding of human modesty, she'd donned a simple, breezy, off-white linen column gown. It was horribly itchy but she feared overt nudity might offend her companion so she'd suffer for his sake.

She dipped her free hand into the water jug and withdrew an ancient, hammered copper cup that she extended towards him. "Drink," she instructed, firmly, yet politely, but the command wasn't spoken in English.

He quirked an eyebrow suspiciously until he could see that the cup contained water. He then softened his features and accepted the offering, gulping the contents a little too quickly in an attempt to quench his thirst. It was the first he'd ingested in at least a day and he was ever so thankful that it didn't smell or taste as though it had been drawn from the bilge tanks. But there was something strange to her statement - he'd understood her although his weary mind couldn't fathom why.

"Who are you?" she queried in that same familiar, yet foreign tongue.

His military training kicked in as he stammered out his rank and full, legal name. "Lieutenant… Lieutenant Killian Charles Arthur Jones…" He paused for a breath before adding the rest of his title. "Of His Majesty's Royal Navy. At your service, m'lady."

"Ah, English," the woman replied with a giggle as she switched to his language. "You didn't appear to be Greek."

"Greek?" he repeated, brow furrowed in confusion. "Was that what you just spoke?"

"It was, and I am surprised that you seemed to understand."

"I learned Ancient Greek in the Naval Academy, just not the conversational form. You speak both Ancient Greek and the King's English?"

"I speak many tongues, but Greek is native to me."

"So, is that where I've landed?"

"No, not exactly," she responded cryptically. "These isles owe their heritage to Greece, but they've no allegiance to that land any longer."

"What do you call this land then?" he pressed, trying to gather more information as to how far off-course his imprisonment by the pirates had taken him.

"No name you would recognize from any map or chart. Officially, these islands exist only within the world of myth and legend."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," he sighed, rubbing his aching head as he shifted his position onto his back. "How did I get here? Have I crossed over into the ever after with you as the angel welcoming me?"

"No, you are still amongst the living, Lieutenant Killian Charles Arthur Jones. You are still very weak from nearly drowning out there in the bay so you should rest to regain your strength."

"Aye…," he replied without argument. "But first, Killian will suffice. I've no need for formalities. It's just habit…" He broke off his sentence there, squeezing his eyes closed as he thought of the question he absolutely needed to ask but feared the answer. "Did anyone else reach these shores?"

"No, only yourself."

"Oh," was his dejected response as he turned his head away from her gaze. Neither dared elaborate as unspoken words weighed heavy but after a few moments of tense silence, he at last spoke up. "In my malaise, it would seem I've forgotten to ask for your name, lass."

The question elicited an odd response from her. She remained quiet far longer than he expected, as though she had to think about her reply. "No one has asked me that question in a very long time… My given name was Erimetha, but for simplicity's sake, you are welcome to call me Emma."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Emma," he said with a weak, pained smile crossing his lips.

"You should get more rest," she insisted. "I can see the exhaustion in your eyes but I promise, I will be here when you wake."

"You'll have no protest from me," he answered sluggishly as he allowed sleep to claim him once again.

**********

A few more hours of deep slumber had been much needed, allowing Killian's battered body and troubled mind to relax and try to heal. As he began to stir, the crackle of flames perked his ears right before he noted the acrid scent of wood smoke mixing with the marine air. His eyes looked skyward where beyond the canopy of palm fronds and olive branches, the heavens were awash with pastel tones while the twilight sun began its descent below the horizon.

Another day passed.

More than a week now passed since he'd debarked his ship for that ill-fated expedition.

More than a week passed since he'd last seen his brother.

Was Liam even searching for him? Did he believe his younger brother had perished? Did he know he'd been captured?

He didn't even have the slightest idea where he was so how could he expect Liam to locate him?

His audible, defeated sigh drew Emma's attention from the fire she was stoking.

"You seem quite distressed," she noted, to his chagrin.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that," he replied with clear irritation in his tone. "The events that have transpired over the course of this week have been rather overwhelming." He ignored the swell of nausea and the constant drumming within his skull to force himself into an upright, seated position. Muscles that hadn't been used since his escape from the pirate ship screamed in protest but he continued to push through all of the discomfort to look his alluring companion in the eye while she lowered herself to her knees.

She didn't wait for him to elaborate on whatever he'd endured, instead placing a woven reed basket onto the sand between them. "I thought you might be hungry," she said with an unassuming smile as she gave the basket a gentle push closer to him so he'd be able to inspect the contents. A quick glance downward revealed a bunch of bluish purple grapes, a few figs and a scattering of ripe green olives. "I have some freshly caught fish as well…"

"This is fine," he replied in a softened, more appreciative voice. "Best to take it easy so I don't lose my constitution, but thank you."

"I do believe you lost most of that constitution yesterday, but I absolutely understand," she chuckled, causing his cheeks to redden.

"Sorry about that… I really don't remember much after getting knocked off the ship's deck into the deep." He lowered his head with embarrassment. Vomiting in front of a beautiful woman was not generally the best first impression. He shyly reached for a handful of grapes, keeping his eyes averted as he popped one into his mouth, hopeful that the fruit would appease his growling stomach without further incident.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to further upset you," she replied as she slid further away from him. "It's been so long that I've clearly forgotten how to have a proper conversation…"

"You've no need to apologize," he retorted, extending his hand to grasp hers, staring into the melancholy of her emerald irises. "I am thankful for all you've done for this hapless sailor but is there no one else on this isle?"

"Not this far south. I chose this isolated isthmus long ago to escape others like me. It has been many years since I've had another creature to talk to who can actually talk back."

"You chose this isolation?" he repeated, incredulously.

"It was far preferable to what was expected of me…"

"Was it your family?" he pressed. "Were you unable to live up to what they required of you?" His curiosity was increasing with each inquiry, wondering if he might have more in common with this intriguing young woman. "Did you fall short of their expectations?"

"Not exactly," was her initial response, but she was caught unprepared by the introspective nature of his questioning. This human was proving he could be a kindred spirit in many ways but she wasn't ready to share. "Suffice it to say that I grew tired of their ideology and separated myself from their ways. It was best for all at the time."

He sensed there was so much more that she was holding back. His barrage of questions had opened a still-smarting wound and it was abundantly obvious that she wasn't ready to confide in him. Of course, if she had been alone on this shore for many years as she'd stated, it might be equally as long before he found rescue so there would be plenty of time to break down those walls. She'd saved his life. The least he could do in return was to help ease her troubles.

"You know, I'm a man who's spent a lifetime living in my brother's shadow, so if anyone understands what it is like to try to be something you're not, it would be me. Liam was always bigger, stronger, smarter… Graduated top of his class at the Naval Academy. Youngest ever Captain in His Majesty's Royal Navy. The bar was set pretty high and I was pushed to be just like him. I've never been good enough. I've worked hard to get where I am, but I'm not sure it's where I wanted to be… I took that stupid expedition into uncharted waters to prove that I was a leader and what happens? Pirates overtook us and most of my crew was slaughtered. The rest, myself included, were taken captive to be tortured and some were probably executed. Some leader I proved to be… I wish I'd never agreed to follow that cursed map!" He hung his head in shame, realizing that he shouldn't have unloaded so much baggage onto her. He didn't want her pity. "You must think I sound like a blabbering fool…"

"You sound like a man who's been trying to please his family rather than himself," she mused. "Perhaps fate brought you here to discover who you are?"

"You think this is the gods testing me?" he scoffed.

"If that is what you choose to believe."

"And you - were the gods testing you as well? Is that what caused our paths to cross here?"

"Perhaps more than you know," she replied cryptically as she pushed herself back up, brushing grains of loose sand from her gown as she stood. "It will be dark soon, but you will again be safe here for the evening. I shall leave the fruits here and you'll find the carafe of water there amongst the brush. Rest well, Killian."

"You as well, Emma."

He stared blankly at her departing silhouette as she strolled towards the flickering fire, the backlight of the flame giving her form an ethereal aura. Damn this woman! He might blame it on his concussion later but although he'd been coherent only a few scant hours, he was already entirely bewitched. He winced as his hand unconsciously rubbed the bruised and still raw skin adjacent to the gash at his forehead, momentarily speculating if this all might be some vivid hallucination or lucid dream.

Dream or not, he'd never experienced such a soulful connection with any person, yet alone any woman and it only solidified his desire to uncover her secrets. He'd gladly spend a lifetime trying.

#cssns #cssns20 #captain swan supernatural summer #cs ff #cs au ff #la sirena #siren emma

28 notes · View notes

ketchupcrisp · 5 years ago

Note

A query for #AskStrange: Was MCU Tony ever given the option of taking a more dominate role? Or maybe Im wondering how Tony and the Team decided he would only be subbing. I understand that the original Tony was a sub and for public appearance sake Tony would have to be submissive. But how did they know this Tony was completely a sub as well. Sorry if that makes no sense whatsoever or if I've complete missed something.

Absolutely no apologies are necessary, and you missed nothing! The decision for Stark to focus on submission during his D/s education was initially, as you noted, based on the fact of his needing to be able to convincingly perform the role in public. However, once the team decided to enter into a more genuine relationship, the decision to continue focusing on submission was mainly focused on the paperwork that he filled out. See below. (For reference, this vision takes place between chapters 20 and 21.)

(Author’s Note: I am so delighted this question got asked! I had a version of this scene written ages ago, but couldn’t make it work with Tony and Steve as our only POV characters in the main verse. Thank you, anon!)

*As the team’s handler, Phil had been selected to be the first to read and review the file Tony had sent over the previous afternoon. Given that spies were essentially professional snoops by nature, he had been undeniably relieved by the choice at first; now that he had the entire team staring at him, rapt and anxious, he was rethinking that reaction. He had held actual magical artifacts before that made him feel less like he held the fate of the universe in his grasp than he did right now.

Clint reached over and squeezed his hand. The pattern of calluses and small burns on his lover’s hand was familiar and comforting, and Phil returned the pressure gratefully.

“Let’s start with the…less good news. I know that all of us were anxious to find out to what extent these recent submissive episodes of Tony’s look to be signifiers of a pattern. The contract he sent over doesn’t contain enough information for me to feel comfortable making a call either way on that. Tony lacks experience and knowledge in many or most areas related to both sexual and non-sexual submission. He doesn’t seem to have any sense at all how he’ll respond to pain, for instance, or to what degree he’d be interested in practicing submission outside of isolated scenes.” The team deflated just slightly, as Phil had known they would. They all so desperately wanted some kind of evidence that they weren't forcing Tony into a mold that truly didn’t fit him that anything but decisive proof that he was a born submissive was always going to be a let down. “But he’s expressing a willingness to experiment with a wide range of options. His only current hard limits are scat, breathplay, and harsh humiliation. There are several other soft limits that you can review, and I’ve made a few notes about other scenarios I think we should avoid for the time being.”

“So he’s not saying no,” Clint summarized, “he’s just saying he doesn’t know what exactly his ‘yes’ is going to entail just yet.” Natasha stood up for a drink refill Coulson was certain she didn’t really need in order to drop a kiss on Clint’s head on her way by. It had taken Clint so long to start speaking up during conversations like this, whether at SHIELD or in their home. He had been so used to being looked down on or dismissed that he’d opted either to play the role of class clown or to stay silent altogether. Slowly, though, as Phil and the others had put the work in to show him how valuable his insights were, he’d started to speak up more and more. Phil loved him fiercely then, and felt grateful to remember that even with the future with Tony so uncertain.

“Exactly. He’s given us permission to help him explore and a few places to start. He makes no promises about where that exploration will lead, and if any of you require more solid information before deciding to proceed with a relationship with Tony then that’s fine, but you need to tell me now.” The room was silent, except for the sound of Thor taking a poorly timed bite of an apple that made several of them laugh nervously.

“What about the other side of things?” Bruce asked. “It was one thing not to explore much about Dominance when we were just talking about putting on a show, but if it’s going to be more than that then we shouldn’t make assumptions.”

“No, we shouldn’t, but to be honest I strongly doubt it’ll be an issue. He ranked almost every behaviour associated with Domination as something he wasn’t interested in trying. Some of that might be him trying to please us, so I think giving him a shot at Switching sometime down the road wouldn’t be a bad idea. But he seems to know a lot more about what he doesn’t want than what he does. The document contains very few notes, he mostly stuck to just checking the boxes boxes, but there were several cases, like delivering pain, where he wrote that he didn’t think he could even try being on the Dominant side of the equation.” Bruce frowned thoughtfully.

“That’s interesting, that he’d be so open to exploring submission and so sure that Domination isn’t for him.” Phil was fairly sure he knew where his partner’s mind was taking him, and he wondered the same thing. But Tony had made his position on having any blood taken extremely clear, and without proof that their universe might be impacting him on a physiological level, there simply was no point in wondering too much.

“Like I said, your point is still well taken, Bruce. But whatever his reasons are, right now Tony’s boundaries are extremely clear. So I think we respect what he’s saying he is and isn’t willing to take on right now, and we come back to some of the reasoning behind it at a later date. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” said several voices at once.

#you great unfinished symphony (you sent for me)#AskStrange #d/s au #interactive fic

4 notes · View notes

dicksoutformtl · 5 years ago

Text

Okay so I really don’t want to upset people with this ( if I do please tell me and I’ll take it down it tag it ) but,

Like I can’t stop thinking about Toki Wartooth, right? Well I have this au and if i could fuckin write well enough it starts as a SwkisTok story, the story starts with Toki and Skwisgaar being kids and meeting them slowly they start dating but as they get older Toki becomes more and more abusive. Not quite to the point of physical.. yet but more physiological and emotional abuse.

— In more detail its go into Tokis home life and how it’s really screwed him up as he grew older and understood more. As he gets older he becomes what he uses to fear and a whole physiological affects an stuff

But Swkisgaar stays cause this wasn’t how it used to be but he’s becoming more anxious and afraid of what’s to come. Tokis becoming more controling and angry so so angry. They end up moving to a remote but quiet little fishing village in Norway it’s got mountain forest types with lakes and all that jazz. It only spirals down going into detail about Toki ans Swkisgaar in their respective POVS.

Then one day an American man comes to the village and makes Skwisgaar realize how terrible things have become and it’s a long process to gain his trust hellong him with his fear of men etc etc

It’s Nathan and he is studying abroad somewhere in Norway, but ends up coming to this quiet remote village for his break maybe like summer or something. There’s not much to do here there is a few stores but lots of forest and lakes to hike into fish in etc. Which he enjoys a lot him and his dad went camping a lot and stuff like that in yellow stones an so on back in the states. So the story would be now is POV kinda telling you about his life what he’s up

Then the POV switches between Nathan ans Skwisgaar, when one day he comes across Swkisgaar pretty far off the path in the mountain forest area playing his really beat up acoustic guitar. Things happen and they slowly began to hit it off, skwisgaar doesn’t disclose much but is wondering why he doesn’t feel that uneasy quake in his stomach when he’s with his boyfriend Toki he feels not safe but not on edge or overly worried

— Time passes over the summer spring trip Nathan is on and they grow a pretty good bond considering all things, Nathan try’s to help Skwisgaar with hai problems but it’s hard when you don’t know exactly what they are ya know

Well POV changes to Toki and Skwisgaar again things get peak worst horrid things happen with small changes in POV to explain what goes on it ends with Toki leaving in a fit of rage thing have peaked escalated and Swkisgaar runs for his life. It goes to Nathan finding Swkisgaar and ultimately ends with them running off together and traveling around Europe.

By now it ends in being a Nategaar fic with Skwisgaar learning to trust, love, and depend on someone again without all the struggles etc etc. but Nathan’s here for the long run he’ll help in any way and it’s him learning to love and care for someone who endured abuse an all that.

If you want to keep it terrible Toki can come back and it can spiral from there, personally I like the happier ending with them being in a healthy happy relationship ans Nathan’s mom coddling Skwisgaar ans him just just thriving all is well ans happy

So uh yeah I can’t stop thinking about this au :// , @little-murmaider im gonna tag you because this is kinda what i wanted to tell you but like couldn’t come up with it atm when I sent my ask

#do i need to add a tw tag? i dont want to upset anyone so i tried to pussyfoot around any real details but i can tag it if needed #not sure if i should tag the ships?#mtl #metalocalypse #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #nathan explosion

2 notes · View notes

tarithenurse · 6 years ago

Text

Space Nurse 5/?

Fandom(s): Men in Black & MCU! Pairing: (Wait and see) x fem!reader Contents: Probably some cussing and slight bit of angsting. A/N: switching from 1st person PoV in the diary, we now get to enjoy some 2nd pers PoV “live action”! Leave me an ask or reblog to be added to the tag list...even if my writing will be slowing down considerably now that I have to prep for last internship’s exam.

From Nightingale to Sci-Fi

You’re unable to finish the breakfast due to the nauseating anticipation of what’s to come. Good thing you’ll be tending humans the first while, at least their physiology isn’t new to you. Nooo, only all the things they can suffer from in their line of work! You’re far from rested after having spent the entire night studying alien parasites and whatnot. It explains the frequent physicals they need to go through.

Abandoning your futile attempts at finishing the yoghurt with muesli, you stash the tray in the rack and turn around to head off only to nearly slam into the solid shape dressed in a black suit with matching tie which seems to soften and lighten his skin. Looking up into the smiling face of agent Jay, you gravity that tries to pull you stumbling backwards, minimizing the movement to a soft sway.

“Easy there, newbie,” Jay grins as he slips an arm around your waist to steady you, “didn’t mean to scare ya’.”

Slinking out of his steady hold (and tearing your gaze away from his endless eyes), it’s easy enough to deny his claim and if he doesn’t believe you…well at least he doesn’t say it.

“Spend most mornings trying to sneak up on…newbies?” The words fall testily over your lips.

When Jay smirks it makes his feathery moustache tremble. “Nah, only the one’s I’ve been told to assess.”

The two of you’ve started walking and you vaguely recognize the path that leads to the locker room. He’s a relatively tall man, at least compared to yourself and you’re not exactly the tiniest person. Even so, there’s nothing unsettling about walking next to him because nothing about his person carries the air of the other cold and anonymous agents you’ve encountered so far.

“There’ll be one from either bureau evaluatin’ ya work and skills every day. I’ve been tasked to represent Men in Black. Doctor Cho was supposed to be the delegation from Shield and –“

“Wait.” Pausing briefly to look at the friendly face to make sure you didn’t mishear. “There’re two fractions at play?”

By the time Jay finishes explaining about Strategic Homeland-something-or-other and Men in Black, your mind’s fuzzy with semi-political history. Your new acquaintance isn’t clear on who knew about the extra-terrestrials first, but it’s apparent that MiB have specialized on the field and it was a director of SHIELD, a guy called Fury, that arranged for a meeting to build a cooperation. One day, rumour goes, he was sitting in the office of “Alpha”, the chief of Jay’s organisation.

“So…I’m not actually part of neither Men in Black or SHIELD?” Pulling out a set of scrubs from an automated dispenser, you continue into the locker room.

Maybe he doesn’t notice, or he doesn’t care, because he follows dutifully. “Nah, durin’ the trial period y’are in neutral territory. Once assessed, we decide which agency ya’ll fit with, ya know…skills, temper, shit like tha’.”

“Don’t I have a say in it?” you ask, brows raised although he can’t see it because you’ve got the back to him and your head halfway into your locker.

Kicking off shoes, there’s no sign the man will leave, and you decide to change while he keeps talking.

“Ya want a say in – oh okay, we’re doin’ that!” You hear him shuffle about and a glance verifies that he’s turned away. “It’s not that I mind, ya see. Nothin’ wrong with…with…ahm…” The shadows of flailing hands doesn’t provide him with the needed vocabulary. “Aaaanyways! So…erm…well if ya got any preferences, we’ll be happy to hear ‘em.”

The scrubs from the hospital back home used to be white, maybe with navy leggings depending on the model, so it looks odd to you with the pastel yellow. I’m like an Easter chicken! Baggy pants and unshapely t-shirt, at least both have huge pockets for pens, notebooks with charts and vitals, and much more that you’ve come to learn is handy to have nearby during a shift. Pushing the locker-door shut with a dull clang, you straighten up and breathes in deeply in the hope that it’ll steady the nerves once and for all.

“Let’s do this.”

…

With doctor Helen Cho gone one of the people responsible for your introduction (though apparently only for a little while) is a young SHIELD-scientist although her expertise lies in biochemistry, making her less of an obvious choice to work in the infirmary in much the same way Helen’s focus on genetics does. But doctor Simmons in kind and brilliant, and she willingly explains that most of the doctors at this facility aren’t “ordinary” doctors due to the special needs any disease or injury related to extra-terrestrials require. As such, it’s up to you and the handful of other nurses to cover the gap between the professions.

No pressure. Sure, you’ve done your fair share of stiches and cleaning wounds...but you’re no surgeon, of course, and as your mind lists all the manners your expertise can be insufficient you feel your heart fall. Even though you’d been surprised to be offered this job (and since then shocked to find out what it entails), you don’t want to be deemed unworthy. Damnit, you bicker at yourself, if I gotta leave it’ll be me walking out as a protest.

…

You don’t leave that day. Instead, the time is spend doing regular checkups and collecting blood and urine samples from the many (human) employees that have been called in in advance. Some of the equipment might be fancier than at your old job, but the procedures are perfectly familiar, putting you at each and freeing your mind to make small talk with the military personnel which apparently are being checked these days.

A few of the faces are recognizable from the hallways or the cafeteria, there’s even a set of twins (whom you’ve assumed was actually just one very busy guy) that recognizes you from the gym. Red hair and brown eyes equally aflame with joy barely able to mask a glimmer of mischief when they each in turn offer you to join them for training or company at meal time. After seeing the second out, you take the liberty of noting down their names just in case you take them up on their offer.

And so, the day passes surprisingly quickly with you in one room together with the “patients” and agent Jay and doctor Simmons, the two people who has a power over your future, in the lab except when they decide to check up on you or stop by to give you a message. No one joins you for lunch, and by the time the day ends, you’re thankful that neither of the two leaves with you even if it means walking the halls alone.

…

You’ve had an hours rest before needing to be ready for the daily torture at the hands of the trio in charge of your training. Dragging your sorry ass and buzzing mind to the gym, getting insulted and yelled at is the last thing you feel like because even if the day technically speaking has been simple, getting used to a new work place is taking its toll mentally.

Dropping the little towel and water bottle in the treadmill’s holders, you know the first part of the training session you’ll be left mostly alone as long as you don’t run too slow. A few beeps with the buttons starts the preprogrammed, torturous, cardio workout.

15 minutes in, and your lungs are burning as though someone’s filled them with acid, forcing your body to work on anaerobic metabolism and sheer stubbornness. Breathe in while left-right-left, breathe out while right-left-right. On and on, the mantra drones while the empty gaze stays fixed on the barren wall at the other side of the room. Just a…bit more. You know you’re lying to yourself, but it’s easier to handle one more minute at a time than all 15 at once.

By the time the machine slows to a halt, some unknown deity must have taken pity on you to prevent your legs from giving out under you. Wiping the sweat away with the little towel (and stifling a groan of discouragement), the only goal is to drag out the time before one of the three buddies turns their attention to you.

“Hey, [Y/N]. Right?”

The cheery voice right behind you makes you snap around so fast you nearly trip yourself, and four hands shoot out to steady you. What was their names again?

“Woops,” the other twin smiles (or maybe it’s the same that spoke before), “didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Heh. Nono, you didn’t,” you lie with a half-hearted smile, “I was just erm…mentally far away.”

The one you think might be Sean looks solemnly around the boring gym. The place is styled á la minimalist institution with once-white concrete walls and linoleum in some uncanny greenish hue that looks more like mold than anything you ought to have indoors.

“Next time…please bring me along.” The sigh would seem honest if it wasn’t for the twinkle in the brown eyes.

“Oï!” Of course, his brother (possibly named Ian, depending on who’s who) isn’t about to miss out on anything as he elbows his way closer, sending maybe-Sean slightly off balance. “Anything particular in mind? Otherwise I’ll show you the good places around here, just say the word!”

Their enthusiasm and smiles are contagious, rekindling a happiness that has otherwise been dampened since you left home. You’re just about to answer, accepting the offer in the need of having some sort of friends in this foreign place, when Costa sidles over with a brow arched in disapproval. Clad in shorts and a sports bra, showing almost all of her toned body, you’re reminded of the inferior status thrust upon you – and for obvious reasons when it comes to physical prowess. If it was only that, at least. But no. Of course, this warrior-lady somehow manages to look gorgeous and be smart too, and a pang of mixed emotions in your chest prompts you to look away.

“What’ve we got here?” The slightly nasal Caribbean dialect is honeyed. Too honeyed. “The havoc-twins are trying to sabotage my recruit?”

“Ma’am, no, ma’am.” Both guys’ drain in the split second it takes before they answer in unison.

Smoldering eyes turn frosty, freezing the guys and you to the spot. “Good. I won’t tolerate anything but perfection, and if you mess with my work, I’ll make you regret it. We clear?!”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” You bite your tongue not to answer with Sean and Ian.

“You can have her when I’m done.” Costa’s words sends a new wave of heat to your cheeks for no reason you should be thinking of. “Now move.”

Watching the twins scurry off, you wait silently for the punishing rant that must be brewing for you.

Nothing.

No harsh words or degrading comments slip Costa’s lips while she instructs you on the use of some equipment meant to exercise arms and chest. Oh no, her punishment is way more refined, much crueler. From one machine to the next, she pushes you beyond the limits you thought you had in a gruelling manner where raw strength and endurance are brought to the test until you literally pass out, losing your grip on an elastic cord as you slump unto the floor. Weather it’s the sharp whip against your face from the equipment or the impact with the linoleum that wakes you, well that’s impossible to tell. Either way, it’s the burning humiliation that hurts the most as you try to focus on the face of your tormentor.

#Space Nurse #MiB #MCU #Men in Black #marvel cinematic universe #I'm waaaaaaaay too amused #writing #fanfiction #agent J #jemma simmons #SHIELD #Aliens?#extra-terrestrial #Crossover because why the fuck not #mib/mcu

21 notes · View notes

trinuviel · 6 years ago

Text

Winterfell’s Daughter. On Sansa Stark (part 9)

This is the 9th installment in my analysis of Sansa Stark’s narrative arc in Game of Thrones (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8). Season 2 is hard to watch because Sansa suffers so much abuse from the Lannisters. The most obvious is the physical abuse that Joffrey subjects her to. However, his mother Cersei is the architect behind the emotional abuse that Sansa suffers - she employs a more sophisticated approach but the wounds she inflicts are no less painful.

THE LITTLE DOVE AND THE LIONESS

As Joffrey’s betrothed, Sansa is the future daughter-in-law of Cersei - and Cersei pretty much embodies the mother-in-law from hell. In many respects, Cersei plays the part of the Wicked Stepmother in the twisted fairy tale that Sansa’s story has become. Cersei is subtle in her abuse of Sansa and we witness the first instance of this abuse at an uncomfortable dinner that Sansa has with Cersei and her two youngest children Tommen and Myrcella in ep02 where Cersei makes a point of reminding Sansa of her place as the hostage of a rebel king.

youtube

The scene starts with everyone dining in silence until Myrcella asks when Joffrey and Sansa are to be married. Myrcella beings to chatter about the new gowns she’s going to have for the wedding festivities and then she brings up Sansa’s wedding gown.

Mycella is much like Sansa before her world shattered, innocent and without malice but she is also completely oblivious chatters to Sansa’s feelings. Sansa just sits in silence with an agonized expression on her face whilst her future wedding is discussed, an event that she most definitely doesn’t look forward to.

Cersei, of course, immediately notices Sansa’s akward silence and starts prodding her to enter into the conversation:

Cersei: The princess just spoke to you.

Once again Sansa has to deliver her dishonest little spiel about how she cannot wait to wed the boy who is responsible for her father’s death and who has his guards abuse her physically.

Both Tommen and Myrcella are aware of Sansa’s situation: that her father was executed and that her brother is a rebel. However, they don’t seem to consider that Sansa might be unhappy. They don’t seem to take Sansa’s feelings into account at all during this dinner party. Their attitude doesn’t stem from malice but rather from thoughtlessness and a certain level of innocence (I don’t think they know that Joffrey has Sansa physically abused).

Cersei, however, is fully aware of Sansa’s grief and torment - and when Tommen asks an innocent question, Cersei uses this as an opportunity to remind Sansa of her status as the sister of a rebel king and as a political hostage:

Tommen: Is Joffrey going to kill Sansa’s brother?

Cersei: He might. Would you like that?

(Sansa drinks deeply)

Tommen: No. I don’t think so.

Cersei: Even if he does, Sansa will do her duty. Won’t you, Little Dove?

Cersei is subtly needling Sansa, reminding her that she is powerless and taking a fair bit of pleasure in the poor girl’s misery as Sansa fights to keep back her tears. Sansa has to suppress her grief over her father’s death. She cannot speak her mind and she is forced to repeatedly denounce her beloved mother and brother as traitors. Cersei is very aware of this and she seems to take a kind of twisted pleasure in Sansa’s misery. Throughout this season Sansa is extremely subdued in her reactions and careful when she speaks. This sometimes makes it a bit difficult to write about her because she’s a very internal character during the time she’s a hostage in King’s Landing. It is a credit to Sophie Turner’s talent as an actress that she is able to silently convey Sansa’s feelings solely through her body language and her facial expressions. Watching this scene, you do not doubt that she’s miserable and that she has to exert an enormous will power not to cry in front of her captors.

AN UNLIKELY FRIEND

The dinner scene with Cersei transitions into a scene in Sansa’s chambers where she gazes sadly at her own face in a blurry mirror, accompanied by a melancholy piece of music. Her sad musings are interrupted by Shae, Tyrion’s lover, who presents herself as Sansa’s new chambermaid.

Sansa is understandably suspicious - she has not been informed that she’ll get a new chambermaid and she also quickly deduces that Shae is not Westerosi. Furthermore, Shae obviously doesn’t know anything about the job and is kind of insolent. Sansa the berates Shae because Shae ought to know what her job entails. On the surface Sansa’s might appear a bit bratty but take a closer look at her face. Her eyes are wet. Her emotions are rubbed raw after that dinner, which was emotional torture for her with Cersei bringing up both the possibility of Robb’s death and the fact that Sansa has to marry Joffrey.

Sansa is close to tears at this point and she lashes out at the only available target – Shae, who not only acts suspiciously (from Sansa’s POV) but who also is a social inferior. However, the scene takes a surprising turn after this.

Shae: Do you want me to leave?

Minutes earlier Sansa said she didn’t want her hair brushed – but she is so lonely that a insolent stranger brushing her hair is better than being alone. In this context, it is worth emphasizing that having her hair brushed has special meaning for Sansa. It was something that her mother used to do for her as an act of affection and intimacy - and Sansa misses her mother desperately.

Sansa’s hair doesn’t really need brushing but she’s sad, alone and tired – and having her hair brushed is soothing. This act also marks the beginning of Sansa and Shae’s relationship, a relationship that deepens into genuine affection. This may not be the most auspicious beginning to their relationship but Sansa and Shae develop a friendship to the extent that Sansa trusts Shae enough to express her opinions freely, which I noted in my previous post.

However, it is in ep07 that we see how much Shae actually has come to care for Sansa. The scene in question is the one where Sansa gets her first period. This is a deeply traumatic experience for Sansa, especially since it comes right after a nightmare about the sexual assault she suffered during the Bread Riot. I have previously criticized the fact that the show didn’t bring up Sansa’s assault during her conversation with Shae in the aftermath of the violent events in King’s Landing. However, by including Sansa’s nightmare, the show does hint that Sansa has an unprocessed trauma regarding the assault she suffered. The fact that Sansa discovers that she’s gotten her period right after this nightmare links the onset of her physical maturation with the sexual trauma that she’s been subjected to.

Sansa reacts with despair and absolute panic - and Sophie really delivers a wonderful performance in this scene. Sansa is in a state of panic because she knows that she’s now eligible for marriage to Joffrey by Lannister standards. Theoretically, she is not able to become pregnant and a royal consort’s first duty is to produce heirs to the throne. However, the prospect of marriage to Joffrey has become a nightmare for Sansa. That is why she desperately tries to conceal the evidence by attempting to cut away the bloodied portion from her bed sheet.

When Shae enters the room and sees what has happened, she immediately goes to help Sansa - suggesting that they flip the mattress to hide the evidence of her period.

Sadly, their attempt is foiled when another chambermaid arrives, sees what they’re doing and then immediately leaves to inform Cersei what has happened. This is where we get to see exactly how fierce Shae can be in her defense of Sansa. Shae follows the other chambermaid, puts knife to her throat and threatens her into silence.

Sadly, Shae’s efforts are in vain because when she returns to Sansa’s chamber, she’s confronted by the fact that Sansa has been found out - by Sandor Clegane of all people! The presence of the Hound is rather odd - and we never get any explanation of how exactly he came to be in Sansa’s chambers.

However, the end result is that Cersei is informed that Sansa is now a woman, physiologically at least, which is all that the Lannisters really care about: that she has become fertile.

A PIECE OF WOMANLY “WISDOM”

The following scene takes place in Cersei’s chambers where she takes on a maternal role, educating Sansa about the messy realities of a woman’s life when it comes to childbirth. Interestingly, Cersei appears somewhat sympathetic to Sansa here, which is a stark contrast to how she acted towards Sansa in the previous dinner scene.

Cersei actually does what Catelyn would have done if the situation had been normal, which the show actually alludes to in the dialogue:

Cersei: Your mother might have prepared you. You flowered, my dear. Nothing more.

Sansa: My mother told me, but I thought it would be different.

Cersei: In what way?

Sansa: I thought it would be less… less messy.

Cersei: Wait until you birth a child. You’re a woman now. Do you have any idea of what that means?

Sansa: I’m fit to bear children for the king.

Cersei: A prospect that once delighted you, bringing little princes and princesses into the world, the greatest honour for a queen.

Despite her sympathetic attitude Cersei can’t help to make a little jab at Sansa, mocking her for her youthful infatuation with Joffrey before he had her father killed. At this point Sansa lowers her gaze, not giving Cersei the opportunity to read her face - and when Cersei mentions that birthing children is the greatest honour for a queen, Sansa quietly nods whilst she visibly swallows. As the previous scene showed us, the thought of having to sleep with and give Joffrey children has now become a nightmare.

After a short silence where the camera switches between medium close-ups of Cersei and Sansa, Cersei is surprisingly honest with Sansa about Joffrey:

Cersei: Joffrey has always been difficult. Even his birth, I labored a day and a half to bring him into this world. You cannot imagine the pain.

Cersei reminisces about how her husband would flee to the Kingswood whenever she was in labour whilst Jaime wouldn’t be kept away from her birthing bed - and then she warns Sansa:

Cersei: Joffrey will show you no such devotion. You may never love the king, but you will love his children.

Sansa: I love His Grace with all my heart.

Cersei: That’s so very touching to hear.

Once again we see Sansa delivering her little spiel about how much she loves Joffrey. She doesn’t let down her guard, even if Cersei appears somewhat sympathetic. This is also the reason why Sansa is so subdued in this scene. She doesn’t trust Cersei, she knows that just a slip of the tongue can get her into trouble because even though Cersei is no Joffrey, she is still one of Sansa’s tormentors.

Cersei: Permit me to share some womanly wisdom with you on this very special day. The more people you love, the weaker you are. You’ll do things for them that you know you shouldn’t do. You’ll act the fool to make them happy, to keep them safe. Love no one but your children. On that front, a mother has no choice.

Sansa: Shouldn’t I love Joffrey, Your Grace?

Cersei: You can try, Little Dove.

That last exchange is different from the rest of the scene. So far Sansa has been very subdued, she doesn’t trust Cersei but I think that she’s confused and unsure how to respond to this “womanly wisdom” that Cersei shares with her. Cersei’s acknowlegding that Joffrey is “difficult” (an understatement!) throws Sansa because she never expected Cersei admitting that her precious son is not a perfect prince.

I find this scene rather interesting because, unlike the dinner scene, Cersei doesn’t torment Sansa here. Rather she thinks that she giving out sound advice to her future daughter-in-law. However, Cersei’s advice about not loving anyone but your children reflects her toxic world view. Loving people is not a weakness, it is the repudiation of love and compassion that is the weakness.

IN THE ABSENCE OF HER MOTHER

An interesting thing about Sansa’s season 2 arc is the fact that the show places her scenes with Cersei and Shae in close proximity to each other. In fact, her scenes with both women always directly follow one another. This narrative structure invites the audience to compare and contrast how the two women interact with Sansa and this is incredibly important since these are the only women that Sansa has significant relationships with in season 2.

Cersei is a source of torment for Sansa but also a kind of toxic mentor who “educates” Sansa about the reality of a woman’s life in the patriarchal order of Westeros. Shae is a woman who becomes an ally, a source of comfort but also someone who educates Sansa about aspects of life that Sansa has been blind to: mainly the plight of the common folk (after the bread riot in ep06). Cersei plays the role of an evil step-mother in Sansa’s life whereas Shae becomes a confidante and a friend.

However, I also think that there’s a maternal subtext to Shae’s relationship with Sansa. This maternal aspect to Shae’s interactions with Sansa begins with her brushing Sansa’s hair - something that the show (and the books) explicitly connects to Sansa’s relationship with her mother Catelyn. Furthermore, the fierceness with which Shae tries to protect Sansa also subtly evokes Catelyn’s fierceness when it comes to the safety of her children.

On the show Shae is very different from her book incarnation, where she’s portrayed as petty and avaricious. Personally, I rather like this change. GRRM has a couple of blindspots and one of those is the complete lack of positive female relationships! I cannot think of a single relationship between two women that is depicted in positive terms in the entire series - so I am perfectly fine with the showrunners creating a positive and caring relationship between Sansa and Shae. Sansa may be Shae’s social superior but Shae provides Sansa with emotional comfort and a kind of maternal care that she sorely lacks. As previously said, the narrative structuring of Sansa’s scenes with both Cersei and Shae highlights how the two women acts as stand-ins for Sansa’s absent mother Catelyn. Cersei takes the role of the evil step-mother whereas Shae provides some of the emotional comfort that Sansa so desperately needs.

To be continued...

(GIFs not mine)

#game of thrones #sansa stark #character analysis #cersei lannister #shae #winterfell's daughter

193 notes · View notes

jessicanjpa · 7 years ago

Text

Into the Sunset

Finally done the Jasper one-shot I’ve been working on! It got pretty long but I’m still posting it here as promised. Since I rarely write post-BD I ended up including lots of little headcanons that nicely accompany the storyline. Enjoy :)

Summary: Ten years after Breaking Dawn, Jasper’s life is fuller than he ever could have imagined. But there’s one dream he’s held close to his heart this whole time: to ride a horse again.

Rating: T Word Count: 7k

Jasper POV

It was strange enough that Renesmee and Jacob had invited Alice and me out to their place to hunt, and nobody else. But the real mystery was Alice’s level of anticipation.

“No, no! The blue one!” She snatched the shirt I had chosen out of my hands, instantly replacing it with one of her twenty-seven favorite shirts and looking up at me with the golden eyes she knew I couldn’t resist. “Please?”

I side-grinned and reached back up into the closet without looking, letting my fingers rest on a button-down dress shirt that I knew would offend her color scheme for today. “What’ll you give me?”

The next thing I knew she had me scrunched into the darkest corner of the closet, pinning me to the wall with a kiss. “I’ll give you nothing if you don’t wear it,” she threatened softly, her voice tickling my ear. I closed my eyes for just a second, reveling in her desire, then donned the blue shirt.

“You’re a tough negotiator, ma’am,” I grumbled cheerfully, following her into the bathroom. She was already rummaging deep into her “blue tones” makeup bag. I folded my arms and leaned against the wall for a time, watching her with amusement as her excitement bubbled over into a fever pitch. Gift or not, the fact that she was doing her makeup at human speed was a dead giveaway.

“So?”

“So what?”

“So what’s the surprise?”

She glanced at me in the mirror. “There’s no surprise, why?”

I smiled at her reflection and pulled away from the wall, swaggering closer. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, bending to kiss the side of her neck. “You’re a terrible liar,” I said in her ear, willing her to relax. “That’s one of the things I love most about you, you know.”

“I know,” she said lightly, wringing one hand free to finish her makeup.

“What’s the surprise?” I asked again, pulling at her resistance more with every second.

She ignored me at first, but then spun around in my arms. “Don’t you dare! Nessie’s been working on this for… hmph.” She clamped her mouth shut, growling deep in her throat.

I chuckled, releasing her fully. “Well now we’re getting somewhere.”

“And you’re really going to love it, so no more cheating, if you please.” Her excitement softened, blending with some of the ingredients her love for me was made of. We rested our palms together and then pulled them away, leaving only our fingertips touching. We merely stared for what felt like our own private eternity, making love in that deeper language that barely requires any touch at all. I finally drew her closer.

“I put on the blue shirt,” I reminded her softly. She reached up in slow motion to finger the collar, lifting her face to ask for a kiss.

“So you did.”

We took the Ducati out to Renesmee and Jacob’s place. It was still running like it had when it was new… better, actually. Rosalie had kept up her usual regimen, and I had made a few adjustments myself. This had to be the best bike I had ever owned, and I had owned quite a few over the years. It handled “like a dream,” as Rosalie liked to put it, and as a scrambler, it couldn’t be beat.

I had never much liked riding inside a regular vehicle. Everything was too cramped, too crowded, and far too loud and smelly. And if you wanted to go off road, then what? Motorcycles were as close as I’d ever get to being on horseback again. Give me a vehicle that springs to life at the lightest touch. That leaves me feeling free, leaves the stink of the machinery far behind. There wasn’t much to be done about the noise, but the Ducati purred like a cougar, and that was good enough for me.

I’d tried the real thing a couple of times—riding a horse—once when I was new and once after switching to animal blood. The first attempt went pretty badly, since I was still so wild. The horse spooked almost immediately, which made me all the more desperate to make it work. It went downhill from there, ending in a classic newborn temper tantrum that left me with a dead horse, two dead “siblings,” and a lot of explaining to do.

I decided to try again back in the seventies when I was out alone one day. According to Peter, my scent had mellowed somewhat by the time he and Charlotte first met the family in ’69. His theory was that the animal diet was diluting my scent along with my strength… according to him, a sure sign of a bad end to come. Of how it just wasn’t meant to be. Well, I hadn’t noticed myself smelling any different, and even if I did, Carlisle had all kinds of hypotheses about how our scents worked themselves out physiologically. It wasn’t necessarily the blood. Regardless, I figured that if Peter was right, then I might have better luck with the horse thing.

So I tried again. I even waited until the clouds had winked out the direct sunlight, just in case that had been part of the problem before. I took my time inching closer, and at first it seemed all right, but when I was within twenty feet it started sidestepping away. Every time I moved, it moved. I finally gave up and made a jump for it. For a few exciting rodeo moments I thought it was going to work out, but it didn’t. The horse calmed down, but its heart rate was dangerously high, and it was shivering in terror. Never mind going anywhere. I finally took pity on the poor thing and made myself scarce.

Alice had never said anything about it. I still didn’t know if she had been watching right then. But I had told her, back in that first couple of years alone together, how much I missed riding. She hadn’t really understood. How could she? It really was a shame, though. What I wouldn’t give to ride again. To fly past the horizon with the feel of the wind in my hair… the soft drumbeat of hooves the only sound in the whole world. To feel that synergy my horse Patch and I had felt in my human days, how we would become one in a sense, almost reading each other’s thoughts, whether we were saving each other’s lives in battle or just racing toward the sunset. The friendship, even. Many of my most vivid human memories were of Patch: bringing him into the world just as the mare died, riding alone or with the others, or whispering my worries and dreams to him in the moonlight when the rest of my regiment was asleep.

I had asked Maria, after that first attempt, if she thought we could transform horses. She said she had tried changing a couple animals before, but that it hadn’t worked. It had been of our friendlier conversations, laughing over the possibilities: red-eyed horses leaping over buildings, cute little rabbits who could take down a human, wrestling matches with vampire alligators, things like that. But the bottom line was, I’d never ride again, and that was a hard blow.

“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” Alice scolded me, anxiously holding herself out to the right as I took a curve at an ungodly speed. I guess my reminiscing had been playing itself out. I laughed and gunned it into the next curve. She shrieked and leaned out in the opposite direction—as if her weight would do anything! She wasn’t scared of going off the cliff or wrecking the bike; she was afraid I’d ruin her outfit before Renesmee got to see it. But she loved it, too. We both did.

“Maybe,” I admitted, not at all sorry. This was as close as I’d ever get to my wish: even more than the riding itself, this was what I wanted. To feel her snug behind me as I rode, gripping her slender arms around me, lining her legs up with mine as we explored whatever was over the next hill. To feel her pressing closer when she decided to get scared, even shrieking in my ear to slow down when we both knew she wanted me to go faster.

I finally left the road to cut the last corner off our trip, earning myself another round of scolding when the mud finally found us. I thought, for just a second, about risking the little ridge off to the west that would give us a particularly beautiful view of Renesmee’s property, but it really was too steep and too muddy today. I didn’t want to push my luck, particularly when it came to muddying The Outfit, because there’d be hell to pay. It was the latest of Alice’s creations that would be kicking off her new online boutique. Renesmee was only the website manager, but that didn’t stop her from chattering over designs with her boss.

This was the first time Renesmee and Jacob had lived apart from the family. When they had first married back in Oregon, Esme had presented them with a cottage that was the twin of the new one she had built for Edward and Bella. But when we had moved here to Colorado they had decided to live a little closer to town than we cared to, and it was obvious they wanted a little more space from everyone. Jacob, especially, had been itching to open his own garage. Half his customers were from out of town anyway, bringing their rusty old classics for restoration, but he still preferred that small-town feel of having plenty of business on a first-name basis.

We slowed as we passed the row of farms next to theirs. The air was filled with the rich aromas of growing crops and animals, as well as the accompanying humans. I swallowed the venom, reminding myself that I had gone almost twenty years now… a new record. Besides, I didn’t think Renesmee would appreciate me snacking on her neighbors. She and Jacob were actually friends with them.

Her property finally came into view. They had bought an abandoned farm at the end of the road, situated just past the end of the pavement. Easy directions for the human guests to remember, and it was less than a quarter mile from the edge of the woods. I took a deep sniff over toward the trees to see what my dinner might be, but the farm smells were too overwhelming. To say nothing of the ripe stink of werewolf. My longing to visit the next-door-neighbors to borrow a cup of blood was gone instantly.

The buildings seemed to be in pretty good shape, thanks to Esme, no doubt. Alice and I were the last ones to come out here. We hadn’t meant to wait so long, but whenever we had tried to plan a visit, things had kept coming up. But they usually came over to see everyone at once anyway.

I wondered what this surprise was. I wasn’t usually the one getting presents; everyone knew I didn’t like collecting useless junk. Knowing Renesmee, it was probably a trip to see some little piece of history she had discovered: a preserved 19th-century log cabin, a little out-of-the-way museum, maybe something to do with one of the Native American tribes that used to live here.

Renesmee and I had a special bond, going back to her second year. I hadn’t known what to do with her when she was a baby, and truth be told, I was still watchful for something to go wrong. She was all kinds of unnatural. Each time she had one of those impossible growth spurts, physical or mental, my instincts had shivered even as I smiled along with everyone else… and I wasn’t the only one. We were well past the danger of Bella giving birth to a monster, but that didn’t mean everything would be smooth sailing from then on out, especially when it came to her self-control. But like the others, I was consistently blown away by how well things were going. There would be problems later on when she hit age six, but nothing outrageous.

Still, in that first year, I hadn’t interacted with her too much. I wasn’t really the dolls-and-tea-party type of uncle, even if those tea parties including giggly recitations of Georgian-era literature. And she had changed a bit after the confrontation with the Volturi; nearly having your whole family executed because of your existence will do that to a kid. She wasn’t afraid of me after that, exactly, but my scars were an uncomfortable reminder that I had once belonged to the darker side of the vampire world… the one she had brushed a little too closely against. I often caught her staring at them. And though I tried not to do it, she had sometimes caught me hanging back when the others gathered close and fussed and cooed over her latest stroke of genius. I think she knew that I was generally a little less safe than the others, even then.

But she had also won my heart, there was no denying it. Ever since meeting Alice, my life had been one of good surprises, and the fact that my niece could even exist was just the latest one. But it was more than that; she seemed to have a way of thinking and feeling that full vampires didn’t. I could sometimes feel her backtracking as she soaked up new knowledge, so easily rearranging her opinions and feelings about things. She belonged in so many different worlds all at once… it gave her a unique ability to see different perspectives and react accordingly, and I admired that. That, more than anything, was what finally put me at ease when it came to her future. Renesmee seemed to notice the change, and began asking me to do little things with her: teach her to play chess, explain a word in a book she was reading, come hunting when it was just her and Bella. That last one was a little sad, because I could feel the anxiety behind her request, but I was happy to grant it. And there was something irresistible about a kid of any species tugging on your shirtsleeve, silently asking you to bend down so she could ask you a question via her telepathic gift.

Then one evening, when we happened to be alone in the living room, I had caught her studying me in that tilted-head puzzlement that all our kind tended towards. I asked her what was on her mind, and, after a few moments of thought and indecision, she said she had been wondering if I had owned any slaves back when I was human.

I was a little taken aback, because it was a topic that didn’t come up often. History was certainly one of my favorite pastimes, and we were all old enough for our own memories to qualify as “history,” so there was often plenty of chatter in the house about various eras and countries and movements and things. There were some taboo items, based on personal prerogative and on the fact that there was a child listening now. My participation in the Civil War wasn’t really one of them, but by this point it had all been said, and the others had usually tiptoed around the messier parts of my past. I didn’t see the point, but it made them more comfortable, so I let it be. Carlisle was usually the one I was discussing history at length with anyway, and those discussions were usually theoretical.

So I was impressed, as adults often are with children, that she had skipped right over the rules and flat out asked me what she wanted to know. I responded in kind, launching into an hour-long lecture about cultural incapacity and its ugly role in American history… and in my own. She listened without interruption, soaking it all in until Edward finally came downstairs, radiating disapproval and telling Renesmee it was past her bedtime.

“She's just a child,” he muttered under his breath when she had gone upstairs to tell everyone goodnight. “Couldn’t you have toned it down a bit?”

“She’s never been just a child,” I shot back, loud enough for her to hear. “Give her some credit.”

I had officially won Renesmee’s trust that night: trust that I wouldn’t baby her like the others did sometimes, at least when it came to answering her questions. Whenever she realized that something was being kept from her, or felt smothered by the village that was raising her, I was quick to take her side. Sometimes, in her older years, I was the one to find her when she had run off for a cry, to sit in companionable silence until she was ready to talk, if she wanted to. When it was a true matter of safety, I would sometimes turn traitor to the cause, but I was usually forgiven.

Back in the months that had followed after that first evening lecture, Renesmee’s play-learning evolved into more organized studies. Each member of the family, and occasionally some of the Quileutes, took over the tutoring in various subjects: science with Carlisle, art with Alice, literature with Bella, and so on. I took on history and sociology. That second year of her life—our last in Forks—was a special time for the family, where most of us physically retreated from the human world to focus on what was truly important.

But that time also brought us closer to the human world, in a way, as we all scrambled to more fully understand the subjects we were supposedly experts in. I had already enjoyed reading about world history, but now I was obliged to get caught up and take more than a passing interest in current affairs for her sake. And while I still couldn’t muster much enthusiasm beyond the theoretical for myself, it was a wonder to watch her sponge-like little mind unfold and open to understand the larger world she lived in. To help form that understanding… help prepare her to become a part of that world when the time was right. Because it was soon obvious that Renesmee would have both the freedom and the desire to move freely out in that world, and to truly be a part of it in her own way. She would always be a part of the family, and in some ways the center of that family, but she was also half-human. She belonged in their world as much as she did in ours. Even now, she was just beginning to spread those wings. The property she and Jacob had taken, technically in town but on the edge, was a pretty accurate representation of that commencement.

“Hey guys!” she called from the front door as we walked up. She leapt off the porch and dashed up to meet us, her Edward-colored curls bouncing to keep up with her. I smiled to feel her unique love and stood back while she and Alice did their usual high-pitched fussing over hair, clothes, etc., then I got my hug. She was being careful not to touch my skin. She squeezed me an extra second, then pulled away with a mischievous grin. “We’ve got a surprise for you, Jazz.”

“For me?” I echoed, feigning a double take.

“Liar,” she pouted, turning to Alice. “You told him, didn’t you?”

Alice shook her head, glaring up at me. “No, but he did weasel it out of me that the surprise was from you.”

“Shame,” Renesmee scolded me, sliding over to Alice’s side in conspiracy. “I think we should make him wait just for that, don’t you?”

“No way,” Alice protested. “You know I can’t keep a secret this big for very long.”

Now they really had me interested. A quick trip to a historical site didn’t qualify as a big surprise. I reached for Renesmee’s hand to sneak a peek into her mind, moving slowly enough for her to dart away if she chose, which she did.

“Oh no you don’t! Dinner first. JAKE!” she called back toward the barn. Alice and I followed her over to where Jacob was just closing up shop. I recognized Esme’s handiwork, since she had worked on the blueprints and sketches back at home when she had been restoring the barn. Jacob closed the hood of a sparkling black Mustang and raised a grimy hand in greeting.

“Hey bloodsuckers,” he called out cheerfully.

“Well, if it isn’t the family dog,” I called back, grinning. We exchanged our usual nods—our interspecies version of a high five. No point in getting smellier than we had to.

“So what do you think?” he asked, wiping off his hands and joining us out in the wide driveway.

“Good country. Seems like the perfect spot,” I answered, nodding over toward the woods. “Are you getting enough business way out here?”

“It’s slow,” he admitted, glancing sheepishly out at the empty parking spaces Esme had delegated to Emmett during the renovation. “But I’m just getting started, and half my customers so far are from out of town anyway. There’s an old run-down body shop in town, so I’m not trying to step on any toes. So,” he added, waggling his eyebrows. “Figured it out yet?”

“You’re in on this too?”

“Everyone’s in on it,” he teased, wrapping a meaty arm around Renesmee’s shoulders as she and Alice caught up. She was buzzing with excitement now, just like Alice was. Even Jacob was eager to get this going. “C’mon, let��s hunt.” He gave his bride a peck on the cheek and disappeared around the back of the barn, taking off his shirt as he went. Renesmee watched after him for a moment, braiding her hair into a quick rope down her back and tying it off. She seemed happy. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed having her, and even Jacob, around.

We sprinted for the woods, joined a moment later by the enormous russet-red wolf that had truly earned a place in the Cullen family. Renesmee somersaulted through the air to land on his back, and off they went in their own direction. Alice and I shared a nostalgic smile, glad to see that some things hadn’t changed.

Alice didn’t feed; she was too worked up. I made short work of a black-tailed deer, just enough to take the edge off in case the surprise involved human company. Instead of burying the corpse I let out a shrill whistle, letting Jacob know where I was in case he wanted to have the meat. He showed up in less than a minute, wolfing down the biggest chunks while Alice and I gave him some space. When Renesmee found us and the carcass was buried, we returned to the farm, taking our time while Jacob went ahead to change. It was a cloudy afternoon with a strong breeze coming down from the hills.

“Over here,” Renesmee said once Jacob was back, steering us toward the town. But we slowed to a stop as soon as we hit the next farm. The strong scent of horse overpowered the other smells, and no wonder; the back of their property was outlined with electrical fencing designed to keep in the residents. I counted five horses grazing contentedly, and was pretty sure there were at least three more non-human heartbeats coming from the stables. “They’re boarders,” Renesmee explained, going off to the right to follow the fencing. The horses perked up as one by one they noticed our presence. Two of them shied almost immediately, heading to the spot farthest away.

Renesmee took a running leap over the fence, motioning for us all to follow her. “It’s all right, they’re not home.”

Two of the three remaining horses got pretty upset to see and smell a line of monsters jumping into their backyard. But I almost didn’t care; it just felt so… right, to be standing here inside the fence and the cloud of horsey scent, hearing the soft hoofbeats on the grass and dirt.

“They look well cared for,” I murmured, running my hand along a stretch of real railroad tie fence that ran to the main gate. The weathered wood felt familiar. I could never live this close to humans… but what I wouldn’t give to have this next door. Maybe this was why Renesmee had chosen this particular property? She had always loved animals in a little-girl kind of way. Her room had gone through all kinds of phases: horse posters, unicorn figurines, intricate butterfly drawings, a dozen stuffed wolves, you name it. She had gone through dozens of pets, half of which had somehow ended up living at the main house. When she was five and visited the Amazon Coven, she had come back and redone her room into a mini-rainforest, complete with wildlife. When she tired of our history lessons she had always pestered me for stories about my adventures with Patch. I had to make most of them up, since I’d run out of real ones so soon. I could definitely see her picking this place just for the horses next door.

Alice tugged at my arm gently. “Let’s take a closer look.”

I shook my head. “Won’t work, darlin’. They’re like deer; our scent is just too much for them. If we keep still for a while they might get back to grazing.”

We held still for several minutes, and sure enough, the horses timidly came back out. There was one who had stood his ground the whole time, though he had also been the farthest away to begin with. He actually meandered closer as he grazed, seemingly unimpressed by our intrusion.

“That’s a brave one,” I said softly, pointing him out to the others.

“Yeah,” Renesmee said. Then she held out her hand toward him. “Here, Thunder. C’mere boy…”

And that horse came, just as calm as you please. He trotted right up to her and nuzzled her hand like he was looking for a treat. She scratched under his chin, smiling back at me.

I let out a low whistle. “I don’t believe it. I knew animals were a little easier around you, but this…”

“Oh, we’re old friends,” she said with a sparkle in her eye. The feeling of eagerness that had been bouncing around between her, Alice, and Jacob spiked suddenly. “Why don’t you come say hello?”

“I wish I could, Ness. But I’ve tried before.”

Alice tugged at my arm again, harder this time. “I know you have. Come on.”

I didn’t want to break the fence, so I let me pull me forward. Thunder shied a little as we drew closer, but he didn’t jump away like he should.

“Take it slow,” Jacob suggested.

I didn’t understand it. We inched closer, and Thunder was alert and watchful, but he just didn’t seem to be afraid at all. Soon I was standing right in front of him, his big dark eyes staring right into mine from under long lashes. I slowly reached up and laid my hand on his neck. He shivered once, flicking his tail, but stayed still. In fact, he seemed to lose interest in me altogether, snorting over toward Renesmee as if to scold her for the treat sham.

“I think he likes you,” Alice pronounced with authority. I just shook my head in wonder, stroking the warm, shining coat. He was a little smaller than the Saddlebreds and Walkers that had been so popular back in my day, but he was broad and well-muscled… a glistening seal brown all over, with just one white sock. I dared to reach even higher, and he lowered his head obligingly so I could rub his forehead. His huge heart thudded on without a hitch. I let my fingers tangle in his forelock, scratching him between the ears like I used to do with Patch. I turned to Renesmee.

“How…?”

She shrugged, but she was beaming inside and out. “I guess when a horse grows up next door to a vampire hybrid and a werewolf, he’s kind of over the scent thing. I’ll explain more later, Jazz. Why don’t you take him for a ride?”

I dropped my hand. “Now that’s—”

“Would you stop looking a gift horse in the mouth?” Jacob grunted. “Go get the damn saddle.”

“Second one from the right,” Renesmee added. “And you’ll want to look in the cupboard just overhead.”

“It won’t work,” I insisted.

“Yes it will,” Alice laughed. “And we have all afternoon, and then some.” She felt truly confident, and full of relief and happiness as she watched me. Unbelievable.

I ran my hand down his neck once more, then gently took hold of the rope bridle. He didn’t budge.

“Stables, Thunder,” Renesmee said softly. “Go on now.”

It was like magic. He shook his head once in disapproval, but he didn’t really try to shake me off. He came easily, nodding and looking back at the other horses. They moved further away as we passed.

I didn’t want to take him inside, where my scent would be too much in the still air. As I had expected, the two horses that had been hiding in their stalls took one sniff and headed out to pasture. Still, they hadn’t really bolted, and Thunder himself seemed right at home, having followed me halfway inside. I was the one who was overwhelmed by the scent, not him; the air was heavy with molding hay and horse manure. It made me feel like the sixteen-year-old human I had been so very long ago, standing in the stables of my own ranch. The saddle was a stranger to me, though… too many cinches, the skirt was barely there, and I couldn’t begin to make sense of the rigging.

“Well, Thunder… it’s just you and me. Let’s see how you feel about this.” The bridle and saddle felt far too light and flexible to my hands, though I supposed that could be due to my strength.

Thunder didn’t seem interested. I opened the worn-out cupboard above the empty hook and almost laughed to find a box of sugar cubes. I wondered if the humans really kept this here, or if Renesmee had taken it straight out of my stories. I stashed a handful in my shirt pocket and held one out to Thunder. He lipped it out of my fingers without hesitation.

“Good boy,” I murmured, feeling a knot in my throat. I led him back outside, where the others were watching with big proud smiles, but giving us our space. It was easy after that, save for my own unfamiliarity with the saddle and the worry that I’d cinch it too tight. The bridle was easy because there was no bit. I took a deep breath for good luck and mounted.

“Told you,” Alice sang under her breath, though I couldn’t tell whether she was talking to me or Renesmee.

Thunder began moving before I even took the reins. My knees did most of the work, urging him into a light trot out onto the grass. We cut a wide circle around the pasture, scaring off his stablemates again. I dug in a little harder on the way back, listening carefully to his pulse to make sure I wasn’t doing anything wrong. He picked up into a gentle canter without a problem, slowing again as we approached the others. Renesmee shoved the gate open, gesturing out toward the hills with a flourish. “It’s okay,” she assured me. “We’ve taken him out before.”

I shook my head in wonder, urging him forward again. He hesitated inside the gate for just a second, looking back toward the house like a kid about to steal a cookie. Then he took off.

I stopped breathing, feeling lost as I tried to catch the rhythm. For the first time in my life, my vampire body felt heavy and awkward, jarring with the human instincts that were resurfacing. Thunder slowed a bit, fully aware of my difficulty, and scolded me over his shoulder with a long, nickering laugh.

“Give me a minute,” I said, patting his neck. “It’s been a while. A hundred and fifty-four years.” He nickered again, softer this time. “That’s very decent of you,” I answered politely.

I let him explore the back fields of Renesmee’s farm as he liked, alternating between a canter and a running walk. He seemed to know his way around. I held myself as loose as I could, trying to let him show me what he was used to. We gradually fell into a peaceable rhythm together, and when I felt ready, we turned out into the hills. I shortened the reins and leaned forward with more pressure.

“Let’s go, Thunder, git up! Let’s go! Hup!”

He picked up a bit, uncertain, and then we were flying. I shouted my encouragement, and he whinnied back with joy at the freedom, storming ahead wherever I asked. I finally let out a whoop of sheer exhilaration, still unable to believe this was happening! We zigzagged back and forth for a while before taking on the first hill. He scaled it without effort and ran back down just for fun, then another. It was absolute heaven to feel the wind in my hair without the sound of an engine… to feel the powerful muscles carrying me forward, connecting with good, solid earth in a staccato drumbeat that sounded like music.

Would he carry Alice as well? I had to try. I wanted a little more practice first, though, and we still had a good chunk of afternoon left. We slowed for a rest—he certainly wasn’t used to this much climbing—and found a little stream trickling down between the highest hills. Then we found a little path that wound through the trees leading back down to Renesmee’s place.

In the years since Alice found me, I had spent innumerable hours in forests all over the world. It always felt so healing to just bury myself out in nature away from everything, in a place that was so unlike where I had spent the first eighty years as a vampire. To just lose myself in a world that knew neither human nor vampire nor machine, soaking in the smells and sounds of life being quietly lived at its own pace. I often spent that time with Alice, and sometimes with my brothers, but also alone. It was a kind of peace that I had never thought to look for as a human, since I had never had any time to go off on my own. And now, I got to share it with the kind of friend I had missed most of all.

We took our time on the path; Thunder didn’t seem to have come this way before. We just explored it together, smelling as we went and turning our heads to various sounds. He was a companionable fellow, quick to respond and full of horsey chatter. I found myself chattering back, falling back into the easy give-and-take I remembered having with Patch. I didn’t know how often Renesmee and Jacob would like visitors, and I would be at the mercy of the human boarders’ schedule, but I would be back. That was a shame about the humans; I could just imagine how the light would cut through the morning mist here in these woods during a morning trot. I’d take whatever I could get, though. However a horse like this had come to be, it was a miracle not to be wasted.

We galloped back down to Thunder’s farm, sending his stablemates scattering in anxiety again. I felt an unfamiliar surge of warmth in my chest to see my Alice waiting for me there at the gate, watching me come home to her. She had climbed up onto the swinging end, perched with her arms folded on the rail and a knowing sparkle in her eyes. She knew what came next.

But first I swung down and paid my respects to my new friend, giving him a vigorous rub on his sweaty neck and mumbling the nonsense language that was starting to come back to me. We looked into each other’s eyes for a bit and then he jammed his mouth into my chest, sniffing out the sugar cubes.

“Hey, okay!” I laughed, giving him his treat. Renesmee and Jacob finally came up.

“Alice said you got lost in the woods,” she teased, reaching up to give Thunder some love of her own. “Do you like your surprise?”

I shook my head. “I still can’t believe it. This is something I never thought I’d have again.” I burst into a huge grin that spread quick through the group, and grabbed my monster niece for a real hug and an outpouring of gratitude. I finally caught a glimpse of the memories she had kept secret earlier: a spindly foal that could only be Thunder, nestled snug in his hay with Renesmee only inches away.

“Even when he was small?” I asked. “He wasn’t afraid?”

“He was born a couple weeks after we moved in,” Jacob explained. “We actually got the idea from Garrett. He’s never tried it himself, but he had heard of vampire back in his day that raised a horse from birth. You just have to expose them really young and keep it up, and they get used to it. Creatures of habit.”

“Still… even if he was used to you two, I don’t see how he’s not upset by a full vampire.”

“That’s because he’s been around them before,” Alice said. “I haven’t come around, because I was afraid you’d catch the scent on me, but Emmett and Esme spent a lot of time over here when they were working on the house. Carlisle’s been out here twice, and of course Bella and Edward.”

“And they brought some of your clothes a couple of times,” Renesmee added. “So he could get to know you, too.” She looked out at the other horses. “They’ve gotten used to us, sort of, since we spent so much time with Thunder. But he’s yours.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Surprise!” she said gaily.

“Didn’t you hear me call it a gift horse earlier?” Jacob snorted. “Listen, you can leave him here until you’ve got something ready back nearer the main house.”

“It won’t take long,” Alice promised, squeezing my arm. “Esme’s been working on sketches of stables for months. She’s just waiting for you to come back and pick out what you want.”

My throat finally closed, full of emotion. I laid a hand back up on Thunder’s flank, feeling the warmth and listening to the heavy heartbeat. He was mine.

“All right,” Jacob said, looking at his watch. “Alice said they’d be home at 8:32, so you’ve still got an hour and half. Just put everything back where you found it.”

Once I found enough voice to mumble another thank you, Renesmee and Jacob went back home. When she looked back I raised my hand in farewell, resting back against the gate and pulling Alice into my arms. She leaned her head back against my chest, and for a little while we just watched Thunder stroll around the yard, unsure what to do with himself.

“Where to, ma’am?” I finally asked, turning her around. She smiled up at me.

“You know. And yes, it’ll work.”

I would have to ask her, later, what her role had been in all of this. Right now we had a dream to fulfill. I mounted again, reaching down to “help” Alice up. She was actually pretty tense at first; all the visions in the world hadn’t prepared her for the feeling of sitting a horse. As far as either of us knew, she had never done it before.

“Hi, Thunder,” she whispered, stroking his flank.

“Hold on to me,” I cautioned her. “It’d be so easy to break his ribs if we’re not careful.” She wrapped her arms around my waist, and I picked up one of her hands for a quick kiss. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

I dug in and we were off, straight out the gate without hesitation. Alice gasped, wrapping her arms tighter, but she kept herself quiet. This was heaven, to have her with me like this. I’d imagined it so many times, but this was even better. It felt like I was finally able to let her see this part of me… to have her share in it. The three of us sailed effortlessly through the tall grass toward the hills, rising and falling in silent unison as Thunder’s heart and hooves beat on.

Alice was beginning to relax. I grinned to myself and reached back to grab her mid-gallop, swinging her around and forward into my lap. She shrieked in surprise, latching onto me for dear life as Thunder reared up in response to the inhuman sound.

“Steady there!” I fought him back down, holding Alice with one arm as I managed the reins.

“You did that on purpose!”

“Maybe…”

I pulled hard right, aiming for the ridge I had spotted earlier. “Let’s see if he can manage this one…” I said mainly to myself. Alice’s eyes glazed over for just a second and then she glared lovingly at me, relaxing and letting me hold her bridal-style as we began the rough climb. At least the mud was a little wet still; it gave Thunder’s hooves something to sink into. We jostled and weaved our way up to the top, finally cresting the last bump and coming to a stop.

“Do you have any idea how amazing this is?” I said softly as we took in the vista below us. The sun was growing big and orange as it sank toward the western horizon. “To have this again… to have you here with me.”

“I can feel it,” she said, laying her hand on my heart. I wasn’t surprised; my happiness was too big for just one heart at the moment. I held her close and closed my eyes until I felt Thunder begin to shift impatiently.

I lifted Alice up into sitting astride, this time reaching around her with both arms to hold the reins. She relaxed and lay back against my chest as we began our descent. Her love burst over me in waves, and mine wrapped around her, binding us together. This was meant to be… it always had been. Just another piece of destiny she had taught me to believe in. When we were ready, I laid a kiss on her hair and called out for Thunder to let it loose. Soon we were galloping again, racing down onto the plain and out into the sunset.

#here have seven thousand words of jasper being adorable and happy #into the sunset #fanfiction #jasper #alice #thunder #horse #renesmee #jacob #post-canon #patch

18 notes · View notes