#I saw Alfred but this also works for Amelia | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatsamericano · 3 years

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LOL, one thing I’m thinking of doing is adding in another version of Romerica, because it’s my story and I can be self-indulgent if I want. (So far we have regular Romerica, platonic m/f Romerica, and a Romerica parallel with two Italians. I’m thinking of adding the f/f version.) I had Chiara in this fic as a student at Sapienza University of Rome studying art history, and Amelia is a student at the American University of Rome studying film. Chiara met her this year when she was just walking around Rome and Amelia was working on a first-year film project (and she was like ooh, pretty Italian girl, better get her on camera instead of focusing on whatever shot I was trying to get before, lol). They became friends, and right now they’re not together, but they’re at the mutual crushes stage. Part of what Chiara is doing when she’s not at the house is hanging out with her friend, because Amelia is in Rome over the holidays and her family might not be with her (maybe her family isn’t FACE, so the relationship isn’t good with her parents and it’s just her sister Madeleine).

Then on December 26, it’s Santo Stefano, which is traditionally a day to visit friends in Italy. Chiara wants to go visit her friend/crush after two full days of being around her family. Nyo Veneziano (who I’ll mention once or twice as this girl who’s maybe around Alfred’s age and looks a lot like Feliciano, possibly Chiara’s sister since she’s often with the mom/dad) teases her when she mentions going out to visit her friend Amelia. She’s like “Are you sure you’re not going to visit your girlfriend?” and she starts blushing and getting flustered like “God damn it, Alice, I told you she was pretty one time! Fucking let it go already!” Realistically, this dialogue would all be in Italian, but Alfred has been studying with Duolingo basically ever since he met Savino so he knows enough Italian to get the gist. (It’s longer conversations, especially if people are talking quickly and over each other, that he has a harder time with. This one is a short exchange with basic vocabulary, plus cursing that he would know from Savino.) Alfred giggles when he sees this, because it reminds him of how Savino still gets around him sometimes, and especially how he was acting very early on when he was trying to deny his feelings. She kind of glances at him, huffs, and leaves to go visit her friend.

The reason why Chiara gets so annoyed with her mom pestering her about Alfred (and her dad laughing at her mom’s comments) is that there is just nothing romantic there. Alfred is obviously in love with her cousin, and even on the first meeting before she knew that she could tell his blushing was out of embarrassment that she had told him his accent was terrible when he’d been trying so hard to impress everyone, not because he had a thing for her. Chiara is too practical to let herself develop a crush on a boy who’s obviously in love with her cousin, two years younger than her, and will only be in Rome for a little more than a week. She has a huge crush on her friend Amelia that she hasn’t told anyone about (but her sister Alice just knows, the way Feliciano could tell Savino liked Alfred without him saying anything about it). Chiara dated boys in high school, and she hasn’t told her parents she’s also into girls yet because she may be only starting to figure this out herself and because she isn’t dating a girl so it’s not super relevant information for them to have yet. No one in this family would care about Chiara being bi, and she knows this. (There’s obviously Antonio, who is bi. Nonno Vargas is bi and was just devoted to one woman for the majority of his life. I’m planning to casually drop that info when he talks to Alfred and mentions that he used to give “boys and girls” hickeys and do more than that with them when he was Alfred’s age if the hickey Christmas Eve incident comes up, but then he explains that he became completely focused on Sofia once he met her. By sheer numbers, there should be at least a couple more gay/bi people in this family.) But Chiara’s parents are operating not only under the assumption she’s straight (wrong), but also that she’s at least somewhat into Alfred because she seems to enjoy teasing him occasionally and making him blush (double wrong, because she might have been interested in Alfred in another life where the circumstances were very different, but not this one). So she gets really annoyed about it sometimes.

Also, Chiara got super blushy the first time she opened her email and saw Savino’s art project because it looks a lot like her and Amelia. Savino was making it a female version of him and Alfred, so of course the brunette girl basically looked like her but with Savino’s slightly lighter hair color (the main physical difference Alfred notices in this fic besides the obvious fact that Chiara is a girl). The blonde girl does look a lot like Amelia too, but with some differences because Amelia looks like America’s canon nyo (so no glasses and no cowlick, which Savino would have added for his boyfriend). She didn’t tell anyone this, but maybe Amelia was around and was like “Ooh, what’s making you blush so much, Chiara?” and Chiara slammed her laptop closed so fast you’d think she was looking at something a lot less innocent than a high school art project that shows two girls kissing.

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alifeasvivid · 3 years

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The Periodic Cataloging of my WIPs aka proof that I am immortal

because you can’t die if you have 5 or more wip’s at a time

Things I am actively working on:

Thief of Spades Season 2 (ukus) - I’m 98% sure there will not be a season 3 but season 2 is definitely going to be longer than season 1 (I think it already is by word count)

If It’s You Chapter 2 (usuk) - aka the smutty part

Jungle Fever (ukus) - good old fashioned monsterfuckery featuring naga!Arthur and his pet, the wayward human Alfred

The as-yet untitled tattoo thing that was supposed to be for England’s “birthday” (usukus) - it’s either gonna be 4000 words of smut or 12000 words of Feels, minor plot, and smut.... I haven’t decided yet

Desperate Measures, chapter 3 (usuk) - I mean.... it’s omegaverse. What do you think is gonna happen?

Things which are semi-on the back burner:

London State of Mind (ukusuk) - this one is meant to just update when I think of something to add to it anyway

How’d You Get So Fly (usukus) - the continuation to the nyo!usuk burlesque club AU Alice doesn’t stand a chance but neither does Amelia

Sovereignty of a Spadian Heart (usuk) - a cardverse AU, combination of a newer idea and an older prompt, will now be omegaverse and not found monarch trope

Things which are on the back burner but not forgotten:

Fake Dating AU (ukus) - the one where Arthur is a tv screenwriter in Hollywood who gets summoned home to England for his brother’s wedding and in a moment of weakness decided to hire an escort for the trip but accidently hires Alfred, a struggling actor, instead by way of mistaken identity

Stay by My Side (engsey) - that goddamned EngSey idea

A Lavender Arrangement - (usukus) early 1800′s Boston, Arthur wants Alfred, but also his family’s approval. Amelia wants her rightful inheritance but also Alice. A simple solution gets a little bit complicated.

The Floor is Lava (ukus) - omegaverse based on a tweet I saw. features omega Alfred and alpha single dad Arthur

Temptation Acknowledged (usuk) - priest!Alfred/demon!Arthur au continuation at some point maybe

Things which are just ideas that are eating my brain:

Cardverse that’s more like chess where the Queen has all the power and the King must be protected.

Firefly au with Captain Amelia Jones and Companion Arthur Kirkland and ensemble P:

other things that have eaten my brain so much I can’t remember them.

Please dear lord I long for a peaceful mind.

#spadian ballad #wips

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mordoriscalling · 3 years

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Life (of) Surprise (3/5)

Jaskier lies to his family about being engaged to Geralt for the second time… and there are way too many surprises involved.

Part 4 of the Singer and the Sailor AU that no one asked for but I wrote anyway (again). Warnings: Jaskier and Geralt have a serious argument in this one.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

III - A Surprise Realisation

Geralt never thought he’d get married again, much less to a man. Leave alone a man like Jaskier, who is loud, bright, and charismatic; unlike Geralt in so many aspects that by all means, their relationship shouldn’t work as well as it does.

He’s a divorcee. His previous relationships didn’t last. Rationally, he knows he should’ve been more cautious, yet when Jaskier got down on one knee that April morning, Geralt found himself unable to say no. He was so tired that day, but that wasn’t the reason he said yes. He agreed to marry Jaskier because back then – as he looked into Jaskier’s eyes, blue like the cloudless sky above them – he realised that it seemed right.

Jaskier’s always accepted Geralt the way he is, with all his problems and mistakes. Jaskier is both safety and adventure. He’s trustworthy and unpredictable; a fascinating contradiction that Geralt could see himself exploring for the rest of his life.

Or so he thought.

“Eight months,” Geralt grits out, his emotions balancing at the edge of fury.

Jaskier says nothing, his eyes cast downwards, standing in the middle of the room with the air of a puppy about to be kicked.

“We’ve been engaged for eight fucking months,” Geralt growls, “and you’re only telling me this now?”

“I wanted to come clean,” Jaskier answers weakly. His voice doesn’t waver.

The steadiness of his voice shouldn’t be surprising, though. Jaskier’s a singer. A performer. A very good one. Geralt didn’t have an issue with that before. The only problem with Jaskier that Geralt’s ever truly had it that Jaskier can be extremely inconsiderate at times.

Now, the former and the latter seem to have merged into something that Geralt isn’t sure he can forgive.

“You didn’t think about doing that earlier?” he asks.

It’s New Year’s Eve. They’re in Jaskier’s childhood bedroom, where they’re to sleep for the night. Downstairs, a party is about to begin, with both Jaskier’s and Geralt’s family and closest friends in attendance. Jaskier’s parents, Wanda and Alfred. Rozalia and Silvio, Amelia with Nasir and their daughter. Triss, Essi and Eskel. Aiden and Lambert. Vesemir, Yennefer, Ciri, Dara.

Geralt suspects that everyone is waiting in the dining room already. Yet, this is the moment that Jaskier chose to tell him about the circumstances of their engagement.

“I didn’t have the courage,” Jaskier replies, “I was afraid you’d take it the wrong way.”

“Have the fuck am I supposed to take it any other way?!” Geralt barks, making Jaskier flinch. “You told your family that we’d marry before you asked me to marry you.”

It’s dark outside the tall windows. The only source of light in the room is the chandelier above Jaskier’s head, hanging down from the high ceiling. The lamps cast Jaskier in a warm glow, and to Geralt, it seems as if he saw his fiancé for the first time. There’s a stubborn set to Jaskier’s jaw as he still refuses to look at nowhere but the wooden floor.

“You did that for what?” Geralt demands, “So that you look good in front of your family? Is... us some kind of fucking performance for you? Have you been pretending from the –”

“No,” Jaskier cuts in. His gaze is finally on Geralt, and he appears genuinely aghast at the notion. “The only pretending I’ve ever done is lying to myself that our engagement was for real the whole time! I told everyone that we’d marry because I wished it so badly to be true! I wanted it to happen, so I said something that would force me to make it happen.”

The confession would be heart-warming if not for the last sentence, which makes Geralt’s blood run cold. He walks up to Jaskier slowly, staring him down, trying to see through the (distracting, deceptive) blue of his eyes.

“You would’ve made it happen?” he murmurs, his emotions treading the dangerous line again, “If I’d said no, would you have persisted? Manipulated me, as you did with the spring wedding?”

A broken noise escapes Jaskier’s lips. “That wasn’t my intention! I’m so sorry that I made you feel this way. Please forgive me, I never meant it like that–”

“I’m starting to doubt every word you say,” Geralt interrupts, because now their nearly three years together feel fake.

Jaskier takes a step back, hurt written all over his features. Tears well up in his eyes as he exclaims, “I’m not lying! I’m not lying when I say that you’re the only one that I want to marry.”

Geralt doesn’t want to hear it. He moves to walk away but Jaskier grabs him by the arm. “Dammit Jaskier,” he growls, “don’t–”

“Listen to me,” Jaskier says, insistent.

Geralt tries not to, looks away to distance himself, but Jaskier’s voice is that of a siren – arresting and irresistible, powerful even when hushed.

“I never thought that I’d settle down. I fell in love too easily. One day a woman from the bar would have my heart, and then next it would be a guy at the bus stop. Commitment wasn’t my thing.”

Geralt scowls, about to ask how that information is supposed to help in the current situation, but Jaskier speaks first.

“But then, then I met someone who’s so deeply fascinating that I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s been through so much and yet he’s nothing but kind and considerate. He has so much presence but he rarely uses it to his advantage. He feels so much and yet he shows nothing. He...” Jaskier chuckles, the sound somehow both warm and sad. “He’s honest with me and calls me out on my mistakes, challenging me to be better. Thanks to him, I don’t stop learning. With him, it seems like... like we’re writing a gripping book. A... a story I want to go on and on.”

A story without an ending may not be a happy one, Geralt muses. He says nothing, though, still looking away, and Jaskier speaks up again.

“From the moment I met you, I’ve wanted you to stay, but perhaps–” he cuts himself off, releasing out a shaky sigh. He lets go of Geralt’s arm at least and then utters, “Perhaps I love you too much. Maybe it’s not healthy, after all.”

Pain seeps through every syllable as Jaskier says this. Geralt has to swallow hard because that, that seems so wrong. How can it not be healthy when the only time they truly breathe – truly relax and let go – is as they are around each other?

Geralt stands frozen, listening to Jaskier’s sniffs, and tries to process all that he’s heard. He has to fight his fervent want to believe Jaskier’s loving words. He wishes it to be true, yet the recent revelation’s stained all they’ve been through with the ugly thought that Geralt’s feelings – his love – have just been a fucking box to tick.

The sheer hurt of it settles somewhere deep within him, clawing a hole in his chest, wrenching, pulling all the air out of his lungs. He can’t stand being next to Jaskier anymore and escapes to the bathroom, which is adjacent to the bedroom.

The water is cool as Geralt splashes it all over his face. He tries to take his emotions under control, especially that anger raises within him once more. He’s a moment away from doing some real damage to the furniture.

He doesn’t know how long it takes him to calm down. He assumes that enough time passes for Jaskier to decide to go downstairs without him, which is the only wish he has right now. Yet, as he emerges from the bathroom, it (unsurprisingly) turns out that he can't have what he wants – Jaskier sits there, at the edge of the large bed, his face hidden in his hands. As he hears Geralt approach, he raises his head revealing his dishevelled hair and red-rimmed eyes.

He’s a picture of misery and Geralt heart lurches in sympathy, in a ridiculous need to comfort his fiancé, despite his anger.

They stay like that, staring at each other for a few unbearable moments of heavy, choking silence, until Geralt finally breaks it.

“Dinner must’ve started by now,” he says, “We should go.”

A rasped “okay” is all the answer Jaskier gives.

They don’t pretend that everything is all right. Everybody quickly notices the tension between them and the dinner is a painful affair at the beginning. It’s a miracle that everyone’s managed to gather here today, though. The two families seem determined to make the best of it and the initial awkwardness soon passes. Conversations start flowing and after some time, everyone is getting along well enough for the party not to be torturous.

When dinner is finished, Jaskier’s parents invite them to the living room. There, a piano awaits, and Jaskier launches into a short performance that leaves everyone spell-bound, including Geralt, even though it hurts.

It hurts to watch Jaskier’s fingers dance over the keys, knowing the way in which those beautiful hands touch his body. It hurts to see the tempting curve of Jaskier’s neck, knowing how Jaskier always gasps when he kisses it. It hurts to watch Jaskier shine because he believed that he had a part of Jaskier’s light to himself.

And yet. Now, there’s the ugly thought at the back of his head that it wasn’t true. Jaskier did claim it was.

And yet.

The moment the performance ends, Geralt decides to survive by sticking with Silvio. Rozalia’s husband is talkative but what he loves chattering about the most is the cats and dogs he’s fostering with his wife. He shows Geralt pictures and videos, which improves Geralt’s mood slightly.

After Triss and Nasir steal Silvio away, Geralt is left alone, sitting in the corner of the room with his glass of wine. On instinct, his eyes search for his daughter. He finds her talking to Jaskier’s sister and frowns.

He loves Ciri more than life itself but he’s aware that she’s can be a right brat. He’s also familiar with Amelia and Rozalia enough to know that they’re very likely to be charmed by Cirilla’s vicious streak. Jaskier seems to know it too, and he appears genuinely terrified as he watches his sisters chat with Ciri, the three smiling mysteriously.

Then, Yennefer joins them, and Geralt is... apprehensive.

The party goes on. Some people, like his brothers, leave Geralt in peace. Others, such as Jaskier’s parents, insist on speaking to him. He picks his way through the, admittedly polite and pleasant, conversations, until no one wants to talk to him.

All the while, his gaze strays to Jaskier. Geralt watches him joke with Essi and Vesemir, laugh at something Lambert and Eskel are saying, take his niece into his arms and coo at her with Aiden by his side.

As Geralt observes Jaskier hold little Zofia and smile at her lovingly while Aiden makes funny faces at her, he suddenly comes to understand how tightly Jaskier has managed to weave himself in between all the threads that make Geralt’s life. All his family know Jaskier and accept him. Most of them are fond of him, or downright adore him. Geralt’s thoughts and memories of the sea are mingled with Jaskier’s songs. He doesn’t miss being at sea as much as he feared in large part due to Jaskier engaging him in his own life. Jaskier knows him, like a true friend does.

Removing him from the tapestry would leave a jagged hole, and Geralt realises that it’s not something he’d ever want. After all, he doesn’t have a particular place where he belongs. His home is where his loved ones are.

And he loves Jaskier so.

It’s ten minutes to midnight when Jaskier approaches him for the first time since the argument. Geralt still sits on the couch without any company as Jaskier stands before him, clearly putting up a happy face.

“I love the way you just... sit in the corner and brood,” he remarks, his cheerfulness falling flat,

Geralt rolls his eyes, irritated. “I’m here to drink alone,” he grunts.

Jaskier, of course, refuses to take the hint and sits down beside him. Before Geralt can protest it, though, loud giggles catch his attention. He looks at the source of the sound and sees Ciri and Dara laughing at something on their phones (a meme, Geralt assumes). Joy at seeing his daughter’s happiness fill him but then Jaskier’s voice snaps him back to reality.

“If you say that you don’t believe me,” he says, “what must Dara think?”

Geralt looks at him sharply and immediately understands the sadness in his eyes. He’s aware of how much Jaskier wants Dara to know that all he’s done to help the boy – putting his career on hold to care for him, providing for him, going to therapy with him – are driven by genuine willingness to help, not pity or charity.

“Maybe I’m not good at...” Jaskier goes on, a wry smile twisting his lips, “Well. This whole... guardian thing.”

“You are,” Geralt replies.

It is true. Dara agreed to say with Jaskier eight months ago. The boy is still grieving and struggling but Jaskier has been supporting him through it with surprisingly few missteps.

“Thank you,” Jaskier answers, uncharismatically timid.“I... Geralt,” he begins, his tone sombre.

Geralt tenses and waits. His free hand, the one not holding the wine glass, clenches into a fist.

“I’m sorry for withholding the truth from you for so long, I was...” Jaskier swallows. “Stupid. It was wrong of me, and I... I promise it won’t happen again.”

He looks away and considers, even though there isn’t much to wonder about. There’s no coming back from how important Jaskier is to him, for better or for worse. His hurt is far from mended but Geralt nods. Jaskier heaves a sigh and lays his hand atop Geralt clenched fist.

“Will you stay?” Jaskier murmurs.

A memory strikes him – of how Jaskier asked him the same thing almost three years ago as they stood outside this very house.

In the background, the countdown begins. Geralt unclenches his fist and takes Jaskier’s hand in his, giving it a squeeze. Jaskier squeezes back and the New Year starts.

***

A/N: the chapter count went up to 5 because I wanted to split ch3 into two smaller parts. Also, you can also read this fic on AO3.

#my fic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fanfiction #modern au #the Sailor and the Singer AU

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Best Serial Killer Movies of the ’90s Ranked

https://ift.tt/3tcsgCf

Someone must have left the freezer door in the morgue open, because grisly reminders of the past are thawing before our eyes. You can see it this weekend with the release of John Lee Hancock’s The Little Things, a throwback to the days when movie stars hung out at crime scenes instead of in spandex, and it’ll be more apparent next month with the launch of Clarice, a television spinoff of 1991’s The Silence of the Lambs. All the evidence points to only one conclusion: the serial killer thrillers of the ‘90s are back!

Not that we’re complaining. For a macabre minute or two, every Hollywood name appeared eager to play either the detective or the killer—the hunter or the obsessed, which often proved interchangeable for both characters. Granted that means there can be something formulaic about many of these movies. Yet they can also be bleak, hard-edged, and ambiguous. From our modern gaze, where the dominant studio conventions prefer reassuring morality tales and sunny lighting, these movies’ preference for shadows and discomfort in the mainstream is kind of startling.

So grab your magnifying glass and fortify your stomach, because we’re about to revisit some of the best (and worst) of ‘90s serial killer thrillers. (Also this list is strictly for the decade when the genre was at its height and it excludes slasher movies like Scream, which may feature serial killers but were not exactly adult-oriented thrillers.)

12. Eye of the Beholder (1999)

Eye of the Beholder is a tonal oddity that only passingly flirts with the conventions of ‘90s serial killer thrillers, all while it tries to pay homage to (read: rip-off) Alfred Hitchcock. But any credit it deserves for deviation—including making Ashley Judd’s central femme fatale the killer—it loses in execution. As a muddied, impenetrable tale about an intelligence officer (Ewan McGregor) who spies on and falls in love with a serial killer, Eye of the Beholder is a scattershot of bad ideas that run the gamut from ludicrous to misogynistic.

Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but this movie will close the lids over your pupils inside of 30 minutes.

11. Nightwatch (1997)

It feels a little mean to rag on Ewan McGregor back-to-back, but maybe serial killer movies just aren’t his genre? That could be at least one takeaway from an ill-advised double feature of Eye of the Beholder and Nightwatch, the latter of which is a remake of a 1994 Danish film that I’ve not seen… and probably won’t since both the original film and American remake are directed by the same man.

McGregor plays medical student Martin here, a kid who gets an after school job by becoming the night watch security at the local morgue. But as a series of grisly prostitute murders pile up, Martin realizes he needs to figure out who the killer is—that or continue to be framed by the necrophiliac fiend who keeps coming by the morgue for one last liaison. It’s exactly as skeevy as it sounds. Do yourself a favor and go your whole life without hearing Nick Nolte sing “This Old Man” while climbing onto a corpse.

10. Natural Born Killers (1994)

The movie that Quentin Tarantino disowned, Natural Born Killers is a seedy mess based on a Tarantino script that was heavily rewritten by Oliver Stone, David Veloz, and Richard Rutowski. The concept itself is a seemingly inevitable escalation of the “bad romance outlaws” archetype that’s been floating around Hollywood since at least 1950’s Gun Crazy, and which was then made iconic by Bonnie & Clyde (1967).

But whereas those films relied on bank robbers living fast, Natural Born Killers descends into a seeming final form with Mickey and Mallory (Woody Harrelson and Juliette Lewis) as giddy serial killers who are eventually out for maximum carnage. Technically the pair are supposed to be presented as victims of traumatic child abuse—and who are then wrongfully glorified by the media. But Stone’s sloppy and tanked vision lacks the discipline to achieve anything beyond its maliciousness. Early sequences imagining Mallory’s abusive childhood like it’s a television sitcom, and later psychedelic visions of Robert Downey Jr.’s opportunistic news reporter as the Devil, do little to divorce the film from its shallow self-satisfaction in close-ups of heads being shot.

The movie came under controversy in the years after its release for inspiring alleged copycat killers as well as school shooters. It feels irresponsible to blame media for actual violence, but it’s still quite an indictment that Stone’s attempt to criticize media glorification became a favorite for many a disturbed individual with a gun.

9. Kiss the Girls (1997)

When studying competent, middle of the road Hollywood thrillers, Kiss the Girls is a solid place to start. As a decently made bit of studio convention, the movie is anchored by strong elements like Morgan Freeman as James Paterson’s literary hero, Alex Cross, and Ashley Judd as Kate, the victim who survives a masked killer’s attempt to abduct her into his harem.

Moments like Kate’s escape sequence through the North Carolina wilderness are effectively filled with adrenaline, and Judd particularly gives the salacious piece conviction. However, it is salacious to a fault. Even if the movie toned down the source novel’s even more lurid misogyny, the film studies Kate and the other victims with a lascivious male gaze, blurring sex with violence, real world horror with leering entertainment. Right down to its title, the film can be rightly criticized as Hollywood glamourizing another story about violence against women. Whether that damns the whole movie depends on the viewer, but it certainly keeps it low on our list.

8. The Bone Collector (1999)

Marketed with a hell of a tagline about there being thousands of taxi cabs in New York City that’ll get you home—and one that won’t—The Bone Collector is almost comically slavish to the clichés of ‘90s moviemaking. The wrinkle here is that after a faux cab driver begins abducting his victims off the street, the crime psychologist who must stop him is entirely stuck by his bedside. Due to a tragic accident, Denzel Washington’s Lincoln Rhyme is paralyzed from the neck down. Yet he is still able to catch serial killers by communicating in the earpiece of police officer Amelia Donaghy (an entirely unconvincing Angelina Jolie).

Movies

Lost Girls Review: Netflix Takes on the Long Island Serial Killer

By Rosie Fletcher

Books

The Last Book on the Left Takes on the Grim History of Serial Killers

By Alec Bojalad

Together the pair stay one step behind the mystery killer’s tracks as he executes a series of increasingly gruesome and ridiculous murders. It’s preposterous, and in some ways a forerunner for Saw with the satisfaction it takes in absurd death traps, but Washington is effortlessly compelling, even when he never leaves his apartment. As a bit of absurd Hollywood fluff, right down to the ultimately lackluster unmasking of the killer, it can be entertaining, even if you’ll deny it afterward.

7. Copycat (1995)

More potent than I remembered, Copycat is a genuinely well-crafted Hollywood thriller that may not reinvent the wheel but takes it out for a damn good spin. In the driver’s seat is Sigourney Weaver as Dr. Helen Hudson, a criminal psychologist who is an expert on serial killers until one follows her into the bathroom after a guest lecture. He nearly hangs her from the ceiling. Following that white-knuckled opening, the film jumps years ahead and Helen has become agoraphobic and afraid to leave her home.

Yet when a local series of murders reveal the pattern of a predator imitating the methods of his favorite “celebrities”—one crime scene is like the Boston Strangler and another emulates the horrors of Jeffrey Dahmer—Helen is pulled out of retirement by a no-nonsense detective (Holly Hunter). The winning chemistry between Weaver and Hunter—who are refreshingly free from the studio-mandated romantic subplots in some of the other movies on this list—and the blunt force power of their performances aid this sincerely disquieting flick. A needlessly convoluted third act aside, the movie still works as a warning about the danger of fanboys a generation early.

6. Fallen (1998)

Denzel Washington appears again thanks to this clever supernatural spin on the serial killer genre. At the beginning of Fallen, Washington’s John Hobbes appears on top of the world. The serial killer he chased for years (Elias Koteas) is about to breathe deeply in the gas chamber. Yet after the lever is pulled, and with Koteas singing the Rolling Stones’ “Time is On My Side” until his last breath, a funny thing happens: the murders continue.

In fact, more than just the killings, strangers in the street sing “Time is On My Side” in Hobbes’ ear, and he soon realizes that he faces a devil of a killer whose been operating since the beginning—quite literally since the villain is a demon who was once an angel that fell with Lucifer. It’s a bizarre premise given strutting confidence thanks to Washington’s performance, as well as good supporting work by John Goodman and Donald Sutherland. Twenty years later and its ending still sticks with me.

5. The Exorcist III (1990)

If you haven’t seen The Exorcist III, we know what you’re thinking: “Really?!” Yes. In fact, this isn’t even an exorcist movie; it should’ve been titled Legion like the 1983 novel it’s based on. Alas writer-director William Peter Blatty was forced to use the title and do reshoots that added an exorcism in the climax. Still, this supernatural thriller which involves a serial killer back from the dead is far better than it has any right to be.

Following the character of Lt. Kinderman from the 1973 masterpiece, the middle-aged gumshoe is now played by George C. Scott instead of the late Lee J. Cobb, and he possesses Scott’s usual love for contrasts between the restrained whisper and a bombastic howl. He also makes a sympathetic, secular detective forced to face the horrors of Hell when a series of murders committed against Catholic priests appear to be the work of the Gemini Killer (Brad Dourif), a serial killer whom Kinderman sent to the chair more than 10 years ago.

Movies

The Exorcist III is a Classic and Better Than You Remember

By Jim Knipfel

Movies

The Exorcist Is Still the Scariest Movie Ever Made

By David Crow

Somehow the fiend—plus Kinderman’s long dead pal Father Damien Karras (Jason Miller)—appear to now be living in the same body of a John Doe kept in a mental asylum. With an unrelenting atmosphere of dread, palpable tension, and more of Blatty’s intellectual struggle with concepts of faith and evil, the film is more high-minded than its hacky title suggests. It also features one of the best jump scares in movie history.

4. Summer of Sam (1999)

The only movie on this list directly based on an actual serial killer’s crimes, Spike Lee’s Summer of Sam is a serious-minded joint. However, it’s only partially about the murders perpetrated by David Berkowitz, aka the “.44 Caliber Killer,” aka the Son of Sam. Rather the film focuses on the effects a serial killer has on the culture of New York City during the sweltering summer of 1977, and how it affects young lives trying to make it in the big city.

Influenced by Lee and his co-writers Michael Imperioli and Victor Colicchio’s memories of growing up in 1970s New York, the pic is a love letter to a grim moment in history when the city was about to explode with murders, blackouts, crime, and disco. All of this is digested from the vantages of Vinny (John Leguizamo), a philandering hairdresser guilt-ridden for cheating on his wife (Mira Sorvino), and his childhood pal Ritchie (Adrien Brody), who’s left the old neighborhood behind to join the fledgling punk rock scene.

With a greater interest in how a serial killer affects the culture and institutions of a city on edge than being a traditional crime drama, Summer of Sam is a bit of a forerunner to David Fincher’s far more polished Zodiac from a few years later. With heavy-handed dialogue and a plot too big for Lee to fully get his arms around, even at 142 minutes, Summer of Sam can be uneven and messy. But it has the sweaty incorrigibility of a long night out, and of revelries half remembered like from a fever dream.

3. The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999)

The rare serial killer movie told entirely from the perspective of the killer, Anthony Minghella’s The Talented Mr. Ripley is disarmingly creepy. Despite its glossy awards bait sheen, there is a cold-blooded streak that runs deep to the heart of the piece, likely due to Patricia Highsmith’s source 1955 novel. Starring Matt Damon fresh off his Good Will Hunting golden boy sheen, the film uses its casting to disorient and ultimately disturb.

Like Highsmith’s book, the film is not structured like a traditional thriller. It instead favors a detached ambivalence about its seemingly nebbish hero as he agrees to become an errand boy for the rich by traveling to 1950s Italy in order to retrieve a silver spoon cad (Jude Law) for his father. But the more time Tom Ripley (Damon) spends with Law’s Dickie Greenleaf, the more he grows envious of Dickie’s lifestyle, his wealth and confidence, and maybe even his affection for socialite Marge (Gwyneth Paltrow). There is a subtle—too subtle due to ‘90s Hollywood conventions—homoerotic undercurrent throughout the film as Ripley slowly works up the courage to take his first life. It won’t be his last.

Movies

Knives Out: When Murder Makes You a Better Person

By Natalie Zutter

Movies

Seven: The Brilliance of David Fincher’s Chase Scene

By Ryan Lambie

Highsmith wound up publishing four subsequent sequels to The Talented Mr. Ripley, but unfortunately no more were made with Damon. Perhaps because this was too unsettling for an ongoing franchise.

2. Seven (1995)

While watching David Fincher’s masterful Seven, the thing that immediately stands out is the oppressive nihilism that permeates throughout. There were decades of neo noir before this detective yarn about the hunt for a serial killer, but none demonstrated such an overbearing sense of despair before the opening credits were even concluded. And perhaps what makes it unshakable is how welcoming the film is toward bleakness; it succumbs long before the gut-punch finale.

Telling the story of an old cop days from retirement (Morgan Freeman) and a hotheaded rookie detective (Brad Pitt), Andrew Kevin Walker’s script has an economy of pace that still impresses despite its cynicism. Very quickly one murder becomes two, then three, and soon four. Yet none of the atrocities are reveled in by Fincher’s blocking; they’re off-screen mutilations which leave psychic damage on his two leads and, eventually, us. The deaths also quickly establish a pattern that their serial killer is targeting seven souls, each intended to embody one of the seven deadly sins.

The movie is a classic now for its climax where the killer “John Doe” (a reptilian Kevin Spacey) turns himself in and leads the cops into the darkest pit, but it’s the entire package that makes this one linger more than 25 years later. At the end of the film, Somerset quotes Hemingway by saying, “‘The world is a fine place and worth fighting for.’ I agree with the second part.” I’m not convinced his film does.

1. The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

As the film that kick-started the idea that serial killers could create their own film genre, The Silence of the Lambs still remains the best of its kind. Blessedly unaware that it was creating conventions for countless copycats, the film tells its psychological drama with simplicity and clarity. Whereas other films on this list bask in their bleakness, there is a dogged optimism and even perverse warmth to this Jonathan Demme adaptation of Thomas Harris’ Silence of the Lambs novel. And that’s of course largely attributable to the casting of Anthony Hopkins and Jodie Foster.

As Dr. Hannibal Lecter, Hopkins is of course monumental. It’s a performance that turned a quinquagenarian into an overnight movie star, and became Hopkins’ calling card as he returned to the not-so-good doctor’s well one too many times. Still, he’s undeniably enthralling as Hannibal, a cannibal psychologist with superhuman powers of observation and mental menace. Even so, Foster is often overlooked by critics for her own contributions as the FBI trainee who’s proverbially fed to the incarcerated Lecter—a pretty face to get the serial killer to consult pro bono on the crimes of another mass murderer. It’s just one more example of casual sexism faced by Clarice that gives Foster as much to play as Hopkins.

Culture

David Fincher’s Zodiac: The Movie That Never Ended

By Don Kaye

Movies

The Little Things Ending Explained

By David Crow

Surrounded by the slights and prejudices of men—be they in law enforcement or straight jackets—Clarice is constantly underestimated. She finds an intellectual rapport with Hannibal, but she pulls herself out of the darkest night, and the screaming of the lambs, without assistance. Her perseverance matched by Hannibal’s darkly seductive qualities is the juxtaposition that makes Silence of the Lambs one of the finest films of its decade.

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frankwoods · 3 years

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3,4,5,6,18,19,20,25,26,27,28,29,30,31,32,33,35,36,38,41,47,49,53,54,55,56, and 52 for Luke :0 have fun!!

DAMN ANON, making me work lmao. I appreciate it tho <3

3. Orientation and Relationship status (single, taken (by who?), crush (on who?))

Luke is a bi disaster! And he’s taken by Frank Woods!

4. Race and Ethnicity

White. British and American.

5. Height and Body type

He’s 5′10″. He’s got a fit body, a product from his assassin training and his parkour skills. But compared to someone like Frank, he’s slightly smaller.

6. Headcanon VA

Same as his face claim, Skeet Ulrich!

18. Answered!

19. Answered!

20. Answered!

25. Answered!

26. Answered!

27. What’s their family like? Who’s in it? What’s their relationship with them?

His family-life was very complicated throughout his childhood, but slowly got better as he got older. Especially with Frank and the kiddos being added in.

He’s got his mom, Roberta. Leila, a family friend who became his second mom. Alfred, another family friend who became his one true father figure up until his death. Brandon, his childhood best friend who is essentially his brother. Frank, his husband. Alex Mason, a very close family friend to both Luke and Frank. Athena, his eldest child, and Jonathan, his youngest. And last but not least, David Mason, his adoptive son.

28. Are they literate? Did they go to school? How long? What level?

Yep, he’s literate. He completed all 12 years of school: elementary, middle, and high school, eventually graduating. He tried college but saw his duties as an assassin to be more important.

29. What was childhood like?

It was rough to say the least. His mom and him were constantly on the move to avoid the Templars, she didn’t want him involved in anything until he was older. They didn’t settle down in one place until an incident involving 12-year old Luke and a templar made Roberta rethink her strategy. She ended up leaving Luke with Alfred one night, and disappearing. She hated doing that to her son, but she realized that she could divert the Templar’s attention if she left. Needless to say, it didn’t sit well with Luke. He ended up being super rebellious and a wild child until they reunited when Luke was 16. Roberta’s made up for it by time Luke’s a full blown assassin.

30. What was adolescence like?

Like I mentioned above, he was a very rebellious kid at heart. He didn’t hesitate to put anyone in their place, whether they were a classmate, a cop, a teacher, etc. He was a lot more closed off compared to his adult version, but Brandon and Nancy, his high school sweetheart, often got through to him. Speaking of Brandon, the two often got into a lot of trouble: stealing, messing with the rich kids or known bullies, staying out way past curfew, etc. Alfred was surprised the two never got each other killed with some of the shit they pulled.

31. What’s their current main conflict?

Currently, Cold War is always on my brain, so the main conflict would be Perseus and that whole ordeal. Underneath all of the Black Ops storyline, Luke’s main task is to hunt Amelia and her crew down and assassinate them all, considering she’s gotten her fingers all over Nova 6 and now Project Greenlight.

32. What steps have they taken to overcome this conflict?

Helping Mason, Hudson, and Weaver track down the broadcast station to prevent Nova 6 from being set off worldwide is one of the major feats. During the BO1 storyline, Luke managed to off a few of Amelia’s officers in Vietnam, weakening her influence there and among the KGB.

33. How have they changed over time?

He realized one of his major flaws was his anger towards the Templars, often causing him to act recklessly. He’s made more of an effort to be level-headed, even if the mere thought of Amelia pisses him of to no end. While he still tends to be reckless at times, he promised Frank he’d be more careful. Plus he knows what it’s like to grow up without a dad, so he doesn’t want the same to happen to his kids. He’s also come to terms with a lot of the shit that’s happened in his life. It’s out of his control, and some could argue that it helped make him into the man he is currently. No need to stress himself out over it, though it is easier said than done.

35. What are they like as a friend?

Definitely the kind that willing to listen if you need to get shit off of your chest. He’ll either stay silent and let you vent, or try to give the best advice he can offer. The closer you are with him, the more loyal he is. Loyal to the point that he would take a bullet for the person if needed. However, his trust is not easily earned even if it may seem like it. And his trust can be easily broken after one drastic mistake.

36. What are they like as a partner?

Luke’s alright with PDA, and will be the initiator if his partner is also okay with it. Frank’s prefers to keep major acts of affection when it’s just the two of them, which Luke is alright with. He may hold his hand, or rub his back while around others, but keeps it between them for the most part. One of his key things is that he never wants Frank to doubt their love or their relationship. Whether directly or indirectly, he’ll do what it takes to get it through Frank’s thick head that he loves him no matter what, that’s he’s here to stay. This especially comes into play after Frank ends up in a wheelchair.

38. Did/do they go anywhere special for vacations?

Luke loves and misses the beach from time to time, so I imagine Frank likes to take him down whether on a date or some bonding time with the kids. I’m stealing one of Gabby’s ideas because I like the idea of them going up to Alaska to visit Alex, especially during holidays like Forth of July where the load commotion is just too much for them. I also imagine that Frank likes to camp, and loves to take Luke and kids out, or sometimes just Luke, just to get away from civilization for a while.

41. What’s their morning routine like?

He tends to get up pretty early. Usually walks to the kitchen, still in his pjs, and starts making some coffee for Frank if he’s not up yet. Sometimes, if Johnny is awake, Luke will carry him to the kitchen to give him his breakfast early. If Frank wakes up before Luke, Frank tends to take care of Johnny, so Luke will get a head start on breakfast.

47. Answered!

49. What are some themes tied to your character’s story?

Coming of Age, betrayal, forgiveness, family, heroism, revenge, good vs. evil (thought its not black and white), love and sacrifice, dealing with a legacy.

52. How are you and your character the same? How are you different?

Considering I see him as a self-insert, there’s a lot we have in common. We’re both trans masc bi guys. Both love the same marine LMAO. Similar fashion styles, or at least how I want my wardrobe to look at some point. Neither of us are very open about any mental health issues we have and we both speak fluent sarcasm.

Difference include body shapes. He’s on T and has top surgery, and I don’t (yet). He’s definitely more athletic, and probably braver. Definitely more confident in himself and his abilities.

53. Expectations vs Reality: what did you expect and what did you get with this character?

Honestly, he’s what I expected overall. He’s gone through years of changes, like him and Leila used to be one character lmao. But now I can confidently say that he’s where I want him to be for the most part.

54. What does your character want, and what do they need?

Luke’s always just wanted a family. He wanted to meet his dad, he wanted his mom to come home, he wanted to believe that he would find love, and he got two of those things. In terms of needs; some closure, and a break lmao.

55. What’s your character’s core trait? What’s their best trait? What’s their worst trait? When happens when these all interact with each other?

His core trait would probably be that’s he devoted. He’s devoted to his family, the brotherhood, the people he tries to protect. But he’s also devoted to get rid of Amelia and all of the Black Ops antagonists. One of his best is that he’s loyal; it goes hand in hand with being devoted. Worst? He tends to be impulsive, especially on the field.

The best example of the three coming together is when Luke decided to go back to Vietnam to look for Frank. His loyalty and devotion to Frank are key reason why he doesn’t believe Frank isn’t just straight up dead, and his impulsiveness led him to throw out any possibility of the mission going to shit. He just wanted to find Frank.

56. What’s your overall goal with this character? Will they get a happy ending or will they succumb to their faults?

I’m a gay yearning motherfucker, so my goal was to have someone bang Woods for me since I can’t lmao. I live vicariously through him to live out my gay ass dreams. And I want him to have a happy ending because my son deserves it.

#ty!!!! even though you made me work LMAO jk #asks #oc: luke #Anonymous #hope these are okay bc my brain kept spacing a lot lmao

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homexgrown · 3 years

Photo

little bit of devil in those angel eyes

Meet Harper Rhodes, she is 26 years old and is originally from Cape Cod Massachusetts. Currently she is the owner CrossRhodes Motel. People who know her would say she is Independent and Humorous, but she can also be Jealous and spiteful if you cross her.

@ohshecute: is having wine at noon acceptable? asking for a friend... its me I’m the friend.

🎵 currently listening to: Farewell - By girlfriends

📺 currently binge watching: always switching between parks & rec and schitts creek

THE STORY IN HER OWN WORDS: The Rhodes have been in cape cod for three generations. Alfred Rhodes moved to the small town when he was young from somewhere out west. He met Geneivue Priestley when he was fifteen, and after two years, they were married. My dad was born just three years into their happy marriage. Like my grandfather, he grew up in the small town wanting for nothing. You see, both the Rhodes and Priestleys had money so whatever Jensen Rhodes desired was his. When they were twelve years old, he met my mother, Amelia, and I know most people don't find their happily ever after in middle school, but they did. They traveled for a bit after graduating high school took a drive down the coast. Both Attended Berkely University and, after graduation, moved back home where they were married. With my grandfather's help my father opened up a little roadside motel. CrossRhodes Inn was just off the beach and the perfect spot for tourist season. I came exactly two years later, adding joy to the happy couple's life. I want to tell you that my life was a fairytale but sadly my happily ever after fell short. I was only ten years old when my life flipped upside down, literally. I remember that day like it was yesterday, My mom was running late to pick me up from school and I was getting anxious. I was secretly cursing her name as I stood in the cold, kicking up the ice in anger. Where was she? why was she always so late? Why wasn’t she like Allison Franco’s mom who was there early every day with hot chocolate and treats? Why the hell was she such a terrible mother? That was over fifteen years ago but it feels like yesterday. How could I have ever known she was a block away with her car flipped upside down on the side of the road? I still remember it all, the sound of the siren rushing towards me in the distance. The name of the cop who picked me up, that stupid fucking Christmas song that was playing on the radio on the drive to the station, and the silence that filled the car on the way to the hospital. The worst day of my life was followed by another eight terrible years. At Eleven, my grandfather died, my grandmother, following him months after. The loss must have been too much for him because it was at this time that my father started to drink. It wasn't long before the inn turned to shit, overrun by drug addicts and the worst kind of people. I watched him spend most of his money on booze, and cried as my childhood home became a junkyard. It was as if I had fallen from grace, the little girl who was born into riches now scrambling for change in the couch cushions to buy eggs because she couldn’t touch her inheritance and her father was checked out. it was a nightmare. So once I graduated, I ran, and I had no intention of looking back. Because I knew San Francisco would be different, It was magical somehow, a place my mother grew would be the place to shape me too. When I first saw the pamphlet for Berkely I was hooked, there was nowhere else for me so despite the rollercoaster that was my life I made sure to work my ass off to get there. At eighteen, I was finally able to manage my account, which made paying for school and big city life a lot easier than it would have been without it. I had everything I needed in the bay, and Cape Cod was far from my mind until I got that dreadful call. Dad had finally succumbed to his alcoholism; I shouldn’t have been so surprised I honestly can’t believe his liver lasted so long. So here I am back in this shit town trying to get my dad’s affairs in order, trying to find my place.

#female

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imagine-loki · 6 years

Text

Maelstrom

TITLE: Maelstrom CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 5 AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine helping Loki leave his physically and emotionally abusive girlfriend. You treat him with kindness and respect, and with time, as he falls for you, you teach him that love isn’t supposed to hurt. RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Trigger Warning - This story is going to deal with emotional and physical abuse by a female abuser to her male partner. Maelstrom - a situation or state of confused movement or violent turmoil.

This chapter also references a past suicide.

Shakespeare’s sonnet #27 is posted at the bottom of the fic for reference.

Though she knew it was the right thing to do, Cara felt guilty. It was required if she wanted to look after him. Loki was a good being, he did not deserve it. Eir gave her advice and support with assisting her further if Cara felt she needed her ear and advice again. She also told her to take note of everything to do with it in case it was required later.

The next day, Alfred did not come to the healers' rooms for fresh bandages and salve. By evening, Cara was getting worried. When she finished her usual jobs, she got what she required and informed Eir that she had to do a call before setting off with a promise to return soon.

The guards let her through without issue into the Royal hallway. It was when she arrived at Loki's chambers that she was supposed to wait for consent to enter. Alfred opened the door looking anything but pleased. ‘I should warn you…’ He began as he made room for her to enter the room.

‘It's fine.’ Cara walked over to the table which she had sat at the day before assisting Loki. She had barely gotten to the table when the noise began to become clearly audible. She bit her lips together as the tirade became more and more vicious. After a couple minutes, it did not seem to be ceasing or settling down any bit and having become irate by what she was hearing. She decided to step in. Inhaling deeply, she walked to the door that separated the two rooms and knocked on it confidently.

It was Lucia who opened the door, wearing only some lingerie and Loki's overcoat. ‘Yes?’ Her eyes widened when she realised who was there. ‘What do you want?’

‘The prince is due a bandage change and there is a woman in labour that I have been asked to return to assist on, so may he come out, it will not take long.’

Lucia gave her a momentary angered look before moving slightly. Loki walked past and sat at the table wearing only a pair of pants. He extended his arm dutifully without being asked. He said nothing as she worked on it, Lucia standing over them, watching intently.

Cara said nothing as she worked. More than once she felt him looking at her but she did not return his glance, partly in guilt but also partly because she was angry ask him for not sticking to his own wishes. ‘There.’ She stated. ‘I assume you forgot to send Alfred to the healing rooms, so in case you forget again, I will simply leave some extra bandages and salve here. I need to be available for others, especially when babies are insisting on being born at all sorts of hours, not that they can help it of course.’ she joked. ‘I will let you get back to your evening.’ She rose to leave and finally looked at Loki, feeling her heartbreak at his blatant unhappiness. He begged her with his eyes to stay but without him saying anything, there was nothing she could do. ‘Is there anything else?’

‘No.’ Lucia snapped. ‘Now if you don't mind, we were in the middle of something.’

‘I gathered.’ Cara looked them up and down. ‘My Prince, can I assist you any further?’ SHe asked, giving him the opportunity to say something.

‘No, thank you.’ He mumbled.

‘Very well, good evening.’ Cara walked out of the room without another word or glance back.

‘Well?’ She turned to see Eir cleaning her hands having delivered Lady Ramona’s daughter.

‘Fine.’ Cara dismissed, tidying herself up after assisting.

‘Cara?’ Eir prodded, seeing the anger in the younger woman’s eyes.

‘Please, I just need to finish my notes.’

‘I think you need to talk.’

‘I think I don’t.’

‘Cara?’

‘Why...What madness comes into play when an intelligent and educated man defies the logic of leaving someone so truly horrid?’

‘We cannot say for sure.’ Eir confessed. ‘What happened?’

‘He gave in to her request and allowed her to force him to bed….but if you only saw his face…’

‘Do you think it to be rape?’

‘Honestly, I believe so, yes. He does not want it.’

‘Are you going to reveal his name to me?’

I can't, not until he asks me to help. You and I both know this.’

‘I know it is frustrating.’

‘I became a healer to help people, yet here I stand, watching this shipwreck as though it is in slow motion and I cannot do anything. I'm only permitted to watch while I bear witness to utter carnage.’

‘I know.’ Eir sighed. ‘It goes against our very beings. I remember a girl, I was less than a century in this profession, she got pregnant from a foolish fumble with an older man who used her naivety to trap her, that we suspect, at least. She was so innocent, I remember the shock on her face as being told that she was to be a mother, she had no idea how it even happened. She was married within in the week. Well, the baby came, a little girl, big enough for a first child. The mother was not particularly dainty but good sized child regardless.’ Eir inhaled before she spoke again and when she exhaled, it was almost shaky. ‘He had her back in the healing rooms two weeks later suffering from damage. He did not even wait for her to heal properly after the birth. She was pregnant again within the year. I told the head healer, we did everything we could within our constraints. She had twelve pregnancies, seven daughters and five miscarriages.’

‘What happened in the end?’

‘She started coming to check up with bruises in the shape of hand marks. Every time we told her it was a girl, she shook and she cried. Three of the miscarriages occurred within the first two days of the revealing of the gender. She had such a difficult life. And her parents all but ignored her because of the “shame” she had brought them. She loves her children but it became too much.’

‘How old was she?’

‘She was barely scraping nine hundred when I diagnosed her first pregnancy. She was not even twelve hundred when I pronounced her death from jumping from the highest balcony she could access.’

‘Norns.’

‘I begged her, I begged her so often let me help her. But she refused.’

‘I…’ Cara could not bare Loki doing something similar.

‘Try and get him to ask for help, Cara. Whoever this boy is, try and get him to see sense.’

‘’And if I can't?’

‘One of the hardest realisations you will ever come to in this life is that we cannot save everyone.’

‘I just feel so conflicted.’

‘How so?’

‘I am not particularly sure. How am I supposed to respect boundaries when such foul crimes are being committed? It is so wrong to be in such a position.’

‘Help him see that.’

‘He thinks men cannot be the victim.’

Eir shook her head. ‘Men are more often the perpetrator but they are as able to be the victim too. Try and help him see that.’

‘I will try.’

It was while she was writing more patient notes late the next day when Cara heard the door of the healing room open. She paid little heed to it as there were other healers still in the ward.

‘Excuse me, where would I find Healer Cara?’

‘Her office is the third on the right.’ Amelia, a new apprentice directed.

‘Thank you.’

Cara put away the notes she had readied for whoever was about to arrive. Oddly, the same feeling she experienced in her gut before came to her again. She rose from her chair and walked over to the door before the man on the other side could even knock. ‘Oh’.

‘Alfred, is everything alright?’ She asked worriedly as she let him in. ‘Is the Prince having an issue with the bandage?’ Her voice was low until she closed the door to ensure Loki’s privacy. As soon as it clicked shut, she raised her voice to a more normal level. ‘You can speak freely now, these rooms are protected to ensure confidentiality.’

‘When you arrived yesterday…’

Cara inhaled. ‘Yes?’

‘I…’ She cocked her head slightly. With a shaking breath, Alfred glowed green and turned to Loki.

‘Oh, wow.’ Cara had not expected that

‘I’m sorry.’

‘What for?

‘What you witnessed.’

‘I came back here, and within ten minutes of my returning, Lady Ramona accidentally had her birthing sac rupture on me as I aided Eir during the labour, I can assure you, I am very much aware of intimacy and indeed, its repercussions.’ She dismissed.

‘Are you allowed tell me that? I thought you were bound to secrecy?’ Loki questioned.

Cara looked at him, confused. ‘Lord Henry declared it to a full dining room last evening after dinner and again at breakfast and lunch today that after two boys, he finally gave his beloved Ramona the daughter she yearned for so greatly. It is more public knowledge now than knowing that your father is the Allfather. I suspect he has even gone and told that stray cat that dallies outside the kitchens at this stage.’ She laughed as she sat behind her desk again

‘Oh...I thought…’

‘I respect all of my patient’s privacy.’ Her tone revealed her disapproval of such a thought.

‘I just...how?’

‘How what?’

‘How do I do it?’

‘Do what?’ Cara walked around her desk, begging to herself that what she suspected he was trying to say was, in fact, the words he was trying to get out.

‘Get her to stop?’

‘You can’t, only she can stop her. She has to choose to stop.’

‘I need…’

‘You need to end it. She is not good for you, My Prince.’ She took his hand in hers.

‘But I will never find someone to love me again.’

‘This is not love.’ Cara explained in a sympathetic voice. ‘We do not hurt those we love. We do not make them feel that they are a burden or not worthy of our time and love. She does not love you.’ She declared. ‘You deserve love, someone who, when she sees you, her whole face brightens up, who respects you, who…’ she paused and looked at Loki, who was fighting back tears. ‘My Prince?’ She did it to comfort him. She reached up and went to put her hand to his cheek but he winced and drew back before she even touched him. She felt herself fighting back her own tears as she noticed how scared he was. ‘You do not deserve to fear the touch of another.’

As his resolve broke, Cara noticed his right eye become severely bloodshot. Seeing her concern, Loki lifted the spell that he placed on himself. Cara’s eyes widened as his face changed from pale perfect skin to a mottled swollen mess. ‘I….I couldn’t...perform.’

Cara’s heart broke. ‘Loki…’

‘I always…..I wanted it to be on my terms, with someone I...who made me want to, but I couldn’t and she…’

‘That is how you don’t know about Lord Henry and Lady Ramona’s daughter, you were hiding.’

‘I am a coward.’

‘No, no my Prince, you are no such thing, cease that thought right now. You do not deserve this, you did nothing to deserve any of it.’ She gently brought her hand to the side of his face that was not injured. Startled at first, Loki did not know how to react but a moment later, he leant into her touch. ‘We all just want to be loved. There is no shame in that.’

‘You don’t have anyone.’

‘I don’t entertain thoughts of those I do not think will make me happy.’ She explained. ‘I will find my Prince, when the time's right, I will settle for nothing else. I rather be alone than be someone who I don’t feel I could love fully, it’s not right.’

‘Help me.’ She looked at him. ‘Please.’

‘Do you want to just get away from her or do you want to press charges?’

‘I just want to be free.’

‘We’ll think of something.’ She promised, putting her hand on his, gently squeezing it. ‘When was the last time you felt good about you?’

‘I can hardly remember.’

‘Do what makes you happy Loki, be happy.’

‘She will not accept it.’

‘And you should not accept her not accepting it. We can only be responsible for us.’

Loki could not help but feel sceptical of her words. ‘Can I talk to you?’

‘Of course, we are talking now.’ She smiled.

‘No, just normal talking, please.’

Cara thought of the work she still had to complete, as well as her tiredness from a long tedious day before smiling again. ‘Sonnet Twenty-seven.’ Loki’s brows furrowed. ‘Today, that would be my sonnet of choice.’

Loki flicked through the words in his head and smiled back. ‘That’s a good one.’ Then his smile fell. ‘I am not stopping you leaving, am I?’ He began to turn for the door.

‘Not at all.’ Cara fibbed ‘What about you?’

‘No, I had sent word that I was a little ill so no one has bothered me...oh, you mean the sonnets, I guess….I can’t remember.’

Cara gave a small laugh. ‘Well, we can talk more on it when you do.’ She offered.

‘I would like that.’

Cara was about to speak again when there was a knock on the door. She walked over and opened it slightly. ‘Yes?’ Her voice was polite.

‘Healer Eir gave this to me and said that it was for your eyes only.’

‘Thank you, Amelia.’ She smiled, taking the file, ensuring the apprentice could not see who the other occupant of the room was. She noted the awkward manner in which Amelia was looking at her. ‘Can I do anything else for you?’

‘At the back of the file is my consent for that requires signing to allow me…’

‘I was under the impression that you are to follow Healer Amie?’

‘Yes, but she is away this week and I checked, any qualified healer can sign it and it…’

‘Is due tomorrow.’ Cara noted the date that is was supposed to be returned by the following day. ‘I see. I promise I will have it logged tonight.’

‘Thank you, Healer Cara.’

‘No problem, now, I have a patient that needs me here, I will be out to you soon.’

‘Of course, I'm sorry to have disturbed you.’ Amelia rushed off.

Cara walked back in and placed the form and her document file and the file in a drawer within her desk. ‘My apologies.’

‘Why did you become a healer?’ Loki asked curiously. ‘Tyr is incredibly wealthy, you don't need to work.’

‘No one becomes a healer for financial gain, trust me.’ Cara laughed. ‘I have wanted to be one since I was a child. Father came home for the battle on Nidavellir having received several bad wounds. I watched as Healer May, she was the old head healer before Eir, tended to him. She asked me if I wanted to help, I think she just wanted to calm my anxiousness at him being wounded but I loved every moment of it. I decided then I would become one. It became my goal just as my sister's one was to become a warrior. well, she wanted to be a Valkyrie but they're all gone so she settled for looking for trouble with Thor and his other friends under the guise of being a warrior instead.’

Loki chuckled at what he would describe as an accurate description of Thor and his friends galavanting. ‘And what about Lucas?’

‘Lucas always loved inter-realm relations. When father stepped down from the army and took a more political and diplomatic role, Lucas decided when watching him but that is what he wished for too.’

‘You are all very happy.’

‘What would you like to do?’

‘Travel, and study in Vanaheim and Alfheim for a century or two, broaden my seidr.’

‘Why don’t you?’

‘Lucia….’

‘She is not relevant in this.’

‘She said it was stupid, that I should just be more like Thor.’ There was a clear bitterness in his tone.

‘Does she often compare you to your brother?’

‘Yes, she does. Apparently, he would not be so….’

Cara took his hand as she had done many times before. ‘It’s alright.’

‘I am not as good as him.’

‘You are not Thor, you are Loki, and you are as good as Thor. Maybe not at the same things but you are as valid as he is, never forget that.’

‘You always say these things, these words to lift a being.’

‘You need to hear them but I believe them also.’

‘Of all the beings, why are you so nice to me?’

‘I am nice to all my patients. My role is to tend to your wellbeing in every way. I remember when we were growing up, you were always your own being. I have always liked our interactions, as infrequent as they were while we were younger.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, I always found you to very interesting to speak with or when you were speaking to Lucas, as the case was. We have a similar taste in literature, I find myself enjoying and looking forward to my time speaking with you on certain matters.’ Loki’s eyes brightened significantly at her words.

It was past midnight when Cara crashed onto her bed. Loki had stayed in her office for a few hours, then with her notes and ensuring Amelia’s forms were sent, she was very much tempted to sleep in her office, but instead, she forced herself to her bed.

Shakespeare sonnet #27

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed, The dear repose for limbs with travel tired; But then begins a journey in my head, To work my mind, when body's work's expired: For then my thoughts (from far where I abide) Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee, And keep my drooping eyelids open wide, Looking on darkness which the blind do see: Save that my soul's imaginary sight Presents thy shadow to my sightless view, Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night, Makes black night beauteous and her old face new. Lo, thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind, For thee, and for myself, no quiet find.

#loki #angst #submission #submitted fic #chapter 5 #wolfpawn #maelstrom #trigger warning #emtional abuse #physical abuse #partner abuse #mentions of suicide

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amrium · 6 years

Text

Blue, Purple and Stitches

A Heroic stunt puts him in the hospital but it's a win-win because the girl stays alive and he gets to watch Matthew play Nurse.

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Alfred hates the Hospital,

It's a white and colourless room that reminds him of death and it's so silent you can hear your own heart beat in your ears America hates it, so you can imagine he wasn't in a great mood when he woke up in a hospital bed, an IV hooked up to his arm and the slight beep beep beep of his heart monitor driving him to the dark abyss of anxiousness and frustration.

Alfred slammed the call button in a rushed manner, he needed the nurse to get him out of here as soon as possible "Mr. Jones?" The nurse called "Uh yea h, in here!" What the hell? Of course she knew where he was "Ah, welcome back to consciousness Mr. Jones I'm your nurse, Amelia Sarachove" America smiled one simple question ringing in his head "What happened to me?" the blonde asked, he was covered in bruises and had a small stitch right above his left eyebrow, he felt no pain but he was a nation a super power to be exact that was normal.

"Oh" she sounded uncertain and twirled her amber hair "You were in quite the accident Mr. Jones" Alfred licked his lips to relieve some of the dryness "The story I was told is that you pushed a 9 year old girl out of the way of a oncoming truck that had ran a red light" Amelia put a hand over her heart "Very Heroic, if I say so myself Mr. Jones" she smiled at him and he couldn't help but feel triumphant, Because he was a hero.

"How's the girl?" America asked "She's absolutely fine, just a scraped knee which we put a bandaged on!" Sarachove laughed "also" he pondered his words "I'm not in any pain" she nodded "That mean the Morphine is working, when you came in you seemed pretty uncomfortable you had a a broken rib fractured wrist and you twisted your ankle. You had no organ damage which is ideal, not to mention you injuries are healing extraordinarily fast Mr. Jones" she sounded confused when she said that. "You should be out of here in only a few days"

Did she not know he was a nation? "I'm a....nation" he said slowly and nonchalantly and her brows raised in surprise "Okay? Uh..." She must not understand "Where's my brief case? I'll show you my ID" Blue eyes offered but green eyes refused "No no! I understand I was told that. It just caught me by surprise, I mean I'm nursing an immortal nation!" she squealed

The blonde was hardly listening anymore just nodding along when he saw fit he was just hit by a truck he's not in the most talkative mood "Oh and also We have called you emergency contact-" What? "Which one? ...Or who?" He asked rather loudly "Matthew Williams, he should be on his way" Thank God, Alfred doesn't think he can put up with Arthur's nagging, Not in his state.

America sinks In his covering , his headache is coming back on, he just wants to close his eyes "It's seems you'd like your rest Mr. Jones, I'll leave you alone now, sleep well." And Amelia is gone, he's tired he closes his blue eyes and he drifts away

When Alfred awakes his head is spinning and he groans "Hey, Al?" Alfred turns and groans again, he doesn't feel well "Hey? You okay?" He moans and fists the bed sheet his head is spinning "Alfred?! God dammit!" he feels a warm pressure on his hand and Alfred immediately calms down breathing deeply out of his mouth America peeks his blue eyes out from under his eyelids

Blue meets a beautiful pair of worried tired Violet eyes "Ma..ttie?" He breaths Matthew smiles "That's me" he sighs "The nurse told me what happened, that was a stunt you pulled Jones" The strawberry blonde massages the crown of Alfred's head lovingly a smitten expression on his face "Did I scare you?" Alfred asks with a smile and Matthew smiles back and pinches his ear between his fingers "What the hell kind of question is that? Of course you scared me" the super power winces

"Ow! Okay okay, sorry" he squeaks "I'm sorry" There's Silence and neither speak content with the affectionate aura that filled the room their fingers intertwined "Matt?"

"Ya?"

"I..I love you"

Matthew smiled cheeks dusted with a light pink blush

"I love you too"

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It isn't my best work I know, this is really shitty but I haven't written Hetalia in so long since my Crap nekotalia onsehots especially not Amecan so gimme a break I just needed fluffy Amecan

Word count: 743

#Hetalia #aph america #Aph Canada #Amecan #fluff #hospitals #My writing

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bellringermal · 6 years

Note

so like, you told us how Gehrman and Maria got together, but how’d it go for all these other ships you got here?

Micolash and Rom were research partners for quite some time before they ‘accidentally’ ended up in bed together. Too many sedatives and college stress to relieve were to blame. Rom was really embarrassed (and quite furious) the next morning and refused to speak with him for days. Micolash, on the other hand, was surprisingly chill about it and even asked her if “it was really that bad” lol. After some time, Rom calmed down but still tried to ignore what happened between them because she was ashamed of it (largely because Micolash of all people, was involved) until Maria and Gratia managed to get it off her chest by bombarding the poor student with questions. In the end, she asked Micolash to forgive her for her rude behaviour and the two of them finally got back to work together. As time went on tho, it became obvious that neither of them was really over it yet and ended up together in the end uwu.

Laurence saw Ludwig the day he arrived in Byrgenwerth and immediately was smitten. Ludwig, on the other hand, grew close to Laurence because of his ideals and charisma. He truly admired that brilliant young man and wanted to do anything in his power to see his project succeed, for he genuinely believed in Laurence’s good intentions. Helping him, was Ludwig’s way to make a difference and pursue his goal of becoming ‘a true knight’ (which he somehow manages to accomplish, when Laurence is taken under Annalise’s wing and Ludwig and Maria are tasked to teach the Cainhurst Knights the art of hunting). Both their careers and ambitions are fueled by the other’s presence and they need each other’s help to get where they want to be. This led to them to developing a strong sense of camaraderie, sharing both triumphs and defeats and slowly made their friendship blossom into romance. All sounds good and well, but theirs is possibly the most unhealthy relationship in my story since Laurence is absolutely the one in control and he hides a TON of stuff from Ludwig, mostly concerning his true ambition which is quite fucked up to begin with. Laurence HAS good intentions but his (senseless) rivalry with Willem and later on with Annalise herself clouds his judgment far too often. No matter how fond of Ludwig he may be, he will always prioritize the interest of the Church over his -or Amelia’s- and Ludwig, not being exactly the brightest of the bunch, constantly falls for it.

Archibald and Izzy have quite an interesting relationship that somehow mirrors that of Gehrman and Maria but in reverse, since in this case it is Izzy who fears to be rejected by the man of her dreams ;). Their personalities seem to be total opposites until you get to know them well, Archibald can be as impulsive and reckless as Izzy is and she totally has a softer and more introvert side hidden under her outspoken (and often quite rude) personality. Like most characters in this list, even theirs is a relationship born out of a shared goal. Izzy is not a scientist but she understands how the beastly scourge affects people on an instinctive level. Her lack of good manners isn’t just a quirk, it actually shows how little she is tied up by moral constraints and that makes her the best person to ‘dive’ into the most unpleasant depths of the human nature and came back unscarred. For this reason, she is also way less proficient than Gehrman in hiding her feelings for her loved one (because she has no shame XD even if she feels like she should) and all that took her was a little push in the right direction.

Other couples mentioned in my story are Konrad and Gratia (but they don’t last :either, since Amelia ends up with her lovely girlfriend pretty early on in the story) and of course the less lore-friendly of it all… the Bloody Crow/Alfred ship, which works for me only if Alfred gets 100% out of character so I am not even going to start with that one XD

#anon ask #bloodborne #ships #gehrmaria #irreverent izzy #archibald #ludwig the accursed #laurence the first vicar #simple gratia #micolash #rom

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chaiteakusuri · 7 years

Text

Running with a Ghost: Chapter 2

Chp:1 Read Chp 2 on my AO3.

Running with a Ghost: Chapter 2: Electrical Surge

After that evening, Alfred couldn’t seem to take his mind off the events from the evening prior. The more he thought about it, the more unsettled he felt; and no matter how often he would push the thoughts from his mind, they would just re-emerge later, with increasing intensity. Alfred was stirred enough by the event that not only had he contacted the city’s park and recreations department via email, but he also left them a message and even sent a handwritten letter to the head of the department.

If there was one thing Alfred was horrified of, it was ghosts. This fact only drove Alfred to even greater lengths to disprove the notion that anything involving the supernatural occurred that evening. The amounts of horror films Alfred had been binge watching the evenings prior to the incident hadn’t eased his mind any and he concluded that he would put the “horror movie marathon spook-tacular” on hold for the time being.

Furthermore, despite his extreme desire not to, the American still willed himself outside of his house each evening to maintain his workout routine. He did, however, chose a different running path instead of the usual one, even though he liked the new path less. He also considered moving his runs to the mornings, but, to his dismay, his schedule conflicted with all the times he was willing to drag himself early out of bed for a run.

----------------

Five days had passed and Alfred had almost completely forgotten the “lamp post incident”. Alfred was waiting for a meeting to begin that day and was very pleased to see that he had gotten a reply to his email from the park and recreations department. The email header read “Sunlit trail lamp post light replacements...”. Upon opening the email, he immediately found solace upon reading the words “Dear Alfred Jones, we received your email and would like to assure you that the lamp-post lights were replaced on---”

“Alfred!” One of his co-workers snapped upon noticing he was on his phone as the meeting was beginning.

Alfred quickly closed the tab on his phone and tucked the phone into his work bag. “Yeah, yeah. Geez, I was just waiting for you old guys to be ready to go.” He teased, feeling completely relieved and refreshed that the problem had been sorted out and that he would safely be able to return to the Sunlit trail for his runs. Alfred’s co-worker harrumphed in response and began going over the outline of the meeting. Aside from the chiding Alfred had received later for his comment, the American was otherwise completely contented and had decided that he would mark the good news with the return of his normally scheduled runs.

When evening came, it was pleasantly crisp; “Perfect for jogging” Alfred would say to himself as he readied himself that evening. Having decided to kick things off fast that evening, Alfred finished his warm up at his home and jogged straight from his place to the running path on the Sunlit trail.

As Alfred came to the main entrance of the trail, he flashed a grin at the lamp post upon seeing no abnormal activities from it. Just a steady, calm glow of normal light.

“Nice.” Alfred exhaled as he jogged passed, leaving the lamp behind him and keeping his eyes from the memorial slab. Perhaps it happened in time with his blinking, but Alfred hadn’t seen that the very same lamp post he just passed flashed mere moments after Alfred had passed by. As Alfred jogged, he took time to admire the gardens and fixtures as he went by; they looked particularly stunning this evening with the full moon shining down on them and the soft glow of the lamp posts highlighting their edges and features.

As Alfred continued to jog, enjoying his music, he failed to note that as he ran, the glow from the lamps that he was appreciating were seeming to flicker as he jogged passed. The flickering only came to the American’s attention when he was halfway through the two-and-a-half-mile looping trail. Alfred had been jogging passed one of the trail’s small gardens when a nearby lamp post began strobing erratically.

Alfred gasped softly, mildly startled by the sudden strobing, “Geez.” Alfred breathed, panting softly as he abruptly stopped jogging. Alfred gave the area a quick look around, his music still blaring in his ears. “They must have missed that one.” he panted before re-entering his jog, his pace slightly slower than before. Although relatively unsettled, Alfred continued jogging, trying every way possible to keep his mind off the creepy topic. He settled on thinking of new possible battle strategies in his recently purchased game.

“If I put Tai-le in the front, Ewan could back her up even though she’s a glass cannon.” Alfred pondered while jogging “And Ariel could heal and buff them so--” Alfred's thoughts were ripped from strategy as a loud, almost defining electrical sound cracked from the lamp post to his immediate right. For the sound to make it through the blonde’s headphones, Alfred shuddered to think how loud it actually was and Alfred flinched away from the lamp post, visibly jarred.

“Christ.” Alfred hissed under his breath, running forwards, away from the offending lamp. “I thought that they said that these bulbs and stuff were replaced!” He shouted as he saw lights in the close proximity flickering. Unsettled by the apparently sudden upheaval, Alfred whipped his phone out and tapped furiously at the screen until he had the email menu. As he went to open the email, however, there was a sudden, drastic drop in wi-fi signal and data connectivity and his web-browser crashed. “Aw c’mon!” Alfred cried in dismay, having never experienced such problems with connectivity here before. Alfred then noticed, while impatiently waiting for the browser to reopen, that he has missed two calls somehow. He knit his brow and moved his attention to the phone application. The blonde opened the answering machine and his music cut out in response, allowing him to hear the buzzing of the lamp post he distanced himself from. It seemed to have grown softer as he got farther away- not only because of the increased distance; it was as if the buzz only happened because he had been close to it.

Alfred pried his thoughts from this, however, as he heard the monotone, electronic voice talk to him as he entered the answering machine. “You have: two new messages.” The electronic woman said mechanically “To listen to your messages Pr--” The woman was cut off as Alfred pressed the appropriate button to listen to his messages.

There was a soft click and a breath before Alfred heard and old sounding woman on the other end. “Hello, Mr. Jones. This is Amelia from the parks and recreations department. We received your call and email and would like to inform you that--”

“The lights had been replaced the other day.” Alfred filled in himself, remembering the email he began to read at the meeting. “---had been replaced at the end of summer about a month ago.-” The old woman continued, much to Alfred’s surprise. But, trying to keep his wits about him, Alfred reasoned with himself that a bad rain storm must have recently messed with the lights. “There must be some water er something in the generator... thing.” Alfred said aloud to calm himself.

“However,” The old woman said, capturing the American’s attention again, “To help ease your worries about the condition of the lamps,” She began, although the more the woman spoke, the farther a chill worked up Alfred’s spine. “We sent some of our workers out to the trail you mentioned to see the condition of the lamps.”

Alfred listened on pins and needles; Of course there was something wrong with the lamps! They just haven’t had enough time to replace all of these goddamn lamps yet!

“And we’re happy to inform you that all the lamps are working wonderfully!” The old woman announced happily to Alfred’s extreme displeasure. “Not a flicker or a burnt bulb in the bunch of them.” She continued, a cold, hard knot forming the pit of Alfred’s stomach. “They got back to me just now as I speak so everything down at your trail is perfect! Please continue enjoying using the trail!” She chimed joyfully, to Alfred’s terror.

The kind, old woman continued talking for some time about something, but Alfred had stopped listening. The blood has swiftly drained from his face; he was gripping his phone so tightly his knuckles grew white with the effort.

These lights were not fine; these lights were not working wonderfully. Alfred thought he heard the woman say something about a survey, but Alfred could barely suppress the nauseous feeling swelling his stomach let alone listen properly at that moment.

As if on cue, the “Wonderfully working not-a-flicker-or-burnt-bulb-in-the-bunch” lamp post in the distance began to flicker, violently. Similar to the fashion lights flash at raves, they began flickering. Alfred almost vomited; his breath wasn’t coming fast enough and his breath wasn’t coming slow enough. He felt like he was going to scream, but didn’t have the voice to at that moment as he was petrified in place from sheer terror. It was then, in his horrified silence, that the monotone electronic voice came back again. “End of message.” She said before continuing, “Next message.” the machine said. Alfred gasped shakily. Oh, that’s right, he thought, two messages.

“Surely this next one will be them again calling to tell me how screwed up the lamps really are. A big mistake, but it'll be fine it’ll--” Alfred cut his rambling off as he heard... his music? Alfred listened harder; he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Alfred went through the apps on his phone quickly to his music player to discover that it wasn’t going. Of course it wasn’t playing; it auto stops when on the phone. But, if that’s true

Alfred snapped his gaze behind him as he thought he heard panting. After a moment's investigation, it struck the blonde: it was his own panting. Alfred was about to reach up and tear his headphones out, but just before, he heard a soft crackling and seconds later, a voice he didn’t recognize resonated through the headphones.

“Wait!” Alfred managed to hear faintly through his panting and music, “Stop! Please stop running!” The voice was soft, but it was all it took to chill the American’s blood completely. Upon hearing the words, the lights around him began to flicker, spasming violently, commanding the American’s attention. Horrified, Alfred tore the headphones from his ears to, at least, free him from the sounds. He turned to start a sprint down the way he came, but froze in place, gripped by overwhelming fear as he looked down the path.

Alfred watched, petrified in place as all the lights began flickering in a series. Farther away lights began flickering, strobed angrily, and then the flickering seemed to jump to the next light, infecting it to flicker, strobe and then jump to the next light once again.

The blood fell quickly from his face as the alarming pattern worsened and picked up speed towards the blonde, as if homing in on him. Alfred quickly suppressed the idea of fainting to, instead, spin on his heel and break into a sprint down the remaining lit path ahead. Alfred’s thoughts whirled through his mind with the same amount of coherency and sense that one would expect from an amoeba. Should he keep going straight? Who was that person he heard? How did he not notice them before? Should he turn and face the lights?

Alfred’s mind was torn from his thoughts as he heard a loud ‘pop’ in the distance behind him. Plagued by his curiosity despite everything, Alfred turned his head round as he continued running down the path, expecting to see the armed murderer to add to his nightmare run. The blonde stared behind himself as he continued running, growing ever more distraught as he couldn’t pinpoint the sound. Decided to refuse himself the luxury of stopping to locate the source, Alfred forced his legs to keep moving and snapped his head forward once more as he continued his retreat.

Moments later, the sound came again and then again and again with increasing frequency. Alfred spared another glance over his shoulder and let out a shriek as he saw light after light burst intensely, the bulbs shattering in their advance towards him. “Oh my god! Oh god!” Alfred wailed as he was momentarily unable to remove his eyes from the destruction that was rapidly gaining on him. Pop after pop rang like gunfire through his ears; the sound growing louder and louder as the lights were coming upon him.

Tears of utter dread sprang forth from Alfred’s eyes and a guttural cry ripped through his throat as the light immediately behind him burst, the light directly in front of him doing the same at the exact moment he took another step forward. Tremors racked through his body as he ineptly attempted to keep moving his legs. He blundered forward several more paces, sobbing in consternation as his ears seemed to pick up soft whispers in the wind.

The American struggled to create strangled pleas to whoever or whatever his assailant was; he could feel his consciousness swiftly leaving him despite his best efforts and his desire- need to try and reason with his, assured, going-to-be killer. The whispers- or were they shouts?- continued as he took one more bumbling step forward; his knees buckled as he brought his foot down too quickly onto uneven ground and he suddenly found the ground rising up to meet him. Then, as the last vestiges of his consciousness left him, Alfred felt what could have only been his attacker’s weapon dig into his flesh.

#RusAme #hetalia #APH America #APH Russia #alfred f jones #ivan braginski #My writing #Running with a Ghost

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hipsofsteel · 7 years

Text

Find Out For Yourself

A RusCan fic written during FemSlash February 2015 (FrUk and eventual AmeBel as well)

Prompt: Person A goes by an alias, to the annoyance of B. The only way B will learn A’s name is to “find that out for yourself.”

Anya Braginsky has been using an underground social site for years to speak to other members of the LGBTQ community. Her best friend is a user named MapleBabe, who was her first friend online. Two years after their first online meeting, they both agree to go to Hetalia University, and MapleBabe challenges Anya to discover who she really is. While trying to figure out the mystery, Anya meets Madeline Bonnefoy, a fellow member of the school's women hockey team, and develops a close friendship, all while still trying to discover and meet MapleBabe. She might be a bit closer than she thinks.

PS This work features Trans Girl America

[Chapter Masterpost Here]

Chapter Four: Pain

Natalia didn’t seem comfortable. “This house is huge and I don’t know these people.”

“It’ll be okay. They won’t hurt you, and it’s not like the crime bosses swing through here.”

“How do you know that?” She stated, her hands sitting right above where her knives were hidden.

“Okay, they’re definitely not going to attack you because they are gay. Francis is a bit of a flirt, but he is gayer than gay. Also, they have their own daughter, so they’ll respect your privacy. Just consider the difference between this house and home.”

Natalia sighed. “Fine, let’s go in.”

We entered the house to find Maddie talking to Arthur. Given his red face, I knew they’d been fighting. She turned and smiled. “Ah, Natalia. Good to meet you!”

Natalia nodded, a little taken aback. Maddie was all smiles and sunshine however. “You can stay in my room while you’re here, since I’ll be going back to school tomorrow. I think papa and I saved some of my old clothes in the attic, and they might fit you.”

The bubble parade dragged my sister upstairs. I sighed in relief, until Arthur turned to me.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“I’ll shelter your sister because Maddie asked, but I don’t want you in this house. Get out.”

“Angleterre, that’s no way to treat a guest.” Francis said, sweeping into the room in an explosion of color. That seemed to anger the Englishman more. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner, Anya.”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t want to impose.”

Francis cast a glare at Arthur, and then turned to me. “If you cannot stay for dinner, then I will take you out for dinner. Maddie prepared something for Natalia, but there is a nice little cafe a few streets over that I think you would enjoy…” He said this all while pulling a coat on. “And since you and Maddie have been such good friends, we owe it to you.”

Arthur started to move to the door.

“Angleterre, I thought you told me that you needed to finish the quilt you were making tonight. Why don’t you stay here and do that?”

Before he could object, Francis had grabbed my arm and pulled me out the door.

When we arrived at the cafe, we were greeted by an angry young man.

“Oh, it’s you.” He said, sounding less than thrilled.

“Lovino! How is the business going?”

“Fine, you bastard.”

The place was practically empty, and a slightly older man came out of the kitchens. “Francis! Who’s the young woman with you? Don’t tell me I have to report you to Arthur.”

“I only have the purest intentions for this fine young woman, Antonio. May I have the booth in the back?”

“Only if you answer a question.” Lovino responded, and then turned to me. “What’s the name, beautiful and intimidating?”

I glared at him.

“Okay, fine, try to flirt with a pretty girl and…” Lovino started to say, but the other man unsubtlety kicked him in the shin. This was followed by a volley of curses and a lot of shouting as Francis and I escorted ourselves to the back table.

After placing our orders with Antonio, Francis spoke to me. “Anya, I know that I’ve said a few things that perhaps don’t make me seem like a great parent, but I want to try and get better.”

I paused, and then spoke. “What exactly are you saying?”

“I am a little less rigid in my views than Arthur. I want Al- Amelia back home. I want to support her as much as I can. I want her to know that no matter what, we’ll always be her family.”

“You have to be more sensitive about these things, and listen to her when she talks about it.”

“Yes, I know. I have a lot to learn, for both my daughters. Maddie told me that she was a lesbian yesterday. It’s… well, it’s a lot to take in.”

I nodded.

“Are you and Maddie involved?”

“No, we’re friends, but we aren’t dating.”

He nodded, and then spoke. “If you can talk to Amelia someway, tell her that I love her and want her home, okay? And also tell her that I will fully support her in any argument against Arthur.”

I nodded.

We ate our meals with a constant stream of chatter. Antonio and Francis had been friends for a long time, and despite the flirting, I quickly realized Lovino was in love with Antonio.

As Francis and I finally departed, I asked him. “What’s between Lovino and Antonio?”

“They’ve been friends for years. Lovino’s been trying to drop hints to Antonio this whole time, but he’s been painfully oblivious. Antonio’s the only person in this whole town that doesn’t realize Lovino’s in love with him.”

“That must be a pain in the ass.”

“Oh, it is. Arthur was the same way. You could drop all the hints you wanted, but unless you say it to them directly, they won’t ever figure it out.”

We went back to the house. Francis invited me in.

Natalia came over and spoke. “Hey, thanks for bringing me here.”

She had visibly relaxed somewhat, and was even wearing a new set of clothes, although they were slightly musty.

I nodded. “I have to go back to the dorms now. Are you going to be okay here?”

“Yeah.”

AnyaBee is online

AnyaBee: Hey, I have some news.

LifeNLiberty: Is it the type that makes me leap up and down with joy?

AnyaBee: Francis took me out to dinner tonight and told me that he loves you no matter what. He even referred to you with female pronouns, though once he slipped up and called you Al. But overall, he did pretty well.

LifeNLiberty: What about my biological dad?

AnyaBee: Francis said he’d help you in all the fights you have with him.

LifeNLiberty: That’s not enough.

AnyaBee: Amelia, I don’t want to pressure you, but you’ve been gone for two weeks now. Don’t you think it’s time to come home?

LifeNLiberty: No. I want my dad to love me. Francis might have helped raised me, but he’s not family the same way that dad is. Until dad is at least going to try and accept me, I’m not going home.

AnyaBee: Okay. Stay safe, alright?

LifeNLiberty: Will do. Good night.

Natalia called me every day. Sofia started to visit her at the Bonnefoy-Kirkland house. My parents decided it was good riddance and just dropped all of Natalia’s stuff off in the middle of the night.

I continued at school. It was April now, and spring term was coming to a close. Hockey season was over, and I was able to focus on my studies.

Maddie and I were laying on the floor with textbooks in front of us. I was quizzing myself on my astronomy, she was practicing her explanations of the carbon cycle in nature. Odeta was off in one of her finals already. I didn’t understand how she was able to keep going.

Suddenly my computer beeped. I sighed and went over to see what it wanted.

HONDA_K has sent you a message.

HONDA_K asks: Anya, you need to get over to Mercy Hospital right now. Amelia’s in the emergency room, and it looks pretty bad. Please respond ASAP.

I froze and then typed a reply back.

AnyaBee: Maddie with me. Will be there ASAP.

I turned and slammed my books shut. “Study time is over. We have to go.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Amelia’s in the hospital.”

We arrived as fast as we could. A young man approached us. I guessed he was Honda.

“Maddie, Anya?”

I nodded. “Are you Honda?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s going on?”

“Maddie, met Amelia’s boyfriend. She’s been living with him since the end of February.”

Maddie paused, and then growled at me. “You’ve been in touch with her the whole time, haven’t you?”

I didn’t answer with the proper response. “Look, we have more pressing things to think about right now. What happened?”

Honda sat down in the nearest chair. “We were standing at the bus stop, and she was crying. I asked her what was wrong, and she said she was just tired. I went over to get her a cup of coffee when suddenly she sprinted out into the middle of the street. A car just slammed into her…”

His voice faded out, and then he shook with sobs held inside.

Maddie looked terrified. I paused, and then spoke. “Should I call your dads?”

She nodded, sitting down next to Honda.

I called the house and got Arthur. “Hello?”

“Hello Arthur, it’s Anya…”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Anya.”

“Arthur, it’s important.”

He hung up. That pissed me off. I tried Francis’s cell, but it was turned off, because I just got a pre-recorded This number is not available at this time message.

I finally called another cell number, the newest addition to my contacts.

After a few attempts, I was answered. “Anya, I’m at school, this had better be good. My new teachers already don’t like me a lot.”

“Look, I need you to call Arthur and tell him his kid is in the hospital. I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t listen and Francis has his phone turned off. Just tell him that we’re at Mercy Hospital’s ER, and he needs to get here now.”

There was a pause, and then she spoke. “Will do.”

Half an hour later, a stressed Englishman entered the ER. He saw us and came right over. “What’s going on?”

“Amelia tried to kill herself.” I stated.

“You mean Alfred.”

Madeline stood up. “No, we mean Amelia.”

He glared at me, even though he was speaking to Maddie. “Alfred is your brother. He is not a girl, nor was he named Amelia.”

Honda hadn’t said anything yet. I think he was trying to disappear. After all, the angry Englishman didn’t know Honda had been hiding Amelia since February.

I grabbed Arthur’s arm and pulled him up. He was shorter than I was, and the movement startled him. I stared at him. “Listen to me right now, Arthur Kirkland.”

He tried to pull free, but I didn’t let go. Finally he stopped. “What do you want?”

“I want you to understand something very important. You said that if Alfred became Amelia, he’d be throwing his life away, and end up dead in a ditch. What you don’t understand is how he’ll get there. If there’s no one to love him, no one to talk to, he will be dead. Amelia told me something while she was gone. She doesn’t care how much Maddie, Francis, her boyfriends, and her other friends try to help her. The person whose love she wants most is yours. You’re her biological father, the man who raised her. You say that no son of yours will throw their lives away for some stupid dream, but what you don’t see is who destroyed them in the first place.”

“What are you implying?”

“If you decide you don’t want to be part of Amelia’s life because she’s not what you want, then maybe you’re the reason she’ll be dead in a ditch. She said she was tired. What was she tired of, I wonder, except I don’t have to. She was tired of not having your love, and that’s why she stepped out onto that street. That’s why she let herself be hit by that car. She was exhausted, and you were the reason.”

Maddie stared at me.

“If you don’t want to accept Amelia, then I don’t think you’re going to ever have a daughter or a son. If you continue to hate her, then I suspect that she will never come home. Maybe it’ll be because she’s dead, but I think she’s stronger than that. I think it’ll be because she knew the only way she could survive was to avoid you for the rest of her life.”

He stared at me as well now. I dropped his arm.

“If you won’t love your child, then they don’t need you as a parent.” I stated.

A nurse came out. “Honda?” He stood. “She’s out of surgery now. Is this his- I mean, her family?”

“Yeah.”

Arthur turned towards Honda, looking confused.

“She’s in the ICU. You can go back and see her, although she’s asleep.”

They guided us to the ICU, and Honda and Maddie went in. But I stopped and blocked Arthur from entering.

“What are you doing?"

“Asking you to make a choice.”

“Right now?”

I nodded. “If you don’t want to accept Amelia as who she is, then you are going to turn around and leave.”

“You can’t do this. I’m her father! I mean, his father!”

I looked at him for a long time. He seemed to turn cherry red.

“Arthur, tell me, is that your son whom you’re going to force to be miserable every day the rest of his life, or is that the daughter you’ve lovingly raised?”

He paused, and then leaned against the wall, visibly shaking.

“I just don’t want something to happen. I raised him since he was born, loved him, cooked for him, sang him to sleep. I want him to be safe.”

“Then let Alfred go, and welcome Amelia into your heart.”

At that moment, Francis came down the hall. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know anything until Natalia called me!”

Arthur turned and pulled the Frenchman into the hug, and began to cry. Francis looked at me, his eyes growing wide with worry. I mouthed She’s fine to him, and he relaxed a little.

Finally Arthur spoke. “I’ve been a horrible father.”

“Angleterre…”

“She needed me, but I couldn’t do it. God fucking damn it, it’s all my fault, isn’t it?”

Francis started cooing and calming Arthur, guiding him over to a bench and sitting him down. I paused, and then headed into the ICU.

Kiku sat in the chair, staring, and Maddie stood nearby, looking at her sister.

There were still some incredibly obvious masculine features, such as the darkening of her facial hair, but Amelia’s hair was longer. Down to her shoulders in a bob-style, with big loose curls.

There was a cut across the side of her face, and she was bandaged on nearly every inch of her body. Her glasses, cracked, had been set off to the side.

Maddie turned to face me. “How is he?”

“Your papa arrived, and he’s not doing all that great, but I think we’ve had a breakthrough.”

She nodded, and then looked at her watch. “You know, Nat’s at the house right now.”

“I’ll go out and stay with her if you want.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

We both exited the ICU. Maddie went over to her dads. She took Arthur’s hands, and he looked up at her.

“Wanna go see how Amelia’s doing dad?”

He paused, and then nodded. “Let’s go see her.”

I smiled a little. That slight change gave me the smallest hope for a victory, more than I had had for a while.

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hipsofsteel · 7 years

Text

Find Out For Yourself

A RusCan fic written during FemSlash February 2015 (FrUk and eventual AmeBel as well)

Prompt: Person A goes by an alias, to the annoyance of B. The only way B will learn A’s name is to “find that out for yourself.”

PS This work features Trans Girl America

[Chapter Masterpost Here]

Chapter Three: Fear

I should have just swallowed a grenade.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, TO STOP LOOKING?” Maddie shouted when I called her.

“She contacted me. She won’t come home until she knows how your parents are acting. She told me she’s at a safe place with a friend.”

“And why did she call you when she could have called me?!”

“She didn’t call me, used a profile on the site, and then she deleted it! I have no way of contacting her again!”

Well, that was a lie. Kiku’s profile had two friends on it, and one of them was definitely not Amelia, because last time I checked, Amelia was not Chinese. But I had to help her out.

“I’m gonna call my dad. And don’t think you’re getting off the hook. Go to my house and you’re going to be the one explaining this to my dads.”

I did not look forward to that at all. I could see Arthur ripping out my throat in extremely vivid details. I sighed and drove to the house.

Francis came running out. “Anya, Maddie said you were helping her? Any luck?”

I shook my head. “Maddie’s going to be coming back here soon, Mr. Bonnefoy. Let’s get inside and wait.”

When the wet angry Englishman and I will snap your neck after you explain this hockey player entered the house, I once again regretted not swallowing a grenade.

I began by taking a deep breath, and then spoke. “Alfred contacted me.”

Dead silence. Air could have been cut with a butter knife.

“He said that he was in a safe location, and wasn’t going to come home until he knew it was safe to come home.”

Arthur stood. “What is that supposed to mean?! Are you implying we’re abusive?!!”

“No, that was simply what he said.”

Francis looked up, and I could tell he was deeply hurt. “Why wouldn’t Alfred think it was safe to be here?”

I paused, and looked at Maddie. “Should I explain?” I asked, trying to imply my desperate wish not to out Alfred.

She paused, and then shook her head. “I need to go grab something.” She stood and went upstairs.

We all sat at the table, Francis ready to burst into tears, Arthur practically breathing fire, and me silently contemplating my death.

Maddie returned and handed something over to her parents. “He told me to keep it hidden.” A cardboard box. They opened it, and hundreds of papers spilled out. I saw a lot of articles.

Transgender Protestors Not Accepted…

Costs of Gender Reassignment…

How to Act Like A Woman Before Reassignment…

Switch Your Gender! See yourself as you really are!

At the bottom sat a small stack of drawings.

It started with self portraits, obviously a very male Alfred, but slowly it morphed, until we were staring at a drawing of a young woman with an obvious cowlick, bright blue eyes tucked behind glasses, a WWII bomber jacket, and shoulder length hair.

Francis turned it over, and there it was written clearly.

Won’t it be fun to be Amelia? Yes it will, because she’s the real me! I’ll finally be free as Amelia, and then I can go to protests, be a spokeswoman, and maybe even be a hero for all genders! Three cheers for AMELIA FREEDOM JONES!!!

They sat in shock. I looked at Maddie, hoping for some guidance, but she seemed as lost as I was.

Finally Arthur leaned into the wall. “Shit…” Then he turned and punched the wall. “GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!”

“Dad…” Maddie started.

“Don’t dad me! My son is going to throw his life away for some stupid dream, wreck his body, and probably end his life in some ditch somewhere doing drugs! No, that is not going to happen!”

I stood. “Mr. Kirkland, I disagree.”

“You aren’t part of this family, Anya Braginsky.”

“No, but I want to ask you a question. When did you first realize you were gay?”

He turned, and snarled. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

Francis stood. “It was a different time, dear. One couldn’t tell their family or friends about these things.”

I shook my head. “You say it’s a different time, but it’s not. You couldn’t tell your parents about your friends, or your lovers. You’d never say it to them. You spend years hiding it, pretending to be someone you’re not. You have kids, try to start families, when in fact, you’re just miserable. What’s changed? Nothing. Amelia is Amelia. She’s the same child that she was the day she was born. Perhaps you’ve just been thinking of her the wrong way.”

Arthur started towards me. “You act like you know things, but you don’t!”

“Alright, let me tell this one to you. My sister was kicked out of the house when she was seventeen because she wasn’t a virgin. Didn’t matter to my parents that it was rape, she was gone. And they still invited the rapist over for dinner afterwards, because my sister had been ‘lying about it all’. I went out and bought a crowbar and throwing knives. My little sister learned to aim to kill, and I learned how to crack skulls open. I still haven’t even told my parents that I’m a lesbian, because I’m afraid they’ll beat my little sister! You say times have changed, but they haven’t!”

I didn’t realize I was crying until my shouting was done. Maddie was crying too. I’d told her about all of it when I just knew her as a girl named MapleBabe.

Arthur looked deflated, Francis concerned.

I turned and spoke. “I’m going to head back to the campus now. I’ll tell you when Amelia reaches out again.”

Maddie followed me, and when I reached the door, she spoke. “Anya, I’m sorry about earlier on the phone, I’m just…”

“Don’t fret, I know you just want her home and safe.”

She nodded, and then plucked at her sleeve. It was a nervous habit she’d told be about before. I paused, waiting.

“Take care, AnyaBee.”

“Stay safe, MapleBabe.”

LifeNLiberty is online.

LifeNLiberty: How did it go?

AnyaBee: I should have just eaten some explosives.

LifeNLiberty: That bad, huh?

AnyaBee: I don’t know about Francis. He seemed shocked, and worried, but part of that could just be because of your dad, and also the fact that they still don’t know where you are.

LifeNLiberty: In the city still, but it’s a big place, and they can’t search every inch.

AnyaBee: Your dad kept saying ‘son’. He’s gonna be the worst of the two.

LifeNLiberty: Gee, couldn’t see that one coming.

AnyaBee: Maddie’s been trying to work on them, but I don’t think it’s going that well.

LifeNLiberty: How’s she holding up?

AnyaBee: She wants you back home. And she was also going to destroy me for not telling her how to find you.

LifeNLiberty: Yeah, that’s my big sister all right.

LifeNLiberty: But how are you doing?

AnyaBee: I’m okay.

LifeNLiberty: You don’t seem okay.

AnyaBee: I said some very personal stuff in front of your dads and then I kinda ended up sitting in my car and sobbing so I feel like I’ve been run over with a truck.

LifeNLiberty: May I ask what it was about?

AnyaBee: My family life and my sisters.

LifeNLiberty: Are your parents assholes too?

AnyaBee: Assholes is too nice of a word for them. They ruined my older sister’s whole life, and my little sister is still living with them. I don’t even know if she’s safe.

LifeNLiberty: I’m sorry.

AnyaBee: It’s okay. She’ll get away from them soon enough.

LifeNLiberty: I gotta go. Honda’s parents are calling us down to dinner. He says hello, by the way.

AnyaBee: Hello back, and also goodbye.

On Sunday night I was just leaving a bad movie with Odeta (we did it once a month so she could have something else to talk about) when I got a phone call.

I picked it up, not recognizing the number. “Hello?”

“Anya, it’s me.”

I knew that voice. “Natalia?”

“I need you to come and get me as soon as you can. Sofia won’t pick up her phone.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at a payphone next to the old bus stop. I’ve barricaded myself inside. Someone was in the house, Anya! Mom and dad are gone, but someone was in the house, and they were in my room!”

I nodded, and took a deep breath. “I’ll be right there, okay. You have your knives, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Stay calm. I’ll be there soon.”

The phone clicked and I turned to Odeta. “Slight change in plans. We’ve got to head out to the old neighborhood.”

Natalia practically ran out of the phone booth to come embrace me. She was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, not her usual clothes. And her hair was wet too.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

Odeta drove us back to the campus while Natalia clung to me and told me everything. “I was in the shower, the door was locked, but I heard it rattle. I snuck over to the door, but it wasn’t mom or dad. I heard footsteps moving down the hall, and the screeching noise of my door opening. I’d left the water on, so I dried off, grabbed what I could find in the laundry basket, and climbed out the window. I saw the lights on in my room, and I ran away so fast.”

I stroked her hair, and eventually we reached the campus. “Do you want to stay in our room tonight?”

She nodded.

The next morning I was woken up by a thundering knock.

“Oi, Braginsky!”

I ran to the door and opened it. “Yes Coach Baudin?”

She looked pissed. “I don’t mean to pry, dear, but you know our campus takes matters of dorm rooms remaining segregated very seriously, correct?”

“Yes. That’s why girl’s dorms are over here, boys dorms are one the other side of campus, and unsexed dorms are carefully policed.”

Baudin nodded. “I got a report from the night monitor that three people entered this room last night, and I want to know right now who you brought in. And don’t deny it.”

At that moment Natalia came out of the bathroom. “Anya, you’re out of soap… um, hello?”

“Coach Baudin, this is my younger sister Natalia.”

Coach Baudin paused for a moment, looking my sister up and down. She was still wearing sweatpants from last night, and looked secretly terrified. The coach finally spoke. “You’re Anya’s sister, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Which number was she on her old hockey team?”

“She was number 4, on the girl’s varsity team. The team name was the Red Sickle, and Anya was awesome.”

Apparently only my sister would know this, because Baudin visibly relaxed. “Alright. Anya, may I speak with you outside for a moment?”

I stepped out, shutting the door behind me. “Yes?”

“Why is she here?”

“Someone broke into the house last night. She came right here.”

“She should have called the police.”

I wanted to laugh. Instead I shook my head. “Where we live, it isn’t an option. The police wouldn’t even bother to drive down the street, much less come inside. And besides, my parents would have just accused her of stirring up trouble when they got home.”

The coach sighed. “I’m not going to report you today, but she cannot stay here. I’ll give you until tomorrow, and then if she’s still here, it’s been reported.”

I nodded. “Thanks coach.”

“Don’t make me regret putting my ass on the line, alright?”

MapleBabe: Coach seemed pissed off today, didn’t she?

AnyaBee: I’m in trouble.

MapleBabe: What happened?

AnyaBee: My little sis spent last night in my dorm room. Someone broke into the house. Mom and dad are on a trip, and she had nowhere else to go. And if she’s not somewhere else by tomorrow, Baudin’s gonna report me.

MapleBabe: Is she okay?

AnyaBee: Yeah, but I don’t know where she’s gonna go. She can’t go back home, it’s too risky.

MapleBabe: I have an idea.

AnyaBee: What is it?

MapleBabe: Come over to my house. Nat can stay here.

AnyaBee: You really think your dads will be cool with that?

MapleBabe: They’d better be, or else I’ll make them.

AnyaBee: Guess it’s worth a shot.

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