seen from India
seen from United States
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
If Ajax were in the other Deadpool movies:
Agatha All Along S1 Ep. 7
Absolutely going crazy about how Agatha All Along is about relationships with mothers (and honestly family, but I like it being mothers, can you tell I have mommy issues?).
With the Salem Seven, are the children of the ones that trialled and wanted to execute Agatha. Having grown resentful and vengeful of what Agatha did to their mothers, they have come after her, in her weakest she has been. Perhaps just like how their mothers and Evanora did to her daughter during her trial.
With Lorna Wu doing everything she can to protect Alice with this generational curse between women--daughters of her clan. Going on tours and tours to get her song-her spell to be heard because just as long as it is remembered, Alice will be protected. Which succeeded, and Alice died with her own terms in protecting her Coven.
With Agatha first and foremost being hated and seen as evil by her mother, and then being seen/rumored as this wicked witch (get it cause she's dressed up as the wicked witch of the east in ep 7 ha) who gave up her son for the book of the dammed, when in reality that can't be the case with all of the hints we've seen with her and Nicholas. And then seeing this boy-- this Teen who just broke into her house, broke her out of the Scarlet Witch spell, got to know him more and see him as a child to be protected once more, unlike perhaps do what she couldn't do with her own son. That she will to this kid who may have been the son of the woman who trapped her for 3 years, and basically "deceived" her all throughout the journey, but is nonetheless proud. Proud in seeing him take the opportunity to survive and grow up when he was supposed to die, as Billy Maximoff and even as William Kaplan
With Rio, who loves and is just as much of a mother to Nicholas, but is obligated to her job that she cannot abandon, making her do something that she doesn't want to someone she loves (both to Nicky and Agatha).
And to Billy, as a Maximoff and as a Kaplan. With Wanda, creating him and Tommy out of nothing but her powers and a desire for love and family, to her having to take everything she wants down and to her going through the multiverse to find her children only to find out that the twins of that universe already have a mother that is loving and isn't blindsided by the grief and the control of the darkhold that won't accept albit scared with what has she became . Too blinded by the grief and corruption, she didn't notice that her love presevered and saved the body this dying child. And with Rebecca Kaplan, despite basically grieving the death of her son because he can't see her boy in him anymore because of the amnesia (or literally with William dying and Billy taking over), she hasn't given up on this child. Having kept him safe in whichever way she can and in the process making Billy see her as her mother, giving the Kaplans more time with him rather than dying in William's bar mitzvah.
And lastly, with Lilia (I'll always love you), having the power and knowledge, she has basically been the mother of the coven. Always trying to save the people from the demise she has no control of seeing and failing to do, such as the curse of seeing divination just like in her first coven. She has accepted her fate of being a witch by having her final act saving her current coven, sacrificing herself, and loving to do so in the process. Such as a mother ready to sacrifice herself for those they love.
I have so much more yapping especially with Lilia and ep 7 (and Jen but we don't have her backstory yet so) but its honest to God 1:33 am in my place and i need to sleep 😴😴
23 Décembre : Rio Vidal
Je n’ai jamais vraiment aimé Noël. Trop de monde, trop de bruit, trop de sourires forcés. Mais cette année, j’ai promis à ma meilleure amie de venir au marché de Noël de Central Park le 23 décembre. Mauvaise idée. Il fait un froid de mort, la foule est insupportable et évidemment elle m’a plantée pour “un imprévu urgent”. Je me retrouve donc seule, avec un chocolat chaud et une envie de disparaître.
Je m’installe sur un banc un peu à l’écart, je souffle sur ma boisson, et c’est là qu’elle apparaît. Une femme, au long manteau noir et à la démarche calme. Elle s’assoit à l’autre bout du banc sans un mot. Ses cheveux sombres contrastent avec la neige, et son regard… j’ai du mal à le décrire. C’est le genre de regard qui te scanne, qui semble tout savoir sans que tu dises rien.
“Vous avez perdu quelqu’un ?” me demande-t-elle d’une voix grave mais douce.
“Non, juste ma patience.”
Elle esquisse un sourire, avant de reporter son attention sur les lumières au loin.
Je me rends compte que je la fixe, ce qui n’est pas très correct, et détourne le regard.
“Vous êtes du coin ?” je tente afin de briser ce silence étrange.
“Pas vraiment. Disons que je passe rarement deux fois au même endroit.”
Pas bavarde la dame. Pourtant, quelque chose m’attire chez elle, comme une aura calme et un peu dangereuse.
On parle un peu… Enfin, surtout moi. Des Noëls ratés, d’une année trop longue, de mon envie de fuir tout ça. Elle m’écoute sans m’interrompre et quand je me rends compte que je déballe ma vie à une inconnue, il est déjà trop tard.
“Merci d’avoir écouté ma crise existentielle.”
“Ce n’est pas tous les jours qu’on rencontre quelqu’un d’aussi honnête.”
Je souris, gênée.
“Je ne vous ai même pas demandé comment vous vous appeliez avant de vous déballer ma vie.”
“Rio.” répond-t-elle en tendant la main.
“Et moi —”
“Je sais.” dit-elle simplement.
Je la serre, un peu trop longtemps peut-être. Sa peau est froide, mais son regard… chaud, presque brûlant.
Je retire ma main, essayant de retrouver une contenance. Je ne sais pas ce qui m’a traversé, mais quelque chose en elle me trouble complètement. Ce n’est pas juste son regard, c’est… cette impression qu’elle me voit entièrement.
“Vous savez toujours autant de choses sur les gens ?” je demande en essayant de plaisanter.
“Seulement quand ils veulent être vus.” répond-elle calmement.
Okay. Réponse chelou niveau mille. Je tente un rire nerveux, mais elle, non, elle reste parfaitement immobile, le visage impassible, comme si chaque mot avait un sens plus profond que ce qu’il semble être.
La neige commence à tomber plus fort. Un flocon se pose sur ses cheveux ébènes et, sans réfléchir, je tend la main pour le balayer.
Je me fige en réalisant ce que je viens de faire.
Elle, elle ne bouge pas. Juste un léger sourire au coin des lèvres.
“Vous n’avez pas froid ?” je demande, histoire de briser cette tension étrange.
“Je ne ressens plus vraiment le froid.”
D’accord. Elle collectionne les réponses bizarres donc.
Je décide de ne pas insister. Je jette un coup d’œil à ma montre. 23h.
“Je devrais rentrer, avant que le métro ferme.”
Elle hoche doucement la tête, sans me quitter des yeux.
“Faites attention.” dit-elle, simplement.
Je fronce les sourcils, intriguée. “Comment ça ?”
Elle sourit, un sourire qui ne touche pas ses yeux, mais qui me met mal à l’aise.
“Certains tramways ne sont pas sûrs la nuit. Vous pourriez vous perdre… ou pire.”
Je ris nerveusement, mais ça sonne faux même à mes oreilles.
“Merci du conseil… euh… Rio.”
Elle se lève, son manteau noir glissant sur la neige.
“A très bientôt.” Sur ces derniers mots, elle disparaît dans la foule comme si elle n’avait jamais été là.
Je reste plantée sur le banc, le vent glacé me frappe le visage. Mon cœur bat à cent à l’heure. Je secoue la tête, essayant de chasser ce sentiment étrange, mais… j’ai encore l’impression de son regard sur moi.
Elle était aussi belle que bizarre celle-là.
Je reste un moment. Puis je me lève, mains dans les poches.
Je fais quelques pas mais devant moi une petite boule de lumière flotte comme une étoile tombée du ciel. Je cligne des yeux et tends la main. Elle disparaît aussitôt, laissant la neige prendre sa place.
Un rire léger se glisse dans le vent, puis mon nom. Je me retourne. Rien... Juste la rue vide, les lampadaires, la neige, le marché de Noël au loin. Je frissonne, mais ce n’est pas le froid. Quelque chose d’électrisant traverse l’air.
Magie de Noël... Ouais, la magie de Noël… Tu n’as pas encore perdu la tête, c’est juste… Noël….
Je reprends ma marche. Sur une place, j’aperçois des gens qui courent, d’autres les aident. Tout est rapide, précis… Efficace.
Les Avengers… Les Avengers ?!
Je ne les avais jamais vus en vrai ! Et pourtant, ils sont là, ils sauvent des vies comme si c’était un mardi normal. Ce monde est vraiment devenu bizarre.
Alors que moi… moi, je suis juste là, debout sur le trottoir, emmitouflée dans mon manteau, une simple habitante lambda de New York. Tout semble normal dans cette étrangeté finalement. La neige continue de tomber et personne ne me remarque.
Je ris nerveusement.
Peut-être que tout n’est pas si étrange, après tout. Peut-être que cette nuit, cette neige, cette lumière, ce froid électrisant, cette rencontre…
N’importe quoi ! Cette soirée est vraiment chelou. Le monde est chelou. Je veux rentrer chez moi !
Je secoue la tête et décide enfin de me diriger vers le métro. La station est encore éclairée, mais presque vide. Je descends les escaliers, mes pas résonnent sur le sol. Le wagon arrive presque vide. Je monte, m’installe près de la fenêtre et regarde la neige. Le métro démarre, le bruit métallique devient un bourdonnement régulier, presque rassurant après l’étrange atmosphère dehors.
Et puis, juste au moment où je ferme les yeux pour souffler. Le métro se secoue brusquement. Pas un petit tremblement, non, quelque chose de violent, de sec, comme si le wagon entier allait se désintégrer. Mon cœur bondit, mes mains frappent instinctivement le siège devant moi, puis… rien. Mon corps ne bouge pas. J’essaie de crier, de hurler, de me lever… rien. Absolument rien. Je sens mes jambes paralysées, mes bras figés. Je ne contrôle plus rien et même pas cette panique qui me submerge violemment.
Le wagon crisse, les lumières clignotent, le métal s’entrechoque autour de moi et les gens crient, mais je ne peux rien faire. Je veux bouger, courir, faire quelque chose, mais je suis comme… bloquée.
Et puis elle apparaît.
La folle est de retour.
Rio. Debout devant moi, parfaitement calme. Elle ne semble pas affectée par le chaos autour d’elle, pas un mouvement ne la dérange, pas un son ne la touche. Ses yeux me fixent et son sourire… ce sourire au coin des lèvres qui ne touche jamais ses yeux. Comme si elle connaissait chacune de mes pensées.
“Inutile de lutter.”
Sa voix est douce, presque un murmure, mais ça me coupe le souffle. Paradoxalement, elle est la seule chose stable dans ce chaos.
“Tout ira bien… Si tu me laisses faire.”
Le wagon continue de trembler, je sens des débris tomber autour de moi, mais je ne peux pas bouger. Je fixe Rio, elle avance lentement, glissant sur le sol incliné, sans un bruit.
“Tu peux parler. Essaie.” Elle s’accroupit devant moi, ses yeux fixant les miens.
“J-j’essaie…” Ma voix sort à peine, mais c’est suffisant pour qu’elle sourit légèrement.
“Bien. C’est mieux que rien.” Elle penche la tête pour me regarder de haut en bas. “Tu es si… fragile.”
“Fr-fra… fragile ? ” Je tente de reculer mais mon corps reste immobile.
“Oui.” Son ton est doux, mais je sens un danger caché. “Et pourtant, tu ne m’as pas fui. Tu m’as même parlé de toi.” Son regard retrouve le mien.
J’essaie de secouer légèrement la tête dans ma paralysie.
“Pourquoi… je… je ne peux pas bouger ?”
“Parce que ton corps a été briser dans la chute du tramway et je veux que tu restes.” Elle s’approche encore, si proche que je sens son souffle. “Parce que je veux que tu regardes.”
“Regarder quoi ?” je murmure.
“Moi.” Rio s’accroupit complètement devant moi, ses mains glissent lentement sur mes bras. “Tu vas comprendre bientôt.”
“Comprendre quoi ?” Mon souffle devient saccadé.
“Que tout n’est jamais ce qu’il semble être.” Elle incline légèrement la tête. “Ce que tu crois normal… est faux. Ce que tu crois sûr… est fragile.”
Je sens la peur monter en moi.
“Et toi… Tu es quoi, Rio ?” Je réussis enfin à murmurer après quelques secondes.
Elle sourit, légèrement, mais ce sourire est le plus doux parmi ceux qu’elle m’ait offerts.
“Je suis ce que tu devrais craindre… et ce que tu devrais désirer.”
“D-désirer ?!” je m’exclame, perdue. Elle est folle ! Pourquoi ça doit toujours tomber sur moi !
“Oui.” Elle s’approche encore, cette fois ses mains passent lentement à quelques centimètres de mes joues. “Je suis la fin… mais pas encore. Pour toi, ce soir, je suis juste… Une deuxième chance, du temps en plus.”
“Du temps en plus…?” Ma voix n’est qu’un souffle tremblant.
Rio hoche lentement la tête, ses yeux ne quittent pas les miens.
“Tout le monde pense avoir du temps.” Dit-elle doucement. “Mais c’est faux. Le temps n’est pas à eux. Il est à moi.”
Je déglutis avec difficulté. “Tu veux dire que… que je suis morte ?”
Un léger sourire étire ses lèvres, à peine perceptible. “Pas encore. Tu flottes entre les deux. Ce moment, cet endroit, c’est… un battement de cœur entre la vie et moi.”
Je suis foutu…. Complètement foutu… Je hais la magie de Noël… C’est pas juste…
“Mais pourquoi moi ?” Je murmure, la panique s’entendant dans ma gorge. “Il y avait des gens dans le tram… d’autres…”
“D’autres ont fait leur choix sans le savoir. Toi, tu hésites encore.”
Sa voix se fait presque tendre, mais je sens cette gravité derrière chaque mot, comme une vérité qu’elle m’impose sans cruauté.
“Je ne comprends pas…”
Elle ne peut pas juste dire oui ou non…
“Tu n’as pas besoin de comprendre.” Dit-elle en se relevant lentement. “Tu dois simplement regarder. Regarde ce que les autres ne voient jamais.”
Elle tend une main vers moi, une chaleur étrange, presque brûlante traverse la paralysie de mon corps.
Je baisse les yeux et vois ma main trembler légèrement. Je peux bouger… un peu. Je peux bouger ! JE BOUGE !!!
“Je…” Je lève les yeux vers elle, perdue. “Je peux…?”
“Bouger, oui. Mais pas fuir.” Son ton est calme, presque doux, mais je vois dans son regard une autorité absolue.
Je sens mes doigts se refermer dans ma paume, ma respiration s’accélère.
“Qu’est-ce que tu veux que je voie ?”
Elle s’approche encore, et ses yeux deviennent plus sombres, presque liquides.
“La vérité. Que tout a une fin. Que même la beauté, même la chaleur, même toi… ne durent qu’un instant.” Elle s’arrête juste devant moi, ses mots flottent dans l’air comme une caresse glaciale. “Mais ce soir, Noël t’offre un privilège. Ressentir ta fin… avant qu’elle n’arrive.”
Je sens mes yeux se remplir de larmes. C’est vraiment fini ? Juste comme ça ? Plus de Noël, plus de chocolat chaud… Plus jamais de magie de Noël. Bon okay ça, ça va pas me manquer… Mais tout le reste… Ma famille… Mes amis…
“Et toi…” je finis par souffler la voix brisée. “Tu vas me prendre ?”
Rio sourit presque avec tendresse, sa main glisse dans la mienne.
“Pas encore. Tu es encore fascinante à regarder vivre.”
Son regard se perd sur moi et soudain la douleur revient, sourde, brûlante, dans chaque fibre de mon corps.
“Respire.” dit-elle.
Et mon cœur qui devenait qu’un murmure, redémarre. Brutalement.
Le monde autour de moi explose en sons, en lumière, en cris. Le wagon, les sirènes, la neige qui tombe au dehors…
Quand je tourne mon regard à nouveau vers elle, elle a disparue.
Comme si elle n’avait jamais été là.
Ma main qui avait tenu la sienne possède en sa paume une simple fleur à présent.
Je fixe cette petite fleur. Une fleur blanche, fragile….
“Madame ? Vous m’entendez ?” Une voix me parvient, des gants, des lampes, des bruits de pas précipités.
Pas une égratignure. Pas une seule trace du crash sur mon corps.
La secouriste me regarde, perplexe. “C’est… impossible.” murmure-t-elle. “Vous êtes dans le wagon de tête. Comment… ?”
Je hausse les épaules, la seule réponse qui a du sens face à cette soirée. Encore sonnée, encore tremblante, la fleur serrée dans ma main. Je sors du tramway, le froid m’accueille d’un coup. L’air est vif, piquant. Mais cette fois, je suis heureuse de le sentir.
Oh que ça fait du bien !
Je prends une grande inspiration, ferme les yeux. Les bruits de la ville reprennent, les chants de Noël, le rire des enfants, l’odeur du vin chaud, les guirlandes qui brillent au-dessus des rues. Tout ce que j’ai toujours détesté…
Je devrais être morte. Et pourtant, je marche.
Vivante.
Et pour la première fois depuis longtemps, je décide de faire quelque chose que j’avais oublié.
Noël. Avec ma famille.
La neige tombe doucement, le vent froid me gifle les joues, mais je n’ai jamais été aussi reconnaissante de cette magie de Noël.
“Joyeux Noël Rio.” je murmure à la fleur.
Je n’ai jamais vraiment aimé Noël. Trop de monde, trop de bruit, trop de sourires forcés. Mais cette année j’ai appris à l’aimer, à aimer chaque moment, chaque seconde de ce temps si précieux.
Rio Vidal
******************************************
I never really liked Christmas. Too many people, too much noise, too many forced smiles. But this year, I promised my best friend I would come to Central Park's Christmas market on December 23rd. Bad idea. It is cold as hell, the crowd is unbearable and obviously she dumped me for an “urgent mishap”. I find myself alone, with a hot chocolate and a wish to disappear.
I sit on a bench, a bit apart from others, I blow on my drink and it is at that moment she appears. A woman, with a long black coat and a calm pace. She sits at the other end of the bench in silence. Her dark hair contrasts with the snow, and her gaze… I struggled to describe it. It's the kind of gaze who scans you, who seems to know everything without you saying anything.
“Have you lost someone?” She asks me with a grave yet soft voice.
“No, just my patience.”
She smiles slightly, before taking her batting back on the lights afar.
I realize that I am staring at her, which is not very polite, and look away.
“Are you from here?” I say to break this weird silence.
“Not really. Let's say that I rarely go twice at the same place.
Not very talkative, this lady. However, something in her is attracting me, like a calm and a bit dangerous aura.
We talk a little… Well, mostly me. Ruined Christmas, a year too long, my wish to run away from all that. She listens without interrupting me and when I realize that I am offloading my life to a stranger, it is already too late.
“Thank you for listening to my existential crisis.”
“It's not every day we meet someone as honest.”
I smile, embarrassed.
“I didn't even ask for your name before venting my life to you.”
“Rio,” she answers as she holds out her hand”
“Mine's—”
“I know,” she simply says.
I shake it, a bit too long maybe. Her skin is cold, but her gaze is… warm, almost burning.
I retrieve my hand, trying to collect myself. I don't know what passed through me, but something in her is disconcerting to me. It is not just her gaze, it's… this feeling that she sees me fully.
“Do you always know that much about people?” I try to joke.
“Only when they want to be seen.” She calmly answers.
Okay. Weird response level 1000. I try a nervous laugh, but she, no, she stays perfectly still, her face stoic, as if every word had a deeper meaning that it seemed to be.
The snow is starting to fall stronger. A snowflake ends up on her back hair, and without thinking, I hold out a hand to brush it off.
I freeze when I realize what I have just done.
She does not move. Just a slight smile at the corner of her lips.
“Are you not cold?” I ask, in order to break this strange tension.
“I don't really feel cold anymore”
Alright. She is collecting weird responses, it seems.
I choose not to insist. I glance at my watch. 11 p.m.
“I should go home before the metro stops.”
She gently nods, without taking her eyes off me.
“Be careful.” She simply says.
I frown, intrigued. “What do you mean?”
She smiles, a smile that doesn't touch her eyes, but who makes me uneasy.
“Some tramways are not safe at night. You could get lost… or worse.”
I laugh nervously, but it sounds fake even to my ears.
“Thank you for the advice… hum… Rio.”
She stands up, her black coat sliding on the snow.
“See you soon.” With these last words, she disappears in the crowd as if she was never here in the first place.
I stay there on the bench, the freezing wind hitting my face. My heart is racing. I shake my head, trying to brush off this strange feeling but… I still feel her gaze on me.
She was as beautiful as she was bizarre, this one.
I stay for a moment. Then I get up, hands in my pockets.
I take a few steps but in front of me a small bulb of lights is floating like a star fallen from the sky. I blink and hold out my hand. It disappears immediately, letting the snow take its place.
A slight laugh fills the wind, then my name. I turn around. Nothing… Only the empty street, the streetlamps, the snow, the Christmas market afar. I shiver, but it is not cold. Something electrifying passes in the air.
Christmas magic… Yeah, Christmas magic… You're not nuts yet, it's just… Christmas…
I continue my walk. On a square, I see people running, others helping them. Everything is quick, precise… Efficient.
The Avengers… The Avengers?!
I had never seen them in reality! And yet, they are here, they are saving lives like it's just another Tuesday. This world has really become strange.
While me… me, I'm just there, standing on the sidewalk, wrapped in my coat, a mere lambda New York inhabitant. Everything seems normal in this strangeness eventually. The snow keeps falling and nobody is noticing me.
I laugh nervously.
Maybe not everything is odd, after all. Maybe this night, this snow, this light, this electrifying cold, this meeting…
Nonsense! This evening really is weird. The world is weird. I want to go back home!
I shake my head and finally decide to head to the underground. The station is still lit up, but almost empty. I go downstairs, my footsteps echoing on the ground. The wagon arrives almost empty. I get in, sit near the window and look at the snow. The subway starts, the metallic noise becomes a steady buzz, almost reassuring after the odd atmosphere outside.
And then, just as I close my eyes to wind down. The metro shakes brutally. Not a small trembling, no, something violent, blunt, as if the whole wagon is about to disintegrate. My heart races, my hands instinctively hit the seat in front of me, then… nothing. My body is not moving. I try to shout, to scream, to get up… nothing. Absolutely nothing. I feel my paralyzed legs, my frozen arms. I am not in control of anything anymore, not even this panic that violently overwhelms me.
The wagon is hissing, the lights are blinking, the metal around me is banging into each other and the people are shouting, but I can't do anything. I want to move, to run, to do something, but I am like… blocked.
And then she appears.
The lunatic is back.
Rio. Standing before me, perfectly calm. She does not seem affected by the chaos around her, not a movement is bothering her, not a sound is touching her. Her eyes are staring at me and her smile… this smile at the corner of her lips which never gets to her eyes. As if she was aware of each of my thoughts.
“It is useless to fight.”
Her voice is soft, almost a whisper, but it cuts my breath. Paradoxically, she is the only stable thing in this chaos.
“Everything will be okay… if you let me.”
The wagon keeps trembling, I feel pieces falling around me, but I cannot move. I am staring at Rio, she slowly comes closer, gliding on the leaning ground, without a sound.
“You can speak. Try.” She crouches in front of me, her eyes boring into mine.
“I-I am trying…” My voice barely comes out, but it's enough for her to smile slightly.
“Good. It's better than nothing.” She leans her head forward to size me up. “You are so… fragile."
“Fr-fra… fragile?” I try to step back but my body stays unmoving.
“ Yes.” Her tone is soft, but I feel a hidden danger. “And yet, you have not fled from me. You even talked to me about you.” Her gaze finds mine.
I try to shake my head slightly in my paralysis.
“Why… I… I can't move?”
“Because your body has been broken in the tramway's fall and I want you to stay.” She comes closer again, so close I feel her breath. “Because I want you to watch.”
“To watch what?” I whisper.
“Me.” Rio crouches fully in front of me, her hands slowly brushing on my arms. “You are going to understand soon.”
“Understand what?” My breathing turns jerky.
“That everything is not always what it seems.” She slightly bows her head. “What you believe normal… is false. What you believe strong… is fragile.”
You feel fear rise in you.
“And you… What are you, Rio?” I finally succeed to mutter after a few seconds.
She smiles slightly, but this smile is the softest she had given me.
“I am what you should fear… and what you should desire.”
“D-desire?” I exclaimed, lost. She’s crazy! Why it had to always fall on me!
“Yes.” She approaches again, this time, her hand slowly grazes my cheeks. “I am the end… but not yet. For you, tonight, I am just… A second chance, more time.”
“More time…?” My voice is a trembling breath.
Rio slowly nods her head, her eyes don’t leave mine.
“Everybody thinks they have time.” She says, softly. “But it’s not true. Time isn’t with them. It’s with me.”
I swallow with difficulty. “Do you mean… I died?”
A small smile stretches her lips, almost invisible. “Not yet, You float between the two. This time, this place, it’s… a heartbeat in between life and me.”
I’m done for… completely done for… I hate Christmas magic… It’s not fair…
“But why me?” I whispered, panic could be heard in my throat. “There were people in the tram… others…”
“Others made their choice without knowing. You, you still hesitate.”
Her voice is almost tender, but I feel the gravity in each word, like a truth she imposes on me without any cruelty.
“I don’t understand…”
She can’t just say yes or no…
“You don’t need to understand.” She said as she slowly got up. “You simply need to watch. Watch what the others never see.”
She extends a hand toward me, a strange warmth, almost burning, travels through the paralysis in my body.
I lower my eyes and see my hands trembling slightly. I can move… a little. I can move! I MOVE!!!
“I…” I look up to her, lost. “Can I…?”
“Move, yes. But not run.” Her calm tone, almost soft, but I see that her gaze is full of absolute authority.
I feel my fingers close on my palm, my breathing quickens.
“What do you want me to see?”
She gets even closer, and her eyes darken, almost liquid.
“The truth. Everything has an end. Even the beauty, the heat, even you… last for only an instant.” She stops in front of me, her words float in the air like a freezing caress. “But tonight, Christmas gives you a privilege. Feel your end… before it arrives.”
I feel my eyes fill with tears. Is it really over? Just like that? No more Christmas, no more hot chocolate… never more Christmas magic. Okay, this, I am not going to miss it… but the rest… my family… my friends…
“And you…” I breathed with a broken voice. “You are going to take me?”
Rio smiled with almost tenderness, her hand slid into mine.
“Not yet. You are still fascinating to watch live.”
Her gaze lost itself on me and the pain came back, dull, burning, in each fiber of my body.
“Breath.” She said.
And my heart that became a murmur, starts again. Brutally.
The world around me explodes in sounds, in lights, in screams. The wagon, the sirens, the snow falling outside…
When I turn to look at her again, she is gone.
Like she had never been there.
My hand that had held hers possessed in her palm a single flower, a present.
I stare at the tiny flower. A white flower, fragile…
“Ma’am? You hear me?” A voice got through me, gloves, lights, rapid footstep noises.
Not a scratch. Not a single trace of the crash on my body.
The rescuer looks at me, puzzled. “It’s… impossible.” She muttered. “You are in the head wagon. How… ?”
I shrug, the only answer that made sense against that evening. Still stunned, still shivering, the flower squeezed in my hand. I get out of the tramway, the cold welcomes me suddenly. The air is vivid, sharp. But this time, I’m happy to feel it.
Oh that feels good!
I take a big breath, close my eyes. The city sounds resume, the Christmas singing, the children’s laughter, the hot wine scent, the garlands that shine above the streets. Everything I have always hated…
I should be dead. And still, I walk.
Alive.
And for the first time since long ago, I chose to do something I had forgotten.
Christmas. With my family.
The snow was falling softly, the cold wind was slapping my cheeks, but I had never been so grateful for Christmas magic.
“Merry Christmas Rio.” I whispered to the flower
I never really liked Christmas. Too many people, too much noise, too many fake smiles. But this year, I learnt to like it, to like every moment, every second of such a precious time.
Rio Vidal
It’s poetic that the only human in the world that can never truly die is the one person that Death fell in love with and the cruel irony that Wade yearns for death like no other
so basically i wanna make another rp blog but i cant pick between Rio Vidal (death) or Bucky, but theres alr so many buckys so its up to yall
rio or bucky?
Rio Vidal (Death)
Bucky Barnes
