#{{ ophelia's done i am speed

[shesstoppardingonmytom]

A Rehearsal for Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead

ACT I (The only Act necessary)

The PLAYER paces with a binder in hand. ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN are on center stage with the horse’s HEAD and ASS both in costume as the pantomime horse. Other actors are strewn about the theatre and set designers work on various projects.

PLAYER: From the top! Action!

ROS: (flips a coin; catches it) Heads

PLAYER: Stop! Rosencrantz, you have to show conviction! Wonderment at your predicament! A coin just doesn’t land heads up seventy times in a row.

ROS: It doesn’t? It’s been landing heads up this whole time, that’s almost a hundred and twenty now.

PLAYER: Believing the coin is landing heads up is a great start but coins don’t land heads up that many times in a row.

GUIL: He’s right though, it has been only landing on heads this whole time.

ROS: See! It’s not impossible that a coin could land heads up that many times because it’s already done that and more!

GUIL: Is the coin weighted?

ROS: Why would someone weigh a coin?

GUIL: Why would a coin land head up a hundred and nineteen times in a row?

HEAD: Maybe it’s a gambler’s coin.

ROS: (taking a step back) The horse speaks!

ASS: You know who we are Rosencrantz

GUIL: What creature can speak words from their behind?

PLAYER: Enough! Let’s move on to another scene.

(The TRAGEDIANS walk on the stage, and so does the PLAYER)

GUIL: I thought you were directing.

PLAYER: (still standing where he was in the beginning and certainly not on stage) I am, now action!

PLAYER: (on stage) Halt! It’s lucky we caught you.

GUIL: Were you looking for us?

PLAYER: No but we certainly need you! (he turns to his troop) Places everyone!

(The TRAGEDIANS start setting up a makeshift stage)

PLAYER: We are the Tragedians, and we are glad to come across you lest we grow rusty. For extra coin you may participate in debauchery, otherwise, we can perform any genre you would like to see.

(The TRAGEDIANS bow)

ROS: What kind of debauchery?

PLAYER: (off stage) Cut! Rosencrantz, that’s not your line!

GUIL: I didn’t say anything.

ROS: Didn’t you?

GUIL: No, you’re Rosencrantz

ROS: Can’t I ask questions when I have them Player?

PLAYER: (on stage) I’ll be happy to answer them.

PLAYER: (off stage) You aren’t supposed to follow that line of questioning until later

GUIL: When’s later?

ROS: What line of questioning?

PLAYER: (on stage) Player, maybe we should show them later

PLAYER: (off stage, sighing) Altright (he claps once) Speed it up.

(The TRAGEDIANS run offstage while OPHELIA runs onstage, chased by HAMLET. He grasps her hand before they split apart and take off in different directions. CLAUDIUS and GERTRUDE enter.)

CLAUDIUS: (to ROS and GUIL) We have need of you.

GERTRUDE: Visit my son.

(They exit the stage swiftly. POLONUIS enters, chasing after CLAUDIUS)

POLONIUS: Sire, I have found out why Hamlet acts so strangely!

(POLONIUS exits)

ROS: I want to go home.

GUIL: Which way did we come in?

ROS: Why is everything so fast?

PLAYER: (off stage) Resume normal speed!

GUIL: Why are we here?

ROS: For Hamlet, we’re his friends, aren’t we?

GUIL: What’s wrong with Hamlet?

ROS: How should I know?

GUIL: Didn’t the King just tell us?

ROS: Did he?

GUIL: That’s the same question.

ROS: Statement!

GUIL: Since when were we playing questions?

ROS: Isn’t it in the script?

GUIL: What script?

ROS: Hamlet’s father died!

GUIL: Of course he did, you fool.

ROS: Isn’t that why he’s upset?

GUIL: Should be.

ROS: How would you feel if you were Hamlet and your father died?

GUIL: How long ago did he die?

ROS: Not too long

PLAYER: (off stage) Play!

(The TRAGEDIANS rush back on stage, bringing another stage with them. PLAYER (on stage) lounges on a couch while he plays the flute.)

ROS: We’ve seen this before, haven’t we, Guildenstern?

(GUIL does not respond)

ROS: Rosencrantz!

GUIL: This looks familiar

(The TRAGEDIANS rush through the next few scenes, depicting what has happened and what has yet to come.)

GUIL: I’ve got it! They played for us in the woods.

ROS: I thought they didn’t

GUIL: We met them there though

ROS: Then they must have

GUIL: But did they play for us?

ROS: They most certainly did.

GUIL: I don’t remember them playing.

ROS: Statement!

GUIL: Questions was a different time.

(The TRAGEDIANS exit the stage and bring their stage with them. HAMLET enters as crew members roll a boat scene on stage.)

ROS: Where are we?

GUIL: We’re on a boat?

ROS: Since when?

GUIL: Since now. Do you have the letter?

ROS: What letter?

GUIL: (patting his pockets) Oh, I have the letter.

ROS: From the King?

GUIL: Yes.

ROS: Well we better protect it. What do we tell him?

GUIL: Well we say we’re here to deliver this letter.

ROS: And then what?

GUIL: And then he reads it. (GUIL opens the letter and scans the words).

ROS: What’s it say?

GUIL: Hamlet is to die.

ROS: That’s not what the letter says.

GUIL: This is the first letter.

ROS: But Hamlet doesn’t die

GUIL: He does

ROS: No he doesn’t

GUIL: You’re right, he doesn’t

PLAYER: (on stage) Everyone marked for death must die.

ROS: I thought you were directing

PLAYER: (off stage) I am!

GUIL: We aren’t meant to die

PLAYER: (on stage) Were you not paying attention?

GUIL: To what?

PLAYER: (on stage) Me

ROS: You?

PLAYER: (on stage) Yes, me

ROS: No you aren’t

GUIL: He isn’t?

PLAYER: (on stage) Yes, I am

GUIL: The letter changed

ROS: Where’s Hamlet?

GUIL: Why’s everything so fast?

PLAYER: (on stage) We have a skimmer in our midst

ROS: Are we dying?

GUIL: We aren’t supposed to die.

ROS: We are.

GUIL: What’s the point then?

ROS: Why should there be one?

PLAYER: (on stage) There’s always a point in tales

GUIL: Not this one

ROS: No, there is a point to this one.

GUIL: Not with us though.

PLAYER: (off stage) Cut! That’s all the time we have for today. See you all tomorrow bright and early!

ROS: Why’s it ending?

HEAD: You don’t need to stay in character

GUIL: But this isn’t how it ends.

PLAYER: (on stage) No, it isn’t

PLAYER: (off stage) This time it does.

(Everyone files out except for GUILDENSTERN and ROSENCRANTZ. The lights turn off and they remain on stage standing in the dark.)

[exdayshiftguardhana]

[Video recording start.]

[The recording starts from the front pocket of someone's shirt, the person is walking down a sidewalk during night, the sound of more footsteps close by, the person appears to be holding several bags of food.]

H: So uh, how's your hand?

Mel: Meh, healed enough it doesn't hurt. Still can feel where those jerks stabbed me if you poke the right area. We dropping these off at Ophelia's house?

H: Yep, bingo.

[Hanako sighs, pausing for a second under a street light before turning towards the other side of the road, camera following with her body movement. As she turns it reveals Melody, holding a case of soda and a gas can. Hair done up in a ponytail as they wear a purple tank top, a plaid purple shirt tied around their waist and jeans. Behind Melody is the start of a forest.]

H: Let’s just go to that side of the road. Just in case someone starts chasing.

Mel: You sure? Erm, there's a cliff on that side, if we tripped we'd probably fall.

H: I'd rather fall down a cliff than be chased with no easy escape route.

Mel: Meh, yeah fair point.

[Melody does a little spin, and begins walking over to the other side of the road. Hanako following along.]

Mel: Man, it's fun to lead the way! Haha!

H: Uhh… Yep. Sorry.

Mel: Pay attention, it's night time the serial killers are out bro come on.

[Melody reaches the other sidewalk and spins to face Hanako, a deadpan stare on their face. followed by a smile.]

Mel: Na I'm just fuckin’ with you come on though for real.

[Hanako continues walking with Melody on the sidewalk, Although Hanako is slightly wobbly.]

Mel: You ok?

H: Just a little tired, walking to the store sucks.

Mel: Fair, go to bed as soon as we get back.

H: Nooooooo. I don't want to.

Mel: Nuh uh. Go to bed, or I'll just poke you until you say yes.

H: No.

Mel: Yes.

H: No.

Mel: Yes.

H: No.

Mel: No.

H: Yes. FUCK.

[Melody laughs, the two continue walking.]

Mel: The sky is pretty at night isn't it?

H: Yeah… It is.

Mel: We should do this more. It's pretty fun.

H: Besides the fact it’s creepy at night.

Mel: Well, yeah.

[The two continue walking for a bit longer, it lasts until a car is heard behind the two. It speeds up as someone is shouting.]

?: STUPID BITCH!

[A can is thrown, seemingly at Melody but it hits Hanako knocking her into Melody and causing both of them to fall down a hill, the camera falls out of Hanako's pocket and down against a tree, the two of them roll down the hill and as they reach the bottom Melody ends up on top of Hanako, they ended up in a kiss. After a few short seconds Melody rolls off Hanako, and Hanako sits up extremely fast.]

H: I. UM. WHAT JUST HAPPENED?

Mel: You got a can thrown at your head, and then we kissed on accident.

H: WE. I. UM. UH.

Mel: Yep!

[Melody sits up, looking at Hanako. Smiling.]

Mel: That was fucking great!

H: Mhm. Yep! Totally!

Mel: You good.

H: WE JUST ROLLED DOWN A HILL AND KISSED I AM NEITHER GOOD NOR BAD!

Mel: Ha! Nice!

[The two of them sit there for sometime, until Melody stands up. Walking over to Hanako's phone and looking at the screen.]

Mel: Man, your phone is bugging, recording started.

H: WHA-

[Before Hanako can finish, the recording cuts off.]

[End recording.]

[duskroine]

❤️ = Does your muse focus on one person, or do they like to go and date as many people as possible?

we kiss and tell

( ❤️ ) DOES YOUR MUSE FOCUS ON ONE PERSON, OR DO THEY LIKE TO GO AND DATE AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE?

       yes and no. while she believes that her love should be for whoever she chooses, no matter the amount of people, she does have expectations and limits. she’d rather focus on one person, though, unless there are others who she also, truly loves and her partner is fine with it. if she’s already with someone and she loves them, she won’t leave them just to date someone else. it’s kind of stupid to her— like leaving one sparkling treasure chest just because there’s another one across the room that looks exactly the same and makes you feel exactly the same, y’know? she’d rather take both treasure chests with her!

[mimzy-writing-online]

My Most Recent Chaotic Academia Nonsense

It's finals week, and instead of studying, I'm writing a tumblr post about the nonsense of my college education. Here we go:

I had a 7-8 page paper due that was worth 40% of my grade, and five days before it was due I scrapped what I had and started brand new with a completely different poem. (grade pending)

One of my classes has 5 essays for the semester but the lowest one gets dropped. The TA said I didn't have to take the last essay seriously if I was satisfied with my previous grades. So I submitted a "Spotify Wrapped, but make it Literature" of all the things I've read, written, and done related to school. Plus pictures of my cats.

The professor did not like this and asked that anyone who committed such nonsense submit a real essay.

Two days later at the lovely hour of 12 AM, the ghost of Emily Dickenson possessed my spirit and I punched out an essay doing a close reading of "613" and it was two pages, four paragraphs of feral feminist anger and it was so cathartic. I got an A.

(I titled the essay with a song lyric)

I wildly disagree with a different professor about what Dickenson is doing with her dashes. He argues that they induce moments of pause. I firmly insist they speed up the rate of the poem, demanding drama and emotion.

Essay 4 was supposed to be my throw-away essay actually. I was facing severe burnout and could not make myself focus enough to even pick a topic. So I told myself it just had to be something and it could suck, so long as there was something to submit. I had four hours left. Highest graded essay of the semester. wtf

I participated in a scavenger hunt at my school's library. Participated is a generous term. I followed my group while they did the clue-solving thing and I admired the library's architecture and felt tiny while wandering through the stacks and it was wonderful but also exhausting.

I wrote a 20 line speech for Ophelia that basically implies she was in on Hamlet's plot, deceiving Claudius and her father into believing Hamlet had gone mad with love so they would be distracted while Hamlet pondered his uncle's guilt and what to do. The speech was set after Hamlet murdered her father and was exploring her grief and guilt. I had soooo so much fun writing it and then I got to do a close reading of my speech and explain what little wording decisions meant.

I regularly send my best friend the most batshit quotes of what I'm reading and videos of me ranting about dead men.

After the semester he came to visit and we went to a local used bookstore. I got a book of Emily Dickenson poems and a book on T.S. Eliot, as if I hadn't gotten enough of them the two weeks prior.

Several months ago I went to the same bookstore and checked their poetry section for Calamus by Walt Whitman--but I forgot how to spell Whitman *insert upside-down smiley face* and kept searching for "Wittman" and getting frustrated. I didn't realize my mistake until I was walking home.

I went to an art museum with another blind friend and I described the art to him. I had some fun explanations of different works, especially the Picasso and Pollock paintings.

I forgot to check the weather while leaving to get to my final and did not bring an umbrella, so I walked 1.5 miles home in the rain at 10pm.

For that final, I had to identify and analyze texts I'd read this semester, and despite how much I deeply hate Alexander Pope, I spent a long time analyzing a sample of his writing.

I found out today that I have to read Pamela and Shamela for the third time next semester. Kill me.

You'd be surprised how many times you have to reread a work as an English major, or like read a different sample of the same work or author. And most of the time I find a new potential take or argument, some new idea or whatever. But it'd be really nice if I didn't have reread some of my least-faves.

But I finally got to read Alice in Wonderland! For all the references my character Anna makes to it, it's a surprise I hadn't read it sooner (reading it as a kid doesn't count anymore because I don't remember it).

None of my essays required an MLA works cited page??? What the fuck? Like, what?? How do you know I'm not making some of this shit up? Like, I write articles on the internet for funsies, I know how easy it is to just make something up and convince people to believe you. I don't do that, but I know I'm capable of it. Like, hiiiii big fancy university, what do you mean you don't care if I cite my sources??

I brewed sooo much tea at home. The Starbucks in my area don't make my favorite drink as well as the ones back home, and everywhere else does sweet tea and bubble tea and that's great but it's not for me.

I spent all that spare cash on cat toys, no joke.

And yes, my rough guestimate of how much tea I brewed was included in my "Spotify Wrapped, but make it Literature" thing.

[broadstbroskis]

ivy- morgan rielly

a/n: i wrote a thing, don’t hate me. very much inspired by ivy from the absolutely incredible new tswift evermore album (you should listen to the whole thing if you havent already and def this song)

warnings: infidelity (it’s a central theme), angst (lots)

-----

The arm draped over her waist tightens just as Ophelia begins to move away. She bites her lip and closes her eyes and she feels Morgan bury his face in her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t go.” He whispers.

“I have to.” She wouldn’t. She’d stay here all night if she could. She’d stay until morning, she’d stay forever...but she can’t. “You know that.” It’s just as quiet, as if they’re both afraid of breaking the spell over them, but by now, they both know that prolonging the inevitable leads only to more pain, more difficulty leaving.

Morgan presses another kiss to the top of her head before rolling away; she feels the cold of his absence immediately, a loss that’s going to stay with her until she manages to find an escape to be with him again. 

Her clothes are scattered everywhere tonight, it seems, which merely means she feels Morgan’s eyes following her around his room as she gathers them. “Stop that.”

There’s the smallest of smiles of his face when she looks up at him, after pulling her sweater back on. “Stop looking at you? Never.” And she’s really supposed to be leaving, but how’s Ophelia not supposed to kiss him after that?

Morgan’s thumb strokes over her cheek after they break apart,  a gentle caress that expresses so much of all the things she knows he can’t-or won’t-say. “Text me when you get home, yeah?”

“I will.” Ophelia squeezes his hand gently, understanding the true message behind his words, the I love you, that’s just too much to say outright. And then, because it’s too much for her to actually say goodbye, she squeezes his hand once more, and then slips out of his room.

It’s dark still when she opens the door to her apartment a few floors down and the silence is deafening. By all accounts, it should be warmer and homier than the bachelor pad she just left. She’d put a lot of work and effort into making it a home, a place for a relationship to grow, to start a family. 

Right now, it just felt cold and unwelcoming, and Ophelia drops her keys on the table by the door in their usual spot, making a beeline for the master bathroom, not turning any lights on in the apartment until she makes it there. The sound of the shower finally drowns out the silence that’s ringing around her, stops her thoughts from running wild, and only when she steps inside does she let the tears fall.

-----

Ophelia blinks once, and then again, adjusting her eyes to the bright sun shining in through the windows. The other side of the bed is empty, but warm still, like it’s only been recently vacated, and she musters up the energy to climb out of bed and find her slippers before she wanders out into the kitchen.

“‘Morning.” Jon’s scrolling through his phone at the table, likely checking emails, or possibly moved onto his morning social media read thru, his coffee still steaming in front of him. “There’s more in the pot.”

“Thanks.” She returns the small smile he’d sent her and pours a mug for herself, settling in at the table next to him and taking a moment to get used to the usual silence. “When’d you get in last night?”

Jon hums for a second, like he’s thinking about it. “3, I think?”

“Jesus.” She shakes her head; she doesn’t need to look at the clock to know that it’s too early for him to be up and dressed to go back to the office already then. “You need to sleep more.”

Jon stands up with his mug and kisses the top of her head. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

The thing is, she’s not sure he’s kidding. It’s an attitude that he shares with the rest of his firm, a top financial group filled with people just like Jon, always pushing themselves to do the absolute most. It’s not-she’d never begrudge him his success, but really, how well can he be taking care of himself when all he does is go to work, go to the gym, and travel for days at a time?

“That’ll be sooner than you think if you keep going on four hours of sleep.” Ophelia chides gently, standing to send him off.

Jon laughs. “I’ll be home early tonight; how’s that? We’ll go out somewhere for dinner and then come back to bed,” He waggles his eyebrows. “And then go to bed.”

“Hmm, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Ophelia says, and accepts the kiss he presses to her cheek on his way out the door.

(He doesn’t make it to dinner, but Ophelia's not shocked; she hadn’t bothered to change out of her gym clothes and orders takeout for herself instead.)

-----

Probably a long shot, but are you free at 3 to go see a house? Ophelia sends Jon the second their realtor confirms the showing, unsurprised when he sends back a thumbs down emoji. She sighs, and confirms with the realtor that she’ll be attending alone-again-and then scrolls around the neighborhood, looking at other houses for sale. If she’s going all the way out to Etobicoke, she may as well check out a few others while she’s there.

Showings confirmed, she dresses for the spin class she’s hitting first and makes her way downstairs, catching Morgan in the parking garage. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He smiles. He’s got a couple teammates with him, the only thing stopping her from burying her face in his neck and slipping her hands into his hoodie pocket. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” She answers truthfully. It’s been a couple days since they’ve talked, longer since she’s seen him, even just in passing like this; he’s been out of town a lot this month for games. “You happy to be home for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Morgan nods, meeting her eyes, and she hadn’t intended the question to be anything more than what it is, but she catches the double meaning in his answer right away. “I am.”

“Yeah.” She catches herself mindlessly agreeing with him, forgetting about the teammates standing with him watching their every move and smiling gently at Morgan, instead. “It’ll be nice.”

Someone coughs, lightly, but it’s enough to break the moment. She suspects, from the look on Morgan’s face, that whichever one of his friend’s had interrupted had done so on purpose, is putting some kind of story together, and she’s taking that as her cue to go. “I’ll talk to you soon, I’m sure. Catch you in the halls.” She tries to joke, but it falls flat, so she makes her goodbyes instead, and even though they’re not alone, it’s impossible not to reach out and brush her fingers against his arm for just the quickest of touches as she passes.

-----

“What do you think?” Ophelia can feel Pam studying her, but she bites her lip before she answers, knowing that she’s being an absolute pest.

“I just-I don’t really love it.” She says finally, and to her absolute credit, her realtor doesn’t even blink, even though this is the fifth house this afternoon she’s said that exact same thing about.

“What didn’t you love?”

What didn’t she love? Jesus, fucking everything. The bedrooms were too small, the kitchen was laid out terribly, the whole floor plan was a mess. Even petty little things, like the shape of the breakfast nook bothered her about this house. She explains her issues with the house, promising to make a list of what she’s absolutely looking for, and to send over any places she wants to take a look at, before slipping into her car and taking a deep breath.

There’s a text waiting for her from Jon. Going to be late at the office tonight, working on a pitch. Don’t wait up.

Another deep breath. She shoots off a response, a quick ok, and then swipes to another thread. Are you home?

Morgan’s response comes almost immediately. Yeah, just about to order dinner. You want in?

She does, absolutely. Be there in an hour.

Morgan has dinner waiting in takeout containers and plates ready, but Ophelia’s perfectly happy to ignore both of those in favor of pressing herself as close to him as she can and pushing up for a kiss. “Hi.” She says, a little breathlessly.

“I’m certainly not complaining, but what’d I do to deserve that?” He pulls her back in, entangling her fingers with his one hand and using the other to pull her closer. She loves when he holds her like this, keeps her so close that it feels like nothing can come between them, that nothing matters besides the two of them. 

She traces a pattern along his hand and feels him pull her in even more tightly. “Just for being you.” It’s a little sappy, too sappy maybe, but she cherishes every moment she’s gotten to spend knowing him and growing with him. 

The kiss Morgan pulls her in for at that is soft and promising, but he pulls back, looking as if it almost pains him. “Dinner first?” And because she can hear his stomach rumbling, she nods in agreement, with a smile and the smallest of laughs. 

“Dinner first.”

-----

It’s snowing.

It’s snowing and the pond is frozen, but it’s empty, surrounded by evergreens and mountains, already coated in white. The air is crisp, that winter crispness that can only truly be felt in the middle of nowhere, and Ophelia breathes deeply, taking in the distinct scent of winter that she never really gets in Toronto, before it’s overpowered by a familiar one.

When Morgan skates up behind her, he doesn’t stop; instead, he only slows down enough to catch her arm and pull her along with him. 

“Morgan!” Ophelia scolds, but she’s laughing when she does, so he can’t possibly take her seriously.

“Ophelia!” He mimics, picking up speed, ignoring her sudden shriek and skating around in front of her to take both of her hands.

“Showoff.” She nods at him, still leading the two of them around the pond, only moving backwards now, so as to still be looking at her.

“Nah, just want to look at that pretty face more.”

When she stops, it doesn’t even catch him off guard; Morgan just glides the half step closer to her, still grinning as she teases him. “You get to look at my face all the time now.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m ever tired of it.” She loves him so much. How open and honest he is, that he always says what he’s thinking, from the sweetest things like that to anything he’s unclear about. His gentle touches, the warm caresses. His stupid dad jokes. She’d spend forever laughing at them just to see the smile on his face when she does.

“Not yet, at least.” She teases. “‘Ever’ is a lot of time.”

“Still not enough.” Morgan says, and then slips one of his hands into his pocket, coming back out with a velvet jewelry box. “Maybe forever?”

“Hey.” It doesn’t sound right, too distant and too unenthusiastic; it doesn’t match the pure joy in Morgan’s eyes looking at her.

“Yes.” She says, smiling and nodding at him.

“Phel,” there’s a gentle nudge against her neck and she blinks awake. There’s Morgan...but…she blinks the fuzziness of the dream away. He looks unhappy, reluctant, and she gets it, suddenly, when he continues. “It’s late.”

“Oh.” She says quietly, swallowing the lump in her throat. He presses a kiss to the back of her neck, another one on the soft skin where it meets her shoulder. “Mo-“ Morgan lifts his head to look at her, but there’s nothing she could say right now that would bring happiness to his face, nothing that would come even close to the unbridled excitement in her dream, so she keeps the memory close to her heart and gives him a soft kiss instead, before she has to go.

-----

“Glass of red, as requested.” Ophelia smiles in thanks as Jon passes her a glass, but her attention is directed at the monstrosity of a tie that his coworker and best friend has shown up to a corporate event wearing.

“Kevin.” She says, and from the grin on his face, her disbelief is clear. “What is that?”

“It’s fashion, Ophelia.” Kevin says, putting an act of superiority on, but then going right back to his usual, kind of goofy, self. “Naw, I found it when we were in Dallas last week. It’s lit, isn’t it?”

“Lit.” She repeats dryly, taking a sip of her wine to hide a smile as he and Jon laugh. 

The laughs don’t last long, as the three of them are approached by Jon’s boss, and the small talk begins. There’s a client there they want to land tonight, or at least make dinner plans with for a later date, and that’s top priority, but don’t forget to make time for this person too because their contract is up in March, and of course, you can’t ignore the Leafs, especially not so-and-so from the such-and-such’s office because they’re looking to renew the sponsorship agreement after the season, and...

She blanks on all the names. All she needs to do is smile pretty anyway.

She excuses herself after Keith Williams (the client, who agrees to dinner later in the week, another night she’ll be alone) to refill her wine glass, and is waiting by the bar when she feels someone slide in next to her just a step too close. Instead of feeling tense though, it relaxes her immediately, and she leans against Morgan. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiles back at her. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Ophelia’d noticed him the minute he’d walked the door, noticed the way his suit was perfectly cut, that the navy brought out his eyes, had had a hard time looking away. “You look okay, I guess.”

Morgan laughs. “Okay, I guess?” He repeats, nudging her side.

“Very handsome.” She accepts her glass of wine from the bartender and smiles in thanks before he leaves them. “It’s a good suit on you.”

She’s sure he’s going to make a comment about how it’s an even better suit off him, but they’re interrupted. “Mo!” Someone says behind them, and Ophelia hadn’t even realized how close they were standing, that she’s curling into him and he’s leaning back, until they have to separate to turn around.

“Mitchy.” Morgan greets, sounding as calm as usual, while Ophelia feels like her heart’s going to beat out of her chest. “Finally made it, huh?”

“Matts couldn’t decide on what shoes he wanted to wear.” Mitch grumbles as the blonde next to him snickers into her palm.

“Worth the wait.” Ophelia looks over at the voice and realizes it’s one of the teammates Morgan had over the other week. She quickly realizes from the look on his face that he’s putting together the same pieces.

“Was it though?’ Mitch is asking him. “That’s the last time we agree to carpool.”

He’s ignored though. “We’ve met before, yeah?”

Ophelia nods. “Uh yeah, I live in the same building as Morgan.” She transfers her wine glass to her left hand to offer her right hand out to shake, catches the blonde’s eyes immediately go to her ring, and ignores the feeling in her stomach as she introduces herself to them.

They’re all friendly enough-Auston, Mitch, Mitch’s girlfriend-but she can’t help but feel like they’re just trying to feel her out for something; she makes polite chit-chat for a few minutes and then excuses herself away from them to go back to Jon.

“Hey.” She says quietly, slipping back into his side.

“All good?” He asks quietly. “You were gone for a while.”

She nods. “ Just ran into someone I know.” He hums noncommittally and she feels a moment of fear for Morgan, but then they’re moving toward that guy from the Leafs office he’s supposed to be talking with and he’s back to all business.

-----

“Can we talk about this later?” Jon zips his suitcase and then looks over at her. “I’ve got to go.”

“When do you want to talk about it?” Ophelia cries frustratedly. “You’re always fucking going.”

Jon glares at her.” Jesus Christ, Ophelia.” He starts rolling his suitcase down the hall and she follows, unable to resist.

“Should I even bother looking at houses still? Or should we just stay stagnant?”

“Do whatever the fuck you want, Ophelia. I don’t care right now.” The door slams behind him, but for once, she can’t bring herself to be mad about it, too furious about the fight they just had, shouting in circles about things they’ve already fought about. 

Stewing in her anger isn’t going to do her any good, so she changes and heads to the gym, each pounding step on the treadmill relieving the thrumming under her skin. She’s feeling better, by the time she slows it down to her cool down- not quite calm, by any means, but enough that she feels she can run the errands she needs to for the day without snapping at anyone who doesn’t deserve her ire.

She’s in the grocery store when her phone starts ringing. “Hey.” She smiles when she sees it’s Morgan.

“Hey.” She can practically hear him smiling, even through the phone, her airpods still in her ears. “I’m home.”

She’s in the snack aisle at the food store, absolutely beaming at the simplest words, just because he’s been gone for a week. “You are?”

“For a few days now.” He confirms.

“You want to come for dinner tonight?” She studies the cart in front of her. “I’ll cook.”

“You’re cooking? Tell me when to be there.” Morgan already sounds excited. It’s not often she gets a chance to cook for him, but every time she does, he raves about it. 

She laughs. “I’m at the store now; I’ll text you when I get home.”

He’s actually waiting for her in the parking garage when she pulls in and she laughs at him fondly as she parks her car. “Welcome back.”

“Hmm, good to be back.” The kiss he gives her in greeting is quick, too quick, but he makes up for it when he pushes her back against the counter as soon as they’re in her kitchen and the groceries are on the counter.

“Do you want risotto tonight or not?” Ophelia laughs against his lips, laughs again as she watches how torn Morgan looks. “We have time.”

He squeezes her hand. “Never enough.” And she kisses him again, because it’s true. These stolen moments, this borrowed time, none of it felt like enough. It wouldn’t ever be enough to show him all the love she has for him, to show him everything he does for her, all the pain he takes away and the joy he brings to her life. 

“Could you go pick out a bottle of wine?” She says quietly, nodding toward the wine fridge, instead of saying the things they both know are true, but will only lead to her saying something stupid, like asking him to run away with her.

-----

The house comes in Pam’s daily email and Ophelia loves it from the first picture. She requests a showing for as early as possible and goes through her morning routine, trying not to get overly excited each time her phone buzzes with a new notification, until finally, Pam responds that she’ll meet her there at noon.

It’s only two hours, but it’s two hours that she can’t seem to fill, no matter what she does. Time feels like it’s stopped, until finally she gets in her car and drives over.

The stone exterior is even more beautiful in person than in the pictures. The kitchen is straight out of her dreams. The bedrooms are spacious, the family room is open, the basement is huge. She walks the entire house once, goes through again and again, smile growing wider each time.

Ophelia can picture it perfectly. The laughter filling all these nooks and crannies. A small blue-eyed boy always bouncing around, begging for anyone to play hockey with him. A girl, the shine of her dark hair catching all the natural light, eagerly trying to keep up with him. Morgan throwing his bag down the second he walks in the door and scooping them both into his arms to say hello, before coming to her and a baby, greeting them both just as tenderly.

It’s abrupt, the crash back to reality. This house, this beautiful, gorgeous, house can’t be hers. That life isn’t hers. It can’t be hers. It won’t be theirs. 

Ophelia doesn’t feel her legs crumble out from under her, but she finds herself on the floor, hand brushing over the carpet. She doesn’t feel the tears start either, but it’s not long before the sobs are wracking her entire body and she’s unable to stop.

[fannicroy]

                                               25TH HOUR 

                                               a fanni croÿ playlist

pretty little head — eliza rickman. jackie cane — hoovephonic. sweet ophelia — zella day. pretty face — sóley. rousseau — nerina pallot. can i begin again — ciaran lavery. numb — marina. glass ceiling — metric.

it took me only 6 months to finish this yay ! 

PRETTY LITTLE HEAD — eliza rickman

possibly the most accurate song on the playlist. the narrow box she has made for herself and how difficult it has made staying sane inside her head. everything from the obsessive need to get married to being reckless in her desperation and falling for beautiful words.

Hook, line, and sinker, drop it down to the bottom Butterfly, float, flicker, soar to the top Kill for the thrill, cut it, stick it where you got him Circle rollin' under, runnin' red to the stop Sister bring it hither Push it down below Catch yourself a looker let it go go go Wanna have your baby But I'm so so slow Don't you worry honey 'cus I can't say 'no'

JACKIE CANE — hooverphonic

special thanks to jude for this one ! while her old image is certainly beginning to have cracks in it, this song is about the majority of her life. fanni has dedicated her life to others. trailing behind levi, supporting oli when she needed it. tekla might be the only one she relied on.

Jackie Cane was everybody's sugar She'd melt away if only she could of Taken for granted, abused and drained They ran her dry and then it never rained She was the queen of the 25th hour They looked so sweet but the after-taste was sour

SWEET OPHELIA — zella day

this follows the same theme as the song above, though it's more specific to farnauld.

Singing like it's a full moon Careless now that he has you Turns you on to the right songs Promises that you're hooked on

Sweet Ophelia, When young blood escapes Vows that break Go up, up away

PRETTY FACE — sóley

exclusively a farnauld song.

I thought I had touched them but I can't feel I'm in your dream They want to take me but I will hide from them Tonight I'll take your life and throw it far away I'll use my pretty face to find my way to him

I ran away from you Into your dream The one That I was in when you Told me That I could never meet My friend Again Will you be my friend in my dream? Take that pretty face off show me Will we ever have that baby? Just take your pretty face off, show me Are you my friend?

ROUSSEAU — nerina pallot

fanni, despite what people tell her and what she herself has seen, firmly believes that everything she has done, has been of her own free will. not because of expectations and the pressure of the society. she really just wanted to be levi's crutch, arnauld's lover, the family's sun.

Rousseau is following me, following me, Following me down to the ladders. Oh, are we really born free? Are we born free? Or just born again?

And you think you feel, Yeah you think you'll be Your own kind philosophy.

CAN I BEGIN AGAIN — ciaran lavery

fanni doesn't quite like what she has become. she has let arnauld taint much of what she has worked on her whole life. 

I want a cigarette, I want a cigarette But I'd rather be in love, I'd rather be in love I want a cigarette (I don't smoke, no), I want a cigarette But rather be in love (You don't love, no), I'd rather be in love I need to please myself, I need to please myself, I need to please myself

NUMB — marina

fanni has a need to control every aspect of her life. when things begin to slip her, she gets stressed out. part of what makes her her, in her opinion, is perfection. she doesn't cause trouble: she fixes things. she doesn't ask for help: she offers it. she doesn’t make mistakes: she stops others from making them.

Forgo families, forgo friends That's how it started, and how it ends I can't open up, and cry Cause I've been silent all my life

I feel numb most of the time Lower, I get the higher I'll climb, and I will wonder why I got dark only to shine

TAKE CONTROL — kodaline

this song is more of a... it's for fanni, it's something for her to remember.

Take control of who you are When the world is getting stranger Take control of who you are Stay the same, don't let them change you

But when it comes apart When it comes apart, just start again And open up your heart Take control of who you are

GLASS CEILING — metric

this is very different from the vibe of the playlist. it's more of a song about that click inside her head that's almost here. realizing how frustrating it is to let the society contain you. 

Only know what I'm told, only know what I'm told Fast asleep daydreaming Start to push, break your own glass ceiling Can't count, can't catch the pieces falling

Who let it end up on the ground How am I gonna know you're letting me down How did I end up on the ground

Only go where I'm told, only know what I'm told Inch to inches, crowding We can't leave, it's the last road open Every speed on our knees is crawling

Every speed on our knees is crawling Every speed on our knees is crawling Every speed on our knees is crawling Every speed on our knees is crawling

[short-stories-psychotic-author]

The Body

Okay so uh I don’t like this one very much, but it’s not bad. Right?

817 words

Castilla’s dark eyes flicked around the empty parking lot, her hand hovering over her gun. The river flowed swiftly behind her, dark and dangerous. She let out a sigh, reaching to open the trunk of her small car. Quietly as she could, Callista lifted the body out, hauling it to the river. Little did she know, someone was doing the exact same thing on the other side of the river.

The trees seemed to rustle in warning, but Callista ignored it. She needed to get this done and get home. She was thankful that this river wasn’t too far from her home. Sure, it might be risky, if the police found the body. She knew that was a big “if.” The speed of the current would tug this body far downriver, mutilating it in the process.

Callista knelt in the dirt to fix her concealed knife sheath because it was chafing against her olive-colored skin. She stood up, trying to brush the dirt off of her jeans. She rolled her eyes, looking toward the river. Another person stood there, holding what looked like a body. Callista panicked, grabbing her gun and holding it up. The other person had the same idea.

“Who’s there,” they yelled in unison, shakily holding up their firearms.

“You first,” Callista called, one hand falling away from the gun. She knew she could shoot one-handed, so she put her free hand on her hip. “What are you doing here?”

“Why should I tell you? You’re the one with a body. I should call the police,” the person, a female by the sound of the voice, replied snootily.

Callista scoffed. “And you don’t?” She tilted her gun pointedly towards the body bag at her feet.

The woman huffed, knowing she had been beaten. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with, and we can both go home.”

“A-alright,” Callista was surprised that she had won over this woman, who also had a dead body, and was obviously just as dangerous as herself. She shook her head, trying to clear it. The clouds had begun to disappear, and the moon was round and full. Light streamed down through the trees, sending dappled shadows dancing across the grass.  

“So,” the woman called, unzipping the body bag. Callista looked over, trying to catch a glimpse of what she really looked like. “What did that guy do to you?”

“None of your business,” Callista snapped in reply.

“Alright, alright, cool your jets. I was just trying to make small talk.” The woman laughed quietly. She had a light, airy laugh. Callista rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t really annoyed. She could see the humor this woman found in her response. They worked in silence for a few minutes, before Callista got enough courage to speak out.

“You want small talk? Okay, I can do small talk. I’m going to assume you won’t hand me over to the police because you’re doing the same thing I am,” Callista chuckled a little. “My name’s Callista. What’s yours?”

The woman looked up in surprise at her question. “M-my name’s Ophelia. Pretty unusual, huh?”

“It’s a great name,” Callista assured. She pushed the body into the river, watching the speeding current grab a hold of it and drag it down. She looked over to see Ophelia do the same. Callista thought for a moment, then, before Ophelia could turn away, cried, “Wait! Do you want to meet up another time?  Where we can just… talk?”

Ophelia looked back, grinning. “Of course! We could go to that small cafe on Hutchinson, what’s it called again?”

“Isn’t it Calypso’s Coffee or something?” Callista offered, wracking her brain for cafe names.

“Yes! That’s it. So, tomorrow at 11?” Ophelia replied, smiling brightly.

“Sure! See you tomorrow!”

Callista parked her silver Hyundai Elantra in front of the cafe, letting out a breath. She hoped that Ophelia would actually show up. Callista’s face paled as she realized she didn’t actually know what Ophelia looked like, and Ophelia didn’t know what Callista truly looked like. It had been too dark to make out the details of her face.

Callista climbed out of her small car and walked towards the cafe. She saw an auburn-haired woman sitting alone at a table, and she tentatively walked up to her.

“Excuse me? Are you Ophelia?” Callista asked warily, not sure what she’d do if it wasn’t her. The woman’s green eyes flashed with recognition.

“Callista? Wow, you’re really pretty.” Ophelia jumped up, wrapping her arms around Callista in a friendly hug. Callista stood still for a moment, surprised. She then smiled, wrapping her arms around Ophelia in the same friendly gesture.

“Thank you, though I don’t think I’m as pretty as you. I’ve always wanted red hair.” Callista returned the compliment, flipping her black hair over one shoulder.

“Well, should we order?” Ophelia asked, smiling at her newfound friend.

“Yeah, we should.”

[psychoticauthor]

The Body

Okay so uh I don’t like this one very much, but it’s not bad. Right?

817 words

Castilla’s dark eyes flicked around the empty parking lot, her hand hovering over her gun. The river flowed swiftly behind her, dark and dangerous. She let out a sigh, reaching to open the trunk of her small car. Quietly as she could, Callista lifted the body out, hauling it to the river. Little did she know, someone was doing the exact same thing on the other side of the river. 

The trees seemed to rustle in warning, but Callista ignored it. She needed to get this done and get home. She was thankful that this river wasn’t too far from her home. Sure, it might be risky, if the police found the body. She knew that was a big “if.” The speed of the current would tug this body far downriver, mutilating it in the process. 

Callista knelt in the dirt to fix her concealed knife sheath because it was chafing against her olive-colored skin. She stood up, trying to brush the dirt off of her jeans. She rolled her eyes, looking toward the river. Another person stood there, holding what looked like a body. Callista panicked, grabbing her gun and holding it up. The other person had the same idea.

“Who’s there,” they yelled in unison, shakily holding up their firearms.

“You first,” Callista called, one hand falling away from the gun. She knew she could shoot one-handed, so she put her free hand on her hip. “What are you doing here?”

“Why should I tell you? You’re the one with a body. I should call the police,” the person, a female by the sound of the voice, replied snootily. 

Callista scoffed. “And you don’t?” She tilted her gun pointedly towards the body bag at her feet. 

The woman huffed, knowing she had been beaten. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with, and we can both go home.”

“A-alright,” Callista was surprised that she had won over this woman, who also had a dead body, and was obviously just as dangerous as herself. She shook her head, trying to clear it. The clouds had begun to disappear, and the moon was round and full. Light streamed down through the trees, sending dappled shadows dancing across the grass.  

“So,” the woman called, unzipping the body bag. Callista looked over, trying to catch a glimpse of what she really looked like. “What did that guy do to you?”

“None of your business,” Callista snapped in reply. 

“Alright, alright, cool your jets. I was just trying to make small talk.” The woman laughed quietly. She had a light, airy laugh. Callista rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t really annoyed. She could see the humor this woman found in her response. They worked in silence for a few minutes, before Callista got enough courage to speak out.

“You want small talk? Okay, I can do small talk. I’m going to assume you won’t hand me over to the police because you’re doing the same thing I am,” Callista chuckled a little. “My name’s Callista. What’s yours?”

The woman looked up in surprise at her question. “M-my name’s Ophelia. Pretty unusual, huh?”

“It’s a great name,” Callista assured. She pushed the body into the river, watching the speeding current grab a hold of it and drag it down. She looked over to see Ophelia do the same. Callista thought for a moment, then, before Ophelia could turn away, cried, “Wait! Do you want to meet up another time?  Where we can just… talk?”

Ophelia looked back, grinning. “Of course! We could go to that small cafe on Hutchinson, what’s it called again?”

“Isn’t it Calypso’s Coffee or something?” Callista offered, wracking her brain for cafe names.

“Yes! That’s it. So, tomorrow at 11?” Ophelia replied, smiling brightly.

“Sure! See you tomorrow!”

Callista parked her silver Hyundai Elantra in front of the cafe, letting out a breath. She hoped that Ophelia would actually show up. Callista’s face paled as she realized she didn’t actually know what Ophelia looked like, and Ophelia didn’t know what Callista truly looked like. It had been too dark to make out the details of her face. 

Callista climbed out of her small car and walked towards the cafe. She saw an auburn-haired woman sitting alone at a table, and she tentatively walked up to her. 

“Excuse me? Are you Ophelia?” Callista asked warily, not sure what she’d do if it wasn’t her. The woman’s green eyes flashed with recognition.

“Callista? Wow, you’re really pretty.” Ophelia jumped up, wrapping her arms around Callista in a friendly hug. Callista stood still for a moment, surprised. She then smiled, wrapping her arms around Ophelia in the same friendly gesture. 

“Thank you, though I don’t think I’m as pretty as you. I’ve always wanted red hair.” Callista returned the compliment, flipping her black hair over one shoulder.

“Well, should we order?” Ophelia asked, smiling at her newfound friend. 

“Yeah, we should.”

[go4blood]

taking orders // l.h.

Where you think you hate the new waiter at your job, but do you actually?

Yo! I’ve had this idea for a while so I hope you guys enjoy! this is my first time writing smut so spare me. Feedback is appreciated as always! 

Edit: I’ve decided to make a series called 9to5!sos where they have everyday minimum wage jobs, so this is the first one :)

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: smut and strong language

Pairing: waiter!luke x reader

Tense: first person

I buttoned my ironed, white shirt to the very top and tucked it into my black pants. I looked through my drawer and found the one tie I owned and tied it around my neck. God, I was running late AGAIN. Going ten over the speed limit wouldn’t hurt, right? I quickly grabbed my apron from my chair and ran out to my car. Nothing like working the brunch shift. Waking up at an ungodly hour to try and beat traffic. Snobby, rich old people getting tipsy off of the mimosas and holding a grudge if you ever take more than 5 minutes to get them another one. My favorite shift ever, isn’t it? Yeah, right. It sucks. Everyday I regret not doing better in school and getting a scholarship to go to college and actually be productive in life. Instead, I slave away every weekend and evening after classes to pay for college.

Lucky for me, I barely beat the traffic and make it to work with 2 minutes to spare. I parked in the back with every other employee and quickly go in through the back door. I greet the people I work with today and go to the computer to clock in. After that, I go to the hostess stand while I tie my apron around my waist and see what five tables I’m in charge of until 4 o’clock. Patrons start rolling in within ten minutes and it’s time to start working.

Suddenly, my boss walked to me with a pep in her step as she usually does. Violet was a nice older woman in her late forties with kind eyes and a way with words that could make anyone smile.

“Honey, I thought I should ask you rather than surprise you, we have a new waiter I just hired. He’s a nice young man around your age, I was wondering if you could train him tomorrow evening? It’s Monday, so it won’t be busy. I would never make you train someone on a day like today.” She was rambling, as per usual, and I interrupted her as I often have to.

“Yes, I can train him. It’s no problem.” I smiled and she let out a sigh of relief. Everyone always complained about training new people, but I was always happy to. Violet gave me a chance after I graduated and was desperate to pay tuition, so it was the least I could do.

“Thank you, sweetie. Okay, I won’t keep you. Don’t be afraid to let me know if you need anything!” And with that, she walked back through the kitchen doors and to her office.

I walked to my section and waited for my customers to arrive. Not long after, two of my tables were filled and I could finally get to work. I took drink orders and made brief small talk. Most of these people were actually pretty nice and patient, thankfully. It made my shift go by a lot faster.

—

My shift ended after a grueling 6 hours with no break. I went into the kitchen and clocked out, getting ready to leave until I was told Violet wanted me in her office. I went into her office, closing the door behind me to see her along with a guy around my age.

He had blue eyes that looked like tropical ocean water you could dive into. His golden curls fell below his ears and he was insanely tall. He towered over me and Violet. And, not to mention, he was extremely broad. He wore a button up shirt that looked to be silk buttoned quite low that was tucked into his tight jeans. He was gorgeous, I had to admit. But he didn’t look friendly. His eyes stared into my soul and when he shook my hand, it was too firm. Not a good firm, a ‘let’s get this over with’ firm. But maybe looks are deceiving. I silently hoped so.

“Hey, I’m Luke, the one you’ll be training tomorrow.” His face just screamed ‘get me the hell out of here’. It was quite unsettling.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” I gave an awkward smile. God, get me the hell out of here, “See you tomorrow night!”

And with that, I got the hell out of there.

—

“Ana, you will not believe what happened today!” I loosened my tie, pulling it over my head and throwing it on my desk and unbuttoning a few of the top buttons on my shirt.

My roommate, Ana, was lying in her bed watching Netflix. She was tall with auburn hair and brown eyes. Her eyes were like daggers, but her personality was far from that. She immediately paused her show and looked at me expectantly, “Tell me more! You can’t come in here yelling with a lame story so it better be good.”

“So this new guy got hired, and he is absolutely gorgeous. He is sent from the gods. Curly golden hair, blue eyes, tall, broad, blah blah blah, but! He has the personality of a fucking door. He already seems like an arrogant asshole. And I have to train him tomorrow! God, I am not ready for it at all. My boss said he has experience, so he probably thinks he’s so great, ugh! I already hate him.” I was pacing around the room, ranting, absolutely pissed. I was so unlucky.

“Maybe it was just an off day, y/n. He can’t be that bad already! Look on the bright side for once, let loose! Watch Stranger Things with me and forget about some stupid guy.” She patted the spot next to her on her bed, and I sat next to her.

“Steve is the only man who is relevant anyways.”

—

I clocked in for my shift, looking around for Luke. I spotted him in Violet’s office, so I let myself in.

“Ready for your first day?” I tried to sound enthusiastic, but it felt impossible. He silently nodded with an unamused look on his face, following me out of the office. This is gonna suck.

I led him to the hostess stand and showed him where our section would be, “So, right after you clock in, you’re gonna need to check in with the hostesses so they can start seating your section and so you know what tables are yours.”

“Mhm.” He was so unamused. He had no emotion. God, it was unbearable.

“After you get off of training, you’ll only get 3 tables for a week or two and slowly get more…” he nodded, still unamused.

One of my tables got filled. It was a couple in their late 40s or early 50s. This could be either great or terrible.

I went to their table and put on my customer service voice, “Hello guys! Welcome to Ophelia’s. My name is Y/N and I will be your server tonight. This is Luke, my trainee. He’ll be watching me tonight. Can I start you off with some drinks?”

“Can we get a bottle of Hermann J. Wiemer HJW Vineyard Riesling 2016, please? It’s our anniversary.” The husband looked at his wife lovingly, thank god, nice customers.

“Of course! Would you like some waters as well?”

“That would be great, thank you so much.” I picked up the pitcher of water nearby, filling the glasses on the table, then leaving to go to the bar.

We walked back to the bar and I stopped just outside of the entrance of it.

“So, when someone orders alcohol, you have to tell a bartender. In the case of wine, they’ll just give you the bottle and the glasses so you can pour it at their table for them.”

“Yeah, that’s how it was when I worked for my dad at his restaurant. Nothing new.” His tone was flat. He was obviously ready for his training to end but he had 4 more hours of it.

“Okay, good for you, but I still have to tell you what we do.” I snapped, then told the bartender what I needed.

After receiving the wine and the glasses we went back to the table. The customer service voice was back.

“Here is your wine,” I set the glasses on the table, then opened the bottle of wine and poured it in their glass. I screwed the cap back on, setting the bottle on the table, “Are you two ready to order? Or do you need a few minutes?”

They ordered their meals and I led Luke to one of the four computers to punch in the order.

“This is where you punch orders in. You’ll log in and press the ‘take orders’ button. It’s touch screen. Type it in and specify anything that needs left out or added in. But I’m sure you’ve done this before, right?” My tone was cold. I was absolutely pissed at him. I quickly punched in the order and pressed submit.

“You know, it’s not my fault I could run circles around you doing the same job even though you’ve had it longer. It’s in my genes, sweetheart.”

I couldn’t even begin to think of what to say. I silently walked to my other tables with him following behind, having to pretend I wasn’t filled with rage.

—

“Ana! He somehow got fucking worse!” I pulled off my uniform and changed into sweats and a t shirt, absolutely fuming.

“What did he do now?”

“He’s so arrogant! He kept disregarding everything I taught him, saying he already knew everything! He’s such a dick! I hate him!” I jumped face first into my twin size bed, groaning into my pillow, “why are all the hot ones shitty people?”

Ana sighed, squeezing beside me on the bed, “I wish I knew. But you know what you need to do now, right?”

“What?” At this point, I was desperate for answers.

“Make way better tips than him, give way better service, show him he’ll never be better than you! Make him come to his senses. You’re the baddest bitch I know. Act like it!”

I sighed, rolling onto my back, “I’m gonna be better than him. I am better than him.”

“Damn right you are! Let’s get drunk!”

—

A week had passed since Luke decided to ruin my life and start working at Ophelia’s. He was finished with training so he had his own tables now. It was my time to prove that he will never be better than me.

I checked on my tables frequently, making sure drinks stayed filled at all times. I constantly checked to see how far along the food was in the kitchen. I was on top of everything.

It happened to be Thursday, and my regular customers who always request me were there. I went over to their table to have conversation since I finally had a minute to breathe.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Fendel! How has retirement been treating you guys?”

Mrs. Fendel let out a sigh of admiration, “Oh it’s just lovely, I finally have peace. It’s really nice. How have you been honey?”

“Oh I’ve been okay, you know, college stuff.”

“What was your major again, love?”

“Forensic psychology, my dad did that, so I wanted to follow in his footsteps.” I smiled, clicking my pen subconsciously.

Mrs. Fendel looked over to the other side of the restaurant, “Who is that young man? I’ve never seen him before… the one with the blond hair?”

I knew exactly who she was talking about without even looking, “That’s Luke. He’s new.” I had a tone of disinterest in my voice. There was no way for me to show the slightest bit of interest in him.

“Well isn’t he a handsome young man?” She gave me the ‘why don’t you try getting on that’ look that old women give when they try match making. A look I knew all too well. But there was no way in hell that I would ever be caught dead trying to get with Luke. He was an asshole who only thought about himself. He was self centered and arrogant; I hate him.

“He’s just… not the nicest guy in the world. I’m gonna go check on your food, and I’ll be right back.” I forced a smile and walked away. God, it felt impossible to like Luke in any way, shape, or form. My thoughts were interrupted by a very late “on your left” and a tray of drinks being spilled all over me and glasses hitting the floor and breaking. My white shirt was covered in red wine and champagne. I looked to see who was the one who bumped into me with the tray, and to my luck, it was Luke fucking Hemmings.

“Are you kidding me!? You said you were coming out of the doors at the very last second!”

“Maybe watch where you’re going rather than counting on me to warn you! It’s common sense! But you wouldn’t know, would you?” He was picking up the shards of glass and staring daggers into my soul.

I didn’t even know what to say. I was unbelievably pissed off. I quickly walked into the kitchen, far away from him. What the fuck was his problem? Why did he feel the need to be a fucking dick constantly? I sighed heavily and walked straight to the bathroom, not even bothering to lend a helping hand to Luke. Once I was in the restroom I made sure I was alone before I slid down the wall inside the stall and started crying. ‘ I have to get revenge,’ I thought evilly to myself. Maybe Ana would know just what to do. Or maybe I could just kill him with kindness.

—

“Y/N, just ignore him! He isn’t worth your time and effort.”

“I wanna get revenge for his shitty attitude, Ana! He deserves a taste of his own medicine…”

She sighed, looking me dead in the eyes, “I have a few ideas.”

“Lay then on me. I’m open to anything.”

She hummed, closing the bottle of nail polish she was using and putting it on the floor, “Well, you could just be overly nice to him.”

“I want to scheme though.”

She sighed, “Okay fine… I have a great idea. You guys punch in orders electronically, right?” I nodded, eager to hear the rest of what she had to say, “You could delete the orders he puts in so the kitchen doesn’t get them, and then his customers will be mad at him for taking forever to get the food out. Little does he know, his order didn’t even make it to the kitchen. He’ll get in trouble, and he won’t be on his high horse saying he’s the best.”

Ana was a genius. I slowly smiled, I had my plan. This had to work. “You’re a fucking genius.”

“What can I say? I somehow got into college, so there’s gotta be a little bit of smarts somewhere in this brain of mine.”

“How do I make sure he doesn’t find out I’m the one doing it?”

She let out a chuckle, “Don’t get caught. Better get ready, your shifts in an hour and a half.”

—

I checked in at the hostess stand so my tables could get seated. It was Friday, so it was a little busier than usual. But not terribly. So it was the perfect day to sabotage Luke, if I went through with it. But my tables were first priority. Two of my tables got filled, so I quickly got their drink orders and had small talk. But as soon as I got the drinks to their tables I realized I accidentally gave the woman unsweetened tea instead of sweet, and as soon as she tasted it she had to give it back. I quickly went back into the kitchen, where I saw Luke’s stupid face.

“Can’t read the clear labels that say sweetened and unsweetened, sweetheart?” He had a sarcastic undertone with each word he spoke to me and had a stupid grin on his face. Asshole.

“Fuck off, asshole.”

“Well you’re sassy, aren’t you, princess?”

After this shitty encounter, I thought it was a good time to start sabotaging him. He walked out of the kitchen to take entree orders for a table of 4. He flashed a charismatic smile to everyone and walked away when he finished. Ugh, that stupid smile of his. Everyone just thinks he’s amazing, I hate it. He put in his order on the computer, walking in back to most likely get more drinks for one of his other tables. I quickly ran to the computer he just used and went to the ‘processing orders’ option. Lucky for me, Violet trusted me enough and gave me the login that gives me access to everything. I cancelled the order he just put in and logged out as soon as I finished. I wasn’t going to do this for every single order obviously, but enough to where Violet would notice and have to talk to him.

I went back to my table and took their orders as if nothing happened, like I normally would.

About twenty minutes passed pretty quickly, and I was going to the kitchen to see how far along the meals I put in were.

“What do you mean you didn’t get the order I put in? I put it in twenty minutes ago! It makes no sense. Fuck, now I have to somehow explain this. It was two pesto chicken pastas and two clam chowders. I need it as soon as possible, I’m sorry, it’s my fault I should’ve checked earlier.” Luke was visibly stressed out of his mind as he walked back to the table.

This would teach him. I only planned on doing it one more time, just to teach him a lesson. I walked back to my table with the water pitcher, filling the empty glasses as I eavesdropped on Luke’s conversation with his table.

“I’m so sorry for the wait, but our computer system glitched a-and your order got deleted so it’s just now getting started but I promise I’ll get it to you as soon as possible, um would you guys like an appetizer? For free, of course, on me.”

He was so stressed out, he desperately needed to be liked. He couldn’t stand the idea of anyone complaining about him. He thought he had to be perfect at all times, and it was refreshing to see him make a mistake.

The customers were very obviously frustrated, but took up his offer on the appetizer. When Luke walked away, worry was all over his face. He was stressed out of his mind. Maybe this would teach him a lesson.

I walked around my section, asking if everyone was doing alright and refilled drinks. A customer ordered a salad, so I had to go to the kitchen to make it for them. As I went to the salad station, I saw Violet talking to Luke in the corner.

“You cannot mess up this bad, Luke. It doesn’t make us look good at all. I know you just started, but with experience on your belt, I expected more from you. It happening to one table is an accident, but twice? You had to just not use the computer right.”

Luke was extremely upset, and he wouldn’t let her walk away without his side of the story, “I swear I pressed submit each time! Violet, I really need this job. This is the only thing I’m good at, I swear it won’t happen again. Just give me another chance, I’m so sorry.” He was desperate to keep this job. He was practically begging on his knees, proving he learned his lesson.

Violet let out a heavy sigh, “I’m not gonna fire you, Luke. But I have to write you up… I know you can be better. Prove it.” And with that, she walked away from him. I finally did it, I gave him the lesson he deserved.

“Y/N! Honey, I have a favor.” Violet’s distinct voice rang through the kitchen.

I turned around, the bowl of salad I just made on a tray in my hands, “What is it?”

“I need you to close with Luke tonight and tomorrow. After what he did, I think you need to teach him the right way to do things again.”

God damn it. I have to be alone with him. Fuck, shit. And I can’t say no either, “Yes, of course, no problem.”

Son of a bitch. Karma for getting revenge, I suppose.

—

“I don’t fucking get why she had to pick you to close with me.” Luke was fuming as he held trash bags in each of his hands.

I quickly ran up behind him and pulled the back of his shirt to make him turn and look at me, “I could say the fucking same about you, Luke! Listen, I get that you fucked up, but you could maybe stop blaming others for your mistakes!”

“Oh, cry me a fucking river! You just hate that I’m better than you! You can’t stand it!”

I could feel the tears coming, but I tried so hard to hold it in, “You’re a dick!”

“You’re a jealous bitch!”

“Fuck you, Luke!” The tears started streaming down my face, and there was no stopping them. I quickly walked away from him to the bathroom, locking the door and letting it all out. Why was I letting him get to me? I let out loud sobs that had no sign of stopping. He was right— I am jealous. I don’t want to be replaced because of him being better than me.

He knocked on the bathroom door, “Y/N? Please come out, I-I just want to talk. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings… if you want to come out, I’ll be at a table rolling silverware… I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean it.” I heard his footsteps fade away, and I was contemplating leaving the bathroom. It was hard to decide. Eventually, I had to leave the bathroom, so I got up and left to go join him at a table.

I saw him in a booth across the restaurant and sat across from him. I started to roll the silverware silently, keeping my eyes glued downwards at the task at hand. Sometimes, I would look up at him, but then he would look at me so I’d quickly look away.

This continued for ten minutes, and it was extremely awkward.

He finally decided to break the silence, “So, um, Violet said you’ve worked here a year?”

You were surprised he was the one to start a conversation, but you decided you should be civil and talk back, despite the fact that he just made you bawl your eyes out in the bathroom, “Yeah, um, I was desperate to pay for college so she took me in. I’m practically her daughter at this point. So... she said you have experience already?”

“Yeah, my dad owned a restaurant, it was the family business. It was my great grandpa’s, then my grandpa’s, then my dad’s, and I was supposed to be next… but we went out of business. I worked there as soon as I turned 15. I was so excited to inherit it, but that’s not gonna happen now, so. It is what it is.”

I frowned, he had a lot more to him than I initially thought, “I’m sorry about that…”

“It’s whatever, I guess everything happens for a reason,” his tone was cold. He was extremely upset about this. When he would look at me, it was like he actually had sincerity in his heart, “I’m sorry for being arrogant and acting like I know everything. I’m just… still angry. I got cocky whenever my dad told me I would be getting the business once he retired. But then shortly after, business wasn’t booming anymore and he had to close the restaurant. I’m basically full of angst and take my anger out on others. It’s a bad trait.”

I instantly regretted what I did. It was wrong of him to be arrogant, but he was just angry at the world. He wasn’t just angry at me, “Luke, it’s okay to be angry. I would be, too.”

“You’re not too bad of a waitress, I guess you may be a little better than me,” He grinned, cracking the joke to lighten the mood, “I’m sorry for making you cry… I wish I could undo that. Let me buy you dinner? There’s this diner a few miles away open 24 hours.”

“Okay, sure. Let’s get dinner.” I smiled, and for the first time, I think he smiled back with sincerity.

—

Surprisingly, dinner went really well last night. Luke wasn’t as bad as he initially seemed to be. He was actually really funny, and pretty nice once you get past his built up angst. My phone lit up with a text message.

‘I had a really good time last night. See you at work tomorrow morning :)’

I smiled to myself, quickly replying and sitting my phone down.

“What are you smiling about?” Ana smirked, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Oh… just, Luke isn’t as bad as I thought, actually. He’s kind of cool.”

“Is that so? He isn’t actually an arrogant asshole?”

I shook my head, “No, actually; he’s full of angst, though. But he’ll get better eventually. We work the same shift again tonight.”

“Don’t let him be mean to you again!”

“He won’t!”

—

It was extremely busy at the restaurant. I messed up drink orders more often than usual, and I brought the wrong food to the wrong table more than once. I was stressed out of my mind. I walked into the kitchen and made 3 drinks quickly; the kitchen was a complete madhouse. I put the drinks on my tray and turned around to see Luke, but it was too late to stop, causing the drinks fall to the floor.

He sighed impatiently, a look of annoyance painted all over his face, “Y/N, today is not the fucking day to mess-“ He saw me wince when he started to yell, and he stopped himself, bending down to pick up the cups and lowering his tone, “Hey, it’s okay, tonight is rough. Just take a deep breath. I’m sorry.”

“Luke! You’re not helping, please just give me a break!” I quickly remade the drinks and walked away, feeling like I was about to cry my eyes out. This shift would never end. There was only an hour left, but it felt like an eternity. The tips tonight weren’t as good due to the several mistakes, which didn’t surprise me. Everything was going wrong. I served my last table their meals and went to the now calm kitchen to take a breather.

—

Once everyone left, it was time to close the restaurant. The only people left were Luke and myself. I was silently sweeping the floor when I heard his voice from behind me.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you today, I was just stressed out.”

“Luke you just don’t get it. I’m not good at this job; you’re so much better than me. I don’t wanna lose my job, but I’m scared that soon enough I will. I need this job to pay for college, but I don’t even deserve it!”

“Y/N! You deserve it way more than me! What do you even mean you don’t?”

“You know, when you first got hired, I claimed that I was better than you. But in reality, I just didn’t want anyone to be better than me because I can’t lose this. After today, Violet was so disappointed in me! I just don’t know what to-“

I was cut off by him grabbing a fist full of my shirt and crashing his lips onto mine. At first, I didn’t move. He pulled away, looking me in the eyes, “Relax, babe. You’re not gonna lose your job. You’re way better than I’ll ever be at this job. You’re amazing, and I never hated you. I was just cocky and stupid, and I’m sorry.”

I kissed him, tangling one hand in his hair. He held my waist, pulling away to take me to the empty bathroom. He pulled his tie off, then started to unbutton my shirt, pausing to ask if it was okay. I nodded eagerly, also unbuttoning his shirt and taking his tie off.

“Needy much, darling?” He smirked, priding himself on his cocky attitude.

I blushed, nodding quickly, “I guess you could say that.” His knee found its way between my legs and I bucked my hips forward in an attempt to create friction.

He chuckled darkly, “I’m sure once I give you the real thing you won’t need to put in this much effort, love.”

I clenched my teeth, speaking between my teeth, “Then do it, love.”

“My pleasure.” He lifted me onto the sink, pulling my pants down and pulling a condom out of his pocket. He slowly pushed into me, trying to give me time to adjust to his size.

I winced and gripped a handful of his hair, hoping to God  I’d eventually adjust. With my other hand, I gripped onto his shoulder, pushing my head back and breathing heavily, “A-ah Luke-“

“Doing alright, darling?” He kissed up my neck, leaving small marks here and there. His voice was filled with lust, “You’re doing so good, baby, taking my cock so good, aren’t you?”

I moaned in response, hoping he wouldn’t stop praising me. I can’t lie- it turned me on. He picked up his pace, gripping my hip and biting his lip in concentration.

“Luke, I’m so close, faster!” He went faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“Come on princess, hold out just a little longer for me. Can you do that for me? Can you be a good girl for me?”

I nodded quickly, eager for release. His hand made its way to my clit, and I gasped at the sudden pleasure, “I’m gonna cum, Luke!”

“Me too, fuck.” I gripped his hair in my fist even tighter, and my orgasm tore through me.

Luke was close behind, “God, you did so good, baby.” His movements slowed down, and he was catching his breath. He slowly pulled out of me and slipped off the condom, disposing it.

I looked at him, in a daze, “So, uh, what now?”

He hummed, “Well, I guess we should finish our closing work. And then I can take you to dinner if you’re up for it?”

I chuckled, “It’s the least you could do for fucking me before our first date.” I kissed him softly, smiling at him. Maybe he wasn’t just some angst filled waiter after all.

—

I woke up the next morning to a text from Luke.

‘I had a great time last night, can we get coffee like, as soon as you wake up?’

I smiled, answering immediately, ‘see you there in 30 minutes.’

I quickly got dressed and left to my car. I drove to the coffee shop and parked my car in a pretty close parking spot. I went inside and ordered an iced latte, dropping an extra dollar in the tip jar. I sat at the table, waiting for him to arrive.

He arrived shortly after, ordering an americano and sitting across from me.

“So, last night was… really good. I enjoyed it a lot.” He smiled at me, putting his hand on top of mine.

“I did too. I really did. You’re a better guy than I thought, Luke.”

“Do you want to, maybe, be a thing?”

I chuckled, “You mean date?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Oh I don’t know Luke… you’re kind of the worst.” I smirked and he rolled his eyes, leaning over the table and kissing me sweetly.

“But you love it.”

—

Taglist

@blahehblah

@i-calumhood

@angelbabylu

[daisyxbuckley]

Only Human//Mitch Rapp Series

A/N: WHOOT Last part of this series. There will be another but DAMN it felt good to finish this one lol. I am so happy for everyone who encouraged me to write and post this. I’m glad that everyone has liked it so far! 

Description: Ophelia Lane has a past that most CIA operatives would hate to have. The 25 year old is sent back to The Barn to help Stan train the new batch of recruits, including one that is hell bent on getting revenge. Can she keep it together or will a secret that is hidden under the surface come back and haunt her?

@cxddlyash @xceafh @stiles-o-dylan24 @dylan-obrien-fanblog @n0rdicstar

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Ronnie’s body dropped to the floor and Ophelia followed right after. The adrenaline from everything that had been going on was almost gone, and she felt weaker than ever from the blood loss. Mitch quickly scrambled up and ran over to her, catching her in his arms before she hit the ground. Ophelia curled into him as he gently lowered her to the floor, her fists balling his shirt up as she clung to him out of exhaustion and fear. 

“Hey..hey look at me O.” Mitch said quietly looking down at her and moving some of her hair out of her face. Even after everything she had been through he still thought she was the most beautiful thing. “Hey come on..we have to get out of here.” 

“Mitch, you need to go.” Ophelia whispered. Talking took too much out of her and all she wanted to do was go to sleep. “He had someone take the bomb...he's going to the harbor to set it off.” Mitch looked down her torso trying to get rid of some of the blood, finally seeing the stab wound in her side. She put her hand over his as he tried to staunch the blood flow and looked up at him. “Please...you need to go finish what needs to be done.” 

“Ophelia you are out of your fucking mind if you think i’m leaving you alone.” Mitch said moving his hand back up and cupping her face. Her hair was falling everywhere and he moved it again before bringing her closer. “You need to get help O, i’m not leaving you alone.” 

“Yes you are boy.” A voice made Mitch look up and he visibly relaxed when he saw Stan come in the room with two more agents. “You have a job to do. I’ll take her from here.” He said looking down at his daughter. Ophelia’s eyes had closed but she was smiling at the voice signaling that her father had arrived. Mitch looked back down at Ophelia and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“You better be alive when I get back..you hear me?” He whispered in her ear. Ophelia let out a small laugh before he pulled her closer and kissed her head again. Handing her off to Stan, he took off after the bomb. 

Ophelia watched him as he left before turning to her dad. “You know..I should be mad at you.” She said weakly as one of the agents started working on her. “Yeah I know sweetheart. But that’s a fight for another time.” Stan said squeezing her hand as the agent worked. 

“Good news is she is going to live. The blood loss was a lot but as long as we get her to the hospital she should be okay.” The male agent looked at both Ophelia and Stan while patching her up. “He missed major arteries..but if we didn’t get here to help then you would have died.” 

Laughing slightly, Ophelia let her dad help her up. “Well good thing he was always way to cocky. He figured I would die before you guys got here.” She said looking over at the body of her now dead husband. She felt nothing and if she was in the position that she was in, then she would of done it again. Looking down she realized that she was still in her bra and a blush grew in her cheeks. 

“Uh dad..can I have a shirt?” She asked quietly. Stan looked at her and realized before looking at the agents. 

“Tanner, you have a tank top under your shirt right?” He barked. Tanner looked over at Stan with an odd look and nodded. “Good, take off your shirt and give it to Ophelia.” When Agent Tanner realized what was happening he snapped to it. 

“Here you go Ophelia.” He said. She smiled a thanks as she gently slid the Henley over her head. Looking at her dad she sighed.

“We need to go help him.” She said as she tried to get him to walk. “Uh no. You’re not going anywhere except the hospital.” Stan said looking at his daughter and motioning for Tanner to come get her. 

“Dad he needs me there.” Ophelia yelled, the anxiety in her voice showing. She couldn’t lose him, the girl didn’t think she would survive it. 

“No, he needs you alive. I will go get him.” He said pressing a kiss on her forehead. “Tanner straight to the hospital or I will shoot you in the head myself.” 

Ophelia hung on to Agent Tanner as she watched the other important man in her life run into danger. 

******************************

Mitch ran as fast as he could through the tunnel. His mind was on the mission but he was still worried about Ophelia and if she was alive or not. He took the maze like tunnel all the way through till the end where it came out to the harbor. Noticing a boat on the dock that was getting ready to leave he realized that had to of been the one he was looking for. Taking off after it, he saw that the goon in the boat noticed him coming and raced to take off. Mitch got to the end of the dock, he jumped onto the roof of another boat before leaping through the air. Catching the end of the speedboat Mitch pulled himself up and made his way over to the other man. 

Mitch reached the taller man right as he realized that Mitch was there. The boat careened harshly as they fought each other, trying to maintain dominance. Mitch launched forward at the man securing his arms around his waist, feeling a gun. Grabbing it and stepping back Mitch shot the other man in between the eyes and watched as he fell overboard. Running to where the bomb was he noticed that he had about 5 minutes left on it before it went off, but they were still too close to land. 

Pushing the lever, Mitch felt the boat start to speed up. The further he got out into the bay the better. Hearing something over the radio Mitch looked down realizing it was Stan. 

“Rapp..Rapp you better pick up the fucking walkie. I can see you.” Stan yelled over the radio. Mitch smiled picking it up and bringing it to his lips. 

“Good to hear your voice sir.” He said with a small laugh. 

“Rapp drop that bomb overboard and we are going to get you the hell out of there.” 

“Sir I can’t do that. I’m not far enough out yet.” Mitch said shaking his head wondering what the hell Stan was getting at. 

“Damnit Rapp. You have all of First Fleet pointing their guns at you. They are going to blow you sky high so drop the fucking bomb in the water and we will come get you.” Stan yelled. Mitch dropped the radio and ran over to the bomb seeing it had about a minute left. Dropping it over, he looked up as the helicopter appeared above him. Noticing the hook that was coming down Mitch grabbed it and wrapped it around him and pulled for them to lift him up. 

Stan reached his hands out and grabbed Mitch by the shirt hauling him into the seat. Mitch looked over at him and strapped his seat belt on as Stan moved his hand to tell the pilot to get out of there. Looking down it was like watching everything in slow motion. The bomb went off and at first it looked like it wouldn’t do anything ...then the cyclone started. It created a hole in the water that started swallowing everything in its path. The waves that came through looked high enough that they could reach the helicopter. The force of the bomb going off started destroying the ships around the, but Mitch noticed that thankfully none of them had tipped over yet. 

The helicopter started having alarms go off and the pilots fought to gain control of it. Mitch held onto the rope inside as he closed his eyes waiting for all of it to pass. Then as soon as it started..it stopped. Opening his eyes Mitch realized that they were still airborne and that it looked like the ships suffered minimal damage. Looking over at Stan he had to laugh at the look on the man’s face. 

“You shouldn’t of come after me.” Mitch yelled over to him. Stan shook his head before looking out the side of the aircraft. 

“Have you met my daughter? She can hold a grudge and I already have to spend a lifetime making up to her about everything that happened. I didn’t wanna add not saving you to that.” Stan said trying not to crack a smile. As much as he voiced his disdain for him, Mitch had grown on Stan. 

Mitch looked back out over the water before looking back and noticing Stan handing the headset he was wearing to him. “It’s Irene.” 

“Mitch..are you okay?” Irene asked him as he put the headset on. Laughing Mitch looked at Stan and shook his head, wiping some of the blood off his face. 

“Oh yeah. I’m great.” 

“You saved a lot of people today.” Irene said quietly. “Someone will be waiting for you when you land.” She said before she cut the signal. Mitch handed the headset back to Stan with a confused look as the helicopter started to descend. It was then that he looked down and realized what she meant. 

Ophelia was standing there with her hand shielding her eyes looking up. The wind was whipping her hair around and she had a hard look on her face as she leaned up against one of the agents that came to save her with her dad. She was still barefoot and had refused to go to the hospital until she knew Mitch was safe.

Mitch didn’t even wait for the aircraft to touch down before he had jumped out the side and ran towards her. He saw the smile on her face that was wide just for him. The smile that lit his entire life up from the moment she shot it his way.  The smile that he thought he wouldn’t see again. Reaching her, Mitch grabbed her in his arms and pulled her close, He could feel her hands wrap around him and tangle in his shit as his wound around her and squeezed gently. Planting kisses on top of her head they finally pulled back. 

“You ever do anything like that again, and I’ll kill you myself.” She whispered, tears falling from her eyes as a small smile played on her lips. 

“Hey, you told me to go. I had to save the world babe.” Mitch replied as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Stan had appeared behind them glaring at Agent Tanner who was holding his hands up. 

“Tanner, I said straight to the hospital.” Stan growled. 

“Sir you may be scary, but Ophelia is worse.” Tanner said looking at her and Mitch wondered what she could of done. Shaking his head he pulled Ophelia closer and started walking towards the car. 

“Come on crazy girl. Let’s get you patched up.” 

******************************

1 month later

Mitch looked out at the sunset that was spreading vibrant colors across the Dubai sky. The beach chair he sat on had a perfect view of the vast water that expanded in front of him. He was able to keep tabs on everyone that was either in the water or on the beach. 

He was able to keep tabs on her. 

Ophelia stood out in the water about waist deep, her camera pointed up as she took pictures of the brilliant reds, oranges and pinks that littered the sunset. Every time she brought the camera down to look at the picture the diamond ring on her hand glittered. They had decided to take a break after the last mission ...well Ophelia did. She knew that Mitch was here undercover, hence the ring that was on her finger to go with their married cover. Mitch continued to watch her as she did one of the things that she loved to do. The blue bathing suit curved to her figure, her brunette hair falling down her back as she turned and shot a smile at him over her shoulder. 

That smile. It made his heart stop every time that he saw it. 

Looking down at his hand, he stared at the picture that he had of him and Katrina that day at the beach. The last picture he had of her. Ophelia knew about it and she understood why he kept it. And he was thankful enough that it didn’t bug her. Getting up he put it back in his wallet and threw that back in his bag before heading out to the water where Ophelia was. Wrapping his arms around her waist, she kissed her neck and shoulder as she leaned into him. 

“We need to start heading in.” He whispered. Since the day she got captured he didn’t let her leave his sight. He stayed at the hospital while she was there for a week and when they got back to the states, he stayed at her apartment with her. The only time they were apart was when he went and told Irene they were taking a vacation somewhere. 

“It’s beautiful huh?” Ophelia asked looking up at him. She knew that this had been the first time he had been on an actual beach since the accident, that thought didn’t escape her but she was also glad that he was willing to come down here with her so she could relax. Mitch ran his hand over the scar on her side and she sighed. “Let’s go. You have a job to do” She said grabbing his hand and leading him out of the water. 

A whole other continent away, Stan Hurley was sitting in a chair in Irene’s office. She hadn’t appeared yet and he bussied himself with reading the report that both Rapp and Ophelia had sent in to him. Hearing the door open, he looked up and saw Irene who had a worried look on her face. 

“Have you spoken to Ophelia or Mitch lately?” Irene asked sitting down. 

“Do I look like i’m there keeper? Ophelia said that they were going on vacation and I left it at that.” Stan grumbled. In reality he wasn’t too happy on having his daughter be too far away from him but she assured him that with Mitch there she would be fine. 

“Well neither of them have been checking in and it's worrying me. If they were on vacation you would think one of them would have told us where they were going.” Irene said folding her hands in front of her. “Ophelia gave me a fake itinerary. They aren’t in Hawaii like she told us.” 

Stans head shot up at that. He figured that his daughter was drinking Mai Tais on the beach in Oahu right now. “So then where the fuck are they?” He asked a little too loudly. Reaching for his phone, the news on the tv finally caught their attention. 

“It looks like General Rostami is a favor to win the elections.” The news reporter said on the screen with a blank face. It flashed to a video of Rostami making a speech to a cheering crowd. 

“And he didn’t even have to blow up a country to do it.” Stan muttered as he pulled out his phone to call Ophelia. When it went straight to voicemail his eyes narrowed. 

“Stan..look.” Irene said as she turned the news up. 

“General Rostami will be in Dubai today to give one of his famous speeches.” The reporter continued. Irene and Stan looked at each other for a second before reaching for their respective phones. 

Dubai: Same Time

“I’ll see you in the room.” Mitch said placing a kiss on Ophelia’s lips. She nodded and cupped her hand to his cheek before starting towards the elevator. He watched her walk away and waited till she was safely inside before he started towards the one that he needed to be in. 

General Rostami entered the elevator a few minutes after Mitch rode it up and down once. When the stout man stepped in, he and his bodyguards gave Mitch a once over as he smiled at them politely. As they turned around and the doors closed Mitch’s  face changed. 

The ride would not end well for the General. 

[arvadthecursed]

1-100 >:)

you bastard ;p ♡

tagging @nonbinarist @tiana-ships-gayngel since they also sent in asks off anon!

1. What is you middle name? Rae

2. How old are you? 19

3. When is your birthday? December 14

4. What is your zodiac sign? Sagittarius w Gemini Rising and Pisces Descending

5. What is your favorite color? Pastel pink or pastel purple!

6. What’s your lucky number? 7

7. Do you have any pets? yes! I have a kitty named Gizmo!

8. Where are you from? Texas, currently living in NE

9. How tall are you? 4′11″/~150 cm

10. What shoe size are you? 3 or 4 in children’s/teens, 4.5 in women’s

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? 5

12. What was your last dream about? I remember being dressed in Harley Quinn pajamas I think?

13. What talents do you have? Writing, drawing, and good interpersonal skills

14. Are you psychic in any way? probably not lol if I am I just don’t know it yet

15. Favorite song? Would That I - Hozier

16. Favorite movie? oooh that’s a tough one. I’m gonna say Alien, Bladerunner, or Annihilation

17. Who would be your ideal partner? Arvad the Cursed LOL that was a real hard one ;p

18. Do you want children? yes! I would love at least one daughter, but I would like 2-3 kids total!

19. Do you want a church wedding? not sure tbh. I kind of flip flop between wanting a church wedding or an outdoor wedding.

20. Are you religious? No

21. Have you ever been to the hospital? No22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? I’ve been pulled over for speeding but I got off with a warning

23. Have you ever met any celebrities? not yet!

24. Baths or showers? Showers!

25. What color socks are you wearing? none at the moment

26. Have you ever been famous? on tumblr LOL

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? I think being a mid-size celebrity would be cool, so I could still go out and stuff, but I’d still have some fame.

28. What type of music do you like? I really like rock, pop, and folk!

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? No

30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 2

31. What position do you usually sleep in? I always sleep curled up in the fetal position lmao

32. How big is your house? It’s middle size, I think, not too big, not too small.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast? Cocoa Dyno-bites cereal

34. Have you ever fired a gun? No

35. Have you ever tried archery? Yes, in gym class

36. Favorite clean word? Hmm, I really love words so this is tough. I’ll go with simulacrum tho! 

37. Favorite swear word? the classic “fuck”

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? 30ish hours

39. Do you have any scars? Yes, I have a burn scar on my right hand and a scar on my right shin from falling down the stairs.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? Yes

41. Are you a good liar? not at all lmao.

42. Are you a good judge of character? I am now but when I was younger not so much

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? I can do a decent Russian accent.

44. Do you have a strong accent? Not usually but I know my Texas twang comes out sometimes lol

45. What is your favorite accent? Russian or any Hispanic accents, they’re so pretty!

46. What is your personality type? ENFP-T

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? a nice dress I bought for special occasions/interviews, it was $110

48. Can you curl your tongue? No

49. Are you an innie or an outie? Innie

50. Left or right handed? Right

51. Are you scared of spiders? Oh absolutely, my dad let me watch Eight Legged Freaks when I was 5 and it fucked me up real good

52. Favorite food? Fettucine alfredo or pancakes

53. Favorite foreign food? sweet and sour chicken w/ fried rice and lo mein

54. Are you a clean or messy person? messy, but it’s an organized chaos

55. Most used phrase? “hmm. fuck” mentally, “umm, excuse me, please” irl

56. Most used word? “oof”

57. How long does it take for you to get ready? 15-20 minutes

58. Do you have much of an ego? No, I wouldn’t say so.

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? gotta get that c r u n c h

60. Do you talk to yourself? In the car I do

61. Do you sing to yourself? Yes

62. Are you a good singer? Ehhhhhh lol.

63. Biggest Fear? being alone and unloved

64. Are you a gossip? Only to my best friends, but 95% of the time I prefer to just sit and listen.

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? Oh that’s tough. I’ll go with Sunshine tho!

66. Do you like long or short hair? I like my hair short. On other people I don’t mind either.

67. Can you name all 50 states of America? If I’m given time and a few hints I could!

68. Favorite school subject? English or Anatomy

69. Extrovert or Introvert? Introvert despite me being unable to Shut The Fuck Up online

70. Have you ever been scuba diving? No but I want to

71. What makes you nervous? Is “existing” an acceptable answer?

72. Are you scared of the dark? No

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? Only if it’s something major. Most of the time I just leave it alone.

74. Are you ticklish? Sort of. 

75. Have you ever started a rumor? No

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? Yes, I was vice president of my school’s NSDA chapter and head of extemp in speech!

77. Have you ever drank underage? No, I haven’t drank at all.

78. Have you ever done drugs? No

79. Who was your first real crush? A boy named Andres back in 4th grade. I made him hold my hand on our way back from an amusement park field trip.

80. How many piercings do you have? Just 1 right now, my ears. I’m going to get my nose repierced soon.

81. Can you roll your Rs? yes

82. How fast can you type? Very fast, I think the last time I checked it was over 150 words per min?

83. How fast can you run? Not very fast anymore LOL

84. What color is your hair? Brown

85. What color is your eyes? Green-gray

86. What are you allergic to? Pollen and dander, and I think penicillin?

87. Do you keep a journal? Does my tumblr count?

88. What do your parents do? My dad works at Dollar General and my mom’s a USDA meat inspector.

89. Do you like your age? Yeah, it’s alright lol.

90. What makes you angry? People being cruel for no reason, people refusing to understand others.

91. Do you like your own name? Yes.

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? Yes!! For a girl, I like Alice, Ophelia, and Juliette, and for a boy I like Micah, Theo, and Hudson.

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? I would love to have a girl one day for sure ♡

94. What are you strengths? Compassionate, empathetic, and driven.

95. What are your weaknesses? Needy, indecisive, obsessive.

96. How did you get your name? My maternal grandmother picked the name out for me. She was dying of terminal cancer, and my mother wanted her to pick my name out.

97. Were your ancestors royalty? No

98. Do you have any scars? Already answered

99. Color of your bedspread? White with blue stripes!

100. Color of your room? Pink

[sunnyvaiprion]

Hi! I have a question (two actually) So how do you use Mr Dark Prince in battle? And is there a 4th mysterious member along your Julius/Reinhardt/Child!Azura team? (I love these interactions of them you draw btw~)

Oh, thanks!! 

About the team: yes! Since it’s a primarily AR team, there are two more! One of them is basically defaulted to Eir, but more often than not she stays as far away as she possibly can from any action (she has a nice heal though. Also she can throw Julius into enemies if he cant walk there fast himself). And second is a wildcard that varies from team to team (it was supposed to be a bonus unit, but it seems like Eir will stay for quite a long time), but my “main” now uses Bride Ninian for… no apparent reson besides being a dancer and me liking her. I will most likely change her for someone else/heavily alter her build because it’s actually pretty wacky with this team, but for now she stays (because she can fulfill her main purpose which is assisting trap removal in tight spaces). 

And now, About Julius: Ranged units can be a major pain. Sometimes (more like nearly always) you cant initiate on one and run without the rest of them scattering like dust particles if you blow on them all across the map with their dancers (especially now with Lazura), and to bait them you need someone who can take entire triangle and probably physical damage too, all at once. Use a dragon? Yes… a dragon.

Due to it being a somewhat lenghty text, I am putting it under the cut. 

If someone else thought about using him but was afraid that he isnt “a good unit” or “not favoured by meta” - I’d recommend you read into this too!

I have my Julius with Loptous, Reposition, Iceberg, Distant Defence, Guard, Attack Ploy, and another Distant Defence. which is - a wall. I place him in a space where he can be targeted by units I want (nearly any ranged, tbh. IF there’s a melee frontiline unit - Reinhardt has a message for them.) so he can kill them or hold them in place, and make sure my team can give him maximum amount of drives without putting anyone in danger. (oftenmost it’s just Azura and that’s it but still). 

Pros:

It’s VERY hard to kill him during EP. Even blue mages and bows/daggers with high attack struggle to deal non-zero damage to him, especially pre-dance. TA blue mage dancers included, as they usually dont break 50 attack mark by much.

No specials. Unless a special is pre-charged on turn 1 (or 2CD with Heavy/Flashing blade after dance), no luck trying to damage him with one either while guard is up and have fun offing it. Glimmer still deals a 0. Moonbow most likely a single digit.

He has high attack but without QR he will unlikely kill a unit coming at him on their first initiation (unless its low res green OR Reinhardt)…. which will waste a dancer’s turn to dance them instead of dancing some out-of-range thing you DONT want to attack, like a melee fast sword in that far-off corner.

On second initiation (if danced, alternatively someone else if the first unit died or didnt get a dance) that unit is guaranteed dead, though, because Iceberg hits like a truck especially with his already nice attack and STUPIDLY HIGH RES especially on EP. If they somehow survive this (Aversa with res wave on comes to mind) - its not a crazy PP unit so their damage is definitely a hard 0, so no biggie. Also works with a fast dazzle staff or if first enemy fails to double, since CD is 3.

With his res he can atk ploy virtually any unit of his choice, making the most dangerous unit to him (usually a physical or Ophelia) less dangerous at least pre-dance (when they have a chance to land more attacks).

His speed is actually not THAT bad. He usually doesnt mind getting doubled, but still. If you throw some speed buffs on him he can deny even some fast units their doubles. This might come in handy when fighting aforementioned units.

He is a lot easier to actually obtain and merge than similar units (Micaiah, Deirdre, Kliff maybe?) due to not being a 5-star locked or even limited unit. Unless you are a whale, and I dont judge, but for me it’s a big plus right there. Skills I have on him are also all widely available (I got DD off Garon).

Ranged anti-dragon weapons are all green (= normal blue for Julius, multiplier-wise). After Nagas got refines I actually started seeing them on defence maps. Guess what, still 0 damage. Daggers are trickier but a lot rarer and still manageable. They added an inheritable one just now but… why would anyone actually use it on heroes except it’s native user (who is also green) ?? Either way you wont see much of that.

See that Surtr? Julius will take care of him for you, too, with his high attack. In a single hit, if you pre-charge his Iceberg on something else. I know that almost any red mage can do it, but I heared some people still struggle. He can take a DC-hit from him too, if he runs one.

He can tank Ophelia, but be careful. For her he needs res buffs, especially the visible one, because of her initial AoE. Atk ploy her. If she can get an attack buff, It’d be great for you to have panic ploy too (right now there’s a lot of options, including Panic Manor). On a positive note, there should be plenty of mages on the same team as her, probably red and green, which wont really bother him afterwards.  

That’s Julius. We love our possessed lord.

Cons:    

While he takes little to no damage from any ranged source, Poison Strike-esque damage will get him good. Pain+ healers arent particulary dangerous because they cant deal any more damage to him no matter what, but units like firesweep bow double poison lyn are not very nice for him to face head-on (yes, I hate her in particular with burning passion), especially if she gets danced, receive a buff and attacks again, while there are other non-zero damage units in the back. But unlike a melee unit in the front line, it’s not always an option to snipe her (or any other unit like her) prior to Julius getting in range. This is, honestly, your worst nightmare. Be very careful with things like that and calculate damage dealt to make sure he wont die. … even though I think it’s not just his problem. But he doesnt easily solve it.  

He is reliant on team support to fight ranged physicals. Not going to lie about it. Def Tactic (or a wave if you’re into them) and 1-2 drive defs (ideally distant guard) should do, which is by no means too much investment, but it should be done.

His player phase leaves a lot to be desired. But like… what’s new? He’s enemy phase per advertisement. He still can Iceberg someone to the ground should he have it ready, or finish off someone previously mangled in EP, though.

He’s likely to deal more than 50% HP in one hit to PP heroes, especially ones that dump res or run LnD, which will activate wings of mercy, and a WoM melee unit can warp to his face and smack him. BUT usually dancers run WoM, and those have lower-end stats, so he should be okay at the very least. The only lancer dancer in the game is OG Azura, but …when was the last time I’ve seen her…  anyway, be careful with WoM.

He’s going to get Chill Res’d. He will get Chill Res’d every time every day of the week cause you wont find any ally with more res than him to “bait” chill res. It’s not like he will die from it though.

He’s infantry, so unfortunately, no easy fortify/wards for him. But if he was any other movtype - it’d bring it’s own problems, so… maybe it’s for the best. Also distant guard is a thing now.

He wants to stay above 80% hp and it’s very easy until he starts taking 5+ damage per hit. If it’s the case - you need to start paying attention to enemy specials again, especially longer CD ones.

Alternatives: While I am happy with how he does his job for now, I am planning make one adjustment, which is - give him Steady Stance 4. (once I get the fodder Surtr, which is not so soon). It will allow him to use his entire HP pool more effectively, and will give him extra survivability against physical threats, even if by a little bit. Additionally, it will protect him againt melee units too (like a WoM dancer teleporting to him) for safety measures and it will open up B slot! Losing 6 res (and 3 Iceberg damage) is not a big deal compared to all those benifits, ESPECIALLY since staying above 80% would be no longer needed.    

I .. dont really have a plan what to put in B slot then, because I intentionally want to avoid QR for a reason I explained above. But hey, I’ll figure something out when the time comes. However QR is also a viable option if you want him to kill everything in one go.

Iceberg is also, in theory, could be replaced by Glacies, if you want more damage. But I personally decided against it, because Iceberg’s cooldown is easier to manage and it’s damage is already enough in most cases. Also Iceberg is a lot better with QR should you want to use him for insta-kills.

And for the love of Loptyr himself, dont try to build him player phase or give him Fury. There are heroes with a lot better stat spreads for PP (yes, I’ve seen a PP Julius), and Fury is a fastest way to turn off Guard/QR and ruin his excellent ability to take zeros from most things. I tried it while I didnt have DD to fodder, and I didnt get much out of it. 

Now, he fits on virtually any map, but here are some examples of AR maps which he absolutely murdered.

I rely on my dragon! I’m very glad I decided to pick him up, even if he’s not that popular of a unit. 

[crystalelemental]

In just under 30 hours, it’s over.  This time, on Emerald Defeated.

This is my favorite run of Emerald.  Probably ever.  This is up there in favorite teams with the last time I played HeartGold.  It was that good.

Vivian the Blaziken!  She’s great.  I love Blaziken a lot, and picked up this run specifically for Blaziken.  Rash nature was great fun, Flamethrower with Charcoal just dominated so much.  That said, while I used her almost the entirety of early game, by late game she was a bit more...niche?  Like, part of that is just the ongoing three hours of nothing but Water, but at least she made a nice comeback in Sidney and Steven’s fights.  Didn’t so as much against Steven as I’d hoped, but apparently Metagross is just really fast.

Elaina the Gardevoir was the miracle child.  I always have to catch a Ralts, just to try for Gardevoir, and she set the game in motion.  Modest Nature.  I couldn’t pass that up.  This quickly became a run where I decided against playing to unused Pokemon and just going straight to favorites.  And by god, was Gardevoir incredible.  Bit of a rough start.  I avoided using her in Brawly’s gym because I am that ridiculous about EV training, and didn’t do that great against Wattson.  But once we hit Winona?  Calm Mind x2 into offense cleared so much.  Winona, Juan, Glacia, and even almost took down Wallace.  She was my intended solution to Cradily on Steven’s team as well.  Gardevoir did amazing this run, and I’m very proud.

The same can not be said of Hildegard, my Aggron.  Aron is...frankly insane mid-game.  When you start picking up good tools like Iron Tail, and have that strong Steel/Rock/Ground coverage, Aron...really does amazing.  Especially for all the physical hits getting thrown around.  It solo’d Norman.  That’s how well she did.  But kinda like Blaziken, the Water routes truck a lot of her utility.  There was a brief comeback against Tate and Liza, then...nothing.  She literally never saw battle in the E4, and her one attempt against Steven involved dying immediately to Metagross Earthquake.  Jolly had a lot of utility for outspeeding in that mid-game, but again, by endgame it just...didn’t do enough.  It’s sad, but she’s definitely the worst performer.

Which is surprising because Ophelia the Flygon would be considered right behind her.  This, however, was more my fault.  I didn’t really plan Flygon out well.  We got Naive as a nature, which was fantastic, and I attempted to used a strong mixed set.  But without specific EV training, the only move that ever accomplished its job was Earthquake.  Dragon Claw really wasn’t the best for damage, and I kinda regret giving up the paralysis chance on Dragonbreath.  Crunch became relevant only in the fight against Steven’s Claydol.  Fly would consistently miss despite 95 accuracy.  Flygon never hit the same pit as Aggron, but it never hit the same high points either.  She was more a glue; something nice to cover certain holes in the team, who did really well for that role, but wasn’t the KO machine that Gardevoir was, nor the amazing tank that Milotic was.

Sophia the Absol is my pick for absolute MVP.  Did she do as much as Gardevoir or Milotic?  Technically no.  Milotic likely deserves the MVP title more solely for how hard she salvaged Steven’s fight.  But Absol is, bar absolutely nothing, my favorite build for a Pokemon.  Calm Mind/Bite/Ice Beam/Thunderbolt.  This was something dreamt up by a lunatic, and it actually worked.  Part of that was taking time to actually EV train.  Sophia’s about as perfectly trained for speed and special attack as you can be, and it...really got the job done.  I still find it hilarious that the highest visible stat is still attack, but her entire role is a special sweeper.  And by god, what a sweeper.  Took Phoebe solo, finished Drake, and salvaged Wallace.  She didn’t get to really perform against Steven, sadly, but she was the backup answer to Cradily if Gardevoir couldn’t get the job done.  Sophia was just so much fun to see start working.  I was so uncertain of this build, but god she nailed it.

Finally, Calista the Milotic.  Actually, I did specifically EV train her.  Quiet nature, 120HP, 136 Sp Atk, 252 Def.  She was a fantastic physical tank, who could hit surprisingly hard with Surf too.  During the League, her primary role was failing to tank Drake.  Kingdra got a Body Slam paralysis and Dragon Dance, and she failed to get the Recover when it was needed.  It was a notably bad showing.  But she more than made up for it with the absolute domination of Steven.  Dunked on Aggron (when it finally missed it’s predicted Thunder), got a super lucky crit with Ice Beam against Cradily that took it down, tanked Metagross so hard it died, and outsped Armaldo and could 2HKO with Surf.  Calista was phenomenal in this fight.  The main sad aspect is that she didn’t see a ton of play outside of this.  As mentioned, the League was mostly her team, with her major fight being taken over by Sophia.  She participated in no gym battles, and wasn’t particularly exceptional in anything barring the takedown of Team Magma.  I still really loved using Milotic.  I don’t think I’ve ever gotten to use Milotic in a main game run before, due to how absurd it is to find one.  This was incredibly refreshing; it feels good to finally have gotten Milotic the legitimate way when my younger self never could.  And to pilot her to success was even better.

The run itself was fairly smooth.  Interestingly, the biggest hiccup was Wattson.  He was actually relatively challenging, and took three tries to beat.  I blame the speed on Manectric.  That said, Wattson also has something I think is critically important for the entire game: these people are really good at stopping setup.

I think in my head, I’m used to setup being really powerful against the main game, where everything is about offensive presence.  But a lot of this game knew its stuff, and was ready to intercept with things like Wattson’s Voltorb knowing Self Destruct, or Winona’s Swablu knowing Perish Song.  This continued up through Sidney’s Intimidate/Sand Attack Mightyena, Body Slam on Glacia’s Sealeo, and even Wallace’s Wailord having Water Spout, which is insanely strong if unhurt.  Even Steven’s team leading Skarmory with Toxic/Spikes is insanely punishing toward setup sweepers.  Given that I was running three different options for setup, this really stood out to me in the game’s design, and I kinda like it.  Hoenn’s pretty strategic, I didn’t give them enough credit for that.

The other thing I noticed was that...I feel like Hoenn’s kinda slow overall?  This might be a matter of me knowing the EV training spots, and Route 118 in particular tending to be a chosen training spot for finally having reasonable rates of fully evolved Pokemon, but I feel like we outsped a lot of threats.  Even my Quiet Milotic, who isn’t that fast and actively hindered her own speed, was able to outpace quite a few threats without issue.  Hoenn seems to function in bulk, and has some nasty surprises for setup sweepers, which is a cool approach.

I think this game also kinda revealed my problem with evasion/accuracy play a little more thoroughly.  Specifically, that things like Sand Attack and the like are meant to be answers to an opposing setup sweeper.  You can buff, but if you let me get the evasion buffs/accuracy debuffs, you run the risk of not hitting and just failing.  And that’s not an intrinsically terrible pick, but there are better methods that don’t involve also just frustrating every other style of play to no end.  I think Steven’s Toxic is a great example.  Okay, fine, you can buff, but now you’re on a timer.  This is way less severe than “If RNG is really mean, I am literally untouchable and am just going to dunk on your entire team.”  To that end, I’ve further decided I am at least more okay with accuracy debuffs like Sand Attack than evasion buffs like Double Team, because at least debuffs targeting one Pokemon are gone when they fail, and the new option isn’t fighting the same uphill battle.

And on that note, I’m going to gush about Steven’s team here.  I legitimately love this team.  Skarmory is such a good lead.  Deceptively fast, Aerial Ace is a good answer to Blaziken, Steel Wing honestly wore down Aggron, Toxic is devastating to setup sweepers, and then it has Spikes.  This asshole of a bird can throw up Spikes, cutting into your entire team’s HP over time.  This is such a surprisingly good lead set.  His Aggron’s a bit hit and miss.  I think Thunder is really funny for it, but Solarbeam is kinda meh.  I get that it’s for Ground-types, but that’s too long a charge time, man.  Cradily is probably my favorite on his team.  I did not expect this thing to give me so much trouble.  It’s stupid bulky, Giga Drain/Ingrain is insane recovery, Ancientpower is deceptively strong, the mixed offense makes it hard to set up on, and then it gets Confuse Ray, which is the fairer version of evasion boosting/accuracy debuffing.  Metagross is just deranged power, but honestly, shoutouts to Claydol.  Dual Screens doesn’t get enough respect, and Claydol actually does a really good job of setting both in a fight.  It was really tough having to play around them when Metagross came out.  Granted, because I ran Flygon, Claydol was...pretty easily ignored.  But the strategy behind its inclusion, and the fact I still had to play carefully to work around the easiest one to counter, speaks volumes about his team.I know I won with level 55-57 Pokemon, but frankly I attribute this win more to the luck of Calista’s crit Ice Beam breaking Cradily than anything.  It’s such a good team, I legitimately love this.

So, that’s it for Emerald.  I’m still kinda in a Pokemon mood, and may very well go back to my beloved Platinum.  That honestly just feels like the one I want to play.  But I...also kinda want to try and convince myself to play Sun and Moon.  I actually picked it up first, set it down because I wasn’t engaging all that well, and picked up Emerald instead.  I feel bad, but I...don’t think I’m really looking forward to Gen 7 at all, so I’ll probably continue to skip it.  So either it’s Platinum, or maybe White/Black.

[makerof150papermasks]

Hamlet Mariofied: Act 1 Scene 2

Bolded names refer to the Mario characters playing the roles. The character role names remain unchanged in the context of the play and its dialogue.

Mario = Hamlet

Luigi = Horatio

Yoshi = Marcellus

Captain Toad = Bernardo

Bowser = Claudius

Peach = Gertrude

Kamek = Kamek

Larry = Laertes

Wendy = Ophelia

King Boo = Voltimand 

Petey Piranha = Cornelius

Act 1, Scene 2

Elsinore. A room of state in the Castle.

[Enter Bowser, Peach, Mario, Kamek, Larry and his sister Wendy, King Boo, and Petey Piranha] Cue Castle/Fortress music for Super Mario World.

Bowser. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death

The memory be green, and that it us befitted

To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom

To be contracted in one brow of woe,

Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature

 That we with wisest sorrow think on him

Together with remembrance of ourselves.

Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,

Th' imperial jointress to this warlike state,

Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,

 With an auspicious, and a dropping eye,

With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage,

In equal scale weighing delight and dole,

Taken to wife; nor have we herein barr'd

Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone

 With this affair along. For all, our thanks.

Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,

Holding a weak supposal of our worth,

Or thinking by our late dear brother's death

Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,

 Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,

He hath not fail'd to pester us with message

Importing the surrender of those lands

Lost by his father, with all bands of law,

To our most valiant brother. So much for him.

 Now for ourself and for this time of meeting.

Thus much the business is: we have here writ

To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,

Who, impotent and bedrid, scarcely hears

Of this his nephew's purpose, to suppress

 His further gait herein, in that the levies,

The lists, and full proportions are all made

Out of his subject; and we here dispatch

You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,

For bearers of this greeting to old Norway,

  Giving to you no further personal power

To business with the King, more than the scope

Of these dilated articles allow. [Gives a paper.]

Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.

Petey Piranha. [with King Boo] In that, and all things, will we show our duty.

 Bowser. We doubt it nothing. Heartily farewell.

[Exeunt King Boo and Petey Piranha.]

And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?

You told us of some suit. What is't, Laertes?

You cannot speak of reason to the Dane

 And lose your voice. What wouldst thou beg, Laertes,

That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?

The head is not more native to the heart,

The hand more instrumental to the mouth,

Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.

 What wouldst thou have, Laertes?

Larry. My dread lord,

Your leave and favour to return to France;

From whence though willingly I came to Denmark

To show my duty in your coronation,

 Yet now I must confess, that duty done,

My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France

And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.

Bowser. Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?

Kamek. He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave

 By laboursome petition, and at last

Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent.

I do beseech you give him leave to go.

Bowser. Take thy fair hour, Laertes. Time be thine,

And thy best graces spend it at thy will!

 But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son-

Mario. [aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind!

Bowser. How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

Mario. Not so, my lord. I am too much i' th' sun.

Peach. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,

 And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.

Do not for ever with thy vailed lids

Seek for thy noble father in the dust.

Thou know'st 'tis common. All that lives must die,

Passing through nature to eternity.

 Mario. Ay, madam, it is common.

Peach. If it be,

Why seems it so particular with thee?

Mario. Seems, madam, Nay, it is. I know not 'seems.'

'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,

 Nor customary suits of solemn black,

Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath,

No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,

Nor the dejected havior of the visage,

Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief,

 'That can denote me truly. These indeed seem,

For they are actions that a man might play;

But I have that within which passeth show-

These but the trappings and the suits of woe.

Bowser. 'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,

 To give these mourning duties to your father;

But you must know, your father lost a father;

That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound

In filial obligation for some term

To do obsequious sorrow. But to persever

 In obstinate condolement is a course

Of impious stubbornness. 'Tis unmanly grief;

It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,

A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,

An understanding simple and unschool'd;

 For what we know must be, and is as common

As any the most vulgar thing to sense,

Why should we in our peevish opposition

Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven,

A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,

 To reason most absurd, whose common theme

Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,

From the first corse till he that died to-day,

'This must be so.' We pray you throw to earth

This unprevailing woe, and think of us

 As of a father; for let the world take note

You are the most immediate to our throne,

And with no less nobility of love

Than that which dearest father bears his son

Do I impart toward you. For your intent

 In going back to school in Wittenberg,

It is most retrograde to our desire;

And we beseech you, bend you to remain

Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye,

Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.

 Peach. Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet.

I pray thee stay with us, go not to Wittenberg.

Mario. I shall in all my best obey you, madam.

Bowser. Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply.

Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come.

 This gentle and unforc'd accord of Hamlet

Sits smiling to my heart; in grace whereof,

No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day

But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,

And the King's rouse the heaven shall bruit again,

 Respeaking earthly thunder. Come away.

Flourish. Exeunt all but Mario. Prompt Underground Music from Super Mario Land 2: Six Golden Coins

Mario. O that this too too solid flesh would melt,

Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!

Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd

 His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!

How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable

Seem to me all the uses of this world!

Fie on't! ah, fie! 'Tis an unweeded garden

That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature

 Possess it merely. That it should come to this!

But two months dead! Nay, not so much, not two.

So excellent a king, that was to this

Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother

That he might not beteem the winds of heaven

 Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!

Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him

As if increase of appetite had grown

By what it fed on; and yet, within a month-

Let me not think on't! Frailty, thy name is woman!-

 A little month, or ere those shoes were old

With which she followed my poor father's body

Like Niobe, all tears- why she, even she

(O God! a beast that wants discourse of reason

Would have mourn'd longer) married with my uncle;

  My father's brother, but no more like my father

Than I to Hercules. Within a month,

Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears

Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,

She married. O, most wicked speed, to post

 With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!

It is not, nor it cannot come to good.

But break my heart, for I must hold my tongue!

Enter Luigi, Yoshi, and Captain Toad. Cue Overworld Music from Super Mario Bros 2

Luigi. Hail to your lordship!

 Mario. I am glad to see you well.

Horatio!- or I do forget myself.

Luigi. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.

Mario. Sir, my good friend- I'll change that name with you.

And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?

 Marcellus?

Yoshi. My good lord!

Mario. I am very glad to see you.- [To Toad] Good even, sir.-

But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?

Luigi. A truant disposition, good my lord. 

Mario. I would not hear your enemy say so,

Nor shall you do my ear that violence

To make it truster of your own report

Against yourself. I know you are no truant.

But what is your affair in Elsinore?

We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.

Luigi. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.

Mario. I prithee do not mock me, fellow student.

I think it was to see my mother's wedding.

Luigi. Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon.

 Mario. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The funeral bak'd meats

Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.

Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven

Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!

My father- methinks I see my father.

Luigi. O, where, my lord?

Mario. In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Luigi. I saw him once. He was a goodly king.

Mario. He was a man, take him for all in all.

I shall not look upon his like again.

 Luigi. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

Mario. Saw? who?

Luigi. My lord, the King your father.

Mario. The King my father?

Luigi. Season your admiration for a while

 With an attent ear, till I may deliver

Upon the witness of these gentlemen,

This marvel to you.

Mario. For God's love let me hear!

Luigi. Two nights together had these gentlemen

(Marcellus and Bernardo) on their watch

In the dead vast and middle of the night

Been thus encount'red. A figure like your father,

Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe,

Appears before them and with solemn march

 Goes slow and stately by them. Thrice he walk'd

By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes,

Within his truncheon's length; whilst they distill'd

Almost to jelly with the act of fear,

Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me

 In dreadful secrecy impart they did,

And I with them the third night kept the watch;

Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time,

Form of the thing, each word made true and good,

The apparition comes. I knew your father.

 These hands are not more like.

Mario. But where was this?

Yoshi. My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd.

Mario. Did you not speak to it?

Luigi. My lord, I did;

 But answer made it none. Yet once methought

It lifted up it head and did address

Itself to motion, like as it would speak;

But even then the morning cock crew loud,

And at the sound it shrunk in haste away

 And vanish'd from our sight.

Mario. 'Tis very strange.

Luigi. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true;

And we did think it writ down in our duty

To let you know of it.

 Mario. Indeed, indeed, sirs. But this troubles me.

Hold you the watch to-night?

Yoshi. [with Toad] We do, my lord.

Mario. Arm'd, say you?

Yoshi. [with Captain Toad] Arm'd, my lord.

Mario. From top to toe?

Yoshi. [with Toad] My lord, from head to foot.

Mario. Then saw you not his face?

Luigi. O, yes, my lord! He wore his beaver up.

Mario. What, look'd he frowningly.

 Luigi. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

Mario. Pale or red?

Luigi. Nay, very pale.

Mario. And fix'd his eyes upon you?

Luigi. Most constantly.

 Mario. I would I had been there.

Luigi. It would have much amaz'd you.

Mario. Very like, very like. Stay'd it long?

Luigi. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.

Yoshi. [with Captain Toad] Longer, longer.

 Luigi. Not when I saw't.

Mario. His beard was grizzled- no?

Luigi. It was, as I have seen it in his life,

A sable silver'd.

Mario. I will watch to-night.

 Perchance 'twill walk again.

Luigi. I warr'nt it will.

Mario. If it assume my noble father's person,

I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape

And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,

 If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,

Let it be tenable in your silence still;

And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,

Give it an understanding but no tongue.

I will requite your loves. So, fare you well.

 Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,

I'll visit you.

All. Our duty to your honour.

Mario. Your loves, as mine to you. Farewell.

[Exeunt all but Mario.]

 My father's spirit- in arms? All is not well.

I doubt some foul play. Would the night were come!

Till then sit still, my soul. Foul deeds will rise,

Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.

Exit.

[avesagittarius]

lost mal-evolence // 2

WORD COUNT // 1725

summary ! The youngest of the Maximoff siblings had lived through heartbreak twice now. First her parents’ death and then her older siblings’ abandonment. She didn’t know what she’d done wrong, only that she searched for them for 3 years before HYDRA recruited her. She joined them when she learnt Pietro and Wanda had came here after leaving her. Now 6 years after their departure, she was in the process of becoming HYDRA’s best asset ever.

a/n ! sooo part 2, i was feeling inspired... hope you like it :))

warning ! okay so this isn’t really a warning but let’s pretend my baby Pietro is not dead in this series alright :)

GIMME FEEDBACK PLS :))))

part uno

________________________________________________________________

“You have to try HARDER” Madame HYDRA was now screaming at her. They had been training for five hours now, but Mal never backed down. She knew she had to control her power and if she had to train herself to exhaustion then she’d do it.

Katya Sarkissian, had succeeded her mother Ophelia and was now in charge of this operation. She was quite proud of her recruit, she’d accomplished so much since she had become a mutant. 

But the goal was to channel her protégé to the top. She could do great things now, she could do even greater if only she trained more.

“Come on Mal, make him do it !” Narrowing her eyes, the head of operations was getting frustrated with her trainee. “Stop.”

Mal’s posture immediately tensed, awaiting the worst. She hated not being able to do something, she hated disappointing Madame HYDRA. Because she knew her actions had consequences. 

She turned her 5′5 frame towards the imposing woman and kept her head high, not an ounce of fear radiating from her body. But deep down she could feel the dread coiling and tugging at her insides.

“What’s distracting you Mal ? You need to concentrate !” The anger in her tone made Mal shiver and want to lash out at her at the same time.

“Nothing, Madame. I have to try harder.” No emotions in her voice, she knew better than to show any vulnerability.

The sigh of frustration that followed her statement almost made Mal wince.

“Don’t lie to me Mal, why can’t you do it?” Miss Sarkassian was cold, she was going to get her to do what she wanted.

“It’s like I can hear the electricity of his nervous system” said the teen while nodding her head towards the man who had been standing there for a few hours now, “but I can’t seem to reach and interfere with it”

Mal’s hands were held in front of her as she has been instructed to do for six years now. When someone talked to her, they had to be able to see her hands, the most dangerous weapon in the facility.

Every person who worked here as HYDRA’s staff or scientist knew that with one touch of her hand they could be dead. 

Everyone but Mal. 

16 years old Mal Maximoff knew her powers were the result of an experiment that still haunted her at night. But she didn’t feel any remorse, she was proud to be special, to be someone who mattered for once. 

To be someone they needed. 

In fact, it’s the only thing that mattered for her. That for once in her life, those people weren’t going to let her go as easily as her parents or as her sister and brother did.

She didn’t really know who HYDRA were or what they needed her for, but to be honest she didn’t really care either. She had gained something from them.

Power and a strange sense of stability.

Mal was brought back to reality as the woman in front of her spoke once again. Calmer this time, but there was still an edge to it.

“Well we have to repair that. Try again” It was an order.

The young girl faced the man once more and concentrated. She could feel her own body thrilling and crackling with the electricity flowing through her veins.

She focused on the man and she could hear it, the millions of nerve signals running at incredible speed in his head. 

Madame HYDRA decided Mal was in need of a little motivation to achieve and complete her training session.

“You can do it, reach for it like you were reaching for your siblings when they left you, when they abandoned you” She smirked.

Mal reacted to that comment, her green eyes turning a glowing but gloomy purple. 

“Come on, don’t you want them to pay, for leaving you, for not caring about you. Once you control that man you control anyone, you control them Mal” 

The maleficent woman knew this kind of anger called her power to the surface. She had seen her achieve unimaginable things when annoyed with her past, with her siblings.

And she knew exactly what to say to get her to electrify herself as well as a whole city.

Mal knew deep down that Katya Sarkissian was only trying to get in her head, trying to anger her. But it worked.

Every. Single. Time.

She just couldn’t get past the fact that they had left her. 

So she growled while her features were morphing into one of intense concentration. A growing mist invaded the room, making the man cower a bit in fear, under the pressure of Mal’s dominating presence.

“If they had been there, they’d already have done it” That was the final straw. 

Mal was burning with anger, she had always been afraid of not being good enough. But she was done of that, she deserved more than being compared to her pathetic siblings.

She finally accessed his brain, hearing and feeling every part of his spine where nerve signals circulated as the man wanted nothing more than to get out of this place. 

Madame HYDRA’s words kept on repeating over and over again in her head, she had enough.

She wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. 

She intercepted the subconscious nerve signal which allowed the man to breathe without thinking about it.

She intercepted it and blocked it. Along with all the upcoming ones who were trying to seep through her barrier. 

She had to prove that she was worthy of this power flowing through her veins. She had to prove to the woman in the room she could trust her, that she could do it.

She wanted more than anything to prove to herself that she wasn’t afraid of death.

And so Madame HYDRA was left speechless and she saw the man clawing at his own throat and then fall limp head first on the floor.

His head cracking open with the impact.

Suddenly the mist vanished and Mal’s eyes returned back to their everyday color.

The head of operation couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of the corpse in front of her. She had expected Mal to react to her comments, to achieve the goal they had set for this session.

What she hadn’t expected was for her to be able to kill that soon. She had figured it would still take a few more months, maybe a year with good preparation and manipulation.

She clapped and went to hug an emotionless teen. 

“Congratulations my child ! You did it !” It looked almost as if she was going to start jumping and dancing around the room. It was a rather unusual sight for Mal to see Madame HYDRA that content.

“I am very proud of you, you will get a meal tonight !” She smiled at the young girl.

At this Mal lifted her clouded eyes, and smiled slightly. “Thank you Madame”

Mal never got more than a meal a day, so this meant her trainer was really happy with her.

But now that the anger had subsided, was Mal ever going to accept the fact that she had killed someone? Out of her anger for her family.

New York, Avengers Tower, a week after the first meeting.

“Sooo, anything new on Miss Thunderbolt ?” Sam chuckled when entering the lab where Tony, Steve and Bruce where currently searching for new informations on the girl that had fascinated more than one Avenger.

Tony looked up and pouted “I thought we had agreed on Mini Thor”  

“Nah, it’s too confusing” Sam winked and turned to Bruce who readjusted his glasses before speaking.

“Not since yesterday, I’ve tried countless times to run the facial recognition software on that picture but nothing comes out, it’s too pixelated”

Steve sighed and took a seat next to him.

“She doesn’t look very old, that’s what we know”

“How old ?” interrupted Clint who had just arrived.

“I don’t know, she doesn’t seem older than 20. Pretty sure she’s younger than the twins” 

Other than confirming that you were in fact part of HYDRA and that the Siberian facility had been in use for the past few years, only the underground part though. That’s why they hadn’t been aware of it. 

They weren’t coming up with enough informations to be flying out to Russia and bring down HYDRA.

Even though they knew everything about the location and Bucky had helped with the layout of the facility, they still couldn’t find the identity of the girl which was essential if they even wanted to try and free her of the hold the organization had on her.

“What about the leaders of her experiment ? Do we know anything about them ?” 

Ever since Clint had learnt that it was the evil organization behind the powers of the girl, he had tried to help. It felt like he just needed the confirmation that they were going to think this through and get a bit of rest.

Tony pointed his index towards him “That my friend, we can tell you more about”

He stood up “FRIDAY, files on the mean Lady please” 

He then proceeded to show them to everyone in the room, even though Bruce and Steve had already seen them. “That” he pointed to a tall and fierce looking woman in the picture “is Katya Sarkissian, head of operations at the Siberian facility, daughter of the infamous Ophelia Sarkissian”

“So she’s following in her mother’s footsteps” Sam was trying to piece it all together, the name seemed quite unfamiliar.

“Yes, well not exactly her mother, Viper, had an on-going narcotics business and was set on world domination, it seems our current Madame HYDRA inherited

the title but that’s it” Cap explained, a serious look in his eyes.

Tony nodded before continuing with the infos.

“We know she moved up the ranks pretty fast, having learnt quite a few things from her mother until now, where she is officially ‘researching on chemical and biological weapons for the Russian Army’. Those being human trials apparently.”

They all seemed to understand so he finished.

“We suppose she is the supervisor of the operation and she has multiple persons with advanced abilities under experiment including Mini Thor”

“Okay, that’s great” Clint was being sarcastic, he knew they had to bring this operation down before it took a nasty turn.                                                                                                                                               

part 3

[ao3porcelainstorm]

poison ivy & stinging nettles 17

On Ao3

Pairing: Sherlock/OFC

Rated: M

Warnings: eventual violence, torture, swears, adult themes (no explicit smut)

Chapter 16 - Chapter 18

Chapter 17- Rue

~~~

'Tis the damn season.

~~~

December 26th- 1 am

As it turned out, Hades was a woman. Or so she proclaimed herself over the DJs speak system to a screaming crowd. The music was turned back up, drunken party-goers mashed into one another on the massive dance floor.

StyX certainly lived up to its reputation of leading people to darkness.

Sherlock had bribed a bartender in a back alley on a smoke break to let them in. Fortunately, he was able to find John suitable clothes for the scene, his own jacket and shirt blending in with the well-dressed clientele.

“So Jessica owns this place?” John asked his friend, trying his best to avoid staring at the nearly naked dancer on a nearby platform. “Not what I expected for her.”

“Last time I saw her she was throwing herself all over Amelia,” Sherlock mused. “Granted, she was diligent in her work. Here’s hoping she got the binge drinking under control.”

He scanned the room, looking to the edges for where an administrative suite might be located.

“Don’t you two stick out like a couple of sore thumbs,” a female voice laughed behind the men.

“Miss Reynolds,” Sherlock turned with a smirk on his face.

“Long time no see, Mr. Holmes,” she gestured over her shoulder for the men to follow her to a secluded hallway. “Moriarty mentioned you would be stopping by.”

The music was non-existent by the time they stepped into Jessica’s office.

It was a neatly organized, modern space, with no trace of the lewd debauchery outside.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t realize he was going to be kidnapping your girlfriend,” she continued with a low sigh. “Have a seat.”

Two black seats were in front of her large glass desk. She turned and started to rummage through a filing cabinet before taking a seat in her chair.

“He left this,” she slid an envelope across the desk.

“What did you tell him?” Sherlock demanded, eyeing the envelope. “Why would he help you set all of this up from your father’s accounts?”

“He’s laundering money through the bar,” she explained so casually, it almost didn’t seem like she was referencing a very serious crime. “I have one of my security guards pass his guy a large duffel bag every other week, and he makes sure my shithead of a father stays out of the picture.”

“He’s dead then,” John stated and she shrugged.

“As I’m sure you’ve done a full inventory of my life, he isn’t the best person,” she replied truthfully.

“Why are you telling us this?” Sherlock examined the envelope in the light, checking for any stray hairs or fingerprints.

“Because, despite how it looks on paper, I’m not a bad person,” she answered earnestly, leaning back a little in her chair. “Neurotic? Definitely. A little unstable? My therapist thinks so. But I do have good intentions.”

“If you had good intentions, you wouldn’t have gotten in bed with Moriarty,” Sherlock scoffed, peeling back the edge of the envelope. “He’s a maniac.”

“He has good business acumen,” Jessica frowned. “I’m not thrilled about it, but I needed my father's money to finally get my own. If he’d been indicted, it would have been locked up in legal fees and government agencies for years.”

“A nightclub is getting your own?” John snorted.

“I hire homeless folks,” she explained, narrowing her gaze at him. “People coming back into work, retirees who need a little spare income, addicts looking for a second chance. I’m on track to donate a quarter of my profits to local domestic abuse programs. I’m not a monster.”

“God, you sound just like-,” Sherlock stopped when he pulled out the card inside.

Written in neat script was a small snippet of dialogue from Hamlet.

There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance. Pray you, love,

remember. And there is pansies, that’s for thoughts.

There’s fennel for you, and columbines. There’s rue for you,

and here’s some for me. We may call it herb of grace o’ Sundays.

O, you must wear your rue with a difference! There’s a daisy. I

would give you violets, but they wither’d all when my father

died. They say he made a good end.

“Ophelia,” Sherlock’s words were barely above a whisper, passing the paper to John.

“Wear your rue with a difference?” John looked at his friend. “Why is that underlined?”

“It’s the implication that I have different rue than the speaker,” Sherlock muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Rue for you and rue for me.”

“You can’t tell us anything about Moriarty’s whereabouts?” John demanded, waving the card toward Jessica.

“I can’t,” she replied softly. “He just told me that you’d be by after giving me the envelope. It was one of his security guys that mentioned Brenner.”

“We’ll be in touch,” Sherlock stood up abruptly, racing toward the door of the office, his mind moving at top speed.

Ophelia. What did he know about the character?

It inspired Amelia’s middle name, no coincidence there.  

Flowers. Intentional.

Ophelia went mad after Hamlet killed her father. She goes to the river and drowns.

But it isn’t intentional, or so it’s implied it isn’t.

She’s pulled into the river after falling in.  

But she doesn’t struggle and drowns in her misery.

There’s of course the medieval belief that Rue was a means of abortion.

No, Sherlock frowned. That was too barbaric for someone like Moriarty.

He’d pick his tortures carefully. Toying with his victims. He wanted to prove his genius. Show it off.

“Sherlock!” John caught up with the detective near the end of the block, grabbing his sleeve and shoving a phone in his friend's hand. “A body’s washed up. Molly’s meeting us in the morgue.”

~~~

Allison Nell, a 30-year-old real estate broker, avid swimmer. Newly engaged, but lost her fiancé during his deployment two weeks previously.

Suicide is the presumptive cause of death. Overdose of pills then wandered into the Thames.

“Why would you think otherwise?” Sherlock asked as Molly unzipped the body bag.

“Because of this,” she used a gloved hand to open a large incision in Allison’s stomach.

Pills.

Undigested pills.

Meaning they weren’t metabolized at the time of death.

“Toxicology shows a slight increase in the substance, but not a lethal dose. Or even a strong enough dose to render a woman of her size unconscious. It wasn’t the pills that killed her,” Molly explained, a small look of pity at the woman’s swollen, blue face.

“She drowned,” John lifted the police report and skimmed it over. “If she hadn’t passed out, why didn’t she swam to shore?”

Ophelia. A voice in the back of Sherlock’s mind whispered.

“Was she wearing winter garments?” he directed the question to Molly.

“A large wool coat, and heavy winter boots,” she confirmed with a nod.

“She was pulled down,” he decided. Against his better judgment, his gaze fell on the woman’s face. “With the shock of the cold water, she would have tired out, especially so with the extra weight pulling her down.”

All he could see was Amelia.

“She could have been trying to come back,” John realized, his expression set miserably. “Second guessed herself...”

“She likely fell into the river after trying to get help,” Sherlock pointed to the woman’s address. “Ran out of the house, and stumbled along an embankment, and slipped in.”

The trio stood in silence, considering the sad fate of the woman in front of them.

His phone chirped with a text message from an unknown number.

As one incapable of her own distress,

Or like a creature native and indued

Unto that element; but long it could not be

Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,

Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay

To muddy death

~~~

“He wanted you to figure out how that woman died,” John was summarizing when they returned to Baker Street near dawn. “To tie it with the clue from Jessica... why am I getting deja vu? Is he going to lead us on another round of crimes to solve?”

Sherlock tossed his coat on the hanger by the door, stewing over the text while the men made their way up the stairs to the flat.

“I just don’t know what he’s trying to prove,” John huffed from behind. “You’ve done this before. What’s the difference?”

Sherlock stopped short at the landing, gaping into the main living room of 221B Baker Street.

Photographs of Amelia were taped all over the room, plastering the walls and bookcases with candid images that seemed to range in date from her first few weeks in London to the day she was taken.

“That’s the difference, John,” Sherlock breathed, trying his best to steady his heart rate. “He wants to prove that sentiment is a detriment.”

“He’s trying to use her to distract you,” John translated. “He’s waiting for you to slip up, but what does that mean for Mia?”

Before Sherlock could reply, both their phones indicated new messages.

A video message, followed by a second text: “Happy Christmas.”

Amelia, looking fiercely defiant was slamming her hands against a metal wall, screaming a song out of tune. She was still wearing the jeans and oversized red sweater from Christmas Eve. Her blue coat was discarded on the floor.

There was no furniture or windows, so far as Sherlock could tell from the video.

“Country roads, take me home to the place I belong,” she screeched. “West Virginia, mountain mama take me home, country roads!”

There was a significant amount of background noise and the flicker of an unseen screen outside the view of the camera. She continued her rebellious shriek, clearly trying to be louder than whatever else she was exposed to.

The clip cut off from there.

“Alive,” John whispered first, his shoulders deflating just a little. "She's alive."

It certainly was a bit of good news in an otherwise depressing evening.

~~~

January 3rd

Nothing.

Sherlock rewatched the video religiously.

He’d left the photographs on the wall, walking through the room over and over, hoping for any indication of a clue.

Nothing.

John made sure he ate. Mycroft had called once, only to confirm that they had no leads either.

Even Jessica Reynolds texted him to inform him that Moriarty’s men hadn’t made their scheduled pick-up.

Lydia Brenner was almost hysteric when she called from a secured government line. She begged him to find her daughter, knowing full well what Amelia’s fate was otherwise.

~~~

January 6th

13 days.

He received another video message.

It had no sound and was short, a five-second clip of Amelia slumped over in a metal chair.

Same room.

New clothes.

He threw his phone across the room with a shout, nearly decapitating John in the process.

~~~

January 11th

A single red rose was sitting on the fireplace mantle after Sherlock and John returned from a crime scene.

When the detective stepped forward, he must have hit a tripwire because the television flipped on a scene from Disney’s Sleeping Beauty.

“I know you I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you’ll do-,” and the scene repeated.

Over and over as Sherlock studied the simple flower.

“Briar rose!” John guessed, looking to his friend with a satisfied nod. “That’s the princess in the movie and the story. She gets locked up by the evil witch and rose thorns overgrow the grounds to stop people from saving her. She had to have true love’s kiss to wake up.”

"Why do you know this?” Sherlock quirked a brow, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

“I have a sister,” John shot back, growing defensive. “She was quite fond of the movie growing up.”

~~~

January 12th

Briar Rose Gardens is where they found the next clue, as well as a dead body, frozen on the ground from the cold winter air.

And here I prophesy: this brawl to-day,

Grown to this faction in the Temple-garden,

Shall send between the red rose and the white

A thousand souls to death and deadly night.

King Henry the Sixth. More Shakespeare.

More flowers.

At this point, Sherlock knew he was playing by Moriarty’s hand, whatever that may be.

At least, however, he was familiar enough with the Temple Gardens, practically dragging John along to their next destination.

“Rose plant… rose plant…” Sherlock was frantically searching the dormant gardens for the horned plants.

“Sherlock,” John held up a small envelope, a large rose plant next to him.

It was an invitation; a date and an address.

Chapter 18