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zerot0hero · 4 years ago

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ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE & WAR - POST FLOATING LANTERN GALA SELF PARA (MAY 2020)

tw: heart break, betrayal, self pity, revenge(?),

It was already dark when Hercules left the Gala, he descended down the stone steps with his hands in his pockets to the curving line of parked cabs waiting to pick up fares. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone, he could have turned back and found Oliver amid the crowd to confide in but that meant risking seeing Megara-- and she was the one person he really couldn’t bring himself to talk to right now. He stood at the bottom of the entrance, turning back around to face it, wondering if leaving had been the right choice? He could have stayed and danced with Pascal, had idle chit chat and a drink with Kit, made sure Oliver didn’t bring himself to any harm or actually had the chance to wish the Princess a Happy Birthday… but his heart was no longer in it.

With a disappointing sigh he turned back around and began to make his way to the end of the property, unkownling missing the beautiful sight of lanterns rising in the sky behind him. Had he stayed it might have been a sign of hope, but now in the chilled air and soft breeze he continued to walk towards Downtown Elias. Every store was closed, every street he passed was almost empty apart from a few bars where people stood outside smoking, there were very little cars on the road so as he passed each streetlamp alone on the way to his apartment he tried to count them. Hercules would have done anything to distract himself of thinking about Megara, about how beautiful she looked in her purple dress, about how she blushed when he placed the corsage on her wrist, about how close she was to him when they slow danced and about how he wished that moment could have last forever.

Much to his dismay the magical evening came to a disturbing end when Megara confessed the truth to Hercules, that she was working for his Uncle Hades, the guardian of the Underworld. As Megara spilled the painful truth everything began to make sense to him, being stolen from Mount Olympus as a baby and stripped of his God Title, Megara taking a keen interest in Herc and his life, Hades being extra quiet. He did not have to raise a finger when he was making Herc’s dear Megara do all the dirty work. Hercules was angry, furious even, more livid than he had ever been in his entire life. He felt anger, betrayal, hurt and disappointment all at once, however it was his own fault for disregarding his training and letting himself become distracted by a modern day Siren, luring him to his death by deranged Uncle.

Philoctetes had tried to warn Hercules in the past about the effects of beautiful women on a man's brain but he had waved them off with little concern. Hercules had never had any luck with women until Megara and that was only because she literally did not have a choice but to flirt with him. As grateful as Hercules was for her warning about Hades trying to kill him he could not work out if that was part of the plan? Was he supposed to know this, or did Megara really risk her own soul for him? He wanted to believe there was goodness in her heart, that she was really only doing Hades bidding against her will… but then Herc had to remember Hades did not take her soul for nothing, Megara had willingly trusted him for a favor. And could a person who trusted someone like him, a monster who kidnaps and tries to assassinate innocent children, be a person worth trusting at all? His heart and head were being torn apart.

As Hercules reached his apartment he beelined for the small kitchen decorated in white marble and black appliances. Opening the liquor cabinet he reached for a short glass and the bottle of Ouzo, a heavy and dangerous drink if you have too much, Greek liquor. He placed them both on the counter and began to pour a large measure into the glass, he unbuttoned the top of his shirt and dropped his jacket over a dining chair as he walked with his glass to the living room. Slumping onto the couch in the darkness Hercules could see the faint glow of the stars in the sky-- not stars, lanterns. Some of them must have been let off late, he wondered if Megara took part, his friends, what they had hoped for-- and realised his own wish would have been incredibly selfish.

Hercules wanted Megara to love him. He wanted unconditional love, the promise of a future, vacations to cancun, spending too much money on chocolate on St. Valentine’s day. He wanted the lazy sunday lie-ins, brunch by the seafront, to carry all of her bags when she went shopping. He wanted bad movie dates, to get soaked in the rain with her and give her his jacket, to order an extra set of fries at dinner in case she changed her mind and tried to eat his. He wanted the movie trope romance, all the good and all the bad because Hercules wanted so badly to be loved by Megara the way he was beginning to fall in love with her. He shut his eyes and pictured her standing alone on the dance floor with tears in her eyes, now he felt like the monster for leaving her there.

“Oh Megara-- you are my weakness…” he sighed to himself, swirling the liquid around his glass. He was conflicted, on one side Hercules wanted nothing to do with her anymore. To rip off the bandaid and cut all ties… but on the other side he knew he could not let her be bound to Hades for the rest of her life. No matter what her part was in his Uncle’s plan being held by your will was an extortionate price to pay for asking a God for a favor. He couldn’t walk away from the situation knowing that harm could come to his dear, dear, Megara. If nothing else she deserved a clean slate, even if that meant their flirtationship would never evolve to anything more. Even if it meant she would run away to Tasmania and he would never see her again, helping her was the only option he had.

Hercules downed the liquor with a quick flick of his wrist and hissed as the alcohol ran down his throat, leaving behind a burning sensation. He had no time to wallow in his own emotions and self-pity, if his Uncle was truly coming for him and if he wanted to save Megara from the fate he barely escaped as a child he needed to act fast. Prepare, train, find allies, create an impenetrable plan that would stop his Uncle once and for all-- and most importantly ensure Megara would be safe and sound. He stood up, grasping at the wall for balance and wobbled his way towards the desk at the end of his room, reaching for a pad of paper and a pen he began to write exactly how he was feeling before he forgot.

When he was finished he folded up the letter and placed it in a small white envelope to deliver it the next morning. He kicked off his shoes and closed the blinds in his bedroom seeing the sky begin to change from a light purple to a bright orange in the distance indicating dawn-- how long had been up? He flopped onto the bed still in his shirt, socks and trousers and begged for sleep. Just a few hours left of normality before he would get up and start his new mission: Destroy Hades.

Dear Megara,

Aplogises for not contacting you sooner I wanted to text you but the temptation to call you was too great… and I didn’t think that would be wise for me to do at this time.

I wanted to apologise for ditching you at the gala. It was wrong of me to act so rash and leave you there. I was in shock. Finding out my uncle wants to harm me was a hard pillow to swallow but finding out you have working with him was what really stung. I understand the nature of your agreement and I apologise for how he chooses to make his demands – I promise not all gods are as cruel.

What I really wanted to confess to you is perhaps why I reacted the way I did. You see Megara… I was falling for you hard, fast and stupid. I would have done anything you asked me to, which in hindsight is probably better that you know this now rather than earlier. This is why I felt so betrayed and why I was so hurt. I guess what I am trying to say is that I think I was in love with you – and I foolishly thought you might have been in love with me too.

I will keep my word and try to save your soul from Hades, you deserve better than to be treated like a pawn in a game between Gods. Please understand why I cant see you anymore.

I am sorry that it has to be this way. I hope that I can retrieve what is rightfully yours so you have the power to make your own choices once again. Hold onto that hope if you find it difficult.

Thank you for the light you brought into my world . I will miss your smile.

All my best,

Hercules.

#self para #tw self pity #tw revenge #tw betrayal #tw heartbreak #u know once bre starts making me feel things i have to write it aLL DOWN #also this was meant to be months ago.....!!! oop!!#anyway Herc is doing better now dw guys hes still a little heartbroken but hes recovering like a God #which roughly translates to GYM GYM GYM

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wddingcrshers · 4 years ago

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𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐀𝐘 》 self para

tw: death, murder

he said “i’ll love you till i die”, she told him “you’ll forget in time” he stopped loving her today they placed a wreath upon his door and soon they’ll carry him away he stopped loving her today.

on her first day of kindergarten, a 5 year old mardra thompson cried for her father not to leave for work. she spent the day pouting with her arms crossed, refusing to participate in any activities -–– not even naptime.

on her first day of first grade, mardra debuted a hairstyle entirely influenced by clover from totally spies. unfortunately, it was not as popular as she predicted and she spent the subsequent few months impatiently waiting for her hair to grow out.

on her third day of second grade, a new kid walked up to mardra during recess and started telling her what shapes he thought the clouds above them were. she looked up and saw a swan, then he laughed and told her it was clearly a sailboat. the pair ate lunch together and went home to tell their families that they made a new friend.

on her twentieth day of third grade, joshua gave mardra a bouquet of wildflowers picked on his walk to school. he said they reminded him of her.

on her seventh day of fourth grade, mardra sat down excitedly at lunch with her scholastic book fair pamphlet and started leafing through it, circling her favorite things in neon green gel pen. her mom gave her a set for her last birthday and most of the pens had run out of ink by september, so she was left with only neon colors to use.

on her second day of fifth grade, after a summer camping trip with her family, mardra was covered in mosquito bites and incessantly itched until her best friend brought her to the nurse to get anti-itch gel. she stayed inside with him during recess because he got in trouble for playing webkinz when they were supposed to play a math video game. the two of them made fortune tellers that told them they would get married, and both laughed for five minutes afterwards.

on her fifth day of sixth grade, joshua forgot his locker combination, so mardra let him put his supplies in hers. when he finally got a new lock, he still left a few books and would always slip her notes.

on her thirty second day of seventh grade, the eighth graders announced over the loud speaker that there would be a school dance in a month. mardra’s best friend asked if she would go with him, and joshua asked his father how to tell a girl he like-liked her.

on her one hundredth day of eighth grade, mardra’s school had a one hundred day parade and she held joshua’s hand the entire time.

on her eightieth day of her freshman year, mardra sat outside joshua’s cross country practice while doing her biology homework, waiting for him to exit the showers before they went to see a movie.

on her one hundred and seventeenth day of her sophomore year, mardra pulled her friend brianna aside in the hallway to tell her that she and joshua had made love the saturday before.

on her fourty third day of her junior year, joshua told mardra that he was getting a job at a gas station so he could afford to buy her something special.

on her first day of her senior year, mardra spencer walked into class with a ring on her left finger, smiling at her new husband. in june, she adorned a white dress and walked down the aisle of a local church, surrounded by white carnations and dahlias. there was no one who made her happier than joshua, he genuinely understood her. of course, their relationship wasn’t without friction, but they had learned how to give each other their lives without letting them overtake each other. being with him was like everything she’d ever lost coming back to her. they didn’t have enough money to live alone, nor would their parents let them, but at least her parents had renovated the garage so the pair could live together. everything felt aligned, the world was bright and the newlyweds were happy.

after saving every paycheck, pooled graduation money, and a bank loan, the spencers moved into a modest starter home and started classes at a local state college. they were happy. they were starting their lives together, and joshua had been promoted to night manager at the gas station. it had only been a few months of his new job when there was a knock on the door in the middle of the afternoon. mardra had just gotten home from class and she immediately sprinted toward the door upon seeing a police car in the driveway.

almost cinematically, the world stood still and everything was silent, even the officer’s voice, but mardra knew what he was saying. joshua hadn’t come home the night before, and something deep inside her said something was wrong. it wasn’t just out of character, it was something in the air, something in her stomach that turned over and over. she couldn’t sleep, her phone was glued to her hand, she laid out clothes if he came home in a rush before class. she felt as if there was a bullet lodged in her chest, she simply stumbled back, shaking her head at the concerned officer in front of her.

it wasn’t until her mother arrived that mardra moved from the front step. sunlight had burned her shoulders but she couldn’t even feel it, she couldn’t feel anything. her heart hadn’t been broken, it had been ripped from her chest.

two days later, the house was in disarray and there was another knock on the spencers’ door; a detective who told mardra that there were suspicious circumstances, that they believed joshua was murdered. from that moment on, the rest of the world ceased to matter. there was no laughter, no sunday mornings, no malice. all there was, was grief. her sadness was green, always fresh and always full, dressed in her wedding gown. it’s always there, it will forever be a part of her. the green sadness seeped into her being from the first handshake at joshua’s funeral. she was blanketed in despondence and silence. death hung over her, reminding her that he took away her world the first chance he got.

#masters.points #𝓂𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓇𝒶 》 i think i’m okay ❞ PARAGRAPHS #tw death #death tw #murder tw #tw murder #the name is from a country song cause those are always sad kjsnkjsnjks

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orderofhunter · 5 years ago

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Seblaine and Hunter- You Know The Penalty If You Fail/Feb 4, 2020

Para: You Know The Penalty If You Fail

Rating: PG.

Pairing: Seblaine @smythesm, @andersoncharm and Hunter Clarington. @orderofhunter

When: Tuesday, February 4, 2020

Location: Seb’s Apartment.

Notes: Hunter brings warnings that maybe Blaine ought to be more careful when using magic with Sebastian.

Warnings: Things are changing. Features a bittersweet ending.

Hunter:

It was normal for Hunter to get called in for emergencies at The Headquarters. He had proven himself to be efficient and thorough in his research and on his hunts and was being set up to follow in his father’s footsteps to lead The Order. Hunter had traveled the world, hunting rogue witches who sacrificed children deep in forests, researching the various creatures that wicked witches morphed into, and making sure the correct affiliates came through if it wasn’t a witch or a cryptid (Aliens=FBI and Ghosts= fucking Zachary BAGELBITES...yuck. Fucking Ghosts were drama.)

So, it wasn’t shocking when Hunter was sent in to figure out the truth behind Facebook posts about phantom footsteps in an empty apartment in Arkansas or snap chat videos of flying women jumping through trees in England. The invention of Twitter and Facebook and hoax videos on YouTube was a turbulent time for The Order. Hunter could hardly remember, as he was so young when the internet became a major problem for them but, his parents had to work overtime tracking down the creators of videos featuring little goblins and objects being thrown around rooms, only to hit dead ends filled with bored college kids and middle aged dudes looking for attention. Sometimes, though, the videos or posts would lead to rogue witches or possessions or abductions. The Order had created a department to keep track of the goings on of social media and kept connections with the appropriate affiliates to keep all things supernatural, well, in order. This department had decided that it was best to send the younger hunters in, seeing as they knew the world of the internet best, and who better than actual troll Hunter Clarington? He had a knack for figuring out hoaxes faster than anybody else at the order, and could distinguish whether a house was haunted or inhabited by a crone cooking up cancerous spells in no time.

So, on this random day when we was brought in for a tweet that was gaining speed online, he was expecting the usual. Go in to some random location, do some research, extinguish the problem or call in another expert and wash his hands of it, file a report, go home. When he sat down with the head of the social media department, and was shown the tweets, his stomach turned. It was Paris. It was a blurry photo of the Eiffel Tower, a figure (Or figures?) perched at the top. The tweet, in French, questioned if it was a ghost and it was picking up speed online. Hunter could see that it was posted at 3AM on Christmas morning.

Hunter kept his eyes trained on the big screen behind his superiors head, the photo blown up and accentuated. He could see two figures clinging together. He swallowed thickly but kept his eyes trained ahead of him, willed his heart to chill out and his pulse not to quicken (he was trained to do this after all). Sebastian had told him that Blaine had ‘popped’ in and visited him in the early hours of Christmas Morning. He had also told him that his lovely boyfriend took him to the top of the famous monument around 3. Hunter couldn’t let anybody see him sweat or let on that he might already know something. He accepted the mission and was given his plane tickets for that very night. He had to travel with the normies in order to blend and usually his skin would itch for use of the private jet but he was too stressed out to worry about being flashy and frivolous. Hunter just wanted to get there and get this done.

Hunter requested that Tony come with for training purposes, the request was approved, and the two of them were off to Paris that evening. It was all business on this trip. He explained that he thought Blaine was the very witch in the post and Tony understood the seriousness of the implication.

“It’s an old city, Hunter. If we find out that it was Blaine and not a Matagot, which it could be...we can pin it on a ghost.”

Hunter made a mental note to remind Tony that Matagot’s were native to Southern France but he didn’t want to ruin the moment, so he nodded and clenched his jaw. Because she was still right, of course, but he had never botched an expedition before. He’d never had a reason to. Hunter couldn’t let Sebastian or Blaine get hurt. Tony understood that and that’s exactly what they did. All of the evidence pointed to witches hanging out on top of the Eiffel tower. Hunter could scream. It was them, there was no way it wasn’t. Tony helped him pin it on a haunting she had found in the area surrounding the Eiffel Tower and Hunter made the original poster delete the tweet with a check and a flash of his sharp jawline.

Hunter took a day to decompress before he went into The Headquarters and explained it all away. He explained that he had handed the case over and had the posts scrubbed from the internet (even got a hold of the pesky podcast that had covered it and requested the episode play elevator music over that specific part). He texted Sebastian and told him the three of them were going to talk, there was no playing around with this shit.

He knocked once on Sebastian’s front door before letting himself in. Of course, Blaine was already there and the two of them were sitting closely on the couch, clutching hands.

“Yeah, you should be fucking nervous,” Hunter thought to himself. He took a deep breath and walked around to stand in front of the two men.

“ I guess I should start off by saying that it’s all figured out. It’s covered up. You both owe Tony a huge thank you. She pinned it on a local haunting.” Hunter ran a hand through his hair before resting his hands on his hips. Sebastian was staring at the floor and Blaine’s eyes were the size of moons, he was squeezing the other man’s hand so hard it was turning red.

“Jesus Bas, you could look at me. You’re not in trouble. I just need you guys to know how serious this is. God, don’t make me feel like I’m your fucking dad.” He crouched down in front of them, resting gently on the coffee table. “I just can’t have this happen again, okay? Blaine, you know what they’d do to him. You know they’d have your head and they’d send me to get it.”

Sebastian:

Blaine and Sebastian were stressed and Seb was doing anything and everything to try and alleviate the heavy feeling sitting on their shoulders. He had played Broadway music in the car,tried cooking a couple of times, cleaned up the dishes when he gave up and B would whip up an amazing meal, watched Ever After multiple times and cuddled on the couch and watched Captain America and let Ras go to LeFey and took Blaine to a damn Super Bowl party.

It was at the Snowed In and Blaine had nonchalantly mentioned that maybe they could stop by. “We can go. You should watch the game. I know you don’t care about these teams but, it might be nice to be out around people.” Sebastian couldn’t believe he said that last phrase, ew. He didn’t really care about football but he cared about snacks and JLo and his boyfriend.

There were wings and cheese dip and beer and Blaine got a little macho and bro’d out over a bad play here and there and Sebastian liked what he saw. He was a little tipsy and liked the swell of Blaine’s biceps as he clutched his beer, his other hand extended towards the big screen over a fumble or some shit. They laughed and danced together towards the back of the room when Jlo and Shakira came on. What was better than cheap beer and terrible food and beautiful pop divas? Sebastian hadn’t felt this free from thought in a few days and he could tell B felt better, too. The two of them stumbled to their Lyft and fell asleep giggling with full bellies and tired bodies.

Seb played the scene of them doing a lazy tango together surrounded by Chiefs and 49ers jerseys in the crowded cafe. He tried to focus on positive things because Hunter would be there any minute and who knew what new information that would bring. Blaine held on tightly to his hand and he squeezed back, the two of them sitting silently with Ras sleeping on the bed, a calming spell from Blaine so that the pup wouldn’t fret.

Hunter came into the room and started ranting immediately. Sebastian felt like a teenager again, felt like his dad had sat him down to yell about his Lacrosse plays or his sneaking out. It triggered something inside of his brain, the shame of letting somebody down along with the acidic burn to want to yell back. But, what was there to say? They had tried so hard and still fucked up. They were in the wrong and Hunter was right. He felt like puking when he said that he could be harmed, what would they do to him? To B?

“We’re sorry.” was all he could manage. Seb squeezed Blaine’s hand again and braved a look at his face. He could tell that B was close to tears. He knew that the other man had been dreading this day.

Blaine:

Blaine had spent the last five days living his life on the cliffs edge. One second he’s fine, he’s dealing and coping with the fact that they’d more than likely been seen, and the next he’s panicking and on the verge of closing himself off and hiding in his turtle shell terrified to come out. Sebastian had been amazing throughout all of his anxieties. Let him watch his favorite movies, let him blush a little over Steve Rogers, let him take Ras to visit LeFay when Blaine couldn’t mope around Sebastian’s apartment to keep him a little calmer, Ras always had that effect on him. Kissed him sweetly when Blaine got lost in his own head. Seb had even taken him to a Super Bowl party on Sunday. And while Blaine may not have been invested in the teams playing (He much preferred college football) he still had a pretty good time and even got fired up about a shoddy play or two. He tried to keep the memory of Sebastian pulling him so close around the waist with one arm and the other waving a chicken wing around while tipsily dancing and singing along with JLo in his head as he waited for Hunter to show up.

He knew that someone out there had probably seen them and then posted something about it on some sort of social media platform. The thought irked him and made his stomach flip so hard. It’s not that Blaine didn’t pay attention to all of that, it’s just that social media had never really been his forte, sure, he posted things here or there, but his pages all had to be glamoured anyway and he only really cared to check on on very few people. Besides, hunting was the job of the Hunters. Sitting tight, keeping your head down and staying hidden, never helping anyone was a Witch’s job. Or so he’d been taught and it was all exhausting. He hardly managed to pay attention to what he was taught in his former classes and now in his “Graduate classes” with his father. He’d never wanted any of this in the first place. He didn’t want to be headmaster of LeFay, he didn’t want to hide away in that oppressive school. He’d always just wanted to do what his mother did or something similar. Heal people whether with small bits of magic or music. To voice it out loud to his father got him the same answer- Your mother had to do the same thing you’re doing in order to do what she did. And look what happened when she helped the wrong person.- Tony was not the wrong person, she was wonderful. But, it was neither here nor there to tell his father anything.

And his people had betrayed him anyway. Here he was spending every waking hour keeping the the one thing that made him more happy than anything else in the world a damn secret. And he was never ever allowed to share it. He couldn’t even allow himself to think of anything more than a few weeks in advance because what the hell was he going to do in a year or two when they sent him away to England to learn even more? Leave Sebastian behind? Run away? He swallowed hard thinking about it, willing himself not to fucking fall apart and gave Sebastian’s hand another squeeze just to show that his boyfriend was real and sitting here with him. Which should have made him feel better but just reminded him how fucking bad he’d fucked up by not thinking more clearly when he took Seb to the Eiffel Tower and got wrapped up in the perfect moment. How could he spend so much time carefully glamouring every other part of his life but forget about it when it mattered the most? He blinked back a wash of angry tears and took a steadying breath. Anger because why didn’t they deserve perfect moments like everyone else? Why couldn’t they just be in love? And tears because he fucking knew better.

He was so lucky to have people like Tony and Hunter in his life. Thankful that they gave a fuck about him and especially about Seb. He knew this was just a warning and that he needed to think clearer and be even more careful. He knew it was going to be okay. For now at least. His father seemed to know nothing about it which meant that everything was more or less fine. If they were actually found out Willem ‘Will’ Anderson would be one of the first to know, he’d be the one of the ones that would have to write up a report and send for a member of the order to bring the witch in question in. None of that had happened though, thankfully.

His eyes flickered wide and bright up to Hunter as the other man let himself in looking like he’d stepped out of a Versace ad, jawline sharp enough to cut, hair perfectly in place, grey suit tailored just so. Impeccable and smarmy even though he’d been traveling on a plane. He watched as Hunter made his way over and crouched down in front of them like someones very stylish dad giving his son a talk about why we don’t have boys in our rooms alone at night. Blaine bit the inside of his cheek, as he listened. Nodding miserably about how he owed Tony. His fingers tight in Seb’s. He knew all of this. He’d been kicking his own ass about it for five days now.

He finally let his eyes settle on Hunter’s, silently asking him not to delve too far into what they might do to him or Sebastian because he knew. He knew damn well that he’d either be taken away and locked up so he’d never see Seb again or that they’d have him on a pyre and use his magical ashed bones as a cautionary tale. He knew they’d steal away Seb’s best memories of him and because they were Fated, soul mates by magical design that it might not work and it might send his very human boyfriend, his reason to smile into madness. Sebastian didn’t need to hear all of that right now. He knew just about enough as it was. Sebastian’s little voice the we’re sorry shook him out of his thoughts and prompted him to speak.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Seb.” He loosened his grip in favor of linking their fingers together and turned to his boyfriend, his voice thick. “It’s my fault and I’m the one that’s sorry. I’m sorry to you for putting you at risk. I was so caught up in our moment that I didn’t- I couldn't think about anything else.” He turned his gaze to Hunter and shook his head. “I’m sorry that you and Tony had to go through all of this- trouble just because of my negligence.” He bit his lip and swallowed. “What can I do to fix this? And don’t you tell me nothing because I know I messed up. And I know that I need to do something, anything to make it up to you. To make you understand that I would never, consciously, put Seb in danger. This- This wasn’t meant to happen and gods, I’m sorry.” His voice cracked slightly on that last note prompting a whine from a very magically quiet Ras in the bedroom and a rub against his knee from a Freya that seemed to appear out of nowhere. A Freya that had jumped up onto the table and was fixing Hunter with a clear look of hey he gets it. Not threatening per se, more trust me he’s beating himself up enough.

Hunter:

Hunter knew that Sebastian and Blaine were stressed and upset. The trained side of his brain, the one that executed missions and studied until his eyes crossed, knew that they needed to feel this way. That they needed to realize the weight of their actions, let the seriousness of the situation seep into their skin. The other side of his brain, the side that was Sebastian’s best friend, wanted to wipe the slate clean and hug his friends and assure them he would always protect them. Because he would, what would life be like without Bas’s scowl whenever Hunter made a bad joke? Without his long legs and love for dogs? Without Blaine’s snacks and his open arms for Tony?

Hunter recognized the look on Blaine’s face. He didn’t want him to mention what could happen to Sebastian. He gave a curt nod of his chin in response. “I don’t think that there’s anything you can do now. It’s been fixed. I handed the case over to the ghost boys. Maybe they’ll film an episode about the location Tony found.” Hunter shrugged and reached forward to pat Blaine’s knee and then re thought it. He couldn’t give in yet, all he wanted to do was squeeze in between them on the couch and loosen his Gucci tie. “Doesn’t mean that this isn’t serious but, I think you understand that. Just don’t do this shit again, okay? This fucking sucked.”

Hunter heard the soft paws of an animal land. He looked up to see a white fluff of fur with remarkable eyes. The dagger strapped to his side thrummed with energy, and not just from Blaine. This was a familiar. He could sense the message, lay off the boy. “I’m just doing my job, ma’am.” Hunter rolled his eyes, “She’s intense,Anderson.” He cleared his throat after a few beats, and looked at both of the men. “I want to move past this. I just want you guys to promise to be more responsible. Seb...what would I do if you got hurt? What would Sabine do? Blaine, just think of your dad and Tony next time you want to play Fabio.”

Sebastian:

Sebastian hated when Hunter got serious like this. Not because it was annoying, even if he pretended it was in the future, but because letting down your best friend was a different type of low. Seeing the little wrinkle in between Hunter’s eyebrows always signaled sadness or stress, and there it sat, judging him. “We promise, okay? Call it a moment of weakness.” Sebastian let go of Blaine’s hand in favor of wrapping his arm around the other man’s waist. He squeezed his hip.

He bit his bottom lip and nodded when Hunter mentioned himself and his mother. He didn’t want to entertain the thought of breaking his mother’s heart like that and deep, deep down he hated upsetting his best friend. “I got it. I think B understands, too.” He looked at Blaine and read his watery, gold eyes. Seb knew that he felt the seriousness to his core and regretted potentially putting Sebastian in harm’s way. “So, can we just move on now?”

Blaine:

Blaine gave Freya a little smile of thanks, knowing that she appreciated Hunter calling her ma’am more than she’d ever let Blaine know. She didn’t need to be so worried around Hunter but he appreciated her protection all the same. “Yeah, she really is. I mean, she’s very old and has been through a lot. Or so she likes to remind me often.” He attempted to joke but it fell flat and his laugh felt forced. Which was ridiculous because this was Hunter. They were friends. They’d worked rather hard to get to this point too. And now Tony was brought up and all he could think about was his mom and how if Tony were upset with him it might mean his mother would be too. He sighed, resigning to the fact that he felt miserable and that it was going to take a long time for him to let this subside.

Not because he wanted to dwell on it, but because he needed to let this sting for a little bit. Their lives depended on it. He needed to remember that it wasn’t just about Sebastian but also about Hunter and Tony and their jobs and how much they cared for him and Sebastian and about Sabine. He could just picture Sabine’s pretty face full of sorrow over losing her only son to some unseen madness. He also needed to remember that no matter how strained their relationship was that he was all his father had left and that he ought to think of that more often too.

He nodded to Hunter, his face heating up at the mention of him trying to be Fabio. “I wasn’t- no, that’s not what I was trying to do…” He bit his lip, trailing off. Feeling a little embarrassed over his display of romance and showing Seb that Paris could still be romantic even if you were raised there. He had to remind himself that Sebastian had loved it. He had been filled with wonder and looked like he was falling in love with his city again. So maybe it was worth it after all. But, he only felt comfortable thinking that now knowing that they were all safe. Hunter and Tony were okay and had managed. Nobody had seen him or Seb. They were okay. And they would be okay for now. He knew it was going to sit with him but, he needed to move on or it would eat him up and make him wonder why he was doing this. Why was he insistent on staying when everything was screaming at him to walk away and the other man be. But, how could he? It would break his heart in two. And he knew it would do the same to Sebastian. He didn’t really feel like he could exist without him any longer. And after what he went through with losing his mother he wouldn’t be able to walk away. And really, call him dramatic but, he’d rather die than leave. He knew Sebastian knew he had a choice too. He just chose Blaine. Their little red string was stronger than ever and he’d be damned if he snipped it on his own. He just also needed to remember how high the stakes were now and always.

He gave another nod and set his jaw. “I can promise you that it won’t ever happen again. We will never be seen and my guard will never be down in public again.” He reached his free hand out and gave Hunter’s a firm shake and made a promise to send Tony a long message later. (She was in Ohio with her parents for the week.) He allowed Sebastian to pull him closer, comforting him, he could feel the heat of his hand radiating to his hip. He let himself feel it for a moment, the closeness and the energy of his boyfriend’s love before clearing his throat. “Seb’s right. We should move on but, we shouldn’t forget. I keep my word and I stand by what I said.” He nodded and allowed a small genuine smile grace his face. “Why don’t I make us dinner? We could relax and maybe watch a movie? I’m sure you have clothing here somewhere, Hunter.”

Hunter:

Hunter stood up from the coffee table and clasped his hands together. He was satisfied that this was all over and resolved and that the two of them seemed genuinely sorry. Hunter stretched out his legs and shook them before he stretched his arms up to the ceiling. “Oh, I’ll borrow some of Bas’s stuff. I always do!” He didn’t wait for Sebastian to offer, he just showed himself to the bedroom, kicked off his shiny loafers, and found an old Dalton Warblers tee shirt (he had one,too but this one said SMYTHE on the back!) and a pair of black Nike sweatpants. He folded up his suit and tucked his dagger in between the layers of luxurious fabric before setting the items on the dresser. Before leaving the room he ruffled the sleeping Golden’s ears.

Hunter came back out to the living room where he forced himself in between the two men on the couch. “God, guys. That was tough. I hate being mad at you two. Don’t do that again. Where’s the remote? I wanna watch Fast Five. Gal Gadot is in it so, Bas will like it.” Hunter fidgeted with the television for a moment, thinking about what he should ask Blaine to cook. “Surprise us,Anderson!”

Sebastian:

Sebastian didn’t even attempt to move from his spot as Hunter took off towards his room. He knew that Hunter was going to do whatever he wanted, anyway. “That wasn’t so bad, right?” Seb leaned in and gave Blaine a few kisses while they were alone. He was so relieved that they weren’t going to get turned over to The Order or forced to break up. Sebastian clung to Blaine for a few moments longer, their joy unspoken and their bodies limp from the weight of stress.

He wasn’t shocked when Hunter squeezed in between them on the couch, it was usually like this when he was around. Seb grabbed the remote and shoved it in his friend’s hand. This man, this annoying little shit, had saved them. Had flown to Paris and cleaned up their mess and sucked up his ego and risked his career and reputation. “Sure, Hunter. I’m sure I can suffer through it. Promise not to get hard when Paul Walker walks on the screen, though.” He punched the other man in the arm, pushed him off the couch a little bit as they laughed. God, he loved his friend and his boyfriend and his life was once again set back into balance.

Blaine:

Blaine let out a laugh that felt far too good to release. “What did you think I meant by my statement in the first place, Clarington?” He rolled his eyes as Hunter all but sauntered into their bedroom to no doubt find an outfit of Seb’s that would annoy the shit out of him. He was lucky he was so damn endearing. Annoyingly so but endearing all the same. He let himself be kissed and comforted by his boyfriend, relishing the way his lips fit perfectly against his. “You’re right, it could have been much worse.” He sat pressed to Sebastian, enjoying his company and the knowledge that they’d be okay today. He should have been annoyed when Hunter all but shoved them both apart and sat himself right between them, cozying up to them. He only felt a minor sting of frustration at seeing Hunter in one of Blaine’s favorite shirts of his, because of course Hunter would pick something out that said Seb’s name so boldly. Instead his rolled his eyes and let himself be moved. His arm behind Hunter’s head, fingers brushing over Seb’s neck just so why he listened to them bicker. After all Hunter had done so much for them, he deserved to be an absolute shit tonight.

Seb’s statement about Paul Walker cheered him right up though and he let out a bigger laugh, full and real. “I think he got you there, Hunter.” He patted Hunters arm, “I hope you like chicken nachos, homemade. It was meant for our dinner but, well, I guess we gotta share now. Back in a flash.” He smiled to himself and gave Seb’s shoulder a squeeze before making his way to the kitchen. He opened three beers, delivered two to his boyfriend and friends and took a long swig before making his way back to the kitchen to cook. His smiles were coming easier and he was starting to feel a little better, the cool beer soothing his frazzled nerves as he popped the chicken into the oven for their food. But, as he stood in the doorway while he waited for the food to cook and watched his beautiful human boyfriend laugh with his slayer best friend he couldn’t help but feel there was now a little hourglass with pretty sand running down the days his life. On their lives. Maybe it’s always been there, now he just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

/fin

#seblaine and hunter para #para #smythesm #andersoncharm #seblaine witch rp #seblaine

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ladyseaheart1668 · 5 years ago

Text

Endless Summer Book 4 : Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 40)

Description: Rourke’s shadow continues to loom over the Catalysts and the Northbridge Supers. But there is joy mixed in with their dread.

Tagging: @mysteli @whatmcsaid @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @endlesshero1122 @feartheendlesssummer @tigerbryn11

Chapter 40 : The Beauty of Winter

Diego

I admit to being nervous that something would go wrong in the process of obtaining our marriage license, but it seems Zahra did it again when she created Varyyn's legal identity, because nothing is questioned. We have our marriage license within an hour, with plenty of time to make it to the ceremony at the appointed time.

It's not a fancy ceremony, but I don't need it to be, and I'm pretty sure Varyyn feels the same. As far as I'm concerned, we've been married for six years, and this is really just a renewal of vows. Even the vows are of the traditional “to have and to hold” variety. Still, it's not nothing to exchange rings with the man I love and have us declared legally wed in front of witnesses. Obviously, there's no need for a reception, either. But I do manage to reserve the garden gazebo long enough for a few slow dances. I chose one song in particular, a Spanish-language love song that I heard a few years ago when it was performed by the choir at the college I was lecturing at for the semester. I bought their CD just for this song. As I sway gently in Varyyn's arms, my head resting on his shoulder, I let the lyrics wash over me.

Yo no naci sino para quereros;

Mi alma os ha cortado a su dedida;

Por hábito del alma misma os quiero.

Escrito está en mi alma vuestro gesto;

Yo lo leo tan solo que aun de vos

Me guardo enesto.

Quanto tengo confiesso yo deveros;

Por vos naci, por vos tengo la vida,

Y por vos é de morir y por vos muero.

“This was a wonderful surprise, my darling,” Varyyn murmurs. I sigh happily, nuzzling his neck.

“I'm glad you think so. I'm glad I was able to pull it off, too. Allie and Jake helped, of course. And Zahra.”

“Do you regret at all that the rest of the Catalysts weren't present?”

“Nah. They were all at our real wedding. Besides, it's only a couple months until Sean and Michelle's wedding, and I wouldn't want to steal their thunder.”

“A fair point. Should we not tell them about this?”

“There's no need to keep it a secret. Zahra knows. We'll just let it come out naturally.” I pull back slightly so I can look him in the eye, letting my arms drape around his neck. I smile as I gaze into his eyes. “...Amor de mi alma...”

“ 'Love of my soul'?”

“That's the name of this song.” I peck his mouth with mine. “And it's what you are to me.”

“...I love you, my Diego. I don't know how I could have been so lucky to have found you...”

“You brought an army to the resort where I was staying and lassoed me right up.” I meant it as a joke, but he winces visibly. I take his face in my hands. A blue halo hovers around my fingers, barely detectable as they displace the light creating the hologram disguise. “Baby, you know I don't hold that against you, right?”

“...I know. You and I have had a long time to get past that. I am still so sorry for it. I won't ever forget the lessons I was taught over those six months. ...And I do not only mean English.”

“Well...that's a good thing. Lessons should be remembered. As long as you don't let guilt drown you.”

“I promise, if ever I am tempted to let guilt drown me, I think of my darling.”

There is nothing that needs to be said to that. I lean back into my husband's embrace, resting my head on his chest. I steal a glance over at Allie and Jake, gazing into each other's eyes as they sway. Her arms are around his neck and his fingers lace together at the small of her back, but they can't press in very close thanks to Allie's ever-expanding baby bump. The sight makes me smile.

I know trouble is coming. I don't think we're safe from Rourke. Not yet. But at least for now, everything is right with the world.

Alodia

So I get to spend my Saturday in Vegas. I get to watch my best friend be legally married to the love of his life, and I get to fall asleep that night beside mine. No one dies in my dreams that night. But I wake in the gray hours of the morning with vague memories of a journey home. It should have been simple and straightforward, just a straight shot driving down a long road, but somewhere along the way, the road twisted and turned dusty. I lie in bed with River swimming languidly in my womb, listening to Jake's soft breathing and the hum of the air conditioning as I carefully collect the scattered images of my dreams, laying them out in my brain like puzzle pieces.

They don't add up to much, and they're more than a little ridiculous now that I am awake. When the smooth stretch of paved highway that I drove down turned to a dusty dirt road, the sudden appearance of train tracks lead to a locomotive that seemed to actively pursue me like a smoke-belching dragon. At some point I escaped, but ended up driving on a track of rollercoaster instead. Somehow I must have exited the car, because the next thing I knew, I was at Hartfeld. My friends were all there, busy with classes and activities. I think Rourke was there, too. He was playing with beakers, rambling about something to do with the island, with the Endless, with Project Janus. But I was striding purposefully through the main halls, laser-focused still on getting home, convinced that all I had to do was keep going straight. I must have gotten home at some point, because the next I knew, I was in bed with Jake. But not here and now, in a Vegas hotel. It couldn't have been, because I wasn't pregnant. Instead, there was a form between us. Small and fair-skinned, like me and like Jake. Blue-eyed, of course, but with chestnut hair; a blend of my blonde and his sandy brown. A perfect blend of the two of us. I roll carefully to face Jake's peacefully sleeping form, scooting closer to drape my arm over him.

I've never actually been religious, not even in this timeline. And it's a little hard now to think of God in the traditional sense with what the Endless put the Vaanti through on her quest to protect us. But sometimes I can't help praying to whoever or whatever power might be listening.

Please... I send a thought out into the universe as I hold the image of the chestnut-haired child in my mind. Please let this be what I'm heading toward...

Jake

We do actually end up spending most of Sunday at Santa Monica Pier, which I don't regret. Exciting as Vegas is, it's nice to have a quieter day to close out the weekend. We play air hockey and pinball at the arcade, visit the aquarium, ride the ferris wheel, eat fries and sandwiches for lunch, and end the afternoon with ice cream and a walk along the docks.

The newlyweds are predictably eating more ice cream off each other's faces than their own cones. They may have been married and living together for the last five years, but I guess there's no escaping the giddy afterglow of a wedding. I'm kinda feeling it myself. When Varyyn and Diego finally manage to finish their cones, there's nothing left between them and passionately kissing and groping. In a blink, Varyyn has Diego's back pressed against a lamppost. I chuckle, bending to press a kiss to the curve of Alodia's neck.

“Those two seem to have forgotten us,” I murmur. “Wanna go get some sand between our toes?”

“Absolutely.”

We toss our cups into the trashcan and make our way down to the beach, taking off our shoes and socks to carry in hand as we walk.

“That was a real nice little wedding,” I remark. “Not sure it tops the first one, though.”

“Well, the first one had everyone there,” Alodia points out. “Though admittedly, you and I didn't get much chance to witness it, being a bit distracted.” She playfully kisses my cheek. I lace the fingers of my free hand through hers, and bend to kiss the top of her head.

“You ever think you might wanna do that someday? Get a license for the two of us and legally get hitched.”

She hesitates for a moment. “...Do you?”

I shrug. “Maybe. I ain't thinking it's a necessity, though there are practical advantages. I wasn't thinking it would be any time soon, either. Think we got enough on our plates as is with the baby due.”

She nods. The relief in the smile she gives me doesn't escape me. “Yeah. As fast as everything has been happening since I got back...I'm not sure I could handle a second wedding right now. Besides...as much as I know it's been more than five years for you...it hasn't been nearly as long for me.”

“No, I guess it hasn't. ...Guess it's like when we went through the portal and wound up six months ahead. We came out still looking like hell after the battle, and we found Diego with a beard and long hair.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” She sighs. “I think I'd like to live as husband and wife the way we were supposed to before we make it official out here.”

“...I seem to recall us making plans to have a little cottage on the island way back when. ...A mansion in Laguna Beach is a bit of a leap.”

“Well, not too much when you really think about it. If everything had stayed the way it was, we probably would have lived at the Celestial until our cottage got built. We'd have our friends around us...all of us together on our own private island...” She trails off, and I get the sense we're venturing into painful territory. I put my arm over her shoulders and pull her close to my side, kissing the top of her head.

“I guess it's a little too early for me to be thinking about how I'm gonna top this come Valentine's Day.”

She lays her head on my shoulder. “Come Valentine's Day, we'll be in Northbridge. All the Catalysts together again.”

“You just saw everyone two weeks ago. Miss them that much already?”

“Is that weird?”

I smile. “Nah. I miss 'em, too. It'll be good to see 'em again. Help with the last-minute prep for the wedding.”

She snorts. “And what kind of prep are you going to be doing? From what I hear, while I'm getting fitted for my bridesmaid dress, you and the men are going to be having wild times at the bachelor party Craig's planning.”

“Mmm, yeah. And knowing him, it will be a properly debauched affair.”

“Knowing the groom, it won't be too debauched, or else Craig will never hear the end of it.”

“You're right. Sean's a decent, modest sort of man.” I smile at her and she smiles back. She sighs, and the sound is content. I put an arm over her shoulders and she nestles into me. “...I'm not, though. I'm a lowlife lecher.”

She snorts. “Yeah, right. After five years, it's a miracle I don't have jealous ex-lovers assaulting me every day for stealing you away.”

“Of course not. They all hate me so much, they're just secretly shaking their heads, thinking you're just my latest poor victim.”

“And none of them have come forward to warn me? That's not very...” She trails off and doesn't say anything long enough that I frown.

“Very what?” I prompt.

She lifts her head, turning to look at my face. “...Jake...I think...I've had a thought about how Rourke...how he disappeared.”

I reflexively glance around, making sure we're not in earshot of anyone who might give us funny looks. I take her shoulders gently and kiss her forehead. “Not here. Tell us all together in the car.”

* * *

The atmosphere is anxious as we buckle ourselves in and I start the car. She told Diego and Varyyn the same thing she told me. That she's had a thought about how Rourke faked his death.

“What's your thought, Alodia?” Varyyn asks.

“Do you remember that...demonstration Rourke gave us when we got to MASADA? When Sean and Zahra and Craig and I were disguised as Arachnid? You know, the thing he did with the beakers and the liquified crystal?”

“...Yeah...” Diego confirms. “...Kinda.”

“I have an image in my mind of him plucking a full beaker out of thin air. He talked about the Endless being able to do that herself. And...I know he was right. What if he found away to do that himself?”

“But...how? How would he do that?”

“The same way he did it with the beakers. ...And possibly the same way the Endless did it. With the crystals.”

Varyyn shakes his head. “No...no, the time crystals were not strong enough. Only the Island's Heart had enough power.”

“He has the Prism Crystal now. That's made from my life energy. And I'm the missing piece of the Island's Heart. Not to mention the Endless. ...I think the Prism Crystal has enough power.”

“To do what exactly?” I ask. “Pluck himself out of the air like a beaker?”

“Well, that's a phrase I never thought I'd hear,” she quips. “But...yeah. Basically. ...I think the Prism Crystal could have enough power to allow Rourke to pluck another version of himself out of time and space. And kill that one. Or...apparently, make that one kill himself.”

“...And Daddy Weirdbucks is fucking twisted enough that I bet he could convince an alternate version of himself to commit suicide if it would put him toward his purpose,” I growl. “One problem with that theory, Princess, is that he doesn't have the Prism Crystal. I'm pretty sure Tahira would have told you if he'd gotten ahold of it.”

“What about Liquid Prism?”

“...I guess...if he managed to get his grimy paws on that stuff, he could find a way to use it...”

“And it's definitely possible he found a way to get some,” Diego murmurs, a tremor in his voice. “I've never stopped believing he had other lackeys running around doing his bidding.”

Alodia nods. “I'll call Tahira first thing when we get home.”

“It's gonna be three hours later for her than for us.”

“I know she won't mind. Not for something this important.”

* * *

I think Tahira was in bed when we called, but Alodia's right. She doesn't mind being bothered. We sit in the kitchen with her on speaker and tell her about our theory.

“I don't know anything about how Rourke could have gotten his hands on Liquid Prism. But it is possible it wasn't all off the streets before he disappeared.” She's quiet for a moment. “It's kind of a coincidence that you called tonight. The thing is...there have been some developments here. Caleb warned us of two pretty formidable criminals who have their eyes on the Prism Crystal. The Crystal is safe at the moment. But...just a few hours ago, Grayson told me that an entire crate of Liquid Prism has gone missing from the lab.”

Zahra

“Well, fuck me sideways...” I sit back in the chair in Santiago Lupo's office, reviewing his security tapes. “There's...nothing. Nothing at all. It's like they're ghosts. And the security systems weren't tripped at all?”

“That's why Mr. Prescott insisted we make contact with you,” Santiago says. “He thinks the systems might have been hacked, and apparently, you're a genius with security systems and...figuring out if they have been hacked...”

“Well, he's not wrong. ...I have to wonder if this footage has been doctored at all. I can't see any sign of it right away.”

“Maybe they're using stealth suits,” Grayson suggests. “Dax was working on something like that.”

“Yeah,” I murmur. “I've encountered technology like that before myself.”

Of course, we both know he's referring to the same stealth suit that Eva claims to have 'borrowed indefinitely.' But I'm thinking of someone else. Someone who once put a katana to my back and demanded the Island's Heart. Still, I don't think stealth suits alone would be enough to pull off a heist like this. I'm looking at security footage that shows the liquid prism being locked away in a safe for the night, and then goes to the next morning when the lab tech returns to set everything up, only to discover the stuff missing. The door to the safe never even opens on the footage I'm looking at.

“There's gotta be something we're missing here,” I muse aloud. “Leave this footage with me. I'll go over it with a fine-toothed comb. I'll figure out what we're looking at.”

Caleb

It feels weird to be meeting Tahira in the underground Prescott facility where we were both prisoners, but as she pointed out, it's safe. It's not currently in use, and it's unlikely anyone who isn't in on our secrets is going to find us here.

I light up and take a drag, exhaling smoke as I lean against the smooth metal-enforced wall. Tahira looks at the cigarette between my fingers with faint distaste, but she doesn't say anything.

“...So, it was just the liquid that went missing?” I ask. “The crystal's safe?”

“It's safe. We've got it protected.” She pauses. “You don't suppose there's any chance your...associates are behind this, do you?”

“They came in and got out without leaving a trace. If Gigi or Stonewall has that ability, I don't know about it. Don't think it's their style, either. In their own separate ways, they both like to leave impressions. They want to be noticed.”

“I can see why they thought you'd fit in, then,” she quips. I make a face.

“Low blow, hero. Accurate, but low.” I take another drag. “In any case, I'll keep my eyes and ears open. If that liquid prism hits the streets, it won't be long before news starts filtering through the underground.”

“Honestly, having it on the streets isn't what worries me.”

“No?”

“That stealth tech they may have been using? ...Minuet has Dax's only working stealth suit at the moment. ...But...” She trails off into a loaded silence.

“...But...what?” When she still doesn't answer after awhile, I press further. “You think it might be an inside job? Someone who has access to his research?”

“...I guess that is a possibility...”

“But it's not the one you were thinking of?”

She sighs. “Talos and Minuet would say I shouldn't share this with you...but...Dax isn't the only one who was working on stealth tech. There was a branch of the military that had access to a stealth suit at least five years before Dax's version was perfected.”

“And...you know this how?”

“I have my sources. But that's all you're getting for now.” She frowns, her left hand drifting to cover the wristband secured just above the joint on her right forearm. “...Hang on a sec. Someone's calling.”

“Right. Secret hero stuff. Should I plug my ears?”

“I'll just take it in the next cell,” she replies with a smirk. She steps out of sight, and I hear her murmuring to whoever has contacted her. When she comes back, her expression has turned dark.

“Big trouble, I'm assuming?”

“Not sure. Minuet's found something that concerns her.”

“Something to do with the liquid prism?”

“Worse,” she says grimly. “Seems a young woman approached her outside the hospital and left some strong hints that she had been the victim of something organized and ugly, and that she wasn't the only one. Minuet's worried she's talking about human trafficking.”

“...That's not outside the realm of possibility,” I concede. “Plenty of fucks who'll take advantage of the desperate and vulnerable. Saw enough of that in my time.”

“And did nothing to stop it, I assume.”

“Hey! I never claimed to be a hero, but I've never been a bully, either. I've never gone after anyone who couldn't fight back.”

“But those people still end up getting hurt,” she retorts. “Remember the little girl who almost burned to death when you attacked the DMV?”

I scowl. Her assessment of me smarts in spite of everything. “Okay, fine. I'm scum. Guess I should leave you to go be a hero.”

“I certainly don't have any time to waste. I'll see you around, Caleb.”

“Right.”

She leaves. For awhile, I debate following her. I flip-flop long enough that my window of opportunity undoubtably closes. It's getting late by the time I leave. Late enough that I should start figuring out where to sleep. The January night air is bitterly cold, and I hunker down in my coat, pulling the collar up over my face. Definitely a night for the homeless shelter. Sleeping in my van will likely result either in me freezing to death or setting the damn thing on fire to keep warm.

There aren't many people out on the streets. At least, not in the neighborhoods I'm walking in. Not much nightlife around here. I do recognize one person that I pass on the sidewalk. Kenji Katsaros, son of the DA. What he's doing in this neighborhood, I don't know. It's pretty late for photo ops, and philanthropy isn't really his style, either. That's more Grayson Prescott's thing. Ahh, but what do I care. He's not bothering me, just blabbing on his phone. ...Whatever he's talking about, it's clearly troubling him. He steps aside for me as we pass, but barely looks at me.

“Yeah...I'll make sure Mom knows. ...Right. …Be careful, Tahira.”

The name stops me in my tracks. I turn back to look at him, but he's walking on, his back to me, totally unaware of my presence. My thoughts start to race too fast for me to follow, like there's a bomb going off in my head, or a power surge or a short circuit that leaves only intuition functioning. I can barely understand what I'm thinking. All I know is I should follow him. I'm good enough to do it without him realizing.

I really don't know why I'm doing it. I don't actually know what language the name Tahira comes from—Turkish, maybe?—but I'm sure she's not the only Tahira in the whole city of Northbridge. But I happen to know that Kenji Katsaros is closely associated with the Tahira I know. They work together at The Grand. Also, he's heading towards the DA's office. Which makes sense, if he's going to let his mother know something. But why doesn't he just call her?

Not far from city hall, Kenji abruptly ducks into an alley. A narrow path between the buildings that could be serving for a shortcut...except that he's supposed to be going to the DA's office. I press myself flush against a wall and ease myself into the alley a safe distance behind him, keeping to the shadows. He almost certainly never realizes I'm there, because in the next moment, his skin turns to bronze, and everything falls into place.

Well, shit. ...Kenji Katsaros is Talos.

I make it to the shelter, but I don't remember getting there. I get myself a bed, but I don't really sleep. I guess that explains why he hates me more than either Tahira or Minuet do. I tried to kill his mom. Fuck. That means winning his trust is going to be a lot harder than I realized.

I think it's going to be to my advantage to lie low for awhile. At least until I figure out what I'm going to do with this information.

Eva

The next couple weeks seem to pass very quickly. Tahira, Kenji, and I have our hands full for awhile with the trafficking ring, but let's face facts, its days were numbered once we got wind of it. By February, it's been shut down, and the three of us meet with Dax and Poppy at The Grand to celebrate. Tahira helps me get home afterward, but once I get there and climb into bed, I can't sleep. Of course, that doesn't entirely surprise me. Dad has a doctor's appointment in the morning. I never sleep well before his doctor's appointments.

He's actually been doing really well. Thanks to Tahira helping me expose Mayhew, we were able to afford experimental treatments. He went into remission not long after we got Tahira back from the crystal dimension, and since then, the doctors tell me that everything has continued to be encouraging. But I can't relax. No matter how encouraging his scans, I can't shake the feeling that my father is living on borrowed time. And for all that I can put people in slow motion...I can't actually slow time down.

We arrive at the hospital's outpatient clinic with plenty of time for Dad to playfully flirt with the receptionists. He charms them as usual, and when we're taken back, we leave the waiting room in a cloud of good humor.

“You have the entire staff of this place wrapped around your finger, Dad,” I remark as I help him into a hospital gown. “I guess it helps that you flirt like it's going out of style.”

“Life is short, mija,” he says with a grin. “I will live every moment with gusto.”

My hands pause on the strings of the gown. “...I wish you wouldn't say things like that at a time like this.”

“...I'm sorry, mija. That was insensitive of me. All this is so much harder on you than on me.”

“Is it really, though? You're the one who's gone through all the pain and sickness.”

“That is difficult, it is true. But I think it is easier for me to endure than for you to watch. ...And the thought that I might die almost certainly frightens you more than it frightens me.”

“How much does it frighten you?”

He shrugs. “I don't want to die. You're still young enough that I had hoped to see many more years with you. But I don't worry about it like I would if you were still a little girl and I were leaving you without parents. You're a strong, capable young woman. And if I die in the near future, I will die with confidence that you will be all right.”

I don't say anything to that. I finish tying his gown and put my arms around his shoulders to kiss his cheek.

Not long after, the medical shenanigans get underway, and conversation becomes functional. At the end of it, the doctors are smiling, and it seems my father is still doing well. As he gets dressed, my father smiles at me with a twinkle in his eye.

“When you were a little girl and I took you to the doctor, you always got ice cream afterwards if you were brave. I think we have both been very brave today. What do you say? Do we deserve ice cream?”

“Ice cream in February?”

“I won't tell if you don't.”

So of course, thirty minutes later, we're in the glass-ceilinged atrium of Northbridge Mall, sitting on a bench in front of the fountain and watching the bubble and flow from the jets while we methodically lick the sweet, creamy heads of our ice cream cones.

“Almost like having a summer moment indoors,” my father remarks.

“If you ignore the Valentine's Day decorations and the snow outside,” I reply, gesturing up at the skylights, where a steady swirl of snowflakes is clearly visible. “I wish it were summer. I'm getting sick of winter.”

“I am grateful for winter,” Dad murmurs. “Because at this moment, it is winter. And I am grateful for this moment.”

I look back down at my cone. I dig a chunk of cookie dough out of the small vanilla hill with the nail of my index finger.

“Is that the secret to happiness then? Just be grateful for the moment?”

“I don't think it's a secret, mija. Or a guarantee of happiness. But it is how I have chosen to live since I got sick. The fact is that everyone's time is limited. Mine might be more limited than I once expected. But right now, I am alive. I am alive, and I find that this moment is worth living. ...I look forward to summer. But right now it is winter. And winter is beautiful in its own way. I won't ignore the beauty that exists now because I am waiting for something that is yet to come.”

I sigh, slipping my arm through his and laying my head on his shoulder. I feel him kiss the top of my head lightly. He has an undeniable point. I can't actually slow down time. I won't try to rush it either. It's winter, my father is alive, and I have a sugar cone topped with cookie dough ice cream. Right now, that's all I need.

Michelle

Friday morning, I wake up an hour before my alarm. I should be irritated. I don't even have to be up with my alarm, considering that I have the day off. I only set the damn thing to keep some semblance of a routine in place. But I'm not actually annoyed at all. It's excitement that has me awake so early. Today, my friends arrive from California. They're here so that my maid of honor and Sean's last couple groomsmen can have their final fittings at the tailors. It needs to be done now so that if there are any adjustments that need to be made, we'll have time to make them. I roll towards Sean, still dead to the world and snoring a little, and drape my arm over him.

In only a little over a month, I am finally going to be his wife.

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

BTW, the song Diego and Varyyn dance to is a real song. It is called Amor de mi Alma, and it is beautiful.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0xtyjJ8eYo

Also, here is a translation.

I was born to love only you; My soul has formed you to its measure; I want you as a garment for my soul. Your very image is written on my soul; Such indescribable intimacy I hide even from you. All that I have, I owe to you; For you I was born, for you I live, For you I must die, and for you I give my last breath.

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domvalentina · 5 years ago

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she used to be mine → self-para

who: valentina remirez, andrea ramirez

when: october 14th 2019

what: just a regular sunday night

warnings: drugs, alcohol, alcoholism

“Mami!” Val huffed as she lugged the two large bags inside the door, dropping them both immediately inside. “I brought groceries and ignoring the fact that the cashier is still the biggest fucking creep, the empanada looked real good so I got you some.”

Once inside and with the door kicked shut behind her, Val took in the sight in front of her. It was late, she’d dropped by after work and her own errands and while the sun was setting outside, there was no light on inside. For a moment, she thought her mom might not be home, might have gone out for one reason or another. But as if on cue, a noise came from the living room that she’d vaguely recognized as her name. She reached out, found the light-switch and flicked it -- to no avail. She tried again but try as she might, the room remained dark. So she moved along carefully, ignoring the occasional rustling or crunching under her shoes as she stepped on god knew what.

Rounding the corner, the image she found was as unsurprising as it was disappointing. Her mother, sprawled out on the couch, eyes half-lidded and unfocused. The coffee table in front of her was littered with so much stuff that Val didn’t even know where to start. It was brighter here, some of the last sunshine of the day making it at least somewhat possible to see. The place was a fucking mess. There were take-out boxes and bags strewn across the floor, clothes, food left-overs, paraphernalia.

Again, Val tried the lightswitch next to the door and got rewarded with absolutely nothing. “Why don’t the light work?”

A beat.

“I gave you the money for the bill last week.”

Another beat, her gaze falling to pill bottle on the table in front of her. Lovely. The familiar feeling of anger bubbled in her stomach and she couldn’t tell whether it was directed at her mother or herself. Years ago, she would have yelled. She would have thrown that bottle across the room and lectured and lost her mind. That money was for the fucking bills. For groceries. Not for that fucking shit, mom! But this wasn’t like that first time. Or the second. By now, she knew to just send the money directly to the company. And by now, she’d lost count of how many times she’d tried only for it to be thrown right back in her face. And god, she was so tired of it.

"I’ll put the groceries away.”

Not for the first time, she wished for a bit of normality as she went back to gather the bags and carried them into the kitchen. Vague memories of freshly baked muffins in the afternoon and surprise trips to the theater on the weekends still haunted her. It’s what made coming here so hard. She looked at her mother and remembered the long breakfasts in bed on Sundays or the front row seats during pre-school plays. Comparing all that to the woman she’d become now -- the one slurring her words on the couch, the one who couldn’t keep her eyes open when the sun was barely setting -- it stung more than Valentina was willing to admit she was capable of feeling.

She was fine on her own, she didn’t need anybody. Taking care of herself was what she was best at. But sometimes, she wished she could just come home to her mom being there. To a warm hug and an ear to listen. Instead, Val never knew whether she’d find her in a pool of her own vomit or not at all when she got here.

So she tried not to have expectations, she tried to leave her heart at the door -- her own one, before she went out into the world -- and didn’t get attached. One person breaking her heart on the regular was more than she could handle as it was, so why give anyone else the chance?

Expression schooled into the same icy mask she wore everywhere else, she made herself useful in the kitchen: cleaning everything out of the fridge that had started to grow mold, putting fresh food in. Tossing away all the trash littering the surfaces, wiping them down. Careful fingertips picked up syringes and dropped them into the empty detergent bottle she’d found in the mess. It took her twenty minutes to make way at all but by the time she was done, at least the surfaces were free and any hints of mold had been cleaned away. The bags of groceries had been replaced by bags of trash she’d take with her on her way out. It was getting too dark to continue, anyway.

“Hey, I cleaned the kitchen but you should rea--” Val stopped halfway through, fingers pushing hair off her slightly damp forehead as she made her way back to the living room. Her mother, for one, seemed to have fallen asleep. Valentina’s lips twitched as she stood in the doorway for a moment. After a few long seconds, she moved forward, tugged the crumpled blanket out from under her mother’s feet and instead pulled it over her. Leaning over the side of the couch, she pressed her lips to her forehead and pretended not to pause to check for breathing. She was.

“Cuídate, mami.”

With that, she stepped back, collected the trash and took one last look at her mother -- as per usual hoping it wouldn’t be the last time.

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

It was late by the time she got back home, tired and sweaty and with too many thoughts she didn’t want to deal with swarming her head. Some days it was easier to stay detached than others. Sometimes, she managed to drop by and leave almost unaffected but some days, she felt fourteen all over again -- wanting to scream at her mommy to be there, to get better, to be her mother. But she was in her goddamn mid-thirties and this was pathetic at best.

Once the door clicked behind her, she silently kicked off her heels and left them strewn across the entrance-way. Making a bee-line to the bathroom, she turned the faucet on, letting icy-cold water spill over her palms until they stung before she lowered her head and splashed handful after handful into her face. Blindly, she reached for a towel and pressed her face into it as she straightened herself again. It was fine. She was fine.

But then she lowered the towel and met her own gaze in the mirror and suddenly, it all felt far from fine. She had her mother’s eyes -- piercing, muddied with running mascara, revealing dark circles where she’d rubbed off the concealer. People who’d known him longer than she had used to tell her she had her father’s smile but all she could see while she stared at herself in the dim bathroom light was her mother.

Tired. So much potential, but all of it wasted. So many dreams, so many hopes and big ideas -- but none of them achieved, all of them just out of reach. Once, she could have had it all. All of the world’s possibilities, its chances and magic at her fingertips but she’d let it all slip away and now here she was: well past her prime, moving aside for the new bunch. Teaching girls ten years her junior and resenting them for having their whole lives ahead of them. One misstep was all it had taken for her to become nothing but a cautionary tale stage-moms told their pretty little daughters about. A laughing stock. A has-been who was probably clinging onto the last shreds of her dream too hard. Hiding in the dark while mold grew elsewhere.

At once, she tossed the towel into the sink and turned sharply to get our of the bathroom, away from the mirror and her mother’s eyes. She flicked on the dim light in the corner as she stalked into the kitchen and yanked open a cabinet. Shaky fingers reached for the half-empty bottle in plain sight before she dropped into a stool at the isle and all but slammed the bottle down in front of her. A distant part of her mind knew she shouldn’t. She’d emptied the rest of her flask on the way home, that should have taken the edge off.

She closed her eyes, fingers blindly finding its way to the bottle and wrapping around it. Images of the past popped back into her mind -- the kiss her mother had given her that morning as she’d gone off to school. The warmth she’d felt, how taken care of and at home. Her mother, after school, sobbing on the couch, sobbing still a month later. No sobbing anymore now, just distant eyes and cold fingers. Those piercing eyes.

Her eyes snapped open again and she twisted the cap off the bottle in haste. There was a brief pause as she lifted it, but the moment passed and when the warm burn spread down her throat, her shoulders relaxed.

She was her mother’s daughter, after all.

#self para

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gideonthesoldier · 5 years ago

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the first funeral ; self para

September 1976

Weldon Elks was buried on a sunny Sunday morning, in a moving funeral service thrown by his family, who didn’t know anything about him.

Or, at least, they didn’t know how he spent his time. His job was fake, a made-up cover story tailored to fit the night and weekend patrols that few other Order members could stomach.

They didn’t know who his friends were, either. That much was evident. Gideon had handed his coat to somebody when he walked in, streaks of tears staining his face. It was only later that he’d realized it was Weldon’s brother who’d taken his coat – and that he’d forgotten to track it down again before leaving, which explained the cold he fell to in the days that followed. Everywhere in the room, those not too distracted by mourning were finding the time to shoot curious looks at the redheaded twins, inconsolable in the back of the room.

Someone asked Gideon a question, at one point – was he the nephew of so-and-so, the old bastard? Gideon, who was choking on the smell of flowers, accidentally agreed. Not that that stopped the whispering.

Gideon hadn’t been a member of the Order for long, and this was the first death he’d experienced. He hadn’t been there when It (the capital-I infected everyone’s whispers at that point) happened, but the aftermath was difficult to swallow. There would be more lost before the war was over, Gideon knew that. There would be harder sights to stomach, toughing hills to climb. Gideon knew that.

But fresh out of school and barely dispensed of his status as a New Recruit, he couldn’t imagine it. He couldn’t imagine anything more gut wrenching than the sight of Weldon’s sister throwing herself, sobbing, over the edge of the closed casket as if Weldon would wake up within and push the lid open with his infectious laugh. He couldn’t imagine anything more unnerving than the pale looks of all the elderly people in the room who assumed they’d be the firsts – by a long shot – to go.

And none of them even knew why he’d died. Or how. Or for who.

Definitely not for who. The Elks family was a small one, closely knit. Neighbors came and went, cousins struggled to control their children while maintaining their composure. But the main family, Weldon’s real one, stood in the same protected knot at the front of the room.

Weldon’s other family stood together at the back of the room.

Two redheaded twins, a man missing an eyebrow, two blonde woman that had nothing in common save the color of their hair and their penchant for defensive charms, and the space they were saving for Moody or Dumbledore, all the while knowing they wouldn’t show up. They stood just as tightly knit as the other group, murmuring variations of ‘we should say something’ and ‘we should leave.’

All around them, everyone else murmured, ‘who are those people?’

When Molly got married, Gideon and Fabian had delivered their toast the same way they’d done everything up to that point in their lives – together. They’d come into the world together, entered school together, watched their sister float down the aisle as a bride together. Joined the Order together. They were together today, too. Standing at the back of the funeral hope. There was no speech – eulogy, Gideon reminded himself, it’s called a eulogy – to deliver today. Not together. And certainly not for Gideon.

That honor (was it an honor, though?) belonged to Weldon’s partner Tristan.

Gideon had nothing to read, which was good because he had nothing to say.

Or, rather, he had too much to say.

Too much to say and no time given to say it, surrounded by a roomful of people that did not know who he was and did not understand why he looked every bit as upset as the rest of them. Not that Gideon could blame them for their confusion. He didn’t know any of them, either.

Even among the tearful clan of Order members who’d shown up to mourn, Gideon didn’t feel known. He’d begun to think of them as his family, in the loosest of terms. But his real family was beside him: Fabian hadn’t let go of his arm since they walked in, and Gideon knew he wouldn’t drop it until – until, not unless – he twisted it free of his own accord. He was grateful for it. He hated it, too.

Tristan (Gideon didn’t know his last name and felt an unpleasant twist of satisfaction in that fact) stood up to give the eulogy at one point, and it didn’t last long. It was a tidy, emotional thing, which had clearly been written and rewritten until it sounded perfect. Perfect, but dry. Perfect, but cold.

There was nothing cold about his face when he fell into silence. Someone tried to be helpful, prompted him along. Asked if he had ‘any last words.’ That blow fell suddenly and heavily against everyone in the room. There was something so sinking, so final about it. Last words. It was a concept that none of them could grasp, even after spending their day in this cramped, perfumed room talking around the idea of death to honor a man who was already dead. Who could not hear them. Eyes searched for eyes, looking for answers even on the faces of those they did not know. Did Tristan have any last words? Did anyone have any last words?

Oh, god, Gideon heard someone whisper, closer to the front of the room. It was a woman’s voice, but he couldn’t see where it came from, or from whom. Did Weldon have any last words?

It was a rhetorical question. Of course he’d had. But that didn’t change the fact that a sickly confusion was now spreading through the room. It was a mix of people realizing that they didn’t know exactly how Weldon had died. It was a mess of people realizing that everyone there would eventually have last words, and that somebody might not be around to hear them.

Gideon thought about wrenching his arm away from Fabian. He held onto his brother more tightly, instead.

Last words…last words about Weldon? It didn’t seem possible. What it seemed was ridiculously simplistic, especially because of all the things still unsaid.

Like the fact that Weldon had faked a work conference out of town for a long weekend just because one of the youngest Order recruits was having panic attacks about her glitching shield charms and he wanted the uninterrupted time to coax and coach her through it; Gideon had gone too, lounged on a couch nearby and watched Weldon’s wrist snapping with the elegant confidence of a swimmer.

Or the fact that Weldon spent every Christmas Eve cooking a dinner for Order members who had no families to go back to, or didn’t feel safe returning home. He’d looked genuinely stricken when the Prewett twins mentioned that they’d be spending the pre-holiday at Molly’s. He’d pressed a plate of still-warm leftovers into Gideon’s hands the next time they saw each other after New Year’s.

“I want to go home,” Gideon whispered to Fabian. For a moment, he worried his brother hadn’t heard. But then an identical chin gave a slight, understated nod. Neither of them moved yet, but they’d made the transition from staying to leaving. They were treading water through the uncomfortable grey space in between. Fabian’s eyes flickered toward the exit, mapping out – it was unlike him, unlike the both of them – the least intrusive path possible. Gideon’s eyes stayed fixed on Tristan.

They’d almost kissed once, Gideon and Weldon. At the time, Gideon chalked it up to his imagination. There had been drinks, and they were talking the same way they’d always talked, and nothing had happened at all. But there had been a moment…a look. Something heavy and tangible had passed between them in that moment, and the only thing that stood between a grieving Gideon and a guilty Gideon now was the fact that neither of them had leaned in, and that nobody else knew.

Gideon did not remember arriving home. He only remembered the heavy sensation of falling into bed and passing out almost immediately, some faint half-conscious awareness of Fabian telling him he needed rest to feel better. Pulling the blankets around himself to block out the light, Gideon also remembered being seized by a fleeting, desperate hope that he’d sleep peacefully and long enough to dull the overwhelming effect of all that had happened that day. That day, and in the weeks leading up to it. He just wanted to sleep easy.

He did not.

That was the sleep that brought his nightmares for the first time.

When Gideon woke up, visions of his bloodied and tortured family still swam before his eyes, ripping him out of sleep and shoving him into a world of cold sweat and a dark, lonely bedroom. It was the first time he realized he might never sleep easy again. Not until the war was over; not until he’d done everything possible to make sure his family was safe.

He needed to make sure both of his families were safe.

He didn’t want to have a funeral with a dividing line to separate the people that knew only a certain side of him. He didn’t want to stand in the back of the room watching more of his friends carried away by pallbearers to find new rest beneath the ground. He didn’t want to stand at the front of the room, either, knotted into a grieving family unit and forced to read out platitudes about people who couldn’t be dissolved down into a few neat words on a page.

All in all, Gideon had slept fourteen hours. He didn’t feel rested at all.

He stood up, still in his clothes from the day before, and didn’t break stride until he arrived at Order Headquarters. He’d been scheduled to have the next few days off but undid that with a stubborn wave of his hand. The next mission, he insisted. Whatever you’ve got. I’m in.

It was better, he reasoned, than somebody else having to go.

#xx self para #wiltimelines #it's LATE and FULL of NPCs i'm doing great #xx hc #september 1976

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seaoftranquiility · 5 years ago

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𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝

a self-para in which the darkness swallows ophelia melanthe whole.

word count: 2296, cw: amnesia, companion music

the sun peeked through the crack between the drapes with an innocence that only the dawn could bring. it was sunday, although she wasn't sure how she knew that. sleep would escape her now, but she didn't mind, as the view awake was far better than any dream. dark blonde hair matched the faint trace of stubble on his chin, leaving her mesmerized. she longed to reach out and touch it, feeling the soft prickling on her fingers, but she didn't want to wake him. no, instead she watched him in silence. his chest rose and fell with his deep breaths, and she tried to time her breaths with his. it felt strange, and yet somehow comforting. he looked so peaceful like this, it was almost hard to believe the strength beneath the surface. the things his muscles had accomplished, and would yet.

the peace would not last, though, as she made the terrible mistake of shifting her position. this heinous act alerted the pup sleeping at their feet, and once he realized that she was awake, he was on the move. he crawled up between them, his whole body wiggling with excitement as he licked at her face. she giggled as she pet his head and smothered him with kisses until he turned his attention to the other. the poor man would get no more sleep once the happy dog began to climb up on him. while groggy at first, it didn't take long for the frantic, excited kisses to wake him completely. the man too smothered the dog in pets and kisses, laughing as the dog tried to somehow lick both of his people at once. soon, the pup would jump from the bed, likely off to get food from his dish in the kitchen.

"good morning." she hummed, her voice soft, scooting closer to him. he slipped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he murmured a soft greeting. she was much smaller than him, her head surpassing his shoulders by only an inch or two while standing. this was an advantage to her, as it allowed her to fit herself into him with perfect ease. she could bury her cold nose against the warm flesh of his chest, a grin spreading across her face at his protests. it could be the hottest day in history and he was always the perfect temperature for her. she tilted her head up, feathering light kisses to his jaw until he looked down at her, giving her access to her prize. she brushed her lips against him with a soft smile, teasing him until he kissed her back. she brought up her hand to cup his cheek, brushing her thumb over the skin and stubble, savouring the feeling.

the light was too much to ignore now, turning the white walls of their room gold with promise of the day. her stomach rumbled with faint determination, earning a quiet laugh from both of them. "alright, babe, let's get some food in you." he teased, throwing back the covers. she did the same, lamenting the loss of the warmth as she got to her feet. her hands smoothed the oversized shirt she wore to bed, the air force logo displayed with pride. it fell almost to her knees, the sleeves to her elbows. she had stolen it soon into the beginning of their relationship, and had no intention of giving it back. he didn't seem to mind much, as she wore it quite often and he would flash her the same smile every time he saw it on her. she circled around the bed to join him, and he held out a hand for her to take. she noticed a sparkle on her left hand as she took his, and as soon as their hands linked together, the world shifted. it was momentary, a flash of grey, the room looked different. still a bedroom, but laid out in a completely different way. it was like a record skipping, a small crack in the brightness. she didn't understand it, not that it lasted long enough for her to try. he didn't seem to notice, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

hand in hand, they headed to the kitchen. they didn't have plans for the day, so they decided to make breakfast and then run some errands. a normal, peaceful day. she stretched over the kitchen sink, pulling open the blinds. she could hear rustling behind her as her love began taking out ingredients. he was a much better cook than her, she once burnt water so bad that the pot was glowing red by the time she realized it. they had been together long enough now that they had a routine. he would cook and she would make the coffee. she only had to put in the coffee and press some buttons. even she couldn't mess that up. well, usually. even if she did manage to burn the coffee or make it too strong, or even not strong enough, he still drank it. every time, with that same smile on his face. despite how terrible she was in the kitchen, he still loved her. it warmed her heart. she turned to face him, lips parting to ask if he needed help, when it happened again. longer this time, the kitchen changed. colours dimmed, the air cooler. the island was now replaced by a wooden table, two place settings set. she saw what looked like a pink child's cup before the flicker ended, and she was back in their kitchen.

once again, he didn't seem to notice, but it felt like someone had doused her in water, her body heavy. she could feel the pup scratching at the door to go out, but she was hesitant to go. a voice in the back of her head told her that if she walked away from him, she would lose him. she couldn't bear to lose him, he was everything. she reached out to touch him, her hand shaking. she needed to make sure he was still here, still real. when he felt her hand on his arm, he turned to her, smiling down at her. his smile and the love in his eyes eased some of the dread hanging over her, but she was still left uneasy. he leaned down to give her a soft kiss on the nose, causing her face to crinkle in amusement. he always made her feel so at ease with the world. the dog scratched at the door again and her love sighed. "can you let him out before he takes the door down?" he teased, kissing her forehead this time. she pouted, causing him to laugh. "come on, ophelia, please?" he drew out the last word in a playful tone, and she knew she couldn't say no to him, even if walking away filled her with dread. she leaned up on her toes, giving him one more quick kiss as she headed to the back door. panic grew in her chest with every step, despite the world continuing on like normal. their pup greeted her with excitement, doing a little wiggling dance. she gave him a quick head scratch before opening the door and letting him loose in the backyard.

as soon as the door clicked shut behind her, the world shifted again. once again, the colour drained from view, everything became more grey. she was no longer standing at their back door, she was now standing at the entrance to an apartment. the living room was facing her, with its broad window showcasing palm trees. why would there be palm trees? she heard his voice call out from the kitchen. "kennedy, breakfast is ready! hurry up or you'll be late!" who was kennedy? she followed the sound of his voice into the small kitchen. he was cooking, like before, but there was the table again, set as it was in the last flash. their pup barked at her, but when her love turned to see, he stared through her, unable to see her. confused, she stammered his name, but he didn't seem to be able to hear her either. at the sound of his name falling from her lips, the ground shifted, a crack opening by her feet. a little girl ran past her and it sent a dagger through her heart. they didn't have a child, where did she come from? she looked to him for answers, and she realized that he looked older, more tired, than before.

she looked around the room, hoping it would bring some sense to her. covering the fridge were drawings and photographs of her love and his daughter. she could almost see the resemblance between the man and girl, but her mother muse have been quite fair. ophelia was pale, but she had inherited her father's brown hair and green eyes. she could be a child of alaric, as he had inherited the blonde hair and blue eyes that made their mother so striking. her brother was not interested in women, though, so that was unlikely. the only logical solution was that ophelia was no longer in his life, and he had moved on. the thought caused her heart to break, and the crack in the floor widened, the earth shaking beneath her. the floor began to sink as darkness fell in the room, as if someone had turned off the sun. she cried out his name as the floor sank beneath her. her cries soon turned to screams, nothing but his name. "save me, please." she begged to deaf ears, pleading for the world to stop collapsing around her. as the last of the floor sank beneath her, he met her eyes with an absent confusion, as if he didn't remember her. the darkness enveloped her violently as she fell.

the darkness was only a flash though, and she was staring up at a dark ceiling. covered in white stucco, but dim in the darkness, it was the only solid point as the world spun. she forced herself to sit up, her brow covered in a layer of sweat and her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. her bedroom door flew open and olive ran in, tying the robe around her lithe form in a hurry. "ophelia? are you alright, darling?" she asked, her voice panicked and breathless. she must have been screaming in her sleep again and woken her sister. the younger girl nodded, sinking into the offered hug. her brain struggled to make sense of the dream. where these people real? the man she had loved, the little girl, did they exist? was it a memory or a dream? it was hard to tell sometimes.

once she had calmed down a little, olive returned to her room, and ophelia climbed out of bed. she looked down at the t-shirt she wore, to sleep, and for a moment, the air force logo flashed in front of her eyes. then it was gone, replaced by the familiar logo of a plant nursery. that made more sense, as dean wasn't in the air force, but he was a big plant geek. well, he called himself a botanist, she called him a plant geek. she shivered, chilled to the bone from the dream, and threw on a pair of sweatpants. she left everything, including her shoes, as she snuck out through the front door. he lived close, so she wasn't worried about the lack of footwear, and olive knew she often spent the night at his place. in fact, he left the door unlocked for her, for nights like this. his place was like a second home to her, so the darkness wasn't disorienting. she traveled in silence, this had become second nature to her. once or twice a week, she'd sneak into his bed. it was the only way she could sleep, with him there to protect her from the nightmares.

she pulled back the covers and slipped into the empty side of the bed, snuggling herself in close to him. he didn't hesitate to wrap an arm around her, his voice heavy with sleep as he mumbled her name. "don't let me go." she begged, throat tight with sobs she knew would never come. she never cried, would never show weakness like that. when she woke up in on the side of the road with no memories, she became a target. vultures would try to take advantage of her confusion, and she refused to allow that. only one person got to see her be weak, and he tightened his grip on her and let her bury her face in his chest. "never." he promised, and she wished he knew how he comforted her. how he eased her constant darkness. the only time she was safe from it's enveloping weight was here, curled into him. the darkness held no power over her here, for he had his own light.

exhaustion washed over her and she sighed, letting her eyes shut. his familiar, dark bedroom, lit only by the moon, became a golden room, lit by the sun and warmed by love. dean was the one holding her, but in her now-peaceful dreams, it was someone else, someone his opposite. someone fair and bright, someone not tainted by her madness. someone she wasn't afraid to love, the way she was with dean. as sleep finally overtook her, she felt that oddly-familiar name fall from her lips. the name that brought peace and love to her heart, even though she didn't know why. the name that promised her a better place, a better life. a name that promised her a home. a name that promised her forever.

"jack."

#ophelia.solo

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rylsolo · 6 years ago

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LIFE IS STRANGE: BEFORE THE STORM -- WRAP PARTY!

MESSAGE FROM KSENIA SOLO:

“Hey you beauties and gentle-beauties! I wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart for making my dreams come true by helping me to create this amazing masterpiece and I probably will totally cry when we wrap it up and cry even more when it’s all out and done... but hell, it’s gonna be good! So yeah, strap on, babes, because it’s about to get wild. Set your Saturday and Sunday free, because I can only imagine we’re gonna party until it’s dawning. We’ve got some special guests too, you know? The Combine’s very own Jeremy Renner is coming, which is super cool. Also my two Frenchmen, the creative minds behind this whole game (oh yes, the same two dudes who have been living in my house and bringing me crepes in the morning!) are also gonna be there right before they hit the plane back to France. Oh, and in case you were wondering about the music, Elena Tonra and the whole freakin’ Daughter band is gonna be for some live performances, it’s gonna be epic. So, get your punk-concert gear on as a nod to the Firewalk concert in the first episode! Let’s fucking trash this place!“

WHAT: Life Is Strange: Before The Storm wrap party. WHEN: The 9th of June, 2018 (Saturday), from 6 PM till late. WHERE: NotSoVirgin, Centre-Ville, Royal. DRESS CODE: Punk-rock concert. Come wearing the clothes you’d find yourself wearing if you were ever to head over to a concert of Pretty Vicious or something. Be chill, go crazy -- the choice is yours! INVITATION: Everyone’s invited, of course! However, there will be a VIP zone for the cast (with their optional plus ones) and the crew, in case the heat of the party gets a little too crazy.

THE LIST OF THE VIP ZONE INVITES:

Ashley Benson (Rachel Amber) || @rylbenzo + ONE Dianna Agron (Chloe Price) || @littlelambagron-d + ONE Frank Grillo (Damon Merrick) || @royalgrillo + ONE Alfie Enoch (Eliot Hampden) || NPC + ONE Angelina Jolie (Joyce Price) || @ryljolie + ONE Colin Farrell (David Madsen) || @rylcolin + ONE Sienna Miller (Sera Gearhardt) || @royalmiller + ONE Lana Parilla (Rose Amber) || @rlanaparrilla + ONE Jeremy Renner (Frank Bowers) || NPC + ONE Chris Evans (William Price) || @chrisnotcap-evans + ONE Zoe Kravitz (Drew North) || @rylkravitz + ONE Suzy Berhow (Steph Gingrich) || @royal-mortem3r + ONE Taron Egerton (Nathan Prescott) || @soutterlytaron + ONE Emma Watson (Victoria Chase) || @royalemmaw + ONE Gigi Hadid (Dana Ward) || @jelenagnoura + ONE Dan Avidan (Skip Matthews) || @rylavidan + ONE

STUFF TO SEE AND DO:

a twenty-five minute short film of what the cast and the crew got up to ‘behind the scenes’. the funniest moments of various bloopers and other never before scene shots.

the premiere of an original song, written by Ksenia Solo and Elena Tonra, performed by Dianna Agron.

free food, a huge ass cake and a special Arcadia Bay Concoction, which you certainly wouldn’t want to miss out on!

props and costumes charity auction -- all the profits goes to Salvation Army, which is getting ready for the 2018 hurricane season. come and help a great cause!

a live shooting of a music video that will be released right before the mini series premiere! paying an homage to Chloe Price and her love for her black marker, members of the cast will be joining in for a lyric music video for Youth by Daughter, which is a part of the upcoming soundtrack, inspired by Easy / Lucky / Free by Bright Eyes (you can find it here).

a lot of dancing and partying until the morning light!

OOC INFORMATION

babes, feel free to go wild! i’ve given you a few prompts for threads and possible paras in the list above, but mainly, this little event is here for you all to have a lot of fun, so just enjoy yourselves! love you all! is tomorrow gonna be epic? HELL YEAH!!

#rylevent #rylwork #&& | life is strange: before the storm.

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hartofbel · 6 years ago

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Para | Cold as Silver

Who: Jezebel Hart & Ainsley Corcoran ( @ainsley-corcoran ) What: Bingo + Knife Play Where: Ainsley’s suite, Room 208 When: Sunday; June 10, 2018

By the time Sunday rolled around, Ainsley the uncontrollable desire to reassert her nonexistent claim on Bel had started to ebb- though not disappear entirely- but she felt significantly more in control of herself. She’d always prided herself on her ability to keep a firm grip on her emotions, but when it came to the people she truly cared about, that ability was entirely unaccounted for and was instead it was replaced with a jealousy she’d only ever read about. After seeing Sawyer off, she pulled out the knife kit she’s ordered and began examining the shining blades, sliding the flat of it across her palm, and letting her mind get lost in thought as she waited for Bel to arrive.

Bel decided to start her Sunday by going for a naked run. While she was getting more comfortable with the whole being naked in public thing, there was still a ways for her to go before she was completely comfortable, which was why running when everyone else was still probably sleeping seemed the most appealing to her. As soon as her run was over, she quickly went back to her room to shower and pack an overnight bag along with the groceries she ordered for Ainsley’s meal. She was only right next door, but she still liked to be completely prepared to provide as little interruption in their time as possible. She pushed herself into Ainsley’s apartment, happy to find the door unlocked and made a beeline to where Ainsley was sitting in front of her knife set, kneeling in front of her. She pressed her head into the other Switch’s lap. “Hi, Miss.”

Ainsley was slightly startled by the sound of her front door swinging open, though any concern she felt was immediately replaced by a swell of affection in her chest. “Good morning, beautiful. You seem particularly chipper this morning,” She commented with a smile, setting down the knife she was holding and running her hand through Bel’s hair instead. The immediate show of submission was more reassuring than Ainsley thought it would be, but she certainly wasn’t going to question the good feeling that seemed to warm her from the inside out. “I must say, for as much as I like having the opportunity to undress you, arriving at my door already naked makes for an excellent surprise.” Licking her lips absentmindedly, her fingers trailed down to lightly trace over the prominent marks still littering Bel’s neck from their Friday lunch meet up. “Now, why don’t you put those groceries away, and then we can start, okay?”

Bel’s smile only widened at Ainsley’s greeting as she nodded in agreement to her comment. “I went for a naked run this morning and it was a lot more fun than I thought it would be. It was kind of like… freeing.” There was a slight hum at the feeling of Ainsley’s fingers pushing through her hair and she welcomed the small show of affection, as simple as it was. She felt safe and secure at Ainsley’s feet and it showed in how her whole body relaxed as the other Switch traced over the marks on her skin. She spent a good portion of the morning admiring Ainsley’s work and hoped that she would add to the collection before the day was through. Her body was covered in a tinge of pink at her words followed a flip in her stomach. She would never get tired of the compliments provided by Ainsley. “Well, it’s been kind of a naked weekend for me so I thought I’d just give into it for the day, especially since I knew I’d be with you all day.” Bel was reluctant to pull away from the comfort that was Ainsley, but she did as she was told, putting the groceries on the counter, making sure to refrigerate the things that needed to stay cold before returning to where she previously was. “Where and how would you like me, Miss?”

“That definitely sounds like an interesting experience, for sure. I’m sorry I missed it. I bet I’d make much better time during meets if I had you running in front of me without a stitch of clothing on.” Ainsley quipped with a grin, sitting back slightly as she watched Bel move around the kitchen with ease. The bright purple marks she’d left on the other girl the previous Friday seemed to stand out even more brightly under the harsh fluorescent lights, and she couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that settled on her face as she took a moment to just appreciate the view before her. “I certainly have no complaints about that. I’m almost tempted to keep you naked whenever you’re here, to be honest. It’s quite a compelling view.” As Bel returned to her former position, Ainsley finally gathered her things, excitement for the scene she had planned returning full force. “Go ahead and crawl into the guest room and then stand in front of the bed with your hands above your head.” Once she took her place as instructed, she bound Bel’s hands loosely, before raising them above her head resting them on a hook she’d installed in preparation for today. Ainsley wanted to make it a bit more difficult to for Bel move, hoping to head off any potential accidents occuring due to the girl’s to constantly be shifting around. “Not too uncomfortable, I hope?”

“Well we can definitely make plans for a naked run at a different time, Miss.” Bel allowed the confidence that had been running through her veins the past couple of days to continue shining though. “I wouldn’t have any complaints about that either, you probably know my body better than I do at this point.” She wondered if there was anything Ainsley would ask of her that she’d be able to say no to, so far her compliance rate for the other Switch was through the roof. Following Ainsley’s orders, she quickly crawled into the other room, standing in front of the bed and before she knew it, her hands were being lifted, bound, and placed on a hook. Bel shook her head at the question, testing her movement against the hook, impressed by how well it held her arms still. “It’s different, I like being able to stand up.”

Ainsley grinned, shaking her head slightly at the thought of the two of them racing across the grounds naked. “I may just have to add that to the refrigerator list, then.” A wave of satisfaction rolled through her at Bel’s admittance, her smile widening. “Well, once I decide on a subject to investigate, I do endeavor to learn everything as much as I can about it, keeping in mind there’s always something more that can be discovered.” She quipped her hand coming up to glide along the other girl’s body as she circled around behind her to examine her knives, picking up the one she’d been fidgeting with before Bel arrived. “Now, you’re not to move, understood? I don’t want any accidents. I’d like any marks I leave on you to be entirely intentional.” Her gaze flicked to the hickeys that littered Bel’s neck, still standing out brightly as when they were given the previous friday. “And of course, you’re both welcomed and encouraged to safe word at any time, should you feel the need.”

Bel smiled at the mention of their list that was situated safely and proudly on Ainsley’s fridge. It always gave her a good feeling when she saw it, just another testament to their connection, much like the window sill Bel had in her living room that was reserved for gifts from Ainsley. There was a shiver down Bel’s spine at her next words. She was always good with her hands and even better with her words and was probably the only person at the institute that was able to completely slay Bel with her words. “You can discover as much about me as you’d like.” It was as if the words were foreplay because as soon as Ainsley’s fingers danced across her skin, there was an immediate reaction. Bel pushed her body into the warmth that her hans provided stilling only when given the order to not move. “Yes, Miss.” She held herself still, relishing in the fact that there wasn’t the stimulation that usually accompanied the task to keep still, especially when she had to use some of her energy to remain standing. Her eyes were trained on the wall in front of her as she put all of her concentration into waiting patiently.

“I’m glad to hear that you’re amenable to that idea, because I definitely plan to.” From the strange curiosity she had about Bel the first time the messaged over spring break until now, Ainsley had learned so much about the other girl, but still she wanted to know more. With every new fact she discovered, three new questions would spring up in their place and she looked forward to find out each and every one of them. Humming in approval as she felt Bel’s body try to follow her hand, only to snap back into place on command. “That’s my good girl. Now, this might feel a little weird to start, but you’re not to move.” Recalling their first experiment with sensory play, she almost regretted not leaving the blades in the refrigerator ahead of time. “Stay calm, and trust I won’t hurt you, and I promise I’ll make you feel very good before this is all over.” Without another moment of hesitation, she let one hand rest on Bel’s hip- ready to stop any sudden movements she might make in surprise- while her right hand gripped the knife, sliding the blunt edge down the center of her back.

Bel was and had always been an open book but there were still some things that was easier to give to Ainsley, much like her trust. It didn’t take much to earn Bel’s trust, but there were few others she trusted as much as Ainsley Corcoran. And that much should have been clear by the calmness that she exhibited as Ainsley pressed the blade against her back. There was a sharp intake of breath as the coolness of the blade pressed into her skin and she held that breath in an attempt to stay completely still as instructed. There was a moment of panic for Bel, a moment where she imagined the sharp end of the knife pressing into her back and blood trickling down and dripping onto the backs of her legs. Her chest tightened and she had every desire to fall to the ground, but the hand on her hip brought her back to reality and she used all of her energy to focus on the safety the simple touch provided which then allowed her to hear Ainsley’s words and inwardly relax. She took deep breaths, making sure the movement was contained in her chest so the rest of her body could remain still. “I know, Miss. I trust you.”

Ainsley felt a surge of pride rush through her as Bel managed to stay still. She watched with a practiced eye as the other girl tensed briefly, heard the slightest change in breathing for a beat, before settling back down and returning to normal. “In an unsurprising turn of events, it seems I was right again. The contrast between your skin and the blade is absolutely beautiful.” She commented almost conversationally as she let the flat of the blade rest on the small of her back for just long enough for her to note the harsh temperature difference, before dragging it around to rest on Bel’s hip, stepping closer so that she was flush against the other Switch. Absently, she began to kiss and suck at the juncture between her neck and shoulder, before letting the blunt edge bite against the thin skin that stretched over her pelvis with a smirk, knowing that the mix of the two sensations was sure to garner some kind of reaction from the smaller girl, her other hand at the ready to help still Bel on the off chance she needed it.

Bel stared into the wall so hard, she was starting to see double. It took her a moment, but she remembered her time with Emerson and how freeing the blindfold made her so she opted to close her eyes so she could concentrate better on the sensations that Ainsley was providing, both with her words and the blade against her skin. With her eyes closed, she was able to zoom in on Ainsley, the way she felt up against her. And with the absence of one sense, the other four senses came to the forefront, especially those of touch and sound. She smiled at the comment about the blade against her and wondered if it had the same effect now that her skin was sure to be completely red. Her knees buckled at the feeling of Ainsley’s teeth sinking into her skin once more and while she thought she’d be accustomed to that feeling, it still took her by surprise. There was a slight change in her position, as she sunk just a tiny bit lower, unable to stop her reaction. While it brought her pain, she knew the reward of being able to admire the marks would make it all worth it. “More, please.” At this point, it was like her words didn’t belong to her.

There was a moment where it seemed like all of stress and nerves Bel seemed to be carrying seemed to fade away and Ainsley felt the bit of tension that she had been carrying followed suit, Bel’s trust in her grounding her. She chuckled at the other girl’s request, pleased that Bel seemed to be enjoying the experience as much as she was. She doubted the other Switch even knew what she was asking for, but somehow, she also felt sure knew exactly what she needed. “Patience, beautiful. Patience.” She murmured as she pulled away just enough to examine the fresh marks she’d just made, a satisfied smile coming to her face as they seemed to bloom with color before her eyes. Stepping around to her front slowly, she let the flat of the blade run up the length of her arm and across her shoulder, coming to settle the cool metal against her collarbone. Part of her was surprised Bel had let her eyes slip closed, but she wasn’t going to comment on it, instead letting her other hand coming up to tease a taut nipple with a mischievous grin.

Bel thought she’d been doing pretty good in the patience department, but it dawned on her that when it came to Ainsley, there was little to be had. Even as she felt the other Switch pull back and move to stand in front of her, she kept her eyes shut, wanting to concentrate on the touch and feel of the blade against her. As it traveled her body, she held her breath to ensure that she remained completely still and she didn’t release it until the blade stopped at her collar bone. The close proximity of the knife to her neck caused another surge of panic to flow through her, but she was better equipped to deal with it the second time and after a moment she was able to mentally quell her desire to pull away from the piece of steel. Ainsley’s hand moving up to pluck at her nipple served as the perfect distraction, rewarding Ainsley with a soft moan. With the contrasting sensations, Bell couldn’t control her body anymore as she pushed her legs together to ease the tension there.

Ainsley could practically see Bel’s thought process exhibited through her body language, and was incredibly proud that the other girl was able to quell her panic relatively quickly. “You’re doing such a wonderful job, good girl.” She cooed softly, pride evident in her tone, as she tapped the flat of the blade against the bone lightly. Ainsley could feel her own impatience growing, and a moment later, she circled back around her to select a new knife, one that was nearly identical to the first, but the metal felt much colder in comparison to the first one that had been warmed from being handled so much. Knowing the change in temperature was likely to startle the other girl, especially since her eyes were still closed, she took up her first position once more. “Now, spread your legs for me, Jezebel. Shoulder width apart.” She said, resting the cold metal on Bel’s lower stomach without warning, her other hand at the ready to pull her closer and limit her movement if she jerked in surprise.

Bel relished in the small bit of praise given to her by the other Switch, her chest expanding at the affection in Ainsley’s voice, relaxing her enough to keep her calm when the blade tapped her against her body. Even in the short absence of the blade, Bel managed to keep herself completely still as she anticipated Ainsley’s next move. She kept her eyes closed as she waited, liking how it felt to rely on her other senses, trying to pick up any clues she could without being able to see what was coming. She heard the soft thump of the knife being put down and the way Ainsley’s feet shifted on the floor which told her there was going to be a new sensation, she just wasn’t sure what. At her next instructions, Bel followed through, spreading her legs so that they were a shoulder width apart, nearly jumping at the sudden reappearance of the cool blade on her stomach. In the surprise, Bel let out a small giggle. “It’s cold again,” she said matter of factly.

“I swear, you are entirely too cute,” Ainsley said, chuckling lightly, before leaning forward to press a kiss to the back of Bel’s neck at the same time that the knife was set back on its blunt edge. Letting it drag up her torso, her free hand traced nonsensical patterns down her body, before coming around to cup her between her legs, rubbing the heel of her palm into her clit at the same time she scraped the the dull edge of the blade over her pert nipples, hoping the two sensations at the same time would draw out another reaction, especially since she’d determined that Bel wasn’t likely to move too much, even if she did end up surprised. “Don’t forget, gorgeous, no moving,” she murmured into her ear as she started stroking through her lower lips dipping into her pussy, before retreating to circle her swollen nub. “I want to see how well you can control yourself without me having to tie you up, first. Do you think you can manage that?” She asked, laying the flat of the blade between her breasts directly over her sternum.

Bel bit at her bottom lip at Ainsley’s compliment. She didn’t know if being cute was the desired adjective to be when in a situation like this, but she appreciated it all the same. Goosebumps spread out from where she felt the small kiss on the back of her neck, but she couldn’t give the sensation too much thought when she could feel the knife travel up her body till it flicked her nipple. That with the combination of Ainsley’s hand pressing against her sex caused a moan to erupt from her chest. There was a slight shift in her hips, but she managed to keep herself together for the most part, already knowing what the challenge was going to be before Ainsley presented it. “Yes, Miss. I think I can handle that.” She’d been doing well so far, all she needed to do was keep her eyes closed so she could focus on the task at hand. There was a small smile that she was able to predict her task but it was soon replaced with a look of surprise when Ainsley’s fingers dipped inside of her, only long enough to tease her before circling on her clit. It was the lack of warning that caused her knees to buckle and her body shook slightly, her hands also slightly moving the hook they were attached to. “Sorry, Miss. You caught me by surprise.”

Ainsley grinned at the response she was able to pull from the other girl, feeling as much as hearing her moan of approval. She was suddenly incredibly thankful that she stood a good few inches taller than Bel and had a pretty excellent vantage point over her shoulder to watch how she reacted- or rather, attempted not to react- to her touch. She could see the rippling of muscle as Bel struggled not to move, and a sly smile came to her face as she slipped her fingers into the other girl’s entrance, before pulling away once more. Shifting closer, Ainsley tried to steady her a bit, tutting slightly. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, since you’ve been doing so well up until now, Jezebel. But do keep in mind, only good girls earn rewards, and I would so hate to have to leave you all wet and wanting because you couldn’t control those naughty hips of yours.” Drawing the knife onto it’s blunt edge once more, she began to tap out a nonsensical rhythm against Bel’s sternum, before returning to flick at her nipples at the same time she pushed two fingers deep into her waiting pussy, her own patience wearing thin as her desire see how much Bel could take came to head.

Bel had been spending a lot of time working on controlling her body. Anyone who did a scene with her, especially Ainsley, knew how hard it was for her, but she was getting progressively better. At least she liked to think she was. She’d been learning how to use coping mechanisms to keep herself from moving. Ones that included closing her eyes or thinking about something else. Bel often wondered why it was so hard for her to keep her body still, to control it, and she came to the conclusion that she didn’t like having control over her body - she liked giving up that control, which probably why she preferred submitting to dominating. Still she didn’t want to disappoint, she she focused really hard on doing what was asked of her. She bit at her bottom lip and held her breath in an attempt to stay completely still. Her body was rigid, strained by her attempt to remain unmoved. Her face was a mixture of pain and pleasure as she could feel herself starting to get light-headed. As much as she wanted to give into the pleasure, she knew that would ruin her efforts, so instead she tried to focus on the strain in her neck and how she was biting her lip so hard she started to draw blood in hopes she could be a good girl for the other Switch.

Even from the angle she was standing at, Ainsley could practically see the war Bel was fighting etched on her face, and she winced slightly as she realized that the smaller girl had bitten down so hard that she’d drawn blood. But at the same time, she felt a swell of pride in her chest at how hard the other girl was trying, and at how much she’d improved since their first scene. “You’re doing such a good job for me, Jezebel.” She murmured into her ear, speeding up her thrusts as she dragged the blunt edge of the blade down her abdomen, “Can you hold on just one more minute for me?” Ainsley could feel how tightly wound the smaller girl was, could practically feel the tension rolling off of her in waves as she counted back from sixty. As she finally got to zero, she grinned widely as she let the tip of the knife play at her collarbones. She was careful never to press down too hard and was ready to pull it back at the first sign of movement from the smaller girl, but she had thought that added aspect of ‘danger’ would be just what Bel needed. “You’re such a good girl, Jezebel. I want you to cum for me now, okay?” She cooed as she added a third finger at the same time she began rubbing over her clit with her thumb. “Come on, sweet girl. Just let go. You’ve done such a good job for me.”

With all of Bel’s focus on trying to keep still and the strain it was causing on her body, Ainsley’s words seemed like an echo in the back of her mind. Yet, they still had the same effect on her and it only motivated her to keep it up. Though while it was appreciated, it also distracted her from her task and she gave into the way Ainsley’s fingers sped up. The pain and pleasure mixed in a way that caused the knot in her stomach to tighten and she knew her body well enough at this point to know that she wasn’t going to last much longer. The pent up tension only caused her teeth to bite into her lip only harder but she nodded at Ainsley’s question, not wanting her words to betray her at this point. Unsure of whether or not Ainsley meant an actual minute or a figurative one, she just waited for the go ahead from the other girl, holding out for as long as she could knowing that all of the pain and struggle would be worth it. She wasn’t lost on how close the knife was to her neck but the permission to finally let go surpassed the worry that the blade provided and she released a breath, which was accompanied by a loud moan. Her body shook in the wake of her orgasm as she was finally able to relax. Her body went limp and she was glad the hook attached to the restraints on her hands were able to keep her from falling to the floor.

Ainsley was genuinely impressed that Bel had managed to hold out as long as she had, and was glad they had done their scene early so that she’d have the rest of the day to take care of her. Bel’s orgasm was like the snapping of an overstretched spring, and she did her best to ease her down from her release, carefully sliding her fingers out and cupping her spent pussy protectively. Watching Bel orgasm was always one of Ainsley’s favorite sights, and this time was no different. She had to stop herself from actively seeking out any relief herself, trying to focus on the needs of the other Switch. “You’ve done so well, Jezebel, and I’m so proud of you.” She said, pressing soft kisses to the side of her face and her neck and back in between her murmurings of sweet nothings into her ear. Setting the knife aside at her first chance, Ainsley held the other girl a bit closer, supporting her as much as she could to take some of the weight off of her no doubt aching arms. She wanted to let her down, but she wasn’t sure Bel would be able to support herself at that point. “Hey, beautiful. Would it be okay if I picked you up and carried you into my room? I think you’ll be much more comfortable there, than here. And that way we can start working on getting you feeling much better. How does that sound?”

In the aftermath of her climax, there was a ringing in her ears that made Ainsley’s words seem muffled. Still, Bel understood every single one of them and she smiled at the praise she was receiving. She always enjoyed making Ainsley proud of her, but this time Bel worked harder than she ever had before, so the words of praise meant a lot more. “Thank you, Miss.” Her throat was dry causing a break in her voice and she swallowed roughly trying to wet her throat and winced at the taste of blood. She leaned into her Domme, letting herself relax for a bit, her arms aching from being held above her for so long. It took a moment for her body to catch up to her mind but eventually, she nodded at the other girl’s comment. “Yes, please.” Bel moved forward, putting her full weight on her feet so Ainsley could get her down. “I want cuddles, please. And a bath maybe?” Bel wasn’t sure exactly what would help make her feel normal again, she just knew she wanted to be warm. “Also, don’t forget I have to cook for you. Can I cook for you first, then lay down?” Her mind was in a haze and she felt extremely sleepy. Bel didn’t know what she needed and just hoped Ainsley would.

“That’s my good girl. You definitely get all the cuddles. And I’m sure a bath can be arranged once you’ve rested up a bit.” Once she felt Bel was stable enough, she moved around to her front, trying to maintain as much contact as possible as she lifted Bel’s hands down and scooped the smaller girl up in her arms. Between the additional exercises she’d been trying and the fact that the other girl was fairly small, she was able to get them into her bedroom without too much trouble. She had considered just staying in the spare room, but she’d left all of her aftercare supplies in her bedroom and she doubted Bel would want her to leave after such an intense scene. Retrieving a water and a granola bar, she set them beside her before stripping down and crawling in to the bed, lifting the bottle so that she could take a few sips. “I won’t forget, sweetheart, but you need to rest up a bit before you do anything else, okay? It’s only a bit after one, so we’ve plenty of time to take care of your square, okay? I’ll set an alarm for a few hours, but you need to let your body recuperate, first.” As soon as Bel seemed to drink as much as she could, Ainsley took her into her arms and cuddled closer, feeling exhaustion begin to set in. “Once we wake up, I’ll draw you a bath, and then after you can make us dinner. How does that sound?”

Bel smiled at the promise of the reward of cuddles and a bath, making the soreness in her arms worth it. She was more than ready to attempt walking to wherever Ainsley would guide her, but when she felt Ainsley’s arms wrap around her, she gave in immediately, wrapping her arms around the Switch’s neck as she brought her into the other room. Bel didn’t even bother pulling the blankets up onto herself, she just curled up on her side, facing inside of the bed as Ainsley moved about the room. When prompted, Bel took a few sips of water, spilling some on the bed as she did. After wiping up the spilled water with her fingers, she focused on laying down again. Now that she was comfortable and calm, she was able to focus a little better and she nodded in agreement at Ainsley’s words. A nap didn’t sound like a bad idea at all, especially when she felt the other woman’s arms wrap around her. She sighed contently, tucking her face in the crook of Ainsley’s neck. “Okay, Miss. That sounds okay.”

#gleedsmbingo2 #ainsley's card: 2c #ainsley #para: ainsley #para: cold as silver

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pledgedsouls · 4 years ago

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General RP style and preferences

Repost, don’t reblog. Bold what applies. Strikethrough what does not. Elaborate on any points you’d like.

Please be honest, we all want to find the people who work best with how we RP.

Types of RP / How I do threads

Plotting Preferences

| Wing it* | Get a general idea ooc and then run with it & plot further if need be | Long expansive thought out story arcs |

* = Introductions and first meetings

Type of threads I do / Prefer

* only for crack and dash shenanigans

Reply Speed for Threads & Consistency & Keeping threads

* All my blogs mostly run off the queue so I don’t get burned out. If you don’t like this/it doesn’t work with your own reply schedule and you mostly do whatever you see on dash at the moment, it is likely we won’t be suitable RP partners for each other. Also, sometimes the queue is even slower than usual depending on IRL stuff.

I’m usually quite good at keeping track of replies, my thread tracker is here, and I keep it pretty well updated unless it's the first reply of something. If you ever don’t see a thread of ours, please let me know! The link for all the trackers is in the pinned post of each of my blogs as well.

Romantic or sexual ships

| I don’t do these ships (specify reason if you would like)* | I’m not against them happening but it is not the main point of my blog | All ships will have to be super slow burn & discussed a lot OOC, super chemistry based (specify reason if you’d like) | I love doing ships, HMU I probably already ship it just ask! | I ship really quickly | I autoship or ship within a few interactions | I mainly RP for the cute ship fluff or smut |

*Only NOTPs on this blog are any Ignis with human characters, Emma with any of the non-adult characters from vrains obviously (Yusaku, Aoi, etc). Gozaburo is no shipping of this manner. Jounouchi is no romantic shipping. Please respect that he’s Aromantic, but not asexual.

Smut

| I do NOT do smut at all (specify reason if you’d like)* | I’m very selective about it | I only do it on a separate (blog/discord/specify here*) | I mainly only do asks relating to the subject on Sundays | I write it a medium amount | I write it all the time and love to |

* I swear to god no one ever approach me for Ignis smut, I will bolt. No, I don’t care that Ai has an android form.

Active hours [Specify Timezone, if you’d like]

I’m in EST / GMT - 4:00. Someone make me fix my sleep schedule please.

Activity Schedule

| SUPER slow and sporadic, like once a month or so | Slow and sporadic week long gaps between activity | Bi-weeklyish activity | Weekly activity (specify if there’s a certain time you have school/work/etc. off that you are most active) | Daily activity | I’m online nearly all the time* |

*I do at least have a tab open most of the time.

Starters

* I’m almost always digging myself out of a pile of drafts and usually default to memes. But basically if were mutuals you can always drop into IMs or my inbox and ask me for a starter or to plot <3

AUs

| I don’t do AUs | My blog is an AU but outside of that* I don’t do them | I sometimes do them but only with a lot of plotting | I have a couple of AUs already feel free to request them!** | I have AUs coming out of my ears please interact with them! | I love making AUs HMU to plot if you think of one! | There are some AUs I won’t do (specify here)*** |

* The ignis are within an AU themselves due to them being...well alive lmao. Yugi’s plotline completely revolves around his AU. ** I need to update the pages, but Rose has a verse in the demon AU and mafia AU over on the Kaiba Bros’ blog. *** I don’t care for arranged marriage AUs or plot lines, or really anything that mostly revolves around something romantic or sexual. Soulmate AUs are another thing I’m not big on.

Crossovers

| I don’t do crossovers (specify reason if you’d like)* | I’m selective with crossovers (specify reason if you’d like)* | I love crossovers! |

* Interacting with a vastly different fandom such as a live action one tends to give me a bit of whiplash, especially if the icons are real people, but that’s not a flat out “no” for every situation. I’d deal with it on a case by case basis, so if in doubt, just ask!

#(dash games)#ooc: Mew mews

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scathachthescarredwarrior · 5 years ago

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To my dearest and special one, you might have thought that I forgot to greet you on this day. Greeting you late this night is intentional. It is because at this particular time, 10:40 pm on the 12th of February, 2015, your eyes were set on me. It is at this very same moment last year when you had planned to enter the realms of my out of the ordinary life and personality.

I would like you to know that I am so grateful for the every single inch you come closer to me. I appreciate your efforts no matter how great or little these are.

Thank you for that night when you stayed in my Facebook account, attached your eyes to every photos I have, and almost stalked me through all of my posts.

Thank you for you had the guts to chat with me the next day although our very first serious topic was 'Aliens'. I will always remember how I knew that you were so anxious about what to reply, how to have an interactive conversation, and how to make every thing sensible. You even had your three captains, as you called them, your "love coaches". I still remember the night you panicked when you had found out that I deactivated my account. You were so paranoid if whether you did/said something wrong or if it was my signal that I want you to stop.

Before I sleep, I always loved it whenever you called me at night. Talking about random things until the wee hours of the morning. Your voice was such a lullaby, so soothing that it relieved me and cradled me in calmness. Not just that, you were so consistent calling me in the morning to say - "Good morning, Papsy!" over the phone.

We had used almost all means to talk with each other. The most memorable moments we had were shared via Viber, during our 'Viber era'. I loved it when we talked about petty stuffs but still enjoyed each other's nonsense chats. From the petty ones to planning our future! That moment flabbergasted me for that was the very first time I did that in front of and with a man.

I will always cherish our very first meet up, April 4, 2015. I was nervous of what to wear, conscious about my pimples, and other frivolous details. Nevertheless, it was totally nostalgic because at the very moment you reached Jumbo Jenra Dau, God had given you your first sign. The song 'Para sa Akin' was being played. You called me right away to let me listen to it. Your excitement emanated from you with every word you had uttered. So, I was trying to conceal my anxiety through a smile. Yet, you were so natural! You didn't stop staring at me during the entire trip we had on a jeepney going to San Fernando. We attended a Sunday celebration. Right after the service, another sign you had asked God was given to you. Despite the hot weather, it rained that day. You were teary-eyed for that second blessing to you.

Always remember that I value everything you do. From the minute ones - the moments you touch my hair and comb it even if it takes a long time to disentangle strands of my hair; you put on my socks and tie my laces; you would fetch water for me even when you're too drowsy. Your little acts are always the sweetest! To the greatest ones - staying late at night selling to earn money for our quality times; setting aside your ego to have enough resources for us; pushing your tricycle when unexpected circumstances happen and letting me sit inside the side car but I will never get tired of helping you push it...we'll always be together through thick and thin; tolerating my "multiple personalities" even though 'they're' hard to handle; and so much more!

I will stop here. I may not have listed everything but it doesn't mean I have forgotten some of our memories. I will always look back to these memories as our strands of hair turn grey. And I would love reading our letters and travelling back from the very beginning as we watch the sunset of our lives.

Happy first #AnnivMeetsary! Hihihihi.

#c3 #1225

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drscotcheggmann · 7 years ago

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Pokémon the Movie: I Choose You Review & Wider Reflections

On Sunday afternoon I went to see Pokémon the Movie: I Choose You. As a longtime fan since Generation 1, the thirteen year old boy still hiding inside this now thirty year old man (sometimes not all that well hidden) was nothing short of buzzing; but while excitement was running high as the lights dimmed and the curtain went up, at the same time I wasn’t really sure what to expect. I knew what I wanted: a huge slice of nostalgia; to be transported back to the late 90s, a reminder of when my love for these little monsters was still in its infancy; a warm, tingling Thundershock of a hug from Pikachu and the gang. But would this be what I would get? Would the film alter or even damage my memories of watching the original Animé all those years ago? Getting up early before school, willing to forgo breakfast to make sure I’d watched the latest episode. Some will say “Get over yourself and stop being so precious”, arguing that no matter if good or bad, those golden mornings watching Mew dance across the screen as the ridiculously infectious theme tune rose to crescendo shouldn’t be and can never be touched by watching this one film. Yeah, that’s all well and good in theory but it’s never nice having a half baked reimagining or rehash of something classic seemingly shit all over your childhood. And this was a slight worry because....I’d heard things. That Brock and Misty had been ditched for two other male and female companions. That the movie was only loosely based on the original Animé and might stray from what longtime fans like me might expect. It’s always the longtime fans that feel most entitled, whether it be video-gamers, movie buffs or Pokémaniancs. So as Ash’s Mum comes in to wake her long sleeping son, dreaming of his future adventures in the early hours of his tenth birthday, the weight of expectation was weighing on my mind. But. I’m pleased to say that this longtime, entitled, nostalgia crazed Pokémon fan had nothing but a huge smile on his face when all was said and done. I would go as far as to say that I left the movie theatre, mentally waving my arms in delight, like a Togepi on speed. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t perfect and it didn’t tick all of my own personal boxes but sitting at the end watching the credits roll, I realised that it didn’t have to. Looking around me as the lights went up I realised that it was about more than just me and all of the other Gen 1 superfans sitting there in the semi darkness (and I would wager there were quite a few of us)! Let me explain. WARNING: FULL SPOILERS AHEAD. Something for the Oldies The movie tells a story which is, at its core, rooted in the original Animé. Ash, a regular 10 year old boy living in a world inhabited by Pokémon, dreams of one day becoming the greatest Pokémon Master (yes, the greatest Pokémon master, not trainer). Ever. Like no one ever was (sorry, couldn’t resist). And in this fact alone, the film lavishes longtime fans with nostalgic riches at every turn. From Ash’s frantic dash out of the house (he doesn’t seem to shower at any point before setting off, as noted by my cynical cinema going companion), to those first wonderfully endearing moments of love hate interplay between Ash and Pikachu, it’s all just ‘kid in a sweet shop’, ear to ear smile inducing stuff. Another thing that struck me as a fan from the beginning is that I’ve never seen so many Gen 1 Pokémon in such a short space than in this movie. As Ash tumbles off a cliff into a river clutching Pikachu, a murmuration of angry Spearow in pursuit, a snarling Gyarados darts downstream in what is a near miss for our hapless duo (but at least he has a wash in the river). Pinsir prowl the forests, people can be seen strolling down streets and indoors with their Pokémon at heel. A slumbering Onix is provoked into pursuing our group of heroes. Nidoran of both genders, a Sandshrew and a Paras are all led into a cave to shelter from the rain by a certain legendary dog (more about them later). At one point, I even had to laugh as Ash approaches the summit of the mountain towards the end of the film, only to be greeted by an audience of exclusively Gen 1 Pokémon: Graveller, Venomoth, Golbat, Nidoqueen, Nidoking, Magnemite, Magneton, Electabuzz and Magmar. You wonder if some of these even belong on a bloody mountain but this is the love the filmmakers are keen to show those fans of the earliest generation. A clear message: ‘Here we are! The originals. Back in all our glory again’. And the effect of this is wonderful. I actually began to go through how many of the original 151 Pokémon I hadn’t seen. There were still quite a few but not as many as you’d think. And it’s not only Gen 1 that seems to get that special treatment. Gen 2 is just as lovingly captured. Ho-Oh is the Gen 2 Pokémon at the heart of Ash’s quest in the movie, a quest which was never realised in the original anime but still has its roots there, as Ash spots Ho-Oh flying over the rainbow in the very first episode. But there are others too. The legendary dogs, Raikou, Suicune and Entei all feature, the latter most prominently. When I say prominently I mean this in the most literal sense for Entei - he’s the size of a freakin’ house! There’s even a glimpse of Lugia as the film draws to a close. As a longtime fan it’s great to see all of these guys on the big screen again but I’m also quite honestly glad that the movie did not become an exercise in crowbarring in every legendary Pokémon across the generations, just for the sake of it. Arguably seeing all 3 legendary dogs, who are so incredibly rare that hardly anyone ever encounters them, is a bit much but I was ok with this. It’s not all about the legendaries though; the not so legendary Pokémon spanning all generations are well represented. That first moment when I saw a non Kanto Pokémon alongside a Kanto one and the realisation that this wasn’t a world totally rooted in Kanto. It was great, despite my Gen 1 bias. It really showed how far the Pokémon phenomenon has come over the years and that the filmmakers weren’t afraid to lay out all their wares and risk upsetting those wanting a solely Gen 1 affair. What’s there to be upset about anyway? We all love Pokémon, right? Classic Pokémon from numerous generations are one thing but it’s the set pieces from the Animé that I still remember fondly today and some of these have been reimagined in this iteration of one of Ash’s adventures in Kanto. A clever use of the slightly jazzier (but not necessarily better) theme tune advances Ash’s journey as far as Erika’s Gym, but not before we see him catch his very first Pokémon in the form of Caterpie. We see those initial struggles (and shocks) with Pikachu, the Charmander left out in the rain and Butterfree’s departure to the spawning grounds, presumably to do some spawning with his female companion (can we not even say ‘mating’ anymore?). These set pieces are either bang on the money in terms of paying homage to the original or are slight twists on the original formula (most notably, the Charmander arc). Unfortunately for me, Butterfree’s departure to pastures new didn’t really have the same gravitas here as it did in the original Animé. I think the reason for this is partly due to the time constraints of the movie and that we don’t really get to see Ash’s relationship with Butterfree develop in any sort of meaningful way, except for seeing Caterpie evolve into Metapod and then into Butterfree. The tears flooding down Ash’s face, while they served as a call back to what was a particularly heartbreaking farewell in the Animé, just didn’t have the same punch. But perhaps without a direct comparison, this wouldn’t be an issue at all. Regardless, it’s still a touching monument, showing the deep and lasting bond humans form with their Pokémon; perhaps one of the best outside Ash’s relationship with Pikachu, which shines as brightly as it ever did despite having only 90 or so minutes to show it. And it’s perhaps because it seeks to wow its audience with so many of these individual moments, both past glories and new, that the movie feels a little disjointed in places. At times the action moves on a little too quickly, leaving no room for character development beyond the high octane chase/fight we have just witnessed. Consequently I didn’t feel that the synergy was quite there between Ash, Sorrel and Verity. Marshadow on the other hand is well deployed, being introduced gradually as the movie progresses. I actually thought that using Marshadow as the primary Pokémon antagonist was a good move as opposed to the likes of Darkrai or something a little more obviously evil looking. Marshadow’s ability to seem innocent enough but to pack a few punches when backed into a corner was well done, even if Marshadow isn’t a Pokémon just for the fans of yester year. But this is ok. More on why is coming. Team Rocket make their appearance as you would expect but maybe not in quite the way I expected. If anything, Team Rocket are fringe players here. There is no grand and bombastic entrance with the Team Rocket signature jingle; in fact, I can’t recall a moment when Ash and his friends actually come into direct contact with Jesse, James and Meowth. There doesn’t seem to be much of a grand plan from Team Rocket: they want Entei, then abandon that and go after Ho-Oh but are always thwarted without our heroes ever knowing, either propelled into the air or disappearing off the side of a mountain and always into a glinting star denoting that they might not be back for a while. But they do keep coming back, which is fine, but to no great effect. It’s all a little bizarre and you can’t help but feel, having watched the original Animé, that they could’ve been put to better use rather than simply be made to seem even more ridiculous than they already are. To the movie’s credit though (and this sounds like I’m wanting to have my cake and eat it here), the filmmakers don’t beat us over the head with Team Rocket, as was sometimes the case in the Animé. I remember physically sighing and rolling my eyes at times when Team Rocket would appear and break the flow of a perfectly good episode. The XY Animé moved away from this thankfully but I suppose it was nice to not have Team Rocket dominate, despite also being a tad underused. For longtime fans (or certainly for this one), there were one or two other things missing that, while they didn’t detract massively from the overall experience, just would’ve been nice and not too much trouble to implement. For one, although Ash seems to be largely the same character as I remember, here he comes across as even more gung ho and sure of himself than usual, to the point of actually losing some of the naivety that made him so endearing in the first place. At no point in the film does he whip out the Pokédex, looking confused and saying ‘What’s that?’ as he spots a Pokémon he’s never encountered before. Indeed, there is no Pokédex AT ALL as far as I can remember, just like the one so ceremoniously presented to Ash by Professor Oak in the Animé. There is a smartphone though which Verity uses to take pictures (sigh). Not even Kanto is free from the reaches of modern tech it seems. The lack of Pokédex and ‘what’s that?’ moment made me a little sad as Ash’s confusion was once my confusion, as a 13 year old sitting in front of the TV, pre widespread internet and readily available lists of information, wondering what this new and wonderful Pokémon Ash had just run into actually was. And then running into school to chat wildly with my friends about it - “Did you see this morning’s episode?! That was awesome!” I still remember the original speculation about who the Pokémon at the beginning of the theme tune was and why it wasn’t part of the original 150. Ash’s naivety was mirrored in my own. Don’t get me wrong, Ash is still green around the gills in the movie, pushing Pokémon to their limits at times without fully knowing their capabilities or strengths. But maybe the absence of this wide eyed naivety, even if only a little, struck me so much as I’m not that naive young person anymore. Someone who lives in a different world where information is at our fingertips and there is no excuse for not knowing. I’m digressing slightly here but it did make me think about the then and now. But perhaps the movie’s most striking departure from the Animé is the absence of some key figures. Brock, Misty, Officer Jenny. I understand that maybe 90 or so minutes just wouldn’t be enough time to make Ash’s relationship with Brock and Misty believable, especially when Ash’s relationship with Pikachu should be centre stage. I know that the movie is really only a side quest in Ash’s overarching journey. A snapshot of his travels on his way to glory. But a small cameo would’ve been nice. Fighting a gym battle in Pewter or Cerulean City, especially since the only gym battle we see is beyond this point chronologically and so it’s not a case of Ash having not run into Brock and Misty yet. Ash’s direct rival, Cross left me feeling a little dissatisfied too. What was wrong with good ‘ol Gary. Even though Cross goes from Pokémon masochist to seeing that there’s more to the whole Pokémon thing than ruthless ambition, he’s still a bit of an ass when he goes his own way, despite the fact he owes Ash (and Charizard) his life. The Charizard he abandoned as a Charmander. The bastard. Yeah, he wasn’t my favourite. Let’s leave it at that. Something for the Newbies While you may think that because I’ve spent the last section of this review picking at this bit and that bit and perhaps making unfair comparisons to the Animé days, I just want to reiterate: I loved the movie, imperfect as it was. I loved it for all of my own reasons, some of which I’ve mentioned and some I’m yet to mention but also for other people’s reasons too (bear with me on this one). For as I watched the audience file into the cinema (and I saw absolutely everyone file in, having been über keen in arriving half an hour early), I began to realise that the Gen 1, diehard Pokémon fan wasn’t going to be the only type of Pokémon fan represented. I’m talking about the kids, of course. Kids ranging in age from 4 to 14. The younger ones especially excited to be seeing their favourite Pokémon on the big screen for the first time. One particular Mum and Dad ushered their two young daughters to their seats, one carrying a Squirtle and the other with a Charmander tucked under one arm and an Eevee peeking out of her bag dangling off the other arm. This is a whole new wave of Pokémon fans, all of whom weren’t even born when Ash first set foot out the door and the Gen 1 hype was thriving. And I can’t overstate how much this is a great thing to behold. That the love of Pokémon is still running strong some twenty plus years later. And that’s of course thanks to Pokémon moving with the generations. Literally. I know I’ve been banging on about how wonderfully Gen 1 is represented in I Choose You but in actual fact the movie does a great job of pleasing fans of all generations. If you grew up with Piplup as a starter, you’ll be happy to see that little guy flapping about onscreen; Lucario is perhaps one of the most recent Gen Pokémon to be embraced by both old and new fans alike and he’s here by Sorrel’s side in all of his hard assed glory. And even if you just dived into the world of Pokémon last November with the release of Sun & Moon, there’s plenty to keep you happy here. Marshadow appears and disappears, Cross’s midnight Lycanroc is broodingly evil at all times, and Incineroar, while low down on my favourite starter evolution list, will have younger fans especially bicep flexing and fist pumping in delight. Personally I would’ve loved to have seen Decidueye unleash the full extent of his ghost/grass power, being what I feel is the most impressive starter final evolution in generations but the fight with Charmeleon would then not have been a fair one. Again, to hammer home my slight bias for the original 151, I was glad to see Charizard kick Incineroar’s ass in the end, not just in terms of satisfying the movie’s story but also as a mini victory of Charizard, THE ultimate fire starter Pokémon of all generations for many, over Incineroar, who I feel would look better placed on the side of a cereal packet. Rarrr! That was a bit catty but yeah, he’s just not a favourite of mine but I’m totally fine with these younger generations cheering him on. I did actually force my eyes to leave the action now and again during the screening, as I sometimes do, just to see if everyone else is enjoying the action as much as me. Of course there were the parents, some of them maybe older fans like me but there were an equal if not greater number of bemused parents whose faces seemed to be struggling to grasp what all the fuss was about. But I salute these parents for giving up a chunk of their Sunday afternoon for the sake of their young Pokémaniacs. And what a wonderful sight it was to see this new generation of Pokémon fans hanging on Pikachu’s every ‘Pika’. One little boy stood up through majority of the film, clutching and peering over the empty seat in front, so obviously brimming with excitement. Someone somewhere in the darkness screamed a giddy ‘Pika-pi’ at one point, causing a fair few chuckles. Another child sitting along my row had an expression of pure awe etched on their face the whole time and I can completely understand why: imagine seeing the Legendary dogs for the first time; not just onscreen but EVER. Imagine seeing Ho-Oh for the very first time, gliding over that rainbow; imagine hearing the names Articuno, Zapdos & Moltres, as they were mentioned at the movie’s conclusion, and thinking to yourself ‘I wonder who they are?’ and then rushing out of the cinema to look them up and find out. Oh, to be young again and see it all with fresh eyes. Something for Everyone So far I’ve tried to look at how I Choose You might appeal to the older generation of Pokémon fans as well as the new. But although I’ve painted a picture of distinct camps of Pokémon fans, the movie does a great job of bringing fans from all corners together thanks primarily to its rich visual aesthetic. Everyone can appreciate the sun drenched vistas, rainswept plains, snow capped mountains, billowing clouds drifting over fields filled with flowers dancing in the wind, dense forests and buzzing metropolises so vividly and vibrantly depicted; each area alive with Pokémon just waiting to be discovered, caught and loved. The visual feast starts and continues unabated to the end, never more so than in the Pokémon battles which have never looked sharper and more dynamic. Charizard zooms into the air with a menacing elegance; Pikachu nimbly dodges this way and that, all before landing a thundershock attack of seismic proportions; you can almost feel the flames lick your face as Entei or Incineroar unleash a frightening flamethrower blast; and some of the Marshadow-possessed Pokémon’s attacks land onscreen with the megatonne force of an atomic bomb, or so it seems, also offering a stark contrast between the affectionate side of Pokémon and their über aggressive side when given the chance. It’s all lovely to watch and your senses aren’t allowed a moment’s rest. And that goes for your emotions too. In keeping with the willingness of some of the more recent video game entries in the series to explore powerful and often dark themes, I Choose You also does not shy away from putting its audience through the emotional grinder (the dark lore threads in Sun and Moon are especially worth reading about; I still think about that abandoned Stuffl). There’s neglect (Charmander in the rain), physical pain (Lycanroc biting Cross and not letting go, something that shocked me particularly for some reason), the dangers of greedy ambition (as Ash ponders if Pikachu would’ve won the fight which his Charmeleon just lost). The latter is particularly interesting if we consider the end of the movie; we see Ash finally battling Ho-Oh and the scene cuts to a long shot of the battle taking place from afar, represented by flashes of light on the mountainside. But we never actually find out if Ash managed to catch Ho-Oh or even come close, despite seeing Pikachu looking a little worse for wear as Ash delivers him to the Pokémon Centre after the battle. And this is ok, because we don’t really need to. Arguably, Ash’s greatest adversary isn’t Marshadow or Cross; it’s himself, as he has to put aside all of his own ambitions to save his friends and his beloved Pikachu. Some may perceive this uncertainty over Ho-Oh as quite unsatisfying but Ash’s willingness to let Ho-Oh go might point to him growing and realising there is more to his journey than ruthless ambition. Viewed like this, I find this ending very satisfying and think that had Ash done a pompous and over the top victory dance having caught Ho-Oh, this would not have been tonally in keeping with what we have just seen: everyone escape with their lives narrowly and Ash come back from the dead (or a state of semi death at least in an alternate reality). I’m glad that Ash emerges at the end of the movie better off having not had a moment like this. The Pokémon Centre Lady’s ‘That’s nice’ when Ash tells her they’ve just been battling Ho-Oh is perfect in showing that the result of that battle (caught or not) doesn’t really matter. And, most importantly, Ash seems ok with it too. I would go as far as to say he looks pleased to have had the opportunity to battle Ho-Oh, caught or not and Pikachu having lost. We can see he’s come a long way. Ash’s brush with death is incidentally not the only occasion that the movie is happy with testing its audience. I sat wide eyed as I watched that Luxray found dead in the snow, frozen, trying to protect its infant owner from the fate it ultimately suffered itself. This idea that Pokémon are dispensable yet indestructible; that they can be pushed to the limit with few consequence that a Pokémon Centre wouldn’t be able to fix. With Luxray’s onscreen death, this notion is shattered in an instant and the world the movie seeks to flesh out is made all the more real and believable for it; a tenderness and bond exists between people and their Pokémon which shouldn’t be scoffed at. And, in closing out this section of the review, that bond between person and Pokémon is hammered home no better as Ash and Pikachu part into different worlds, at the tail end of the movie. That moment as they lie face to face and Pikachu speaks. PIKACHU SPEAKS. I actually thought I was hearing things. The minute I saw it I knew this would be a scene to divide opinion. The cynical side of me initially thought this was an easy pull on the heart strings. The Pokémon equivalent of Jack and Rose. But it’s actually much more than this. Having begun watching the original Animé, I’ve been used to Pikachu communicating with Ash by way of facial expression or tonal variations on the same word or half word for nigh on 20 years. But to actually hear what the little guy truly thinks of his partner, that he never wants to leave his side. I’m going to level with everyone reading this. A tear welled up in my eye. The fact that Pikachu never wants to leave Ash’s side wasn’t exactly a revelation I admit but to allow something like this to happen by way of them sharing different realities and one of which being situated a stone’s throw away from death. It was beautiful. It won’t win and Oscar and some won’t think it was anywhere near as impactful as I’m describing. Some will think that it probably wasn’t necessary at all, seeing as a trainer’s bond with their Pokémon seems to transcend language. But, to put forward the most compelling argument for the scene’s inclusion, this is arguably what gives Ash the push he needs to transcend death and push out of that nether realm. Not for himself, but for Pikachu who he would be leaving alone otherwise. Aww man, I can feel the tears coming all over again. Joking (or not) over tears aside, the willingness of the Pokémon universe, both in film and video game media, to engage with what are uncomfortable topics, gives me lots of hope for the future. I still hope for a more adult fan orientated game in which our hero feels like he or she is in genuine peril or at risk of death (I don’t think I fainted once in Pokémon Moon!), a game which makes fans confront real world problems but then allows us to eventually overcome them. I know I’ll be hoping for a long time, as Gamefreak would be unlikely to make such a move and risk alienating such a huge demographic represented by the series’ youngest fans. But, on the flip side, I wouldn’t want this alienation to happen either. The fact that the movie was able to articulate some of these themes and do so in such a way as to make it palatable for younger viewers is a triumph in itself. Those wide eyed children in the audience of my screening were the proof of the pudding and long may it continue. Conclusion I really enjoyed I Choose You. Even though the movie wasn’t perfect, it did one thing really well for me personally: it affirmed my love of Pokémon, as if that really needed any affirmation in the first place. It reminded me just why I fell in love with everything Pokémon in the first place and why that loves has endured until today. The world of Pokémon and the simple but powerful messages it communicates are timeless: that someone seemingly insignificant can achieve great things and make a difference; that we should all step out of the front door and pursue our dreams; that we can rely on our friends and family for support along the way. Never have these messages been more relevant and important than in the shitstorm of a world we live in today and it’s always nice to be reminded that this is the other side of what humanity is capable of, even if that reminder does come from a fictional world filled with fictional creatures. Such is the power of art and fiction. I’ll finish here with a reflection on a scene from the movie which really made me pause and think (to the point where I nearly missed the five minutes of the onscreen action that followed). The scene is when Ash first succumbs to Marshadow’s dark seduction and is taken to an alternate reality where Pokémon don’t exist. He leaps out of bed, a poster on his bedroom wall of a blue car, a red car and a green car in place of Blastoise, Charizard and Venusaur. He’s late to school that day, not for Professor Oak’s lab. Just regular, boring old school. He looks out the window as he sits daydreaming in class , glimpsing Ho-Oh gliding high above, except it’s not Ho-Oh at all but an aeroplane. And when he questions what is beyond the confines of the school fence, we hear something along the lines of: towns, forests, fields, more towns, forests, fields and then the ocean. What is essentially being shown, described and imagined by Ash is a world without Pokémon. A drab, boring and monotone world which lacks a layer of purpose. Quite ironically, this is our reality. Real life. I remember sitting as a kid and thinking that the coolest thing in the world would be if Pokémon were real. To be caught, trained and loved. To some extent a virtual version of this was achieved via Pokémon Go but the initial hype has died down. I knew then, as a kid, and I know now that there won’t ever be anything approaching what Pokémon does in the real world but this scene in a Pokémonless alternate reality got me thinking about the wider implications of this being communicated (and I think intentionally) by the filmmakers. Imagine a world, this shitstorm of a world we live in, WITHOUT something as wonderful as Pokémon, even if they are only virtual monsters living on our screens. This phenomenon which has brought and continues to bring so many people together, be it via the TCG, games or Animé. The phenomenon which was a huge part of my childhood and is something I engage with in some way every single day as a grown man. Imagine if all of that didn’t exist and never had done. It’s a frightening thought and as Ash snapped out of his alternate reality and I came back to mine, I gave thanks for the enduring charm and appeal of Pokémon. The fact that I was sitting in that cinema seat almost twenty years on, still enjoying everything the Pokémon universe has to offer is something that I’m so pleased the film allowed me to experience and feel and give thanks for. Thank you for the memories, Pokémon and here’s to the memories still to be made. My final parting piece of advice: stay beyond the credits. A few shorts, a goosebump-inducing rendering of the initial start sequence to the original Pokémon games on Gameboy and a beautiful piano arrangement of the Pokémon Animé theme tune. A shout out also to @brayshgaming - I hope he particularly enjoyed the Noivern clip but also hope that it isn’t now a regular feature in his nightmares. There is no escape! Thanks for reading guys. Comments on my reflections are most welcome and I’d love to hear some of your own thoughts about the movie. This review was written solely from my memory of watching the movie (and thanks to lots of frantic jotting down of ideas the moment the lights went up, while they were still fresh in my mind). There may therefore be some inaccuracies in here which I cannot yet verify without watching the movie again. Apologies if so.

#pokemontcg #pokemon #ichooseyou #pokemoncollector #pokemonmovie #pikachu

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dancekickboxcardio · 5 years ago

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I actually had a good day yesterday. I was mean because all the angry 😡 energies was still in me fighting with my Dad over a simple request, “Can you drop me off to Lifetime after appointment with doctor 🥼 ?” He began to yell and shut me down. I am like. Why don’t you think 🤔 about it first? Actually process it and problem solve about it instead of insisting whatever set way you have if it is not an issue of control. I told Laura yesterday. She had a lot of nervous 😬, speedy, reactive, fighting energy that I started slow but I finished peppy. Dance 💃🏼 really improves my mood by I shall quote L’Tan “1000% of her energy ⚡️.” This was me exiting the gym 🏃🏼‍♀️ 💪🏾 .

I am still confrontational but less severe don’t you think 💭. I am more of a mess went through a lot and a little curious. I told Mark Consuelo to smile 😃 yesterday. He had a face. I’ll let him be. He’s such a chips and beer 🍺 guy. Mmmmhm.

I am hot 🥵 and apparently the air in my room is already to my set temperature 🌡. I am up early. My Google mini 🔊 played at 600a and I shut it off right away. I laid in bed 🛌 awake as I waited for 700a. I gave my cats 🐈 🐈 🐈 affection 😘 ♥️ 🤗 and made espresso ☕️. I am actually hungry 😋. Fit Americano actually does the trick. It should be no surprise because there is protein powder in it. I decided I am going to my doctor’s 🥼 appointment on work out 🏃🏼‍♀️ clothes. I may not have time to get dressed 👗. I actually thought 💭 of being frustrating not going today and do like Friday, Saturday, Sunday. But I want to do Dance 🕺🏽Jams.

Before I start with how my day went, I would like to point out the bad first.

I slid back yesterday. I have been good in the past few day even without thinking 🤔 about it, I was eating 🍽 properly. What does that entail? I was feeding at the right time 🕗, no extra helping, the right type of foods 🥘. I think 💭 what helped put me there is my conversation with Kanika that as you make muscles 💪🏾 🦵🏾 you will need more energy ⚡️ to burn. She had the same idea 💡. I don’t want to make a big deal of the miss ❌ yesterday. I just want to note 📝 it and not pass that I am doing so good 😊, I am perfect, I am great and you review a checklist of must 🖊 and you realize looks like what you say and depict is so not accurate to what’s actually happening.

For the most part, I had a leisurely, calm, deliberate day. It wasn’t full of craze unused spirit. Actually, I found myself with the lazy thinking 💭. Don’t get me wrong. I am sharp and I express myself exactly as I want. Except in the quiet 🤫 moments when you realize your thoughts to yourself 🧐, you are staring 😳 at the TV 📺 and you have this humdrum. It’s almost a sleep 💤 state. You want to wake and make your mind gears ⚙️ nimble. IDK 😐. Is it just me? I said hi 👋🏾 to Lane and I was able to add up to our last conversation. I wanted to show him this.

Next time. I said. I was relaxed 😌 most of the time. It should be nothing to wonder about because used the cardio ❤️ machines like twice. I foam roller my back coming in because it was achy 😖 sore. Around Zumba 🕴🏻I did feel my right hips in pain. Vie, you sound like an old lady. This morning I said to myself that I don’t feel tired 😓. I can show up and be ok to do my regular training 👟. I can tell differences on how my body feels rest and exhausted states. I mean if you don’t know for yourself I am sure others shall make you believe that they know you better than you. Right. Like they are your BFF.

It was weird to be in the corner of the GTX floor. However, yesterday, I wasn’t short on art 🖼 👩🏼‍🎨 eyes 👁. Do you guys notice my work? I saw what defines me. I had an eye on the many things around me. I examined the pulley and marvel about the mechanics. I want to get an activity 🧩 book. Of course, everything in time because who doesn’t have limited money 💵. This morning I was already calculating 🔢🔣 how I’ll use my small allowance and get Christmas 🎄 gifts 🎁. Thank God, my Mom’s stuff are checked off. I did 60 minutes of work on my arms. I would like to expand my use of the floor. I am always at the right corner. I would like to foray in the other areas like as Ian says, “Spice it up.” It should keep me on my toes. I am too reliable there. Plus, it’s pleasant to do something different although I find that what I do is just fine as wine 🍷 para mí.

I put lemons 🍋 on my water 💧 bottle today. I was nauseous. It so happened that it was break time and I get to freshen up. I did. I spritz some lavender and I improved. After having that discovery, I put on some more in my night 🏙 30 minute Metcon before studio. I told Keya who I disclosed what I was feeling that I was looking at aromatherapy 👃🏾 stuff at Bath and Body Works. They really help. While sitting down tweeting 📲, I also wondered if it good to make a big fuzz about it with my health practitioner. I can mention it. But actually investigating and getting to the bottom of it.

As cut and dry and manageable my day was, Dr. Nick’s book 📚 is full of lurid college details. Something my parents would not tolerate. My sister moving out. It was to her advantage and she just broke a cardinal rule. I think I want to do another straight hour weightlifting 🏋🏼‍♀️ yeah? I’ll do 30 cardiovascular exercise first.

There were many posters. Those are expensive. Advertising costs a lot of money 💰 because to them it actually translates to increased revenue 📈. There was a poster on self changes. I was tickled 😆. On the way down from Latin dance moves 👣, I discussed with my Mom my desire to do 60 Day Challenge but I shall hold on until more information ℹ️ like my STATs are compiled and I actually have something substantial to talk about. Here’s the issue. This is what I want to get from my program. From these points, the personal trainers can recommend things and oh they work. It’s not going to be within the hour. You have to show up and put in the work. I weigh myself because I want to have an idea 💡. Some people look in the mirror. Others tell them how they have seen changes. You might not know there are those who have improved functions on their body parts. The progress is in Roman time.

I am driving easy. Perhaps, that is my impression. It could be that I don’t have my inner self in check. I feel that the fine line that determines functional and losers is their ability to handle themselves. I am pulled toward the direction of being Victorian. I mean who lives like Emily Dickinson? But there is no shame, ridicule and embarrassement in living a none cool 😎 life. So what you are not a New Yorker? Right 😆. You need to be grounded in humanity. As much as I can be performing like I move mountains ⛰ and making large and great changes I have to inculcate in me that it has to be done ✅ with full knowing that these are what matter most in the heart 💕.

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vintagemichelle91 · 8 years ago

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A Little Lesson in Expecting: Chapter 3

Authors’ Note: Happy Sunday dear readers!! Hope you all had a restful weekend! Now, as we move into month four of Natalia’s pregnancy...lets find out what she will be having!!! @rauliskafan and hope you enjoy! We so look forward to your feedback!!!

Clutching Rafael’s hand, Natalia took a deep breath. This wasn’t her first pregnancy, but after all that had happened she did not want to take any chances and chose to err on the side of extra caution. The cool gel swirling around her belly soothed her nerves as the technician prepared for the test, and Rafael stared at the screen, always looking mesmerized by the mere idea of twins.

“You okay?” he gently asked when Natalia squeezed his hand a little tighter.

She let out a small, shaky breath, “I’m fine… still just trying to take it all in.”

“It was unexpected…”

“In more ways than one,” Natalia conceded as she turned back to the screen and listened to the heartbeats. Two lives growing inside her this time… two small souls that would fill their lives with more love than what they could have ever imagined.

“You know I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone but you,” Rafael whispered before placing a kiss on her temple. Smiling back, Natalia nodded her head, ready to speak when the technician spoke up.

“Are you two ready to know what you’re having?” she asked.

Glancing at each other, Rafael and Natalia shared another smile. “Yes,” he started. “I think we’ve had enough surprises.”

“Point well made, Atticus.”

He smirked and again they were in sync. “What are we having?” he asked.

The technician zoomed in a bit on the monitor, no doubt to make sure she was correct before delivering the news. “And… it looks like you’re having two little girls! Congratulations”

With a light laugh, Natalia sighed in relief. “Two little girls… I love the sound of that.”

“Violetta will have to make room for them at her tea party,” Rafael said, blinking back a stray tear and kissing his wife’s hair.

“You think she’ll be excited?” Natalia asked, her mind racing nervously as she imagined what Violetta might say on the matter, her three-year-old going on forty who was never afraid to speak her mind.

“I’m sure she will, hermosa,” Rafael replied, pecking her brow.

With his assurance, Natalia relaxed, picturing three sweet smiles, giggling one moment and weeping the next, her emotions and hormones in a beautiful state of overdrive leading towards happiness.

“Atticus?” Natalia asked as scrolled through his email, most likely catching up with work since he had taken the rest of the day off to accompany her to the ultrasound appointment.

“Hmmm… everything alright?” he quickly asked, forever a little worried this second time around whether she liked it or not.

“I’m fine… are you?” Natalia tilted her head slightly and noted the faint exhaustion in his emerald eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he challenged. “Got the verdict we wanted this week. Got you and the twins in the best of health.” Bowing his head, he kissed her belly, and Natalia tousled his hair.

“It’s just… I can’t help but wonder if you… if you would have liked for one of the babies to be a boy,” Natalia said. “I mean I would understand if you---”

To her surprise, he laughed and slipped his phone back into his pocket, Natalia’s eyes narrowing as she tried to follow his thoughts.

“Glad my concern amuses you,” she said.

“No, it’s not that…”

“Then what?” Natalia questioned with a slight hitch to her voice, her hormones threatening to send her into a screaming fit.

With a sigh, Rafael pulled his wife closer, taking her hand into his and bestowing a tender kiss on her palm. “I am laughing at my own joke…”

“Care to let me in on it?” Natalia’s brow arched.

“I was simply thinking that I’ve had so much more practice with girls that I should be considered an expert.”

“I don’t know if I would call that a joke, Atticus,” Natalia replied. “But now your expertise is going to put to the ultimate test.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Rafael assured with another kiss as the cab rounded the corner to their street. The leaves on the trees were just beginning to change from green to different hues of yellows, reds, and browns. Change was coming in more ways than one, but now it promised to arrive without a hint of fear.

“As long as these babies are happy and healthy, this news is just fine by me, hermosa.”

His lips met hers before she could say anything else, and relief washed over her in a calming wave as the happiness of what was to come enveloped her. With another kiss, Rafael guided her out of the cab towards the townhouse steps. His hand found his way toward her tummy, and he peered into her sparkling brown eyes.

“All good?” he asked.

“Perfect. I’m sorry. I was just worried…”

“Which is the last I want for you.” Rafael cupped her face in his hands and lightly pressed his forehead to hers.

“I’ll do my best to remember that,” she said.

“Our daughters are the luckiest girls in the world,” Rafael said with a hopeful smile, and Natalia couldn’t help but fall into his arms. “To have a wonderful Mami like you…”

“And a perfect Papi like you.”

“Remember that night we spent picking out Violetta’s name?” Natalia began to set the table for dinner, a personal pineapple and olive pizza for her per her craving and pepperoni for the others.

“We played hooky and came up with a great name,” Rafael said, scooping Violetta into his arms and smothering her with kisses and tickles.

The little girl giggled and squirmed in his hold. “The best name, Papi!”

“Lo mejor para, mi muñequita,” Rafael concluded with one more kiss before setting her on the booster seat.

Violetta clapped her hands in excitement. “First we eat and then we pick out names for the new babies!”

“Think we can do it tonight?” Natalia asked.

“I don’t see why not, hermosa.”

The tattered book remained on the kitchen counter during dinner. Which the family ate quickly before moving to the living room, the pressure on, and Violetta determined that they would indeed have two names selected before the night was out. With bowls of ice cream in their hands, they settled on the sofa and Natalia flipped through the well-worn pages.

“Mimi is such a cute name,” Natalia mused as she jotted it down on her notebook.

Rafael’s brow quirked. “Another operatic name to go along with Violetta?”

“Why not? One more and we could have our very own trio,” Natalia laughed lightly as she turned the page.

Setting her bowl of ice cream down, Violetta narrowed her eyes at her parents. “That my thing. Sorry, but try again.”

Rafael sighed but had to agree with her. “She’s right... and since mi hermosa flor is about to add to our garden…” Taking the book from Natalia’s hands, he began to page through the contents. “…some flowery names might be best.” Grinning, he found the page he was looking for and handed the book back to his wife.

“You might be onto something here,” Natalia said as her eyes swept over the page.

For the next hour or so, they played the name game, tossing out monikers such as Rose, Lily, Daisy, and every floral title that passed under their eyes. Violetta kept adding her input even as she became distracted by the latest episode of Doc McStuffins, making sure to remind Harold to pay attention for the next time they would need to fix a toy should their weekly tea parties get too rowdy.

“I am not naming one of my daughters Petunia,” Rafael stated determinedly with just a hint of frustration in his voice.

Violetta turned her attention away from Harold and the television screen. “That not a good name… it sound funny.”

Natalia sighed and found herself agreeing with both of them. “I’d like them to match on some level… two perfect pretty sounds.” Sighing heavily, she closed her notebook. “Lily is pretty for one girl, but Lilac for the other baby is just not going to cut it.”

“It’s like we’re setting one up to be a debutant and the other is destined to take up residence in a commune or something,” Rafael groaned. Natalia nearly told him that that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world when her mind flashed back to their awful dinner with Ingrid Dodds, and she let the idea drop.

“We need a break,” Natalia said. “To clear our heads.”

After a short evening walk, the Barbas came back to the townhouse no closer to the solution, and Natalia felt slightly defeated as they returned to the sofa to look through the book one last time.

“Maybe we’re just over-thinking this?” Rafael suggested as he poured himself a serving of scotch.

“But I want it to the names to be beautiful,” Natalia said.

“Cause you guys did that the first time round,” Violetta giggled as she settled next to her Mami on the sofa, her green eyes focusing on the pages of so many names.

“History can repeat itself,” Rafael insisted as he sipped his drink, and Natalia sighed.

“But it’s getting late,” Natalia said. “Maybe we should just pick this up in the morning.” Standing, Natalia set the open book beside Violetta, open to the H names.

“H for Harold,” the little girl said, taking the big book to her tiny lap. “H my most favorite letter. It start happy and Harold and… okay I got it!��

Rafael and Natalia turned around to face Violetta with amused expressions on their faces. She kicked the book to the ground and stood tall on the sofa cushions.

“What did you get?” Rafael asked curiously.

“The names. Come here, Mami.” Violetta motioned for Natalia to move closer, and she obeyed, still slightly confused. “Really, sweet pea? What are the names?”

Violetta placed one little hand on Natalia’s belly. “You Hazel…” Then she moved her other hand to the other side. “…and you Holly. Okay. We done now.” With that she hopped off the sofa taking Harold with her.

Suddenly Natalia felt the twins come alive from their slumber and with a flurry of little kicks, and she glanced back at Rafael, smiling as tears brimmed in her eyes.

“I think they like it,” she placed a hand over her tummy as the kicks continued.

Rafael smirked and set his glass down, picking Violetta up to kiss her pink cheeks. “As always, mi primera flor is right.”

Violetta’s smile grew wider, seemingly just as proud of herself as he parents were.

“Told you we could do it, Papi.”

The night, Violetta got three songs and a story. Rafael couldn’t help but indulge her. She had figured out what they deemed impossible. But Natalia reminded herself that anything and everything could happen with a daughter like her. And a husband like…

“She cracked the case,” Natalia said as Rafael entered their bedroom.

“I wonder where she gets that from?” Rafael teased as he settled under covers with Natalia, his hand running gently across her tummy, the twins still, now named, still twirling.

“Where in the world?” Natalia joked as he pulled her into his arms and their lips met. “I wonder---”

“There are so many things I can make you wonder right now…” His hands brought down her nightgown strap, and his kisses found her shoulder.

Natalia pushed him back slightly. “Before I allow you to… I thought I was your first flower?” she pouted, pretending to be hurt.

Rafael stole kiss from her lips and held on to her as he whispered, “Tu eres la mejor flor… the one that makes the garden and every happy moment possible.”

“Could you say anything sweeter?”

“You have all night to find out.”

Satisfied with his answer and hoping for more as her heart soared, Natalia settled into his arms, completely content as Hazel and Holly finally fell asleep.

#rafael barba #law and order svu #svu fanfiction #raúl esparza #natalia barba #violetta barba #Rafael Barba/OC #a hard lesson series #a little lesson in expecting #raul esparza

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