#Destino tower

[r3starttt]

A CHOICE

PAIRING: Act 2. Caitlyn x reader

SUMMARY: Combat scene with Ambessa but with caitlyn and more romantic cs ughh...

CW: soft sex ig. fingering. I think that's it, this is kinda boring

TAGLIST: @Kaimythically @lewd-alien @greysontheidiot @jolyne @sapphic-ovaries @tlouloser @prwttiestbunny @visobsession @kiki5gigi @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @rob1nbuckl3ys @femininologies @dinakisser @viajeros--sin--destino @GodessAgrona @patronagrona

The room reeked of sweat and frustration, a fitting backdrop to the shift between you and Caitlyn. Once the principled enforcer driven by justice, Caitlyn had become something you barely recognized, something that mirrored the things you had both mocked in others. War had done that—it twisted ideals, reshaped alliances, and blurred the lines between hero and villain.

You weren’t exempt from its grasp either.

You weren’t on anyone’s side anymore, and if that made you selfish, so be it. All sides had their vendettas cloaked in the guise of justice, and trust had long since dissolved into ash.

The only constant left in your life was Caitlyn, and even she seemed to slip further from your reach with each passing day. Still, she was all you had left, and you clung to that tether as tightly as you could.

Ambessa stood nearby, her towering frame casting a shadow over the training room. She had a presence that demanded obedience, her sharp eyes studying every move you and Caitlyn made. Her judgment hung heavy in the air, fueling Caitlyn’s relentless determination. The younger woman was eager to prove herself—desperate to show she was more than the pretty face people often dismissed her as.

“Again,” Ambessa’s voice boomed, authoritative and cold.

Caitlyn didn’t hesitate. She lunged, and within seconds, you were on your back, her weight pressing down on you. An annoyed groan escaped your lips as you met her gaze. There was no triumph in her eyes, just an unspoken apology that felt like a slap in the face.

She had pinned you down four times already, and she didn’t seem to care that it was staged, that you were holding back to give her an edge.

“This is the fourth time you’ve lost,” she muttered, her tone quiet but cutting. The faintest hint of a smirk tugged at her lips, a deliberate attempt to needle you. You were doing too much, and a lie like this was one Caitlyn would never be able to hold on for so long.

You shoved her off and rose to your feet, brushing the dust from your uniform. “Aren’t you exhausted?” you asked, frowning as you reached for the long training sticks.

“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. Her confidence was unyielding, but the subtle tremor in her stance betrayed her. She was tiring, but she’d never admit it. Not in front of Ambessa.

You rolled your shoulders, loosening the tension building in your muscles, and tossed her a stick.

She caught it effortlessly, though her brows furrowed as she examined the weapon.

“Isn’t this what we’re here for?” Ambessa stepped past, her hand brushing your shoulder. “Don’t disappoint me,” she said, her voice low enough that only you could hear. Then she left the room, leaving the two of you to your duel.

Caitlyn frowned, her fingers tightening around the stick as she moved into a defensive stance. Her eyes narrowed, scanning you for any sign of weakness.

She dodged your first strike with a fluid step to the side, her frown returning as she countered with a quick jab to your arm. The impact stung, yet, with the adrenaline of it all, you barely flinched.

You shifted your stance, testing her defenses. Her movements were agile but predictable, and you exploited that, pressing her with a flurry of strikes that forced her to retreat. She tried to parry, but your blows grew heavier, faster. The sound of wood colliding echoed in the room, each clash a reminder of how far you both had come— how far you had fallen.

You gritted your teeth and feigned an opening, luring her in. When she lunged, you sidestepped, your stick sweeping low to catch her behind the knee. Inmediatelly, you shot again, pivoting and landing a strike on her shoulder. She winced but didn’t yield, pressing forward with a renewed ferocity.

The tension between you was palpable, each movement charged with so much—frustration, pride, it was complicated. You weren’t just fighting for dominance; you were fighting to hold onto the fragile thread that bound you together. Caitlyn’s determination was admirable, but you could see the cracks forming beneath her resolve.

Caitlyn moved with a desperation that mirrored your own, though her strikes lacked the precision and control you'd honed over countless battles. It was frustrating—not her lack of skill but the raw determination she wielded like a weapon. She had something to prove, and even as she pushed herself past her limits, you could see beneath.

Ambessa stood like a sentinel on the sidelines, her sharp gaze dissecting every move. You felt her judgment weighing heavily on you both, a silent reminder of why you were here.

She’d orchestrated this fight, thrust you into Caitlyn’s orbit once again after convincing her to become a commander. It wasn’t loyalty or trust that kept you by Caitlyn’s side now—it was survival. War had made enemies of everyone, and holding onto her, flawed as she was, felt like the only tether to a life that wasn’t entirely consumed by violence.

Caitlyn lunged, her movements fueled by frustration more than strategy. You parried her blow with ease, countering with a sweep of your stick that forced her back. She stumbled but recovered quickly, her brow furrowing as she adjusted her stance.

You didn’t rise to her bait. Instead, you pressed forward, your strikes gaining momentum. She dodged the first few but couldn’t keep up with your relentless pace.

Finally, your stick connected with her side, and she yelped, her expression twisting into a mix of pain and anger.

Before she could recover, you closed the distance between you, slamming her back against the wall. The force of the impact knocked the wind out of her, and her stick clattered to the ground.

For a moment, the fight was over. Her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling as she stared at you blankly.

And yet, despite it all, you couldn’t bring yourself to finish her. Even as you disarmed her, you hesitated.

Her breathing was ragged, her eyes locked on yours, but there was no surrender in her gaze. Only defiance.

You released her, letting your stick fall to the floor beside hers. She stayed against the wall for a moment, her gaze distant as she tried to regain her bearings.

Ambessa’s steps cut through the silence. “Is this enough?” you asked, turning to face her.

Ambessa gave a curt nod, her expression unreadable. “I hope so. Kiramman, do better next time. And you—one victory means nothing.” With that, she turned on her heel and left, the door closing with a decisive thud behind her.

Caitlyn slid down the wall, her movements slow and heavy, until she came to rest on the cold floor. She drew her knees close to her chest, one hand pressing firmly against her side. Her breath came uneven and shallow, each exhale barely audible. She didn’t speak. You crouched in front of her, setting the bundle of sticks aside. “Did I hurt you?” Your voice softened, words deliberate.

She shook her head, but her gaze never lifted. “I’m fine... just tired,” she murmured, her voice frayed and fragile, like it might disappear if she spoke any louder.

You frowned, unconvinced, studying the strain etched across her face. “You sure?”

Her nod came again, mechanical, unconvincing. The tension in her hand betrayed her, fingers digging into her side as if she could smother the pain through sheer will.

“Lay down,” you said, firm but gentle. “You need to rest.”

Her lips parted in protest, though the words carried no weight. “I can’t just... lay here,” she muttered, struggling to push herself upright. The attempt lasted only a heartbeat before a soft groan slipped from her lips, her body folding under the effort.

You scoffed lightly, standing and extending your hand. “No? Then come on.”

She shook her head, stubborn as ever. “I’m fine,” she repeated, but the hollowness of her tone betrayed her once again.

With a sigh, you knelt beside her. Your gaze softened, the sharp edges of impatience giving way to concern. “Come closer,” you said, quiet but insistent.

For a moment, she hesitated, then obeyed. Her movements were sluggish, every inch forward laced with reluctance. Her hands trembled as they left her side, her shoulders heavy with the weight of exhaustion. The moment your hands found her, warmth against her cool skin, she stilled. Her head dipped forward, her breath steadying as if surrendering to your care.

“This will hurt, but it’ll help,” you warned, brushing her uniform aside just enough to place your hand where hers had been. Her muscles were tense, coiled like steel beneath your fingers. You pressed gently but firmly, seeking the knot of pain she couldn’t hide.

Her sharp inhale cut through the silence, a quiet hiss of discomfort. Still, she nodded, letting you know you’d found it.

Your touch was careful, each motion slow and deliberate, coaxing the tension free. Her body softened under your hands, her breathing evening out with each pass. The furrow in her brow smoothed, and her grip on the pain began to wane.

“There,” you murmured after a time, pulling back.

Caitlyn sat straighter, her movements measured. She exhaled a breath she seemed to have been holding, her eyes finally meeting yours. “Thank you,” she said, her voice subdued but sincere.

You stood, brushing your hands together as if to clear away the weight of her pain. “Mhm... I’ll need more than a thank you for all this, Kiramman,” you teased, extending your hand to help her up.

Her lips twitched, a faint smirk breaking through her weariness. “Kiramman?” she echoed, an edge of curiosity in her tone.

You nodded, tugging her to her feet before letting her hand fall away. She studied you for a beat, the faint crease of a frown touching her features. Her silence was telling, and so was yours. Her last name had rarely, if ever, passed your lips, and the air between you now seemed charged with the acknowledgment of it.

Her smirk returned, wider now, her gaze sharpening with mischief. “You have a choice,” she said, her voice low, her confidence cutting through the quiet.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I don’t.”

“You do,” she countered, stepping closer. Her hand brushed lightly against your waist, a deliberate gesture that sent the air around you rippling with unspoken meaning.

“You think so?” you asked, your tone flat but your gaze steady on hers.

“I know so,” Caitlyn whispered, her words a challenge as her face hovered close to yours. Her eyes flicked briefly to your lips, then back to your own.

Your smile tilted, equal parts playful and defiant. “I don’t,” you repeated, stepping back and breaking her grip. You reached for the water bottle, taking a deliberate sip, ignoring her lingering gaze.

“So, you’re just going to ignore me now?” Her arms slid around your waist from behind, her touch light but persistent. She rested her head against your back, her body swaying slightly as if to disarm you with her childlike ease. You glanced over your shoulder, raising a brow.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked, your voice calm, though her closeness stirred something unspoken in the quiet between you.

Her breath caught for a moment, but then she let out a soft huff, her grip tightening briefly before she released you. She stepped back, her silence filled with the weight of a thousand words unspoken.

And yet, you knew better than to believe it was over.

Your hand reached for hers before she could retreat any further. Her eyes flickered up to meet yours, wary yet undeniably drawn to you, as though your touch was the only thing grounding her.

You stepped closer, closing the space between you, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

Her lips parted as though she was about to argue, but instead, she fell silent. Her fingers brushing your chest, tentative at first, before sliding up toward your neck.

Seconds after you felt her digits threading through your hair, pulling you closer with a subtle urgency that betrayed her earlier distance. And you followed, like you're used to.

The rhythm between your lips guided urgency, desperation. Her breaths mingling with whining and gasping. Even now there was a fight for dominance, trying to prove each other a worth none of you had to.

And so the kiss breaks, a mutual eyeing to prove this is real and is mutual. Caitlyn feels your lips hovering, the quiet gasps for air almost turning into moans hitting her skin fervently.

She diggs into your shoulders, taking the chance to slip her tongue through your lips. And as you're used by now, the action is reciprocated by your saliva mixing with hers.

Mingling breaths coming in shallow gasps as you deepened the kiss, your hands exploring the somehow familiar curve of her body, the softness of her skin.

Your hands roamed down her back, pulling her closer, pressing her pelvis against you before sliding your digits beneath the red fabric of her uniform, fighting to undo her pants.

The task was easy, a somehow known ritual between both. Your fingers slid with ease, cupping at her pussy before rubbing your digits up and down her wet folds. Your hand behind her lower back to savour on her skin, hold her in place like you're always doing for her.

Her arms came to wrap around your shoulders, tangling her fingers on your hair while her face came to hid at your neck. The sweat on your faces enveloping each other's warmth with each move.

Her quiet whimpers felt perfect against your skin, like it was meant to be this way. And for once you allowed yourself to hold onto her as well, enjoy the pleasure of having her like this.

Caitlyn let herself be vulnerable once more, no longer fighting or hesitating but simply letting you hold her.

"Shh... feels good?" Your fingers brushed over her clit before finally circling over it, gentle, slow. Caitlyn murmured a quiet acknowledgment, pressing herself closer to you- pressing your body closer to her.

You left your thumb circling over her clit, just sensing her wet, teasing at her hole before thrusting your middle finger inside her. An overlapped gasp at how she swallowed you, how her hips followed you to get more depth, more friction.

"Look at me." Her head suddenly tilted back. Nails digging at your chin as she forced you to obbey her command- another usual between you two.

Her eyebrows were slightly curved, teeth gap showing through her parted lips. Your thrust growing faster each second until you took the chance to use your ring finger too.

You could see it on her chest, sense on how tight she was, hear the squeal with each thrust- she needed this as much as you.

Her lips begged for yours. Blue eyes eating you until her nails digged too deep- enough to make you hiss. And so, her tongue met yours once again, teeth clashing in a sloppy kiss, giving each other the privilege of the quiet gasps, low whines and quite heavy pants every time your fingers pumped into her pussy with more force. The palm of your hand hitting on her clit every time.

It never stops, not even when her lips part and break the kiss. Her hand going down to your wrists while her head tilts back. "Stop..." you whisper in a weak command, needing her to cum on your fingers, still pumping into her pussy. "Cait... please." You would scream at her and return all the anger she's let on you. But how she looks, with the sweat still on her face, some small hair sticking to her forehead. The warmth of her hand around you while her legs can barely hold it. Your fingers trapped between her thighs and her wet, under her underwear- so trapped and growing harder to move them. She's letting herself enjoy the moment, no talking but just quiet touching and gasping between both to guide each other.

Because she knows no one could ever understand and touch and feel like you.

And for once, getting to enjoy that silent admission- it blinds you into just pleading her to not be an ass once more.

Which she obbeys, drenching your fingers before she's holding onto you once again. Ragid breathing and a stupid smile on her face.

[ask-the-royal-absol]

King Flint: Stan, could you get a few rock types to help shift the walls around to let her into Elantra’s room? Could you also get a couple of attendants to help find rooms for the rest of these fine folks?

*The hitmonlee walked towards one of the side doors, taking the map tube that was carefully placed down with him. Soon afterwards, five rock types (a graveler, a sudowoodo, a nosepass, a solrock and a boldore) came in, asking the King how he would like the stone walls of the castle to be moved. He directed them with a point to the right wall close to the two thrones that stood at the back of the room and the five of them placed hand, or hand equivalents, on the rocky ground down below them. A bright brown glow shone from their eyes as the ground started to quake, the solid stone wall glowing with this same colour.

A few seconds later, an opening slowly began to form, growing larger and larger with each passing moment. The door that once stood there shattered from the movement, splinters of wood breaking off in all directions. Crumbling noises echoed around the room. Sweat dripped from the rock types and a few small grunts could be heard from them. The strain was immense. A structure shift that large was a lot for five Pokémon to move. The castle wall's opening just kept expanding upwards and outwards, the edges of it quite neatly formed with barely a crack to be seen.

An enormous archway took shape, large enough for Pikavee to comfortably move through. The rock types took a moment to catch their breaths. They were rarely asked to move castle walls by the king. It certainly took a lot out of them. With a wipe of their brows, they looked towards the towering Pokémon eagerly awaiting their next instructions.*

King Flint: These fine Pokémon will show you the way to Elantra's room. It may not fit you the best; she was never as big as you. But, it should at least be a bit more comfortable than having to sleep on the floor. Sorry we don't have anything larger for you.

*King Flint turned to the rest of the group.*

King Flint: We should have some attendants come for you lot soon enough.

*An echo of footprints sounded behind the kindly king, followed by Stan, a Lycanroc, a Mienshao and a centiskorch. Each bowed before their king. Flint gestured for Stan's attention and whispered something into his ear whilst looking towards Mouse and Gizmo. With a small nod, Stan gave a small and subtle look towards the other attendants in the room to which they all nodded in understanding.*

King Flint: These four here shall take you all to some of the spare rooms we have. If you need anything at all, please feel free to ask one of those four. They'll be located near your rooms. They're all incredibly good at their jobs so please don't hesitate to ask. We will be having a breakfast feast in the morning. I'll have some of the attendants let you know when that is.

King Flint: I'd suggest for the dark and poison types here you stick within the castle walls for now until we can figure out some sort of plan for how to allow you to move around the city without arousing too much suspicion. I know Destino said they had some sort of trick or something but I don't know if any of you can do the same thing. If you need Destino, they'll be situated on the floor above you down the corridor. If you need me for something, though I highly doubt you would, I'll be located on the same floor as Destino. My room door is painted orange and is the only one like it on that floor so it should be easy to find. Hope you all have a good night! Again, any assistance needed, ask the attendants. It's guaranteed one of them will be around.

*King Flint waited patiently for everyone to head out of the large room they were situated in. Only him and Hope remained.

Hope gave a small stretch and a slight yawn before starting to walk away from her father. It had been an incredibly long day and she was exhausted. She was usually incredibly tired after her busy days but this felt even more tiresome.*

[lightofunova]

*Destino saunters up to Reshi, wearing a pair of shades.*

Destino: Damn, it's so bright out here. Not as bright and as beautiful as myself but nothing could get to those levels. How are you not blinded by this light? Weren't you stuck in a tower sleeping? I don't know for how long but I wish that could be me right now. Honestly, I could do with a slumber like you had. How long was it for? 10 hours or something? That's all I'm gonna do when I'm monarch. Sleep. And it'll be thoroughly deserved too. I mean, who would want to wake up and experience this? Reshino, perhaps you should have kept sleeping. If I was in your situation, I would have kept my slumber going. And the amount of walking you have to do. Eww. Just get someone to carry you around. I know I would.

Reshi stares at the absol for a few moments. “I mean…It is quite bright, I can’t look out over the water for too long without my eyes watering.” She was thankful for the mist clouding a good portion of the sun.

Then they said something that caused her to stop walking, staring at them yet again.

“I was asleep because I almost died Destino.” She deadpanned at them. “Though if you could sleep for 3000 years with no food or water then perhaps you could truly be a legend.” She considered.

“Ah, but you wouldn’t have any contact either. I doubt you could deal without your adoring fans.” Reshi added once more, walking past them without another word. Tornadus followed along, glancing down at the absol for a moment. The small ghost type on his shoulder took a look at the royal as well, before a smirk spread across his waxy face.

“Lio lit loo.” The remark caused the albino ahead to laugh aloud.

“Well said Litwick! Perhaps they wouldn’t even be able to finish without worrying about a split claw!” It seemed as if the two were having a jest at Destino’s expense. All in good fun, of course, she knew better than to cross a line.

“You should be mindful though Litwick, they are a close…” Reshi stopped, halting her gait as she remembered something. She would have spoken out of turn if she continued that sentence. A twinge of pain crossed her heart as she remembered why, but as quickly as it had came it was gone once more.“Ah well, I suppose they’re just a nuisance who wants attention. Carry on Litwick!”

[pups-not-here]

El Castillo de Encanto: Que Tú Eres Mi Destino

The Castle of the Enchantment: That You Are My Destiny

Each new gift given by the miraculous candle was meant to strengthen the community, strengthen the El Castillo de Encanto. To make the royal Madrigal family proud.

You work as a personal servant within the Royal Madrigal's family castle, but after the fall of the Castillo and rebirth of the miracle, your work plans change. Time to make the missing triplet feel at home once again.

The dictionary of my spanglish and bad timeline: - El Castillo de Encanto the casita in this version. - Reader is technically 22 years old. - I'm using a mix of a magical democratic monarchy and traditional Spanish, Colombian, and a dash of Downton Abbey

Chapter ambience: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLWbKf4YcAA

Fifty years ago, a newly widowed mother received a miracle. Pushed out of her home after the birth of her three children by the violent conflict of the Colombian civil war, she and her husband were forced to flee in hopes of finding a new home. Even as many joined them, they could not escape the dangers of warfare. The wife watched as her newly fathered husband was lost to the violence of war. But, even in their darkest moment, Alma Madrigal was given a miracle.

The candle she held became a magical flame that could never go out, and glowed brightly in that dark night. It blessed Alma Madrigal with a refuge in which to live. The magic made towering green, protective mountains over her and her people. It was a place of wonder, an enchantment. The miracle grew, creating a castle for her and her family to live in, El Castillo de Encanto. Their house, the castle itself, came alive to shelter them.

When her children came of age, the miracle blessed them with magic too. Passing down to them a magical gift to match the magical candle Queen Alma Madrigal was bestowed. And when their children came of age, that magic was passed through each generation. Together, the royal family's gifts have made the Encanto, truly, a paradise.

Each new gift given by the miraculous candle was meant to strengthen the community, strengthen the El Castillo de Encanto. To make the royal Madrigal family proud.

Each gift given to the Madrigal’s was just as special as they were. 

~~~

When you wake up you do so to the sound of a ringing bell, loud and clanging to purposefully alert the women and men around you. You jump up so fast being so startled and smack your forehead on the wooden panel of the bunk above you. With a small hiss and rubbing your forehead, you stumble out of bed, grabbing at the clothes under your bed frame. The woman above you does too. Everyone around is scrambling to get their royal garb on, whispering in excitement. 

Today we move back into El Castillo de Encanto! The Castle! 

You had to admit how relieved you were. It was so cramped in this temporary arrangement the servants of the Madrigal family found themselves in while the magic was still weak. This was usually where the nuns from the church would stay. 

Truly, a humble celibate life they live… You think to yourself as you use a silvery, shiny ribbon to quickly tie your hair into a low ponytail. 

Ten years ago, the village of Encanto fretted over the state of the magic blessing when Mirabel Madrigal did not receive a gift like the rest of her family. Not even 24 hours later, one of the royal magical triplets in the second generation known as “Bruno, la maldición del destino” by most of the town, disappeared. 

You were only 12 when this all happened, working alongside your parents as an apprentice of servitude. When you were 13, you were working alone without your parents anymore. You weren’t sure why they passed away so young.

You loved your parents. The Columbian political unrest was too much, most nights they could see the smoke billowing from other towns around them being lit aflame. When your mother got pregnant with you they had a hard decision to make, stay with their friends and family and be in their home, or leave to ensure the safety of their future daughter- you. They thought and thought until your mother was incredibly far along in her pregnancy and the smoke got closer and closer, until they could see orange in the village nearby. The flames licked upwards, burning the homes of innocent families. So, with nothing but a bag with a blanket and a mysterious letter that didn’t have a return address with directions, they set out to find the mysterious Encanto.

You still had that letter. You had practically memorized what it had written on it. In shiny golden metallic font, it stated, “The Encanto, home for anyone looking for refuge or a miracle. Follow the butterflies. Climb the forested mountain. It is waiting for you.” They did. Somehow, they told you, they found it. It was almost like being lost and blinking and suddenly realizing where you’re going. They walked by the butterflies they saw. They took the nights in the cover of the jungle forests. They hiked up mountains. 

They actually saw the castle, and almost as if it was meant to be, your mother went into labor. You remembered sitting there and listening to this story as a child with wonder coursing through your veins. The magical royal family was alerted to them as newcomers, and they took pity on your mother and father. You were born inside the castle, brought into the world by none other than her Majesty Juileta Madrigal. The Madrigals favored your parents' perseverance and love for you as their daughter. They were personally assigned to be paid and housed as servants of the Madrigal family. 

Which, in the Encanto, was a very good job many of the villagers would be envious of. 

Your mother became Juileta’s personal servant. Your father, Bruno’s. You would remember how your mom would come back to the servants quarters with a smile on her face and a treat for you. Your father… Typically would come back looking worried and flop on his bed for a minute before winding down and being his usual self. 

When you were 5 that was when the apprenticeship started happening. Nothing really like backbreaking work, the servants usually never had to do that. You followed in your parents footsteps and worked to be a personal servant. The Madrigals had servants for everything. Teachers, babysitters, clothes, cooking, training- anything! A passion could easily be followed. Like your mother and father, from a young age you really liked order. You liked cleaning, putting things in place, choosing outfits and hairstyles or decorating rooms to be more cozy.

When Mirabel came of age for her gift, and the ceremony was a disaster as she didn’t even get a gift, your mother and father seemed both distraught. Then, Bruno disappeared. Your father suddenly and immediately declined. He wouldn’t get up for his servant job from his bunk. He only spoke to you and your mother. You couldn’t even think of how many times he whispered “you know I love you, right?” to you and your mother every night. You knew he blamed himself for Bruno disappearing, perhaps. Maybe he thought he should’ve done a better job? You didn’t know. You were too young to know. 

Your mother passed first, however. You remember her waking up really early that day and whispering “I love you mi luna” to your dad, kissing his cheek before leaving. You don’t know exactly what happened. You think maybe a stroke. But your mother passed while working, and it was so quick Juileta couldn’t get to her in time to heal her. 

When your father heard the news he was devastated. He held you that night. When you woke up to get breakfast you came back to him cold, and lifeless, still in his bunk. You knew he died of a broken heart. 

You wished to have a love like your parents. A marriage like them. But ever since they passed you have focused on working and being the most reliable servant in the Castillo. Because of that, at the ripe young age of 13 you were assigned to La Riena Alma’s biggest mess. 

Mirabel Madrigal. 

Her Queen Alma Madrigal found the gift-less grandchild to be a pain, invisible, not as special as the rest of the magical family. When she saw how hard you worked even at your age and everything that had happened she grew content with making you the girls permanent personal servant. 

You didn’t complain. 

By then she was 7. And Mirabel was the kindest, funniest, little girl you had ever met. You practically raised her. You studied with her after her educational servant would let her out for the day, you bathed her and made sure her hair was shiny, you cleaned her glasses and taught her how to step on every stone in the Castillo without putting a foot on a crack. 

It broke your heart to see how badly Mirabel wanted to help the family even without a magical blessing like her siblings and cousins. You would go into town with her sometimes and watch the villagers practically ignore her. You hated it. But you tried everything in your power to make sure that Mirabel was happy, gift or no gift. She was special to you. A soul sister. 

When you turned 18, because of how well you handled Mirabel, her majesty Queen Madrigal named you head of servants. Honored, and feeling privileged, you worked even harder. But despite everything you did it felt like the family tension with Mirabel and the hush hush about “ese desgraciado Bruno diablo” grew more and more. 

Until the magic completely failed.

When Isabela Madrigal had a very unsuccessful, chaotic proposal from the village favored Guzman family son, Riena Alma ordered you to take all the servants away to a temporary housing arrangement at the church. She made sure to scream about how the magic is strong and the candle will never burn out. 

It did. 

The Castillo literally crumbled to the ground. Turned into a pile of rubble with barely known remnants of what was once a glorious castle. Mirabel disappeared. Horrified you spent hours with the Madrigals searching for her in this devastated state. The magic was gone, the blessing was no more, and it would seem only a miracle could fix the internal damage within the familia Madrigal and the hope of the villagers. 

Thankfully. She did come back. On horseback, with her Abuela Alma and a figure no one ever expected to return. 

Bruno.

Reunited with her family, Mirabel single handedly encouraged the entire Encanto to hope in miracles again. A month of hard work from everyone made the Castillo be rebuilt in the same glory it was before. And when Mirabel added the final touch of a doorknob, the miracle became restored. The bright golden lights and sparkles and swirls of colors that made their way up through the stone of the Castillo and rooted themselves in the ground under the whole village's feet was a sight to only behold in a state of awed wonder. 

It was a day of celebration. You took Mirabel’s hands and danced with her in celebration, cheering, saying “I knew you could do it! You are so much more special than you realize!!” The new miracle bestowed another blessing on the land, one that united everyone in communication and a desire to be better and let go of the biases of the past and make a better future. 

You blinked rapidly from your thoughts when your bunk mate called for you over her shoulder, “Hey! Líder sin miedo, c���mon! You’re going to be late moving into your ‘elite servant’ room!” 

You laugh and sprint towards her and outside of the cramped sleeping quarters, “As long as I get top bunk this time!!! 

~~~

Your joke earlier was meant as a joke and when you got to the castle everything went even more smoothly. Luckily, you did not need a bunk mate. Upon uniting with their respective Madrigal family members, each servant was either on the giving or receiving end of a magical hug. 

Mirabel threw herself at you and you at her, both of you embracing in a fit of giggles, dancing from side to side in the tight hug. When the girl pulls away she pushes her glasses up her face and smiles at you as if she was still the humble, giftless girl she was before and not the restoration of a miracle. 

Her humbleness still made her excitedly help you get settled into your quarters. They were nice. You had a room alone to yourself, with a queen sized bed and your own personal bathroom, bookcase, desk, wardrobe, and drawers. Mirabel didn’t shut up the whole time she helped you get moved in, excitedly talking about the magic and then moving on to the most surprising topic to most of the other servants. 

Her tío Bruno. 

She excitedly explained to you how he was “weird, but not like, weird weird like more like just kinda nutty weird not like super evil weird.” Which honestly made you chuckle a little. 

“So master Bruno is awkward?” 

“Yeah!” Mirabel lit up, still talking like a madman, which you loved. You really did like it when someone was excited to talk about something. It was sweet how passionate they would get. And you loved Mirabel, and so each nod and hum you gave in reply to her rambling was entirely genuine. 

She explained how short Bruno was. How he lived in the abandoned dungeon and the walls of the Castillo, with his only friends being the rats in there. She even explained his embarrassing habit of using them to make his own little personal plays so he would be entertained all cooped up in there. 

You giggled, only drawing on what your father’s experience was with him. He explained Bruno was always well meaning but prone to being really unlucky himself. He always tried to convince you as a young girl that Bruno wasn’t as scary as everyone made him seem. 

Standing at 5’3, being 50 years old, and looking so skinny for his age- yup. You believed him and Mirabel well over the village folk and Camilo’s shallow seven foot interpretation of his uncle. 

Mirabel went on to explain how much he loved the Encanto, the Madrigal monarchy itself, and each and every one of the family members. How he aided her in seeing the future to help save the miracle. She made sure to put a lot of emphasis on how he seemed to be the only adult she had ever met (“aside from present company, of course,” she made sure to add, winking at you) who treated her with respect. Like he understood her wishes and desires and demands and even if he was scared he knew what was for the best despite the wishes of the f amily to remain “fine”. After her emotional banter about him she got more into his appearance. 

By then you were following behind her with your back straight, clasped hands held at your belly button height, resuming the perfect personal servant posture as you did before the collapse. Your tied up hair billowed behind you as you kept a strong, certain stride. You wanted to make sure you kept working that hard and pouring everything you had into this job even if the family seemed more lax. You were the Head of Servitude, after all. 

“He has this crazy slouch. You know, like the kind you see little gárgolas standing in. Oh! And he always rings his hands or waves them around- real expressive with them, ya know?” Mirabel walked, talking to you over her shoulder, “He is all gangly like he doesn’t know where to put his limbs sometimes. You know what I mean- like a growing adolescente. He seems to not understand where to place his feet.” Mirabel walked the memorized path to her room, not stopping a moment during all of this, “When the castle was rebuilt he immediately went to bed. He wasn’t awake this morning if you didn’t see- in fact I bet he’s still in bed, durmiendo todo el dia, jeez, what an old man. Well I guess it’s not that big of a deal, he doesn’t really like using his gift anyways.” 

When she stopped in front of her door she turned to you, a smile still on her happy little face. You chuckled, and spoke, “What a glowing review for your regio uncle.” 

“I know right!” Mirabel giggled and moved her hips and legs so her brightly colored skirt swung back and forth. You stepped up next to her with a soft smile, making her turn towards her bedroom door and reach for the handle, “Now it’s your turn to help me move in!” She gave you a sly smile, knowing you would love this detail, “I need a lot of help decorating.” 

Your eyes lit up in happiness, your face not revealing it in its entirety but a small smile did form on your lips. 

You grabbed the door knob with her, “What are we waiting for then?!” 

Mirabel laughed.

~~

The next week went on with the Madrigal family settling back into the Castillo with as much grace and understanding under the new miracle Mirabel had created. Unfortunately, because Mirabel was the creator of this miracle you found yourself not her personal servant as often anymore. It meant you had to resume the extra duties of head of servitude (which, admittedly, were not as fun as goofing around with Mirabel all day). 

You usually wake her up most days. It meant a good morning routine and a great way to start off the day as she would sing while you fixed her hair and tended to her curls. Her eyes would scrunch behind her glasses as you scolded her for being such a “wiggly worm” and “oruga tonta”.

So often her Majesty the Queen Alma Madrigal would come into Mirabel’s room in the morning. You would have to take a step back as your mistress would run up to her abuela and kiss her cheek and ask her how she slept. It was clear that they had repaired their relationship and were eagerly growing it as the days went on. 

“Might I borrow the room, miss?” Reina Alma had asked of you on the first morning back in the saddle. 

You bowed, “Yes your su Majestad,” You kept your head down in proper etiquette with your hands placed together at your midsection, walking past the queen with kindness. 

You were anxious. Mirabel was whisked away more and more by her grandmother, and while you were so excited for her you knew what it meant. Less time with you! What you saw as your little sister was finally growing up and it pained you a little. You didn’t know why. You practically felt like her second mom. You watched her grow from lost in the world to understanding her place. 

Perhaps you wished to continue to have that life guidance for her. It gave you a lot of meaning. 

When Mirabel was advising her grandmother, you busied yourself with the other tasks demanded of your head of servitude job. That included but was not limited to meal preparations, cleaning, making beds, washing laundry, explaining to Camilo that he has to understand that he cannot go into the female servants quarters even if he was “technically a female servant right now”, and finding meaningless ways to make even more spaces within the Castillo aesthetically appealing. 

There were a few times in that week you would reorganize a room just for the heck of it to give you some purpose, and Castillo’s tiles and walls would shift, rattling and making a satisfying domino effect, pushing the furniture back into its proper places. This was often accompanied by a sigh, because you knew Castillo could tell you weren’t doing it for your job, but rather, for your own fulfillment. 

It was getting boring. You loved your job, but it seemed without purpose. Mirabel was growing up and doing what she was born to do- be the real miracle. 

You found yourself often going back to Julieta or Agustin during this time to assist them- Agustin because he was always clumsy and needed help with something, Julieta because you could never shake the feeling that she felt like “mom”. About halfway through the week, an interesting conversation happened in the kitchen. 

“Agustin appreciates the attention you’ve been giving him despite the fact he already has three personal servants to keep him out of trouble,” Julieta smiled at you, her down turned brown eyes warm as you mixed dough, her hands busy kneading it. 

A lot of servants helped her cook, and they all bustled around with ingredients and bowls and utensils of all kinds. The smell in the kitchen was amazing, absolutely estupendo. 

“Of course la dama, anything to help the amazing Madrigals,” You replied, smiling at her work. What a unique gift. All she needed to do was lay her hands on the food at some point or another in the process and have it possess that healing power. 

“You might need to get used to it,” Daniela, a kitchen maid, skidded past, only a few years older than you. She put a bowl into the oven, using the fireplace poker to make sure the heat stayed consistent on the food, “I’ve heard Mirabel and her Majesty Reina Alma are getting close. Almost like she is her heiress.” 

You paused, shooting her a glance as Julieta chuckled and shook her head a little, “Mamá still has some kick in her and Mirabel is still only a child, una adolescente, she’s just 15. That won’t be happening soon.” She looked down, and you noticed despite her words she had a giant, proud, motherly smile on her face for her daughter. Always in her corner, just like you. 

“Still,” María, the second kitchen maid and Julieta’s own personal servant, butted in, “Soon to become a royal advisor I’m sure of it.” The older woman set a cutting board down and began to carefully chop up some fresh cilantro, “Perhaps even her own personal asesora real, considering all the advice she's giving Her Reina already,” María sounded more logical, as if stating the simple facts. She glanced up to look between you and Julieta.

“Probably due to be on the royal court this week alone,” Daniela chirped, ever the dramatic gossiper. 

“I’d hope,” You burst, finally speaking up. You beat the liquids and powder in the bowl in front of you with much unbridled vigor that it became mixed as one within seconds, touching the rim and coating one of your thumbs with the batter, “After all these years pushing her to the wayside they finally recognize her talent- oh no! No longer a pequeña oruga, eating up resources and an unpleasant sight. But no, now she's a una hermosa mariposa, glowing with a new miracle… As if she wasn’t already and wasn’t that always!” 

The kitchen completely stills. Both maids and her majesty Juileta all stare at you and the paused image of your aggressively beaten batter and downcast gaze. 

You take your hands off the bowl, lower your head so your scalp is visible to the royal Madrigal in the room, bowing with your hands clutched at your midsection, “I beg your pardon mi señora, I don’t know what got into me.” 

Julieta gives you a small, sympathetic look. She nodded to her two other maids, and both resumed their duties as if not being bothered at all. She turned to you, putting a gentle, caring hand on your tense shoulder, “My dear, levanta la cabeza,” she put a hand under your chin and tilted it up to meet her eyes, “Let’s have a moment, shall we? To the pantry, let’s go.” 

Julieta led you with a hand on your back in the most mothering way you could imagine, whispering, “Danos un momento, ladies,” to her maids as she took you into the pantry closet, closing the door behind her. 

The smell of spices, fresh herbs, and dried meats and proteins hit your nose the moment you were inside. You turned to her majesty, scrambling, “I’m so sorry. I feel she is slipping away from me-” 

“Shh! Shh…” Julieta gently calmed you, rubbing soothing circles on your back, “Honey, I would know how you’re feeling. I’m her mother. Mirabel deserves this, yes, but it feels so whip-lashed for sure.. One moment she comes crying to your side and now she is the heart of the Encanto, what keeps the magic breathing and alive..” she gazed proudly at nothing in particular, before blinking rapidly and looking back at you. “But I know you, and I know this is more than that.” 

You sigh softly, “I just… if she moves on, gets all this power and fulfillment… mine will go. What will I do as my job? Will I ever be happy in my job again?” You shrug then turn your head to the side, not meeting Juileta’s gaze, “Would I have to resign as head of servitude? Leave my job?” 

“Gracious mija! Calm down…” Julieta frantically grabbed one of your hands, making your head turn back to her. 

She gave a worried look, lips pursed and one corner pushed up. Her warm chocolate colored eyes gazed at you for a moment, making sure you were calm and adding extra comfort by being warm and assuring, before she continued to speak, “We all love you here in the Castillo.” She squeezed your hand softly, “If you were to leave I’m sure the other servants and half of the Madrigal’s ourselves would riot-“

This caused you to laugh a little, making Julieta’s smile grow a little bigger. She went on, “You were destined for this, I held you in my hands as an adorable bebita right here in the walls of the El Castillo de Encanto, and you love it! Why leave?” 

“Because I don’t know what’s going to happen and I feel out of control,” you breathed, rushing it out as you gazed at Julieta genuinely. Your brows were furrowed so tight in fear of the admittance and the vulnerability you were in at that moment. You knew your forehead wrinkles probably look ridiculous looking back on it. 

Julieta stared at you a moment, her eyes almost looking confused before they lit with a spark of understanding, “Ah…” She brought you in for a hug, “Oh mija… do not carry that on your shoulders… you were a little girl… there was no way you could control anything…”

You knew she was talking about your mom and dad. 

“You think… that’s where this started?” 

“Yes bebita,” she pulled away from the hug with a small smile, “It was how your mother and father coped too. When they were stressed they ran to control.. rules and order. Sí, I think that’s it for you. You like to feel in control because you felt so out of control when that happened. I’m letting you know right now you can relax, honey. The Madrigal’s and Mí Sobregoneta Familia will always take care of you. Come, come, let’s finish cooking dinner-“ 

You nodded, trying to lean into her words. It made sense in your head but your stomach felt uneasy still. However, logically you knew her majesty was right. Julieta could read you as if you were one of her own daughters. 

By the time dinner had been served your rapidly beating heart had quieted and your mind was at a little bit more ease. 

However, your boredom and lack of personal servitude would soon come to a screeching halt.

~~

“I now announce you as his majesty Bruno Madrigal’s personal servant.”

Queen Alma Madrigal was smiling with her chin up, crown glistening, and back straight with each of her hands placed together in front of her. 

You looked similar. A perfect straight back with knees slightly bent in a bow and knuckles white from gripping your hands together at your middle. However, you didn’t have a smile. You knew your eyes were big and face drained of color. 

That morning started out how it usually did. How it always did. Waking Mirabel up and singing with her as you gently put oils into her curly hair. You decided to brush it back and keep the top of her hair in a cute little ponytail. The sun was warm, and her giggles were sweet, and she had no malicious intentions in her eyes behind those green glasses while she excitedly exclaimed she had a surprise for you.  

When Reina Alma entered the room you bowed as you usually did, not a wrinkle in your skirt nor a stutter in your posture.  However, it was when they both opened their mouths and had you rise from your bow that things got very very off schedule. 

More so, completely flipped around. 

And now her majesty Queen Alma Madrigal has assigned you a whole new job after the one you had exclusively been in since you were a teenager. 

“Oh geez please don’t look like that!” Mirabel walked over to you and grabbed your upper arms, making you look at her. She gave her usual dorky smile, “This is literally perfect for you!” 

“Mí mijo,” Alma stepped forwards, whispering as she took a more casual stance with you- something so surprising since the Queen really, really cared about her royalty and the whole strict regime that went with it, “He’s… Struggling. He is always late to family dinner. He’s not getting up on time. He’s too nervous to use his gift and to go out into town. We have tried what we can to convince him, and he…” she stopped, swallowing, looking at her granddaughter. 

The bright butterfly continued for her royal family member, “He refuses a personal servant. I think he’s just shy. Maybe embarrassed. And probably really scared.” She smiled at you softly, pushing up her glasses and continuing, “He really needs some order and routine right now.” 

Okay, now she was clearly trying to cater to you. 

Queen Alma stepped forward and stooped down a little to your eye level so you could see her scalp, placing her royal, magical hand on your shoulder and it made you feel so humbled. However, she herself humbled instead, looking into your eyes and meekly begging, “You did such a wonderful job making sure Mirabel grew up, despite my best efforts, knowing she was good enough and could be happy.” You relished a little bit in how the Queen openly admitted her faults when it came to Mirabel, and you relished even more in the small, soft, warm smile the two shared after her words. “You are so talented and wonderful at what you do. You clearly care for the El Castillo de Encanto, the magic itself, and our family. Extend your helping hand to me, once again, but allow me to ask for the betterment this time,” Alma moved to stand up straight, putting her hand under your chin with her fingers curled in so only the knuckle of her pointer finger gently nudged your chin upwards too, “Mí Brunito needs you. I believe your magic touch-“ her lips curled in a small smile making you smile too- “will break him out of his shell and let him relax in his new life. I want more than anything to let my son know he is valued by the Encanto, by our blessing, by our family, and more so, to be proud of himself the way I am now so much more proud of him.” 

You let out a sigh exclusively from your nose, shutting your eyes for a moment. 

Everything made sense. You had to let go of Mirabel. She is grown up now. You were being put in a position where you were needed most. 

You thought of your dad. How he used to take care of Bruno. How he implored people to be kinder, how he saw his master and friends true nature and how it deeply distressed him when nobody would see it too. 

You thought of what happened when Bruno disappeared.

You opened your eyes. You wanted to fulfill the legacy set before you by two people just as loving and passionate as you were. 

You have a small nod, looking between both of the Madrigals, “I would be honored to take his majesty Bruno Madrigal as my master.” 

Both of them smiled. Soon, there were four arms wrapped around you in a hug.

In the distance you heard the faint noise of sand in the wind.

Fair warning, future chapters will have smut. 18+ I will tag it when it's appropriate Correct me on any spellings, bad grammar, and ESPECIALLY on poor translation. Thoughts? Feelings? If you have none: what kind of royal would *you* be?

[tbthqs]

FINAL - MISSÃO RESCUE HEIST

O relógio dentro da caçamba do caminhão marcava 12h15 e sua cabeça ainda doía, e você não sabia se era por conta do cheiro do óxido nitroso ou de tudo que aconteceu desde que acordou naquela manhã. Com suspiro cansado, você se reclina em seu assento, em buscar de qualquer forma de conforto, mesmo sabendo que nessa altura do campeonato é algo impossível. Você vê a Dra. Quarks em silêncio e com uma expressão vazia, muito diferente das caretas entediadas com as quais você está acostumade a vê-la.

É nessa hora que o carona que estava sentado na boleia se levanta e você não o reconhece, ele é homem, um pouco mais baixo que Quarks. Possui cabelo escuro, penteados para trás, com a barba bem feita,Seu rosto tem traços bem definidos, aparentando estar por volta dos 40 e estando em um clima diferente do seu e dos seus colegas de classe, apesar da preocupação visível quando ele olha no relógio de ouro que você reconhece como o relógio que Daniel Lewis ganhou no natal antes do primeiro experimento do Projeto Chronos I e que estava com Arabella.

"Bom senhores." Ele começa a falar quase gritando, caminhando a passos lentos pela carreta. Parece nem se incomodar pelo balanço do vagão. "Apesar de tudo, a missão foi um sucesso. A LeBlanctech, e a LeBlanc Tower I, por tabela, são coisas do passado." Ele mexia em um tablet, lendo o que estava escrito ali. "Para todos os efeitos, vão dizer que foi um vazamento de gás no segundo subsolo que enfraqueceu a estrutura e que Gilles LeBlanc morreu bravamente salvando seus funcionários. Que poético." Você nota o tom de desdém e sarcásmo na última frase dele quando ele dobra o tablet e guarda no bolso da jaqueta. "Para quem não me conhece. Eu sou Dr. Griffin, mas podem me chamar de Henry ou Griff, nunca senhor Griffin. Minha colega aqui, a dra. Quarks se encontra indisponível para falar no momento, mas assim como ela, eu faço parte do Projeto Chronos. Não se preocupem com seus colegas, o Dr. Wang e a Senhorita Parton já estão sendo trazidos para se juntarem a vocês. Aparentemente, a Senhorita Lockhart foi morta pela Senhorita Lewis, após Lockhart atirar na Senhorita Zhanlan, enquanto vocês estavam sob efeito do Pscilotiabidiol, um gás usado para tratamento de PTSD no futuro bem distante daqui. Gilles LeBlanc usou em uma dose cavalar, na esperança de matar todos vocês de overdose ou que vocês matassem uns aos outros. Nesse processo, a senhorita Lewis quase matou o Senhor Kingsley, que foi salvo pelo Dr. Wang e pela Senhorita Parton. O Senhor Kingsley se encontra em cirurgia no Los Angeles County General, e não irá se juntar a nós para o nosso destino final." Seu olhar se cruza com o de Griffin e você não sabe se pode confiar nele ou não, mas você está cansado demais para pensar ou reagir. "Estamos indo para o porto de San Fierro, devemos chegar lá em 10 minutos ou menos. Lá vocês poderão trocar de roupas, tomarem banho e comer alguma coisa. Recomendo que seja apenas um lanche leve, já que os senhores foram bem sucedidos em sua missão, ao ponto de resolvemos que, em 2 horas, vocês serão mandados de volta para 2024. No mais é só isso." Griffin caminha novamente para o seu lugar na boleia, junto de Milton, e você se deixa fechar os olhos por alguns minutos, imaginando que daqui a duas horas todo esse tormento irá acabar e você vai estar de volta a sua vida mundana, sem muitos acontecimentos.

Missão: Rescue Heist

Objetivos Primários

Recuperar o livro de registro feito por Alexander Kalman do Projeto Chronos.X

Destruir os itens que Gilles e Leo LeBlanc trouxeram para 2014.X

Objetivos Secundários 

Resgatar os presos na cela de contenção da Merryweather na LeBlanc Towers.X

Impedir a reunião de acionistas convocada por Gilles LeBlanc.X

Contagem de Mortos: 6

Informação OOC

O Rescue Heist se encontra encerrado

Os seguintes personagens foram mortos durante o Heist: Olivia Priestly (The Wallflower - @wxllflowers), Donna Zhanlan (The Nepo Baby - @oldmxneys) e Celeste Lockhart (The Anti hero - @thebclly).

Os Skeletons The Wallflower e The Nepo Baby ainda se encontram indisponíveis, enquanto o The Anti Hero está aberto para uso para aplicação.

A personagem Harper Wang (Oc não viajante - @chefhwang-archive), acaba de ser promovida para o lugar de Olivia Priestly no Projeto Kali, assumindo a label de "The People Pleaser" e deverá escolher se quer ou não voltar para 2024.

Os personagens que são OC não viajantes devem decidir se querem ou não voltar para 2024 com o grupo.

Todos os itens conseguidos durante as investigações e que faziam parte do inventário dos seus personagens sumiram, exceto pelo diário de Robert Lockhart, que ainda se encontra com Vincent Kingsley (The Fallen One - @thefallen-archive) e por aqueles que eram de posse original dos personagens.

Todos os personagens recebem 20 pontos livres para serem usados na parte "Atributo" da Ficha de Atributos da task 4 e um slot de habilidade livre para habilidade até - 10 pontos.

[obeythetoaster]

Gran Destino Tower, Disney's Coronado Springs

[singularity-and-co]

Singularity walked through the portal, dragging the two mortals behind him. The swirling space twisted and warped around the three of them. Destino was about to comment on this when time paused for them and their friend. They both fell into a sleeping-like state. Epoch stood to the side, arms crossed looking angrily at his brother.

Singularity: Thank you for that. I was hoping you’d be here. It’ll make wiping their memories so much easier.

Epoch: Of course.

Epoch approached Singularity and punched him. Singularity went stumbling back from the impact, his brother towering above him. With his voice lowered, Epoch spoke down at his brother.

Epoch: Don’t you fucking dare do that shit again. Do you have any idea how long I have had to keep time frozen for? Especially during this particular moment in their timeline. You’re a fucking idiot, Singularity. An absolute fucking idiot. You’re lucky this shit is easy to fix.

Singularity looked up at his brother, whose height could intimidate most.

Singularity: Listen my dear brother. Nothing bad has happened, has it? All I did was take these two out of the timeline for a bit. They’re going back now and, as you said, it’s an easy fix. I don’t need you coming in here just to give me the same lecture I know the old man is gonna give to me. They’re fine.

Epoch: They're fine? Oh yes, I'll just ignore the massive bruise on Destino.

Singularity: Ah yes. Could you fix that?

Epoch sighed. His brother was incredibly frustrating. With the click of his fingers, he reversed the damage done to Destino.

Epoch: Done. Now hurry up. I hate having to use my powers for this long.

Singularity raised his hands above their heads, a swirling black mass forming in them. Singularity thought for a moment. It seems a shame to completely wipe their memories, especially when the Pokémon that interacted with them would remember those two and what they had done. But, he knew father would be incredibly angry if he even kept a slither of their memories of the event with them. Hmm...

[jazzandother-blog]

Johnny Winter

The first time I saw Johnny Winter perform, I was fortunate enough to be able to talk to him. It was in London, in 1969, at the Royal Albert Hall. There I realised what the blues meant to the towering, cross-eyed guitarist: it was his only reason for living. And, curiously, his way of thinking was a strange mixture of southern sensibilities, with all the backwardness that such militancy contains, and of vindication for black people. Winter might as well have been a battle-hardened gentleman in 'Gone with the Wind', or a member of an anti-abortionist sect in Dallas; but he was fighting for the recognition of his idols in the blues, the only music he dreamed of and drank. He would have given his life to be Robert Johnson, Son House, Muddy Waters, or another similar hero, but fate had him born into a fairly white family. Nevertheless, his throat makes us forget the cataract of albino hair that crosses his face when he performs. That heartbroken cry seems to come from the bowels of an Alabama cotton worker, if not from a street in Granada's Sacromonte neighbourhood. Johnny Winter has been and is a musician in constant search, loyal like few others to the root of all rock, playing feverishly with the guitar, walking along the edge of the heroin cliff, falling under its spell, detoxified, and victorious at the end of the battle. The blues has saved him once again.

La primera vez que vi actuar a Johnny Winter tuve, además, la fortuna de poder hablar con él. Fue en Londres, en 1969, en el Royal Albert Hall. Allí me di cuenta de lo que el blues significaba para el altísimo y bizco guitarrista: era su única razón de vivir. Y, curiosamente, su forma de pensar era una extraña mezcla de sensibilidades sureñas, con todo lo que de retrógrado contiene tal militancia, y de reivindicaciones por el pueblo negro. Winter bien pudiera haber sido un aguerrido caballero en 'Lo que el viento se llevó', o miembro de una secta antiabortista de Dallas; pero eso sí, luchando por el reconocimiento de sus ídolos dentro del blues, la única música que soñaba y bebía. Hubiera dado la vida por ser Robert Johnson, Son House, Muddy Waters, u otro héroe similar, pero el destino le hizo nacer en el seno de una familia bastante blanca. No obstante, su garganta hace que olvidemos la catarata de pelo albino que le cruza el rostro cuando actúa. Ese grito desgarrado parece brotar de las entrañas de un trabajador del algodón de Alabama, cuando no de una calle en el barrio granadino del Sacromonte. Johnny Winter ha sido y es un músico en constante búsqueda, leal como pocos a la raíz de todo el rock, jugando febrilmente con la guitarra, caminando por el borde del precipicio de la heroína, caído en su encanto, desintoxicado, y vencedor al fin de la batalla. El blues le ha salvado una vez más.

(Fuente: Carlos Tena, Sentir el Blues, Ediciones Altaya, 1995).

[mewfun]

*Destino approached Knave, body pillow fully in view.*

Destino: Ah, the jester. I assumed Reshino would have some form of entertainment but did she really have to pick you? Couldn't she have picked someone better? Honestly, that outfit is so 2 centuries ago. Perhaps update it with something somewhat decent. Do you know what colour coordination is? Whatever, entertain me. Do your best trick, fool. Or do I have to stand around waiting for a useless idiot to actually do their job?

"Ah I must thank you for your so kind compliments your highness! Altought I will say this outfit is older than just two centuries I am afraid."

He gave a smirk altought his eyebrows showed annoyance.

"And you wish entertainment? Very well. I can give you that. Oh I assure you that I can!"

He summons some cards and quickly makes a small card castle.

"But that's boring no? So little and innacurate..."

He starts summoning more cards. And they pile on and on until... Well that's quite a big card castle? Card tower? Both?

"Now this is more fun! However like all good things... A simple unexpected event and..."

He falls on the cards breaking the castle.

"It's all beautiful ruins!"

[thewildfl0wer]

Han Beatrice

Edad: 42 años

Ocupación: Fiscal Distrital, ex funcionaria del Tribunal de Seúl.

Orientación: Heterosexual

Nacionalidad: Británica Coreana

FC: Jung Ryeo-won

De alguna forma Beatrice renació, con un nombre diferente, una apariencia diferente, era una mujer distinta desde que decidió estudiar derecho.

Su vida a tomado muchos caminos, de pasar de ser una chica reservada, sin un destino claro, preocupada de estar bajo la vista de tantas personas que la podrían juzgar, a ser una mujer que muestra trasparencia y sentido de justicia a quienes necesitan, sin importar las amenazas de los bandoleros.

Sabe que su corazón esta débil por su miocardiopatía hipertrófica, sin embargo, tiene una mirada más positiva y de disfrute, sin importar lo que diga el resto.

Es fácil reconocerla por su belleza que la hace verse una mujer más joven, su cabello suelto castaño, y sus ropas que tienden a los colores beiges, oscuros y a cuadros.

Curiosidades

El nombre de Beatrice significa "Aquella que da felicidad o mujer alegre y bienaventurada", nombre elegido por sus padres católicos y que ahora es su nombre social y como se presenta, debido a las constantes amenazas de muerte y acoso que ha recibido por su labor como fiscal.

Vive cerca de la N Seoul Tower, teniendo una vista de kdrama, viendo las parejas reunirse para las primeras nevadas o el florecimiento de duraznos y cerezos.

Le gusta los grupos masculinos de la primera generación de kpop junto con algunas agrupaciones estadounidenses populares en su momento de juventud, incluso ahora, suele escucharlos sin vergüenza. Hay pocos grupos de las siguientes generaciones que le gusta, pero los respeta.

Presenta miocardiopatía hipertrófica controlada desde hace veinte años, por lo que debe llevar un reloj inteligente para monitorear su pulso. No le ha interesado en tener citas arregladas, debido que los hombres que le ha tocado interactuar no se arriesgarían a tener una relación con una mujer enferma.

Su fruta favorita es el durazno.

Le gusta mucho los animales.

Ha tenido dos exes en su vida, Yong Minho y Noh Doyun. El primero su amor de escuela que duro tres años hasta el año sabático de Beatrice mientras que el segundo duro ocho años, cuando cumplió 31.

[r3starttt]

VAMPIRE ELLABS

AN: art creds to the insanely talented @guacemolyarts !!!!! (link on the title)

TAGLIST | KINKTOBER: @s4pphic-myth @levilvrr @girlkisser168 @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @softlikesilk-chiffon @grey-jedi12 @slut4ellienabby @roos4lm4 @elliezlils11utt @1-800-fantasy @ellieswifee232 @roos4lm4 @rob1nbuckl3ys @abbys-muscles @0court @dinakisser @lott6i @imagoddess1 @viajeros--sin--destino | @clairoscharm this is so yummy

You felt them before you saw them. They had hunted you before, night after night, as if drawn by some unspoken bond, their presence haunting your dreams and shadowing your waking hours. Each time, you managed to escape—barely slipping through their grasp, hiding in shadows and narrow alleyways. But anyone who dared to listen to your whispered fears, those few brave enough to heed your warnings, either mocked you or, worse, woke up dead. Now, standing alone under the canopy of ancient trees, you felt that familiar shiver crawl over your skin—a sick intuition that you were no longer alone.

Your fingers tightened around the dagger in your hand, its edge glinting under the pale moonlight. It was your last defense, your only comfort as you backed away, surrounded by the towering trees. But then, a cold hand snaked around your arm, freezing you in place, its touch delicate but unyielding. You looked down to find a hand with slender fingers, cool and pale as porcelain. “Leaving so soon?” a voice murmured, low and velvety, as if savoring every word. The voice alone was enough to make your heart stammer, sending an electric shiver down your spine.

You turned, your gaze falling on a brunette with piercing green eyes—Ellie. Her gaze pinned you in place, both beautiful and deadly, like a predator savoring its prey. Those green eyes were otherworldly, almost too perfect for something as flawed as a human—if she could even be called one. The slight smirk on her lips hinted at amusement, as if she found your resistance charming.

Before you could react, another presence pressed against your back—a taller, more commanding figure whose strength radiated from every inch of her body. Abby, the blonde, whose hair seemed to drink in the moonlight like it was made of silver, rested a firm hand on your shoulder, her grip a strange blend of gentleness and strength. You barely got a proper glance at her, but you could feel the power radiating from her, the unspoken promise that you would go nowhere. “We’ve been waiting for you,” she whispered, her warm breath ghosting against your neck. Her voice was a sultry purr that sent a shiver through you, both terrifying and undeniably thrilling.

Ellie’s fingers traveled up, reaching your chin as she tilted your head, forcing your neck to arch, baring the vulnerable pulse beneath your skin. She leaned in, her lips just a whisper away from your throat, close enough that you could feel her cool breath tickle your skin. “Are you afraid?” she whispered, her voice a dark, teasing melody. The dagger slipped from your hand, falling into the soft earth with a muted thud as Ellie’s fingers tightened around your wrist, her grip effortlessly taking away any hope of escape.

Behind you, Abby’s hand slid from your shoulder to your waist, her touch steady but hungry, as if the mere feel of you under her fingers could soothe a gnawing ache. Her gaze held an almost reverent longing, her lips parting as her eyes traced over you. She was reserved, composed, but the raw hunger in her gaze was impossible to miss—a hunger that was barely restrained.

They exchanged a glance over your shoulder, a silent conversation, a wordless agreement that passed between them with predatory ease. Abby’s hand tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, until your back was flush against her chest. The scent of her, dark and intoxicating, filled your senses, making you dizzy. Her other hand found its way to your neck, pressing you gently against her as she leaned in, her lips brushing against the edge of your jaw, her fangs grazing your skin just enough to leave a faint, tingling line.

Ellie’s hands traveled to your hips, her fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles, her gaze darkening as she drank in your nervousness and your unwilling excitement. Her lips parted, and her breath feathered against your skin as she whispered, “We’ve waited so long for this.” Her fingers moved upward, pressing your neck gently, just enough to send another thrill through you, anchoring you in the horror and ecstasy of the moment.

You couldn’t move, couldn’t think—caught between the two of them, their cold hands and warm breaths overwhelming you. Abby’s hands slid lower, brushing against your stomach, her touch a ghostly caress that left a trail of anticipation. Her yellow-tinged eyes, filled with a dangerous yearning, met Ellie’s own dilated pupils, her gaze gleaming with barely-contained hunger.

Ellie leaned in first, her lips finding the pulse at your neck, pressing a soft kiss to the skin before her fangs grazed your throat. A shiver ran through you as her tongue flicked out, tasting you, savoring the warm rush of your skin. She sucked gently, a mockery of affection, her lips leaving faint marks as if to mark you as hers. Her fangs pierced your skin, sending a sharp, hot pain through you, and you gasped, the sensation both agonizing and oddly euphoric.

As a quiet whine escaped your lips, Abby’s hand cupped your face, turning you toward her, her fingers brushing your cheek with a gentleness that almost felt like love. Her gaze softened just a fraction as she looked down at you, her lips parting in a tender smile, her thumb brushing your lip in a gesture so intimate it left you breathless. “Shh,” she murmured, her voice a soothing lull. She leaned in, her lips finding yours, pressing a kiss so soft, so heartbreakingly gentle, that it left you trembling.

But the kiss only lasted a moment before her hunger overcame her restraint. Abby’s lips left yours, and her fangs pressed against your skin, right where Ellie’s bite had begun to fade. She bit down, harder, less restrained than Ellie, her grip on you unyielding as she drank deeply, each pull sending a wave of weakness through you, mingled with a strange, haunting euphoria.

You could feel them draining you, your heartbeat slowing, your vision blurring, as their hunger claimed you. The pain had softened into something strange, something that mingled with the intensity of their touch, the weight of their gaze, the cool caress of their fingers on your skin. You felt yourself slipping away, and yet, you weren’t afraid anymore.

You were theirs now, bound to them by blood and the dark thrill that pulsed between you.

The pleasure growing from the slightest touches over your pussy only makes the blood sweeter, more addictive.

You lay between them, naturally held by their bodies. Their fangs suck on each side of your neck, Ellies hand rubbing your clit while Abby massages your nipples, her cold arms hugging you still from the stomach. Her elbows almost hit into your ribs.

You whine and cry, not really because of the pain but because of how bad you need them and how ashamed you are for your sins. The pretty necklace on your neck shining- it was blinding at first. Their presence is as good as their touch and the praise of it all. "Please-" Ellie's nails pierce into your clavicle, her fangs deep into your neck, you can feel it's too deep this time by the obscene slurp of it and the warmth of your blood now runing threatening fast down your skin. And you get dizzy, the little light blinding until Abby's hands leave your nipples to go down you pussy, this time beneath the clothes.

You're so wet and she laughs at it, mocks you silently. Her fingers scissor your folds until she thrusts at you with ease. Each of them accompanied by the slap of her hand against your clit. "Look at you.... so sweet for us, baby. Such a good fucking girl." Ellie craddles your face sweetly.

Your blood drips down her own neck, almost matching you. It's truly the sweetest sight one can die to.

[ask-the-royal-absol]

(Note: there is a poll at the end of this. This will affect the ending of the story.)

Hope headed towards the dining area, the inevitable conversation with her father looming in her mind. How was he going to react? Poorly, she imagined. Much like other conversations, she pictured him going on about how the kingdom would react or perhaps about how she would be letting everyone down. That was a classic. No use delaying it.

Turning the lower handle of the door, Hope spotted her father chatting with some of the waiting staff who were carrying a variety of different breakfast items. Sausages, eggs, beans, waffles. They really were going all out for this meal. The long table that sat in the centre of the room was already covered with a variety of foods. How much more were they willing to add to it? She supposed there was Destino’s entourage that also needed to eat but she knew the waiting staff would summon them after they had all eaten. This still seemed a little excessive.

King Flint spotted his daughter moving slowly towards him, almost dragging her feet. Considering the conversation they had yesterday, it seemed Hope still wasn’t over what he had said. Well, today was a fresh day. A new start. He had hoped she had reflected on his words and realised the severity of her actions. Flint moseyed on over to her, big smile stretching across his face.

No response came from the blaziken. She looked down towards him and he could read her expression all too well. “Are you still hung up about last night? You understand my reasons for why I got a little angry, right?”

“Yes…it’s not that however,” Hope spoke with a sigh. Not about last night? Flint was certain that it was. What could be plaguing his little girl’s thoughts? Flint looked more attentively at her. “The Guardian visited me last night,” Hope said.

“Ah I see! Did you tell her you no longer could do the job that she wants you to do? She’s definitely aware of your busy schedule.” Flint could see Hope fidgeting on the spot. That wasn’t a good sign.

“No, I didn’t. She, erm, told me that I am a part of the prophecy. That I’m one of the six chosen alongside Destino. That’s why she wanted me to get them.”

As soon as Flint heard those words, his body tensed up. His daughter? One of the ones destined to save the world? No. That couldn’t be right. It was an impossibility. He shook his head at the idea. He noticed a couple of the staff had paused their activities for a second to look in their direction, confirming whether what they’d heard was true. Flint glared towards them which gave them the prompt to continue on their duties without disturbing them. Flint had to sort this out.

“Well, you’re not going with them, are you?” He could see Hope growing more and more uncomfortable with the conversation. Her head hung low.

“I don’t know.”

Flint had to make her see his side. To understand the gravity of her claims. “You know if you do, you’ll be betraying this kingdom. They need a leader like you to be there for them. Are you planning on abandoning them now after what you did yesterday?” He hoped this would make her reevaluate. Back down from this conversation. Hope, instead, did what she usually did in these kind of conversations and spoke back to him. Some more heads turned towards them.

“But what about saving the world?” Hope protested. Flint could see Hope’s feathers getting ruffled up from this. She stepped towards him, towering over the smaller Pokémon.

“The Guardian can pick someone else!” Flint argued back, “Surely this prophecy isn’t set in stone! You don’t need to be a part of it. There are plenty of Pokémon that are more suited to fit that role!” He could feel his face turning red. He was livid. The Guardian never told him that Hope would be needed! How dare she not come to him first. Hope was about to counter her dad’s point but a quick silencing motion with his finger stopped what she was about to say. “Quiet now. I don’t want to hear any more about this prophecy business from you unless it’s talking about Destino, alright? I need to have a long think about this and see if I can put a positive spin on this whole affair.”

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

Destino, after dealing with those troublesome Pokémon that had bothered their morning routine, decided to head out of their room for some breakfast. Felix joined too, thoughts still lingering about that thing that had happened to them. They wandered the corridors that seemed to stretch on forever for some time, looking everywhere for the dining room. Each corridor looked the same to Destino. How many rooms did this castle need to have? It really spoke to the level of resources Terrestria had been blessed with to know they could afford having them all. Though, it meant the layout of this castle was rather confusing. Destino knew, if they ever wanted to expand their castle, they would make it so it was easy to get through. None of this searching around to find a particular room.

Soon the pair stumbled upon a wooden door at the end of a corridor. Before Destino could turn the handle to peer inside, the duo heard muffled sounds coming from the other side. Destino considered the tone of these sounds and it seemed like Hope and her dad were having an argument. Drama! Exactly what they loved! Wild that happened with Hope. Her and her dad seemed to have an ok relationship. That just made whatever they were talking about all the more juicy. Destino pressed their face against the door to listen to the rather heated conversation.

That last sentence struck a cord with Destino. That certainly was a change from the jovial man Destino had met yesterday. What did he mean by that? That Flint had her entire life planned out? Eww. Destino would never let that happen with their parents. Sure, the pair were demanding at times but they would never say something as ridiculous as that. It was just weird hearing these manipulation tactics coming from a man that laughed at whatever came his way.

From what Destino could gather from this small snippet of conversation, it seemed King Flint wasn’t letting Hope go with them on their prophecy expedition because he was worried about her safety or something. Destino didn’t see what the big deal was. Hope appeared capable of dealing with whatever could come her way, considering how she destroyed the bars to her cell back down below. Were the fairies really that bad? It definitely gave Destino more of an incentive to get rid of this Prince Kader they had been tasked to kill.

Lost in their thoughts, Destino completely zoned out of the rest of the conversation. Seemed things had died down. They also didn’t quite hear Felix’s attempts to get their attention. Destino peeled their head from the door and turned to their best friend.

“Now, I suggest we make our entrance as grand as possible. It’d only make sense for someone as spectacular as myself.”

Felix shrugged. “I just figured we’d walk in, pal. I’m pretty hungry and I don’t wanna mess around.”

Destino playfully stuck their tongue out at Felix. “Boo, you’re no fun this morning.” The absol grasped the top handle of the door and turned it. They opened the door with a thud and stepped inside. It was awfully bright but their eyes soon adjusted. What they saw made their eyes widen.

This dining space was huge. Destino and Felix could not believe their eyes. This was a lot to take in. The long dining table that had a bountiful range of differing foods, the huge number of staff attending to the needs of their rulers and the sheer size of the room all added to its impressiveness. Being paralysed by awe, Destino and Felix almost missed what Flint had said to them.

The pair took a seat each at the opposite end of the table to the King and looked upon the range of food items that had been placed upon the table. So many different kinds, many that Destino and Felix had never seen in their entire lives. The Underdark only had berries which became rather tiresome to eat but it was their only option. This was something else.

“Pal, this is somethin’, ain’t it? Imagine if we had all of this down there!”

Felix’s words didn’t fully register to Destino, still looking at the feast that had been laid out before them. What could they even take? Destino was usually all about grabbing whatever they desired but there was so much choice. A couple of glasses were carefully placed near the both of them and one of the waiting staff, a sudowoodo, poured some sort of juice into them. It was orange with pieces of pulp floating in it and reminded Destino of the colour of a razz berry. Felix was already diving into his juice, large smile forming on his face after a single gulp.

Destino glanced towards the King, who was speaking to his daughter in incredibly hushed tones. Hope had placed herself next to him with her own seating arrangements to accommodate her. Destino considered whether Hope actually wanted to sit next to her dad or whether she was made to. Whatever, it wasn’t anything they wanted to get involved in. Before Destino could have a taste of the juice, a plate was placed in front of them. Another item which they had never seen before.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

After having what Destino and Felix considered to be the largest breakfast in their entire lives and the King announcing that the pair would be staying with them for a few days, the duo made their way over to Flint and Hope. Destino thought they would be off today but looks like plans had changed. Probably something relating to this Guardian Hope and Flint had mentioned in their conversation. Speaking of, Hope definitely seemed off, tired almost. There wasn’t that usual level of confidence in her stance. Flint, on the other hand, gave the pair a friendly grin.

“Now, I hope that breakfast feast was alright for the both of you. I wanted to make you both feel real comfortable whist you were staying here. I know Hope has told me that she needs to take you for some training, correct?”

Oh right. Destino remembered Hope mentioning that. Of course she also said that they’d be having a duel too. Definitely a way for them to show off their natural talent for fighting. Destino could see how this battle was going to go. She would come at them, they’d hit her with a night slash and the battle would be over. Destino couldn’t help but put on their cockiest grin, brushing their hair away from their face with their claws. “Training? Oh yes, she had mentioned we’d be having a little duel. Certainly would be nice to see someone be able to match up to my skill but I doubt your daughter will give me much of a challenge.”

King Flint laughed at this, placing a hand onto Hope. “You ain’t gonna let them insult your fighting skills like that, are you chic?” This made Hope snap back to her usual self and she gave a confident smile to her dad. She lowered herself down to Destino’s eye level.

“Dad, do you really think noodle legs over here is going to be much of a threat to me? They can taunt me all they like but we all know that’s just their way of trying to make themself appear better than what they actually are. All talk and no bite. That’s all I see.”

Destino swaggered closer to Hope, cocky grin evermore present. “Oh I cannot wait to prove you wrong.” Just as Hope was about to retort with a witty comeback, Flint stepped between the two, laughing at their antics. Hope took a small step back to give her dad space.

“As much as this back and forth is fun, it’s making me think about the two of you.” Flint gestured toward Destino and Felix. “I know you said that you have a way of getting around without being caught. I’d like to know what that is.” The King was awfully curious about this. Destino’s parents had always arrived using the tunnel and snuck around in order to not get caught. How was Destino going to travel around his city? And why had their parents not used this method before?

Destino, in their usual manner, grinned at Flint. They knew exactly how they were going to blow Flint’s mind. “Ah, you see,” they began with the wave of one of their claws, “we dark types just so happen to have the ability of illusions. Being able to mask ourself is kinda our thing. Of course, many can only create simple visual illusions. Me? I have been given the ability to completely transform my entire image.” Transform their entire image? Like a shapeshifter? Flint couldn’t believe it. Just as he was about to express his doubts about their claim, Destino raised one of their paws above their head. “Flinty boy, get ready to have your entire reality shattered by my awesomeness.”

Flint’s jaw hung wide open, truly astonished by what he had seen. Their face had changed into that similar to a leafeon. An odd choice, he thought, but a convincing one. The quickness of it too. It was in an instant. He had many questions about this. How long was it going to last? What could destroy this illusion? How much core energy did an ability like this use? A thought suddenly crossed Flint’s mind about these illusions. Something he had heard about King Regis and Queen Melody. Perhaps…no. There wasn’t time to be thinking about that possibility. He reached out to touch Destino’s face to feel what it was like, when the absol jumped backwards.

“Whoa hey, this is only for show, alright? Illusions like this break from a simple touch. Can’t have you already coming in destroying my hard work.” A wave of blues rushed over their body, transforming it into that of a leafeon. They were smaller in their disguise, though not by too much. It definitely was passable, realistic-looking even. Not many would look at them and think they were something else. Destino made a quiet comment to themselves about how they had to get used to being a puke green colour to which Hope told them the puke colour suited their personality well.

But what about the Absol’s friend? Flint turned to the ghost type. “So, can you do the same thing?”

Felix, a bit taken aback by the king addressing him, spoke. “Erm, no I can’t. That illusion thing is a dark type skill. I’m a ghost and poison type.” Flint seemed confused by this, wondering how he was going to get around. Felix explained, “I have the ability to posses objects around me, so go inside of them. I was thinkin’ that I could possess their sunglasses but I know it’s gonna be a pain ta talk with ‘em whilst they’re movin’ around.” Felix shrugged.

Flint had heard stories from his childhood of ghost type possessing other Pokémon. It was how you could scare kids into doing what you wanted. He never anticipated that he’d actually be able to see it one day. He had to ask or his curiosity would eat him up inside. “So, you can possess objects. What about other Pokémon?”

“Yeah, I can do that. Why?” Flint’s eyes widened in excitement. He had, what he considered, a brilliant idea. It’d solve the issue Felix had made apparent and, perhaps, allow his daughter to stay with him. Flint immediately took off into one of the many doors that were situated along the walls of the dining room. Hope looked rather confused at her father’s sudden sprint and Destino was quite impressed at the speed in which this man ran. They both looked towards Felix, who was just as surprised as they were.

After a few minutes, the trio saw Flint dragging his loyal assistant, Magmar, by the arm towards them. Magmar looked incredibly bewildered. The king and his assistant stopped before Felix and Flint spoke. “Now, how would you feel about possessing my assistant?” Everyone looked astounded at the king, baffled by his suggestion. Even Hope found the idea to be rather ludicrous.

Magmar, who had not been told why he had been brought here, stuttered, “W-wait, your highness, you brought me here just to let some ghost type use my body?! I don’t think I can let that happen.” The fire type was not one to protest against the king but even he felt this was a bit much. Flint looked towards him, that same friendly smile on his face that he always used.

“Of course! You see, they need to get around the city and possibly the whole of Arkaedia and I figured it’d be easier for Felix here to use you, considering how knowledgeable you are about everything. It just makes sense to me and I’m sure it’d really help Destino, the chosen one, out. It’d also really be helping me out and I know how much you like doing that.”

Magmar understood the implications as clear as day. He had to accept what was being asked of him. He supposed it would be a good way to explore other kingdoms. Perhaps it wouldn’t as bad as he thought. He hoped. Magmar took in a deep breath and faced Felix.

“Alright, I give full consent for you to use my body. Please just don’t make me do anything awful.”

Felix was a little surprised by Magmar’s sudden change in opinion. He felt a little hesitant to do it. Felix had to be certain Magmar was gonna be ok with it.

“Are ya certain? If ya don’t want ta, I can just do what I was plannin’ on doin’ anyway. It may be inconvenient but I really don’t want ya ta do somethin’ ya don’t wanna do.”

Magmar turned towards king Flint, claws slightly trembling. The king gave him a firm nod before he turned back to Felix. Magmar’s voice shook as he spoke. “I’m definitely sure.”

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

Destino (in their leafeon disguise), Felix (using Magmar’s body) and Hope stepped outside of the castle. The sun shone brightly on its blue canvas, cotton candy-like clouds dotting the sky. A small breeze whipped through Destino’s now green hair and the fresh air left them feeling invigorated. Destino was surprised to find out their leafeon form did not require the use of their sunglasses. They figured a simple illusion would not provide their eyes with protection against the sun but they weren’t an expert in how illusions worked. It did mean they could use their sunglasses as more of a fashion piece rather than out of necessity. A nice luxury to have.

The trio strolled outside of the stony castle walls, which took them to the main stretch of the city. Tall, grey, stony buildings towered in rows alongside each of the streets, each with differing designs. Some had columns, others had engravings and some had statues carved into them of different Pokémon. It was surprising to see how much could be done with stone but Destino figured having an abundance of rock types to mould the stone into whatever shape they saw fit would offer options for creative construction. Some of the building had little kaleidoscopic banners that danced with the cool breeze. The streets themselves were all quite different. Some cobbled. Some made from pure concrete. Each unique and strange to walk on. The Underdark’s were mainly made out of cave rock which had a different texture to what was here.

They continued ambling through winding streets, taking in all of the sights along the way. Hope gave a little explanation to the landmarks she thought were especially important. The statue of the torkoal who had brilliant strategic ideas during the supposed war that happened 1000 years ago. The fountain of luck and prosperity which was said to summon the Victorious One if you threw a piece of true gold into it. The dazzling market stalls, each decorated in a variety of brightly coloured banners and selling a wide range of goods to the locals. It was a lot for both Destino and Felix to experience. The most interesting part about this whole city tour to Destino was the fact that nobody seemed to pay attention to Hope. No bows. No signs of respect. Nothing. Perhaps it was what she demanded from her citizens. Destino couldn’t relate.

After walking for a bit, Hope paused and turned to face the pair. She said, “Alright, we have just enough time to head to one more stop. I know Master Farris won’t mind if we’re slightly late. We’ve got four options from here. Champ is a good friend of mine and would probably be interested in meeting you. He runs a little food stall along one of the streets here. Mason deals with interesting stones gathered from your kingdom and I know your parents have spoken with him a few times before. Could be nice for you to meet him. We’ve got the library right in front of us if you’re keen or we could walk a little bit further to head to the volcano. Your choice.”

[miguelmarias]

The Naked Kiss (Samuel Fuller, 1964)

Samuel Fuller y la estética de la provocación

Solapadamente, casi de incógnito, se ha estrenado en Madrid Una luz en el hampa. Tras ese ridículo nombre se oculta The Naked Kiss, la última obra de Samuel Fuller, a la espera del triste destino de ser una de las películas más odiadas del año.

Fuller es un autor completo, pues es productor y guionista de casi todos los films que dirige. Su libertad, como la de Godard, empieza por sí mismo, y no se limita a ser independiente de exigencias económicas, productores y "estrellas", sino que tampoco se somete al público; causa ésta última de no pocos fracasos financieros, por "incompatibilidad de caracteres" entre Fuller y el público. Sin ningún obstáculo que se lo impida, Fuller nos muestra su fuerte personalidad en todas sus películas, sin diluirla a un "término medio" que no molestara a nadie. Así, sus films con frecuencia desagradan a más de un espectador. Esto me parece lícito "a posteriori", pero no en cambio el que esa "repulsa" se base en juicios gratuitos sobre las inclinaciones políticas de Fuller. Porque ha hecho algún film de guerra y de espionaje en que los "malos" eran comunistas se ha tachado a Fuller de fascista. He leído dos entrevistas con él, he visto cinco de sus películas, y sigo sin comprenderlo. Invasión en Birmania (Merrill’s Marauders, 1962) y Casco de acero (Steel Helmet, 1950) son, junto a La colina de los diablos de acero (Men in War, 1957) de Anthony Mann, los mejores films de guerra que conozco, y los más auténticamente antibelicistas de los estrenados en España. Además, Fuller fue condecorado dos veces por luchar precisamente contra los fascistas. Todo eso aparte de que no veo por qué un fascista no pueda hacer buen cine. Pues bien, no creo que nadie se atreva a acusar a The Naked Kiss de fascismo.

Porque The Naked Kiss es un film "negro", género que parece estar renaciendo desde hace unos años (Sed de mal, de Welles; La ley del hampa, de Boetticher; E1 buscavidas, de Rossen; Harper, de Smight; Código del hampa, de Siegel; Sylvia de Douglas, entre los éxitos; El último homicidio o La trampa del dinero entre los fracasos) en mayor o menor estado de pureza.

La osadía increíble de la historia que nos narra Fuller parte de lo convencional, de lo melodramático, para darle un giro de 180 grados y descargar sobre el espectador una verdadera tempestad de imágenes líricas, brutales, insólitas, que golpean la hipocresía de la sociedad y que van demoliendo las apariencias hasta mostrarnos que una pequeña ciudad del Sur de los Estados Unidos y sus habitantes son muy distintos de lo que parece. Un primer acercamiento al film, por tanto, nos lo muestra como una "crónica negra" o una crítica social, y nos hace suponer un estilo realista.

Sin embargo, la cosa no acaba ahí. Fuller, espíritu contradictorio por excelencia, une en sus últimos films dos tipos de cine opuestos y que suelen ir separados: el cine "objetivo" y el "subjetivo". Esto es muy notable en The Naked Kiss y es, al parecer, la esencia misma de Shock Corridor (Corredor sin retorno, 1963, de próximo estreno). Algunas de las mejores escenas de Kiss están basadas precisamente en el paso de lo real a lo imaginario: así, las escenas paralelas en que, Kelly (Constance Towers) sugestiona a los niños inválidos de que tienen piernas y pueden correr y aquella en que el millonario Grant (Michael Dante) "transporta" a Kelly a Venecia con ayuda de películas de "amateur".

Kelly es una prostituta que llega a Grantville huyendo de una venganza. Griff (Anthony Eisley), policía eficiente pero corrompido, es su primer cliente, pero le ordena abandonar la ciudad, no sin antes recomendarle el cabaret de Candy (Virginia Grey), al otro lado de la frontera estatal (luego vemos que es la táctica habitual de Griff: mantiene "limpia" la ciudad y cobra una comisión "extra"). La falta de nobleza de la policía es una constante en Fuller: La casa de bambú (House of Bamboo, 1955). Kelly se da cuenta de que envejece, y "sólo" por eso, decide cambiar de vida. Encuentra trabajo en el Hospital Ortopédico para Huérfanos, creado y mantenido por el filántropo Grant, y pronto cobra fama por la mezcla de dureza y ternura con que trata a los niños (les da órdenes como a piratas, les oculta su cariño para hacerles curarse: véase la escena en que Skip se presenta con sus nuevas piernas artificiales y los ejercicios que ella le ordena).

Fuller, igual que Ford o Mann, tiene fama como "director de hombres". Aquí nos da la sorpresa de conseguir la mejor interpretación de la admirable Constance Towers, que no está fuera de la pantalla apenas un minuto, y que supera sus actuaciones en dos obras maestras de su descubridor, John Ford (Misión de audaces, 1959, y El sargento negro, 1960).

Ya antes de los títulos de crédito conocemos uno de sus rasgos principales: la violencia (fantástica paliza a un borracho). Poco después nos sorprende escuchando la sonata Claro de luna, citando a Goethe y admirando a Beethoven y Lord Byron (acertada selección, pues son grandes artistas, lo suficientemente famosos y románticos para que Kelly los conozca). A partir de ahí vemos que nada es realmente como parece, y asistimos a una serie de escenas violentas (paliza de Kelly a Candy, bofetadas, discusiones), tiernas (los niños paralíticos cantando "Mamie Dear" con Kelly), comedidas (total ausencia de mal gusto en un tema que se prestaba a la sordidez), exacerbadas (interrogatorio de una niña: pensamos en Viento en las velas, de Mackendrick), insólitas (un homicidio a golpes de teléfono, mientras suena una canción infantil: un velo de novia cae sobre el cadáver).

Al final, decepcionada por la hipocresía y la ingratitud del pueblo, Kelly se va. Fuller nos sugiere que vuelve a la prostitución.

La primera vez que se ve The Naked Kiss impresiona, pero deja la leve sospecha de si no será un tanto gratuitamente efectista. Esta sensación puede servir a algunos críticos para acusarla de "mero exhibicionismo técnico", apoyándose en la perfección de su fotografía (Stanley Cortez), de su música (Paul Dunlap), de la planificación (que, por lo demás, es totalmente antiacadémica), de la interpretación.

Pero esta acusación, habitual en los enemigos del cine americano, se desvanece en una segunda visión del film, pues vemos que hay delirio, sí, pero organizado, y que, en el fondo, todo es lógico y nada es gratuito. Las siguientes visiones sirven para admirar la perfección y el rigor de The Naked Kiss, quizá la obra cumbre de uno de los grandes del cine americano: Samuel Fuller.

Publicado en El Noticiero Universal (14 de diciembre de 1966)

[tbthqs]

RESCUE HEIST - 7/10/2013 - O DIA DO HEIST

Você está nervose. Você nunca fez isso antes e todo o destino do mundo estava nas suas mãos... bem.. é um modo de dizer, mas é é mais ou menos como você se sente. Você recebe uma localização e uma hora pelo celular e resolve ir pra lá do jeito que consegue, chegando em cima da hora.

Ao ver a casa, a algumas quadras das Le Blanc Towers, você entende bem que aquilo vai acontecer mesmo e não se trata de uma das histórias idiotas do Ringo ou dos planos sem noção da Kalman. É uma casa discreta, com a placa de "vende-se" na frente, com cara de que logo vai ser habitada, o que faz sentido, já que se alguém desconfiasse do que vocês estão prestes a fazer, não iria desconfiar daquele lugar.

Dentro da casa, todos estão lá, sentados de alguma forma na sala de estar vazia, enquanto a dra. Quarks parece bem menos estressada do que o habitual (mas ainda sim com cara de que mataria um na primeira piada).

"Bom, agora que estamos completos, podemos começar" Ela se levanta e aponta para a parede branca, onde tem algumas fotos colocadas. "Vocês não devem se lembrar, mas até ontem, nós tínhamos 2 viajantes a mais além do neto do professor JJH. Esses três foram apagados da linha do tempo. Não sabemos ao certo o que aconteceu com o neto do professor, e sendo bem sincera, isso não nos interessa, porque estamos com três homens a menos. Por tanto, vamos de abordagem caótica. Vocês estão livres pra fazer o plano de vocês, desde que cumpram os objetivos dessa missão: resgatar o livro com o registro do Projeto Chronos, destruir a LeBlanctec e resgatar os prisioneiros na cela de contenção da Merryweather. É ESSENCIAL QUE TODOS SEJAM RESGATADOS COM VIDA. Os motoristas já estão com a localização dos veículos, assim como o PEM já se encontra esperando quem vai movê-lo. Vocês estão recebendo um rádio e uma escuta, vou estar em contato com vocês o tempo todo. Além disso, cada um vai receber um kit com colete a prova de balas, uma glock 9mm, um kit básico de primeiros socorros uma máscara de gás e óculos de visão noturna.Vocês podem utilizar as armas que vocês tem em seu poder, mas tenham cuidado. Vocês tem 2 horas pra entrar e sair sem serem notados. Podem ir e boa sorte."

Você respira fundo e toda sua vida passa diante dos seus olhos. Era agora ou nunca, em duas horas vocês saberiam se voltariam pra casa como heróis anônimos ou dentro de um saco preto.

Informações OOC

É isso, chegamos pro Heist seus putos kkkkk

Às 21h10, No nosso server do discord, na Aba IC, vai surgir um canal chamado "Rescue Heist" em breve. Assim que o post de abertura aparecer, na central, vocês vão ter 1 hora pra tirar dúvidas e preparar os personagens de vocês para o inicio das interações.

A formatação é a seguinte: tag do tupper: fala- ação - (a ação que seu personagem está fazendo no momento é opcional) Podem ver um exemplo na imagem abaixo:

Também poderá ser feito na seguinte formatação: tag do tupper: fala (insira o gif aqui). Podem ver o exemplo na imagem abaixo:

Vocês pode utilizar os item que tem em seu poder, se forem destruídos durante o evento eles não retornarão ao seu inventário.

Vocês podem utilizar tudo o que acharem importante.Vocês podem recolher itens no decorrer do Heist. Se eles ainda estiverem inteiros até o final, eles passarão a fazer parte do seu inventário

Como informado, cada personagem recebeu um colete a prova de balas, um radio com escuta, uma glock 9mm, um kit de primeiros socorros, uma mascara de gás e um óculos de visão noturna.

Não será permitido o roubo dos itens

Os itens das tasks que ainda não foram enviados serão mandados ao final da dinâmica.

Mantenham a asks box dos personagens abertas. Elas vão ser utilizadas como o celular dos seus personagens e serão enviadas mensagens através delas.

Ao final do evento, será postada na central a transcrição do canal para registro do que houve lá.

Utilizem o sistema de ataque e defesa em caso de confronto não planejado

O Rescue Heist terá a duração IC de 7/10/2013, das 10 ao meio dia, mas em OOC, ele começará ás 21h10 de 20/8/2024 e terminará ás 21h do dia 27/8/2024.

Vocês podem continuar respondendo os turnos anteriores ao Heist enquanto o evento ocorre no Discord

[obeythetoaster]

Gran Destino Tower, Disney's Coronado Springs Resort

[libroresumen]

Torre del Alba de Sarah J. Maas

˗ˏˋ Torre del Alba: Donde la Sanación Se Convierte en Poder ˎˊ˗

¿Alguna vez has pensado que tu mayor debilidad podría ser tu fuente más profunda de poder? Torre del Alba nos sumerge en un viaje donde la vulnerabilidad y la fortaleza se entrelazan en una danza fascinante dentro de la legendaria Torre Cesme.

⋆ título: Torre del Alba ⋆ autora: Sarah J. Maas ⋆ género: Fantasía Épica ⋆ mood: Introspectivo con tensión política ⋆ recomendado para: Amantes de la fantasía que aprecian el desarrollo personal y las intrigas políticas

La historia nos presenta a Chaol Westfall en su momento más vulnerable: paralizado y buscando no solo curación física sino también alianzas cruciales para salvar su reino. El viaje al continente sur no es solo geográfico, sino profundamente personal, entrelazando la búsqueda de sanación con una compleja red de intrigas políticas.

Lo que hace brillar a este libro es cómo transforma la Torre Cesme en algo más que un simple escenario. Entre sus ancestrales muros, donde la magia sanadora fluye como agua, somos testigos de cómo la vulnerabilidad puede convertirse en una forma inesperada de poder. La relación entre Chaol y la sanadora Yrene Towers evoluciona de manera orgánica, añadiendo capas de profundidad a la narrativa.

Mientras tanto, la amenaza de los Valg acecha en las sombras, elevando las apuestas personales a una escala global. Es fascinante ver cómo Maas entreteje las luchas internas de los personajes con el destino de dos continentes.

↳ La exploración única de la sanación como poder ↳ La dinámica política del imperio Khaganate ↳ La transformación de la vulnerabilidad en fortaleza ↳ La fusión de lo personal con lo político

★★★★☆ Fortalezas: Desarrollo de personajes profundo, worldbuilding intrincado, temas universales explorados con sensibilidad Crítica constructiva: El ritmo puede resultar lento en algunos momentos

¿Qué significa realmente ser fuerte? Este libro te hará cuestionarte tus propias percepciones sobre el poder y la vulnerabilidad.

Recomendación de lectura: Disfrútalo en una tarde lluviosa, envuelto en una manta suave, con una taza de té caliente y el corazón abierto a las segundas oportunidades. 🫖✨