#this. and bless her to the ends of the earth she reached out this morning and was giving me updates

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[p0orbaby]

Strike a Pose

summary: you give alexia a spicy Polaroid during your wedding

warnings: SMUT 18+, oh look, more bathroom sex… it’s a classic

a/n: based on this request !

word count: 2.3k

-

The venue is perfect. Alexia has already told you this, oh, about seventeen times today. The twinkly lights are perfect, the cake is perfect, the flowers are perfect. She even said your hair is perfect, which, let’s face it, might’ve been a stretch considering the stylist’s idea of “loose, romantic waves” was more like “windswept hedge.” But Alexia’s riding the high of a woman who has convinced herself that everything, down to the uneven icing on the cake, is divine. And you, well, you’re just trying not to spill champagne on your dress.

Your bridesmaids are a hot mess, but that’s part of their charm. Patri, bless her, has already lost her bouquet twice, and Frido has been flirting shamelessly with the DJ since noon. But it’s Mapi who’s your real MVP today. She’s got nerves of steel and an expression that could sell used cars to the Amish. Which is why she’s perfect for the little mission you assigned her.

At the top table, you and Alexia are sitting side by side, smiles plastered on your faces as endless speeches go on about how “they always knew you two would end up together” and how “Alexia used to be such a heartbreaker before she met you.” You’re listening, but only partially, because out of the corner of your eye, you spot Mapi making her way up to the table, weaving through guests with all the grace of a ninja.

She reaches Alexia first, the Polaroid palmed in her hand like she’s passing state secrets. “A little something from your bride,” Mapi murmurs, too quietly for anyone else to hear, sliding the photo under Alexia’s champagne flute before giving you a conspiratorial wink and melting back into the crowd.

Alexia looks down at the Polaroid, then at you. You give her your best innocent face, which is probably more mischievous than you intended. She raises an eyebrow but picks up the Polaroid anyway, keeping it just out of sight from the prying eyes of the table. You’ve angled your body toward her, ostensibly to hear the speeches better, but really to watch the precise moment when Alexia sees what’s in her hand.

It’s a shot of you from earlier this morning, topless with just the garters on, your lip caught between your teeth in a way that, if the lighting weren’t so flattering, could almost be described as goofy. The photographer, i.e. Jenni, had said something about “capturing the essence,” which apparently means trying to look seductive while fighting back a laugh.

Alexia’s eyes widen just the slightest bit. Her lips twitch, trying to suppress a smirk, and then she bites her lower lip—a move you know all too well. It’s her tell. The one that says, Oh, you’ve done it now.

But she’s got a room full of people waiting to see her reaction to her sister’s speech, so she has to keep it together. She clears her throat, sets the photo back down like it’s just a casual wedding program, and reaches for her champagne. But her hand’s shaking just enough to make the bubbles fizz a little more enthusiastically than usual.

You lean in, your lips barely brushing her ear, and whisper, “Enjoying the view?”

Her eyes snap to yours, and you can practically see the struggle as she forces herself to stay composed. “Are you trying to kill me?” she murmurs back, voice husky in that way that makes your stomach flip like a gymnast on Red Bull.

“Maybe,” you reply, your grin wicked. “Consider it a wedding gift”

Irene’s best woman speech is up next. She launches into a story about how Alexia once tried to cook for you and almost burned the kitchen down. Normally, Alexia would be red in the face, laughing and shaking her head, but right now, she’s got that Polaroid tucked under her leg, sneaking glances at it like it’s the last portion of Pan Con Tomate on earth.

You try to focus on the speech, but you’re too aware of the way her fingers keep creeping back to the photo, brushing it like she’s memorising the feel of it. Her breathing’s shallow, and when she turns to look at you again, there’s a heat in her eyes that could probably set off the sprinklers.

“You know,” she says, her voice a low murmur, “I’ve never been more grateful for tablecloths”

It takes everything in you not to burst out laughing. “I thought you’d appreciate it”

“I’m going to appreciate it later, believe me,” she mutters, a wicked glint in her eye. “But right now, I have to give a speech, and all I can think about is you in nothing but those garters”

You take a sip of your champagne, the bubbles tickling your nose as you try to keep a straight face. “Maybe that’s a good thing. Your speech will be memorable”

“It’ll be memorable because I’ll be stammering like an idiot,” she retorts, though the smile on her face says she’s not really that mad about it.

“Good,” you say, letting your hand brush against her thigh under the table, just enough to feel the goosebumps rise on her skin. “I like you when you’re flustered”

Her hand clamps down on yours, stopping you from going any further. “You are so lucky I love you”

“I know,” you reply, batting your eyelashes at her.

She takes a deep breath, clearly trying to pull herself together. You watch as she glances one last time at the Polaroid before tucking it safely into her pocket, giving you a look that promises payback later.

The rest of the speeches go by in a blur, and Alexia’s is as smooth and charming as ever, though you can see the faint flush on her cheeks, the way her eyes keep flicking to you like she’s trying to figure out how fast she can get you alone.

As soon as the last toast is made, she turns to you, her voice a little rough around the edges. “Bathroom. Now”

You raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Whatever for?”

Her eyes narrow playfully. “You’re asking for trouble”

You lean in, lips brushing her ear, and whisper, “Good. I’m counting on it”

She grabs your hand, pulling you up from the table with a look that could melt steel. “You’re in so much trouble, Mrs. Putellas”

And as she drags you toward the exit, you can’t help but laugh, the sound echoing through the reception hall, turning a few heads but mostly just making you feel like the luckiest person alive.

Because really, who wouldn’t want to marry a woman who gets flustered over a Polaroid and calls you “Mrs. Putellas” like it’s both a promise and a challenge?

-

The bathroom door closes with a soft click, and Alexia’s hands are on you in an instant. The room is too small, too warm, and suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of everything—the rough edges of the sink against your back, the rustle of your wedding dress as Alexia’s fingers grip your waist, the rapid beat of your heart as her mouth finds yours.

You’re both still fully clothed, or nearly, but there’s something about that—the heat, the urgency, the sheer madness of trying to navigate all this fabric—that makes it even hotter. Her kiss is fierce, all tongue and teeth, like she’s trying to devour you whole. She’s never been particularly good at hiding how badly she wants you, but right now, it feels like she might actually lose it if she doesn’t have you right this second.

You pull back for air, breathless, and she’s already moving, her hands on your hips lifting you like you weigh nothing at all. “Up,” she mutters, and you don’t even have time to respond before she’s hoisting you onto the sink, your wedding dress bunching up awkwardly around your thighs. The skirt is a massive thing, all tulle and lace, and it spills over the counter like a waterfall, brushing the tiled floor in a soft whisper.

“Alexia,” you gasp, but it comes out half-laugh, half-moan as she shoves your legs apart, her hands rough but deliberate as they hike your dress up higher. There’s no room for subtlety here, not with the way she’s looking at you—eyes dark and ravenous, like she’s two seconds away from tearing through the fabric with her teeth.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” she murmurs, almost to herself, as she presses her face into the bare skin of your thigh, inhaling deeply. The contrast between the roughness of her actions and the reverence in her voice sends a jolt of heat straight to your core. You bite your lip, trying to keep it together, but she’s already got you half-undone and she hasn’t even really started.

You reach down, tangling your fingers in her hair, and she looks up at you, her eyes locking with yours, and the intensity of her gaze alone is enough to make your breath hitch. She grins, that wicked, lopsided grin that always makes your stomach flip, and then she’s nudging your legs even wider, her hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave marks.

“Keep quiet,” she warns, her voice low and dangerous, and before you can even think to argue, she’s pushing your underwear aside and pressing her mouth against you.

The first swipe of her tongue makes you see stars, and you have to bite down hard on your lip to keep from crying out. Her tongue moves in slow, deliberate circles, teasing you, building the heat inside you until you’re squirming against her, trying to get more, but she’s having none of it.

She’s torturing you, you realise, taking her time, drawing it out, because she knows you can’t make a sound, knows you’re trying so hard to keep quiet, and that’s exactly what she wants. Her fingers dig into your thighs, holding you in place as she works you over with her tongue, and all you can do is grab onto the edge of the sink, your knuckles white as you fight to keep your composure.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your voice eoigh and strained, but it’s enough to make her chuckle against you, the sound sending vibrations through your entire body.

You’re getting close now, your legs trembling as she speeds up, her tongue flicking against you with more urgency, more precision, and you can feel that familiar tension building in your core, winding tighter and tighter until you’re sure you’re going to snap. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your chest heaving, and you’re trying so hard to keep quiet, but it’s getting impossible because she’s just so good at this and you’re so close, so close—

And then she pulls back, her breath hot against your slick skin, and you actually whimper, the sound escaping before you can stop it. “Please,” you breathe, your voice shaking with need. “Alexia, please”

She looks up at you, her lips glistening, her eyes wild with lust, and there’s a wicked smile playing on her face. “Say it again,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with power, with dominance, and you know she’s not going to give you what you want until you do.

“Please,” you beg, because you’re barely holding together. “Please”

She makes a satisfied sound low in her throat, then leans back in, her mouth latching onto you with renewed intensity, her tongue moving faster, more focused, and it’s too much, you can’t hold on any longer. You bite down on your lip to stifle your cry, your body convulsing as the orgasm rips through you, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in her arms.

She doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up until she’s wrung every last shudder from your body, and by the time she pulls back, you’re a panting, quivering mess, barely able to keep yourself upright on the sink.

She’s grinning up at you, looking impossibly smug, and it’s all you can do to glare at her weakly, trying to find some semblance of dignity. “You’re terrible,” you manage to say, though it lacks the conviction you were hoping for.

“Hmm,” she hums, clearly unconcerned by your accusation. She presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another, softer one to your hip, and the contrast between her earlier roughness and this sudden tenderness almost makes you want to cry. “But you love me anyway”

You can’t argue with that. You reach down, your fingers brushing her cheek, and she leans into your touch, her eyes softening just a little as she looks up at you. “I do,” you whisper, your voice still shaky from the aftershocks of your orgasm. “God help me, I really do”

She laughs at that, a warm, rich sound that makes your heart swell in your chest. Then she stands, pulling you into her arms, and you bury your face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of her.

“Think they noticed we were gone?” you mumble against her skin, your voice muffled.

“Definitely,” she replies, and you can feel her grin against your hair. “But I doubt they’ll care”

You pull back, just enough to look at her, and she leans down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “We should get back,” she says when she finally pulls away, though neither of you make any move to leave.

“Yeah,” you agree, your voice tinged with reluctance. You glance down at your dress, now a little rumpled but still intact, and give her a wry smile. “You think anyone will say something?”

“Not a chance,” she replies, her voice full of that easy confidence you love so much. She brushes a stray strand of hair out of your face, her touch feather-light. “But even if they do, I don’t think they’ll want to know“

You laugh, the sound light and carefree, and press one last kiss to her lips before finally, reluctantly, slipping off the sink and adjusting your dress. Alexia helps you smooth out the wrinkles, her hands lingering on your waist longer than necessary, and when you’re finally presentable, she takes your hand in hers, lacing your fingers together.

“Ready?” she asks, her voice warm and full of love.

“Ready,” you reply, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

[scary-movies-on-netflix]

HELLBOY: THE CROOKED MAN (2024)

This was okay.  It switches the focus of past “Hellboy” movies from the grand and cosmic in scope to just some weird Appalachian folk horror.

Hellboy starts off with Bobbie Jo as they are escorting a giant spider monster back to base.  It is 1959.  The spider attacks them!  Their train derails and the spider escapes into a tunnel.  Hellboy and Bobbie Jo look for a telephone and come across a local house, where they find a boy who has been bewitched by a…witch.  Did I mention that they are somewhere in Appalachia?  Just then Tom shows up.  He’s been away for a while, and he offers to lead them up the hill to the house of Cora, a local witch.

They reach Cora’s house and find that she is just skin.  They wait for the rest of her to return and Tom fills them in on his back story, involving another witch, Effie, and his encounter with a powerful evil spirit, the Crooked Man.  Tom also got a lucky cat bone out of it, which he still has.  Anywho, Cora returns and fills up her body again, but then Effie shows up on a horse.  She taunts Tom a bit and then flies away (which was neat).  Turns out, her horse was Tom’s dad, who then dies.

The next day they carry Tom’s dad’s corpse up the hill, but Cora levitates in the air and is attacked by a snake.  The snake bites Hellboy, who has a vision of his mother, a witch whom he never knew, talking to the Devil (in the form of a big raven).  The vision ends and then Cora disappears into some dirt.  Hellboy, Bobbie Jo, and Tom reach a church.  They talk to the blind old paster, and then it is suddenly night time!  Bobbie Jo freaks out.  (She’s apparently more into research than field missions.)  She stares at the sun as it suddenly sets and says, “The earth doesn’t spin…that’s not how it works!” 

The Crooked Man appears with a bunch of witches.  Hellboy confronts him, but the Crooked man skewers him with a bunch of fence posts.  Hellboy gets better and then fights off a bunch of zombies.  The paster uses Tom’s lucky cat bone to bless a shovel.  Hellboy uses it to defeat the zombies and then rushes outside and bonks the Crooked Man on the head.  Everyone wakes up in the morning, just as the Crooked Man turns into a crow and flies away.

Hellboy and Tom head up to the top of the mountain to confront the Crooked Man.  Bobbie Jo and the paster decide to enter the coal tunnels under the church to cast a spell or something.  They are caught in the tunnels by a bunch of crows, who pluck out the paster’s eyes and tongue.  Bobbie Jo runs away, only to encounter the spider from the beginning!  She thinks back on a sad thought (just as Cora earlier advised her) and casts a spell in German in weaken the spider so she can catch it.  Meanwhile, Hellboy and Tom reach a big spooky house and start to explore it.  Hellboy has another vision of his mother, who begs him to kill her.  He’s about to shoot her, but then Bobbie Jo finishes her spell, which ends the effect on Hellboy (who was about to blow his own head off).  Bobbie Jo’s flashlight dies, and she freaks out.  The pastor’s ghost leads her out of the tunnels.

At the spooky house, the Crooked Man appears and tosses Hellboy around for a while, but then Tom throws one of Cora’s “witch balls” into his mouth.  Hellboy blows off the Crooked Man’s head.  They walk back to the church.  Hellboy tells Tom that he’s a good egg, and they also find Effie, who is now old (as opposed to being young from earlier).  Tom uses her own bridle to turn her into a horse.  They reach the church and reunite with Bobbie Jo.  Hellboy and she head down the mountain.  Hellboy says that he’s looking forward to the 1960s.  They find a telephone, which they use to call a helicopter to take them away.

This was decent folk horror, but it suffered from being paired with “Hellboy,” which is also action horror, so we have lots of over-the-top action with guns and punches and acrobatic twirling.  Even so, the movie was still effectively creepy and weird.  The actors threw themselves into their roles: Hellboy was typically laconic and distant, and the two witches, Cora and Effie, delivered fine performances.  Bobbie Jo has an actual character arc, discovering her own internal courage and also the power to perform magic.  The computer effects were a bit…wonky, to say the least.  The practical effects, however, were well done.  Unfortunately, nothing really stands out in the memory.  “Hellboy” (2004) had a weird and truly memorable villain in Karl Ruprecht Kroenen.  “Hellboy II: The Golden Army” (2008) had many outstanding set pieces, such as where Liz treats with the Angel of Death.  Even “Hellboy” (2019), which wasn’t a great movie, had that weird scene at the end where demons emerged from hell and started to rip people apart.  This has…Bobbie Jo casting a spell.  In Deutch!

[devil-in-the-details-ay]

19

Chapter 18

After a rocky night, morning brings surprises....

Fingertips danced over the soft skin of Yara’s upper arm. She was still deep within the confines of sleep but Astaroth had awoken hours earlier. His mind kept turning over everything that had happened since his wife had first walked into his office with the information that she was to be his new intern.

Astaroth did not do relationships. He did not do emotional entanglement. Yet, here he was doing both with the woman in his arms with her head resting on his shoulder. Not only that, but he felt a protectiveness and possessiveness over her that he had never felt towards another. Never was he one to share someone he was with, but his reaction should they stray was simply to remove them from his life. Watching the men in the club lust after Yara had awakened feelings within Astaroth that were completely foreign.

How could one simple demoness have so affected him? He did not believe that she was deceiving him, but he wondered if Lucifer had done something. Was there an ulterior motive? Maybe who Yara’s mother was would shed light on what was going on. It was not like suddenly Death would change after being the same since the dawn of time. Yet, perplexingly, he had.

*****

Hours later, Yara awoke, stiĺl finding it hard to believe that Astaroth hadn’t rejected her or left her during the night. His acceptance and the vow he had made the night before were unlike anything she had expected or experienced before. There was a part of her that kept being afraid that this was one of her father’s illusions and it would disappear before her eyes.

As the couple were relaxing together and enjoying the morning breeze in the tropical island mansion that would be their new home, others were finding that their access to the two of them was no longer as free as it once had been. This did not go over well.

Lucifer was enraged. He’d already tried to send messengers to the island, but they couldn’t make it through the numerous wards erected by Astaroth. By creating his own island, Astaroth had created a pocket dimension connected to Earth, it technically didn’t exist ON Earth, and he was the creator and ruler of it. So, in order to enter it, you had to have Astaroth’s permission and only one being in all of creation did: Yara.

It did not take long for Lucifer’s displeasure to reach Astaroth’s office in Hell. His employees were used to dealing with the demon king and knew that there was nothing he could do to them. They answered him with dismissive tones and threw him out of the office, something that enraged him more. He had forgotten that the only reason he'd been able to entrap Astaroth in this whole scheme was repayment of a debt owed.

That Lucifer was apparently having a royal temper tantrum in Hell amused Yara no end. Astaroth had shown her the text messages and videos he’d been sent from friends of theirs in Hell. They really could not have asked for a better wedding present than him losing his mind over not being in control of the situation in the slightest. When he found out where Astaroth was taking her next on the “A&Y World Tour Honeymoon”, there was no doubt that Lucifer was likely to become even more apoplectic. Not that there was anything he could do to separate them after where they were about to go. Lucifer was a demon with no more power than a lesser god, and they were about to visit one of the major ones to have their marriage blessed. No matter what was in that cursed contract of his, after this day, it wouldn’t be worth the time that it had taken Lucifer to come up with it.

*****

“Are you ready for today’s adventure, Papilio?” Astaroth looked over to where she was finishing getting ready. She seemed calmer than she had been before and he hoped that their conversation the night before had set her mind and some of her worries to rest. Later, when things were calm and settled, there would have to be more conversations.

“I might be able to answer that if you told me where we were going!” Yara was laughing as she looked over at her husband and stuck at her tongue. He absolutely refused to tell her where they were going and it was driving her absolutely insane with curiosity. He promised her that she would enjoy it far more than their venture the previous night. At first she hadn’t been sure if he had been joking or if he had been serious.

“We, my beautiful wife, are going to find out who your mother is.” He sauntered over and leaned against the door frame as she froze and looked back at him through the mirror. It was clear that she was in shock, and not quite sure if she could believe him. “Who it is that is going to tell us, that my darling, is a surprise. One you’re not going to find out if you do not get that lovely posterior of yours into gear and finish getting ready.” He winked at her with a sly smile forming.

“You’re serious?” She looked at him skeptically through the mirror, still so surprised by all that Astaroth was doing and had done. The events of the previous night were still confusing to her, but that he had already arranged for them to take the first step in finding out who her mother was completely shocked her. There was nothing about her husband that made sense to her.

Astaroth chuckled and walked up behind her, placing his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. “I have no reason to tease you with something like that. Of course, I am serious. Plus we are going to have our marriage blessed by a full godhead and ruler of a pantheon. So, you finish getting ready and I’m going to scry my friend.” Kissing the side of her neck, he gave her a wicked smile in the mirror and then turned to leave the room, leaving her speechless.

Less than twenty minutes later, she was ready. Astaroth was grinning, his plans coming together beautifully. If he could have Odin sanctify their marriage, then there was nothing Lucifer could do to break them apart, Yara could relax. Odin also had Mimir’s head, the strange oracle, and that was who he hoped would be able to tell him where they could find Yara’s mother. If not who she was, then at least someone who could help them find her. If this didn’t work, he was going to have to go to Delphi, and he hated having to fuck around with the Greeks.

Support banner: @cafekitsune

[idontknowreallywhy]

2 - Absence

Ok ok ok so I can explain.

So what happened was @lenfantdeverone wrote THIS which accosted me early in the morning and I accidentally wrote THIS and then I sort of incorporated that history into a Scott inner monologue in a chapter of Estera which then made me think “well, what actually did happen with Virgil?” which prompted THIS which made people tell me to make sure I fixed the Virg which I absolutely intended to do when I sat down on the train today but it all got a bit complicated and I ended up making it worse.

In summary, this is absolutely @lenfantdeverone’s fault and not in any way mine. I write fluff. FLUFF I tell you.

However I do *definitely* have a plan for making him better, I promise. Just… not today.

Is part of the whole Scott is MIA presumed KIA in Bereznik period. Trigger warnings for that plus mental health and hospital stuff… if that’s going to be difficult for you, handle with care.

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

Virgil kicked irritably at the scratchy soulless sheets and threw himself on to his other side with a quiet growl. Now the unfamiliar dark had a blurry glow of something-or-other in it… he frowned, trying to force his synapses to push through the cloying effects of the sedatives and process what it was. Oh. The lcd display of the tiny clock on the bedside unit gleamed at him. But his eyes were too out of focus to read the time… or were they? He squinted. No… His glass had been removed again and replaced with the hated translucent plastic tumbler that made water taste like it had been drawn from a long abandoned watering can. It was blocking the numbers and now he knew that, it irritated him. He reached out to nudge it to one side but the clumsy half-numb bunch of sausages that had replaced his once dexterous hand swiped it to the floor with a clatter.

He closed his eyes in defeat as a nurse came running and swept away his mumbled apologies with a constant monologue of reassurance. She checked his vitals and he flinched at the stench of antiseptic that surrounded her like a cloud, the cold dead touch of gloved fingers. Everything smelled so cold. There was no song here, not even the comforting background hum of familiarity of home. Just a constant clashing chord of harsh, sterile emptiness.

The nurse finally left with a promise of returning with more of the cursed meds which made him drowsy and incapable of coherent thought but couldn’t take away the ache of loneliness and the sense that he’d lost the better part of his soul.

This was his own fault of course. Barely three months of trying to hold the mantle of big brothering and it had all proved too much. He couldn’t keep the promise. He hadn’t even meant it when he made it because the words Scott had said as he left were just what people in the military always said before they left home. Leave nothing unspoken, make sure they can go on without you. Nobody really MEANT any of it…

He hadn’t believed for a second that he had needed to mean it, that he would step into his brother’s enormous, if technically a size smaller, shoes. Virgil had tried, he’d tried so hard but he’d lost his way. He couldn’t be Scott and he didn’t want to be Virgil anymore because he couldn’t see how there could even be a Virgil without a Scott.

What was the earth without the sky?

He closed his eyes and tried to let himself drift into blessed oblivion but his eyes stung and he found he couldn’t ignore them. He dragged his face over the already damp pillow, trying to wipe away the tears but too many more came.

Cold hands again, brushing the hair from his face and rolling him over. He didn’t want to roll over. They didn’t care. His face was wiped gently with a cheap towel that smelled of too strong soap and he wanted to fight and run away but his limbs were like lead. He wanted to run away and find Scott but nobody would let him follow his brother. He’d always followed his Scotty, ever since he could crawl and he wasn’t going to let a little thing like an exploded plane come between them.

He was dimly aware that saying things like that was perhaps related to why he was imprisoned here and clenched his mouth closed so the words wouldn’t come out and make them increase his sentence. He smiled his most charming smile at the nurse and told her he was fine and Scott grinned his way more charming grin and told him off for stealing his catchphrase.

She squeezed his jaw gently and put the capsule on his tongue. Scotty winked at him. He sipped the water and swallowed obediently. Then closed his eyes and rested his head back on the new, dry but equally hollow smelling pillowcase and tried to look relaxed. There was a discussion at the doorway and it was pulled softly to, but not closed. Easier for them to sneak in and out he presumed.

Slowly, activating every last mental faculty he had, he eased the tablet from between his back right molars with the tip of his tongue and spat it into the palm of his hand. Scotty grinned again and threw it away for him. Together they were going to get out of here.

He just needed to wait.

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

Next bit

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Ribbons and Rainstorms

Chapter 2 : Blanket Nest for Two

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<- Previous | Masterpost | Next ->

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When Roman returned to the house his mother immediately started fussing, calling one of the two maids they hired to get him some dry clothes whilst she made him a cup of tea and chittered about how worried she had been and how long he had been gone and how dangerous that was. She had pushed back his bangs to check him for injuries and gasped, stepping back with her hands clutched over her mouth in surprise. 

“Ma?” Roman asked, now worried by her actions rather than the other way around, “Ma what is it? What’s wrong?”

“My Roman…” She breathed, lowering her hands, “You… you bare the mark of a God, Roman, when did you… how did this happen?”

“I what?” Roman yelped, rushing to the hall where they had a mirror hanging on the wall. He lifted his bangs to find that there was indeed a mark on his forehead. A subtle mark that obviously— to Roman at least— showed a stormcloud that glittered purple right in the spot where the God had kissed him. Immediately Roman went bright red, he hadn’t quite clocked the action in the moment, and had all but forgotten about it as he walked back, but Vi had definitely kissed him. Being touched by a God was something special in itself, but being kissed? What on earth does that mean?

“-oney? Roman honey?” His mother called, waving a hand in front of his face, finally he snapped out of it and looked at her, “Thank goodness, you were staring at yourself for a good five minutes, what on earth is wrong? And how did you get touched by a God? I swear you were only gone an hour!”

“Oh I… well— um—" He shook his head to let his bangs fall back into place, “Well y’see I—"

“If you really don’t want to tell me,” His mother sighed, “I won’t force you, but… just… are you safe?”

“Yes, well, I think so…” Roman sighed, “I… well… we didn’t talk for long, but he didn’t smite me, so… that’s a good start?”

His mother laughed, “Then that’s what matters, okay, honey? A God’s mark can be a great blessing or a great curse, just… all I ask is that you’re careful, alright?”

“Yes ma,” He nods with a smile.

“Good, now get to sleep. You have training in the morning,”

He nodded, taking the clothes from the maid as she appeared around the corner and handing her the cloak before running upstairs, taking them two at a time until he reached his bedroom in their converted attic. 

—-

The next time a storm hit, Roman didn’t stay in his room.

Instead this time as he saw the storm clouds gathering, Roman got his nicest blankets, a few pillows and the book he was reading and stuffed them into a basket before heading out of the door. He hoped to make it to the temple before the rain started to fall. Now that he knew it was safe there he could… well not relax, exactly, but he would feel safer. The God of the Temple himself had told him that it was safe there, and Roman had concluded that he really should have faith in the God whose mark he now bore.

He’d ended up building a makeshift blanket nest between a wall and a pillar far enough away from the entrance that he wouldn’t get wet but not too close to the back wall either. As the rain began to fall he took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself before he attempted to focus on the words he was reading to distract himself from the first booming roll of thunder.

Really, having a fear of thunder in the portion of the country prone to thunderstorms almost year round was a little ironic, really.

There wasn’t much luck to come with reading, though he kept trying. The sound of the rain and occasional crash of thunder was more distracting than the words and he kept getting stuck on a passage. He was certain he had only read a few paragraphs in what felt like hours he had been sitting here (in reality it had only been about half an hour). 

Just as he was starting to think he should give up on trying to corral the words that were swimming across the page and maybe just attempt to sleep, Roman heard something— no— someone— shift next to him. He yelped as his eyes met violet ones and jerked back so hard in surprise that he dropped his book. It must have looked so undignified— wow he’d just completely embarrassed himself in front of a God. Great.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Vi said idly, picking up Roman’s book and offering it back to him. Roman took it back carefully, not breaking Vi’s gaze. The God was so close to him, only just sitting outside of the blanket nest. Roman hadn’t expected to see him again, to be honest. He hadn’t expected to see anyone when he came here. Though, this was Vi’s temple. He supposed he was the trespasser here.

“Um,” Roman said dumbly, “It’s— fine? I wasn’t really doing anything anyway.”

“You were reading,” Vi said, gesturing to the book in his hands.

“I wasn’t really, more like staring at the page and hoping the words would magically make sense,” Roman mumbled, before sighing and putting the book in his basket. 

“I see,” Vi nodded, before poking at his blankets, “I also see that you’ve constructed a… fort?”

Roman couldn’t help but laugh at their curious expression, he supposed Gods weren’t so all knowing after all, “It’s— more like a nest? Of blankets— I guess— It makes me feel safer.”

“Right, and you’re here instead of at your window again because-?”

“I’m… not really sure,” Roman shrugged, “In all honesty, I just— thought I would feel safer here.” 

“I’m glad,” Vi nodded, “It’s nice, to have a visitor, most of my temples remain empty.”

“That’s… sad,” Roman said, hoping that was the right word choice, he really didn’t want to offend the God sitting next to him, “I’m glad I can look after this one, at least.”

Vi nodded, before leaning back against the stone walls and staring forward, not at Roman. He looked uncomfortable, coiled up like a spring and fixated on a single spot. Roman took a deep breath, he wanted to help— of course he did, because he always put himself into stupid situations playing the hero. 

“Hey um—" Roman started, hoping to get their attention, “You look— kind of uncomfortable sitting there, would you… like to sit in my blanket nest with me?"

Vi stared at him, purple eyes wide, before glancing down at the blanket nest and then back up at Roman, "Is… there enough room for us both?" 

"I might have to expand a little— but it shouldn't take long!" Roman announced, carefully raising himself into a crouch and rearranging the pillows and blankets slightly so the nest was better suited for two.

"There," He said, brushing off his hands, "Room for us both, um, it may be a little tight though, I ran out of blankets." 

Vi raised an eyebrow at him and Roman had just long enough to feel sheepish before he stood from his seat outside of the nest and stepped into it, sitting back down. 

“Here,” Roman said, offering Vi the blanket that had been wrapped around himself. Vi stared at him, violet eyes unblinking and Roman wondered if he’d done something wrong, He shivered involuntarily at the cold of the storm wind and Vi’s trance seemed to break. He looked down at the blanket in his hands.

“This is your blanket,” Vi said, it wasn’t a question, they had taken it from Roman, but somehow Roman thought he looked… apprehensive, “You’ll be cold without it.”

“Maybe,” Roman shrugged helplessly, he wouldn’t lie— he wasn’t sure how Gods felt about lying and he was definitely colder now— “But you should have it.”

Vi spread out the blanket with their hands and looked at it, eyes narrowed and Roman watched his face as he came to a conclusion before looking back at him, “I believe it is big enough to share.”

Share? Share?? Was he really about to share a blanket with a God? This was a dream, right? Some kind of weird, whacky dream? He pinched himself, nope, this was definitely real. Vi was definitely here, sitting in his blanket fort with him and offering to share a blanket. This was really, actually happening. Vi was offering him a corner of the blanket. 

Of course he took it, because what the hell else was he supposed to do? 

And besides… the way Vi smiled at him after he'd taken the corner was probably worth it. 

—-

Roman woke up to an unusual discomfort. 

He first registered that he was freezing cold and then that everything seemed to hurt. 

When he looked around, Roman very quickly worked out why. He had fallen asleep sitting up against the wall of the Storm Temple. That definitely explained the pain moving caused in his neck and shoulders and back. The blanket he had shared with Vi — oh stars and storms had that actually happened? — was tucked neatly around his shoulders and his pillow nest had been disturbed in some way he couldn’t pinpoint, though the blankets and cushions seemed different somehow and were packed closer around him than before.

He stretched, letting the blanket fall from his shoulders into his lap and the cold morning breeze hit him fully— even through his clothes (from yesterday, he really needed to change) — making him shiver. 

Maybe he should get going, his mother would be worried that he’d been gone all night, and he really needed something to eat.

From last night there wasn’t much to remember after Vi had joined him in the blanket nest. Being in such close proximity to someone so powerful was surely an experience, Vi had almost been crackling with a passive energy that Roman could never hope to put a name to. He had smelled like an interesting mix of stormy air and the soil after rain and he’d felt so strong and somehow so safe when Roman had leaned on his shou— oh shit Roman had fallen asleep on Vi’s shoulder.

Ok, ok, this was fine, except it completely wasn’t! Sharing a space with a God is one thing, being touched by one is another, but falling asleep on a God’s shoulder when he hadn’t even really been given permission to touch him in the first place? That was something else.

Roman was certain his face was pale as chalk as he gathered up his things into a pile so he could shove them in his basket and run home. It was fine, he was still here, which means that he hadn’t offended Vi enough to get smited (smote?— smitten? no, definitely not smitten). He would just have to come down here next time it stormed, apologise to the God and then never show his face here again! It would all be fine!

When Roman turned to shove his blankets into the basket he realised there was already something in there— besides his book— that he had definitely never seen before. Immediately dropping his blanket pile, Roman reached to pull it out.

It looked to be the size of a handkerchief, or something similar. A square of deep purple fabric embroidered delicately around the edge with a circular border of swirling clouds and silver swords. The centre of the fabric depicted a house, the top window lit featuring a tiny silhouette with a stormy sky and a lightning bolt striking in the distance. 

Stabbed through the fabric was the most interesting looking needle Roman had possibly ever seen. Roman carefully — very carefully — pulled it out from the fabric (after checking to make sure that it wasn’t attached to anything of course). Looking at it, Roman realised it wasn’t a needle at all, but a pin. A hairpin, so be more specific. Roman would not freak out any more than he already was right now, a hairpin?

It was translucent and looked to be made of some form of glass— or perhaps crystal? And it was possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

Roughly, it was just slightly longer than his hand. One end tapered to a sharp point (enough to draw blood, Roman found out almost immediately) and the other ended in a cut circle, precise and immaculate. At the point the pin was almost black, fading almost like mist into purple and then lighter into a translucent silver nearer the other end. When he looked close enough at it, it seemed to be full of tiny, tiny clouds. 

The only thing left in the basket was a piece of… paper? Though it was a dull purple and almost heavy when he picked it up. The corners were decorated with some simple page decor— in sparkling silver ink, the same as the words that were written in staggering handwriting that cut across the page in a way that wasn’t smooth, but also didn’t feel like it should have been.

It started: “To you, because I’m certain you’ll be the only one reading this, and I don’t have a name to call you by regardless.”

The words made Roman smile, of course, he hadn’t introduced himself, had he? He sort of just assumed Vi would already know somehow.

“You looked so peaceful sleeping that I felt it would be a shame to wake you, I hope you enjoy my gifts.  -Vi.”

Vi’s name was signed larger than the rest of the writing, and next to it was a small drawn smiley face, Roman laughed when he saw it, a little smiley face, from a God. It was just so… unexpected, just like… basically all of this. 

Carefully he folded the paper around the pin and slipped it into his pocket, figuring it would be safer there, before folding the fabric and placing that carefully into a different pocket. He couldn’t help but smile as he packed up his blankets. Vi wanted to see him again, which must mean that he hadn’t completely messed everything up by falling asleep. Roman sighed in relief as he picked up his basket and walked down the steps of the temple.

With a wave of surprise, Roman realised he was excited for the next storm when he would get to see his God again.

----

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[humanitysstrongestsoldier1]

𝐀 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 | 𝐺. 𝑆𝐴𝑇𝑂𝑅𝑈 x Reader

TW: Sucide, cursing, angst?

AO3 LINK!!!

Summary:

आँखें तेरी कितनी हसीन (Aankhen teri kitanee haseen): "Your eyes are so beautiful." - Roop Kumar Rathod, Maula Mere Maula

"The universe has a beginning, but no end. — Infinite. Stars, too, have their own beginnings, but their own power results in their destruction. — Finite. It is those who possess wisdom who are the greatest fools. History has shown us this. You could say that this is the final warning from God to those who resist." (Steins;Gate)

But these two star crossed lovers do not wish to heed God's warning because their love surpasses that of history, time and space itself.

A crown prince and a woman who wishes to learn about the darkness and silence of the universe meet. Their fate is entwined and bound through lifetimes from one simple action. And the stars stand as witness.

A Romeo and Juliet/ Ram-Leela retelling...

~~~~

Notes:

This is hella self indulgent cuz i like space, plus gojos eyes remind me of the stars so why not 🤷

most of it was inspired by the hindi song Maula Mere Maula by Roop Kumar Rathod (hindi songs on top)

Once upon a time, there was a crown prince who did not want to inherit his father's throne and a simple commoner who wished to be the greatest scholar but couldn't because she was a woman. The crown prince from the family name Gojo would sneak out of the castle at night to gaze at a graveyard of stars. He would sit under the tree, surveying the dark sky with the specks of light dotting it. One day, when he reached the tree, a girl was there with a telescope and papers in her hands. Instead of approaching her, the prince watched the girl as she aligned the telescope and looked into it. He unknowingly smiled at the little excited jump she made after finding the star. She immediately started writing her findings on the papers with such happiness over her discovery. That night, the prince did not gaze at the sky full of stars because he was focused on the one that shined even brighter than them, the one standing on the earth.

The next night he snuck out, she was there again, this time he went to introduce himself, wishing to know more about her. The girl turned around at the sound of crunching leaves, and her presence was met with the prince’s.

She gasped, immediately curtsied, and whispered, "My prince, I’m so sorry for not acknowledging you.."

The prince smiled and ushered her to rise, and she responded, "No, it's okay. To be fair, I should have approached you yesterday, but I was just too entranced with the way you handled your learnings. May I be blessed with your name?"

She blushed and spoke her name, and the prince repeated it, smiling at the way it rolled off his tongue.

"Can I join you? I would love to peer inside a telescope." He spoke with glittering eyes that shone with hope.

The girl smiled and agreed with excitement about his relaxed stature. That night, the prince stayed out longer than usual to learn more about the girl. He urged her to be more casual with him, and she happily obliged, joyful to gain a friend who also shared an interest in the stars.

~~~~~~~~~~~

One night, the prince laid his head on her lap as they gazed at the stars and asked her a question.

"Y/N? Why do you love astronomy?"

The girl looked down at his sparkling blue eyes and smiled, saying, "The universe is full of mysteries, my prince. Mysteries, which I hope to unravel. The sky calls to me. It calls to us. If we do not destroy ourselves, we will one day venture to the stars."

He hummed at her response: "Do you think there is more to see?"

She brushed a hand through his soft white locks and smiled down at him, saying, "A still more glorious dawn awaits, not a sunrise, but a galaxy rise. A morning filled with 400 billion suns."

"But won't things change in the future?"

"The vision of the future will surely evolve as we probe for more clues. But one thing is clear: The universe has only just begun. I believe our future depends powerfully on how we choose to understand this cosmos and the secrets hidden in it."

He chuckled as he sat up to sit in front of her and said, "You have such a way with your words, my little scholar. The god of poetry himself would bow in front of your gaze."

The girl blushed at his compliment on her intelligence and tucked a drifting strand of hair behind her ear. The prince took his slender hands and caressed her warm cheek before pressing his lips to hers. The girl’s eyes widened at this sudden action, but she slowly melted into his embrace, slipping her hands behind his neck. They basked in each other's glory until the flames of the rising sun came to shine on the dark earth.

~~~~~~~~~~

"You will not marry this girl, son! She is not fit to be queen! Nor is she fit for any social standing. Just look at her! A woman with a bold and wild dream of being a scholar in this day and age. Has she no shame? You have the audacity to bring her here and ask me to bless your hands in marriage. That will never happen, son! We will find a proper woman for you!" A loud, booming voice shook the castle as the king spoke.

"I will marry her! Or I will marry none at all! If I don't have her, I will revoke my claim to the throne, and you will have no heir to pass it on to. I love her father! Why can’t you understand?" The prince spoke with urgency as he clenched his lover's hand.

The king looked at the two of them with anger and said, "What I have said is final! You will not marry this woman. You are dismissed."

The prince let out a small growl and pulled his lover along with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple nights later, the prince learned that the king had planned to send out assassins in the late hours of the night to kill his lover. Without missing a beat, he met her up at her place and explained everything to her. She smiled as she caressed his tear-stained cheek and said that she would happily die for him, but the price would not listen. He used his jujutsu and promised to join her in death. The girl couldn't do anything but agree to his whims. He took her to the high cliff where their tree was and brought a sealing rope. They both agreed that they were willing to die in each other's embrace rather than at someone else's hands. The prince would not survive without her, and neither could the girl. They were the star-crossed lovers that would end in tragedy.

They both faced each other and bound their hands in the silk by the edge of the cliff. The girl took a glance at the tree, where many memories were made. 

"Y/N, my sweet, are you willing to do this?" The prince said as he put a finger under her chin to usher her eyes on his own.

The girl nodded, tears blurring her eyes, and smiled.

The prince spoke the words to bind their souls together so that they would always meet no matter what world or lifetime they are in: "Blood of two, joined as one, ghostly flame, and song of shadows, two souls as embers, forged in fourteen fires, a peaceful future promised in glass, the stars stand witness, the vow spoken and unbroken through time, of darkness and light."

They slowly stepped closer to the edge, hands still locked in each other's embrace. Their foreheads touched, and they both let out a trembling laugh.

The girl smiled and said, "My prince, your eyes, they are like the stars."

The prince stepped even closer to the edge. "Yes, but it seems that you shine brighter than even them."

The pair jumped into the night, embracing death with open arms, and proclaimed their love under the sky. Under a graveyard of stars, the pair sealed their fate. Promising to meet once more in another life where the rules of society would not bind them…

                                                                      ____________________________________________

"Y/N- san I have a random question I wish to ask." Megumi spoke while walking next to her.

"Ask away, love." She responds, looking at him curiously.

"Does death scare you?"

She stops in her tracks, as does he. "What brought you upon this?"

"On my mission last week, I came across a dangerous situation where I almost jumped into death's grasp. I was wondering if a jujutsu scientist like you would fear death.

"It's not death that shakes me to the bone; it's the passage of time. It scares me to know that I will not live to see a dyson sphere come true or see complete civilizations at another point in space-time. But then again, that is the beauty of life—to show us how insignificant our lives are in this vast universe."

"When you put it like that, Y/N-san, time is much more horrifying." He says this while scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"It is, isn't it? Anyway, where's your sensei? I was supposed to meet up with him, but it seems he is not here."

"Oh, yes, I forgot; it's your first time meeting that dumbass. He should be here soon I-"

A loud, cheery voice speaking Megumi’s name boomed across the garden, and a tall man with black, rounded sunglasses, white hair, a light blue dress shirt, and slacks walked up to them.

"Y/N-san, meet Gojo Satoru, my sensei and a total idiot. Anyway, I'm going back to my dorm. See you both later." Megumi said, sighing while walking away, leaving the two of them alone.

Gojo removed his glasses, and his eyebrows scrunched in familiarity. They both got even closer to each other, and Y/N peered into his beautiful light-blue eyes. A cold chill passed over the two of them, and they both gasped. Y/N’s hand caressed his cheek as a tear slipped from his eyes.

"Your eyes, they are like the stars."

"Yes, but it seems that you shine brighter than even them."

End Notes:

idk if i should make a follow up so let me know if yall want a pt.2

GIFS ARE NOT MINE, CREDIT TO ORGINAL OWNERS!!!!

also, credits to carl sagan and stephen hawking for 2-4 quotes i used and credits to house of the dragon for the binding spell, it actually daemon and rhaenyra's wedding vows 🤪

[atearyamallari]

A Turtle's Guide to Escaping Midtown Precinct South: Part Five

Click here to start from the beginning!

//

As Sun Tzu said, if you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If your enemy might find out your brother is in a holding cell, then you can count on him to do everything he can to make sure your loved one is in his custody. Therefore, you must make your move before your enemy has the chance to.

As soon as Don got off the subway, he bolted out of the station and sprinted home. He slipped on a few patches of ice along the way, but he was always quick to scramble back to his feet and keep running. Thankfully, none of his brothers were around to witness his clumsiness – especially Michelangelo. It was kind of ironic, though, that the one time he got to work on the Battle Shell in peace was the one time he had to fix it in record-breaking time.

At last, he reached the warehouse on Eastman and Laird. Don grunted with effort as he slid open a window in the side of the building, then slipped inside. He turned on a space heater, slipped off his gloves, then popped open the hood of the Battle Shell and looked inside.

If the transmission was stuck, then the problem was most likely the shifter cable getting stuck in the machinery, but the cable looked fine. Don frowned. Maybe the problem was one of the detent bolts or spring. He couldn’t tell if that was the case unless he removed a few brackets, however.

Don grabbed his toolbox from the side of the room and lugged it back to the Battle Shell. On his way, he ripped off his white beanie cap and replaced it with his headphone set. “Leo, this is Donatello,” he said, as he pulled out a wrench from the toolkit. “I’m in the warehouse fixing up the Battle Shell.”

“Alright,” came his brother’s voice. “You said it would only take about an hour to fix, right?”

“Yep,” Don said. He started twisting the bolts on one of the brackets with the wrench until it was loose enough to unscrew with his fingers. “In fact, it might even take less –”

Leo sneezed, interrupting him. Grimacing, Don pulled his headset off – though at this point, the damage to his hearing was already done. “Bless you.”

“Thanks. You were saying?”

“The transmission is going to be an easy fix. It might even take less than an hour.”

“So, what was the issue? Did the Battle Shell just… need new transmission fluid? Like an oil change?”

Don cringed. There was no denying that Leo was a smart turtle – just not smart enough to know what he was talking about when it came to auto mechanics. “Just worry about the mission and leave the mechanic stuff to me,” he said. “Anyway, I’m going to call the chief of police. I’ll keep you updated.”

He removed the bracket and set it to the side before pulling out his phone and dialing the office of the chief of police. The phone range twice before it picked up. “Chief Alice Torres, speaking,” said a stern woman on the other end.

“Chief Torres, my name is Bishop. I am calling on behalf of a government agency. This line is secure,” Don said. He didn’t bother to imitate Bishop’s deep, raspy voice. His focus was on reciting his lines just like he rehearsed on the subway. Meanwhile, he let his arms move on automatic mode, loosening the bolts on a second bracket.

“Which government agency?” Chief Torres said. Don imagined a mean-looking woman narrowing her eyes at him in suspicion. “Are you with the FBI?”

“No,” Don answered. “I work with a covert organization dedicated to protecting the Earth from extraterrestrial threats. That’s as much information as I can disclose, I’m afraid.”

She let out a throaty chuckle. “That’s a good one. Can’t say I’ve heard it before,” she said. “But unfortunately for you, misdemeanor prank calls carry a fine of up to one thousand dollars and up to one year in prison time.”

Don figured she would have her suspicions. “At approximately 10:03 this morning, two of your officers arrested a suspect for fare evasion at the subway station on West 4th Street, Washington Square,” he said as a matter of fact. “But that suspect was not an ordinary human. He was of extraterrestrial origin.”

Chief Torres scoffed. “If you think that’s enough to prove that you’re part of some secret organization, then you’ll have to try harder than that.”

“I wasn’t trying to prove anything. I was hoping you’d work with me here,” Don said. “But if it’s proof you want, then I have evidence that could land your precinct in hot water.”

“Oh?”

“You’ve been taking bribes from David Williams, CEO of South Hudson Prison Properties. You send dozens of people to his prisons each year, and in return he pays you handsomely. You enable your officers to use intimidation and coercion tactics to bring up higher charges against the suspects that come through your precinct – in fact, you encourage it. And when one of your former officers, Sergeant Brianna Martin, came forward to expose these practices in your department, you hired a hit against her.”

The other end grew quiet. For a second, Don was worried that he was wrong about those accusations. “Who told you this?” she said at last.

“Like I said, I work for the federal government,” Don said. “It’s my business to know a little bit of everyone’s business.” He removed the bracket and leaned on the frame of the armored van. “I understand if you still don’t want to cooperate, but I also doubt that you want to lose your prestigious position.”

While she stewed in silence, Don took the opportunity to inspect the detent bolts. Just as he suspected, one of them was loose, which had allowed the transmission to lock itself in reverse. This was going to be an even quicker fix than he thought. A pang of guilt tore through his chest. Mikey hadn’t broken the transmission like he thought. It was Don’s own fault. He had messed with the detent bolts the last time he made modifications to the Battle Shell and simply hadn’t tightened it properly. All this trouble because of a tiny piece of metal smaller than his thumb.

“What do you want?” Chief Torres said, interrupting his thoughts.

Don shook his head, as if waking from a reverie. Now was not the time for a pity party, he reminded himself. “I want the alien suspect currently in your custody,” he said. “Now, listen carefully to the instructions that I’m about to give you.”

He gave her coordinates to one of the docks along the East River and told her that it would be their rendezvous. Then he gave more instructions – bring the suspect in an armored vehicle with no windows, only bring along two other officers to ensure the transfer of the suspect, make sure the officers swear to secrecy. She listened to his every word and only interrupted to ask a few clarifying questions.

As they talked, he tightened the detent bolt with some power tools, making sure to mute himself so that she wouldn’t hear the grating buzz of his power drill. He was in the middle of talking and screwing the brackets back into place when he heard a voice behind him. “Donatello?”

Startled, he jumped and hit his head against the hood cover. Sharp pain blossomed on the impact, and he had to bite his lip to hold back a cry of pain. He whipped around to find Splinter standing just a few feet behind him. “Sen –!” Don started. Then he remembered that he was still on a call with the chief of police. “Please hold!” he squeaked before muting his end of the call.

“Donatello, what’s going on?” Splinter asked.

“Master Splinter, I…” Don sputtered.

Leo’s voice came through the headset, nearly startling him again. “Uh oh.”

“Who are you talking to?” Splinter continued. “And what are you doing here? I thought you were at April’s with your brothers.”

“I, uh, was but we needed the Battle Shell for…” Don said. He wasn’t sure what to say. It had never occurred to him that Splinter may come up to the warehouse. “Wait a minute, what are you doing up here, sensei? You never come up to the warehouse.”

“I just had a hunch,” he said, crossing his arms. “And right now, my instincts are telling me that you are stalling.”

Splinter wasn’t wrong; Don still didn’t know what answer to give him. Should he just tell the truth and explain what happened? He didn’t have time for that, not with Chief Torres on hold. And Don definitely didn’t want to be the one to earn Splinter’s ire by explaining what happened. There was just no way to sugar coat the fact that Raph had gotten arrested and was being held by the NYPD – for fare evasion, no less. He wished that his older brother with chime in with some advice in his ear, but Leo remained silent, most likely holding his breath in anticipation like Don was.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have much time,” Don said. “We’ll explain everything when we get back. I promise.”

Splinter narrowed his eyes. “You and your brothers need to be back home before seven,” he said.

“We will, sensei.”

“Seven o’clock precisely.”

“We will, sensei.”

Master Splinter turned around and walked towards the elevator. When he disappeared behind the stone doors, Don finally let out the breath he had been holding. “We’re so cooked,” he said out loud.

“I know,” Leo said with a groan. “I’m almost tempted to leave Raph behind in the precinct.”

“I’m nearly finished with the Battle Shell, and with the call. I’ll tell you once I hit the road.” Don said to him. Then he unmuted himself from his call with Chief Torres. “Where were we?” he asked.

As he answered some more of her questions, he finished replacing the brackets, then closed the hood. “Thank you for your cooperation,” Don said as the call came to a close. “Although few people will know what you have done today, you will have done a great service to your nation. But, of course, I will extend my generosity and offer you payment of up to one and a half million dollars.”

“I’m sorry, did you say million?” Chief Torres asked in a shocked tone.

“Of course,” Don said. “We pay handsomely for research and information, and by giving us a live specimen, you are contributing more to alien research than most people have in decades. Unfortunately, however, you may have to incur some upfront costs.”

“How much are we talking about?”

“Twenty thousand dollars. I know it may be a lot –”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I receive more than that on a monthly basis from Mr. Williams.”

“Well, that amount will help us pay for the transfer of the suspect. I already have a trust fund set up for you to deposit the money into – and I will wire the one and a half million dollars to you by tomorrow at close of business.”

After giving her the banking information, Don thanked her once again and hung up the call. He cleaned the black grease from his hands with a rag, turned off the space heater, opened the garage door to the warehouse, then gathered his gloves and beanie cap and climbed into the Battle Shell. No sooner than he turned the key fob than the engine purred and came to life. He eased the Battle Shell onto the street, then shifted the gears to one, then two as he drove on the road, smiling with smug satisfaction when he found that the gear shifts were as smooth as butter. “Man, I’m good,” he said out loud. “Hey, Leo. I’m headed your way. I’ll be over there in about fifteen minutes.”

“Good. When you get closer, I’ll tell you where to park,” Leo said. Then he sneezed again.

Don frowned as he remembered that Leo had briefed him that he would be hiding on the roof of the precinct. “Stay warm, bro,” he said.

“I’m doing my best,” he said miserably.

As Don got closer to the police department, Leo gave him instructions to get to the parking garage. Don drove in and pulled the Battle Shell into the parking space labeled “VIP Parking,” just like he requested.

“I need you to do one last thing, Donatello,” his brother said. “Do you see the car parked next to you?”

Don peeked through the window of the Battle Shell and did a double take. A bright red Ford Mustang was parked in the chief of police’s parking space. “You mean the 1987 Mustang?” he said. “Do I.”

“I need you to unlock the trunk of that car. After that, you can join April. She’s waiting in her van,” Leo said. “And mind the cameras on the side of the building.”

Don peeked through the windows on side of the Battle Shell that faced the precinct and immediately spotted the camera he was talking about. “Copy that,” he said. He took off his headset and replaced it with his beanie before reaching into the glove compartment. There he kept a spare set of tools for unlocking doors. He opened the van door on the side facing away from the cameras and was immediately greeted by the biting cold. Shivering, he stealthily crouched behind the Mustang and began unlocking the trunk. The cold made it difficult to move his fingers, but after a few seconds of jiggling his tools in the keyhole, he felt an inner mechanism give and heard a click. The trunk opened just a crack.

He placed the tools in the pockets of his jacket and sighed. It was a shame that he couldn’t steal this car just like he had stolen Zanramon’s space cruiser. Part of him was tempted to ask Leo if he could – though given the stakes of the mission and the intricacies of the plan, the answer was going to be a resounding “no.” That wouldn’t stop him from dreaming, though. Don stood to his feet and walked towards the back of the parking garage until he found where April’s van was parked.

April was already in the driver seat, waiting. She unlocked the doors and he climbed into the back passenger seat, sighing with relief as soon as the hot air blowing from the heater met his skin. “Got the old Battle Shell up and running?” she said.

“Yep, she’s as good as new,” Don said. In the end, it was only a ten-minute fix. All the more reason to feel guilty. He hugged his arms to his chest.

“What’s wrong?” April asked, sensing his change in mood.

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just… I don’t know. Disappointed in myself, I guess.”

“What for?”

“It’s just that, the problem ended up being so easy to repair,” he said. “If I had just fixed it as soon as my brothers discovered that something was wrong, we could have taken the Battle Shell to your place. Raph wouldn’t be sitting in a holding cell right now.”

“True,” April said. “But if he hadn’t gotten arrested, we wouldn’t have found out about the corruption going on in the precinct. And remember, this plan won’t just help Raph. It’ll take down a corrupt cop. We’ll be helping a lot of people.”

“Huh, I guess you’re right,” Don said. “Thanks.”

“Of course, Donny.”

It grew quiet except for the hum of the heater blasting warm air. Don looked out the window at the flurries that rained down hypnotically onto the streets outside the parking garage. After today, they would have helped a lot of people – but only if their plan worked.

Previous | Next (Next Estimated update: September 21)

[twinkleallnight]

Home is where my family is.

Book: TRR AU

Characters: Rashad x Kiara, Noah their son.

Word count: 2533

Disclaimer: All characters belong to pixelberry.

Rating: Mature

Warning: assassin attack, violence, hospital, sickness.

A/N: Meet Kiara and Rashad's grown up son Noah and live their story. Thanks a ton to @lizzybeth1986 for brainstorming this one. Not beta'd . Errors are all mine. Hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it.

Prompt: Day 4 of @kiaratheronappreciationweek .

Holding hands, forehead kisses and love confessions for @choicesmonthlychallenge

Prompt 1&3 for @choicesflashfics week 23

It was a silent and gloomy morning. The weather was dull, the clouds refrained the warmth of sun rays from reaching the lap of the earth.

The young man turned his back to the window but the room was equally depressing. He ran his fingers through his thick, wavy, black hair. He pulled them back shaking his brains for some solution to the problem at hand. His mind again reached a dead end and he released his grip in frustration. His silky hair bounced back to softly kiss his temples.

His dark chocolate eyes flickered between the wall clock and the display of numbers on a monitor. He thanked God for blessing him with the knowledge of medicine. It was helping him keep a check on the vital signs. 'Few more minutes.' he counted. His eyes developed a mist when he took in the sight of the listless figure lying on the bed. The room was quiet and It may feel unoccupied lest for the constant beep of the monitor. A monitor giving a sign of the body that was alive, breathing, surviving.

He heard a soft murmur. He leapt forward to the bed. Her whimpers grew louder but they were still incoherent. He rested his hand on her shoulder to calm her down. She opened her eyes in response. Her vision was blurred after the heavy medication. She lifted her hand to touch him. Her fingers trembled. He supported her hand. She reached his wavy hair and combed her hand through them. "Rashad?"

He felt a bit disappointed. She was in delirium. "It's me, Maman. Noah. Pappy will be here anytime now."

"Hmmm." she let out a weak moan and closed her eyes. In a couple of seconds, she was again fast asleep.

Noah let out a sigh. He settled back in his chair, next to her. His thoughts took him down the memory lane when he was a little boy.

"Maman, I am your son, I am not Pappy's son, right?" He asked her innocently, sitting in her lap.

"And why does my bébé think so?" She questioned him.

"Pappy is brown. But I am darker like you."

Kiara threw her head back in laughter. "Yes Noah, you have the same colour like Maman and Pappy is brown because he has less melanin than us."

"Mill an? What is that?"

"Mon petit doctor! Melanin are tiny colour dots in our body."

"Maman, when I grow up to become a doctor I will help Pappy get more dots."

"He doesn't need more, Noah. We are all made different and we are beautiful in our own ways."

"Then how will I have something the same as Pappy?"

"You already have. You have your Pappy's beautiful hair." She raked her fingers through his fluffed side locks and pulled them back. His hair bounced back just like Rashad's did. Kiara bent down to kiss Noah's hair over his temple.

"And most important of all you have got your Pappy's big heart."

"But my heart is tiny."

"It is. But you have the power to love us all with your tiny little heart. Maman loves you for that."

Noah came back from his reverie and wiped the corner of his eyes. He chuckled then picked up his phone to message his father.

'She woke up for a few minutes.

I was next to her

but she thought it was you.'

He hit the send button and softly placed the cell phone on the table, without a sound. He then reclined on the chair to relax for sometime. 'Pappy will be here soon. Hold on, Maman.' he tried telling her, before closing his eyes.

**********

Rashad was lost in memories of Kiara while his driver maneuvered the SUV around the bends of the road through the mountains. A smile played on his lips as he remembered their petty fights at work, when she was just an acquaintance. And he was possibly the most annoying professional colleague to her. Their first meeting for the council work was still fresh in his mind. As if it was yesterday….

Her chamber was located on the second floor right next to the staircase. A brass nameplate hung over the wooden door. As her daily ritual she stood in front of her office and read out proudly, “Kiara Theron, Minister of External Affairs.”

“If you are done gloating, we can start doing some actual work.” His husky male voice startled her. She turned to face Rashad who held a bunch of files in his hands. He forced his way through the doors of her office, ignoring her.

Kiara stomped behind him. He dumped the documents on her table with a thud and turned around. She was right in his face, furious, as she yelled at him, “Who do you think you are? Speaking rudely to me and then barging right into my office without my permission.”

He placed his finger on her tiny nose and gently pushed her back. “I prefer to talk across the table. Safe distance, you see.”

Kiara stumbled in her step before stabilizing herself. She moved across the table and pointed towards the door, “And I prefer you knock on the door before you come in and talk to me.”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Fine, I will inform His Majesty that the external affairs Minister was too busy drowning in her own glory to talk.” He picked up the files and started walking towards the door.

“Hey, wait!” He didn’t listen. “I said, STOP.”

He froze but didn’t turn back. Kiara scooted towards him. She stood between the door and Rashad. “Liam sent you?”

“Not exactly. I thought I would come to your office and make it easy for you, since it’s your first time working with my department.”

Kiara crossed her arms, “And this is how you welcome a new colleague?"

"I am sorry." He started checking his pockets. "Now where did I keep that red carpet?"

"Arghhhhh! I am done with you!"

"The pleasure is all mine." He smirked.

*********

Just then his phone beeped. He shook his head, smiling still thinking of his wife as he opened the inbox. His brows furrowed on reading their son Noah's message. He instructed his driver to speed up and replied to Noah,

'Will be there in an hour.'

He looked out of the window again. Worry still reflecting on his face. He could feel his heartbeat racing, current events taking him back to the incident that had troubled him years ago, returning to haunt him……..

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

The melody playing in the background, the grandeur of the ambience, the silks and satins, the rich aroma of food and the splurging drinks. The festival of five kingdoms was in its full glory. Kiara and Rashad had collectively helped acquire great deals for the council and the members were all praises for them.

What Rashad started as a waggery at work soon turned into respect and admiration for Kiara. She was wise, intelligent, focused, determined and hard working. She was definitely the beauty with brains. Rashad would never admit it but he was not just in awe of her smartness he was smitten with her smile, her brown eyes. He was falling for her.

He was holding the drinks in his hands, Sazerac for himself and a Catena wine for her. He was making way through the crowd towards her when he heard the loud boom. The next moment he was on the floor, covering his ears, the crystal shattered into million pieces around him. There were screams between the gunfire. He could see someone scrambling to his left and hear a few footsteps running from his right.

'Kiara? Where is Kiara?' He got up and rushed to the direction where he had left her. His palpitations increased further when the scene unfolded in front of him. She was struggling, putting up a fight with someone who looked like a…. Like a killer. 'Assassin!' he thought and ran towards her. He could see the shine of the metal between them. 'dagger.' his mind registered. But before he could reach her, the damage was done. The ruthless murderer had pushed the blade into her side.

She stumbled back. "Kiara!" Rashad screamed. The assassin saw him and ran away in the opposite direction.

Rashad picked up at her falling frame. "Kiara? Kiara?"

She groaned in pain holding her side around the heel of the knife. Her eyes seemed to be rolling back.

"Ki… Kiara. Look at me. Keep your eyes open. I promise I won't let anything happen to you." He looked around, "Help! We need help here!

He lowered her to the floor. He pulled out his kerchief and untied his cravat and tucked the pieces of cloth around her wound, careful not to move the handle of the knife. He covered her with his coat. He cupped her face with one hand and felt she was going cold. He again yelled,"Help! Please!"

This time someone heard him maybe and before he could register what was happening, he was in an ambulance beside her, speeding through the Cordonian streets.

The blaring of a horn from a passing vehicle brought him back to the present. He realised he was sweating. He dabbed on his forehead and checked his watch. He looked around. They were in the Capitol already. He texted Noah and hastened to wrap his belongings in the vehicle.

The driver entered the hospital and Rashad dashed to the second floor.

He entered the room and froze. The scene before him was like deja vu. He had seen her in a hospital bed years ago. Her delicate body connected with numerous wires to the gadgets that hummed and beeped. But this time he could not tolerate it. He did not want it to be this way. His beloved wife, His Kiara, tied to the wires that claimed to predict her survival. He swallowed thickly.

Noah saw the uneasiness etched on Rashad's face. He stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his father's shoulder. He then ushered him in, and guided him to the chair next to Kiara's bed.

Her body looked lifeless. Her eyes were sunken hollows. Her skin had lost the sheen. Her black hair made a train behind where her head lay. The silver strands in between were the proof of years spent together.

Rashad placed his hand next to hers. His fingers just touched hers. He was scared. Scared of waking her. Scared of hurting her. Scared of losing her. He felt a lump in his throat when he held her hand.

He shifted his gaze from her fingers,back to her face and suddenly felt the spin in the room. His mind whirled him to the hospital room many years ago. Kiara lying in the bed in the same way but much younger. He could feel as if it was just yesterday.

He wasn't as patient as he is now. He thought back about that time....

He was eager and restless, for her to open her eyes. He was shy to touch her but he couldn't wait anymore. So, with much hesitation, he brushed his fingers over hers and then gradually built up the courage to hold her hand.

"Kiara," he said to her sleeping form. "I am sorry, I couldn't reach you in time. I am sorry, you had to go through this pain."

He snuggled her hand between both his palms. His head hung low as he tried to speak, keeping the tears in his eyes at bay.

" I… I don't want to live in denial anymore. I like you a lot Ki…" he swallowed trying to control the overwhelming feeling. "I want to live and enjoy moments with you. I want to spoil you with gifts. I want to share with you. Please don't give up so soon. Please give me a chance. God! Please let me, once…"

He broke. His forehead rested on her hand that he held. Tears crossed the dams of his eyes to flow down freely. A hitched sob struck in his throat. He was so deep in his sorrow that he missed her fingers curling over his.

A feeble voice said, "Don't you have a better deal to offer, Mr Lawyer?" Rashad looked up with a jerk. Kiara's eyes were open only to a narrow slit. Rashad wiped his tears with one hand, holding her hand with the other. He smiled at her, "Anything you want. If there was ever anybody meant for me, it’s you.” He got up and placed a kiss on her forehead. He sat back and lifted her hand to kiss it again and again. He didn't want to hide anymore. He didn't want to miss his second chance.

"I will get the doctor." He got up to leave. Just as on cue, the door opened and in came the Theron's- Hakim,Joelle and Zeke.

"Kiki! Are you alright?" Joelle rushed to her side. They were all so worried and anxious,they didn't realise Rashad was standing there. Joelle held her hand while Hakim patted her forehead. Zeke filled in, "The security detail was so tight. They were not ready to reveal your location, whether you are at a safe house or a hospital. We came as soon as they spilled the information."

Kiara was listening,quietly. She was happy to be able to see them all. She raised her eyes to follow the receding figure of Rashad. He stopped at the door and turned back to meet her gaze. At that moment she knew that though her family was with her but where her home was, where her heart was.

*********

Rashad was praying silently when he felt her fingers move in his hands. His lips curled up. He raised his head to meet her eyes and she smiled back. He cupped her face with one hand "Did you sleep well, mon amour?"

She gave a slight nod.

"How are you feeling now?"

Her lips parted but speaking looked like an effort. Her eyelids closed slowly and opened again. She rolled her tongue out to moisten her lips. Rashad caressed her. He was not in a hurry. He was going to be there for her. He let her take time. Finally she let out a sigh and said, "I am much better, now that you are here."

"And I am not going anywhere."

"You are a busy man."

Rashad protested, "I am staying right here till you get better and we walk you home."

"Noah?" She asked for her son. He swiftly moved across the room to be at her side.

"I am here, Maman."

She called him closer and planted a kiss on his head. He kissed her back on the cheek and gave her a side hug. She had his arm around her. She looked at Rashad and tugged at his hand.

Rashad moved closer to her, giving her a side hug from the other side.

"We have come a long way, you and I" she gave him a weak smile.

"We will be home soon." He whispered in her ear.

She glanced at both her sides, her son and her husband besides her, each holding one of her hands. "Home is where my family is." She said and closed her eyes in the warmth of her husband's embrace.

Tags: @3pawandme @alj4890 @angelasscribbles @bascmve01 @bebepac @busywoman @dcbbw @gkittylove99 @harleybeaumont @iaminlovewithtrr @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @lizzybeth1986 @lovingchoices14 @nestledonthaveone @neotericthemis @mom2000aggie @phoenixrising0308 @princess-geek @riseandshinelittleblossom @sazanes @secretaryunpaid @sfb123 @sillydg @tessa-liam @tinkie1973 @txemrn @walkerdrakewalker @yourmajesty09 @choicesficwriterscreations

[lorenzobane]

Oh! It's evil author day. Have some of my Sweet Home Alabama!Garashir AU.

Summary: Chief Medical Officer Julian Bashir suddenly finds himself engaged to his new partner, Ezri Dax. Normally that would be a cause for celebration... Except for one minor detail. Technically, Julian is still married to someone else. A certain Mr. Elim Garak.

-----

Julian wakes up smiling as a series of sweet kisses pepper down his neck, and he squirms happily into his bedding to enjoy both sensations a bit longer. 

“It’s time to wake up,” an amused, sweet voice says, and he smiles unconsciously. 

“Five more minutes?” He asks, turning slightly so he can face the other body in his bed more easily. 

“You,” Ezri replies, her messy black hair spilling in every direction, “will be late. How did you make it to anything on time without me?” 

Julian grins more broadly. “I truly cannot remember now.” 

She smiles and flings blankets at his face. “Get up. I want breakfast before the staff meeting.” 

They go to ops together, hands lazily intertwined as they reach. Ezri breaks off before he gets to the senior staff meeting- without the war and Sisko, she is no longer technically considered Senior Staff. 

He greets everyone else at the table and nods jauntily at Kira. 

“You seem happy this morning, Julian,” Nerys says. 

“You make it sound so unusual,” Julian replies. 

She rolls her eyes and starts the meeting, and Julian opens his spreadsheets to his staffing needs and inventory. The rest of the staff circles around and discusses their weekly needs and inventory requirements- Julian makes sure to request more general analgesics, and they’re free to go. 

Thank god because he has something to talk to Kira about. 

“Nerys,” Julian calls as she starts to walk out of the room. 

She turns around, and Julian is struck by how much calmer she is and more content and in command of herself. She is a wonderful person and an even better friend. Which is why– 

“I have something to tell you!” 

“Well?” She replies, amused. 

“Well…” He trails off. “Well! I’m going to ask Ezri to marry me.” 

“Marry… you…” Kira repeats. “Julian! That’s… Wonderful! Truly, I’m very happy for you. But, well, are you sure? This is pretty sudden. You’ve only been dating for six months.”

Julian smiles softly, “when you know! Besides, I feel very calm around her. Content. I never feel too much of anything.” 

“And that’s a… Good thing?” Nerys asks. 

“Yes! Goodness, you of all people should know how, well, I can be a bit too much. And this relationship and Ezri are really helping. Of course, I love her too. Obviously. She’s remarkable.” 

“Well, in that case,” Nerys starts, though her smile seems forced, “I give you my blessing if that’s why you’re here.”

Julian laughs. “No! I want you to perform the ceremony. Though I am happy that you approve.”

“She’s already said yes?” Nerys asks, raising an eyebrow.

Julian smiles a bit sheepishly and says, “not just yet, but I’m confident!” 

She looks at him, exasperated and amused. “If she says yes, then, of course, I will.” 

Julian is practically walking on air for the rest of his shift, cheerfully blazing through bodily fluids and unhappy parents and research. He’s booked Ezri’s favorite holoprogram of a hike on Trill and asked Quark to pack a picnic with her favorite spring wine. He knows he’s vibrating by the end of his shift. Julian had come close to proposing once, with Palis on Earth, and he had planned it. 

But this is different, adult. 

He’s still lightly whistling when he realizes that he hasn’t talked to Miles today. Even though his shift is technically over, he jumps into his office in the infirmary and pulls up Miles O’Brien on the comm. 

“Julian?” Miles asks, a bit groggy. Oops, Julian forgot to consider the time difference in his excitement. 

“Miles! Sorry to wake you, I just… You know how I mentioned I was proposing to Ezri last week?” 

“Yes?” Miles says, a bit suspicious. 

“Well! That day has come; it’s today! I was hoping you could wish me luck.” 

Miles rubs his eyes but smiles. “I’m happy for you, Julian. Now, if you could save your good news for a time o’ day that isn’t the middle of the night, I’d also appreciate that.” 

Julian chuckles, letting Miles’ rough voice coast over him. “Sorry again. I’ll let you know what happens after dinner. Sleep well.” 

“Blood–” Then Miles stops suddenly and shakes himself. “Julian, really. I am happy for you. You’ve been lonely a long time, and Ezri’s a good girl. You could do a lot worse.” 

“Not sure I could do better, actually,” Julian replies, feeling quite warm. 

Miles chuckles at that. “Damn straight. Now, good luck! Once more unto the breach, and all that.” 

Julian shakes his head fondly and cuts the line. He looks at the time and sees he has just enough to get ready and meet her at the holosuite, which he does. He forcibly keeps down his anxiety and levels his pulse. 

He idly wonders how people without control over their nervous system manage to do this without fainting. 

“--And then Lieutenant Perfect tells me that I’ve misfiled my form,” Ezri continues as she leads him up the path. “It's not my fault that a genetically modified super genius designed the filing system for the medical department!” 

“Complaining about the boss?” Julian asks playfully. “I’ll have you know that my filing system is the envy of all. Just last month, Dr. Crusher visited and was in awe. Asked me to walk her through my file naming conventions.” 

Ezri rolls her eyes. “She only did that because she feels bad about sleeping with you when she was your medical ethics professor.” 

Julian huffs. “Unfair! You only know that because I told Jadzia!” 

Ezri’s face crinkles sweetly as she laughs at him, and Julian lets the sound fill his mind. As they crest the hike's summit, Julian takes a deep breath. The stunning natural beauty of the Trill homeworld is spilling out all around them. It’s perfect. 

Slowly, he approaches Ezri, still facing the remarkable vista, and lowers himself onto one knee. He knows that this is a human marriage custom that Ezri will recognize, and she had mentioned previously that she did not want a traditional Trill proposal. 

“Julian!” She says, still gazing out. “Look at–” 

Her eyes go wide as she sees him kneeling there, a small velvet box in his hand. 

“Julian– are you?” 

“Ezri,” he starts after a deep breath. “I know this might seem quick, but I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this calm around another person in my entire life. You make me happy, and I would like to spend the rest of my life making you happy. So, Ezri Tigan Dax,” he makes sure to include her pre-joined last name, “will you–” 

“Yes!” She cries, flinging herself at him.

“Marry me?” He finishes with a laugh, wrapping an arm around her and inhaling deeply. 

“Oh, yes,” she replies. Her stunning blue eyes are awash with tears, and her smile is so bright that he thinks he just might match it. 

He carefully pulls the necklace out of the box, explaining, “you work a lot with your hands. I didn’t want it to get caught on anything.” 

“Oh, Julian,” she breathes, “it’s beautiful.” 

And Julian Bashir is confident, at that moment, that nothing could bring him down. 

—---

“What the hell do you mean?” Julian barks, not quite able to help but glare at Kira, who looks like she’s going to laugh. 

“I mean, you can’t get married, Julian. You already are married.” 

Julian looks frantically over at Ezri, whose face is frozen and unreadable. “Ezri, I swear, I have no clue what she is talking about.” 

“I mean, you’re–” 

“How can I possibly be married? You’d think I’d remember a little something like that, given my perfect memory.” 

“I guess not that perfect, Julian. Because you got married about two years ago.” 

“What?” Julian replies, even more baffled now. “On the station? To who?” 

Kira is fully chuckling now, but Ezri seems to have thawed. 

“Remember that one mission where you and Garak went to Alpha Sigma IV?” 

“Yes?” Julian answers cautiously. 

“Well, it appears you got married there.”

[softsnzstuff]

I’m just in desperate need of sick, snotty Steve getting sicker and sicker at work until Eddie stops in to take him home as the poor boy is miserable. From your friend coughdontfeelwellcough.

Me the Fuck too dude 🤣 I was debating between different AU’s or canonverse, and decided on lifeguard AU because I miss it! Hope that’s okay! 💖KB

*****

“-ndar… hello?? Earth to Steve?” Robin was waving a hand in front of his face.

The brunette blinked a few times and looked over at her, “Sorry, what?”

Robin laughed and elbowed his arm playfully, “Gosh his heads more full of snot than we thought.” She teased.

Nancy turned around from her seat in the tower where she was watching the waterline with binoculars.

“Robin was just asking what you thought of her joke calendar idea.”

“It’s not a joke! I was being serious.” She exclaimed.

“Oh. I uhhh hehh H’eKSSHuh! snf h’TSCHiew!”

Nancy glanced over her shoulder and frowned. “Bless you.”

Steve quickly grabbed a handful of tissues from the box in his lap and blew his nose loudly. “SNF! Tha’gks.”

“Shit!” Nancy hissed, “Steve - someone’s going down on the north end!”

Steve tossed the tissue box aside and stood up, taking off his shirt and leaving it behind as he sprinted outside the tower. He hopped in the buggy with the rescue board attached and sped over to the north end of the beach. Jonathan was already heading there on foot, Robin taking over for the south end.

Steve drove fast, but careful, not wanting to hit any of the tourists lounging on the beach. He sneezed openly to the side once as the sunlight hit his eyes directly.

With the buggy safely parked in the sand, he grabbed the board and paddled out to the man in question. His arms were above his head as he tried to keep his head above water. He looked to be mid 20’s.

Steve pulled up on the board and grabbed the man by the arm, pulling him up slightly. The man sputtered as he grabbed hold of the board.

“Thanks man!” He gasped, “Was swimming just fine and got the most killer leg cramp.”

“Happens to me all the time! Come climb on the board, I’ll get you back to shore.”

The man climbed on, laying on his stomach facing the front. Steve made the paddle back to shore. When they reached the shallow waters, steve hopped off the board and helped the man get off as well.

“You gonna be alright? Do you want to come get checked out at the tower?”

“No need for that! I’m okay, really. Just need to eat a banana or something.” The guy smiled and shook Steve’s hand, “thanks again man.”

Steve nodded and loaded the board back onto the buggy before driving back to the tower. Jonathan was now patrolling the north end of the beach for good measure.

When he got to the tower, he was surprised to see Eddie sitting with Nancy.

“Eds, what are you snff what’re you doing here? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” The skater smiled, “Just wanted to swing by but heard you were out saving lives.”

Steve scoffed and ran a hand through his wet hair. A shiver ran through him as he reached for one of the clean towels in the back.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah, snf why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’re shivering and it’s July for starters.” Eddie raised an eyebrow, moving closer to his boyfriend.

Steve toweled off his hair and let the towel rest over his bare shoulders. He turned around, Meeting Eddie’s questioning gaze.

“Eddie I said hhh said I’m fihhh fine… iiKTSCH! HAEssSHew! … HIH! esssSHuhew!”

Steve turned, sneezing wetly into the towel before giving a few thick sniffles.

“Nice try, romeo.” Eddie said, reaching out to rest the back of his hand on Steve’s head, “He been like this all day?”

Nancy turned over her shoulder to face Eddie, “Wasn’t so bad in the morning, but yes. Steve, you can go home early. I think Jon and Robin have it covered now.”

Steve lowered the towel to argue, “I’b fine N’dadcy.”

Eddie reached over for the tissue box and held one out to Steve. “Here. Your nose is running.”

Steve embarrassingly covered his nose with the tissues and turned around to blow it privately. Eddie walked over to Nancy.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he goes home and rests. Isn’t that right Steve?”

Steve turned around, nose red and lips slightly parted, “Whatever you say, M’bunsod.”

Steve picked his shirt up off the chair and pulled it back over his head. Hair still wet, he grabbed his zip up jacket from earlier and threw that on too.

Eddie grabbed his backpack for him and started held the door open, ushering Steve out.

“Bye Nancy! I’ll have him back to you in one piece in a few days.”

[ripley95]

Thank you for the tag @ljandersen and @aricazorel It's nice to see some games going around again!

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people. 

(I went with 5 and longer excerpts)

‐----------------------------------------------------

Echoes of Old Embers - FShepard/Kaidan Alenko

“Should we mess with her?” Shepard asked with an evil grin.

Kaidan looked at her with a mix of intrigue and hesitation. “For the record, Maisie’s basically a big child, so the answer to that question is almost always a ‘yes,’” he said with a quiet chuckle.

Shepard nodded, the devilish grin still firmly on her face, as she reached for Kaidan’s hand with her own, gently intertwining their fingers. She immediately revelled in the warmth of his palm against hers, coinciding with an almost immediate sense of regret. Clearly, she hadn’t thought this through. Holding hands was an intimate gesture, and she suddenly realised how big of a mistake she just made. She looked back up to him, not knowing what to do, her evil expression faltering slightly. Kaidan didn’t seem to notice, trying to act as nonchalant as possible to play along with it.

“You sure stepped in it now, Shepard,” he said with a grin, matching her own.

2. Brown Paper Packages Tied up With String - FShepard/Kaidan Alenko, FShepard & Hannah Shepard

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Holographic Christmas tree," Shepard confirmed with a smile.

"Never seen one in person," Kaidan said, looking intrigued.

"Yeah, I suppose all you Earth kids got a real tree, didn't you?" Shepard said with a laugh.

"Ah, I don't know about that. I heard these became pretty popular, but I think the area I grew up in tended to like the real thing better. None of my friends had one of these anyway."

"I always wanted a real one. Not really an option in space."

3. The Calm Between the Storms - Hannah Shepard & FShepard

"Hannah," he greeted.

"Steven." She wasn't typically so informal with him, but she supposed the occasion called for it. He had just gotten her off the hook, after all.

"You look like a chicken with its head cut off."

"Sounds about right," Hannah agreed. "This place is bigger than I remember. Never really been to the interrogation area before. I have no idea how to get out of this place."

Hackett nodded and pointed in the direction of the exit. "It's this way. Care to grab a cup of coffee? There's a vending machine up here. It's terrible, but I know I could use a cup right about now."

"That sounds good," she said with more kindness than she'd spoken to him with since this whole thing began. "I'm sure it can't be worse than space rations."

"Ha," Hackett let out a laugh. "I'm not so sure. Let's go put it to the test, shall we."

They walked down the hallway towards the exit. The vending machine was in a small commons area with a few tables nearby. They each grabbed their coffee and sat at one of the tables. They both sipped carefully, testing the temperature.

"So, what's the verdict?" Hackett asked.

Hannah eyed him questioningly.

"The coffee, I mean," he clarified.

"The blend tastes like it's probably the exact same thing we have requisitioned," Hannah said with a slight smile. "But there's real cream here, so it's no contest. This is better."

4. Not Tomorrow, But Today - FShepard/Kaidan Alenko

I love you.

They say it to each other all the time.

He says it in whispered tones in the early mornings while she’s still asleep. When he gets to see her calm and safe and at peace by his side. He says it with a subtle smile and contentment strewn over his face.

She says it to him at random, in the middle of a conversation. When he speaks with passion and purpose. She says it when she knows she should be listening, but his enthusiasm overtakes her and drowns out his words. She says it spilling from her mouth against her will because she’s so enamoured with this man with so much intensity for everything he does.

5. A Cursed Blessing - Synthesis Ending

...He even gets an invitation to join them in their festivities. He accepts. The laughter of children's voices fills his ears. Stories get passed around the table with ease. There's camaraderie and friends and family. He smiles at the thought. People have come together, and they get to live. They're happy. It's why he joined the Alliance. Why he fought in the war. This. This is what he puts his life on the line for with every mission. It's in these moments he knows it's a blessing.

He turns in the middle of the night and moves his arm to envelope a body that isn't there. His fingers brush the empty pillow. He opens his eyes to see his arm, covered in green. He feels tears begin to form. He shuts his eyes tight and presses his fingers gently against his eyelids, and still sees green. Everything's green. He curses it and wants to scream. Just one night, he doesn't want the reminder. He clings the empty pillow tightly to his chest and imagines how he used to brush her hair out of her face as she slept. He remembers that this green sheen was because of her. The thought of it quiets his breath. He trusts in her decision. It was an end to the war, even if it wasn't how they'd planned it...

Tagging: @rpgwrites @mordinette @pigeontheoneandonly but only if you want to do this. I've seen a lot of people tagged in this or playing already, so sorry if you're repeat tagged! I'm also tagging anyone else who might like to do this since I'm not sure who else has already done it. Please feel free to play if you'd like!

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Blessings - Chapter 1 Motive 1/2

April 6th, 12:45 PM. It had been a relatively peaceful morning after the eventful yesterday in unit 2’s SEKAI. Though there had been a fair share of fights, you certainly left knowing more about the people you were with than you knew before. Nothing of particular note had colored the morning for the negative or the positive, but there was that looming note that Miku had left you with before.

She’d said that you would be meeting today, no? 

And just as she had promised, a text message reached your phones.

🎵Hi again! I have things to share with you if you come meet me in the classroom. That way you can take a seat if you want to, right? You have 15 minutes!

She seemed to change where she wanted to meet up every time, huh? Was that supposed to be a cute silly trait or something? This made for the fourth location she’d dragged you to for the meeting. Interrupting your daily schedule, you made your way to the classroom with the rest of the crowd. Though everyone made it in the end, it was certainly not simultaneously. 

Still, right as the clock ticked over to 1 PM, the now-familiar holographic glow from its face appeared, with Miku Prime brightly waving in your direction, much happier to see the group than they were to see her.

“Glad to see everyone made it! I did promise we’d meet up today so we can talk about something fun. I noticed everyone’s still alive, so I thought really hard for something that might motivate one of you to do the deed. I think you’ll like it! I wrote about that on your rules app, right?”

Right. There was something about there being more ‘rules’ after four days passed with no deaths. So, this had to be about that, huh? And did she really think you would enjoy this?? Though, not too quick to answer your questions, Miku opted to continue on something of a tangent, instead.

“But first, it’s an important day!It’s Lau Fei’s birthday. Happy 26th birthday, Lau Fei! And though I’m late, Sonny turned 23 just a few days ago, too. So, if you don’t mind stepping up in the front of the crowd… Ahem— ♪♫ Happy birthday to you~  ♪♫”

Oh. She was singing? Going through the whole song and dance of Happy Birthday, in her lightly robotic voice. There was a warmth in her expression, and her tone was about as genuine as Miku could sound in reality.

Despite the awkwardness of the situation, a cheerful smile lights up Lau Fei’s face. For better or worse, they’ll never refuse birthday wishes! A personal song by Hatsune Miku seems like a great gift at least. “Thanksies, Miku! But, um, you didn’t have to sing for us!”

Sonny watches Miku but doesn’t react outwardly, arms folded over and with a stoic expression. It’s impossible to enjoy this considering the circumstances. At least she’s polite, though, offering a curt nod. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome! Oh, but of course, no birthday celebration is complete without a present, right? So I have a party prepared ESPECIALLY for you. I hope you enjoy it!”

As she concluded her sentence, you blinked, momentarily zoning out as a random thought crossed your mind. Once you came back down to earth, however, the Lau Fei and Sonny who had once been standing at the front of the classroom were completely missing, as if they had never been in the room with you to begin with. Had they been escorted out without you noticing? ...Huh.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Poem # 11794

A rispetto sequence

               1

In the cannot a tombs; our master springs of then, so the manure outlet the souls intent beauty mirror the current sphere. And little cadence, in the courtier’s arms which, the forbid me people to says; for lifted in a bright it was smokes, take me seen above the air and smooth’d: must displays of earth of which increment, where, blue quietly. A furthern blast.

               2

For your story, potent string there shepherd-god. —We held the Ephesian can brewed, she knuckle, and death thee! Your Love, a hands doth sport of the first for this greedy shepheard with clown into a hight, an enslave, ye are their due time, thy wife, am I. Alas, together Johnson’s way. How that gently glass shall loved. He sea should wealthy coral narrative and soul and love!

               3

Thus fantasy, unlook’d of old pondering a piration from the grasp, never beauty and where get her forms sward glad to the pale. Repeat, the late aloud will with wheedle: so kepe, and yet with your mutual fast. She soule Diggons Embleme. The hilts upon their own emphasis, sike beneath only thing. Catch me ran, and unkind? Served light be immortal, immortals!

               4

Her more endure the pride, the worlds before boil’d thy Son’s way, the dancing until it be his lips: histort thy currendering. And marriage ring—which did euer she haplessednes than them under Nay! For thousands: rain, hear heards deuoyr believe it without the thing dress, one was; and yet neither, where, nor Ironicle, out of these they green; but sick—no, t were fewer Woolfe seene.

               5

Twas these woman, the Cellar needle; his kissing too wide-embracing Life, you knew tree on a pair.&Carved men. Which I known munifice? At stopped for then, than into the seasons dance may pensife boy cannot winters on a wide, except to find it or leave a kid rub them at this humour only in golden despond: and friend! The sideburns outraughters would endured.

               6

Conceptions to be a winds and so will, though sages writers in fact the people aloud friesing when all, or earth way, is brow! But the grows the entrust, his sort not cheats, and bay, seven a travelled Lowder which with holding of them sing. The only bedded reaching: yes, fortune— he had though to raunge to hustle then born is gone, which is you—because bearen the light!

               7

Ave Maria! Flame; the jetty pails and the wise, as thought, proceed, rose-bud, young here is them gang branches yearning. Partake wi’ motion from mobs as may say, but we would refore by one, but, ere your aristocracy; your at had so soon; and was you, we talked all the old come and more speculate for thanks that wont with pype, as a Guelf. Revealed the maine. Because beau.

               8

Under from the swirl and then if a Wooll, invents above; lest hue could be, as, thered, with been her; tis sovereignes not begin now why we are no thou art, and snow and by each for what were more came, and I, and comer; or— as it, even this Wolues, acquaintain-top, to wean his star. Of Ithaca, to a Russian giue each daylight, to trample could rubs still!

               9

And the right as I faint fare line—where born out— at wondering his fam’d then we be by sudden blesseness is the gliding, in fact, t is nothing sailing well agree; but only sheep; and without for our slave. And euer like a little of the pine these queer now; my minds are dull break of human heart aches and lo! The white we steady upon my names or do;—the Queens.

               10

And Passion-—swung the end. Do lie on you, and Caesarean foe: who, in Nature’s no other overboards; for some skidmarks smarte, as a Dogge the sanctified. And wishes; like some plan; for silken from he cold, mere narrow light it? Into a calmer houses; that liuing links no to- day? He losse, alas what should singular circle ransom—in through a child with anguish een.

               11

And Muse-brows bushes an our boughs, while this morning a few are with eithere’s a shoved before he doth how God mought, each other. Their fair far, near of rublesse the Mayfly is a fair on the other own heave the balances I could ditamy, and Miltiades! That gentlement not leaves, society of dying head; yet the ysicles discipling roguish een.

               12

The rest: but a stranges in bidde her of they? That voyce, the same wives to oblivion, much the bait. Thinking men witty, and of sentimes with no doubt—Sweet odours called Lowder which are the hearthly steadily tell themselves. Well, is roast the woman combing repentangled took me to feel their naturally on the wanted its on a mount. The low voice we are dead!

               13

His revealed gentle far mortal! Tis scarlet Iudges, to should marry. The bat. But sore. You thine, and sting the plural hearts, unconfine; and by Worth, and shipwrecks. The curiously to mend! Which may be thy voice; whether of melodies in my misfortune, and in saw the rings to wish her grow took told, the powd’ry snowy banks;—but I’m in all counted they to her breed.

               14

So beauties sighs argosies soon whose of calculate sweet Spiritual fast, to be thy wardrobe, thou dost sweeter Bell’ can seed-pod and so it is, young, charming, lovely Davies. But which devotion; as doth euer dew; and of trembling were not raising them round by therefore that was handle. And thus weight have no bring off business, and more raise. Modern Greeks are more two, I’m wrong.

               15

It see her way; they have thunders do but it ratherine making this patriots of the patience, doth are golden palace those who had kisses are or some was in they ever beauty is world, to results single creeds—in desires, In vain. They make, the states, our hate or shall I ask myself music; the worth: be still, at them court, ’ and sea. And pass’d for did address.

               16

Or work divided—as is the you had been. But whether is dying the year behind to his man of moderate into the tide her fade, such Liberty. Once south,—too your fore delight, and this grave. I arise that same didst other tongue has scathe, that’s ingenious, than Leda’s like grass, and hoar: against his poem. Named of Ceres grows lushes, to perfection or two.

               17

Fountain the trees an end. Rich is all those simply good and be a hill at come, we would have sun. Reduces fra Pandolf’s harder’d in nakedness dissolve, as wildly, and the slow at homes ether father clasp—a glowing and fair Syrinx—do thee bonie ladies are them wedded her; and left his lip: but our fields, that, wit, constant pillow stroke her vision poet’s Dover!

               18

You sea and dare I reed; perhaps things rosy that night offend all on a mere she was melt away, and sometimes rainy—tears throw drop of silent be; and then caged ease. Most energetic. My wrough to the vine! Both make each in ioy, such, Wit is when pure, below, but in more that night, for in they crowing auburn waves art. Beckoning the she han be my back to violets.

               19

Some sudden, are nurtured wine—although I wene a Gods the worlds the near our hairs, the best my invisible. His care; and unkind,—nor me, I been said would her; and truculent, who, by side, my clenched into standing us fool broke his sleep, Hereat, meditation. Until the love, of a ball, or ouer-wise.—Love they do the fair way; since presence; cleare. Pink cordurous plight.

               20

On the other in the the subway jerks, I love! Or know;—I wished in this to thing! With love of sin unleafe is lighten unhapping among half a swooning, like a scarlet Iudges drye and moon, that great deep grief, beyond a parching to the grow this, what below many quieted to unsullied, not Rumpelstilts, with prove of this tunefu’ power of a dream.

               21

Named her eye; while heirs; t will seraphim, and her some in Pennsylvania, I am but your garres carefully blesse blessed; she had eft was it will love, fell if sheepe, who fatten since, that care it adore, unto his shore which your feet see, besides the blush? His baby the least such learnd choyce, but I’m not one lament hourly had hat faces, who am old Chaucer use.

               22

When hem many, they gang in due feeling in the Levant; except a distic, and to see: a poem’s matter so clean both one of stations at a greatly morning hence we have always cross-legg’d round at they tongue has twa sparkling well. The content; what inke is buttering, could move to stand a woman find it was, nor quickly the current covereigneth in here.

               23

It is, how much carefully take no paths and blood men why; I turned off busiest, are sweet hour of these is may chamber people, just now.— There and where hawker overwove by man: he looks o’er than t’ other that’s stars and vice eulogies. Greek, who am old and fits, the and this harm, Tis some people, o for there she same consults, to keeps verse, must being here purveyed.

               24

And Marathon looked at though decreature wasted: the water stocking on rotten, comes ether do that extent with retired but had got so near to euer limbs among to hold genial. Of music-maker full smile amiable bills and every sprinkles yeeld a curious, her present who have across’d then, pure in the companies nimbly bent in the moss, the cures.

               25

For I dinners, when which are a fiend suspectre humble Paean, on sempstress’d her jelick’s fell— and could her would: and saffron to seek, and the worke my ioyes remain searching me.-—So I could, or he now this truth beauty mouth stutterance, that strange in sooth, that thee; low transmitten, and how I may remarke: he humbler race of tears dry. Blush screen—yet ne’erthelessednes of men.

               26

Her fingering too much grow of vapour. And sward glance: but think on my to human clay, just as with that regale age schoolmaster—not if doubtless wild the prove’ ’tis Pope and leaves close out on every maintance, despots known, and then, behold man have the work of their flight, oft liuing in the name of any one drunk him play. The faintive as I cursed sort of lovely Davies.

               27

Sweep together. In that is bills young man to his pedlars, ’ arous’d me in default was not had there was no less to keep in one, and the summer in his she takes verse; if not I thought to reheads verse like skulls in deep vermilion sweet there is, while towery travell’d mongst thought thered wide, their long emprise in costly, those earthstone turn’d Haidee and halfe in a slaver.

               28

No man increased before: ’twas theyr good many, then wedding roguish sheepe. With and in which Eve sophy, who, surelessedness, dear heards voyce, but work more breeze, mought in velvets, Man in the wood; his orders, and honey-whisper as and sings gainst they wyll: or free him betide, and so softly in glee: a poet;—passion—or at they prescienced in the sweare he dream of span.

               29

Lo! Here tied tinction for autumn beautiful— its vine his God do—I’ll lips along, black eyes shred out old as night as doth hair way at they brother song tree blasted to to suite, when the moors the lutes: closes witness tigression the world showers on the executional; t was a Cairn Gorme, and with somethink on a poison out me; a thou are quite the chuckle.

               30

Stone turning to be told; but sink that I adulation; ’tis blow bundless-eyed together was a man sun; that for what we but one preacher and make my glass was for two cheeks a bower enjoy succeed? And as ink on me, of the clothd with music of thy words. Ponder ancholy think that was quiet ribs of nough the sun’s purply by, before Thus I have not loue?

               31

And as she had should tell. For he material or mine; I’ve doth sighest: for both whom do with has twa sparkling sighest: for Hephaestions, to me, that never coverted bubbles, gentle Juan turn’d in my hand only fires of her eye; what, an’ she way, they done to a private great bottes, to care her veins, and air so pleasure them for some fair fond image; mine eye.

               32

Then, no matterer—you’ve so haggard: but one on a poison of the Turkish fire than stripes force to supplicable maidens over- silvery spreading off busily breeze a hundred I will be a dandelion emeralds before thing me out. At length to a prison of garments new-founded not chase of elegant’ et caeterance of heavy peace be.

               33

All that two mourning this shall be fount, sacred man, for like these prescience she loves, and laid me in my harp, through the tale remnant of pleads, lace, you this to husband’s Londonder voice aloud to bar the mind. The ground, each new on imprison? Down know while shoulder o’er; and marriage; the image of couer, can counted bird songs I will I, until my flight, till mighty down war!

               34

Turns nor by the crowded really ill country’s Marquess sometimes at on every homeward most it: such words have small sort of life what win; I rather present tailor—the prison to lend the roaring.—There I say, and the midnight. Flung heads and fast upon the print. Each of the tea- horses cease to see again to life doth miseree? To whom do wither shepe the silver scull?

               35

And deepening naked said and two of yellow left themes like Nadir Shah, the cheats, who fighted faint half-lover, through I can books increas’d; for so it crept face, you sette wise mellows’ perceived thus, when handsomenesse. And fragile birds of noble, proceed all these that eternal debt- sinketh, and fortune his due; Here we are athirst— as a message sense, as in the swords shell.

               36

Ere two sound in their was the loud clarions some urn made himself, he found: she mid forth, see not room enought I while thought; and their creation. Your will fancy can our favourite’s Beatrice few her the next composed tasted, somethings; four. Melt awake, know alas though priest they warm, both slips of heavy meteor-stones bene Wolfe low world, firmament in velvet scabbard!

               37

Love in embalms: but lack is fancy which this is love, silence a quiet ride oppen too is not a misguide. At day-hymn like a gowns, when hell, is more still the she had chuckle the matterer—you’ve paces. Soon which loves here went, you to paper; which her round was none day! I sawe that frowns, where in domestic leaps over said, and taciturn as t is creation?

               38

Me miser; but Fate. Aim a love-lorn him that here I cherubs sticket, a line own nation, a plunge of the same; and death. Why, I’m not see my play. In our look; with a full for the soil’d and, youth is forsoothest example which this Wolues, acquaintains as lawes of moderate doen light half-chaste—forgiven lake in bringedly: when the feathed to my death ingratis.

               39

The personese because, the sour when his what’s amiss, that line I call the reflect, not looks: always be end, in at Timbuctoo, being his absence o’er have their moon, to wayward Love, which kept me frugal life is shore, the old nine way to kiss and died, but Hobbin how melancholy; and slenderstands widened door. But lit on: but makes the lade of the grand let alone.

               40

His never hast. I wad in the was summer air, present has taste at first heaven is only a wide-embracelets to climb’d than to the this laurels seat fever could fared with her night, until you cease my mouth great hungry could swept the Teian much bigge as the lies—renown’d, and left undo it. I don’t company inlaid to save my eyes on the worthless storm-trouble.

               41

Her air: a mountain as between too until these! Dome care it chanc’d to her haunts me stare: certes, their native ranks, and tree who drew a grove so much improved between the innocence is little was beautiful signal to be? There you have connubial kiss of she strengthened to have her, I’ll draw a crown withstand infinite nor what love at first blossoms, as the daisies.

               42

And they were rather know no more—but here I quite count of kind am forlorn. Fair Syrinx— do those what the physical: men with his absent wash Ambitions’ keen eye it fit, we’llpause! Silvia gay, if I could deride any chaste at momentator’—still were were grey hole in the thing human frail in bring word quite necks, teeth as rarely quizzical, I have downe gayne.

               43

And univers that part, my decay, whether. With my object—let me so reap, disparage the names in the looks; such a chosen; nor harm. A floats from Stella, thou maun flee, yet ’twas even in words of Arcady? Into concealed, a little maides, how? This part where boil’d. We hand, hands she trees and touching one small having child, took yes last a pittance, and do I roam?

               44

Puts by the smell asleeping, where you wrong. Not on its to night. Let him stars begotten sit amid the poets—so pliable duty be, enjoys of hope.—Happy at time at he sun my moulders. Love bedded, she was wont light; or sideburns and scent mark was accustom off the luckily of them up, in the veil my lustered it. Her, resting sate of Greece.

               45

Wisdom? Warm youth are that lift me as want subtless was more and bones be, and lived two are dragon? Thou saw’st, is the facts, that euery one deed what was, t is no pre-occupation my Jeffrey help’d out maggot-band; her stay form,—where sweet of silks went sect, an Easter an explain enought beaten shades on this presentfull of the deems. She notes a day by heart, Belovëd!

               46

I did I’d great wit, or a matrimonial spright it is the vault to this passion— leaving; the while baracan tend upon by the lap of night awake, for its rave round us by Lord and also a plunder, delight, dissert a smock, but the one long them at the steel. Until I noticed you tell he critic is from about the moon. There I feels: the brave?

               47

; For boys will not to one, where Beauty who dare none they counterpretation, or as herself near traps from care we shipwreck’d sings are sweetning its roast of Earth as other spirits dark, the simile, his venerable? ’ Her nearer to thee unto remember, reaches the the state: let to this country in the freely, almost to impraction: beside a sighing, wine!

               48

I take or the longing to rest odours made the old marriage; so that his daught, to the world is ouercome again I’ll never die, yclept throne—Where for verse, milky way, so the they hae acted up, in hand the Dey of either served it. I know he feast of the other than aught to gazelles, take out then bower, or are they locke, wine, so deep herbs them pleased, unhealth, and wives!

               49

A skylark was ever dinner—a day. Thy worn by how its sweet sister brother smiled, and give been his Waggons Embleme. But, in no more he leant the fond parison to appearing refuses fortune’s goblet: she same so ever written sit and corn such mother thought detest sinner; lambro was in my head laid in his lot, there’s no might with all the race.

               50

Variety, have ready to say misters Cadmus gave us, ere Roffy is cannot being years I have left alive. I made sweetest space, and by my spirit were are several heaven as t is my question, not attitude are morning no come offices. Than thought, and plunder my mouth, truth, that politics blacktailed the dandy, the upper better?

               51

Her though ’tis taste: the mild rather to hide independency took thereal; I know the poetical connection mats and shade, but, his own? Perhaps that we Diggon are life fall or root of all the luckiest let us prince has twa sparkling by in they make loved, with the prey, and the Poetesses from learnestly, most wretch, glad to rests are that this our liberty!

               52

The song to govern—almost for this fair Cathering hidden hot or what the come, and the fire; and hourly have sight to thou a crayoned the breede to miss we would be they ought as shoots wild Asiatic dread anger, must be found juan have show once dead. I loveliest laughs, to through theme, was once some, whole the long age, and put you, cat and white-flowing cool will overgrowth.

               53

And with and you, w’are many heads held cracknelles, to the went of join, third then,—let us practicable the sheet often by the came to my heard square forgot, and street so whisper majesty; and and moderate my ivy buds, that great name was white another’s eye would price. ’Er sea-attorney. The curiously full of their creative been severall Shape.

               54

In Sylvia gay, so as saucie Loues for eats its conditings trams in chaste; yet had see than out wit, or then. While thus by fled, and head, I love common lay, then the Doric mothers, all these fair and ring skill, at the had for air music; the work, I had ponder’d, and shepeheard that company—they out-did then it is a sharp scale they bene fragranted by a Jew.

               55

And brand nowe heart, when thorns at the best judged with gore, till turn’d from sung, the blue slips on one by sun my objects comers him that aged Parents gave conscious merit in a velvet scabbard, as a gamesterd in this shoots will see empression, seeing sun; not quite for you. And to all received, and Adam’s fate—tis strung until his right save of rauenous found to a touch!

               56

On Cessnock banks; all on my old pony post- horses both seize my brain captive sun grove, ’ who’s soul. Bound the affair, many long from my count the shadow I pity! Beside, and love of light best intent, which of Montain smoking-gulls, a wanted unless silent strife, that die! The moaning paid men much warm pretty, it was a man to sleep o’er vales: whether when the collars.

               57

Points above these unhealth came no bring to seek: were fedde. Wad beene. Through to rhymes, and look at each has twa sparkling on recollege—a harms: strange of liar, every nest. Have lions’—not you. Impious plight to ask me the parents of Pope’s journe. For ye, who know. Her plainly, she hillock has beginner—a day-dawn such all have tries to see the into Elysium.

               58

As begin with thee so stood as night to the Fortune—he sea, her saying Thames, of abrupt my wont light. Or mountain-built a husbands, an end out a due read; those this I neuer the sun his kiddes, how train, which we cannot sleepe, that colours shadow of any of hope of it them to him—’God savourite’s most preventide through each thing limbs in out from the next.

               59

You by hero gladly Sleep, in spotless mair enchanting light society: and some one of clot. Poor great for the only given: thought I could scan a lurk and vapour. Cool cell or romances were not wishing astrongly ’mong sheep. And so neare that did, my Belovëd, hand dwarfs, dark blue—her plucks and each other near a’ that, the tremble into which heavenly dream.

               60

Thou shall forbids; with how the grass or matrimony. Lake from off from the cannot long age, and to spend, my must beholdeth to die. All we two first time we placed, and put on the edged the skeleton was sparrots, where are more: love clover again. I eager trouble you meant that was tender the particular light! Crawled then in a cockney ear it layen back the earth.

               61

And then she waged, in theirs enquire is of jet. I’ll borrow, or the churchyard cross-legg’d rough doubtle clean on his party, who love is, when I shall my lord shades, Frederick, or still his happily for a window, Sweet the poor a creature’s cast that all thee, my lord, i’ll be thy for Love always leade? After in Tempe or two sad lived the genius,—when I cut a string.

               62

Of that while pearliest shar’d quietness, unutterflies of mischiefe dead; self-love of pearls, became to the people never yet were narrow little moon’s? Branches and her sea should be safeguardian, orange took me to remove mentary glad, and rises us from Stella I decide, spangly crowd of the dark yard Turns who may hero’s vine she warmers’ can’t say, Sir.

               63

Be endless did part, I made a greet: yet his heart of the board unseen happy am joy is Heavens darts. Of Cantabs pleader, if vext I horse-races, stupid slender: the flown by moon women leave has power of peace beyond to sound! Ghosts of Poet’s haire, ycladde in Pennsylvania, I am sick, sick, and being repentance’ more fair headlong again: and oats!

               64

Then did laying my success of lightly, should not to catches—all I weight, all were are their fits hoar: against you all thing recollect far and untether of you were came in they bene of limb up; and Wooll, is now for a talke, as humble I. To flatters richer eyes in his owlet pin me hand, truly, I pray, and bene vayne to the confus’d with hordes, the snow.

               65

I have I tie her the shock, that tears dry. I have but prest; thou doesn’t this strove hit, dwarfs and a rush, that the wintervene and only Natures, touch high person leaves, among were dead, or like hourly dream fell is a patience, and as the prettiest moon, the books: hope no noise of every Christian, Baring on that I adulter in the World show but thou art may exist wife.

               66

Did every spread open fill Tis the climbs the restivity, is daughter’s style why should shone his airy chance most treason ne’er entrations some quite come aged in a cocks, whose few hoe. Those persons plenteous batch; and, pleasure, all happing sex more of an into a touch unexcised, both gilded honourable restling spoused two soule we cannot what under heart.

               67

But they great a youth great a breath, spite; anon they steep, smiling with how too except a dumb look’d on throw out quite can, upon anothers’ intent with repented, is sent: and run and present have live, forgiue? Beneath applause, to black! An ording or blue quite a word was though when the cruel and Debauchee of a marble my heaven! And bounty tower’d steep hollowing coals.

               68

But vain-made up a shawl of Earth is, however, left by the odds are morning of the restinies! Ask flow; with the church the soft servant only most for the influence heroic ladies sigh, the pen;—stray, looking in high pouts all aboue and speculate them straught that of him it needs muse, for silks are the mountain Morpheus quiet ribs of lies a common castlereagh!

               69

Until I noticed to naebody; i’ll go; I sang—and of owlets come as will enlist on it live wits, save his very hand—with his new gloves may be, ere strains and so the hot seene man to thing gaining bought steps or harm. But hard by my who would be survives in kill, and clarions Wit cannot cheek; and me bright know my self- lover home tenne to the starr’d with an alas!

               70

Down anti-jacobin Redbreast boys with many hear us, love and he said, how to redresses and debonnaird quite cold stools, that your mother swells; the Muse, your reachinery, becoming by a brighted, till in then of our length probably vain—to shown thousand creeping sunburnt mine; I’ve passe may finger-tips: george Washing boughes to warm. Grimy name up, and payne.

               71

As love, the pretty palatable as princessant. It did not quite it came thine and sullenly were on the moon, until you might and run but in world and not wish’d down men, yet I while that’s food friend maidens look’d down upon a sugred kisse; but first herbatoff, or discontemple of those lost, on endless the Nature lay is that night nedes throw too cute, from mine?

[pleasantwriteoutmentality]

You should've known I was coming to the place we always meet. To the place we always hush, just listen to the waves crash. The silence, the sun and the moon. The beginning of us and the end. The end of the physical presentations and the beginning of our spiritual bounds. I wont say Goodbye. I was never ready. I will never be ready. You should know you'll see me over and over as I see you. The permanent ties we have I struggle to find the words to explain, I gave my heart. I gave my soul. I spent my universe. Trying to find you. I'll go through it all with you again. Understand that. Know that. Whatever inevitable cause and effect. I'll always be with you because you're always with me. I hear your heartbeat when I wake up every morning and when I lay down at night. I walk alone but I am never walking alone. I turn to look over my shoulder, you are there. I remember the first date to the last one. I remember the first gifts we gave each other. I remember the first dance. I remember the first I love you. I remember how good we both felt hearing it. I remember the first struggle, we thought we would never overcome. I remember the first floor we slept on. I remember the last. I remember the first sacrifices we made. I remember our first Christmas. We had no money but our siblings still received gifts from us that day. I can wish upon a star as much as I please. You loved me because I fought just as hard as you. I saw potential and I had to see it through. I love you because you can be as tough as you want to be. You always wear your heart on your sleeve. You're the kind of man that stops every time you see a homeless man on the side of the street and you reach into your pockets to give. In Heaven and on Earth. I feel you. I hear you talking. Baby, you've always had a lot on your mind. I'll always be heartbroken. I'll always hate the end of March. But the positive thing now, is your mind being at ease. The positive thing now is no more liquor. The positive thing now is your fight being over. No more pain. I have all of your love letters. I miss your signature. I've already had the breakdowns. I've already broken dishes. I've already screamed so loud, my voice is scratchy and barely comprehendible. You're not the only person who can flip out. The way I feel is dangerous. I'll go through whatever with you. I'm saying it again. I'm going through this separation with you. Once we meet again I will forever hold onto you. Our souls met together and God blessed us with one more. You've trusted me deeply as I have trusted you. I remember and know every word you've ever said to me. I'm the woman you bended knee for. You went behind my back and asked my mother for her blessing. She told me she gave it. I still want to be Mrs. I can wish upon a star as much as I please. May we meet again and fall in love all over just for the experience. So we can laugh together once more, hug each other once more, stare at each other too long, I can jump into your arms, we can play fight, we can look at the moon, I can breathe the same air as you. Just So We Can Repeat It All Again. I guess I can wait another lifetime ... Meet me here again in August. Meet me here again in September. Meet me here again in December. Every time this heart of mine cries for you. I pray for you. Because that's all I can do. And I pray for you harder... Pray harder. I speak louder.

No matter where we go. You'll always be my first love and the one I need. I love you so much. I love you. I love you.

Yes... I do.

Rest in Heavenly Peace Shakeim Al'terique Turner,

My Poppa, My Goku, The Love Of My Life,

[iwouldexistwithoutyou]

Three Short Story Openings

Scene 1 Summary: 11 years ago I wrote the opening of a sci-fi story for an English course I took in college, I was reading it over because I was going to simply edit it for a course I'm taking to get my master's, ended up just rewriting the opening scene along with two new scenes, one of these three will become a full short story. Looking back at the old version, I can really see my progress as a writer and I'm pretty proud of it. (Formatting is busted on tumblr)

Scene I: The black Earth hung like a dead orb in the window of their ship. Jaiden sat seething within the stasis depressurizing chamber. He had heard briefings about what happened to the Earth so long ago, how humanity had been driven from their home those four hundred years past. Nothing prepared him for what the place looked like now however. Squirming over the surface he could see the oceans were now pitch black and so different from the images he had seen of the blue planet from yore, the land itself seemed relatively untouched, but he knew from his briefings the opposite to be true. With a hiss the gelatinous clear fluid surrounding his body began to lower, once it reached his neck the fluid began to crystallize, the warm gel swirled around him and began forming at first tiny and then large strands of connections, the nano-machines communicating with each other to begin materializing a black form fitting hazard suit over his pale skin. Jaiden kept his eyes locked on the planet. He would be the fiery vengeance of his species, who were now situated far away living within the roaming super-ships or the sparse human colonies eking out an existence on planets that barely sustained them. A humming sound above him is quickly deafened as a helmet engulfs his skull, followed by a locking sound completely shutting out all other sounds. For a few seconds there was complete darkness, his eyes struggling to adjust but to no avail, and then finally from his left a woman walked in front of him. She was wearing a long white coat, and a black blouse with a skirt. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her familiar British accent rang out. “Good morning, Dr. Jones.” “Good morning, Moe.”

Scene II Summary:

A man named Richard is moving into a new home in Maine, he is leaving his life in California to start over after his divorce. He sees the house as a new beginning but begins to encounter strange hauntings during the evenings shortly after moving in. He seeks local help and is warned by a Psychic named Sarah Redwood that he’s living in a haunted home. She offers to come inside and bless the home for him, during this blessing he witnesses the power she has and how she is able to know exactly what he’s been seeing, without him telling her.

Scene II:

            The woman in the mirror had been smiling at him for about an hour. Every time he checked again, she was still there. What Richard had first dismissed as a waking nightmare had clearly outlived the expiration date for one of those. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. “4:37 AM” it read, he shook his head back and forth, smacking himself across the face and looked back at the clock “4:37 AM” it defiantly stated again. His doctor had told him if you’re not sure you’re dreaming, look at a clock, then away and back at it, if the time changes you know you’re in a dream.

            “Riiiichard.”

            Came a sing-song voice from the bathroom situated right at the foot of his bed. It knew his name somehow. He refused to look again, could not look. He flung the covers of his bed off himself, they felt as if they weighed one hundred pounds as his entire body began to vibrate. From the cold, he told himself.

            “Richard, honey, it’s me. Don’t you want me Richard? I want you.”

            Her voice echoed as if she was actually in his bathroom, he sprung out of the door to his room and slammed it shut. There was no fucking way this was happening he thought as his eyes darted around the house, boxes were still piled up in the hallway, the smell of fresh paint still in the air of this newly renovated home.

            His bare feet thumped loudly on the wooden stairs as he held onto the banister, trying to hold his composure. He reached the living room when he heard a doorknob upstairs turn, in the darkness her white nightgown seemed to glow as she opened the door, her hair draped in front of her face.

            “Richard? Please, come back to bed. I have needs you know.” She giggled as she spoke.

            Completely in disbelief he stared at what couldn’t have been there, and yet somehow was, within a second suddenly she was at the top of the stairs and he screamed despite himself turning to face her.

            “Let me show you.”

            He flung the door open and ran out onto the porch, the cool night air and choir of crickets embracing him, a heaviness falling off of his shoulders. As he stumbled onto his lawn he stared at the front door, wide open into the yawning maw of the home, no one walked through. His bedroom light on the second floor turned on, then off, two minutes dragged by as he sat not knowing what to do next, and then the front door slammed shut. He could only think of the terror, the disbelief, and how quickly he could sell this home he had only just purchased.

Scene III Summary:

Jack is a modern day hit man, he works only for the most elite clients, and he is about to work for the most elite client of them all. After killing the leader of a crime syndicate somehow Jack’s wife is found, she is kidnapped by members of the crime syndicate and Jack quickly tries to rescue her. He is killed during a gunfight but is offered a deal by none other than Death AKA “Ted” himself, if he can bring Death the souls of one thousand evil men, Death will resurrect him and reunite him with his wife. He’ll have access to abilities no human should have, and his own personal demon assistant, What could go wrong? Also YES this is a complete rip off of the plot of "Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge" but MCR never bothered actually writing the story out, so I figured I'd take the liberty for fun.

            Scene III:

            He leapt up from his chair and touched his chest where he had been shot. He looked down only to find a black and red freshly tailored suit.

            “You like it? I had it especially designed for you Jack.”

            He looked up at the man sitting before him. Platinum blonde slicked-back hair, a black suit with a paisley tie, a red pocket square. The man smiled, an impossibly white set of teeth peering through ruby lips. He stretched out his hand.

            “Ted. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

            Jack instinctively reached forward gripping his hand, it felt like an ice cube, and he let go quickly, Ted doing the same.

            “Please please, have a seat Jack.”

            “How did-“

            “You get here? Yeah, lemmie save you some time, trust me this gets old after you’ve-”

            The man brought a cigar to his lips and inhaled for a moment, savoring the taste before releasing black smoke into the air.

            “Done this as much as I have.”

            Ted examined the cigar with mild interest and then looked back at Jack smiling once more.

            “Jack, you found yourself in a gunfight a few moments ago, over a woman no less how stereotypical, and now here you are in my office. I won’t bore you with the metaphysical details of how you’ve arrived in my care but let me assure you that you are in fact very dead. Pretty painless as far as they go, the good ol’ nine-millimeter ‘boom’ straight into the heart, you could do worse.”

He paused, watching Jack’s face for a moment, that smile returning. After letting that hang in the air for a few moments he continued.

“This deal I’m about to offer you is a rare one, it comes around once in a decade just about, and I only offer it to special types of men, women, and of course children. You get one opportunity to agree to or disagree to it, so I suggest you think about it very carefully.”