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11/20/2020 09:04 PM 

Not without Me

Aurora sat in the rocking chair next to Nadia’s crib. She was singing her a soft lullaby as the little girl babbled softly until finally, she fell asleep. The demon princess stood up over the crib she leaned down and kissed her daughter's forehead. “Good night my sweet angel.”  She left the room leaving her door open just a crack. She made her way down the hallway to the stairs. When she heard the doorbell ring. Her eyes went to her wrist looking at her watch. It was late, she wondered who would be ringing the doorbell this late.  As she made her way down the stairs, she could hear the male’s thoughts. It was Sam. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be out on a hunt with Dean. A hunt Aurora had begged Dean not to go on because she had a bad feeling, but her husband had just laughed it off and went anyway. But what worried her more was that her father was there in the doorway with him too.  She took a deep breath, and she opened the door. The look on Sam’s face filled her heart with Dread. “Sam... what...” She couldn't even get the question out because she didn’t want to hear the answer to it, but Sam told her anyway. Her heart was pounding in her chest, so loud she could barely hear his words. Her husband, her soulmate was gone.   She felt like she was going to faint, and she must have swayed because she felt both sets of hands grab either of her arms and lead her to the couch.   They sat her down.  Both were worried about her and were trying to talk to her get her to answer them about how she was, but Aurora couldn’t speak, she was broken, her heart had died out there on the hunt with her husband.     Aurora didn’t know how long she had been sitting there, but when she finally was able to move, she had noticed no one was in the Livingroom anymore. Sam must have left, and she could hear her father with Nadia in her room. She slowly got up from the couch and wandered upstairs to the bedroom she had shared with Dean. She undressed and walked to their bathroom she turned on the faucet filling the tub.  Being part shifter, silver was the only thing that could hurt her. She took the sharpened silver blade that was under the sink and sat down in the tub.  She held up her left hand and turned it over, so her wrist was exposed. Silver knife in right hand she took it and sliced hard into the muscle. She bit her lip at the pain so as to not alert her father. The blood starting to pour from the wound she quickly switched hands before she lost consciousness and sliced deeply lengthwise against her wrist again.   Letting the blade drop to the floor Aurora sat back in the tub closing her eyes. Memories of her life flashing through her mind, of when she met dean, the first time they made love, the birth of their daughter, and their wedding day.  The last thing she saw was her husband's face as she faded away for if they couldn’t be together in life anymore, they could be together in death.  


11/20/2020 08:22 PM 

Test Environment

 The car’s hum was drowned out by blasting music as the stone grey Range Rover stood at a glaring red light. As they waited for its change, they sang along to one of their favorite songs, much like they found themselves doing whenever it came on. “Remember the day, I set you free. I told you, you could always count on me darling!”, Tomas sang dramatically as he looked over at the love of his life. Her eyes smiling back at him as her mouth let slight laughter escape it before joining in herself. “From that day on, I made a vow. I’ll be there when you want me! Some way, some how!”, her smooth rich voice outdid his but he loved that very fact. They would lie in bed and he would ask her to sing to him, anything and everything just to take in that voice of hers. Likely their neighbors weren’t as welcoming of an audience, especially during those early morning live sessions. “'Cause baby there ain’t no mountain high enough! Ain’t no valley….”, their voices now melting together as her hands carressed circles on her protruding belly that was currently draped in a long floral sundress. It was one of her favorites but Tomas loved to comment on how it reminded him of one of his mother’s old couches. Though he was only teasing. He loved it on her and the couch, it was one of his favorites growing up. If their kid didn’t know the words to multiple songs straight out the womb, he’d be surprised. They did, after all, sing more to it than actually speak. She said that music evoked emotion unlike anything else could. A song could express exactly how she was feeling better than she could herself. Red was replaced by green and his foot pushed on the gas pedal, sending them into the intersection and headed in the direction of their home. White light flooded the car and blinded them. His head turned to the passenger side, where the light pierced in. In a slight moment, he watched her lift her arms up to block from the glare. His hands remained glued to the steering wheel and gripped it diligently, afraid to lose control.  The voice he had just been savoring, frightened him as she let out a deafening scream. Before getting a chance to react, the car ravaged her side and changed their trajectory. Tomas’ head hit his window and then flew forward onto the steering wheel, leaving him unconscious. The horn flatlined and now drowned out the words to their favorite song, “If you ever need a helping hand. I’ll be there on the double, just as fast as I can….”.“He’s regaining consciousness”, a paramedic called out to the driver as they sped to the hospital. An identical rig led the way to UCLA Medical Center, the hospital Tomas worked at. “Sir, can you hear me?”. His vision was semi-blurry, the lights and colors blending together. He had difficulty focusing on the words, the question being asked. Fingers filled his palm, “Sir, squeeze my hand if you can understand what I am saying”. His own hand gripped as hard as he could onto the fingers. “My wife…baby ok?”, pushed out a bit groggily. “Your wife is in the ambulance in front of us. We’re on our way to UCLA Med. We are nearly there”. With his neck in a collar, he was forced to stare at the ceiling as his heart raced thinking of his wife and their baby. The ambo came to a halt and the doors flew open, doctors there ready to get them into the hospital. “What do we got?!”, called out a familiar voice. “Male. Late 20s. Vehicle collision. Drunk driver t-boned them in an intersection. Patient has a hematoma to the back of the head and a facial laceration above the left eyebrow. Exhibiting signs of concussion and placed on a c-collar but doesn’t seem to have any spinal injuries upon further examination. Also, his arm seems like it has a possible break. We think that…”. “Tomas? This is one of ours!”. The doctor cut off the paramedic once she got a look at the patient’s face. “His wife is in the other rig”. Concern seeped in and was visible in the doctor’s expression but she quickly pushed it away. There was no time for that. “I’m fine. Help my wife. Make sure the baby is okay!”. His nerves were getting the best of him as the lack of control was overwhelming. He chest felt as if something was laying on top of it. The pressure was becoming too much. “Please, just help her…take care of her!”, he yelled out as they carted through the front doors of the ED. The charge nurse recognized his voice as it filled an unusually quiet department. “Dr. Carrion?”, she called out as she walked over. “Put him in bay 2!”, she ordered. Before they could whisk him away, his fingers found the end of her scrubs and clung onto them desperately. They needed to listen, to actually hear him. “My wife and the baby. Focus on them. Please…”, his tone pleaded and his eyes followed suit. They were begging her and she felt it. “Dr. Isaacs you’re in Bay 3 with Mrs. Carrion. She’s 8 months pregnant. Let’s get a read on the baby immediately!”, she looked back at Tomas who had not let go of her. “We’ve got her. I promise. Now let them look at you. I’ll give you news once I know”, her hand covered his before his grip loosened and he was taken off into a separate room to be looked at. As they began examining him, a symphony of machines began going off next door. Though still dizzy, Tomas used whatever strength he had to steady himself up and rush towards the door of his own room. “We’ve got to perform an emergency c-section. There is too much stress on the baby and we need to get her out of there asap or we lose them both! Page the obstetrician that we are on our way up now”. He tried to fight against the doctor and nurse who were tasked with his care but they held him back as the bed with his wife on it rushed by them. As they held onto him he called out in her direction, pleading with them to save her. To save them both. His words were filled with anguish. He had never felt so powerless. He’d work in these situations and very rarely lost control of his emotions. This was different. This was his world and it was the closest he had come to losing it. The thought of having to choose between his wife and the life they had created together entered his head. It hurt that it was even a thought he had to grapple with. His vision became blurry again, this time filling with tears as his legs gave out and he collapsed on the cold sterile floor. The doctor caught him but yelled out for assistance from another, “We need a hand in here!”. When Tomas came to, a consistent ringing had now taken residency in his ear. Releasing a groan, he attempted to reposition himself when a sharp pain shot through his arm earning an additional grunt. As he looked down, he was fitted with a sling. Based on the level of pain and only being in a common sling, he self diagnosed that it was just a fracture. Looking directly ahead, he could see his reflection right back at him, fresh stitches above his eyebrow. Before he could speak, a nurse walked into the room. He read her face, she looked caught off guard. Not expecting to have to confront a conscious Tomas. When he went to speak, she stopped him. “I’ll be right back with your doctor”, the last part of the sentence coming out when she was already out of the room. Truth be told, she knew what he was going to ask and she wouldn’t be the one forced to share the news. In her place now stood a familiar face. A familiar, yet somber face. “How are you feeling? Are you in pain? We can give you something for it….”. “Where’s my wife? And…and the baby? How are they?”. His throat started to constrict. It was as if he wanted to know yet his body was trying to protect him from asking the question. “The baby was delivered successfully through a c-section. Slightly early but looking healthy. I can take you up to visit in a bit”. He let out a breathe of relief and quietly thanked god for his child’s safe keeping. “Tomas…she fought to keep the baby going through emergency c-section but once the delivery happened, she crashed. We couldn’t bring her back after she coded. She’s gone. I am so sorry…”. The sense of relief he had felt was fleeting and the room around him felt like it was spinning. “What? No, that can’t…no that didn’t happen…”. He had given this news to families before. That their loved one didn’t make it. It was one of the hardest parts of the job. The part that almost made you not want to be a doctor because telling someone that their loved one was gone almost felt like an admission of failure. Failure to do the absolute best at keeping them alive. This thought matured as he did, but it never got easy to share. “No no no. Please god no!”, he yelled followed by a whispered, “no….”. His body began to convulse viciously as he let out tortured sobs. He cried not only for her but for their child who would have to grown up without knowing their mother. Cried for a life that would now experience that void of the beautiful person, beautiful voice, he fell in love with. 

DA Nate

11/20/2020 07:20 PM 

Been spending most my life living in Jessica's Paradise
Current mood:  adventurous

Now it was finally out all those rumours had been true. And Nate did in fact have a vagina. He finally knew the true house he belonged in. The one were vaginas got treated the best. And there was never any of that confusing who was who or what was what. The stories may still have tragic endings. But at least here they always had honest beginnings. And Vagina's together as one. Is truly a wonderful place to be.Why so many felt the need to hide behind lies in this day and age. Truly made no sense. Since Nate had more than one bloodline of Indigenous people within him. He often always felt his Gender was the one below. A modern English term that an Indigenous person might identify as that comes from the traditional knowledge of Indigenous peoples in Canada/Turtle Island/North America. It can mean a person who walks between genders; one who carries the gifts of both males and females, or one who is gender unique (not specific to any gender) and/or as a way to identify as 2STLGBQ+. When Europeans arrived in North America, they introduced homophobia and transphobia to many Indigenous nations and dishonoured the idea of what it means to be Two-Spirit. Today, many Indigenous Peoples are reclaiming the ancient understanding that there are more than two genders.That was how Nate felt he was at least when it came to being online. Though he had not had a penis in over twelve years. He still dresses as cisc white male would have. And he was sure for him. He would never truly be able to enjoy all sensations he could. If he had been born with it. But he will never forget how good it felt that first night he reached down and rubbed his slit. Feeling his micro penis and balls no longer being there. He had truly felt like he had become who he was meant to be. And for the first time knew even though he did not turn out a top. Like all the damn twinks on this site want so badly.  He could still always load up a strap on if need be. He still not had sex with a man or woman since his change. Who whoever decided to out him. As if they assumed it would cause him some type of shame. Cleary had no idea he really never cared. Who knew he just did not like the fact one based love off what was between one's legs. For that lust that decides that not Love.The fact was he typically fallen in love more Lesibens at this point than even he could count. He did wish though him Jess, Court, Heidi and Tabitha could all five-way talk on the phone sometime. Since Jess sounded just like Heidi and Tabby sounded just like Court. It had always fascinated him when he first heard them one night when they called him after catching him being DA Felix. He thought maybe that had been what drawn him to DA Coop so much, to begin with. Thank the Gods for those damn blacklist the charmed verse use to post. Otherwise, he may have never meet any of the DA's or TOBA's. He just wishes Ros was still around. Though he had missed Drunkie. He clearly has completely lost at this point. But he stills sees all her Chirs and Tonkin accounts out there. Hopes she knows he still loves her. And just thinks maybe what happened to his formal friend is now happening to him. He just is able to handle crazy better. Or maybe Demons and Angels are real. At this point, he just thinks it's all in his head. And he just needs redemption so he can stop hitting the bottle. Using the fact he can not complete his twelve steps cause Tina and Kim refuse to allow him too. But what can Two-Spirit do but just keep on bouncing around acting like a clown until one those damn girls finally give in and say something to him. Which it maybe he truly does not know. Maybe whoever outed him was on to something. And Beth can deal with the fact he's master with dildos and Slit kisses. And for once realize having a c*ck and balls. Is not really what love is all about. Though he thought maybe when his story came to an end. It might be with Mel or Rosa. Or ever the f*** that girl was that gave him that quick hit and quit it. It Jack's old friend Shannon had one thing right about Nate. He loves rejection more than acceptance. Cause he likes that challenge in fighting for a girl. Though in his hearts of hearts. He really just hopes he can find Shirley again. She can just admit to him who she is. So they can finally play their own version of Ares and QP. Nate never held grudges. But he was just loyal. Perhaps to level that it became a default. The truth was in his mind. He always Seen Ares as Ares QP as Xena and himself as Gabreille. With out all the subtext but just simple sisterhood. Just like he missed all his other chick flicks that were in the friendzone he had missed her friendship too. But just felt Ares would just never understand it. And perhaps see it as a betrayal. Even though its been six years since the last time Ares and Nate spoke. His loyalty never waivers. But when it came to Tabby cat. He sure did not mind that dream she might finally not hang up when he called her. Now he's here and was eager and ready to get into some Hogwarts Hufflepuff again. and just finally forget about all the crap that made him go insane in the first place. But can't promise Sainty will happen overnight. But at least here I am able to take baby steps lovers of mine. Am truly not a manwhore causes it not about smut. But I love a lot you ungrateful twats out there. That is all I am saying. 


11/20/2020 07:31 PM 

Bi-Weekly Task ( November 15th - November 21st)

  December 20, 2019   "Human beings aren't meant to be alone on the holidays. Please, just come and spend the holidays with me.” Glancing down at her phone, Tatiana read the text from her sister over and over again. It would be her first Christmas back in New York in over 10 years and she really wasn’t sure about spending it alone, but she was also in her third trimester and the thought of driving for 26 hours from New York to Texas really wasn’t that appealing. She’d been nesting, getting ready for the baby, but with Christmas just around the corner, she was missing her mother now more than ever. Biting down on the inside of her mouth, she placed her hand on her bump, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Okay. You win. I’ll come and spend the holidays with you, but only if the flights aren’t all booked.” There was no way she could comfortably drive that far, not in her condition and not on her.  Reaching over, the brunette grabbed her laptop from the table in front of the sofa, pulling it onto her lap and raising the lid. After going to various websites, she finally managed to book herself a flight to Texas for the following morning. Grabbing her phone, she quickly sent her sister another text. “K. Flight booked from JFK to Dallas. Non Stop and arrives at about 4 pm. Can you pick me up?” Once the text had been sent, she placed her phone down and slowly got up, heading into her bedroom to pack a bag. She had no idea what to pack or how long she’d be gone for. Sure she’d told Journey that she’d join her for the holidays, but there was a part of her that didn’t want to come back home to New York. So many of the bad memories that she had were from her life in New York; Texas would be a fresh start and she’d have her sister around her to help raise her daughter.    December 21, 2019   “Tati!” The blonde rushed towards Tatiana as she rounded the corner following the four and a half hour flight from New York. “I’ve missed you, sis.” Tatiana smiled, wrapping her arms around her sister when Journey reached her. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d come.” A laugh left her lips when she heard the blonde’s words. If truth be told, she really didn’t think she would go either. She loved her sister and she really wanted to be around family for the holidays, but there was a part of her that would have been quite happy to wallow in self-pity at home in front of the tv, eat junk, and watch Love Actually for the umpteenth time. “Honestly, sames,” she smiled, pulling back from the blonde. “Help me with my bags?” Journey nodded and laughed quietly as both girls grabbed the several bags that Tatiana had packed, having to pay extra because she’d decided to pack for every possible occasion and weather. “Thanks, J. You were right. I’d have hated spending the holidays alone.”  

POD Melanie Turner

11/20/2020 06:08 PM 

Oh brother none misunderstand me more than you
Current mood:  triumphant

Just like you, I refuse to be the one to make the first move. And its simply because now I have no idea what you will think. And I rather not have to explain it. Perhaps now I am at the place now. You had been then right from the start. But its not just about you forgiving me. But facing those you created after me. I know as I was made from this place. That I am to blame for the scars that made you. Cause at the time you felt as though. Love was wielded as a weapon to simply manipulate you. I know that was what forever changed you. Thinking it had all just been some game to rid myself of one. That I just simply seen in the way in a global domination game. Ask yourself, Brother, if things had not between us as they were and had not ever occurred. Where would we both be now? Perhaps Desur's more than this. But it would at least still be all of us together as we once were. Just under new names and houses. I could never admit openly that it was never just more than a one sided feeling. Due to I do not want you to confuse her actions with my own. And I still think you had been married all along.But I know if you can think back. You will truly know when it was her and when it was me. The simple place to look is the place you were before this quake came to claim and shaken all you knew. Back to a time remembering Sunday played on your page. And your father reminded you what it felt like to be young of an age. Seek out what that world would be like today. To find the prince you were once. Before this became a game of what you will and will not take from me. It's so simple Brother if you would simply just allow yourself to once again see. You have the power to make it be. As though we never crossed those blurry lines and it was like it was before we had. And neither of us would still be lost in this sad tug of war. You have nothing to lose and much to gain. That is all I can say due to that is all that is left to be said.       


11/20/2020 05:36 PM 

I know you care.

serpent juliet Sometimes I feel like I'm nobody at all But you make me feel like I'm someone, you do 'Cause I know I'm someone to you Make me feel like I matter, you do message comment albums stream bulletins blog I know you care She was clearly still visibly shaken, tears staining her cheeks and her usually pristine ponytail forsaken as blonde curls fell loosely and wildly around her face. Her body responded to a wide range of emotions, shock setting in as anger bubbled to the surface, but Betty was scared most of all. It had been one thing when she'd written an article in The Blue & Gold defending FP Jones, resulting in an anonymous perpetrator defacing her locker with pig's blood and accompanying voodoo doll. However, now with the Black Hood threat still at large, everyone was a target, and Betty felt as if a bulls-eye had been turned directly on her.Pulling tighter on the over-sized zip-up she wore, it had been the first thing she could grab after coming across the message. It made the long-ago message of 'Serpent Slut' seem like child's play, and Betty had barely managed to capture the nearest pair of sweatpants and jacket before escaping room entirely, immediately Jughead's number not knowing what else to do. Betty burrowed against his chest, willing his tight hold to erase the horrid details still flashing behind her eyelids every time she closed her eyes. "How did he find me? How did he even know I was here alone?" There was no real evidence it had really been the Black Hood except for the vulnerable sensation of her privacy being completely violated. "Why is this happening to me?"The messy state of her hair was easily and quickly forgotten as soon as she'd smoothed it over several times, tucking strands behind one ear. As the rest of her wavy locks fell in a half-partition to cover her face as she stared down at the pages Jughead had recovered from out from under her. Betty's eyes scanned over the familiar print on the title page, mulling over thoughts in her head as he reached up to press the button and bring the computer to life. She listened, stealing a glance at the stiffness in his tone but remained receptive and silent as he spoke and continued to give her feedback on her paper. Even as he scrolled through in search of somewhere to start helping her fix it and put together something better, something much more her. Betty took a deep breath, more for calming herself and her already frazzled nerves more than for his benefit as she watched him tape the pages on his knee. She finally gave him a firm nod, giving herself a pep talk that if he believed she could do this, then she should too.

Insane Devil Dru

11/20/2020 04:57 PM 

Stars sing me once more.
Current mood:  enlightened

She dances around eager like a fox in a henhouse. About to catch its first Rooster. So it does not wake the rest of the nest. Watching them fight back and forth. So lost and worried with things they can not control. Hoping there are some spoken secrets. That even within themselves. They had not been one to know. She giggles and spins and dances a about. Waiting for that King of Vampires who made her this way. To finally rise and take his rightful place. Before it was just left with to much disgrace. To ever truly be replaced. Rata tac Rata Tac Rata Tac All their eyes see. Like owls on a limb waiting for the moonlight. To show them the mouse. Oh, now they are all watching. Yet think the ones that amuse them most. Will come to thembut they never will. Since they ran from this place in such fear. But the time is nearRata Tac Rata Tac Rata Tac I see them and their smiles thinking all this some silly game. When it's just about that beast wanting to tame his heart. Since he always keeps it in parts. Mummy, why don't you come? Daddy you use to enjoy this fun?She giggles and dances about wanting now to find a mortal to feed upon. Let her teeth sink in its neck and enjoy that warm gooey goodness. As she then keeps singing what the stars say with her bloodstained breathe. Wishing now they all would finally rise from their deaths.  

The Stars are Singing to me Again.

🔮𝓗ᴇʀᴀ 𝓢ᴄᴀᴍᴀɴᴅᴇʀ🔮

11/20/2020 02:37 PM 

Facts About Hera

* Hera is the only daughter to Mrs Scamander and a unknown dad. * She has two older brothers, Newt Scamander and Theseus Scamander.* It is unclear if she is a pure-blood or a half-blood.* She was born with a rare and special gift known as being a seer.* Hera has a love for dragons, but many animals and creatures are always welcome by her, just dragons are her all time favourite. * She works and studies on dragons in the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary.* Hera has a passion for art and painting. * Growing up she was very close to her mother and brothers, but as she got older and left Hogwarts she isn't as a close anymore due to her busy lifestyle. * At the moment Hera is in hiding because Gellert Grindelwald wants her to join him, of course she won't her heart is filled with to much kindness. It is because she is a seer and so is Gellert, he thinks they are alike for some reason. But any good witch or wizard can become bad, but not Hera she is to kind and very terrified of Gellert anyway. Also Gellert just wants power and he knows that Hera has the power to see into the future but also can control the four elements. * After witnessing the death of her best friend as she watched her be mauled by a werewolf when she attendedHogwarts, she can see Thestrals ever since and owns one called Elder but he stays in the forbidden forest with his family at Hogwarts, sometimes Hera will go and visit him when she visits Dumbledore but not that often. Hera has lost a part of her soul since the death of her best friend, she believed she killed her friend that night and that it was her fault and because her belief was so strong it came true and she lost a bit of her soul but not enough to become bad. * She appears like the shy type but is very sociable, she just tends to be more of a loner than to hang in big crowds. * She owns a pet cat called Iago, he is pure white with blue eyes and alerts her of any kind of danger.* During her travels she tends to help many muggles and help ease their suffering, spreading love, kindness and empathy to other's in need. It doesn't matter if they are muggles, witches or wizards, she will help anyone but bad people. * Hera knows that her brothers have families and doesn't want to impose on them, she sort of stays out of their way. I guess as you get older, we tend to focus more on our own lives. It isn't that she doesn't care or doesn't love them, more of doesn't want to be a burden and make them have to worry about taking care of her. She knows wives and children must always come first, that is just how it goes and dragons and art comes first to Hera. * Hera is in hiding and is blending in as a muggle to hide from Gellert, she also has been travelling a lot and is camping in unknown places and forests, she is very good with survival skills and knows hiding is her best tactic. She hasn't told anyone as she doesn't want to worry anybody. * The night that Hera was badly attacked and harmed by a werewolf, she has never told anyone of that horrible night. She holds the burden of letting her friend get killed when in reality Hera was badly harmed to be able to help her friend, but she blames herself and never told anyone not even Dumbledore. She has never told her brothers either, on the night of the attack Hera was only 13 years old and was in her second year at Hogwarts. 


11/20/2020 03:57 PM 

Current mood:  melancholy

Thranduil ran long fingers over the delicate branch, a gentle rain fell over the green forest. The musical spatter and rhythmic drops along with the soft rustle of leaves was a beautiful song, but did little to calm the aching mind of the once joyful king. The lilting tone of his subject’s musical voice failed to lift his dour spirits. This time of year was always the worst. The memories always clearer and more painful, harder to deal with. The echoed words of long-ago comfort circled through his mind as his hands trailed the branch. He recalled someone, he remembered not who, had told him it would get easier. It had been a lie.The loss of Ellerian pained him now every bit as it had when she had died in his arms centuries before. The fiend who had taken her from him, and maimed him, was long dead but that was small consolation for the hole he felt in the fibre of his being. She had loved the autumn, how the colours had spread through the leaves, turning them to fire. Weaving the fallen leaves, golden, brown and red, into festival circlets for their people had been a favourite pastime of hers. She’d sat for hours in the window, the cool breeze touching her auburn hair, working those leaves together. Sometimes she’d add berries, especially if they had been for young ones. She had made the one set about his brow, many centuries before and he had sworn to always wear it in autumn. She had smiled at that. He’d do anything to see that smile again, to have her here with him again.He smiled, aware that there was only melancholy in the gesture. That could not be. She had been stolen, taken away on the wind of death, leaving him with an emptiness that could never be filled. Not completely. He had Legolas of course. The dear child had done much in the first years to pull his focus away from the all consumptive loneliness. He had loved him and taught him as best as he could, though he had fallen short. There were times that he could have been more tender, less reserved in his affections towards his son. Ellerian had said that to him while she had lived. She hadn’t been one for grand displays, but love and affection came easily to her. Those she loved knew they were loved, Thranduil was quite different. All he had managed was a gentle touch of a shoulder, or what he had hoped was a kindly smile. He could have done so much more. A kiss while he slept hadn’t been enough, had it?The leaflet still brought a smile to his face, a true smile, one that reached his star-blue. As awkward and strained as their relationship had become, Legolas was still a shining beacon of hope. His steadfastness to his duty and their people were a true credit and although Thranduil never said anything, he was fiercely proud of his son. He defended the borders as passionately as any of the scouts, though his interest in Tauriel might prove to be a cause for concern. He would spare his son the pain such love could cause if it was in his power to do so. No one should experience this if it could be helped. His hand let go of the branch he was holding and he turned back towards his chambers; perhaps some time sitting in the window watching the autumn leaves will offer some of the solace that he was forever seeking. 

solo, sad, practice,

Head Prat

11/20/2020 03:19 PM 

I'd prefer you go [starfire]

1 August, 1997 The tip of the quill scratched over the parchment, a calming noise to a frazzled mind, unease pitted deep in Percy’s stomach. In silent precision, he copied the document word for word. His last meeting with Remus warped his mind, pulled and tugged guilt and shame into place, worked him into a frenzy to what he was doing. His love for the Ministry felt tainted, the dutiful respect turned admiration for their Minister tarnished by his many levels of treachery. Again, he felt like a pawn in everyone else's game, emotions twisted until Percy felt nothing. He wanted to help the order, protect his family, but it was a deep betrayal to Scrim, who entrusted Percy enough to keep him on. With a flourish of his quill, Percy signed off the document before he ran one last check for dark magic and rose to his feet, the weight of his own letter of resignation heavy on his chest. He was tired of the lies and games everyone used him for. Life was passing him by, a life he could have if he left everything behind. The Ministry was destroying him, a haunted mind with a body that showed it. His own family wanted nothing to do with him, no care or concern that he too was in danger. He could leave it all behind, England and all. Go to a place where no one knew his name, where he wasn’t viewed as a traitor and despised by everyone who came into contact with him. A new beginning to a life that felt as if it were coming to its end. Felix had given him a way out, a chance to escape and live. Percy’s gaze hovered just over the rims of his glasses to the office directly across from his, the door still wide open but the room was vacant. Scrim had been out the majority of the day, fire messages popping up every so often on Percy’s desk with minor and tedious jobs to handle while he dealt with other things. His own suspicion malted into a fear that he had been found out and that Scrim was just collecting enough evidence to what Percy had been doing to throw him in Azkaban. With a heavy sigh, Percy’s muscles tensed as he stood from the chair he had been confined to for most of the morning. With Scrim gone, he set to his next set of business, the thing that hurt worse than walking away from the place he loved. In minutes he was on the third level, papers tucked neatly under his arm. The halls were packed, a loud chatter set against the migraine that was pulsing through his skull, everyone’s words blended together into one massive static noise. It wasn’t normally this busy in the early afternoon, even when lunch came he rarely experienced the rush he was fighting his way through. Messy red hair poked out from behind one of the cubical’s, Zoshia’s face beaming as she spotted him. Nothing needed to be said, the chipped blue mug offered out to him once he was close.  “Thanks?” Percy muttered, his nose wrinkled slightly at the light brown liquid but it was still coffee in some form. He choked it back, face pulled in a tight grimace as he fought the shudder.  “It’s that kind of day, is it?” Zoshia asked with a slight snicker. He didn’t return her smile. A sudden swell of distress in his chest caught Percy off guard, a squeeze over his heart as he looked down at her. Everything fell into place as she stared up at him, Percy suddenly aware that the things he thought he wanted were pointless without her there alongside him. “I umh . . . what are you doing for lunch, I need to speak with you about something.” “I’m free now.” Percy stammered over his words, face flushed to the pressure he was now under. It was supposed to be easy, a quick goodbye to who he considered to be a close friend, a best friend. It hurt when he arrived to work, knowing it had to be done, but now it was devastating. He couldn’t imagine not seeing Zoshia every day, didn’t want to. Zoshia didn’t look up from her papers, but she sat idle for a moment before speaking. “You’re leaving with Felix,” she stated knowingly, the smile on her face wavering slightly. Blotchy red patches covered his complexion, and quickly he looked away. “I know it’s cowardly and pathetic.” His voice was low. Every cruel name his family had given him over the years resurfaced as Percy found some truth behind them.  “It’s neither of those. You don’t want to be tortured, and honestly, who could blame you?” Zoshia sighed as Percy grimaced, his head tilting from side to side as he collected a list of those who would do more than just blame him. “Look, you’re not a martyr. Any sane person in your shoes would be weighing their options. Think of all the information you hold, all the destruction they would do if they pulled it from you? You’d be stupid to stay.” The words, while they made sense, did little to ease the tides of shame and guilt that were lapping through his mind. He was running away, abandoning everything and everyone he loved just so he could live. A selfish, cowardly prat. Those would be the exact words his siblings would use for him, and Percy couldn’t blame them. They were all fighting in their own ways, taking a stand against the rise of evil. But they all had support, a network of people around them that would help them, even protect them if they needed it. Percy had nothing. He was on his own, backed into a corner, and facing was imminent death; nothing quick or simple of that he was certain. They had no concept of the danger he was in. Every bit of information he held from his time as Junior Assistant, and that was just scratching the surface. He gathered his own information, key things to give to Lupin, every last shred of information that would be the undoing of the Order once they knew how to lure Lupin out by using Percy as bait. Zoshia seemed to sense his inner turmoil and paused in her packing. “If it’s any consolation, I’d prefer you to go. Mainly to keep Felix in check, but you’ve rather grown on me and I’d much prefer you stay alive.” A different heat spread over his chest and up his neck, a small grin curving against his will as his heart spiraled. “You’ve got a soft spot for me?” It was meant as a tease, a joke to stop the stupid feeling he couldn’t place because he knew her words meant nothing more than not wanting to face another death. But he wanted it to be true, wanted to know that at least one person would miss him. “Shut up.” The response was instant, a large cheeky smile plastered over her face. Nerves fluttered in his stomach, a quickening beat of his heart that was in sync with the tip of the shoe he tapped against the floor. He couldn’t stabilize his thoughts, was unable to form sentences, and verbalize anything coherent as he turned the cup in his hands. Three quickdraws of air, Percy forced his mind to slow before he tried to speak again. “You - would you like to come with me?”  He didn’t understand the flurry of nerves, the off hitches in his voice as he asked a basic question that had no hidden meaning. It was just as dangerous for her to stay as it was for him. It wasn’t strange to offer her a chance to come; to want her to come with him. With him and Felix, Percy reminded himself almost bitterly. The panic was instant, a long stream of silent curses to how stupid he must have sounded to her. Of course, she wouldn’t want to go with him, no one really enjoyed being around him. He was an annoyance. A pest. “With me and Felix,” he corrected as quickly as he could, careful to keep his face down, afraid she could see the sinking of his own heart and the hurt that shouldn’t have been there. Felix was more of a friend to her than he was, he was her best friend while Percy was just tolerated. “You should come with us, I know Felix would be excited not to be stuck with me.” Bag slung over her shoulder, Percy waited in bated breath as she fixed the messy ponytail. “I can’t leave my dad here, I’m all he has left.” “Right, of course.” Percy swallowed the sudden hurt that rose in his throat, pushed it all out from his mind. The emotions were strange, left him in a perplexed state to everything he had been ignoring the past few months when it came to Zoshia. “If things get bad . . .” He began, unsure of what else to say to her. He didn’t want to imagine worse than what was already happening. It meant full war, that Scrim was gone, and if he fell Percy would be to blame, no matter how or when it would happen. He abandoned his Minister of Magic when it could have made a difference if he remained where he belonged, where he fought so hard to get to. The possibilities grew heavy, made his letter of resignation heavier in the inner pocket of his jacket.  “I’ll find you if they do,” Zoshia said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, a shared sentiment to what it meant if things got worse.  “Where are you headed, anyway? It’s not even lunch.” Percy quick to change the subject as they left the office together.  “Head of Department told us to head home.” Her brows knitted a little, a playful nudge against Percy’s shoulder. “I thought that was why you came to see me. Scrim’s been sending people home all morning.” “No.” His voice gave away the betrayal he felt, that Scrim left him in the dark to something so peculiar. Maybe he knew what Percy was planning to do, he was always two steps ahead, it felt. Or possibly he didn’t want to broach the subject of Bill’s wedding that was due to take place later in the afternoon, and in some strange act of kindness loaded Percy with busy work to keep his mind off it. Annoyance to the situation simmered under Percy’s smile as they stopped outside the floo network. dwindling lines as people made their way out from the Ministry with the same suspicions that Percy felt. “Look,” Zoshia said quickly. “I’m rubbish with saying goodbyes so . . .”  Her face closed in on him, Percy’s own reaction delayed as he strained to hear any rumors of what was happening. By the time he noticed his personal space was consumed by the scent of lilacs, it was too late. He froze as soft lips pressed against the side of his face, Percy’s ears the last thing on his face to go the trademark Weasley red shade. He didn’t know how to respond, mind pulling at straws to what he wanted and what her kissing his cheek meant. Was it just friendly? A goodbye because she believed she would never see him again? Percy stood flushed, eyes wide with alarm the more his mind raced. “Just be careful, please.” It was the last thing she said, Zoshia giving a small wave as she backed up into the network and vanished suddenly. Prompt for  𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢 I'd prefer you go'

Prince Of Devils Asmodeus

11/20/2020 02:49 PM 

Bloody Hell here we go again
Current mood:  drunk

For starters love perhaps if I had a better Mother and a Father who stayed active. I just might feel up to the entire parenthood thing. Perhaps a day will come I do accept all you lot. But I do not see it being anytime soon. But do lead with caution princess. Often those who seek our cursed Throne. End up on it all alone. Or having to take places where its grand power is never seen or known. Trust me I realize it's not worth the cost. For its simply a Pyrrhic victory at best. And just due to the fact a brother has his sister ousted. Does not change the fact she still is much older and powerful than yourself.  So unless you and your new-found friends wish to stand as one against her. I say just let her be lost in titles the way Ethen is for they hold no true power to them. Not if those around you do not respect the name of the one wearing it. Otherwise love, you are simply seen as a usurper nothing more nor less. And from what I am hearing some new risen Warlock has come now. And seems to be the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. So why not let yourself follow in his steps. For our house is divided enough. It would be simply a bloody waste to poke at it any more with a spiteful knife. Instead, Princess go and find yourself a husband and become his wife. For that is what will be the key to your true happiness getting to be the parent you wished your mother and I had been. I am sorry that Am not able at this time to be a father to you. But it never means I lack love for you. Nor that I wish you a life full of curses. It just means I am not the right one to be around as a dad. At least not now, for tomorrow I just simply still see myself still lost in sorrow. Sharon if for some strange act of fate that is you. Perhaps what was said does hold some truth to it. Though how whoever wrote It knew it. I do not know. I can not deny it since the day you left. And seemed as each week passed you were less and less around. I did find myself feeling a little empty inside. Yet at the same time the way I have ruined both my brothers' lives. To the point, ether can live here any longer. Does haunt me often leaving me wishing to make amends to both. That ether will not allow me a chance to do so. If you have still loved me all these years. Like these people who are you or act as you and I do. Then do please reach out to myself love. otherwise, I will think this is nothing more than some sick cruel joke. And I can't wait to find out which bloody bloke it is. So I can teach them I am the wrong one to cross. 


Head Prat

11/20/2020 03:09 PM 

The Coup

                1 August, 1997 Breaths came in short and sharp gasps, heart racing against the speed in which he took down the flights of stairs to level six. Every instinct was to get to the apparition testing room, follow Scrim’s orders and get out, but his mind faltered between what was logical and what was right. The room came into focus, just within Percy’s grasp as he slowed to a stop. He could hear the shouts echo up through the corridors, some higher than others, while a cackling laughter sent the hair’s on his neck on edge.  C O W A R D The word hissed through his mind, a merciless taunt as he stalled at the only means of escape he had. Scrim knew, had some idea that death eater would be coming and got out as many people as he could. Tried to get him out. Scrim walked out from his office into the oncoming attack, his head high knowing that he wasn’t going to make it out alive. He didn’t run and hide, didn’t cower like a recreant. He acted like the auror he had been trained to be, nothing short of a true Minister of Magic. It explained everything, the odd conversation about how Percy would be needed later on, that this wasn’t his fight; but it was. The Ministry was his home.  The decision was fluid, a swift turn that had Percy stalking away from his second chance, a new life and directly into the threat. If the death eaters wanted him dead, they would find him no matter where he hid. And if he was going to die, Percy wasn’t planning to go out quietly. He would die protecting the one place that always felt like home to him, that always accepted him for who he was.  The scene at the mouth of the atrium was brutal, death eaters flooding in from the floo network as the aurors who remained tried to push them back in. Flashes of color streaked the air, curses thrown in every direction. While the aurors aimed to injure and disarm the death eaters came with only one intention. Kill as many as they could. Bodies sprawled out over the ground, lifeless faces of people Percy hardly knew seared into his mind, a stark reminder to the reality of what they were facing. Through the chaos Percy spotted Scrim, his face twisted in a snarl as he threw everything into his own curses against the death eaters that were circling him like a pack of vultures; each ready to be the one to take the first bite. The Ministry was greatly outmatched, so many staff members missing that could have aided and drove out the death eaters, but the deaths would have been greater as well. Their numbers dropped drastically as more fell to the killing curse. “Expulso!” Percy’s teeth barred as he waved his was furiously. There was a jet of blue that hit home in death eaters chest, bone crunching against the wall as they slumped down unconscious. He barely caught the look of a gratitude from Scrim, a fury building as everything Percy had been holding in erupted.  He should have been at Bill’s wedding, should have been watching his eldest brother get married but instead he was alone in the battle. His family didn’t want him there, they never truly wanted him even when things were good between them and it shattered him inside and out. Everything he had done, all the bullsh*t he put up with in having to raise not just his siblings at Hogwarts but Harry as well, forgotten. All of his family had made mistakes along the way, went against their parents about their futures, but only he was singled out for his. Always perfect, never able to misbehave or act like a blundering teenage like his brothers had. He had to live up to the idea of Perfect Percy until he made one mistake, a single momentary lapse of judgement from a broken heart, and he was quickly severed from the family, hoops of fire set for him to jump through if he wanted back in.  Percy snarled, his own magic turning lethal as he fought to get to Scrim’s side, pain pouring into every slash of his wand. His father knew, knew of the dangers Percy was in. He saw the same numbers, the same empty chairs of higher up officials rise that Percy did and still he did nothing. There was no attempt by Arthur to fix things, to even see if Percy was alright or safe. He went about his days, oblivious to the terror that his son lived in, a constant paranoia of when he would be next. The possibility of Percy’s death made no difference to the Weasley’s, what would the difference be in he died now? Would they see him as brave and valiant, or would he still a traitorous prat? A streak of green cleared his peripheral vision, Percy’s own attack ceased as he staggered forward. There was a brief swell of panic as he turned in time to deflect the curse only to be hit with another that sent him to the ground. Backed into a corner, Percy’s eyes never left Scrim as they hauled him away into the lift, the Minister’s head high and still defiant. Percy knew it deep in his gut this was the end, was certain that he wouldn’t make it beyond the point. Briefly his mind flickered to his family and then to Zoshia, panic melding into bile in his stomach that slowly inched its way up his throat. Percy’s wand quivered as he kept deflecting, no chance to go on an attack of his own. He shook not in fear of death, a part of him almost welcoming it. No, he shook in the veracity of his loneliness; that he was dying alone and not a soul in his family would care. A sudden rush of pain jolted throughout Percy’s body, five death eaters descending like vultures. It was all in vain, every defensive spell used to block the hexes and curses. There was nowhere for him to go. Percy saw no way out from what was happening. His mouth was soaked in the taste of his own blood, Percy’s teeth clenched into his tongue as the curse hit him from the side before he could block it. Bruised and winded, Percy lunged for the nearest death eater, head pounding as he did what all of his siblings would have in a time like this. Knuckles cracked over the mask, one astounding hit that left him vulnerable as he scrambled past, lanky limbs tumbling over the body as Percy made a run. There was no logic behind it, no thought or consideration for himself as he tried to get to the lift. It was a one in a million chance he would cause enough of a distraction that Scrim would be able to break the Anti-Disapparition Jinx long enough to apparate out. Air knocked from his lungs, Percy hit the floor before he even took three steps. The death eater advanced, the horror like mask inching closer, light reflecting against it that gave it a cheshire grin like expression. Arms ached as Percy pulled himself back, a blind search for his wand, vision blurred under the cracked glasses. “Cruico.” The pain wasn’t sharp like a needle or a knife, nothing at all like how it was described it the books. It started at his very core, a burn that scorched his insides in pulsating waves that grew with strength. Percy’s mind hollowed as the pain drove through his back, limbs twisted unnaturally as his body convulsed on the ground. There was a gurgle in Percy’s attempt to breathe or to scream, anything that would allow a passage of oxygen to his lungs but the more he tried the more contorted his body arched. A moment of piece allowed him to reclaim a fragment of his mind, muscles tense against the twitch that held control over him. All at once it tore through him as he was hit again with the Cruciatus curse, fresh trauma to his body that had him longing for death.  Percy laid on the ground, pale face closed in a grimace, a blinding pain seared across his mind, muted his desire to scream through agony. He tried to hold it back, to keep it lodged in the back of his throat, but it tore through him as the curse strengthened. It held a raw quality to it, kept his mind latched to the reality that the noise coming from him was real, that he was being consumed by pain that held no limit until his body gave in. The scream shredded his throat, Percy’s eyes wide as he stared unseeing.  “Avada -”  “Don’t kill him.” The killing curse would have been a mercy. Pain cascaded down his body, the curse leaving him, but the effects lingered. Percy’s scream fell into silence, mouth rigid and open as his eyes remained wide with horror. Chalky face gaunt and twisted, his hands shook as they clenched in fists, nails digging into the palm of his hand until red leaked from the grooves, jolts of the curse coursing through him.  He didn’t need to look over to know the voice, Percy’s eyes closed tightly to the ghost that advanced on him. He was dead; he had to be dead. Percy witnessed his trial, saw them haul him away to Azkaban; the only thing Fudge ever did that Percy fully agreed with. The breath was hot, stunk of cigarettes that had him wanting to crawl away, Percy’s own limbs refusing to move, screamed out in protest as pain electrified through him. A small pathetic noise escaped him as Percy curled in on himself, the only protection he now had. “The Dark Lord wants little Weatherby alive.” Even through the agony and cracked glasses, Percy saw the unmasked face of Barty Crouch Jr. clearly as he leered down at him. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun while he deals with ol' Scrimgeour.” It was the last thing Percy saw, the end of Barty’s wand pointed directly at him with a perfectly devilish smile before his world went black. Ministry Falls Series; Part 2Featuring war мιnιѕтer. and pain and blood.You can read part 1 -> Before the fallPart 2 ->  Leading up to the CoupMassive shoutout to war мιnιѕтer. and ❝Megalomaniac; for letting me pester them about how and why Percy survived the coup, when in reality he should have been killed during it.

POD Summer Castellano

11/20/2020 02:05 PM 

The Princess in a Flower Basket
Current mood:  betrayed

For most princess's not having ether their Dad or Mother accept them. When both still were alive and kicking. Might make them feel a little jaded. But when it came to Summer it had only made her feel freer. And now she found her grams Voilet Piper at least she had someone she could count on as family outlet. For the most part she just still wondered whatever happened to her favorite uncle Alexander. Why he never tried to step up and keep the family thriving. And from what she had been hearing since some Meg shown up as another one their cousins. Things had changed a lot for all Kain's kids too. She had not talked to her cousin Nate in some time. But she knew a lot was going on. Has clearly upset him. And he just hoped he knew. That it was not any of her doing. She really had no idea who had been behind all of it. She just hoped it stopped now. And whoever it was. Might find a better use of their time. Summer truly never got a chance to know most of her gramps other kids. She really had only just known of them. And though the thought of day coming she might get that chance. Was something she would always welcome with open arms. She learned a lot of time ago. If you just choose to not dream. Then you can never end up with broken dreams. It was just not something that she chose to cling too. Like some others had. Just because a girl can only be let down so many times. Until it just finally reaches the point of no return. It's better to just learn to live your life in a world. That just rotates around you. And the new friends you make along the way.Besides unless Noah or Faith had chosen to come back. Since her daddy had no interest in taking the crown. Since he still felt some buried guilt over Ethen being the way he was now due to him. Then that would technically mean Summer would be next in line to lead. Since Mel had been thrown out of the family Royal linage ages ago. And just refused to ever accept it. The same way she refuses to accept Rhett is around. And still wants nothing to do with her. And Selene is also back and just can not stop laughing at her. But that just is ole Crazy whorish Mel. Always quick to bark out at others. What she truly feels in her own heart. She can try to throw others under the bus. But everyone recalls what her mental breakdowns had been like. So are we know likey it's her doing it. Cause after all who all knows us better than Mel? The Brat Princess from hell.  No matter Summer was not looking for a confrontation. She just simply wanted Mel to accept the fact if any was to lead us. The last person it should be is her. It would have been like Thor stepping out of the way for Hela. Cause that who Mel truly was to us. Hela the name even suits her feisty nature and red hair. But if a war was what Mel was seeking. Summer would be ready. For a wise Queen never seeks war but she is always prepared for one. 


D𝚎Ⅴἰιἰ𝘴𐒅 𝛨𝚎ἰ𝞒

11/20/2020 02:07 PM 

Forgiveness, IS moving on. -Starter.

Drabble/Chapter/Possible starter if asked.Forgiveness, IS moving on.{What if side of her story, if her father died during her hunt to stop his dealings or if he died in prison.}Put on song, heavily suggested.  The sky seemed to respond to everyone that day, The biggest drug lord to ever be put in jail was finally gone for good. Even though the clouds darkened around the mourning city, for some reason it felt like it was mourning for the girl who had to deal with fake words than the death of the drug lord. The darkness overcame the city in moments, rain began to pour down from the sky when a woman stepped outside of her studio. A black umbrella was placed over her head to avoid the rain hitting her clothes and hair. Two policemen stood at the side with their hands folded behind their back. Most likely waiting for her to do something, as far as the other people are concerned. It wasn’t like they could go out and claim a little girl saved their ass, after all her father wouldn’t be in jail if not for the evidence that placed him there in the first place.Alexis looked up at the sky and smiled, her lips genuinely making her face glow from the finality of the moment. Today her dark hair was curled in thick waves over her shoulder. Clips holding it in place, she painted herself in dark make-up that was still natural and her painted lips were a dark red. No matter how uncommon it was she wore a white blouse that had a deep v opening. It was soft and comfortable, so she didn’t care for wearing a jacket that morning, combined with that she walked to the car in long black pants and black pointed heels that clicked on the pavement. A strange outfit for a funeral to be sure.One of the men opened the black car for her and she stepped in with a grateful glance in his direction and smile. The men stood stoically, but not in a way that she felt threatened. Once she was in and the door closed, Alexis buckled herself in and glanced out the window to see her studio disappear into the distance. She couldn’t wait to go back there and just enjoy the peace she would have. A lot of work would have to be done later in the week. Many would need to see her became of the new title and power she would gain. Not as a drug lord, but as the head of the Winters family and a decent artist.The car ride was filled with silence until she was out of the car. One of the men held the umbrella until she got out before she took it with another look. “Thank you.” She said softly, her brown eyes looking back to the sky to watch the ran start to heavily pour down on them. Just how her lover would have enjoyed it. Alexis took a deep breath and walked the short distance to the church to meet with the other people that would be sitting with her. Queen's family are the people she worked with a lot so she asked them to sit with her along with others.Alexis knew that everyone thought she cared for her father, in some ways she did once upon a time. That ended when he decided to kill someone dear to her personally. Either way, the funeral was going to be held inside of the city which was known as city hall. Everything was cleared with rows of seats placed along the large overbearing hall. Her eyes took in the coffin at the front, her smile faded to a thin line. Roses attached to the case from her request.Jason Winters would want to be with his lover, so they went with burial instead of cremation. He hardly deserved the owner, Alexis inwardly scowled at the thought of doing this for him. Then again, her mother remembered a man who softened around her and he did mourn her death at one point. He wasn’t entirely evil, no one ever was born evil from birth. You can only be turned into something like that -Refusing - left her with the option to be something better than what her father wanted.Eventually, the brunette leveled on everyone and walked over to the front to sit down on a chair. Crossing her left leg over her right one with a look of annoyance. Her lips pressed even more into a thin line as if that would solve everything she felt. When the funeral director asked her if she was going with some music she asked to keep that a secret until she came in and everyone was settled. She wanted to do this differently, for her sake and for the people who assumed she was just as bad as her father. Alexis glanced off to the side, the doors behind them finally closed with two policemen standing at the front.The minster came forward and stood on the stage, everyone watched him ready the bible for his speech. Even if it was hardly something that would be deserved. She could just see the conflict the poor man felt. This was going against everything he believed in. Alexis clenched the book on her lap, never opening it or bowing her head for the death of her father. Her ears could just pick up the tell signs of someone sniffling over the speech, either it was fake or they were mourning the final moment of the chaos that her father had caused over the years.Her face softened slightly, her lips parting with a heavy sigh. “…This is so stupid.” She muttered for the people closest to her to hear. A slight glance in her direction when her head bowed, thick curls ticking the side of her face for a second.“ Now, as requested we will be doing the music differently this afternoon. Miss Winters, the daughter, and future heir would like a word with everyone in this room. And the time to say goodbye to her father.”“ I hate when they call on me like that.” The heiress grumbled, her brown eyes daring to glare at anyone who looked. Her eyes squinted, but stood anyway and walked the short walk up the stairs on stage. When she was faced with the crowd and the microphone her eyes could easily take in everyone, as well as the people who stared back. Behind them, the doors opened to let him the head of the police force who went to lean against the wall.Alexis moved her brown hues away, the tell signs of sorrow and annoyance open to the crowd. Many of them thought she was sad for her father, but personally, she was sad that this was going to finally end. The people who she couldn’t save, and just knowing that so many wouldn't accept her kindness after this would make her hurt. She was ready for that. Had to be, or this would be the end of her work and she had no intention of stopping herself from helping the people her father hurt. No way.   Father, I'm gonna say thank youEven if I'm still hurt.Oh, I'm gonna say bless youI wanna mean those words.   “ I want to start by saying… Thank you. I know he wasn’t the best person in the world and by no means was he much of a father past the age of six. Still, without you and my mother, I would not even be here. I do mean that, at least.” Alexis placed her hands in front of her and gave them a smile. Closing her eyes, silencing some of the evil looks that some of the families were giving her at that moment.No one ever knew what was going on from the inside. Judgemental people would never understand, she knew that. It was a miracle that she even wanted to tell them this. Maybe it was for herself, or to help them move on. She didn’t know. What she did know is that everything was going to be okay from here on.   Always wished you the bestI, I prayed for your peace.Even if you started thisThis whole war in me.   “ There was a time when I have someone dear to me, before that, I was more than… Hesitant to follow anything my father said. You might have noticed that any love we had was gone by the time I knew how to fight.” Alexis told them while reopening her eyes to them, lowering her gaze slightly, “ He hardly deserves anyone being here and yet. Here you are, throwing your false feelings to the front.” The crowd gasped at her accusing, some stayed seated and bit their lip from saying anything. What use was there to say anything?The whole point was to throw their false to the side and speak for herself. “ It’s okay - Even I don’t love my father.” She told them if only to shut them up, “ If you remember. On the news, a young man stood by me by the name of James Smith. He was my lover, my world.” Alexis started to say, her eyes slowly starting the burn by the mention of the name she felt previous emotions come back. “…And he was killed by a hit and run. Today is about telling you the truth about that day no matter the… Thoughts you might have of me.”   You did your best or did you?Sometimes I think I hate you.I'm sorry, dad, for feelin' this.I can't believe I'm sayin' it.I know you were a troubled manI know you never got the chance.To be yourself, to be your best.I hope that Heaven's given you.A second chance.   The music was emotional at best, played low so they could hear the young woman speak to them about what happened to the young man. Alexis had to blink more than once to keep herself from crying in front of them. “ My father found out there was a spy close to them. A traitor,” Her eyes looked over the rows of people and a slight confident smile crossed her face. “He just didn’t realize that the spy was more close to… Home.” The people gasped and shouted their disbelief at her involvement. Alexis stood tall and continued, her eyes shining with determination. “ I, Alexis Belle Winters… Formally announce our deepest… The sorrow that we couldn’t bring my father down sooner. I will spend my day making up for his mistakes.”   Father, I'm gonna say thank youEven if I don't understand.Oh, you left us aloneI guess that made me who I am.  She couldn’t even tell if anyone was angry with her anymore, the looks of their face were blurred with the tears falling from her eyes. It was true what they say, she was just like her mother. Even going as far as to take up the art she loved. Alexis honestly couldn’t say she was going to do well with working with the people who hate her and her father. “ I wanted nothing more than to kill my father, I thought it would be easier. James was the one who told me that there was a harder way, but in the end, it would be right to put him in jail. If he didn’t have that laptop….” Her lips trembled, breathing with shaky breathes. “I can only try to do what’s right from here on. So I guess, it was my father who made me who I am today.” She admitted bitterly, another tear falling down her pale skin.   Always wished you the bestI, I, I pray for your peaceEven if you started thisThis whole war in me  Alexis couldn’t be much more honest with her words today, and really it was their choice on what they do with it. She gave a sad smile and left the stage. Not bothering to return to the seat she had taken shortly before leaving. She went right toward the back of the room where the police opened the door for her. “…Thank you.” Her face showed the relief for their understanding nature, the captain in his old age looked more like a father to her than her own. The wrinkles and blue eyes stared her down with a soft expression. “Let’s get you to the mansion. Everyone will come if they want.” He said in a rough voice.She couldn’t agree more and made no waste of the time. The brunette went for the police car with the men and settled herself in. Her head leaning back with eyes closing.It was over, finally.   You did your best or did you?Sometimes I think I hate you.I'm sorry, dad, for feelin' this.I can't believe I'm sayin' it.I know you were a troubled man.I know you never got the chance.To be yourself, to be your bestI hope that Heaven's given you.You did your best or did you?Sometimes I think I hate you.I'm sorry, dad, for feelin' thisI can't believe I'm sayin' it.I know you were a troubled man.I know you never got the chance.To be yourself, to be your best.I hope that Heaven's given youA second chance….


11/20/2020 01:33 PM 

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