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thevoidscreams · 4 years

Note

“death cannot stop true love. all it can do is delay it for a while” with kung lao?

(Yes. Absolutely. I’m so sorry it took this long. But a lot of things came up.)

Losing the love of your life was like losing your soul. Your whole life came undone, pulled out from beneath you like a rug.

Eyes overflowing you desperately tried to grasp what Raiden was telling you. His words didn’t seem to fully register with you as your heart was wrenched from your chest.

Kung Lao was dead, your husband, the father of the child still growing inside you, he was never coming back. Even though he’d been a monk an exception was made for the two of you. He was your soulmate after all so it was immoral to keep the two of you from being together. Raiden had vouched for the two of you and soon after you were married.

It felt like a lifetime ago even if it’s only been a year. Your first anniversary was in a week but now you would never get a chance to celebrate it.

You lost your drive to do many things.

You did pray. It was one thing you did constantly, praying to the elder gods to give you back the love of your life.

Raiden stopped by a lot to check in on you. Even if he was busy he found the time. You were having tea with him at his temple, the air was warm and still, but most of all it was quiet.

“They do hear you. I think it is only fair that I tell you that they have heard you in this time of strife. They grieve for you and your loss, but there is an order to everything and they cannot give him back to you.”

You sipped your tea, tears pouring down your cheeks. Sometimes they simply began and didn’t stop for hours till you were cried out.

“I know. I know I cannot have him back, but I feel like I have to at least try. I miss him more and more every minute he’s gone.”

Raiden felt his chest tighten not only at the sight of your tears but at your words as well. He missed his student more than he could say and you were very dear to him as well. Not only as a human, someone he was meant to protect, but also as a friend. You were kind and good, you did not deserve this pain. The lord of thunder felt he had failed both you and Kung Lao.

Shortly after Liu Kang joined you both and you made light talk about general things, the weather, his training, your friends and plans for the future.

The future. Without him it didn’t feel like a future at all. You hand ran over the swell of your belly and Liu Kang’s eyes became sad. As arrogant and prideful as his friend had been he still would have been a wonderful father. Of that he had no doubts. It was something he would never get to witness.

Raiden dropped you off at home, giving you a reassuring hug. He wasn’t the most touchy feely person but his hugs did make you feel safe and loved. He was like a second father to you, making sure that everything was well and that you were taking care of yourself. You likely would be an even bigger mess without him. When he left you were alone again. Left to your own devices you decided to have a bath and some cake and call it an early night.

It was over a month now. You were showing even more than before, a noticeable waddle now a natural part of your gate.

You were getting frequent calls from your friends and family. Kung Lao's family had even offered to let you stay with them, but you didn’t want to be a burden to them. However you did ask for any little items he might have owned. Being a monk meant he didn’t have much, but there were a few bits and pieces he’d left behind.

The month you had lived was agony and the dull ache in your chest had not yet left you. You had been sleeping with one of his old shirts as a pillow case. His smell had faded but the fabric still brought you comfort. A comfort that was fleeting as it became apparent that you’d never have him beside you again.

The netherrealm was anything but comfortable.

It was full of the dead and evils of the world. Not the most ideal place to set up shop. But for a revenant it was really the only option.

Kung Lao hated it here. He wanted to be with you and your child, he missed you so badly. His memories of your smile and laugh were his only saving graces in this hellscape. Time was different here too, he wondered if you’d given birth yet, if you were holding his son or daughter and telling them about him. He wanted to see if you were well, to see if his baby was well. He loved them more than he could say and he’d not even met them in person yet. Lao did not want to be here, he wanted to tell you he loved you and tell your child that he loved them as well. If he could get out of here he could do just that. But he needed to escape first. He knew Raiden could fix this if he tried. He could return Lao to life and back to normal. The magic that kept him from you was reversible. He just had to find a way out. Then he could hold you in his arms and kiss you. His love, the light of his life, his everything, his wife. He never dreamed he would be able to have a lover let alone a wife. But then you came along and flipped his world upside down in the best way possible.

Could think of one thing but it was risky. As mad as he was at Raiden for letting him rot down here, maybe there was still a way for the guardian to help him.

Kung Lao sat and bowed his head in silent prayer. He hadn’t focused this hard on prayer in a very long time but he needed it to get through. He prayed to every being he could think of and whoever answered first is who’s help he’d take. It didn’t matter to him. As long as he could be with you. Death would not keep him any longer.

It was the middle of the night, dark and peaceful as the rain pelted your windows, falling in sheets that soaked everything.

The worn fabric of your husband’s shirt pressed against your cheek as you watch the water falling down the panes of glass. Your tummy wedge was tucked snuggly under your bump, it was hard to lay down without it now. The little one was restless, moving this way and that, you couldn’t sleep because the tiny boy inside you had decided already that anything to do with kicking was going to be his favorite style. More than once you’d made a mad dash to the bathroom to stop from peeing yourself. You couldn’t be mad though this little person was what had kept you going these past weeks. So lonely and depressed that most of the time you didn’t want to get up. But you had to eat, you had to drink water, you had to be clean and healthy for the little human you loved so much. There were times that thinking about how you would be holding him soon was nearly enough to vanquish the darkness from your mind and heart.

However the darkness would always find its way back into you like a serpent gliding over the slowly crumbling walls into a sunlite garden to hide in the beautiful plants. Striking when least expected even if you knew it was there.

Your eyes became heavy, drooping and ready to fall asleep. A shadow slipped quickly and silently past your window. Someone was outside your house, it was storming but someone was out and about in the rain. This wouldn’t have been too big of a deal if you lived closer to other people, but your little home was mildly isolated.

You were not as quick as you’d have liked to have been as you rolled out of bed in a panic.

You were beyond spooked. You were terrified. The closet had a little crawlspace in which you could hide. You grabbed your phone from the end table and tried as hard as you could to be quiet getting in. You heard the front door open as you got to the closet. Hadn’t you locked it?

You didn’t know who was there or why but your safest bet was to hide and wait it out.

The house was quiet, even for this time of night. The front door had been locked but the stone turtle that hid the spare key had not been moved from it’s spot in the front garden.

The revenant moved through the living room till he reached the halfway to the back of the house. There was no sound but the rain and it was unnerving. He knew you were here though, where else would you be?

He stopped in the nursery, the crib was empty and the night light was unplugged. His heart sank. The whole house was so awfully still it began to scare Kung lao.

The bedroom was the next room over, the carpet masked any sounds his feet might have made. He missed the feeling of something plush underfoot.

When he arrived in the room the bed was empty, the covers were pulled back and unmade. He frowned and placed his hand against the mattress. Still warm.

You were here, you must be hiding, he must have scared you without realizing. He felt foolish and his hope that the deal he’d made to come back to you would be for not.

His eyes caught his reflection in the full length mirror on the wall by the closet. He was a ghastly sight, his gray skin, once smooth was now cracked and his eye once full of life now glowed eerily. He feared you’d want nothing to do with him the moment you saw.

A soft shuffle drew his eyes away from the horror that stood before him. It came from the closet.

He pulled the door open, his movements slow and gentle in case you were in there.

The door to the crawlspace was ajar and he knew that it had to be where you were hiding.

Though it saddened him to think that you were hiding from him it made sense.

Kneeling next to the entrance to the tiny storage room, his knees crushing shoes that he didn’t take the time to move, Lao cleared his throat and heard a soft distressed sound.

As quietly and as sweetly as he could he called for you.

The room seemed even more silent than before. Anticipation hung heavily in the air as the tiny door creaked open slowly. One wide eye peeked out disbelieving at the sight of your dead love in the closet.

“LAO!” The door burst open and your form crashed into him sending you both tumbling out of the closet and onto the bedroom floor. Your stomach made hugging him a little difficult but it did not stop your lips from finding his the moment he landed on his back.

You peppered his mouth, cheeks and nose with kisses, barely managing to get out a coherent sentence instead simply conveying your overwhelming joy in tears and a barrage of affection.

“H-how? Kung Lao, I thought I’d lost you forever. How did you come back?”

He cupped your cheeks in his hands, enjoying the warmth that he felt from your skin in his cool palms.

“Cetrion. She told me that if I came back and you would accept me then I could stay. That I could have life again.”

“Of course I’ll have you back. I’ll never turn you away, how could I? I thought that we would never be able to be with you and it nearly killed me.’ You placed your hand and his on your large baby bump. “I was so afraid I’d have to live my life without having my true love to share it with.”

Kung lao kissed you sweetly and held you in his arms.

“Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.”

Once you were both able to pull yourselves apart long enough to stand he guided you to the bed and helped you back into it. The rain was softly tapping on the glass of the window, now much lighter than it was before.

Kung Lao was able to rest with you again, he was able to sleep. But he didn’t need to, his dream already came true. He was with you again.

#kung lao #kung lao x reader #kung lao x you #mk11 #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #mk11 kung lao

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moonlightflower21 · 4 years

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Escape?

A/N: rushed, unedited, angsty/fluffy. i just wanted to write for leo :)

"A round of applause for our new comrade" her wicked voice cackled, pulling you up while a footbot soldier loosened the ties around your wrists and body. Their hands skimmed down your leg and you hoped they wouldn't recognise the knife you were hiding.

"What are ya doing??" Raph hissed under his breath, eyes wide at the actions you were committing. This wasn't his best friend, he refused to believe you were going against them. There was no way, right??

"I'm sorry" was the only answer you could provide, standing up and straightening your back. You had to sound cold, angry at them but how? They had been nothing but supportive, funny and sweet. Since the moment you saw them up until now.

"Y/N, stop! You can't do this!" Mikey whisper yelled at you, his baby blues holding disbelief. He watched you merely shrug and his heart dropped down to the out of his stomach. Since when did you turn so cold??

"Did you plan this the entire time??" Donnie's voice sounded cold, and it made your stomach turn. Even when you both first met, he hadn't ever held this much anger directed at you. You took a breath, and stood by Karai watching the turtles struggle against their binds.

"This is a beautiful scene, really. Your lover and his brothers all helpless and vulnerable. Their father all alone and defenceless. Almost takes the fun out of the kidnapping" Karai gloated, skimming her fingers against the ropes that prevented the turtles from moving.

Only one stared directly at you, his gaze penetrating through your body and to your soul. Leonardo, your boyfriend. He hadn't said a word, his posture stoic and yet his eyes melted into yours. True, the rest of his brothers may have been questioning your loyalty and he was tied in front of you mercy to whatever horrible punishment Karai wanted to inflict upon them, but something stirred deep within his gut. That you were out here to do the right thing. You knew exactly what you were doing, and you had the intentions to go along with it.

"Let these pathetic mutants wither in here, for tomorrow will hold a grand surprise. Both me and you" she turned her head to you, cherry lips curved into a devil smirk. Clicking her fingers, the footbots followed aside from you.

"Any last words?" She nudged your side and you laughed gently, eyes trained on the leader. This was your chance, you could give him the weapon and he would be able to free himself and his brothers.

"There's a few I'd like to say" You glanced at the rest of them, all holding betrayed and anger ridden expressions. If looks could kill, you certainly would have been under the ground.

All aside from one. Waiting.

You walked straight to him, feeling the glance of the woman, soldiers, and the turtles on you. "There's no way to escape. Hope you rot in this cell" you uttered, heart hammering wildly against your ribs. You had to focus though, they needed to be freed. You heard chuckles from the footbots and short gasps from the team.

"Loving the new attitude" she smirked and you acted the same, but when a footbot went to talk to her your expression changed. Leo's eyes burned into yours, hands clenched tightly at the ropes wrapped around. You stood up, hands in your pocket before pulling out a small knife. Leaning forwards, you pretended as though you were tightening his ropes but dropped the knife in a pocket where he had easy access to. His own mouth parted a little, looking straight back at you and chuckled softly. The corners of his mouth tilted upwards, gracing his lips with the sweetest smile. A true masterpiece

"Be safe out here Leo, please" you whispered, eyes burning a little with unshed tears. His heart thumped proudly, knowing that you indeed did the right thing. He wouldn't ever forget this.

"I will. You stay safe too. I love you" he desperately wanted to kiss you but he had to avoid any suspicion. "I will. I love you too" you mumbled, stepping back and plastering on a neutral face again.

"What were you doing??" Karai asked, placing a hand on her hips. "Making the ropes tighter. They looked loose" you shrugged, pointing to his hand and she slowly nodded. "That's fine. Let's go" she ordered and you obliged. You turned your head one last time, looking at the brothers scared to see their faces that would hold nothing short of a death glare. But it greatly surprised you when in fact, they showed the complete opposite. Anger burned away, posture a little more relaxed.

They caught on, hiding a smile and you winked, confirming that you were trying to bust them out of here too. Raph, Mikey and Donnie gave apologetic smiles and proud grins. Leo smiled, but his touched your heart. He was the only one believed that you had the pure intentions. He was the only one who knew what you were doing. He really is the perfect boyfriend... You smiled back at the brothers, following Karai reluctantly out of the room.

"Make sure they are locked up tight. No escape" she uttered to the guard and you watched Leo from the cracks of the door. He raised his head, eyes meeting yours instantly and your heart beated fast at the look he gave. You blew a kiss to Leo, hoping he would get out safe. His head cocked to the right slightly, ocean eyes holding the love since he couldn't do the actions.

You loved his eyes, they were so beautiful and always telling you what he felt in the morning. He could never really truly mask the emotions he felt around you. And with that the door slammed shut, echoing throughout the long corridor.

Your fingers grazed the metal, praying they would be safe. That they would come back safe and sound.

#tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader fanfic #tmnt leo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leonardo x reader angst/fluff #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt x reader angst

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lightchildofthespring · 3 years

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The fantastic adventures of Takeru Takaishi

Chapter 4: Old friend

Summary: with no news from his henchmen, who had gone up the hill after the revolutionaries, the lord of Turtle Island has a conversation with the monk. The mysterious cleric sounds like a young man, but doesn’t act like one. The Goddess, the Devil, the Angel of Death, the Light stealer... the mystery behind Koushiro’s curse begins to be unveiled by his oldest friend.

Shigeo Yamanaka was very surprised by the visit of a member of the Order of the Nameless Monks that morning. They were the highest order in the hierarchy of the Church, having only the High Priestess above them, and they were said to be the most skilled warriors in the world. The one who entered his house unceremoniously had the voice of a young man, but something in his way of talking denounced more age and experience than that person should have.

The monk told him that the Goddess herself had given him the mission of helping Yamanaka destroy the revolutionaries on that island. Yamanaka wasn't sure he could trust that man, but to oppose a nameless monk could bring grave repercussions, such as losing his title of Lord of Turtle Island. Besides, sending his armed henchmen up the hill to hunt down the rebels would probably not cause too many losses, considering that the revolutionaries usually ran from battles they couldn't win. What caused him apprehension, though, was to be left alone in the mansion with that cleric who, not satisfied in sending away his henchmen, also ordered Yamanaka's employees to leave the place for the rest of the day.

Hours passed and the night fell. The smoke that had been seen on the hill earlier had already dissipated. Yet, there was no sign of anyone returning from that place. His men largely outnumbered the rebels, there should be no possibility that they could have lost. The noble kept telling himself that, attempting to remain calm. His men couldn't have been defeated! It was impossible!

But what if it wasn't? It became too hard to divert his mind from that possibility. He sent everybody there! Everybody! If the revolutionaries, by some miracle, killed them all, Yamanaka would be left without enforcers! Who would collect the taxes? Who would punish the insolent and ungrateful peasants? What about the servants? Who would keep them under control?

Then, a different and more visceral fear emerged. In the off chance that he lost all his henchmen, who would keep the Lord of Turtle Island safe? Those ignorant peasants would invade his property and steal his valuable possessions! Those brutes would threaten his life in exchange for richness they didn't deserve! The Yamanaka house had served the Empire for almost one thousand years, which was the same as serving the Goddess! How could he accept that the blessings received by his family, a true reward for their hard work and loyalty, could be tainted by simple-minded commoners who didn't know their place?

Yamanaka took a deep breath. There was nothing good at letting his imagination get wild. That cleric, a true messenger of the Goddess, had assured him that things would work out fine. Weren't the nameless monks known for being undefeatable? The noble had nothing to fear when a carrier of divine grace had vowed to protect him. Nevertheless, he was still standing in front of the large window of his living room, trying to spot anything suspicious in the dark. Without Yamanaka noticing it, the monk took the liberty to take two glasses of wine from a cabinet. He approached Yamanaka and offered him one of the glasses while taking a sip from the other.

“I thought monks weren't allowed to drink alcohol,” Yamanaka commented, astonished at the audacity of that man, who was treating himself to such expensive wine.

Shouldn't monks be frugal? Shouldn't they avoid earthly pleasures? That man was certainly a disgrace to the Church! Yamanaka wished he could see the other's face, which remained mostly covered by the cloak's hood, so that he could give the description to one of his friends in the court, who would certainly alert the High Priestess about the inadequacy of having such a disrespectful man as part of the Church's highest order!

The monk smirked, confusing Yamanaka. He couldn't imagine how anything he had said could have been perceived as funny.

“You seem like someone very knowledgeable on the matters of religion” the cleric told him. “How about I put that to a test? It'd help to pass the time, don't you agree?”

Yamanaka's annoyance dissolved as terror took over his being. He had heard stories about the ways the nameless monks tested people's faith through the centuries. In all those stories, he didn't remember about someone who had passed the test. The punishment for failing, as everybody knew, was excommunication. Was that monk really such a petty person, did that man have such a low soul, that he would get revenge over an innocent remark about wine? Especially when that cleric was the one in fault while Shigeo Yamanaka had never done anything wrong in his entire existence?

“Let's see...” the monk said. The amusement in his voice was undeniable, “what can you tell me about Justine the Great?”

Yamanaka relaxed. That should be the easiest question in the world. Maybe that cleric really just wanted to pass the time. Why did his imagination have to be that much of a burden?

“The first Empress was the mightiest warrior to ever live. She never lost a battle and conquered the entire Old Continent by the time she was 34 years old,” Yamanaka spoke with absolute confidence. “When she died, right after giving birth to her son Marius, it is said that pure white light rose from her body, marking her ascension to the Heavens. That consolidated the already popular belief that Justine was never an ordinary human, but a goddess incarnated. The only Goddess to ever bless our world!”

The monk laughed. Yamanaka was perplexed at the reaction. In the good old days, that lack of respect for the Goddess would demand death by fire!

“Such passion! Such faith! You remind me of myself when I was younger,” the monk told him.

“I am older than you!” Yamanaka stated. “In my very long life, I had never met anyone nearly as blasphemous as you, monk!”

“Is that so? How lucky must you be...” the cleric's voice suddenly became cold and low. Nervous, Yamanaka drank some of the wine that he had been offered.

“I had a blasphemous friend, once...” the monk said, gazing out of the window. “My sister and I rescued him from the sea, I remember he was too terrified to speak. We arranged a place for him at the Izumi farm, which was close to ours. Mr. and Mrs. Izumi were old and needed help... he said that he wanted to help people... back then, I believed in everything he said...”

“Why are you telling me about a random friend of yours?” Yamanaka inquired.

“Oh, my apologies...” the monk had irony in his voice, “is there something else you wish to discuss?”

“As a matter of fact, there is!” Yamanaka stated. “For instance, why hasn't any of my henchmen returned yet? How long could it take for them to hunt those damn rebels? You told me it would be an easy victory!”

“Your henchmen saw the Devil and ran away,” the monk informed. “They won't come to this place, but the revolutionaries will.”

“What did you just say?” Yamanaka believed that the other man had a strange sense of humor.

“You remind me of the Lord of Turtle Island we had when I was growing up, Shigeo...”

“Don't call me by my first name, young man!” Yamanaka scolded the other. “Does your insolence know no limits! This is definitely not the behavior I expect from a holy man!”

“When the plague came, that man didn't care about the people who were dying,” the monk continued his story, ignoring the other. “He hid behind the walls of his castle, praying that he could be spared...” his tone became increasingly darker, which sent chills down Yamanaka's spine, “I've always wondered what would have happened if at least he had tried to help... my parents... my sister... maybe they could've been saved. But that lord was a selfish pig who only had contempt for the people who served him. Just like you...”

“Now, that's enough!” Yamanaka roared. “I don't care about your rank! I'll denounce you to the Emperor himself! And the Emperor shall have the High Priestess excommunicate you! I'm from an important noble family and won't tolerate anyone disrespect-”

The monk took out a sword that had been concealed under his cloak and pointed it to the noble's direction. Yamanaka fell on his back. He hadn't let go of the glass of wine he had been holding, which had broken and was now cutting the palm of his hand.

Was he going to die? He had never seriously considered that anyone would have the nerve to spill the blood of a noble man like him. That was inconceivable! To kill a noble was to insult the Emperor! It was an insult to the Goddess herself! As a cleric, that man should know that better than anyone! Or did he think that, for being a nameless monk, he was entitled to disrupt the natural order of the world?

The monk approached him and put the tip of the sword on the old man's neck, who was shaking from the top of his head to his toes. He wanted to protest against the ignominy of it all. But, disgracefully, his self-preservation instinct seemed to have proven itself as stronger than his honor. Therefore, he begged:

“P-Please, don't k-kill me... I-I didn't mean to offend you in a-any way... I'll give you a-anything you w-want... I'll do a-anything...”

“Do you know what would be fun? What about we continue with our little test?” the assailant proposed in low voice. “Tell me about the Devil, Shigeo.”

Yamanaka knew that his life depended on him answering that right. Unfortunately, that knowledge only made him more anxious. All the things that he had learned about the subject were escaping his mind in great speed. Desperate, he tried to answer before he forgot what the question even was.

“T-The stealer of L-Light...” Yamanaka stuttered, “h-he t-tried to s-steal a s-soul from H-Heaven and g-got p-p-punished... c-cursed w-with i-infinite d-deaths...”

“That's the basic version of the story,” the monk commented. “The soul he tried to steal belonged to the kindest and sweetest person who had ever lived. When she was taken by the plague, I thought my life was over... but my friend...” he trembled, “he promised that he would help her... the next thing I knew, Justine herself was in front of me, and she told me...” a single tear was visible rolling down his cheek, “... she told me that my friend's sins had been so grave that it wasn't enough to just curse him. My sister, the one he had tried to rescue, was sent to the deepest dungeon in Hell. And the Goddess gave me the mission of purging Koushiro's soul until it's completely purified... I was to kill my best friend again and again, until his soul was saved... only then, she would release her... to save my sister, I have become the Angel of Death.”

At that point, Yamanaka was completely convinced that the cleric was out of his mind and lost hope that he could be able to reason with him.

“I believe the revolutionaries have arrived,” the monk announced, turning to the door of the living room. A muscular blond man and a woman with orange hair kicked the door open and entered the room, accompanied by five other people. They all were pointing their guns at Yamanaka, who was still on the floor, lying on his back. The blond man shot the monk twice. The bullets, however, stopped in midair. They turned incandescent and melted, never reaching their target.

“He really is invulnerable... just like Koushiro said...” the redhead woman murmured.

“I-Impossible!” another woman, with purple hair, exclaimed. She had a disturbed look on her face.

“What a lovely group you are,” the monk commented, bemused. “I don't feel like killing you tonight. It would be better to get out of my way.”

“You promised you would protect me!” Yamanaka shouted, desperate. “I did everything you told me to do, monk! You can't just leave me with those bandits!”

“Are you really that dense, Shigeo?” the monk asked, annoyed. “Were you paying attention to anything I said? I never intended to protect you! I simply used you to lure my friend to this place!”

The glass window behind the cleric and the noble was broken as six bullets, in sequence, were shot from the outside. The bullets were stopped by an invisible field surrounding the monk and, in a matter of seconds, they melted.

Astonished, Yamanaka watched as that strange man turned to the broken window, beaming. The monk took his hood off, allowing the wind to mess his large brown hair.

At the garden, outside the window, a man drenched in blood stood, still holding the shotgun.

“How many times did you die on your way here, Koushiro?” the monk inquired, jumping to the garden. “Honestly, you embarrass me at times. What was the big idea, anyway? You know you can't hurt me. Not physically, at least.”

“I was simply trying to get your attention,” Koushiro informed. “Sometimes, you can be so easily distracted...”

“You should know by now that nothing can distract me from you,” the other said, pointing his blade at Koushiro's direction. “Shall we dance, old friend?”

Koushiro looked at him with sadness and replied:

“What other choice do I have, Taichi?”

#the fantastic adventures of takeru takaishi #digimon #digimon adventure #au fic #koushiro izumi #I hope you guys like friends to enemies trope #izumi koushiro #yagami taichi #taichi yagami #sadly Takeru doesn't appear in this chapter #sort of #taishiro

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diveronarpg · 4 years

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Congratulations, KAY! You’ve been accepted for the role of HELENUS. Admin Rogue: I will be honest and say I must have read this app six times since we got it, minimum. There was something about your words that made me want to live in them forever, to tell Hugo all my secrets and let him tell me his. Hugo is so easy to turn saintly or push toward martyrdom, and your Hugo is a good person with all his flaws on display, humanity shining forth so clearly from him that he breaks my heart. He reminds us that sometimes God’s will brings down the crusades; he understands peace the same as he has made war, and Hugo knows the sanctity of blood in how he cannot wash it from his hands. I think I fell a little in love with him in this app, in spite of his Jimmy Buffet obsession, and that’s when I knew we couldn’t go another day without him! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Obiwan Kaynobi

Age | 25

Preferred Pronouns | She/her

Activity Level | I feel like I’m active on the dash at least twice a week, and if I’m not posting replies I’m able to lurk the dash on mobile and plot on discord. But, with the quarantine and finally getting into a rhythm, I think I’ll be able to get on the dash more often!

Timezone | The Twilight Zone jk it’s PST now!

Triggers | REMOVED

How did you find the rp? | One day Pandora showed up in my brain and I couldn’t get rid of her. Now Hugo also lives there with his Catholic guilt and honestly it’s a nightmare.

Current/Past RP Accounts | Here’s Panda’s blog!

IN CHARACTER

Character | Helenus, Hugo Kim. Hu-go, (German); meaning mind. Kim, (Korean); meaning gold, iron.

What drew you to this character? | Honestly, the thing that struck me about Hugo was that he’s the guiding light for so many people - and it’s ironic. He’s the prophet of the people, telling them each Sunday to do well, to be good and then he turns around and commands the other Capulet soldiers to harm others. And honestly, I think there are times that Hugo questions the good word. His hands are stained with blood and it doesn’t matter how many confessions he sits through because they’ll be stained red forever.

I also love that despite his affiliation with the Capulets, he does hold sermons on Sundays. Religion is the one thing that he has left of his parents - his mother - and Cosimo can pry that from his cold, dead hands. There’s a sort of natural confidence Hugo exudes when preaching and it spills over into his missions. In his bio it says, “They flock and he guides them, a SHEPHERD to Cosimo Capulet’s people.” He’s someone that people will listen to regardless of whether he’s leading the mission or not.

But, the one thing that really stood out to me with Hugo is his devotion. Whether it’s to his mother, God, Halcyon, he’s 100% devoted no matter what. He puts the time needed to do a job well done and I think that’s something most people look over with Hugo. There is no person more devoted to the morals he’s bound to than him. It’s something that makes him stand out from the rest of the gang members.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

a. Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. The Cathedral is technically Capulet territory, but Lawernce wandered in one night and let every sin fall from his lips, tethering the two of them together whether the liked it or not. This encounter is something that can and will tear Hugo apart. He’s bound to both the church and the Capulets - neither of which he ever planned on crossing. Watching him struggle between his faiths is something I would love to see happen on the dash.

b. Sister Saint Monica, you’ve got me on my knees. Halcyon, his personal angel sent from Cosimo. She’s his guiding light, his angel of mercy, the one he’ll pray to each night - and I would love to see how far he’s willing to go for her. How much blood will he spill in order to feed the person he sees as a God? And of course, how will that guilt manifest after he’s done it? How often will he find himself on the bathroom floor, shaking and sobbing from the faces that haunt his dreams and the souls that claw at his throat all for the sake of Halcyon?

c. Bathe me in holy water and erase my sins. Killing his own brother is something that Hugo has yet to forgive himself for. The memory of his parents on the floor, the gun in his hand, the sounds coming from his mouth after he pulled the trigger play on repeat in his mind daily. How does he deal with the constant onslaught of this? Does he find himself crying in the confessional over what he’s done or does he simply let the memory play out and avoid thinking about it? It’d also be interesting if another character knew what he did and used it as leverage over him.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | As long as he gets to marry Brat first, feel free to kill him. That can be the first and last thing I do with him, please just let him marry them.

IN DEPTH

In-Character Interview:

What is your favorite place in Verona? | We recommend looking at the location page and reading it over to figure out where your character’s favorite place is – if it’s not their own house/room.

He’s positive that the woman across from him expects to hear the Cathedral. But, the stained glass and golden pews have long since turned sour to Hugo. Now, they remind him of blood and guns and the rush of guilt that burns in his throat like bile. He thinks of the theater, how he and Albert used to hide underneath the seats to sneak into a second showing. The library, once a place that he was able to roam without hesitation and devour any book he desired, now stings in his memory since it became off-limits. Finally, the corners of his lips quirk up. “Twelfth Night Museum holds a dear place in my heart. I can’t say much about the attendees who show up at night, but during the day it’s beautiful.”

What does your typical day look like?

Hugo pauses for a moment, mulling over the words before he speaks. He glances at the watch on his wrist, then his shoes, and finally meets the eye of the interviewer. The interview is for a profile on him, a puff piece to lighten the city when all it knows is death and destruction. “Well, it’s Saturday. I host evening mass then head over to Phoenix and Turtle for the bread donation. My days are typically the same, depending on whether or not the farmers market is here.” He graces her with another smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. What he leaves out is that his nights are filled with the scent of gun powder and his fingers brushing eyelids shut, a prayer whispered under his breath.

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

How was he supposed to pick just one mistake? There had been plenty of missteps through the years that would certainly be labeled the worst. The stolen liquor from the bodega, the moans in the backseat of a car, the night he killed Albert. Far too many things have been deemed his biggest mistake. “Even I’m allowed to have secrets.” Hugo glances out the window and watches the couples walk by. They’ll have to try harder than this to get him to reveal what it is. “That one is between me and myself.”

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

His gut reaction is to say preaching his sermon. The words of the good book that fall from his lips and into the ears of the parish are nothing but lies - but now was not the time nor place to discuss that matter. “There are times I’m asked to stop helping those in need. I have to respect their wishes, but it’s not in my nature to walk away from those who need help.” He thinks of the dying who were left to bleed after he shot at them, of the unfortunate souls who end up injured by falling into debt with them, of the addicts who pump their veins with Theo’s latest experiment and can’t escape the warmth the drug gives them. Ignoring these souls only to have them haunt him later is the most difficult thing he’s done.

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

He nearly chokes as he takes a sip from the mug. As the interview continued, it seemed as if the questions were diving deeper and deeper into unsafe territory. Perhaps it would’ve been smart to let one of the emissaries approve the list of questions before he arrived. “As a man of God, I can only hope that no more bloodshed happens.” His lips press into a thin line. “Hasn’t our city seen enough?” His answer is honest, one that he never dared utter before now. The war his boss wages against the Montagues is one that he finds despicable. So much has been lost in the names of each family and yet, they continue to take more and more and more.

Extras: Bold of you to assume I don’t have any extras. Here is his mockblog, a Pinterest board, and as always, let me sprinkle some hcs here:

Hugo’s very into the arts. His favorite artist is M.C. Escher.

This man is not straight. Local disaster bi preacher is at your service.

There’s a photo of his parents tucked into his wallet so he’s able to carry them everywhere.

He does yoga whenever he gets the chance.

Hugo’s a huge Jimmy Buffet fan, I’m sorry but it’s true.

He’s also a huge Florence and The Machine fan so it balances out.

More often than not, there’s a bottle of cheap scotch in his chambers in the Cathedral. It’s hidden inside of a hollowed-out Bible.

#accepted #accepted: helenus

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loruleanheart · 5 years

Text

The Legend of Hilda, Chapter 30

Rated M

Paring: Yugilda

The Captain looked over his knights in the training yard as they sparred amongst themselves. Morale was higher than the captain had ever envisioned for his men. They all seemed to be preparing for a great battle - and he knew why. From where he stood he could see Ravio and the Princess in the courtyard. Neither of them was smiling, but seemed to be conversing earnestly as Ravio tossed grains to Yuga's prized peacocks; that had gone neglected since his disappearance. The Captain gave a bittersweet smile.

oOo

"I'm glad to see that more and more knights are returning every day. I believe we'll be well prepared should Yuga show himself… Which I fear may come to pass very soon…"

Ravio turned to her, looking apprehensive. "What makes you say that?" Ravio shifted his gaze back to Sheerow who had joined the peacocks, fighting for bits of grain among the larger birds.

Hilda grimaced. "I feel as though I sleep fitfully with harrowing visions I can not recall when I awake." She felt like she was losing her mind. She dared not tell him how she'd found herself in Yuga's chambers among his bedding smelling of incense and her perfume. She'd torn at the sheets and sobbed before swearing to seal his chambers or better yet have everything inside destroyed, although she hadn't quite got around to it yet.

One of the peacocks caught her eye. It moved towards the fountain to dip it's beak in for a drink. Something in Hilda shifted, a memory threatening to resurface. Her expression relaxed, becoming dreamy.

"Were they about Yuga?" Ravio asked, drawing her attention back to him.

For a moment she felt light. Hilda looked at Ravio with nervous intrigue, almost smiling.

"Your Highness… Please don't think me strange for asking, but… what made you go to Yuga's chambers last night to sleep?"

Hilda became visibly flustered, grasping to respond, and then her expression transformed into a look of hate. "I can feel him drawing me in," she said tightly. It was the only conclusion she could reach. Of course, this must be Yuga using some sort of enchantment to sway her trust back to his favor, or perhaps, just to torment her.

Her eyes focused on the bulky gold bracelet on his wrist, which didn't go unnoticed by the young man. He slipped it off over his hand and handed it to her.

"Here, perhaps you'd like to hold onto this," he offered, with a smile.

Hilda hesitated. "But what about you? You are the hero destined to fight the demon king incarnate."

"I'm not afraid…. Not anymore. But I pray it will help assuage any doubts you may be feeling right now and help you regain your hope."

Hilda gave him a confused look, but relented, finally accepting the bracelet. "Thank you, Hero of Lorule." She placed it on her own wrist in an almost self-conscious manner. "You know… It is said he created this bracelet in his first mortal life. I don't exactly feel right wearing it, but knowing it's a gift from you gives me some peace."

Ravio smiled at her warmly. "I can't think of a better reason."

"And know this Ravio... When Yuga shows his painted face in my presence I won't just stand by idly as you meet him in battle. I will do my part as well."

oOo

Yuga moved the ore through murky waters; no easy task on account of the thick, gnarled trees that grew from deep under the water's surface. There wasn't much sunlight able to penetrate their canopy. One could scarcely tell it was nearly noon and not daybreak or dusk. He looked to Fayre who appeared contemplative.

He could no longer hold back questions that had been nagging at him since they'd set off. "Why did you tell me to take this route? Why won't you use your magic to return me to the castle as you brought me to Misery Mire? The matriarchs will surely target Her Grace. They could be at Lorule castle as we speak!"

Fayre's shoulders slumped and she dropped her gaze." I know, Yuga… I'm sorry. I do not have the strength…."

Yuga held back a heavy sigh. Koume's attack must have broken Fayre's spirit and sapped her power. Although she'd been in high spirits when they left, it appeared now as though it was finally sinking in what had transpired.

"So…. What are you going to do? About the princess. You know you won't be able to reverse what has been done." Fayre said, repeating what she'd revealed earlier. Yuga feared that this would soon become the sad refrain of everything Fayre would say from then on.

"Well first, I pray to the goddesses that bunny brat bastard didn't rent out Her Grace in my absence."

Fayre silently regarded him for a long moment, clearly taken aback, but not knowing how to respond. "So... You mean to say you don't have a plan?"

"Precisely…. For once…" Yuga went silent. He looked out over the swamp. "Although I do have a theory… I believe it was their brainwashing which led to Hilda's Triforce of Hope vanishing. That makes her useless to them. I can't imagine how enraged the twins must be…This doesn't bode well. I admit I am… concerned about what the twins will do now." Yuga clenched his jaw, turning his face from Fayre.

I couldn't even mislead two crazy old hags to believe I was committed to their cause. I have unwittingly doomed Hilda.

If only Fayre had been forthright from the beginning, perhaps he could have been better prepared.

"What about the boy? He's a knight and the hero. Surely he will defend the princess if the twins come for her." Fayre offered, hopeful.

Yuga clenched his fist. He was formulating a withering insult against the young merchant when something jostled the canoe violently. Something big.

Fayre gasped and grabbed on the edges of the canoe on either side of her. "The twins! Their servants come in many forms! They infest every corner of Lorule. Always watching. They are the matriarch's hands."

Yuga quickly materialized his staff and stood up, preparing to fight whatever it was, a wild octorok perhaps.

He peered over the edge to see a faint shadow passing under the canoe. He opened his mouth to direct Fayre to take the ores, but before he could, the unknown creature slammed into the canoe once more, this time with a force that was tenfold. They were thrown into the air and the last thing Yuga saw was the water's murky surface rushing toward him.

oOo

The sensation of moss under his fingers and the sound of birds chirping roused him. Yuga lifted his head to see an imposing statue of the goddess, Lorelle. Not a very flattering depiction of her, Yuga thought, still in a haze.

He realized he was still underwater from the waist down and recalling the shape of the creature he'd seen passing under the canoe, he scrambled out of the murk, coughing to rid himself of the taste of swamp water.

Whatever it was, it had been no mere octorok, Yuga thought. Worse, his staff was missing. He was certain he'd been holding it just before he fell into the swamp. He gave an aggravated huff. There was no way he'd find it out there, probably tangled up at the deepest most remote point of the mire with leeches, snapping turtles, and goddess knows what else. No one would ever find it. Maybe Hilda was just as lost to him. Just as Fayre said.

He looked around, seeing her nowhere.

Mother….

"Fayre!" He shouted into the swamp. The birds got spooked and flew away. And then silence….

"Where are you? You vowed you'd help me fix what you did to Hilda!" Yuga unleashed a primal scream; his frustration, rage, and despair manifest.

Hilda turning against him... Fayre's unknown but probable horrific fate... His prized staff at the bottom of the swamp…Everything had gone so fantastically awry… Perhaps even the goddess herself, watching from the edges of time, was corrupted just like her mortal incarnation.

He wasn't sure how long he was there, sitting in silence, but at last, he stood and passed the spring with the goddess statue. The water within appeared much too clean to be in the middle of a swamp as if purified by Lorelle herself. Lily pads floated on the surface. A small oasis in that miserable swamp. He could almost picture Hilda rising out of the waters in her pure white dress and smiling at him as she had so many thousands of years ago when he'd led her to the springs to reawaken the soul of the goddess within.

He turned away knowing he had no time to waste. Hilda was very well in harm's way. He divined the direction of the castle and made his way out of the swamp.

oOo

He cut through town, thankful to be in an area he was somewhat familiar with. He wasn't that far from Lorule castle now. His clothes and hair had dried, although he was sure he still smelled of the Mire; like the late queen used to say. The taste of swamp water lingered in his mouth.

He soon neared the milk bar; A place he'd heard much about, but had never imagined he'd be so tempted to enter because of intense thirst. If there was any former castle staff present, he just didn't care.

Stepping inside, the few bar patrons turned to look, but none of them gave the impression they knew who he was, but taking in his tunic bearing the crest of the royal family they seemed curious, or perhaps even put off. After a beat, they returned to their conversations.

A young woman with a pleasant face came to greet him. She wore a long skirt with an apron over it. Over her linen blouse, she wore a scarf that was held together with a strange broach. "Hi there. You're looking quite parched, Sir. What can I get for you? Name's Airalon." She was studying him, perhaps trying to figure out who he was.

Yuga gave a small curse. "Of course, I don't have any rupees when I need them most!" Yuga realized aloud, turning to excuse himself.

"Think nothing of it. I'll get you some water." Airalon said, reassuringly.

Yuga was speechless, not expecting such kindness from the average Lorulean. Surely, she'd treat him poorly if she knew who he was.

"Airalon. Don't give that liar anything without pay! He clearly serves the royal family." The skinny mustached man behind the bar huffed.

"Oh hush, Uncle Ingo. You never know who might become a steady customer if you'd just show some human decency."

Ingo grumbled, and Airalon went behind the bar to fetch the water herself.

In any other circumstance Yuga would loudly proclaim his connection to Her Grace and mock the bar owner's sloppy appearance, but instead, Yuga remained silent. As he waited he took in the bar's atmosphere. Towards the back of the bar was the biggest bird Yuga had ever seen; seven or eight feet tall perhaps, sitting on a stool and playing an accordion. The bird musician started to sing.

"Hero of Lorule, the hero of Reason.

Came to warn the turbulent princess of her advisor's treason.

He perceived the leech came to pervert the hopes of the goddess, Lorelle reborn.

And couldn't bear to see her forlorn.

For how could the golden three ever gift a leech the golden power of Beauty?

That man's intentions were not pure, knew we.

And by the hero's words, the Princess's eyes were opened.

Now that Reason guides Hope, a new era of prosperity for this land can be woven."

Yuga felt a dark shadow descend upon him. He rolled up his sleeves and swiftly made his way to the back of the bar without anyone noticing, not even the Rito minstrel who was so wrapped up in his song.

But then everyone in the bar snapped to attention when they heard the accordion come to an abrupt and shrill, off-key wail. Yuga jerked back his curled fist and released a swift punch to the oversized bird's beak. The Rito fell to the floor, looking at his attacker aghast. Yuga took several shallow breaths before picking up the fallen accordion and tossing it over his shoulder, causing it to give another short burst of a compressing tune, and then he continued his assault on the bird musician. Some of the patrons started to cheer while others shouted for help.

After a few tense moments and a simultaneously horrified and entertained onlooking crowd, Yuga stepped back. He covertly wiped the moisture from his eyes and sniffed.

"Who… Who are you?" The Rito managed, shaken.

"The leech." Yuga huffed. He took a few steps back and noticed the entire bar was staring at him. He took in their expressions. Some looked at him with contempt, others with awe.

"I hate birds…." Yuga said simply.

"Yeah, I don't trust anything that shits all over the place while it's in the air either!" A man with a bag over his head chimed in.

Yuga looked over his shoulder slowly, giving the strange man with his odd outburst a pitying look, wrinkling his nose. But it was no use, as the man with the bag on his head wasn't even looking in his direction, probably too drunk to notice or care.

"What in the name of Lorule is this commotion?" A knight came strolling into the bar, and upon seeing Yuga and the scene before him, his expression completely changed. He called for more knights just outside and drew his sword coming towards Yuga.

"Hold it!" Another knight called. "Are you forgetting what he did before?"

"No, look! He is powerless without his staff, and he can't fight all of us. We'll take him back to the castle. Let Her Highness decide his fate. Finally, she has come around. It only took everyone walking out on her."

Yuga didn't resist, smiling inside. Fools. This is exactly what I need.

In seconds the knights descended upon him.

"Wipe that smirk off your face!" Said one of the knights as he delivered a swift knee to Yuga's ribs, causing the sorcerer to cry out and double over in pain. And with that, he was forcefully led out.

"Her Highness will be pleased." One of the knights scoffed.

"Not as pleased as me." Said another. "But oh Goddesses... He stinks."

oOo

Fayre stirred at the sound of muffled footsteps. She breathed in the mossy scent of the deep swamp and sensed a shadowy figure hovering over her. Praying to the goddesses it was Yuga, she opened her eyes, only to be severely disappointed.

It was an older looking man with greying hair and an unkempt beard. He squinted at Fayre, as if not believing his eyes or perhaps appraising her.

Fayre's heart jumped into her throat. Where was Yuga? She stood up fast, which she instantly regretted as the ground beneath her was now spinning. She started to scream Yuga's name into the swamp. She didn't care if she looked like a complete lunatic to the man studying her.

He didn't drown or get eaten, Fayre repeated to herself again and again. The creature that attacked us was surely some vile servant of the twins. They sent it out to capture him, not to kill him…. I'm alive, so he has to be alive, too….

"Fayre…." the man behind her said, sending a chill through her. "Still searching for your son in vain after all these years?" The man laughed.

Fayre turned slowly, recognizing the man's voice, although it had a gruff intonation to it now. His lustrous orange hair she'd once admired had dulled and turned grey with age. No wonder she hadn't recognized him.

"Killian," She spat. "What are you doing here?"

"I was searching for the fabled spring of the goddess. Thought I'd try to salvage something to sell at a high price in town. But instead, I find you…. You're still as beautiful as back then." He said as his eyes moved over her. "And that staff…It looks quite valuable."

Fayre followed Killian's gaze to see Yuga's staff lying not far from where she'd washed up. She huffed, grabbing up the staff in an instant.

"That son of yours wasn't worth very much. Little old ladies don't have a lot of money to give for apprentices, but you on the other hand… You could make me a lot of rupees…" He said, leering.

"I'm not interested!"

"I wasn't offering you a business opportunity."

A simultaneous look of fear and disgust crossed Fayre's features. She held out the staff and without wasting a moment gave it a swing as she'd seen Yuga do in visions, but nothing happened.

"No… no…"

Killian laughed at her. "What are you trying to do?" He came at her quickly, ripping the staff out of her grip.

"I won't let you take that! It belongs to the royal family." She said, grabbing for the staff, but Killian held his grip on it.

"An heirloom of the royal family, you say? I really can't miss the opportunity to turn a profit off it then."

"The princess herself gifted Yuga that staff. There's nothing you could do to me. I'd sooner die than let you take it!"

"Die? Oh, certainly not! Not when you're going to make me a fortune." He lifted her into his arms before Fayre could protest and held her mock bridal style. "I'm not sure what will be worth more… You or that staff…." He said gleefully, spinning around as he held her. Fayre struggled but found she couldn't get out of his grip. She was weak, yet she resolved to protect the staff no matter the cost. She glared up at Killian, beginning to grow dizzy. He was beginning to hum in a giddy way and she was reeling with hate, but they somehow managed to see her at the same time... The statuesque woman stepping out from behind a tree and setting her sights on them.

Twinrova.

Killian dropped Fayre in fear, knocking the breath from the white-haired sorceress as she hit the ground. Fayre, seeing the flash of bloodlust in Twinrova's gaze, gasped and used what little strength she had to dive out of the way as Killian was turned to ice.

#Princess Hilda #Yuga #Yugilda #a link between worlds #albw #Ravio #Twinrova

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alliswell21 · 6 years

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The Christmas Box (part 3)

A few weeks later, Mrs. Mags, Peeta’s Sunday school teacher, apologized to him for not having found the picture that came with the letter. She told him that she did find out there was a video of the children opening the boxes one of the missionaries in Manila made. She warned him, he may not be able to tell anyway who got his box, but it was something. They were going to play the video during Wednesday night service, when the missionaries were set to speak at church.

Wednesday came at snail pace, and he almost missed church because he was so tired. He had shoveled off snow from the sidewalk in front of the bakery that morning, since it was an unseasonably late snow fall they had no salt for the concrete, then, he had to wash some pans, which made him late for school in turn missing a test, which landed him in a heap of trouble with Mr. Heavensbee, the history teacher.

After groveling with his charm dialed up to the maximum, Mr. Heavensbee acquiesced to let him take the test after school and before wrestling practice, this had a domino effect on the rest of his day. He got late to practice as well. He had to run laps for what felt like an eternity as punishment. By the time he got home, his missed supper. His whole body was sore and his legs felt like jello, but he manned up, and marched on, on foot, to church. He was really very curious about the Pinay girl who wrote to him.

He had learned the term Pinay from a book in the library, it referred to a female person from the Philippines. That’s where Katniss Everdeen was from, an island far away in Asia, some where out in the Pacific Ocean. He learned that being so closed to the equator, the island was prone to hurricanes and earthquakes. That at some point in history, the USA had control over it, but they finally recognized it as its own nation, and to add greatness to them, the Philippines became one of the first founders of the United Nations.

Philippines sounded like a pretty awesome place, and he figured he’d learn more about it at church, from the missionaries that had been working there the past year.

When time came to see the movie, he was disappointed the segment on Christmas boxes only lasted a whooping 2 minute long montage, out of the whole 18 minute video of the whole year.

The footage was so fast he couldn’t tell if there were any characteristics that would pinpoint at his own box. He watched with the utmost interest the rest of the video, and listen closely to the anecdotes and testimonies of the group of missionaries, consisting of a family -mom, dad and two teenaged daughters- because that was the polite thing to do.

At times, they would pause the images to explain something, or to share a back story for what they we’re watching, it was mostly interesting, but Peeta was tired, and his eyes started to droop.

Suddenly, a young voice crooned Amazing Grace through the speakers, wiping away all of Peeta’s fatigue.

It was the most wonderful thing! A little girl, who couldn’t be older than 10, judging by how skinny and short she was, sang with all the feelings of her soul.

She had a heart shaped face, with the darkest, shiniest hair he’d ever seen gathered at each side of her head in twin braids, a series of stills took over the video, but her voice still sang as backdrop. Pictures of a children’s assembly where the singer girl lifted her hand above the crowd, the next picture showed somebody picking her up and placing her on a stool in front of the congregation, the stills pictures faded back to the movie. The girl’s red checkered dress looked a little ill fitted on her tiny frame, but Peeta thought the color suited her olive skin just right.

He was mesmerized with the girl’s talent, but it was more than her musical prowess, it was her bravery, her passion as she sang... her voice! And when he thought nothing would ever top the way she captivated him with her voice, the camera closed up on her face. His heart stopped for just a second, then beated so hard and fast, he had to place his hand on his chest to make sure it wasn’t about to break free and crash against the canvas the movie was being projected into.

It was just a clip of it though, only long enough to see the unique shade of gray her eyes were... not quite blue, but toeing the line. The song lasted to the end of the first stanza, but he was completely fascinated with the girl and her sweet, clear voice. The little girl exuded confidence, something he had just started to dabble on since joining the wrestling team at school.

When the service was over, the pastor said that everyone was welcome to come speak to the missionaries for a bit. They were scheduled to go back to the Philippines in a month or so, but that was their only night at that particular church, they were visiting all the churches that had had a hand in supporting their ministry abroad.

Peeta stood at the back of a short queue, and waited patiently for his turn, trying to ignore the heaviness of his limbs. In the few seconds in which the girl sang, he had completely forgotten about his exhaustion, the lingering sadness of losing Granny, and the frustration with his mother’s unkind words to him as he was leaving to church that afternoon.

She had mocked him for getting in trouble at school for being late all day, asking him if he knew how to tell time on that fancy hand watch he’d gotten for Christmas, or if he should go back to his kiddie Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles one that was up in his bedroom, without batteries. The worst part of all, was it had been her, the one who made him late, by demanding he cleared the bakery’s sink before going to school. He had done it without protest knowing full well he was overstaying.

He was so lost in his dark cloud of unhappy thoughts, that he got startled when the young lady in front of him cleared her throat loudly to get his attention.

He looked up, realizing he now was first in line.

“Hi! I’m Peeta Mellark. Nice to meet you ma’am.” He shook the teen’s hand enthusiastically, the girl smiled.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Bonnie, that’s my sister Twill. Mom and Dad,” she pointed at each of her relatives and then smiled at him.

“Yeah, I remember the pastor said y’all were related, earlier.” He smiled. “So… h-how do you like Manila? I’ve been reading on it.” He didn’t mention he sent one of the boxes, because the Bible said not to brag about that kind of stuff, his grandmother made sure he knew that.

They spoke for a while about Manila and the Philippines. Then he asked other mundane questions about weather and food and the such. He saw more people had come to queued behind him, so he inhaled a long breath, hoping to pick up some bravery from the oxygen filling his lungs, and asked his question, “So, that girl that sang Amazing Grace, was she a regular? Do you remember her name?”

Bonnie smiled widely. “Why, yes! That’s little miss Mockingjay.” She beamed, “She and her baby sister were regulars. Sweetest girls ever.”

”Mocking... what?” He asked furrowing his brow. He was confused.

“Oh!” Bonnie laughed. “Mockingjay,” she repeated slowly, enunciating each syllable. “It’s a nickname we made up for her. Her real name was Catnip or something like that.”

”Gotcha,” he responded somewhat relieved there was a reason he couldn’t place the name in any recognizable language.

“Yeah, little lady could sing sweeter than a mockingbird, but was as feisty and protective of her sister as a mother Jay.”

“I see. Well, she sang beautifully. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone sing like that before.”

Bonnie smile at him, and he felt his cheeks burn up with embarrassment, that he couldn’t quite explain.

“Thank you for your time, miss Bonnie. I really enjoyed watching y’all’s video.”

“I’m glad! Hope the Lord will lead you to pray for all the people we serve in the Philippines.”

“For sure.” Peeta smiled, his heart a little fuller and less sad, now that the little girl had a name and some personal traits to go with.

That night, while brushing his teeth before bed, the thought came to him like lightning in a storm. “Maaaaan!” He cried out, spitting toothpaste all over the mirror. “I’m an idiot!” He shook his head at his reflection. Penetrating blue eyes under frowning dark blonde brows, staring at him reproachfully. “I could’ve had written a note for Katniss and another one for Mockingjay, and given them to miss Bonnie to bring back to Manila.” He exhale a disappointed sigh. “I’ll never get another chance.”

He finished washing up, turned off the light and shuffle to the bedroom he shared with his middle brother, “Stupid. I’m the biggest idiot ever!” He said to himself under his breath, and pulled the covers over himself.

”Been saying that for ages, Peet. Now shut up and go to bed, we have school tomorrow.” Called his brother from under his own comforter.

Peeta just glared.

#winterinpanem #everlark fanfiction #christmas #to be continued

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randomlyritchie · 7 years

Text

Definition

Lately… I find that things are not effecting me in the way they once did. It’s a bit startling when this first starts to happen. I want to talk about this for a second. I truly believe that certain things can become a part of us through certain seasons of life. For example, anxiety or anger can become a part of you due to a crazy situation. If you go through the process of healing & cleaning, these things will start to fall off. It may be a slow process…but it is a process that happens when you continue to seek elevation in your soul. I used to be D E E P L Y depressed. It was really, really bad. I mean, I spent many years of my life not even wanting to live. I was in an immense amount of pain. Nevertheless, by the grace of God, I’m not in that place anymore. I do struggle with depression…I’ve come to accept that this is a real condition…but it doesn’t control my life anymore. I actually have no real desire to die anymore either…but it took YEARS for me to get to this point. Even writing these words makes me want to cry. I have come SO FAR as a person. I fought to live without even really knowing what I was fighting for. It has been a really hard journey…but I wouldn’t be me without it. Anyway, to complete the point I started with…is just to say to embrace the healthiness. It’s crazy to say…but when you are in dysfunctional cycles…the absence of them may seem weird. It’s kind of like a diet. Not eating your junk food may make you feel like you don’t know what to do with yourself in the beginning. Health brings a lightness that might be unusual at first. I can remember watching Oprah’s Lifeclass & her saying it is okay not to be loyal to the dysfunction. That is something that has always stuck with me. Filling up on the “junk food” of life may be less bland at times…but it’s bad for you in the long run. It’s never too late to change. Maybe you were brought up on a lot of “junk food” (literally & figuratively) as a child…but as an adult you truly can choose a healthier way. It can be a really hard journey…and you may falter at times. However, if you stay committed…I know you can win. Anyway…I kind of want to talk about definition a little bit. I feel like for the past decade I’ve been going through a stripping of sorts. At first…I felt as though God had taken everything away from me. This was a HUGE part of my depression. I truly could not understand why I was alive. I felt so betrayed by God. I mean, I literally felt like everything was GONE. I’m gonna be honest, some things still are so very lost. Nevertheless, I’ve learned that my existence on this earth is not defined by anything but God. I feel like we are born into this huge world that dictates who we should be. Within these worlds are our own personal worlds with even more demands. Then there is our soul that was ultimately what was given to us. I’ve come to realize that whether you are born rich or poor…there is still a lot of pressure to become all of these different things. I feel like being a girl who grew up with no money…I always felt like I wanted to live this sophisticated life. I didn’t have many positive male role models so I hated men (to an extent) & just wanted to be this independent woman. Every time I felt for a guy…I felt like I was betraying myself. I didn’t go around sabotaging relationships & such. It was just a feeling I had. Brokenness & having to be brave made me a tough chick. I used to never tell friends I loved them. I’d just be like: “you know”…that was my “I love you”. I was so set on being this big entity because I felt like it would somehow reconcile all of my pain. I mean, I always dreamed of being in the arts…but I just felt like being this rich independent woman (who still secretly fell for guys) was the thing. So…what happens when nothing happens? What happens when you STRUGGLE to get through college & you don’t get one single job? What happens when you don’t get to move to your dream city & start your dream life? What happens when you fall into a horrible depression & are a shell of yourself? What happens when broken relationships break even worse & eventually become nothing? What happens when you never get the guy no matter how cute, glamorous, sweet, not sweet, stand offish, not stand offish (and whatever else I’m supposed to be) you are? Praying for a husband does not always work like you think, ladies. I’ve been praying for that since I was in my 20’s & no I did not go around sabotaging all these relationships. It just truly did not happen for me. At some point I really did stop hating men (or fake hating them). I’m chalking it up to my weird personality. Idk… What happens when you don’t get to be a mom? What happens when it just doesn’t happen? What happens when everything feels like shattered glass & you are naked with the brokenness that you never quite succeeded in getting to cover? Exposed wounds hurt. Growing at what feels like the speed of a turtle hurts. Peeling back layers hurts. Fighting with God HURTS! Not getting to become a dysfunctional woman with dope threads, jobs, houses, & cars hurts. I didn’t willingly go on this journey. I was just trying to follow God. I thought being perfect would get me this “blessed” life. Well, this is where I ended up. Skeptics would pick my life apart & that REALLY used to bother me. What I know is that I have truly tried in every aspect of my life…in some ways to a fault. I’ve learned that following God will bring you to where you need to be. The truth is this: The woman I was seeking to become. The defense mechanisms I wanted to keep…well…THEY ARE NOT ME AT ALL! I’m a huge geek. I’m super kind. I’d do almost anything for the people I love…& even some I don’t like so much. I’m very generous & loving. Now, I am natural independent & tough. It’s just I am a bit healthier with it all now. I do really want to be in the arts & I am not opposed to money. I’d still like to become wealthy for something I’ve done. I’m just being honest. Nevertheless, since I like the little things in life, I don’t know where all of the fortune would go to. I do want to travel…so I figure my money could take me around the world. I guess my point is that by not being able to be defined by material possessions, statuses, & I guess even relationships…I’ve become this girl. I also have to say that I had to stop being defined by what the brokenness in my soul left behind. I had to stop letting sadness win. I had to stop letting anxiety win. I had to quit letting death win. I had to stop letting anger & bitterness win. I had to stop letting pity win. I had to stop letting this idea of perfection win. I had allow myself to be human…because for so long I never really did. I always knew who I was…even in the depressions…in the anger…in the panic…I knew that wasn’t the true essence of me. I never could accept being a girl with a broken wing. No. Not me. I had to stop being what big life & my life circles wanted me to be as well. So…when I see myself not being effected by things so much anymore…I know it is because I am living the true definition of me. I’m not trying to be something I’m not. I’m not trying to hide my pain behind things that won’t heal it. I’m not trying to be stronger than I am. I’m just trying to be me. I’m trying to accept life for what it is & not what I want to to be. The “stripping” was good because through it I found the courage to be vulnerable enough to be me. I feel like the more I live out of the true definition of myself…the stronger & more healed I become. Be encouraged if you are on what feels like a slow elevating journey. You are becoming who you need to be…minute by minute…day by day.

Love, Autumn

#WordsByAutumnMRitchie

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