#amazonluthor

It hurts. Not just the way that her body aches with the pain from the fall, but in her heart. There was a piece missing torn away from the depths of her soul. Her hands reach out and try to push herself up, only to shake and pathetically fall back into the crater she’d made on impact. Everything is on fire, burning, charred black with the painful heat. How had her questions deserve this sort of punishment? Had she not been one of the many chosen who had protected humanity since it’s conception without flaw? Without a dereliction of duty? Surely this was a mistake. But of course, there were mistakes made by the heavens and it would be her job to accept it without recourse. And yet... 

She places her hands back down and focuses. There is still power within her. One that is tainted like the rest of her heart, but it is still power. Astra pushed and the Earth responds by pushing her back up. Her wings snap out, flapping to steady herself, two steps taken to steady herself. What should she do now? Then the voices hit her. They are similar to prayers, but more desperate, more reckless. Of course. If she wasn’t allowed to save humanity, her job would be to damn them. Wings fold in, disappearing as Astra’s power surged with her heavy acceptance. The pain was still there, boring into her chest. But it would pass. Perhaps one day, it would pass. 

After days, weeks, months spent tracking every inconsequential lead that’d led the DEO’s alpha team to dead end after dead end, impasse after impasse, Alex had felt every iota of hope begin to leave her, the way nearly every last stitch of confidence that some arcane, unknowable trace of the elusive Cadmus’ whereabouts had.  As hopeless as she’d begun to feel, as unachievable as the mission had seemed after the last onslaught of raids she’d led on more than a dozen abandoned agrarian outposts, something in her gut, to say nothing of Winn’s intel, had told her they were close.  

Close, in the abstract, had so far been evidenced by abandoned vehicles still full of gas and open gates, flickering bulbs illuminating recently vacated hangars ---- the indistinct feeling that someone had just left.  

Now, it seemed tangible.  Someone was still here, within hearing distance, in defiance of the rumble of a motor running.  Alex could hear footsteps between the wide, measured pace of her own guarded strides, between tense, protracted breaths, through the echoing, repetitive drip of stagnant water plummeting from the roof above.  Someone was here, lurking just out of sight and shooting range, and come hell or high water, gunfire or hellfire, she wouldn’t let them slip through her fingers without a fight.

“ I know you’re in here, ” Alex barked, the steel in her voice sharper than the hammer of her glock biting into the arch of her thumb.  “ You’re surrounded.  Come out with your hands up.  Right now.  Or swear, I will light you up. ”

         Anne’s smile is a soft little thing upon her features, something so small and tender no other than Lillian could ever be allowed to see it. Her fingertip journeys slowly along her  beloved woman’s jaw, caressing her temple & pausing at last to tuck a shimmering strand of hair behind her ear. Yes --- she loves it too, their exquisite closeness, the gentle, warm, intimate fit of their bodies against one another’s curves and angles, much more so than language may express.

        She gives no attempt to voice the impossible. Instead, Anne presses closer without a word, sighing as her breasts nestle against the silken nakedness of Lillian’s bosom. Their legs are an inseparable tangle beneath the covers, their arms twined tightly together, their lips mere inches apart. Only Anne’s drawers, stubbornly in place as always, provides one last, thin barrier between them. And all of a sudden, with Lillian’s remark still fresh in her ears, that separation makes itself felt quite urgently. Anne’s tongue sneaks out to moisten her lips. An anxious breath grows within her, clogging her chest, quickening the rhythm of her heart. She mulls over her question for many a long moment, thinking it over various times before she dares raise it at last. 

        “ Does it bother you, ” she asks, her speech uncommonly quiet, swallowing thickly before she may continue, “ that I haven’t given you all of me? ” For all its delicacy, the question is a genuine expression of her mounting concern: she would sooner swallow her pride, however well-guarded, than cause distress to the one she loves most. Her breath stills, thumb stroking the corner of Lillian’s mouth. “ The way you’ve ... given yourself to me? ”

sitting at the vanity, staring at her own reflection, she decides it would be easy to fake sickness. but even if she did, he would still make her attend, what would it look like if the lady of the house wasn’t around? impossible. truthfully, she likes gatherings. she likes to be around people, have interesting conversations and just learn a bit more about the people around her. but these gatherings, only meant for pure-blood families, these gatherings are tiring. while she has perfectioned feigning interest, she feels sick upon hearing too many of their entitled ideas. how is blood supposed to make them better than anyone else?

arabelle sighs and gets up, turning her back towards her own reflection. it’ll be an enjoyable event, at least she is in her own home, her pride; it is enough to make her feel more comfortable. one of their house elves announces the arrival of the first few guests and she knows it’s time to move downstairs. abraxas won’t be happy if she’s too late. putting on her trademark smile - soft and kind but just not completely honest - she is already on her way. maybe it’s lucius and narcissa and she will have another moment of peace. but the moment she descends the first steps, she realizes it’s not them. disappointing, but her smile doesn’t falter. it would be absolutely impolite. 

the couple she sees at the end of the stairs is familiar; at least the young man is but she knows the womann by his side to be his new wife.    ❝ lionel! ❞    she greets him with enthusiasm, another thing she is well known for. once on the ground, she allows him to take her hand and kiss its back (like a gentleman should) and her smile begins to be more genuine.    ❝ it has been quite some time. i was so upset we could not make it to your wedding. but now i finally get to meet your wife, i see. ❞    blue eyes set on the young woman by his side and she cannot help but notice that she’s a lovely one, too. it reminds her of the first time she met narcissa, though this is quite something else. this is not her dauhter-in-law. kindly, arabelle offers her her hand.    ❝ it is my great pleasure to meet you, i am arabelle malfoy, the lady of the manor. ❞

       leslie knows what it’s like to be TALKED ABOUT. she’s been talked about her whole life. at first for good reasons, then bad, then somewhere in the middle. she knows those judgmental looks and whispers. she knows how isolating they can be. which is why she strides right up to the woman, flashes her a bright smile, and gestures to the chair across from her. ❝ do you mind if i sit ? you look like you could use some COMPANY, and i’ve found you notice the stares a bit less when you have someone to talk to... ❞

@amazonluthor​​ said: : 💬

Send 💬  for me to make you a starter with a random line of dialogue from this generator. --Accepting.

"--Lillian, I was born for damage control, stop worrying. And to model, obviously, given my cheek bones and impeccable complexion." Cat shoulders her phone, pushing open her office door and dropping her bag, "What did you do? This can't be worse than the time you almost became a Scientologist."