#;hope

[enflamedxtouch]

      the pieces had started  S H A T T E R I N G  from the moment she’d first entered the room her sister had been laid in: from the first mere moments that she’d begun to accept the reality of the situation, that she couldn’t come up with excuses or solutions because it had happened —  her twin was dead. She seemed to sink further once that fact sunk in like she could feel herself being dragged down to the lowest point she could be in and not even wanting to do a thing about it. The storm had begun and sailing a ship that was doomed seemed almost...POINTLESS. She’d been stood outside of the room so long after her interaction with Will, that she felt like she should’ve been able to breath: like she wasn’t stuck hyperventilating over the fact her sister was RIGHT THERE such a close distance away and she couldn’t even bring herself to look ( self-preservation but also out of fear ). She’d felt a fierce pain blistering inside that the only logical step, or barely logical at all, considering her feet had begun moving before she’d even had a chance to think ( she couldn’t think ). The feeling of being some cliche as she ended up in the bathroom, staring at herself with such intensity before every hateful thought she’d had about herself came out with a force: with the smash of a mirror, shards seeming to shatter across the floor and a certain level of audio distortion out of the sheer panic at that moment. She’d hardly screamed, tears seeming to flow within streams as her hands healed again and again with each punch against glass and wall until she almost wanted to tear herself apart. 

   she thinks there’s an irony to having repressed her magic so much, that maybe now it was buried as deep as the screams and the torment that seemed to sit in her head; all she could imagine was how much she was disappointing her sister. How much she just wanted to be able to do SOMETHING. And then she bellowed out another sob, a scream that seemed to pierce her own eardrums and yet a rumbling of sheer magical depths that left the other mirrors shattered across the floor without having even touched them. Perhaps it’s symbolic — she was as broken as they were.

@chosenlonely​

[littlemissxsierra-blog]

;; Sierra found Hope’s room with ease and considering this was a spontaneous visit, she hoped she was inside. With a gentle knock, she called Hope’s name and then began to doubt that she had got the right room even though she had checked a million times before coming.

❣ @hopeabrams  ❣

[ofetherealfaithx]

     A strange occurrence, typically at least people were easy to read and painfully obvious in their plights. So it was never out of R E A C H to know what a person was capable of, though he’d argue his only concern regarding the Angel’s that remained was whether or not they were under the strings of God. If those that still often felt like his brethren were but slaves to his games. It made sense, even if his next question didn’t (though making sense never quite fitted who the Angel was). “ Are you the vessel of an Angel? ” he wasn’t thinking about the connotation or the out of context way that could be received. Perhaps it was easy to hope that his expression was enough to gamble away any misleading thoughts. She seemed strong enough to be one. So perhaps it was a FAIR assumption.

 @chosenlonely​

[justmanettes]

{ @musical-hope }

manette was not calculative, but twenty years and french influences had taught her how to dress her body in a way that was utterly eye-catching. her red lace, almost translucent, slip cut off mid-thigh. displaying her sheer lace panties and every curve of her body. a simple block heel clacked against the edge of the barstool as she sipped a martini, and the leather jacket slipped off of her shoulders as she bet on six black and won. a flicker of joy as she turned to find hope, winking as she signed hello stranger.

[ofaxnoblefacade]

  It had become easy enough for the Original to dissociate himself entirely, even if by the mere mindset he’d been so caught in since his resurrection (the effects of which still laid heavy or at least the torture inflicted by his time alone while dead) but he implored a need to be himself once more...-as hard as being happy in such would be, perhaps it came at no great surprise that only Hayley truly managed to poke some hole in his attempt to remain miserable and it certainly seemed to be enough to push him to seek out his niece on his return. 

“I certainly hope this isn’t a bad time?” 

@chosenlonely

[enflamedxtouch]

    it’s something that’s always been  B R A N D I S H E D  to her core. something that she feels because that’s just the small details of what makes the Gemini twins so important — CONNECTED...if you will. It’s what she liked to push her co-dependency blame on because the past was a hollow graveyard of pain and turmoil, which only ever left her spiraling far from her own truth with a cocktail remedy of repression and if not for positive development in being healthier maybe she would’ve never accepted that within herself ( because she never needed to). The connection was something she found a better relationship with, now that she wasn’t burdened to carry the weight of EVERY variable choice her sister made it simply became a way to gage completely with where she was at; how happy she was, if she was carrying worries or if she was in pain. It became a way to feel on some extra sublevel of understanding, that empathy never quite covered and she was thankful...until she wasn’t. 

  She’d been making progress: forming steps to move into a healthier situation, which seemed to mean the only plausible options she had or certainly the one that most benefitted having time away from her dad ( to at least attempt to come up with a way of FORGIVING herself ) and Penelope because at an arms-length, she remained in pain and weak. She may be selfless to her core but the very brand she wears of depending on peoples sometimes leaves her tripping into old habits. She didn’t have that fear with Hope, if only by the grace that they had always offered one another a rather HONEST environment that Josie could certainly attest to not having in the other parts of her life. In the end, it was merely a gift to feel like she could settle in a place and breathe because she wasn’t sure she’d ever considered giving herself the chance otherwise...and then she finds herself stood still like she’s forgotten where she is and everything that’s going on around her and the tide has washed her away. She can recall that Hope is there but her mind seems to concentrate on the fact that she can feel something isn’t right — that Lizzie isn’t right. And then it’s a blistering pain, like something is almost being torn from her and like it would take her with it if it could. It makes her eyes hurt because they’ve begun to feel a pain she hasn’t accepted yet; she doesn’t know anything more, she doesn’t know what it is to feel something like this but she can only assume one thing and SHE DOESN’T WANT TO. 

  And it’s like she wants to be shaken out of it, to have believed she was feeling something else. Noticing someone else’s pain ( noticing her own ). And she can tell she’d grabbed onto something, that something was almost crushing in her hand and she felt some strong desire to break it and let it take the weight of all this for her because she’s terrified. She can tell the tears are rolling down her cheeks, that they’re flooding the room with a certain tension and she wants to scream. She wants to flood the room with something so loud the entire world listens because if this is what she believed it to be, she wasn’t sure she could handle it. she’s not sure the world can keep turning without her twin — THAT SHE can keep breathing without her twin. And then she falls, to her knees, she thinks. She lets it take her over and she’s frozen to one spot. In some ways, she almost hoped that Hope hadn’t been in the same room, that she wouldn’t have to do this or that she wouldn’t have to tell her anything. that she could bury herself so deep in this pain she felt, that the whole world would disappear. No, she wouldn’t want that and she wouldn’t want that for Hope. She needed to breathe, she needed to find her feet and she needed to let it out. She could hold her own party of guilt and shame in quieter moments, she’d break if she needed to; she knew Hope wouldn’t judge that. She was simply just terrified to tear her world down too. 

KNOWLEDGE WASN’T ALWAYS POWER, IT WAS A CURSE. 

@chosenlonely​

[enflamedxtouch]

   She’d cried and she’d SCREAMED, everything hurt and nothing made sense at all. For the first time since she pushed her emotions (and since the dream land of horror) she could feel it all not just a little..E V E R Y T H I N G. She’d been breaking since they all died and woke up, her dad had reached out and she’d been terrified..because it all made clear sense in her head that they’d all want to trap her in some prison world and throw away the key. Now all she wanted was to feel his arms around her, for him to be here telling her that it was all okay (spoiler alert...IT WASN’T). 

She knew it was fading, she’d been clinging on for dear life hoping she could avoid the pain that was now here but no one could run from FATE right? Inevitability masked the true karma of it all.Of course it hurt; everything she FEARED was here. She feared becoming Kai, now she was the perfect carbon copy and there was no escaping that. She’d locked herself in her own prison world. 

 Clinging to the bench she’d found a home on, some need to gather whatever strength she had left...though all she was happened to be WEAK. She’d heard the footsteps...though she wasn’t sure the other woman was trying to mask them, it’s what she deserved right. Face up to her actions. She wondered what she’d say, what Hope would offer than she didn’t already know. “It’s okay, even if I was still all Dark I couldn’t...-” she wouldn’t was what she meant, she could’ve tried it before on the day she’d tried to murder her twin and she hadn’t. “Say it...go on..” her voice was quiet, croaky and broken. Barely a whisper but loud enough to be heard. “You can tell me how awful I am; it’s not like it isn’t the truth.” 

@chosenlonely​