#miranda cleaves

[heathtrash]

i made some new ringtones recently!

there's just something so funny about 98 Mildred saying "EXTREME" so that had to be one!

i was rewatching raquel's doctor who episodes and the "singing campfire songs" line came up and it made me lose my mind. miranda cleaves pls

also almost every constance line is quotable but i thought this worked so well

they are all uploaded to the tww ringtones folder for android and iphone - feel free to listen and download any you like!

(when discord starts letting us have audio clips in voice chat, you can bet i'm going to put all these in our tww discord server!)

[hydr0phius]

Michelle Gomez, Clare Higgins, Raquel Cassidy, Kate Duchêne 🤝 Being on Doctor Who at some point in some way/also playing witch teachers in charge of chaotic witch children.

[ibrithir-was-here]

Bombinate

(jumping back to Daniel toddlerhood in the timeline here, just so we know were we’re at. When I’m done with this month I’ll make a timeline for all the drabbles, oh you can also find them on A03 now! It’s under “Endless Heirs AU”. Credit to @glassballdinosaurs for helping me by coming up with the first sentence for this one!)

Bombinate

The dark haired child stared out the window as rain clung to the panes before dribbling down the glass. They'd never seen rain before, their parent’s realm didn’t usually concern itself with anything outside of the tower of flesh and bone they called home.

The child thought they rather liked rain. Yes the crash of thunder and lightening around them was very loud and rather frightening, if they had been out in it they would probably have been terrified, but from the safety of the window well they were curled up in, there was something exciting, even beautiful about the cracks of blue and white fire that split the sky open every few seconds. 

And the crash of the thunder and bombinating drone of the rain helped drive out the sounds of  the…“discussion” echoing out from the Heart’s inner chambers.

They decided they didn’t like discussions.

But it didn’t seem like their parent and the tall dark entity they had introduced as “their dear uncle Dream”  were going to stop anytime soon. At least their parent seemed pleased by the tumult caused by their introduction. Things were always more pleasant for them when Desire was pleased.

***

Dream was beginning to wonder if perhaps Delirium had somehow infected Desire ages ago without anyone noticing, because this latest scheme of theirs-- whatever it was meant to lead to, and he was sure it wasn’t anything good-- must surely be nothing more than madness.

“You have sundered yourself” He hissed, “What in the realms could have possessed you to do such a thing?!”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic big brother” Desire said, rolling their golden eyes as they fell back into their customary lounge. “What, are you the only one allowed to experience the joys of child rearing?”

“You have had a child, and you never showed any interest in them outside of how they might fit into your machinations against myself”

But Desire only waved this away, “That’s all in the past, perhaps I wasn’t the most… attentive parent to dear…”

“Miranda” 

“--To dear Miranda, but I can assure you that my dearest own Desire will want for nothing, I adore them, with all my heart” They emphasized this last line with a giggle, gesturing to the red, throbbing chambers that surrounded them.

Dream’s gaze lingered towards the doorway through which  Desire's…fragment had escaped once Desire had shooed them away to “let the adults discuss things”. Dream found he could not truly call them Desire's child, because he very much doubted that Desire truly saw the young being in that way. From the little he had seen so far, his sibling treated and spoke to their smaller self as they would have a favored pet, which was to be alternatively indulged when it performed well, and likely brought to heel when it did not.  

He based this last assumption off of how surprisingly subdued the personified splinter of his sibling's self adoration appeared, showing none of their progenitor's sparkling vibrancy or easy grace. In truth, they appeared almost afraid of their own shadow. They were certainly afraid of Dreams'. They’d darted behind Desire’s legs the moment that Dream’s eyes fell on them and had only come out when Desire’s coaxing tone had gained a sharper edge.

“I ask again my sibling, why have you done this? Why cleave yourself and risk the stability of your realm?”

“Oh my realm is fine, nothing has changed. I only took the parts of myself that were cluttering things up, and now I have my own little heir to play with and pamper and parade about, just like you.”

Dream blinked, twice. “You… you did this out of jealousy of myself and Danie--”

“Jealousy??!” Desire uncurled from their lounge with the swiftness of a cobra rearing to strike, raising themself up to a height with Dream, golden eyes flashing with barely concealed fury.

 “I don’t have any reason to be jealous of you, Dream. Not a thing. Especially not this newest little façade of domesticity you’ve convinced yourself into thinking you won’t lose like you have every time before.”

Anyone else would have been unable to see the almost imperceptible shift in Dream, the barest stiffening of an already immovable seeming pillar of darkness. But Desire’s gaze was fine tuned to such things and they grinned as they knew their words had touched the sorest of spots in Dream’s heart.

“You go ahead and play house with your lover and your baby and the rest of them all you want, but you and I both know how this ends. It’s never enough, you’re never enough, that or you’re too much. Either way it ends the same. You, alone.”

Satisfied in their victory, Desire sunk down into a lounge once more, reveling in the sight of the silent Dream before them.

 “But you see, I’ve got nothing to worry about. My child is me, they’ll love what I love and want what I want and I’ll always be enough for them, they’ll adore me and they’ll never leave. So no, I’m not jealous of you at all, big brother, if anything, you should be jealous of me.”

Saying this Desire rolled over, turning their back to Dream and waving a hand as if shooing away a bothersome pet. “Now get out, I think I’ve seen enough of you for today, go play with your baby boy, while you can.”

They didn’t bother to turn around until they felt Dream’s presence withdraw from their realm, a final burst of thunder from outside heralding his departure. 

Desire giggled again.

“Dearest!” They called out, turning over to face the doorway their child had scampered through. “Come back in darling, that sad old man is gone now!”

The child’s dark head peaked out from the doorframe, golden eyes darting around the room as though trying to assure themself that Dream really had gone.

“Come here Darling, you did wonderfully!” Desire said, holding their arms out towards them. The child hesitated for a moment, before scampering across the floor and into their parents arms. Desire’s hold was tight, almost painfully so, but the child didn’t mind; well, not too much. They liked it when their parent held them and stroked their hair, they got so lonely when Desire didn’t have time for them.

“You’re happy?” They asked, looking up into their parents’ matching golden eyes, which were glittering with an almost manic glee. “I’m ecstatic, my dear, positively delighted. Oh we’re going to have so much fun, my little Desire.” 

And outside, the Threshold mirrored it’s creator’s grin, sharp enough to draw blood.

[anewnewcrest]

New Newcrest News - Winter 2, Part 2

Babies

Kayleigh and Nathan Bell's patience has finally been rewarded by the Watcher, and they have welcomed their first child, Levi Bell, into the world. Both parents are overjoyed and we're all so happy that there will be another generation of Bells at our church!

After a long struggle with secondary infertility, the Rogers family has welcomed their sixth child, their son Lucas Rogers, into the world! Despite his father Frank being in prison when he was born, the family was overjoyed to have another little one at home!

Slowing down their pace a little bit, the Payne family only welcomed daughter Eleanor during this season of life, but they are still overjoyed to have another little one at home!

Ever fruitful and multiplying, the Matthews family welcomed babies Madison and Miranda this winter!

Jobs & Promotions

After twenty-five faithful years of service to his company, Abner Miller has finally been promoted to Leaf-Cutter! Congratulations!

The first member of the Newcrest congregation to do so, Acton Miller has been accepted to the police academy! He is such an example to all the other boys growing up, and of course, doing such a dangerous, important job, all of our prayers are with him!

Michael Matthews is pursuing a career at a Watcherful corporation, and his hard work and dedication has paid off. He has been promoted to Assistant Manager and we couldn't be prouder of the Watcherful influence he is on his coworkers!

Birthdays

Kayleigh Bell is finally eighteen! Already married to Nathan Bell and a wonderful example of Watcherful wifehood, it was a privilege and joy to celebrate her birthday with the whole church, and hearing her sweet announcement!

The Millers' twins, Adair and Acacia, are toddlers now, rambunctious, full of energy, and of course, absolutely adorable! Congratulations!

Rose Miller has grown up to be a teen, and she's already such a pillar of support for her family! Dutiful, with a love for family and a meek and quiet spirit, she's just what a young lady who loves the Watcher ought to be!

After Candice Miller's recent birthday, she's left her years of having babies behind, and is now excited to focus on raising her remaining brood, and of course, excited to be a grandma to three, so far!

Acton Miller, the oldest son of the Miller family, is eighteen now! He has finished school - the only Miller child to go to a Watcher-following private school instead of being homeschooled - and is now embarking on a career and starting to look for the one lady the Watcher has in store for him!

Prematurely aged by his harrowing prison sentence, Frank Rogers is an elder now, and will need a lot of love from his wife and family to overcome his experiences.

So many birthdays in the Payne family! Mother Alyssa Payne had he 30th birthday, Jason is a teen now, Cordelia and Cecilia are children, and Nolan and Eleanor teens!

A lot of birthdays in the Matthews family, too! Father Michael Matthews is an adult now and advancing in his career, while twins Melanie and Melissa are children now, and twins Morgan and Mackenzie toddlers. Mark is a child too, and little Madison also toddles around, following her siblings!

Other News

Because we live in an unjust and fallen world, Frank Rogers was arrested for spreading the Word of the Watcher to unbelievers. Please pray for this persecuted warrior of the Watcher to stay strong during his prison sentence!

Prayer Requests

This young lady would do well to remember that she needs to respect her elders and is not the lady of the house after she married in. Not even on Simstagram. (Kayleigh Bell)

The Watcher says not to covet your neighbor's spouse, and this young lady needs to work on her contentment and overcome her issues with this particular sin. (Donna Bell)

Family is important, and while the Watcher says to leave and cleave, that doesn't mean you should forget about all the things you can do for your precious mama now that you've married into an important church family! (Kayleigh Bell)

Please pray for this lady who has not quite figured out yet that she doesn't have to be the center of attention at every gathering, the bride at every wedding, the corpse at every funeral. (Suzie Rogers)

A husband needs to protect his wife, but he also needs to control her. Please pray for this man whose wife is running roughshod over everyone at church. (Frank Rogers)

Ten children are a sizeable quiver even by our church's standards, and this mother would do well to focus on the little ones she has, instead of neglecting them in favor of praying for more arrows for her husband's quiver. (Candice Miller)

A daughter's place is at home until she gets married and starts having children of her own! That's what the Watcher wants, and this young lady would do well to pray for contentment and do her chores the way I say she should! (Lily Miller)

Everything can be made into an idol, even staying trim for the Watcher, and this lady should remember that pride is a sin and that her duties are more important than her appearance. (Candice Miller)

All children are blessings from the Watcher, and these parents need to treat all of their boys equally and curb their disturbing tendency towards favoritism. (Candice and Abner Miller)

There is frugality and living a Watcher-centered life, and there is neglect. Please pray that this family will be able to provide the bare necessities to their children. (The Rogerses)

CPS has no place in a Watcher-following church! The state should not tell us how to raise our children, and if there are concerns, they need to be addressed within the congregation, not broadcast to the entire world! (The Rogerses)

This father would do well to remember his responsibility to provide, instead of making his oldest son do all the work and reaping the benefits. (Jacob Payne)

This wife needs to practice contentment and learn that submitting to her husband is the best thing she can do for herself and her children, not entertain silly notions of leaving him. Please pray for her. (Martha Matthews)

Young men are supposed to be manly, and we need to start with our boys so we don't raise weak little sissies who can't lead a family. Please pray that this little boy will learn his proper place. (Bennett Payne)

Children are a gift from the watcher, a credit to their mothers, an arrow in their fathers' quiver. Please pray that this lady will understand and finally look forward to having another baby. (Martha Matthews)

While children are an important sign of the Watcher's favor on his servants down here, who has the most of them should not turn into a competition. These two men would do well to remember that. (Michael Matthews and Jacob Payne)

[gobboguy]

Chapter 42: A Mother Lost

Days later, Ionia awoke in the darkness, her body stiff from the cold stone floor beneath her. Beside her, Gramherth Rock sat cross-legged, lost in meditation. They had chosen to forego the comforts of furniture, opting instead for the spartan simplicity of a bare room, a gesture intended to demonstrate the austere lifestyle of the Swordmasters to Seraphina.

A chilling scream shattered the silence, its female pitch laden with terror and desperation. Ionia sprung to her feet, her hand instinctively reaching for the Relic Sword of Miranda, while Gramherth rose in unison. For days, they had scoured the corridors of Castle Berton in search of magic or any indication as to why the Spinner Glass had detected it on Brer, Lothor, and Seraphina. But to no avail, they had found nothing. Now, it seemed, to be that their failure had resulted in something horrible happening.

Without hesitation, Ionia and Gramherth rushed into the castle's labyrinthine hallways, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls as they raced towards the source of the scream. Dread grips Ionia as she realized the chilling sound originated from the direction of her mother's royal quarters.

Ionia's momentum carried her through the shattered remnants of the royal bedroom's doors with a flying kick, her heart hammering in her chest as she took in the scene before her. The room was cast in an eerie half-light, illuminated by the fading glow of the fireplace's dying embers. Ornate furnishings adorned the space, from intricately carved wooden bedposts to velvet draperies cascading from the tall windows.

Her gaze darted to the bed, where a figure lay prone, bathed in shadows. Seraphina's body lay motionless, a tableau of violence etched upon her form with each stab wound a testament to the brutality of the attack. Ionia's breath caught in her throat as she took in the grim sight, her mind struggling to comprehend the reality of her mother's impending demise.

Beside the bed stood a goblin, its loincloth stained with blood, a grotesque contrast to the opulence of the royal chamber. In its grasp gleamed a bloodied knife, poised menacingly over Brer Crestford, who cowered before the creature in a futile attempt at self-preservation. The air hung heavy with tension as the goblin's malevolent presence filled the room, its gaze fixed upon its trembling prey. Nearby, a darkened doorway yawned open, offering a glimpse into the abyss beyond, where the lurking forms of more goblins lurked, their sinister intentions shrouded in darkness.

The goblin, brandishing the bloodied knife, let out a guttural scream in its native tongue, its voice a discordant symphony of rage and triumph.

Gramherth, swift as a striking serpent, bypassed Ionia with a deft leap, his sword cleaving through the air and severing the goblin's head from its shoulders in a swift, precise motion. Wheeling around, he engaged the remaining goblins at the doorway, his blade dancing with deadly grace as he dispatched them one by one with calculated strikes. With each swing, the goblins fell, their lifeless bodies crumpling to the floor.

After ensuring the immediate threat was eliminated, Gramherth swiftly fashioned a makeshift torch from nearby furniture and fabric, illuminating the dark passage beyond. With determined steps, he ventured into the unknown depths, his figure disappearing into the shadows as he sought answers in the mysterious tunnel.

Meanwhile, Ionia, her heart heavy with grief, approached her fallen mother's side. Seraphina lay motionless on the bed, her once regal form now limp and lifeless. The room was filled with an eerie stillness, broken only by the flickering light of the dying embers in the fireplace, casting haunting shadows across Seraphina's pale, lifeless features.

Brer stuttered as he recounted how the wall had opened up into a secret corridor, unleashing a horde of goblins upon Seraphina. "I awoke just as the door creaked open," Brer recounted, "and before I could react, the goblins leaped forth from the shadows. One of them plunged its knife into Seraphina's back as she stirred from her slumber...they… they almost killed me," he admitted, his voice tense with urgency. Turning to Ionia, he implored her assistance, his eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation.

Tears streaming down her face, Ionia clasped her mother's bloodied hand tightly, her voice choked with emotion. "Please, Mother," she pleaded, her words trembling with anguish, "forgive me. Open your eyes, please. Don't leave me like this." Her heart heavy with sorrow, she awaited any sign of life from her mother, desperate for a glimmer of hope in the midst of tragedy.

Breathless from his exploration, Gramherth emerged from the tunnel, his voice echoing with urgency as he relayed his findings. "The tunnel leads outside to the castle walls," he explained, his tone grave. "This is likely how the greenskins infiltrated. They must have found a way into the city proper." His eyes narrowed with determination as he continued, "We must venture out and eradicate the source of this infestation before it spreads further."

Gramherth's gaze fell upon Ionia, his expression stern as he placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "Control your emotions, Ionia," he admonished, his voice tinged with disappointment. "As Swordmasters, we are not slaves to our feelings. You must learn to maintain composure, even in the face of tragedy." His words carried the weight of authority, urging her to embrace the discipline of their order.

Ionia's anger flared at Gramherth's apparent coldness, her voice sharp as she retorted, "How can you be so callous, Gramherth? My mother lies dead, and you speak of discipline?" Her frustration was palpable, her emotions raw in the wake of tragedy. Gramherth met her gaze with a steady intensity, his tone firm yet unwavering. "As a Swordmaster, you must uphold the principles of our order," he reminded her, his words carrying the weight of their training. "Now, more than ever, you must remember your training and act accordingly."

As Ionia's hand clenched into a fist, ready to lash out at Gramherth's stern reprimand, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted their tense exchange. Lothor burst into the room, his expression one of shock and disbelief as his gaze fell upon the lifeless form of Seraphina. Without a moment's hesitation, Gramherth issued swift commands to Lothor, his voice commanding and urgent. "Send out your guards immediately," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We must uncover where these goblins originated from before more lives are lost."

[strawp]

We read, “The Tempest”, in World Literature class and this was originally an assignment my teacher gave us.

We were to create our own alternate ending on what we think should have happened.

I spent a whole ass week on this bitch and poured my HEART and SOUL into it. It came out to ten pages in google docs. I’ll be damned if only my teacher sees this.

———————————————————————

Let’s Pluck the Petals, One by One

( Exit FERDINAND and MIRANDA )

Once my daughter and Ferdinand left to go inside the cell, I turned around to briskly put some distance between us. Once sure that no one was around nor would hear me, I quietly called out for my most diligent servant.

“Come with a thought, I thank thee, Ariel: Come,” I muttered. I waited patiently for the subtle change in the air, signifying Ariel’s presence. Not a moment later, a semi-transparent figure appeared before me.

“Thy thoughts I cleave to. What’s thy pleasure?” Ariel had said in their raspy voice.

“Spirit, we must prepare for Caliban’s entrance. Where is it that you said you left them?”

“I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking. I left them in the filthy mantled pool beyond your cell.” They answered. I had to strain my hearing to catch what they said. Air spirits like Ariel are known for their drifting voices, so subtle you’ll wonder if someone was actually there. But just like the wind, their voices can be thunderous and strike as sharp as a whip.

“Well done, my bird,” I whisper. With that, Ariel vanished or perhaps they are still there. I never know. But that matter’s naught for soon, my long-awaited revenge will be set into place.

“I will plague them all,” I promise. I gaze upon the seamless blue sky, only looking away when I hear the quiet shuffle of several feet. I cloak myself in invisibility and wait for what will undoubtedly be the stealth mission of three incompetent cows.

“Tread carefully, we’re in his territory now,” Caliban warns. All three are soaked to the bone and stink to the high heavens.

“Monster, everything smells like horse-piss. I smell like horse piss! My nose would like compensation.” One of the bumbling idiots remarked, face scrunched in great displeasure. He had short brown hair and walked with a slight hunch. His hands cycled through different fidgets, from twiddling his thumbs to swinging them. Other than his short stature, there was nothing to write home about.

“I second that. You hear me, Monster?” Nitwit number three added. This fellow was taller than the other twit with a bit of a gut hanging out, surely due to his relationship with alcohol. From what Ariel had told me, this one planned to kill me, take possession of this island, and marry my daughter. Hah!-What a ludicrous dream!

What he said seemed to have struck a chord in that deformed slave of mine’s head as they stopped entirely to look back at number three.

“My lord, please place trust in me. Be patient for the prize shall make this worth it,” Caliban practically begged. It seems they’ve found a new master. No matter, if all goes to plan I won’t need them anymore.

“Fine. But to lose our bottles in the pool–” started Short-stack.

“Is disgraceful and dishonorable, Monster. An infinite loss on our end” finished the alcoholic. Both crossed their arms and sported disgruntled expressions. To be so affected by the mere loss of a beverage is pathetic.

“Quiet!” Whisper-yelled Caliban. “We are at the mouth of his cell now: speak none and enter.”

I rolled my eyes. “Too little, too late,” I thought. This is the most pitiful assassination attempt I have ever seen.

“If we succeed, this island will be ours forever,” Caliban boldly claimed.

“This, ‘Prospero’, won’t know what hit him,” the drunkard smirked. Like anyone would ever feel threatened by that.

They only managed to take two steps each before Ariel and I intercepted them. Ariel sent ferocious winds their way, strong enough for them to stumble, while I manipulated the very ground they stood on into something unstable. While they were preoccupied with the elements, I directed some of the surrounding animals towards them. Once they spotted the army of animals coming their way, they scrambled, tripping over one another in their haste. They were utterly clueless as to what was happening.

“We shall let the animals hunt them for now. Soon my labors will come to an end and you will be free,” I inform Ariel. I turn to them, now opaque enough for me to see them. “Say, my spirit, what is the state of the king and his followers?”

“They are the same as you left them,”

“Go release them. I will break the charms and restore their senses,”

“I’ll go fetch them, sir”

With that, I turn around to begin the process of making the magic circle with my staff. I draw one large circle big enough to fit four grown men and add a liner that is three inches inside the circle. Next, I carved out an upside-down isosceles triangle with an eye in the center. Between the inner and outer circles, I scrawl out the necessary runes to cast my spell. Once done, I stand back to begin the chant.

“U have bedimm’d the noontide sun, call’d forth the miltinous winds, and ‘twixt the green sea. And the azured vault set roaring war by my so potent art. But this rough magic I here abjure, and, when I have required some heavenly music, which even now I do. To work mine end upon their senses that this airy charm is for, I’ll break my staff.”

Not a second later, Ariel reappears with my captives: Alonso, Gonzalo, Sebastian, and Antonio. They stand frozen in the magic circle, dazed and confused. Finally, the time has come. Still under invisibility, I stand before all of them and lock eyes with Gonzalo, even if he does not know that.

“Good Gonzalo, my true preserver, I will pay back with my word and deed.” He was the only one to show me compassion and aided me in my escape from the mainland. He is a better man than anyone on this island.

I move on with distaste to Alonso, a grimace set. “Most cruel of you to use me and my daughter; your brother even more foul in action.” This is the wretched man who officiated my exile from so long ago yet so clear in my mind. Never will I grace him the respect I once held for him.

For Alonso’s brother, I greet him with disdain and repulsion to what he has become. “Your existence has deteriorated since we last saw each other, Sebastian.” Arguably the worst of the two siblings. His life was set, having been born into royalty, but he greedily wanted more than what was handed to him.

Finally, I face my brother. Merely looking at him fills me with a spiral of emotions, circulating between resentment and betrayal. I pointedly ignore the bitterness that bubbles in my throat like acid. He has shown what he thinks of me and I have no obligation towards him.

“Brother of mine, through flesh and blood, you and Sebastian sought out to commit a dastardly plan for your benefit.” And with that, I finally reveal myself. Once spotting my face, Antonio and Alonso go pale in the face, though the former flinches back as well. Sebastian lets out a gasp while Gonzalo widens his eyes tenfold.

“I am not sure if I am under an enchantment or not but I fear madness has taken over me! The duke I had resigned all those years ago, Prospero, stands before me! How is it that you are alive and before us now?” Alonso exclaims. I raise one eyebrow at his reaction before turning to Gonzalo.

“Gonzalo, my noble friend, let me embrace you for the help you gave me. Your honor cannot be measured for there are no bounds to it.” Gonzalo’s eyes have since returned to their natural size and he gives me a tiny smile.

“Whether this is real or not, my actions are not worthy of such high praise.” He responds. Always the humble man I see, even after all this time. A stray thought of what if he was our king instead of our current one pops up before I push it aside. What has been done cannot be undone after all.

With a snap of my fingers, I send a message via magic to Antonio and Sebastian. “I know.” Just those two simple words had them stricken with terror, blood seemingly no longer circulating in their faces from how white they had gotten. “I can tell His Highness of your attempted treason at any given moment.” I sneer. It’s truly entertaining to see them sweat like pigs under my power. I end my message there, not merciful enough to give them closure of my decision.

“THE DEVIL! The Devil has come before us in the body of Prospero to haunt us for our sins!” Sebastion wails. I scoff and roll my eyes. As if The Devil would bother with the likes of them.

“I can assure you I am not such,” I say.

“How? How is it that you stand before us?” Alonso persists.

I finally turn to look at him, looking deep into his still-widened eyes. “My daughter and I have resided here for years, ever since that fateful day you cast me out.” I keep my face as neutral as possible as I respond, giving no inch of emotion. We lock into a staring contest until Alonso looks down, shame is written on his face, shame that I relish in before his eyebrows shoot up.

“Have you seen my son? Earlier, our boat was wrecked by a sea storm, and my son, Ferdinand, has been missing since! He has short brown hair, a little bit taller than myself, and was wearing a purple tunic.” He exclaims in desperation.

Bull’s eye. I tilt my head and look to the corner of my vision, caressing my chin in fake contemplation.

“I do believe so.”

“Is that true? This is a miracle-”

“But whoever said I will return him to you?”

Alonso stops in his tracks, taken aback.

“Pardon?” he says, not believing his ears.

“Whoever said I will return him to you?”

“But why? Why are you doing this? Have you no morals to keep a man’s son from his father!”

“Tell me why I should return the man who exiled me’s son?” I place my arms behind my back and go through a series of hand signals, telling Ariel to bring over Miranda and Ferdinand.

The hope from hearing my confirmation was just as quickly snuffed out, my response leaving him in a state of shock. I know Antonio and Sebastian would not dare speak so that only Gonzalo was left. I turned to look at him once more, daring him to say anything. Gonzalo’s eyebrows creased in deep thought, taking one more look at my face, and he must have found something because he backed down. Finally, I turn back to Alonso, ready to give him a piece of my mind.

“You aided Antonio in usurping my title. Not only did you unfairly strip me of my position but had also exiled me from my home. You cast not only I but my daughter out as well, who had nothing to do with anything except for sharing my blood.”

Alonso looked like he wanted to say something, but I did not give him the chance. No longer will I be silenced. I grab him by the collar and get close to his face.

“For twelve years, I have lived on this island. For twelve years, I have kept my daughter in the dark. FOR TWELVE YEARS, I have pondered on why you did what you did. SO WHY? WHY DID YOU BETRAY ME?” I screamed the last bit.

Yet, all he seems to be able to do is stare wide-eyed at me, as though a deer caught by surprise. He opens his mouth but only a weak strangled noise comes out. With that, I let go of him. He falls ungracefully on his arse with a face as pale as paper and sweat absolutely oozing off of him. It’s as though his brain has completely shut off.

What a pathetic excuse of a man, let alone a king.

I bring my attention back to the other three men. After seeing what I did to Alonso; Antonio and Sebastian both take steps back while Gonzalo looks on with an unreadable expression. Just then, Miranda and Ferdinand appear, hand-in-hand. Ferdinand, once spotting his father, hurries over to him and kneels down to cup his father’s face in his hands.

“Father? Why are you sitting on the ground?” He asks in concern. For now, I’ll stand to the side, no point intervening when they’ve already seen each other.

“Son…?” Alonso whispers, voice soft and unsure. “Are you really real?”

“Of course I am real! Did the tempest damage your head when you went under? Do you need medical attention?” Ferdinand worried. Alonso’s bottom lip trembled before he engulfed his son in a tight hug.

“Do not worry for your old man, I’m just so glad you’re alright! When I woke up and you were nowhere in sight, I looked for you for hours but couldn’t find you! I-I really thought you had died!” They sat there on the dirty floor, huddled together in a hug filled with tears and disgusting snot.

Wow. How sad.

Suddenly, this emotional(awkward) moment was broken when Ferdinand jumped back from Alonso’s arms, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. Interesting.

“Oh goodness! I nearly forgot!”

“What? What is it?” A severely dumbfounded Alonso asked.

Ferdinand hurried over to us and took Miranda’s hand, practically dragging her over to his father.

“Father, I have found my soulmate! my Juliet! my apple-of-my-eye, my sweetheart, my darling, my dearest, my snuggles, my treasure, my sweetie, my-”

“YES, YES! I understand! This is amazing, who is this young lady?”

“Her name is Miranda and she is the daughter of the Duke of Miland, Prospero,” He cheerfully announced.

The amount of time it took, or the lack of it, for Alonso’s face to drop from a proud smile to mortification was absolutely hilarious. I pride myself on my poker face but there was no way I could wipe off the laughter wiggling on my lips.

“Oh…that’s great, son,” He said in a perplexed tone.

“Our time together has been the utmost joyous! Her laugh is like church bells chiming, her smile as blinding as the sun. She is a worthy chess opponent with a beautiful mind. She’s sweeter than honey but as stubborn as a mule. Isn’t she just perfect?”

Alonso has sucked in his bottom lip and a tight smile graces his aged face but he nods his head yes anyways.

“It was love at first sight, I just knew we would get along! Father, I wish to marry this girl.”

And there we go. Alonso has receded into his neck, strained smile still present, eyes glassy with unshed tears, and still nodding away.

“I’m so glad you approve, Dad!”

Well, it’s only natural. There was no other choice, not with me sending him telepathically promises of death via eye contact. At this point, I couldn't care less if I was given a high position due to my daughter’s marriage. Just the thought that I will forever be a thorn in Alonso’s side brings me pure delight-

A knife comes flying at me from behind, grazing my cheek but otherwise, misses. Adrenaline courses through my body and I quickly turn around. I step to the side mere seconds before a hulking figure pounces where I once was.

It’s Caliban.

Rid of his trench cloak, his grotesque figure is bared for all to see. Along his spine protrudes spikes. Scales meld with his skin atop of his forearms and the sides of his neck. Sharp points junt out of his elbows. Fingertips end in sharp talons but no nails. His legs are bent like that of a dragon’s hind legs but instead of toes, he has three webbed claws. His body, defined yet gaunt at the same time, limbs too bony in places to be natural.

He stands from his pounce, coming to his full height of seven feet. He turns around and the first thing I see are his too-sharp teeth and prominent bottom fangs. Around his eyes are more scales and his once white sclera has glossed over with black. His hair, normally flat and greasy, is pricked up like a lion’s mane. He lets out a low growl and his face is pinched in rage, eyes piercing right into my soul. I feel a full body shiver and cold sweat slides down my face.

He lunges towards me once more with great speed, hand outstretched to no doubt maul my face. Were I less experienced, I would have surely died. But I’m not. Just as Caliban gets mere inches away from my face, chains emerge from the ground to restrain his arms and neck. He kicks out his foot in a last ditch attempt to wound me but I step just out of reach. With his mobility compromised, he is powerless.

“Caliban…what is the meaning of this?”

“By God’s blood will I have your head!” He snarls.

“A claw mark for each breath, a bite for every material you’ve used, a burn for every cruel command, and broken bones for every year you’ve occupied MY island!” He roared, fiercely pulling against the restraints.

“Tch,” With a snap of my fingers, I create a muzzle and fix it onto his face with magic. No way would I come close to him in this state.

“I care naught for your feelings but if you must know, I won’t be on this island for much longer,” I say. I slide my eyes over to Alonso and with quick steps, I take his hands into mine.

“Alonso, isn’t it joyous that out children have found love with one another?” I tell him with a sickly sweet smile. I raise a finger to my cheek, “This is Miranda’s first love, she has never before been so enraptured in another individual.” I remark.

I peer down at him, “Despite our conflict, I do not believe that our children should be weighed down by our differences.” I grit out. “Why don’t we call a truce so that our dearest children may be happy, mh?”

“I-” I send him my most venomous glare, daring him to rebuke.

“But of course! Anything for Ferdinand’s beloved!” He desperately shouts, looking close to tears.

“Wonderful that you agree. We shall set out tomorrow to go back to the mainland.” I conclude.

“Hold it right there!” Caliban bellows, having chewed right through the muzzle.

“I ain’t just gonna let you walk scott free! I ain’t done with you until you’re a bloody mess on the floor and six feet below!”

“What a pity, that won’t ever happen,” I sing-song.

“That ain’t for you to decide. I won’t rest until-”

I cast a simple sleep spell on him. He drops unconscious as quickly as a fly, the sound of his head hitting the ground resounds in spite of how empty it is.

This whole ordeal has dragged on for so long that the sun has begun to set, our golden ball of heat slowly retreating into the ocean.

“Now, since it is becoming dark, why don’t we retire for the night?” I announce. The other’s agree without complaint so we start setting up camp.

I assign each person a job. Ferdinand and Miranda go to fetch water from my cell. Gonzalo begins making a fire for us, figures he’s the only one to know how to make one from the guests. I instruct Antonio and Sebastian to go fishing for dinner mostly because they are no good for anything else. Alonso and I are left to set up the tents, avoiding one another as much as we can. Once Antonio and Sebastian come back with their catches, I look over them for any signs of poisoning, finding none.

Dinner is a silent affair except for Ferdinand and Miranda who insist on feeding each other. After, we extinguish the fire and settle for bed. I go into the woods to take a leak before slumber. Over time, I have grown used to the night and have developed a sense of awareness of objects.

On the way, I bump into someone. He lets out a small scream and I instantly know who it is.

“Dramatic, much?” I say in a clipped tone. I don’t let him respond before I move past.

Once a good distance away, I press my back against a tree and palm at my racing heart. Everyday for twelve years, he has been on my mind. Everyday for twelve years, I held nothing but resentment.

Except that’s a lie.

A lie that I’ve built up to elude myself of my true feelings of hurt.

I hate him…that much is true. I hate him for what he did to me. I hate him for his betrayal. But I cannot deny the bitterness that floods my mouth with every thought of him. I long for the days of childhood, when we played tag with each other cause we only had each other. I remember the bright-eyed Antonio who looked up to me as his older brother, who begged for a piggy-back ride. I miss my brother, my sweet little brother who gave me half of his cookie to cheer me up.

I hate his betrayal but I always wondered why he did so. Was it out of his own greed for power? Or was it because of me? Was I not good enough? Did something happen to him that I failed to notice? Did I fail him like I failed our parents?

These thoughts were always there but I banished them to the back of my mind, too cowardly to face them. I didn’t want to know the answer and now I’ll never know.

Earlier, I felt powerful seeing the fear in his eyes but now, acid forces its way through my throat. I inflicted that fear. I made him fearful. When we bumped into one another just moments ago, he flinched away.

My little brother is afraid of me.

My hands fly to cover my mouth and my teeth sink down onto my bottom lip to contain my sob. My legs giveaway and I slide flat on my arse, knees pressed close to my chest. My tears slide down my face like a waterfall and my face scrunches in anguish of what I’ve become. I muffle my sobs as best as I can but come to a complete stop when I hear faint footsteps and voices.

“Are you sure about this?”

My eyebrows shoot up. That’s Ferdinand’s voice!

“Yes, yes I am,”

Miranda! But what are they doing at this time? Everyone else should be sleeping.

“I just don’t understand why you are going through with this. Aren’t you at least a little angry at your father for putting a love spell on us?”

My eyes fly open and I stop breathing. When had the spell worn off?!

“No, I don’t.” Miranda spoke softly.

“But how? He manipulated you for his own benefit!”

“That may be true but my love for him outweighs any anger inside me. He tried his all in giving me a normal childhood. He called me his, ‘Little Princess’, and was the best father I could have asked for. So I want to return the favor. I want to make him happy, like he does for me.”

A fresh wave of tears fell at those words spoken so softly by my daughter. Her words break me in a way only a parent could understand.

I wish Miranda wasn’t my daughter. I wish she had a father who loved her unconditionally, who wouldn’t set her under a love spell for their own selfish desire. She deserves more than I am.

If only I was a better father, a better man.

But I’m not.

I sit behind the tree some more, reflecting on the past few years and today. I think of all the pain I caused, all the things I ruined in the name of my revenge. Finally, I stood up having made up my mind.

My reflection had taken the entire night as it seems as the sun began to peak above the ocean. I walk to my cell and retrieve my knife.

One last thing to do.

“My Ariel, chick, to the elements. Be free, and fare thou well! Please you, draw near.” I whisper

And with that, I collapse to my knees.

I breathe in. Once. Twice.

And I pierce the knife into my stomach.

[alchemine]

How great would it be if Miranda Cleaves could come back for an episode with the Thirteenth Doctor, though? 

‘I see you’ve changed your face.’ 

‘Yes, well, it happens from time to time. Duck!’

(they dive behind a random packing crate/piece of space equipment and crouch there while things explode)

‘That’s all right. Ever since the gangers, I’ve come to appreciate a bit of variety.’

‘Good to know, now RUN!’ 

[nervouspearl]

[roslin]

raquel cassidy as Miranda Cleaves  » doctor who | 6.05 & 6.06

[witchesmortuary]

Raquel Cassidy and John Barrowman in 'Hustle' as a couple. Aka. Miranda Cleaves and Captain Jack Harkness meeting and, just like a miracle, they get along perfectly. Miranda: Hello I am Miranda Cleaves and you are..? Jack: Captain Jack - *gets interrupted* Doctor: No! Stop it! Ms Cleaves I just saved you from death. Don't betray me in THAT way. Jack: *winks at Miranda* Miranda: *grins*

[ilovemiddleageactresses-blog]

Anyone else notice the two cats on Cleaves' locker? I was just rewatching it and I saw it out the corner of my eye. Plus its kinda ironic because she's just so angry in this scene and there are just randomly two kittens on her locker??? Way to set the mood.

[pixhot]

Miranda Kerr

[ilovecathtates2]

This is my friend’s fault. He said something about Donna and Cleaves and I made it :v

[mxchineandnerve]

The Darkness that Brings on the Light

He had survived.

Despite the danger, despite the odds, despite fate’s cruel hand tearing away nearly everyone he’d come to care about, he’d survived.

Keyes.

Johnson.

Miranda.

Even the goddamned Arbiter.

There were too many names, too many voices smothered in the dark. Any other man would have thought himself painfully and dreadfully alone. John was grateful for the fact that he wasn’t.

“We made it through just as it collapsed..”

Cortana’s soothing voice was like an anchor for the storm-tossed boat that was John’s mind.

“Well, some of us made it through.”

The Dawn had been bisected; the cleaved rooms within its shorn edge still glowed cherry-red, a testament to what would likely have happened to the Chief and his artificial companion, should his luck have run out. In a way, it did. The two were undoubtedly far from human-occupied space, perhaps lifetimes away.

Cortana went silent for a while as her human maneuvered himself through the darkness to his singular source of salvation; the cryo-tubes. They were his only hope of survival. The derelict vessel couldn’t support him otherwise, it had been rendered as lifeless as the void that surrounded it. The silence gnawed at his Spartan heart.

Kelly.

Linda.

Fred.

Grace.

Will.

James.

Anton.

Sam.

And John was the last among them. He’d outlived them all. Perhaps luck was his curse rather than his blessing.

“But you did it. Truth, the Covenant, the Flood; it’s finished.”

For the rest of his species, it was worth every drop of sweat and blood to make it this far. Never again would the shadows of star-beasts darken humanity’s door. Never again would children go to bed fearing that the fiery lances from the sky would burn their home next.

“It’s finished.” 117 echoed, almost surprised by the grim tone his voice had taken.

“I’ll drop a beacon, but it’ll be a while before anyone finds us; years even.” John wanted to reassure his companion; however long a rescue took didn’t particularly matter to him.

He might wake in a week or a year. He might not wake at all, remaining here as a relic of a far crueler time. Either way didn’t matter. All that mattered was the silence, the peace that would come with the ice on his armor. He could no longer pretend that he was anything but weary. His nigh-unbreakable bones ached and his flesh cried out for much-needed relief. It comforted John to know that soon his aching bones and aching heart would no longer trouble him.

As he gently lowered himself into the cryo-tube, for the first time in months, John-117 breathed a sigh of relief. Despite being the last living  Spartan, he wasn’t alone here and never would be.

“Wake me when you need me.” He informed Cortana.

And he didn’t speak again for another four years.

The silent stellar winds howled and frost coated the Spartan’s armor like fresh paint, yet he slept dreamlessly and peacefully.

_____________________________________________________

“Wake up, Chief. I need you!”

[alchemine]

Is it time to rewatch these episodes? I think yes. 

[nervouspearl]

“Foreman Miranda Cleaves. Marvellous. Beware of imitations.”