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mggpleasedontlookhere · 4 years ago

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liar liar pt. 2

request: I have a request, the reader is dating Spencer, and she and JJ are the ones that know that Emily faked her death. I’m thinking of it taking place in “It Takes A Village,” and she has to deal with Spencer being upset with her, like he was with JJ, but it has a fluff ending? Thanks!

for: @flklrevrmre

word count: 2,192 reading time approx: 9 mins

a/n: i hope you enjoy this ending ;) and i’m elated to have so many new friends on my taglist.

masterlist

pt. 1

My ring finger traced the circumference of the wine glass I was drinking out of, while my eyes followed the marble trails of Rossi’s countertop. The team was giggling and chatting amongst themselves as I secluded myself. My thoughts were captured by my insecurities, paralyzing every fun bone I had in my body. Occasionally, I would contribute to their conversations, but only enough that I didn’t make myself seem bereaved.

After a while, it became apparent that I wasn’t participating in the festivities, which conjured Emily and JJ to step away from the group, joining me. “Hey…” JJ eased into small talk, stuffing her hands into her pocket as she approached me. I replied with a light smile, their presence uplifting my current state.

I knew what they wanted to say. I knew what they were going to ask.

Spencer.

“How are you holding up Y/N?” Emily hesitantly brought herself into the conversation. They both gazed at me with doe eyes, tenderness evident in their touch as they resided beside me.

I took my lip in between my teeth, shaking my head as the fatigue had finally caught up to me. My chest throbbed from being sore all week, my shoulders were frail from being uneasy all the time, and my heart burned with self-reproach. With every passing day, I felt my limbs grow limp and my soul go numb. In contradiction, the two halves of my brain battled one another till my doubts were left to torment me further.

With the silent response, JJ and Emily shared glances of disquietude, pondering their next steps. “Y/N?” JJ called out softly, laying a tender hand on top of mine. “You took a burden alone. That doesn’t mean you have to go through it alone,” she murmured, nodding to Emily.

“Y/N, I can’t help but feel like this is my fault,” Emily lamented. “I just...tell me that there’s a way I can help.”

“There’s nothing either of you can do…” I smiled bitterly, glancing at both of them. I squeezed JJ’s hand, feeling a film cast over my eyes. “And Emily, you had to protect Declan,” I empathize, using my other hand to pull her into a side hug. “I would’ve done the same.”

“I can tell,” Emily looked at me with somber reverence. “Especially for what you did for Spence.”

Another pang hit the center of my chest, making my ribcage sting. The mention of his name made my skin crawl instead of making my heart flutter like it used to. I wordlessly winced at Emily’s notice, trying to conceal it the best I can. “And I would do it again,” I declared, meaning every word. “I’d burn the entire world if it meant making sure that he isn’t alone. I...I know what it feels like to be confined in your head--it’s something me and him share. It’s a merciless place.”

“You really do love him, don’t you?”

“More than I can ever fathom.”

I stared at the ceiling, letting my tears travel back inside of my head. I shut my eyes, feeling a deep burn envelop my eyelids from all the crying I’ve done previously. “I spoke to him,” Emily brought up.

My attention instantly shifted to her, prompting her to elaborate. “I spoke to him when we wrapped up that case in New York,” she explained. I unknowingly leaned over, listening intently to her story. “We had a conversation about everything--you. I won’t get into details because that’s between you and Spencer, but I did encourage him to come tonight.”

My nerves did small somersaults, unable to process the new piece of information. “Are you sure?” I falteringly asked.

“I’m sure he’ll come.”

But he didn’t.

A few hours had passed, and there was no evidence of Spencer’s attendance. With another disappointment, the burden of my thoughts pried at my most vulnerable parts.

I had enough.

I rose from my seat, bidding everyone adieu as I excused myself to the backyard. Amid the formalities, I assured everyone of my well-being and that I would return soon. Their persistent objections were loud, loud enough to stifle the opening of the front door as I stepped outside.

I felt the cool air caress my shoulders while crickets chirped a nightly symphony. The moon glowed with elegance, and stars painted the sky in an ethereal light. From a distance, it looked as if the planets were mere neighbors greeting one another.

It was beautiful; it took me out of the confines of my mind.

Chatter can still be heard in the background, but somehow it blended nicely with the lively sounds of night creatures. Although what I didn’t realize was the thump of approaching footsteps behind me.

“Hey,” muttered a hushed voice.

The instant I recognized the presence, my entire body stiffened. The inside lights cast a shadow on the wooden porch I sat on, displaying a lanky silhouette on the ground. I couldn’t bring myself to move, let alone speak. My tongue was pierced against the roof of my mouth, petrified to unpack the situation at hand.

He responded to my silence with a reluctant step towards me. Even in our circumstances, I can still feel his presence lingering on the soft skin of my back, making the little hairs stand. Our proximity was slowly closing in with every soft thud until he was eventually situated next to me.

I unconsciously looked over my shoulder, opposite of him, to avoid his curious stare. I shut my eyes, isolating myself in my mind in the hopes that this was a dream. But the frequent trembles of my stomach told me otherwise.

“Y/N?” he called out delicately. “Y/N...please,” he attempted to brush my hand with his fingers, but by instinct, I retracted them with swiftness. A bolt of electricity shot up my arm from Spencer’s touch, a cruel remeberance of the fervor we used to share. My fingertips shivered at the loss of contact, but the static sensation remained.

“Y/N, I know that you probably don’t want to talk to me--and you have every right to…” he babbled. “...but I just--please just listen to me.”

But I refused, every word that fell from his supple lips made the echo in my head boisterous.

I was a mistake.

I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling my abdomen clench in misery. The sensation traveled deep into my chest, pulling me in different directions. My throat cinched up, and the coldness wandered all over my body. Every muscle in me cried out in anguish, unable to persevere through the exhaustion that I’ve let consume me.

“Y/N-”

“Please just go…” I whispered, choking on the aching sobs rising in my esophagus.

“I’ll leave...I promise,” he muttered in a pained voice. “But just...please, let me say this.”

Newfound tears threatened to spill over my eyes, the sorrow in his voice creating a void in me. With the little compassion I had left, I turned around facing his direction. Although I didn’t dare to acknowledge his gaze, instead, I settled my attention on the wood below.

“I know that it’s hard to get through to me, and I know I get stuck in my head,” he began, lowering his head. “You and I both know how hopeless it gets being alone there.”

He twiddled his fingers as he spoke, an implication of his distress. An infinitesimal part of me still yearned to comfort the man, to ease his worries away, but I didn’t have to courage to do so.

“When I get into that space, I get...I get frightened by the doubts that my mind conjures up,” he admits. “Everyone looks at me as the genius--the expectation given to me. But, only you and JJ look at me for who I am instead of who I must be for the team.”

His voice started to crack in between his words, his deliverance laced with dejection and bitterness. I rang my fingers over the textured floorboards, distracting myself from the swelling ache in my heart.

“But you Y/N…” he whispered, gazing at me with a rueful adoration. “You alone bring so much light into the obscurity of my mind. You...you make all my pains go away with nothing but a glance of your smile, ” he chuckled pitifully. “Y/N, you-”

“You told me I was mistake…” I croaked, ignoring the sharp twinge in my throat.

I finally met his gaze with a weary expression. His hair was slightly disheveled, and the bags encompassing his eyes were prominent. But it was the torment evident in them that was the most striking. His irises failed to gleam of their usual autumn hazel, and the golden specks scattered across the tender hue were dull.

“I...I know,” he struggled to admit. “But, I was wrong-”

“You...you told me I was your biggest mistake,” I reiterated, my voice coming off shaky and unstable. “Reid, you…” I paused, my pitch elevating as a whimper loomed to escape my lips. “You hurt me...so much, Reid.”

I scoffed, my vision going blurry from impending tears. Spencer hung his head in remorse, combing his hand through his curls as he attempted to keep his composure. An uneasy silence ensued that not even the blissful sounds of wildlife can mask the tautness in the air.

“I...I know,” he muttered quietly. “JJ, she told me the truth after our...after what happened at the station during the case,” he confessed. “You did all that...you took all the blame, just, so I had someone to be there with me.”

I sighed, shutting my eyes at his admission. “I didn’t...I couldn’t bear the thought of you going through it alone,” I affirmed.

“But you…” Spencer paused, shaking his head at himself. “You...did it all alone.”

All of my guards fell at the utterance of his words. My heart throbbed, and my chest ultimately gave out. Suppressed sobs wracked my entire being, slipping past my tired lips with ease. My head felt faint, and my shoulders slumped. Agony coursed throughout my body, feeling it prick every inch of my skin.

Spencer shifted next to me in an instant, engulfing me in his arms. There I wailed and cried every tear that was humanly possible. I set free the entrapped painful sentiments I’ve burrowed under my stubbornness, and I let the numbness drift out of my body. All that was left was the carcass of my grief and an apprehensive heart.

“I’m sorry Y/N...I’m so sorry,” Spencer repeated, cradling me back and forth while he tried to mask his whimpers.

For most of the night, we stayed in each other’s embrace as the moonlight graced our figures. My face was delved into the cleft of his neck, and his chin laid snugly on my head. The rise and fall of my chest was still erratic, but it was in a much healthier state than before. Our combined breathing was the only distinguishable sound floating in the air after we had steadied ourselves.

The party inside was subdued, and the chatter was nonexistent. The lights were still on, but it seemed that the team had moved elsewhere to celebrate their festivities. Before long, the quiet around us ceased as Spencer broke the silence.

“Y/N?” Spencer whispered.

I nudged my face further into his neck, prompting him to continue.

“What I said...the horrible things that I told you, you have to know that they’re not true,” he lamented, taking my balled-up fists into his palms. “Y/N, you’re far from a mistake. The biggest mistake I’ve made to date is making you believe that,” he croaked.

“Spencer...what you did-”

“Wait--just--let me finish,” he nodded, playing with my hands. “Y/N, you bring color into what I see...yo-you bring color into everything that I do,” he professed, stumbling over his words. “You make it easy to wake up every day and do what we need to do because I know I get to wake up next to you.”

His lips began to tremble, and his hands began to shake. Instinctively, I cupped his hands and brought them close to my chest.

“I…I love you...so much, Y/N,” he whimpered. “And I hate myself for making you feel like you were comparable to anyone else, or that you were insignificant.”

I pressed small kisses to his knuckles, knowing that it would calm him down. I felt a pang hit my torso in Spencer’s discomfort, igniting the part of me that longed to console him. I observed the collapse of his stature and the decomposed state of his demeanor, his appearance visibly in plight.

“Truth be told, Y/N. You are the most significant thing in my life…” he whispered. “You make me whole.”

As he finished his declaration, tears welled up in both our eyes for the last time. “Spence…” I breathed, basking in the warmth that his eyes radiated, despite his desperation.

“Loving you...is one of the greatest thing I will ever do.”

taglist: @rexorangecouny @howdycharlie @honeymilk-4 @linthebinbag @andreasworlsboring101 @ssareidbby @kyleetheeditor @tclaerh @jimilogy @lulwaxim @jhillio @m3ssytrash @haylaansmi @meowiemari @ashwarren32 @spencerwaltergubler

‘liar liar’ taglist: @lieswithoutfairytales @foreveryoungxx3 @goldentournesol @l0ve-0f-my-life @kenny-0909 @andiebeaword @hercleverboy

tags that don’t work: @crazymar15 @nighttimerain123

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dillienotfound · 4 years ago

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𝗪𝗔𝗬 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗡.

── 𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗕𝗬 ;; @sushisoot

── 𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗕𝗬 ;; @okeanid

── 𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ;; angst, kind of depressing + hearing voices in your head

𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 !

𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐖 many paintings you create, no matter how many quilts you sew, or naps you take, your mind is always going to go back to him. There’s nothing you can do about it, either. It’s like he’s carved into the back of your mind, a constant reminder of who he used to be, who you used to be.

You miss the way he used to hold you, arms wrapped around you protectively, shielding you from any harm that could ever come your way. You miss the whispers that made shivers travel up and down your spine in the best way possible. You miss the bliss that came with having the title of being his.

But you weren’t his anymore, in fact, you hadn’t seen him since he had been put in jail, and even before then, he was already drifting away from you. As the day of his arrest came closer and closer, Dream was already slipping away from your fingertips, and you couldn’t hold on, he was fading too fast.

You were the only source of beauty in his life, the only thing holding him together and stopping him from reaching his breaking point. Eventually, he became so ruined to the point where even you weren’t enough to heal him. It all began to go downhill when he started to grow obsessed with the idea of manipulating people, it was his strongest weapon, it made him almost invincible.

He started speaking to you less and less when this happened.

His arms that were once always wrapped around your figure tightly so that you didn’t slip away began to be lazily draped around you, as if he didn’t care. The words he used to whisper to you about how pulchritudinous you were had simply just not been there anymore, no more whispers, just silence.

You like to remember the night where he first held you the way you liked it. He would often pepper your face with soft kisses, and admire every single detail on you, he’d admire your smile, the way your eyes had been so striking that he got lost in them every time you turned to glance at him.

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

The stars were beautiful that night, they were scattered across the moon drenched sky that looked down at the two of you. You and Dream. You were in awe of it, the beautiful night sky that you spend so long admiring from down below could always manage to give you goosebumps as well as put a smile on your face. Dream felt the same way about the sky, he loved the way the stars used to somehow always align at the perfect moment, allowing him to make his own constellation.

Though in Dream’s eyes, you were the most beautiful thing he was laying his eyes on. He couldn’t resist the urge to hold you close to him and never let go, he couldn’t keep his mind away from the temptation of laying his lips on your soft ones. He wanted to stay like this forever.

But good things never last.

“You look so beautiful,” Dream whispered into your ear, like usual, sending the regular chills down your spine you always had whenever Dream even glanced at you. You looked up from the ground to see his emerald coloured eyes still trained on you, a small smirk playing on his lips.

He’s about enough to make anyone go crazy, especially you.

And when you gave him that smile, the smile that drove him crazy and filled his stomach with butterflies, he realized that you were his constellation. He said nothing for a bit and instead wrapped his arms around you once again, making you flush a shade of scarlet. Even though Dream couldn’t see you because it was dark, he knew the blush was there on your face, he could sense it.

He held you so close to the point where you could feel his heartbeat, his hands found their way to yours, and his fingers between through yours. Your heartbeat began to beat faster as he let go of one of your hands, bringing it to your face and tilting your head upwards just a little bit so that you were forced to meet his eyes directly.

It felt like a dream, a beautiful and blissful dream you wished would last forever, but it wasn’t a dream.

“Here’s a question, (Y/N),” Dream spoke, voice a little deeper than normal, “Hypothetically, sort of, what would you do if I possibly kissed you right about now?” He asked while quirking an eyebrow, your eyes widened as he waited for your response, a hint of playfulness evident in his expression.

“Well,” You let out, “I would, uh, yes,” Was all you could reply with along with a nervous chuckle afterwards. Dream grinned a little bit, beginning to inch closer towards your face. He did so until a small gap was left between your lips and his, and he let out a small breath and ran his tongue over his lips slowly.

“Lucky me,” Was all you heard him say before his mouth crashed onto yours, and an explosion of bliss and ecstasy erupted between the two of you as his arms traveled from around your waist to around your neck. Even though you had sort of expected this, that didn’t stop you from freezing slightly, though you melted into his embrace again slightly after.

You used to adore this, you once loved all of it, you used to love the feeling of him running his hands through your thick hair and the feeling of his lips on yours.

Key words, “Once,” and “Used to.”

When you discovered he had ruined the lives of so many people, you felt you wanted nothing to do with him anymore. You weren’t able to believe it, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that your lover was responsible for someone’s misery.

It’s not that you were still in love with Dream the way you used to be, there were still emotions attached to him and your relationship, but you hated him.

You hate him but you miss him.

Well, you miss the old him.

His words to you were lies, all lies. He didn’t mean a single thing. He doesn’t love you, if he loved you he would’ve cared, if he loved you he wouldn’t have ruined your future together.

But his words still rang through your ears everyday.

“I love you.” “My constellation.” “My darling.” “The light of my life.” “My angel.” “I won’t leave you.”

“I’m here, darling.” “If I could relive one moment it would be seeing your face for the first time so I can try and find the words to describe my emotions when laying my eyes on you.”

“Fucking liar,” you told yourself, vision blurry with tears while you found yourself thinking about him once again.

You tried not to think about him but every single day you could hear his voice in your head, trying to convince you that he still loves you, but he wasn’t real. You knew the Dream you once loved and cared for was long gone, and the only version left of Dream was the manipulative one who you wanted to tear apart.

“I love you.” “Fuck you.” “I never stopped, (Y/N).” “You liar.” “I miss you.”

“I hate you.”

“I need you.”

“But if I hate you...”

“I can be better.”

“Why do I find my thoughts constantly leading back to you?”

“I’m sorry.”

You let out a shaky breath and leaned against the solid wall digging into your spine and began to slowly slide down against it to the point where you were sitting on the floor, hugging your knees against your chest.

You wanted to stop being in a constant loop of emotions. Everyday felt the same, wake up, brush your teeth, and think about him. Dream, Dream, Dream. You wished he stopped occupying your mind every minute of every day, and you tried not to cry when you thought about him but you couldn’t help it.

“I wish we didn’t grow older,” you told yourself as your voice cracked slightly, wiping away tears with your palms. “Couldn’t we just have stayed way back then?”

And like always, everyday, you started to break even more.

#dream #dreamsmp #dream smp #dreamwastaken #dream x reader #dsmp #angst #mcyt x reader #writing #wattpad #dillienotfound

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jcsters · 1 year ago

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"Liar." She called him out with a laugh - didn't mind that he hadn't recognized her, or his claim that she looked different; Myria had dyed her hair plenty of colors in the years since they've last spoken. Mostly on a whim, whenever she was experiencing Big Emotions. "Oh! Yeah! Dinner sounds like - superb, super. Do people still like, use the word epic? That's like - pretty epic, I guess."

jcsters:

Myria looked at Garrett for a second before letting out a laugh, covering her hand after a second. “Sorry - it’s just - wow, do you really not remember me? I’m like, shocked, flabbergasted - hurt, even.” She settled down after a moment, hand clasping her forearm - smile still playing on her lips. “I’m Myria - remember? High school? You were like - at least two inches shorter?”

“Myria? Holy shit you look so different,” Garrett said, with a small laugh. He was lying because she basically looked the same. It just didn’t click until she spelled it out for him. He has simply known too many women in the time since they last saw each other and a lot of them blend together at this point. “It’s been so long, we should do dinner to catch up. On me, of course, since I dropped the ball on our epic reconnection.”

#––– ❛ replies 【 little blurry stars scattered all across. 】#c:garrett wood

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mlpdestinyverse · 4 years ago

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“The Bigger One”

Heather Tart is used to many things, be it receiving praise, using her charm to sway a situation to her favor, or asserting her dominance as a respected student at Twilight's School of Friendship.

A punch to the face...is not one of those things.

Feat. Star Chime, Heather (Tart) Reed

Related Chapters: Tongue Twister, Honesty, Confrontation ~Destinyverse Archive~

Story and Description Under The Cut

Heather Tart had a plan. Of course she did. Her meticulous mind could think its brilliant way through anything. Especially when she had a goal so close to her she might just be able to touch it. As such, she used her natural charisma to discreetly excuse herself out of her afterschool clubroom that day. It was a little earlier than the typical time her Science Club ended. Not that it mattered. Not only did their activities finish early, but in their final moments of leisure time, only one topic buzzed relentlessly around the classroom. Princess Luna was here, visiting the School of Friendship. Under what pretense - and for how long - no one knew. Near the end of the day, the regal Alicorn had been spotted by a stray hall monitor. Striding beside Princess Twilight Sparkle, Luna had been touring the school grounds between class periods, quietly observing the students through door windows while they busied themselves with classwork. Yet she was nowhere to be seen once said periods had ended and the hallways bustled with hooves and claws alike. Elusive as ever, their mysterious Moon Princess. One could assume the Princess of the Night had discreetly taken her leave long ago; glorious gossip, however, said otherwise.

Heather's heart had nearly burst when she'd heard the news. Years of dreaming and the heavenly Alicorns were finally rewarding her. The teenaged Earth Pony resisted prancing through the empty halls in her excitement. Upon trotting out the front doors, Heather scanned the beautiful frontal schoolyard and its glistening pond that surrounded the entrance. The sky was still gray from its brief shower hours before, and with careful hooves, the filly made her way across the damp stones cutting through the pond and around the side of the school. With even more precaution, Heather made sure to avoid the mud in favor of patches of rain-touched grass. She hated nothing more than muddying her hooves. And if she was going to meet Princess Luna? She was going to do everything to ensure she'd look as elegant and pristine as ever. Step one: Make her way towards the back, where she knew the school's picnic tables were scattered about just for students during their lunch periods and downtime. Step two: Grab the nearest table towards the backdoors. Probability told her, almost without a shadow of a doubt, that this would be the very exit Princess Luna would use if her tendency to avoid crowds and not cause a fuss was anything to go by. It wasn't one hundred percent guaranteed, but the chances were high enough that Heather was willing to take it. It wouldn't be out of character for her, either. Heather loved sitting at a table on a sunny day to quietly work on homework. Sometimes, as president of her club, she'd even sit there to plan out new fun lab experiments for the Science Club's next meeting. Studious. Conscientious. Hard-working. She could never get enough of teachers and students alike noticing her and praising her efforts. As they should. The scenario in her mind played out the same way. She'll be sitting there, hunched over a notebook and mulling over new club activities, when Princess Luna and Twilight waltz their way out of those doors. They'll see her, Twilight will ask her what she's doing, and Heather would yet again demonstrate her leadership and intellect. Twilight will praise her, introduce her to Luna as one of her best students- And the youngest of the royal sisters will look upon her and remember her name. Heather could feel her heart racing and subconsciously her hooves picked up their pace. Meeting the other princesses, catching their attention, and standing out amongst the drabble...if she were to be honest, she didn't realize just how much she ached for it. Not until now. Not until it was so close- Heather turned the corner, honing in on the table she knew would be hers- Only to find another sitting there. And oh, at the sight of her, Heather felt her very blood boil. Of course she just had to be here. The dullest, most boring-looking Unicorn that had ever insulted Heather's eyes; dull white and cream coat, drab grayish-blue mane, pale and ugly blue irises as narrow as a snake's. And who could ever miss that long, rat-like tail with a tuff of mane at the end, just lying on the bench beside her. She wanted to laugh at this filly's attire too, trying to pass off as prim and proper with an outfit that only made her look like a senile office worker. Heather knew very well who this was. And she despised her very existence. But as a filly of her own standing at this school, she had appearances to keep up. So with the most saccharine smile she could muster, Heather took long, deliberate steps towards the other filly. It didn't take long for the Unicorn to notice her, those snake eyes flicking up from what had to be the most ostentatious book Heather had ever seen; silver and grey with metallic decor on its cover, embedded with one large tacky-looking gem just as blue-gray and washed out as the filly it belonged to. Heather stopped beside the table, avoiding a muddy patch beneath it, and held the Unicorn's gaze as much as those eyes repulsed her up close. "Hi there! You must be new around here!" Heather chirped. She gave the filly a chance to at least muster a reply. She should have expected the Unicorn to

cautiously eye her like a socially inept buffoon. After an awkward few seconds, she nodded. "I am," the filly managed. Good for her. "Well isn't that nice!" Heather lies through her teeth and a beaming smile. "Then I can't blame you for not knowing! Where you're sitting right now is my usual seat. But hey, now you know, so I'm sure you won't mind moving for me, hm~?" The Unicorn stared at her. Two seconds. Five seconds. Heather watched impatiently as the other filly swept her gaze across the other empty tables around them, almost pointedly. 'Yeah. You heard what I said. I'm not being subtle. Get lost.' Victory was in her grasp, of course. She wasn't the only one here that had pretenses to maintain and denying her civility would only make this filly look like the asshole of the two. And that wouldn't make the Unicorn much of a role model, now would it? Heather's innocent smile stretched expectantly, taking in the Unicorn's deadpan expression boring into her. Another annoying second later and the other filly finally shut her book tight, sliding it to one side without breaking eye contact. "No. I don't think I will." Heather's smile twitched. How she didn't take into account a lack of even the most basic social courtesies from this filly, she'll never know. "Well that's a little harsh," Heather feigned hurt, disguising the simmering fury just beneath her skin. "I just wanted my favorite seat for my studying. Is that really too much to ask for?" An unwavering, distrustful narrow of those eyes was the Unicorn's only response. So. That's how it was going to be. ...yet face-to-face with such blatant defiance, Heather - for the first time - was at a dead end. There was no sweet talking that face. And with no one around, there was no leverage here for her to turn the tables. Behind pursed lips her jaw clenched and her teeth grated. Pathetic. Pathetic. It infuriated her how rapidly the power had shifted - power taken from her in the one place Heather had worked for it. Power THIS outsider didn't deserve. It was then that Heather's eye honed in on a certain pretty little book, teetering near the edge of the table. Ah. Okay then. Heather could take a loss. She could take a small, minuscule hit to her pride. No one was there to see it. Her goal was still in reach, so long as she kept up pleasantries and proceeded with her plan at the next table over. Heather, however, wasn't above taking small, subtle, petty victories. Anything for the satisfaction of reminding others where she stood around here. "That's too bad...but I understand." Heather sighed and hung her head. "I won't bother you." She turned her body, then. Too quickly. Or just fast enough to make the harsh bump of her flank against the table's edge at least semi-believable. She listened for it... SQUISH A gross squelch cut the silence, a sound that was beautiful to her ears. As she had hoped, turning back around revealed the plummeted book, lying delightfully amongst the brown patch of muck below the table. Despite her gasp, Heather could barely stop herself from grinning at her success. "Oh no!" she exclaimed, and it was just as difficult to stifle a much-needed laugh, especially with how much this Unicorn's face had slackened at the sight beneath them; silvers and greys, now smeared with dark mud. The other filly took in the filthy book with dim eyes. Poor spoiled girl. "I'm so sorry! Let me-" Heather's hoof was inches away from picking up the book to present to the Unicorn - a grand power move in her head - when a sourceless light blinded her. The Earth Pony barely had time to react before something solid rammed straight into her face. All she could do was squeal and tumble back into the ground at the excruciating pain and the sheer force of the impact. There was a wet slippery slide of the earth below her, displaced by the collision of her body. She didn't even know she was holding her stinging face until she pulled back trembling hooves from it, furiously blinking her blurry vision back into focus. Her head throbbed, the blood rushing into it

pulsing loudly in her ears. While her world was reassembling itself, Heather felt the fabric of her torso become seized and in moments her entire body was being pulled up by a shocking amount of strength. The open-air was suddenly freezing against her pelt, forcing her delayed senses to fully experience the scorching hot pain spreading through her muzzle and cheeks. Her left eye especially struggled to stay open, even as another face shoved itself into hers. The filly before her breathed shallowly against her nose, wild and unhinged eyes resembling a beast now more than ever. "That," the Unicorn heaved out in a heavy, shaking breath. She renewed her grip on Heather's dress, expression distorted into a monstrous snarl. "Was father's you heartless wench!" Heather felt like a ragdoll, swaying on weak, dirtied hindlegs, one hoof pathetically draped over the vice-grip holding her in place. Her brain felt shaken, thoughts racing. And her blood ran cold when the other filly let out a quiet, humorless laugh at her. "Oh, I know your type..." the Unicorn whispered breathlessly, those venomous irises burning holes into her. "Thinking you're the biggest fish in the pond. Like you can lord over everyone else without consequence. You think no one can stand up against you." Heather choked on a sound as her face was pulled in further, a breath ghosting her muzzle even hotter than before. Her panicked magenta eyes darted up to the Unicorn's horn; what was already glowing a haunting silvery-blue now crackled violently with energy, stray white sparks searing into her exposed skin. A primitive growl ripped out of the other filly, and in those ferocious eyes, Heather swore she saw bloodlust. "How's it feel to meet a bigger fucking fish?" Heather screamed. It was something raw and primitive of her own, and she thrashed in the other filly's hold to no avail. She didn't know how long that went on for, wasn't sure how much time was passing as she waited for another strike- "STAR CHIME!" A booming, commanding voice filled the space, powerful enough to tremor the ground beneath them. Her ears only then registered a number of other voices rising in volume and proximity. The rigid muscles in her neck ached when she finally turned her head just enough to see out of the corner of her eye. So many heads were sticking out of classroom windows, no doubt stragglers from clubs that surely have ended by now. Amongst those faces, she could recognize a few teachers, and to the right... Princess Twilight and Princess Luna, with the backdoors thrown open around them. Her attacker jerked away, releasing Heather to let her fall onto her forelegs. As soon as she was released, a blur of movement rushed out from the creatures gathered behind the two Alicorns. "Heather!" The Earth Pony almost instinctively flinched away, but was immediately soothed by the familiar arms of her best friend, Amber Shine, cradling her form. It amazed her how the Pegasus filly was willingly angling her body to both support her weight and shield her if need be. Despite the protective walls surrounding her, Heather still had a clear view of the princesses. Twilight looked absolutely horrified. But clearly someone else here held the most oppressive presence and authority. Princess Luna looked upon the scene with a frigid death stare that would cut through anyone. And it was trained on one single filly. "What is this?!" Luna demanded, her deep voice rumbling the air like thunder. When she strode forward, not even Twilight dared to stay in step. She trailed behind the other princess with shock etched into her youthful features. The Unicorn shuffled, and Heather watched Star Chime's newly distressed visage come to life. Her long tail lashed behind her like an agitated cat. "She knocked father's tome into the muck, mother!" Star shouted, eyes darting wildly from Heather to Princess Luna. The Alicorn's expression actually faltered for a second before her sharp blue eyes landed on Heather. And Heather's heart jolted in terror. 'No...no! Don't you dare ruin this for

me!' "It was an accident!" Heather wailed back, letting every ounce of emotion pour into her voice. Near-instantly, Star Chime whipped towards her with a scowl. "You LIAR!" "ENOUGH!" Star Chime's head snapped up to look at her mother, as Princess Luna now stood a mere tail length before them, dark blue wings flaring out behind her. "That does not constitute violence against a defenseless subject, Star Chime!" And as the lunar princess seared those harsh eyes into her daughter, it dawned on Heather the advantage she had. The position she was in, with her face undoubtedly swollen and appearance soiled by the assault of that horrid young princess. She was more grudgeful now than fearful, though she couldn't deny the tears of pain and prior-fear-for-her-life that had left streaks in their wake. However, there was room to play it up further. So focusing on the pain and just how overwhelmed she felt? A hiccuping, sniveling mess she became. "Y-you didn't even let me pick it up for you!" Heather sobbed out, pressing her wet cheek into her friend's warm chest. The sweet Pegasus comfortingly stroked her hair. She could just imagine the pity on Amber's brow. "You just attacked me out of nowhere! E-even after I apologized!" Murmurs. Sweet murmurs of concern and disbelief sounded from the far-off onlookers. They knew her; thoughtful, honest Heather, who got along with everyone and had a spotless record. In the face of unnecessary violence, they literally had no reason to doubt her. Besides, how was she supposed to know that garish book was from the late King? Not even the Alicorns above could claim she was lying here. "Oh Heather..." Twilight murmured compassionately, and that alone filled her to the brim with glee. Checkmate. "M-mother, please, I just..." Star Chime begged uselessly. Oh, begging suited her. Too bad she had nothing to excuse her brutishness. She lost this battle ages ago. Heather knew, because Princess Luna could only exhale deeply, her countenance a storm of emotions that the filly was honestly clueless to identify. What Heather hadn't seen coming was the sudden shift in the Moon Princess' expression from there; from rigid and grave to sheer exhaustion and sadness. "I thought we were past this..." Luna whispered, so quietly that Heather had nearly missed it. The true proof that those words were even spoken was the way Star Chime recoiled as if she had been slapped. Heather jumped as feathers slid over her back, only to realize Princess Twilight had moved forward to reassert authority. After shooting her a gentle glance, she returned her attention to the other princesses. She hesitated before opening her mouth to speak- Luna beat her to it. "I have changed my mind, Twilight." Luna began, collecting herself just as quickly as the shift had happened. "Star Chime will not be attending your school after all." Heather would have whistled were this not an inopportune time. She simply sat back and enjoyed the unfolding drama as Star Chime looked at her mother with wide, shell-shocked eyes, frantically searching Luna's face for an answer already before her. "Mother," Star Chime's voice cracked, desperation seeping through. "No, please, let me prove myself-!" "There is nothing to prove." Luna quietly interjected. Her general demeanor was no longer of disappointment or even judgment, but somber patience of all things. "I realize now that you require more of my attention than what little I have given you...perhaps in the future you may return to Ponyville. But now is not your time." As if to make her point, Luna subtly swept her gaze across the onlookers, and Star Chime followed her line of sight. Heather had to agree, Princess Luna was practically showing her mercy. Imagine attending classes here after making a first impression like this. She'd be the talk of the halls. Every soul in Twilight's School would know of the violent princess who punched one of their top students square in the face (and Heather would absolutely make sure every ear knew of it). Little miss Star Chime was better off being pulled

out of this school before she even started. It'd give Heather less of a migraine and save her the humiliation. Just like... "Allow me to extend my deepest apologies in place of my daughter," Luna said towards Heather, whisking away every other thought in her mind. While she began to buzz in delight, that buzz slowly died down at the unreadable expression the Moon Princess wore. She was as formal and distant as ever. Almost...scrutinizing her? Where was her sympathy? "I will be holding a very thorough discussion with her over these events, and I intend to offer reparation to you and your kin." "Heather's parents aren't here in Ponyville," Twilight finally found an opening to speak, taking on the tone of a responsible princess. "But Applejack is her guardian, so I'll be contacting her soon to pick Heather up." "Very well. I will return shortly to speak to her, then, and recompense will be sent to the family." Heather perked up when the royal addressed her once more. "I understand that you are distressed. I will be escorting Star Chime away from here, and you will have time to recover with your friends. I hope you do not mind." Heather sniffled and swiped a hoof over her face. "I don't mind...thank you, princess." Luna's attention left her too quickly for Heather's liking, focusing on the Unicorn princess instead. "Come, Star." Luna called in a hushed voice, taking her exit with grace and purpose. Heather's focus shifted to Star Chime just as the Unicorn's horn lit aglow with that very same eerie silvery blue, levitating the grimy book out of the sludge. As parts of the wet mud slipped off in thick glops, the Unicorn gave the book's cover a weak swipe of her hoof, only managing to smudge muck further into its intricate crevices. While Luna departed with the elegance and power of true royalty, Star all but dragged her hooves after her, gaze downcast and mouth pressed into a firm line. Unsurprisingly, she shot one final scorching side glance at Heather Tart through her draping bangs. It lingered until Heather left her periphery and the Unicorn could only trail after her mother like a helpless foal.

Pressing her head further into her friend's chest, Heather sneered at the filly's retreating back until she rounded the corner and out of sight. 'That's what you get, rat princess.' "Heather, are you okay? What did she even do?!" Now that the immediate threat was gone, her colt friend Arctic Bolt was charging in from the small crowd, nearly slipping a few times in his scramble over. Oh great. Heather wasn't sure if she was in the mood for the buckball star's overdone jests and witty quips at this moment. Yet she couldn't reject the amount of attention and concern she was receiving. "Gods, I think she gave you a black eye." Amber Shine fretted. The filly helped Heather sit up, but the moment she even tried to brush a hoof near the Earth Pony's left socket, Heather flinched away and grunted. "Punched me." Heather forced out through gritted teeth once Arctic had slowed to a stop before them. "Fell to the ground..." "Geez, it's like your dress took as much of a beating as you did..." Arctic muttered. And as much as she wanted to roll her eyes at his dumb remark, looking down proved that the joke was more accurate than she'd realized. Red fabric was now stained with mud and grass and stretched out past its limits by the iron grip of that wretched beast. Or maybe it didn't look so bad! MAYBE that was just her, peering at it with one eye while she held shut the one that was throbbing and bruising over. Yeah. That remuneration better come fast- "Heather, I am so sorry." Twilight's voice promptly grabbed her attention. The Alicorn mare bent her legs to meet her height, looking to her with so much guilt that one would think the perpetrator had been one of her own family. "This shouldn't have happened. Star Chime has been working hard through some of her...habits, and while she's made progress she's also very emotional at heart and then after losing her father-" This was very new and very disconcerting, watching Princess Twilight Sparkle actually fumble through her words and appear rather flustered over the situation. Heather felt her jaw clench. The two had to be pretty close for Twilight to feel this compelled to defend the girl. "That said, harm should have never come to you, especially on my premises. I just...I hope you won't hold this against her. If circumstances were different, I really think you two would have gotten along." Oh. Heather could not stop her face from screwing up at that. Twilight noticed (Heather for once hoped she did, God forbid the Friendship Princess actually tried to forcibly mend this atrocity) and her shoulders noticeably drooped. "But I completely understand if this has damaged those chances."

Twilight took in a healthy breath of air and straightened back up. While she once again spoke with calm and control, the way her ears remained pinned back was hard to miss. "Please head in and wait outside my office whenever you're ready, Heather. I'll let the nurse know to prepare an ice pack for you before I get in contact with Applejack. This'll definitely take some time, so please bear with me." Ugh. Applejack. As if her voice wasn't already annoying to listen to on a daily basis. Now the older mare was going to fuss knowing her overprotective nature and Heather wasn't looking forward to having her ear talked off on how slices of raw potato and toothpaste were the grand answer to healing her face or whatever ridiculous ideas those country bumpkins had in their screwy heads. Moving out and away from the farm life couldn't come sooner. But there were bigger things to focus on in the present. It wasn't until Twilight had walked off, exchanging words with the last few students who were being herded away by the remaining school staff, that Amber Shine voiced a question that had been on Heather's own mind. "What did she mean by...'working through habits'?" The orange Pegasus uttered slowly, eyeing the backdoors as the final student filed in after the princess. "That was way more unsettling than it had to be." "Oh...oh Gods it's all connecting..." Both Heather and Amber turned to Arctic, who was now holding his head between his hooves in what appeared to be either alarm or a headache. Ever the dramatic one. Heather would have been tempted to snap at him for obnoxiously drawing the suspense out, but thankfully Amber was faster and more patient. "Uh, mind sharing?" The Pegasus cautiously prodded, now giving her friend a hesitant glance-over. Arctic's wide blue eyes flashed back into focus and he began wildly gesturing with his hooves- "Okay listen- I have this friend in Canterlot whose cousin went to Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns with this other guy, right-" "The friend of a friend's cousin." Amber repeated, and oh, Heather recognized that tone as the filly already being half-done with the conversation. Bless her. "Easy to follow. Carry on." "No, seriously listen!" Arctic hissed quietly, and for the first time since Heather had met the silver Earth Pony, he actually looked like he was being serious. "My friend told me this story about how apparently, Princess Star Chime got pulled out of school for completely thrashing that cousin's friend! Said there was blood and teeth everywhere and she beat the poor guy until he was begging on the floor!" Heather could feel her visible eye nearly bug out of its socket. "And they tried to let someone like THAT come HERE?!" she near shrieked. Her friends were lucky that she had already spent her vocal cords not too long ago. "It IS the School of Friendship. Guess they were hoping to make her less punchy." He muttered out one of his wisecracks. Heather's head was whirling too much for her to admonish it. How close had she just come to being battered into a stain on the grass? Wait...actually- "Okay, but why are we only just now hearing about this?" Amber, ever a kindred spirit, inquired the very same disbelief in her own mind. "The newspapers would have blown up over a royal scandal like that!" Heather agreed. And if she had possessed this knowledge just a little earlier, maybe she would have treaded just a bit more carefully. At the very least, she would have been able to figure out a way to use it to her advantage... "Well for one, it was like, two years ago... and apparently not a lot of ponies got to witness the attack. But-" Arctic leaned his head in, head whisking about in search of eavesdroppers before dropping his voice even lower. "It sounded like Celestia and Luna covered the whole thing up and made everyone involved agree to keep the information private. So most of the public has no idea what happened, but obviously whispers managed to slip through a few mouths in upper Canterlot..." "Wow..." Heather whispered. Yeah. That was probable. The princesses

had the power. And while Heather knew anyone else would have been a little frightened over the influence their rulers had, whether for the sake of a nation or for their own means...Heather herself was sort of amazed. As if she could actually blame them for going to such lengths to conceal the shame that girl would have brought to their exalted family otherwise. "But even before that!" Arctic swiftly continued. "Apparently the kids at the school were already dubbing her the 'Delinquent Princess' behind her back! My friend's cousin never knew why until...y'know." "Delinquent Princess." Amber repeated back. "What a...stupid name." 'And I think it's fitting...' Heather was tempted to add but miraculously toned her spite down. "...I mean Ithoughtitsoundedbadass- but only because I thought the whole story was just some elaborate rumor!!" Arctic threw up his hooves. "I didn't think someone from the royal family could be that crazy, yet here we are! So don't talk like it's nothing but made-up gossip after what just happened!"

"...you're not wrong." Amber muttered, and her wing pulled Heather closer into her side. The earth filly welcomed the warmth, though she didn't like the look of discomfort on her friend's face. "In other words, we're talking about violent habits. And from a princess of Equestria...that's awful." "Yep. She is. But let's stop talking about her for now" Heather muttered, feeling both sets of eyes fall on her. The more she heard, the more that resentment deep within her grew. And the more that grew, the more her temples ached beyond the limits of what she was willing to deal with. "I think I'd like that ice pack right about now." "Oh crap, right!" Arctic jumped, urgently motioning for the fillies to walk ahead while he kept the rear. "Got a little carried away. We'll stick around until Twilight gets back!" "Yeah. Twilight did say it'd take a while." With a comforting smile, Amber Shine squeezed Heather's shoulder with her wing feathers. "I say it a million times, but just as a reminder; we've got you, girl." And she appreciated the encouragement. She really did. But Heather found it incredibly hard to muster more than a ghost of a smile when she found her legs on autopilot while her mind was elsewhere. 'Stop talking about her" she'd said. Yet she couldn't even bring her own brain to shut up. When it came to the very thought of that Unicorn princess, ugly green thorns never stopped digging their way into her ribcage. But after today... Heather's inner snarl rang with unconcealed bitterness, louder than ever before. 'How? How does someone like her get to be a princess?'

_________________________________________

Officially introducing Star Chime! Daughter of Luna, sister of Prince Amadeus, and youngest royal of the five royal Equestrian children (Princess Flurry Heart, Princess Lumina, Prince Amadeus, Prince Nova Spark, and Princess Star Chime, in that order)! Though by youngest, she's probably a year or two younger than Nova Spark.

I'm excited that she's ready to officially be a part of the cast!! I've considered her and Dream Flow the future main protagonists of present-day story. One day she'll meet her partner in crime. One day...

Also, very fun to write a chapter exploring Heather's psyche! In no way am I advocating for violence against misbehaving kids, by the way. I know people will see this as Heather "getting what she deserves" - and wanting to see karma get her is valid - but just know the purpose of this chapter wasn't me trying to take pleasure in physically "punishing" this kid, back when she was a youth with very misguided values. Just wanted that to be clear!

#mlp #mlp art #mlp oc #My Liittle Pony #Heather Tart Reed #Star Chime #Princess Luna #Twilight Sparkle #destinyverse #story

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silhouetteofacedar · 4 years ago

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When We Drive, Ch. 12: Getting Out of the Car

Previous Chapter - AO3 link - MSR, rated M

U.S. Route 70, Otero County, New Mexico

May 23, 2002

They’re on the run.

As far as Mulder and Scully know, the FBI believes they were disposed of in the bombing of the pueblo; reduced to dust and ash. Invisible as individual grains of sand scattered across the desert.

They’ve been driving nonstop for the past few days.

Mulder stops the car to stretch his legs and urinate discretely into some brush. He returns to the vehicle to see that Scully has their map spread open on the hood of the car, her brow furrowed as she squints down at the continental United States. Her hair is longer these days, pouring over her shoulders like molten copper. Even after all they’ve been through, the sight of her still makes his heart stutter.

He walks around to the front of the car, stooping down a little to wrap his arms around her waist. He presses a slow kiss into her cheek. “How’s the map looking?” he asks, nuzzling her ear.

“It depends on where we’re headed,” she replies.

He looks down at her, awash in the early evening sun, red hair blazing. Freckles are blooming on her nose and cheekbones, and he makes a mental note to kiss each one later when they’re in bed for the night. “California,” he decides. “I want to see you in the Pacific.”

“It’s been a long, long time,” she says softly, glancing up and behind her to meet his eyes. “I want to taste the ocean again.”

“Then it’s decided,” he declares, giving her a squeeze before letting go and walking around to the driver’s side of the car. He gives the left front tire a kick. “Pressure’s low in this one,” he notes. “Remind me to add some air at the next gas station.”

She hums in reply. “I’ll add that to our supply list,” she says, folding the map again and climbing back into the SUV. “You’re almost out of sunflower seeds.”

They continue west.

“We’re not far from White Sands,” Mulder muses. “Missiles. Cover-ups. Secrets. Our old bread and butter.”

“Mm,” Scully hums in reply. “Can’t say I’ll miss them.”

A dark chasm forms in Mulder’s stomach. “I’m sorry,” he says softly. “For bringing you into all this. I’m sorry every damn day, thinking about what you’ve lost.”

“Mulder, don’t negate my choices,” she replies steadily. “We’ve both lost things along the way. And I’m here with you now by my own choice.”

“Scully,” he says softly.

“I mean it,” she says earnestly. “But… promise me one thing,” she says, watching the ruddy landscape fade in the setting sun.

“Anything,”

“Promise me you will never leave me again. I can’t lose you a third time. I won’t.” He glances at her, sees her eyes starting to water. “I buried you, I watched you leave again, I let go of our child-“

“Dana,” he implores in barely above a whisper.

“-And I know why it all had to happen. I understand. But never fucking again.” Tears are streaming down her face now, and Mulder’s heart bleeds beneath his worn t-shirt. He reaches a hand out to her, and she clasps it in both of hers, pressing kisses to his dirty fingers. “I don’t care how far you plan to go; I’m coming with you. ‘Entreat me not to leave you, or to turn back from following after you; For wherever you go, I will go; and wherever you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God.’ That’s from the book of Ruth, and it’s how I feel about you. There is divinity in love, Mulder,” she whispers. “And I see it in you. So don’t you dare leave me.”

Mulder feels his hands tremble. “I- I have guilt, Scully. It follows me. It’s been there since the day Samantha was taken and I haven’t been able to shake it yet.”

“I know,” Scully says softly, clutching his hand to her chest. “And I can’t fix you. But I’ll be here,” she promises. “I’ll always be here.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers.

“Yes you do,” Scully declares softy. “You do. I say so.”

They drive until night bleeds across the sky, stars poking through the blanket of darkness. Mulder pulls over on the side of the highway.

“Trade with me? We have another hour and my eyes are getting all blurry,” he yawns.

They both exit the car, paths crossing at the front of the vehicle. Scully reaches out and pulls Mulder into a hug, and he suddenly feels raw and in danger of letting himself dissolve into tears, melting into the sandy asphalt beneath their feet.

“Mulder,” Scully soothes, seemingly sensing the tension in him. She draws back slightly. “Look at me.”

Her face is cast in shadows, illuminated on the edges by the car’s running lights. “We’re going forward,” she says simply.

Mulder takes a deep breath and nods. He leans down and presses a kiss to her upturned face. It’s an act of worship, genuflection at the only altar he’ll ever kneel before.

“I swear to you,” he whispers across her lips. “I swear.”

#my fic #when we drive #txf fic #xfiles #msr #the truth #It's Done Babes Can You Believe

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calpops · 4 years ago

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falling facade | c.h.

part one: falling flowers

A friendly date with Calum’s best friend’s sister was not supposed to tailspin into a night of blurry secrets and uncertain feelings. And yet, there was no telling of the fleeting taste of sugar and the warmth of being with each other. There was no denying all that lingered between them. And consequently, there was no escaping all of the repercussions and mixed emotions the night created.

5k words

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The party was verging on completion when Calum finally worked his way over to her; he had spotted her almost immediately after entering the yard. He almost didn’t recognize her after years of change and distance. She sat alone on the grass, back to the house with a bottle leaning against her leg. Music was becoming a background noise as the glitzy house party began to wither away. Calum approached her slowly and kneeled down, his own drink settling on the grass. Her head was tilted back, gazing up at the stars in a silent introspection. Calum knew she was aware of his presence; the slight shift in her position offering him a spot by her side. He took it without a word and pressed his back to the siding of the house just like her; let his eyes wander up as he cleared his throat.

“Hey, short stuff,” he began with; the old nickname coming off his lips in a teasing manner as it always had.

“You know I hate being called that,” she answered as she always used to. “Ever since we were kids.”

Calum nodded though she couldn’t see it, her gaze still captured by constellations. He let out a breath as his hand hovered over his drink and his eyes skirted down to hers. It was nearly empty and he couldn’t help but wonder how many she’d already had. His hand abandoned his cup in favor of settling on his lap.

“And I’ll have you know I hit my growth spurt since I last saw you,” she defended as she finally turned to catch eyes with him.

Dark hazel eyes were unblinking and unfazed. She had changed over the years, but her unflinching ability to hold eye contact stayed the same. Calum remembered her in hazy moments. Michael’s sister was sifted into the background of many memories. Now she was a thought at the forefront as Calum arched an eyebrow and took up the bait of banter.

“Yeah, how much did you grow? An inch?” He asked as she sighed with pouted lips and eyes that told him he was a fool.

“Two, actually,” she corrected in such a matter of fact voice Calum couldn’t argue; or continue to use his nickname against her.

“Alright. Arden it is then,” he conceded and though the name was foreign on his tongue after years of not using it the slight smirk on her face made him want to continue the practice. “How has Arden been lately?”

She gave him a pointed look and a smirk but shrugged, a forced nonchalance taking over. She picked at an imaginary loose thread on her striped pants as her feet wiggled and she figured out how she had been doing. Calum gave her time to think it over, craving an honest answer.

“I’d say I’ve been doing okay in some aspects,” she replied and shrugged again. “Maybe not as okay in others. I’m no famous rock star, that’s for sure.”

Calum bit back a sarcastic laugh at her last comment but let the reality of her words before wrap around him. Okay and not as okay. She was a conundrum, a kaleidoscope point of view; this and that all at once. Calum suddenly wanted to see from her eyes, see the shifting lenses and the light and reflections of how okay and how not okay she was.

“Last I knew you were off in Italy somewhere, what brought you all the way out here?” He asked, hoping that maybe Italy and her reasons for visiting were a part of the okay aspects.

Arden shifted, turning so her weight was on one leg and knees were bent and she could face Calum fully. She reached for the bottle she was nursing and took the last small sip from it before putting it aside and pursing her lips in thought.

“Michael didn’t tell you?”

Calum shook his head; confusion clear in the motion. He couldn’t remember Michael mentioning why his sister was here; just that she would be around for a while. He could jump to conclusions and assumptions. A visit finally due after years of evading the city. Needing a favor. Missing her brother. None seemed plausible enough to bring the ever unattainable woman to a standstill in a city she seemingly hated and avoided at all costs. She had travelled the world; studied abroad and backpacked through countries Calum had only ever flew over or saw through airport windows. Yet she steered clear of the place Michael had made a home. And evidentially, that meant she steered clear of Calum.

“A wedding. It’s actually in Vegas but I knew I’d catch hell if I came all this way and didn’t pay him a visit,” she explained and Calum could sense tension in her words.

He’d settle for that explanation; for now. It was thin and terse and he could tell there was much more to it than that. But he was never one for pushing. Time would do the telling much easier than she would. Or Michael, possibly, if Calum asked in the right way. The mood was darkening in a way he didn’t want; a frown cutting across her face as they sat in silence for a moment.

“You didn’t tell me you’re getting married,” Calum joked, hoping his words would lighten the conversation.

He was rewarded when she laughed, but it was all taken back when she sobered and an unknown sadness captured her eyes. It was fleeting; there and gone in an instant. Shying away from the not okay as she reeled herself back in from scattered patterns of shadows.

“Not my wedding,” she said with a slight eye roll and smile; an attempt to follow his lead of lighting up the mood. “It’s pathetic enough I’m showing up to this wedding by myself. Be even worse if I was alone at my wedding. It’s too bad I don’t even have a friend to go with me.”

Calum let out a sarcastic huff and tried to ignore the speculative gaze she now looked at him with. When she didn’t look away and he could see the gears turning—already knowing the thoughts playing in her mind from just one look—he began to shake his head.

“No,” he said before she could say anything else. “No, I’m not gonna be your date.”

The words felt heavy. Heavy enough to sink to the bottom of his stomach and churn. Heavy enough to make him look away from her pleading gaze.

“Oh come on,” she said, voice verging on cracking. “I never ask you for anything.”

“I never ask you for anything either. It’s worked so far. Let’s keep it that way,” he said, words quick to defend his no though his mind wasn’t so sure about it.

When she went silent Calum felt a pull to turn back, heart heavier and faster in its rhythmic beats. Her eyes were now downcast, hands in the grass as fingers tugged on blades and slow breaths escaped her. He was almost certain she was calming herself, as if the situation was enough to make her cry. To make her not okay. Calum felt himself regretting his no as she looked up at him with shining eyes. He stole himself and licked his lips.

“Why don’t you ask Ashton? He likes Vegas.”

“He’s busy,” Arden mumbled and Calum gave her an incredulous look.

“So I’m just your back up then?” He feigned outrage but dropped the act when she seemingly didn’t want to play along.

“I figured you’d say no. I was stupid to even mention it,” she said, trying to wave away the situation as she leaned back against the house, finding the stars once more. “It’d just be nice to have someone I’m comfortable with there. A little moral support.”

“It’s just a wedding, Arden, you’ll be fine,” Calum murmured though he wasn’t sure of his own words.

He’d never seen her like this before. Admittedly, he didn’t spend much time with her alone, ever, but of the memories he was bringing back in none held such weighted words and somber tones. Arden shook her head and emptied her hands of the grass she had pulled up. They drifted off in a sudden breeze and Calum pulled his jacket a bit tighter around him. The night air was cool and he wondered how Arden was fairing in a tank top.

“It’s just a wedding, you’ll be fine,” she repeated and grabbed for her bottle but dropped it when she remembered it was empty. “You try saying that when the ones getting married are your best friend and your ex.”

Calum’s heart sank and stomach twisted; the revelation hitting him hard. He couldn’t imagine that, couldn’t fathom what she must be feeling. She turned back to him and bit her lip.

“Don’t go,” Calum suggested but he knew it would fall on deaf ears.

“That’d be worse than showing up alone.”

“Bring Michael,” he said and even he couldn’t hold back laughter.

“You really just want to embarrass me, huh?” She asked with blazing cheeks and a disapproving shake of the head. “The only thing worse than showing up alone or not showing up at all is showing up with a sibling. I’ll just go by myself.”

They lapsed into silence and Calum took a moment to think, to feel, to see things from her perspective. She went motionless; no wiggle of her feet, no picking at threads or plucking at blades of grass. Her gaze left him and focused on the fence separating property lines in front of them. His heart was pounding hard and fast, eyes burning at just the thought of her situation. Of Arden having to face all of that alone. Of being the one to let her down. His mind was already made up when she spoke again.

“You know, the reception has an open bar. And it’s Vegas. We can ditch as soon as possible; go gamble or drink our woes away.”

“You had me at the open bar,” Calum said though that was a lie. She had him with her glossy eyes and a truth that must have been painful to admit. “As long as Michael’s okay with it.”

Arden smiled, the woes already washing away and being replaced by shining stars twinkling in her eyes. She leaned in closer, barely a breath away.

“Thank you,” her lips nearly brushed his cheek as her whisper carried to him.

Calum warmed at the almost kiss and watched as she slowly stood, eyes searching the remnants of the party. In their conversation more people had fled, the music had been low to begin with but was nonexistent by the time Calum was pulled back.

“I’ll go tell Michael now,” she decided and began to take off in search of him, but turned back to Calum with a smirk. “We leave tomorrow. At five.”

Calum let out a breath and watched her go. He’d be ready. Waiting. Curious and taken by his best friend’s sister’s sudden reappearance and the mysteries that followed her. She’d been evasive for years, as soon as the band took off so did she. Keeping her distance and the answers to mysteries with her.

***

“I don’t know how you suckered me into not only going, but into driving,” Calum mumbled as he switched lanes.

They’d been in the car a while already but the situation was still perplexing to Calum. The road to Vegas wasn’t long in retrospect; for all the time he spent in tour busses and on planes a four hour drive was minimal. But, he was still dumbfounded at the fact he was behind the wheel. Arden’s art of persuasion had grown in the years they were apart.

“I don’t know my way out of California,” she offered and Calum could see from the corner of his eye the way she stretched out in her seat, legs wiggling in her attempt to get comfortable. ”Besides, we’re in Michael’s Tesla, it’s not like you really have to drive if you don’t want to.”

“I still have to be alert and in control. I don’t trust self driving cars,” Calum rebutted and then thought for a moment, a new question suddenly striking him. “If it wasn’t enough you got me to drive, how the hell did you get Michael to let us take his car?”

Calum spared a complete glance her way for just a second, just to see the smile on her face and the way her nose scrunched up.

“Laid the sweetness on thick. Begged, even. Said I’d tell mum on him,” she answered with a giggle.

“You did not.” Calum bellowed out a laugh, suddenly transported to a time where that threat was very real.

If Michael wouldn’t let her play video games with them. If they teased her just a little too much. Got caught spying or reading her journal. A threat of telling always followed. Sometimes tears, but always a threat.

“No. He was nice enough to say yes after a little bit of a puppy dog pout and about thirty minutes of begging.”

Calum straightened and tapped his fingers on the console. “You know I have a car we could’ve taken.”

“Sure,” she said quickly and clipped. “But it’s not as cool as a Tesla.”

“My car is cool,” Calum defended with a staunch expression.

Arden reached over and patted his hand lightly, as if comfortingly, the contact a bit odd; hardly ever having been so casual in those encounters. Not since an almost brush of her lips against his cheek as a thank you last night. And rarely before that.

“Whatever you say.”

The rest of the drive was quiet between them even though Calum had hundreds of questions filtering through his thoughts. He didn’t want to ask when his focus was on the road. He wanted to be able to fully gauge her reactions to them, note if her eyes averted his gaze or her words were tight and said between her teeth. He wanted to know the truths. So instead they listened to music. Her playlist was moody; darker themes carrying the lyrics and heavy instrumentation creating the songs. He felt that maybe there was something to understand there. He often found that music spoke louder than words.

By the time they got to the hotel exhaustion from the drive was winning over. Calum was able to secure his own room last minute; coincidentally and perhaps luckily, across the hall from Arden. With another odd form of contact—an unsure hug that lasted mere seconds—they bid each other good night. Calum stumbled into his room, peeled off his pants and shirt and fell into bed; half dreading the next day and half anticipating his time with Arden. It took him a while to fall asleep, usually he knocked out as soon as his head hit the pillow. But there were too many thoughts and memories swirling through his mind.

Morning came in a rush. It took Calum no time at all to get ready for the wedding; merely showering and throwing on a suit. He wandered across the hall when he was done, wondering if Arden could use some company while she got ready, wondering if she might answer his questions in the meantime. The door swung open after the first knock. Arden stood before him in a bathrobe, hair in a towel and face clean of makeup.

“You’re not even close to being ready, are you?” Calum asked as she moved aside to let him in.

“Ten minutes,” she declared and shut the door before stalking off to the attached bathroom.

Calum was fully prepared for ten minutes to be twenty or thirty or even an hour. He couldn’t ask questions between the walls of the hotel and the obnoxious noise of an old hair dryer blasting on what he assumed was high. He was settled into a chair shoved in the corner, the muted curtains dominating the wall were pulled open just enough for some natural light to spill through and play against the patterns on the carpet. Before Calum could pull his phone out to kill time the hair dryer was shut off and Arden came stalking through the room, headed for her bag on the bed. She was quick in grabbing what she needed; a pair of shoes and something else Calum couldn’t quite make out. Her hair was dry and fell softly down her back; chestnut brown lightening from the sun. Arden looked over at Calum, a bite of a smirk on her lips as she backed away from her bag.

“Five minutes,” she updated with a promise and now Calum was apt to believe her.

When five minutes blew by and all was silent Calum stood from his chair; curious if five was turning to ten. He approached the bathroom door slowly; it was wide open and Arden stood dressed and ready. A red silk dress was heavenly against her skin and Calum wondered if maybe it was too much for a wedding; surely upstaging the bride—but then, for a moment, he considered that no matter what she wore no one else would compare. The dress was short but the Vegas heat provided reason for that. Her hair was now up but loose tendrils framed her face. Painted red lips were quivering and her face had gone flush; hands gripped the lip of the counter so tight her knuckles were visibly whitening. She looked up and caught Calum’s eye in the mirror; detached herself from the counter and moved to him with stiff motions.

“I’m ready,” she whispered with tight words and now shaking hands.

Calum wasn’t sure what led him to placing his hands on her shoulders—another form of touch they had never been comfortable enough to do—or why it was starting to feel so natural. He didn’t understand the way she responded, letting out a breath as if her worries were easing. Only when she locked gazes with him did he speak up and realize how hard this truly was for her.

“You know, we don’t have to go if you aren’t okay,” Calum offered; his sincerity on his sleeve and in his gaze.

Arden shook her head. “No, no. I’m fine. Just a little nervous; I didn’t drag you all the way out here for nothing.”

“Well, it is Vegas. We could just go gamble or drink,” Calum repeated her words back near verbatim and it earned him a smile.

“After,” she said with a decisive head nod and moved away from Calum’s touch and to the door.

He watched her turn her confidence on as they walked to the chapel and then saw it crash and plummet upon entering and having to decide between the bride or groom’s side. Posing as her date left the opportunity to hold her hand open; to give her some comfort while being authentic and playing the part. Her palm was warm and her fingers gave him an appreciative squeeze, and while Calum didn’t notice during that particular moment he responded by running his thumb along the back of her hand soothingly. As if by instinct.

“Guess we’ll go to Viv’s side, at least she didn’t dump me,” Arden mumbled and Calum felt shock tingle up his spine as she led the way to a pair of seats.

The mysteries of Arden’s past were presenting themselves in small offhanded sentences. In queried answers that were tight and hard to swallow. It was almost as if the more Calum found out the less he wanted to know. Yet he needed to; he needed to figure out the okays and not so okays.

Through the ceremony Calum’s gaze kept wandering over to Arden; noting the way she shifted uncomfortably, letting her whisper in his ear as the bridal court walked down the aisle. Her whisper of at least she didn’t ask me to be a bridesmaid, those dresses are hideous making him smirk as he knew she was attempting to cover her pain with humor. He kept his hand in hers and although they’d never done something such as that—possibly the closest being a high five as kids—it felt almost normal as time passed. And in the midst of the vows; generic words that made Calum roll his eyes, he realized there was more to Arden’s world than he realized. He couldn’t picture her ever dating the man at the altar. Simply put, and only ever said in Calum’s mind, he looked like a douche. Like his name was Chad or Justin or something of the sort. The ceremony became a blur to Calum by the time they were at the reception; the promise of an open bar looming past the dance floor.

If Calum hadn’t been holding Arden’s hand he would have lost her in the crowd. She moved with graceful steps past people in their way. The venue was dark but lit with flashing lights. It felt more like a house party than a wedding reception to Calum but the loud drone of music drowned out the chatter of people he didn’t know. The dark provided an escape for Arden as she managed to wrangle them through the crowd and into the shadows. They stopped just short of the bar, tucked into a corner where eyes couldn’t find them and she could catch her breath. Calum could sense it was becoming harder for her, that the ceremony had done her in and the first dance was more than enough to keep her there.

“Want to dance?” Calum asked before he even knew the words were in his mind. His hand was held out to her and in the moment he rationalized it would be a good distraction. Arden bit her lip as she contemplated.

“I didn’t think you were one for dancing,” she said but took his hand nonetheless.

“Guess you don’t really know me.”

“Not anymore,” Arden said and Calum felt the weight of those words.

As he pulled her closer and onto the dance floor the distance they’d had between them for years became more apparent. They were never particularly close growing up, but they’d been in each other’s orbits long enough to know one another. He realized in a mournful way the Calum she knew was still a shy teenager with dreams bigger than his mind could allow at the time. She knew someone who was uncertain and still trying to find a path to follow. A boy with a choice and no right or wrong answers. And he knew her to keep eye contact with volition but blush at the drop of a dime. Teeming with wanderlust but having nowhere to go. A girl with too many contradictions. Time had changed them and any fragment of what they once knew had blown away in years worth of winds.

The music had shifted to something slower, the lights easing with the song to glows scattered across the floor. Calum’s hands settled around her waist; with a light touch and questioning look to ask if it was okay. She communicated that it was by settling her hands on his shoulders. They found a rhythmic sway to the music even though their bodies were a bit stiff at another new form of contact. It took a few moments to warm up and relax. Calum explored her eyes, how dark they were against the glare of white lights. He had questions and now—while they were so close—seemed the best time to start asking.

“When did you even meet them?” He asked, referring to Viv and Chad or Justin or whatever his name was.

A timid and sorrowful smile captured Arden’s lips. He hoped the question wasn’t too much, wanting to avoid another glossy eyed or white knuckled incident. She sighed and Calum felt her hold on his shoulders shift slightly but stay present. He expected her to drop her hold, to fall into silence or turn and walk away. Arden was full of surprises.

“When I was studying abroad. Viv was my roommate and at the time my best friend. I dated Brett until my second year,” she explained.

Brett Calum mused, somehow, that was even worse than being a Chad or a Justin. He realized she kept the details to a minimum but held eye contact; Calum knowing it was the truth. A small bit of the truth that left more questions circling his mind but he was patient; willing to wait for her, knowing there was more than meets the eye.

Arden’s lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed as she thought back to a time he really didn’t understand. Her eyes were contemplative and Calum found himself diving back into them. Her gaze flickered and the lighting played against deep hazel and made it nearly golden for just a moment. He noted the way she squinted when lost in thought and was floored at the sudden panic that captured her now frantic stare. Her line of sight was past his shoulder. It had him turning, catching the bride and groom passing by. It must have been shocking for her; speaking of them in small and painful fragmented words in a world where their lives were intertwined. And now she was an outcast; seeing her old best friend in white with her ex at her side—looking as happy as a couple could be. Without thinking, without inhibitions, he pulled her closer and without hesitation she reciprocated; tucked her head against his chest and let her arms slide down and wrap around him. He felt her body ease against his, could almost hear the breath escaping her over the boom of the music.

Calum’s heart was racing, body buzzing and electrified but the world was in slow motion. The sound of the music faded and all he could hear was the thump of his heartbeat; wondered if she could hear it too. Surely, with her head to his heart she could hear and feel it as well. He chalked it up to the moment. Everything was just a little bit too much. The song was too slow and the lights were too dim and they were too close. The moment was too intimate and it left his reactions skewed. He was susceptible to the influence of everything around them. That’s what he told himself when his hands found the small of her back and his head dipped down, an intoxicating and now familiar scent of honey and peaches finding its way to him.

Arden pulled back and looked up. The heels she wore put them nearly at eye level. And once again Calum found himself moving without thinking, pushing a strand of fallen hair behind her ear and letting his fingers linger and trace down her jawline. She was quiet but Calum swore she moved into his touch. The thought of who they were and who they are entered his mind but it was fleeting. Titles such as best friend’s sister became meaningless in a darkened moment with minimal space between them. This time, with nothing but thoughts accompanying his movements Calum leaned forward; painstakingly slowly with minute movements, giving Arden time to think as well. Maybe his thoughts weren’t all together and rational and maybe he was under the influence of their surroundings and maybe she was too close for any other thought to break through. There were a lot of maybes that made up the moment she closed the distance and red lip stain graced Calum’s lips. It was demure and brief but somehow Calum felt audacious and that time itself had stopped to allow it. His mind was spinning with senses of Arden he’d never known before. She tasted of sugar and left him in an airy free fall.

All too soon it was over. Calum cleared his throat and Arden blinked rapidly. They both came back to reality and a silent understanding of it never happened and it doesn’t count—both separately convinced of the influence of the atmosphere—settled between them. Arden went back to resting her head against his chest and Calum’s hold drifted back down. The music had picked up in tempo but another understanding of we’re fine the way we are slowed the music and the world and with eyes closed the flashing lights didn’t matter. Calum still felt like he was falling; completely winded and not sure he’d ever land or what would be waiting for him if he did. He found himself lost in the moment and sifting through memories; moments in which Michael had mentioned Arden in the years he hadn’t seen her. He was trying to piece her together and hold them together, another sorrowful feeling tugging at his chest as he realized all of the circumstances. That little title in his mind ringing alarm bells he found jolting. He drowned them out in favor of pulling her just a bit closer.

The music cut out and the world made room for a bridal tradition that had Arden on edge. Her grip on Calum tightened at the announcement and a nervous bounce had her shifting weight from leg to leg. In a matter of moments the bouquet would go flying and land in the hands of the person to be married next. A crowd formed around the bride and Arden looked away.

“How about… we go get a drink,” Calum suggested, wanting to take her away from the scene unfolding before them. Wanting to mend whatever pain and heartache she may be feeling.

She nodded.

“How about two? And then we leave.”

Calum followed her lead, quick steps carrying them away from the situation. He heard the drop. Turned to see a bouquet of flowers landed where their feet had been moments ago; Arden luckily oblivious to the unlikely affair. He turned and picked up their pace, wanting to avoid the rush of people trying to find the tradition. Wanting to put plenty of distance between them and falling flowers.

<< >>

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jcsters · 1 year ago

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She only laughed it off, slight shrug of her shoulders. "It's summer, though! Plus, I'm like, right by the beach - it was really soothing, actually, like having a white noise machine right behind you. It's like camping! But no bears - which is only a little disappointing. I think I would be able to hug a bear." Forgetting that Analu was suffering - because Myria stayed in a perpetual state of intoxicated, and thus rarely dealt with a real hangover - her voice had gone back to its normal levels of just slightly too loud. "Oh! I think I saw that! I mean, like - honestly? Truthfully? I think it's like, more power to her. I hope she's like - owning it. Sometimes you just like lose yourself, right? I've totally been in like - kinda similar scenarios. Mostly when I lived in LA - but that's like, almost normal for LA, honestly."

Her eyes widened wondering if she heard correctly. "You slept outside? Nature is nice, but not that nice." Well, at least Analu managed to make it home, not that she remembered how, but nonetheless she woke up in her own bed. "I imagine it was fun. I was going to get on the bull, but then someone had a little too much fun with it." She scrunched up her nose at the thought.

#––– ❛ replies 【 little blurry stars scattered all across. 】#c:ana luiza severo da silva #alcoholism implied tw

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hyunhour · 4 years ago

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in the A.M ] [ minho au

a/n: i wrote this while listening to sunshine - skz and i recommend doing so as well or bonnie and clyde - dean works too! i’m not good at writing fluff (?) but whatever i just really wanted to write one about minho and this whole vibe fit him so well :p for fictional purposes only! enjoy c:

tsundere!minho, stoner!au, fem!reader x minho fluff, slight angst

tw: mentions of drinking, drugs & smoking

word count: 1.6k words> Life had always been a blur. You were always high off into the sky, drinking like your life depended on it, surrounding yourself with guys who shared the same interests as you. The only thing (or person) that kept you sober for a moment, your only escape from reality without getting high, was Minho himself.

The night breeze danced around you, sweeping strays of your hair behind your exposed shoulders. The weird concocted smell of nicotine, weed and hard liquor poisoned you each time you inhaled a deep breath, coursing through your veins. You were sprawled across some random person’s rooftop, with your best friends. You were all each chasing your own individual high, in desperate attempt to escape from the reality that had bound us all to so much misery.

The blunt that you were smoking had long burnt out, it still rested between your fingers, that laid above your tummy. You felt a lean arm snake around your waist, pulling you in. Another arm, a bit more muscular, found it’s way around your shoulders as it tried to prevent you from going to the opposing side. You let your body be tamed by the two selfish boys, as they grumbled in return, playing their own tug-of-war with you in the middle.

“Hands off, Hyunjin.” you hear Jisung almost practically growl in your ear, and you found him nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“Back off, Han. Can’t you see she enjoys it more with me?” Hyunjin’s words were slurred, but that was expectant of him of course, after smoking from the multiple bongs that Changbin had prepared. He was in his own state of inebriated stupor, mumbling some other incoherent words before planting small kisses on your earlobes.

You simply laughed, which eased the tension between the two of them. They let out their own stifled chuckles right after, giggling away. They were too engrossed in their own state of euphoria, as their senses had been heightened a lot.

“It’s..” you pondered, each arm of yours were wrapped around each boy, and your fingers found themselves trying to tame their tendrils that danced in the breeze. “..good to share.” you finished, a smug smirk finding its’ way up to your face. You absolutely adored how these guys tried to establish their ownership on you_. It was cute actually_, thinking that they had you for themselves, when they were the ones wrapped around your fingers effortlessly.

A chorus of “mhm’s” and “ugh’s” followed after your statement. They fell into silence after a while, slumber enwrapping their figures that intertwined with yours.

You felt a pair of eyes burning a hole straight right at you, and you almost instinctively knew who it was. You only barely managed to peel away your eyes from the starry night sky, your vision still as blurry as ever.

But how could you miss that stunning face that had its’ eyes on you, and only you? Minho.

His bottom lip jutted out, and the strays of moonlight illuminated the perfect facial features of his. All the way from tip of his nose bridge, his prominent cheekbones and jawline, and milky white pale skin. He looked absolutely ethereal. He ran a hand through his unkempt brown hair, his shaggy bangs falling into place right above his eyebrows. His eyes were hooded, filled with so much blackness, that it reflected close to nothing.

“Slut.” he mouthed.

Your lips parted agape in shock, but it wasn’t as unsurprising coming from Minho. He took every chance to nitpick at you coupled with his incessant insults and never seemed to acknowledge anything good about you. It hurt at first, but you soon came to terms with it by flinging the same insults at him, if not worse. You weren’t intimidated no longer, instead felt more challenged.

Your grin only grows wider as you pull the two guys by your sides closer, and the two of them gladly obliged as they closed off all space between your body and theirs. Jisung still had his arm wrapped snug around your waist, his breath fanning against your neck. Hyunjin had his arm slung around your shoulders, his thumb rubbing small circles on the side of your clavicle.

You were quick to notice the hint of fury behind his solemn eyes, and it satisfied you to a certain extent to gain that sort of attention from him. He scoffed, rolling his eyes before lighting a new blunt and sitting back on his hands that propped him up.

Changbin was spread out on the rooftop with no care in the world, lost in his own humming of melodies while Felix laid atop his stomach, his fingers that were in the air, swayed to the tunes. Chan had been caught in his own deep slumber, curled up right next to Jeongin and Seungmin that were full of jittery laughter.

Everything seemed to fade out into white noise as your eyes looked only at Minho. He was no longer looking at you, which formed a pit at your stomach. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, so you brushed it off as your so called hatred for him. But you couldn’t deny the attractiveness of this man, he was the epitome of the beauty itself. He seemed to take notice of your eyes lingering on him, as his head whipped to your direction.

He lifted his index finger, motioning for you to come to his side. You were reluctant at first but it didn’t take you long to immediately snake out of the two boys’ holds, and come scurrying to Minho’s side.

A laugh escaped his small pink lips, his teeth barely showing through the small smile. You felt your heart flutter a bit, the butterflies in your stomach practically doing somersaults. “Fuck you.” was all you could say to him, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. You were so hell-bent on manipulating yourself that you hated this man, simply because you did not want to burst his inflated ego by further pumping it. It did the opposite of repel, you were only feeling more attracted to him than ever.

“Time and place, princess.” he replied nonchalantly, flashing a flirty wink. Gosh, you wished you could wipe off that stupid smirk of his. You slap his arm playfully, and he winces slightly, rubbing his exposed arm. The loose grey muscle tank he wore flashed his biceps, which he was so obviously flexing in front of you, not that you minded it anyway.

After a moment of exchanging weak laughters, he stopped abruptly. His eyes were now glued onto you, it was like something had overrun the darkness inside of them and replaced it with... brightness? You could’ve sworn they glimmered gold for a second, before settling down back into hues of dark brown. You breath hitched at the newfound sight of him.

“You’re so fucking dumb.” he says, inching closer to you. You found yourself backing up just a little, shocked by the close proximity you found yourself in with him.

“What?” you croaked, it barely came out as a whisper. Your heart was threatening to jump out of your throat, all of a sudden all you could hear was the thumping of your unsteady heart, his hot breath fanning against the front of your face. You watched his lips move, but you couldn’t seem to capture anything he was saying.

“So dense. I said I like you, fucking idiot.” he sighs, finally pulling away from being so close to you. You noticed the way his ears had immediately went red, although his facial expression remained stoic. How cute, he was trying so hard to be the arrogant guy everybody built him up as.

The confession didn’t settle in until moments later. You thought that it was your high finally enclosing you. Instead, your vision wasn’t as muddled as before. Your heart was physically thrumming against your ribs. The gloomy sky blended into a garish shade of blue, and scattered stars danced among it. You realized that his face wasn’t as pale as before, they were a light shade of pink now. You could see faint glimmers of stars in his eyes, from the reflections of light perhaps, but time seemed to be perfectly still as you admired his side profile. It looked like he held the universe in his eyes.

Everything was so much clearer and distinct. Like your feelings, that found it’s way out of the cage you kept them locked in, and flowed right out of your lips.

“Me too. I like you too, idiot.” you couldn’t help as the sides of your lips tugged upwards shakily, as his eyes met yours tentatively. He let out a furtive laugh, shaking his head. He patted your head before tussling it a little to annoy you. Why were you two dead set on avoiding each other’s feelings anyway? It seemed all silly now that you thought about it.

“Well fuck, what now?” he breathed, billows of smoke from his blunt overshadowing his face for a moment.

He put the fire out from the blunt by stubbing it onto the rooftop tile. The same cheeky smile was plastered onto his face as his arms were wide open for you. “Come here, princess.” he muttered, and you could have sworn that actual hyperactive butterflies were poking at the insides of your stomach at the new nickname he had for you. All you wanted to do was jump into his arms, and so you did. You tackled him to the ground, as both of you burst into fits of giggles.

Everything fell into place. You could no longer smell the nicotine, or whatever that lingered in the air around the both of you. All you smelt was him, his citrus scent mixed with a faint scent of cheap cologne, he smelt like, home. You found yourself in a newfound safety as his arms pulled you in closer, your racing heartbeat matching his as your head rested upon his chest. You felt his lips leave a peck on your forehead as he tucked the strays of hair behind your ear, leaving a tingling sensation that made you crave for more of his soft kisses.

You whimpered softly, snuggling in closer to his chest, basking in his warmth. It seemed like he understood your desperate pleas as he peppered small gentle kisses all over your face. They left a trail from your forehead, the tip of your nose, your eyes, your cheeks, and finally rested atop your lips. He was taking in every inch of you, worshipping the whole of your perfectly-sculpted figure and embraced you like you were fragile. To him, everything about you was perfect. He saw past the imperfections that you so stubbornly insisted upon. Sparks ignited from within you, and pure bliss melted into the entirety of your body, you were beginning to see white.

It all feels so perfect.

You’re all his now, and it’s fucking real.

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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You Know How They Say I Only Have Eyes for You? (Taywhora) - Spiritualcramp33

summary: WOOOO!! this is my first time uploading a fic here, so i hope you like it! I've been super obsessed with Taywhora recently and i have so many ideas, so hopefully you'll hear from me again soon^^

A'whora didn't know what the fuck was going on, and she couldn't find it in herself to care, either.

They'd been on a night out, but most of their friends had called cabs and left, leaving her and Tayce alone. They seemed to do that a lot, and perhaps it was intentional - it seemed as much, if Bimini's knowing smirk and snarky comments as they said their goodbyes were anything to go off of.

They'd ended up outside, A'whora being sat on the old, slightly deteriorated wooden bench just next to the pub's door, and her flatmate stood nearby having a smoke. She'd offered A'whora one, too, but she was sure that a combination of nicotine and alcohol would prove unhelpful to the hangover she was going to feel tomorrow morning.

A sound akin to tv static rung in her ears, and she watched as Tayce took a drag from her cigarette, and found herself a little too enticed by the way the smoke dissolved into the cold night as it seeped from her lips. They were slightly parted, and A'whora felt a pang of shame course through her veins at how kissable they looked.

As the smoke curled into the air, she could feel it fogging her brain - crawling into every crevice of her mind, embedding itself in her memory though A'whora tried so hard not to let it phase her. There was something about her friend that just felt so different, so unfamiliar yet so safe.

The sky was painted a deep and lifeless blue with no sign of even a single star, but A'whora took one dive into Tayce's eyes and figured that maybe she'd stolen them. They were glacial galaxies, clouds of emotion swirling around in a way that made it all too easy to read her thoughts, and there was a certain twinkle scattered throughout that looked like accidental flicks of white paint.

She thought, though, that nothing about the way the darker woman was made was accidental - she was absolutely ethereal in a way that made A'whora believe that she'd been hand crafted by the finest, a simple heaven consisting of a faint vanilla scent and strawberry chapstick and everything good in the world.

She knew her adoration was smothered all over her face - in her eyes, her smile, the crimson tint dusted across her usually pale cheeks - but she was tipsy on rum and coke and giddy on dumb romance, and with the way her thumped in her chest, she didn't think she could hide it if she tried.

She had to admit it stung, though - the affection seemed painfully unrequited. Sure, Tayce would laugh at A'whora's jokes, and sometimes on nights out they'd share a kiss or two, and sometimes she'd get all touchy in a way that she didn't with anyone else. But she reckoned those were just platonic, friendly things.

right?

"what're you thinking about, boo?"

Tayce's voice shattered the fragile fantasy she'd (once again) found herself indulging in, and the cold air of reality hit for the first time in forever, though it'd probably been around 7 minutes. She blinked away the remaining fragments of the thoughts that plagued her mind and thought of an appropriate reply that wouldn't be a blatant confession of her feelings.

"it's not like it matters"

Well. If A'whora planned on keeping it cool then she'd just fucked it right up, hadn't she? Smashed a bloody gaping hole into her stoic armour, her own voice so rich in vulnerability that it caused her to repress a shiver.

"'course it matters, rory. what's up?"

She let out a jagged breath at the pure concern in the other girl's voice - the words sounded as if they were coated in golden honey, pronounced in a way that could have her a puddle on the floor within minutes, but they were laced with such unwavering affection that A'whora was sure her blush was visible from a mile away.

If Tayce noticed, though, she didn't say anything. She simply watched, her gentle gaze analysing the blonde infront of her in a way that made A'whora sink back into her coat with insecurity.

"i don't know...I'm just-" her breath hitched. There were thousands of words to choose from, and she wanted to say all of them, yet every one she tried to say seemed to die in her throat. It felt as if her blood had turned to stone.

Her mind trailed as she entertained the notion, and she wondered what it'd look like. An ants nest of veins, perhaps, grey and dull but in an almost poetic way - she thought that it would be the rawest form of vulnerability possible, and she thought that maybe her love for the brunette ran so deep that even just the way the veins connected and branched out like spiderwebs was telling enough.

"you're just..?"

"I'm just tired" the words escaped without a second thought, mingling with the air. She studied the other girl's expression with reluctant curiosity, anticipation dancing in her own eyes as she waited for her friend's response.

"of what?"

Sobriety hit like a brick to a glass house when Tayce's jaw tightened. A malicious dread pricked at her heart and she was rendered silent for a while, her eyelashes fluttering as she opted to look at the cold, wet ground instead.

Neither spoke, yet there seemed to be a mutual understanding that some things were better left unsaid.

"we should go home. will you book a cab?"

A'whora's head felt fuzzy as she stepped through the door into her apartment, tayce following suit shortly after. She tossed her bag to the side nonchalantly, the contents rattling as they hit the floor in a way that caused the blonde to flinch.

She had rushed upstairs before Tayce could even comprehend what was happening, quickly removing her makeup and falling onto her bed with a defeated sigh. She felt like shit - it was as if ants were crawling around beneath her skin.

Her brain was putty, no, liquid thoughts, and they swirled around in her head in a way that was deafening but also so, so inexplicably quiet - so much so that they began to lose their sense, an amalgamation of incoherent thoughts that screamed only one thing - Tayce.

It was then that she heard a faint knock at the door. Speak of the devil.

"come in"

The door creaked open gradually, a slither of light from the landing slicing into the dimly lit room, proving to be a stark contrast that A'whora had never really seemed to notice before.

Tayce looked vulnerable, worn down - she had removed her makeup and thrown on an oversized hoodie and some shorts, and the image was so innocuous that the pale girl could feel her heart jump.

she tiptoed towards the bed, her movements so gentle and delicate that they made A'whora feel (and probably look) like a bull in a china shop. She took a seat next to the blonde, their arms brushing against eachother gently, and A'whora's brain short-circuited, shooting sparks throughout her body that made her feel electric.

"what's wrong, babe? you're being all weird on me. i can't have that"

The paler girl's eyes flickered shut as she words left Tayce's lips, lingering the air and clinging to A'whora's lungs as she breathed it in slowly. She shuffled on the bed so that she was facing her friend now and, despite her sobriety (or maybe because of it, she didn't really know), she found herself willing to confess the one thing that'd been eating at her for months, festering under her skin and wearing down her bones until they felt like they were made of glass.

"Tayce" the word came out almost inaudible, barely above a whisper if at all, and Tayce's hands soon found themselves clung to A'whora's, sending a small shiver down her spine at how cold they were.

"rory, you can tell me anything" the words were laced with sincerity - strung together with golden threats of intimacy, one that they shared often but didn't dare to vocalize until now.

It'd always loitered in the atmosphere, sometimes making itself known in form of a needy hug or peck on the cheek or maybe even a drunken kiss, but it never seemed to come up in conversation - well, Lawrence had pointed their - as she'd say - 'seckshul tenshun' out a fistful of times, but it'd always been brushed off as playful.

well, it was now or never. A'whora's breaths were ragged and her brows furrowed together as her mind scrambled frantically to get her words together until-

"Tayce, i think I'm in love with you"

fuck.

Hot tears pricked at her eyes the second it'd been said - it felt like a weight had been lifted, a secret that'd been pushing against her chest for months, slowly but surely asphyxiating her until, on some days, she found it hard to breathe when Tayce was on her mind.

When the brunette didn't reply, A'whora's conscience was immediately obscured by paranoia, completely deactivating her ability to think clearly for just a split second, until she felt a warm hand rest on her jaw, and she slowly blinked away the blurry tears to see Tayce leaning in ever so slowly, lips parted in a way that A'whora couldn't refuse (it's not like she ever would, anyway).

She wasted no time in closing the gap between them, and it was like the world around her had went up in flames. Her head was getting swimmy as she melted into the kiss which, in turn, deepened it.

Tayce tilted her head to the side slightly, opening her lips in a silent plead and A'whora obliged, their tongues finally meeting, dancing to a silent melody only they could hear, and the blonde thought she didn't want to taste anything else for the rest of her life. She tasted like sugar and caramel and all of A'whora's favourite things, excluding the faint traces of alcohol on their breaths.

When they finally broke apart, a dumb smile was plastered on Tayce's face as she pressed her forehead against her housemate's. A'whora couldn't help but return the smile - she'd yearned for so long, wanted and wanted until she finally felt it. Warmth engulfed her body, and her housemate's touch felt like fire as the brunette's fingers held a firm grip on her arm.

A'whora thought she might've burned her, but she wouldnt have minded - the feeling lingered seconds after Tayce's fingers had departed, but when the blonde looked down, she saw no trace of the contact on her arm, and a content sigh escaped her kiss-swollen lips.

Tayce thought it was obvious, that vocalizing such a thing was painfully unnecessary, but she couldn't stop herself when she spoke, the words breathy and quiet and brimming with affection;

"i think I'm in love with you, too"

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #uk2 #tayce #a'whora #taywhora #fluff #angst #(if you squint)#friends to lovers #roommate au #lesbian au #spiritualcramp33

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lumau · 4 years ago

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Gentlewings

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Yay! Finally more Juprafel content! Here is a fanfic for you that I’ve written for the Mogtober 2020 prompt for day 5 (favorite side character).

Notes: I’m still pre-Hollowpox, so some things might not line up anymore later on. I wanted to write down one (of my many) ideas on how Jupiter met Israfel for the first time. What I enjoyed was to specifically not focus on Israfel's addictive singing, but on what else might connect him to Jupiter, what his personality could be and his background. I have (many) theories about him and the “not-actually-angels”, as a lot is still left in the air (pun intended) after Wundersmith. I made up quite a few things about them, which will very likely be inaccurate. I realise the angels from Grave Importance influenced me and especially the story around Amitiel and Zophiel. I just really got something for corrupted angels, I guess. :D

There will be some flirty stuff (it’s Jupiter North after all!), but you can totally read this as the beginning of a special friendship if you’re not into shipping.

And if you are, though, I already plan to write a follow up story for Mogtober day 9 which will likely have more of a romancy note to it. And there will be the matching illustration I made, so stay tuned for that!

Oh, and a shout out to those who were there for the first posts on this blog – there will be a moment of recognition for you if you make it to the end! :)

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Gentlewings

When he received the Stealth’s request to join forces with them on a special mission that would involve the visit of a very fancy and exclusive soirée, it all sounded exciting and like the perfect job for him. Three hours in though, Jupiter felt the nagging of a headache and, even worse, extremely bored. It turned out he had not been recruited because of his impeccable looks, his charisma or his ability to turn every party into a roaring success, but because of him being a Witness.

To his outrage, they had not even let him wear his famously snazzy pastel mint coloured evening suit. However, no one could stop him from giving the all black stealth uniform at least a small personal touch by adding a floral pink pocket square and his favourite lavender dress shoes. They had to agree to this mildly rebellious act begrudgingly. His ginger mane and beard already made it impossible for Jupiter to be actually stealthy anyways, and their human and wunimal resources (HWR) for this job were so limited, they couldn‘t risk losing his cooperation.

As he was supposed to, Jupiter let his gaze slowly wander over the crowd from the outskirts of the dim lounge. Once again, he could not detect any sign of disturbances in the general atmosphere of the party. Most of those attending were slightly on edge and rather wished they were somewhere else, as he could clearly see in their auras and the web of Gossamer threads, but that was nothing unusual at a political event and what he had expected due to the delicate nature of the gathering.

Scattered across the room was a small number of extremely posh diplomats and their guests. The intention of WunSoc in inviting the COG (Celestial Observation Group) was to stay on good terms with them, an urgent necessity after the recent issues they had gotten into when both groups were faced with being involved in those interspecies murder cases.

Jupiter had never before been in a room with several Celestial Beings at once, and he could do without that experience. Part of the preparation for the job had been a thorough briefing about their kind, and only a few chosen senior Stealth officers with special mental training had been found suitable. Watching the interactions in the room through his lens had been captivating at first, but now it started to tire Jupiter out. Humans were already so complicated on their own, but the unique trait of the Celestials, absorbing and influencing the emotions of those around them, turned the whole room into a blurry melting pot. As Jupiter curiously observed, the clowd-like puffs of emotions were drawn towards the winged folks, but sometimes their own state of mind also seemed to drift over to their opponents, engulfing and influencing them.

Fascinating, but clearly highly dangerous and for Jupiter, who’s visual filters were lowered on his watch post, quite exhausting. He had been instructed to notify the chief officer immediately, should the atmosphere in the lounge take a risky turn or should he detect any hostile intentions. So far everyone was peacefully engaging in small talk though.

Mentally turning his filters back up, Jupiter closed his eyes for a second and stifled a yawn. He checked his fob watch – 15 minutes till the end of his shift, finally. A smile crossed his face. Through the eyes of a ‘normal’, the sight of the room was actually outrageously beautiful. The dim light made the Celestials‘ skin, wings and gowns shimmer in varying metallic shades, and their faces wore mild, austere looks as if nothing could ever disturb their composed aloofness. The briefing had warned about their ethereal beauty and mental influence, but seeing it in person was something else. Jupiter could feel a little pinch of longing in his stomach. The worst part of the job was that he had to keep at the sidelines of the party – not a particularly fun party, but still.

Something caught his attention in the corner of his eye, something sparkly in the shadows of an alcove. He focused and could make out the shape of a person surrounded by a sizzling cloud of gloomy energy. Tensing he tried to see what was going on. He did need light to make full use of his knack, but it was bright enough for him to tell that someone was not having a good time over there. Were they hostile though? There was some anger, for sure, but diffused with other emotions like anxiety and sadness, and a very strong sense of being out of place. Definitely not someone planning to overthrow the Wundrous Society or cause a civil war between sky and ground.

Pushing away from the wall he had been leaning against, Jupiter started to stroll over to where he had seen the golden shimmer in the darkness. Jupiter’s curiosity was piqued. His face lit up. For the sake of the safety of the Free State, he had to investigate, right?

“Excuse me, is everything okay?” he addressed the stranger, approaching, but before he could take another step, their head shot up and without warning Jupiter was hit by such a sudden wave of anger, it felt like a fist to his stomach. He gasped and stopped dead in his tracks. There was a cloud of chaos emanating from the Celestial, speckled with hundreds of tiny flame-like shards that were swarming towards him like angry wasps. Jupiter felt the irresistible urge to turn around and get out of there immediately. Then he remembered to breathe. One slow, deep breath. And another. Like he had been taught when he had first learned to control his vision. And another. And he could see past the darting flames and feel his body again. Nothing was physically attacking him. He just needed to focus.

Taking one more deep breath, he concentrated and said in a calm and measured voice, sporting his warmest smile, as if nothing had just happened: “I saw you sitting here alone and was wondering if you needed anything.”

It took the Celestial a moment to find their composure, but the storm-like cloud around them was calming down. Jupiter suddenly felt a desire to go to the bar and get them a strong drink. Blinking, he could see that this prompt had not appeared out of nowhere, but it was actually drifting over to him from inside the alcove. “Sneaky!” he thought slightly amused, “This should get interesting.”

“Look,” he said, “I’ll get you a drink, if you stop glowering. Just give me a minute, alright?” He winked and was about to turn away, when a low, deeply melodic voice spoke. “We have been warned about you, Captain North.”

Jupiter’s heart made a little jump and he could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. That voice… it was the most perfect sound in the universe. He could see it sending little rippling waves through the Gossamer. Someone with a voice like that shouldn’t even be able to exist in this realm. It seemed somehow… indecent.

Jupiter noticed that he was staring at the Celestial open-mouthed and shook himself out of it by running a hand through his hair. “I’m flattered! What have you been warned about? My sharp wits? My gingerness? Or about me being very handsome?”

To his own surprise, the hint of a smile crept across the dark face. Jupiter noticed once again a golden shimmer. “All of those might have been mentioned,” the Celestial replied, standing up, “but we were mainly told to not engage with you due to your special ability of seeing the truth.”

“Yep, that’s me!”, Jupiter smiled, obviously pleased. “As you already know so much about me, may I ask for your name?” There was a stirring and a soft rustle of feathers, as the Celestial stepped smoothly out of the dark corner. Now Jupiter could see where the reflections came from. The dark skin was rippled in tiny rivers of gold, and the folded wings were speckled with what looked like a million golden stars. It was difficult to not feel awed by such otherworldly beauty.

“Pleased to meet you, Captain North. My name is Israfel.” “Israfel, it’s my pleasure. And please call me Jupiter, I’m currently not working.” “Are you not? I thought you were on watch duty? That’s what I was told, at least.” Jupiter made a mental note about an alarming lack of secrecy in the preparation of this mission. “My shift has ended”, he checked his fob watch, “one minute ago exactly. My replacement is just taking her place over there.” He had spotted Barren, the Bulldogwun that was taking over for him across the room and gave her a little wave, that she answered with a grim nod. While she didn’t have his vision, her sense of smell was so finely tuned that she could perceive a lot of what he saw. He felt sympathy for her. It was hard work for either of them to use their senses in a room full of people.

“So, Israfel. Will you be having that drink with me regardless of those warnings?” Jupiter tilted his head with his most inviting smile. There was a short silence. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for either of us to be seen together. Let’s meet outside on the balcony in a minute. I’ll have a double-shot of Whiskey.” Without waiting for a reply, Israfel moved towards the balcony and left Jupiter standing, a slightly sheepish grin on his face, feeling utterly pleased at this exciting turn of events.

Jupiter had to work his magic on the bartender, as this was in fact an alcohol free event. They couldn‘t risk anyone letting their guards down tonight. Shortly afterwards he stepped out onto the wide balcony, in one hand a flute of pink champagne and the Whiskey in the other.

Israfel stood at the balustrade overlooking the nightly Nevermoor, wings mantled as if to stretch them after having them tucked for too long. A light breeze ruffled the feathers that reflected the light of the lanterns and they seemed to glow warmly. Jupiter urged himself to continue moving, as he’d also happily just stood there, observing this almost surreal scene, forever.

“One Whiskey for the gentle--- erm...” Jupiter stopped, his mind running into a dead end. Israfel took the glass from his hand and drank. “It’s okay, you can say gentleman. Although my kind does not abide by your human roles of gender, your masculine forms would be most suitable for me.” He downed the rest of the glass and set it down onto the balustrade.

They stood in silence for a moment, taking in the view of the sleeping city. “It must not be easy for you to live around all of this.” Israfel gestured towards the dim lights below. “Hmm?” “As you probably know, my kind absorbs others' emotions. Living amongst all these people... I just couldn’t. And I suppose it must be similar for you, seeing everything, always.” He gave Jupiter a quizzing look, “How do you do it?” “I see you’re not into small talk, are you?” Jupiter chuckled amused, “Tell me more about this emotions thingy then. How does it work?”

Israfel looked a little annoyed by his evasiveness, but still answered. “It’s fairly simple. We take in others’ emotions and they become part of us. Good emotions nurture and heal us, while negative emotions pull us down and can be quite a pain. We depend on the emotions of others, but too much of them or especially bad ones can even cause harm. Human emotions are complicated. Amongst ourselves, we can control what we take in. That’s why we always live in pairs or groups and rather stay away from humans.”

“Wait,” Jupiter interrupted, “what you’re saying is you’re practically feeding on emotions? And you would die if you were left alone?” “Not quite, no. Our bodies need food and drink, and we can survive without others’ emotions. But our spirit would wither, and after some time, we would be left empty.” “Fascinating!” Jupiter proclaimed, “But also quite dreadful, the thought of dying internally.”

Now it made somewhat more sense to him, Jupiter thought. The Celestial Beings were all utterly beautiful and could charm and manipulate people with their voices, and although they were rarely ever seen in Nevermoor, practically everyone admired the angels of legends which they resembled. It was quite a refined hunting technique, coming to think of it, for a being that thrived of affection to reflect the fond dreams and wishes of their prey. But Jupiter wasn’t judging.

“So back in there earlier, at that dull party”, he motioned towards the lounge, “were you just a little hangry then?” Israfel startled, and burst into a snorting laugh, that Jupiter hadn’t thought he’d be capable of, as it seemed way too profane. “Maybe. Now I’m better though.”

Jupiter could see that. The dark cloud had not vanished, but there were other things in the Celestial’s aura. The alcohol, silver shimmer of excitement, little flashes of curiosity and a string of… affection? Focusing closely for a moment, Jupiter could see a very faint, thin rosy ribbon wafting in the air and connecting the two of them underneath their rib cages. ‘Huh!’ he thought, ‘Makes sense. Not hangry anymore.’

Israfel’s voice made him look up again. “Actually, I was kind of stood up. I’m not part of the COG. Cassiel brought me along as his companion. I didn’t want to come, it’s always such a pain being cooped up in a room on the ground, no space to stretch my wings without knocking anything over… Those boring conversations and not even a proper drink to be had.”

Jupiter could see some of the tiny flames reappear and the cloud around Israfel’s head grew darker again as he talked himself back into a rage. ‘Quite an intense one, he is’ Jupiter thought somewhat approvingly. “And as soon as we get here, Cassiel immediately disappears for a special meeting or something that he wouldn’t tell me about, leaving me all by myself in a room full of strangers. Not as if he hadn’t been depriving me all those last weeks anyways.” Israfel slapped his hand on the balustrade and left it there curled into a fist, staring down sulkily at the empty street below.

“Sounds like you’ve had quite a night,” Jupiter remarked compassionately, wilfully blocking the raging flames from his vision. “Are you and Cassiel… close?” “Yes. No. Well, not in the sense that your kind speaks of it. We don’t form such emotionally entangled bonds as you humans do. We provide for each other. It’s a form of communal organisation.” Jupiter tried to imagine what that could look like and wasn’t sure he understood. An organised relationship to provide for each other's needs of affection? 9 a.m., 5 minute hug before work; 6 p.m., make 3 compliments each? When he looked at Israfel’s aura though, what he saw resembled pretty much what he’d expect to see in someone who had been hurt by a loved one. He stopped his inner monologue to turn back to the grim looking Celestial. His wings were drooping now and he seemed so utterly miserable, Jupiter could only just stop himself from giving him a big squeezing hug, once again, a wish that was not just of his own making.

“Hah!”, Jupiter suddenly burst out, “Gentlewings!” “What?” Israfel looked up at him in bewilderment. “Oops, did I say that out loud? I just realised, earlier I should have said ‘One Whiskey for the gentlewings’, cause… well, you…” he trailed off. Israfel shook his head in disbelief, but was unable to help a smile creeping onto his face. “I can’t even.” “But thanks, anyways.” “What for?” “That you’re trying to cheer me up. I appreciate it.”

“Captain North!” a voice rang across the balcony, making both of them startle and turn. “Inspector Lamar?” Jupiter started walking over to the stealth officer standing in the doorway. “We have been looking for you, the guests are leaving and Inspector Barren would like a word with you before we wrap up.” Inspector Lamar saw past Jupiter where Israfel was still standing at the balustrade and cast him a questioning look, “Is everything alright, Captain?” “Right as rain, Inspector, right as rain. I was just checking in on one of our guests who felt a little queasy. You know, not much room for wing stretching and so on in there, got a little claustrophobic, poor chap.” He gave Inspector Lamar a conspiratorial smile. “I’ll find Barren in a minute, I’m just going to make sure that Celestial is feeling better before he finds his way back to the others.” The Inspector didn’t seem fully convinced by his words, but nodded and turned to re-enter the lounge.

Israfel strolled over to Jupiter, a worried look on his face. Jupiter gave him a reassuring smile. “No need to frown, they just informed me that I’m wanted by my colleague and that the party is finally ending. The guests are leaving, so you should probably go and find Cassiel as well.” “Oh, right,” Israfel sighed and nodded, “thanks for helping me out earlier. You made that evening a lot more bearable.” Jupiter beamed at him and couldn’t help but feel very pleased with himself. If he didn’t know his knack was being a Witness, he’d have sworn it was picking the most interesting people in every crowd, finding the odd one out, those who wouldn’t conform, and befriending them. He knew right away that Israfel was different from the other Celestials, and was convinced he’d only merely scratched the surface of his personality. He could feel the promise of unexpected adventures in the air.

Leaning casually against the door frame of the lounge, Jupiter ran a hand through his long ginger hair. “If you’d like something better than a just bearable evening… You know I run the Hotel Deucalion, and Frank, my party planner, who is a vampire dwarf by the way, only one in Nevermoor, he’s always coming up with something brilliant for our weekly party night. Should you want to join this Saturday… you might even have some fun?” Israfel’s face showed surprise, as if him having fun at a party seemed quite an abstract idea. He considered the thought for a moment, and Jupiter was pleased to see the shimmer of excitement intensifying around him. But then something crossed his mind, his face fell and the silver glow subsided. “Listen, thanks for asking, but your kind and my kind can't ever become closely acquainted. We become dependent on your emotions, and our ways of influencing you mentally would mean you could never truly trust me. It's an impossible endeavour, really."

Jupiter smirked. He was Captain Jupiter Amantius North, member of the Wundrous Society and League of Explorers, first to climb Mt Ridiculous, discoverer of 17 previously undiscovered realms, to just name a few of his many (partially self-given) titles, and for a good reason – he could never resist an impossible challenge.

"Shall we say Saturday, 8 p.m. then? I will meet you in the Deucalion lobby. Unless, of course, you’d rather come via the rooftop terrace? Oh, and don’t worry – all of my staff and my esteemed guests are very discreet. No need to fear a public political scandal should we get utterly drunk and end up dancing together on the buffet tables." He winked and turned to move away quickly, leaving Israfel standing dumbstruck, before he had the chance to say anything in return.

Jupiter could feel his heart pounding with excitement and glee, a wide smile drawn on his face, as he briskly walked through the now almost dark lounge, ignoring the shadows of the events of this past evening that were emanating all around him. He could still see a hint of the rosy ribbon that connected him to Israfel when he looked down. What an intensely fascinating person he met tonight! He was hooked.

#mogtober2020 #fanfiction #nevermoor #juprafel #jupiter north #angel israfel #wundersmith #cassiel disappears - again #casrafel is a thing now too #because relationship anarchy for the win #and nonbinary gender stuff #because why not

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jcsters · 1 year ago

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"but like - is it really unpredictable? i mean like - in the short time that we're alive and like, walking the earth or whatever - sure, it's unpredictable to us - but like, the earth's been around for like, so so long - we're probably like, in a never-ending pattern. like - that's why there's been like, multiple ice ages. or were those just movies?" her nose crinkled at the question, eating her perfectly squared off pizza slices as she listened to yasemin. "yeah! exactly! what we, like - take from the earth will be restored eventually, it's just like - all about consequence, right? like this is our karmic truth, we hurt the earth so the earth hurts us back. it's like, super sad. i love nature - i even use paper straws!"

"i don't think so. things like that are unpredictable." everything in life was unpredictable. no one could predict what would happen next in life. weather was unpredictable as well. no one could tell how bad a storm would be. or how bad a hurricane could be. that was apart of life in a way. not knowing. "could be. i mean look at all the snow california got last season. all of that melted and brought back a lake that had disappeared years ago. some people said that lake came back to reclaim what was taken from it."

#––– ❛ replies 【 little blurry stars scattered all across. 】#c:yasemin demir

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a-solitary-marshmallow · 4 years ago

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My Love Mirrored

“Ladybug!” Chat Noir’s cry echoed across the vast mirror expanse of what used to be the park. Only a few blades of grass were visible through the gleaming obstacle course that obscured the world around him, like the mirror maze in a carnival funhouse. He weaved through shards of jagged glass like stalagmites jutting up into the sky all around, sending his scattered reflection gleaming back to him in black splinters. He felt like an insect in the presence of giants.

His ring gave another warning beep. “Ladybug, where are you?”

“Here!” She called faintly. Her voice echoed all around. Chat Noir turned in a circle, trying to pinpoint it.

“So – note to self – next time don’t chase the akuma into a mirror maze.”

“It wasn’t a maze until Mirror Image started zapping it!” Ladybug’s voice sounded grumpily. A beep echoed through the park. “And now I’m running out of time!”

At that moment, Adrien’s ring let out a final shrill noise and his transformation faded. He jumped to snatch Plagg out of the air before the kwarmi could fall. Plagg grumbled in his palms about cheese.

“So, about that…”

“You transformed back?” Ladybug yelped. Adrien tucked the tired Plagg into his jacket pocket and looked around, trying to catch glimpses of red. He could only see his own fractured reflection.

“You know about that stuff with you being the guardian and making all the rules?” Adrien called. “I think now’s the time to spill any secrets.”

“What?” Ladybug squawked.

“We need to work together to get out of here, and I don’t have any food for my kwarmi. I already had to recharge twice before, remember? Do you have extra food for Tikki?”

“Ummmm.” There was the final beep of her transformation receding. Ladybug groaned. “I forgot to restock. Fuck Hawkmoth and his three akumas in one day.”

Adrien picked his way through the mess of mirrors, in what he hoped was the right direction. “I’m coming over. Is that okay?”

Ladybug made a small whining sound of indecision.

“Ladybug?”

“…okay. You’re right.”

She was actually gonna do it? He was finally going to see her face? The thought made his stomach swirl. Seeing Ladybug. Walking on the street with Ladybug. Being a civilian with Ladybug.

He was trembling. Adrien weaved through the maze, breaths coming quicker and shorter with excitement. “Which direction are you?”

“Over here.” She called, from a direction that was not in front of him. Adrien frowned – he’d gotten turned around.

“Where?”

“Here! Follow my voice!”

Easier said than done. It echoed around him. Adrien picked a new direction and continued the walk – from the sounds of footsteps and crunching glass, Ladybug was doing the same.

Adrien picked up the pace. His pulse thrummed under his skin, a drumbeat in his chest. A shard of reflection flickered in a nearby mirror – a flash of pink. He spun around.

“Ladybug?”

“Chat?” Now the flickering was to his left, movement reflected through mirrors all around them. How close was she? He glimpsed a flash of black before it was gone again. If he just moved a little, he might be able to see the full picture. Adrien slipped under a gleaming spike to get closer.

“Chat, wait!”

Adrien froze at the sudden panic in Ladybug’s voice.

“Wait. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” She blurted. “Hawkmoth could use us against each other. Revealing our identities might not be such a good move.”

“Or it could be the best move we’ve ever made.”

She let out another uncertain whine.

“Ladybug, listen. I know this is kind of risky. It’s true, it’s easier for him to find out who we are. But we can make it work. We can help each other, inside and outside of the mask. We’ll be an even better team than we are now!” Adrien grinned. “We can take Hawkmoth down before he finds us! I believe in us. And – is it selfish of me to say, I desperately want to see your cute face?”

“Chat!” She didn’t sound angry, though, just full to the brim with nervousness.

“Okay, okay, I’m being serious. And in all seriousness, we can make anything work. We’re Ladybug and Chat Noir! We can do anything!” He spun in a slow circle. “I’m right here if you want to see me.”

The crunch of footsteps. Adrien turned to face her, but there was nothing but mirrors and his own reflection.

“I… I trust you.” Ladybug said uncertainly. “And, if you trust me…”

“To the ends of the earth, my lady.”

Adrien tried to follow the sounds of her voice. This maze was so huge. “Then, why shouldn’t we show ourselves?”

“Yeah.”

Adrien turned to avoid a jutting shard and backed away, trying to find a path through the maze. His shoes crunched in glass dust from their previous escapades trying to defeat Mirror Image. He must be near the exit now. If he remembered correctly, this was near where they’d smashed the tall spires of glass to create a clearing in which to fight.

A soft gasp behind him. Adrien spun around and came face-to-face with a staring, raven-haired girl.

Her ocean-blue eyes were so very bright in the fractured light, and how hadn’t he recognised them before? They were the eyes of the girl who threw herself into her causes with unshakeable dedication; whose soft voice could soothe even the most distraught classmate; who always smelled of baked goods, sugar cookies and fresh bread; whose nimble fingers were scarred with needle-pricks and drawing callouses. The fist-clenching warrior who could cut down bullies with a razor wit; who hated liars with a fiery passion; who launched herself into combat with the fury of a thousand dragons if someone dear to her heart was threatened.

And that girl was also Ladybug.

Marinette clapped her hands to her mouth. Adrien could only stare, and gasp for breath, and then his vision blurred and there were tears welling up in his eyes. Marinette broke the hush by stepping forward with a look of concern on her face – concerned, even now, reaching for him with a small but tough hand.

Adrien couldn’t contain himself any longer. He ran forward and tackled her in a hug. Marinette yelped and clutched at his back as twirled her around, dizzy with joy.

“It’s you! Of course it’s you!”

He was laughing, eyes blurry, and now Marinette was laughing too. She wrapped her arms around his neck. They spun through a world of mirrors, shrieking and laughing with joy, until Marinette’s feet landed on the ground. Adrien pressed kisses to her face, her cheeks, the cold tip of her nose. Marinette giggled.

“Kitty, you’re crying. Oh, come here, you.” She tangled her hands in his hair and pulled his head down for her to kiss his forehead. He purred. “Adrien! You silly cat!”

“It’s really you.”

“It’s me.” Marinette’s smile was like the sun. It lit up the world and made him warm inside. Her teeth gleamed and her eyes sparkled and crinkled and Adrien wanted to cry. She was like home. “It’s me, and it’s you. You’re my kitty, of course you are.”

Adrien laughed again and pressed his forehead to hers. Marinette smiled at him like he was her world – which made sense, because she was his star, lighting the way and filling him with warmth. His chest hurt with the strength of his adoration.

Marinette’s eyes sparkled, and she said quietly, “May I kiss you?”

Adrien’s mouth was dry. He settled for nodding, his stomach alive with butterflies, and not the evil kind. Marinette’s hand lowered to his waist, and then she was kissing him, swooping him into a damsel kiss that made him want to swoon. Marinette smelled like chocolate croissants and pastries when she pulled away. Adrien’s smile hurt his face.

“I love you.”

Oh, shit. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud – stupid, stupid, why did he say that? He’d ruined everything, she was going to stare at him and-

“I love you too.” Marinette replied, and kissed him again.

#my writing #my fic #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #identity reveal

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motleymoose · 4 years ago

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Homecoming Pt. 3: Bits & Pieces Ch. 1

Chapter 1 Ashes in a Vacuum

Fandom: The Mandalorian, Star Wars Characters: The Mandalorain (Din Djarin), Gender Neutral Reader, The Child Words: 2.5k+ Warnings: Injury, Angst, A whole lotta attitude

Summary:

I AM ALL SORTS OF ANGRY AT THAT FRAGGING BUCKETHEAD!!! He's leaving me with more questions than I have the ability to ask, and I don't like it one bit.

But dang, that little greenie is cute!

Notes:

Heya! Thank y'all for reading!!! I'm not sure how many chapters this part is gonna have, so??? We're coming up on the halfway point of the story. Maybe my editing skills will improve by then (ha).

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Homecoming Masterlist

The way everything hurt, I was sure I was dying.

Squinting at the dim, fuzzy gray light of my bunk, I ran an internal diagnostics check. With every little wiggle and flex of an appendage, I gradually realized that I was not, in fact, dying, but I wasn’t in prime fighting shape either. Slowly, gingerly, I scrubbed sleep from my burning eyes with the heels of my palms, my vision spotty and fuzzy in places. It felt good to let them linger, pressing heavily into the closed eyelids and relieving the pressure built up behind my eyeballs. As killer headaches went, the one I was experiencing in that moment wasn’t the worst I’d ever had, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like doshing kung.

Now that I was sorta awake, I took physical stock of my body. My eyes still wouldn’t clear, the large flecks of gray shadow swimming lazily in my periphery, so I used touch to see what was going on. Letting my hands do the work, I started with my head, running my fingers lightly down my neck to my shoulders and chest. Something felt off about the shape of my body as I continued to scan downwards to my hips. Foggy memories swirled inside my head, screaming and pain and choking smoke. A jumbled mess of noise and smells overpowered everything else, and the bits and pieces of the fight and flight from Bosph scattered nervously into the darker recesses of my brain.

Frustrated, I sat up, ignoring the sharp tug at the pit of my elbow and the violent, painful thumping rattling my brain. “Fragging buckethead,” I hissed through clenched teeth. He had got me in this mess. Sure, it was my fault for getting a bounty put on me, but if only he’d listened to me in the first place, we coulda avoided Bosph entirely. The anger, bitter and sparkling and pulsing red, numbed the headache and the bruises slightly. And as the ire rose, so too did the functionality of my brain.

I could focus now on what my hands had been trying to tell me: all of my possessions, from my boots to my jumpsuit and everything in between or tucked into pockets, was gone. A worn coarseweave tunic hung from my curved shoulders, the sleeves neatly rolled up around my biceps, and a newer looking pair of long johns, the baggy legs bunched around my knees, had replaced my utilitarian and well-loved apparel.

Oh Mother of Kwath! Had the Mandalorian undressed me?! I mean, I was an adult. He was an adult. And apparently I had been injured enough to warrant such an invasion of privacy. Still, I couldn’t fight the blush burning brightly across my chest and face.

So doshing uncomfortable.

Nope, nope, nope. Didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Pushing down all of the humiliation and trauma and apprehension until the feelings were little more than an annoying itch under my skin, I allowed the rage to take over a little more. It was easier to be angry than to feel anything else, the outrage a warming presence in my chilly body. It also gave me the little boost of courage for what I had to do next.

Screwing my eyes shut, incredibly unprepared for the worst possible outcome, I touched the place under my collarbone where my silver skull pendant rested, a solid, reassuring weight...

Nothing.

Instead of skin-warmed metal, I was met with warm, padded resistance. Peering into the neck of the tunic, I found a thick, dull-colored wrap encasing my midsection from under my armpits to my hip bones. It smelled of the sea on a warm summer’s day, and I wrinkled my nose automatically. Bacta. Whatever injury I had sustained must’ve been bad enough to call for the precious, oftentimes expensive goo. The wrap wasn’t so tight as to constrict breathing or some movements, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.

The physical uncomfortableness brought me back to the question of why the bounty hunter was keeping me alive, but just like all the other feelings, I ignored it. I needed to find my clothes, my necklace. Get dressed. Leave this beautiful ship and her tyrant pilot behind and become a krill farmer out on the Outer Rim.

Well, probably not a farmer. A droid mech, perhaps.

The soft skin on the inside of my elbow twinged again, pulling me out of my daydreams as I reached for the blanket covering the lower half of my body. A thin, clear tube snaked from a needle inserted into a vein to a nearly-empty pouch hanging from a hook in the bunk wall. Fumbling, my fingernails worked their way underneath the sticky medical tape, peeling up an edge wide enough to pinch. I ripped the tape from my arm, gritting as it pulled hair and skin with it. Once the tape was gone, I slid the needle out of my arm with a hiss, tossing it aside to leak between the cot and the bunk wall. Whatever cocktail of drugs the bounty hunter had mixed into the IV, he’d probably added a good dose of sedative to keep me down for the count. That would’ve explained the fogginess.

And it made me so mad.

I let the full-blown, all-consuming fury in, jerking the coarseweave blanket off of me and freeing my legs. Exhaling forcefully, I tested my injured knee, poking at the matching bacta bandage. The original searing-white agony I had experienced on Bosph was muted now, less of a screaming torment and more of a dull throbbing. Healed enough to put weight on. Hopefully

Groaning and cursing at stiff muscles and bucketheaded hunters respectively, I wriggled on the bed until my bare feet skimmed the floor. The cold steel of the hull platform sent shivers through my flesh, feeding the annoyance and anger and frustration. I inhaled, steadying myself for the shooting pain sure to follow standing on both legs. Pleasantly astonished as I was that it didn’t hurt too horribly, I wasn’t prepared for the lightheadedness. The blood rushed from my face, my vision blackening around the edges.

“Oh frag,” I managed to croak before slumping to the floor in an unconscious heap. --------------- I awoke, some time later, inside my bunk. The coarseweave blanket was tucked firmly beneath my chin, the IV reinserted into my arm, and my red-hot rage completely dissipated. An imposing, blurry figure stood at the foot of the bunk, and I took my time adjusting myself from lying flat to reclining, eyes tightly shut to avoid the spinning shadows. Once I was comfortable, I cracked an eyelid. The Mandalorian’s blurred steely stare greeted me, a clear bag of liquid over one arm and a sling supporting the other.

“You’re awake,” he stated matter of factly.

“D-Didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of travelling in silence,” I replied dryly, voice husky with disuse. “By the way, where’s my jumpsuit?” I opened my eyes all the way, blinking rapidly to dispel the fog coating them. It didn’t work.

The bounty hunter harrumphed softly. “Incinerated. You had a fractured knee, two broken ribs and a blaster wound to the stomach. Plus severe retinal damage and dehydration. You’re lucky you even made it off-planet.” He angled his visor away from me to tap out something on his vembrace.

“Wait, what?”

He tilted his visor towards me and put it simply. “You almost died.”

I feebly waved the non-IVed hand in front of my face. “No, not that. Did you say you incinerated all of my stuff?!”

Ignoring me, per his style, he continued to tap on his vembrace’s control panel.

Devastated, depressed and not a little bit murderous, I glowered squintily at him. I was reeling inwardly, but on the outside I was colder than carbonite.

As he ignored me, I studied him as closely as my recovering vision would allow. I could tell there was something different in his appearance, but it took a moment for me to recognize what it was . A softer quality to his edges that I couldn’t quite understand, his body looking less defined, less bulky than normal. I blinked several times to refocus, and was rewarded with infinitesimally better vision.

“Where’s your armor, shabuir?” I sniped. I may have been more than a little miffed that all of my worldly possessions were now ash and lumps of twisted metal, and biting at a Mandalorian was a temporarily soothing balm to my aching heart.

The hunter reached over me and unhooked the empty bacta IV bag from a rod above my head, replacing it with the one he’d brought. Adjusting the solution valve, he tapped the drip chamber twice before turning his attention back to me. “There’s a spare jumpsuit in the ‘fresher. Keep the bacta wrap on for another hour, at least.” As an afterthought, he added, “We’ll be on Nevarro in a few days.” A frown tainted his voice. “Stay out of my way ‘til then.” Spinning on his heel, he marched to the ladder and disappeared onto the upper deck.

………

It took about twelve hours for me to feel well enough to rid myself of the IV and bacta wraps and get out of the bunk without having the ship buck underneath me like a wild bluurg. I took that time to cry myself to sleep, wake up and cry some more. The loss of my tools and kit was a huge blow to my self-worth, but the loss of the pendant, well. It was the only piece I had left of a life full of fear and hunger and love; it connected me to home. If I didn’t have that, where did I belong?

It took another three hours for me to get up the nerve to get cleaned and dressed. I prowled around the cargo hold, poking and prodding at the carbonite storage, the control panels and the refresher. There hadn’t been much of a chance on my earlier voyages to explore, so with the Mandalorian occupied guiding the ship through hyperspace, I felt emboldened to figure out more about him. Not that there was much to glean from my investigation; the hold contained only the basics of survival for deep space travel, and weapons. Lots of weapons.

Oh, and several beings in what looked to be forced-stasis, frozen in carbonite.

Shivering in sympathy for my hold companions, I turned and shuffled back to the bunk. What I really had hoped to find was the incinerator - most ships kept them below near the back for easy dispatch of trash - but I hadn’t found hide nor hair of one below deck. It could’ve been located above. Not exactly the safest or most pleasant location, yet with all the fire power and carbonite in the hold, it kinda made sense. No need to put three dangerous elements all in one place, if you had the room.

A little voice at the back of my head reminded me of something else: that fragging Mando had all but ordered me to stay put. If he thought for one second that I was going to listen to him, he had another thing coming. I held no ill-will against Mandalorians in general, but this one was getting on my bad side. First arresting me and then almost getting me killed and then destroying the only thing I had left of home reminded me that I only had myself to rely on, that everyone else was out to either disappoint me or kill me.

I’d be doshed if I was going to let that buckethead dictate what I could and couldn’t do, especially since he was the one who took me off that Maker-forsaken moon in the first place.

Especially since he handed me over to Mihcas without an apology.

And took my pendant and tools to boot.

Ascending the ladder turned out to be a formidable feat in my weakened condition, but I prevailed. It took more effort than it should have, and I collapsed onto the cool steel platform once I made it all the way up.

“What are you doing?” The modulated baritone came from my right. Swiveling my head, I watched as the bounty hunter stomped out of the captain’s quarters, a bundle of clothes clutched to his chest and fingers unsurprisingly reaching for his blaster. Whatever was in the bundle must have been precious, for he shifted it away from me to his injured arm. It obviously still hurt; he held the bundle in the crook of his elbow, awkwardly bent and trembling with effort.

Good.

Rage flared in my chest, licking its way up like flames and leaving a red mask pounding behind my eyes. Pushing the anger away, I clambered up to my feet. I was going to get answers, and I’d be fragged if I was going to show emotion in front of him.

“Where’s the incinerator?” I spat savagely. So much for not showing any emotion.

Obviously taken aback by my vehemence and bluntness, he cocked his helmet and pulled his hand from his blaster, resting it casually on his belt buckle. “Why?”

Simple enough question, simple enough answer. But I didn’t feel like answering him. Opening my mouth to respond, a cooing sound interrupted me. It sounded like it was coming from the bundle still shielded in his injured arm.

Snapping my jaw shut with a painfully audible click, I raised my eyebrows pointedly at him. “Trafficking something illegal there, chakaar?” Anxiety clenched my stomach in its viselike grip, and I had to force the bile from rising in my throat. I was still weak from Bosph, but if he was buying and selling living beings to make a living, he was no better than my ex-boss. No better than me. Which meant I was going to have to hurt him or die trying.

A sharp hiss of an inhale through the vocoder told me I’d hit on something. Something he didn’t want me knowing. A whispery stream of very impolite Mando’a floated in the space between us. The air was thick with tension, and both of us were patiently waiting for the other to make the next move.

The coo came again, slightly muffled, followed by a bubbly giggle, startling us out of our stare-down. The bundle wriggled, and the Mandalorian shifted his attention from me to it as the thing became too much to handle with one injured arm. Grunting either out of pain or frustration, the bounty hunter stepped backwards until he was in the doorway of the bunk. Squeaking and chittering indignantly, the lump in the clothes broke free with a victorious huff.

And it was the cutest fragging thing I’d ever laid my eyes on.

_____________________

Notes:

chakaar - corpse robber, thief, petty criminal - general term of abuse shabuir - extreme insult - *jerk*, but much stronger

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jcsters · 1 year ago

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Myria couldn't help the cackling that left her body; a bit too loud, and a bit too crackly - like a real witch, hand clasping over her mouth to stifle the honking laughter. "I feel like I'm there right now - rest in peace Finn - you beefy singing jock," She kneeled down besides Stuart, wiping the actual tears from her eyes before placing two displaced petals over his eyes; mimicking passage into the afterlife. "I wasn't really going to like, sell them - I was just going to decorate the funeral home like, for freesies. It feels like - kinda ironic now? Putting like, crushed dead flowers in a funeral home with like, already dead but like, probably not crushed? dead people in it." Someone could be crushed when she got there - Myria had seen a myriad of odd deaths since she'd begun working as a mortician. She'd had to deal with frozen bodies before - why not a crushed one? "Should I have a funeral for my funeral flowers? I feel like they deserve a send-off now, like maybe a viking funeral - those always sounded really fun. I think I have an archery set somewhere."

If spatial awareness could be considered a talent, then Stuart would get a golden buzzer shining out of his ass, but he was as graceful as a newborn giraffe. It was comically tragic to live with the idea that dying from slipping on a banana peel was already written in the stars. After his brain spun its way backwards to the original position, Stuart quickly scooped up a few stray roses into a bouquet and laid down on the sticky cement, clutching it to his chest. “New funeral song unlocked. Lay me down on a bed of roses, Santana Lopez, you fucking legend!” The next millisecond, a few birds migrated across the street. Stuart then pulled out a few crushed flowers from under him and watched the limp stems wave in the wind. “You could still sell these, like, surely. Someone's gonna want ass-tulips. It's practically nature's underwear.”

#––– ❛ replies 【 little blurry stars scattered all across. 】#c:quinn stuart francisco #death tw #i did that name by memory i hope i wrote it right<3 #i wont lie to u daisy i rewatched santana singing it and then cried

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tanjamikaelson · 6 years ago

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LOVE FOR ETERNITY - PART 54

MASTERLIST

PART 54: | AIN’T NO REST FOR THE WICKED |

There was a party going on at the Fangtasia when Klaus stormed into a club. He was pissed off that they almost killed Cami.

He then ripped two hearts of a vampire and human that were standing in his way. He yelled for Natali and Kol while stumbling through the crowd of people until he reached podium with thrones where the two of them were sitting.

- “I’m going to need to put a barrier spell again so he can’t come and go as he pleases.” Natali remarked when she saw Klaus and they’ve already knew why he came.

Klaus took one more step towards them, but he was faced with two vampires who were their “bodyguards”. He didn’t think twice before ripping their hearts out in one swift movement.

When their bodies fell onto the floor he looks towards Natali and Kol and sees that they are angry as much as he is.

- “Who are you to kill our vampires?” Natali growled losing her temper.

Kol steps forwards and shoves Klaus hard in the chest.

- Klaus shoves him back and says, “And you almost killed Cami.”

- “Who cares about that bartender.” Kol throws a remark that he knew Klaus won’t like.

- “If we wanted to kill her we would.” Natali tells him.

- Klaus pointed at them, “If you try to touch her again-”

- “What then?” Kol questioned his brother, “You won’t be able to defend her from the coffin.”

Speaking about Cami was one thing, but getting a threat of being put back into a coffin was the final straw. Klaus lunges towards Kol and takes a swing at him, hitting him right into his jaw and causing him to hiss out in pain. Kol liked when he manages to piss of his brother and to see the mad glint in his brother's eyes. He then pushes Klaus backwards and Klaus falls off of the podium where they were standing. Swiftly he raises onto his feet and zooms towards Kol again. He grabs him by his t-shirt and throws him into the crowd, causing few people to fall due to Kol falling on them. When Kol got up on his feet the two of them began fighting, throwing vicious blows at one another. And they’ve moved so fast it was like watching a blurry movie.

Meanwhile Natali left upstairs into their apartment. She opened a safe where they were keeping gold daggers. When she came back downstairs she heard a glass shatter somewhere across the room. She flashed there and saw Kol laying on the ground because Klaus snapped his neck, but he was nowhere to be found until she felt a gush of wind behind her but before she managed to turn around Klaus also snapped her neck.

- He let her body to fall onto the floor and kneels down to take a dagger, “Thank you very much, love.” he says and vamp speeds away.

The party was over after Klaus did what he did. When Natali woke up she was laying in her bed and Kol was standing by the window and watching the city.

- “He took a dagger.” Natali says to him, “Tell me he didn’t took that dagger.”

- Kol turns around and looks at her, “I’m afraid he did. But don’t worry we have more.”

- “I know. I just hate when he takes the dagger.” Natali tells him as she walks closer to him.

- “What are we gonna do now?” Kol asks.

- “What? I’m gonna kill that bartender once and for all.” Natali says angrily.

- Kol smirks, “I’m pretty sure she’s highly protected right now.”

- “Well I’m gonna strike when they least expect it.” Natali says and smirks wickedly.

- “But till then..” Kol says placing his hand on her waist, “I know something better we can do.” he drew her in close to him and gently kissed her lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she returned the kiss.

She arched up into him and made a little sound, as if pleading with him so he could deepen the kiss, and he did. He ravaged her mouth and gazed his tongue over her lips. Unable to stop himself, he lowered his hands to her bottom and lifted her until her legs straddled his waist. Now her head was higher than his and she leaned over to him, continuing their kisses.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

Kol compelled repair mans to fix the club after his fight with Klaus. He was sitting at the bar and drinking a glass of whiskey while Natali was still in bed sleeping. He heard a door of a club opening and turned around just to see Rebekah entering.

- Sister, what brings you here?” Kol asked.

- “I’ve heard that Klaus and you had a fight last night.” Rebekah tells him.

- “Yeah. Well, he started it.” Kol says with a little but of annoyance to his voice.

- “Why did you two hurt that girl, Cami?” Rebekah asked as she sat next to him.

- “She had our dark objects, so we just drained her off of vervain and compelled her.” Kol replied to his sister

- “Right, dark objects.” Rebekah remarked.

- “I know you also don’t like that bartender, she and Marcel have something going on between them.” Kol told her.

- “They had.” Rebekah corrected him, “And yeah, okay. Maybe I did came to their first date and choke her.”

- Kol looks at her with a smirk forming on his face, “You did?”

- “Yes, I did.” Rebekah tells him.

- “Well I’m proud of you sister.” Kol told her.

- “Shut up. It’s not like that did me any favour.” Rebekah says and takes a sip of his drink.

- “That’s just because Marcel is stupid and would rather date a human.” Kol told her.

- “You know I don’t like when you talk bad about Marcel.” Rebkah reminded him.

- “And that’s exactly why I’m doing that.” Kol said with satisfaction.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

[NEW ORLEANS, DECEMBER: 1914.]

Just as Kol and Natali walked into the Play house, they saw Mary-Alice and Astrid jumping back and holding their wounded hands to their chest.

- “A look of impatience smeared across Kol's face.” You've been working on this for weeks and my family goes even more insufferable during the holidays. We need to finish.

Mary-Alice frowned setting down the silver dagger as Astrid began to clean the spilled potions and shards of broken glass off the floor, the result of their failed spell.

- “We tried everything Kol. We need a bigger diamond.” Mary-Alice scowled, her tone coated with repulsion as Natali’s eyes captured the foolish, love-sick looks she was giving to Kol.

- “There is no bigger diamond.” Kol said scornfully, tension entering his already rigid body.

- “There may be.” Mary-Alice said softly, “That gossip Genevieve had a rumor that the dowager Folly keeps a massive gem hidden inside her mansion. That's why she never leaves. She's worried someone will steal it.”

Kol tilted his head to the side, a dangerous smile creeping onto his face, as interest ignited his eyes.

- “She never leaves, you say.” Natali stated, her eyes darkening at Mary-Alice.

- “Only once a week, for a Sunday Mass.” Astrid said, her eyes narrowing when she saw the smirk on their faces, “Don't you harm her. She's innocent.”

- “No one is innocent, Astrid.” Natali told her and Kol grinned at the witch, before they turned around ready to leave.

- “We're going to slaughter anyone for that diamond.” Kol remarked as they continued their way out of the cemetery.

- “And we have a luck that tomorrow is sunday.” Natali continued.

- “Well darling, that's our early Christmas present.” Kol said with an evil smile.

- “And I hope another present will be Klaus rotting in the box.” Natali said returning an evil smile to Kol.

While they were returning to the compound Natali saw Freya across the street and told Kol, “Hey, let's invite that girl Freya to the Christmas Ball.”

- “She didn’t even wanted to help us.” Kol said.

- “Maybe you lost your charm.” Natali joked.

- “And you're going to lose that dress of yours.” Kol said.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

Dozen of bodies were scattered around the church, some with their heads torn off or hearts torn out. They also tried devil's star and it's working perfectly.

- “You're a monsters!” Astrid stated as she saw all the dead bodies that Kol and Natali killed at the church.

- Natali smiled happily, licking the blood from her finger, as she looked over the dead bodies, “Well, thank you.”

- Kol chuckled, taking out a handkerchief from his coat, “We didn't know how the dowager looked like, best is to kill them all.” he said and Natali nodded.

The witches held their hands over their noses to stop the smell of the corpses hitting their senses. It was horrid, bloody picture that they feared they'd never rid of. Kol and Natali stood happily, she wiped blood from Kol's cheek and popped it into her mouth.

- “You knew she didn't look like the altar boy.” Astrid remarked.

- “I was parched.” Natali drawled, Kol glared angrily at the young witch, almost close to snapping her neck when he saw her glaring at Natali.

- Kol held his hand out to Natali and she took it. He led her down the steps, she held the bottom of her dress with a hand as they avoided the bodies and puddles of blood. Then Kol turned to the witches, smiling happily, “Well, we're off to a family dinner now. We'll see you tonight.”

- “We're not helping you.” Astrid spat at him.

- Natali’s eyes darkening at Astrid, as she shouted, “What did you just said?” Astrid flinched and swallowed thickly as Natali’s fangs extracted for a moment, before her human face returned.

- Mary-Alice placed her hand on Astrid's shoulder, pulling her back, “We've come this far, Astrid.” The witch sadly nodded and Kol grinned.

Then Natali and Kol walked off. As they left the church Natali mimicked what Mary-Alice said.

- Kol laughs, as she told him, “God, she is acting like that just because she has some weird crush on you.”

- “Well who doesn't, darling.” Kol stated, putting his hand around her shoulder and pulling her closer to him. She rolled her eyes not saying anything as they continued to walk towards the compound. They’ve had no regrets about the massacre, happily going to a family dinner soon after.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

Dinner like usual didn't went well, so Kol and Natali left earlier. They needed to meet with Astrid and Mary-Alice at their Play house, so they walked there. For this particularly cold december night, sky was clear and beautiful, with all the stars illuminating dark night sky.

When they came to the Play house the two witches were already there, waiting for them.

- “Hello ladies.” Kol said entering the room, “Family dinner wasn’t somewhere where we would stay till the end, so we might as well get back to work.”

- “And what makes you think we should still hang on with every word you say. Because of your good looks or because you two have a habit of bossing around?” Astrid made a statement more than it was a question.

- “Bravo, Astrid, bravo.” clapping fills the room, “I'm sure your witchy friend doesn't agree with you, maybe just with that "good looks" part.” Natali remarked looking at Mary-Alice as she keeps on clinging to her awkward silence.

- But Astrid has a lot to say, like always, “You two are monsters. Cruel, murderous, without the slightest feeling of empathy towards people you kill.”

- “If you're done, may I suggest getting back to work.” Kol insisted.

- “Now chop-chop.” Natali said clapping her hands twice, “The night is still young.”

And the two witches didn't have any other choice than to get back to work.

For some time Astrid and Mary-Alice were making more Dark Objects, while Natali was sitting on the desk and supervised them. Kol was walking around the room, also watching them. When he walked besides Natali, he stopped and leaned closer putting his hands on the desk. Natali smiled seductively at him, as he smirked back at her.

- “Do you want one more early Christmas present, darling?” Kol asked leaning closer to her lips.

- “You know I could never say no, to this gift.” Natali said touching down his chest, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. Then Kol leaned closer and captured her lips with his own.

- “Should we get going?” Astrid questioned, while Mary-Alice was trying not to look at them kissing.

- Kol pulled an inch away, saying to them, “Yes. And darlings, don't forget tomorrow around 6 pm to meet us in front of Fauline's house. Astrid you'll wait us in her house.”

They both nodded and left the Playhouse as fast as they could.

- “Now, where did we left of.” Kol said smirking.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

"His hands on her waist. His lips in her neck. Pure heaven."

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

MASTERLIST

Tags: @mikaelsonsmagic @p3nny4urth0ught5 @cute-freak27 @ias-born @superhalsteads @characterobsessed @hinata7346 @luiza-4-ever @huntress1428

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