#FEStival Fiasco

[shootingstarwritings]

FEStival Fiasco

Part 7

The Puppet that Played at being a Star

A lie.

That was all Centaurus could think when Professor Polaris said that.

“Y-You’re lying to me,” he said, wincing and chiding himself as he heard how shaky his own voice was. Why was he so nervous? His heart was pounding. Every pump was like a hammer to his temple. “You can’t be telling the truth… the whole war, being a lie?!”

It was far too ridiculous to be true.

No, it wasn’t just that.

If there truly was no war, then why was Centaurus born, nameless and abandoned, in those mines? Why did so many others before and after him? Why did so many of his fellow brethren die cold, hungry, alone, and in pain?

‘Did my suffering not matter? Did theirs? Did they all have no meaning?’

To believe the professor would be to accept those thoughts. And if Centaurus did accept them…

Why was he even here? Why was he even alive?

“Liar…! You piece of shit, I oughta kill you right here!”

Polaris’ expression remained unchanged; unwavering even as Centaurus charged him and grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt.

“Where the hell do you get off mocking me?!” Centaurus demanded, spit flying. “Huh?! You bastard, you better tell me the truth right now or—!”

“You already know a way to see if I’m lying or not.” Polaris quirked an eyebrow, licking his lips. “You’ve seen your hosts’ memories, haven’t you? Well, it works for each other as well.” He smirked. “It really makes you wonder what was the real purpose behind our species’ ability to interact and share with each other’s neural networks. Maybe we were meant to communicate better with each other this whole time, huh…? Centaurus, what do you think?”

Centaurus’ grip slowly loosened as he took in Polaris’ words. “You want me to bite you, as though I was possessing someone,” he said, arms fell to the side, hanging limply as though they were lead weights. “I’ve… I’ve never done something like this.” When had his host begun sweating so much? When did he start trembling? What was Centaurus so afraid of?

‘Why am I even here?’ Once more, that question came to him, but he quickly shook it away.”

“Curious?”

“… Of course I am.”

“Well? Are you going to do it or not?” Polaris, still smirking, tilted his head forward so as to touch Centaurus’ borrowed forehead with his own. “I have high hopes for you, Centaurus. Search my mind, and don’t hide away from the truth.”

“… Are you taunting me…? Centaurus asked, drained enough that he couldn’t even remain angry at Polaris.

Professor Polaris let out a chuckle, pulling Centaurus in for a tight embrace. “I saw your potential, y’know? That’s why I fought hard to allow the board of our academy to allow you to attend. And more specifically, to allow me to become your teacher. Haven’t you ever wondered why a former military commander became a professor? It’s because I insisted.”

Certain details made more sense, but there was still someone odd about all of this. “But, why? Why did you want me to join the academy? Y’know I was a worm, so then…?”

“Because whether they like it or not, it’s only by meeting another with widely different circumstances that these students’ worlds actually expand. Without you, there’s no way that any of them will ever grow. But the reverse also applies to you. There’s no way you will the true injustices of the world without witnessing those who inhabit it. This is how the seeds of revolution can be planted. It’s the only way that society will ever change.”

Centaurus, frowning, scoffed and pointedly looked away. “This is such bullshit,” he muttered. “So I was just a puppet for you to manipulate? A tool for your little play at a revolution?”

It always felt as though he was being pushed and pulled by forces beyond his understanding. Whether it was the Elites who looked down on him from their ivory world or the coach who stood before him, Centaurus was just dancing to a tune that only he couldn’t hear. “What am I, Polaris? Am I just something to be used, or am I someone who can choose his own fate? Am I… simply a worm…?”

Coach Polaris’ expression grew grim. A heavy silence spread throughout the dark room. To Centaurus, it felt like “Judgment Day,” an event that held considerable importance in his host’s mind. Yes, Centaurus’ world felt like it was about to crumble before him. His purpose seemed scattered in the wind, as though it was about to vanish when it was so close in his grasp. He thought that he was building his own fate, a path that he crafted with his own hands.

Yet… that was never the case.

“Who am I?” Centaurus asked again.

“You’re… you. That’s all. That’s what you decided for yourself, right? ‘Centaurus,’ named after the sun that everything in our world revolves around. That was the point, wasn’t it?”

Centaurus hesitated, just for a moment. “Yeah, but not quite. I… I loved that sunrise that I saw, the first time I ever left those tunnels. And, I wanted to be that for others. Other worms that had spent their lives underground. I wanted to be like that beautiful sight that inspired me to finally live—finally retake myself. If just another one of my brothers and sisters was inspired, then I’d make it all worth it.”

That settled it. The truth was right before him, and Centaurus would sooner die than allow it to escape his grasp. He carried not just his own life, but all of those that came and died before him in those damn tunnels. Centaurus nodded and stepped forward.

It began.

“Allow me to show you,” said Coach Polaris, walking in a circle as Centaurus slowly spun, eyes glaring down at Polaris’ host. They moved as though following a rhythm only they could hear. Somehow, it felt right. The two moved and swayed as they approached, their fingers intertwining as they waltzed in the dark. “Is this instinct? Fate?” asked Polaris.

Centaurus shut his eyes and shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m just doing what I’m supposed to.” He was leading for whatever reason. Was it his host’s idea? Muscle memories that were flowing out in this moment? “I’m doing what feels right.”

“It’s a forgotten dance in our people,” said Polaris. “We were meant to share our minds, our souls, with each other. But this hierarchy prevented that. This is the dawn of a new age, Centaurus. This is—”

“I don’t know if this is true or not yet,” growled Centaurus. “Let’s… Let’s just do this.” Deep down, he was trembling, but he threw himself towards the fire anyway. Centaurus leaned in and kissed Polaris’ host. He slithered through their intimate kiss into Polaris’ borrowed body.

The host choked and struggled as yet another creature slithered into his body. It was difficult for his body to withstand it as Centaurus crawled into his brain. The two snake-like creatures danced and chased the other's tail, following their instinct like always. An ouroboros. A dragon that would wrap around the world.

Centaurus' vision grew dark as foreign sensations flooded his body. It was a trade. Their minds, memories, souls, and hearts were all shared. It was an electric experience, somehow more intimate than sex yet somehow more universal at the same time. It was like he was ascending to the heavens or reaching Nirvana.

When Centaurus’ vision returned, he was staring up at a starry sky on unfamiliar soil. This wasn’t his memory, he had never seen this sight before. Yes, this was from Polaris. It was a hazy sight and he couldn’t move. It was like he was watching an old film that had been rescued from the clutches of being lost forever.

The stars looked more like streamers zooming by as fireworks lit up the night sky.

“You promised you would come home soon.”

Those weren’t Centaurus’ thoughts, but he heard them all the same.

“You promised you’d come back to them; and promised to come back to me. I waited for you on the ground, wishing on the stars that flew next to you to bring you back safe.”

A shooting star came barreling down the sky, a trail of smoke and flames right behind it. Centaurus’ heart raced as terror and despair flooded his mind.

“Why did you have to die…? I loved you. I loved you so much…”

His heart broke. Not Centaurus’, but Polaris. These were Polaris' thoughts. And the ship he Centaurus focused on carried the one whom he had longed for ever since he could remember. “I didn’t mind you finding another mate and building a family as long as I could remain by your side. How was I supposed to tell them you were gone? How could you take my love and leave me behind…?”

Zathina’s father, Altair, died on that day. His son, Vega, perished soon after in the same dogfight. There was little of each body to bury, a right both of them had.

Polaris mourned and suffered, and Centaurus felt each heartache as though they were his own.

‘So that’s why he wants to watch over her,’ thought Centaurus.

“All that remained of you was that child—Zathina. So I tried to help her, tried to keep her safe. She became hardened and strong, but I could still see the scars in her heart. She stood on her own, but it had crushed her completely to do so. It was like a vase that had been shattered and put back together. Though it still stood, it was far more fragile than ever before.

“And, I wanted to find out the truth. I wanted to know why you had to die, why this war that took you away continued to drag on despite victory after victory.

What was found… was schematics of the enemy’s ship, military plans based on their battle tactics, and receipts for expenses that had been kept secret. When Polaris found them, only one conclusion made sense.

“The ships you had fought that day… were built by our very own military. Not just on that day, but every combat you had ever flown on, and even before that. None of them were piloted by our enemy, the Carinos. In fact, they were more than likely extinct. Wiped out by us.”

When had the conflict ended…? For how long had the war been fabricated. How many of their own did the Emperor sacrifice for the status quo to continue? Those were the questions that raced through Polaris’ mind all those years ago. He had discovered the truth; he understood that there was no reason behind Altair’s death. He died for nothing. And a part of Polaris died along with him.

“I couldn’t stand being in that department for much longer. I left. I had to leave. If I didn’t, I was certain I would kill someone. Most of us there didn’t know the truth, but some of them did. Yes, the higher-ups must’ve known. I needed to leave and go elsewhere before I tried to make them pay. If I got myself killed before exposing the truth to everyone, I wouldn’t be able to avenge you, my love. So I left and joined the educational department. If I could make a difference with our youth, if I worked to change everything…”

It wasn’t long before Polaris discovered and joined an underground revolution. His eyes were open, and his mind would follow soon after. So much of life, even among the Elites, was hidden and censored by the Emperor and his council.

“Did you know, my dear Altair, that they no longer wish to be called ‘Worms?’ That’s right, they want to be Cosmopolitans; those who are found everywhere, those who are ubiquitous. Elites and Worms are to become useless terms. We all want to become Cosmopolitans. That’s what freedom is, right?”

Time passed, and eventually Polaris came to find someone named ‘Centaurus’ trying to apply to the academy. It had taken urging for the school board to accept him, but Polaris’ reputation was a major help. Perhaps his young one would join the revolution. Perhaps he would be a good influence on those Elites that had little knowledge of the people that were forced below them.

‘It was him… Polaris had been… guiding me along…

‘And… it was really a lie…

‘A lie… the war… the society that had been shaped by it… it was all falsehoods.

‘They died…

‘For nothing…’

“I’ll kill him. The Emperor. I swear I’ll kill him. I won’t rest until my hands are around his thorax.”

The last sight The Emperor would see was a shining star sending him to hell. Centaurus swore on that.

[orangepterodactyl]

happy new year (again)!

[girderednerve]

maybe i am just too frail & stupid for work? ubi now for delicate, foolish hothouse flowers like me

[dany36]

GOT THEEEEEM!!!!!! FUCK YES!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳 can’t wait to see her again with the sis!!! ☺️☺���☺️☺️

[middlegradeeveryday]

Math Mysteries: The Fall Festival Fiasco by Aaron Starmer

Summary: Autumn has arrived and the fourth graders at Arthimos Elementary couldn't be more excited for the Fall Festival! But when the tickets go missing, the pie eating contest is sabotoged, and a suspiciously humongous pumpkin shows up, will anyone be able to save the day and catch the culprit? The school's best (and only) investigators are on the case, The Prime Detectives--Abby “the Abacus” Feldstein, Cameron “Cam” McGill, and Gabriel “Gabe” Kim. Using arithmetic, geometry, and logic, the Prime Detectives will stop at nothing to figure out who did what, when, and why!

Genre: Mystery

Book Type: Novel

[news-magazine]

CANNES Pierre Niney attend the "Fiasco" Photocall during the 7th Canneseries International

[tanuandthetriplets]

Diwali Aur Tayari - Bina Triplets Wali!! | Diwali Celebration - Triplets Vlog - 13th Nov’23

[staryuee]

WHAT THEY DO WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE!

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread, dainsleif/pantalone may be ooc (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . just cute habits, actions etc that they do, whether intentionally or not, after being struck with cupid’s arrow.

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . jean, diluc, zhongli, xiao, nilou, xianyun, dehya, wanderer, arlecchino, pantalone, dainsleif

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . scrolling through the genshin tag makes me wanna die sometimes…i’m trying to do investigative work and i have to quickly scroll past the same smutty language like it’s booktok torture + also i’ve been playing baldurs gate 3 for the past several days and i think i’ve developed a problem…

G. JEAN — 琴

ʚ jean is very subtle in the way she loves someone, she doesn’t want to keep it secret per se, but her love is always almost adjacent to a puppy crush; something that seems fleeting but in the long run returns harder and hits oh so much worse.

ʚ she can’t necessarily abuse her powers, and she wouldn’t dare dream of messing up the order she so carefully has managed to maintain, so the way she tries to convey her feelings across isn’t too brash or loud.

ʚ simple things like letting her hands brush against yours when she passes you documents, allowing you to visit her office whenever you please even if it’s to just sprawl down at a nearby couch and read a book you found in the library while meandering, and even letting you join her on her daily walks across the courtyard.

ʚ during windblume festivals she won’t hesitate to strike up a seemingly harmless and friendly conversation, all the while sneaking a flower into your hair that resembles the feelings you stir up inside her fuzzy heart.

ʚ jean is overall quite an awkward person when it comes to anything related to romantic or plantoic ties, she’s a bit of a people pleaser in that way where she prefers to assume everyone’s a friend before an enemy… or in this case, “interested”.

ʚ with backup and sought guidance from her good friends lisa and kaeya, she’ll try a myriad of tactics to get you to notice her; a little shoulder massage there, a heartfelt sticky note placed on your workstation there, inviting you to classic candlelit dinners etc.

ʚ yes, believe me, she even tried the cartoonish “rose bit between teeth and uncomfortably arched side lean on a wall” approach before deciding it’s much better to listen to herself than the flamboyant duo.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

ʚ diluc is the actual epitome of a gentleman. his love is so pure and genuine you can’t help but flower press every petal from the various bouquet he personally delivers to you on special occasions (anything from you completing a particularly hard or draining mission to doing something you thought you’d suck at).

ʚ his coat is also yours now. it’s like a six sense at this point to notice when you’re shivering out in the cold winds, and it’s become even more of a routine for him to simply shed that fluffy coat of his and drape it appropriately over your shoulders, trying to maintain a comfortable distance between you two as he adjusts it both to ease your tension and assure the pounding of his heart goes unheard.

ʚ diluc doesn’t enjoy using his riches to woo someone, it’s uncouth and just shows a desperation unbecoming of someone who dates to marry. if he wants to know you’re in it for the long haul, he’ll be much more sensitive and thoughtful when picking out gifts for you, each them have to hold some level of significance in your life.

ʚ the whole fiasco with his poor maids and some sneaky, perverse stalkers and diluc’s flaming great sword certainly applies to you as well; he’ll quietly ensure your safety in the night, helping you walk home with his arm hooked under yours, and in broad daylight he won’t hesitate to swing that polished wolf’s gravestone of his against any onlookers.

ʚ diluc is extremely closed off but deeply sentimental, he can so easily find himself rambling about his childhood stories to you; anything from how he used to collect seashells with kaeya to bring back to their dad, or how him and jean used to let baby barbara braid their hair together while babysitting…to things that are slightly more troublesome and heart wrenching to even mutter.

ʚ he may be less vocal than most in terms of feelings, but that doesn’t mean he won’t commit to it if he’s in love with someone. diluc isn’t the slightest bit dumb, he understand in order to get his feelings across he needs to do more than take random days off to spend time with you, he needs to at least hint it in a way that clearly gets his intentions across.

ʚ believe me, whenever you come by to dawn winery per notice, everyone raises a brow at you with curious smirks and gazes as diluc nearly stumbles on his words to get the phrase: “you look lovely tonight” out.

ZHONGLI — 钟离

ʚ he has up to thousands years of romantic customs under his belt, he understands the vague signs and ways to further communicate how much he adores you.

ʚ … that would be the case in its full if not for the fact for the first thousand couple years of his life he wasn’t busy maiming other gods and shedding blood. safe to say, his memories of mortal “courting” is slightly, if not absolutely, a massive, weaving and overlapping trail of various centuries and cultures he’s been accustomed to; anything ranging from the days when khaenri’ah was still in its prime to nowadays with newfound slang.

ʚ he’ll recite the most beautifully heartfelt and awfully sincere poem all the while you’re fighting your life in a haunted house (he’s heard this activity is helpful to get couples closer to one another, and given the fact you’re clinging on for dear life at the edge of his coat, he assumes he’s on the right track!)

ʚ he wants to impress you while also maintaining an air of genuineness to his actions, and while that does sometimes end in awkward situations where he ends up wearing regal attire to what’s supposed to be a casual dinner at wangmin, his heart remains completely pure in its endeavours.

ʚ oh, let’s not forget this man is quite literally a dragon too!

ʚ sometimes he can forget you don’t have the same complexion as him and will proudly present you some sort of glimmering relic from his hoard, forgetting that certain materials that existed back in the day were deadly and or toxic for mortals to touch let alone possess.

ʚ with a little nudge in the right direction, he’ll quickly learn everything there is to know for how to properly handle your precious heart. whatever you’d like, you may have — if it’s within his reach, that is. but it doesn’t mean he’ll stop at what’s available, no, just how much he’s willing to risk for you.

XIAO — 魈

ʚ he’s already embarrassed and awkward enough with accepting the fact he likes you, so accepting the fact that he loves you had left him with a lengthy exorcism spree down in some forgotten areas in liyue (it didn’t help).

ʚ in all honestly, not much changes; both because he’s rather emotionally constipated but also because he’s more than sure he’s loved you for longer than he seems to currently acknowledge.

ʚ letters that came only on special occasions like your birthday or his became much more frequent and a lot less poetic, it felt more like he was writing about his thoughts at the time, a little akin to how you’ve made him feel less constricted and much more free; he can finally have the courage to step out of his comfort zone.

ʚ all those small acts of love he used to subtly express (i.e gifting you two crystaflies, personally inviting you to come hang out, etc) he manages to double, he can’t have you thinking his intentions are the same as before. no, they’re much stronger now.

ʚ his guard softens around you regardless, but when you randomly fall asleep on his shoulder on your weekly visits at wangshu inn, instead of taking you to one of the rooms, he’ll sit there and allow you to rest, and if he’s assured you’re not awake to ridicule him, maybe, just maybe…he’ll sneakily loop his arm around your waist.

ʚ even just the thought of you makes him spiral into daydreaming, sitting atop a tree and swinging his leg back and forth carelessly as he stares up at the night to await for a new light, knowing full well the only sun he wants to see is you…just imagining his hands holding your waist like they did so long ago makes him shiver (hopefully this time he’ll get to do it when you’re not falling, and instead are falling for him)

NILOU — 妮露

ʚ nilou is basically a disney princess, if you see her singing to random birds that come watch her performances, everyone in the grand bazaar already knows it’s because you’ll be in the crowd that night.

ʚ each step within her routines are done with the little more passion, if that even is possible given her character, all because she imagines that pride and hopeful heart eyes in your eyes as all the attention is on her.

ʚ sometimes this fixation can lead to dumb mistakes on stage which bring her to sulking away with a hand on her forehead dabbing away at the sweat, but even the mention of your name as you pass by several sumeru streets is enough for her to brighten, do a quick wardrobe switch and run off to tackle you within her embrace.

ʚ nilou is not loud, but definitely not subtle. the exact representation of how she feels when you come to encourage her at her lowest (though those days are few). you’re there for her in ways you don’t imagine, and that alone is enough for her to daze away into the night as she cuddles her pillow, legs wrapped around it and all, and begins thinking about the what ifs of your relationship.

ʚ sometimes it’s a little comedic the way she speaks about you, it almost sounds like she’s reminiscing about a fictional book character with how much she takes pride in whatever little thing you do. no one tires of seeing her footsteps lightly tap against the ground in circles as she gushes about how when you complimented her the other day, you touched her cheek seemingly subconsciously ∩^ω^∩

XIANYUN — 闲云

ʚ she’s a little embarrassed at just how obvious she can be sometimes, it doesn’t help the fact her own children keep using this love of hers to their advantage.

ʚ she keeps nagging them about not taking care of themselves (she’s all too keen about their health and whereabouts now that she dwells alongside liyuean people) and yet just the mention of your name has her slightly stuttering in a ditzy trance as she hooks her glasses back up her nose bridge.

ʚ without hesitance, she’ll show you a photo album she has of all those close to her; would you like to see the drawing little ganyu made when she just barely had her horns? or perhaps the polearm young shenhe broke when she miscalculated her own strength in training?

ʚ her family is her pride and joy, it’s only natural for her to want you to be part of it even if it’s something as silly as raking through photos of a chubby ganyu eating the stem of a flower or teeny shenhe napping on a tree.

ʚ a peaceful life mingling with mortals has left her with ample time to enjoy the trivialities of life, and yet she finds her mind all too quickly wandering to you; had you been taking care of yourself? were you feeling lonely? did you need her to make something for you?

ʚ a secretive worry wart that quickly becomes that ancient adetpus she used to pride herself as soon as your delicate hands accidentally brush against hers; suddenly she’s perked up, chest heaven up high with a confident hand on her shoulder: you wouldn’t even think that flurry of pink hues gushing across her cheeks was real if not for the light providing evidence.

DEHYA — 迪希雅

ʚ oh she’s absolutely ecstatic!!

ʚ there’s genuinely nothing better than love in her eyes, especially just having the ability to love and trust someone fully when you haven’t been able to do so for a plethora of years.

ʚ doesn’t try to hide it, like at all, if anything she makes it rather obvious with the way she constantly pulls you closer as if you were already an item, arms constantly clinging onto you and your sides or her hands messing up your hair as you greet her.

ʚ she’ll take you anywhere you ask, free of charge of course (just promise to smile…and maybe if you’re up for it give her a kiss on the cheek, that’s sure to be enough reimbursement).

ʚ she’s already quite a confident and outwardly friendly person (if the price is right that is) but when in your presence? what’s wrong with just a little bit of showing off…

ʚ dehya needs you to see the best side of her!! maybe then you’ll finally give in and realise that her constantly asking for you to come join her on her travels and commissions isn’t brought out of mere timed coincidence

WANDERER — 流浪者

ʚ i saw that a few people were upset and confused by wanderer’s sudden switch up into being more kind/friendly, but i think we all forget what kind of person he was before his betrayals.

ʚ he loves wholeheartedly, if he adores something it consumes him in a warm pit of mushy domesticity — he doesn’t hate love or being kind, he hates the way it makes him vulnerable and the way it reminds him of the way he used to be.

ʚ that also means he’ll completely ignore you, or, try his best to rather.

ʚ wanderer knows within his heart that he completely years for you, just the accidental slip of his gaze meeting yours makes his brain go haywire, sending volts of electricity down his spine — you make him feel so alive.

ʚ it’s terrifying to return to a person you once were especially now with the knowledge of how being the way you were lead to some sort of tragedy, he’s managed to build up these walls so high and here you were, sneaking in through cracks he didn’t even know he had.

ʚ and he both loves it and hates it; loves the fact he can still feel, but hates how he’s so easily susceptible.

ʚ loving you turns into self-loathing and brooding, his feet pacing up and down every street at night to clear his muddled head. small distractions like taking strolls in meadows or sleeping up in the vines of trees lead to just thoughts of you and you alone.

ʚ wanderer refuses to be overly friendly and buddy-buddy with you even if he’s aware that if you decided to just one day hold him sincerely he’d burst into tears, but he can compromise with being less cutthroat.

ʚ “shut the fuck up” turns into him just rolling his eyes at you as you ramble (he soaks up any piece of information he can and locks it away), items you gift him now are more apparent in their value as he yells at those who dare question the dumb aranara pin you bought him and placed sneakily on his hat…oh and he gives you hat privileges.

ʚ it’s raining? …get close to him so you don’t begin complaining about the way the rain feels on your skin.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

ʚ she starts treating you less like an asset in her “contact if in need of assistance” roster and more like a friend — of course, she maintains that distance between you two, but she lets you wriggle around in her heart to see if you manage to fit.

ʚ chances are, you will — unknowingly she’d grown to love you in ways that may have even gone unnoticed by her given how natural they were; inviting you to random gatherings when the whim arises, pulling your chair out for you when out for brunch, or even tucking away strands of hair and twirling it around playfully.

ʚ arlecchino’s love isn’t something immediate or expected, she’s a woman who keeps every card close to her chest and her children even closer, you have to prove to her that you’re worth it, in a way that doesn’t necessarily mean spilling blood but more so answers the question: do you care, and are you willing to accept her blinding love?

ʚ it’s like a shepherd dog with a lost lamb, but that little sheep is just you, and she’s a wolf in need of a muse.

ʚ cute tea parties aren’t uncommon with the two of you, she’ll happily let you indulge yourself in treats as she leans back with scorching tea in her hands while memorising every curve of your lips as you chew and swallow, she loves watching the way your eyes crinkle when you smile and the little sway from side to side you occasionally do as an expression of joy.

ʚ once arlecchino notices that she’s began treating you as another authority figure in the house of hearth, she’ll reach and collar you gently, intertwining her dark, cursed hand into your flowery one.

PANTALONE — 潘塔罗涅

ʚ one of the most attractive qualities a man can have is knowing when to shut the fuck up and to slide his card over during a dinner — both such things pantalone can do effortlessly, especially when it comes to you.

ʚ arlecchino claims that: “he allows his actions to be governed by the vengeance and hatred locked in the depths of his heart.” something that definitely translates into his love affairs in more than obsessive manners.

ʚ don’t be afraid of the massive hauls of clothing and sparkling jewellery galore that are being trudged in by multiple men, darling, it’s just a menial souvenir from his latest travels and newfound connections that he thought you might enjoy ^^

ʚ while his grandeur usually stems from his deep hearted desire to overthrow the imbalance between immortals and mortals, rest assured the luxury he provides you purely stems from his desire to make you his.

ʚ whether that entails you being his pet for him to seek comfort from on the occasion or a genuine connection where he can comfortably hold you at night purely depends on you.

ʚ oh, you’ll let him chew your ear off about his recent expedition and extravagant plan? consider your rent payed for the next few months and a few kisses on your cheek that certainly aren’t actually part of the snezhnayan custom (let him indulge in those little cravings or else he’ll undoubtedly be petty).

DAINSLEIF — 戴因斯雷布

ʚ has a breakdown.

ʚ a little dramatic, but honestly if his entire life wasn’t a disgusting mess already, you’ve come to make it worse. fate is deliberately mean to brooding blondes it seems, given the fact he’s now stuck pacing around back and forth on a trail of dead abyss mages as he rereads a letter you’ve sent him weeks ago.

ʚ everything you give to him, everything you say, do, write, whatever, he remembers implicitly. each word you say is engraved into him as if they were important artefacts regardless of how pointless and mundane.

ʚ it can honestly get a little…scary at times? you’ll mention liking something once and all of a sudden you find it within your possession at least a few weeks later.

ʚ dainsleif doesn’t have enough time to wallow in the glory of mushy, all consuming love despite desperately wanting to imagine how your hand would feel caressing down past each of his scars, but what he can do is protect you, and to him that’s a greater blessing than intimacy he knows will end eventually.

ʚ a big tough man who would honestly fold the moment you call him any variation of a pet name, specifically with the word “mine/my” at the beginning — hey, it’s nice knowing you mean something to someone the point they view you as inseparable.

ʚ the timings at which he comes to aid you are all too convenient and believe me he’ll try his best to downplay it as coincidence, all the while he’s breathing heavily both from the face your eyes are scanning his so closely and the fact he used up so much energy to merely make a portal to sneak into your space.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[mirage-of-the-virtuoso]

In the spirit of SAB, here's how this year's festival went

Auri introduced Chrys and Arioch to it. Not really Auri's thing, but will run through it if people wanted company.

Arioch and Chrys made it a bit of a contest to see who would finish the zones the fastest. Chrysallus got sidetracked trying to find all the secrets and baubles.

Auri mentions that there is a challenge mode, called Tribulation Mode.

Chrys, at this point, is already proven to be the achievement hunter of the group for games like this. Arioch dares him to do it. Chrys only takes the challenge if it joins him at least for the first zone, with Auri joining only to see what kind of terror the zone is.

Both sylvari were blowing through their continue coins at a rapid pace. Both end up buying the Infinite Coin (thank you currency exchange for justifying how this is possible) and retrying the zone with fresh eyes.

The true contest now was seeing who could clear it first. Chrys clears it first, and it's another couple of hours before Arioch finishes it's run.

Chrys, now spurred by the desire to clear all of them, offers to do the second zone together. Arioch is horrified, calls him a masochist, and declines.

Chrys clears all of world 1 in about a day, having run through the levels for baubles and secrets for days now.

World 2 Tribulation Mode happens the next day. Aurienal and Arioch can tell that it's wearing him down now. Chrys got practice in for Rapids after yesterday's run, so he knew half the way for the level.

Pain Cliffs happens. He's in pain mainly because the owls keeping trying to rob him and pester him while he's trying to find his path, and the colors are so bright that it's searing his eyes. He, at some point, mentions "I found the segment in Pain Cliffs that embodies actual pain to get through".

He's having a blast /j

Pain Cliffs took him about 2-3 hours to clear.

The final zone, Storm Top. His only response when he finally cleared it: "I hate it here :)"

It took him 4.5-5 hours to clear, and his brain was mostly fried going into it immediately after Pain Cliffs. He threw himself off the ledge several times out of frustration trying to figure out where his path is, only to be right most of the times, but just too low to actually get to the point he needed to be at to progress. There was a lot of lives spent just resetting himself to where he needed to be.

Once he cleared it, Auri and Arioch greeted him in the hub, with his mender giving him a much needed hug, and Arioch asking "was it worth it?" The answer was very much "no".

But he could get more baubles for more shiny things later :) So he might do it again before the festival ends.

[watermelonsugacry]

harry's 30th birthday blurb with 1d!yn?! 👀

Birthday Surprises

SUMMARY: Harry celebrates his 19th and 30th birthday with the person he loves.

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn, married!ynrry

Since 2010 masterlist

Not to sound ungrateful, but Harry thinks that this was one of the worst birthday celebrations that he's ever had.

Tonight, he just wanted to spend his last year being a teenager having fun with friends—not be completely embarrassed and uncomfortable being strip teased and danced on by strippers. 

Not to mention that afterwards, One Direction’s management team had booked him to do a relationship stunt for the night. So as he walked out of the club and into his security team’s Range Rover, a tall, blonde model was by his side. As bad as it sounded, he couldn’t remember the girl’s name for the life of him. 

Nothing was going to happen with her anyways. All they had to do was a couple of paparazzi pictures of them together before they’re driven off into the night. The driver would discreetly drop her off at her own hotel before escorting Harry back to his. 

So there's not an ounce of uncertainty that when Harry comes out of the elevator, he's absolutely tired and wants nothing more than to be left alone.

He waves his card key in front of the lock and once he hears the little "beep" sound, he pushes the heavy door open.

His irritation and tiredness might have just peaked over its breaking point when he begins to hear rustling from inside. He’s already extremely worn out that he doesn’t even want to put in the effort into putting on a nice face to whoever’s inside his hotel room. But the smile that appears on his face is effortless when he sees YN flicking the wheel of the lighter over some birthday candles sticking out of a chocolate cake.

“Fucking fuck—oh, surprise!” She hops, extending her arms out beside her in what she hopes to look like a grand gesture.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re celebrating your birthday.” 

Anyone a mile away can tell how uncomfortable he was during the whole stripper fiasco. It sucked to have to stand off to the side, a faux smile on her face to see her bandmate in that type of situation. As much as she wanted to stay with him for the other “fun” festivities the night had to offer, she knew that she couldn’t let his birthday end the way it was heading. So she took the chance to leave the club a bit early and hoped that he would be up for one more celebratory, late night hang out.  

“But, but it’s already past midnight,” He blinks, still a little dumbfounded at the kind surprise before him.

"Oh come on, we only have—err—three, ah! Two more minutes until your birthday is officially over." YN pulls Harry over to the small dining table and sits him down in front of his freshly lit cake. It's then that he notices the shaky lettering on the cake that reads, “Happy Birthday Harry!” Letting him know that she went more out of her way for him than she initially let on. 

She comically clears her throat before beautifully yet quickly singing the infamous Happy Birthday song. The song isn't being yelled at to him by a big group of people, and the room isn't jam-packed with people he doesn't know. When he leans over to blow out his candles, he isn't fearful of hands going to the back of his head to stuff his face into the cake.

He doesn’t think twice about wrapping her up in his arms. He squeezes the tops of her shoulders tightly and she nestles into his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, “Thank you.”

The sentiment doesn't, can't go by unnoticed, but it doesn't seem totally out of the norm. This is Harry. A sweet and affectionate person whose love language is undoubtedly physical touch. If anything, it'd be YN feeling the one out of place in this situation. And maybe it was a change of heart towards her anti-touchy feelings or maybe it was because of his birthday. Either way, he's grateful for the way she's letting him hold her. If it were anyone else, she definitely wouldn't wrap her arms around his torso, humming at the warmth he brings.

"Well the night doesn’t have end here,” YN blinks up at him. As if they both realize their close proximity, they slowly pull away to give each other some space. “If you're still up for it and not too tuckered out, I rented that one stupid rom com you like. The one with the guy standing outside with the signs."

"Love Actually? I thought you didn't like that movie."

"Well to be fair, I actually have never seen it. But it’s your birthday and this is sort of part of my gift to you. You know, if you even wanna see it. If not, I can just fuck off and you can sleep because I know you probably had a pretty eventful day—”

She’s rambling. YN’s rambling—a quality she was never prone to particularly show, but it’s cute. He thinks she’s cute. 

“YN,” He chuckles, effectively cutting her off. “I’m down to watch it.”

“Really? Okay, cool. Because I already have the film on queue in the room so that would have been real fooking embarrassing.” Annnd she’s back.

He watches with curious eyes as she carefully slides the heavy cake plate onto her hands. 

She throws a nod towards the kitchenette, “Mind grabbing the forks.”

As much as Harry tries to resist it, he can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. He quickly grabs the two utensils before following behind her to the open bedroom. YN quite literally steps onto the foot of the bed before carefully sitting down, balancing the cake in her hands.

He sits down next to her, handing her the fork just as she begins the movie. They both dig their forks into the middle of the cake, taking out a chunk.

“Happy birthday, Harry,” She says, clicking the ends of their forks together. She happily hums at the delicious dessert but it quickly turns into a groan at the opening aong of the movie. “Ah not this stupid song again. I felt like this was all i was hearing just the other month.”

He’d be lying if he said he was watching more of the movie than her. His cheeks hurt from chuckling at her witty commentary and he tries not to make a big deal about the way she actually started to get into the film. So as he eats cake and spends the rest of the night with his best friend, he thinks that this might be the best birthday he’s had in a long time.

• 11 years later ●

YN stumbles through the front door as Harry cradles her in his arms, his mouth feverishly pressed to hers. They smile through their kisses, and he hums as she runs her finger through his growing curls. Harry kicks the door of their shared home behind him and blindly tosses the keys haphazardly in the general direction of the bowl by the door.

“Okay, okay,” YN pushes against his shoulders, finally getting a breath in, the pair still walking further into their home without separating. “So I know you said you didn't want any more presents—”

“Baby,” the grown man playfully whines. “You've already given me everything.” In all sincerity, she really has in his eyes. He’s been in love with the woman before him since they were sixteen. He wanted to be with her since their time in the band, through the making of their solo albums and everything in between. Even though it’s been a little over a year now, it still brings an explainable peace and warmth to his heart that she’s now his wife; not his friend with benefits, secret lovers, or merely a couple, but married.

And today couldn't have gone better. YN had the whole day planned. They started the day with lazy morning sex that turned into breakfast in bed. They spent the afternoon down by a secluded beach, having an impromptu dip in the water just before eating the lunch she packed for them. Then, after a plane ride to their private villa in Italy, they've just got back from having a beautiful dinner at his favorite restaurant.

“There's nothing more I could possibly want. Ooo, unless you're hiding some sexy lingerie under this fine ass dress you got here.” He says into her the crook of her neck, already sponging kisses onto her skin.

YN lets out a laugh, especially as his fingers begin to bunch up her silk dress. “No! Well, not no but—”

“So you do,” Harry says with excitement, the creases in his eyes appear when he hears her laughter. 

“Just hang on a sec. Your present is upstairs.”

“So I get to unwrap my last birthday present in the bedroom,” He teases her further. Her husband relishes in the way she lets out a girly squeal when he dips down and effortlessly lifts her over his shoulder to bring them into the master bedroom. 

 “Wait, wait,” She pushes as Harry plops them down on the bed, already trapping her underneath him. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a sec.”

Once she's managed to wiggle herself free (with great effort, no thanks to Harry) she scurries off to the connected bathroom.

He sits himself down on the bed, undoing the cuffs of his button up before rolling up his sleeves, preparing himself to see if wife in lacy undergarments that are only begging to be taken off by his teeth. Or torn off. Either one would work.

“H, close your eyes.” YN says from behind the door. “I mean it, no peeking.”

“Alright, alright.” He complies, already feeling a childlike sense of giddy anticipation. 

“Are they closed?”

“Yeah.”

“...are you sure?”

“Yes! For fuck sake’s woman. Being so mean on my birthday,” he laughs.

He feels the bed dip next to him before a kiss is pressed to his lips. Before he can bring his hands to her jaw to deepen the sweet kiss, he feels something being placed in his hands.

“Okay, open them,” she says against his lips.

He pulls back and sees a red box tied with a bow on top. 

“Lovie, you really shouldn't have.”

“Last one, I promise.”

Just to tease her, he brings the small box next to his head and shakes it slightly to hear the contents rattle inside.

YN makes a strategic move by placing one of her hands behind him so her thumb can twist at her rings, knowing that that's her dead giveaway for her nerves.

When he opens the lid, it's only then his face gets serious—lips slightly parted with soft eyes. On top of the pile of confetti lies a pregnancy test. The small, red plus line stares back at him clear as day.

“YN?” When he looks to his love, she begins to hold back her tears at the sight of his watery eyes and pink nose. “Is—wha—are you sure?”

“I took like five of them just to be sure,” she lets out a chuckle.

“We’re having a baby?” Words can't describe the warmth and happiness that fills her chest at his excitement. It's not like they haven't mentioned having kids before. It's been brought up a couple of times, most recently these past two years, but the timing was never right. They were always working; whether it be on making an album, working on themselves, and for the longest time, tour was their babies. But now that their 2 year world tours have ended and they've finally had time to go MIA for a couple of months, it didn't feel like a better time.

The couple wasn't setting up a schedule or anything technical to have a baby. Especially since going on their second honeymoon had been occupying their schedule right after touring was done, they decided that baby making would happen naturally. Whenever their baby decided to enter their lives, that would be the perfect time.

YN nods and before she can say the words to verbally confirm, he has her wrapped in his arms. Harry lifts her off the bed and gives her a little twirl.

As quickly as he picked her up, he's on his knees before her and puts a gentle hand on her tummy.

“Hi, bubba,” he says softly. YN beams at the sight, already wiping at the happy tears running down her cheeks. “I'm your daddy, and I love you so so much.”

After placing a gentle kiss on her stomach, he finally takes his wife's face in his hands and kisses her. It isn't rushed or filled with a sexual need. It's soft and filled with so much love and passion.

“We're gonna be parents, baby. You’re gonna make the best momma," he says sincerely, getting more emotional at the thought of holding a mini YN or a mini him in his arms in less than a year from now.

"And you're gonna make the best dad," she hums. He wraps his arms around the tops of her shoulders, pulling her close to him as she cuddles into him. He presses a kiss to her forehead and sniffs back his tears.

"I love you so much."

“i love you, baby. Happy birthday, Harry.”

.

.

taglist:

@ashtongivesmebutterflies @cacapeepee @thurhomish @armystay89

(Let me know if you wanna be added 💚)

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

The Nightmare Before Christmas Lost in The Book: Over The Spiral Hill

{1} {2}

-

“ “Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move;Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.” “ You quote as Jack sang opera to your group, the earlier events of discussing music and dances for the festivities. 

Riddle comments at the words, “I never thought’d you’d be imitating Rook on this… Event.” The dorm head mumbles. You grin at the red-head. “He wishes, the song reminded me of a playwright in our world.” You gesture to Yuu. 

“ “Just because I can’t see it, doesn’t mean I don’t believe it.” “ You say the phrase easily, recalling it for this occasion. “That wasn’t from the playwright though… Still a good quote though, you think?” You ask your group, turning away from them. 

…

You felt your face become warm at the line, embarrassed.

-

“Yuu! Grim, Skully!” You happily show off the different details your outfit held. Reminding you of home, hints of Ramshackle hinted in a few stitches.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t realize your’s was a bit stranger than ours.” Grim says, circling around you curiously. 

“It looks good!” Yuu replied, keeping close to you, you laugh.

“It’s very beautiful!” Skully compliments as you blink. An idea forming into your head..

“Hmm, Yuu, I wanted to ask. Do you remember any holidays from ‘Home’?” You ask carefully, knowing the answer. You pick up Grim, watching the other human ponder.

Yuu eyes you back, eyes glazed over thoughtfully. “No, not as much as you.”

“Oh? What do you mean?” Skully joins in, listening attentively.

“They’re not from Twisted Wonderland!” Grim pipes up. “Grim, shush!” Yuu scolds, while you hand the fur-ball to them. Skully’s lips part slightly, shocked a bit.

“T-Then.. Where is it are you two from?”

Yuu shrugs, clearly not as comfortable as you were about ‘Home’.

“Uh- Let’s say, very far.”

“Worlds away-” Grim is interrupted by Yuu shoving their face his fluffy neck. “OI! Yuu! Quit it!” Grim swats at their hair as you take Skully’s attention away. Linking hands with his as the four of you walk.

“I wanted to say before, that our holidays are sorta the same and different. A few don’t even exist here.”

“Don’t bring up Chr- ACK! AGAIN?! Stop!” Grim whines at Yuu’s affectionate gesture.

“What is “Chr”?” 

“Oh- That’s a holiday from where from and it’s called-”

You pause. “Let’s say, it’s kinda like… “The opposite”, or more of.. Colorful, cold. Instead of pumpkins and autumn leaves. We have snow, depending on the region, along with carols instead of spooky-sweet melodies!” You wink.

“Instead of a “Pumpkin King” we have this guy called S-.”

Interrupted once more by Grim’s whines, you roll your eyes playfully. “There’s another one too, where we celebrate those who are…” You summarize the best you can. Smiling sadly, “it’s paying tribute to those we miss. To keep them remembered.”

You go on to another holiday, something along the lines of a rabbit and marshmallow birds…

Skully remains quiet, intaking all the knowledge you gave to him. The memories held within your mind, wishing to be shared. Just as precious as Halloween was to him.

Resolved settled within him as they walked further down the path to Jack’s house.

-

After the fiasco with Skully and the Oogie-Boogie squad, Jack had awoken from his slumber while Skully apologized. 

Halloween was back on!

Music played all around town, joining in on the merriment without a care.

Dancing with everyone, you twirl around with different dance partners. Grim, the fluffy beast, tried his best with taking lead with the waltz.

Settling down, you find one of the stray flowers beside you. Plucking it without much thought, pinching at the petals as you stop at a familiar voice.

Tossing the flower away, you readily take Skully’s hand. 

-

Flowers in hand, you walk back to Ramshackle. The graves greeting you as the wind slowly becomes small wisps. A book held tightly in hand, purchased immediately before everyone left Foothill Town. A melody humming on your lips, adorn in a familiar costume you commissioned Vil and Crewel for earlier. Vil even looked… Pleased at the flimsy sketch, seeing the vision easily. As it reminded him of something lost to him. Yuu and Grim follow a few steps away.

Grim held a can of tuna while Yuu carried a  small basket of candies. 

Ramshackle, alight with decorations of purple and green tinsel, along with Diasomnia’s own decor. 

Kneeling by a few unnamed graves, the three of you place the items down. Heading back inside for the rest of the Halloween party.

The ghosts greet you three excitedly, as your guests a few doormates chatter and relax. 

Letting your frown fade, you smile, hands craving over the edges of the portrait that laid above the unlit fireplace. The mantle covered in small decorations of colored skulls, candles and candies. The familiar pumpkin-colored eyes roaming down from above you and your guests.

-

[YALL IM SO PISSED THAT SKULL IS WRITTEN OFF! Im HOPPING TWST decides to put him in the game and give him a card.I’LL SAVE UP FOR IT! HANDS DOWN. I’ll probably be trying to cope a bit with small one-shot drabbles based around him. YALL I CANT!!! If anyone got my references at all let me know, Im so… AUGHHHHHHH! Anyway, thanks for reading!]

[shootingstarwritings]

FEStival Fiasco

Part 6

Phecda’s little safe house was near the outskirts of the exam site. A simple apartment building with walls neatly decorated as though a prince lived in them.

‘Maybe that’s why he picked that host,’ thought Centaurus as he made his way down the halls and towards the lobby. Everything was far too pristine, far too unnaturally beautiful. It wasn’t unlike the buildings back at Terras, home world. This place was probably familiar for an Elite like him.

Elite…

“Worms don’t make for such fine test subjects,” Phecda had said. The words still bothered Centaurus. What had he been trying to imply? And did Centaurus want to know? Just the idea of being considered a ‘test subject’ annoying him to no end.

“Is he saying I’m not a worm…?” Centaurus muttered out loud. A few passing residents spared him a glance, the curiosity clear in their expressions. However, Centaurus didn’t pay them much mind. He only wanted to see if their body language betrayed any intent to fight.

Was Phecda suggesting that Centaurus was somehow better than his peers?

“Sunuvabitch,” he muttered as he walked past the automatic doors. Golden flowers and vines made of fine metals decorating the glass. The sheer lavishness of it all made him ill. He was glad to be leaving the building. Taking his first step forward, his gaze instantly shifted to the professor leaning up against the wall just a few feet away from the entrance.

Professor Polaris’ eyes didn’t widen when they wandered over to Centaurus. His pose, lax shoulders and a hunched back, remained static as he spoke up. “Ah! Quite fortunate, seeing you here,” he said, lazily raising his arm in a small greeting. Despite his attempts to seem casual, he had been expecting Centaurus. Polaris should’ve been at least a bit surprised or had some sort of reaction to seeing him.

‘What is he playing at?’ thought Centaurus. ‘He was waiting for me.’

Even after several hours, Polaris retained the same host. For whatever reason, whenever he found a body he didn’t seem to enjoy discarding it until the mission was over. Centaurus had once overheard a student from another class refer to Polaris as ‘overly sentimental.’

“How have you been, Centaurus?” said Polaris as he approached. “I trust your tasks have been finished?”

“Professor,” said Centaurus with a curt nod. “Is there something you need?” Answering his question, for whatever reason, didn’t feel right at the moment. It’d be better to just remain discreet. Centaurus also noticed that Polaris’ stance was unusually lax. His knees were straight, his hands were in his pockets, and his feet weren’t far apart. Weren’t soldiers, especially those with stories histories like Polaris, supposed to be more serious? Despite how little humans knew of their existence, the planet was still enemy territory.

“No, not quite what I need. But I do wish to inform of some of your classmates’ conditions. Particularly that of Alcor.” Centaurus’ eyes widened, and he cursed his sudden reaction.

“What does Alcor have to do with me?” he said, attempting to remain casual.

Polaris shrugged. “From what I can tell, nothing. But that reaction is certainly interesting. Usually you just shrug and dismiss me whenever I discuss your classmates with you.”

“Well, what’s the news on Alcor?”

“He’s gone,” said Polaris, eyes brimming with… pride? Amusement? Centaurus couldn’t tell. “Left the testing grounds, and it doesn’t appear he’s returning. For all intents and purposes, he has gone AWOL.”

“Oh, I’m surprised,” said Centaurus with a shrug. He had managed to regain his composure. Just a few more exchanges and he’d walk away and be home free. “For all his talk, I wouldn’t have guess he’d just up and vanish. Guess he was all bark and no bite.” He said, forcing a snicker.

“Aww… is that any way to talk about your new friend?” Despite his teasing words, Polaris’ eyes almost looked sympathetic. Centaurus didn’t respond. He dropped his arms to the sides and glared at his professor. “You know, Centaurus… to live freely is to give other freedom. To gift him that chance to escape, that opportunity to shape his own life and future, is something beautiful. Did it feel rewarding?”

“...Why aren’t you reprimanding me?” asked Centaurus, narrowing his eyes. “You almost sound proud of me. Why? Shouldn’t I be…I don’t know, expelled? Punished? Even just scolded?”

Polaris didn’t stop smiling. Instead, he turned around and gestured for Centaurus to follow. “Walk with me. We should talk privately.” Before Centaurus could respond, Polaris had already begun walking off. They were headed towards a more populated part of the fair. Not far from them was a closed, unattended booth. That was most likely his destination.

“H-Hey, wait damn it!” Centaurus ran to catch up with Polaris’ stride. The professor’s host had longer legs, and he almost seemed determined to leave him behind. “Asshole…” Centaurus muttered once he finally caught up. “… it was bittersweet.”

“Hmm?”

“You asked me how it felt—with Alcor. It felt, still feels, bittersweet.” It had been a brief connection, but it was one of the few that Centaurus had ever made. To watch it go and ride off towards a land promising freedom tore at his heart. It was difficult not being envious. “He’s fine, he’ll be happy, out there. But, I’m still here. Still the same.” He looked up at the sky. The sun was beginning to descend, dyeing the world a vivid orange. Everyday, the sky changed hues.

“I try to change,” continued Centaurus, looking down at his rough, scarred hands. It was unfamiliar to him, and yet he still remained the same worm he always was. The faces he wore and the memories he ingested were all different, yet the scars he bore and the faint hope he clung onto remained the same.

Static. Stagnant.

“I wish I could’ve gone with him. I wish I could’ve escaped and shaped my own future with my own hands. But I was scared.” His voice cracked as he spoke. His host’s heart was racing, each thump an agonizing reminder of his own life. Why had he survived while other worms didn’t? Why did he continue to live? “I always thought becoming a Dreadfighter, becoming someone, would bring me happiness and freedom. And maybe it will. But I still wonder why I didn’t just run away with my friend. Why just being someone to Alcor wasn’t enough to let me run alongside him.” He looked up at Polaris. “Professor, did I make the right choice? Or am I just weak?”

“I can’t say,” he said. “No one can know what choice is the right one. We simply choose and allow the consequences to play out. If we don’t like them, we just deal with outcome and make another choice later down the line. That’s what life is, Centaurus. That’s the beauty and terror of freedom.” Polaris raised his arm and stopped Centaurus in his tracks. “And you made your decision. You chose to help Alcor find freedom, Centaurus. Extending a hand out in kindness, even after facing so much abuse from others, from your own kind, takes a type of strength I deeply envy.”

Stepping forward to stand in front of Centaurus’ host, Polaris placed a hand on Centaurus’ borrowed chest and squeezed. “Your heart is scarred, and it remains strong. It’s so easy to hurt someone else because you’ve been hurt. But you chose differently, Centaurus. As your teacher, I am so very proud of the choice you made.”

“Professor, I…”

Before either of them could continue, “A-HEM,” a loud and deliberate cough cut them off. They both turned to face a round-faced women with a babbling infant in her hands. “Pride is important and all, but please don’t grope each other where kids can see you.” Polaris withdrew his hands, muttering a sheepish apology as his ears turned red. “Thank you.” With a huff, the woman walked off.

The two stood there in silence before Polaris let out a snicker. “Snrk…! Heheh…! Here I was trying to be all emotional that I forgot humans don’t share such intimacy with each other.” It wasn’t long before he was full-on laughing, shoulders bouncing up and down as that little embarrassed joy filled the air.

Centaurus joined in for a second with a few light-hearted chuckles, but remained paranoid the whole time. “Professor, what’s the real reason you wanted to speak to me?”

“Ah, yes, yes!” nodded Polaris. “Come. We should talk privately.” He walked over to the booth’s closed curtains and gestured for Centaurus to walk in. He didn’t. After a few moments of waiting, he nodded and said, “Smart. Don’t show your back to someone if you’re not 100% certain you can trust them.”

“It’s just common sense.”

“Not to those who can afford it. Those we call ‘Elites.’ I do apologize that to you it is common sense, Centaurus. Or for anyone, in that war-fueled society of ours.” Polaris stepped into the darkened booth first, and Centaurus cautiously followed.

“There’s a lot that needs to be said,” said Polaris, his voice dropping low and losing any of the levity it previously had. “And some that can only be shown to be believed. But I suppose there’s no easy way to ease someone into this next bit of news.

“Centaurus, our society relies on the weak thrown and killed on the front lines or dying in the mines for resources to fuel our machines and weapons to fight. Or even as slaves, not servants, to Elites who see them as lesser.” With each word he uttered, his voice became softer and somber. The look in his eyes, a bit harder to tell in the dark booth, grew dull and damp. It was as if speaking about this was sucking the life out of him.

“War and hierarchy are intrinsic parts of our society,” he continued. “And this decades-long war, having started long before I was even born, allowed for technological prosperity, but social stagnation. It makes sense, doesn’t it? We can’t move forward without risking stability, and no one wants that in the middle of wartime.

“But, Centaurus… you, me, and all who have died and lived in the 20 years have been living a lie. The war has been over. Our Emperor has made fools of us all.”

[madebycloud]

Melting

wednesday addams x fem!reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: you went trick or treating with your girlfriend. warnings/themes: fluff, soft!wednesday (ooc eheh), halloween, trick-or-treating, making out words: 1.8k

'Tis the witching season! 

The whole neighborhood is in a festive mood, with ghouls and ghosts lurking around, kids dressed up as their favorite or the scariest characters. 

Now, there's someone who couldn't care less about all the hoopla. 

You know Wednesday doesn't like to be all sunshine and rainbows, but secretly, you've always wished she would let her guard down and have some fun. 

“It's overrated,” she scoffs. But if there's one thing that can sway her, it's you. 

The nostalgia. You missed those carefree days when your only worry was scoring as much candy as possible in one night. And now you have the perfect opportunity to go back to your child self and relive those memories. 

“Pleeeeeeaaaaase Wednesday,” you whine, dropping to your knees and clasping your hands in front of her. 

She doesn't bat an eye. She just continues to write, her fingers moving across the typewriter. 

“Please baby, please love, please,” you try again, pulling out all the stops—cute silly nicknames, puppy dog eyes that you know she secretly adores. “It'll be super fun.” 

Finally, she stops writing. She lifts her head and turns to face you. She pauses for a long moment, considering your plea. “Fine. But only on one condition,” she starts. “I know it's important to you—so I'll indulge your request. This is just a one-time thing. We won't be making this a habit.” 

“Just... once?” 

“Just once,” she repeats. 

You think for a moment. “...okay.” You nod. “But I'll choose the costume.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Fine, no funny business. Let's make this quick and clean, understood?” 

“Understood.” You grinned.

—

“Hey there, Mario!” you exclaim with an exaggerated Italian accent while waving your hands around, trying to mimic how he does it. “It's-a-me, Luigi, your lovable sidekick!” 

“It's-a-me, Luigi? I don't know which I hate more—my ridiculous costume or your ridiculous sense of humor.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at the garish plumber's costume she was forced to wear. She even had to wear a fake mustache. “I can't believe I let you convince me to wear this ridiculous costume.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the daggers she was sending your way. “Don't worry, no one will recognize you as Wednesday with this get-up.” You winked, but she was having none of it. “Besides, this is just a 'one-time' thing, right?”

She groaned inwardly. “Just make sure you carry this, you have a stronger arm.” With a huff, she hands you the pumpkin. “After all, you're the one who suggested this fiasco, so the least you could do is carry the stupid thing.”

Her hand snaked around your wrist, her grip was so tight you could feel it even through your gloves. 

You both made your way to Jericho, the streets were alive with kids in crazy costumes running around, laughing and shouting as they made their way to different houses. The streets are lined with jack-o'-lanterns and spider webs. 

Suddenly, you spot a house that looks amazing. There are a few children waiting outside, excitedly chattering as they anticipate a chance to fill their buckets with candy.

“Let's try that one,” you say, pointing to the house. “They look like they're giving out some good treats.”

Wednesday just nods and crosses her arms, not seeming interested in going with you to get candies. “I'll just stay here,” she insists.

“Are you sure?” you ask, pausing to look at her for a moment.

She simply nods, waiting for you to get your candies. You give her a quick smile and head towards the house. 

You ring the doorbell and wait for someone to answer. A woman with a warm smile opens the door.

“Trick or treat!” you say, holding your pumpkin out.

However, the woman looks at you with disdain. “Aren't you a little too old for this?”

The smile slips from your face as you realize what she means. But before you can say anything else, she closes the door in your face. You stand there, stunned, staring at the closed door. 

That was rude.

You returned to Wednesday, your shoulders slumping as you held up your empty pumpkin.

She looks at you with an eyebrow raised, as if to ask what happened.

You scratch the back of your neck and frown. She could almost see the smoke coming out of your ears. “She... she said I was too old for this.”

You can tell she's angry at the way you were treated, and you secretly hope she doesn't plan on getting back at the woman for her rudeness. She can't believe the audacity of that woman, as if there's an age limit for having fun.

Still, you don't let the incident put a damper on the rest of your night.

“It's fine, there's still a lot of houses we can try again,” you say, grabbing her arms and looking around for another house to approach.

But people keep telling you that you're too old for Halloween and refuse to give you candy.

Wednesday senses your disappointment and starts coming up with elaborate plans to avenge the people who have denied you treats. She seems determined to make them pay for their deeds, yet you keep trying to convince her to just move on and keep searching for sweets.

Just as you were about to give up, you came across a house with the porch light off, but you could hear giggling coming from inside. 

This time, Wednesday joins you in trick-or-treating.

Together, you knock on the door and a person in a ghost costume stands in the doorway, holding a bowl of candy. 

“Trick or treat,” you say, holding out your pumpkin for a sweet.

Wednesday's stare serves as a warning to the person not to disappoint you or suffer the consequences.

The man hesitates before finally grabbing a handful of candy from the bowl and thrusting it into your pumpkin, his hands shaking with fear.

You thank them, and Wednesday gives you a smile as you walk away. “See? Things aren't so bad after all.”

Wednesday rolls her eyes. “Let's just keep going,” she says, before pushing you forward towards the next house.

—

You were walking back from trick-or-treating, your pumpkin filled to the brim with sweets and goodies. 

“Let's go back,” Wednesday mumbled as she walked alongside you, still holding onto your hand. Her hand slipped into your biceps, yet she hardly even noticed.

You nod, prepared to return home. However, before you can leave, you hear a voice from behind you. 

“Wednesday Addams?!” the boy says in shock, recognizing her beneath the Mario costume. 

“Oh, for Christ's sake,” Wednesday muttered under her breath. She couldn't believe someone had recognized her in her stupid, ridiculous Mario costume. She could swear in her life that she's never felt so stupid.

You turned to see a boy dressed in a brightly colored insect costume, his antennae bobbing as he waved at both of you. “Hey Eugene!” 

Wednesday narrows her eyes. “What are you doing here, Eugene?”

“I came to get some candy!” He replied eagerly, his eyes sparkling, but then his eyes widened. “Wait... is that really you... Wednesday?” he asks, taking a step forward. 

Wednesday clenches her jaw and you stifle a laugh, amused by her reaction. You offer Eugene some candy from your pumpkin, and he excitedly accepts it, thanking you.

“Eugene, can you take a picture of us?” you request, handing him your phone. 

Wednesday snapped her head in your direction, her eyebrows furrowed as she glared at you. She's just about lost it. She swore in her mind that she would never take a picture wearing this ridiculous costume.

You flung your arm around her and gave a peace sign as Eugene held up your phone. You chuckle and give Wednesday's waist a reassuring squeeze.

“Three, two...”

Wednesday knows she will be miserable. But she looked at your smile and realized that, despite her aversion to the costume, she didn't want to ruin your fun. So she reluctantly struck a peace sign, hoping that no one would recognize her under that ridiculous mustache.

“One!” the flash flickers, and the photo is captured. 

She couldn't deny the warmth in her chest as she watched the picture saved to your phone.

—

You realized that your feet were starting to feel tired after walking so much. Eager to rest your tired legs, the two of you made your way over to a nearby bench, tucked away amidst the shadows of the trees. 

Wednesday is now holding the pumpkin-shaped basket full of sweets while you gaze up at the stars in the sky. She eventually pulled out one of the candies and popped it into her mouth.

“Taste good?” You turn to look at her. 

“Tastes like poison,” she teases before popping it into her mouth.

You can't help but stare at her lips. Why did her lips look like they were begging to be kissed?

“Do you want one?” Wednesday asks, seemingly reading your thoughts. 

You were almost too stunned to speak, but a soft “yes” managed to escape your lips. 

Small smile formed on her lips, as though she knew exactly what she was doing. She offered the candy before you swallowed it whole, savoring the sweetness on your tongue. 

A glance at her lips and then back at her eyes told her everything she needed to know.

Before you knew it, Wednesday had leaned in to share the sweet with you, her lips soft and supple on yours, the taste of candy still lingering on your tongue.

When you finally pulled away, you were left weak in the knees and breathless.

Wednesday's lips part slightly, her breath brushing against your cheek. You lean in again, but she stops you with a gentle hand on your chest.

“One condition,” she whispers.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

“I get to choose the costume next year.”

“We're going to trick or treat again next year?” you ask, grinning. “Fine,” you concede, “your choice of costume next year then.”

With Wednesday's permission granted, you lean in for another kiss, this time lingering even longer than before. Your lips lock together in a sensual dance. 

But you pull away, teasing her. “Wait.”

“What now?”

“Well, I was thinking we could dress up as Remy and his human companion, Alfredo from Ratatouille.”

Wednesday's eyes narrow, clearly annoyed at your choice.

“Okay, I admit, that was a terrible idea, but what about SpongeBob and Patrick? or I can go as Squidward, and we can be rivals instead,” you suggest, desperate to find a costume she'll actually like.

She rolls her eyes, but you could already see the corner of her lips twitching up into a small smile. “You did not just suggest that.”

“Oh yes I did.”

“I'm not dressing up as a rat with a chef's hat next year, that's for sure. And you're not going to make me dress up as a sponge either.”

You smirk. “Maybe not, but I'll still find a way to make you dress up as something ridi—”

Before you finish your sentence, Wednesday's lips are on yours once more, drowning out your words. Her fingers glide down your jaw as she draws you in closer.

“That's it,” she whispers between kisses. “You're stuck with me now.”

And you wouldn't want it any other way.

note: me

[g1rlken]

┏ 𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 ┐

1. Part, Alex turner x actress!reader

summary: ugly break up and working together

warnings: smear campaigns, Twitter incels, award season, depression

word count: 4.8k+

-

Relationships become a hurdle of choreographing well being when you’re going through a difficult period in life. The one person that’s supposed to be wholly yours becomes another face to mask with. Empathy feels good for a week, two weeks, a month. As the days would stack up it would just feel like a customised emotion, a weight. That’s how y/n felt, her relationship with Alex had seen a lot of ups and downs over their year and a half together. A lot of fights, long distances, miscommunications but it never weighed them down nor their relationship. They always came back stronger after a set back as such. However such shaky career hurdles were only ever seen by Alex, writer’s block, studio pressure, album press, billboard charts, the critics it was a coin toss on fate and he’d often land on the difficult side. But he had a lot of years in the industry and a well composed mind to these things.

Maybe her issues were difficult, Hollywood is eitherways a harsher ground for women. Especially the acting industry, she was facing method acting allegations by one of her elderly costars of old fashion. Not that method acting was concept of bad light in modern day cinema but the characters of the show were very demanding maybe some bitterness towards y/n however she never paid any mind to those when it started. Even her costars all took it lightly, the method acting questions started coming up in almost all promotions, either that or her relationship. She handled that with grace too, all until the emmys. The Emmys where she won one, a shining star in the tapestry of her young career. Amidst her speech a stand up show host had a set organised. Seemingly she wasn’t priorly informed about it being found dumbfounded on stage. In front of everyone, the same joke of being an alleged method actor made an imprint on her first ever Emmy. Everyone present just laughed like they would through a normal set, they laughed at her, she felt like the world ended. After that function she felt increasingly uncomfortable with herself, a laughingstock. Twitter was divided like it always is, she would just focus on those who added to the joke. Witty jabs. Variety articles behind y/l/n’s Emmy fiasco.

Alex tried. Alex tried really hard, he forced screens away from her. WiFi in their house only for certain hours and he’d supervise it, weekend getaways for her almost every weekend. She just seemed to not escape it, losing her appetite even. Alex was the cook between the two of them, meals would take hours and hours for her to get it down and he would sit with her without a complaint. He loved her truly unconditionally and he was aware it was genuinely hard for her. Such smear campaign was very hard to escape. When she started having sleep issues as well he forcibly suggested therapy. Y/n truly believed she wasn’t meant for therapy, she wasn’t ’therapy audience’ and he consoled her very hard into joining it. Eventually she did and it just added to the shitshow. Apparently the therapist found her difficult to work through, it lasted barely 2 weeks and the therapist referred her to someone else. It became public and her therapist’s statement was “The most difficult patient in all of my career.” Maybe it was the amateur hour for the therapist or maybe it wasn’t meant in a better light but social media smear campaign treated it like a festival.

As weeks progressed everything else seemed increasingly difficult. Especially Alex. Seeing his life, his new normal which would start and end with her well being and nothing would change with her mental state either. Alex was giving out so much of himself yet she couldn’t find it in herself to actually smile even. That guilt was worse than everything else. She let that guilt consume her for a while until she finally decided to do something about it.

That evening, after dinner she finally put a stone on her heart and decided to lay that conversation to him. Guiding him to sit across her on the sofa of their shared place she took his hands into hers “Alex, no one else has stood by me the way you have, these two whole months. It’s the worst thing that’s happened to me perhaps ever and you’ve been with me through it. Just how the cliches say it-like my rock.” She said patiently “I feel like I’m not making any progress but if it weren’t for you I would’ve been at a worse place and” she took in a shaky breath before continuing a long pause following something Alex had no idea of.

“Just how you’ve been around for me.” He said holding her hands in his right her “And what we are isn’t for cliches or for saying y/n, I love you and despite of you being at your lowest as long as I have you, I have all I need. We’ve had rough patches before we’ve been alright and we will be even-“

“Just…just let me finish yeah?” Y/n interrupted him looking down their hands because looking into his eyes which carried soft love was so much harder. “You’re giving away too much of yourself. You don’t see it but I do, you’ve made my well being some sort of a passion project of yours and I understand you want the best for me I really do. But I have to look out for you too, and, I feel like this isn’t fair to you. We’re not working out…we won’t.”

A very long silence followed as Alex stared at her comprehending that, “what?” he huffed in denial “what do you mean?” He asked as if it would change what she meant.

“Alex…” she brought his hands closer to her “you need to do better in life, better than this. You have so much potential to give out, into yourself, into your career and you’ve spent so much on me already. I can’t keep you for me like this…we should…part.”

“I am passionate about you what do you mean passion project? I am in love with you and I want to help you. Just how you’d help me don’t you see it? So you don't get to decide that for me and my potential. It’s mine.” Alex stated firmly.

“Exactly. It’s yours! You’re pouring it all out into me—you’re draining yourself-“

“None of that is for you to decide!” Alex stopped her sentence midway leaving her hands out of his to run his hands through his hair out of frustration.

“Fine…” y/n seemed bad with confrontation and she didn’t want to paint herself out to be a bad lover in his history books years from now but she didn’t know how else to not do that. He was hurting unknowingly. “But this is for me to decide and I have. W-we need to..” she couldn’t even find it in herself to finish that sentence. “Break up.”

“No.” Alex stated so casually like she just asked her a very simple question, as if it was a question. “No we do not. We don’t need to do any such thing.”

“Alex…” she sighed looking away, his denial was breaking her heart. Tears formulated her eyes as she thought about how much this will hurt him.

“What Alex? No: I’m refusing.” He shrugged, very nonchalantly shrugging. Declining her wish as he didn’t even look at her.

“Alex please” she said as she gently cupped his face to look at her, “you don’t realise this…you have been putting yourself through so much for me. This-this is difficult I know, but you’ll be better after this.”

“Y/n, listen to me” he shifted in his seat to face her. “You don’t get to decide this for me. You are going through a tough time and I will not leave you.”

“You haven’t written a piece in two months..you don’t even go to the studio. You barely leave me alone to work with anything else!” She pointed out, all these bits of his habits were vanishing out and she had noticed it all. Being an early riser he’d go for a run around the block but nowadays he’d just time how many hours she had slept because of her issues. Time her vitamins and supplements. Plan things with her and only her as if he wasn’t supposed to have a life of his own.

“I have a writer’s block!” He exclaimed growing increasingly hurt and frustrated that this is how she viewed him helping her. She sounded like a burden to herself but he had never considered one to himself and he hated that she felt that way.

“Because you’re so occupied with me!” She exclaimed back with a sigh rubbing her eyes and looked away, uncrossing her legs on the couch.

“That’s just your assumption y/n you don’t know how my process works and you shouldn’t come to conclusions about things you don’t know.” Alex tried to reason with her even if she was right he couldn’t care less. She was important to him and she needed his full attention.

“Could you please just listen to me Alex…I don’t want to stay within this-“ y/n replied trying to find the right words.

“With me. You don’t want to stay with me.” He rephrased her sentence giving it to her as raw as he fathomed.

“Yes.” Taking in a deep breath she finally let it out because he wasn’t listening to her without brutal honesty. “Yes I don’t.”

“That just isn’t true-that’s not right you’re too tired today that’s all.” Alex replied, he wanted to point it maybe she was also hungry but he kept that for more persuasion.

“Alex, please.” Y/n breathed taking her head in her hands because none of her reasonings got into her head.

He just shook his head in response as the silence weighed heavy between the two of them. Tears streamed down her face as they sat there, Alex was more fine with this tension than he was with being without her. “We just can’t…y/n.” Alex said.

“I’m really sorry” she said as she looked back up at him teary eyed. The tears seemingly made everything difficult for sure. “It’s going to be alright…” she wiped her tears and looked away again. His sad gaze was so gutting to look at and talk at the same time it felt like it would stick with her, hauntingly, even after she leaves.

“But it’s alright already” He urged shifting closer to her and wrapping an arm around her trying to meet her eyes but she kept her gaze fixated at the coffee table.

“That’s what you want to think” she said softly with a heavy heart. “I don’t want to do this either Alex…it’s for the best.”

If it were for the best he wouldn’t be feeling his heart sink lower and his breath shortening. His vision becoming fuzzy already as tears brimmed in his eyes as well. But he wanted to handle this more delicately. “It isn’t, you know it isn’t.” He sniffled. “This isn’t what I want and I know it’s not what you want either, why do you feel this way? This need to run?”

“I’m not running Alex” I’m setting you free, she didn’t say out loud “I’ve been thinking about this a lot and…and this is going to hurt. It will hurt for a while but you’ll get over it.”

“Get over you? Y/n I don’t plan on leaving you” he said still drowning in denial. Stern denial and blind faith he could fix this mess, if he talked to her more. He could fix this mess, if he asked her sleep on it. He could fix this mess, if he held her closer. So he did. “Y/n look at me, look at me.” He forced her to face him. “This isn’t a rational solution. You are going through so much and you are thinking too much but this is a mistake. What we have is bigger than our problems-“

“Alex.” She stopped him midway, staring into his teary eyes with hers the same “This is my problem. You try to make to make it ours, helping me through it is one thing but this is taking up too much effort and energy in your life don’t you get that?”

Alex had never felt this defeated all his life. No reasoning seemed to get to him. He couldn’t digest that she let such thoughts mature for about a week and never once preferred to talk to him about it but just became sure about it. When the fact that she felt so distant from him to not even bring it up brought him to flowing tears. Taking his face into his hands he cried. Breaking down, y/n never saw him like this and she had seen him go through supposedly tougher situations. “You can’t do this to me” he said, his voice parched and eyes red.

The thought of leaving the next day in the morning, sleeping in different bedrooms and hugging him a goodbye at breakfast was so done now. If she didn’t leave now she won’t be able to leave ever. Just holding his face in her hands as her tears streamed down her face reciprocating his. She couldn’t even muster the courage to mouth a sorry. She glanced away at her keys and wallet by the side table. It hit her like a truck when she realised there won’t be a goodbye tomorrow but today. This very moment. She slowly got her car keys and wallet and put them on her side. “It’s going to be okay…” she said sighing. Cupping his face in her hands as he reciprocated the action holding her hands and staring into her eyes.

“No it’s not” he replied with heavy grief laced in his voice. Why wouldn’t she do anything to change this? Why would she let it be this way? He felt helpless to how she firm she was about this. He placed his lips onto hers holding her closer by her waist as she cradled his face. It time were to stop he’d prefer death over letting her go. As they kissed he realised how temporary this moment will be and how this memory will bite him with sharp teeth of yearning. He couldn’t stomach the thought that she would be a memory. Visit him in nostalgia and come up in conversations and that would be all?

Eventually she pulled away from their kiss, wiping his tears with her hands as her own surfaced her face too. His dreary eyes had such an effect upon she couldn’t bare it and she softly kissed him again. His hands would still not let her go. As moments passed in holding each other and the kisses broke she realised it was time. “Goodbye, Alex.” She spoke with a voice barely above whisper because the sound of her voice breaking was louder.

His eyes widened as he realised she was leaving, now. He had barely come to terms with the fact that she was leaving. He held her hand back as she tried standing up. “You’re leaving?” His voice broke as he asked that. Y/n didn’t have it in herself to answer him what he already knew she just looked at him apologetically. Apology she knew she didn’t deserve at this very moment. “You can’t just leave right now-think about this. Sleep on it, if you still want to go leave next week?”

His negotiations seemed to know no bounds and the bargain was to get him nowhere. It would probably make him worse if she stayed. If she stayed after this. “Alex-“

“You can’t even drive in this state y/n absolutely not-if you want a break from me we could just sleep in separate bedrooms I won’t bother you-“ he tried to come up with all possible alternatives.

Her heart sank further realising how further he'd go just to make her stay. It solidified her decision of her leaving because he would always chose her above himself, even at the expense of himself hurting. She had to love him enough to let him go. “Alex…” she breathed stopping him midway “I have to.” Shaking her head she stood up to leave but didn’t see him stand up at the corner of her eyes. Somewhat relived it wouldn’t be harder to walk out that door perhaps. As she clutched her keys and wallet she felt a tug at her leg.

Looking behind to see Alex on his knees for her, it was perhaps the worst sight ever her tears reciprocating his again before he even spoke. “Y/n I beg of you please don’t go” he said as he wrapped his arms around her legs, on his knees weeping for her.

Trying to remain balanced on her footing against his grip, “don’t do this” she pleaded as her voice broke and she knelt to his level. “Please don’t make this harder.” She cried choking on her words and held his hands. Alex held her hands back very tightly.

“It doesn’t have to be hard at all” he spoke through tears as she sat close to him he brought her closer naturally settling onto his lap. As she cried and wiped his tears more just streamed down his face, “We can make it out of this y/n please, trust me please have some faith in us”

The desperation in his voice, the tears and his words it was all so gutting. This would me one of those moments she would perhaps never recover from. If she ever finds happiness again she felt like it would be at the expense of this, it would be hard for him. Very hard, but he would do so much better if she left. It was evident how much he was willing to give even to the last moment, it was concerning. “You can’t love someone this hard” y/n held his face in her hands and told him sternly “I am very miserable and I’m bringing you the same pain-over and over. This is it Alex. You won’t hurt again at the hands of me and I’m sorry it is this way…” she told him. He had no words but tears to shed. He sat absolutely defeated with her entangled in his arms. Neither he said anything nor did she.

Y/n held him back wrapping her arms around him giving him a hug or maybe hiding his teary face from herself and likewise. Rubbing his back as she hugged him sitting upon his lap. He buried his face by her neck holding her close. If the world were to end he wouldn’t care because it already did for him. The thought that this was probably the last time she would be in his arms like this made his agony worsen.

They just held each other for almost a whole hour, her head resting by his chest as they sat intertwined. The silent and slow understanding of the end. Some picture frames on the coffee table and the wall ahead, somewhat blurry because of the tears, those memories came back so much clearer. There will be no more and these will just remain pictures. Alex let out a shudder of a breath at that thought. “Where will you go?” He asked her in a tone just above a whisper.

“To my dad’s.” She replied softly without looking back up at him nor attempting to shift away from his grip. Last of his warmth. Theirs.

“He was just starting to like me…” he spoke as a soft chuckle escaped him through the tears and y/n’s followed. He would often joke with her that her dad ‘hated him’ because he was rather stern to him and she would always tell him otherwise. In truth he may be but what did it all matter now? He looked down at her in his arms when she let out a little laugh too but then quivering, broke down in his arms. He kissed the top of her head with silent consoling and holding her with the last of his love she’d let him give her.

The night wouldn’t last forever just like them and she finally left. With much courage and a heavy heart out of his arms and then their shared place. Alex couldn’t watch her leave and he did not. The last glimpse he caught of her face before he kissed the top of her head. He would think back to this for a long while and he wanted to remember her beautiful face and not her leaving him. She left and the door shut, on their house and their life together.

-

A job is a job. However excruciating and beaten down, it finds you on your face but you’re bound to return. Y/n did as well. Over half a year, she started working again. Lived with her dad to make a comeback to the one place that would have ever even after everything. Her career made a turn eventually the Twitter smear campaigns wear themselves out. Talent comes through in Hollywood despite its vice like grip over its finest stars. Y/n’s project worked out, she avoided the award season despite being nominated but she did walk promotional red carpet for her new project. Time heals.

Time is subjected to heal everything even with some ignited hatred if that be to overcome the hurt. Alex, he grew to despise y/n. The first few months hurt so much, everywhere in the house he’d find his things even after she collected them. There were pieces of her everywhere. Their pictures were what hurt the least. Even after he moved out of the place whose sunrise constantly reminded of her absence of his arm. He kept finding her things everywhere. The longing could surround him for long until he turned all of that sadness into a harsher emotion. It was difficult to teach himself to decline her thoughts, hate her. But he did and that’s when he wasn’t as sad.

When the devil can’t reach you it keeps you on Alex turner’s bad side. Or perhaps send you to him. Just as now, y/n was doing her friend of years, Richard, a favour. Moreover Richard pleaded and begged her to do so. He was making a music video for the arctic monkeys and the studio’s PR team members wanted y/n specially or pull the cord of the entire project. Since her career was booming it would be perfect publicity for the upcoming single and her history with Alex. Y/n would rather not indulge in such at all, especially with Alex. Richard assured her that Alex wouldn’t even be on the set for the music video and it was set in Ireland’s grasslands. Too far for Alex to attend anyways since he wasn’t in the music video.

First day on set after she lands there y/n finds herself treated with warmth with the core team. The operator, the camera team, the crew most of them were faces she’d previously known. Everyone ‘glad’ to see her working again was a comment she was irked with for a while ever since she’d returned to working. They always said it in a comforting tone as if she’d was coming back from jail or so, such patient like sympathy was difficult but not anymore. Very comfortably used to it. Superficial condolences in the best way perhaps.

“Missed you fuckface!” She laughed as she hugged Richard on the set and he joined along. Hugging her back, they’d met after a long while.

“I did too, you jerk.” He laughed and ruffled her hair a bit, she nudged away in response and their inside jokes kept ongoing. Through the conversations it swayed back to being on set and Richard worked her through the video.

“This place is so remote I’m so glad you agreed because nobody else would’ve come this far and Alex wanted just you.” Richard mentioned as he talked her through the cinematic of it.

“Wait, Alex did?” Y/n asked furrowing her brows together. Richard had stated to her that Alex wouldn’t be there at all so him wanting her for the video, ‘just her’ was somewhat unbelievable.

“The record did…it’s kind of the same thing.” Richard replied.

“It’s not” she shrugged given she knew the context conversations between Alex and the record from when they were together. “I’m just so glad he’s not here”

“He’s not a bad person you know” Richard accounted for him thinking the breakup was his fault given how rigid y/n was not wanting to sign up for an AM project.

“Oh no of course not” he’s an angel, she didn’t say out loud. Alex kept whatever happened between them through the break up private. He didn’t even paint her out like someone who wronged him to their mutual friends, when he could’ve done so.

“Then why do you have such a problem with him being here?” Richard asked with voice laced of confusion and curiosity.

“I don’t have a problem just too much-“ drama? Bad memories? Good memories? Regret? All too much perhaps.

“Well that’s great then because he might be here.” Richard spoke hurriedly despite his promise he was just making the video he couldn’t dictate who could and could not be on set. Especially not the lead singer.

“What? What do you mean?” She asked with a dejected scoff, she believed him when he’d promised that Alex won’t be on set. “What do you mean here Richard you told me-“

“I mean here as in he may be around but he’s here for now-“ Richard fumbled with his words mentally preparing for the telling off y/n would inflict on him soon enough.

“Here as in?” She asked raising sharp brow at him crossing her arms.

“As in Ireland…” Richard trailed off and took a cue to hastily add the next information as she took in a sharp breath “Could also be on set”

“On set?!” She exclaimed “right now?”

“I’m not sure okay I don’t know-the video script had some changes and he was needed for some pretext or something. Also, y/n. He’s written this song, it’s his band—I can’t just say no to him if he wants to be on set.” Richard explained. The bickering went on back and forth for a while until a voice from behind broke them.

“Richard!” Alex exclaimed as he paced up to the man, all colour drained and also made her flustered when the air shifted with Alex’s hasty walk to Richard who she stood right beside. Alex greeted Richard with a hug. “This is a beautiful location, fantastic work yeah?”

“Ah thanks mate.” Richard said with a smile as they made a small talk about the set and think pieces. He tried to include y/n in the conversation too but Alex didn’t once look to the side as if she wasn’t even present there. Richard talked about some of the crew to Alex and then, wanting to relay it slowly. “And y/n, you know her of course”

“Right yeah” Alex scoffed and made a somewhat bothered expression, irritated in an instant. He did so as if she truly wasn’t present there. Intimidatingly he stood with his hands on his waist, leather jacket, the classic Alex. Soon enough without casting her as much as a glance he took his leave from the conversation.

She wasn’t ready for this conversation, not that it was a conversation at all. Y/n’s little ‘hi there’ was blatantly ignored by him too but it was all expected. She had planned to not cross paths with him but hypothetically after all that went down she had anticipated him being cold like this. She wasn’t mentally prepared for it, not today. However she didn’t hold it against him by all means he had the right to act this way. Even if she wanted to be somewhat offended by his harshness his pleading face, desperate tone, begging her not to leave on his knees all of it just came flooding back to sink her in regret. If the roles were reversed she would want to be far away from Alex and that’s what she would grant him. Keep her distance.

“So…” Richard trailed off pulling her out of her train of thoughts to talk about the unsolicited harshness. To an outsider, the breakup had been almost 6 months ago and neither of them made any big grievances about it so it was all very odd.

“Don’t.” Y/n shook her head not willing to go into this discourse.

-

I’ll do a few parts to this series let me know if you want to be tagged ;)

Comments and thoughts will be so so so very appreciated please please please let me know

[pianostarinwonderland]

book 8 foreshadow ⁉️ in MY halloween ?!?! 🤯 more likely than u think ! 😳

When I saw Jack Skellington in the last trailer before the Abema stream for this Halloween, I thought, "Oh. Oh this is going to be good. This is going to be so good for the main story."

I've always had a feeling that we were going to meet the Great Seven somehow, where the characters realize the revisions made in the stories they heard of them vs. what actually happened. After all, Twst brings up more than once the idea of history being revised (especially through Lilia's dialogue). And when the first Lost in the Book event with Stitch came out, that possibility has been made even more open. And now with the way this Halloween is written, it feels like a setup for main story.

Halloween, being Twst's biggest event, is the one event that the Twst writers like to use to foreshadow the main story. Halloween 2/Endless Halloween and Glorious Masquerade have been used as foreshadow to Book 7's events. The latter was also used as a kind of reflection of Book 6's story, so in some ways, GloMas was also a transitory period between Book 6 and 7 (and notably, the GloMas stream was also the same stream where they put out the last trailer for Book 7). However, more importantly, in the context of this post, it is worth noting that Halloween 2 came out when Book 6 was still in its first part. Hence, this Nightmare Before Christmas event foreshadowing a Book 8 while we're far from done with Book 7 is very much plausible and that's why I fully believe this.

Here in the Lost in the Book with Tim Burton's Nightmare Before Christmas event, we have Skully J. Graves, a character whose aesthetic not only matches most with Jack Skellington but also idolizes him, who meets his Halloween idol. This is the first time we see any Twst character meeting not only their idol but the Disney character they are twisted from. This is huge! Considering how distant that Twst is set from the time of the villains and heroes, it had always seemed impossible that such a meetup could occur. But slowly, Twst is revealing to us that there are ways that this could happen.

But here's the truly delicious part: We witness Skully learning what kind of person Jack Skellington really is. To Skully (and the community that he grew up in), Jack is a feared Pumpkin King who values the solemn kind of Halloween. However, the real Jack is someone who wants to celebrate Halloween together with people and—at least in the setting of the event—leans towards a Halloween that is more festive and jolly, akin to his wonder for Christmas in the movie. And this shakes Skully to the core, so much so that we see him lose it in Episode 3. We watch him continuously push for his ideas, to the point that he puts his idol to sleep.

If this is foreshadow to Book 8, will we see our characters face that same disillusion? Is that why we have all 7 Overblot characters in this event? Because let's be real, while everyone has a form of admiration for the villains, those 7 are the ones who idolize the Great Seven the most. For fuck's sake, their OB phantoms are the Great Seven in some form. And more importantly: How will they feel learning that everything they've learned is wrong? Will they be like Skully and start fiascos as they cope with the knowledge that has been unfortunately bestowed on them? Or will they grieve for a bit before recovering quickly? Will they, like Skully, start aligning with the opposite side (Skully aligning with Lock, Shock, and Barrel and consequently, Oogie Boogie)? Or will they stay on the same camp, just with more wariness?

But once they get past that, what then will they do? What measures will they take to learn more deeply about the huge historical revisionism that occurs? Will they even do something about it? Where do we play in as the MC that receives these dreams about the stories that did happen?

Something that I do want to bring up is, how do they even meet the Great Seven? One could say, oh they could get sucked into another book, but for characters so grand and worshipped, it feels too little to do something like that. Besides, unless they do something different for the ending of this event, they will come out of the book, not remembering a single thing. Book 7 allowed us to peer into Lilia's past—which felt unreachable—through his dream. Is there a possibility that Malleus might use his unique magic? To peer into someone's dreams about the Great Seven?

... To peer into our dreams?

But imagine if somehow, the Great Seven were alive again and about to wreak havoc in modern Twisted Wonderland. How would they even be revived? I have an old theory about this where the 7 Overblots are used for it. Of course they are just theories made 4 years ago, but it remains as something that haunts me, especially when Idia outright states that someone has to be behind the OBs. We have yet to learn either what occurred between Crowley and Idia's parents in Book 6.

As an end note, it is very intriguing to see where Twst is going. I'm very excited how the main story will turn out from here, and what will happen once we get past the last dorm's arc.

[marithlizard]

A lot of us noticed this table of customers at Ozzie's club back in S1E7, but the light didn't dawn on me until after Apology Tour came out. One of Verosika's employees is doting on Stolas' butler. Another one has her back to the table and doesn't look entirely happy. Acting as lookout maybe, or just thinking "this is dumb"?

The morning after the full moon fiasco, Stolas got an invitation to Verosika's "anti-Blitzo" party. How did she find out about their breakup practically as soon as it happened? How did her card get to Stolas so fast? That little twerp up there getting his horns petted, that's how. Verosika has been keeping tabs on Blitz, she found out he was sleeping with Stolas (maybe from the full moon festival?), and those two succubi were assigned to charm information out of "Pringles". He must have been passing on gossip ever since. It's an elegant bit of background storytelling. The Apology Tour episode was tightly focused and spending time to explain the logistics would have just been a distraction. But if you know there's a connection between Verosika and the butler, then everything lines up.

No wonder she was so sympathetic and familiar with Stolas! She's been hearing about his woes for months. She also knows he can and will sing about his feelings if pressed, and that he's good enough to be a main event at her party. ...Annnnnd now that I'm writing this post, more pieces fall into place. It wasn't coincidence that Verosika got a temp gig in the IMP office building, arranged to be right across the hall, and stole his parking spot. And Blitz knows that. (Maybe everyone but me already knew that). No wonder he was angry even by his standards. Has she messed with him before, I wonder?