#everyone pretend that’s an anatomical correct guitar

[koskela-knights]

Musician AU || Last sketch of the day

[boneslaw]

Basement

Ausland grabbed a knife from the kitchen block. He descended the stairs two at a time. Wood planks creaked like the neurotic swing of a cradle, seconds after the footsteps that threw her head into the table. She panicked, she tried to hide, but there was no hesitation from him. His chest heaved after a half mile sprint. His ribs were on fire. Nettles from the trees hadn't been shaken off his arms, pine needles in his Chucks-

He didn't trust the visions pushed through his head. He wanted to believe that all this faith in her wasn't for nothing. He had to see for himself. Asclepius' warning didn't help. He swung off the handrail, crashing onto the ground floor of his basement. Whatever it was that lurched up his throat, lumpy and burning like bile, was easier to swallow than the body laying there at his feet. “It's not something I want you tangled in..." He told her. Two weeks prior was their six month anniversary. The moment was magical in every sense of the word until it wasn't. It was marred and the culprit was foreshadowing only visible in retrospect. He held onto her that night. His fingers intertwined with hers but his grip was anything but soft. Desperate, he held on like he'd lose her. "It's not something I want for us. Not when we have plans. Trust me. Trust me. Please?" The request was simple. That should have been the end of it. But she didn't call. She didn't ask. She went into the basement. What was a relationship without trust? What was a promise- twice made- if she couldn't keep it? Every blood vessel swollen from its root. Wide-eyed, he prowled over her body. She drew wispy breaths through her bangs. Blood that pooled around her head gave a slight shake like gelatin. Her phone laid cracked to her side, spinning in a slow rotation after her fall. He wanted just one sign that this was an accident. A mistake. That this can end in him sweeping her off the floor, and tending to her wound in the kitchen with a chuckle and a kiss. That stopped being probable when her phone was left unlocked. 9-1... displayed across the screen. His gut sucked in. His abdomen knocked against his spine, as a a convulsive gasp threw him onto the floor. Trust was broken, but he'd made promises to more than her. His opposite hand, one that worshiped her like a Goddess, dug into her hair. He pulled her head from the floor, hand knotted and ready to slam it back through the wood until Mia, his Mia, a self-fulfilling, ingrown parody of Orpheus and Eurydice, soaked through in the floorboards she was never supposed to touch. 'Stop.' Asclepius' said. An amalgamate of flesh and stone towered over them. It had fallen into the backdrop once its grotesque moment in the limelight was over. Ausland didn't pay it mind. Leniency wasn't available when his heart was hammering, when his pleas for her safety and his future had depended on her not doing one thing. Just one thing, the only thing he had ever asked of her. Hesitation nor opposition stopped the swing of the knife- but what pulled the momentum was clarity: his head was blank. There usually was an X. An arc, a graphic connect the dots of where he had to strike to incisively end it. Killing did not come naturally. There was no muscle memory when it wasn't extended. It was always there- but not that he could see. Her face would be cleaved at a slipshod angle. The blade would get jammed in cartilage. She'd wake, screaming and crying, steel between the eyes, and try to say something. He'd listen to a bullshit apology through a sectioned face, split lip weeping an excuse why of he should forgive- He twisted his wrist like he was pulling a rope. His hand wound in her hair so tight it stretched the skin from her skull. He could do it. He could do it. He could ignore Asclepius and finish it, but the fact of the matter set in: Their life was over. She was always on his mind. She was never not on his mind. The last six months was a break from the endless morbid monotony. She was the one. His soulmate. The fixture his future would be sculpted around, the lively ying to the third party in the room. Asclepius had his psyche mired in a warped reality, but the need for normalcy was inherently human. It was inscribed in the bones so deep years under its oppressive power hadn't yet shaken it. His whimpering bordered on incoherence. Asclepius was hardly a sympathetic ear but he had no one else. "She shouldn't be here." He broke. Nose to nose, he pulled her in, openly weeping into her unconscious cheek. The hold he had over her scalp had her eyes open- just a sliver- offering no motive. "Why? Why did you do it? I didn't want you here, Mia, I didn't-" 'Neither did I.' Asclepius said. It's exposed rib cage expanded and deflated slower now that the excitement passed. 'But am I surprised?' "You were right about her..." 'And I wish I wasn't.' His knuckles blanched around the handle. Mia laid as a blondish, pinkish blur at his knees. Motionless, she hadn't moved since he'd arrived- despite how much he wanted her to explain. How much he wanted to scream, to ask why. And how much he wanted to punch a hole through her brain when asking lead to further deception. Hatred and heartbreak were a volatile cocktail his body didn't know how to process. 'She saw the best sides of you and took advantage of it.' Asclepius narrated his thoughts. 'Boston wasn't going to happen. That future she fabricated? A pipe dream. She wanted in your head.' It said. 'And it worked. Because you are compassionate. You're a beautiful soul and she saw the idealist in you, the creative artist- but she's a manipulative parasite who takes and destroys. She was only out to corrupt everything you worked for.' He saw the cabin. The dirt road sprawled through the woods, in a sweeping view until the brush broke onto the asphalt. The highway drew a distinct line between obligation, his past, and everything else life had to offer. The City On The Hill was a fantasy. It was a bustling metropolis where he could pluck a guitar in a different hipster joint every night, singing his heart out to the captive audience of a coffee shop And she was with him. Mia was warmth. She was comfort. She was inside jokes, domestic bliss. She was inspiration, words coming to him easy in the quiet moments were fondness filled his chest cavity like helium. She'd be in the papers. A household name. He'd tell everyone on the street who he was with. He'd sing about her, she'd write about him. They'd be proud, dumb, in love, and they'd build a house together. They'd meld their styles until it produced something so distinctively theirs that they couldn't imagine life any other way. But that fantasy caught flame. Colliding with the Earth, it burned like the Hindenburg, razing along Interstate 93 and following them back to where they were now: her head in his lap, and a knife focused for her temple. Tightly wound tendons in his fingers ached. Curls wound in his palm shook loose. His grip slipped as he trembled but he couldn't hit her if he tried. "I could've run away with her. I could've ruined everything." 'Drop the knife.' "What if I had gone? What would she have done?" He swallowed, though his throat felt like ash. "You said that's what'd happen, you've been right the whole time-" 'Did you think that's what this was about? Do you think this is vindicating? Look at me.' His head- eyes red, and ringed with guilt- lifted. When he blinked back the tears, its eye focused on him. It rolled into the stone web of petrified fingers to meet his gaze. It's pupil narrowed to a pinprick. It was sympathetic, when everything human deceived. 'When you said you loved her more than me- I was not thinking about myself. I was thinking about you. You refused to see how dangerous she was. Do you understand what that's like? Watching you poison yourself? Watching you get sicker every time you looked at her, hanging off everything she said?' An ashen limb reached out. Attached at an angle too obscure to be anatomically correct, it rubbed rhythmic circles in his back. Its knuckles grazing his shuddering shoulder blade. Asclepius' presence was smothering in a way he found familial. It wanted the best for him, even if it meant tough love and everything that came along with it. 'You didn't see her scoping the house when you were 'sick.' You didn't notice the knife she left on the kitchen counter. She went for the basement on your first date and you thought it was an accident? It wasn't chance she found you- she was hunting you down.' The handle was slipping. His hands were sweating. Every good time they had disintegrated. She was subterfuge. She was lies. He was right. Down to the Superlike, she'd been playing him. She pretended to love his poetry, the art she inspired. She kissed his neck, saying all the right things and making the right moves to make her worm her way into his heart and rewire every capillary until it functioned for her. He buckled. Folding over, his torso blunted the explosive, plangent wail from his chest. He had no neighbors for miles, but his cry sent birds from the trees. "THEN WHY CAN'T I END IT?" His shoulders racked with a sob. "Why can't I end it, huh?! Why can't I cut her off, why can't sever this? She destroyed everything. She made me think we had a future- that I'd have a white picket fence. That I could have a dog, a family, a life I can put on Instagram and be proud of. Someone I could bring home to my parents. She made me think I could balance you and the American dream, that I could love you both-" Asclepius' arm crackled. Joints of a closer, separate arm that hadn't moved since rigor mortis closed around the hand holding the knife. His head buzzed with a steady command, borrowed a voice different from his own. 'Drop it.' 'Drop it.' 'Drop it.' It chanted. 'No one understands more than I do how much you're suffering.' It layered over the cadence. The rock's eye, soft without a lid to inflect, dipped low. 'I am the only one who understands. But there's more to this than what you're feeling.' 'Drop it...' 'Drop it...' "No." He swiped his eye with his shoulder. 'You will reprimand her for the breach of privacy,' It intoned. 'But you will forgive her. You will call me an art project. You'll tell her it's not done.' "You're letting her go!" He railed. "You're letting her go. Why do you want to save her? You showed me how to throw her head into a faucet. You told me to sink her in the lake every chance you got. I've seen you imagine every bone in her arm breaking, but this is where you quit?!" 'And this is the time you choose to doubt me?' It said. 'Think.' His head flooded. Memories- not of Mia, but his life. Every time fight with his parents. When his band disbanded, and every girl that broke his heart from high school to college. The degree whose chance he spoiled, Exam after exam failed, results in envelopes he shredded before opening. Asclepius was always there, ready to console and build him back from the ground-up... But this time felt different. Ausland's posture slipped, falling off his ankles and onto the floor. "I can't do this, man. I loved her." 'You can, and you will. I would never hurt you like she did. Drop the knife.' Necrotic fingernails sank into his wrist. Gently, it pressed, until his thumb slacked. The blade fell. It notched the wood, severing a curl with it. An errant, twisted ankle kicked it away. 'Good. And now...?' It provided the next step. Imagery burrowed into his head like a parasite. The guidance he craved, the resolution to this heartbreak wasn't supposed to be mercy but it was all Asclepius was offering. This request in particular was sadistic. "Why are you doing this?" He asked. "You want to talk to her?" 'Ausland...' He felt the contrasting sensations of what it was asked of him against his palm. Warm blood against stone. Asclepius had a spot picked out, lovingly offering a blank face of caprock, ripe for the taking. Blood meant he would be continuing the charade. "I loved her, man. I loved her so much..." 'I know.' It said. 'There will be time to deal with that. But trust me.' It refreshed the favor. Surrendering to the only force that'd been a constant, his hand moved. Blind, apathetic faith, he followed the direction the phantom thought laid out. Blood spilled over his fingers. His palm smeared a layer off the ground, and crosshatched it across the slate. He painted in broad strokes, splitting his own palm with the pressure. The game would go on. This time, with two players. 'This isn't the end.' Asclepius rewarded. 'The world feels like its over, but this is the start. You did the right thing.' Various limbs bristled. The red, pulsating glow from its 'chest' momentarily brightened. Ausland didn't know what it meant but he wasn't considering much of anything. Pent up rage and sorrow receded. In its place was a numbness, a coping mechanism, so when she opened her eyes she wasn't staring abject homicidal intent in the face. 'She's waking. Wipe your hand. Straighten up. You're a concerned boyfriend. You want to know how she hit her head. You were so scared. You were crying because you were worried. I will handle the rest.'

[writtenwordsoffic]

Hidden Rooms

So I’ve come up with two new story arch ideas and have thoughts on where to lead them next. Both are Jughead x Reader one’s but I don’t know which one you guys will like better. This is the more lighthearted one. Any feedback would be appreciated and I see this story going about 5 parts if it’s read enough. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it.

Jughead x Reader

Word Count: 2,586

Masterlist

Taglist: @sgarrett49

She was a mystery to me. I was trying to figure her out. Y/N Y/L/N had arrived to Riverdale only a few weeks before Jason Blossoms murder, and from what I could tell so far - she made an effort to stay hidden from almost everyone at the school. I didn’t see her at the mandatory “spirit” inclined pep rallies, lunch, or any sports event and she made a very clear attempt to be avoided in the hallways. Something I could relate to in that manner.

She remained friendly if someone had asked her a question but otherwise never ventured to make a friend.

One day, I got too curious for my own good to find out where she was going to during the all so mandatory assembly’s that Riverdale High somehow seemed to have every other week. It had been 3 months since school had started and I still hadn’t seen her at a single one.

I was able to follow her by pretending to go to the bathroom when we were ushered out of our classroom. I slowly peered over the corner of the hallway and saw her looking over her shoulder. Making sure no one saw her either. She was light as a feather on her toes and obviously knew exactly what she was doing.

She gave a gentle single knock to a door and it was opened for her like a password.

I looked behind my own shoulder and saw no one following and decided to enter as well. I gave the same knock and was greeted by a senior who I barely recognized.

He looked behind him, gently whispering, “Who invited this one?”

Y/N slowly got up from a seat in the corner and waved me through. The senior grabbed his guitar and made it to the back of the room that had a small office to it.

“New kid. The rule is, you can’t be louder than the guitar”, I was a little confused but gave a nod.

I looked around the room that was crowded with about 30 people. The rooms walls were covered from head to toe with random objects, all having no relation to each other. A random African mask, backpacks hanging in weird spots above my head, superhero memorabilia to even small weird statues and large oversized sculptures - one was even a large cookie. After staring around the place a bit, I made my way to Y/N.

Her eyes still weren’t off of me since I entered the room but she was sitting back in her chair now.

I sat down opposite of her to a long table - it was longer than the science tables. “Welcome to the island of misfits Jughead”, she gently whispered.

“Wha…”, she cut me off by giving me a shushing motion with her finger hovering to her lips, I began to whisper after. “What is this place?”

“A safe haven for people who are different”, she gave a slight shrug like I should know better.

I looked around the room to the people who were around me. Lots of them either painting, drawing or writing something. A few them reading out of books, one group was playing cards and others were lightly conversing while doing their aforementioned work before them.

“Haven’t taken an art class yet huh?”, she kept her voice quiet as my eyes went back to hers. I looked down and saw her hands covered in clay with a wooden tray and mats around her gently placed so she didn’t take up much room.

I shook my head. “Does a teacher know about this?”

She nodded. “Yep. He gives us the key before his classroom leaves if they want to go to the pep rally. These three rooms are conjoined”, she motioned to the sides of the room that both had doors connecting to the middle room we were in. “We can only stay in this room and it can’t get passed 50 although, we’ve pushed the limits before. He has an AP senior in here every year to make sure it stays that way. That’s Levi”, she motioned to the guy playing the guitar. “No yelling, no loud music and no telling what happens in here to others unless someone says you can”, she motioned to two girls I somewhat recognized holding hands while whispering, giving each other small kisses and blushes while they talked.

“I get it…”, I gave a nod. “What’s with everything around the room?”. She was looking at her sculpture flicking off a little excess material off with a wooden tool until she looked satisfied enough to look back up to me.

“The teacher has been here like 20 years. Every school day he’s worked, he brings something new into the room. Although some of this is stuff other students have made in jobs they work in now. From the posters to even that backpack”, she pointed to one with Batman adorned to it that looked like a 5 year old would take to school.

She slowly got up from her seat while cleaning her hands off with a wet rag. “Come on”, she nudged her head back to the office where Levi was playing.

“Levi, I need the key. I’ll be quiet”. She motioned to a door.

“I don’t want clay on the doors Y/N”, he looked at her hands that still had quite a bit on them.

“I got a helper. He knows the rules and all”, she gave a small smile to me while looking back.

“Alright. You’re usually quiet as a mouse anyway”, he gave a small shrug and grabbed the rather large keyring that had a good 15 keys on it to her. She motioned for me to grab it.

I grabbed the keys carefully to not make much noise and the tall lanky boy went back to playing his guitar.

She nudged me to a door while we passed the crowded tables who seemed to not notice my presence at all. She grabbed her wooden tray and sculpture and followed me.

“The one with the “S” on it”, she motioned to the keys. “Slowly”.

I followed her directions and opened the door to a room I guessed to be for just sculpture from the looks of it.

The room was completely empty and silent as I closed the door quietly behind her.

“Get the one that says “K” out”, she was focused on her wooden tray she was carrying. She motioned to another door that had a small room behind it as I could see through a tiny window, the room was dark.

I once again slowly and quietly opened a door while she led me in. “Watch your step”, she motioned around the room.

“What’s this place?”, I looked around to see racks of pottery and dry clay around me while two large electric tubs were in the back.

“The kiln room”, she once again said it a matter of factly as if I should have known better. She set her tray on an empty shelf and grabbed a rag out of an apron behind her. Trying once again to clean her hands. She saw my slight look of confusion again while I looked around the room.

“We fire the clay to make all of this. Although a lot of this stuff is more for the advanced students”. She motioned to some small stools that were against wheels that were low to the floor. “Those are pottery wheels, although I’m still not that great at it, it’s really fun”. I gave a nod. “You going to talk yet?”

I gave a quiet chuckle trying to keep my voice from echoing. “I have to say, I’m surprised you’re a talker”.

She gave a smile. “Yeah well, so far this is the only place in Riverdale I can be myself. This small town gets rather creepy and is a little too much out of a David Lynch movie for me. Hold on a second”.

I waited there and a few moments later she was back with a wet paper towel while covering her work. “You have to slowly dry it out otherwise the whole piece can crack”.

“What did you make?”, I was curious now.

She lifted the sheet back up and it was a rather large sized anatomically correct heart. “I’m using it for this piece I’m doing relating to “The Tell Tale Heart. Hands are next…” She gave a slight smile while turning her head deciding if she liked it or not.

I got closer to the piece and lifted the wet paper up, “It’s done really well Y/N”.

“Thanks”, she gave a genuine smile to me. “Come on, we should get back before Levi comes looking. Once he caught two students in here and that really didn’t end well for them…” She gave a small chuckle.

Without a thought, “What were they doing?”

She laughed a little at my words. “Good to know your the innocent type Jughead”, she gave a slight smirk and I had figured it out for myself.

I slowly closed and locked the door behind her while we made it back to the main room. She began to fold her rags from the table while I looked at the thickness. “They're old canvas so my clay doesn’t get everywhere. Most of the kids in here usually paint or draw”, she motioned around the room. “Give those back to Levi eh?”

I nodded and returned back to the small office putting the keys back on the table. Levi looked at the clock behind him and stopped playing. He came out of the office, “10 everyone, then you know the drill”.

I sat back down with Y/N whose hands were slightly dusty but she was more focused on getting the clay out of her nails still with her rag.

“What’s the drill?”, I came closer to her as I was beyond curious of the events I had uncovered.

“Depends. If you have an art class or free period next, you can stay here or go to one of the other rooms that Levi will open up. Otherwise you have to clean yourself up enough and make sure to sneak out of here once the mob of students fill the hallways. Only a few at a time though. To not draw attention".

“Well we’ve got English together next…”.

She gave small chuckle, “I know Jughead. That’s why I’m cleaning up. I just wanted to finish a valve on the heart that’s been bugging me”.

“So this is where you always are huh?”, I once again looked around the room to the students who had never seemed more comfortable or free in their life.

“Didn’t think you noticed me missing”, she gave a smile while putting away her things. She turned around. “Hey Tim, can you put my rags away for me?”.

“Yeah yeah….”, a student with some rather floppy hair behind her nodded while keeping his eyes on his work.

“Thanks. And for getting my stuff out for me”, she looked above his painting, “show Jughead”. She gave a nod towards me. He gave her somewhat questionable eyes. “Oh he’s not going to write names down and publish about this place”, she kind of gave him a slight slap to his shoulder. He gave a sigh and then lifted his painting. He just had black and white paint in front of him yet somehow was able to make the spitting image of John Lennon with a rather tiny brush.

“Wow. That’s amazing”, I looked closer at it while Tim gave a slight smirk and went back to his work.

“He’s honestly one of the best painters in here but he doesn’t see it”, she gave a smirk back to him while he seemed annoyed.

“You mean Mackenzie”, he rolled his eyes.

“Oh come on, she has no original thought and just does portraits. You’re adding another element to that and I know it”, she had a confidence in her words that I didn’t see her have in the months she had been in town. She looked back at the clock. “See ya Tim”. She motioned me to the main door of the room while grabbing her bag and I grasped mine. A few students were already at the door with Levi while he unlocked it. You could hear a crowd of people going through the halls and three students went first. Levi closed the door again, counted to a certain number and then nodded for us to go next. She gave a slight wave to Levi before making our exit.

We went into the mob making sure people didn’t notice what door we were coming out of. “So what did you think?”.

“I think I’ve been to way too many assembly’s when I didn’t need to…” our voices now rose to an actual talking volume.

She laughed. “Yeah well I lucked out with Tim on that one. Still haven’t been to one yet, plan to keep it that way”.

“He seems nice. You two dating?”, I gave an eyebrow as I found my heart beating a little faster than normal.

She gave a laugh, one that I could fully hear now. “Nah, we live together”. My eyes went up as I was curious about her statement but it seemed she didn’t want to dive into it.

She gave a pause. “You do realize everything you found out was “off the record” right?“.

“Yeah I do. I understand the purpose of the room I think…”, I looked at her and her eyes seemed to be gleaming. I had to tear my eyes away to make sure I wasn’t staring too long. “It’s where people can be themselves without any repercussions from what is Riverdale”.

“Pretty much”, she gave a slight sigh as we were coming closer to the English door. “Sorry, but if it’s okay, it’s probably better not to tell any of your friends. Only one cheerleader knows and a guy from the football team but we want to make sure the administration doesn’t find out. Which kind of means keeping it out of the mouths of people that are around Cheryl and her type of people”. She gave a pause, “I just mean people that would tell her, not to judge them or anything. If you really trust someone with it, it’s fine though. We just don’t want gossip about it”.

I gave a nod. “I get it. Some people have secrets in there and it’s theirs to keep”. I had to give myself a little courage in what to ask next. “Before we go in there, can I ask if would you like to go to Pop’s after school?”

“Can’t it’s Friday. But if you want to hang back with me, I can show you something really awesome later”, she gave a smile as if she really did like the invitation. “And then we can go to Pop’s if you want”.

I smiled as it seemed she was rather excited to show me something later. I then gave a thought as my curiosity had once again returned. “Who’s the football player?”

She gave a smirk. “Rules Jughead. Maybe next time”, she gave a rather flirtatious wink to me and I was engrossed. She went into the classroom and her previous demeanor of self preservation had returned. This girl certainly was a mystery, and I felt as if I just hit the tip of the iceberg.