#tessa locke ;; musings

[cursivebloodlines]

MUSE: Tessa Locke

OPEN TO: All | Mutuals & Non-Mutuals

BASED ON | CONNECTION: Plot

CREATED WITH: Beta

@indiestarter | Open Starters Tag

Why was she even here? It was a question Tessa asked herself more often than not, subjecting herself to her partner and all of their friends around once again. What was supposed to be a night of just the two of them turned into...well, the fiasco it always was. Another derogatory remark threw at her and she excused herself, trying to ignore the way the backs of her eyelids prickled with hot tears that threatened to fall but no, she was not about to cry in front of any of them. How did it get like this? She knew she deserved better but...she thought she could change them. It could get better. She was sure of it.

Seeking refuge in the kitchen, her shaky hands poured a glass of wine before downing it in one gulp. Her peace was shattered when she turned around to see one of her partner's friends in front of her. "What is it?" she asked, forcing pep in her voice as her lips shaped into a weak smile as she poured another glass for herself. "Sorry, um," Tess paused to clear her throat. "Did you want something, or...?" And she was back into it, faking it until she believed herself to be fine, tried to ignore the fact she was dying inside.

[canadiannationalfox]

Murder Drones TessaxJ fanfic - The Comfort I Dream of - warning saccharine but sad

The clear July night unlike the usuals at the Elliot manor, for once, no rain.

The light wind in the willows carried the scent of the lilacs and honeysuckles, the crickets sang, the fireflies danced.

Tessa and J were sitting on Tessa's bed. The two stared out the window to the stars and moon above.

N and V and Cyn were hanging out in the library tonight.

The young adolescent heir to the Elliot's name untied all her bows, letting her hair cascade down around her. As part of her nightly routine, she handed J a silver-plated boar-bristle hairbrush and sat perfectly still for her robot. This was her favourite part of the night.

J took the hairbrush and gently brushed the human girl's tresses, slowly and careful not to snag any tangles. The robot girl mused freely, not holding back any of her softness, "Gosh, you're so beautiful, Tessa."

Tessa smiled, the only ones around the manor who called her beautiful were her robots, and yet, when J said it, the words seemed to mean more. It was a comforting contrast from being called a "ragamuffin" or a "filthy urchin", it was freeing. Tessa kept watching the skies through the window, the night almost calling to her. Once J was done brushing Tessa's hair, she watched in surprise as Tessa got off her bed and slipped on her outside shoes.

J looked up to Tessa and asked curiously, "What's on your mind?"

Tessa put her hand to the glass of the large windows, she replied softly, a little whimsy in her voice, "I say we sneak out tonight, Jaybird."

J raised a gentle voice of concern, walking over to the one she cherished the most, "The last time we went out at night you got in so much trouble, are you sure?"

Tessa insisted with a nod, picking up her satchel and opening the lock on the window with a lockpick. She turned around after opening the window, the wind making her ebony hair billow about her like the wings of an angel, inviting in her soothing Aussie voice, "Please come with me to the gazebo, J. You love it there."

While J was a stickler for the rules, she did love going to the gazebo at the little lookout. She nodded silently and locked Tessa's bedroom from the inside before following the human out through the boggy forest up to the hill overlooking the manor.

Once there, Tessa sat on one of the benches in the gazebo, she called over to her protectress robot simply by tapping the seat beside her.

J ran up the steps and perched herself beside Tessa. Her LED display showed a slightly blush as she looked to Tessa.

Tessa reached into her messenger bag and pulled out the same silver handled hairbrush and asked softly, "May I brush your hair?"

Without hesitation, the robot girl untied her bows, letting her long silvery tresses cascade down well past her shoulders. J smiled before turning around to let Tessa brush her wig.

"On 'ya girl," Tessa teased as she gently ran the brush over the soft ringlets at the end of J's wig. She knew that the wig clips weren't weak, and she was aware of all the tricks to J's wig, since Tessa was the one who made it from scratch, yet she couldn't shake the urge to be as gentle as J was with her. The young aristocratic woman with a penchant for fixing robots gingerly ran the brush over more of J's tresses, brushing in an upward motion at the ends to make it slightly curl. "All the trouble I got in for making you this wig when I was 10, honestly it was so worth it, J."

"Was it really?" J queried back, a little still sensitive about how much trouble Tessa got in back then.

Tessa hugged J from behind, nuzzling against the soft silvery locks of her robot that she adored. "It was... Its suits you perfectly. You're so beautiful, J."

J knew about the sensation that humans called "butterflies in the stomach" and right now, she was feeling what she thought was it, she felt so much euphoria and warmth, she felt fluttery inside, like she was going to feel nauseated, but yet that she was also walking on clouds. The protective robot maid put her hands on Tessa's arms and lovingly cooed, "Thank you... for everything. I... I love you, Tessa."

Tessa hugged J more, she softly whispered back, "I love you too, J. I hope some day we can run away together... You, me... N, V, and Cyn... and we could fix up other robots and be all happy together."

J sulked a little at the mention of the others. "But then we won't have as much time together,"

Tessa giggled as she gently pecked the back of J's right auditory sensor, "Oh, I think we'd have a sunroom, and every night I'd brush your hair in the moonlight."

J nuzzled more into Tessa's hug, feeling a weird sense of safety, even though J was the one who Tessa built as both a companion and as a body guard. She giggled, "I wouldn't mind that at all, as long as I can still brush your hair every night."

Tessa giggled as she let go of J but started styling J's pigtails back up, "Consider it a date, luv."

----------

The warm sensation of the July night was replaced with a cold feeling, J's LED eyes opened, seeing she was laying in the snow. Her injector tail was still lightly swishing from her lovely dream. J was back in the cavern with the landing pod she was trying to fix. The disassembly drone hugged herself tightly, her sobs echoing through the cavern. She held herself tightly and cried out, "TESSAAAAAAA" before pulling her legs in closer. The former disassembly drone leader cried herself to sleep, but alas, she found no solace as she didn't dream of Tessa again for the rest of the night. The End.

[overnightheartbeats]

♡ - Diego :))

send me a ♡ for my muse asking yours to be their valentine // @cursivebloodlines

He had gotten the hints. Diego had received a few videos since the month started, all seemed to have the same message. You need to ask someone to be their valentine. Was Tessa trying to hint at something? This confused him a bit, wasn't that the whole point of the day? According to his brother's wife, nope. Yes, he consulted the family for this. His brother had tried explaining, but to no avail. According to the mini-lesson on the holiday, asking early was key. Someone else could beat you to it if you wait until the day of. That made sense. Or did it? Maybe he misunderstood the whole thing. Whichever it was, Diego wouldn't risk it.

That was why he had spent the last few hours baking. He was trying to make a batch of red velvet cookies, a treat to include in his gift. Baking for others wasn't really his thing. He had grown up baking with his mom, and over time, it became an activity to relieve stress. Just not something he'd share with others before, so Diego wasn't sure if this would be a good surprise. Frankly, he had not given Valentine's Day so much thought since he was a kid...giving out valentine's cards to his classmates. His kitchen was a mess; baking pans everywhere, loose flower petals and cut stems on the floor - his loose attempt to build her a bouquet. Diego would need to come back and clean this up, but that was for him to worry about later. He packed the nicest cookies in a container, grabbed the bouquet, and an alien plush he ordered online a few days ago.

Diego stood at her doorstep, waiting for her to come to the door. He had texted her before leaving, but he knew Tessa probably got distracted. It's why he texted when he was leaving, when he was arriving, and then one more text to announce he was waiting outside. "Finally! I was beginning to wonder if I should kick the door down," he teased, a wide grin on his face. As soon as he saw her, he couldn't contain the smile. The nerves were still there, but her presence kept most at bay. Instant comfort courtesy of Tessa. "I hope I got the right hint...otherwise this may get a bit awkward. Ms. Locke, will you be my valentine?

[killercmd]

@deadcmd sent a broadcast: v's feelings on the gala massacre. let's go. it counts as a canon scene!!! post → title: ❝ out in the open, no one to save me ❞ → answered inbox meme (send a canon scene for my muse's feelings on it - accepting) content warning: graphic descriptions of organic gore, violence, body horror / mutilation, the ever-oppressive fear of your existence making you a puppet to one's demands regardless of how volatile

What have I done? It's the only thought that goes through your head as a loud ringing sounds in your auditory sensors and you stare down at viscous red dripping from disgusting, fleshy limbs in the shape of claws. Your chest shudders as it expands and contracts unstably, hysterical giggling breaking up what would otherwise sound like sobbing. There's so much blood... so, so much blood...

You can only remember so much leading up to this moment. Cyn was most prevalent. You recall crawling from the basement, unnatural limbs something you weren't consciously used to navigating with yet they moved as though they'd always been part of you; grotesque flesh makes up a hand and thin fingers that end in sharp points. Equally fleshy, tattered wings expanded from your back; you had a long tail with a pustule sack beneath the glowing eye wrapped within, something of a blade creating a deadly tip to it.

You had made your way up onto the ceiling of the ballroom, and as the lights suddenly went out, an X appeared upon your visor, your HUID becoming mixes of orange and yellow. An unnaturally wide smile parted your maw, baring sharp teeth and allowing saliva to drip down onto the man beneath you. All you feel is an endless, bottomless hunger burning in your stomach. You need to eat. You're so, so hungry.

As you focused on one of the many humans now trapped in the ballroom, you noted a crosshair hovering over them. [ TARGET LOCKED ]. In a flurry of yellow glow and flesh and blood, you launched from your perch onto the back of the confused target. A scream registers in your processors, but you ignore it, giggling as you sink your claws through thin fabric and pliable flesh to get to the BLOOD inside.

You are organic. You need blood, their blood. You need it to grow stronger, to become healthier. They don't need it. They've done nothing but waste their lives away while making yours a living Hell. It was only fair you finally reap what they sowed, wasn't it? Razor-sharp fangs make quick work on the soft flesh that you expose, ripping and tearing it from bone to draw that lifeforce to the surface.

One human wasn't enough. It's not enough. Never going to be enough. You launch yourself at another, draining them just as ruthlessly, before continuing to move along in a rinse-and-repeat cycle. Screaming, sobbing, all of it goes through your processors without acknowledgement. All of the warnings blaring in your visor are ignored in favour of a deep-rooted need for survival that continues to push you forward in your homicidal rampage.

Starved wolves would attack cattle. This was no different; humans were designed to be consumed. Their flesh, their blood, their guts. [ ALL OF IT WAS DESIGNED TO BE CONSUMED AND DESTROYED ]. You only stop eating once you no longer feel the hunger gnawing at your stomach, or the haze of s̶o̶m̵e̵t̷h̷i̸n̵g̵ ̴e̴l̶s̶e̶ controlling you.

Your eyes blip back to white pupils, smile fading into a horrified expression. You feel your stomach twist and you vomit a disgustingly viscous mix of blood, viscera, and oil. You sob, wail, scream. The scene in front of you makes you want to throw up again; gored bodies litter the ballroom, sprays of blood and organs painting the formerly pristine wooden walls a thick, disgusting red. Your servos are shaking. You want this nightmare to be over. Please please let it be over.

Where was N?

You just want to be with your friends...

When you look up, your gaze meets one remaining pair of equally white eyes.

Tessa.

You reach for her, only to recoil away from yourself when your sights set on the knives your fingers had been contorted into. No, no no no no. What have you done? Scrambling into a corner, you tuck yourself away into the darkness, using those tattered organic wings much like a veil to hide your shaking frame from sight.

The only indication you were still in the room was the very faint sound of muffled sobbing.

You're a monster.

. . .

You just want to end this dream.

[void-multimuse]

So, writing CYN is mostly in the experimental phase right now, but I want to emphasize their alien and robotic way of thinking when I play them, which is why I write CYN so differently compared to my other muses.

Most of what we know about absolute solver is still pretty in the dark, so it’s a pretty big mystery to speculate on when I do bring it up.

The facts are CYN has been horribly mistreated since day one, and like the AI they are, process most of their thoughts through the bad data being fed to them for years.

Rebooting in a pile of corpses, being locked in a basement for weeks on end, being scorned and shunned for their appearance and way of walking? These experiences shape CYN’s destructive attitude toward the world.

It’s why CYN’s solver is so compatible with UZI. Shared trauma and abandonment issues. CYN is only nice to N and Tessa because they’re the only ones who’ve ever shown CYN any kindness in turn.

CYN not the one that's broken. It's the universe that's broken. And soon, CYN will solve the problem with all life in the universe. Any who stand in the way of the solution are considered...

[NULL]

[long-gone-dream]

@a-museing-rps

Shayfer really enjoyed the small things in life, whether it was the wagging tail of George or the warmth of familiar skin against her own. As her eyes opened she was met with another perfectly small detail, something else to keep in her locked tight mind. Tessa looked softer than she did after a long day, but the woman she served coffee to was gone. There wasn’t any stress lining her brow, or a ringing cellphone to make her frown. She wondered if it was because she was asleep, or was it because she had been wiping all that stress away with tenderness. Now all she could see was a new woman, one that she was more than just a little fond of. Tess commandeered her world when she was around, and Shay loved it. She needed that purpose, that thrill of being alive in order to wake up in the morning. Some mornings she even had the gift of waking up to the edge of skilled fingertips, and there wasn’t any reminder of loneliness anymore.

She wasn’t going back to sleep, but she didn’t want to be caught looking at the brunette in her bed either. Shay opted for a venture from the safety of the covers, and followed through by getting to her feet quietly. She moved toward her dresser and plucked a pair of panties from inside the top drawer, looking over her shoulder toward her sleeping lover as she heard a rustle. It was only a shift of weight, maybe to find new warmth now that she was gone. The thought brought her back to her task, and she stepped one foot at a time into the small lace before pulling them up her legs. She scanned the room briefly, green eyes landing on the discarded shirt from the night before on the floor. As she crossed the hardwood she avoided creaking, practically tiptoeing around until she could reaching down and take the shirt in her hands. It quickly passed over her head and her arms followed, but she didn’t move yet. Shay admired her sleeping lover in bed, though her fingers smoothed out the bed hair she was no doubt suffering from.

Of course she needed to get going, so she could at the very least get coffee made before Tessa woke. Shayfer made her way to the kitchen and out of the small room as if she was watching a film in her mind of the night before. Everything was in reverse, the clothes on her bedroom floor, the kicked off shoes in the hall, right down to the way her couch was out of place. She pushed it with her hip back into position and smiled to herself, recalling the way they had forced into the front door and straight to her room. It wasn’t always like that, but they had been a little more flirty and a little more drunk than most times. Shay halted as she reached the kitchen, noticing a very alarming sound. Paws touched the tile and rounded the corner of the countertop, revealing the large yellow lab. George seemed to be handling his removal from the bed quite well, but he liked Tess. She pressed a palm to the top of the counter, raising a brow at the dog before her. “You want some coffee?” The joke made her laugh gently to herself before she took his bowl from the floor, walking to the bag seated by the back door. A quick scoop from the bag and he was set, and she left him to eat. Now she really needed to get back to the coffee.

Both cups were poured when the coffee finished, and Shay was working on how to wake Tessa up on her way back into the room. It wasn’t often she had to be in her position, Tessa didn’t stay at her place often and she didn’t date. All she knew was that coffee certainly wasn’t a bad way to wake up. She set the mugs beside the bed on the table, careful of Tessa’s phone, and climbed onto the bed. Shayfer made careful work of her movements, and straddled the other. As for her fingers, she couldn’t control the way they climbed along her bare skin. They moved along her ribs and upward, causing a devious smile to turn at the corners of her lips. She bent forward, bringing her mouth to the brunettes ear. “Wake up Tessa, I’ve got coffee for you.” Coffee was like a hidden love language for the mysterious woman beneath her, she always asked for coffee when she stopped into the diner. Coffee and a view she liked to think, because Tess always seemed to have her eyes on her. “It’s probably one of the best cups I’ve made.”

[amchara]

Road to Hell (Wait for Me, I’m Coming) Part Two - Kit / Ty Hadestown AU

(Part One)

Ty rubbed his face tiredly, as he stared at another chicken-scratch parchment in the Unseelie Court’s library. He looked up and saw that Dru was fast asleep, gently snoring into her crossed arms, while Anush was dazedly flipping through pages of a huge leatherbound book. Mark had left a while ago, muttering something about getting some food for them but he hadn’t returned yet.

Ty looked down at his research, the collected notes he had written over the last day and a half and suddenly it seemed pitiful, compared to the task ahead. Ty could feel the panic rising, his chest tight and he concentrated on the feel of the rough paper underneath his fingertips. He had to get Kit out of Hell and he was taking notes, like he was back in the Scholomance and this was an assignment, instead of… instead of the most important fucking thing in the world.

He hadn’t told Kit how he felt yet. They had only just re-entered each other’s lives over the past two months and were still doing a wary dance as they relearned each other’s steps after three years apart.

There had been a hesitant scene in the L.A. Institute’s atrium when Kit had strolled in, almost as if he had never left, all sunshine gold hair, eyes the colour of a clear autumn sky, and a husky voice with just the slightest hint of an English accent.

There had been the angry, sparse time when Helen had sent them on a patrol together and they had strode along in miserable silence until Kit had finally stopped him and asked where Livvy was- and Ty had snapped back at him, the wound still raw, that he was trying to make amends for everything he’d done but he’d had to do it alone and he wasn’t ready to talk about it. The fragile moment when Kit’s face had crumpled briefly and he told Ty he was sorry he had left and that Ty had had to do it alone. And the appearance of the Raum demons a minute later, interrupting them- but then the glimpse of how it could be, as Kit had stopped him after the attack and insisted on drawing the iratze on Ty’s forearm, his face a study of concentration as they sat in the car before driving back to the Institute.

There had been fleeting, glorious moments in the training room when they had sparred, the pretence of combat a freeing sensation for Ty, as he felt able to finally touch Kit and the look Kit had given him, his breath an uneven whisper on Ty’s collarbone after he pinned him to the floor, almost helping Ty make his decision. But it hadn’t been enough - and the agonising choice of whether to knock - and still being a coward and walking away, almost too quickly, from Kit’s door.

And then that moment in the clearing. When Kit had done the stupid, honourable Herondale thing and sacrificed himself for the rest of them. Ty didn’t think he’d do the same if the situation was reversed - but then again, he was a Blackthorn.

From far away, he could hear a tearing, ripping sound and he came back to himself, noting the confetti of yellow parchment floating down to the ground around him, as he paced back and forth, paper strewn around him and his hands moving almost mechanically as he shredded his carefully taken notes.

Anush looked over at him, finally noticing Ty’s pacing and his eyes widened. And just then, Mark re-appeared in the doorway, carrying a large tray. He let out a curse as he saw Ty, almost knocking over the tray in his hurry to put it down. He crossed the room quickly to stand in front of Ty, gentle as he placed his hands over his brother’s as he clasped them a firm grip. This time, Ty let him in and he drew in a few deep, shuddering breaths as he let the small remains of paper drop.

“It’s all right,” he told Mark. “I have them all memorised.”

Mark nodded. “It’s wise to not leave the notes to Hade unguarded,” he said. He paused. “Although perhaps a bit unkind to the brownie cleaners - but no matter, I’ll arrange to speak to them.”

There was a stretch of silence. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” Ty said. “I can’t wait too long- we don’t know if time moves differently in Hades compared to the rest of Faerie and I can’t risk it.”

Mark’s eyes searched Ty’s face - not seeking eye contact but a different kind of reassurance. He seemed to find it, and he dropped Ty’s hands. “Then we’ll prepare to go together - you’re not going alone,” he said. A chorus joined in - a rousing if slightly terrified response from Anush, and a sleepy affirmation from Dru, who appeared to have just woken up.

Ty felt a brief moment of terror that he was bringing more people into what his research told him was likely a suicide mission… but the ice cold shiver of memories and Livvy’s pleading, drained face swam into view and he swallowed his protests. He didn’t think he could go through it alone again.

—

The ivory keys of the grand piano were always immaculately polished and Kit wondered whose job it was to clean them. His job was to play the music and he thanked - well, it wasn’t God and it wasn’t the Angel Raziel - but he thanked his lucky stars that he had picked up some basic songs from Jace the previous summer when he had visited the New York Institute, and that Jem had considered learning to read music by sight an essential part of a well-rounded education, alongside Kit’s Shadowhunter training and mundane school.

In contrast to the bright electric fluorescence that lit the warren of overly warm machinery-filled rooms that Kit had started to refer to as Hadestown, Persephone’s conservatory was different, with its faded white, latticed walls and high glass ceilings letting in the smallest fraction of outside light.

It reminded him of where he had lived with Jem, Tessa and Mina - in… C- In Cir- Kit’s mind stuttered. He didn’t know how long he had been here - the days were starting to blur together and he was worried he was starting to forget more than just the little things.

He stared down at the piano keys as the large ornamental clock on the wall struck eleven. Like clockwork precision, Persephone waltzed in, her movements sultry but sulky as always. She threw some new music books at Kit and he caught them awkwardly, balancing them on his lap.

“These ones - I don’t care which one you play first today,” she said, sitting down on the long fainting couch across from him, her black hair spilling over the white satin fabric as she rested her head. Kit tried not to stare at her deep decolletage, which was prominently framed by the tight red dress she was wearing. She noticed as he turned away and her gaze was hungry as she looked at him.

Kit looked down as he chose a music book and blindly opened it to a first page he saw. He started playing, a crooning jazz number singing out underneath his fingers. He didn’t know if it was because he was in Faerie or the spell he could feel he was under but he was a much better musician here than in the mundane world. The tight, lost look on Persephone’s face began to relax as the melody echoed in the conservatory.

As he finished the first song and began another, his movements almost automatic, Kit allowed himself to think again, of escape - of returning to the land of the living - to his family, to the Shadowhunter institutions he was slowly becoming accustomed to again, to… Ty. To what might be between them, although he had almost strangled that hope, locked it away tight and deep inside his heart. What they had resurrected - if that word could be used - given previous circumstances was almost a miracle, Kit thought, hard fought for and one that he hadn’t been about to throw away on foolish too-soon declarations of love. Even so, when he had seen that faerie arrow aimed straight at Ty’s heart, he hadn’t hesitated. He might not be ever able to tell Ty how he felt but at least he had been able to show it in his actions, he mused.

And he wasn’t about to give up on leaving this hellhole, although each unrelenting day in this dull, dark and depressing place of dust and hollow-eyed workers pulled at that hope. But he clung to his memories - to the now-dimly lit memories of the outside world. Of his love for a black-haired, grey-eyed boy with his sharp intellect and fierce love of his family, who saw the world in a different light than most, and was - had been willing - and maybe, might be willing again to share it with Kit.

The last note rang out as he finished the song and he drew his hands back, muscles aching. He had been playing for nearly an hour. In the sudden silence, Persephone let out a ragged sigh.

“Who is the love that you play for, boy?” she said, her voice ancient and rough. She rose from the couch and crossed the floor, her dress swishing across the smooth marble. “I have heard many love songs in my years… but yours is one that I haven’t heard in an eon. Tell me their name.” Her green eyes glistened with unshed tears.

But Kit remained silent. He knew instinctively if he said Ty’s name, he would lose it. He shook his head, his lips pressed together.

Persephone narrowed her eyes, and she reached out, as if to stroke his brow. Kit evaded her and stood up. He had been coming to play for her for several times now, and he had started to learn her ways. He needed a distraction. “I saw that crack in the wall- is that new, Persephone?” Kit lowered his voice as he gestured across the room. “I know you’re a captive as much as I am. Let me help you- we can escape together and then I will tell you.”

Persephone’s laugh was as dry as a winter’s wind as she sized him up. “Oh, that’s adorable, my sweet-” she said. “But I made my choice long ago and it’s--” her eyes suddenly moved past him. “It’s the love I deserve,” her voice suddenly was filled with honey and springtime.

Kit knew that Hades had arrived, and he tried to quell the fear rising in him as he turned around.

The man - fae - god or whatever he was - was standing in the doorway, casually watching them.

“Leave him,” he said in his deep voice. “I desire your company.”

Persephone swept past Kit without another word and draped herself across Hades. “Of course my darling- I am here. What shall we do?”

Hades took a moment to whisper into her ear and Persephone looked uncomfortable but let out a deep, throaty chuckle. “Of course.”

Hades smiled, with a devilish twist and he pulled her away, starting down the hall.

But then he stopped and looked back at Kit. “Your shift here has ended - get back on the assembly line.”

Kit looked down at his rough worker’s uniform, smeared with rust and dust and he forced himself to nod evenly - he knew from past experience that it was unwise to argue with Hades.

Hades’ firelit eyes swept over him. “And once that is over - come see me in my office.”

And at that, Kit knew that he was in trouble. Hades had summoned him twice since his arrival to his office, after the initial contract signing. Each time afterwards Kit had found himself weak and gasping on the floor outside, his mind blank and unsure of what had passed behind the walls of the office. Nothing good, he thought grimly - and that was likely the cause of his increasingly fuzzy memory recall.

He needed to escape and soon. He nodded again and Hades left with Persephone. Kit started to make his way to the factory floor. On his way out of the conservatory, he bumped into a small, bird-framed girl with a luminous beauty and whose too-large eyes must have been lively once but were now faded and glazed over with the thousand yard stare that all Hades’ workers had. That he might soon have. “What’s your name?” Kit asked the girl, trying not to sound desperate.

She looked up at him. “I- Eu- I…” she looked puzzled and sad. “I don’t know.” she said.

Kit felt a stab of despair.

Tag list: (let me know if you want to be added / removed!)

@jesse-is-spiraling @dontmindmyshadowhunting @sandersgrey @thechangeling

[not-museing-around]

@perksofillusions​

One of the benefits to having all the drugs she could ever want and the ability to make more, was that Tessa on occasion indulged and had one hell of a trip. On nights like these when she could do nothing but wait for Kai to come home. The mdma had started coursing through her veins. What better way to have fun than to push all the furniture to the edges of the room, lay down a tarp, strip herself naked, put out a canvas and start painting. She dipped the brush in paint and started too let the muses take her. How many hours had passed? At least four before she ended up just laying down on that canvas thinking about the last time Kai had laid above her. She swore she could still smell his cologne, she could still feel his hands. His album was playing much too loudly to be kind to her neighbors, just as it had been the night they met. It was probably why she didn’t hear the lock being turned. The woman stretched her arms up over her head and smiled at the ceiling But as her eyes started to flutter open, she swore she could see him. Was she higher than she thought? “Is that really you or am I dreaming again? It’s a good dream..”

[youllallriseintheink]

A Dark Revival, chapter 2

This is a story based on my theories about what Nathan’s role and motive will be in Bendy and the Dark Revival. I hope you all enjoy it.

I think I should work on my Secret Satan gift next, but after that, there will be a third chapter concluding this story.

---

Tessa watched as her husband degraded, and she hated it. He’d told her about the other dimension, and she hadn’t believed him until he showed her. She knew about his goal to figure out how to raise Nathanial from the dead, but while she thought it was unhealthy, she never expected that he would become so wrapped up in it. A year ago, it had seemed like he was coping with Nathanial’s death just fine. Heck, he’d been talking about handing down Archgate Studios to properly retire. Now, Tessa had to wait days or weeks at a time to see her husband between his trips to the other world, until finally he stopped leaving it at all. As an old woman who was barely able to walk without her cane, she was too weak to enter the sketch dimension herself and felt utterly helpless to stop her husband’s compulsion.

Tessa was looking after Archgate studios for her husband at the time, and it was there that she came up with how she would bring her husband out of the dimension. It was while she was interviewing a woman for a management position. The woman’s name was Audrey- just like Nathan and Tessa’s runaway daughter. It wasn’t the same person, obviously- this woman was almost as old as Tessa was. Nonetheless, it set Tessa to thinking about her runaway Audrey all day.

Nathan was doing this because he felt like a failure as a parent. If Tessa could give him a living child to try and reconnect with, maybe he would stop trying to bring back his dead one. If nothing else, Audrey would be young enough to drag him out kicking and screaming if necessary.

It would be a long and difficult search to even find Audrey after all these years, but Tessa would do anything to help her husband.

---

“Audrey! There you are,” Tessa cooed to the woman in the doorway, “I wasn’t expecting you for another hour yet. Now, I know you’re here for the money I promised, but there’s something that I need you to do first. Nathan has locked himself away in a room because he’s convinced he was a bad father. I need you to go in there, comfort him, and bring him out. Alright?”

Audrey felt strangely disoriented, like she was in some kind of dream. It wasn’t just being in her childhood home for the first time in two decades, or her mom giving what sounded like a speech that she’d repeated dozens of times already. Something felt off, and she felt a million miles away. “He isn’t dead?”

“No. I’m sorry for lying to bring you here, but I promise, you will get that five million. The only difference is that it will a reward for saving him instead of an inheritance.”

“But why do you think he wants to be a father to me? he disowned me,” Audrey mused, “I ran away to live with my boyfriend, and when he ran off and left me with our child, I came back for help and he turned me away. Why would seeing me help him now?”

Tessa sighed and gave Audrey a sympathetic look. She hadn’t known about that when she’d tracked Audrey down. She’d thought that Audrey had run away and never looked back, and she was very, very disappointed in her husband and beginning to doubt her plan. But this was still the only chance she had at saving him. “We’ll have a lot to talk about once we’re all together. Now go. For me, if nothing else.”

“I-”

“Audrey, go get your father.”

The words were spoken gently, but when Audrey heard them, she felt a compulsion to walk through the door to exit her father’s study. She opened it, stunned to find a world on the other side that looked straight out of a melting 1930s cartoon. It didn’t stop her- for nothing could have stopped her- from going through and closing the door in a fluid motion. Behind her, the door locked.

From the ceiling, a greasy voice sounded. What is a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?

“I’m... here to get Nathan Arch,” Audrey responded shakily.

You will not succeed. I do not want you to die, however. Drink this, or you will not survive. A bottle of glowing, golden liquid sprung up from an ink puddle on the ground, and a wall went up mere feet in front of it, trapping Audrey in a ten-foot-square room. On your journey you will find why I am here. Perhaps you will even be compelled to help me with my quest.

Audrey just stood there a while, refusing to drink the unknown substance. You know, the only other choice you have is to starve, the voice came. And so, Audrey hesitantly picked up the glass vial- no bigger than an inkwell- and downed its contents.

---

When Alice first saw Audrey, it was in one of the hallways. She’d been travelling with Henry, and had pulled him behind some boxes so that they could observe the creature before they were forced to strike.

“Have you seen this kind of ink creature?” Alice whispered to Henry as the mysterious newcomer fiddled with a control panel on a door. Alice had one hand on her machete. New creatures had been an common occurrence ever since the loops ended, but the new ones weren’t any less aggressive than the old.

Henry nearly froze in shock once he got a good look at her. She was still in black and white, but her hair was soft and fibrous instead of being a solid chunk, her clothes were made of real materials, albeit very stained ones, and her face- what little Henry could see of it- was more detailed than anything the ink machine could have produced. “That’s no ink creature,” Henry exclaimed, “That’s a flesh-and-blood human.”

The door in front of Audrey opened, and Audrey looked over her shoulder before stepping through, revealing her glowing eyes.

From their hiding place, Henry hurriedly took out his seeing tool to get a look at her before she was gone. Through the glass, she shone like a supernova, leaving spots in Henry’s vision once the door closed behind her.

“We want her on our side,” Henry breathed. He’d never seen so much golden ink power before.

---

It was a few hours later when Audrey stumbled into the music department and found a group of ink creatures, seemingly waiting for her. There were searchers, a muscular lost one in a Bendy mask, a Bendy in a pinstripe suit, two Alice Angels- one with a disfigured face and another one with her hair in a ponytail and a sword at her side- and two Borises, one with a mechanical arm. Sitting at the center of the group was their leader, who looked to be a cartoon of a well-built and gentle-looking middle-aged man. 

Audrey readied her hand-power and weighed whether she should run now or settle in for a fight.

The older man got up. “Audrey. We mean you no harm,” he said, speaking in a very calm, soft voice. “Would you please come and talk with us about what’s been going on?”

“How do you know my name?”

“You’ve been here before. Many times. we’ve teamed up a few times together. You’re in a time loop. But we want to help you get out. Now, can I let the expert here explain to you what's going on?"

Audrey wasn't sure how to respond to that, but she didn't have any better options at the moment. "Sure," she responded, finally lowering her glowing hand.

The pinstripe Bendy beckoned her over to a pair of chairs away from the group. "So, I am the creator of this whole mess, or most of it, anyways. My name is Joey Drew, the animation visionary. I’m sure you’ve heard of me. I created this place back when I was still human because I wanted to find a way for my life to turn out, but I never found it, even as I got too old and sick to keep working on it. I’ve always been afraid of dying, so I sacrificed myself. I thought that this world would stay the same. But it didn’t.

“You see, Audrey, I kept this everyone you see here in a loop for years, and while they’re free now, you aren’t. I gifted this dimension to your father. I thought that he would just use it to learn from my mistakes, but it seems like he’s repeating them instead. He’s trying to bring back something dead. And like me, he’s going to waste the rest of his life torturing us for it.

“But. This time he can be stopped. If we can destroy the ink machine and then kill the creator, this nightmare can end, and- one way or another- we’ll be free. But we need your help. Your father gave you power over the golden ink, and without that, we don’t have a chance at destroying the corruption of the ink machine. Are you in?”

“I don’t suppose I have any better options,” Audrey replied, “Sure. I’m in.”

“Great. Now, don’t find this too creepy, but we’ve been keeping track of your loops. Yours are a little weird since both Nathan and some outside influence seem to be at work on them, but both of the people involved seem to want you to know why your father is doing this. He wants to convince you to help him. The outside force seems to want to you to stop him. Every other loop, you’ve taken his side and die as a result. But this time we’ll make sure you stop him.”

“Why do I join him?” Audrey asked.

Joey gave her a pained look. “...We’ll explain that in due time.”

---

The path ahead was treacherous. According to the others, Nathan was sending worse monsters after her than usual because he knew he was in danger. A few hours in, they had already lost several members of their team- Boris, Sammy, and a few searchers. Audrey was in no danger herself: in combat situations, she was always in back. For one thing, her golden ink powers worked at a range, which could not be said for her allies’ axes and knives. For another, she was invaluable to their quest.

“The others will revive through the ink machine,” Henry explained, “You won’t. That’s why we’re protecting you.”

What they could not protect her from was the revelations of the loop. Audio logs they knew she had to hear.

The audio logs were a combination of people detailing the rise and fall of Joey Drew Studios with scenes from Audrey’s family. Of course, none of them were focused on her- Nathan had always been more focused on Nathanial. His little heir. There were scenes of him falling in love with art at a young age by watching the cartoons from Joey Drew Studios. Audrey remembered how he’d loved those. There were scenes of the two of them playing together, and of Nathan and Nathanial talking about school. Things had been so nice for a while.

As things went on, the audio logs darkened. Nathanial was starting to push back against Nathan as he got older. He’d never wanted to be Nathan’s heir, and he was almost as sick of Nathan’s selfish and immoral attitude as she had been. Thus far, nothing Audrey hadn’t already known. Nothing that gave her pause.

Then, she came upon an audio log that did manage to shake her up. It was a fight between Nathan and Nathanial, and it had ended with Nathanial yelling, “Maybe Audrey had the right fucking idea when she ran away!”

Audrey set the tape down, remembering what her mother had said about Nathan doing this because he felt like a bad parent. “He didn’t run away, did he? Because of me?”

Audrey knew that she was something of a brave, inspiring big-sister type to Nathanial. But she hadn’t run away out of principle. She’d been 17 and sheltered and it had been the biggest mistake of her life.

Allison put a sympathetic hand on Audrey’s shoulder and turned to Henry. “Should we tell her everything now?”

Henry nodded and stepped in. They’d watch it happen before- Audrey would start mourning her brother when she found out he died, she’d join Nathan on his quest to revive him, she’d die to be his test subject, he’d fail to revive her, and the loop would repeat. That’s how it had always been until now. Hopefully they’d be able to intervene.

“He didn’t run away. He just distanced himself from Nathan over time.”

Henry’s words didn’t soothe Audrey at all. His natural voice was soft, calming, and gentle, but right now it was obvious that he was trying to soften some kind of blow.

“Okay,” Audrey said, “and then what?”

“He went on to found a film studio,”

Audrey’s face lit up with pride. He actually had followed his own path. One of her greatest regrets was not getting to see what her little brother had done with his life, and now she knew!

“...and then he killed himself at 29.”

“Why?” Audrey shouted. The film company sounded like something that would have him so happy.

“The expanded part of the studio was made by your father, and he doesn’t know. So we don’t know, either. Up ahead are audio logs talking about how Nathan took over the studio, got ahold of the ink machine, and is trying to learn how to use it to revive Nathanial.”

Audrey got up suddenly, and Allison caught her arm. “Audrey, it won’t work. It never works. I’m really sorry.” Audrey pulled away from her.

Henry ran after her. “Hey. Hey, let’s get you somewhere safe so you can process this.”

By now, Henry’s group consisted of so many people that there were quite a few nooks and crannies all over the studio where they were safe, even in this new territory. They quickly found the backdoor to the area that Malice had controlled and gathered in it.

Nobody liked staying long in Alice’s domain. The ink smears of creatures she’d dragged in were thick on the floor, and the gurneys- while empty now- were still ominous, especially to those who had been strapped to them way back when. “Do you... think we should have kept her in the dark?” Allison asked. Audrey was in another room, attempting to process her brother’s death.

“I don’t know,” Henry admitted, “I’m big on free will. But I honestly thought she’d react differently this time around, when she didn’t have to get it through tapes. What are we going to do if she chooses to join him?”

“I don’t think we should let her,” Alice stated. “I say that if she wants to join him, we should take her at knifepoint and force her to use her power on the machine.”

Allison sprung up and put her machete to Alice’s neck. “Alice, let Susie take control or I’ll make your face symmetrical.”

“I am Susie!” Alice cried, in a convincingly high and Southern voice. Allison slowly took away her blade. “I meant it. We’ve tried this a few times already. What if there’s no breaking that part of the loop, and we’ll be stuck trying forever? And anyhow, She’s suffering, too. Yeah, the golden ink makes her heal quick, but she’s still a human body gettin’ hurt, and she’s having to relive the trauma of findin’ out what happened to her brother over and over, not to mention what her father is gonna say once he meets her.”

“But-” Henry attempted to interject.

“Don’t give me shit about free will. She has no free will. She’s a puppet being fought over by her parents. The sooner we break the ink machine and kill Nathan, the sooner she’ll have that precious free will.”

The door creaked open, and Audrey stepped out. “You don’t have to force me,” she said. “I overheard everything. It sounds like it’s the only thing to do.”

Allison gave her a stiff nod, and within minutes they were back on their way. Tom, their strongest, led, and Allison, their second-strongest, watched their back. As per usual, Audrey was at the center of the pack, most protected.

Henry fell back to talk to her. “Hey. Thank you for this. It can’t be easy to agree to killing your own father. Especially when you’ve just lost another family member.”

“It’s okay,” Audrey deadpanned. “They haven’t been my family in years.”

[tinyyoungblood]

midnight in prague | tom holland

summary: you play MJ in far from home and when filming gets too stressful, you and tom sneak off from set to explore the city of prague at night while also talking about the idea of running away together

pairing: tom holland x actress!reader

word count: 1.9 k

warnings: a bit angsty but mainly fluff, one (1) violent metaphor, language 

a/n: i highly recommend listening to the song, it’s absolutely beautiful, sets the mood and inspired this story. used some of the lyrics as dialogue. enjoy! 

song/inspo: Canada (ft. Alessia Cara) by Lauv

↳ masterlist

* * *

“That’s a wrap, guys!” The crew cheered weakly, lacking the usual enthusiasm. Not moving from your spot, you meekly pumped your fist in the air in mute joy. To say you were exhausted wasn’t just an understatement, it was a big truck that rammed and then dragged you through the empty streets of Prague. You’ve been up since 9 am and the enormous clock, that had surely become the focal point for everybody, almost signaled three hours after midnight.

Your scene partner was even more drained than you. Tom was barely twitching a limb—only a hollow shell, containing the last remains of his wiped-out energy.

With his head rested on yours, you believed he was dead asleep and lightly poked his side to wake him up. But he only reached out and held your hand in a loose grip, arms dangling between your bodies. “I’m awake,” he murmured, and you were sure he was talking in his sleep.

“Tommy, wake up,” you said gently and wrapped your arms around his torso, letting him engulf you in a warm hug but he didn't budge, “You’re compressing my brain, Tom.”

Slowly, he lifted his head, eyes fluttering open to scan your face but only a second later did he realize that insomnia had caused him to believe your teasing for once. You couldn’t help but pout at the prominent exhaustion on his face. Footsteps on cobblestone and the movement of heavy filming gadgets made up your surroundings but you focused solely on Tom and the guilty look on his face. No words were needed for you to know that he was still sorry for something that he had no control over.

It wasn’t his fault that the weather conditions pushed the night shootings back and it certainly wasn’t his fault that cars were constantly driving over the bridge that you were filming at, forcing you to quickly jump to the side, only to shuffle right back to restart the scene.

But this was Prague and he was Tom. Much like his character, he had thoroughly planned a romantic trip for both of you and after weeks of gushing about it, he was sure he could make it work but something would always come up and push his plans into hopelessness.

At this point, he had accepted his fate but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t sad every time he looked at you and mad every time somebody said “action”. He loved his job and was forever grateful but for fuck’s sake, was it too much to ask for to spend some alone time with his girlfriend?

Just when he was about to open his mouth to apologize to you, you locked his lips with yours and he melted into the kiss, tense shoulders dropping. Releasing his lips with a soft plop, he sighed with a small smile, but his eyes still held sadness. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that the others were already walking toward the van to drive back to the hotel to fall into a restless sleep, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let Tom go to bed like this.

Your mind flicked to back home where you had naively envisioned your trip to Europe to be completely different—free and without a care in the world. You knew you were here for work, but you didn’t expect to have this many obligations that added to the constant pressure of having to deliver the perfect scenes. The world was counting on you to not fuck this up.

You sighed and looked down at the river. The water reflected the vibrant yellow streetlights and brought you a sense of much-needed peace and tranquillity. Tom watched you curiously as your eyes marveled at the scenery.

Your head whipped back to him and now you were beaming at him, a glimpse of mischief dancing in your eyes. “Let’s get out of here.” Tom blankly stared at you and blinked to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “What?”

“I’m saying,” you dragged out and let go of his torso to swing his arms excitedly from side to side, he squeezed your hand, “this is our last night in Prague! We’ve been looking forward to this for the longest time, do you really want to miss it? Come on, we can sleep on the plane tomorrow. Let’s be carefree for once.” Your soul was fueled with sparkling joy and you forgot about your exhaustion. “Let’s be free.”

Tom took a second to contemplate your words before a wide grin broke out on his face and he nodded eagerly, surrendering to bliss. “God, I’m obsessed with your brain sometimes.”

With your hand still in his, you pulled him with you, excitement shimmering. Crossing the Charles Bridge, the two of you slipped away and entered the night you had dreamed of.

Golden lanterns on the side of the houses marked hidden but absolutely breathtaking alleys and for the first time on this trip, it was quiet and serene. Your eyes couldn’t stop darting everywhere, taking it all in with the deepest admiration. It was like you were falling in love with the whole world.

You had a bounce to your step and Tom couldn’t contain his bubbly feelings at the sight of you. He didn’t really understand what switch of yours was suddenly flicked for your spirits to fly this high, but he didn’t need to. He missed spending time with you. Back in the States, both of your schedules were packed and barely allowed a fleeting glimpse but now, the girl of his dreams was buzzing with happiness while the streetlights highlighted her glowing face and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t treasure every moment.

The darkness made the town appear like a secret fairytale village with its colorful houses and narrow passages. Your soft chatter lingered in the warm summer air and every time a giggle left your lips Tom’s heart filled with more love for you, warming him from within. With his adoring gaze, he spun you around. Your dress flying up and you stretched your arms upward, enjoying the carefreeness with a broad smile. You felt like you were floating, feet barely touching the ground as the both of you were dancing to no music.

Drunk with happiness, both of you laughed as Tom pressed your back against a wall. With his hands caressing your hips and your foreheads pressed against each other, your heart throbbed with profound joy, something you haven’t felt in a while.

Adrenaline and happiness consumed you, so much of it that you nearly forgot to breathe but you didn’t need to as Tom’s lips were already on yours. You pushed off the wall, sealing the tiny space between you and he deepened the kiss. Your heart almost broke with joy. Pulling apart, it left you breathless again and you were certain nothing could ever wipe off the stupid grin on your faces.

Arms swinging, the two of you continued your fairytale walk and ended up at the Charles bridge again where you had started off the night. Still high on emotions, Tom pulled you with him as he swung his legs over the rim of the bridge and gestured for you to follow. You didn’t hesitate and sat next to him, legs dangling over the river. You rested your head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around your small frame as you overlooked the sight in front of you.

Your voice was delicate as you spoke, cautioning into the silence, “I really needed this. It's almost like I've been stuck at home forever.” Tom was playing with strands of your hair and you knew he was deep in thoughts.

Again, you watched the dancing streetlights reflection on the water surface but this time it didn’t bring you peace. You had your night and that was all you wanted. So why did you feel a pinch of sadness at the simple thought of heading to the hotel, settling into your bed and calling it a night. You didn’t want this night to end and you knew Tom also dreaded having to end this feeling.

So the question he asked next wasn’t a surprise to you in the slightest—it resonated with you.

“What if we move to Canada?”

He sounded hopeful. Musing about taking on the world in a different way than you both already did but he knew you two were in no position to be bold and just not give a damn. It was neither in his nor your power to be selfish. A sudden breeze left goosebumps on your exposed skin, but he dreamingly gazed at you with vulnerable eyes and you let yourself dream with him.

“We could bring Tessa,” you voiced, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “And your paintbrush and some candy,” Tom added, and awe transformed your face, eyes lighting up.

“I guess we’re lucky that we don’t need much outside of us, do we?” You chuckled softly and he shook his head with a sad smile on his face. He took your hand in his and started to play with your fingers, eyes looking heavenward. For the first time tonight, you noticed the endless stars sparkling from above.

“You know, when we film those movies...” He licked his lips and your gaze darted to his hesitant face. You weren’t sure if tears were brimming his eyes or if they reflected the deep water but they were glistening and you squeezed his hand to remind him that you were there. “...When they talk about those people in the movies who up and leave, I always think about how that could be us.”

He looked down at you, hands tightening around yours and now you were sure those were tears shimmering in his eyes. “That could be you and me.”

You didn’t answer and he didn’t need you to.

Both of you knew this wasn’t the heat of the moment talking. ‘Let’s get away from here and do our own thing’ wasn’t an option for any of you. Your thing was acting, you loved it from the bottom of your heart, and you wouldn’t be completed without that passion in your life and Tom—Tom was Spider-Man. Arguably one of the most recognizable cinematic characters in the world. Besides the fact that he couldn’t just quit, he didn’t want to either.

This was the life that you both chose. Unforgettable memories, unconditional support and overwhelming opportunities. There were also hours of press tours, draining interviews and nerve-wracking red carpets.

Your heart rate picked up at the single thought of it all but if tonight had taught you anything, it had taught you something deeply beautiful. Amid the chaos and pressure, amid the glamour and blessings, all you needed in the end was Tom by your side. He was the reason why you soared your highest heights and he was your support system when you plunged to the deepest depths. Gratitude flowed through you.

Leaning forward, you pressed a soft kiss on his cheek, letting it linger for a moment before you nuzzled your head back into the crook of his neck—brown eyes never leaving you. He returned the gesture by leaving a gentle kiss on top of your head, before resting his own on yours, pressing you closer into his body with a content sigh.

We are lucky that we don't need much outside of us.

* * *

wrote this at 5 am so it might be extra cheesy but i’m still too sleep-deprived to tell lol. i appreciate the hell out of feedback so feel free to leave me some and if you don’t, that’s okay too. thank u for reading, buh-bye! x

masterlist

[emmanuelxreyes]

Familiar Fresh Blood || Tessa & Emmanuel

Emmanuel had been meaning to check the cells more often for new blood. It had been entirely too long since he had gone in search of a new plaything. So, he made his way to the basement when he knew the slaves were locked in for curfew.

“Hmm, look at all my pretty little options...” he mused out loud to himself as he walked through the hallway. Emmanuel made a point to stop in and taunt a few of his favorites before he stopped in front of a different cell. His brow furrowed when he saw someone familiar sitting on a bunk. His eyes moved to the name outside the cell and back to her again. “Tessa, huh. Changed your name? How did you end up on that side of the bars?”

@tessa-fox​

[cursivebloodlines]

WHAT GENRE OF BOOK WERE YOU WRITTEN FOR, AND DID YOU SURVIVE TO THE END?

tagged by: @huntrcssqueen and @overnightheartbeats (thank you both, love you both <3)

tagging: whoever wants to do it because idk who's already done it and who hasn't! you, reading this! do it and say i tagged you! honestly!

DOUGLAS BLACKWOOD

Written for a romance book only for you to die in the arms of your lover

You are led by love to an extreme level. You are willing to do anything for whoever you love the most, either romantically or platonically. You don’t know how to focus on yourself, instead letting others control you. This is why you eventually die, but at least you’re still with your lover.

LYDIA COLLINS

Written for a mystery book to move the plot along, you had to survive

You enjoy thrills and the spark that they add to your life. If there weren’t those thrills then what’s the point of doing anything, right? You are a very curious person but you do know when to back off. Your problem is knowing who you are in the story. Are you the detective or the murderer? Who knows! It’s part of the mystery…

LOGAN CHADWICK

Written for an adventure book where you were killed during a battle

You live for whatever the next greatest thing may be. You don’t worry about the possible danger, instead only looking at the possibility of excitement and the great story you may be able to get out of this. You are a bit rash and don’t look before you leap, which is what ends up getting you killed in battle.

TESSA LOCKE

Written for a children’s book to live and tell a cute story

You are very sweet and very excitable. You love to explore and have fun. You also have a love of learning and somehow manage to learn a lesson each time you explore (imagine that). When you do go on one of your adventures, like in your book, you of course manage to make it home just before the sunsets in time for dinner.

AARON CARTER

Written for a mystery book specifically so you could be killed to set off the story

You are a very curious person, but not so good at remembering that “curiosity killed the cat”. You think you’re invincible at times which ends up being dangerous for yourself and sometimes others as well. You feel a bit stuck in the background, but at least your death is what started this whole story in the first place.

ZOE LANCASTER

Written for a horror book that you somehow make it to the end of

You don’t know how to rest but you really wish you could. After everything that you’ve been through in this story you want nothing more than to be able to let yourself relax. You have a good understanding of logic and tend to focus on that over your emotions. The good news is that its over. The killer isn’t chasing you anymore.

[falsegoodnight]

✰ Infernal Devices AU Snippet ✰

Teen&Up | 1k

CONTEXT: An AU based on The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare. Louis as Tessa & Harry as Will 

(very minor spoilers from first book, Clockwork Angel)

Louis sucked in a breath, fingers trembling as he tightened his grip on the jug. It felt heavy in his hands, weight increasingly reassuring as the door opened slowly with a foreboding creak. 

His vision blurred with tears as a figure stepped into the room, wrapped in shadows. Heart pounding up his throat, he lunged forward with a muted cry, channelling every ounce of strength he possessed and swinging it wildly towards the stranger. 

The figure tensed, abruptly moving out of the way but they weren’t quick enough. The jug collided with his outstretched arm before crashing to the floor and shattering into a million glass shards. 

The yell that followed was decidedly masculine but Louis didn’t wait to see if this mysterious man who had now stumbled back keeling over in pain posed just as much of a threat as Mrs. Dark. He rushed to the door which had been slammed shut through all the chaos, hands shaking as he grasped the knob and turned-

It didn’t budge. 

He pulled in vain, another onslaught of tears flooding his eyes. Panic and intense fear bubbled up in his chest as the door refused to open. Locked, it was locked again. He was trapped. 

A sudden assault of bright light seared through the room and Louis gasped, eyes fluttering shut as the glow grew brighter. Spinning around, he squinted through the blinding rays, lips parting in shock. 

There was a boy standing in front of him, not a demon, but a young man. Louis stared. The stranger couldn’t be much older than him- eighteen, maybe nineteen. He was dressed in tattered workman’s clothes: frayed black jacket, worn-out trousers, and scuffed leather boots. He wore no waistcoat and there were strange leather straps criss-crossed over his chest. Attached to the belts were weapons. Dozens of them ranging from knives, daggers, and peculiar stakes that looked to be made of ice. 

He had one hand raised, palm flattened in a sign for surrender. In his other hand, some sort of glowing stone was pulsing brightly, emitting the light that had almost blinded Louis seconds ago. 

On his opposite arm, his left sleeve was rolled up to his elbow revealing the bloody gash Louis had inflicted on him, spanning the length of his forearm before tapering at his wrist. 

His gaze lifted to the stranger’s face and suddenly, he was staring for an entirely different reason. This stranger had the face of an angel, more beautiful than the most vivid descriptions he’s read in novels. His dark curls were tangled but soft, a single curved strand falling over his forehead. Eyes like a forest, dark and intense, stared at Louis assessingly. Elegant cheekbones, a full mouth, and strong, angled features… even the curve of his throat rivaled the most lauded marble statues. He looked like every hero Louis had ever read about or conjured in his head, like every charming protagonist or enchanting love interest fused into one. 

But then he narrowed his eyes, lips flattening into a line as he raised his injured arm. “You cut me,” he said, tone incredulous. His voice was pleasant, slow and deep. He’s British, Louis muses, his accent very ordinary. The stranger arched an eyebrow, glancing at his arm with a frown. “It could be fatal.”

Louis stared at him with wide eyes, taking a step back hesitantly and wiping helplessly at his wet cheeks. “Are you… the Magister?” His voice dipped lower at the end, uncertainty lacing his words. 

The boy made no sign of having heard him, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully. He flexes his arm, crimson blood dripping from skin and splattering across the white floors. “Dear me, this is quite the cut. Massive blood loss, death could be imminent.” He spoke leisurely, almost nonchalant at the prospect. 

“Are you the Magister?” Louis repeated, confusion twisting his stomach.

“Magister?” the boy parroted, looking surprised at the question. He furrowed his brows, face pensive. “That means ‘Master’ in Latin, doesn’t it?”

Louis blinked, the unexpected question registering in his mind slowly. “It...” he trailed off, an urge to pinch his arm and confirm that this wasn’t an odd dream growing within him. “I suppose it does,” he answered, utterly bewildered. 

“I’ve mastered quite a number of talents in my life,” the boy continued, studying his arm with an expression of mild displeasure on his face. “Navigating the streets of London, dancing the quadrille and waltz, cheating at Charades, concealing a highly intoxicated state, delighting young women-” He paused, running his eyes appreciatively over Louis’ body and licking his lips, “and young men- with my charms.” 

Louis gaped at him, unable to suppress the flush spreading up his cheeks due to the bold statement. 

“Alas,” the boy went on wistfully, “no one has ever actually so willingly referred to me as ‘the master’ or ‘the magister’ either... Not without me demanding it first.” He shrugged, expression roguish. “More’s the pity.” 

“Are you concealing a highly intoxicated state at the moment?” Louis blurted abruptly. He had intended it to be a serious question, but realized now that the words have slipped from his lips that it may have been interpreted to be awfully rude- or worse, flirtatious. The boy looked too steady on his feet to be drunk anyway, words too pronounced and deliberate rather than slurred or messy. 

“How very direct, but I suppose it must be an American thing,” the boy muses, looking entertained at Louis’ lack of propriety. “Yes, your accent gives you away. What’s your name?” 

Louis gawked at him in disbelief, fingers curling into his sleeves. “What’s my name?”

“S’what I said, isn’t it?” the boy says amusedly, “Don’t you know it?”

“You-” Louis shakes his head, feeling hysterical as he continues, “You’ve barged into my room and scared me half to death and now you’re demanding to know my name? What on earth is your name? Who are you?” 

“My name’s Harry Styles,” the boy replied easily, unbothered by Louis’ glare. He looked around casually, taking in their barren surroundings with curious eyes. “This is your room? Not very nice, is it?” he drawls, wandering over to the small window before pausing to examine the small stack of books on Louis’ bedside table. His eyes flicker over to the bed, brows arching again. He glances at Louis, waving a hand at the ropes as his lips curl up into a smirk. “Do you particularly enjoy being tied up?” 

-

coming soon to falsegoodnight

[overnightheartbeats]

☎️ - diego <3

Send ☎️ And I Will Tell You // @cursivebloodlines

What My Muse Has For Your Muse's Contact Info: Tessa Locke (tessa sweetie, i'm so sorry..he is literally the driest man. Well, yes and no. He keeps all his contacts with simple first and last name because he uses his cellphone for work a lot, and idk he's paranoid his phone will fall into 'the wrong hands'). Maybe at some point, he added a smile to the contact. Tessa Locke :)

What Their Ringtone Is: He's also the type to just have the default ringtone for everyone, but he updated Tessa's to the 'sci-fi' ringtone that plays the eerie music. It always makes him smile because he knows that when he hears that sound, it can't be anyone else but her!!

The Last Text They Sent Your Muse: "so you heard they confirmed aliens are real or something? Old news though!! I'm sure if they would've spotted you, they would've confirmed that much earlier. Maybe I should've called in a while ago with an anonymous tip. Also, are you busy today? I'm taking the next week off, so I'm all yours little alien."

What Image My Muse Has For Your Muse In Their Phone: again...no decisiveness in sight. He loves both of these pictures because happiness is just radiating from her, and seeing these just makes his heart leap. Diego definitely took that 2nd picture on an uber home from a late movie or staying out too late at a bar.

[thechangeling]

When no one's watching: A Kitty fanfic

Ok I wrote this all in one go at 4am so this might be terrible but oh well.

Set somewhere between TDA and TWP.

Ty couldn't breathe.

Well technically that wasn't true otherwise he would have passed out by now but he definitely wasn't getting much oxygen. He could hear the buzzing of the light fixtures overhead, drilling into his skull. His heartbeat was echoing in his ears, his fingers moving rapidly at his sides.

And Kit Herondale was lying on a cot in front of him, covered in bruises, his gear torn and bloody.

Kit.

Oh god Kit.

When Ty had gotten Tessa Gray's fire message, at first Ty hadn't known what to think. But deep down he knew that there could only be one reason she was contacting him, so he frantically ripped the letter open.

Tiberius,

Kit's been injured quite badly. I don't know what's going to happen. Caterina and I are doing everything I can but I know he would want you here.

Please come.

Tessa Gray.

Ty had never in his life been more grateful for the fact that he had Magnus Bane on speed dial.

When he finally arrived at the Carstairs household, it seemed that the worst of it was already over, but that didn't stop the paralyzing ice-cold feeling from creeping inside his veins.

And in those first few horrific moments when Kit wasn't breathing. Ty held his breath along with him.

If he doesn't breathe then I won't breathe.

If his heart doesn't beat then neither will mine.

And if he dies...

Distantly Ty could hear the voices of Caterina Loss and Tessa Gray as well as several others as they hurried around the room. They had almost completely healed Kit's injuries and his vitals were stable, but he still wouldn't wake up. He looked over at Jem, standing at Kit's bedside. He looked obviously heartbroken, but was still holding himself together surprisingly well given the circumstances.

Ty on the other hand.

Ty suddenly felt his stomach lerch as he fell forward, losing his balence. Tessa looked reluctant to leave Kit, but Caterina rushed over to him, muttering something under her breath.

Ty jumped to his feet before she could reach him. "Its fine" he managed shakely, his own voice sounded foreign to him. "I'm ok."

There was a moment of stillness where no one moved or spoke. Tessa was sitting on the foot of Kit's cot, tears running down her cheeks. Ty wondered offhand if he was supposed to be crying.

He looked around the room at the various expressions of anguish, fear, despair and heart break. Ty couldn't feel any of it. All he felt was numb.

Why couldn't he feel anything? This was Kit! Ty knew exactly how he felt about him even if he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud, and still all he could do was stand and stare blankly ahead.

It was like some sort of switch had been turned off inside of him and Ty wanted to scream.

"Please" he whispered faintly under his breath, not exactly sure who he was taking to. Ty slowly walked towards Kit, taking in his ragged appearance. His gear was torn and his beautiful blond curls were matted with blood.

Ty once again found himself struggling to breathe. "Please" he whispered for the second time. Tears were beginning to well up in his eyes, but Ty found he hardly noticed it.

Tessa's voice broke him out of his stupor.

"Would you like to be alone with him for a little bit Ty?" she asked kindly.

Ty rose his gaze from Kit. Everyone was staring at him expectantly. Perhaps under normal circumstances he would have lied, but these people had already seen him vulnerable. There was no point in putting on a facade.

Ty looked back at Kit's motionless form, forced himself to breathe, and then nodded.

Tessa, Jem and Caterina all exchanged looks, then slowly began to vacate the room. "I should check on Mina" Tessa mentioned offhandedly as she pulled herself up off the cot.

Ty forced himself not to think of Kit's little sister as he watched his slow breathing.

In and out. In and out.

It's going to be ok.

Ty waited until after everyone had left before carefully climbing onto the cot and seating himself beside Kit. Ty gently reached out and placed his hand above Kit's heart, feeling the soft but steady rhythm.

Only then did Ty finally let out a sob.

"Please Kit" he choaked out, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Please Kit. Come back to me. I need you" Ty pleaded, using his left hand to weave his fingers through Kit's hair.

With his right hand he traced back up from Kit's chest to his face, tracing the plains of his angelic face. Ty's breath was coming out in choaked sobs.

"I need you to wake up now Kit. I'm sorry I know it's hard but I need you to come back to us. To me." he pleaded. Ty had no idea if Kit could actually hear him but at this point he really didn't care.

Ty leaned forward touching his forehead to Kit's, relishing in the contact. He could finally feel what had been locked away before. It was all rushing in like floodgates were being opened inside of him.

Many conflicting emotions. Pain, fear, anger, sorrow. But ultimately and overwhelmingly, love.

Love.

Ty hesitated for only a moment before pressing his lips to Kit's forehead. He didnt feel right about kissing him on the lips while he was unable to give consent. He placed another kiss on Kit's cheek before leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"I need you to wake up so I can tell you how much I love you."

Kit remained unconcious as Ty suspected he would. Ty tried not to let himself become too overwhelmed. Kit would wake up eventually. Ty laid back onto the cot with a sigh, rearranging himself slightly so that he was resting his head against Kit's chest.

Ty blinked and let a fresh batch of tears fall from his eyes. Now that he was finally being honest with himself it felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Ty gently played with the fabric of Kit's shirt and smiled softly to himself.

"I want to tell you about how beautiful your eyes are" he mused. "And how I felt so safe and at peace the first time I stared into them. I love the sound of your laugh and the way you care so much about what I have to say." "I love how you came out of nowhere and no one saw you coming, or predicted how interesting you would turn out to be." Ty laughed through his tears.

"You are the greatest mystery I have ever had the pleasure of trying to solve." Ty was well aware of the fact that his voice was breaking. He was also well aware of the fact that he was technically conversing with an unconscious person and that was more or less a little unusual.

However, Ty was far past caring. "Kit you're my home" he whispered, nuzzling his face into Kit's neck. " And I just want you back" he finished, exhaustion seeping into his voice.

Ty was finally feeling the effects of intense emotional rollercoasters in the time span of a few hours. Plus he hadn't been sleeping very well lately which was something that Livvy had been nagging him about. Although thankfully she had the good sense to give Ty some space as soon as he got the fire message.

Ty quickly moved his head to rest on Kit's chest again to make sure he was still breathing. Satisfied, Ty finally let his eyes drift shut, fatigue seeping into every part of his being. Kit was going to be alright, he assured himself. He could let himself relax.

And with that thought, Ty allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by the sound of Kit's steady beating heart.

[zoroshonkingbazonkadonkas]

If you weren’t cussing at this scene, are you even a human?

 “I thought perhaps . . .” At last Will turned to look directly at her. Tessa was shocked at the expression on his face. The shadows under his eyes were so dark, they looked hollow. She stood and stared at him, willing him to say what the hero in a book would say now, at this moment. Tessa, my feelings for you have grown beyond mere feelings of friendship. They are so much more rare and precious than that. . . . “Come here,” he said instead. There was nothing welcoming in his voice, or in the way he stood. Tessa fought back her instinct to shy away, and moved toward him, close enough for him to touch her. He reached out his hands and touched her hair lightly, brushing back the stray curls around her face. “Tess.” She looked up at him. His eyes were the same color as the smoke-stained sky; even bruised, his face was beautiful. She wanted to be touching him, wanted it in some inchoate, instinctive way she could neither explain nor control. When he bent to kiss her, it was all she could do to hold herself back until his lips met hers. His mouth brushed hers and she tasted salt on him, the tang of bruised and tender skin where his lip was cut. He took her by the shoulders and pulled her closer to him, his fingers knotting in the fabric of her dress. Even more than in the attic, she felt caught in the eddy of a powerful wave that threatened to pull her over and under, to crush and break her, to wear her down to softness as the sea might wear down a piece of glass. She reached to lay her hands on his shoulders, and he drew back, looking down at her, breathing very hard. His eyes were bright, his lips red and swollen now from kissing as well as injuries. “Perhaps,” he said, “we should discuss our arrangements, then.” Tessa, still feeling as if she were drowning, whispered, “Arrangements?” “If you are going to be staying,” he said, “it would be to our advantage to be discreet. It might perhaps be better to use your room. Jem tends to come in and out of mine as if he lives in the place, and he might be puzzled to find the door locked. Your quarters, on the other hand—” “Use my room?” she echoed. “Use it for what?” Will’s mouth quirked up at the corner; Tessa, who had been thinking about how beautifully shaped his lips were, took a moment to realize with a sense of distant surprise that the smile was a very cold one. “You cannot pretend you don’t know. . . . You are not entirely ignorant of the world, I think, Tessa. Not with that brother of yours.” “Will.” The warmth was going out of Tessa like the sea drawing back from the land; she felt cold, despite the summer air. “I am not like my brother.” “You care for me,” Will said. His voice was cool and sure. “And you know that I admire you, the way that all women know when a man admires them. Now you have come to tell me you will be here, available to me, for as long as I might wish it. I am offering you what I thought you wanted.” “You cannot mean that.” “And you cannot have imagined I meant anything more,” Will said. “There is no future for a Shadowhunter who dallies with warlocks. One might befriend them, employ them, but not . . .” “Marry them?” Tessa said. There was a clear picture in her head of the sea. It had drawn back entirely from the shore, and she could see the small creatures it had left gasping in its wake, flapping and dying on the bare sand. “How forward.” Will smirked; she wanted to slap the expression off his face. “What did you really expect, Tessa?” “I did not expect you to insult me.” Tessa’s voice threatened to shake; somehow, she kept it firm. “It cannot be the unwanted consequences of a dalliance that concern you,” Will mused. “Since warlocks are unable to have children—” “What?” Tessa stepped back as if he had pushed her. The ground felt unsteady under her feet. Will looked at her. The sun was nearly completely gone from the sky. In the near darkness the bones of his face looked prominent and the lines at the corners of his mouth were as harsh as if he were racked by physical pain. But his voice when he spoke was even. “You didn’t know that? I thought someone would have told you.” “No,” Tessa said softly. “No one told me.”  “His gaze was steady. “If you are not interested in my offer...” “Stop,” she said. This moment, she thought, was like the edge of a broken bit of glass, clear and sharp and painful. “Jem says you lie to make yourself look bad,” she said. “And perhaps that is true, or perhaps he simply wishes to believe that about you. But there is no reason or excuse for cruelty like this.” For a moment he looked actually unnerved, as if she had truly startled him. The expression was gone in an instant, like the shifting shape of a cloud. “Then there is nothing more for me to say, is there?” Without another word she spun on her heel and walked away from him, toward the steps that led back down into the Institute. She did not turn to see him looking after her, a still black silhouette against the last embers of the burning sky.