* 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 / 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒.

𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐦.

[brighteds]

#BRIGHTEDS                   private,   multi - muse   penned   by   m, she/her, twenty8.       mature + potentially triggering content will be mentioned on this blog. i will not write smut unless i feel it actually adds to the plot, so please keep that in mind.

rules    ›    muses    ›    wishlist    ›    open starters.

[cardigaen]

emma  had  hoped  that  it  was  just  a  phase,    her  brothers  obnoxious  need  to  fill  their  apartment  to  the  brim  with  smoke  and  strangers  like  she  didn’t  pay  half  of the  rent.    instead,    it  seemed  as  if  they  parties  were  getting  larger    –    more  people,    more  alcohol,    more  noise  violations.    she  could  feel  luca's  energy  from  across  the  room,    like  she  was  tethered  to  him  by  some  invisible  string,    feeling  it  wrap  tighter  around  her  as  he  approached    –    thankfully  reserving  the  spot  next  to  her  on  the  couch.    if  she  had  to  speak  to  one  more  fraternity  bro,    she  was  barricading  her  bedroom  door  for  the  rest  of  the  night.    eyes  remained  trained  on  the  jungle  juice  in  her  hand,    swirling  it  with  a metal  straw.    there  was  a  slight  buzz  in  her  head  from  the  alcohol,    nothing  crazy,    just  enough  to  hopefully  get  her  through  the  night without a panic attack.    ❛  he  never  ceases  to  amaze  me.  ❜    she  laughs,    finally  turning  to  face  him    –    stomach  fluttering  right  on  cue.    ❛  i  doubt  he  knows  the  name  of  seventy  five  percent  of  the  people  in here.  ❜

[brighteds]

the  corner  of  luca's  mouth  quirked,  fleeting  reaction  to  her  words.  he  let  his  gaze  drift  over  the  room  again,  taking  in  the  shifting  waves  of  bodies.  the  clatter  of  half-shouted  conversations.  the  house  felt  like  a  living  thing,  breathing  in  strangers  and  exhaling  a  haze  of  sweat  and  cigarette  smoke.  " probably  less, "  he  murmured,  amusement  threading  through  his  voice,  though  it  was  quiet  enough  to  get  lost  beneath  the  bass  vibrating  through  the  walls.  his  fingers  tapped  idly  against  the  seam  of  his  jeans,  restless  but  controlled.  this  wasn't  his  scene,  sure,  but  the  couch,  the  dim  lighting,  the  company...  ?  yeah,  he  could  deal  with  that.  didn't  mind  it  at  all,  in  fact.  he  leaned  back  against  the  couch,  sinking  into  it  like  he  belonged  there,  like  maybe  he  had  nowhere  else  to  be.  " what  are  you  doing  here  anyway ?  it's  a  friday  night.  shouldn't  you  be  out  with  some  friends  or  something ? "   he  knew  his  words  might  come  off  as  indifference,  and  maybe  that  was  the  point.  easier  to  let  her  think  he  didn't  care  whether  she  was  here  or  not  than  to  admit  the  truth.  that  the  night  felt  a  little  less  hollow  with  her  here.  that  the  noise,  the  crowd,  all  of  it  faded  just  enough  when  she  was  near.

[brighteds]

♯ closed starter  |  @cardigaen.

the  house  buzzed  with  the  kind  of  energy  luca  had  spent  majority  of  his  life  trying  to  avoid.  the  thrum  of  basslines,  the  murmur  of  overlapping  voices,  and  the  occasional  burst  of  laughter  somewhere  down  the  hall.  he  wasn't  attending  the  party,  though, really.  just  surviving  it.  wasn't  entirely sure  what  he  was  waiting  for.  maybe  the  moment  when  the  music  quieted,  the  crowd  thinned,  and  the  house  settled  back  into  its  natural  state  of  stillness.  then, the  quiet  corner  of  the  living  room  called  to  him  like  a  sanctuary.  and  there  she  was,  already  sat  on  the  couch,  a  fixed  point  of  calm  in  the  chaos.  he  hesitated  for  only  a  moment  before  sitting  beside  her,  leaving  a  polite  gap  between  them  but  not  so  much  that  it  felt  distant.  her brother's laugh  cut  through  the  air  like  a  burst  of  static,  loud  and  familiar.  he  glanced  in  that  direction,  catching  sight  of  him  surrounded  by  friends,  drink  in  hand,  his  energy  pulling  people  in  like  gravity.  good.  let  him  stay  busy.  it  was  easier  this  way,  gave  luca  time  to  talk  to  her  without  worrying  too  much  about  drawing  attention.  " your  brother's  really  outdone  himself. "

[lastflowcrs]

couldn't help the minuscule upturn at the corner of her mouth — it would've gone unnoticed by most. jude had baited her hook and thrown a desperate line out, convincing herself it was futile in the meantime. but here she was, about to reel in a shark. " my best friend, " she answered, simper becoming progressively more difficult to mask. fingers haphazardly grip the arm of the couch, nails digging into the stained, fraying fabric, as if the well-used piece of furniture was the only thing tethering her to this moment and keeping her stable. " she'd do like, anything for me, so. " only half true, seeing as how the other girl was solely responsible for jude's stint at rehab in the first place. it wasn't just unlikely that she'd run her drugs — it was impossible. but he didn't need to know that. " i wouldn't call it a favor. maybe i'm just a nice girl. maybe i'm too nervous to do it alone, in case — " cue a forward flash that played in her head like a movie : her scrawny frame trembling violently as she sputtered and struggled, the male coming to her aid, cradling her in his strong arms as he yelled for a staff member to get help. but jude immediately began poking holes in her own deranged fantasy, wondering, would he even care ? would he just let her die ? would she haunt him afterward, both in mind and in spirit ? how painfully romantic. " are you down or not ? " finally, she looked at him again, dark gaze intense.

[brighteds]

he  let  the  silence  stretch,  oppressive  and  heavy.  it  pressed  down  on  the  space  between  them,  the  kind  of  quiet  that  felt  intentional,  almost  cruel.  the  cigarette  dangled  between  his  fingers  still,  forgotten  for  the  moment,  as  his  gaze  fixed  on  a  spot  just  beyond  her  shoulder.  it  wasn't  indifference;  it  was  a  calculated  dismissal,  a  refusal  to  acknowledge  her  in  any  way  that  might  validate  her  presence.  he  could sure  feel  her  presence,  though,  the  way  her  energy  clawed  at  his  carefully  maintained  bubble  of  detachment.  she  was  too  close,  her  knee  brushing  his  with  an  intent  he  couldn't  ignore,  her  gaze  heavy  and  probing,  searching  for  something  in  him  he  refused  to  give.  he  hated  the  way  she  lingered,  her  proximity  like  an  itch  he  couldn't  scratch.  but  he  didn't  move,  didn't  flinch,  didn't  give  her  anything  to  hold  onto.  his  fingers  toyed  with  the  cigarette,  rolling  it  between  them  with  a  thoughtless  precision,  a  motion  born  of  habit.  he  could  sense  the  wheels  turning  in  her  head,  her  desperate  need  for  validation,  for  recognition.  it  was  all  too  familiar.  the  faint  curl  of  his  lips  hinted  at  something;  disdain,  amusement,  or  maybe  just  the  bitter  satisfaction  of  knowing  how  little  of  this  mattered  to  him.  " here's  the  thing,  kid, "   he  said,  his  voice  dropping  even  lower,  a  near-growl  that  seemed  to  vibrate  in  the  small,  sterile  room,  " i'm  tired.  i  am  an  old  man,  you  see.  so,  how  about  you  go  and  fetch  my  candy  yourself  and  then  maybe  afterwards  we  can  skip  and  hold  hands. "   sid  pushed  himself  to  his  feet  in  one  fluid  motion,  his  movements  unhurried  but  deliberate.  and  for  a  moment,  he  stood  there,  towering  over  her,  his  gaze  fixed  somewhere  just  beyond  her  shoulder,  as  though  she  were  nothing  more  than  another  piece  of  furniture  in  the  room.

[lastflowcrs]

overwhelming shame plunged through taylor's sternum like a carving knife. he didn't know what to do with it — had never encountered this particular brand of anguish in the nearly 10 years that he'd worked alongside his father. not even the first time. taylor's subconscious was expert at blacking out the details of each individual kill, every death was a classified document stowed away in the deepest confines of his mind. he lived in fear of remembering them even more than he feared his father. but his reactions had never been this visceral, this chronic. " go on, " he prompted further insults, bathing in the girl's well-deserved resentment. her opposition made it easier to disconnect, to soothe his pain like a wild animal licking its' own self-inflicted wounds. sticking closely to the wall, he repositioned himself in front of her again, standing just close enough that she could undoubtedly reach him if she mustered the courage to extend her bruised arms out — willed her to do it even, in his head. to wrap her bloodied fingers around his throat and squeeze. taylor could almost picture it : the rage coursing from her body into his as he stared deep into the sky that was her eyes and just let himself go. " death would be easier than whatever he has in mind. " he meant his own. tone was calm but not as apathetic as before. there was nothing he could say that would comfort her, but he wanted so badly to listen to her voice, so he chose to pry. " is your dad really not going to pay to get you back ? why wouldn't he ? " he thought to himself, surely she was someone's whole world. unbeknownst to either of them, she would soon become his.

[brighteds]

max's  body  ached,  her  skin  still  humming  with  the  memory  of  hands  that  had  stripped  away  any  illusion  of  humanity.  but  now  he  was  standing  there  again,  close  enough  that  she  could  reach  him  if  she  wanted  —-  if  she  dared.  she  could  almost  feel  his  quiet  desperation  pressing  against  her,  his  eyes  fixed  on  her  as  if  looking  for  something  he  didn't  have  a  right  to  ask  for.  he  stood  before  her  like  a  penance,  offering  himself  to  her  anger,  as  if  her  hatred  might  somehow  absolve  him.  his  words  hung  in  the  stale  air,  thick  with  an  anguish  he  barely  masked.  his  tone,  low  and  uneven,  almost  sounded  like  he  meant  it,  like  he  craved  an  escape  as  much  as  she  did.  and  then,  almost  timidly,  he  pried,  that  question  slipping  from  his  lips  with  a  gentleness  she  hadn't  expected.  the  words  twisted  like  a  knife  in  her  chest,  each  syllable  scraping  against  an  old,  raw  wound  she'd  tried  for  years  to  bury.  she  clenched  her  jaw,  forcing  down  the  swell  of  bitter  laughter  that  threatened  to  rise.  her  lips  parted,  the  words  slipping  out  before  she  could  stop  them,  sharp  and  unforgiving.   " why  wouldn't  he ? "   she  repeated,  the  bitter  edge  of  disbelief  lacing  her  voice.  " don't  tell  me  you've  been  lucky  enough  not  to  know  the  feeling  of  parents  who  wouldn't  lift  a  finger,  let  alone  spend  a  fortune.  the  feeling  of  being  an  inconvenience  to  them.  i'm  just  a  loose  end  to  him.  a  fuckin' ghost  he  only  remembers  when  he  needs  a  face  for  the  public. "   she  could  feel  her  voice  tightening,  like  a  wire  stretched  too  thin,  her  gaze  fixed  somewhere  beyond  him,  as  though  looking  at  him  would  be  too  much.  " he  won't  pay.  i  know  it,  and  soon  enough,  so  will  you.  he'll  just  turn  his  back  like  he  always  does. "   she  forced  herself  to  look  at  him,  her  eyes  meeting  his  with  a  steadiness  that  belied  the  hollow  ache  in  her  chest.  she  wanted  him  to  see  it  —-  to  understand  the  depth  of  her  abandonment,  to  feel  just  an  ounce  of  the  weight  she  carried,  the  truth  that  shaped  her  every  breath.  for  a  moment,  she  considered  what  he'd  offered  her,  his  silent  plea  for  her  rage,  her  hate.  and  it  burned  through  her,  her  hands  curling  instinctively  as  she  imagined  wrapping  them  around  his  throat,  letting  her  anger  surge  through  her  fingers  and  into  him.  the  thought  was  intoxicating,  a  way  to  channel  every  unshed  tear,  every  swallowed  scream.  but  instead,  she  let  the  fury  settle  into  her  bones,  hardening  into  resolve.  " this  pathetic  life  you  live,  the  things  you've  done  —-  do  you  really  think  they're  enough  to  turn  off  the  part  of  you  that  still  feels ? "

[lastflowcrs]

there was a palpable switch that felt more sudden than it actually was — jude's life experience, as limited as it was, should've at least prepared her for the sting of a man's — any man's — rejection. should've reminded her of her father's disapproval and the consequent exile of not playing by a man's — any man's — rules. but it didn't. instead, she took it personally, turning her body away as if to shield herself from further damage. she licked her bottom lip, could still taste the rolling paper, the half-stale tobacco. after a beat, she muttered, " i'm not a teenager. " the words falling out of her mouth were just as stale. no doubt she would cry about this tonight before falling asleep, replaying their interaction over and over in her head like some kind of masochistic blooper real. wet eyes peered desperately around the room for some kind of distraction, gracing over painfully white walls, infantilizing suicide prevention posters about choosing life, a flyer advertising the upcoming visitor's day that the facility held every friday afternoon. her best friend, lennon, was supposed to come. it was at that moment that jude was struck with a horrible idea. " actually, " the brunette begins, speaking out of the side of her mouth, avoiding looking directly at the male next to her despite how she ached to, " i came to talk to you because i have something i thought you might be interested in. " a LIE. " someone's sneaking in some blow for me on friday, during visiting. i'm trying to share. "

[brighteds]

sid  didn't  move,  didn't  even  glance  her  way  as  she  turned  from  him,  curling  into  herself  like  he'd  struck  a  nerve.  good,  he  thought,  though  the  satisfaction  he'd  expected  from  pushing  her  back  fell  flat,  leaving  an  odd,  hollow  feeling  in  its  wake.  took  another  drag  from  his  reclaimed  cigarette,  exhaling  smoke  that  swirled  lazily  in  the  sterile  air,  casting  an  indifferent  gaze  across  the  room  as  she  spoke  again.  his  attention  snapped  back  then,  his  eyes  narrowing  just  slightly.  had  to  be  a   lie,  and  yet,  the  way  she  dangled  it  there,  that  thin  bait  of  rebellion,  had  his  attention  more  than  he'd  let  her  know.  sid's  fingers  stilled  on  the  cigarette,  his  indifferent  cracking  just  slightly  as  her  words  hung  in  the  air  between  them.  he  studied  her,  letting  the  silence  stretch  as  something  darker  and  hungrier  stirred  within  him.  it  was  a  quiet,  desperate  edge  that  he  tried  to  bury  beneath  his  steady,  unreadable  stare.  but  the  promise  of  something  real  —-  a  hit,  a  moment  of  escape   —-  was  like  a  spark  against  dry  wood,  catching  before  he  could  snuff  it  out.  " yeah ? "  his  voice  was  softer,  carrying  an  undercurrent  of  something  close  to  yearning,  but  masked  in  his  usual  cool.  he  leaned  in,  just  enough  that  his  gaze  felt  heavier,  more  focused.  " so,  what  —-  you're  trying  to  do  me  a  favor ? "   he  asked,  the  words  threaded  with  mockery  but  softened  by  that  glint  of  desperation  that  he  couldn't  quite  disguise.  " who's  this  someone, hm ? "

[lastflowcrs]

" one more thing, " russell spoke with an underlying approval that made taylor's stomach churn. oh how he CRAVED that low-level praise and had his entire life. how he'd searched for it from strangers during his formative years, only to reconcile with his father as an adult and learn to work for it. the older male pulled out a polaroid camera from his back pocket, silently communicating another set of orders that his son was well acquainted with at this point. this was the signature mark of his father's evil — dozens of pictures had been collected over the years — one for each individual whose cries had ever been contained by this basement, all posed uniformly, degradingly. each unique in their circumstances, but victims all the same. " assume the fucking position. "

there was no way around it, not a shred of protest could be made at the risk of losing the ounce of respect held for him by his only parent. taylor's eyes BURNED, desperate to release the tears that he wouldn't, couldn't, allow to form. harsh invasion of the girl's personal space required him to completely disconnect, expression void of emotion, of life, as his heavy hands raked up the sides of her arms and yanked her back against his chest. she would undoubtedly be able to feel his thudding heart threatening to break his ribs — wished it would, so he didn't have to continue. elbows held her shoulders taut like a workshop vice. and with a deep breath, taylor crammed both middle fingers into the corners of her mouth, hooking the inside of her cheeks like a fish on an angle and pulling them into a frightening semblance of a smile.

even more ominous was the real grin on russell's face as he lifted the camera and took a photo. the sudden flash was like a reset for taylor's conscience, and he recoiled, releasing the girl and stumbling backwards as if it'd been himself who was violated. " perfect. " his father mused, shaking the prized polaroid picture. " i've got big plans for you, missy. " he spoke to the snapshot instead of the girl, humming to himself as he began the ascent back up the stairs, door shutting behind him.

" i'm so sorry, " taylor choked out once they were alone, knowing damn well that if his father heard him apologize, he'd be reaping the consequences for weeks. it was the first time he allowed himself to look her in the eye, to offer any acknowledgment that she was in fact, a real, living person, that he'd just aided in traumatizing.

[brighteds]

her  body  seized  as  his  hand  clamped  around  her  arms,  his  touch  as  cold  as  it  was  distant,  each  point  of  contact  a  brutal  reminder  of  her  helplessness.  she  wanted  to  scream,  to  pull  away,  but  her  muscles  were  frozen,  locking  her  beneath  his  grip.  his  heartbeat  drummed  into  her  back,  relentless,  and  it  might  have  almost  been  human,  almost  comforting  if  not  for  the  horror  entwined  with  each  pulse.  every  nerve  in  her  body  screamed  to  flinch,  to  recoil,  but  she  stayed  still,  trapped  in  a  silence  that  thickened  the  air  around  her.  then  his  fingers  found  the  corner  of  her  mouth,  forcing  her  face  into  a  cruel  parody  of  joy.  her  chapped  lips  stretched  painfully,  her  cheeks  taut,  yet  she  swallowed  the  burning  humiliation,  refusing  to  react,  to  give  them  anything  they  wanted.  the  camera  flash  cut  through  the  darkness,  blinding  and  final,  searing  the  shame  into  her  skin.  she  felt  hollow,  cracked,  every  inch  of  her  bearing  the  weight  of  that  flash,  the  weight  of  a  moment  stolen  and  twisted.  and  then,  just  as  suddenly,  he  let  her  go.  the  taste  of  metal  thick  in  her  mouth  as  she  bit  back  everything  rising  in  her  throat.  she  wanted  to  scream,  to  shatter  the  silence  with  her  rage,  but  instead,  she  stayed  still,  rooted  to  the  floor,  feeling  each  ache,  each  sting.  kept  her  eyes  down,  too  humiliated  to  meet  his  gaze.  her  throat  tightened,  the  bitter  taste  of  irony  curling  at  the  edges  of  her  mouth.  part  of  her  wanted  to  scream  at  him,  to  let  her  anger  spill  out  and  cut  through  that  sorrow  with  a  razor's  edge.  but  she  felt  something  else  rising  to  the  surface,  an  ache  that  made  the  anger  feel  small,  almost  useless.  what  did  his  apology  even  mean ?  did  he  expect  forgiveness,  a  balm  for  his  own  wounds ?  her  eyes,  still  burning,  finally  lifted,  locking  onto  his.  " you  can't  be  serious. "   she  wanted  to  look  away,  to  turn  her  back  on  him,  but  she  couldn't.  instead  max  held  his  gaze,  letting  him  see  the  ruin  he'd  helped  create,  every  bruise  and  ache  he  was  now  part  of.   " why  don't  you  do  something  then ?  you're  that  desperate  for  your  dad's  approval  you're  willing  to  let  me  die  for  it ? "  held  his  gaze  for  a  moment  longer,  letting  the  weight  of  her  words  settle  in.  but  as  the  silence  stretched,  her  expression  hardened,  the  lingering  threads  of  sympathy  into  something  colder.  she  looked  away,  breaking  eye  contact  with  a  sharpness  that  mirrored  the  bitterness  welling  up  inside  her.  a  hollow  laugh  escaped  her,  more  scoff  than  anything,  as  she  shook  her  head,  barely  managing  to  bite  back  the  rage  simmering  beneath  her  skin.  " pathetic, "  she  muttered  under  her  breath,  the  word  dripping  with  contempt,  meant  more  for  herself  but  cutting  him  all  the  same.  the  apology,  the  guilt,  the  half-hearted  remorse  —-  it  all  seemed  so  small,  so  meaningless  in  the  face  of  everything  he'd  just  done,  everything  she  was  still  and  yet  to  endure.

[lastflowcrs]

her laughter, despite its frenzied and hysterical basis, was perhaps the most enlightening thing about the girl that taylor had learned so far. for a split second, he wondered what she sounded like when that laughter was created by genuine amusement. he would never know.

" did i say you could speak ? " russell's cruelty boomed with a gravity that swallowed her laughter whole. it was followed by a familiar smack as the older male struck her across the face with the back of his hand, and taylor thinks, it could've been worse. however, his instinctive recoil was noticeable to his father. " do you feel sorry for her ? " there's disbelief in his voice as he takes a step towards his son. " you think she'd feel sorry for your ass ? she'd scratch your eyes out like a god damn animal if it meant she could get away, boy. tell me you aren't that fuckin' stupid. " taylor couldn't respond, gaze settling on the ground. " in fact, " his father chortled, " untie her. right now. "

" why would i— "

" i said fucking untie her, son ! be a man. " he shoved the handle of a hunting knife into taylor's palm with enough blunt force to be painful. in that moment, the younger man knew he had no choice but to not only listen to his father, but mirror his depravity. he approached the girl, fully exposing his face to her for the first time, but refusing to take in the sight of her now swollen, pink cheek. instead, taylor decided to circle behind her, gripping both of her forearms in one hand and lifting her to her feet. the chain buckling her to the floor clanged and pulled tight, rendering her unable to venture from her place even as he cut the coarse rope wrapped around her wrists.

[brighteds]

max's  head  snapped  to  the  side  from  the  force  of  the  slap,  her  cheek  burning,  her  vision  momentarily  blurring  as  the  sting  radiated  across  her  face.  it  hurt.  not  just  the  physical  pain,  but  the  way  it  stripped  away  any  last  illusion  of  control   she  might  have  had.  she  could  feel  her  pulse  thudding  against  the  swelling  skin  of  her  cheek,  but  she  forced  herself  to  steady  her  breathing,  to  keep  the  fear  at  bay.  then,  she  heard  it.  son.  his  voice  was  thick  with  authority  and  a  twisted  pride  that  made  her  stomach  turn.  her  blood  ran  cold.  son.  this  wasn't  just  some  stranger  standing  in  the  shadows,  silently  obeying  orders.  this  was  his  son.  the  pieces  clicked  into  place  with  a  horrifying  clarity,  and  her  eyes  widened,  darting  between  the  two  of  them.  it  made  sense  now.  the  way  the  boy  recoiled  under  his  father's  harsh  commands,  the  way  he  seemed  trapped  in  his  own  skin,  forced  into  complicity.  had  seen  it  her  whole  life  in  her  brother.  this  wasn't  his  cruelty.  it  was  his  father's.  the  twisted  power  dynamic  that  played  out  in  front  of  her  suddenly  felt  even  more  suffocating.  his  eyes,  though  avoiding  hers,  held  something  fragile,  as  if  his  father's  commands  had  bent  him,  but  not  broken  him.  not  yet.  the  cruelty  didn't  belong  to  him.  it  was  borrowed,  a  mask  he  hadn't  fully  learned  to  wear.  max's  heart  pounded  in  her  chest,  each  beat  a  desperate   plea.  couldn't  speak,  not  with  his  father  so  close,  looming  like  a  shadow  that  swallowed  every  last  bit  of  air.  words  failed  her,  but  her  eyes  didn't.  and  so  she  willed  him  to  look  at  her,  her  gaze  steady  and  unwavering,  though  everything  inside  her  trembled.  look  at  me,  her  eyes  silently  begged.  see  me,  her  look  implored.  don't  let  me  disappear  into  the  nightmare.  don't  let  him  erase  me.

[lastflowcrs]

his initial response was harrowing, sapphires for eyes growing momentarily wide before it dawned on her that he was jesting. ( even after realizing, their mutual gaze left jude's head spinning, comparable to being high. it'd only been a week since she'd last used, but the reminder made her throat ache. ) she swallowed hard, chewing anxiously on the inside of her cheek, but didn't dare look away. the devastating description coupled with his hardened allure was equal to a fine wine and a rare steak. all she wanted was to consume him, selfishly. a disgusted whimper preluded her words, " you are repulsive. " bowtie mouth curled into a smile, but she quickly covered it with her hands. jude was painfully aware of her perceived imperfections, particularly her yellowing, crooked teeth. she was known for only smiling with her mouth closed, if she did at all. however, her insecurity prompted her with another question. " what do you do with their teeth ? you can't burn those. " brows lift with curiosity as he lights his cigarette inside — such a simple act of disobedience filled her with a tingling warmth. it inspired her to act similarly — cold fingers pluck the cigarette away, rehoming it between her lips. " i'd wear them on a necklace, if i were you. underneath all my clothes, like a secret just for me. " she mumbled out of the side of her mouth, voice filtered through the smoke.

[brighteds]

sid's  gaze  lingered  on  her,  watching  all  of  it  with  that  same  distant  interest,  like  an  observer  at  a  zoo,  mildly  curious  but  detached.  his  eyes  darkened  then  as  she  took  his  cigarette  from  his  fingers,  the  casual  ease  of  it  grating  against  something  deep  within  him.  her  boldness  seemed  to  settle  into  his  strange  rhythm  with  him,  stirred  a  quiet  annoyance  beneath  him.  didn't  like  how  comfortable  she  felt  around  him.  didn't  like  how  she  touched  what  was  his  without  asking,  so  blind   to  the  line  she  was  treading.  his  fingers  twitched,  the  absence  of  the  cigarette  irritating,  like  an  itch  he  couldn't  scratch.  she  was  trying,  he  could  see  that  —-  leaning  into  his  dark  little  game,  flirting  with  danger.  " stop  that, "  he  muttered,  voice  low  and  sharp,  like  a  blade  cutting  through  the  smoke  that  now  hung  between  them.  " no  one's  ever  told  you  not  to  touch  what  isn't  yours ?  hm ? "  quite  the  contradictory  statement  after  his  story,  but  his  gaze  was  too  focused  on  the  cigarette,  his   cigarette,  between  her  dirty  chapped  lips.  patience  snapped  in  an  instant  then,  his  hand  shooting  out,  snatching  the  cigarette, his cigarette,  from  her  lips  with  a  sharp,  deliberate  motion.  the  soft  crackle  of  the  burning  paper  the  only  sound  in  the  tense  air  between  them.  didn't  bother  with  finesse,  the  white - hot  annoyance  simmering  just  beneath  the  surface  was  all  he  felt  now,  barely  holding  it  in  check.  his  legs  spread  wide  as  he  leaned  back,  reclaiming  the  space  between  them  as  if  it  had  never  been  hers  to  share.  the  gesture  was  as  territorial  as  it  was  dismissive,  pushing  her  farther,  like  he  needed  to  get  her  out  of  his  immediate  orbit  before  he  really  lost  his  grip.  he  took  a  deep  drag  from  the  cigarette,  his  cigarette,  exhaling  smoke  slowly  as  if  it  could  ever  help  cool  the  constant  anger  that  was  always  crawling  up  his  throat.  but  the  frustration  lingered,  gnawing  at  him.  he  hated  being  stuck  in  his  place,  trapped  in  this  sterile  room  with  nothing  but  the  sound  of  her  voice  —-  too  high-pitched,  too  eager,  too  damn  present;  cutting  into  his  head  like  a  dull  blade.  her  childlike  presence,  her  nervous  little  gestures,  only  grated  on  him  more.  like  a  buzzing  fly  in  a  room  with  no  windows.  " go  bother  someone  your  own  age, "   he  muttered,  eyes  narrowing  as  he  stared  straight  ahead,  not  bothering  to  look  at  her  now.  flicks  the  ash  of  the  cigarette,  his  cigarette,  onto  the  floor,  no  care  for  the  mess,  barely  controlling  the  urge  to  shove  her  even  farther  away.  " whatever  fucked up angst - ridden  interest  you  think  you  have  in  me,  forget  it.  i'll  snap  your  little teenage  fantasy  in  half  before  you  even  realize  what's  happening. "

[rkomi]

i've lost my memory for whatever reason and i don't know who you are but i just have a feeling that i'm supposed to trust you (said feeling is completely wrong and it's an enemy of some sorts)

[notpedropascal]

MIKE FAIST Challengers dir. Luca Guadagnino

[lacehearts]

⌗ open to : anyone ! ⌗ background : fane and your muse are members of an elite, secret society in a liberal arts college. your muse has just witnessed her k*ll a member who was going to rat them all out. basically, a take on the secret history.

"don't look at me like i'm some kind of monster," tone is cold and lacking any remorse. "he was nothing but a braggadocios fool. do you think he would've been able to keep his mouth shut after knowing what we did ?" palms wipe against her trousers, dark hues tilting down toward the ravine. "there'll be snowfall by morning . . . nobody will find him."

[brighteds]

grace  felt  her  pulse  hammering  in  her  throat  as  she  stared  at  the  dark  outline  of  the  ravine,  hands  trembling  slightly,  fingers  curling  tighter  around  the  strap  of  her  bag  as  if  it  could  anchor  her  to  something  normal  —-  something  sane.   wasn't  sure  what  to  say,  or  if  she  could  say  anything  at  all.  " i— "  grace's  voice  cracked,  barely  louder  than  the  wind  rustling  the  leaves  around  them.  she  swallowed  hard,  trying  to  steady  herself,  but  her  nerves  betrayed  her.  " i  didn't  think  you'd  actually— "  she  stopped,  not  daring  to  finish  the  sentence.  this  was  no  debate  in  a  classroom,  no  philosophical  question  she  could  outsmart.  grace  wanted  to  run,  to  put  as  much  distance  between  them  as  possible,  but  she  was  rooted  to  her  spot,  fear  and  uncertainty  holding  her  in  place.  " this  isn't  your  first  time ...  doing  this.  is  it ? "

[lacehearts]

⌗ open to : f / nb ! ⌗ background : give me a fezco & rue dynamic except romantic.

"i can't sell to you anymore . . ." words are firm as a tattooed hand combs through his short locks. "doesn't mean you can't hang here . . . just think you need a break."

[brighteds]

eyes  narrow,  jaw  clenched  as  the  words  sink  in.  " a  break ? "  her  movements  are  erratic,  fingers  tugging  at  her  sleeves,  her  whole  body  buzzing  with  desperation.  " don't  start  this  shit,  zero,  i  mean  it. "  her  anger  flares  hot,  but  she  catches  it,  swallows  it  down  with  a  shuddering  breath.  hands  unclench,  and  she  steps  closer,  fingers  grazing  his  arm  with  a  softness  that  betrays  the  storm  inside  her.  "  zero,  "  she  murmurs,  their  voice  a  low,  trembling  whisper.  her  eyes  finding his,  raw  and  searching.  " i  know  you're  just  trying  to  help.  you  always  do.  but  it's  been  a  real  shitty  day,  okay  ?  so,  don't  do  this  today. please. "  she  lets  her  hand  drift  to  his  chest,  lingering  there.  " please, "  she  whispers,  the  word  barely  holding  together,  " don't  take  this  from  me. "   her gaze  holds  his,  a  quiet  desperation  flickering  in  her  eyes.  " i  need  you. "

[lastflowcrs]

his conscience made him ill, hand reaching up to rub the back of his head as it began to pound. taylor thought, maybe this pain was a punishment, or maybe it was a form of empathy — his subconcious trying to even the playing field between the two of them. " i'm not sure you're going to die, " he clarified, desperate to relieve the ache inside him despite that he knew better than to reveal his achilles' heel in a time like this. her question made him pause, attention lingering on the sound of her labored breathing. " — — i want you to be — " again, the upstairs screendoor SLAMMED. taylor could feel his heart thumping in his teeth, eyes growing wide with a fear that now matched the girl's, boring into her with urgency. " ... quiet. "

russell calhoun was fast when he wanted to be, despite his weighted stride. he marched down the basement stairs with a fervent, almost childlike excitement, bursting through the unlocked door with enough force to nearly knock taylor off his feet. though they were related, russell's appearance was bear-like, all gnarled teeth and thick, greasy hair that blanketed his burly frame. by comparison, taylor was skin and bones, the skeletal remains of someone forgotten about in a basement such as this one. the younger male leaned back against the cement wall, bracing himself. " i see you've had time to get friendly with our pretty little guest. " his father snarled, bloodshot eyes ( the same color as taylor's ) raking the female up and down. he moved closer to her, snatching her face in his giant hand.

" hardly, " taylor responded, crossing his arms over his chest.

" such soft skin, " russell continued, barely paying his son any mind as he ran a thick thumb across her chin. " has she told you about her daddy, yet ? " he abruptly pulled away before eventually turning to face the other male. there was a sickness that wafted from him — an afflicted passion that taylor hadn't seen in years. no longer just drunk on whiskey, his father was drunk on power. " a politician. he's got money. owns half of oregon and half the people there too. their minds. " he tapped a fat finger against his temple. " not this one, though. reckon he'll give us 10 million to have her back. " russell spat on the floor just a few inches from where his capture was chained to the ground.

[brighteds]

max's  body  locked  up  as  the  man  grabbed  her  face,  the  pressure  of  his  rough  hand  bruising  her  skin,  his  fingers  like  iron.  the  smell  of  him  choked  the  air  between  them,  making  her  stomach  turn.  his  gaze  was  wild,   feral,  like  he  found  pleasure  in  the  way  she  squirmed  beneath  his  touch.  her  heart  hammered  in  her  chest,  her  breaths  shallow  and  quick,  but  she  forced  herself  to  stay  still.  to  not  flinch.  for  a  moment,  everything  stopped.  her  mind  froze,  his  words  echoing  in  her  skull.  ten  million  dollars.  that's  what  they  thought  she  was  worth ?  she  was  sure  the  effect  he'd  wanted  was  to  strike   terror  deep  into  her  bones,  to make  her  see  just  how  high  the  stakes  were.  but  instead,  something  else  bubbled  up  inside  her.  something  sharp  and  ugly.  and  before  she  could  stop  it,  a  burst  of  laughter  tore  out  of  her  throat.  it  was  wild,  ragged,  and  far  too  loud  for  the  small  room,  echoing  off  the  damp  concrete  walls  like  a  slap.  she  could  feel  the  shock  of  it  settling  like  a  weight  in  her  stomach,  making  her  want  to  scream,  or  cry,  but  all  that  came  was  more  laughter.  she  laughed  until  her  chest  hurt,  until  the  sound  turned  almost  manic,  because  the  truth  was  so  ridiculous  it  was  tragic.  her  father ?  pay  ten  million  dollars ?  for  her ?  she  wiped  her  mouth  on  her  shoulder,  swallowing  down  the  last  trace  of  laughter,  though  her  voice  still  trembled  with.  " ten  million ? "  shaking  her  head,  her  voice  hoarse  and  disbelieving.  " he  wouldn't  spend  ten  cents  to  get  me  back. "  the  truth  of  it  settled  into  her  bones,  hard  and  unyielding.  she  had  known  this,  hadn't  she ?  always,  in  the  back  of  her  mind.  she  had  always  known  he'd  never  come  for  her.  she  had  just  never  had  to  face  it  so  directly,  so  painfully.  her  mouth  was  dry,  her  voice  barely  more  than  a  rasp  as  she  spoke  again,  her  words  tasting  bitter  in  her  throat.  " he's  not  coming, "  she  murmured,  shaking  her  head  slightly.  " you  don't  understand  ...  he  wouldn't  care  enough  to  save  me. "  her  breath  trembled  as  she  finally  lifted  her  head,  her  eyes  narrowing,  no  longer  filled  with  fear  but  with  something  colder,  sharper.  she  wasn't  going  to  beg.  she  wasn't  going  to  plead  for  a  rescue  that  would  never  come.  " might  as  well  just  get  it  over  with  and  kill  me  now. "

[lastflowcrs]

doe eyes slightly widened as it occurred to her just how impenetrable his indifference really was. her inner monologue insisted that she loves a challenge but she's lying to herself. jude had never accomplished anything challenging in her life. the femme was notorious for giving up, hence how she ended up in a place like this, depending on strangers to hold her accountable. " are you a rapist, then ? " she inquired so plainly, like she was asking for his name, which she still didn't know. " cause i can't see any other reason why the staff wouldn't mind their own fucking business about who i talk to. " technically, she wasn't supposed to be speaking to anyone of the opposite sex, but the facility couldn't come right out and say it. the area they were located in was much too politically evolved for that — jude once even thought of following him into one of the gender-neutral bathrooms just to see if he'd let her suck him off in one of the stalls.

[brighteds]

his  fingers  paused  again  but  this  time  something  flickered  in  his  eyes —-  just  for  a  moment.  a  trace  of  amusement,  dark  and  subtle,  like  the  shadow  of  a  smile  that  never  quite  reached  his  lips.  he  didn't  care  about  her  question,  but  there  was  a  temptation  now,  a  tug  at  the  edges  of  his  boredom.   " yes. "  he  let  the  silence  hang  between  them  for  a  beat,  watching  her  closely  now,  studying  her  reaction  as  if  it  was  the  only  mildly  interesting  thing  in  the  room.  he  leans  forward  slightly  then,  lowering  his  voice.   " well,  sort  of.  i  like  to  kill  them  first, "  he  said,  eyes  gleaming  faintly  before  leaning  back  again  and  staring  into  the  distance,  as  if  to  reminisce.  " strangulation's  my  favorite.  there's  something  about  the  way  the  body  jerks,  the  way  they  fight  against  it   —-   it's  hypnotic.   you'd  think  it'd  be  loud,  but  it's  not.  it's  quiet,  in  a  way.  personal. "  he  paused,  his  fingers  methodically  rolling  the  cigarette  between  them.  " then  i  burn  them.  down  to  nothing.  no  smell  like  it  —-  skin,  hair,  bones. "  his  lips  curve  into  the  faintest  smirk  before  he  reaches  in  to  his  pocket  to  pull  out  a  lighter,  the  metallic  click  of  the  flint  igniting  a  small,  dancing  flame.  knew  he  wasn't  supposed  to  be  smoking  inside,  the  staff  had  made  it  clear,  like  it  actually  mattered  in  the  grand  scheme  of  things.  he  lights  it  then,  exhaling  slowly  as  smoke  curled  upward  like  the  very  flames  he'd  just  spoken  of.  finally  let  his  eyes  settle  on  her,  really  settle,  slow  and  unhurried,  tracing  the  lines  of  her  face.  it  dawned  on  him  quietly,  like  a  passing  thought  —-  she  was,  without  question,  the  prettiest  thing  he'd  ever  laid  eyes  on.  but  nothing  in  his  face  betrayed  it.  his  gaze  remaining  distant,  calm  as  ever,  like  the  revelation  had  barely  skimmed  the  surface  of  him.  he  inhaled,  the  smoke  curling  between  them,  delicate  and  indifferent,  as  though  her  beauty  was  just  another  fleeting  moment,  soon  to  be  forgotten.

[lastflowcrs]

twenty eight years old — same as him — long enough to have laid roots, to have mastered the world and what was required to move through it efficiently. it's haunting how she practically reads his mind. was he that easy to see through ? a cellophane man unwilling to step into the light and expose his insides. then there it was — a gnawing voice in the back of taylor's head, undoubtedly belonging to his father, reminded him not to be so WEAK and PATHETIC. nostrils flare with frustration. " you're not worth very much at twenty eight. " he seeks half to scare her, half to deduce why she was here in the first place. his father hadn't been involved in trafficking in years anyway. sight trains on hers, holding her gaze for as long as he could manage ( only a few seconds ). any longer and she'd see him, or worse : he'd learn the color of her eyes. " who you will be ... " taylor half-laughed, pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief. " why should i give a fuck about who you will be ? 'reckon that'll be different now, so. " surely the nameless female was intelligent enough to know that already, but he dwells on it, if only to further break her. like father like son — he'd been trained well. " might want to start focusing on living in the moment. it's all you've got, kid. " as the lightbulb begins to swing away from him again, he'll take the chance to wince at his own callousness while hidden in the darkness. no chance that he'd be able to look at her again any time soon. the venom dripping from his lips made his face feel numb, his body foreign, possessed by a version of himself that taylor would never fully claim, no matter how many times he found himself in this basement. " and what kind of person do you think i would like ? "

[brighteds]

his  words  hit  her  like  a  punch,  knocking  the  air  from  her  lungs.  for  a  moment,  she  felt  herself  spiral  —-  felt  the  icy  fingers  of  fear  grip  her  so  tightly  she  thought  they'd  leave  bruises.  that  was  what  he  wanted,  she  knew.  to  break  her,  to  let  his  words  dig  deep  and  settle  under  her  skin.  and  it  worked,  at  first.  the  chill  of  it  made  her  chest  tighten,  made  her  heart  pound.  realizing  he  was  simply  trying  to  scare  her  steadied  her  breath  then,  the  sharp  edge  of  panic  dulling  into  something   quiet.  her  pulse  still  hammered  in  her  chest,  but  there  was  a  glint  of  defiance  behind  it  now.  " if  you're  really  so  sure  i'm  gonna  die,  then  why  am  i  still  here  ?  why  not  just  get  it  over  with  ? "  the  flicker  of  anger  was  small,  but  it  was  there,  and  it  fueled  her  enough  to  hold  her  ground.  she  locked  eyes  with  him  as  long  as  she  could  manage,  feeling  the  weight  of  his  stare,  the  way  he  tried  to  pull  away  before  anything  real  slipped  through.  he's  scared  too.  she  almost  pitied  him  for  it.  her  lips  twitched  then,  almost  a  smile,  but  not  quite.  " what  kind  of  person  do  you  want  me  to  be ? "

[lastflowcrs]

closed starter for @brighteds

she needed him to like her, to want her. in the last 72 hours ( precisely the amount of time since she'd been released from medical detox ) jude had become obsessed with the idea of this man desiring her. something about his stoicism in group therapy immediately piqued her curiosity — his contempt was so palpable it was almost edible. she wanted to inhale him. she'd spent the last two nights lying alone in her bed, shivering as she fantasized about him hunched over at the foot of his mattress, gripping himself while thinking about what it'd be like to touch her. the concentration knit into his brows, the sweat pooling on the back of his neck, the grunt he'd emit when finishing all over his hand. a coy smile manifests on her face as she stares at those same hands now while settling next to him on a couch in one of the center's rec rooms. she'd only spoken to him once before, to bum a cigarette on her first day. this was the first time she'd ever seen him truly alone. her knee bumps against his with intent. " you know, " the girl began, making sure she had his full attention, " they say i should stay away from you. the staff, i mean. but it only makes me want to talk to you more. "

[brighteds]

sid  barely  glanced  up,  too  focused  on  the  task  in  front  of  him.  his  rough,  calloused  fingers  moved  with  practiced  ease,  rolling  the  cigarette  despite  the  dirt  caked  beneath  his  nails.  the  paper  crinkled  softly  between  his  hands,  the  only  sound  that  seemed  to  matter  to  him.  he  didn't  shift,  didn't  acknowledge  the  gesture  beyond  the  faintest  twitch  of  his  brow.  she  spoke  then.  he  heard  her  words,  but  they  washed  over  like  background  noise,  blending  into  the  hum  of  the  rec  room  around  them.  sid  had  heard  variations  of  this  before.  the  interest,  the  curiosity   —-  always  from  women  who  thought  they  were  different,  thought  they'd  get  a  rise  out  of  him.  but  they  never  did.  he  licked  the  edge  of  the  paper  and  sealed  the  cigarette,  still  not  looking  at  her.  a  quiet  scoff  escaped  his  lips  as  he  finally  slid  his  eyes  toward  her,  though  his  expression  remained  unreadable.  whatever  she  wanted,  it  didn't  matter.  he  was  used  to  attention  like  this,  but  it  was  a  tired  routine.  " staff's  probably  right, "  he  muttered,  voice  low  and  disinterested.  he  tapped  the  cigarette  against  his  knee,  then  shifted  his  focus  away  again,  already  bored  with  the  conversation  that  hadn't  even  really  begun.