nyx twenty six. australian. she/her.
wants to be phoebe tonkin
multimuse blog & semi selective. occasionally NSFW & i usually forget to tag it, you've been warned.
please read the rules before replying.
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Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your c r o w n
See I've come to burn your
kingdom down
torrance coombs is going to be in season five of the originals, and playing hayley’s love interest. i’ve not watched in years, but i’m tempted for him.
For the last 48 hours @nyxmuses has been tormenting me on all social media platforms with her sexual attraction to cartoon Jafar I am a good person I don’t deserve this.
For the last 48 hours @nyxmuses has been tormenting me on all social media platforms with her sexual attraction to cartoon Jafar I am a good person I don’t deserve this.
books or movies? philoshopher’s stone or chamber of secrets? prisoner of azkaban, goblet of fire or half-blood prince? order of the phoenix or deathly hallows? slytherin or ravenclaw? gryffindor or hufflepuff? durmstrang or beauxbatons? chaser or beater? seeker or keeper?
Send a symbol for a headcanon about my muse. All horror/angst/scifi related.
✘ Have they ever committed a murder?
▼ What is their greatest fear?
✿ Would they ever trust dark or wicked magic?
△ Name one thing from their past that they regret.
✂ If they had to choose one weapon to carry forever, what would it be?
☣ Would they kill someone close to them if they had to?
☢ Would they survive an apocalyptic situation?
❣ If someone had the power to bring them back after death, would they want them to?
☠ Do they fear death?
♱ What do they think awaits them after death?
¿ Are they easily frightened?
╳ How would they react to seeing a loved one become possessed?
☹ Name one person they would kill for.
☼ If they had the choice to be immortal with one other person, who would they choose?
☎ How would they react to receiving a phone call from a deceased love one?
★ Do they have a favorite scary movie? Book? Show?
♣ Do they believe the world is made up of good and evil?
♥ Have they ever acting out of heartlessness?
☾ What is their favorite and least favorite thing about the night?
ψ Do they think they deserve punishment for their wrongdoings?
ϟ Have they ever gotten pleasure from causing others pain?
♚ Do they consider themselves to be evil?
♒ If they could choose how to die, how would they want to go?
™ Are they possessive?
✔ Are they holding a grudge against anyone?
◯ Do they believe in ghosts?
✦ Who is their favorite villain?
☄ While watching a scary movie, are they the one clinging to a friend or being clung to?
웃 Do they believe in aliens?
HOW CAN YOU BLAME ME FOR THIS MESS YOU CREATED– I LITERALLY SENT YOU THE HAPPIEST OF PROMPTS.
and I gave you the happy parts. I mean, baby shepkat were the cutest and little kat just deciding they were friends was everything. I just.... kept going with it after the happy ended.
💕 your muse telling my muse that they will always be friends.
She’s ten and flying through the streets, the summer sun beating it’s scorching path on the cement, showing no sign of letting up despite the rapidly approaching autumn months. Golden brown tresses fall in messy plaits upon tanned shoulders, knotted from a day of being a pirate, then a ships captain, an adventurer, always a female. Females were born to be the hero, the adventurer, she’d argue stubbornly. She was fearless, jade eyes determined as she rounds the corner fast, faster then the boys on her street but not as fast as the boy she’s determined to beat, her brother speeding on ahead, dark eyes narrowed as he focuses on trying to ditch his stubborn little sister.
She takes the corner too quickly and before she realises she’s losing control, and as much as she tries to right herself she’s over the handlebars, chin colliding with cement, knees scraping against the floor painfully. She doesn’t cry, she refuses, at least until the boys that had been following her rounded the corner after Nic where he was cackling away about finally ditching her, not bothered about the fact his youngest sister was injured or the questions he’d have to answer later when she came home scraped and bruised whilst supposedly under his watch. She’s about to give up and drag herself home, when a shadow looms over her, then kneels beside her. She knows the boy of course, with his kind smile and bright eyes, a couple of years older then she is. He cares for the cuts on her knees before he takes her chin between his fingers with a gentleness that she rarely receives. “All done.”
He helps her stand and she looks up at him, summoning all the confidence that she can muster despite the pain from her knees as she juts out her chin and looks up at the boy. “Who are you?” she asked, and a frown creased her brow as she waited for the answer. He looked down at the skinny girl that stood several heads shorter then he, short for her age though not because her legs weren’t long. She was all legs and in a few years she’d catch up, surpass her classmates even. “Stephen Shepard. Who are you?” he replied back almost immediately. She wrinkles her nose, “That’s a weird name. I’m Kat. Kat Andretti. Now that’s a name.” she stepped back and moved to grab her bike, and the boy takes it for her as he began to walk along, Kat balancing on the curb as she heads in the direction of her home, Shep walking along beside her with her bike. “I like you, we’re going to be friends.” she said out of the blue, as if it were decided that from that moment on they would be friends. And they were.
She’s sixteen, and off to her ‘first’ party, though she doesn’t confess that she’s been sneaking out after dark to parties since she was thirteen. This is the first party that Gio had been aware of, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Shep was taking her, he wouldn’t be letting her go. She’s got a magazine propped in front of her mirror and she hovers close to it, doing her make up ever so slowly as her eyes dart between her reflection and the instructions on the magazine, showing you how to get eyes like a runway model. She’s upstairs when the doorbell rings and she drops the makeup immediately as she practically flies down the stairs to stop someone else from answering the door, groaning as she’s beaten to it.
Braden is the one to answer the door and usher Shep inside, already giving her best friend the do’s and don’ts with his sister when in reality he couldn’t give a shit what the boy does with his baby sister. He doesn’t care much beyond the next job, his next lay, his next fight. Protecting Kat’s interests were never his priority. She shoves him out of the way with a few choice curse words and shoves Shep back out the door before anyone else can butt in or comment, or worse should Gio appear and begin interrogations or merely trying to scare the shit out of Shep. She jumps on Shep’s back for a piggy back ride from her front doorstep to his car, laughing and joking all the way too the party as she tries to shove the Andretti family dramas from her mind.
The party’s a bust and it’s not long before they’re leaving in favour of spending their night doing something far more interesting. She dangles an arm around his neck as they walk towards his car, “Let’s go driving.” she requests, and he merely smiles indulgently and unlocks the car. They drive, and drive, their car weaving through roads that are more familiar to them then the palms of their hands as finally they stop at their favourite spot, sitting on the hood of the car to watch the sun rise and Kat stretches, leaning back at looking up at the rising sun.
Lying beside her, silence fell between the two, before she quietly turned her head to the side to look at him. “-- we’ll always be friends, you know that right?” she doesn’t allow an answer as she turned her gaze back to the sunrise, effectively cutting off the conversation in favour of watching the sky’s changing colours.
She’s twenty three, old enough to know better and still it’s obvious she doesn’t. There’s a duffel bag that clearly belongs to her by the door, and she scans the living room of their apartment with red rimmed eyes as she searches for any traces of her that she might’ve left behind. There’s one thing she can’t take though, and as she bends her head over the note her fingers idly trace the first and only scan they’d had, when they’d lost the baby. The one that confirmed that it had died before it could really live, that she hadn’t been able to protect it the way that mothers’ were meant to. How could she have thought she could’ve done this? She was useless, her baby deserved better, Shep deserved better. Tears tracked steadily down her cheeks as she wrote the letter to Shep, knowing that words couldn’t make up for what she was about to do, but she couldn’t leave without saying something.
Shep,
I’m sorry.
That’s not enough, I know. I know. But I can’t be what you need me to be, I can’t be that girl.
You’re my best friend, Shep. You’ll always be my best friend and I’ll always be your friend.
As the laughter at Mark’s inability to keep anything secret swirled around him, Jack found himself fading out. As much as he was happy to be around his friend again–after four years of spending almost every moment together, even a week apart felt like a lot– he was struck by how much he did not want to be here at this moment. When Alexandra turned the conversation back on him, however, he snapped back to attention. “Me? No, not at the moment. But who knows, maybe I’ll have better luck now than I did at seventeen,” he smiled sheepishly.
He definitely had never been in love the way the couple in front of him clearly was. He knew Mark was the overly sentimental type; hell he’d spent four years with the man, listening to him tell every story about how he and Alexandra had met over and over again. But there was something different about watching the two in person, with their hands all over each other. He was glad to see his friend so happy, but that was definitely something they’d get made fun of all night for by the other marines from their unit, even those who also had a woman on their arm.
Later he’d use that as a joking excuse for why he’d left early. ‘I had to, you two were nauseating me.’ But the truth was his mother’s words still echoed in the back of his head, and it was hard to focus on anything else.
“I actually can’t stay, I just came to show my face and to make sure you made it here okay.” At the second part, he reached out and punched Mark’s shoulder playfully. “The man can’t navigate to save his life,” he offered conspiratorially to Alexandra. “You being here makes sense as to why he made it at all.” The jovial words felt fake in his mouth, but he did his best to muster up a convincing smile.
Alexandra couldn’t help but frown when he obviously zoned out of the conversation, and if he hadn’t have been Mark’s friend then she wouldn’t have hesitated in saying something to him. She might not have wanted to be here either, but she was making effort to at least pay attention, and she knew that she had no right or reason to be irritated with the way he drifted off so easily. Was she boring him? “I don’t think any seventeen year old has luck.” she commented with a more forced smile then she had before, and Mark squeezed her waist with a laugh. “Nah, I did babe.” he interjected, as she merely rolled her eyes playfully and bumped her hip against his, her expression clearly not believing him for one second.
Mark was clearly unbothered by his friends lack of interest in the conversation, too wrapped up in the fact that his best friend was finally meeting the girl he wanted to marry, the girl whom had no idea that at this very moment an engagement ring was sitting in a secret spot in the apartment he was in, hidden from her eyes whenever she pried herself away from her dorm to come visit him, spend the night. He was just waiting for the perfect moment, a few months away when she graduated, to ask her to marry him. She was the one, as corny as that sounded, he knew it. When Jack said that he should go, that he couldn’t stay, Mark’s brows knitted together as his mouth opened in protest. “You just got here--” he began, eyes locking on Jacks as he leant towards Alexandra.
Alex was surprised at being addressed, leaning forward a little to hear what Jack had to say before a small smile curved her lips. “A marine with no navigation skills, that’s a recipe for disaster isn’t it?” she asked with a chuckle, wondering whether the sudden playfulness was real or not, compared to how distant he had been before. Was it her? From the way Mark spoke, it sounded like it was something she did, at least that was how she felt. She didn’t protest when he said he had to leave though, and elbowed Mark to shut him up. “It was nice to meet you Jack.” she replied gently, waiting for the man to take his leave as Mark reached to say goodbye to his friend.
She snorted at his impression of a New Yorker. “Yes, clearly the world is going to end if you don’t get there right now. It’s nice to talk to another outsider, it reaffirms that this behavior isn’t normal,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Oh me, I’m from Santa Monica– right outside of LA. So pretty much the exact direct opposite coast of here. And yes, I know what you’re thinking,” she continued before he could. “Yes I am a California girl who ordered a California turkey panini– what can I say I am a walking stereotype.” As if to punctuate her admittance, Doll held up her hands in an open-palmed shrug.
As she listened to his answer about how he came about commissions, Doll was struck by the feeling that she hadn’t really learned anything new from him that she hadn’t already known. His answer was vague and didn’t really answer her questions, but she figured it wasn’t wasn’t worth pressing. It wasn’t her career so it wasn’t anything she really needed to worry about; besides the question had only been small talk anyway. He could keep the nitty gritty details to himself if he wanted to.
When he continued, however, mentioning that he had to bring his next commission in person, she made a face. “Sounds like the snooty art type. They probably want it to be hand delivered to ensure no middle man gets any dirt on it.” Doll rolled her eyes. “You know the help can be so unreliable these days,” she continued conspiratorially, adopting a WASPy New England accent. Dropping back to normal, she shook her head again. “Museum curators can be so pretentious, like clearly if this is your job you know what you’re doing,” she offered in a mater-of-fact tone. “Which piece is it?” she added, trying to remember all the ones she’d seen while they had been there. Granted she’d been a little distracted…
The waitress came back with their drinks and Doll thanked her automatically before picking up her beer. “Well, cheers. To art, and making new friends,” she toasted jokingly, before tipping the bottle back and taking a sip.
He chuckled a little as he rest his elbows lightly on the table, shaking his head. “No, Chicago is similar but cleaner, less claustrophobic, not as hostile.” he quipped with a smirk, though she didn’t need to know he’d grown up in a slightly rougher part of the neighbourhood, not far from where Sloan and the Andretti Family were roaming around and causing mayhem. He often wondered if he’d moved to a different part, if his family had been able to afford a different borough would his life have turned out differently? Yes, without a doubt. It was something that grated on his nerves a lot, but he couldn’t change the past he supposed, but he was honestly trying to let go and change the future as much as he could, as long as he stayed away from Sloan. Something he was struggling to do given he could at that moment feel his phone vibrating lightly in his pocket, another call no doubt from Sloan that he was glad to ignore.
He grinned as she adopted a different accent, recognising it immediately as she began to imitate some of his genuine clients to perfection and he couldn’t help the laugh that parted his lips as he nodded. “Well, ma’am, that’s why Oliver Hudson produces not only the finest work in the wonderful country that is the US of A, But service, with a smile.” with that he spread his arms open wide in a gesture as if to bow and plastered a wide, obviously fake, smile on his lips that was painful after all of two seconds before he laughed and dropped his arms back down to the table as he heard Doll’s next question. Shit. His features remained completely neutral as he knew he had to come up with something he could remember, “A Remington.” he replied nonchalantly, truth. “Just a simple touch up to have back in place by the end of the week.” partially true, he was three quarters of the way through a near perfect replica and by the end of the week when the ‘restoration’ (done in all of one day - but the museum didn’t need to know that) he would have a fully replicated, near impossible to tell, copy of the art work for Sloan. Then the cycle would start all over again.
However, he couldn’t have been more grateful for the arrival of the waitress with their drinks and he sipped at his beer quickly before he heard the toast. Friends. Hmm. He didn’t comment on that, the mere fact that he wanted to be more then friends stuck in his head. Heck he’d made that obvious, he hoped. “So, what classes are you taking at the moment?”
❛ You say it’s the last time every time. ❜ kira and garrett :)
from this
❛ You say it’s the last time every time. ❜
To him, it was. Every time someone convinced him to put down the bottle, it was the last time to him. He’d be so detirmined to follow through, go to the AA Meetings that Viv had looked up for him as part of the custody arrangement so that he could see Alexandra. He would spend time with Charles and the family he’d made for himself and wonder how his friend had managed to get his shit together, whilst Garrett was still barely scraping by. He’d watch on the outside looking in as his daughter was raised without a father, or see his friends move on without him, giving up on him like he knew deep down they always would.
Yet, every damn time he’d find himself struggling too damn much and he’d pick up the bottle, and another, and another, until he could barely stand and eventually he would pass out. Sometimes he’d made it to the toilet before he did, other times he wasn’t so quick and he’d pass out in a pool of his own vomit for the housekeeper to find the next day. The vicious cycle continued, with a different person coming to pull him out of the dark pit he’d drunk himself into each time. Kira, Charles, Viv, if he didn’t know better he’d swear that they did rock, paper scissors to find out whose turn it was next.
This time, they went a week before they began to seek him out. He’d stopped returning calls, nothing new. He’d not answered the door when Charles knocked, again nothing new. It was when he hadn’t shown up to a visit with Alexandra, something he’d rarely done, that alarm bells began to ring. It was Kira who turned up, immaculate shoes treading through smashed glass and empty bottles, dancing neatly around the vomit as she looked down at Garrett unconscious on the floor with a sigh before she pulled out her cell phone to call for help.
Hours later he was showered, somewhat conscious and laying on top of his bed when he opened his bleary gaze up towards Kira. “It’s the last time, Kir...” he murmured softly, voice rough from lack of use and what he’d been doing, scratchy and distant as he brought his eyes up to Kira’s. “I promise.” but even as he said it he knew the words were weak, that they held no promise or weight. He’d be back at the bottle in no time, and one day he’d go to far and they’d have to deal with a body. He could see she didn’t, couldn’t, believe him, and what really scared him most of all was where he once would’ve had a long speech about how he was throwing his life away and the effect he was having on those around him, the normally feisty Kira merely shook her head in response.
dededos
annaxmalina
kaledo-art
pixelskylines
andulkaphoto
tangentwithtanner
origamiaround
