#perfectionreached

[scatcrccio]

@perfectionreached sent: ❛ i thought you… i saw you get shot. ❜

FAKING HER DEATH HADN'T BEEN EASY, a lot of details went into planning it out to make it believable and of course, there were casualties to consider along with many risks. There was no actual certainty that it would go smoothly, or that it would work out in its entirety. Lottie seemed to have some sort of sixth sense when it came to whatever it was and part of Nat wondered if she'd somehow figure it out in the end. Thankfully, that wasn't the case or at least, didn't seem to be. As far as anyone was concerned, Natalie Scatorccio was dead; the wilderness had taken its queen and was satiated, for now. But she knows too, that it would only get hungry again, sooner rather than later, no doubt. They would only be able to mask through their little trick for so long and already, there was a sense of dread that washed over Natalie specifically that she couldn't quite fight off. Lying to her friends was the most difficult part, but in doing so, she was able to buy them more time, keeping them alive through Lottie's delusions if only for a while. Nat had technically - and legally - been dead, the rest of the details were just that: details.

❝ I mean, that was kind of the point. ❞ They couldn't let it be known to the others that Misty's needle wasn't laced with actual poison meant to kill, just enough to stop Nat's heart long enough before she could be revived back to life, allowing her to start over— to start anew. Medical records forged. A new identity acquired. The performance of a lifetime, literally. It seemed simpler at the time, though none of them could've anticipated how it was all going to go down overall, with Lottie getting shot in the arm and the compound ransacked to the ground. Coming back hadn't been part of the initial plan either, she was supposed to stay away for good and keep up the charade. But of course, Nat's stubbornness got the best of her like it always did and she finds herself standing in front of Taissa, somewhat nervously. Expecting a full throttle backlash to hit her in the face (whether that would be metaphorically or physically was still uncertain, she's prepped for both either way). ❝ Surprise—? ❞

[feminaferitas]

@perfectionreached is the maid of honor on Shauna's happy (?) day

Thank god for wedding day superstitions. The groom wasn't allowed to see the bride until that fateful walk down the aisle, so that meant Jeff wasn't nearby to see Shauna threatening to ruin an hour's worth of careful makeup with an ill-timed bout of tears. Taissa, her maid of honor, was on damage control, and boy, was it a lot of damage.

Not only was the sight of herself in a white dress (pure as the driven, deadly snow) hard to comprehend, but Shauna just remembered something--

"Tai, there's... there's the cake knife. Oh, god -- it's beautiful and it has our initials engraved on it. It was a gift from the Taylors, and what if I try to hurt him with it?"

For almost two years of her life, knives had not been beautiful, silvered things for slicing sugared breads in delicately manicured hands. They were hard, leather-wrapped things with edges held to the whetstone, pointed and lethal. Shauna had wrapped her dirtied fingers around the handle and skinned, cleaved, and butchered humans and animals alike. Hungry eyes holding fast, watching. What would she do today, in front of the crowd of loved ones waiting to see how that cake would bleed what flavor they'd finally decided on?

"Taissa, I don't think I can do this..."

Yes, thank god for wedding day superstitions. Too bad they never said nothing about seeing the ghost of your dead best friend sitting in the corner, watching the scene and saying absolutely nothing.

[lavenderrpages]

@perfectionreached liked for a starter.

" look. i'm just saying do a story with me. publish it under your own circumstances with someone you can trust. not some blood thirsty media outlet that's just going to make up lies about you, and your experiences. trash tabloids aren't the ' taissa-turner ' way. "

[silencedrage]

[ 𝐥𝐢𝐞 ] : SIMONE ABARA is trying to convince TAISSA TURNER they're feeling fine. (@perfectionreached)

She lets out a giggle as she sways in her heels, the champagne settling into a pleasant buzz in her head. Simone reaches out and catches her wife's hands, tugging Tai in closer so she can steal a kiss. "I'm fine!" she insists, even though Tai didn't say a word. She can see it written all over her face and a part of her knows that she's probably had a little too much to drink tonight and not nearly enough in her stomach to counter it, but she can't help that she is happy.

Taissa had just won the Democratic nomination to go up against Phil Bathurst, and Simone wanted to be proud of her wife. Even though she knows it's only the very beginning of her political career, every step feels momentous for Tai, and she deserves to be celebrated. "I will go and get a water, I promise, but please smile, baby. Tonight is a great night and this is all for you. You're allowed to enjoy it."

[afraidofchange]

[ WHISPER ]: sender pins the receiver against a wall in order to whisper something into their ear (either a secret or in a manner of seduction). (for van)

Pinned Against a Wall | @perfectionreached

"Tai, Tai," Van's soft protests are all but buried in Taissa's embrace as the other woman lightly, drunkenly pushes her back to the wall. They've found themselves a space away from the others in the haze of music and alcohol, and her earlier confession has seemingly brought this out of her former lover - like she might never get the chance - and a part of her, selfishly, wants it too, though instinct stands and attempts to reason. "Tai, I can't..." She sighs, closing her eyes as Tai's lips find her pulse point, kissing along the curve of her neck beneath tendrils of loose, vibrantly red hair.

"Can't what?" Tai looks up, a challenge in that gaze; Van, however, doesn't let go of her waist, fingers instead hooking into the waistband of those borrowed jeans (she makes them look damn good, too). That look, however, is just too much but the way Taissa kisses her way to Van's ear, tucking hair out of the way just to whisper a temptation into her ear all but makes her melt on the spot - and flush red from head to toe.

"Goddamnit," Van says to herself, but soon the haze of liquor and desire make her forget the world around them, hand reaching into Taissa's hair to pull her back into another kiss, deep, hungry.

[darkconsumed]

meme || accepting.

@perfectionreached asked: ❝  is that what you were going to say,  or did i make this entire thing awkward?  ❞

"Wouldn't say you made it awkward, but did rush it a bit," is said in a teasing manner as lips tug up into a soft smile. Van had, for a while now, been wanting to tell the other how they felt. Wanted it to be known if it weren't already made obvious by how they would do anything and everything for Taissa. "But I do...ya know..." they murmured, hand reaching out to cup cheek, thumb stroking gently, "I love you, Tai."

[pvnkshooter]

honestly you write nat so beautifully. i'm so excited for the pre crash things we have going because even without knowing a lot about the characters during that time you have such a grasp on who nat is and i love it !! always very excited to see ur takes on things

how's my portrayal?

maddie my fucking HEART okay!! i love you and tai so much and this means so much to me knowing that you feel this way. i just wanna give so much life to their pre crash dynamic and explore what it was so that it adds even more depth and nuance to the canon events of both timelines. thank you for coming on that journey with me when we do get to write it cause i'm so slow!

[livedtough]

@perfection-reached​ said: “I think I should tell you now, your friends aren’t coming. They’ve been intercepted.” (to Icheb >:3)

  ↣ THE TWILIGHT ZONE

Icheb knows he should be angry, that he should face a threat the way Janeway does: with bravery and control, but all he feels is afraid. He is afraid that she’s right, and he’s afraid she’ll take him back into the Collective. He’s afraid she’ll win. He’s just come to learn what it is to be an individual, to be Icheb, and he doesn’t want to lose it. 

“You’re wrong,” he says, despite the fear that gnaws at his stomach. (This isn’t butterflies. This is worse.) “They’ll come.” Even if they are intercepted, they’ll come for him.