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Realistic or Modern Nightshade. (IC)




ezrael.





































  • mood



    apathetic


















Ezra felt the touch of Esme’s power on the lapel of his sweater long after she’d entered the headmaster’s office for her meeting. The skin where it had brushed like phantom hands along his collarbone felt ice cold, almost burning.

It felt like death.

So is this how her powers had chosen to manifest? They were similar to their father’s and his own, but…older. More primal.

It was usual for there to be notable differences in how the powers of everybody in his family presented themselves, but he’d never felt anything like his sister’s before. It was very possible her more volatile and emotional nature had affected this as well, so was he surprised….? No, not particularly.

Well, at least now he knew.

Ezra hated waiting, and he was growing impatient as he waited for his turn in the headmaster’s office.

Janelle Cartwright had gone to school with his and Esme’s parents. Their mother, of course, didn’t have a kind word to say about the woman—not that she did about anybody, to be fair. Whiny, prudish and boring were among the nicer descriptors that Mariana had used for the young headmaster.

It was easy to see that not much had changed in the 25 or so years since they’d graduated.

In his almost four years at the school, the woman had seemingly accomplished nothing but create more useless mandates—the latest being the Clean Blood Act that allowed the school’s vampires access to only animal blood—and allow for one of her students to be murdered on campus.

At least he hadn’t been expecting that.

Footsteps sounded from down the hallway, and soon enough Veronika Hawthorne—the least despicable of the family members that attended Nightshade—came into view, annoyance written all over her sharp features.

Her look turned rapidly from annoyed to nervous when she saw him and came to a stop several feet away.

He hadn’t been expecting her to speak to him, but…

“Are you waiting to go in?” she asked him, her voice low and cool.

He merely observed her for a moment lazily, his grey eyes flicking over her face as a self assured smirk made its way to his face.

“No, this just so happens to be my favorite place to sit,” he drawled, the smirk growing wider. “It’s excellent real estate—“ he threw his hand out with a flourish, encompassing the other plastic chairs, the water dispenser in the corner and the fake plastic plants that added nothing to the space, “—and a real hub of activity, as I’m sure you could tell.”

A laugh slipped from him then, as he sat up a bit straighter in his chair and once again tugged at that annoying collar.

“Yes. I’m waiting.”


































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 



Esmeralda Hearthstone





































  • mood



    upset --> satisfied --> focused

















What sort of trouble are we getting up to this year? School year is shaping up to be hella boring and we need to fix that.

The text from Aspen had the corner of her lips tugging into a smile. Ms. Cartwright cleared her throat and had Esmeralda return her phone to the pocket in her blazer. Curious eyes roamed the room while Janelle took a seat at her desk.

The office hadn’t looked any different than it did weeks ago. Emotions ran high amongst the students and peers that were close with the boy Esmeralda didn’t know existed beforehand.

Her gaze lingered on the decorations Janelle had put around her office. She was the youngest headmaster they’ve ever appointed– in Esmeralda’s opinion she shouldn’t have gotten the job based on her qualifications.

A photo of Janelle and another woman stared back at Esme. Perhaps she’d gotten the job on connections alone. A familiar face caught her eye and her gaze lingered on the boy.

“Esme,”

Janelle’s voice brought Esmeralda out of the daze she’d thrown herself in and they met eyes. Annoyance apparent on the younger girl’s face. “We’ve done this already, I don’t know anything about Jason– I don’t even know the kid. Very different social circles.” Esmeralda gestured to herself and her subtle point said more than words could.

The wards shouldn’t have allowed a manticore to be that close to school grounds in the first place– not to mention that manticores weren’t known for draining. It was a miracle that Jason wasn’t in pieces.

“This meeting isn’t about Jason.” Her eyebrow cocked and Esmeralda begrudgingly took a seat across from her. “I’ve talked with your parents.” The brunette sat a little straighter. “And?” The grandfather clock ticked in the background, making the anticipation for her next words all the more worse.

A long silence sat between them in the office. Another student in Mrs. Jacobs' classroom admitted to witnessing Esme cast the spell that set fire to Mrs. Jacobs.

“I’ve talked with your parents.”

“... and?”

“They think it’s best if you were to be put in a certain curriculum… with kids like you.”

“You mean my father thinks it’s best.” Esme corrected, she’d spent years vying for his attention, challenging herself intellectually and magically only to be met with a strained smile in return.

“Your mother as well.”

She blinked.

Esme spoke softly, “I– I did it on purpose. I… wanted Mrs. Jacobs to…” Her brows furrowed and averted her gaze from Janelle, picking at the black paint on her nails while she racked her brain to replace the silence with.

“You didn’t do it on purpose. We both know that.”

She met her gaze defeatedly. “Suspend me.”

“What?”

“Suspend me. I’d rather be suspended or– or even expelled. I don’t need a fucking 504 plan or whatever you wanna call it. I’m not broken.”

“Language-- and you’re not broken, Esme.”

Her jaw clenched and Esme corrected herself. “Do you know what people would say?”

The curriculum was filled with problematic and troubled students– mainly those younger than her. The embarrassment would eat her alive.

“It’d be more than just a passing insult. It’d be more than just a look in the hallway– they’d actually have a reason, no, they’d actually have solid proof that I’m–” The words died on her lips and she returned her gaze back to her hands she continued to fiddle with.

“Don’t turn away help, the school is more than willing to offer it to you–” Janelle took a beat, her eyes softening for a mere moment.

“Let me help you.”

Esmeralda’s gaze darted from Janelle to the floor consistently. The hesitation was more evident than the tears that began to swell in her eyes.

“No, I don’t need help.”

“Esme,”

“I said–” She sat up straighter, making the eye contact she’d fought so hard not to moments earlier. Any emotion was glazed over with a different sense of determination. “No.” She repeated in a harsher tone than before.

“They told me you gained control over break,” The tension in Esme’s shoulders relaxed and the sound of the grandfather clock had suddenly disappeared. The only things heard were their own voices as they conversed.

“I have.” Esme said collectedly, a more poised and different manner compared to their other meetings.

“Congratulations.”

“Is this the part where you say you’re proud of me?” She asked, a hint of a grin playing on the edges of her lips. The blonde put on a strained smile that seemed all too familiar and Esme’s demeanor changed from relaxed to defensive in seconds.

“The incident last year,”

“The incident I apologized for,” her correction went unnoticed and Janelle continued.

“Mrs. Jacobs had come to me before the start of the term, explaining that you’ve had trouble in class before the–”

“But now that I have control–”

“And to avoid–”

“It won’t happen again–”

“Esmeralda.” The headmaster's voice raised and had Esmeralda go silent. Swallowing her pride along with the many excuses she’d thought up in the matter of twelve seconds.

“I’m enforcing mandatory meetings with the guidance counselor–” Esme was about to speak when Janelle put a hand up. “As I am with a selection of students. The start of the term had been stressful for everybody, emotions are–”

“I said I didn’t know him.”

“I know that. But from what I’ve heard, you’ve been going through a lot of changes this year. And with your history with magic, I feel like it’s best to have somebody you can trust. Someone that isn’t your peers.”

“And I feel like I’m doing very well, actually.”

There was a moment where Janelle eyed her. Freshly manicured nails tapped on the desk.

“Even after the breakup?”

Her words had sparked an anger in Esme. She leaned closer to the desk. “I know it’s been a while since you were young, so I’ll refresh your memory–”

“No need. As a precaution, I’m assigning mandated meetings with Mr. Branham. He’s new but trained and insightful, I think the both of you will benefit from–”

Esmeralda let out a dry laugh. “Trained and insightful? Well at least he has a PHD. I was almost worried–”

Janelle had cut her off. Rambling about the importance of mental health and confiding in somebody when the lack of; could set her back extravagantly.

Janelle continued even when she stood up from the chair. Her words were completely drowned out by the voice that continued to penetrate her thoughts.

She's lying.

Esme reached the door and the only words from Janelle that’d gotten through was;

“We’re on your side, Esme.”

The blonde had a hopeful glint in her eye which made Esme believe Janelle was delusional if she thought this meeting was successful.

You know she isn’t. You know she's in hot water with the council after a student’s death and she’s pushing to get on their good side with psychiatrists and safer curriculums.

She spoke down to you the entire time.

She looks at you and sees the girl who can’t handle a spark of magic. Let alone the powers you are entitled to.

Another picture had caught her eye. It was a photo of Janelle and Dana. It felt like Dana was taunting her– as if she was watching this entire conversation and she couldn’t help but smile.

While she seemed genuine-- Dana Cartwright wasn't. You'd have to be a complete idiot to believe she was.

It seemed to run in the family.

Esme tore her gaze away and met Janelle’s with the same strained smile that was so common in the people around her.

“You know, the amount of times you repeat that– the less I believe it.”
_

She exited the room already glued to her phone. Texting Aspen back with an idea to “ruin” Dana’s tryouts later in the day– Esme’s motive was deeper than the subtle inconvenience she wanted to impose on the headmaster.

Dana Cartwright was the second most hated person in school– from Esme’s point of view that is.

They had an interesting relationship but it wasn’t strong enough to be at the top of Esmeralda Hearthstone’s hitlist.

Public enemy number one was reserved for one very special person.

“Veronika!” Esme spoke, surprised by her sudden appearance.

It was clear she interrupted their conversation, which had only made this all the better. She looked between the two and the lack of a rose brooch pinned to Veronika’s lapel had reminded Esme of just how excited she was to see the Hawthorne again.

“The meeting went well– not that you asked,” Esmeralda reassured her brother and returned her attention to Veronika.

The previous smile faded and suddenly her features turned quizzical. “Something is different about you Veronika. I’m not quite sure what it is…” She shrugged nonchalantly, walking past her before suddenly stopping to a halt.

“I know!” Esme gasped, turning on her heel to face her. “You got a haircut, didn’t you? A few extra layers?” She held back the urge to reach for her brown locks. Deciding that becoming a tad-too touchy would somehow ruin her entire act.

Her eyes searched Veronika’s as if she was waiting for her to make the connection.

Three… two…

You’re a smart girl, connect the dots.

Light blue eyes finally found the brooch that laid on the right side of Esme’s blazer.

Her smile returned brighter than ever and the satisfaction was evident on her face.

“Yeah,” She said softly, “a haircut, that must be it.” Esme studied her reaction closely before dropping her attention to her brother beside them.

“Ms. Cartwright seemed awfully stressed, might want to give her a minute before heading in, brother.” She ignored Veronika, settling on a quick thinned smile given to Ezra for a goodbye.
_

They had very dominant features.

Esme's head cocked to one side as she adjusted herself on the stool and continued to sketch the outline of their face shape. Students began to filter into the classroom and Esmeralda barely noticed any besides a passing glance to those who entered her space.

She had a good memory.

Recalling moments and recreating them in her own viewpoint wasn’t uncommon– it became somewhat of a habit when she was a little girl. They were heavily detailed and scenes were framed side by side to capture each essence of emotion she picked up on besides her own.

Uncertainty.

Shock.

Anger.

Anger she resonated with particularly well. It was the easiest emotion she had the ability to recreate on paper– it was one that held the most weight out of the many.

Anger settled with those in one of three ways; by the end of it, the person was either defeated, determined, or–

“Destructive.” She spoke aloud to herself, a furrow in her brow as she realized colored pencils weren't in her bag. The bell rang and Mrs. Jacobs quickly took action. Her hair was shorter now-- something Esme noticed instantly.

"Okay! Let's get started..." The teacher's voice was tuned out as Esme lost herself in the world that was paper.

































killshot



MAGDALENA BAY










♡coded by uxie♡
 



riley.





































  • mood



    who knows honestly


















There were two parts of him, Riley supposed.

The part that was every bit a Fitzgerald, the family who had made a vow to the Council during the which trials in order to save their cursed bloodline. The part that had been trained from the moment he could walk to not sleep, eat or breathe unless the Council said so. That part of Riley kept his head high, his shoulders back, and a lazy smile on his face as he strode through campus, back for his junior year.

Then there was the other part.

The part that had glimpsed the painted ceilings of the Sistine Chapel while on a job in Vatican City and had to hold back tears and the part that saw a rogue vampire they were hunting down give the clothes off his back to an orphan in the Maldives just before they staked him. The part that closed its eyes and sighed at the smell of crushed nutmeg and cinnamon and cloves, that loved the smell of baking bread and the hands that kneaded the dough. The part that wondered at the way waves crashed against a particularly steep shoreline and sounded like the thundering of a thousand hoof beats. Yes, he lived and served and would die for the Council, for the family he was born into, but that part of him…

That part of him whispered in his ear as he observed everyone he passed, careful never to get too close and brush them by accident.

Oftentimes, he dreamed of moving somewhere far, far away.

It was nice to dream.

Of all the rooms in the crumbling structures of Nightshade, Riley loved the music practice room the best.

Perhaps it was because the room, located at the very pinnacle of the pale- stoned tower of the music building and its sprawling complex below, had unparalleled views of the valleys and rivers Nightshade’s property encompassed.

Perhaps it was because this was the place where he’d felt the first shred of normalcy in nearly fifteen years. The place he’d had first looked upon the vaulted ceilings and out the big bay window at the world below, and had felt at peace. Untouchable.

It had been over two years since then.

He sat on the edge of the stage now, as he had been for several hours, fingers picking idly at the strings of his acoustic guitar.

The instrument was nothing special, something he’d picked up at an antique store by his home in town after he’d gone on his first job with his brothers when he was thirteen.

It was the first thing he’d ever bought for himself.

It was simply made, out of thick, hardy chestnut and stained a deep, blood red color. He’d gone through several sets of strings in the years he’d been playing, but the frame—it was exactly how it had been the day he’d purchased it.

The store owner seem saddened, for some reason, to let it go, but Riley had forked over the $100 it had been to the store owner and carted it home with him, strapped to his back for the several blocks it took to walk to his house.

Later, when he’d taken it out of its case to play it, he found a note slipped inside, the paper it was written on curling and yellow around the edges.

To Laurel -

Upon hearing of the unfortunate accident that led to your beloved guitar breaking, I set out immediately to craft a new one, hopefully worthy of your skill.

Every ounce of love I have in my heart for you in ingrained in this wood. I hope it’s to your liking.

Always and forever,

Jakob Blaine, 1951.

He’d known he’d made the right decision then. He kept the note where he found it, in a small pocket inside the case. Riley took it out and read it every now and again, fingers gliding across the inked surface, wishing, for once, that his powers would work on objects as well.

He wanted to know them—Laurel and Jakob. To get a glimpse into the life of two people so different from him, but alike in the ways that mattered.

He never would, so instead he hoped that by playing this guitar, by reading their note and remembering that music meant love and that love was music, maybe they’d live on for just a little longer.

With a sigh, Riley placed the guitar carefully back into its resting spot in the case and picked it up, moving to exit the room.

When he’d reached the doors and pushed them open, he nearly barged into Axel Jericho, two time senior, who was on his way into the room.

“Oh, hey man,” the older boy spoke, offering him a small smile.

They two hadn’t talked much in the time Riley had been attending the school, though it wasn’t through any dislike in either of their parts.

As Riley ducked under the arm that held the door open, careful to not make contact, he shot Axel a smile back.

“Hey, Axel,” he greeted, stopping a safe few steps away from the shifter. “Sorry about that, the doors here should have a lethal weapon warning on them, I swear.”

It was his sorry attempt at a joke, but…it was a start. He didn’t want to scare him away just yet.

He could certainly use all the friends he could get where he had them.

“Gettin’ some practice in for your band, or what?” He asked, shifting his guitar from one shoulder to another and stuffing a stray pick into his pocket.

“It should be quiet in there, I’ve been the only one around for hours.”



































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:



emersyn.





































  • mood



    reminiscent -> prying

















Flattery was & continued to be Roman’s specialty, and Emersyn wouldn’t deny how much she loved that about the singer. He was witty, sharp tongued and full of himself. In the Hawthorne girl’s eyes, he had every right to be. To look like Roman, the hair, the eyes, the body-

Emersyn’s core tightened at that thought. It was one that she didn’t often let herself unpack; memories of waking up countless mornings skin to skin, breath to breath, the image of drunkenly stumbling home having poorly sung their hearts out on the walk back to the dorms. Her arm around his shoulders, his around her waist. Roman was fun, he had always been fun, but something about those mornings, that brand of stillness permanently ingrained into that file of her mind… it was a little too comfortable. And comfort wasn’t something that the Hawthorne girl strived for. Comfort only met the slow death of a fast life, and who wanted that?

And though she would never give the brunette boy the satisfaction, he wasn’t totally wrong in his assumption of solidifying her type. Emersyn had never been into musicians before Roman. Not when every single one she had ever been burdened with was a fake man with a little ego & too much hairspray. They were annoying, whiny, helpless. Not Roman. Roman was a different brand of confidence; he knew what he looked like & knew how to use it. It was invigorating to meet someone who could match her wit, who could take a joke & throw it back. Roman was the kind of musician you think they all are, and yet, he was a stand alone in his own right. So her time in Los Angeles was spent chasing that feeling, that match of energy that was easy & light.

He was also nothing more than a friend to harmlessly flirt with now. For a moment, she could hear the screaming in her ears, the deafening plea of her conscience begging her to cut it out, telling her he was just a boy & there were plenty more. She scoffed almost inaudibly to herself; as if she didn’t know the trouble she would get into this semester and be glad it was with new people, different people, people that weren’t Roman. Though the touch of his thumb on her shin sent miniature wildfires through her skin.

“I’m not saying you look terrible, you just don’t look… rested,” Emersyn recovered as the back & forth motion of Roman’s thumbpad halted, his eyes throwing daggers that were easily reflected with her playful smile. The brunette pushed his arm, ease flowing back through her.

One fluid motion pushed her off the Camaro’s trunk as Roman glided off as well, taking the two quick steps to her BMW’s trunk and popping it open. She hauled up a box labeled ‘music shit’ and set it gently in the boy’s arms before grabbing her suitcase and a large black backpack. She would return for the other suitcase & two more boxes later. “Thanks for the help though. Even if you’re using it as an excuse to not go back to your own dorm.”

Emersyn knew all about Sylvia, how Roman had entered into something of a relationship, how he had used her as an excuse not to come out to Los Angeles. She figured that they’d called it off somewhat recently, and when she went to check her dorm number, couldn’t help but chuckle at who her ex-fling had been saddled with as a roommate.

“So who do you think has it out for you anyway? Shit like that doesn’t happen unless you’ve pissed off someone important, Ro.”

The question was rhetorical, making a giggle bubble up from deep in her diaphragm, bouncing off the concrete stairwell. Ascending the stairs of her dorm building, turning the corner & popping open the door, Emersyn sighed at how dull the grey-walled prison cell was. No matter how many years she spent in these boxes, she couldn’t help the sadness that came along with entering them for the first time. “You can set that wherever,” She sighed, striding to her room and haphazardly tossing in the items she had carried up. “They really need to do something about these, they’re depressing,”
Gesturing to the general area of her new living space, Emersyn plopped down on the couch. It was scratchy, plush but not exactly comfortable. Ignoring it, she turned back to her friend with a wicked smile. “So tell me, Roman,” her voice dripped with a playful sort of venom, not one that would bite, but one that would inflict a reaction. She’d been dying to bring it up, dying to know just what it was about the little water fairy that had captured Roman’s attention then sunk him below the surface, into a ‘relationship’. The word alone made Emersyn want to gag. He should’ve just taken the flight to the states, should’ve ran, but he didn’t. And it was so… unlike him.

Patting the space beside her with a manicured hand, black nails exaggerated against the light grey of the couch, she tilted her head to the side. Sage green eyes playful & knowing. “How’re you planning on dealing with having an ex-girlfriend as a roommate? Sounds like new territory all the way around for you. Didn't know without me here, you'd give up on fun & start having picnics by the river,”

Perhaps part of it was wanting to know what happened there, what compelled the rockstar to become mundane & maybe boring. Perhaps it was her own avoidance of starting to unpack, not wanting to settle in just yet because then it would feel permanent. Only one of the Hawthorne girl’s loved school, and Emersyn wasn’t it. Though the loud, echoing ring of the copper bell that loomed above the school shouted that it was time for class.


































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 



veronika.





































  • mood



    ):<
















Veronika followed Ezra’s gesture, pale eyes observing the space they inhabited—it felt oddly disconnected from the rest of the school, dorm building aside. The intricate stonework adorning the walls outside didn’t exist within the office; instead, it had been tarnished by time as some lame excuse to seem modern—the grey, plastic chairs; gurgling water cooler; and potted plants with limp, drooping leaves tinted a green that was just a hint too bright to be believable. The Academy had a dim and dreary atmosphere at best, but Veronika found this much worse.

Pursing her lips, Veronika allowed a small, half-hearted chuckle to escape. “Right,” she said. “Yeah, of course.”

No one in their right mind would’ve willingly spent their time in such an area.

Veronika could have continued on the search for her brooch, but her feet refused to take her any further into the office beyond the few steps she’d made into it. Just down the hall in front of her and to the left was the room containing the lost and found box, but the idea of rifling through it was degrading enough without Ezra knowing she’d done it. Now, she felt obligated to wait until he left to do so. Her other option was taking a seat and pretending that she, too, had a scheduled meeting with Ms. Cartwright, but before she could make a move toward the chairs, the door to the Headmistress’s office opened and Esmeralda joined the pair.

At the shrill call of her name, Veronika bristled, turning toward the source. Esme had changed over the summer—silent, judging looks had become snide smiles and an air of confidence that Veronika knew promised trouble.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Veronika defended, brow furrowing as she watched Esme pass. She wasn’t sure what the younger Hearthstone was getting at, but she was certain the girl had underlying motives besides making oddly civil small talk.

Veronika’s hand came up, pale, slender fingers fiddling absentmindedly at a piece of her dark hair that lay draped over her shoulder. “No. I—”

The accessory sparkling on Esmeralda’s blazer grabbed Veronika’s attention, derailing her train of thought and stealing away the rest of her sentence. The corners of Veronika’s mouth turned downward into a scowl as realization set in.

Of course.

The Hawthorne girl didn’t know how exactly Esme had come to be in possession of her brooch, and she had half a mind to reach forward and snatch it off of the younger girl’s person, if not for the scene it would cause. Instead, Veronika crossed her arms, containing her hands before they could act of their own accord. “You must be mistaken, then,” she replied coldly.

For someone carrying a knife, Veronika was being tested quite regularly. It was a good thing she wasn’t often subjected to the severity of her emotions, which was more than some of her present company could say; if it was up to Veronika, there would have been a harsher punishment for those that set people on fire for not getting their way.

Without another word to either Hearthstone, Veronika exited the office just as the bell sounded for their first class of the day, meaning any plan she could concoct to retrieve her pin would have to be postponed for the time being.

































anti-hero



taylor swift










♡coded by uxie♡
 



desirae.





































  • mood



    what the fuck.


















Desirae stood at the head of her father’s office table, manicured hands clasped tightly behind her back. A ghost of the claws she should have been able to summon.

The man had summoned her into the room moments before, but hadn’t yet said a word or asked her to sit down. Such games were his favorite way of toying with her. A few years ago, she might have said something about it. Made some snarky remark about how he was wasting her time.

But she could play, too. She was his daughter after all.

So Desirae stood before the table and waited, dark eyes flicking back and forth as she watched her father leaf through various, probably unimportant paperwork.

“You’re quiet this morning, Desirae,” the greying man spoke, never once looking up from his files. “No scathing remarks for your old man this morning, huh?”

She blinked.

“I was waiting for you to speak, father.”

Black eyes slid to hers, eyebrows raised. “Right.”

Desirae tensed instinctively. He was her own father, yes…but the Mayfield family head had always intimidated her. He’d never been just her father.

Jonathan resumed browsing his paperwork. Des had been in her father’s office only a handful of times in her life. They could be a family home on their own, with a private restroom, a bar, a couch in front of an ancient fireplace and a balcony that overlooked their manor’s entire estate.

She returned her honey eyed gaze to her father to find him watching her, the golden rays of morning sunlight that came streaming in through the French doors outside highlighting the jagged scar that slashed across his face. “You return to school today.”

Desirae fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes, I’m aware. I didn’t just think your staff was packing up all my belongings because you were kicking me out, or whatever,” she deadpanned, unable to contain herself any longer.

She decided she hated playing his games.

Des knew she should keep quiet, but she couldn’t help but to add: “I’m sure you’ll be glad to have me away for a while.”

Jonathan merely shot her a small, vicious smile. “Perhaps you’ll shift this year, dear. It is your senior year after all.”

She shared blood with this man. Anger, sharp and hot burned in her throat. She turned on one heel and walked out, not looking back once.

“Fuck you.”

—

Her fingers didn’t stop shaking the entire 16 hour flight to Ireland. Her racing thoughts didn’t settle until the driver who’d been ordered to ensure she arrived at the school dropped her off out front, nodding his head in a goodbye.

As she stomped past the granite boulders just before the weathered stone gates marked with whorls and swirls—markers of the wards that surrounded the school—she felt the familiar zip of magic on her skin as the school came into view. Students milled about on the luscious green lawn, catching up with people they hadn’t seen since the school’s closure or introducing themselves to Nightshade’s newest prisoners.

She aimed for the building on the left, where her dorm would be located. All of her belongings were currently being carted to her room, which she had the unfortunate displeasure of sharing with Esmeralda Hearthstone this year.

Des wasn’t sure if the Shade or her older brother, Ezra, was worse, but the entire family was known to be insufferable and difficult.

As she neared her destination, a familiar brunette head approached her, and Desirae was unable to prevent a groan from escaping from between her glossed lips.

Davina fucking Jacobs.

The vampire had been her best friend their freshman year. Assigned roommates, the two had quickly become inseparable, and for the first time in her life, Des had had a friend she could rely on.

She’d known of the vampire’s dislike of werewolves, but not wanting to risk losing their friendship, Des had kept her heritage a secret. It wasn’t hard, with her stupid inability to complete a shift.

She’d told Davina everything—every dirty little secret she had. Including the addiction that had almost taken her life that year. Secrets always come out, she soon learned and when Davina found out what she was…

It was like the entire world had to pay for what Desirae had done.

It had been over two years since then, and Davina had all but disappeared after exposing Des’ habits to the school and her parents, but it seemed the brunette was back for blood.

And Desirae was first on her list.

"Wow! So they haven't relocated all the strays to a pound yet? I'm a little disappointed," Davina commented, a nasty little smirk lighting up her face. "At least tell me they make flea baths a weekly thing now. I wouldn't want one biting me in my sleep or something.”

Bitch.

A scowl quickly made its way to Desirae’s face as she crossed her arms, stopping in her tracks.

“Did you make a wrong turn or something, Davina? The asylum is down the road a few miles,” the wolf replied, arching a groomed eyebrow.

Then, she made a show of looking around them, face a careful mask of sarcastic surprise. “And no armed security? They really should be more careful about letting psychopaths onto campus.”

Poison dripped from her voice, masking the hurt and anger that had bubbled up in her gut.

Of course Davina was fucking back.



































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:



khalani.





































  • mood



    amused -> ecstatic

















“Is it a question because you’re unsure of your name?” Khal’s chuckle came from low in her throat as she exited her room once again, the young brunette still not moving from his place on the couch, still not breaking eye contact with the chimera cat that perched on the arm of the opposite end. A cool half smile filtered onto the junior’s lips as blue eyes looked in her direction, as if Squid was just as confused by the male’s fear as she was. The cat was harmless, shifter or not. Though she supposed normalcy wasn’t something to expect when it came to the students of Nightshade.

Pulling her door shut and locking it behind her, the witch glided across the living space to give her feline friend a little scratch under the chin, the animal instantly purring at her owner’s touch. “Not to be a bore, but I’ll need my sleep,” A heavy sigh fell from Khal’s lips. She couldn't have the younger student bringing the party back home, and her tone ensured he knew what she meant. Entering the kitchen, pulling out her phone & greeted with two messages from Kai. A slight warmth dropped down into her otherwise cold exterior, a genuine grin tempting her lips, though she pressed them down into a line. Nimble hands made quick work of plucking some of the snickerdoodles & chocolate macadamia from the white ceramic serving plate, bamboo shoots hand painted around it’s edges by Mrs. Noh herself. Her mother’s affinity for art was the only serene thing about her… the woman knew no peace outside of her art studio.

Zipping up the gallon sized plastic bag, enough cookies for a small army inside, Khal swiped some crumbs from the counter into her hand & dumped them into the sink, rinsing away the evidence of her haste. “Don’t stare at her for too long Aspen, you’ll trigger her fight response,” A swift movement had Khal’s leather bag on her shoulders, cookie bag neatly in hand and phone shoved into her back pocket. Reaching for the door handle, she paused, onyx eyes slitted into a knowing stare as they fixed onto Aspen. “Also, I know you’re little… arrangement… with Esme. Stay out of my stuff, stay out of the Ward’s room. Sound good?” Her voice was soft but tinged with poison, each word truthful & threatening to its receiver. When Khal wanted to be unsettling, it wasn’t a hard thing for her to muster. And she was well aware of her best friend’s connection to her pickpocket of a new roommate.

Finished with her idle scorns, Khal slipped out the door and bumped her bag higher onto her shoulders. Quick feet weaved through mounds of students, all looking for dorms or classrooms or the headmaster’s office. None of them mattered, Khal was on a mission to see the only two people at Nightshade that could possibly keep her sane through this year, the only two people that could actually understand the weight that was thrown onto her shoulders on that day she came into the world, when her birth certificate was signed with the last name Noh.

Well, Malachi understood… both him & Khal had done their best to shield Shiloh from the crushing expectations that came with being in a powerful, ancient secular family.

Rounding a corner and easily one-two stepping up a flight of dormitory stairs, Khal’s black eyes showed a hint of light as she stared at the backs of the closest thing she had to family here.

“Someone got taller,” Khal swallowed down the squeal that wanted to break loose, composing herself. She was excited, yes. But she wouldn’t dare be annoying about it. Shiloh turned first, a wide & childish smile instantly appearing on her lips. Shiloh was the spitting image of her mother, but with a much gentler heart. Meredith was a saint… and she expected much of her offspring. “And beautiful,” Lither arms reached for the younger girl, pulling her into a hug before handing her the bag of cookies. Khal couldn’t help the genuine, light laugh that escaped as she watched Shiloh’s eyes grow wide, her fingers fiddlings with the plastic prison that held the sweets hostage.

Finally, Khal’s gaze shifted to Malachi. He too had grown a bit over the summer. His six-foot-three frame seemed… prouder. He stood a little straighter, green eyes backlit with what she could only hope was happiness for her presence. The prominent, thick black streaks of ink along his neck seemed to have grown with him, though she knew it was impossible. Despite everything, he was still him. And that in itself seemed to soothe a fraction of the stress that was weighing the Koren secular down.

“You don’t look so bad either, stranger,” A full blown grin blew open along Khal’s mouth as she playfully shoved her childhood friend, surprised at how toned he seemed. Where did he find time to work out? How did he weave that into the endless lessons he knew his mother had put him through over the break? “A little tired maybe, in need of some ramen and maybe a little wh-”

Shiloh didn’t know about the drinking… and she wouldn’t. At least not yet. Cutting herself off, eyes growing slightly wide at the mistake she almost made, Khal glued her gaze to her friend. It took everything in her not to laugh, though she kept her composure. “We need to go out to eat. Soon.”

Her recovery wasn’t wonderful, but lying had never been Khal’s strong suit. Shrugging it off, the brunette slid to the Ward boy’s side and draped an arm around his middle in a side hug, slotting into his side as her shoulders began settling down her back at how comfortable she was around her two chosen family members. “It’s nice to see you though, Kai.”



































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 
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ezrael.





































  • mood



    really?


















In all the time that Ezra had known Veronika, he’d never heard her laugh once.

But that was a chuckle, bubbling up in her chest and flowing from between her lips like the streams that crisscrossed town at his joke.

He wasn’t sure why, but some small part of him was filled with male satisfaction at the sound.

And wasn’t that a lovely change from the stares and glares and whispered insults that had followed him around everywhere he went for the last ten or so years of his life.

“Right,” she said quietly. “Yeah, of course.”

Normally, he would have had some remark dripping with sarcasm to shoot back at her, but they were interrupted by Esme charging out of the headmaster’s office, like a bat out of hell. She seemed upset, probably over something Janelle had told her in their meeting. He decided he’d ask about it later.

His sister’s expression very quickly went from displeasure to self satisfaction as she took in Veronika, the more tolerable of the two Hawthornes name ringing from her mouth like the bells in the tower on campus.

He watched, silent and confused, as Esme began to circle Veronika like a shark circles its prey, a vicious grin on the younger Hearthstone’s angelic face.

He saw Veronika’s eyes land on the brooch a second before his did, and the connection wasn’t hard to make. So this is where Esme had gotten the brooch.

He was unable to prevent his mouth from pressing down into a scowl as he waited for Veronika to do something. Say something.

He was only met with disappointment, however, as his fellow senior merely turned on a heel and stomped away, obviously not looking to deal with Esme at the given moment.

A smart choice.

“Well,” Ezra spoke at last, grey eyes meeting his sister’s. “I hope you’re proud of yourself. Mission accomplished, right?”

A cough sounded from behind them and he turned to see Janelle standing in the doorway of her office. She was ready for him.

He stood from his seated position, shot Esme a scowl and a warning look that said; don’t get into any more shit and entered the office, the wooden door swinging closed behind him.

“You can have a seat,” Janelle said, inclining her head at the chair positioned in front of her desk before taking a seat herself.

“Your grades last semester before we closed early for the year, Ezrael,” Ms. Cartwright spoke, leafing through a file full of documents, the contents of which Ezra could not see, “were commendable. Things are all lining up nicely for your graduation this spring.”

Ezra’s hands gripped the arms of the blue cushioned chair he sat in, knuckles white. He didn’t want to think about graduation.

He didn’t want to think about the responsibilities that his parents and everyone around him liked to add to the pile of shit he was already dealing with everyday.

He nodded.

“I know your parents had mentioned something about understudying one of the Council members this year,” the headmaster pressed on, adjusting a tiny wooden figurine of a badger on her desk before meeting his grey-green eyes. “I‘ve put in a word of recommendation with their leader, Gabriel. He’s given the go ahead for you to begin apprenticeship immediately.”

Silence followed. Ezra blinked. Once. Twice. He suddenly found it very hard to breathe, like all of the oxygen had been sucked from the room.

Ms. Cartwright sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with manicured fingers. “This is a huge offer, Ezrael. I’d like some sort of response.”

In all honesty, there was a ringing in his ears and pressure in his head like nothing he’d ever experienced before, rendering him unable to speak. A drop of sweat slid down his temple, and Ezra blinked again, desperate to shake some of the fog from his eyes.

“If that’s what my parents mentioned,” he ground out slowly, “then I suppose that’s the plan, no?”

Another exasperated sigh followed.

“Great, then I’ll notify the Council right away. I’m sure your parents will be overjoyed,” the woman announced, closing the file.

“Great, so if that’s all, I have some stuff to do,” Ezra said, rising from his seated position. He was halfway out the door and into the hall before she spoke again.

“Oh, and Mr. Hearthstone?”

He paused for a moment, looking over his shoulder at the auburn haired woman expectantly.

“I expect you’ll keep a close eye on your sister, no?”

He left the room without another word.


































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 
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roman.





































  • mood



    all over the place tbh
















“Nice save, Em,” Roman said with a snort, tipping sideways dramatically at Emersyn’s playful shove, clutching the spot on his arm she’d made contact with before a hand shot out to keep from toppling out of the trunk altogether. “So intent on wounding me today,” he mused, clicking his tongue, faux disappointment scribbled across his features.

The exaggerated antics were nothing but a lame attempt at distraction—though whether it was directed at Emersyn or himself, he didn’t know—because she was right. In the weeks leading up to his return to Nightshade, the anxiety had been building, and ever since stepping foot on campus, Roman’s mental state had only worsened. He reasoned that if he could pretend to be alright for long enough, it would eventually prove to be true, but in the meantime, he’d have to overcompensate for his declining state using whatever methods he knew how, only one of which was appropriate for the current situation.

Roman waited for Emersyn to follow suit in getting up, then pushed the trunk lid shut and trailed after her the short distance to where her car was parked in the space beside his. It was a stark contrast—while the red Camaro he drove was noticeably disregarded in terms of upkeep, Emersyn’s vehicle was sleek and shiny. They were somewhat reflective of their drivers—Roman was sloppy in an endearing and familiar way, but the only thing messy about the Hawthorne girl was her reputation.

Smiling, Roman easily took the box that Emersyn handed to him. “You think that’s the only reason we’re hanging out?” he asked teasingly. “I’ve failed you somewhere. I’m always ready to help a friend in need.”

Friend. It felt weird to say out loud, given what it implied. Roman didn’t think he liked it.

Emersyn’s question nearly caused Roman to trip, the toe of his sneaker bumping into one of the many concrete stairs they’d been ascending toward her dorm room. He exhaled, something between exasperation and a laugh. “I wish I knew,” he admitted, “but honestly, it’s getting hard to keep track. At this point, there’s gotta be multiple people comparing notes.”

Roman ducked into Emersyn’s room, taking the door from her grasp as he passed. He set the box down on the floor by the end of the couch at the girl’s prompting, taking in their surroundings. He hummed in agreement, though he probably wouldn’t have noticed if Emersyn hadn’t mentioned it. To be honest, he had more pressing matters on his mind than the Academy’s dorms’ dire need for a makeover.

Coming to a stop in front of Emersyn, Roman stared down at her with curiosity dancing in his amber eyes, brows raised expectantly as he waited for her to continue. The mischievous expression on the girl’s face and her taunting tone didn’t go unnoticed by Roman, and he couldn’t help but grin. “Tell you what?” he urged, leaning forward with a tilt of his head, arms crossing across his chest.

Roman’s gaze shifted to where Emersyn patted the seat next to hers as an invitation for him to join her on the couch. Gently, he plucked her hand off of the cushion to make room for himself, absentmindedly fiddling with her fingers as he sat back.

“That’s a good fucking question,” Roman responded, shaking his head. “My working plan is to avoid the room at all costs. Maybe I’ll sleep in the hall.”

He’d never intended to get involved with someone as deeply as he had with Sylvia—that had been the whole point of breaking things off between him and Emersyn in the first place. That’s what Roman had told her, anyway. He hadn’t wanted to feel emotionally tied down to one person, yet something about the water elemental had taken him by surprise—one false step, and he’d gotten swept up in her rip current. Truthfully, he’d been curious about her. She’d seemed so innocent—vastly different from what he was used to and probably not as much now as she had been then—and he’d wanted a glimpse into that other world for a moment, if for no other reason to say that he’d seen and experienced it all briefly.

Sylvia was pretty and sweet—too sweet sometimes—but that was only one side of her. Now that Roman was no longer in her good graces, he dreaded the days ahead of him.

“It was…different,” Roman explained, “but not a good fit for me. Obviously.”

Overhead, the bell rang to signal the beginning of classes for the day, but neither Emersyn nor Roman paid it any mind.

“Besides,” Roman continued, “I already told you there was no fun going on around here without you. I was making do.”

Aside from the two of them, the dorm was fairly empty, the lack of a roommate’s presence obvious above all else. “Who are you stuck with?” Roman asked. “Anyone of interest?” He’d been so shocked with his own misfortune that he hadn’t even thought to check on his friends’ living situations.

































MAMMAMIA



manëskin










♡coded by uxie♡
 



emersyn.





































  • mood



    she doesn't even know

















‘...there was no fun going on here without you…’

The words echoed once, twice as Emersyn’s sage green gaze fixated on Roman’s hand, his fingers dancing along her own. Intertwining, rolling, pinching. His hands were anything but soft. Calloused from things Emersyn couldn’t think of, rough and rigid. Hands that had adventured to every inch of her skin. Honestly, it was tough for the brunette to drown those thoughts while he was here, being so gentle with hands that she knew were anything but. Roman wasn’t a complicated guy, he never had been. I mean c’mon, he’s a ripped six-foot-nothing singer whose main train of thought runs down south. Emersyn could solve him like a children’s puzzle if she was ever inclined to do so.

But she wasn’t. Not anymore.

“I could’ve told you it wasn’t gonna be a good fit for you,” Emersyn stifled a laugh, a tattooed hand flying to cover her mouth, but the sounds of mockery had already escaped. “Roman, c’mon. Did you think picnics with strawberries & poetry was gonna be your thing?” She couldn’t contain it this time, the bleak room coloring with laughter as she threw her head back, doing her best to not have her hand move from the boy’s next to her.

With her free hand, drapes of espresso were flicked over her shoulder. It was suddenly a little too warm in the room for her liking. “Of course there wasn’t any fun without me,” A scoff pressed up from her throat, a wicked smirk dancing from plump lips up to half-squinted eyes. She pulled her legs up underneath her, tucking in her feet to cross them and gently resting one knee atop of the brunette’s beside her. “Who else is gonna climb up on the bar with you when you’re half blacked out? I’m obviously an essential to you having a good time.”

Good times were the pair’s bread & butter, specifically on show nights. It seemed wherever Roman & Emersyn decided to go, thats where most followed suit. While they were arrogant & crass, they were also fully in touch with their humility. After a couple shots? The term ‘life of the party’ didn’t cut it.

A fleeting thought, Emersyn wondered how going to the band’s shows would be different now. She could probably sneak backstage under Des’ approval, the shifter being something of a twin to the Hawthorne girl. Both brunettes, bad parent relationships, covered in tattoos & lovers of junk food, Des & Em were certainly kindred spirits. When it came to the topic of who to go with…

The thought of bringing Cooper Bailey momentarily drifted into Emersyn’s mind, though as quickly as it came, it was washed away again as she knew what it would entail. Her friend of three years, probably the only one besides Davina that she hadn’t made advances on, Cooper & Roman did nothing to try to hide their disdain for one another. Since the moment the psyche had introduced the two they had glared daggers that could cut glass. The elemental could’ve hated the shade for a number of reasons; Cooper had always been a sort of protector of Emersyn’s, even knowing what & who she liked to do for fun. Roman was never the jealous type, so it stumped her on his end. Still, she could remember that night in the bar like it was branded on her eyes. The haze in the air, the way she had stood between the two men & the tension that formed, how it had been as thick as stone. They’d never like each other, even tolerate one another.

So maybe bringing Cooper was either a stroke of genius, or it would turn out to be a complete disaster.

“Oh uhm,” Images of Cooper, who the Hawthorne girl lovingly referred to as the ‘water fairy’, dissipated like smoke as Roman’s fingers stopped etching along hers. A frown tried & failed to push it’s way onto Emersyn’s mouth, but was blocked by pursed lips. Her shoulders shrugged up and down, her fingers now absentmindedly turning over his fingers inbetween her own. Maybe part of it was Emersyn’s lack of love for stillness. Maybe another was her miniscule need to continue that small, flickering flame of enjoyment that sat deep in her core.

“The sheet said Keenan… I think…” Fuck if she actually knew, she had only glanced at it when her email for the start of the semester was sent. Eyes narrowing as she stared at the cement grey carpet, her head tilted to one side. “Or Kevin? Keaton? It starts with a K. I don’t know him… and me not knowing a man on campus sounds like a fun lil’ adventure.” Her tone was laced with wickedness, a wink shot in Roman’s direction. She knew the singer wasn’t the jealous type, but getting any sort of rise out of him?

Now that was what Emersyn lived for.
































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 
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cora.





































  • mood



    happy?


















The trials had begun, with the scent of smoke.

Four girls—not too much older than herself, if she had to guess, had been burned at the stake and now, the morning after, people gathered around. Four blackened piles of ash were all that remained.

The crows or whoever the Church had hired to clean up their messes had seen to that.

It was Pine Creek as she knew it, yes, but 400 years in the past, when the town was just barely seeing its creeping beginnings and Nightshade was hardly a thought in anyone’s mind.

It was winter, and snow crunched under the feet of people as they walked by, heads low and voices hushed. The usually gurgling streams that crossed town were even more subdued—ice was crusted around the edges and the usually rapid currents were slowed. A brisk mountain wind tore through her like daggers and Cora tucked her freezing hands into her armpits.

The jagged rocky spire of Caine’s Peak watched over the town and its denizens with hateful eyes. Somehow, in this dream world, she could feel its primal energy, washing over her in waves.

She blinked and suddenly she was there, on the mountain, surrounded by tall pine trees and flowering ash woods, the scent of spring heavy in the air. The cold had been replaced by a warm, gentle breeze and the late morning light shining through the branches above her dappled the forest floor in sparkling beams of gold.

Cora stood, facing a small cabin, with a thatched roof and cobbled stone walls. The windows and door were thrown open, blue curtains rustling in the wind.

She took a hesitant step towards the entrance, and then another, until she was standing in the arched entryway.

A young man—her age, he looked to be—was seated at a desk in the corner, chin resting on a pale white hand as he studied some book. Raven dark hair fell across his forehead as his brow wrinkled in concentration.

A fire roared in a clay oven at the back of the space and the smell of something delicious cooking permeated the air.

“Hello?” She asked, stepping further into the space.

She expected him to start, to turn around at her sudden appearance, but he merely continued his reading. Oblivious.

She came up behind him and peered over his shoulder, eyebrows raising as the words came into view, in some language she’d never seen before.

Rough sketches and drawings also lined the yellowing paper, and her eyes followed his finger as they traced along the inked lines.

She hadn’t a clue what it said.

She leaned further over his shoulder and tripped, cursing as her hand landed on his back, connecting with the cloth of his jacket.

The boy merely looked up for a moment, and then behind him, shaking his head before returning to his studies.

You shouldn’t be here, a voice laced with ancient malice hissed and her stomach dropped as she was hurled out of the dream and back into her body.

She lay gasping for air in her bed, tangled in her white blankets. It was morning.

What the hell was that?

—

Cora never thought she’d step foot on Nightshade’s magically charged grounds again. Not after Mariana Hearthstone had made sure that last year, her parents had put her in some private, non-magical school in France.

She’d discovered a new working definition for hell while there.

So, regardless of the horrors she knew awaited her here, a small part of her was glad to be back.

Even if spying Ezra, trailing after his sister Esme earlier that morning across the school grounds had twisted a knife in her gut, pain and anxiety welling up in her chest.

She was in her dorm now, methodically unpacking the totes of luggage she’d brought with her. Cora was working on the bathroom when she heard the door open, so she popped her head out and was greeted by a tall, beautiful tattooed girl.

A grin spread across her face as she approached, sticking out her hand for her roommate to shake.

“Hello Evelyn Rose,” she spoke, pushing back a stray piece of golden blonde hair behind her ear. “I’m Cora. Bentley. Fellow senior. I’m a Shade.”

She’d always had this habit of speaking in little snippets, like she feared she would be interrupted. It had been that way since she was a child, as much as her mother had tried to break the habit.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 
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aspen.





































  • mood



    happy


















Aspen’s face quickly turned from fear to a scowl at his roommate’s question. The cat momentarily forgotten, he crossed his arms and sighed dramatically.

“Of course I’m not unsure of my name,” he quipped, making eye contact. While every part of his screamed to shift and run away at the unbridled dominance he found in her dark eyed gaze, he held his ground.

“And you’re right—that does sound boring,” his scowl slipped into a lopsided grin then, “sleep is for the weak, or didn’t you know?”

He shot a glare at the cat again before returning to the matter at hand, standing from his seated position on the cushy couch. His moods had always shifted to and fro like reeds in a current, such as they were now.

“I’m not sure what you mean by ‘arrangement’, but I don’t want to dig through any of your creepy stuff,” he said plainly another dramatic sigh ensuing. “And trust me—we both know the Wards are far too boring for me to be rifling through theirs either.”

He was quiet for a minute, foot tapping in smug satisfaction as he watched the raven-haired girl for any sign of a reaction.

He didn’t get one.

She left shortly after and Aspen was left with himself, the cat and a creeping sense of boredom that was beginning to frustrate him.

What to do?

His phone lit up from its resting place on the couch’s arm and he snatched it up, reading the notification from Esme.

A grin slowly spread across his sharp features as he he developed a plan. Operation; Lucky Charms would be under way shortly.

He left his room without bothering to lock it behind him and meandered his way to the athletic fields, where all the hopeful would-be athletes were getting into shape last second before tryouts happened for the year.

The air was heavy with the scent of rain, sweat, and unresolved childhood trauma as Aspen approached, keen eyes on the lookout for Dana Cartwright’s familiar head of curly blonde hair.

She was easier to spot than he imagined, running laps around the red tar track. He came to lean against the chain link, chest high fence, content to observe for a moment.

About twelve others were on the track, some running in groups or pairs and others alone. Dana circled the bend coming towards him, and Aspen figured he wouldn’t have a better opportunity than now.

“Confractus,” he muttered, with a flick of the wrist towards her ankle, and her beloved lucky charm, an anklet from god knows where, snapped, falling to the ground. Another quiet word had it slipping away in the wind before she could notice.

He took out his phone, snapped a picture and sent Esme a text, before walking away without a second though.

Done





































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 
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keaton.










































































  • mood






    midly intrigued ---> stuck in the past

































"Iggy you're gonna love your new roommate. I helped Aunt Janelle pick her out just for you."

Keaton shivered. Those were the only words Dana had spoken to him in a month and they haunted his every step as he made his way back to his new living arrangements. He had forgotten his bag and was scrambling in the hopes he'd get there and back before class started. Approaching the door marked 712 he had hoped that it was as empty as it was when he was previously there but he could hear voices, the current occupants deep in a personal, and in his opinion awkward conversation. He was gonna throttle Dana next time he saw her.

Rather than wade through the miasma of the past relationships of strangers, the young Calum had decided that he'd come back later. Preferably when the dorm was empty. The bell had already rung. At this point he'd just be cutting his losses. That was until he had heard his name and couldn't contain himself. How many opportunities did one have to announce themselves like this? Being twenty minutes late never hurt anyone.

"It's Keaton." A lazy grin took shape as he leaned on the doorframe. "I can't say I know much about you either. But I'm not one to turn down a bit of adventure."

It was here that he understood why Dana seemed so pleased with herself. He had half expected her to pair him up with someone he would absolutely loathe or someone she knew would prevent his "relapse". He had to admit he was pleasantly surprised. She was radiant. A raven haired bombshell. She was absolutely his type. A pity that she didn't even fully register to him. His mind had gone elsewhere. To another black haired beauty who seemed to have taken up permanent residency in his thoughts.

"Don't mind me. I'm just here to pick up a few things. I know it's hard but just pretend like I'm not even here. You guys clearly have more than those boxes to unpack."

He entered his room and grabbed his backpack. Its contents weren't all that important save for the journal tucked safely in the front pocket. Its value was entirely sentimental but the idea of it just being left around for any soul to sift through was enough for him to risk being late on the first day.

"I'd love to get to know you better but maybe when you're less… preoccupied?" He let the implication hang as he exited the dorm.



~~~

"Mr. Calum. Glad you could finally join us. You're only…" Mrs. Jacobs looked up at the clock. "Five minutes late. I think this is the earliest you've ever been for my class. Find a seat. We were just about to start demonstrations."

Keaton flashed her a wry smile and did as he was told. Her hair was shorter. He noticed instantly.

Scanning the room for an open seat he found one on the far side of the room beside a brunette who's attention seemed entirely focused on her paper. The feeling of deja vu was overwhelming as he drew closer. His heart figured out why before his mind did. It wasn't until he was a foot away and the brunette turned and looked up at him. When those brown eyes meet his. When he saw 100 emotions swirl behind them all at once. Only then did his mind make the connection.

The dam broke and he drowned in a flood of memories.

Janelle had just given him a lecture about his recklessness. He had gotten into another fight. This time with the son of a council member. She warned him that she couldn't shield him if he attracted their attention. He didn't care. While he walked out of the office she was heading in. He instantly felt the sparks when their eyes met. She'd ruin him and he'd let her.

"Hi Esme." He managed to sputter out after what felt like an eternity of silence.

He was in the library late studying for a test on the history of occultism and ancient magic. He had read the same page five times. He didn't hear her approach until he felt the thud on the table. She said nothing but her eyes said a million things before she walked away. He looked down at the new book and the author, Helena Calum. Of course she knew.

"Is the seat taken or?" All of his earlier bluster evaporated before this girl he had given his entire heart to.

They saw each other here and there for months. He didn't even remember how it happened but they ended up on a date. "Zombie sized chicken or chicken sized zombie?" She asked him. "Chicken sized zombie of course." He responded instantly. Three hours later after arguing intensely she had kissed him and it was here he knew he'd probably love her forever.

"So how was your break? Do anything interesting?" Keaton said, taking the seat as he tried to regain some of his early confidence. He remembered how they broke.

He had heard she set Mrs Jacobs on fire. He knew she probably meant to just embarrass Dana, who seemed to exacerbate her insecurities. She deflected. No accountability whatsoever. "How about you just stop taking out your anger on other people? It's not our fault your magic sucks and you can't control it". He regretted it instantly. Her eyes that held so much light dimmed to darkness.

She was the closest person to him in the world and yet still the furthest. Separated by inches but the gulf felt as endless as the night sky.



































































cry for love






백현




















♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:



malachi.





































  • mood



    happy


















The air inside their dorm was fairly stuffy, and so as Malachi sat down the boxes he was holding captive on the kitchen floor, he opened the large bay window.

He breathed in the chill mists and fresh rain, dragging them deep into his lungs, as if he were taking a drag off of a cigarette. His magic guttered in answer, as if yawning good morning—for a moment, he could see the auras surrounding the birds that flew by and even those of the towering trees that dotted the property—and tumbling back to sleep.

The newest depth to his abilities.

“Sorry you’re kind of stuck with me,” his sister spoke from where she stood, mouth turned down at the corners. “I know it’s not ideal for you.”

It wasn’t ideal to him, but he’d never tell Shiloh that. She’d always concerned herself far too much with the feelings of others before her own, in true Ward fashion.

Her peach colored aura flickered a bit, as she waited for a response. He’d always been able to tell exactly how she was feeling by the colored orb that surrounded her always. He didn’t know if it were a blessing or a curse.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he hummed, flicking her in the nose and grinning. “I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

It was true—as much as he lost certain levels of privacy rooming with his little sister, he worried far too much about her well-being to request a change.

Not to mention Meredith had given him a long winded and probably pointless lecture about how it’s Shi’s first year at the school, and she’s not used to being away from her mother.

Kai fought an eye roll at the thought. While Kai had been thrust into adulthood from the moment he could walk, expected to be perfectly mature and the shining example of what a council member’s offspring should be, Shi had been their mother’s Barbie doll.

He didn’t know which was worse.

“Khal’s already here?” she asked, eyes lighting up with excitement.

And…as a familiar head of night black hair entered through their open door, right on time, his green eyes crinkled in the corners as a lopsided grin broke out across his face.

“Someone got taller,” his childhood friend spoke, pride and soft pleasure lining her face. He stood to the side as he waited for them to greet each other, watching as their violet and peach auras coalesced and moved within each other. “And beautiful.”

Her attention turned to him shortly after and he was unable to keep himself from straightening under her sharp eyed gaze, as he opened his arms to wrap her in a hug.

She’d always been comically small compared to him, and he was able to rest her chin on top of her head as he squeezed her tightly before releasing her, rustling her hair.

He knew it would piss her off.

“You don’t look so bad either, stranger,” she addressed him, stepping back to examine him. “A little tired maybe, in need of some ramen and maybe a little wh-”

His eyes widened a bit as she almost mentioned their whiskey drinking habits. Sure, he didn’t think Shiloh would tell their mother, but she also didn’t need to know that her two biggest role models tended to take shots as a way of coping with the stresses of being the eldest in powerful magical families.

She was able to catch herself, though, and he relaxed a little.

“We need to go out to eat. Soon,” she told him, locking eyes once again. “It’s nice to see you though, Kai.”

The rain picked up, and through the open window he could hear the pitter patter of water slapping the paved sidewalks. It smelled heavenly.

“I am exhausted, call it jet lag,” he replied cooly, fully aware that wasn’t what she meant. “And while Shi grew…I didn’t think it was possible, but I think you got shorter.”

He waited for a reaction, grin growing.

“How’s Squid? I need to see her,” he added. Since the Wards themselves had never been allowed to have pets, he’d always considered her to be, in part, his cat, despite Khalani’s objections.

“And yes…we’re due for dinner. Soon.”


































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:



roman.
































Roman groaned, wrinkling his nose in disgust to hide the embarrassment he felt creeping up his neck. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?” It was impossible for him to be irritated with Emersyn, especially not when she was laughing like that—he’d missed the sound, the way it bubbled up from her throat and spilled out of her pretty lips, as if there was nothing in the world holding her back, and Roman only wished he’d said something funny to prompt the carefree noise instead of it being a response to his—perhaps—bad choices. The only thing he could do now was redirect the conversation to be in his favor, as per usual.

“No, no,” Roman started. “You know what? I bet your flings this summer weren’t totally up to par either, babe, you know, since I wasn’t there and all.”

As they talked, Roman and Emersyn had a way of shifting closer together—first their hands, then Emersyn’s knee bumping into the side of Roman’s. There was an undeniable magnetism about them—subconscious or not, they were drawn to each other like moths to a flame; they could end up burned the longer they allowed themselves to succumb to old habits, but that was all part of the fun.

Speaking of fun, Roman smiled at the memories that Emersyn’s words dredged up.

Chance’s Tavern was buzzing with energy after the band’s performance that night, and so was Roman. Post-show adrenaline and vodka was a dangerous mix, but he was never one to play it safe.

The rest of the party sat sprawled around the bar: to Roman’s immediate right was an empty chair—Wes had gone outside to smoke—but on the other side was Axel, who had Liv perched in his lap. They had gotten together only a month ago and were still deep in their “honeymoon phase,” which Roman hoped they would get out of soon—they were far too lovey-dovey for his taste. Even then, Axel had his face buried in Liv’s neck, both of them giggling like school girls. On Roman’s left sat Emersyn and Des, heads leaned together as if whispering conspiratorially. No one seemed to be paying him any mind, and Roman was just drunk enough to do something about it.

“Hello!” Roman shouted above the music, glancing between his companions. “Remember me? I’m still here!”

Roman brought his feet up into the seat of his stool before rising on unsteady legs, nearly toppling over before he caught himself on the back of Wes’s empty chair.

Axel begrudgingly looked over, brow knitting together as exasperation flooded his pale eyes. “Dude, what are you doing?” he asked. “Get down.” He reached out to grab hold of Roman’s jeans, but the brunette swatted his hand away.

“No,” Roman slurred. “Go suck face or whatever it is you two lovebirds do.”

As if he had room to talk.

Roman swayed slightly as he stepped onto the bar countertop, grabbing onto a low-hanging light fixture to stabilize himself before turning to his friends. “What’s a guy gotta do for a little attention around here?” Before he could complain further, though, the band on stage started up a new song, switching the tracks that his train of thought skittered haphazardly along. “Oh! I like this one.”

Suddenly aware of eyes on him—finally—Roman glanced over his shoulder to find Emersyn watching him, amusement flickering in her gaze and a teasing smile adorning her mouth. Expression mirroring hers, Roman leaned down, hand outstretched toward her. “Care to dance, milady?” he asked, putting on a bad British accent for effect.

That’s how Emersyn and Roman had wound up on the counter, dancing sloppily and out of rhythm to the loud, pulsing music until being forced down by the bartender, whose job was being hindered by the drunken teens’ antics.

It was a miracle Roman remembered that night at all.

Roman wouldn’t have known the name of Emersyn’s roommate—most of the Hawthorne girl’s guesses had been wrong, but he’d been too caught up in the past and the way her fingers had fidgeted with his to hear them anyway—had the boy in question not walked in at that moment to introduce himself.

At the intrusion, Roman’s attention turned toward Keaton, sizing him up. He was attractive to an extent, but if the rest of him fell as short as his height did, he pitied Emersyn almost as much as he did himself.

Keaton’s underhanded comments earned an eye roll from Roman, but he waited until the other male had left the room before voicing his complaints. He turned to Emersyn with a raised brow. “He’s fun,” he mused, sarcasm evident in his tone, as his free hand came to rest on Emersyn’s knee.

































MAMMAMIA



manëskin










♡coded by uxie♡
 



Esmeralda Hearthstone





































  • mood



    upset again (yawn)

















“You must be mistaken, then."

The pen almost had a mind of it's own, coloring in the words harshly near the familiar face that'd already taken shape in the last five minutes. Veronika was actually quite easy to draw.

Despite the intricate yet delicate features she was... for a lack of better words; basic.

The corner of her lips lifted upwards at the mere thought of it.

Esmeralda drowned out the Mrs. Jacobs words as she rambled on about the root of ancient charms and where they originated from. She already knew the answer so there wasn't a point in listening. Sometime during the witch trials Amira Gloriana, an ancestor of Estrella Gloriana, one of Nightshades founders, attempted to infuse an item with a spell and it'd taken ritual after ritual before Amira realized she had it all wrong.

Every spellcaster needed an intention with their spells. If you didn't-- it was likely the spell would fail or backfire. Amira was so focused on the spell itself she hadn't even considered the item in question.

Esme was usually set on her own intentions. She rarely acted or casted without reason. However; her intentions were never the culprit for her mishaps in magic.

Her parents had insisted it was a mental block that was stopping her from gaining her abilities and a lack of focus on spells that was failing her. She'd spend so much of her time trying to find out what was wrong with her. Peering through every book, every tomb, archive and history books she could find.

And nothing directly applied to her. It would've been nice to have a reason why instead of knowing that she was entirely at fault for her own failure.

And if she didn't remind herself of it-- someone else would.

"Mr. Calum. Glad you could finally join us. You're only…" She looked up from her sketchbook for a moment, not daring to look his way but instead keeping her gaze straight ahead. "Five minutes late. I think this is the earliest you've ever been for my class. Find a seat. We were just about to start demonstrations." She returned to the paper, keeping her head down and silently hoping that'd another empty seat would appear or he would evaporate into thin air.

She focused on creating the slight crease in Veronika's brow, the slight tug to her lips before she had the chance to hide her scowl.

"Hi Esme."

Her movements stopped and the pen halted onto the paper, her jaw clenching as a side-eye was given to acknowledge him.

Before she'd met Aspen, Esmeralda had the tendency to end up in the headmaster's class for more than just a few "mistakes" in class. She decided to go through the trouble of tampering with one of the charms ingredients, the bracelet had turned into a miniature curse, unable to be removed unless by magical intervention-- it wasn't the prettiest piece of the bunch. But since Dana had been so insistent that she'd do the assignment alone...

The door to Janelle's office opened right as she was about to enter. Her eyebrows raising in surprise.

"Hi Esme."

"... Hi?"

Janelle glanced between them and cleared her throat. "Esme?" She spoke up. "Oh, I see you two met, Miss Hearthstone, Mr. Calum." Her sudden formality confused Esmeralda but she didn't question it. Later, it's because she found out they were family-friends.

Keeping the formality to not embarrass him was sweet.

Stupid, but sweet.

"Excuse me." She brushed past Keaton giving him a last look behind her shoulder.

She'd spent that week trying to figure out where she'd heard his last name. His family weren't founders. They weren't anyone of importance to supernatural history.

Nightshades... however...

She'd found the book in the archives. Reading front to back and surprisingly, she had become an avid fan of Helena Calum and her vast knowledge of all things occult.

A lot of Nightshades students had an "in" from their parents. But Keaton hadn't shown any excellence in any of the classes they shared to convince her of that. She was curious-- but not as much as the one night in the library he stood glued to one section of a history book for the entirety of six minutes.

She roamed through the many rows of bookshelves before her eyes landed on the book that was able to give him the answers he needed. Esme was just shocked he hadn't thought of it first. The book was dropped onto the table he was reading at, landing with a soft stud. He didn't say anything but neither did she.

The next week he'd gotten a 92% on that test. She remembered because she'd gotten a 94%.

They had countless run-ins after those two weeks. In class, on the quad, in town, it was odd, but it was almost as if they had shared enough interests to end up at the same place, same time-- eye contact that'd lasted for seconds but what felt like hours. One might say they had chemistry, Esmeralda would say hormones but she'd be lying to herself.

It wasn't just a crush. Keaton was the only person Esme had ever met where she didn't feel judged, he looked at her in a way nobody else ever did, not like she was a mistake, not like she was broken, not with pity, not with anger, disgust or some vile form of jealousy.

He looked at her like she mattered.

He treated her like an equal-- he never talked down to her. He never saw her for what she believed she was.

He saw her for what he believed she could be.

"Is the seat taken or?"

"Nobody's sitting here, are they?" Keaton had taken that as a no, he took a seat next to her and she closed the book, an elbow resting on the desk, her hand under her chin and the lecture continued, she found herself fighting to pay attention attempting to fully ignore Keaton by her side.

It wasn't a date. She'd told him countless times it wasn't a date. Somehow their conversation had ended up becoming an argument about one of the most stupidest things she'd ever debated about. "Zombie sized chicken or chicken sized zombie?"

"Chicken sized zombie of course." He replied. "Oh, so you're just delusional?" She laughed and he suddenly turned serious. Almost half the day had went by with them walking around town, getting dinner and ending up on a park bench, still debating the topic. "I'm gonna be honest with you, I really don't care about this enough to continue arguing over it."

He smiled.

She was sold after that.

"So why did y-" The brunette didn't give him a chance to finish his sentence before pressing her lips to his.

"So how was your break? Do anything interesting?"

Small talk.

She wanted to laugh. But nothing about this interaction was humorous.

Esme had finally glanced his way and they met eyes.

The disappointment in his eyes was evident as she sat on the chair outside of Janelle's office, inches away of where they met. "I already told you, it wasn't my fucking fault, Keaton." Mrs. Jacobs was fine. Dana was fine. Everybody was fine and Esmeralda couldn't take anymore blame that'd already been thrown on her in the last twenty minutes. "Maybe if you were there instead of playing hooky today, you would've seen that instead of blaming me for something-- I didn't even mean to do!"

"How about you just stop taking out your anger on other people?"

"How about you get off my fucking case, you're my boyfriend, not my father-- oh, I'm sorry, is father a trigger word for you? Do you want to unpack that instead of pressing me about something that definitely isn't your business? It's not my fault--"

"It's not our fault your magic sucks and you can't control it." He spat back and Esme blinked, all fight completely draining in the matter of seconds. It'd taken about a year and half, maybe two to realize that no matter where she went, who she talked to, what she'd end up doing-- or what she didn't.

Everyone saw her the same.

She was just stupid enough to believe otherwise. "... I'm done." Esme muttered, the tears that welled up in her eyes was more evident than the strain in her voice. Before he could question it-- She was sure he knew what she meant.

"With the conversation, with the arguments, the constant judging, with-- with the continuous feeling that no matter what I do, you'd always be right behind me to tell me what I did wrong or--" It wasn't true. Not entirely.

But it's what it felt like.

"You can't fix me, Keaton. So take your morals, take your magic, and just..."

"Esme?" Janelle opened the door to her office, an obvious tension in the air and the brunette blinked away tears before they had the chance to fall. "I could give you two another few--"

"No, no need. We're..." Esmeralda stood up, swallowing and careful not to meet his gaze.

"We're done." Was the last thing she'd said before she followed Janelle into her office.

Their breakup was for the best.

If it didn't happen, she probably wouldn't have had the drive to be where she is now, she wouldn't have the powers she lacked before, Esme would never be as weak as she was before-- no more mishaps, no mistakes.

No more expectations she'd fail to live up to.

"Could you please stop talking to me." Esmeralda snapped, a heavy emotion difficult to discern that hid in her gaze. They received a few looks and Esme lowered her voice.

"I don't get what you're trying to accomplish. What is it you want to hear? That I had a fine break? It was great? That I... studied and played UNO with my family?" Her tone dripped sarcasm, her words filled with a venom and a hidden hurt that she'd rarely had with anyone besides her own family.

Not that they've noticed.

"We have nothing to talk about. I don't know if you're aware of this, but when people become exes, they don't continue to conversate."

































killshot



MAGDALENA BAY










♡coded by uxie♡
 



Davina Jacobs | Shifter : Vamp





































  • mood



    feeling nostalgic

















When Davina first arrived at Nightshade Academy for her freshman year, she was pissed off at the world. She'd lost her mother and father both about a year or so earlier and then been ripped away from the only life she'd known when the council swooped in and laid their trap on the rouge vampires she'd been traveling with.

They said that they wanted to "rehabilitate" her which she just found ridiculous. There wasn't anything wrong with her in the first place but whatever. It didn't really matter. She had every intention of causing chaos, fighting back, maybe having a couple of hookups, and then getting the fuck out of there as fast as possible. What she didn't prepare for was actually making friends and that hindered her plans just a little bit. Of course, among those friends, probably number one on the list, was none other than Desirae Mayfield.

The two had been coupled up to share a dorm and seemed to really connect while unpacking their new living quarters. It didn't take long at all for Des to become the closest thing Dav ever had to a best friend which is probably why she'd let her guard down... You know, spilling her secrets, exchanging all the gossip she acquired, even letting the girl in on some of her weaknesses, and well, you get the picture. She'd grown so close to Desirae that she would've destroyed anyone who dared throw the simplest threats her way or even look at her wrong for too long.

But of course, the universe seemed to have a way of reminding her time and time again not to trust anyone and this friendship had been no exception to that lesson. Maybe that sounded dramatic. On the outside looking in, it shouldn't have been that huge of a deal to find out your best friend was a werewolf but to Davina, it was the worst possible scenario ever. Repeating her father's stupid mistakes? It was an embarrassment really.

To be fair, one couldn't even blame Des for keeping her heritage a secret from her, especially after Davina had told her the story about her mother's death. Hearing someone tell you about how their father betrayed their mother by shacking up with a wolf, a move that resulted in your mother getting ripped apart limb from limb basically in front of your eyes wasn't exactly a warm opening to explain that you were in fact one of them.

Unfortunately, Davina's mind was more impulsive than rational so she did blame Des for being a "lying whore" as she'd so affectionately called her. In fact, she subconsciously blamed her for everything that had happened to her via the werewolves... and it took zero point two seconds to convince herself that Des had been playing her the whole time which only fueled her outrage more. Dav wasn't about to be made a fool, falling for the same shit her father had, so that pesky survival instinct instantly took over.

All Davina saw was RED. She decided to turn on Des before Des could even have the tiniest opportunity to do it to her first. Not that the poor girl even intended on crossing her but in Dav's mind it was only a matter of time and wasn't worth the risk. She made it her mission to make Desirae's life a living hell, mostly terrorizing her and being a raging bitch at all times. It was like day and night the way their friendship changed.

When that got boring and Davina still didn't feel like it had been enough she decided to spread one of Desirae's more damaging secrets just for good measure. Soon enough the entire school was chitchatting all about Desirae Mayfield's nasty little drug habit and it made it's way back to her parents. The move was simply a way to ensure that Des knew she would go to any length to fuck her over if she had to or if she just felt like it.

Even now, nothing had changed. Davina still one thousand percent hated her guts and overall she just wanted to remind her former friend that she hadn't let anything go. Not even close. In fact, now that she was back, she was glad to pick right up where she left off in making Des regret ever lying to her in the first place.

"Did you make a wrong turn or something, Davina? The asylum is down the road a few miles." -- Haha. If Dav's eyes had rolled back any further she could've taken a mental snapshot of her own brain. "I'd rather be crazy than a forgotten little pound puppy, babe. I bet you're the runt of litter too. Hmm?" she quipped back, the smirk still painted across her face. Of course, she had no clue how close she was what with Des having trouble shifting.

“Oh! I hear your unlucky roommate this year is Esme Hearthstone. You could ask her to use her magic to give you a less ... furry curse." she raised her hand to wiggle her fingers in the girl's face a little, "I mean, obviously you’d still be the weakest link no matter what but at least you wouldn’t have to worry about catching mange!” she added, a laugh escaping her glossed lips.

The vampire tilted her head a bit as if to think things over for a second before speaking again. "Orrrrrr she could get a demon to possess you, that'd be a personality upgrade from the pathetic one you have now. At the verrrrrry least it would probably make you a little bit more interesting, ya know?” she offered the suggestion with a shrug.

Honestly, she didn’t pay enough attention to even know what Esme’s specialty actually was but the insults sounded good enough. Who cared anyway? The goal was to fuck with Desirae's head. If she had to be stuck in this place then she was at least going to have some kind of fun and for her, pissing off her enemies was a decent number three on her top favorite hobbies list.
































raise hell



...










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:



desirae.





































  • mood



    what the fuck.


















There were times, such as now, that Desirae wished she could shift. Wished she could transform into the very beast Davina despised so much and tear that insufferable smirk right off the vampire’s face.

Instead, she balled her hands into fists at her side as she listened to Davina speak, mouth pressed into a fine line.

To think she’d ever considered her a friend—

"I'd rather be crazy than a forgotten little pound puppy, babe. I bet you're the runt of litter too. Hmm?" contempt laced Davina’s voice as the smirk only grew, and Desirae’s vision went red. “Oh! I hear your unlucky roommate this year is Esme Hearthstone. You could ask her to use her magic to give you a less ... furry curse."

“Actually, Davina,” Desirae interjected, sighing heavily and tapping a sneaker clad foot on the cobbled path they stood on. “I think I might just ask her to make you into a wolf instead—“ a bitter laugh escaped her, the sound cold and hollow. “—maybe then you’ll hate yourself just as much as everyone else seems to.”

Whether her words had any effect, Desirae didn’t know, because the vampire only continued talking, incessant and unrelenting as she’d always been. It used to be one of Des’ favorite things about the brunette.

"I mean, obviously you’d still be the weakest link no matter what but—“

Desirae stopped hearing, suddenly sucked into her mind, three months earlier.

—

Both her parents sat on their black leather couch, the white fabric of her mother’s perfectly pressed blazer stark against the otherwise dark colors of the room. It was rare she saw them together, but tonight they presented a united front, faces serious.

Desirae stood before them, fighting the urge to scratch at a stray hair that was currently tickling her cheek, making it hard to think much of anything else. A cool breeze, provided by the air vents in the hardwood floor of the living room brushed past her bare legs and goosebumps raised on her arms.

She was wearing a dress her mother had picked out, some horrid, stiff linen designer piece that had surely cost a fortune. It felt out of place if Des’ body, a drastic difference from her usual loose fitting cargo pants and cropped tank tops.

“Your father and I have been talking, Desirae—“ it was her mother who spoke first, poison laced honey dripping from her red painted lips. “—and we think it’s time for some serious changes.”

“Mom I’m doing fine—” she tried to interject, but she was abruptly cut off as her father opened his moth this time.

“Quite frankly, young lady, I’ve been quite disappointed with you, and—“

“Dad, I—“

“—I think this change starts with you accepting—“

“This is fucking ridiculous—“

“—your obligation to the Jericho family—“

“The engagement is bullshit—“

“Desirae.”

Authority boomed in her father’s voice, and she fell silent as every thought she’d had evaporated from her mind like smoke on water, a single silent tear falling from her right eye.

“It’s time for you to step up. To stop being the weak link. This family needs a leader not whatever—“ he flung a hand out at her, eyes cold. “—this disaster is. This is not the daughter I raised.”

Though she stood silently, the tear making its solitary track down her ivory cheek, inside her mind it sounded like she was screaming. She couldn’t hear over her own heartbeat pounding inside her skull, as a hand reached out to grip the buffet table next to her.

She expected her mother to defend her, as she had many times before. When she was younger, Charlotte was her savior and sole defender. Desirae was quite sure when that had changed.

Probably after she’d spent the summer of sophomore year in the hospital, hooked up to IV tubes for days before being shipped off to rehab.

Instead, the woman was silent, only nodding along as her father spoke.

These people were not her family.

—

When her brain has quieted enough for Des to form a response, she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, refusing to let her ex best friend see her crumbling foundation.

“You know, Dav? I pity you,” she spat, letting out another dead laugh. “And the council must too. They just feel too bad to put you out if your misery like you deserve.”

A long silence followed, as she met Davina’s eyes. She’d be damned if she’d let anyone get a one up on her this year. There was so much more she could say, things she could bring up that she knew would hurt her.

Being somebody’s best friend will have you knowing just what sets them off.

But somewhere, deep down inside herself, she did feel bad for Davina. And there were lines even she didn’t cross.

Maybe there was a tiny part of her that still hoped for a chance at their friendship.

“The school offers resources you know,” she added, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. It didn’t quite reach her honey colored eyes. “If you ever need someone to talk to—therapy isn’t something to be ashamed of.”



































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:



shiloh.





































  • mood



    kinda just there tbh
















Shiloh’s nose scrunched at Malachi’s playful abuse, eyes nearly closing with the effort. Despite her doubts, she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her lips at his words. Though she felt like a burden, she knew where she stood with her brother—on a pedestal that their mother had built, and no matter how hard Shiloh tried to chip away at it, the hypothetical marble refused to crack and fall. Even then, she could tell that Malachi was putting her feelings before his own, but it was no use arguing with him—she really had no reason to complain, other than the fact that she wished having her brother’s love didn’t sometimes mean inadvertently forcing him to choose between his happiness and hers.

For now, Shiloh would let it go; the misplaced guilt could eat away at her later.

“Are you sure?” Shiloh countered, fighting back a laugh that threatened to erupt at her own joke. “I think if it was between me and Squid, I’d be sleeping on the street.”

Squid was Khal’s cat—a pretty chimera feline—and Shiloh knew that if she had any competition for the number one spot in Kai’s heart, it would’ve been her.

A moment or so later, as if on cue, Squid’s human companion appeared in their midst. Shiloh turned at the sound of Khalani’s voice, face breaking into a smile so wide it nearly broke her in two as a girlish squeal escaped her. She lunged forward into Khal’s waiting arms, gladly enveloping her friend in a warm embrace.

“Did I?” Shiloh questioned, pulling back to look at Khalani curiously. “I haven’t even noticed.”

For some girls, that would have been a cry for attention—a fish for further compliments—but to Shiloh, it was true. She had little to say when it came to her self-perception—she’d found that it was often easier to view herself through the perspective of others.

“You look just as beautiful as ever, though.”

The sound of crinkling plastic brought Shiloh’s gaze downward to Khalani’s hand now raised between them, which held a bag of cookies—far too many for two people, but that was typical coming from Khal; she always went above and beyond when it came to the Ward siblings. Shiloh’s eyes widened in gratitude as she took the desserts from the raven-haired girl. “Thank you,” she said, fingers prying open the seal to retrieve a cookie from inside. “You’re the best!”

With the sweet balanced between her teeth, Shiloh was too busy rummaging through the boxes on the kitchen floor for a more permanent home for the cookies to hear Khalani’s slip-up. Even if she had, she wouldn’t have thought much of it—what the two of them got up to when she wasn’t around wasn’t any of her business. They were certainly old enough to take care of themselves.

At last producing a Tupperware container from the cardboard depths, Shiloh crossed to the nearest counter surface, beginning the task of transferring the baked goods over. She chewed absentmindedly on the cookie in her mouth—delicious as always—as she tried her best to tune out the conversation happening behind her. Maybe it was the baby sister in Shiloh, but she felt the need to give Malachi and Khalani space, a habit that had been instilled in her from childhood. For the longest time, when Khal would visit, Meredith would usher Shiloh away, claiming that she was too little to play with them.

Shiloh hoped that this time, at least, when Khalani and her brother inevitably ran off to do their own thing, the friends that she filled their absence with wouldn’t be of her own creation.

































elevator



blu detiger










♡coded by uxie♡
 



emersyn.





































  • mood



    curious, reminiscent

















Emersyn’s smile grew impossibly wider as she watched playful annoyance rise within Roman, his skin beginning to tint red. Call it pride, or perhaps she was simply being overzealous, but part of her reveled in believing that she was one of few that could strike such a chord in the man that sat beside her. “I’ll bite, maybe they weren’t up to par,” A roll of jade eyes accompanied with a quick pinch to Roman’s hand that laid in hers, a crinkle of her nose following suit. A coy smile laid on her lips as she whispered, “but none of them insisted on taking me to meet their parents one day.”

More laughter, louder than before and wilder than the last. Her sides began to hurt as she gently pushed her shoulder into Roman's, squeezing his hand as if it would steady her shaking figure. She couldn’t remember the last time she had so easily laughed this much while being this sober. Having fun while doing this, doing utterly nothing but being in the presence of someone that she didn’t feel the need to put on a face for. This teasing, this jabbing at one another for things that both teenagers knew were meaningless and yet…

Thoughts that were sure to lead nowhere productive scattered back to their hiding places as a voice not known to Emersyn’s rolodex of people slid into the cracks of conversation. With a furrowed brow, she followed Roman’s lead and observed the figure that now perched himself in the doorway.

Keaton.

He was probably just barely shorter than the boy that sat beside her, whose hand had fallen out of hers the minute the new voice had appeared. Silky brown curls sat atop his head, while a lazy but somehow effortless smile was placed neatly on his lips. Keaton’s build couldn’t have been more opposite from Roman’s, as the singer was all lean muscle with tan skin, Keaton was more boy-in-the-library pale who looked as though he could pull off a cardigan and a scarf. Perhaps some thin framed glasses? Studious looking, though something about his vibe had Emersyn thinking that she wasn’t on target. But his face… there was no doubt the boy was handsome. Almond eyes held the same shade of brown as the boy’s hair, a jawline that was soft yet somehow traced a sense of definition. Not to mention that as Emersyn sat there, silent and watchful, his arrogant confidence was as effortless as it was attractive. She couldn’t place a manicured finger on it, but something about Keaton felt like a fun kind of trouble, just from this small first impression.

“I’d love to get to know you better, maybe when you’re less… preoccupied?” A groomed eyebrow shot up as the Hawthorne girl dared a quick glance at Roman. She could feel the annoyance begin to bubble in him the longer her roommate talked. “Maybe later, roomie. Nice to meet ya!” Was all she could get in before Keaton made a swift exit. Never in her time knowing Roman had another guy so easily dismissed him, especially in front of her. Save for Cooper, of course. Though with their status being changed, perhaps it was something that Emersyn should think of welcoming… after all, it certainly wasn’t every day that a man at Nightshade could pull off such easy air of haughtiness

Keaton…

“He is, isn’t he?” Blissful ignorance washed over her before being snapped back to reality, Roman’s hand sprawling along Emersyn’s exposed skin. She glanced sideways at it, his palm radiated a warmth that sent small goosebumps down her thigh as she noticed the tattoo placed neatly upon his middle finger. A star, three dots underneath, that was the perfect twin to the one on her opposite hand. She didn’t try to hide it as the corner of her mouth slid into a half-smile. That night, both of them backstage & surprisingly only two shots in before the show was about to start. Sophomore year, sixteen years old and fully convinced that they would take on the world one day. That blue corduroy couch that had seen better days, that was older than either of the teens that sat upon it then. He had been bouncing lyric ideas off of her, she had been offering harmonies, and at some point, both falling silent to listen to Axel warming up on the drums. Small but consistent beats dusting the air of the hazy venue they were about to play. She could still remember Roman’s lazy whisper in her ear as she fell into his side, one leg over his lap while his hand rested on her thigh.

“We’re gonna run shit one day Em… we’re gonna be stars.”

Not even ten minutes later, Emersyn had reached for her tattoo gun. Still learning, still practicing, she had tried so hard to keep her hand steady as she drug that needle along Roman’s middle finger, holding his right hand still. Moments later, she had done the same on her left hand.

Two years later, both tattoos were a little faded, and certainly not her best work. And yet, it was one of Emersyn’s favorites.

“He’s ballsy, I’ll give him that,” A small shake of her head to filter out her nostalgia, Em easily slid to the side to rest her head on Roman’s shoulder. The drive had worn her out, the thought of having to fall back into school work instead of studying music in studios made her want to scream. “Who knows, maybe you finally have some competition Ro.” Her wink was devilish, though even she couldn't believe her own idle threat.

He didn’t.

But it was fun to plant that seed.

“And just so you know, the bouncer at Chance’s still gives me a weird look when I walk in. So no, you never get to live it down. And you’ll be buying my first round there until you die.” Her finger raised lazily from her side, gently poking the tattoo on Roman’s middle finger and watching how the skin moved. “I don’t wanna unpack… I know you don’t want to unpack, god forbid going back into your nightmare of a dorm situation…” Getting out of menial tasks was Emersyn’s specialty, and she knew Roman’s natural avoidance for the inevitable lent itself well to her antics. “Wanna ditch & go for a drive?”






























cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 






keaton.










































































  • mood






    dying here

































"We have nothing to talk about. I don't know if you're aware of this, but when people become exes, they don't continue to conversate."

Keaton opened his mouth to respond but found for the first time in his life words escaped him. What could he say that didn't sound either desperate or disingenuous? He knew her well enough that either option would be disastrous. The answer that seemed so much easier a month ago alluded him now.

"So Iggy. Tell me what's so special about this Hearthstone girl you're obsessed with?" Helena muttered leaning in his doorway. An impish grin plastered on her face.

He had been dreading this moment since he had gotten home. A week had passed since the school had been put on pause to investigate the accidental death by manticore. After several failed attempts to get him to talk she had finally cornered him when he forgot to close his door behind him. In moments like these he found it hard to believe she was human.

"You left your journal open on the counter. Those descriptions were kind of… I don't have to give you the talk again do I?"

"I don't leave my journal laying around and it's spelled to keep you out specifically." He could feel her eyes staring darts in the back of his head. "But I'm sure Aunt Jane told you all about the break up. I'd prefer to not rehash it. The past is the past." He was lying of course. He knew she could tell as well without seeing his face.

"Janelle didn't tell me about any break up. I'm sorry to hear that. I liked her."

"How could you have liked her when you've never even met her?" He couldn't help but turn and face her. She had baited him. She was his mother after all. To his absolute surprise she was smiling. Of course she was.

"I don't have to meet her to see how much she means to you. You've never been all that good at hiding your emotions from me no matter how much you tell yourself otherwise. I see through it. And I'm sure she does too." Keaton hated when she got like this. He assumed it was the scholar in her. She was rarely wrong if ever. Another thing she had in common with Esme.

"I just know I like the boy you've become since you've met her much more than the one I first sent off to Nightshade. He comes home with less bruises and more smiles." Helena had tapped the scar on the bridge of his nose he had gotten from a fight freshman year. "And Janelle likes her… for the most part. Says she's brilliant."

"So what you have now is a choice. Is whatever argument you two had worth throwing away because of your pride?" Keaton didn't even ponder the question for a second. He was resolute in his answer. It was moments like these when he was glad Helena was his mother. He couldn't imagine having any other.

"And also I want grandkids and this is the only girl that's looked your way since Dana offered to marry you when you were ten. And it was mostly out of pity." These moments not so much.

As he sat there recalling that conversation with his mother he found his voice again. He was OK if she hated him for the rest of his life but he wouldn't let her only thoughts of him be him at his worst.

"Mr. Calum since you have seniority how about you start the class off with demonstrations." Mrs Jacobs' voice dripped with subtle sarcasm. "Pay close attention, class you're about to witness something very few people have. The floor is yours."

Keaton could not control his eye roll as he focused his attention on the feather before him and paused. He didn't realize there were feathers in front of everyone until he looked around the room. He was not all that shocked that she was changing up the curriculum after the last incident.

"Levare." He muttered softly as the feather began to rise slightly but steadily until it reached the ceiling. Keaton gave a mock bow before taking his seat.

"Miss Hearthstone. You're up next." Mrs. Jacobs prompted. He could hear her trying to keep her voice even.

"You know you had a point about exes not conversating anymore. Good thing that we won't be exes for long." Keaton muttered so only Esme could hear him. "I know platitudes aren't your thing so I'll offer you something else. Assurance. I wasn't here last time but I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

He had found his voice again.



































































cry for love






백현




















♡coded by uxie♡
 



roman.





































  • mood



    flirty??
















“Right,” Roman started with a snort, “because I’m the kind of guy every good girl wants to bring home to Mommy.” He wasn’t exactly bad—worse people were certainly out there—but he was no golden boy by any means. If the tattoos and nipple piercings weren’t enough to scare away parents, his reputation as the school’s illicit substance dealer and penchant for drinking away his problems definitely would. Being the sleazy lead singer of a rock band was just the icing on the cake, but he was otherwise relatively harmless, which had to count for something.

Roman noticed Emersyn’s crooked smile, following her gaze to the ink adorning his middle finger. It was a star—drawn freehandedly by Em as a spur of the moment decision while killing time before a show—trailed by three dots. The Hawthorne girl had a matching one on her opposite hand, a permanent reminder of their bond. It was the only tattoo of Roman’s that held any real sentimental value—a promise that the two of them were in this together, bound for things bigger and better than Pine Creek and Nightshade Academy.

“That’s one way to put it,” Roman said. He would’ve used a different word—stupid, maybe, because Keaton would have to be to look at Roman and Emersyn and think they were anything more than friends, right?

The weight of Emersyn leaning against Roman’s shoulder was comfortable and familiar, and it sent waves of fuzzy warmth through his body. He’d missed this—he’d missed her. As he turned his head to smile down at the pretty brunette, his nose was overwhelmed with the mixed scent of vanilla and tobacco—an odd combination perhaps, but Emersyn somehow pulled it off effortlessly—and it made his head spin at the memories it resurfaced; he’d woken up to that very smell lingering on his pillowcase more times than he could count.

“You sure he’s tall enough for that ride?” Roman questioned, raising his eyebrows tauntingly in response to Emersyn’s wink and hoping that she couldn’t see just how much he hated the idea of that being his competition.

Feigning offense at Em’s next words, Roman’s eyes widened. “Are you trying to blackmail me?” he asked. “You’re too pretty for that, babe.” He would never admit it, but the soft spot that Roman held for the Hawthorne girl was dangerously big—sometimes it seemed that all she needed to do in order to have her way with him was bat her eyelashes—so if she wanted something as small as drinks, all she had to do was ask.

“You know me so well,” Roman said, his statement punctuated with an exaggerated sigh as he tipped his head back to look at the ceiling, brown fringe falling across his forehead. It seemed that his plan to avoid Sylvia and their shared room was getting off to a rather successful start. “My car or yours?”

Roman didn’t bother to ask what destination Emersyn had in mind—it didn’t really matter, after all. The two of them could create fun anywhere they went out of practically nothing.

































MAMMAMIA



manëskin










♡coded by uxie♡
 


















The Party...





Don’t get lost!


The things she’d do to keep her job.

With the council on her heels—Meredith Ward being particularly bothersome—it was becoming harder and harder to write off the mishaps in the magical community as some feral beast, the latest sorry excuse for the death of a student, Jason Huxley, being the manticore. Which she’d told the council she’d taken care of.

She hadn’t, but the woods were off limits to the students for good reason. She’d know if they left the boundary of the wards. So…for now, the waters remained relatively calm.

It was a miracle the Council was as blind to the actual situation as they were, and Janelle was eternally grateful for it. She herself had spent many sleepless nights in the last few months debating what it might be.

But something like this had happened when she had been enrolled in Nightshade…

A burning at her collar bone pulled her back to the present, and she pulled her shirt collar back to view the small tattoo there the black ink a stark contrast from her pale skin. A physical reminder of the deal she’d made to become the headmaster of Nightshade in the first place.

She had been second choice, behind none other than Hayleigh Ashfield. That two faced blonde haired bimbo had been left to rot as a low grade astronomy teacher while Janelle, who’d been a botany professor at the time, received the promotion instead. And things were good.

Until they weren’t and she suddenly found that sometimes, she wished she hadn’t clawed her way there. A particularly difficult wave of students certainly wasn’t helping, either.

If only they’d just stay out of trouble…

—

Trouble, tonight, came in the form of a party. Thrown by two time senior Axel Jericho and his girlfriend, Livanna Moore in the very woods that were ‘off limits’ to the students, there was any number of things that could go wrong.

But there would be booze and music and…everything a teenager with magical gifts wanted after the start of school had brought on unexpected anxiety, and for some, drama.

Don’t stray too far away from the bonfires, though. We wouldn’t want anybody getting lost…






























shhhh












♡coded by uxie♡

 



khalani.





































  • mood



    nervous -> ???

















“I’m almost done, I promise.”

A final swipe from the black pencil in her hand meant the completion of Shiloh’s eyeliner. Her hazel eyes were bright against the thin charcoal stripe on her lid, shining with that excitement of attending her first Nightshade party. Khal did one more onceover before allowing her shoulders to fall down her back with a sigh. Looking at the younger Ward sibling now, a young woman about to go to a party, meet friends, do things a normal teenager should, it made Khal admittedly nervous. It wasn’t hard to see that Shiloh was the younger sister the older secular had never had, and her want to protect Shiloh was fully involuntary. But even Khal knew that there were things her adoptive younger sister would have to go through that neither she nor Kai would be able to prevent. That was just part of this. “I know I’m biased but I think you look beautiful,” The Noh girl gently pushed a piece of hair behind Shiloh’s ear before lightly pushing on her shoulder, telling her she could turn around and see for herself.

She looked like a young woman. Her clothes helped with that, though Khal knew better than to say anything. Shiloh had been so excited when she had come back to the dorm that afternoon, holding a paper bag of clothes that she said were “a gift” from none other than Emersyn Hawthorne. The look that had been exchanged between Kai & Khal had been one of silent agreement; they knew what was in that bag & they were going to keep their mouth shut about it. At least in front of her.

Tearing her eyes away from the work she had done on Shiloh’s makeup, work that she was actually very proud of, Khal’s black irises met the mirror next.

She wasn’t sure about how she looked… nice, she supposed.

Khal had sent multiple texts back and forth to Esme, her only female friend doing her best to coach Khal on what to wear. Most of it was ‘too modest’ or ‘too formal’, which left the secular’s room a complete hazard, but she would deal with it later. After almost an hour of back and forth, a final photo had been sent & stamped with Esme’s seal of approval.

Still, she wasn’t sure.

An off-the-shoulder black sweater covered or torso, her slim shoulders and collarbones exposed which she knew would cause a chill later. Slightly faded black, high waisted skinny jeans hugged her waist and legs, the sweater tucked in and secured with a black belt, a silver snake replacing the boring buckle that was usually there. Having put so much energy into the rather simple ensemble, black chucks were the only shoe she could muster enough thought into.

Her hair was slightly wavy, having been air dried then touched up here and there in some places with a curling iron. Her bangs fell nicely along her forehead, daring to dust her curled eyelashes. Khal’s makeup was simple, a slightly smoked out liner with a nude lip, a bit of blush per Shiloh’s insistence. The pink of her cheeks looked out of place against the black of her tattoo that peered out from behind her hair, taking up real estate on most of her right side. Against the darkness of the outfit, it worked. And yet…

The black into that flowed from her right collarbone, over her shoulder and down her spine was stark against fairly pale skin. She didn’t see it often in this setting, about to go out where others would see it too. Truly, Khal adored her tattoos, but there was something oddly intimate about how it looked on her now. It made a small rock form in her stomach, but she did her best not to shy away from the figure she saw in the mirror. It was different, but different could be good. Besides, Khal knew good & well she wasn’t there to look nice, but if her dressing up made Shiloh feel good about doing it as well, then how could she say no?

“Lets get out there before your brother falls asleep,” The Noh girl chuckled, pushing open the door of the bathroom and allowing Shiloh to pass in front of her. She could already imagine Kai’s face, his eyes widening with a range of emotions at how much of a woman his baby sister looked like in the skank of Nightshade’s clothing. Luckily, Shiloh was way more covered up than Khal had ever once seen Emersyn Hawthorne.

A small smile slipped onto her lips as she heard Kai fumble over his words before taking a step out of the bathroom, leaning on the wall and folding her arms over her chest. “She looks nice, doesn’t she?” Khal shot a grin at Kai, giving him a wink as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. Perhaps she did. “I think you look stunning Shi. Just remember to go grab your jacket?”

A moment later, as Shiloh searched for her jacket, Khal’s attention fell to the boy before her. And though she would never admit it, she was a bit taken aback. Casual in a black shirt with black jeans, something about Kai just looked… different. His blue eyes were bright against tanned skin, his own tattoos seeming to fit him and his clothing better than hers, it was just… different. Not bad different, but a different that Khal hadn’t really ever wrestled with when it came to Kai. He looked strong… sturdy? Like if he wanted to intimidate someone, he wouldn’t necessarily have to say anything.

“You look like a bouncer,” Her words were laced with a playful energy that was only further confirmed by the smile that grew on her tinted lips. “And don’t say anything to her, I mean it. She loves that dress.”



































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:



elliot.





































  • mood



    contemplative, excited

















To Elliot Karnes, there was no better way to make an assessment of how Nightshade’s student body was feeling about the recent death of their dear classmate than to throw a party. In the woods. Where that very student was murdered. How lovely! But first, there was the matter of what to wear…

Music thudded mercilessly on the other side of his closed door as Eli stood in front of his closet in a pair of navy blue sweatpants, his left foot crossed over his right, mirroring his folded arms. His head tilted to the side as he looked at the clothes hung there, mostly neutral tones with the occasional thrifted button down making up the only brighter colors in his closet. Still, even with the seemingly endless wardrobe that laid before him, the shade couldn’t quite pick out the vibe of the night. Not that it truly mattered, Eli knew with a deep seeded confidence that he was one of the better dressed men that attended Nightshade, but perhaps there were people there that he hoped to impress, catch the eye of… so his appearance did matter tonight. Most nights, but especially tonight.

Scratching a spot on his chest, looking down at the slight red streak it left behind with a shrug, he finally reached for a simple, white scoop neck t-shirt, heathered grey pants & a pair of navy blue chucks. Eli laid the outfit on his bed, assessing his jacket options before a smirk fell easy onto his lips. “That’ll do,” He sighed to himself, plucking the old lambskin leather from the rack and laying it out with the rest of the outfit. Its dark brown was darker in some places from wear, the piece of clothing outdating him by at least ten years, as it had been his father’s before his. It fit him like a glove, falling in the right places, hugging others. It was Eli’s favorite piece of clothing.

It was Cora Bentley’s favorite of his too.

His half hearted smirk blew into a grin at the thought of the blonde bombshell, at the thought of seeing her tonight after so long, after having becoming close with her through her relationship with Ezra, after having to sit silent as he watched her light dim in the presence of the Hearthstones, after she was ‘mysteriously’ sent away with no emotional reaction from his best friend. Eli loved Ezra like a brother, and would do absolutely anything for the guy. If Ezra had told Eli he needed him for a fight, the brit would be there without asking how many guys there were, would bail him out of jail with no questions asked. But he wasn’t one to think his friend was blameless in everything that went down. Eli had spent months as a third wheel to the pair, getting to know Cora, know who she was & what she wanted out of life, know her hopes and fears and likes and dislikes and dreams, know that Ezra wasn’t it. Still, he played the good friend to both and kept quiet about his developing feelings for the girl. Shutting his mouth and suffocating those thoughts until one day she was just… gone.

And now she wasn’t. The feeling in Eli’s stomach wasn’t one he could mistake, it was just the excitement of her. Seeing her tonight, seeing her radiance. It was exhilarating.

Fitting a hand through now mostly dried curls, Elliot quickly tossed the navy sweats aside and got dressed, tying the laces of his shoes and tossing the leather jacket over his shoulder before exiting his room.

And fuck, was it loud out here.

“Hey Liv?!” The brit shouted into the open door of the bathroom, where the petite brunette was bouncing along to the too-loud audio that blared from a portable speaker on the counter. She was applying lipstick, how Eli couldn’t have told you, as she danced around. Liv was exactly herself, and the brunette was unapologetic for it. That didn’t mean the shade appreciated her blaring of Meghan Trainor. “Can you turn it down?!”

Her brown eyes snapped to Eli’s then, fingers fumbling for the speaker’s volume settings as she turned it down just enough to hear him. He sighed, giving her a nod, huffing a ‘thank you’ before striding into the living room. Truly, Eli wasn’t concerned about his roommate. She seemed nice enough, a little aloof but kind and genuine. But her music choices would eventually drive him mad.

Two steps had him at the kitchenette counter, swiping a dark green wallet from the counter and shoving it into his pant’s pocket. He leaned his forearms against the cool marble, pulling his phone out and opening his texts. Lips pursed, Eli hovered over the contact for a second, two, before finally pushing the pad of his thumb into the screen.

Save me a drink tonight? We have some catching up to do xx


A wash of confidence pressed the ‘send’ button as the message flew off to Cora, but it surely wasn’t Eli who pressed it. His palms already felt warm, something that would fade after a few beers. He hoped to beat her to the party just to get a head start on that. But not be too early… the game of high school social structure was exhausting. “I’ll see you there Liv! Lock the door!” The brunette boy shouted, slotting his fingers through thick brown locks once more, fixing any strays, before sliding into the jacket, checking in his phone screen reflection that he looked alright, then walking out into the cool night.

He hadn’t a clue how to navigate this, talking to Cora, being Ezra’s friend. He didn’t want to dissect it, but it was needed. Maybe just… not right now. Right now, he decided, he would simply revel in the fact that she was back, and this time, he wasn’t going to wait to shoot his shot.


































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:
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