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ariadnes-red-thread · 1 year

Note

HELLO!!!!

is me again hehe <3

lately, i've been thinking about how Jesse and how his strong devotion and loyalty translates into a relationship. so i was thinkingggggg, a scenario where Jesse needs to be walked of the edge of a heated situation and needs reassurance that he's it for reader. that he's the man reader wants to be with and will stand be his side.

can be either SFW or NSFW (with agender reader with female parts??? that would make me so happy) what ever is sparking your lovely imagination.

so appreciate and love and am grateful i found your beautiful writing and met such an amazing person <3

Mythos, my dear! Thank you so much for the ask!! I saw your second ask too and I hope I’ve done your beautiful request justice. Jesse is so passionate but that’s exactly what we love about him and the idea of being able to show him that when he was feeling insecure is exactly what he deserves! I completely got carried away with this and ended up writing over 2.5k words (although it’s never enough for Jesse!). I hope you like it! Thank you for celebrating with me, love!

Pairing: Jesse x GN!/Anatomically Female Reader

Warnings: General Creepiness, Threats of Violence, Canon-Typical content, Self-Doubt, Explicit Sexual Content *MINORS DNI*

You finally made it to the bar on a particularly busy night at 79’s. It was way more work than it should have been for a glass of water, but the dance floor that Jesse had kept you glued to all night was hot, and you were parched.

You could still see him through the crowd. His cog tattoo and shaved head helped him stand out among his identical brothers. That and you’d be able to spot his grin anywhere. He was in his civies tonight, a black t-shirt and his lone pair of jeans. Jesse always looked good, but you enjoyed your current vantage point and took a moment to check out the handsome man. You had only been on dating for a few months. Your friend had been hot and heavy with Fives since the moment she met the goateed clone. It had taken her a few tries to convince you to join them on a double date with one of his brothers who Fives insisted you’d like. You hadn’t been expecting much, not because you didn’t like Fives, but simply because you didn’t imagine someone like him could be your type. Jesse had swept you off your feet, though. You hadn’t admitted it to him yet, but you were falling fast. His endearing charm, constant sarcasm, lighthearted take on life, the passion that burned bright through him, and the kindness and understanding he always showed you made it easy to fall. You watched him move under the neon lights, and you felt a wide smile creep across your face. Jesse always seemed to put that smile there.

So it was Jesse and the lights and the music’s fault that you didn’t notice a crowd of people behind you until one of them stumbled into your back. You spun around, ready to apologize for taking up precious bar space before you realized it was a group of nat-borns. Instantly, your defense went up.

It wasn’t often that other civilians wandered into 79’s, and the ones that did were usually there to cause problems. So as you eyed up the stumbling rough and rowdy group, you didn’t have to go looking to know that they were likely trouble. Unfortunately, as Jesse often liked to remind you, with a deep laugh and elbow to your ribs, trouble usually came looking for you.

“Hey,“ The tallest one slurred as he looked you up and down. “Come here often?”

“Yup.” Your reply was curt, and you hoped they would take the hint when you turned back to face the bar.

Instead, a hand came to your shoulder.

“Hey, I was talking to you.” He was suddenly close, his breath rank and hot on your face as he yanked you towards. “You think you’re too good for us.”

“Don’t touch me.” You took a full step away as you warned him.

“Slummin’ it here with all these test tube freaks.” He closed in on you again. “Let me show you what a real man can do.”

You raised your hands, about to shove him backward, when a familiar arm slid over your shoulder. Despite your guard being up, you instantly knew who was next to you.

“Problem here?”

Your eyes didn’t move from the creep, but you could hear the eternal grin on Jesse’s face. You didn’t mistake the grin for carelessness. Instead, you knew it was just Jesse. He was always calm until he wasn’t.

“Ahh, I see. No problem.” The man stumbled back into his friends before muttering under his breath. “Freak fucker.”

“What did you call them?”

Your head snapped up at the sudden change in tone in Jesse’s voice. He wasn’t grinning anymore. His hand left your shoulder as he began to stiffen at your side. The man didn’t realize his mistake as he kept hurling insults your way.

“They’re just another slut for you meat droids. The Republic needs to end the war so they can take you all out with the trash.”

In split seconds, Jesse lept past you. He swung, his fist connecting with the creep’s jaw, sending him reeling backwards. He threw another jab, catching the man with a blow to the nose before he stumbled out of Jesse’s reach.

Your stomach dropped as one of the friends lunged for Jesse, whose gaze was still on the instigator. But never one to be caught off guard, Jesse side-stepped the second man in the same moment he spun, landing a uppercut into the man’s stomach.

You balled your fists, ready to follow Jesse when another hand came to your shoulder. You cocked a fist back but Kix’s voice found you before you could swing.

“You jump in, you just make it worse for him.”

You huffed in response. Kix wasn’t wrong. You knew Jesse could handle a few nat-borns by himself and he would only be distracted if you started to fight. Still, your fist stayed balled by your side.

In the next moment, a flash of red by the door caught your eye. The Courscant Guard was here. They were always close by on busy nights, keeping the peace however they had to. The three clones positioned themselves by the door. You recognized Thorn by his helmet. He posted himself in the corner, a shiny on either on side of him. You knew he wouldn’t intervene unless he had to, but if Jesse kept at it, Thorn wouldn’t have a choice.

Kix saw Thorn too. He set his jaw and dove into the fray. He emerged with an arm wrapped around Jesse’s waist, tugging the scowling man out of the scuffle. Kix turned, tossing his brother away from the seething nat-borns before he spun around to face them again.

“Get out.” Kix pointed to the door. “Or you’re going to have a lot more meat droids to deal with.”

The instigator snarled through a bloody nose and spit at Kix’s feet. Jesse yelled out and charged for the man again. You turned to face him, stepping into his path and putting your hands on his chest. Jesse looked down at you, his face instantly softening just a bit.

“Jesse - we’re leaving now.” The words were an order but your tone was gentle, hoping you could reach the part of him that had just relaxed under your palms.

He frowned, his eyes quickly back on his target. The men were rapidly retreating out the door, with side-glances thrown at the Guards in red. You felt Jesse twitch, like he wanted to chase after them.

“It’s okay, Jess.” Kix’s voice came from behind you now, calm and quiet. “Just let go it.”

“They’re not worth it.” You lifted one palm to Jesse’s face, laying it on his cheek with just enough pressure to coax him into looking at you. “Please, Jesse.”

His hand came up to your forearm, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“Okay,” The words were breathy as they left his mouth. “Okay, okay. You’re right.”

You lifted to meet his lips, capturing him in a quick, grateful kiss.

He exhaled as you pulled away, breaking the brief kiss. You ran your thumb along his cheekbone, tracing the lower rim of his tattoo. Then your hand fell to find his hand at his side.

“Let’s go home.”

You tugged him towards the exit. As you pulled Jesse out of the club, you threw on glance back to search over his shoulder, quickly finding the familiar eyes of Kix. He tilted his head in question, and you nodded in reassurance. He smiled back and raised his glass in a grateful salute before he turned back to the dancefloor. Jesse followed you to the door in a daze. The adrenaline of the fight had worn off, and he hung almost limp as he drifted behind you.

By the time you got back to your apartment, Jesse was almost catatonic. His lids hung heavy over his eyes as he sank onto the edge of your bed. He hadn’t said a word since you left 79’s. You were starting to get worried. Rather than press him to talk, you went to the kitchen and got a wet washcloth. Returning to find him unmoved in the bedroom, you knelt before him. Coaxing him to take off his shoes, you placed them next to yours at the end of the bed. Then you turned your attention to his bruised knuckles. Taking his calloused hand in yours, you started to dab at the scrapped skin.

“You… you don’t have to do that.” Jesse stuttered as he finally spoke.

“I’m happy to, Jesse.” You tried to smile up at him but his sleepy gaze had turned into a wide eyed stare and it caught you off guard.

“No, I mean you shouldn’t have to do that.” He yanked his hand out of yours.

You barely had time to wonder at his sudden movement before he was up on his feet, pacing across your small bedroom.

“Jesse, talk to me.” You kept your voice gentle, not out of fear but out of caring. You wanted him to know you were there for him.

“You deserve better, you know.”

You frowned but before you could protest, Jesse spoke again, never breaking his relentless stride.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a hothead. All I know is how to fight.” Jesse ran his fingers over his broken knuckles. “You deserve more than that.”

He finally stopped his pacing as he caught his form in the full length mirror that hung on your wall. His frown grew as he studied himself.

“Look at me.” His shoulders slumped and his eyes fell to the floor. “I was bred for this. Bred to be a soldier and that’s all I’ll ever be.”

You quickly clambered to your feet. He didn’t move from his position in front of the mirror. You stood behind him, savoring his closeness for a moment. You wrapped your arms around him at his waist and pulled him in tight to you.

“I love your fire, Jesse. I love that you’re a fighter.”

He let out a single dry laugh. It was so soulless, so unlike Jesse. You held him a little closer.

“Look at you, Jesse.” You settled your head on his shoulder, stretching to peer at your combined reflections. “You want to know what I see?”

He finally raised his head, hesitantly meeting your eyes.

“I see how passionately you care, how you love so strongly that you would go to war for those you care about. Your brothers know that. They love and respect you for that. But that fire isn’t all you are.”

“You can make me smile on the hardest of days. You keep calm in far more situations than you give yourself credit for. You like to pretend you don’t care but I can see how deeply you do.” You dug your fingers into his shirt, gripping his ribs, trying to convey how much you wanted him. “Don’t ever say you’re just a soldier. You’re so much more than that, Jesse.”

Jesse’s eyes were shining as his reflection stared back at you. He took your arm from his waist and tugged you in front of him, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders folding you into his warmth. You reached up and held onto his arms like he was the only liferaft in the sea. He started to grin again. You leaned your head back into him with a sigh and a smile.

“I’m so lucky to have met you.” Jesse murmured as he kissed the top of your head.

“We’re both lucky.”

You turned your head to lay a gentle kiss on his bicep. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the smirk on his face widen just a little. He pressed a kiss to your neck. And then another. You tilted your head, giving him more access to your sensitive flesh. One of hands that laid across your chest searched out your pert nipple and began to tease it gently through the rough fabric of your shirt. You leaned back into him with a soft moan, grinding your hips against him, feeling him harden behind you. Jesse’s lips found your ear.

“Oh, cyare,” Jesse’s words were dark and husky. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

His other hand snaked its way down your front, finding the waistline of your pants. Jesse pushed the fabric aside, sinking one knuckle into your already wet center.

“See what you do to me.” You breathlessly muttered. “Jesse, I need you.”

His hands jumped to your waist to find the hem of your shirt. Gentle fingers traced a line up your side, gathering your shirt as he went. Jesse paused at your mid-waist and looked at you. You nodded, giving him permission to proceed. He whipped the top off of you in the next moment. You spun to face him, needy for the feeling of his skin on yours. You tugged at the ends of his shirt, and he quickly obliged. You ran your hands over his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin and the sturdy build of his muscles.

Jesse bent to meet you and quickly captured your lips in his, kissing you deeply. He still tasted like a hint of whiskey. His tongue swirled with yours in a bruising fury and you felt yourself craving more of him. You broke apart for a moment, both turning your attention to your pants. The last bits of clothing was quickly removed and kicked aside.

Jesse spun you around to face the mirror and then pressed his wide palm on the small of your back, coaxing you into bending over. You gave into his directions, bringing a hand to the wall on either side of the mirror. You felt him run his length along your aching slit. You let out a breathy moan as he brushed along your clitoris, your head falling and eyes closing at the glorious friction.

“Oh no, cyare,” Jesse’s back was suddenly pressed against you, and his hand was on your jaw. He guided your head back up so you were staring into his deep brown eyes.

“That’s it,” he nipped at your neck as he stood again, lining himself up. “Let me see those eyes.”

You stared up at him, meeting his dark look in the mirror. His pupils were blown. Jesse stood again, towering over you. You bit your lip as you studied the breathtaking man for the briefest moment.

Then he entered you. His member filled you, reaching your furthest depths at this angle. The ache of being so full was quickly replaced by a overwhelming pleasure as Jesse’s hand snaked its way around you, deftly finding your already sensitive nub again. He teased small circles as he slowly began to move, dragging his cock from you before swiftly entering you again. Soon, his hips pistoned into you and you pushed back off of the wall, meeting him with every stroke. His other hand held your hip on a strong grip. You cried out his name as a wave of orgasm overtook you. Jesse followed behind, filling you as he finished.

You stood up and swayed on weak legs. Jesse quickly gathered you into his chest, showering your shoulders with kisses.

“Thank you.” He whispered against your skin.

“Always.” You sighed, leaning back into him. The next words left your mouth before you even considered them. “I love you, Jesse.”

Your stomach dropped for a moment. You knew you meant it but maybe it was too soon, too early. Before you could take it back, you looked to him in the mirror. His dark brown eyes found your suddenly wide ones and they were bright, all lust replaced with a vast joy. He quickly spun you to face him. Cupping your face in his hands, he tilted you up towards him.

“I love you too.”

His lips captured yours and his hands fell to wrap around your waist. Your heart soared as he squeezed you tighter to him.

“Now come on,” Jesse smirked before he stepped backwards, tuggiing you towards the bed. “I’m not done with you yet.”

#star wars #the clone wars #tcw #tcw fan fic #tcw fan fiction #star wars jesse #clone wars jesse #tcw jesse/you #tcw jesse smut #arc trooper jesse x you #clone trooper jesse x reader #ct 5597 #ariadnes red thread #aria’s 150 follower celebration #ariadnes red thread 150 follower celebration #follower celebration #follower request

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faoighiche · 25 days

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Children of Darkness | Ariadne & Burrow

PARTNER : @ariadnewhitlock TIMING : Current. LOCATION : Somewhere in the Pines. SUMMARY : Ariadne and Burrow cross paths on the site of a new hedge hound's creation. Ariadne gets to pet a weird dog, while Burrow starts to wonder if her understanding of the world is flawed. WARNINGS : Animal death (gets got by the strangle weed)

Satisfaction tickled Burrow’s throat, forcing a chuckle onto her lips. Yes. Her precious vines had another success, claiming another for the pack. She wondered what new hound this host would blossom. She was quick to sate that curiosity, changing her venturing to the quickest path to her vines. When she came across the awaited sight, the animal still struggled under the yearning of the vines. Legs clawed at the ground while its tinier mouth ripped at the stems. Stems that continued in apathy, soon replacing whatever the creature managed to tear off. The beast was frightened. Delirious. And causing too much inconvenience to her kin. There was no use keeping it in that state. So, Burrow imbued her essence into the vines, quickening an already heightened growth. She focused her vine’s yearning to the throat. A throat that succumbed to the vines' eternal writhing. The animal’s struggle was soon no more, reduced to the twitching of death’s aftershocks.

All that was left was quiet. Burrow relished in the feeling of a new host, a new hound, a new friend. At least, she tried to. The forest was quiet in more than just sounds. The buzzing of her kin ceased. Her heart tried to follow: skipping a beat but continuing. So, her body followed instead, moving to desert the area. Though, not completely. She would not abandon her hound who was still so young. She watched behind the trees and the bramble as a human stumbled into view. Was she the one who scared away her precious ones? The human did not deserve to bask in her hound’s creation. The human did not deserve to run back to town and send the killers their way. Burrow stepped out into the speckled sunlight. “What are you doing here?” She demanded of the human as she watched her closely. Determining the best course of action in the following silence.

She’d heard something resembling a whimper, and Ariadne froze, because it didn’t sound human, but she also knew that she didn’t usually create that sort of reaction in animals. It was usually more aggressive, when she was around. Either that or just altogether disappearing. By which she meant running away. Which clearly wasn’t happening right now, but she was far too curious to entirely step away, even though she was certain that if her heart could beat, it would be jumping far out of her chest right now.

A voice startled her out of her thoughts, confirming to her that she was, in fact, not alone, and she jumped at the other voice. “I – was going out for a walk.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t as detailed as she might’ve made it if she wasn’t feeling so entirely on edge. “I’m sorry if I bothered you.” Ariadne glanced down at the ground. “I just – I heard something, and it sounded like someone was in trouble, and so I wanted to come over to make sure things were okay, or if not, to see if I could help or stuff.”

The human seemed agreeable, in the same as the nectar on a pitcher plant. Burrow knew well of their liar tongues. While their words hardly served her much purpose, their bodies certainly did. If the human was eager to help, then she would be sure to show her the proper path. No sense in forsaking a fly that wished to be on the web. Especially one that looked so youthful and healthy. “You may help by stepping on the vines. You may approach the vines.” May the human’s presence be loved instead of feared. Come human, be blessed by her kin’s touch, and know true usefulness. But another of her kin was quicker to claim. Unlike her vines, her tick did not have a host to distract itself. Until then, of course, as the tick set its eyes on the human. It scurried up the human’s shoe. Further up still it would go, to find refuge under the sock. The best place for a bite.

Except… it didn’t. Burrow’s tick regarded the human the same as it would an exposed root. Its disinterest was not due to the poison humans so loved to bathe themselves in. No, her tick scurried across the leg, as it would on any other leg. The only difference was the lack of a want to bite. In fact, the human did not register as a thing that could be bitten. Not a snack, but merely a thing in its path. Burrow stared, frustration relenting to a spike of curiosity. “Wait, what are you?”

“I don’t – won’t that hurt the vines?” Ariadne looked over at the woman. “I don’t want to hurt them - but - if it will help…” though how it would help, she wasn’t sure. In fact, in a lot of ways it was deeply confusing to try and make any sort of sense of that, but she’d never claimed to be a botanist, and so she supposed that she couldn’t really claim too much to understand what was going on.

Then there was a bug crawling onto her shoe, and Ariadne would’ve held her breath if she’d needed to, waiting for the bug to somehow shriek or fly away or run away. Except it didn’t, and then the woman’s voice cut through Ariadne’s thoughts. “I - what? What - I - I’m Ariadne!” She winced at the heightened pitch of her voice. “What do you mean?” Except that she could only play at being ignorant for so long, because the what are you comment probably didn’t have anything to do with her name. “Why?”

Such an eager fly — approaching the web without much question. Only one question had sufficed: a concern for the web. It was almost sweet. The humans never cared to be kind to Burrow’s vines after watching them claim. It was too frightening for their brains to comprehend. But, this wasn’t a human, was it? This was something else. Something her parasites did not deem worthy of taking. A thing that had no spoils to offer. She only knew of one such being: the dead who took such spoils the same as her parasites. “Oh. Are you one of the dead? That is what I mean by my question.”

Burrow observed the strange through her own senses and that of her tick. Her precious one felt no warmth of rushing blood below the other’s skin. Only a coldness was offered and a strange smell it could not place. This must be one of the dead, yes? The dead had always fascinated her. Their appetites aligned with that of her own: the blood and the flesh of those living. A great feast that made the life of others into her own. Even the fae, the ones the dead deemed the most supple, was upon Burrow’s own plate. Though, she would consume them in other means. So different and yet the same. “You will not take a taste of me, unless you offer me something worthy in return.” Her intrigue did not transfer into generosity. That was reserved for her parasites, not those who emulated them. But that emulation, that mirror upon her own nature, had her wanting to give. A piece with a price tag, but even that was a wonderful gift. “Do not approach the vines. The vines are satisfied.” She would not let her curiosity be claimed by another. “Tell me more about yourself. I am curious about you.”

She always did her best not to lie. Ariadne just didn’t much see the point in it, and she’d seen how lying hurt people far too much – how even little lies could do their own kind of damage. She supposed that just by not telling people what she was, she was sort of lying in her own kind of way, but she did her best to believe that was okay – especially because a lot of the time it was a matter of possibly dying again if the wrong person found out. Though that was something she’d discovered more recently, Celene had advised her against advertising what – who – she was to others. It was absolutely annoying that she couldn’t tell when someone else was a mare, but she’d made do.

Which didn’t explain how this absolutely alluring and yet anxiety-induing person knew what she was. “I don’t – I’m not gonna try to feed on you!” Ariadne wanted to shrink into herself, hating the fact that this was what the stranger first assumed about her. First assumed that she’d hurt them. “I can offer you stuff, if you want?” She didn’t know what, exactly, she would offer them, but it seemed like the right sort of thing to say. “I won’t – I won’t touch the vines, if you don’t want me to.” She shook her head. “I – I’m Ariadne.” Which she’d already said. “I – I don’t know how you could tell I was dead, but I – yeah, I am.” She only hoped admitting this wouldn’t result in regret. “I – I’m a mare.” The word caught tight in her throat. “Do you – know of people like me?”

The heightened voice, the shrunken stature — the dead seemed upset about something. Was the dead upset about the thought of eating? Most enjoyed eating, such as Burrow herself. No, the change in demeanor was likely caused by something else. Did the dead dislike being known? Did the dead think she would not make for a tantalizing treat? She would make for a lovely treat. The best treat. She let out a huff, but with it, her tensions departed. “Yes. I do want you to offer me stuff.” Burrow eyed the dead up and down, as if she could spy out any delectable treats or dazzling trinkets she wanted to claim. If the dead had any such thing, it was buried amongst pockets and hidden places. “What stuff do you have to offer me?”

Burrow felt no need to offer anything in exchange, including her name. It remained absent on her lips. “Hello. Yes. I am aware of the mares. The mares are the dead who eat the dreams. The mares trample on the living when we sleep so the dreams are forced out of the mouths.” A strange thing to eat dreams. They were useless to her — both as sustenance and to experience. It had been so long the last time she had dreamt. Still, she heeded her nan’s warnings: there was always a cup of salt in her pocket. It stayed nestled in secret, for there was yet need to reveal it. Instead, she scanned the area for a thing unseen. “Where is your mare? Well, where is your horse, I mean.” She knew her vines had not claimed such a thing, for she would have definitely noticed those tingles of satisfaction. Nor had her other kin been able to dine on such a specimen. All her parasites who were still present were silent about the whereabouts of horses.

“Uh, I dunno. What do you want? I don’t have a lot. But I am happy to help you out mostly however I can. I just don’t wanna lose stuff that’s super important, you know?” She had to, Ariadne figured, if only because she saw no reason to assume anything other than the best of the person in front of her. She wouldn’t give up anything that reminded her of family, or of Wynne or Cass or Alex or Nora or anybody like that, but if the person wanted something else, Ariadne would do her absolute best to deliver.

Ariadne shrugged in agreement. “Haven’t heard it put exactly like that, but yes. That’s the gist of it all. Though I can’t like, swallow or chew dreams like people do other kinds of foods…” she let herself trail off. “I – no, I’m the mare. Not a horse, but like, uh…” she scrunched up her nose in momentary confusion. “Animals normally don’t like me, or like – my – mares. Us. People like me. I don’t know why, but ever since becoming this, animals tend to freak out when I come around, which is more than a little disheartening.” Ariadne clasped her hands together and pressed her thumbs firmly one atop the other. “Sorry if that’s disappointing. Even bugs don’t always like me and that stinks because I do love them. Most all of them.”

The clothings adorning the mare’s body seemed delightfully plush and of pleasant textures, but there was something greater the mare could give Burrow. To ask for it would expose her own nature if the mare was wise to the ways of the fae. An exposure Burrow did not undertake lightly, for exposure rarely did the parasites any good. But, the mare seemed so giving, and she would be foolish to not try to take as much as she could from a generous thing. “I want you to give me the memory of your most recent feeding.” It was so removed from any feeding she had known. No swallowing or chewing, yet sustenance was still achieved. Did the mare still feel it go down her throat? Did it simply blossom into her stomach? Burrow wanted to feel how the dreams entered her, the same as she indulged in the feeding of her parasites.

The mares proved to be even more mysterious to Burrow. “What do you mean you do not have the horse?” That was not correct. “Why would you be called the mares if you did not ride the mares? Do not lie to me.” The mares rode the mares: it was the state of things. To suggest otherwise made no sense. Though, the mare’s statement did have some evidence. Almost all her kin who scurried or flew had fled the area. It would explain why the creature from before had been so delirious from fear. A wonderful fear, for it had fed her vines so nicely. Perhaps the mares (the horses, not the dead) are the only creatures not fearful of them. “You must have not found your mare, yet.” She watched as her vines continued to coil about what was once a creature: a fresh hound being born before their eyes. Her essence extended with a gentle hand, coaxing the vines to their proper place around its home. An invisible hand that held the hound, rising it up into its new glory. A beast weaved into a mimicry of the life it took — the vines interlacing into beautiful swirls that turned to legs, a torso, and a head that observed them calmly. A beast without flesh; a beast without fear. “You may approach my hound. Sit on my hound. You may not claim my hound for your steed, but you may feel what it is like to ride the steed.”

“How do I give you a memory?” Ariadne didn’t know that something like that was something you could do. Maybe this person was making stuff up (which Ariande didn’t understand why, but she also just wasn’t about to start questioning stuff), or maybe they knew stuff she didn’t – which, if she were honest (and Ariadne liked to be honest whenever and wherever possible) was probably even more likely, considering Ariadne knew very little about the world she was newly part of. She wondered when she’d be able to tell herself that she wasn’t newly part of this world. She wondered if it would ever come to pass. She hoped that it would.

“I don’t like to lie!” Ariadne squeaked. “I – animals hate us – me. Mares. I don’t know why we’re called what we are, except maybe it’s ‘cause we’re nightmares, and they just took the night part away?” She hadn’t meant to get so panicked, but it seemed pretty near unavoidable at this point. Which stunk, but there wasn’t much that she could do about it, at least not in this moment. “But yeah, maybe. I’d love to find any creature that liked me. I – well, before I was what I am, I used to adopt bugs and worms and spiders and like, well, anything I could. I gave them good homes! I let them go a-s-a-p, but I just… I loved – love every living thing, and I don’t like that I scare them.” She felt her eyes go wide. “You sure I won’t scare your hound?” She took a few steps forward. “ ‘Cause I don’t wanna hurt the hound, or you, or anything…”

It seemed Burrow’s caution was misplaced. How strange this dead did not know more about her prized prey. “I will show you how.” The first to show her the ways. “Say that you give me the memory of your recent feeding.” The bind crept up the mare’s form, ready to steal away the precious memory. The dead squirmed as if Burrow had already claimed her. The same fidgeting that had been displayed before. What caused this irritation? Could it be the lies? A strange notion, for the dead indulged in the lies the same as the humans. It was as strange as to propose that the mares had no mares. “The nightmares are called the nightmares because of your kind. Your kind are the ones on the mares that come at night.” Was the dead simply lying to her, despite her protest against it? It made more sense than to believe what Burrow knew was false. It was information told to her by fae, who never spoke a lie.

And yet… and yet a small part of Burrow wondered. “Do you promise that you have not lied to me?” She knew the fae twisted words, but never into a lie. Never. The mare must be mistaken — must be lying. Burrow would fix that mistake. The mare would either make the promise and succumb to her lies, or accept the proper ways of the mares. The most proper way, for her hounds would make the best mares (the horses, not the dead). Her hound mirrored the mare’s steps, taking a few forward. An action instructed by Burrow, for her hound had no care for the dead — nor fear — nor anything, really. It regarded the mare in near silence, the only sounds came from the muffled pops of the corpse in its core. Its vines coiled about it, round and round, churning it to perfection. “You will not hurt my hound.” Both an assurance and a threat. “My hound does not fear you. I want you to ride my hound. Ride my hound.”

“I, uh, don’t get how that works, but okay!” If she didn’t have to detail her latest feeding, Ariadne would happily go another route with telling people. Any other route, really, because she didn’t like thinking about feeding, and one of her least favorite parts had to do exactly with the fact that sometimes those memories felt good. Far better than they should’ve. “I give you the memory of my most recent feeding.” She gave a sigh, a certain part of her feeling strangely lighter than she would’ve thought possible.

“Well, uh, like I said, I’m really not an expert. You sound smart and like you know what’s up though! It’s weird animals don’t like us, but we can hurt people, so maybe that’s why?” Ariadne shifted again. “Your hound is brilliant and beautiful. I,” she sniffed, “well, I can’t say how thankful I am that your hound will be near me.”

“I promise I haven’t lied to you! I’m sure I do lie sometimes, but I really really try to not lie if I can ever avoid it. Lying makes me feel all gross and bad, and I already feel bad, ‘cause I have to eat nightmares, and also lying hurts. I don’t want to hurt. Cause hurt, I mean.” She sighed. “Okay.” Ariadne brushed her hand against the hound, doing her best to climb up and onto it. “You sure it’s still okay?” She turned more toward the hound, “thank you for your kindness.” Back up to the strange lady. “I – thank you.”

The memory traveled down Burrow’s throat and swelled in her stomach. Foreign fears swelled as well: those inside herself and those soon to enter. A storm of uncertainty and regret that was almost as strong as the hunger. All only quieted when it entered. The good fear. Who she became in the memory tried to deny the fear, but she wanted it. She needed it. It had no taste or smell or texture yet it was the most delectable thing to enter her. How did it enter her? Did it really enter her? What was this feeling in her very core? She had no words, no knowing, no anything to describe the sensation. Ripped away from everything she knew of the world and becoming an alien to her own body. Even when the memory faded and she was herself again, she was not the version of herself before. Forever changed, ever slightly, by that piece of the alien still inside her.

Burrow needed to know more.

If only what followed had brought such strange delight. The promise prepared to tear through the dead, yet found nothing to grab. No lies tainted her tongue, just as the dead had proclaimed. But how? How did the dead not know of the mares? How did she not feel a piece of herself missing? Even when Burrow’s family tried to keep her away from her kin, she could still feel them waiting. Waiting for her as the horse surely waited for the dead. Right? Her stomach twisted at the idea she could have spread her family’s lies. No. Something… was missing. She needed to research the cracks in her knowledge had not known were there. She didn’t… her family hadn’t lied to her. “Yes… my- my hound is very brilliant and beautiful.” She finally managed to say. “It is okay. You will sit on my hound’s back.” Her hound did not mind, though they hardly minded anything. A few of its vines slithered past fingers and ankles — almost tickling, though not its intention. Just like its guardian, it wanted to know more of who rested on its back. “That is where you are meant to be.” Though not the horses of legend, her hound was close enough. Close enough to the image in her head that had begun to sport a small crack. “In exchange for your thank you, you will give me any memory I ask you to give me.” The best way to understand someone was to get inside their head.

#wickedswriting #thread #thread : ariadne #ft. ariadne w.

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onlyhams · 9 months

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if Theseus had been a monsterfucker that story would’ve turned out way different

#fuck Ariadne’s thread he’d say

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shewhoexploresthewoods · 1 year

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I completed coloring this page from Shekhinah Mountainwater’s workbook, Ariadne’s Thread, a few days ago and wanted to share it here with y’all. Coloring Goddess images is a wonderful way to focus and meditate I’ve found! In Aradia’s book, I sketched in some Womanrunes that spoke to me from pages 220 and 221 of Ariadne’s Thread.

#female spirituality #ariadne’s thread #coloring page #aradia #womanrunes #goddess spirituality #dianic witchcraft #labrys

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bewareofraiju · 3 months

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Persephone should have a demigod child, as a treat.

#and ariadne and amphitrite too #persephone #I've started dipping my toe in pjo #and even though I find the the characters enjoyable I find myself fervently wishing #for the wives of the olympians to have their own demigods as well #i mean it's only fair #I like the series so far but I find it iffy that these wonderful godesses do not engage with humans while their husbands are allowed to #I think it would be a nice plot thread to explore? being the demigod of lesser gods? if there is sorry I still haven't read that part yet #pjo #percy jackson #riordanverse #rick riordan

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disinfernus · 3 months

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Star light, Star bright

TIMING: early november. LOCATION: wormwoods, between wormrow and downtown. PARTIES: @ariadnewhitlock & @disinfernus SUMMARY: dis steals from a corpse (i'm not dead yet!) and araidne stumbles upon them. she's rightfully concerned! CONTENT: none!

Dīs was never quite sure of what they might come across during an evening walk. It was always quite the mystery, but that made the usually quiet leisurely exercise exciting. There was the prospect of walking away with a treasure, after all, and that thought alone was enough to keep the night strolls to an almost daily schedule.

That night had been a little different. The pendant that came to be in their possession came from a corpse that was not quite dead yet. A surprise, considering how still they lay amidst the clovers. The clearing sat fairly close to public view and up along the forest edge. The grass was trodden; people definitely used this trail. How did the body get here? What caused this? And why were they still alive? Ah well, it made no difference to them. The body was a waste but their golden valuable held tenderly against breastbone would have to do.

The blood was — the blood was a lot. Whatever did it likely couldn’t be too far, so Dīs started to turn on heel, to leave the dying man and clean up their new treasure — and their clothes. The human’s red was hidden within the darkness of their top, but there was plenty on their hands to make them look guilty.

She should have been in bed with Wynne, but Ariadne also knew that she had to probably let them have some kind of space. It was only reasonable for the both of them. Wasn’t it?

Shaking any doubts from her mind, she made her way around the edge of the forest, breathing in the cool night air, trying to ground herself. Or something. What she hadn’t expected was to look up and see with her (unfortunately) perfect vision. Which did mean, though, that she saw someone with red on their hands.

For a moment, Ariadne wondered if red gloves were suddenly in fashion (she wasn’t sure who she was supposed to ask to confirm this), except that the red seemed far too scattered and far too wet for it to be gloves. Which meant it was blood, wasn’t it? She recoiled for a moment, but she couldn’t just run away, could she? Cass was a hero, and so maybe she could help save somebody, somehow.

“Uh, hey.” She tried to make herself taller, fighting the urge to shrink into herself. “What are you up to out here, so late, uh, yeah?”

They saw the young woman before they heard her speak. Their hands busied themselves within the folds of their coat, hoping to rid themself of the evidence. It was dark out — very dark out, except for the light of the moon. Silhouettes dared to disappear completely within pockets of shadow.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Dīs returned casually and tried to keep their voice light without any hint of defensiveness. They weren’t sure of how successful they were; the question itself raised a red flag, of course. Who else but the guilty turned the question back like that?

A brief silence fell after their query, but they hurried to fill it quickly with a secondary answer, one to hopefully placate any potential suspicions. Not that she should be suspicious, of course — the man was already dying when they got there. “I’m on a walk… I don’t sleep very well. I’m assuming that is why you’re out here as well?”

“That’s true – you could ask me that! You probably should!” Because she was a monster, but at the same time, Ariadne very much did not want this man to ask her what she was doing or what she was, as a matter of fact, at all. “I – please – um, don’t?” Which probably wasn’t the best thing to say, if she wanted to throw off suspicion.

“Yes. That is why!” She wasn’t sure if she’d ever come off this enthusiastic in her talking, but maybe, right now, she had to. Had to do something to show that she wasn’t actually some terrifying freakish monster. Or that it made sense for someone who still looked like a teenager (and, Ariadne supposed, technically was – being nineteen-almost-twenty when she died and all) to be wandering around at night. “Awful bout of chronic insomnia.” She shrugged. “But I – your hands? Are you okay?”

Dīs furrowed their brows down. Now it was their turn to feel suspicion. Could they turn this around and get out without much issue? Doubtful. There would have to be some tricky word play and the right beats to hit for them to avoid lingering in her memories. The shadows could take them easily, but there was something else there beneath the catching light of the moon that gave them pause. Flashes of red, vivid like rubies, broke through the inky black darkness.

Curious. “Insomnia seems to be a popular blight in Wicked’s Rest.” Not for them, of course — being nocturnal had its perks. “It’s a bit.. Late, though, don’t you think? To be out by yourself. Most wouldn’t dare it.” Most were humans too fearful of the terrors that hid behind the treeline and in the caves. The ones that did dare tended to be those same terrors. Dīs curled their hands in, fingers having rubbed against each other with discomfort. They kept their arms to their sides now, bathed in shadow. She already caught sight of the blood, but maybe if they kept them out of the limelight, they’d fade away into obscurity.

“I’m.. I’m going home now, to wash this off. I don’t have a cloth with me.” Keep it obscure, keep it vague. “I’ll be alright, though.” Their shadow, a beautiful thing, stretched itself eagerly and slipped, blanket-like over the now lifeless corpse. The dark would hide it well if she didn’t look hard enough, but those eyes — if she was what they assumed, the darkness would be pointless.

“Yes, I’m not some sort of scientist or doctor or anything but there does seem to be a lot of that here.” Ariadne wondered if she could be considered an insomniac, now, given that she didn’t physically have to sleep. It seemed as though it was something that deserved a category of its own.

It was late, and Ariadne faked a yawn, hoping maybe they hadn’t seen her eyes. “It is late, you’re right, but it’s also beautiful, so I suppose I just got caught up in that?” At least she was trying to find a new perspective on the beauty of the night, because it wasn’t exactly something that came so easily, now. It used to be easy to adore everything the night had to offer, and she still loved the stars and the way the air felt, but being so much a part of the night wasn’t something that sat too easily with her.

“You can borrow uh, a handkerchief.” If she had one. Which she hoped she did. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Ariadne looked up at him with wide eyes, forgoing the hope that they hadn’t seen her eyes. If they hadn't commented yet, then maybe it was alright?

Insomnia didn’t come to those that were dead, at least that was what they assumed the young woman was — dead. Or rather, undead. They weren’t well versed in what species hid in the cornucopia that was Wicked’s Rest, but they knew of one other who’s eyes behaved the same. Assumptions, though, could be disastrous — and at worst, deadly. She didn’t seem the type to kill, though again, a downed guard could spell tragedy for the nymph.

“Perhaps that’s the reason for so many who lack sleep: they can’t bear to look away?” They questioned, rhetorical in nature, but it did have its merit — the city was a strange one, filled with magic and decay. It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch if it lured people in that way, with its inescapable beauty. “You should go home, though. The night is as beautiful as it is dangerous.” It wasn’t just what lurked within the shadows that could cause harm — it was the shadows themselves.

The offer was kind, but would it help to get them out of there sooner rather than later? A gamble. That’s all this interaction was. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to mess anything of yours up. Yes, yes… I’ll be fine.” Their questioning on whether or not the girl was dead or not should have been geared towards the body that lay behind them, hidden in the dark, but not quite dead yet. A pained, but low sounding, moan escaped the confines of the shadow, giving attention to something that wasn’t supposed to be there.

“That’s – very possible, yes, I agree.” Ariadne pulled her arms around her body. “The night is beautiful, and I always used to go stargazing with my parents, so…” Their question hadn’t needed any sort of answer, but she’d answered anyway, in part because she was worried about seeming rude. Yes, even to a stranger that she’d run into in the middle of the woods. Which might’ve not been the best idea, but said stranger was being relatively accepting of her strange behavior, so she’d happily take that energy and run with it. She liked making people feel safe, and had a distinct lack of ability to do that as often now as she’d used to.

“You should go too. I don’t want you to get into danger, either.” They seemed nice, even if there was the whole unexplained blood on their hands. Also yes – it’s fine, I can always wash it, or find something else to do with it.” Ariadne did her best to not hop around too anxiously. Then there was a moaning from somewhere, and her immediate response was, “I didn’t do that!” Because of course she was a monster, and she was capable of horrible things, but this hadn’t been her. “I – did you hear that, I mean?”

Dīs couldn’t help the feeling that she was deliberately following close behind, conversationally speaking, but she didn’t seem to pose as much of a threat - if at all - so they didn’t really mind. She seemed more nervous than they did, truthfully. “Do you still stargaze on your own?” They heard themself ask as they started to close the gap between them, their intent to lead them away from the death that lingered.

“Then come, no sense in persisting here any longer.” No, Dīs didn’t want to leave yet, not with the body still exposed. Once they were a certain distance away, the shadows would recede, making their crime visible to all that passed by. They’d have to circle back after she was gone to take care of the corpse, but they weren’t sure how long that would be. Would the body still be there afterward? The lampade gave pause in their efforts in cleaning the blood off their hands once she was certain it was alright for them to do so.

Dīs pursed their lips. They had already stepped ahead of the young woman, maybe a step or two. The idea of her being in closer proximity to the body made them feel uneasy. “Hear what?” It wasn’t a “no”, so the hurt was avoided for now, but it meant further investigation on either her part or theirs. “What do you mean, you didn’t do it?” They asked instead, hoping the change in topic would pull her attention away.

“Sometimes I do, yeah!” Maybe the added nod was a bit too enthusiastic, but it was genuine, and Ariadne figured that that was what mattered, right? She told herself the answer to that was yes, if only to further comfort herself. “It’s nice to be reminded of what makes the night so beautiful.” She needed more reminders now that she was part of the night, and a very bad part of the night at that.

She nodded to their remark. “Coming, yeah.” Ariadne began to walk alongside them, though they were tall (even compared to her – not that she was tall tall, just tall-ish tall), and she thought that she had to make a certain effort to keep up with them, but that wasn’t so bad at all. It was almost nice, even if she did feel a certain sense of nerves, all bundled up and confusing. Her perfect night-vision cut through the dark of the forest, though she was far more interested in the person next to her than whatever else was going on.

It was a certain thrill, to not be absolutely terrified. Not that Ariadne wasn’t scared at all, but to, at least in this one (possibly brief) moment, be able to look around a dark forest in awe was pretty incredible. “I – nothing. I don’t know, I thought I heard something.” She straightened up, fully intent on playing the part of not scared at all, even if that brief moment had been just that – brief. Far too ephemeral. “I didn’t make the noise is what I mean. There’s nothing else for me to not have done. I don’t think. Right?” She looked up at them.

Ever since they’d been ejected from the safety of their catacombs, they found the distant twinkling of the white and gold stars to be comforting. They liked the way they looked to be permanently pressed into the velvet sky. Some would shoot across, of course, but the constant ones were nice to look at. They were grounding, in a way.

“No,” Dīs returned, almost a little too defensively at first, “you can not see the stars during the day, can you? Not without one of those… telescopes.” The lampade gave a sweeping glance across the dark, navy black curtain that hung over the earth. “The stars don’t make the night beautiful. The night makes them beautiful.” They softened their tone, but they weren’t about to let space rocks and gas take the credit for their own splendor.

She thought she heard something; that wasn’t exactly comforting, but the forest was also full of creatures and flora that could have potentially made that sound. They couldn’t risk her wanting to head back, in case her curiosity overwrote her fear, unless she was actually really cool with murder. “No, you’re fine,” Dīs placated, or at least tried to. “The woods are alive, it would be foolish to think we are alone.” Other than the very real human body that rested some feet from them, there were plenty else to keep them company.

“Do you live far from here?”

“You can’t.” She responded immediately, not even having to think about any of it for a moment. Because she’d used to beg her parents to let her see stars at all times, and they’d explained how even though they existed during the day, the sun was the only one you could properly see at that time. Which had disappointed Ariadne, but only given her more of an appreciation for what she could see at night.

Now, though, the stars were not nearly as comforting as they’d been in her childhood, no matter how much Ariadne did still have an immense fondness for them. She’d made every active effort she could to ensure that she did still find comfort in them. She was part of the night now, and it made sense in some sort of desperately confusing way, that she’d be even more connected to the stars now than she ever was before. “Ah, well, I guess that kind of makes sense.” She shrugged. “I think the two of them magnify each one’s beauty, maybe? But like obviously to each their own, I’m not disagreeing with you at all though!! Just so we’re like, super duper clear.” She didn’t want to make them annoyed or frustrated or anything even remotely close to any of that.

“Ha! So true.” Ariadne winced at how fake her own voice sounded, but there was no use in backtracking now. “I suppose that’s both alarming and a comfort, to know you can go into the woods and never really be alone. There’s some musical song about that.” She shook her head. “That’s not important. I – yeah, well ish. I live in an apartment Downtown with my cousin.” She paused. “How about you?”

They knew that, but stating so would be like beating a dead horse and they wanted to get her away from the murderous evidence as quickly as possible. They figured keeping their mouth shut was the best way to do that. Her need to placate wasn’t lost on Dīs, but they couldn’t be sure if it was because of the situation or if that was just her. They would store that information for later, just in case.

A hum escaped them in response to her; of course they didn't agree with her, but they did have their own fixed sockets in their head that emitted the most radiant light. It would be hypocritical of them not to acknowledge their own light source. Two stars lost in a pool of black ink. They had to wonder if their light was stronger than that of celestial bodies.

“It’s an opinion.. You’re allowed to have it. Even if I don’t share it.”

Dīs offered her a nod. “It is the way it has been and the way it always will be.” Cryptic, but one would be hard pressed not to find a pair of eyes fixed on you in the woods. There were all manner of beasts that called it home, some more deadly than the others. “Wormrow,” the truth, but not the entirety of it. “So, I suppose that means we are on opposite sides of this wood. It’s fine.” They waved off as they continued onward. “I will walk you there, if you’d like. Or to the street - or to any sign of civilization. I know the Whye River has a better view of the stars than these trees do.”

At least they seemed receptive to her back-and-forth behavior – whatever it could really be called. The two of them were talking about stars and Ariadne was, on top of all that, doing her absolute best to think about all the good things about nighttime, rather than the very many scary and otherwise alarming things. Which she was part of. But she wasn’t going to feed on the other person right by her, she wasn’t even hungry (though the growl of her stomach said otherwise), and soon they’d both be on their ways.

Whatever sound she’d heard must have not been anything important, or even anything at all.

“Oh, you don’t have to share it! That’s fine! Everyone sees things differently and thinks about things differently and I wouldn’t wanna make somebody feel like they had to think the same way that I do.” Which was likely far too much to say, but Ariadne had already said it, and so that was that.

She knew Wormrow from Wynne, and she hoped that this person was also staying safe, because she also knew Wormrow from growing up in town and how it wasn’t always so safe. “I think I’d like that.” Especially because they didn’t seemed bothered by the red glow of her eyes, and they probably-maybe knew this forest better than she did, at least at the moment. “Lead the way.”

“I didn’t think that was your intention,” they returned with assurance. They didn’t think she had any, really, other than to enjoy the evening out when it was them that she ran into. She wasn’t the one with blood on her hands. They did think she was wrong, though. “It’s… Nice to know, though.” Not everyone they knew subscribed to her way of thinking; they’d endured them for too long. Dīs was glad their walking partner was better than that.

The lampade nodded, grateful she was keen to leave the woods instead of linger. Not many people would be that trusting with someone they had just met, especially where there were more feral things than conscious beings. Her eyes told them she could probably hold her own, though, that she was more than the fragile nature of humans. “Just this way, then,” Dīs directed. They carried themself slowly to keep with the young woman, happy to point out and talk about the stars that littered the clear, dark sky.

Even though they needed to head in the other direction, they figured the forest could have the body left there. A thanks, in a way, for letting them out with nothing but chit chat and cool air.

#thread #thread; star light star bright #tr; ariadne w

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bryceandhunt · 9 months

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#WHO'S CURIOUS #any guesses #tbh I need to reread these and then maybe reread them again before HOFAS like #so many threads to follow #even for an sjm book #Sarah j maas #archangels #Bryce Quinlan #Tristan flynn #ariadne #ariadne crescent city #ariadne hosab #hosab #house of sky and breath

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gendertarot · 2 months

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Invihermitam / Invihermitat: An inviane identity that can only be described by this specific version of the Hermit, by Aka Skyweb. This card is found in the Ariadne's Thread Tarot and the Alleyman's Tarot. This may be used on its own, or as a gender, aldern, or any other aspect of identity.

[ID: two rectangular flags with 5 horizontal stripes. The stripes from top to bottom are dark grey, off white, cardinal red, off white, dark grey. In the middle of the first flag, there is a Hermit tarot card. The card depicts a man with a curled snake tail. The man is bearded and wearing a decorated cap. They hold a hook-ended staff in one hand, and with the other they hold up a lantern that resembles a winged figure hanging upside down. A red thread stretches across the image, hanging off the lantern and the staff. At the bottom is the roman numeral 9. End ID.]

#mogai term #mogai coining #liom term #liom coining #inviane #tarotgender #deck: alleyman's #deck: ariadne's thread #major arcana #card: hermit

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longislandcharm · 4 months

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TIMING: Mid-late August LOCATION: The Commons PARTIES: @longislandcharm and @ariadnewhitlock SUMMARY: It was such a nice morning that two lovely young ladies decide to enjoy their time outside at the commons. It takes no time for secrets to spill. Oops. CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of accidental death

A Latte to Love was busy that day, busier than Winter had been expecting, and she had a strong desire to turn right around when she walked through the door. But the pull of her coveted mocha latte was too much for the medium to ignore so she trudged through the crowd to grab said drink before she made her way out of there. Too many people were trying to test her patience. Instead, she made her way towards some place called the Common that was also littered with people but at least she could keep her distance in one of the many gazebos strewn about the place.

It was in one of those structures that she found a familiar face. A blonde was sitting alone in one of them and her mind immediately went back to the slumber party at Mack’s. She’d been there, Winter knew that much, but she couldn’t quite recall what had happened to her that night. It was all a blur really up until she went to talk to Mack after everyone had left. Moving to take a seat, she gave the blonde a nod of her head. “Aria right?”

As she paused, she took a sip of the latte in her hand trying to wake herself up. She’d been up through the night reading everything she could get her hands on, only falling asleep with her head on the desk provided in her room when her tired eyes just couldn’t stay open anymore. Now she was paying for it for sure but maybe the company she now had would be able to keep her awake without annoying her too much. “That was some party the other night, huh?”

She didn’t spend all her free time in A Latte to Love. Still, Ariadne certainly did come by more often than she ever had before she and Wynne had been… official.

Which was fine, and it wasn’t like anybody really looked twice because she wasn’t someone who stood out, and she was a college student (so going to a café made sense), and she could always pull out the ‘I’m the barista’s girlfriend’ card, if need be. So far though, she hadn’t had to do that. Which was also probably good, because she’d feel some sort of guilt for pulling that card, even as much as she loved to advertise the fact that she was Wynne’s girlfriend.

Today, she’d gotten an iced tea to go, and had decided to sit outside on the Common, a book of Mesopotamian art opened in front of her. She looked up as she heard someone sit next to her. “I - uh. Yeah. You’re… Winter?” The other’s name had been distinct enough that she recalled it (or at least she hoped she did) without too much trouble. “It was, yes. I’ve never really been to many parties, but I thought it seemed good?” She shut her book. “Though I guess I sort of checked out part way through the night.”

“Winter is correct.” It seemed the people at this party paid more attention to her than she’d thought with the zombie falling off the balcony and all. “You thought it seemed good?” She paused, her drink halfway to her lips but forgotten with this comment. Winter’s eyebrows furrowed while she lowered the coffee in her hand. “I guess if you like a terrifying time then it was right up your alley. I just didn’t get that vibe from you.” In truth, even now, Aria seemed a little...skittish? Was that the word she was reaching for? Either way, she didn’t seem like the kind of person who enjoyed being frightened to death.

She probably shouldn’t have been talking about this out in the open but Aria had been there, it wasn’t like she hadn’t witnessed all of it. Besides, all of the other people littered around the park were out of earshot of the two of them which was a good thing considering what came out of Winter’s mouth next. “Checked out? Were we at the same party? How do you zone out when someone falls off a balcony and then miraculously comes back to life and tries to eat people? Especially when that person is Mack Ross?”

She threw a look towards the blonde, a little taken aback by the fact that she wasn’t as freaked out about this night as the rest had been, Winter more than most. “Have you been around zombies before or something?”

“I don’t like terrifying!” Ariadne practically squeaked. “Not a fan. Scary movies? Not my jam. Why –” her hands shook for a moment, and she pressed them against her thighs firmly to try and get them to stop. “I just – it was like, nice and stuff, and I got to go there with my partner, so…”

She practically choked on her tea at the other’s next comment. “What?” What had happened? “I – no, my – Wynne – Wynne and I, we went off into another room, ‘cause they were feeling a bit tired, and so that’s what I meant by – who – how – what?” Was this some sort of joke? Some sort of not-so-nice-but-somebody-thought-it-funny joke? Ariadne didn’t know, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes. “I promise I wouldn’t zone out if somebody got hurt, I just didn’t see it. I have not been around zombies before. Unless like, halloween and stuff with makeup. What?”

Oh shit. Wait, no, she hadn’t just outed Mack like that, had she? This girl was at the party! SHe should have seen what hap- oh. “Another room? Oh my god…you guys were in another room…” How had Winter not remembered that the blonde was one half of the couple that had been locked away during the whole debacle? The whole night had been a blur in her mind but was she really so dense that she’d forgotten that little detail?

Then again, could anyone blame her for it either? So much had happened and Winter had been terrified, adrenaline rushing through her body while others around her were freaking out as well. Winter pursed her lips while she gripped the coffee in her hands, afraid that the cup was going to break under the weight of it. “Okay, um…you can’t tell anybody what I just told you. Nobody that wasn’t there was supposed to know. I mean, you were there, but I thought you had witnessed it, I swear.”

Not only was Winter worried about Mack hating her for this but that stupid promise she had made was in question now. What if that one girl had been fae? Did that mean Winter had consequences coming to her? The damage was done no matter what though and seeing the tears in the other’s eyes she sighed softly as she pushed aside her own fears. Turns out the other girl was skittish. “Nobody was hurt. I mean, Mack was but she’s completely okay now. It was just a very intense moment for us but no need to cry.”

“I, uh, yeah.” Which would have made her cheeks flush if such a thing were possible, not because of any shame, but more because people having actively noticed her and Wynne wandering off to go off into a room made her feel a bit odd at the thought of attention. But it felt good, too, but then again, Ariadne knew that anything to do with Wynne felt good.

“I won’t.” Her lips trembled, “I wouldn’t do that.” Except didn’t Wynne deserve to know? But Ariadne would think about that another time. Another time that turned very quickly into now with, “but maybe you should tell Wynne, ‘cause it’s not fair if everybody but them knows. But it’s – it’s up to you, sorry to suggest that I – I don’t mean to tell you what to do.” She picked at her nails briefly, not enough to do anything, but just to have something to do while she talked.

While she felt an intense amount of shame and while she had to try and figure out how to not completely and totally freak out.

Which she wasn’t doing a great job of so far. Ariadne looked back over to Winter, “it’s – okay. But she was – how? How is she – what?” She kept her voice low, but she couldn’t help but register a noticeable change in her pitch, still. “Sorry. I – I won’t cry.” Or she’d try not to, at least.

“I actually think that’s up to Mack, not me. I shouldn’t have even told you.” Maybe it wasn’t fair that the other person didn’t know what happened now that Aria did but that really wasn’t a concern for Winter. No, the only thing running through her mind was the promise she’d made to her best friend and how she had just broken it because she couldn’t think for five seconds. It was a lesson learned: never talk about the slumber party again unless Mack brings it up. “She should get the choice that I just took away from her.”

She couldn’t quite understand what Aria was trying to ask but Winter had already given her enough to break her promise so there wasn’t much point in keeping her in the dark of the whole story. Especially when Aria looked like she was barely holding herself together. “Things got stupid while playing Never Have I Ever and some people wanted to go down the staircase on a mattress like in the Princess Diaries. Mack was trying to help get the mattress in place at the top of the stairs and she was knocked over the railing.”

Winter stopped herself, the images of that night coming back to her as she thought about what happened next. She’d never been more terrified in her life, even when her ghost friend had appeared out of nowhere. It wasn’t something she liked reliving that was becoming quite clear. “She came back though.” And tried to eat everyone in the process. “That’s what matters.”

“You – I – okay.” Her words came out fragmented. Ariadne didn’t want to lie to Wynne ever, but this very obviously wasn’t her sort of thing to share, but if everyone else knew, then it seemed cruel to leave Wynne out of it. “You didn’t mean to take it away, I - I’m sorry I made you.” She didn’t especially want any more of her pastry or her drink, any hunger she had turned instead to worry.

Kind as she was, even if she was (understandably) annoyed with Ariadne, Winter went on to give more of an explanation. “To be fair, that scene is one of the coolest in the movies. I’ve just never been anywhere that had a staircase big enough to even think about doing something like that.” Mack was an actor though, and a famous one, apparently, so it made sense that she’d be able to have a staircase like one that Mia had when she was formally a princess.

“I’m glad she came… back. Came back. Yeah.” The idea of zombies (or anything remotely supernatural) still caused Ariadne a great deal of confusion, but she was also dead and had come back and even though she didn’t want to out herself to Winter, she figured that trying extra hard to make things make sense was the least she owed her – and Mack, for that matter.

“You didn’t make me, Aria.” She was side eyeing the girl now, wondering why on earth she had even thought such a thing. It had been a mistake on Winter’s part, not hers and most people would have been quick to point that out, not take the blame themselves. She tapped a finger against the side of her coffee cup as she shook her head, mad at herself for letting out Mack’s secret. If this got back to her, which she was sure it would, her best friend wouldn’t be thrilled at all and she couldn’t blame her for it. “It just…happened. I assumed you were in the room when you weren’t so this isn’t on you at all.”

She was quiet as Aria spoke, knowing that she would never be able to see that scene in the same light again. It would always remind her of that night and what happened. How fucking stupid was it that Winter was going to be triggered by a stupid scene in the Princess Diaries now? “Well, I’m guessing Mack’s staircase wasn’t big enough either. We…should have thought of that but we’d been drinking and we’re all idiots apparently.”

Looking at the blonde, Winter nodded at the sentiment. She was glad that her friend wasn’t actually gone from this world too but being dead wasn’t exactly a fun way to live either judging off what Mack had to eat alone. “I didn’t…mean to ruin your day. You looked like you were on the verge of tears so…yea, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Okay. Okay, fine, if you say so, then I guess it’s true. It has to be, yeah?” Ariadne still wanted to panic, but that wouldn’t look cool in front of someone like Winter, who was pretty much one of the definitions of coolest cool. Because she was from, like, LA or something, and being from a big city automatically made you cool. Or at least that was what Ariadne figured. She wasn’t the most of an expert on that in any way, shape, or form, but she still believed that.

In the very least, it meant that Winter knew more stuff than Ariadne did, but that didn’t necessarily take too much to do. “Nobody’s an idiot. It – I – sorry.” She knew she shouldn’t keep saying sorry, but right now, she couldn’t help it.

“You didn’t ruin it. I – that’s selfish of me to make this about me, anyhow. Like, way selfish. Super selfish.” Ariadne sighed. “I’ll be fine, and I won’t tell Wynne unless you or Mack says I can, alright? I promise.” Though the idea of keeping yet another secret from Wynne made her stomach twist into knots. “And I won’t like, do anything mean to Mack ‘cause of it. I wouldn’t ever.”

“Right, that’s exactly right.” Winter nodded at the blonde, knowing deep down that there was no truth to that statement at all. Nothing had to be true just because she said so but she wasn’t going to break that charade if the other wanted to believe so. She would never speak against herself that way and it seemed to be calming Aria down more.

Everything about this girl seemed to be the exact opposite of Winter. Where she would try to blame others for the shortcomings of life and how things played out, Aria was trying to blame herself. Where she would have done everything she could to show as little reaction as possible to the news, Aria was a little bit of a mess. It was something that really struck Winter, showing her how pure Aria actually was. It also made her really uncomfortable. She wanted to tell Aria to suck it up, to stop blaming herself for everything, to have even an ounce of pride but she was biting her tongue. Just because the medium had a hard time showing people anything other than composure, that didn’t mean everyone else had to be the same.

“It’s not selfish, Aria. It’s a lot to process and digest. You’re allowed to have emotions, you know.” Even if the tears slightly panicked the older woman she couldn’t blame Aria for them at all. Honestly, there had been times when Winter wanted to let her own slip out but she feared she’d never stop if she allowed it to start. It took Henry shocking her out of it last time. “I appreciate you not letting the secret out. I’m sure Mack would too. I never thought you would because I’m pretty sure you don’t have a mean bone in your body but the assurance is nice.” Now things were just getting awkward. The panic in her had died down, Aria was still trying to process everything, but Winter had her assurances and she was ready to get out of this situation. “So, I’m gonna go. If you need to talk about it or anything you just give me a ring…or a message or something.” She stood, giving one last look to Aria to make sure that she wasn't leaving the girl in some sort of really distressed broken state. “Everything is going to be fine.” She nodded, trying to believe the words herself, before she made her leave. Deep down, she was certain that nothing was going to be fine.

#Threads #Thread: Ariadne #Rumor Has It #tw accidental death

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