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(List frequently under construction)

Everything Upward (Star Wars)

In which a hopeful pilot is faced with her wildest dreams and darkest nightmares faster than life itself. More on this can be found on my other blog @that-chandrilan-pilot

Wattpad | AO3

Laws of e(Motion)

uhhh a Jay Walker x OC movieverse fic

(I'll make this better later I promise)

Wattpad | AO3

Tales of Auradon (Descendants)

@celestias-descendants-au for the full AU and more detail

This series follows Elizabeth, Grace, Hannah, Rosa, and their friends while navigating life across Auradon and Neverland through pirate curses, love spells, and the legacy of Belle and Adam's first daughter no one talks about anymore...

You know that when we met, I definitely had the wrong idea about you. I assumed you weren’t just privileged in terms of where you came from, but also had it as a mindset, and weren’t aware of that. You showed me that wasn’t the case quickly, but I still held it against you at times, which wasn’t fair.

I’m sorry I lied about trusting you. You could’ve handled the truth without blowing up at me, but I didn’t even trust that. I should’ve explained how hard it is for me to trust anyone now, instead of telling you what I though you wanted to hear.

And I’m sorry I told you to do all those things that I didn’t actually want you to do. To leave me alone. To let me go back to the Isle without following me. To go back to Auradon and never attempt to contact me again. I thought getting you as far away from me as possible was the best thing for you, that it would keep you safe and give you a better life than what you could’ve had with me. But that was never my choice to make, especially when I so badly want you around me. And I was terrified that if I didn’t tell you to, you’d make that choice by yourself, and then I’d really be alone.

I’m used to lying, manipulation, and people doing anything to get what they want, and I always swore to myself that I’d be better than how I was raised. But I didn’t show you that. I know this is just the surface, and it’s only the start of everything I want to say. If you’d have me, I’d love to talk to you in person. Wherever you want, whenever you’d make time for it. If it’s too late, I understand.

Thank you for hearing me out this far. You’re better than I’ve deserved, but I’m changing that. I’d love you to see it.

Nothing had felt real. And he likely never forget the sound of that man being knocked out, the hard impact noise echoed in his mind. It was the only part of the act he had witnessed.

He closed the door slowly, staring blankly as he ran through every next option. There was a chance he’d take his packed bags, show up to the New Republic flight academy, and get turned away at the gate for association with an ongoing murder investigation. Or he’d be let in tomorrow, only to be called into a commander’s office and dismissed next week. Or everything would be fine for him, and he’d catch a rumour mid training exercise that his friends had been killed in revenge, only to have it confirmed on the news that evening.

“Belun,” his mother softly prompted, now stood in the hallway with him. Had he taken that long by the door. With aching, tired eyes, he looked at her and suddenly felt homesick for a place he hadn’t left yet. Would the academy let their students go home for dinner every once in a while? Without saying a word, he just hugged her. He was taller than her now, but it still felt like he was the one being held, and sheltered from the galaxy.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered. His mother rubbed his back. “I’ve caused such a huge problem, right before I leave.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she reassured him. On a technical level Belun knew he was only a witness to a sound and an unconscious man, that he hadn’t done anything, but the way she said it had equally absolving the blame from Iennyr and Illyha too. “It is a pretty big issue, but I can always defend doing the right thing.”

“Is it still…” he started, his own fears projected onto someone else. Even now as an adult, hearing his mother agree with him might just put some of it to rest. “If he’s dead. Is it still okay?”

“I believe them,” his mother plainly started, “so if Iennyr thought he was that threatening, if Illyha had already been harrassed to that degree, I can only accept that Iennyr used as much force as she thought was necessary.” She took a step back to look Belun in the eye. “I think we both know she didn’t mean serious harm.” Belun nodded. He agreed with all of it. Another beat of silence washed over them “You’ve got a big day tomorrow,” his mother continued like he was a child again, “you should go and get as much sleep as you can before then.”

“Okay,” he agreed. His mother placed her hand against his cheek, and offered him a soft smile, before he moved past her and back inside their home.

Jalinne Toonch stayed by the front door of her home for the next half hour, checking the locks for five minutes, and sitting on the floor with he rback against it for the remaining twenty-five. Her ex-husband may have specialised in taxation law, but he’d surely have connections in criminal and homicide. That was the first point of contact. Regardless of any lingering bad feelings towards her that she was unaware of, he loved his son. Should that fall through, her own connections at the office might be of value. Someone somewhere would probably be able to connect her with a lawyer if she only asked.

None of it felt real, no matter how adjusted Jalinne thought she’d become to things changing in one night. Her son, involved in a potential murder case. His closest friends, kids she’d known for years, who’d been doing her laundry and alterations all this time, getting caught up in so much violence.

Ironically, the university hosted their graduation at the city’s theatre, the venue Emilia had performed in for her last module, the penultimate day she was on campus in general.

The day before she’d seriously nearly been killed. It had made the stab wound seem like nothing.

Parking at the theatre again set a tremour through her whole body, the same kind of deep buried shudder you felt after being outside in the freezing cold all day. Thankfully, they weren’t too early.

“Do you still have my ticket?” her father asked, bringing Emilia back to the moment. It took her a second to process what he’d said at all, before she rummaged through her small crossbody bag to find it for him. “Thanks.”

“I guess I’ll see you afterwards?” she mumbled, filled with dread that she’d be recognised and somehow attacked again despite the formal agreement to let her graduate, and this would be the last time she saw her dad at all.

“See you later,” he replied brightly, accepting her wavering prompt for an awkward side hug, and kissing the top of her head. “I’m proud of you Meelie.”

“Thanks dad, see you later,” she replied, before heading to the signposted graduate entrance without giving in to the urge to look back over her shoulder.

Inside, Emilia nearly wished she’d got there earlier. Graduates were everywhere, and with all the caps and gowns uniforming them, she struggled to even try to recognise anyone. Thankfully everything was signposted, the line to pick up a hired gown stretching around two roped-off bends, and the photography hall another corridor down. May as well join the line now.

“Em!”

She frantically scanned the crowd for the familiar voice, heart in her throat and tears threatening to drag her mascara down her cheeks as she was absorbed in panic.

“Em, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Katy smiled at her, she was smiling, she was okay. And by the way she was standing, her knee injury had healed well in the months since they’d last seen each other. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I don’t know how you are,” she honestly admitted. “I am so on edge.” Then Emilia looked just past her, noticing the very reason for Katy’s ease. Freddie, Freya, and Johnny were all just behind her, a mix of encouraging and sympathetic smiles.

“It’s okay, we’re all sticking together now,” Katy replied, deciding for her. “I’m so glad you came, I haven’t seen you since…”

“Who am I talking to?” a male voice on the other end asked, quickly catching onto the fact Bianca was not the one who’d called. Bella didn’t recognise them. “Where’s Bianca, have you stolen her phone?” From where she sat, Bianca couldn’t hear the other side of the call, for if she could, she quickly could have intervened with the misunderstanding.

“I’m not telling you where she is,” Bella firmly said.

“What have you done to her. why does someone else have her phone?” Bradley accused. One minute he’d been putting his guitar in its case, ready to meet Bianca to watch the Half Past Never set, and the next he was frantically scanning the far denser crowd and coming to terms with the fact she wasn’t in it. “I finish my set, and she’s gone, where is she?”

That didn’t make sense. Bianca would never have gone to anything Merrick was supposed to be playing, Bella knew better than that.

“What— Is this Merrick?”

“No, what—?” he stuttered in utter confusion, but the assumption quickly made sense. “It’s Bradley.”

“I am so sorry oh my god, this is mortifying,” Bella apologised to him, before passing the phone back to Bianca, “it’s Bradley.”

“Bradley, hi, I’m so sorry about that,” Bianca started, quickly interrupted by his panic from across town.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, that terrified me,” he admitted, “I was about to threaten to fight her, I don’t know how to fight anyone.” Bianca laughed, relief to him that she was okay at very least. Bella smiled from beside her. “Is everything okay? Are you still at the pub?”

“No, I… I’m so sorry I should’ve told you, I couldn’t— I…” she sighed, trying to string the words together in any way that wouldn’t restart a panic attack. “I’m by the docks, I’m with Bella.”

“I got that much,” Bradley gently replied. “Can I come and meet you, or did you leave to call an end to tonight?”

“No, no not at all, it’s nothing about you,” Bianca started, realising what she’d actually said. “I’d love you to come and meet me. I’m so sorry things went the way they did, I’ll explain, I promise.”

“It’s okay,” Bradley interrupted her spiral, “you can tell me as much as you want when I find you.”

It took him another ten minutes of walking, following the live location map Bianca had sent to his number, which she’d now saved. As he turned down the last road, a tiny alley, the sound of water lapping against stone clashed with the strong smell of weed, but upon hearing Bianca’s laugh he was reassured enough to follow it.

“Bianca?” he softly called around the corner, giving her and Bella the chance to stand before he got to them. He smiled in relief at actually seeing her. “Hi.”

“Hey,” she smiled, sudden nervousness overtaking her, the amount she’d smoked doing nothing to touch it. If nothing else, she knew she was glad to see him.

“Is everything okay?” Bradley continued. There must’ve been a good reason for her to leave, especially so suddenly.

“Yeah,” Bianca replied, an obvious untruth, but she was yet to manage to explain it was an attempt to hide reality from herself, not him. “I mean, no, not totally, but it kind of is now?” She needed to start explaining things, and fast. “I’m high.”

“I could’ve guessed that, yeah,” Bradley nodded towards the joint still loosely gripped between her fingers. “What happened?”

“Do you want me to leave you two?” Bella whispered needlessly. “Leave you to your evening plans?”

“Thank you,” Bianca said. “I’ll get you back sometime, I’ll text.”

“No worries,” Bella brushed the sentiment aside. They were there for each other, that was how it had always been. “Have fun.”

The atmosphere between Bianca and Bradley shifted the moment Bella had left back down the alleyway. Despite the slight fuzziness to her fingertips and the world around her, and the inherent unseriousness of how everything sounded, Bianca quickly felt herself sobering up under the pressure to get things right. Bradley waited for her to say the thing that was so evidently on her mind in the way she stared into space.

“Merrick and Jake showed up,” Bianca blurted out before she could overthink it any more. “That was… that’s it, really.”

“To watch me?” Bradley clarified. He hadn’t noticed them, not at any point that evening, and the oversight had started eating away at him the second she mentioned it. How had he not noticed…

“They arrived just after you finished,” she continued explaining. “I ran, I’m so sorry I should’ve said something, I just couldn’t—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bradley softly told her, placing a gentle hand on her upper arm. When she softened against his touch, he slid his hand down to her forearm, and held her other arm in his free hand. “I should’ve texted you. That must’ve been stressful to get missed calls from a number you don’t recognise.”

“It’s saved now,” she promised. “And I should’ve texted you too.”

“No, it’s not your fault, don’t worry,” Bradley said, hoping to totally put a stop to her endless apologies. He couldn’t completely comprehend what she must’ve felt upon seeing her ex again so soon, but he’d certainly felt mind-numbing panic before. “It’s okay, I’m with you again now.”

“I’m sorry I ruined our night,” she continued, “I loved your set though.”

“Yeah?” he softly smiled, focussing on the better parts of her evening. “Night’s not over yet Bee, what do you want to do with it?”

“I want you to hold me,” she bluntly replied, and as soon as she’d made the request, he did, gently moving her against his chest. “Was that too forward?” she mumbled.

Truthfully, Bradley was the main reason she’d gone out at all. Of course a Half Past Never gig was worth her time too, especially with Bradley, but she knew her presence mattered to him. If she didn’t by his specific invitation that bordered on a request for her to be there, she certainly did by how often his gaze landed on her while he performed.

The empty time while he packed away his gear was also to be expected. Bianca considered getting a drink or something in the time between sets but instead waited in her seat to hold the one next to her for when Bradley was done backstage. Being alone didn’t get to her like she’d worried it might, not for a couple of minutes while the people around her chatted amongst themselves. That changed when the door opened.

Jake, a head taller than Merrick who walked a little ahead of him, stepped into the pub like they were on some kind of guest list, or at least best friends with the headlining band. Later, days later, she’d consider just how her former best friend was dressed now, but in the moment her nervous system was focussed on nothing but flight.

Bianca bolted.

Out the door and down the street, she walked until she couldn’t even see the venue anymore. It was only when she got to the very bottom of the hill that she realised just how awful it looked to anyone else. Especially to Bradley. With trembling hands she took her phone from her pocket, her whole body shaking so violently she feared it would make her sick. Blurry vision from tears crowding her widened eyesmade it hard to see, and the stiffness in her fingers stopped her typing anything coherent, if she’d even been able to think up such a message. Instead she called Bella.

Bella worked by the dock, waitressing at a little family restaurant to pay the rent on the flat upstairs. She was also the only person Bianca knew who had no involvement with anyone but her. The ringtone stopped, Bella had answered the call.

“Hello?” Bianca begged for her friend to say something, just to know she was there, that she was totally alone.

“Hey, you good?” Bella knew where Bianca was supposed to be, and there was no good reason to get a phone call in the middle of Half Past Never’s setlist, or during her shift.

“Merrick showed,” Bianca told her, and everything made sense. “Jake with him. At Half Past's gig.”

“Bee, oh Bee I'm so sorry, we don’t need to talk about it,” Bella said, trying to come up with anything to make things better. It just reminded Bianca how many times something like this had happened, how often in the last six months someone else had apologised for Merrick’s existence. Were things really never going to change now? “I get off work in ten minutes, I can probably leave sooner. I’ll meet you at our smoke spot?”

"Awesome,” Bianca shakily agreed, trying to pull directions from her mind while everything was still hazy. “I’ll see you there.”

“I’ll see you as soon as I can,” Bella promised.

Their smoke spot was a small stone platform tucked behind a boat shed, overlooking the dock. Lights from the boats reflected off the water as Bianca paced the tiny distance before sitting on the ground, her focus flickering over each rippling reflection. The adrenaline surge she’d felt upon seeing Merrick and Jake again had mostly faded now, leaving her trembling in the evening cold.

“Bee?” Bella’s voice had her jumping to her feet, heart racing before her mind caught up. She rounded the corner, taken aback at how terrified her friend looked. Bianca was just relieved to see someone safe. Bella scooped her into a tight hug, and it was enough for Bianca to totally break down in her arms.

“Thank you so much for coming to get me,” Bianca sobbed.

“Shh, I got you,” Bella reassured her, unmoving aside from rubbing her back, like it was nothing. “Hey,” she continued. Bianca stepped back and she reached into her jacket pocket to produce a slightly bent hand-rolled joint. “You don’t have to, but I thought I could at least try and improve your night a little?”

“Yes please,” Bianca sighed, the two of them sitting by the water. Bella lit the end, before passing it straight to Bianca. On an empty stomach and raging adrenaline, it went straight to her head.

Staring out across the water, she rested her head on Bella’s shoulder, watching the tiny ripples bob across the surface.

“Thank you,” Bianca softly smiled, struggling to focus her gaze on anything more and more with each toke. “I think you saved me.”

“I told you, I’ve got you,” Bella promised. Bianca took her phone from her pocket to double check the time, aware the buses back ran out if she stayed too late. She never even got to unlocking her phone though, for her lockscreen held four missed calls from an unknown number. She’d blocked Merrick though, and Jake would still be a saved contact. Unless…

School was a fashion show, at least a practice ground, and every compliment Arielle received fuelled her. Years of meticulously curating her own outfits had rewarded her with a great social standing. The moment she saw Poppy, she saw the potential of a new mannequin. Listening to her talk about how she’d be attending red carpet events any day now, for months, only solidified her plan. Singing and dancing around on stage sounded like a high stress worst nightmare, but being the one to dress that celebrity? She'd been researching fashion schools for years.

 “Have you considered wearing pink?” Arielle casually mentioned midway through Poppy’s excited news of a Valentine’s Day party she’d been invited to. ‘Guest list exclusive’ apparently. Arielle understood people well, and had years of experience under her belt to be sure that the subtle comment would totally rattle her.

“I mean, I got some really great comments about the lilac gown I wore on my last carpet,” Poppy countered, her confidence false and Arielle could see it.

“Yeah but it’s Valentine’s,” Arielle half agreed like it was obvious, like Poppy deserved better. “Look, you’ve still got time, right?” Poppy nodded, eyes slightly wider with subtle awareness of the time pressure. Of course she couldn’t get close to repeating a look, that was common knowledge now. “So let me draw a few things up and we can go from there.”

“This is why you’re my best friend,” Poppy sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

The long taxi journey was already making her feel slightly sick, the nerves helping nothing, and the only constant in Elizabeth’s mind was how pathetic she’d become in a week. Outside of that, she tried to focus on Neverland. This should be her place. In a few hours she’d be meeting her new roomate, someone she could try and be kind to in the hope that collaboration could get her the answers she was looking for. Or, after the week she’d had in Auradon, intimidation would at least get her left alone. Or maybe she’d spend the night on the beach, staring at the ocean to try and find a sense of right, and this would be a decision for the following morning.

The room as tidy, at least to Ivy’s standards. She heard the car engine outside, the tyres rolling over the gravel path, and finally the engine turn off. Silence really pit her heart in her mouth. She’d had her own hours of overthinking but had ultimately decided that sitting on her bed was the best way to present herself; someone who respected their own space, and was non-confrontationally laid back. Footsteps along the corridor. Her heartbrat pounded in her ears, and the door opened.

Elizabeth stood in the doorway like a deer in headlights, as if she had a sword and shield ready to hide behind. Her new roomate was smaller than her, looked more timid than her, seemed kinder than her. And in response, all Elizabeth felt was shame. She stayed silent without knowing what to do about it.

Ivy mentally scolded herself for judging someone before knowing a thing about them, or at least before actually meeting them. The uncertainty in her eyes proved she'd seen a lot, Ivy's assessment landing somewhere between certainty that anyone from the Isle who looked scared had seen something horrific since, and that no matter how tough she was, the Isle was designed to mess people up. Either way, she stood slowly, and approached Elizabeth as if she was a frightened animal.

“Hi,” she started softly, “my name's Ivy.”

“I'm Elizabeth,” she replied like she'd been told to.

“I know,” Ivy started, realising it sounded threateningly ambiguous. “My friend, he's Wendy's son, he told me you were arriving tonight, that your name was Elizabeth and you're from the Isle of the Lost.” And now she'd said too much. “I'm not scared or anything.”

“Okay.”

The silence stretched on, the awkwardness thick.

“Can I help you unpack, or anything?” Ivy offered. Truthfully Elizabeth hadn’t planned to unpack her bag. But she was presented with the question, and she still hadn’t settled fully on an approach.

“If you want, I guess.”

The breeze across the beach had put out Bianca’s joint twice. Her tongue tasted burnt, each attempt to relight it went worse than the last, and even though she was still alone it was starting to feel embarrassing. Maybe it was the company she expected.

“Bianca,” the company greeted her, “unlike you to ask to meet one-on-one outside.” Nathan smiled, the personality that had gained her interest in the first place shining strongly as ever. “Although I’m down to try something new if that’s what this really is?” He couldn’t have missed the mark further. As he sat down beside her in the sand, Bianca wordlessly passed him the joint and her lighter. He understood that request, taking a very generous drag to relight it for her.

“I need a favour,” she dryly replied. “I get it if your answer’s no.” Just high enough for the edges of her mind to feel a little fuzzy, Bianca tipped her head back to look up at the night sky, the breeze rushing past her cheeks and prompting her to prevent the joint go out again. “Somehow Merrick’s got in to play that award’s evening.”

“Oh, Bee,” Nathan paused. His lighthearted joke about sex on the beach at midnight felt incredibly out of place now. Every bit of information he’d received over the last six months collided in his mind at once as he watched her inhale another lungful of weed. First the request for her to host said awards evening, followed by the harsh end of a very long and just as abusive relationship. Now Bianca would be sharing a stage with that ex.

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me,” she complained, for the amount of times someone had said her name like that was getting too many to count. Nathan was supposed to be her escape from it all. “But could you come with me?” It sounded stupid out loud. “I know we’re not together, but bringing a date I can hide behind could be pretty helpful.” In the time she’d taken to ask, the joint was out again. Nathan took it from between her fingers wordlessly. He didn’t think harder than ever about his lips touching where hers just had as he relit it for her.

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Maren sat on the rail shuttle still braiding her hair, her third attempt now at a neat enough braid to wrap a ribbon around. On the seat beside her was the pile of her things: her school bag, her jacket, her flute, and under it all was Salis. Each turn the shuttle made, he held a little tighter onto the multiple bags, pre-empting her bodyweight slamming against his side where she hadn’t expected the shuttle to turn.

“Ribbon,” she commanded, and Salis held out the blue silk for her to grab.

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Handwriting practice had always been Salis’ least favourite class, becausw of how slowly time seemed to move. Instead of pretending to participate, he watched the clock as every minute inched by, counting them down until he’d meet his sister for lunch. He tapped the soles of his stiff shoes on the ground in sporadic rhythm, occasionally kicking against his bag, the metal lunchbox inside providing a solid surface to resound against. Still half of class to go before he and Maren got lunch. His friends had started making fun of him for it, that he was too old to be hanging around with her still. Every excuse he gave of making sure she was okay, worried that she was struggling to make friends, was only half the truth.

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The sun shone brightly, the sky as blue as the ocean, and the grass Salis sat in was greener than he’d probably ever seen it. The thick headstone he leant against held his weight right back. And he knew when he finally did move, his whole body would protest it in a series of stiffness and aches. Each heartbeat of his own resounded in a shockwave of pain through his head, his eyes so swollen that they were hard to keep open, but after nearly two weeks he’d accepted this was his existence now. For he couldn’t remember one without his sister.

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The dishes were cleaned. The side too, wiped down until it sparkled. The floors were mopped and hoovered, every piece of kitchen equipment returned to its reflective silver state. His parents had long left the dining table, it was dark outside. Salis sat. His most formal shoes pinched his feet and felt far too firm on the floor, but they were still. His fork had slipped onto his plate, the handle submerged in gravy, while he rested the side of his hand on the wooden table, fingers outstretched as if he was still holding it, but they were still. Maren wouldn’t be coming back downstairs to join him. But still, he waited.

⋅˚⋆₊‧𓆡⋅˚₊‧.࿔｡˚

“What’s this?” Salis asked, his tone almost accusatory. It certainly seemed that way. There wasn’t a reality in which the Water Keeper  wouldn’t recognise a fish pie.

“We weren’t able to source only one species of local fish,” the attendant apologised. Beside him, Salis felt Zephyr tense at the conflict, almost reading the plea to just leave it from his mind. There was so much he didn’t know.

Salis forced a deep breath, rephrasing a refusal of the meal over and over in his mind for the least offensive option, but all the words blurred together.