𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡; ♡

𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑   𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐇𝐘   a   fandomless   original   character   affiliated   with   the   spooksgrove   roleplay   group   .   loved   by   moxi   (   26   ,   she   /   her   )   –   exploration   of   a   man   unable   to   excape   his   past   self   ,   ghosts   and   other   spooky   stuff

wanted   connections   ;

the   ex-wife   

the   ex-wife's   new   lover   –   jack   medina

the   best   friend

the   bully   

the   first   love   –   drea   anthony

the   positive   influence   –   henry   danvers

the   negative   influence

the   one   who   knows

the   one   who   committed   it   –   rachel   goldmann

the   tinder   match

              isabel shut off her engine and stared at the cabin ahead of her for a moment  ,,  just resting in her car as it sat parked in the driveway.  she was immediately regretting coming here.  not only did the building ahead giver her the fucking creeps  ,,  but knowing the people who she was about to be face to face with was stressing her out.  it was weird ,, every moment of her life was perfectly scheduled by her staffers now ,,  but here in shady grove she was on her own ,, the freedom felt like a trap.  

           with a sigh,  she crawled out and caught eyes with the last person she’d expected to see:  asher.  stupid,  but at least she could handle him.  the night they’d shared together at prom was so distant now.  “hey,”  she greeted the man with an expression lacking a smile.  “remind me whose fucking idea it was to come here so i can be sure to push them in front of any demons who try to kill us in there.”  /  closed starter for @falsd·

that   smoke   was   needed   so   desperately,   for   a   moment   he   was   convinced   he   wouldn’t   go   back   in   if   he   didn’t   suck   the   life   right   out   of   the   glooming   tobacco   stick   between   his   lips.   nicotine   numbing   him   some   and   helping   him   to   calm   down.   he   should   have   known   when   he   came   here   that   there’d   be   a   few   unpleasant   surprises.   had   he   not   expected,   though,   for   them   to   be   so   confronting.   sat   on   the   stairs   of   the   porch   when   the   car   approaches.   fancy   one.   nothing   like   anything   he   could   ever   own.   women   exiting   vehicle,   not   surprising   him   one   bit.   she   looked   exactly   like   that   car   belonged   to   her.   “hey.”   brunette   offers   a   smile   but   it   never   reaches   his   eyes.   both   of   them   stiff,   conversation   not   coming   as   easily   as   he   had   hoped.   “pretty   sure   it   was   one   of   the   demons   itself   who   insisted   on   the   reunion   to   take   place   here.”   asher   tries   cracking   a   joke   but   silences   him   with   another   drag   at   the   cigarette.   he’d   never   been   the   funny   friend   after   all.

they watch the tension written in the lines of his back — he won’t even look at them, christ alive — & it’s hard not to match his energy, not to let their relaxed, open posture turn into a spring wound tight, defensive. territorial, maybe, if they were a different person. but they’ve spent a lifetime learning how to let it all roll off their back, & when they say “cool” it’s with their usual casual indifference, though the l is drawn out longer than it needs to be. they start to turn, the floor creaking beneath their boots, & then they pause, still framed by the doorway. “look, i’m not trying to start shit here. if you want me to act like you don’t exist all reunion, i can do that just fine.” easier, then, to ignore his resemblance to his daughter, uncanny as it is. ( they don’t think of her as theirs, not yet. won’t let themself, though there’s barely a damn thing a parent does that they don’t. )

avoid,   avoid,   avoid.   asher   just   wanted   to   avoid.   he   wanted   to   avoid   them,   wanted   to   avoid   this   conversation   and   wanted   to   avoid   the   reality   of   what   his   life   had   come   down   to.   because   every   instinct   in   him   automatically   wanted   to   snap   at   jack.   wanted   to   put   his   foot   down   and   speak   his   mind.   but   it   was   impossible.   if   he   wanted   the   slightest   bit   of   maevis   in   his   life   ...   he’d   have   to   play   nice.   would   have   to   pretend   he   was   happy   they   were   there   for   her.   frozen   in   motion   for   a   moment.   needs   to   let   words   sink   in,   needs   to   find   the   right   words,   needs   to   find   the   right   tone.   “it’s   fine.”   he   finally   mutters   and   stands   up   from   where   he’d   dug   around   his   suitcase.   gray   orbs   finally   meeting   their   face.   “there   is   no   need   to   put   up   an   act.”   even   though   he   was   already   doing   that.   tension   felt   but   refuses   to   address   it.   for   her.   all   for   her   ...

                  ♡       “has it really been twenty years? actually? oh god…” exaggerated sigh, truthfully he makes her feel ancient. opening up the asher box was cloaks of lead thrown over her shoulders. too heavy, weighed more given all of the context she’d never been able to share. in the first few years, she had wondered, too, if ultimately she’d made the wrong choice by ditching him. called themselves the stone cold bitch who used him, did everything she could to minimize the fact that it had been love. young, stupid love. something that bit down hard, dug it’s heels in and demanded her attention, even when they’d known each-other half a lifetime ago. she hadn’t had it since. maybe kept it from herself as penance for being the person who broke his heart. “catch me up, let me hear the highlights.” that churn in her stomach when he smiles, she’ll explain that away with ease-nerves or something, but she can’t help that she’s beaming, tiniest bites taken in between. drea can’t look away, cognitive dissonance in how different and the same he seemed. scruffy and large and weathered, but in a good way—he’s got texture, and her attention. what had asher made of himself? “houses? cars? kids? … dare i say, grandkids?”

“oh   come   on,   i’m   not   that   old.”   brunette   chuckles   and   finally   abandons   the   spoon   so   they   can   stay   focussed   on   their   conversations.   so   easy   when   her   smile   is   intoxicating.   triggers   him   to   smile   right   back   at   her.   tension   in   his   body   that   he   had   grown   so   used   to   now   released   –   even   if   just   for   a   few   seconds.   it’s   still   there.   even   if   it’s   soft   and   quiet.   the   feelings   for   her   still   alive,   that   unforgettable   bond   they   once   shared.   he   wished   they   never   lost   it.   wished   they   had   had   an   actual   chance   together.   how   unfortunate   that   she   had   chosen   a   different   path   for   herself   and   he   had   to   be   okay   with   it.   wonders   what   their   future   could   have   been   like   together,   what   their   life   would   have   looked   like.   but   the   what   ifs   won’t   get   him   anywhere.   because   this   casual   conversation   over   lunch   was   the   most   he   would   get   and   he   knew   it.   “one   child.”   he   finally   offers.   “she’s   almost   ten.   great   girl.”   like   he   knew   much   about   that.   sarah   barely   let   him   see   her.   raised   her   with   another   man.   but   at   heart   he   knew   that   if   she   was   anything   like   her   parents,   she   had   to   be   a   lovely   girl.   “i’m   currently   living   in   london.   for   work.”   brunette   admits   and   half   lies.   because   was   the   reason   not   the   desperate   attempt   to   avoid   situations   like   these?   to   hide   from   what   his   life   used   to   be   and   try   to   be   someone   who   he   wasn’t?   “what   about   you?   i   wanted   to   say   i   expect   at   least   two   small   ones   but   you   look   like   you   get   good   night   sleeps   so   i’m   curious.   anyone   you   share   your   life   with?”

she often found herself gazing into a dark well of merlot swilling in tandem with the curl of her wrist when everything else grew too loud. it was easy to get lost in it - a gentle fixation, a hypnotic dance to follow. the wine curdled gently with those two white pills in the pit of her stomach, and they were working their magic - to an extent, at least. still, there were veins running deep within the ground beneath her feet she was too weak-willed to uproot, faces she wished not to confront. embarrassments she wished not to revisit. asher’s pillar in her life had once been a sturdy one, but that was back when they were teenagers. back when the complexities of high school politics meant their paths did not intertwine complicatedly, but rather ran seamlessly parallel. they were friends - good ones, at that. it was almost a decade later she’d taken a dive she so rarely took; attempted to warm her frozen limbs in his fire, foolishly mistaking that old friendliness as something brand new. it was enough to box her back up and pack her in tight - she felt she may not have taken even the slightest of risks since then. burned wasn’t the word; she was scalded, scarred. it was a needless overreaction, and she knew this. but contending with her irrationalities was never a skill she’d cared to refine. 

asher is kind-hearted. perhaps too much so - it only made sense that he would understand, that he’d be forgiving. but too much time had passed, and she could convince herself of anything if she was only given the time. now, she noticed he was gearing up to approach her again, though she’d artlessly dodged him several times since arrival. there was nowhere to run now, even if her gaze did flit rapidly to search for the nearest exits. her spine straightened as he greeted her, avoiding his eye for a moment. even so, what could she do? pretend she hadn’t heard him? her own immaturity startled her at times. “i don’t… smoke,” she began disjointedly, looking down into her wine. she blew out a sudden, hard sigh. fuck it - right? might as well rip the bandaid off. she swallowed the remainder of her glass in one mouthful and reached for the bottle, then for her coat. “sorry. yes. that was rude. i can just… drink instead.” her heart pounded painfully, but she pulled her coat over her shoulders and met his eyes, attempting a smile that never quite reached her mouth. “let’s go.”

it’s   almost   expected   that   she   tries   turning   down   the   offer   at   first.   after   all,   she’d   make   a   big   deal   out   of   avoiding   that   moment   so   far   and   if   he’d   be   any   less   persistent,   asher   knew   they’d   never   talk   about   it.   maybe   it   would   be   easier,   maybe   ignoring   the   awkwardness   would   be   the   simpler   way   out   of   it,   but   where   would   it   get   them?   where   would   that   take   them?   next   high   school   reunion,   just   as   uncomfortable?   one   of   them   ditching   altogether   just   to   prevent   running   into   each   other?   it   was   sad   to   think   about   that.   sad   for   so   many   reasons.   biggest   one   that   they   used   to   work   so   well.   used   to   be   able   to   lean   on   each   other,   to   listen   to   each   other,   be   there   for   each   other.   the   type   of   trust   he   craved.   reason   for   why   shoulders   roll   back   when   relief   washed   through   him   once   she   seemed   to   have   changed   her   mind.   an   opening.   a   foot   in   the   door.   a   chance   to   make   up.   and   he   fully   intended   to   make   the   most   of   it.   “sounds   fair.”   ash   plays   it   off   cool,   doesn’t   want   to   freak   her   out   despite   being   fairly   excited   that   she   joined   him.

terrace   door   held   open   for   her   so   the   two   of   them   can   slip   outside.   air   fresh,   freezing   almost   –   just   what   he   needs   to   stay   grounded   right   now.   “thanks   for   joining   me.   how   are   you   doing?   excited   to   see   everyone?   we   didn’t   talk   in   a   while   ...”   the   normality   with   which   he   tried   entering   the   conversation   was   truly   the   most   absurd   part   of   everything.   like   he   hadn’t   tried   calling   her   before,   like   there   hadn’t   been   unanswered   text   messages.   not   that   he   would   hold   it   against   her.   and   yet   he   yearned   for   answers.   cigarette   lit   and   drag   taken   from   it.   he   keeps   his   distance,   doesn’t   want   her   to   inhale   the   smelly   smoke,   and   doesn’t   want   her   to   feel   pressured   in   the   conversation   they   were   about   to   have.   “you   know   it’s   ...   all   good   between   us,   right?”   asher   tries   carefully.   “that   night   didn’t   change   anything   for   me.   i’m   happy   to   see   you   again.   and   i   wish   there   was   a   way   for   me   to   make   you   feel   the   same.”   a   little   bolder   now,   but   maybe   the   firm   words   she   needs   to   understand   where   he’s   coming   from.

Tray of sweets in one hand, phone in the other, she traverses through the cabin at a leisurely pace, admiring the decor. Shivers wrack her frame and she’s keeps running into drafty parts of the rooms she traverses into but she guesses that not everything can be perfect, can it? Rachel has met up with many friends already and she knows that, somewhere lurking about, Asher resides in the cabin as well. She’s beyond nervous for their meeting, which is why she’s walking headfirst into the danger in search of him. She hates the anticipation, the dread settling low in her belly… 

Coming around the corner to one of the rooms, she spots him clearly and a nervous grin pulls at her face. She feels like fidgeting but her hands are purposefully full right now. “Want some sweets?” She asks, voice lilting and purposefully bright, friendly. “Baked them fresh a little earlier,” nodding, proud of herself, Rachel carries on nervously, “bet you heard me bustling around in the kitchen.” 

originally,   the   idea   of   coming   here   had   sounded   so   appealing.   there   were   a   few   people   he   was   looking   forward   to   catching   up   with.   a   few   faces   he   wanted   to   see,   few   friends   he   remembered   and   wondered   where   life   had   carried   them.   a   few.   he   could   count   their   names   on   one   hand.   euphoria   had   gotten   the   better   of   him.   stepping   foot   onto   spooky   grove   grounds   had   done   it’s   job   of   making   him   feel   uneasy.   heaviness   settled   in   his   gut,   getting   comfortable   there   –   fingers   feeling   cold,   stomach   sour.   next   to   the   faces   he   had   hoped   to   see   ...   too   many   faces   he   tried   to   avoid   but   unable   to   do   so   in   the   cabin   that   had   been   rented   for   this.   unable   to   walk   past   ghosts   of   his   past   that   he   tried   to   forget   about.

asher   had   done   a   fairly   good   job   of   leaving   the   room   whenever   she   approached.   from   the   living   area   to   the   kitchen.   from   the   kitchen   to   the   bedrooms,   from   bedrooms   to   the   bathroom,   back   to   the   living   space   again.   until   there   was   no   more   escaping.   until   she’d   crept   up   on   him   and   icy   gray   orbs   found   face   of   someone   he’d   once   considered   a   lover.   now   nothing   but   tension   felt.   all   the   things   they   could   have   been   now   meaningless.   all   that   he   had   hoped   for   them   buried   deep   under   the   weight   tugging   at   his   heart.   “i’m   good,   thanks.”   he   manages   to   squeeze   out.   voice   almost   seems   to   fail   him.   she.   the   reason   he’d   lost   years   and   years   of   his   life.   the   reason   his   heart   had   been   shattered   and   his   mind   now   scattered.   “maybe   after   dinner.”   asher   tries   so   make   up   for   putting   down   the   offer   so   quickly.   because   even   now.   even   after   all   that   has   happened,   all   the   things   never   said   out   loud,   even   now   the   least   he   wants   is   for   her   to   hurt   because   of   him.   “still   enjoy   baking,   hm?”   corner   of   his   mouth   tugged   up   to   expand   silent   apology.   

closed starter 𝐟𝐨𝐫 asher ! @falsd

                  ♡       “i’m not, like, a narcissist, i swear.” she references the large portrait of herself hanging on the wall. it’s oddly empty in the studio apartment, minus a dinner table, couch, painting easel, and lots of old photography. this was more of a workspace than a home- much less intimate and frightening than inviting asher over to her actual place.  still, it was embarrassing to have to stare at yourself for the entirety of a date. perhaps she should have stuck with her original idea of something public, but asher was no stranger. she’s told herself for the better part of a decade that childhood feelings didn’t actually  matter, and still here he was sitting across from her. eating her couscous… but was it really a date—could that be the word for it? it feels like it, she’s dressed for it, still there was a hesitation in the thought. “i still can’t believe we’ve been so close to each other and that was the first time we caught one another. kismet, right?”

   words   put   half   a   smile   on   his   face   and   asher   nods   slowly.   food   in   the   bowl   pushed   back   and   forth   with   the   spoon   a   little,   so   he   doesn’t   stuff   his   face   while   they’re   talking.   not   very   polite,   not   very   elegant.   “yeah   kismet   ...”   he   repeats   her   words   though,   was   it   really   fate?   was   it   fate   that   he   had   avoided   his   past   for   years   and   years   by   moving   to   a   different   continent?   was   it   fate   that   after   everything,   he   had   tried   moving   on   in   a   place   he   didn’t   know   and   where   nobody   knew   him,   and   therefore   their   paths   never   crossed?   not   sure   whether   he   wanted   to   believe   it,   leaves   the   comment   stand   as   it   is   for   now.   grey   and   blue   eyes   directed   at   her.   face   he   had   so   blindly   fallen   in   love   with   once,   never   questioned   whether   they   belonged   together,   always   wondering   what   had   made   her   think   they   didn’t.   still   wondering.   decades   passed   and   ash   still   wondered.   “it   seems   we   just   got   lucky   now.   how   many   years   has   it   been   now?   20   ...   ish?”   gentle   smile   directed   at   her.   almost   half   that   time   spent   where   she   would   have   never   been   able   to   find   him.   a   place   he   wanted   to   keep   hidden   from   her.