#female moth | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ch4singchase · 3 months

Text

The Ballad of Moths | LUKE CASTELLAN

Summary: The group of demigods face Thalia's injury, should they continue their journey or look for a way to remedy the girl's condition?

Word count: 4.3K

Warnings: Mentions of blood and Injury, mention to violence, description of emotional distress and description of medical situations (treating injuries with antibiotics and bandages etc)

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three | series masterlist

chapter 03: Sometimes, People Are Just People

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in the backseat of my mom's car—an old black Impala that carried the lingering aroma of spilled coffee. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the steady motion of the vehicle hinted at our journey.

Before fully waking up, I stole a glance at the front seat, where my mother navigated the route with a map by her side. The details of our destination eluded my groggy mind, another day unfolding in the tapestry of our lives.

"Is everything okay, ma?" I asked, rubbing my eyes to dispel the remnants of sleep.

Caught off guard by my voice, my mom turned to look at me through the rearview mirror, weariness etched across her face.

"Yes, mausi," she attempted a smile, though it failed to reach her eyes. "Sorry if I woke you up; you can go back to sleep."

"No, no, I'm good," I stretched my arms, shaking off the fatigue. "I woke up on my own."

"Good to hear that," my mother nodded, redirecting her gaze to the road while stifling a yawn. "We still have a fair distance to the hotel—probably another hour or so."

Surveying the quiet highway, devoid of much traffic except for the occasional weary traveler, I suggested, "If you want, I can take over for a while, and you can rest."

My mother cast a puzzled look at me through the rearview mirror. "This isn't a parking lot."

"I know," I pressed my lips together, "But you're tired, and the road is nearly empty. I can follow the map until you feel more rested. I've been observing you drive, you know…"

Mrs. Gaumont sighed audibly, as if seeking approval from the powers above for her impending decision. Whatever doubts she harbored, she decided to proceed.

"Okay," she relented, pulling the car over to the side of the highway. "But if anything goes wrong…"

"You come back to the driver's seat, got it!" I grinned, hopping out of the car, prepared to switch places.

Mrs. Gaumont wore a frown as she settled into the backseat, where I had been. Observing me carefully, she watched as I adjusted the rearview mirror to keep an eye on her and the road behind, and positioned the map in a way that allowed me to glance at it without distraction. All the little rituals she followed before hitting the road—she noticed that I wasn't kidding when I mentioned I had been watching her.

Her smile this time was genuine, reaching her eyes. It might have hinted at the wish that someday, I could navigate life on my own. I'll never be sure, but I like to think that's what her smile meant.

"You can rest now, ma!" I called out, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror as I merged back onto the highway. "I've got this."

And deep down, she knew I would. My mom always knew that I was capable of taking care of myself without her constant guidance. Perhaps, that's why she let go so willingly.

So peacefully.

“You’re really good at this,” Luke finally commented after a while, snapping me out of the reverie.

Glancing at the backseats through the rearview mirror, I noticed Thalia trying to stay awake by gazing out the window, while Annabeth observed my actions with keen interest—from the way I alternated my gaze between the road and the map Luke held for me or shifted gears in the car.

Swallowing hard, I met Annabeth's eyes for the umpteenth time. Unlike before, I wasn't frightened; instead, I was taken aback by her genuine interest in my presence.

But who could blame her? According to Thalia's explanations, they had been traveling together for a considerable time.

“Let me see if I understand,” I furrowed my brows, recalling everything the trio had shared with me. “You’re also connected to these Greek gods…”

“Yes,” Thalia muttered from behind, narrowing her eyes at me, mirroring the curiosity of her smaller companion.

“You're the daughter of the thunder god, one of the Big Three, and because of that, you're pursued by a plethora of monsters,” I reiterated their explanation word for word.

The three of them nodded, awaiting my next words.

“You’re the daughter of Athena…” I turned my gaze to Annabeth. I chose not to delve into the more peculiar aspects of her origins—born from an idea of her mother as a gift; the more I tried to comprehend, the stranger it sounded.

“And you,” I looked at Luke, who raised a brow at me, “You're the son of Hermes, which makes all of you like me, as I'm also the daughter of a god. Everyone inside this car is a half-blood.”

My last statement carried a hint of uncertainty.

“Or demigods,” Luke shrugged, brushing a black curl out of his eyes. “More commonly, we're called demigods.”

“Got it…” I squinted my eyes, doing my best to concentrate on the road rather than the knot forming in my head from all this information.

Once again during that journey, I caught the gaze of the boy with black curls alternating between my face and the leather wristband I wore. I couldn't discern if he was equally intrigued by my magical weapon or if he still found amusement or confusion in the fact that it took me more than a minute to transform the sword back into the wristband.

Honestly, I hoped it was the former. Yet, given the number of times he repeated the same eye movements and subtly moved his lips, it seemed to be the latter.

“Where are you from?” Thalia inquired, her voice betraying a hint of weakness that she tried to conceal.

“Hmm,” I frowned, glancing at the map again, “I'm not sure, maybe Missouri?”

“You're American?” the girl with two electric blue eyes asked, her surprise leaving me bewildered.

“As far as I know… Yes? I’m American.” Seeking an explanation for the sudden question, I looked into the eyes of the others, but each of them appeared surprised by my responses.

Here we were, children of Greek gods, fleeing from monsters that sought to harm beings like us, yet what surprised them was that I identified as American?

Noticing my confusion, Luke snorted, shaking his head.

"You have a different accent, that's all," he answered simply.

But that only deepened the crease in my forehead.

“Well, most states have different accents,” I tried to explain. Since when did I have such a strong accent?

“Yes, but we had been to most of the states,” Thalia reasoned, raising her brows. “Yours doesn’t sound like any accent from here.”

I remained silent, trying to remember if my mother had already commented on anything. When I asked her about my father for the first time, she had told me that she had met him in Missouri, so I ended up deducing that both she and I were also born in Missouri.

But if she met my father here, then I was born here. Which meant that maybe my mother wasn't American. Maybe that explained why I had never met or seen my grandparents. They might not even be here in the United States.

It also explained the many times that my mother had to show her passport to a guard or police officer in addition to her ID. There were also some curious looks that I had recently noticed every time I opened my mouth.

Did my mother have an accent? Probably, because I grew up with her presence always present, hardly talking to other people, I never found it strange. For me, it was normal.

In fact, everything in my life before, at the time, seemed normal to me.

This was just another detail at the tip of the iceberg.

"I didn't ask badly, I was just curious." Thalia commented due my silence, "Sorry"

“No, it’s alright” I shook my head, “I just hadn’t-”

Noticed. But I was interrupted before I could say that.

Thalia squeaked in pain, her face retracting into a grimace and her hand instinctively went to her leg.

“Hey, Thalia,” Luke shouted, looking back from his seat, “Stay strong, we’re almost there. Take the next turn.”

I followed his order, watching Thalia quickly, she was way paler than before. I had no idea what I could say or do to help them, so I just continued to drive.

Viola’s pale skin tainted with her own blood jumped into my mind.

“She’s having a fever,” Annabeth bit her cheeks after resting her hand on the forehead of the daughter of Zeus, “I can try to make it better but it won't bring down the fever completely.”

Annabeth retrieved a cloth and a bottle of water from her bag, carefully dampening the cloth before placing it on Thalia's forehead. The gesture was a stark reminder of the mystical and perilous world they lived in, where even a fever could have otherworldly implications.

Just as dangerous as a monster.

"My backpack in the back has some water bottles. You can offer them to Thalia, Annabeth." I suggested, looking toward the two girls in the backseats. The daughter of Athena promptly followed my instructions, but Thalia declined, her voice weak, conveying, "If it's truly an infection, you need to stay hydrated."

Luke glanced at me, surprise evident that I was offering all my water to their friend. If he had suspicions, I was aware he wouldn't be unjustified. Until now, my association with them was mainly due to being a demigod and the sole driver among them, and I was fine with it.

To reinforce or challenge his surprise, the boy with dark curls turned to me. "You don't need to do that. After the next city, it'll be ten minutes until we reach my mother's house."

His mother's house—his designated resource and medical help hub. I mentally noted that, sensing I wasn't the only one doing so.

"But I'm going to," I asserted, meeting the boy's gaze with determination.

While I didn't know them well, and it might not be wise to offer all my water without knowledge of our future path after Thalia's recovery, I knew I couldn't bear witness to someone else dying on my watch.

I wouldn't let that happen.

"And also," I took a glance at the map for confirmation, "maybe it's best if we try to stop at a pharmacy. We can get some inexpensive medicine to take care of the infection and try to prevent it from worsening or recurring soon."

"That's not a good idea," Luke shook his head, reclaiming the map to identify which nearby pharmacies gave me that nonsense ‘enlightening’. "We don't know if it would actually help, and it could delay us getting to my mother in time to get Thalia's real help."

"The pharmacy closer to us is on the way to your mother's house," I pointed out. "Some medicine could at least buy your friend some time before we get there."

“But we don’t have any money,” Annabeth interjected, unsure for whom she should side. She knew Luke for a longer time, but she was also worried about Thalia and wanted to take any chance they had to help her.

And, well… She had a point. I didn't have enough money, especially for antibiotics or antiseptics.

My eyes shifted between Luke and Annabeth, but Luke simply shook his head in refusal. Resigned, I returned my gaze to the road, sighing. There wasn't much for us to do but hope—always hope.

Luke kept his eyes on me, puffing and huffing as he pondered something to himself. Finally, he puffed one last time and retrieved a leather wallet from his pocket.

"Actually," he admitted, holding up the wallet, "we have."

I furrowed my brows, contemplating the oddity of a teenage boy carrying a leather wallet. Such accessories were typically associated with adults.

“Weren’t you against the idea?” I chose to veer away from the wallet's origin, delving into another question from my growing list. This list, I suspected, was only at its inception.

Luke avoided eye contact, placing the map back in my view. "Don't make me change my mind. I'll only agree if I'm the one at the pharmacy. You two stay with Thalia and keep an eye on her."

The unexpected response left both Annabeth and me speechless.

Luke emphasized, "Don't let anything happen to her”.

"Of course," I assured him, stealing a glance in his direction.

"Always," The little girl agreed, fiercely.

Heading towards the pharmacy pinpointed on the map marked a brief pause in our hour-long journey. Already navigating through an extended route to avoid law enforcement and bustling streets, sacrificing a bit of time seemed a worthwhile trade-off to secure additional aid for Thalia to withstand the remainder of the trip.

The pharmacy sign was discreet, sunlight still reflecting off the windows that morning. I wondered about the time—was it around 9 or 10 in the morning?

Luke directed me to park on a nearby street, concealing the car within the shadow of an alley. As I parked, Luke swiftly exited the car, sporting a less-than-pleased expression with narrow eyes and pursed lips, reminiscent of someone who had tasted something sour.

I stifled a snort, speculating if it was his ego at play. He fit the mold of Olympic heroes perfectly.

"I'll be right back," he informed us, tucking the leather wallet back into his pocket before closing the car door.

My gaze trailed after him until he reached the pharmacy entrance. Sensing my watchful eyes, Luke turned towards the car, flashing a smile. Although it was hard to confirm from our distance, the sunlight glinting off his teeth and the sparkle in his dark eyes hinted at its being a showoff move.

Sighing in dissatisfaction, instead of vocalizing my frustration or offering an obscene gesture, I unfastened my seatbelt and turned towards the back seat.

Annabeth stared at me with wide eyes, assisting her friend, who was in a cold sweat, in drinking more water.

"How many days since she was attacked?" I inquired, recognizing that for an infection to manifest, the wound couldn't have been inflicted today.

"Two days ago," Annabeth replied, swallowing nervously. "We've been pursued by Furies; they're the ones responsible for her leg injury, but we managed to escape them."

Escape, not eliminate. There was a clear implication in those words.

"Okay, so it's definitely an infection," I affirmed, a realization I had harbored before, now underscored by the urgency imposed by our limited time. "Raise her leg; we need to help with her blood circulation."

Annabeth furrowed her brows but complied with my instructions, despite Thalia's groans. "How do you know that?"

"Ah, my mother," I admitted, mindful about the way words sounded out of my mouth, "She taught me a thing or two about what to do in emergencies."

Reaching for my bag between Annabeth's feet and my seat, I positioned it under Thalia's elevated leg. "Now you can let it down; my bag will assist with improving her circulation."

The little girl nodded, taking this moment to water Thalia’s cloth again before returning it to her forehead. All we had to do was wait for Luke to return from the pharmacy.

The tension in the car lingered, and I didn’t dare to turn my back to the two girls, my eyes fixed at Thalia’s state. She was still awake, just too tired to say anything. When she noticed my eyes upon her, she gave me a short smile and a quick thumbs up.

Noticing that, Annabeth smiled at me and Thalia, gripping her friend’s hand as she whispered something to her. Slowly, my eyes drifted back to the pharmacy.

Thinking back at our little discussion, I couldn’t help but think if Luke had resented me. We have been in this car for less than forty minutes together, the longest I have been knowing them so far, it wouldn’t be great if I had already managed to have someone I wished to befriend resent me instead.

I stopped my thoughts in their tracks, befriend? I flinched at myself once I realized my own words, how long since I had the opportunity to make friends?

I knew the answer to that question.

It had been a long time since I knew people around my age that I felt click so fast, at least, on my side. A longer time since I wished I could make friends that were like me.

However, that had been the first time I was doing everything on my own, even friends. I wouldn’t be surprised if I had already screwed this over.

I sighed, biting my lips. Perhaps, it was for the best; I needed to head to Long Island once I could be sure that Thalia was alright and not at risk of dying.

Annabeth's demeanor changed once she put her eyes on me, uncertainty running through her eyes, but she locked eyes with me and began to speak.

“Look,” she started, “Don’t mind Luke, he doesn’t hate you or anything, he just… It isn’t used to it.”

My eyes widened before turning to the small figure, my thoughts were as plain as the noise in my face?

"How long have you known Luke?" I asked, attempting to avoid any uneasy silence.

"I've known them for quite a while.” Annabeth sighed, “We've been through a lot together."

That, I could figure. I was on my second day as a demigod, everything continued to feel new and surreal. As if I was trapped in my childhood dreams.

But no, that was reality, I just needed to adjust. Even if it meant that my life would be complicated from now on.

I nodded to Annabeth’s words, noticing the guarded tone in her voice. “I don’t mean to get in your way, when Thalia gets better, we can say our goodbyes”

I knew too well how it felt to be tolerated, even if most of the time it was a feeling my mind created from no evidence. But, either way, I didn’t wish to go through it again.

“What? No,” This time, Thalia was the one to exclaim, her voice low and rough. Annabeth had to move the water bottle away from her face, “Who said we don’t want you on the team?”

“You’re also a demigod, we have to stick together,” Annabeth stated, her determination slipping at every word.

I shook my head, “We met less than an hour ago.”

“Everything becomes more dangerous when you’re a demigod alone in the world,” Annabeth told me, her voice turning to a careful tone, “Luke told me that once, we can’t leave any of us behind.”

I felt a mix of surprise and gratitude. It warmed a part of me that had been cold and isolated for a long time to know that someone wanted me to stay.

They were strangers at the time, but for a bunch of strangers, I had never felt so welcome.

"Thanks," I mumbled, my voice carrying a subtle sincerity that even surprised me.

“And if you’re worried about Luke,” Annabeth shrugged, “I’m sure he likes you, he is… Protective, it’s hard for him to let people in. It's a survival instinct, I suppose."

Survival instinct. The words hung in the air, resonating with the inherent dangers of our existence. Demigods, pursued by monsters, bound by the whims of gods—we lived in a constant state of vigilance.

Luke wouldn’t be wrong for holding on to it.

“I get it," I replied, empathizing with the complexities of their reality. "It must be tough."

Annabeth nodded, her expression softening. "We all have our struggles. Luke just… carries his differently."

As our conversation reached a natural pause, the car door creaked open, revealing Luke’s silhouette.

Luke returned from the pharmacy with a small bag in hand, his expression more neutral than before. As he slid back into the car, he handed the bag to Annabeth.

"Here, this should help for now," he said, his voice carrying a mix of concern and urgency. Annabeth took the bag, and I couldn't help but notice the worry etched on her face.

"What did you get?" I asked, glancing at the bag.

"Antibiotics and some bandages," Luke replied, his gaze shifting between Annabeth and me. "It's not much, but it's all we could manage for now. Thalia needs proper medical attention, and we're not far from my mother's place. We'll get her the help she needs there."

As Annabeth carefully assessed the medications, she turned to us, "Can you give me a couple of minutes before going back on the road? I need to manage it without worrying about speed bumps."

There was a collective understanding of the gravity of the situation. Thalia's condition required more than a quick pharmacy stop, but the interim measures were necessary. Luke and I exchanged glances, both realizing the priority at hand.

"Take your time," Luke reassured Annabeth. The car fell into a temporary stillness as we awaited the next steps.

Then, with a subtle shift, Luke turned his attention back to me. His eyes held a different intensity, as if he had something important to convey.

“Everything alright?” he asked, taking the leather wallet from his pocket and storing it in the glove compartment of the car.

“Yes,” I answered, “nobody bothered us while you were out and Thalia didn’t get worse.”

“Good, good,” Luke darted his eyes to the outside before looking at me again, “How did you know about the infection or the antibiotics?”

He might as well have noticed how Thalia’s leg was resting above my bag, but he didn’t address that point.

I gulped, scratching the nape of my neck, “My mother taught me a lot of things, how to treat injuries, name of medicines, how to get money… I think she knew that I would have to survive by myself one day”

That twinkle was back to Luke’s dark eyes, his lips twisted in a way as if repressing something.

“You can ask, you know,” I tried to encourage him, “A lot of strangers and the police had already asked me before, I’m used to”

“What happened to her?” finally, Luke asked, the known curiosity waltzing in his eyes.

“A cyclops found us,” I worried my bottom lip, forcing a smile on my face as I explained, “We were shopping for resources until I lost her from sight and heard her voice from afar, I could swear it was her…”

I didn’t need to continue, Luke understood where that story ended. Perhaps, being a demigod for a longer time than me, made him understand exactly how things would run in our lives.

“You must miss her,” that wasn’t a question.

In fact, the boy's tone of voice made me believe he understood the feeling very well.

“I do,” I agreed, rubbing my eyes before tears could show up again, “A lot.”

Luke fidgeted with his fingers, nodding again, but it felt more like a gesture to himself than to me.

"I'm sorry about earlier,” he managed to spill the words out, the thing he really wanted to say since he had sat down, “I just… Your idea helped a lot, I knew your idea would actually work.”

I raised my brow at that. I was still shocked by the fact he had apologized in the first place.

“It's just…” he sighed, shaking his head, “I don't know how to explain it. I'm usually the one who gives the ideas, and in less than half an hour, this awesome person came up with a plan to help my friend. It is complicated."

The sincerity in his words caught me off guard, definitely. I hadn't expected my suggestion would have that impact on him. I almost felt bad for doing so.

A hint of vulnerability surfaced beneath the layers of his guarded demeanor.

"Wait…” I stopped for a second, thinking back to his apology, “Do you think I am awesome?"

"Of course I do," Luke furrowed his brow, “What person who has just learned that he is a demigod goes face to face with a monster without knowing how to use a sword?”

Someone who isn’t afraid of death, but mad at it—I guessed.

“A pretty stupid one,” I said instead.

He simply shook his head, almost laughing at my answer, “I think a brave one would, and you did.”

I pressed my lips into a thin line, uncertain about what to say to that. Rarely, I was shy, and at the time I was stubborn enough to admit to myself that I was, in fact, shy.

“Ahm, you’re brave too,” I stared back at him, “You know, hitting monsters with that golf club.”

“I try my best,” he shrugged, darting his eyes to the golf club that rested next to his feet, “I kinda lost my sword, so now all I have is that thing.”

"You still do fine, hero," I smiled, fastening my seatbelt.

Caught off guard, Luke mirrored my movements. "Do you think so?"

"Of course I do," I echoed his earlier sentiment, and a genuine smile tugged at his lips.

As Annabeth seamlessly reentered the road after completing her task, a warmth settled within me. The connection forged in adversity lingered, leaving a scar on my heart—a good kind of scar.

The road stretched ahead, and in the comforting hum of the car, Luke's voice cut through the air, altering the course of our shared journey.

"You're part of this team now," Luke stated, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "We stick together, demigods looking out for each other.”

Surprise registered on my face, and I searched his eyes for any hint of insincerity. Instead, I found a genuine invitation—an offer of companionship in a world that often felt isolating.

“What do you say?" he asked a final question.

The weight of the decision hung in the air, and for the first time in a long while, the prospect of not facing the world alone felt like a genuine possibility.

Taglist: @2hiigh2cry

(if you wish to be add to the taglist, let me know in the comments!)

#percy jackson fanfiction #pjo fanfic #pjo tv show #pjo series #dionysus pjo #chiron #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #clarisse la rue #thalia grace #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #the ballad of moths #theballadofmoths #female original character

53 notes · View notes

midnight-moth · 5 months

Text

Ok I fell asleep for like an hour and woke up with massive Midwest emo ghouls au brainworm. Need to expel before sleep. There probably so many typos.

Mist - owner of local record shop. Makes all of the ladies who walk in the door feel like queens and makes condescending music bros shrivel.

Aurora - works at small cafe across the street. Amazing work ethic, short temper. Trying to find her place in the world as well as within a band that contains several very large personalities.

Mist comes in every day, wallet chain and massive key ring jangling in harmony with the brass bell hanging over the door. Orders a pour over every time, not because it tastes better. They really can’t tell the difference.

But because it takes longer. So they can admire Aurora’s deft hands stacking paper cups, refilling the sugar dispenser, smacking the side of the bean grinder to dislodge whatever’s stuck in there.

Aurora gives her a large. But she only charges her for a small. Slips her a cookie or a muffin cause it’s a funny shape, no one will buy it, it’s a day old (even though it tastes pretty damn fresh to Mist.)

Eventually she stops making excuses when she slides the brown paper bag across the counter, cause she’s too busy burying her blush when Mist reaches for it and grazes the top of her hand with their calloused finger tops, conditioned by steel core and round wire.

Aurora finds herself wanting to take a walk outside on her break. No longer content to put her headphones on and take a nap on top of a few sacks of coffee beans. Because Zeph frowns on that just a little.

She finds herself strolling past the window of the record shop, watching Mist prop up new releases against the window. At first they wave, but then y hey beckon.

The crisp chill in the air is a plausible excuse as to why the apples of Auroras cheeks are still so persistently red.

Mist asks if Aurora has a record player. And she does of course. “Have you listened to this?” Mist asks, plucking a record from beneath the counter.

Aurora hesitated, and admits, “No, I haven’t.” Aurora admonishes the fact that she hasn’t been in this world for very long at all and she’s a little bit intimidated by the seemingly vast and endless array for artists and genres.

“Take it for a spin. Let me know what you think.” Mist pushes the record across the gouged counter where various employees in the past 3 decades have carved their initials and perhaps some unsavory phrases.

“Oh, well, I don’t - we’ll - this is embarrassing. But I’m on sort of a tight budget.” The admission forms a hairline crack in her heart, and she isn’t sure why. Maybe Aurora simply does not want to refuse anything Mist has to offer.

“Don’t worry about that, you can bring it back later.” Sensing the hesitation in Aurora as her hand hovers over the record, they push it into her hand with a wink.

It’s so warm in there, Aurora can’t blame the chill and so she buried her face in her scarf and says “thanks, I’ve gotta get back. But, thank you. I’m so - I’ll - excited to listen.” She cringes inwardly and her feet stumble although not as much as her words as she heads for the exit.

She finished the rest of her shift, looking at her backpack with x-ray vision, as if she can see the record inside with Mist’s fingerprints all over it along with whatever she felt when she listened to it.

She kneels on the floor as in front of her stereo as soon as she gets home. Shoes and coat, scarf, lunch bag, all abandoned behind her like a trail of breadcrumbs.

GLORIA, G-L-O-R-I-A.

Jesus died for somebody's sins but not mine

Meltin' in a pot of thieves

Wild card up my sleeve

Thick heart of stone

My sins my own

They belong to me, me

People say "beware!"

But I don't care

The words are just

Rules and regulations to me, me

She’s vaguely aware of the dull throb in her knees and despite how loud she has the music cranked she’s kneeling on the floor practically pressing her ear to the speaker.

Her voice is loud and infectious, the words are irreverent and rebellious. She’s already hooked. And she flips the vinyl over 4 times before the gnawing in her stomach forces her to trudge to the kitchen and make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Normally a creature of habit, and a neat one at that, the plate doesn’t make it to the sink and the knife sticks to the counter, laden with jam, and there are crumbs on the floor. She doesn’t care.

She tries to go bed early because she has the opening shift. But that contralto voice is ringing in her mind and her feet are dancing under the covers.

She crawls to work and his through the motions, but she finds she’s less tired than expected. Still high on the energy of what she considers truly powerful. It’s like a talisman, no one can fuck with her today. She can’t help but occasionally run her fingers over the record, safely stowed under the counter to return to its owner.

When Mist arrives, they grins like a shark once they hears what’s playing over the shop’s speakers.

Counting the time, then you came to my room

And you whispered to me and we took the big plunge

And oh you were so good, oh, you were so fine

And I gotta tell the world that I make her mine, make her mine

Make her mine, make her mine, make her mine, make her mine

G-l-o-are-i-a, Gloria, G-l-o-are-i-a, Gloria, G-l-o-are-i-a, Gloria

G-l-o-are-i-a, Gloria

Aurora can’t even be bothered to feel shame as she shouts the newly memorized lyrics at the top of her lungs while preparing Mist’s pour over.

“So I guess you liked it?”

“You could say that.” Aurora is surprised that she can manage to say something remotely intelligible. She pulls the record out from under the register to slide back over the counter.

“No, keep it for now. But come by later. I think I have something else you’d like.”

Aurora is inclined to believe them. She takes the record back and in exchange slides over a brown craft paper bag. It feels heavier than usual.

When Mist dumps their belongings on the counter and flicks on the lights, they open it and sees it contains two cookies. And they are not deformed in the slightest.

Aurora comes in on her lunch, on a breeze that smells like roasted coffee and sandalwood. And she returns, with another record under her arm.

Zeph cannot find it within himself to chide her for being late. Nor will he for the days and weeks to come. When her 30 minute lunch break turns into 40 minutes. 45 minutes. 55 minutes.

Because an education in feminist proto-punk cannot be rushed. Nor can her deep dive into the riot grrl movement. Nor can love, Zeph knows that better than anyone.

#please tell me you see my vision #there is so so so so much more I have to say #aurora has to be well versed in all of the feminist music movements #that is why she takes no shit on stage #that is why she takes up space and demands attention #because she is talented and because she fucking can #did I mention I love her #I have been rolling around many ideas about her in her head #I myself do not possess very much femininity and it made me scared to write female characters #but I can see myself here #aurora ghoulette #mist ghoulette #midwest emo ghouls au #midnight moth writes

64 notes · View notes