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Smile
Fandom: Kingdom
Prompts: 31_days: laugh out loud & fanfic100: Smile (writer's choice)
Mara muttered as her eyes struggled to open. She blinked, taking in the usual haze that met her poor eyesight, and flung her warmed arm from the nest of bedding towards the side table. But hand met only air, grasping for wood that was curiously missing. She lowered the arm over the side, and this time her hand, despite the height of her loft bed, skidded across the dusty wood of the attic’s floor.
Mara blinked again. Floor?
She slowly rose, her brain shuddering at the angle change, free hand clutching her temple as details of the night before assaulted her. Something cold was pressed against her bare foot, and her toes explored the chilled surface of their own volition. It was a bottle with a peeling label, her mind supplied, well remembering the drinking.
And everything else.
With a groan, she focused her eyes, taking in the destruction of her room. Clothes, once neatly arranged in her closet, were flung everywhere, trampled with stains from many curious feet; thankfully, no tell-tale green blurs spoke of slime, which was impossible to remove from fabric. Books, everywhere but the bookcase. She frowned, knowing the hiding place of her dream journal had been discovered.
Well, no sense daddling. Mara sighed, rubbing her temple as she closed her mind to the mess. She couldn't deal with anything until she got her coffee. Better go see if anyone has burned down the Fortress yet.
Her feet kicked the bottle from the mattress, pulled to the center of the attic away from the ruins of her bed. It rolled onto her imitation persian rug, resting beside the dull blade of the skewer. Gingerly she stood, feet scrunching into the unyielding wood, and scratched at her side while she tried to navigate a path through the chaos.
She finally gave up, and just trudged over it, shrugging her frame into her terry robe. Her hand fell on the door, and she paused for a lengthy moment before turning back towards the clutter. Her cheeks blistered for a half a second, falling on one a very blue bra right in plain view, beside her glasses. She hastily pulled both free and began to put the restrictions on, her lips curled in distaste.
She wasn’t going to face a herd of men without a bra on. And bras in the morning made Mara cranky.
* * *
Damn. Mara cursed, body crushed low, wincing as she pulled her stubbed toe from the stairs. She chanced a look behind her, but no one raced from the doors on this level. So people were either sleeping or downstairs already.
She descended, only hearing the soft lull of conversation on the lowest steps. Jane was cooking waffles of all things— when had they gotten a waffle maker? Loni was badgering the poor girl, talking of makeovers and a modern wardrobe and jagged seams, so she trudged mindlessly to the coffee pot and poured out a little dose of sanity. The pot was half empty— not too many people were up, then.
The two girls giggled when they finally looked at Mara, but she merely nodded and made a hasty retreat. She wasn’t ready to face either of them at the moment— or how changed they were. Especially if they were giggling the morning after such a harrowing day. How were they even human?
Her feet took her to the den, finding relief from the coffee and dimness of the room. Deon was fast asleep on the comfy couch, an arm clutching her favorite couch pillow.
She glared at his oblivious form before turning to her cousin, whose knees were pressed against Reed’s, the two bent towards one another in low conversation.
Mara cleared her throat loudly; Deon’s form shifted slightly, and the two lovebirds pushed away from one another quickly— Reed was halfway across the couch before he looked upon Mara, horror growing on the boy’s face.
Whatever HIS problem was.
Lynn, however, was slower to turn around. Her eyes shifted slowly up Mara before they rested not on her eyes, but on her lips. Emotions flickered on her cousin’s face, too quickly for Mara to catch, but the last one burst from her cousin’s lips in peals of laughter.
“What?” Mara croaked, but her lips were sealed and refused to move, leaving her baleful demand a mere murmer. Confusion spread, as did the demand for caffeinated life, and a hand rose to her lips.
There was something pressed against them, cold against her skin; it was thin but layered, with what seemed like plastic smothering tiny raised threads..
“….” Mara twisted from the laughter and horror and oblivious sleeping and rushed to the vanity mirror in the hallway.
And blinked, her glasses fogging with steam as they stared upon her face. Her decidedly interfered with face.
A small piece of ductape was seal her lips— and scribbled on it was a very red smily face.
Gingerly, she returned to the den, one hand pressed against her hips, and with a slow, agonizing movement tore the humiliation from her face. Her eyes narrowed, taking in Lynn’s now hysterical laughter and Reed’s tentative snicker.
“Guess someone finally got you to smile!” Lynn croaked out before her laughter claimed her sanity again.
Mara rolled her eyes and took her first sip of coffee before she moved towards the comfy couch, intending to push Deon off of it. But inside? She was laughing louder than any of them.
Pic <3.
Fandom: Kingdom
Prompts: 31_days: laugh out loud & fanfic100: Smile (writer's choice)
Mara muttered as her eyes struggled to open. She blinked, taking in the usual haze that met her poor eyesight, and flung her warmed arm from the nest of bedding towards the side table. But hand met only air, grasping for wood that was curiously missing. She lowered the arm over the side, and this time her hand, despite the height of her loft bed, skidded across the dusty wood of the attic’s floor.
Mara blinked again. Floor?
She slowly rose, her brain shuddering at the angle change, free hand clutching her temple as details of the night before assaulted her. Something cold was pressed against her bare foot, and her toes explored the chilled surface of their own volition. It was a bottle with a peeling label, her mind supplied, well remembering the drinking.
And everything else.
With a groan, she focused her eyes, taking in the destruction of her room. Clothes, once neatly arranged in her closet, were flung everywhere, trampled with stains from many curious feet; thankfully, no tell-tale green blurs spoke of slime, which was impossible to remove from fabric. Books, everywhere but the bookcase. She frowned, knowing the hiding place of her dream journal had been discovered.
Well, no sense daddling. Mara sighed, rubbing her temple as she closed her mind to the mess. She couldn't deal with anything until she got her coffee. Better go see if anyone has burned down the Fortress yet.
Her feet kicked the bottle from the mattress, pulled to the center of the attic away from the ruins of her bed. It rolled onto her imitation persian rug, resting beside the dull blade of the skewer. Gingerly she stood, feet scrunching into the unyielding wood, and scratched at her side while she tried to navigate a path through the chaos.
She finally gave up, and just trudged over it, shrugging her frame into her terry robe. Her hand fell on the door, and she paused for a lengthy moment before turning back towards the clutter. Her cheeks blistered for a half a second, falling on one a very blue bra right in plain view, beside her glasses. She hastily pulled both free and began to put the restrictions on, her lips curled in distaste.
She wasn’t going to face a herd of men without a bra on. And bras in the morning made Mara cranky.
* * *
Damn. Mara cursed, body crushed low, wincing as she pulled her stubbed toe from the stairs. She chanced a look behind her, but no one raced from the doors on this level. So people were either sleeping or downstairs already.
She descended, only hearing the soft lull of conversation on the lowest steps. Jane was cooking waffles of all things— when had they gotten a waffle maker? Loni was badgering the poor girl, talking of makeovers and a modern wardrobe and jagged seams, so she trudged mindlessly to the coffee pot and poured out a little dose of sanity. The pot was half empty— not too many people were up, then.
The two girls giggled when they finally looked at Mara, but she merely nodded and made a hasty retreat. She wasn’t ready to face either of them at the moment— or how changed they were. Especially if they were giggling the morning after such a harrowing day. How were they even human?
Her feet took her to the den, finding relief from the coffee and dimness of the room. Deon was fast asleep on the comfy couch, an arm clutching her favorite couch pillow.
She glared at his oblivious form before turning to her cousin, whose knees were pressed against Reed’s, the two bent towards one another in low conversation.
Mara cleared her throat loudly; Deon’s form shifted slightly, and the two lovebirds pushed away from one another quickly— Reed was halfway across the couch before he looked upon Mara, horror growing on the boy’s face.
Whatever HIS problem was.
Lynn, however, was slower to turn around. Her eyes shifted slowly up Mara before they rested not on her eyes, but on her lips. Emotions flickered on her cousin’s face, too quickly for Mara to catch, but the last one burst from her cousin’s lips in peals of laughter.
“What?” Mara croaked, but her lips were sealed and refused to move, leaving her baleful demand a mere murmer. Confusion spread, as did the demand for caffeinated life, and a hand rose to her lips.
There was something pressed against them, cold against her skin; it was thin but layered, with what seemed like plastic smothering tiny raised threads..
“….” Mara twisted from the laughter and horror and oblivious sleeping and rushed to the vanity mirror in the hallway.
And blinked, her glasses fogging with steam as they stared upon her face. Her decidedly interfered with face.
A small piece of ductape was seal her lips— and scribbled on it was a very red smily face.
Gingerly, she returned to the den, one hand pressed against her hips, and with a slow, agonizing movement tore the humiliation from her face. Her eyes narrowed, taking in Lynn’s now hysterical laughter and Reed’s tentative snicker.
“Guess someone finally got you to smile!” Lynn croaked out before her laughter claimed her sanity again.
Mara rolled her eyes and took her first sip of coffee before she moved towards the comfy couch, intending to push Deon off of it. But inside? She was laughing louder than any of them.
Pic <3.