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opheliaoblonskya · 4 years

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hello hello hello everyone! i’m coco, this is my baby ophelia, and we’re both extremely happy to be part of the group!!! this is ophelia’s official intro post so feel free to check under the cut for more info on them! @westmerestarters

MAJOR TW FOR DEPRESSION AND SUICIDE

agender, goes by they/them pronouns, first discovered non binary identities a few years ago and went from “huh, that’s neat” to “it me” within a few months lmao

their father was originally from the soviet union, grew up poor, immigrated to the states, and made it big as a writer. poetry, essays, plays, short stories, and even full on novels, anton oblonsky was a literary darling, and married cleo harris, a celebrity stylist, rather young. after barely two years of marriage, ophelia was born. they were to be anton’s only child.

while both of ophelia’s parents doted on them, they were the apple of their father’s eye in particular. he spoiled ophelia rotten, showering them with things he could’ve never dreamed of having as a child, but now with his lucrative writing career at his side, he was able to fully provide for his family, so much so that cleo was able to quit her job.

naturally, ophelia adored their father for how much he spoiled and openly adored them, and never feared hearing the word ‘no’ from anton. cleo often had to step in to be the disciplinarian in the family, which created some tension between her and her overly indulged child, but for the most part, the oblonsky family home was a happy one.

this would fall apart when ophelia was only five.

understandably, cleo was growing tired of having to be the ‘bad guy parent’, and had grown to resent how easy going and frivolous anton was. this of course caused arguments, and whenever ophelia stepped in and it was clear that they had heard it, anton would try to remedy the situation by showering them with more gifts, which in turn lead to more arguments. it was like a cycle, and cleo was determined to put an end to it. she filed for divorce.

during the proceedings, the two agreed on shared custody of ophelia. they would spend one week with anton, and the other with cleo. of course, ophelia much preferred being with their father, who’s spoiling had gone into maximum overdrive as a way to make up for the divorce. cleo was nowhere near as indulgent, and the young ophelia grew to resent their mother, blaming her for the falling apart of the family and their father’s misery.

just months after ophelia’s sixth birthday, which had of course been a truly lavish affair, the divorce was finalized. by then ophelia was getting therapy, to help cope with the change, and despite the therapist’s best efforts, ophelia still laid the blame squarely at their mother’s feet. but the worst was still yet to come.

when ophelia was seven, during the week they were with anton, he woke them up, told them they had the day off school because he had called in, and that they were going to do whatever ophelia wanted. of course, they were utterly ecstatic, and the day was spent devouring ice cream and candy of all kinds, watching cartoons, and playing games. it truly was the best day of ophelia’s life.

but it would quickly become the worst.

anton told ophelia to play outside for a bit, while he cleaned up. still bouncing off the walls from the massive amount of sugar consumption, ophelia happily ran around in the yard, playing on the brand new play set that anton had bought just for that day. they were so preoccupied, that they almost didn’t hear the loud bang that came from inside.

they tried to get inside, but all of the doors were locked, and no matter how loudly they yelled, they were getting no response from anton. confused, and getting a little scared, ophelia went to the neighbor’s, and asked them for help. the neighbor’s called, but when they got response they called the police instead.

the rest of the day is a blur, perhaps an attempt of ophelia’s mind to shield them from it all. but one thing they remember clear as day is the body of their father, lying in a pool of his own blood, in the middle of the living room. they had managed to sneak past the police, wanting to see what was happening. and of course, they got their wish.

the death was ruled a suicide, thanks to the presence of a long letter that anton had left behind in his study. cleo was contacted immediately and rushed to her child’s side, weeping profusely. the last year of her marriage to anton had been tense, but she never doubted for a second that he was a good man who loved her and ophelia. and now he was gone.

ophelia was different after that. now in their mother’s care, they had become quiet, withdrawn, and despite how tense and strained their relationship with their mother had been before, they were now terrified of being separated from cleo. they got another therapist, one that specialized in helping grieving children, but it was very slow going. at the reading of the will, it had been revealed that anton had left everything, his wealth, his properties, even the rights to his numerous literary works, which at the time of his death was just shy of a hundred, to ophelia. it turned out that he had made the change the day before his death, and that half of his fortune, which included ongoing royalties, would be used for ophelia’s education and other parts of their care, a type of posthumous child support, while the rest would be put in a trust fund.

of the things that had been left to ophelia, what caught their attention the most, was their father’s journals. he would spend hours scribbling away in them, and no one, not even his precious ophelia, had been permitted to read them. they desperately wanted to do so now, but cleo got to them first, and had them placed in a safety deposit box, away from ophelia. this resulted in a screaming match, a tearful ophelia demanding to have what remained of their father’s essence, and cleo insisting that they were too young to see what was in those books, and that when they were older they could read them, but not now.

as time wore on, ophelia remained ever devoted to their father and his memory, lashing out at anyone who would dare besmirch his name and/or work. when cleo remarried, to anton’s lawyer no less, ophelia reacted very negatively, threatening to sabotage the wedding if they were made to go. they were made to go, but were under heavy surveillance by the bridesmaids (ophelia had been made the maid of honor, which made their stomach roil), and aside from having a generally negative attitude, did no harm to the event.

when ophelia’s first half sibling was born, they were determined to remain indifferent, if not totally icy and aloof, towards the child. it wasnt until after they had laid eyes on the newborn, that they felt their heart soften. in a hospital bathroom, ophelia cried for the first time since their father’s funeral. they were 12 years old.

with extensive therapy and family counselling, ophelia found themself able to let go of their previous animosity towards their mother. they began to see and understand why cleo was so frustrated with anton, and wrote an immense letter of apology to their mother. they were also fiercely protective of their half siblings, and thoroughly adored them.

but of course, there was still a hole that had been left behind by anton’s death. and part of the way they chose to cope was by consuming all of their father’s work. they would pour over his writing, studying it all endlessly. if there was an english assignment of some sort, then you can be sure that ophelia would write about something their father wrote. it wasn’t long before they too started to dream of becoming a writer.

after ophelia graduated, they were finally permitted to read the journals that their father wrote in and kept. after talking extensively with ophelia’s therapists, cleo finally opened that old safety deposit box, and gave ophelia everything they had dreamed of. they devoted every waking moment to reading those journals, desperate to further understand their father. and one of the first steps they took was going to russia.

they had of course heard many stories from their father about russia, and most of anton’s work was either set in russia, featured russian characters, or at least had russia in the background in some way. but of course the russia he had been most familiar with was the one of the soviet era, and even after a number of trips back, the shadow of the soviet union still clung to him and his work, and ophelia was determined to see modern day russia for themself.

they followed their father’s steps, hunting down every place mentioned or alluded to in his writings, trying to understand and feel what their father understood and felt about the place. it also inspired them to start journaling, chronicling their time in russia and the steps they were taking to understand the man their father was.

while in russia, they came up to the part in the journals where anton started to talk about his divorce and depression. he waxed lyrical about the intense, deep, gut wrenching misery that plagued him, and how the only way he could keep it at bay was by caring for ophelia. but as they started to grow up, he started to panic and worry more and more. his own father took his life when he was very young, and his mother never remarried. how was he supposed to know how to be a father from that point on? he had tried to give ophelia everything she could ever want, materially and emotionally, but there was still a part of him that felt that it would never be enough, because he had never seen what he was supposed to do next. the anxiety strangled him to the point where sometimes he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

his last entry was on the day before he died. “if nothing else, ophelia will know how much i love her.”

ophelia spent a week indoors, grieving their father all over again, and finally seeing why their mother had been so adamant in keeping these journals away from them. no child would be equipped to deal with everything that had been written in those notebooks, least of all one that had been as vulnerable as ophelia had been at the time.

when they returned home, they hugged their mother and cried.

another thing they did after they returned was go to college. despite his literary success, ophelia’s father never went to college, with his formal education stopping when he was 14 so that he could work and support his ailing mother. he would go on to teach himself, but the world of academia always gripped his imagination, and ophelia was determined to do what their father couldnt.

double majoring in english lit and russian lit, minoring in journalism, and applying with their mother’s new married name to avoid any awkwardness, ophelia dedicated themself to studying and writing, wanting to create the ‘perfect debut novel’. during this time they remained secretive about their father’s identity, particularly after they started to study his work in class. they would go on to get a masters in all of their subjects, and get a job at the new york times.

while in new york, ophelia was contacted by an established, and well-respected broadway producer and director, who wanted to adapt one of their father’s plays for broadway, but needed ophelia’s permission to do so. intrigued, ophelia agreed, provided that they be involved every step of the way. they were going to make sure that their father’s work was going to be well represented.

after countless long days going from the office to broadway then home, ophelia saw their father’s first ever play, which also happened to be the one that was the least adapted and staged for whatever reason, on broadway. it was set in a town called westmere, a place that ophelia’s father had mentioned in his journals, but that they had never gotten around to visiting. but after opening night, they knew that would change. once the play had it’s full run, ophelia resigned from their job, packed up, and went to westmere, to see what it was about the town that had so entranced their father.

and there you have it! didnt expect to write that much but oh well dfjignfdifjnfdij feel free to dm if you want to plot something!!!

#westmereintro

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