#a fuckin tattler

[rpcburnbook]

people giving that One Site named air time on tattler is so fuckin dumb like just say you write there and want new people and move on....

~

[bellasredchevy]

the idea of a secret organization of insanely-beautiful vampire royalty who walk around in dramatic billowy robes and medieval gowns straight from the runway who live in a sprawling castle underneath the stunning mountaintop town of volterra nestled in the center of lush tuscany is theoretically like very sexy but unfortunately chris weitz felt it appropriate to cast the three greasiest looking people on the face of the planet as the volturi kings (save for demetri and heidi, the guard is no better) which is disappointing because they’re literally described as greek gods in the books like i’d love to call myself a volturi fucker i really would but these mf’s

just ain’t doin it for me i’m sorry

[zamoimagines]

Seeing Your Toxic Ex in Public Headcanons (Sarah Characters)

A/N: The writers block is real and it’s because I’m going through a lot. Let’s be real, I’m still mad about what I went through and I wanna know how these bitches would act. I’m sure ya’ll get where I’m coming from. So let’s jump into this one.

Billie Dean Howard

Billie is first and foremost a lady. If she has beef with someone, she makes sure that she outwits her competition. Not like your ex qualified as actual competition to her. When you two ran into your ex at a party, Billie snaked her arm around your waist and pulled you close almost to protect you. They’d try to introduce themselves with a handshake, but Billie would completely ignore the gesture. She’s something along the lines of “Oh, that’s you. Yes, I have plenty knowledge about you to have a structured opinion.” When your ex would ask to talk to you privately, Billie wouldn’t hesitate to speak on your behalf, “Actually, Y/N can’t speak with you. We really must get going so we can speak to people who are worth our time. Good day... Whatever your name is.” As you two walked off, you’d tell Billie how bad ass she was and she’d make sure to press a kiss to your forehead. “Just wanted them to know that you’ve upgraded. It’s as simple as that.”

Lana Winters

Lana can be polite when she needs to be. This wasn’t one of those instances. You and Lana often shared cute cafe dates where she’d bounce writing ideas to you, and you’d work on your own stuff. It was a surprise that your ex had walked in that day and stopped directly at your table. Lana could see how uncomfortable you were to know who it was. She stopped them mid sentence as they tried to speak and simply said, “If you don’t leave within the next five seconds, I will place a restraining order on you without hesitation. I suggest you leave us be.” They would try to protest and Lana would simply stand to look them dead in the eye, “I don’t think you want to deal with the hell that will rain down upon you if you keep trying to push your luck. Leave.” They’d comply, Lana would sit back down and would take your hands into her own and ask if you were okay. When you’d thank her for protecting you, she would reply with a wink “No one messes with my girl.” 

Cordelia Goode

Pissing Cordelia off was rare, but it was always on another level bc this bitch has literal magic to use against people. A simple date to the local greenhouse garden took an unexpected turn when you noticed your ex from across the way. You wouldn’t tell Cordelia why, but you just insisted that it was time to go. “What do you mean, honey? We just got here-” But then she’d look in the direction you had and would know immediately. She’d glance back to you with a wide smile. “Watch this.” she’d whisper to you before flicking her wrist in one sharp movement. A hose from beneath where your ex was standing erupted upward and completely soaked them. They quickly left angrily as the hose almost seemed to follow them out of the damn store and employees were trying to tackle it. The Supreme would smile when she’d see your smile and would shrug, “Problem solved. Now, help me pick out some flowers for the dining room.”

Bette and Dot Tattler 

Bette and Dot are complete opposites majority of the time. Dot was definitely much more confrontational than her sister. Though Bette became vicious when it came to your ex. You’d gone to their show to cheer them on and even went backstage to give them a bouquet of flowers when your ex showed up to tell the twins what a big fan they were of them. Bette would give them a wide smile and in a pretty southern drawl would reply, “Awe, that’s very sweet of ya since we’re most definitely not fans of you.” Your ex would be confused by those words as Dot’s lips pressed into a malicious grin. “My sister’s right. Besides, you can’t be a fan, I’ve never seen you at any other damn show. You’re here to prove a point but here’s the thing-”, Bette would finish her sister’s sentence, “We’re twice the lover you are and Y/N is much happier with us than she ever was with you!” They’d be a little flustered with such a callout, but Dot would fix it up right quick and say “Best be on your way now. And don’t come back.” 

Sally McKenna

THIS CRAZY BITCH does not hesitate. You two were just strolling the halls of the hotel when you saw your ex rolling in a luggage. Sally got a weird vibe from this one, and by looking at the expression on your face, she could tell something was wrong. You’d whisper to her that the person was your ex. She’d reply with, “You mean the one that hurt you?” You’d nod to confirm. That was a big mistake. One minute, her fingers were interlaced with yours, and then they were ripped away as she nearly ran at them. She’d start pushing them and would yell at the top of her lungs, “WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?” You’d try to stop her, but she’d keep going and would keep pushing them, “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY DAMN HOTEL BEFORE I SEW YOU IN TO A FUCKING MATTRESS YOU PIECE OF HOT FUCKING GARBAGE!” The interaction would be so intense that your ex would sprint out of the hotel and never come back. This bitch doesn’t play around.  

Audrey Tindall

Audrey could be a bitch when she wanted to be. She was a diva after all. You’d come to an award show to watch Audrey win another acting award in which you were incredibly proud of her. You just hadn’t been expecting for your ex to pop out of nowhere during the afterparty. Audrey would be the bitch that would call security the moment she saw them, and when they would try to insult her, she’d reply with, “How does it feel then? To know that you let go of such a wonderful woman who ended up with someone rich and famous rather than with a lowlife such as yourself? Must sting a little, hm?” Then security would drag your ex away. Audrey would give you a wide smile and hook her arm around your own. “I think a drink sounds nice, don’t you, darling? I’m thinking a fruity cocktail would lift our spirits.”

Ally Mayfair-Richards

You knew how busy Ally was between her campaign and trying to run the restaurant all on her own, so you decided to drop her off a coffee and a donut before you went to run errands. When you walked in, you weren’t expecting to see your ex sitting at a table near the front. You tried to avoid them and immediately went to Ally’s office to calm yourself. Someone told Ally that you were there so naturally she went to her office to find you. “Hey, beautiful. Couldn’t keep away from me, could you-” But she stopped as she saw you hyperventilating. Immediately, she asked you what was wrong and you explained. In a full rage, Ally left the office and went straight to the table your ex was at. “Excuse me, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Your ex would try to protest, but Ally would cut them off, “You know exactly why you’re not welcome here. Get the hell out of my restaurant.” Your ex would be escorted out by the wait staff as Ally made her way back to her office to wrap you in a big hug to let you know that everything was alright. 

Wilhemina Venable 

The person you’d definitely wouldn’t wanna piss off is fucking Venable. That should be a given. Despite her cold hearted tendencies, she was the most deadly when someone tried to hurt someone she loved. Leisurely strolls throughout the local art museum were a usual date for the two of you. Most of the time it was peaceful. This time happened to be different, for you quite literally bumped into your ex on accident. They immediately introduced themselves to Mina, though she wasn’t phased whatsoever. She knew exactly who they were. She’d push you to stand behind her as she towered over your ex. “How dare you hurt her in such a way. And now you introduce yourself to me acting as if I wouldn’t know the turmoil you have caused? If you don’t leave now, I will harm you in ways you could’ve never imagined and you will know what true pain feels like.” She was fuckin terrifying, your ex didn’t give a second thought to fleeing immediately. Mina would then hook arms with you in a protective manner and say, “Stay close to me, darling. I’ll keep you safe.” 

REQUEST MORE HERE!

[amwritesitall]

Sarah Paulson AHS Characters as Rex Orange County Songs

Masterlist

Here’s another shit post, but they’re hella fun to make. These explanations aren’t as in depth as the Hozier ones. For the Hozier post I was having some big thoughts at 3 am.

Billie Dean Howard

“Loving is Easy”

Loving is easy You had me fucked up It used to be so hard to see Yeah, loving is easy When everything's perfect Please don't change a single little thing for me

This song gives me big being in a relationship with Billie vibes. I don’t have much to base this off of, but just trust me.

“Paradise”

Don’t miss me when I’m dead Live life and don’t think twice Don’t miss me when I’m gone I’ll see you soon in paradise When I leave you Take my last few pennies And buy yourself something nice Because, before you know it We’ll be together again Forever in paradise

Billie is a psychic. She wants to love hard while she’s on this earth and isn’t too worried about what happens after. She likes living in the moment while she can and when time’s up, she believes she’ll see you in whatever comes next. 

Lana Winters

“Corduroy Dreams”

How could I ignore you? Trust me I adore you We’re swimming through our dreams Kiss me in the shower For a couple hours Though we’re only sixteen And sit down beside me Don’t call me daddy Cause that’s just fucking weird Promise that you'll stay here You and I can lay here Until the end of time

This has big vibes of what being in a relationship with Lana would be like. Don’t call Lana Banana “daddy,” but like stay and lay with her “until the end of time.”

“Always”

It took a while to see that I was in need Of help from somebody else but she keeps Reminding me that I'm not the only one

That there will always be a part of me that's holding on And still believes that everything is fine And that I'm living a normal life But until somebody sits me down And tells me that I'm different now I'll always be the way I always am

This gives me post Asylum vibes. Lana has become a famous reporter and sometimes she has to face the fact that after everything that happened has changed her. Everything she went through was shitty and I feel like she’s the type of person to avoid what happened, ignoring all she went through.

“It’s Not the Same Anymore”

My life was simple before I should be happy, of course But things just got much harder Now it's just hard to ignore It's not the same anymore It's not the same anymore It's not the same, but it's not a shame 'cause

I spend a long time putting up with people Putting on my best face It's only normal when you stop things in the wrong way It's only four o'clock and still, it's been a long day I just wanna hit the hay People knocking on me like every day I'm tired of taking stress

This follows a bit of the same reasoning as the song before this. This is more Lana coming to terms with everything she’s been through and what all is going on in her life now as a famous reporter. Her life is not the same as it was. It’s better, but things are still so different and she’s working like crazy.

Cordelia Goode

“Stressed Out”

They wanna take what's yours They wanna go for dinner on your name They wanna see me stressed out every day, I know it They wanna lie and still be friends But when you're at your worst, they're not there And you discovered that they don't care

This makes me think of all the stress that comes with being the Supreme. I feel like it’s sort of like winning the lottery is sometimes. On one hand she has all this power, but on the other that power causes a lot of people to try and use you to get to it. Cordelia has to be cautious because some people want to get close to her for the wrong reasons.

“Pluto Projector”

The great protector Is that what I'm supposed to be? What if all this counts for nothing Everything I thought I'd be? What if by the time I realize It's too far behind to see? Seventy-mil projector I can show you everything, yeah And we're on our way to glory Where the show won't ever end And the encore lasts forever And it's time we're due to spend

Cordelia handling all that comes with being the Supreme in the first half of the lyrics. Then her finding love, wanting it to last forever in the second half. There’s also extra angst in the since that one day there will be a new Supreme and she will have to leave her significant other behind to fulfill her final duties as Supreme.

“New House”

I can see us in a house next year (You'll be) making your mind up You can figure out what goes where (And stay) keeping it real with me all the time All the while, they can't touch me anyway So I'll be holding it down with you every day

I feel like this describes what a relationship with Cordelia would be like once she has finally found that person she can trust. She just wants to settle down and be with her love at the Academy with all her girls.

Bette and Dot Tattler

“Television / So Far So Good”

Hey, I’m not afraid, I can be myself and I Hope you can be yourself as well, ‘cause I can make you feel alright And there was so much happiness that we were still yet to find I said that you can call me Alex, baby, welcome to my life

The beginning of the song gave me big vibes of the twins finding someone that loves and accepts them. Later in the song I also get Billie Dean vibes BUT the beginning makes me think of Bette and Dot.

Sally McKenna

“10/10″

I had to think about my oldest friends Now, I no longer hang with them And I can't wait to be home again I had a year that nearly sent me off the edge I feel like a five, I can't pretend But if I get my shit together this year Maybe I'll be a ten

I did it again, I did it again No control over my emotions One year on and I still can't focus

This song is kind of saying I’ve had a hard time, but I’m not having a hard time right now and I feel like this fits Sally. Sally is out here trying to fix herself damn it. Social media is making her try and find better things in life besides drugs. I could be crazy, but I don’t know. This is just my thinking.

“4 Seasons”

Who am I to judge The people who don't care for me When I don't care about them either? And who am I to judge The friends that I once thought I knew? They're all off doing what they wanna do I'm falling to pieces When I'm on my own Even though I'm a walking emotion And I can't go a day without you I saw myself as less and you so high above me But I hope that you can learn to love me

Angsty Sally just wants love, but she also tends to push people away at times. I don’t know. These lyrics scream Sally to me.

Audrey Tindall

“Face to Face” 

She calmed me down that night I freaked out We stayed up, I threw up in that house She woke up face-to-face from the bed Two in the en-suite, one in the early She was like eight hours ahead Two different countries, slept in a one-piece Baby boy in full effect And you couldn't see me, call back, repeat That's all thanks to poor connection Fun for me, no Most time, it's a pain in the neck I said it's not that fun, see Everything makes me wanna quit while I'm ahead

The struggles of being in a long distance relationship! This is something I’m sure Audrey has to deal with a lot due to her job. Her being off somewhere filming, having to leave her loved one behind.

“Laser Lights”

I might eat breakfast here before I move on Laser lights all around me when I get the chance To get my groove on Dancing by myself, I still take my shoes off And ignore it 'til I feel alright And I might get restless if I stay for too long I would up and leave this fuckin' bullshit If it meant that I could see her Dancing to the shit that sounds nothing like me, huh? Dancing to the shit I like

For some reason this gives me Audrey vibes? The line about dancing by yourself makes me think of her. This is more of a vibe reasoning.

Ally Mayfair-Richards

“Uno”

Some people concentrate on style too much But I think I just force myself to smile too much And that should soon end for the best I wanna live my life with no stress Love life and feel blessed

My jaw hurts a lot because I grind it with stress I was an idiot recently and lost a lot of my friends Nothing brings me joy and nothing makes me smile

This makes me think of prime stressed Ally in the middle of season seven, but also prime stressed political leader Ally. When she gets carried away with how stressful her job is and she just wants to be able to enjoy time with son.

“It Gets Better”

Looking back, I guess that ignorance was a breeze I thought I knew everything but I was naive

Look at us now, I'm proud of you Oh-oh, she's on her way towards me That means it all gets better soon I hope my world feels better soon You let me do what I needed to So this one's for you 'Cause even when my worst traits get in the way You're here to help me feel safe I don't need to be with anyone else I don't need to explain No, I don't need to explain

Post Cult Ally? I feel like this low key could describe parts of her journey. Eventually her finding some peace with a new person she loves and loves her.

“Green Eyes, Pt. II”

See money is the only motive But money is a sin and I loath it The reason we're waiting for something The only reason why people are hungry, child People are hungry now Money, the reason that we can't make money The reason why a prick is running the country No matter when you hear this note There's always gonna be a prick running this country But you better get your votes in

Ally is a political gal. She’s critical of the government and how things are being run and this song fits that. It’s a bit cliche to give this one to Ally, but it fits. The second half also really fits the tone of season seven.

Wilhemina Venable

“Sunflower”

I want to know Where I can go When you're not around And I'm feeling down So won't you stay for a moment So I can say I, I need you so

Mina’s insecurities with looovvee. That’s it. That’s the reasoning.

“Every Way”

I care about you, in every way I can You know I'm troubled, but I know you can understand I'm sorry for the strain No one prepares you for the way in which things change But you've been amazing, saw me through my darkest stage And you always forgave me And now you love me just the same

Pure wholesome Mina about the person she loves! I will fight anyone who wants to debate this. This is her once she’s vulnerable and open with the one she loves. She’s a lot sometimes, but damn does she love them.

“Know Love”

I just wanna know love Mother won't you tell me When will I know love? Baby please forgive me Not able to show love There ain't no love for me I just wanna know love

Mina has never really experience that much love in her life. Even her childhood wasn’t filled with love, so when she finally finds someone, it’s hard for adapt to what love is. She wants to love and be loved, but it takes time for her to figure out what exactly that looks and feels like.

-

You might like:  Sarah Paulson AHS Characters as Khalid Songs or  Sarah Paulson AHS Characters as Hozier Songs

[lizzienaut]

FUCKIN' LEE- You wanna be wrecked sO badly right now, I can feel it. you totally wanna be wrecked within and inch of your ticklish little life. UwU yours truly. the tattler

FUCKIN-

PARDON

WHO TOLD YOU THAT SIR BECAUSE WHOEVER DID IS A GOD DAMN LIAR AND A CH  E  A T

i am a big spooky LER and notHIN WILL CHANGE THAT >:((

[payaso-gomi]

FINALLY!! This was a /relatively/ small piece compared to my other WIPs, so let’s dive in shall we?

more under the cut because I WILL be going overboard with descriptions and be talking about spoilery stuff for DBS and the Universe Survival saga

I tried to design them around the corresponding universe as best as I could, so if you see a any similarities to existing characters you know why. I also thought about calling their position ‘chinsei’?? Which is just sedate in Japanese. I’ll probably keep it unless I can think of something else

And please keep in mind this is just a starter and is subject for changes

Cheechai (Universe 1)

-Cheechai’s relatively new to the job

-she’s small but very fast, enough to almost catch up to Iwan

-she doesn’t particularly have a lot to do in her position, given that Iwan and Anato are both pretty good at their jobs. But her presence is mandatory at this point so-

-Iwan does treat her like a student, even though hr job is to literally tranquilize him

-she’s quiet and kind of shy, and very respectful to others. Though she does have a certain amount of hate against Universe 7, more specifically Goku

-her name is derived from the alcohokic drink ‘chicha’

Bazi (Universe 2)

-Bazi is a light hearted, calm woman

-that’s honestly her whole thing. She produces a very sedative aura around her being, affecting anyone within a five foot radius

-she’s pretty blunt tho, so she’s be brutally honest to everyone

-but she always compliments and admires Heles

-needless to say Heles really likes her

-if you saw them together you’d probably assume they’re a couple

-she’s always floating about, you never see her on the ground or even sitting down on a solid surface

-her name is a pun on the alcoholic drink ‘basi’

Cervez (Universe 3)

-Cervez is a weird mix between organic life and machinery

-they can produce a absurd amount of electricity from their body, allowing him to in the very least immobilize Mule’s exterior

-initially, they’re cold and anylatical, but they were on their toes the entire Tournament of Power, showing that this stoic nature is more of a facade than anything else

-they seems to be on good terms with their universe’s deities

-their name is derived from the Spanish word for beer ‘cerveza’

Sake (Universe 4)

-Sake’s very competitive, loud, and feisty

-she’s always ready to throw hands

-she tries to keep Quitela out of trouble as best she can, but it’s a little hard for her to keep up with him

-(she honestly hates Quitela, and wishes she could switch gods with anyone else. she’d honestly prefer Universe 9)

-the other two are fine though

-her name is taken directly from the alcoholic drink of the same name

Vino (Universe 5)

-this little turd nugget has a lot of pride in the universe they get to be in

-has a bit of a sharp tongue

-he’s pretty graceful

-they know they have very little to do and are kind of useless, which they’re often criticized on by his peers

-their name is based off the word wine in Spanish, ‘vino’

Marsali (Universe 6)

-she’s means well, but sometimes comes off a little strong

-she’s kind of childish, honestly

-her method for tranquilizing is a natural chemical that comes out of her skin in the form of a gas. It’s strong enough to kill mortals but put gods to sleep. Heck, Vados covers her face when she uses it (for good measure)

-her arms and many legs can stretch but not indefinitely

-she’s also like a normal plant and can wilt if she isn’t watered or given enough sun

-she seems to get along with Vados just fine, and treats Champa like some sort of uncle figure

-her mouth tends to go :3 more often than not

-her name is a pun of the drink ‘marsala’

Buni (Universe 7)

-some of you already know her

-she’s my self insert, so I didn’t bother with giving her a ‘punny’ name

-she’s considered to be an oddball among her peers since she’s a little too involved in mortal affairs

-Beerus accidentally picked her off her planet and got attached (a little later than she did)

-she has a lot of respect for the Z Fighters

-her tail has a lot of squish in it, but its best not to pull or touch it

Mimos (Universe 8)

-he’s a mischevious and clever little fellow

-he’s also a fuckin’ tattler, which is one of the ways Liquer finds out who’s lowering the Universe’s mortality level

-kind of smug

-his name is a pun on the drink ‘mimosa’

Matai (Universe 9)

-this gal’s real serious

-got a bad case of resting bitch face syndrome

-she takes her job very seriously

-she talks often enough, but most people are surprised by how low it is

-in her case she has to watch the Universe’s supreme kai much more than the god of destruction (usually the opposite is the case)

-she’s very stern and quite intimidating

-she only speaks the truth, and finds it unforgivable when anyone lies

-her rattle tends to make sound when she gets angry or frustrated

-she has a fairly strong hate towards Universe 7, especially Goku

-in her case, she intimidates to calm them down (specifically Roh,the supreme kai). she’d never kill him for a number of reasons, but she sure as heck can make him feel pain

-she gets along with Sidra and Mohito just fine though. she has a healthy respect for Sidra, but understands Mohito’s annoyance with Universe 9

-her name is yet anothe pun off a alcohloic drink, this time being ‘mai tai’

Coke (Universe 10)

-she was married to Rumusshi

-he often describes her as kind and gentle

-unfortunately, due an accident, she’s deceased

-part of the reason she’s not up there in the drawings

-it was fairly recent and they haven’t really found or even looked for a replacement

-Rumusshi’s name is a pun off the drink ‘rum’, so I thought that I’d name her coke so it’d be ‘rum and coke’ which is also a alcoholic drink (a cocktail, I think)

Jolep (Universe 11)

-they’re a surprisingly quiet individual

-if they wore glasses they’d do a fogging thing all the time

-the type to be secretive

-they believe heavily in justice and despise all forms of evil

-they seem to communicate telepathically, as Belmond and Marcarita tend to talk for her

-very prideful in her universe, and had a lot of faith in them during the Tournament of Power

-they are, in fact, amputated, but they use magic to keep their appendages close and usable

-their name’s based of the drink ‘mint julep’

Ale (Universe 12)

-fairly talkative, despite lacking a mouth

-he’s actually a guy trapped in a ball, he can’t get out

-I got tired when I got to designing him

-he’s got psychic powers

-his name is of course taken from the drink of the same name

[cainov]

nonbinary — ever hear people say CAIN ROMANOV looks a lot like BILL SKARSGARD? I think HE/THEY is about 24, so it doesn’t really work. The ANTIQUE BOOKSHOP OWNER has lived in Livingstone for TWENTY-FOUR YEARS. They can be RIGHTEOUS, but they can also be EVASIVE. I think CAIN might be A SHEEP. ( snot goblin. 20. EST. she/they. ) 

hi hello ... decided 2 bring in my son ... my soft boy ... my light ... some of u may know him from watershed but ! here he is again ! forced upon u all. please love him as i’m very fragile. ** i’ve changed parts of his bio so !! if u think u knew all the deetz ,,, but please be warned that it’s PRETTY HEAVY STUFF !!

pleathe LIKE this to PLOT and i promise i will not abandon u all like the other times usfdg

TW: CULT LIFE, HEROIN USAGE / ADDICTION, DRUG ADDICTION / USE / ABUSE, EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, ABUSE, MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES ( PTSD, ANXIETY ). if i forgot anything PLEASE tell me !!

a e s t h e t i c s

dangling limbs from tree branches, yellowed book pages, opened bottles of vintage wine, oversized sweaters and deep under eyes, bleached denim, worn leather gloves, cat hair against black cloth, fields of wheat, broken windows, descending staircases, tight-lipped smiles during public appearances, golden skies, light spilling from windows, stumbling over one’s own words, wire-framed beds, linens, wool scarves, making the wrong decisions; running, from others and yourself.

general information !!

full name: cain alexei romanov

nickname(s): cock and ball torture, N/A

b.o.d. - feb 19th, fuckin pisces

label(s): the fallen, the phoenix, the crestfallen, etc. etc.

height: 6′4″ jfc

hometown: livingstone, VT babey !!

sexuality: bi…? bi. yes. bi.

pinterest

stats

biography !!

the eldest to vermont senator vaughn romanov and philanthropist adelaide romanov - they were born into a life of privilege in a very prominent family. they’re the eldest of five. 

with this background in mind - cain was taught to be the perfect citizen, the golden child, the all american ( willfully ignoring the fact that his father came from russian immigrants ) son. they were obedient, always staying within line.

several expectations for them included joining clubs at school such as model UN, debate, DECA, etc., sports (soccer, track, basketball, lacrosse - all throughout the years), student government (class president for at least one year), and maintaining a GPA status valedictorian-worthy.

was made to volunteer on the weekends at homeless shelters and food banks - to show the community how much of a gem he was, a darling - a perfect member of society.

his eagerness to impress pleased his parents and thus, he never had a problem with them. life was good for them. they attended church on sundays, sometimes wednesdays, did everything as a family. dinners and christmas photoshoots and new years eve parties, easter egg hunts and family reunions.

lived northside, not on the beach but close enough to it - a big fancy, seven bedroom, eight bath, two fireplaces and an expansive dining room - no pool, but a sturdy treehouse made by scratch.

his ~model citizen~ persona was just that - a persona, a charade. in the community and his family, cain was a hardworking citizen who upheld standards to follow. to classmates - from elementary school all the way to college - cain was the worst.

they were arrogant, harrowing, an outright bully who tore down others when he felt like it, often unprovoked - they were the senator’s son, and  a rich one at that - rules never applied to him because of his father and their family’s presence in the community. tattlers faced more consequences than cain ever did.

was the sort of person who’d genuinely look down at somebody if they had less than him. a narcissistic dickhead who cared about two or three people, tops, outside of his family. he was never physically violent, nor did he raise his voice - but that was what’s made it worse. cain spewed his classist bullshit with ease.

his best friends since childhood have been brooks hunter and michael green - a very troublesome trio based on their mutual love for power highs.

only redeeming quality back then was probably their protectiveness over his siblings - wasn’t the best person, but family was family.

went into political science + business to please their father, mainly - everything they’d been taught growing up was essentially to build them into a perfect little presidential candidate.

probably joined a frat though didn’t participate in parties too often - known for keeping his composition even when others resorted to violence, because he never liked to leave a bad press image. this attitude was the same when it came to parties and other ... taboo subjects,

sometime during college, two important things happened.

the first one was that he became a middleman / broker / whatever you’d like to call it. wasn’t producing product, but wasn’t dealing it. was the middleman, the connection between producers and dealers. it was for fun - never for profit. very hush-hush.

the second is that he met earl and may meyers. they were fellow volunteers at a thanksgiving food drive, and the older couple were immediately drawn to cain  - and him to them, essentially. to this day he can’t tell you what about them had been so appealing. just, the air around them was something else entirely. some would probably call it unhinged, some would call it comforting. they were kind folks, very down to earth, very religious and warmhearted. they liked his name being cain a whole lot; told him that he reminded him of their late son.

it was the beginning of his senior year in college for cain - a few years after he’d gotten started in the drug business - the couple volunteered more and more at the same places that cain would, the same times, almost as if they were learning his schedule. in retrospect, it was odd, but cain had never thought to suspect the elderly of anything ... deceiving. kept talking to them and it became a genuine friendship.

a few months into it, the couple started talking about the sin of wealth - god choosing only a select few when he cleanses the earth - only the worthiest souls - eventually they’d gotten into the rhythm of claiming cain was special. they could see he would be selected - see it in his aura, in their dreams - god personally speaking to to them, etc. etc.

it was ... oddly appealing to cain - like, maybe i am being constrained by capitalism and disappointing god - even though it had felt nearly ridiculous - it seeped into his mind.

this was essentially the result of emotional manipulation over a period of time - cain unsuspecting, unwilling to believe that he could be manipulated - always so sure in himself.

earl and may told him that they were going to leave livingstone - that there were so many more who had the same ideals as them, that it was time to join them - that it was time to prepare. cain held off from it, at first - having just graduated.

he had so much in livingstone - loyal companions and a close-knit family, a blooming side-business and a long-term girlfriend and an engagement ring burning in his pocket. he was still the same boy - cruel without cause. but he’d found himself surrounded by others, anyway.

within a month of newfound freedom - cain had a change of heart. the third most important event in his life had happened.

it was an average day - june, hot enough that sweat stuck to your skin, but not hot enough that you weren’t glad for it. a family bbq the entire day - relatives from all around - cain had been cleaning up with his mother when, out of nowhere, she had broken down in sobs.

essentially - after a long ... discussion, cain learned that they were not his father’s son.

in a fit of petty anger towards the beginning of their marriage, adelaide had cheated on vaughn. the result was cain.

it was the sort of news that breaks a person. his entire life - he idolized his parents, done everything they’d ever expect of him - let them mold him into whatever they pleased. to find out that his mother - a woman who, he had previously believed, could never tell a lie in her life - was a liar, and that his father - the man he looked up to most as a child - didn’t share the same blood as him.

cain unraveled. that week. several altercations, both sober and drunk - landing in county jail overnight - only to disappear without notice on june 21st, 2018.

it was treated as a missing persons’ case, the first week or so - until it had been determined that cain left on his own accord, then it was dropped much to the dismay of his family.

BEGINNING OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

only earl and may knew where cain went - because they had left together, cain’s last minute decision. cain’s mistake. the fourth most important thing to happen to him.

only hours away from livingstone - on the border between new york and vermont and not nearly far away as cain would had liked - was the cult’s location. they wore white linens and cotton - never mixed, and technology had been abandoned. prayers and daily chores.

it felt ... natural, at first - for the first three months - it was grand, in the beginning, peaceful, mind-clearing. they treated him differently - as if he were something special, as if his birth was a gift - a sign from the heavens above. cain come to undo his past’s damage. a leader, perhaps. the longer he stayed - the more apparent it became that he wasn’t who they had long waited for.

once they began slipping up - the members became displeased with him and punishments occurred - sometimes once a week, sometimes multiple. the memories are suppressed, for the most part - but they can’t forget the hands. pulling, and tugging, and gripping, and begging - asking him to repent, please, repent - head held underwater, counting seconds until his vision goes out - pulled out gasping and sobbing. it repeats in their mind - each day blurring into one another.

once he started reacting violently - they found ways to subdue him.

heroin intake - little by little, everyday - enough to leave him in a high he wouldn’t remember - enough to burn a hole through his memory.

with memories becoming dimmer each day - cain managed to sneak paper and pencil into his ~living arrangement~ and he wrote everyday - wrote as much as he could remember about livingstone, about his family, about his life before. sometimes he couldn’t remember what he’d written previously.

when these were found - it had been the final straw. they had dragged him, kicking and screaming and mind-numbingly high into place - a twisted reenactment / retelling of the mark of cain and a brand of the mark burnt permanently into his skin right above his heart - forehead not an option due to difficulties fully subduing cain (he bit them).

left to die in the middle of woods afterwards, with nothing but his writing and the clothes on his back - cain shouldn’t had had the strength to go on - but they did. they didn’t know what day it was - really, what year it was - but cain got up and cain ran. and cain, obviously, survived.

it was pure luck that cain had run into a truck driver who wasn’t doubling as a murderer - one who took him to the hospital - who essentially, gave cain another chance to live. cain was found on june 21st, 2019.

END OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. STILL MENTIONS OF TRAUMA / MENTAL HEALTH / RECOVERY / ADDICTION BEYOND THIS POINT.

immediately reunited by his family - everything went very fast. he couldn’t recognize his youngest sibling, but couldn’t remember why he’d left in the first place. couldn’t remember the name of his girlfriend, but the color of her hair and the way she smelled.

put into therapy and recovery for their addiction - vaughn romanov makes his announcement that he’s running for the 2020 election the day after cain is found and brought home. they’re not expected to be alright within a few weeks of therapy - but cain feels restrained, in a way - confined to the role he’d always had to play. expected to up, and continue with life as if he hadn’t endured an extremely traumatizing year.

is essentially forced to stay in livingstone for the time being - but cain has taken a few things into his own hands. they’ll go to therapy, work on their recovery - but, having no further interest in what he’d gotten a degree in - has decidedly bought himself an antique bookshop off of the owner looking to retire, and has taken shelter in the apartment above it.

with their four cats, of course. his parents agreed - purely to give him the space to recover whilst keeping him close to them. if only he hadn’t found recovery to be most helpful in the form of pills - his old business now turned into a way for him to get what he believes will make him better.

personality !!

to clarify - cain is no longer the douchebag they once were. kind of .. learned to be a better person with his entire experience - mostly a lot of self-blaming that boils down to karma and deserving what happened to him.

he’d always been a pretty ... quiet, person - even with the massive ego - but now, cain’s ... quieter. kinder, if not a little sarcastic. distant and not much for parties - that never changed - but it’s more of a ... restrictive, distance, than one of comfort.

smokes weed but rarely drinks - as if it’d make a difference with the pills addiction he’s using to battle his heroin one. 

like mentioned - they’ve got four cats. that’s their personality. had two of ‘em before he’d disappeared, and just got the other two probably ... yesterday, tbh. they’re named frank (big chungus when yelled - white and gray), brock (orange. fluffy. stoic. devours food.), shoelace (black-furred and missing an eye), and crunchwrap supreme (crunch for short, calico with bent ears).

probably has photos of their cats in his wallet.

parents help pay for the cost of owning the bookshop - though cain’s expected to fully take on the financial responsibility when he’s ‘well again’.

their memory is fucked. forgets a lot of things - short term, long term, it’s a struggle. managed to keep the notes they used to take back at the cult - so it helps, but not always. forgets dates, faces, names, events. he wakes up sometimes and doesn’t know where they are. 

they don’t sleep a lot, regardless - night terrors came with his trauma, and in an attempt to avoid ‘em, they don’t really ... sleep. only a few hours each night because it gets so bad.

cain suffers from severe touch aversion. skin-to-skin contact of any sort is enough to send them into an intense panic attack. they wear leather gloves more often than not, in an attempt to combat it without hindering them too much. not the biggest fan of body contact in general, even with clothes - but it won’t send him into a panic like bare skin will. makes it obvious from the get-go that he doesn’t like physical contact if somebody gets too close.

also dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week - therapist recommended he kept writing after looking at his notes - so he does, keeps an entire journal where they write and like ... sketch a little, because it helps them cope. means more to them than it would seem.

they’re pretty blunt. won’t go out of their way to announce that they joined a cult, hence the disappearance - but won’t lie about their disappearance if the topic comes to it. cain doesn’t like delusions, doesn’t like secrets - doesn’t like unnecessary attention, either. 

being said uh ... cain sort of hates the new division ? anything that resembles a cult, he instantly hates. hates the watershed app too.

being in town keeps cain anxious, because they’re aware they’ve wronged a good amount of people - but it’s hard to remember who, and what, and when, and why - and it’s just. an entire ordeal of figuring out how to ... redeem himself to multiple people.

screwed over a lot of people when they left ! from their plugs / customers to their ex-girlfriend who they are, undeniably, still in love with - you can’t forget that feeling - to his friends.

isn’t ... aware that michael is in prison. isn’t aware that kieran is dead. hasn’t been told yet.

is high often ! says it’s just weed but ... it’s not !

hates cars and swimming and crowds - hates feeling trapped and will avoid it when possible. doesn’t want to be seen as unsociable, but it’s difficult.

climbs trees when overwhelmed and needs a space to think - has a tall tree right outside of the window of his apartment, on the side opposite of the street if that makes sense ?? can be found there often. like - won’t leave a conversation to go climbin’ but. y’know.

feels the need to redeem themself to ... everybody, really. wants to avoid conflict and wants to be a better person - they’re trying really hard but not everybody believes them.

really .. wouldn’t be surprised if people from livingstone were suspicious of cain, for whatever reason - they don’t have the best track record anymore !

 they’ve got a stutter that developed as a result of the trauma - their voice is damaged from screaming a lot. working on being less self-conscious about it, thinks there’s more important things to worry about. in general cain looks ... gaunt, too thin, generally unhealthy.

they can still definitely hold a conversation, and like i said they’re pretty…lowkey. soft, sort of. generally a quiet person and while they’re not the most social, they won’t be a direct asshole or anything. likes people! just…has low energy.

goes by he/they, doesn’t really care which one as he alternates pretty frequently.

very happy with being the owner of a bookshop - especially antique. feels more genuine than political science or whatever.

got really into the investigation of the cult he was part of - they got uncovered and arrested due to cain’s escape but there’s still branches out there - you could call him obsessed. willing to stick his nose where he shouldn’t, even though he really ... really shouldn’t.

wanted connections !!

so first and foremost - people who he’s grown up with his entire life. people he’s just. wronged. people who idolized him - people who envied him, who despised him, etc. etc.

would love ! a good amount of antagonistic connections because it fits the bill.

exes he’s dumped, old hookups, ex-friends, people he got into an argument with / fought before he disappeared last year.

ex-gf would be gr8 ! thanks ! will be holding american-idol-esque auditions.

any prominent families in livingstone that his family would know. family friends - family rivals. his siblings.

people he’s trying to redeem himself to - trying to prove his worth, that he’s better now. y’know.

old clients that he left in the dust !

people from his frat - people he used to go to the occasional party with.

people angry at cain, still. just. so mad. pissed completely.

some good ol’ reconnecting / reconciliation plots ! i’m a slut for slowburn friendships. enemies to friends.

people he used 2 bully.

wholesome shit, angst shit. i said slowburns but i love them. friends to enemies. enemies to bigger enemies. anything.

no. hookups. please. only previous encounters. nothing in the present. for obvious reasons.

except MAYBE sexual tension but the kind that hurts. maybe a fun, casual sexting thing. they’ve got needs too.

people who just hate his dad b/c politicians suck !

i imagine a lot of conversations between him n other people start out ... aggressive, because they’re mad at him. :/

people who are soft for them ?? people who are hard on him ?? make his life difficult but also uwu him.

i’ll rly take anything !! just like this so i can slither in !!

[cainromainelettuce]

( non-binary ) haven’t seen CAIN ROMANOV around in a while. the BILL SKARSGARD lookalike has been known to be (+) RIGHTEOUS & (+) AMBITIOUS, but HE/THEY can also be (-) EVASIVE & (-) UNTRUSTING. The 24 year old is a SENIOR majoring in BUSINESS. I believe they’re living in EMERITUS, but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. ( snot goblin. 20. EST. she/they. )

surprise !! i am the snot goblin ! (aka james aka saige aka amos aka aleta) !! i very much apologize for this intro being late !! and also for possibly being pretty long.

EDIT: i forgot to mention but 1. like this if u’d like to plot w/ him !! obv !! and then 2. if discord is easier for any of u, my thing is emo stan #3644 uwu

TW: CULT LIFE, HEROIN USAGE / ADDICTION, DRUG ADDICTION / USE / ABUSE, EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, ABUSE, MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES ( PTSD, ANXIETY ). if i forgot anything PLEASE tell me !!

a e s t h e t i c s

dangling limbs from tree branches, yellowed book pages, opened bottles of vintage wine, oversized sweaters and deep under eyes, bleached denim, worn leather gloves, cat hair against black cloth, fields of wheat, broken windows, descending staircases, tight-lipped smiles during public appearances, golden skies, light spilling from windows, stumbling over one's own words, wire-framed beds, linens, wool scarves, making the wrong decisions; running, from others and yourself.

general information !!

full name: cain alexei romanov

nickname(s): cock and ball torture, N/A

b.o.d. - feb 19th, fuckin pisces

label(s): the fallen, the phoenix, the crestfallen, etc. etc.

height: 6′4″ jfc

hometown: rochester, ny babey !!

sexuality: bi...? bi. yes. bi.

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biography !!

cain, like all of my other children, was born into a life of privilege. his father’s a senator of new york and his mother’s a philanthropist; both pretty prominent figures. cain is the eldest of five.

he was raised in mind of keeping a good public reputation, taught to be the perfect citizen. essentially, he was a golden child who could really do no wrong. as a child, he’d always aim to please his parents in any way he could.

this included joining several clubs during school, such as model UN, debate, DECA, etc. etc. as well as a few sports (soccer, track, basketball, lacrosse -- all throughout the years, not at once). pretty sure he’s been a class president once or twice, and has been in the lead for valedictorian.

his whole thing was that he was supposed to be perfect. volunteered on the weekends at homeless shelters and food banks and like...he just did The Most. the absolute most

this pleased his parents, and he never had a problem with them. life was good. they attended church on sundays, sometimes wednesdays, always did things as a Family. like, we’re talking family dinners and christmas photoshoots and new year eve parties.

probably lived in a gated community tbh

he went into college strong, started off as a double major in political science and business, lookin’ to take after both his parents. he’d Always been fairly close to tatiana, being around the same age as her. nothing freaky ever happened among them, and i wouldn’t have really called them...friends, if that makes sense? they were confidantes, they vented to each other for whatever reasons at the time.

however this whole ~do no wrong~ bearing was a charade. in the community and his families’ eye, cain was just this precious, hardworking citizen who gave back when possible.

those who actually, genuinely knew him knew he was just a dick lmfao

arrogant, harrowing, and an outright bully who tore down others when he felt like it -- often unprovoked. he was the senator’s son and a rich one at that, and ever since middle school he was just...mean !

because of his father and his family’s general position in the community, tattlers were the ones getting in trouble rather than cain, who’d often go without punishment for his attitude.

like...was That Bitch who’d actually, genuinely look down at somebody if they had less than him. just an absolute narcissistic dickhead who only cared about like, maybe two or three people outside of his family.

his only redeeming quality was probably his protectiveness over his siblings tbh -- even if he wasn’t ... the best person, nobody was rly allowed to fuck w/ his family.

this carried into college, he probably joined one of the frats too, y’know. known for keeping his composition even when others resorted to violence, ‘cos he never liked to get physical. it would’ve been bad for press, y’know ??

sometime during college, two important things happened.

the first one is that he became a sort of...middleman? broker? he wasn’t the one creating/growing what he was selling, but he wasn’t the one dealing them. y’know, he was the middleman. took drugs and sold them to dealers to sell, for profit, for funsies. very hush-hush for the obvious reasons.

the second is that he met earl and may meyers. they were fellow volunteers at a thanksgiving food drive, and the older couple were immediately drawn to cain -- and him to them, essentially. to this day he can’t tell you what about them had been so appealing. just, the air around them was something else entirely. some would probably call it unhinged. they were kind folks, very down to earth, very religious and warmhearted. they liked his name being cain a whole lot; told him that he reminded him of their late son.

i’d say the beginning of this was late junior year for cain. the couple volunteered more and more at the same places as cain, as often as he did -- which, in retrospect was odd -- but cain hadn’t really known better. being the Good Samaritan he acted as, he kept talking to them. it became a genuine friendship. a few months into it, they had started talking about like...the sin of wealth and what it does to your soul, god choosing only a select few to be saved when he eventually cleanses the earth, etc. etc. they claimed that cain was special, one of those to be selected, they could see it in his aura, etc. etc.

it was...oddly appealing to him? like hmm..maybe i am being constrained by capitalism and disappointing god!

but like...this was mostly because of a lot of emotional manipulation for a duration of months -- and he had never once suspected anything like that to be happening. cain had always been so sure of himself, that he’d never imagined one day being manipulated, even if he was manipulative himself.

earl and may told him that they were going to leave rochester, that there were so many more who had the same ideals as them -- it was time to join them, to be saved. cain held off from this, as a senior in college by now.

after all, he had his perfect lil family and a good side-business going on, and he had a long term girlfriend who put up with his shenanigans. cain was still an absolute asshole to others but he had at least found his crowd to all be collectively awful and full of themselves, y’know?

over winter break, however, cain had a change of heart pretty suddenly. 

for the third important thing had happened.

it had started off as a pretty average, normal day. christmas had gone and passed -- it was one of the days between christmas and new years eve, y’know? a period of days where time nor place is real. like walmart at midnight, or an empty 7/11 parking lot. during a seemingly normal conversation about his ancestry with his mother, she had suddenly broken down in sobs.

it was during this discussion that she revealed, to cain only -- that he was not his father’s son.

the beginning of vaughn and adelaide’s marriage had a pretty...rocky start, to say the least, and in a night of petty anger, adelaide had cheated on vaughn. this resulted in the pregnancy that wound up with cain.

the news rocked cain’s world in a very bad way, the sort of way that breaks a person. his entire life he looked up to his parents, did everything they ever asked of him, molded himself into perfection for the hope of being a sliver of a man his father was. and to learn that his father was not, actually, his father?

within the week he’d gotten into several altercations, both sober and drunk, and had landed in county jail overnight. nobody knows where cain went on new years eve, but he hadn’t skipped town until the third -- according to tatiana, who had received one last gift from him on the 2nd (her birthday).

then, he was gone. it wasn’t a missings person ordeal -- cain had made it very known that he was leaving rochester and that he had skipped town. hadn’t even broken up with his girlfriend before doing so. hell -- hadn’t even told the people he worked for. 

BEGINNING OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

only earl and may knew where cain went. because he went with them to the place they had told him so much about. this was the fourth most important thing to happen to him, because it changed his life.

cain didn’t know what a cult looked like, but it felt pretty accurate to hollywood’s interpretations. they lived separate from society in rural new york -- not nearly as far away as cain would’ve liked, but thank god in the long run for that. the people wore white, linens and cotton. there was no technology, just prayer and daily chores. money meant nothing, there.

i want to keep this part relatively short, so i’ll try my hardest. cain was only in the cult for three-ish months before he escaped. the beginning was grand -- it was peaceful, it was mind-clearing. he was treated as something special, his name being some sort of ... message, a sign that he’d been a gift for the group. that he’d be, ultimately, an eventual leader for them. however -- the longer he stayed with them, the more apparent it became that he wasn’t the messager they had long waited for.

he began slipping up. they became displeased with him. punishments occurred. sometimes once a week, sometimes multiple. he remembers hundreds of hands, pulling and tugging and gripping and begging -- asking him to repent, please, repent, and submergence on more than one occasion. these were not the worst.

 they were convinced that he couldn’t truly be cleansed of his sins unless he forgot his past life.

fun fact: heroin in small doses, daily, can lead to memory loss.

though it’d only been around three months of this -- it really felt longer to cain. time wasn’t a concept. there was only the ground they walked on, and god, and that was that.

drugged and weakened but still kickin’, he had gotten into a particularly violent, brutal fight with earl. this was the last straw. cain had attempted to murder his ‘brother���. this led to his next punishment.

in a particularly twisted reenactment / retelling, cain had been branded with the cult’s interpretation of the mark of cain (they were going to be accurate and place it upon his forehead, but after a lot of resistance [he bit somebody] it was, begrudgingly, placed atop his heart instead) and left for dead in the middle of nowhere.

by all means, he probably should’ve died. by miracle, though cain was no longer a believer -- he was found by a farmer.

END OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. STILL MENTIONS OF TRAUMA / MENTAL HEALTH / RECOVERY BEYOND THIS POINT.

by early april he’d been reunited with his family. things went very fast, suddenly, for him. recovering from his forced addiction, and the trauma he’d been put in within only a small amount of months -- and his father’s reputation -- his mother’s inability to look him in the eye -- cain took matters into his own hands and, rather than return to lockwood, put in his transfer to hendrix.

because he’s a grown man who, while recovering from being in a cult, can still make his own decisions even if they’re irrational. he should’ve taken a year off, really, and recover. but he couldn’t imagine staying in his house, either, and generally ?? his mind was just a very messy place.

he went to hendrix a s a p, before his term in the summer even began. he wound up at hendrix a few weeks (like...three?) before the lockwood kids and was very dismayed to find out that oh, coincidence, there’s an abroad semester attending !!

so that’s sort of where he’s at rn.

personality !!

okay so...douchebag cain is No More. they’re retired.

to the hendrix students they’ve familiarized themself with, they’re a pretty quiet person. well-meaning, kind enough if not a little sarcastic. sort of distant, not much for parties. smokes weed and like, drinks occasionally, but not much else. definitely doesn’t do anything harder. 

they’ve got four cats. that’s their entire personality. four cats. they got them all after transferring to hendrix and like ... no regrets ?

i imagine their parents still pay for their schooling ‘cos it’s not like their father Knows that cain’s not his child. if anything, vaughn just thinks that cain suffered a mental breakdown and needed a break.

anyways. they love their cats a lot. like, probably has photos of them in their wallet.

as mentioned above, their memory is pretty...fucked up right now. they don’t forget anything major, but there are days where it takes them a while to remember faces or names and sometimes they wake up and won’t know where they are.

not that they really...sleep a lot? they have night terrors, which fuck with their sleep schedule. they sleep only for a few hours each night because the nightmares are too bad.

cain suffers from severe touch aversion. skin-to-skin contact of any sort is enough to send them into a pretty bad panic attack. they wear leather gloves more often than not, because it helps without hindering them too much. they’re not the biggest fan of body contact in general, even with clothes, but it won’t send them into a panic like bare skin will. they make sure their few friends know that they don’t really like physical contact at all.

they’re dealing with PTSD, attends therapy every week. keeps an entire journal where they write b/c it helps them cope. it’s like, everything to them.

they’re...sort of like...blunt? they won’t go out of their way to be like ‘hey i joined a cult and it fucked me up pretty badly’ but they won’t lie about it either if the topic somehow comes to that. they don’t like delusions, but they don’t like drawing unnecessary attention to them either.

lockwood students being at hendrix makes them pretty anxious, just because they were looking to sort of ... rebuild themself into a better person, and like pretty much most students at lockwood knows how much of a massive tool they used to be. not to mention like, their plugs and customers they screwed over by leaving, and their ex girlfriend who they’re still probably in love with ?? but it’s just complicated now.

smokes weed to soothe them rather than just get high. is probably stoned often.

doesn’t really like cars! or swimming! or crowds. doesn’t like to feel trapped.

whenever they’re overwhelmed and needs to be away from everything, they’ve developed a habit of climbing into trees. they won’t suddenly go jump in a tree during a conversation, but more so at night or when they need to think.

probably trying to redeem themself in some sort of way. because while they want to avoid the lockwood students as much as possible, that’s not right. they want to fix the shit they’ve done and be a better person, because the whole...situation they’ve been in has opened their eyes.

uuuhh...there are days where they forget that tatiana’s dead. so that’s sad.

i wouldn’t be surprised if people from lockwood were suspicious of cain, considering they left rochester only a week or so before tatiana went missing, and just so happened to come to hendrix around the same time eva went missing ??

oh !! cain developed a stutter, and their voice is a little damaged from...screaming. a lot. in general they look a little gaunt, a little unhealthy. 

they can still definitely hold a conversation, and like i said they’re pretty...lowkey. soft, sort of. generally a quiet person and while they’re not the most social, they won’t be a direct asshole or anything. likes people! just...has low energy.

goes by he/they, doesn’t really care which one as he alternates pretty frequently.

dropped the political science part of his major and like...unfortunately is very much unhappy with being a business major atm. he might just go through another four years of college in a diff major or fuck off all together.

EDIT: i forgot to mention that he’s sort of really into the investigation of the cult he was part of b/c they’re still like...out there. also fascinated by the watershed app and shit, ‘cos they fucking...hate this shit with a passion. probably willing to stick their nose into places they shouldn’t

wanted connections !!

so first and foremost, cain would’ve been known around lockwood. connections relating to that would be v much appreciated !!

mostly enemies or people they’ve wronged, tbh, ‘cos he was a massive dick.

exes they’ve dumped, hook ups, ex-friends, people he’s gotten into arguments or fights with.

his ex gf would be gr8 . if anybody would like some angst.

uuhhh i’d imagine he’d know a few of the other prominent families from rochester, especially. not to say that they would’ve all gotten along.

hendrix pals !! give me some solid friendships based on mutual respect.

people cain used to receive drugs from and people he used to send those drugs to.

ex-party pals ??

people suspicious of them b/c cain was/is a very suspicious person. people still angry at them.

let them RECONNECT and FIX FRIENDSHIPS

people he’d bully or fuck with or whatever.

wholesome shit. angst shit. slowburns, anyone ?!? enemies to friends. friends to enemies. enemies to bigger enemies.

i’m not taking hook-ups for....obvious reasons.

but sexual tension is welcomed. maybe a sexting thing ??

ppl they DON’T even know that well but hATE his dAD because FUCK POLITICIANS y’know ?!?

old pals from lockwood, if i didnt mention that.

i imagine a lot of conversations w/ lockwood kids begin like ‘this is where u fucked off to, huh?’ b/c like....they told everybody they were ditching rochester. it wasn’t a secret or a shock. but it’s still like huh. u bastard.

people who are soft for them ??

people who are hard on him ??

make his life difficult but also uuuhh uwu him

[detective-jamy-peraltiago]

Gina was the fuckin tattler

[elfnerdherder]

Ill Intentions: Chapter 1

Summary: AU in which Will Graham is a disenchanted journalist, resigned to his fate of back-page wedding announcements at Tattler News. He has a watch that beeps to tell him when to get water, when to go for a walk, and when to eat, but he hasn't yet found a program to tell him how to feel when the Chesapeake Ripper of all people sends Fanmail.

Dear Will Graham, I adored your analysis of the Minnesota Shrike. How quickly you boxed him into a corner and revealed his hand! Surely the ladies on campus will sleep better knowing to avoid anyone that looks remotely like them with a father in tow. That, or perhaps you’ve inspired them all to dye their hair a poignant shade of blonde until the next killer comes along. I wonder if your clever little mind would be able to catch someone like me, however; would you be interested in playing a game, Mr. Graham? I’ve grown bored as of late, and the city is not much to entertain these days. You can respond in your new column. Congratulations, by the way. -Chesapeake Ripper.

He really shouldn’t be excited that there are lives at stake. In reality, though, Will hasn’t felt much in a long, long time.

You can read Chapter 1 on Ao3 Here

Chapter 1: Writer’s Block

           Will was trying very hard not to slam his head against his desk.

           Deadlines were one thing; he’d struggled meeting deadlines most of his life, from getting to class on time in high school to finishing a paper due promptly at midnight in college –what professor wanted a paper posted by midnight, anyway? What professor decided that at midnight, they’d wake from their recliner in their tenure-paid home and pad over to their HP, gleefully closing the submissions link on the assignment before anyone else could turn it in? Did they grade it immediately after, from 12:01 to 4:00 where they’d finally pass out at their desk, exhausted but proud of their ability to really dig it to the students whose hopes were crushed at exactly 12:02 when they realized with a sinking sensation that they couldn’t turn their paper in?

           He told himself tangents were just another way to get out of the task at hand.

            Deadlines were one thing. He’d gotten better at deadlines in the ‘adult world’, gotten better at a watch that kept him on track and on time with its beeps, dings, and notifications. Most of his life revolved around the smartwatch that even reminded him when it was the last time he’d eaten or stood up from his uneven, wobbly desk. Time was odd for him, but that small, sturdy little electronic had kept him on time for the past four years. More or less.

           No, no, the problem at hand was writer’s block.

           “Dear Bev, I’ve heard a lot about the Minnesota Shrike, and it makes me scared to go to class. He’s targeted universities all over this area, from Maryland, Virginia, New York, Maine; when will the FBI catch him? What kind of person would do that to these girls?”

           He considered the other questions Beverly had chosen to answer, then compared it to this one. ‘Chats with Bev’ was the long-running advice column at Tattler News, a high-ratings paper that –in his opinion –verged dramatically towards gossip-fodder and tabloids at times rather than news. It was a job, though. Four years out of college and at least he could say he had a job.

           This, however; this was not his job.

           “It’s not really right for me to do this,” he called out irritably to Beverly across the room. “I’m not ‘Bev’.”

           “A bet’s a bet, no matter how drunk we were,” Beverly replied cheerfully. She wasn’t the least bit perturbed by his expression, or by the way his fingers tapped angrily against the keys.

           “I have no idea what to say to these people,” he muttered.

           “Hey, you’re getting credit for writing the column this week. That’s a little extra money in your pocket, right?”

           Right. He rubbed his face, leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette, letting it hang from his lips as he considered the question. It was a little ham-handed sitting below ‘my husband is cheating on me’, but it was a little awkward just above ‘what can I expect when my daughter starts her period?’ It was a serious question, one bred from terror and fear. The Minnesota Shrike had been attacking for months, no word on whether or not he’d be caught anytime soon, what with the way the FBI was trying to keep things under wraps.

           That wasn’t his problem, though. His problem was writer’s block, and trying to make a reply that was engaging, informative, and colorful enough that when it hit the third page of Tattler News, neither he nor Beverly would lose their jobs.

           He sighed, took a drag of the cigarette, then promptly put it out in the ash tray. It was a nasty habit, one he’d been trying to break for years.

           At least he’d had the smoking habit longer than he’d had the writer’s block.

           He pulled up articles, news, and reports on the Minnesota Shrike, staring down at them and tapping his fingers over the words. The reply needed something delicate, something carefully constructed rather than the normal garb that told people to stay safe and remain in groups. He wasn’t targeting just people, he was targeting women. He wasn’t just targeting women, he had a type.

           That type was now currently terrified.

           He poured himself a finger of whiskey, sighed quietly. It was going to be a long night with him and the Minnesota Shrike.

-

            Writing was a comfort when it worked. It was as much a release as it was a barrier, one where Will could spend his days behind the comfort of a computer screen rather than interact with people. He knew how to interact –the application of eye contact was sorely lacking. That made people nervous, as much as being stared at for too long made him nervous. His watch beeped. He needed to drink some water.

           He couldn’t, though, not with his boss staring so acutely across the desk at him.

           “Beverly told me about you chiming in on her column. I approved it, seeing as how it’d already been done,” he said. A cigarette was tucked behind his ear, the remnants of his own bad habit. Will figured that editor’s offices in the newspaper industries were probably the last safe havens of many things, from comma splices to typos to chain smoking. The air was thick with it, and he inhaled deeply and nodded.

           “If it wasn’t right, sir, I understand,” he said, studying the pen holder. Two weeks later and he was going to reap what he’d sowed.

           “Right? You know how popular ‘Chats with Bev’ is? It’s page three for a reason; housewives across this god damn town been sending me questions and e-mails for years, wanting advice from some faceless woman with a penchant for telling it like it is. You know what you did when Beverly let you take a whack at it, eh?” Charlie was one half of the writing spectrum whose prose on paper was enough to make knees weak, but his speech left much to be desired. Will figured he spent so much time making his words pretty on paper that there was none left for real human interaction.

           Will could personally identify with that.

           “Did I ruin ratings?” he asked weakly.

           “Ruin them? Hell, kid, I’ve got triple what I’ve ever gotten! Men, women, teenagers, fuckin sororities sending in group messages. It wasn’t your advice on periods because you’re in way over your head with that, fuck, don’t ever try and give advice on that again.” A warning glance was tossed his way. “These people are asking us about killers, Will. You’re making them all sorts of excited about killers.”

           “What?” Disbelief colored his tone uncomfortable, his cheeks red.

           “I spent a lot of time thinking about this, EllaofGWU. I think it was a sign of my privilege, being a mid-twenties male that I didn’t know that much about the Minnesota Shrike, and for that I’m sorry. There must be a little bit of resentment, I’m sure, walking down campus with brown hair and fair skin, terrified to realize that you are part of a demographic that someone horrendous has targeted.

           “I can’t say when the FBI will catch him, but your other question sat with me for a long time: what kind of person would do that to these girls? There is the hope that they’re alive, but after contemplating that question, alone and ignorant in front of my computer, I think I can safely but regretfully surmise that they’re not. This person, after attempting to get to know such a person through the many lines of type and black #321 ink, is not keeping these girls.

           “He uses them, you see, to feed a need. He is delicate, meticulous, able to completely disappear with them without leaving a single trace. They are a proxy, a stand-in for the one he holds dear, the one he so desperately yearns to consume. He loves them in his own way because he loves her –his golden ticket. What kind of person would do that, you ask me? Someone that hungers. Someone that can’t remove the intrusive thoughts from their head. He is sick, and he very much has a daughter that looks a lot like you.

           “They say don’t talk with strangers, but that’s not the concern, is it? Don’t just avoid men with invasive questions, EllaofGWU. Avoid their daughters that look like you. A girl that looks alone, camping out at campuses to see which one to attend, whose father watches in the background with love and admiration; avoid them. He hunted these women, and if there’s one thing we know about hunters, they tend to enjoy using bait. Whether the bait is aware of this or not, though, we can’t say.”

           Charlie’s eyes pricked pins in his un-ironed button-up after he finished reading Will’s answer aloud. Will shifted, busied himself with filling a plastic cup full of water in the corner. It sat full because Charlie never drank it. The sun from the window made it warm, but he’d deal with it.

           “It took up a lot of space, so we bumped the period question because your answer was about as tactful as a senior tugging at a freshman’s panties,” he rumbled. “But we printed this one.”

           “They liked it?” he asked, glancing up. His teeth worried over the lip of the cup before he took a sip.

           “They fucking loved it! They ate it up, begged for more –some lady just down the road stopped me at Hank’s Hotdogs and started pestering me about wanting you to write about Ted Bundy, and I just fuckin stared at her like she was a shark before I realized they loved you talking about killers, kid. They fuckin loved you talking about the crazies.”

           “Death sells,” Will muttered.

           “Death, sex, intrigue, conspiracies, scandals, and serial killers. Sometimes, serial killers fall into all five before it, and they ate you up. They want you to have your own column, your own space where they can ask you all about these things. I been getting fuckin calls all week, asking if you were gonna collaborate with Bev again.”

           “I cover weddings, mostly,” Will defended. It was a weak defense, one without much passion or care. He hastily took another sip of water.

           “Your wedding covers have been weak lately. Freddie was suggesting tossing you, but this…” Charlie jabbed a finger down on the latest paper, grinning. “This is golden, kid. I feel like this was a bit of a redemption, something to remind me you can actually write some good shit.”

           “Freddie is always suggesting to toss me,” Will grumbled.

           “Well, when you’re front page news material, I’ll give you that same ear, how’s that?”

           “Right.”

           “Until then, I’m getting them to move some of the ads around, bring them down to maybe a 5.5 to make room for your new column. Chats with Bev, meet your male-killing-counterpart, ‘Will Intentions’.”

           “Will Intentions,” Will echoed. The name sounded corny, trivial.

           “A play off of Ill Intentions, you know? Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter.” Charlie waved a hand dismissively, grabbed the half-finished cigarette behind his ear and lit it. A sign the conversation was over. “I’ve got Cassie on Weddings now; you’re writing my crime-hungry column, got it?”

           “Got it.” A beat. “Thank you, sir.”

           He walked out of the office, found his desk and sat down, stunned. He had his own column. He wasn’t stuck writing cheap wedding announcements anymore.

           His watch beeped; a reminder he needed to finish his water.

           He downed it, crushed the cup and tossed it in the wastebasket beneath the desk that leaned somewhat too far to the left. Idly, he grabbed two books and propped the leg up to straighten it, blinking small spreads of stars out of his eyes at the thought that he, Will-fucking-Graham, had sat in his corner of Tattler News for four years and had finally gotten out of his stupid, sanguine-sweet wedding announcements all because he’d made a bet with Beverly while drunk about who could eat the most boiled eggs in under a minute.

           What in the hell was real life?

           “I heard the news,” Beverly said, standing in front of his desk. He straightened in his chair, adjusted the setting Beverly had no doubt changed when she’d sat down to hunt through his drawers for a highlighter, and smiled a little.

           “Will Intentions?”

           “Not my idea, swear to god,” she snickered. “I think Freddie.”

           “Freddie,” Will groused, shaking his mouse to wake up the computer. “She was trying to get me fired before this.”

           “Your wedding announcements were getting a little lackluster,” Beverly pointed out. She sat on the edge of his desk, hip jutted to keep her balanced. “There are only so many times you can mention baby’s breath.”

           “I never want to hear baby’s breath again,” Will warned her.

           “Are you excited?” she asked.

           “It’s not really setting in yet,” he admitted. He let the words roll around in his head: no more wedding announcements. From now on, Will Intentions.

           Whatever the hell Will Intentions meant.

           “They’re going to bring by the letters, and I’ll forward you the e-mails. Basically, you choose the five best and answer them. Easy, right? I think that’ll help it set in.”

           “Easy,” he echoed with a nod.

           Beverly shifted, and he watched the leg of his desk wobble threateningly. He wondered if he’d get a new desk if the column worked out. He also wondered if he’d tank abysmally, and Freddie Lounds would be able to see him get the can after all.

           His watch beeped to tell him to eat.

           He ate as he went through a stack of letters that would have intimidated a lesser man who’d forgotten his lunch. They were quaint, from compliments of his analysis to questions regarding past killers like Bundy or Dahmer. He wasn’t as interested in those as he was the questions about why the police don’t take missing persons cases as seriously, or what caused a teenager to bring a gun to school. Those were recent. Those were fresh, raw wounds. He set those aside, as well as the compliments –a bit of an ego booster in truth.

           There was one that made him pause, though, something written on plain white paper with what looked like a fountain pen. Will was somewhat of a connoisseur of pens –he liked to think most writers had a special type of pen, something they used for their best work on bus rides and random notepads while walking in the park. He touched the long-dried ink, nodded to himself. A fountain pen, and a nicely edged one at that.

Dear Will Graham,

           I adored your analysis of the Minnesota Shrike. How quickly you boxed him into a corner and revealed his hand! Surely the ladies on campus will sleep better knowing to avoid anyone that looks remotely like them with a father in tow. That, or perhaps you’ve inspired them all to dye their hair a poignant shade of blonde until the next killer comes along.

           I wonder if your clever little mind would be able to catch someone like me, however; would you be interested in playing a game, Mr. Graham? I’ve grown bored as of late, and the city is not much to entertain these days. You can respond in your new column. Congratulations, by the way.

                                                                                               -Chesapeake Ripper.

           He kept that one because he was curious. Pranks were common, especially when killings were mentioned. He’d once done a paper on the amount of time and money wasted on dealing with false calls during murder investigations, psychos claiming credit for what someone else had done. He read over it once, twice; a third time made him set it by the only photo on his desk, a pack of dogs in an open field. He’d gotten his first crazy, and he hadn’t even done the column yet.

-

           He was intercepted as he was leaving work, the sun falling fast behind the skyscrapers and high-rise buildings of DC. The man wasn’t so much tall as he was broad-shouldered and stout; the trench coat and sunglasses get-up was about as obvious as a black eye, but Will wasn’t going to mention it. He looked him up and down, hitched his backpack up higher, and walked around him.

           “Will Graham?” the man asked.

           “Something I can help you with?”

           “In a hurry?”

           “Got a bus to catch,” he replied, still walking. The man kept pace, and Will noted the large black suburban following along.

           “I’m Agent Crawford of the FBI, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”

           “I’ve got a bus, Agent Crawford,” said Will. He noted the flash of a shiny badge in the corner of his eye, although he didn’t stop. If he missed his bus, it was a five mile hike home and he wasn’t inclined to that sort of exercise if he could help it. He was a writer, not some god damn athlete.

           “We’ll give you a ride,” Crawford assured him.

           “My dad always taught me not to talk to strangers, and if they offered to give me a ride I was supposed to run screaming to the nearest adult.”

           “We caught the Minnesota Shrike, Mr. Graham.”

           That did stop him. Will paused, puzzled, then looked to Crawford. His watch beeped to remind him that he had a bus to catch. He hardly heard the noise.

           “…What?”

           “I read your reply in Tattler News last week, and it intrigued me. Enough that I looked back through a few things on the case I’d been currently investigating, and we found what was necessary to catch the Minnesota Shrike.” Crawford held the badge in hand, prepared to show it to Will again.

           “You caught him?” His throat was dry. His watch didn’t beep to tell him to get water, but he figured he could use a glass of it.

           “We caught him,” Crawford affirmed. “Now, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

           Will decided that he didn’t mind much at all. His palms were dry, although his heart had begun to jerk about against his ribs rather unsteadily.

           They sat down at a small café crammed into the corner of a building two blocks away, and Will stirred his mocha around idly, watching Crawford’s mouth as Crawford watched him. He had a presence about himself, something brutish and capable. Will wondered what his fingers would write out if he’d had the chance to describe him. Lips that turned down, a tarnished gold wedding band; this was not the sort of man with a happy marriage, as of late. He had his work, though. He had the Minnesota Shrike.

           “It was just a question,” he explained. “Someone asked a question in the advice column, and I looked through some articles and made a guess.”

           “A guess.”

           “Yeah.” A pause as he took a sip of his drink. “I mean, a good guess, right? My major was criminal psychology and forensics. I kind of knew what I was looking for.”

           “But you’re in journalism,” Crawford pointed out.

           “Yeah, well…I didn’t get into the FBI. I’d double majored, and the second was journalism.” Will tried to make his shrug as nonchalant as possible. Strict psychological screening procedures and what-not.

           “You couldn’t fight crime, so you wrote about crime,” Crawford mused. He stirred sugar into his coffee and finally looked away from studying Will so intently. “How’d you guess he was using his daughter as bait?”

           “Was he?”

           A pause, brief enough to tell Will the answer. “…Yes. When we went into the house, he tried to kill her. She was his –how’d you call it?”

           “His golden ticket.”

           “His golden ticket,” Jack repeated.

           “They’re all from universities. He had to be a visitor, someone going to and from without notice, right? The profile said he was middle-aged, so either he’s working with a company that works with all of those universities –possible but not likely –or he’s got something that makes it not weird for him to be there, staring at students. Girls know to be wary of boys, but if he’s got his daughter asking questions or just trying to make friends, why would the victims be worried?” Will took another sip to try and hide how nervous he was, answering these questions. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but he felt mighty guilty, somehow.

           “How’d you know they wouldn’t be alive?”

           “Why keep taking them if he’s still got the stand-in?” Will asked.

           Jack nodded, accepting this. They sipped their coffee in silence, and Will’s watch beeped to tell him he should be home and fixing dinner by now. He downed his drink, stood up. Jack followed suit and offered him a ride in the SUV.

           He left him his card, whatever that meant. Will tucked it in his pocket all the same, waved him off at the entrance to the complex. Call if you need anything, he’d said. Maybe he’d call and ask for one of those fountain pens, the kind the high-ranking got after a particularly bristly promotion. Will scuffed his shoe, snorted. He was a writer, not some weird FBI crime fighter.

           Granted, he’d once wanted to be, when he thought maybe people could overlook his weird idiosyncrasies and inability to hold conversations very well with random strangers. He’d once thought maybe his quirks at seeing far too much about a person would lend a task force some insight they’d missed. If he could see through the eyes of the guy next door that was cheating on his long-term girlfriend, couldn’t he also see through the eyes of a killer terrorizing a city?

           Apparently so, since he’d helped the FBI inadvertently catch a killer.

           Psychological screening procedures and what-not, though. Behind the screen of a laptop was where he best shined now, not running around trying to find serial killers to bring them to justice. Truth be told, it wasn’t just the justice part that was enticing, it was the finding, the knowing. Save people from dying, understand the person behind the bloodied knife. There was something oddly cathartic at the thought that the twisted and sometimes horrendous way he looked at things was actually helpful for once –like a chair of antlers, grotesque but useful.

           That was that, though. No matter how buzzed his veins were at the idea he’d helped, in his own way, catch the Minnesota Shrike, it was time to get back to the real world. The real world had deadlines. His watch beeped again to tell him he should have eaten by now.

           He ate a bowl of oatmeal and considered the letters he’d narrowed it down to. He’d have to look at the killers they referenced, the murders that’d taken place.

           I saw the Minnesota Shrike was caught –amazing. Just amazing. Women are being found in the bay here, and I was wondering what your thoughts were on that? They’re not calling it a serial killer because they’re prostitutes, but get real. Pimps don’t just start killing their prostitutes willy-nilly and so easily found. So many, too. Way too many, don’t you think?

           At the bottom of the stack, he kept his first crazy fanmail, fingers tracing over the signature. He’d heard vague accounts of the Chesapeake Ripper, although after his realization he’d never be an agent he’d tried to put such thoughts out of his head. They only served to tease him with what he’d never have.

           No matter. It was a prank, although a flattering one. It sat at the bottom of the stack to remind him that when given the right opportunity, he actually was a decent writer. Enough to bring a psycho out to play.

-

           The next morning, as he shuffled across creaking wooden floors and made a pot of coffee, he blinked sleep from his eyes and contemplated the beeping on his wrist. Time to get up. Don’t forget coffee. Without coffee, you’re late for work.

           It took him far too long to really open his eyes, and as he spooned cold cereal into his mouth, it took approximately half of the bowl and four minutes on his watch to realize his laptop was propped open on the table. He turned it to shut it, confused since he thought he’d powered it down the night before. A yawn, eyes watering and mouth painfully gaping took him aback, and he covered his mouth with the spoon. It took another minute for him to realize what he was seeing, since the coffee was in his stomach but not quite in his bloodstream.

           There, propped up on the screen of the laptop, was the fanmail from the ‘Chesapeake Ripper’. As if to tease him, to convince him he hadn’t just left there before he’d gone to bed, a golden sticker had been placed at the top of the sheet, as if to beg him, me, me; pick me.